#I should get to attribute it to him positively

[plusvanity]

Hii, a few posts back you said you have your opinions on Faust and Euronymous separately could you make a post on that?

Love your analysis :)

Øystein has an interesting personality. I talked a bit about him in comparison with Varg at some point because they do share a few characteristic features.

I would describe Øystein as ambitious, talented, creative, hard-working and a leader. I don't think he worked very hard (as Varg, for example) to gain admiration from the people around him, I think that his ingenious ideas and musical innovation attracted people naturally.

He knew how to make himself be respected by his peers because he was open-minded, understanding, and had an optimistic attitude (as many described him) towards life.

It's pretty clear that he wasn't as mentally unstable as others in the scene, but it doesn't mean that he had no issues. I believe he had a bit of an inclination to be people-pleasing while also trying to remain firm on his views and beliefs.

He was prideful, confident (especially about his music), enjoyed the position of power and influence in which he was but didn't abuse that at all. He was arrogant at times and full of himself, but there is a fine line between the character that he was playing (Euronymous) and the real person he was inside.

I see him as having a few narcissistic features but not enough to consider him in the NPD spectrum. He was also quite understanding (especially when Euperor got signed by Candlelight Records) and you don't really see full-blown narcissists being reasonable and understanding.

Unfortunately, because of his strong personality and leadership attributes (dominant, assertive), he managed to attract a very toxic person in his life that lately became his murderer.

The fact that he had a healthy relationship with his parents tells a lot about him. He seemed to have much more authentic confidence than Varg ever had as well as discipline. He seemed much more thoughtful about consequences than Varg, and this became apparent when he took a step back from a situation that would have brought him extra fame, but also MASSIVE implications (negative attention). He also closed his shop at the suggestion of his parents.

These attributes generally come from a 'good enough' household.

Later on, it's quite evident that he struggled with depression because of Pelle's death. There are some indications of 'self harm' and excessive drinking behaviour. But it is also possible that he had episodic depression in the time that Pelle was alive because we all know that depression and anxiety are socially transmitted mental illnesses (or at least we should know).

I personally find his implication in church-burnings a theatrical movement rather than a truly antisocial behaviour. So this makes me think that naturally, he had fewer violent impulses than he wanted to display to the public. In addition to this, he even tried to dissociate himself from the image that Varg's juvenile criminality was put on him.

He had an inflated sense of ego that I tent to see it as theatrical rather than real, but this is how they were 'playing the game' back then.

His coping mechanisms after Pelle's death were dubious, but it is what it is. There is no point in getting into details. People cope differently with trauma. Øystein tried to cope as best as he could.

This is a very rough summary of how I see him.

Now, when it comes to Faust, I know he was seeing Øystein as a mentor. He had a lot of respect for him, this is undeniable.

Now, not all people are able to commit murder, even if in self-defense. What Faust did was reacting on impulse. I don't know what was in his head when he did it, but he described in an interview as 'seeing himself out of his body as he was doing it' and this is due to adrenaline rush combined with the brain's inability to cope with what is happening on the spot. He dissociated at the scene and probably had a hard time believing what he did after that.

In the context in which Faust committed his crime, this is antisocial behaviour. Another detail that stuck out was how he described the incident. 'Stomping on his head' is nothing but cruelty and sadism, in my opinion.

I am not saying that he is in a 'certain way', but these are my thoughts on him for what he's done.

Remember that anyone who killed a person or an animal can do it again. This is a psychological fact. Maybe they will never repeat their mistake, maybe they will seek redemption, but once you've done something like this, you are very, very likely to repeat the behaviour.

I hope you find this useful, anon

[doggerell]

tearing up over sorry that I wish that I was dead and isnt that what art should do and Im not well and it sounds small but its everything to me and when I was young I didnt know how to love myself or anyone else and I owe it all to being sober. but like whatever I dont even care.

[theothin]

Copying over my comment from this post since the original now has reblogs turned off:

It's interesting to consider all of this in full context of how Toshiro is framed in the scene. The argument starts with Toshiro insisting that Marcille was wrong to revive Falin with black magic and that she should go back with him to face punishment from elvish society, then get their help in putting Falin to rest. Laios argues that they can actually help Falin, and that eating properly gives them the strength to pull it off, at which point Toshiro tries to shut Laios down by throwing his past frustrations in his face. When Laios eventually overpowers Toshiro, he attributes it to his party taking proper care of themselves, at which point Senshi shows up to offer Toshiro food. Meanwhile, Maizuru expresses frustration at Toshiro's behavior, and when Toshiro talks about his out-of-the-blue proposal to Falin, Mickbell questions why he would do something like that, while Chilchuck remarks that it's the kind of world he lives in. Every part of Toshiro's position here comes across as antithetical to the protagonists and the quest we're following them on. Even other characters present don't seem to think much of his behavior here. And, while playing that antagonistic role, we see him imposing those social standards on someone who finds them confusing and alienating. The result is that the primary lens through which the viewer is encouraged to see the scene is that of an autistic person being berated for not living up to a set of social standards, and in particular not meeting the standards of Japanese society. And while a Japanese audience might find it easier to understand why Toshiro thinks the way he does, the scene is very clear in sending the message that he is wrong and that, as previous comments noted, he's been stuck in a mindset that's hurting both him and Laios. The outcome of the fight suggests that Toshiro would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about food - and I think the audience is also meant to feel that Toshiro would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about people.

And the addition from @delvinanaris:

More than that, Toshiro’s last line of that scene—expressing his envy of Laios—suggests that he, too, feels that he would benefit from learning to think more like Laios about people.

Also here's the original tweet and a great comment on it:

[martiansodas-blog]

too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

Xx

The first time 

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?” 

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to. 

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late. 

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,” 

You sway him from side to side. 

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper. 

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby. 

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him. 

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair. 

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?” 

You twist one of his curls in your fingers. 

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.” 

Your heart broke for him. 

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better. 

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him. 

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.” 

Art froze. 

Well, that’s new. 

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.” 

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle. 

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.” 

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands. 

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck. 

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods. 

It causes you to giggle. 

“Thank you.” 

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin. 

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet. 

I could do this all day. 

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.” 

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.” 

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied. 

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him. 

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him. 

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath. 

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before. 

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest. 

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat. 

“You won’t.” 

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy. 

His tongue reaches new trenches. 

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal.  His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips. 

“Shit. Just like that.” 

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue. 

“Oh god, oh god,” 

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first. 

The only thing he knew was your body. 

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release. 

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory. 

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?” 

He whimpered and nodded. 

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast. 

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable. 

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave. 

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in. 

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth. 

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to. 

“Such a good boy.” 

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition. 

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock. 

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more. 

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished. 

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.” 

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing. 

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.” 

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb. 

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now. 

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.” 

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that. 

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.” 

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.” 

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth. 

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt. 

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him. 

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises. 

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead. 

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art. 

“Are you leaving?” 

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face. 

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back” 

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system. 

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.” 

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

[thedensworld]

What A Revenge | Y.Jh

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader

Genre: revenge AU, marriage contract AU, triangle love ft. seungcheol

Summary: After an unexpected rendezvous after a one night stand, Jeonghan asked Mingyu to set him up with you. However you had a different situation and it's getting complicated.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"I'm going to get married,"

Jeonghan's words hung in the air, seemingly simple to himself, but the impact on his family was profound. His grandfather, the current president of the company, raised a stern brow, his expression betraying both surprise and concern. Seungcheol, his cousin, mirrored the disbelief, and even Jeonghan's parents scowled, their skepticism evident.

Caught off guard, Jeonghan's father coughed, attempting to redirect the conversation and attribute his son's statement to impulsive behavior. "He's joking, he might mean the merger that happened last—"

Jeonghan interrupted with unwavering determination, "No, I'm very serious. I'm going to get married in two months." The room fell into an uneasy silence as the weight of his announcement settled among the stunned family members.

Seungcheol nodded and carefully set down his utensils, his gaze fixed on Jeonghan. "Great news. Do we know that 'lucky' woman?" he asked, purposefully emphasizing the word 'lucky,' injecting a subtle pressure into the question. Jeonghan, however, remained oblivious to the underlying tone.

Responding with a genuine smile, Jeonghan said, "I don't think you know her, but she's an incredible person." Despite the sincerity in his words, uncertainty lingered in the air, as Jeonghan pondered the hidden implications behind Seungcheol's inquiry.

Seungcheol's father chimed in, attempting to cloak his words in a compliment, "It's really amazing if you want to marry her as soon as possible, Jeonghan." Yet, a trace of sarcasm tainted his tone, leaving Jeonghan to navigate the subtle complexities of the conversation. Unbeknownst to Seungcheol's father, Jeonghan saw through the facade, recognizing the bait successfully laid out before him. As the tension simmered, a storm of emotions churned within the room, each character concealing their true intentions beneath a veneer of polite conversation.

The grandfather, who had been an attentive observer throughout the conversation, cleared his throat and offered a proposition, "If you're being serious, you should introduce her to us. How about next week? Let's have a dinner with her here on Saturday night."

As Jeonghan exited his grandfather's house, a forced smile adorned his face. His parents confronted him after the dinner, their scolding fueled by a deep understanding of Jeonghan's tendency to prioritize work over personal relationships.

"Jeonghan, if this is just a card you're about to throw, let's stop whatever game you're planning on," his father cautioned before getting into the car. With a chuckle, Jeonghan responded, "It's just a small card for a start," his words carrying a hint of mystery as he watched his parents drive away. The air was thick with unspoken tension, leaving Jeonghan to navigate the intricate web of expectations and his own carefully crafted plans.

"Jeonghan, congratulations on finding the one," Seungcheol remarked, hands casually tucked into his pockets as he extended one for a handshake.

"Thanks," Jeonghan replied with a measured tone, accepting the handshake with a nod. Seungcheol positioned himself beside Jeonghan, a subtle quizzical expression on his face as he recalled, "Wasn't it just last year you told me that you won't get married?" Seungcheol reminisced about the conversation they had on Jeonghan's birthday, a stark reminder of the swift turns life can take.

Jeonghan nodded, his gaze lingering on some distant thought. "Yeah..."

A pregnant pause hung in the air as he reflected, "But this year is different."

"You know how marriage changes things, right?" Jeonghan redirected his gaze towards Seungcheol, inviting him into a conversation that seemed to be skirting the edges of unspoken dynamics.

"Marriage used to make your father a part of our family," Jeonghan continued, his words introducing an unexpected element into the discussion. Seungcheol's brows furrowed, the mention of his father injecting a note of discomfort.

"Marriage also used to elevate my father to today's position," Jeonghan added, drawing attention to his own family's success within the company. The complexity of intertwining relationships and power dynamics became apparent, leaving an unspoken tension in the room.

Jeonghan paused, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Marriage might also secure your position, into mine."

Seungcheol tilted his head, an unmistakable anger beginning to crawl across his face. Jeonghan, seemingly unfazed, patted his shoulder, delivering a cryptic message. "I have to go, Seungcheol," he announced, leaving behind a whirlwind of implications, leaving Seungcheol to grapple with the unexpected turn of events.

*

"Why was I informed this morning that you're going to get married?" Joshua's voice sliced through the air as he welcomed Jeonghan into his office, nearly sending Jeonghan into a heart attack as he crossed the threshold.

"That is true," Jeonghan replied calmly, though his heart raced with the unexpected confrontation. He settled into a chair, ready to dive into the day's tasks, but Joshua's demeanor gave him pause.

Joshua's brow furrowed into a scowl as he rolled his eyes, the tension palpable in the room. "Who are you going to marry?" he demanded, his tone tinged with disbelief and perhaps a hint of jealousy.

Jeonghan straightened in his seat, his expression serene despite the growing unease. "Ji Y/n. Do you know her?" he asked casually, attempting to diffuse the tension with a light tone.

Lee Jihoon, sensing the tension in the room, entered with two coffees and two sandwiches, silently offering a brief moment of distraction. But the tension lingered, thickening the air between the two men as they waited for Joshua's response.

"Here's for you, Mr. Hong," Jihoon said, setting down the extra coffee with practiced ease. Jeonghan couldn't help but marvel at Jihoon's efficiency, though he refrained from asking about the extra item, knowing Jihoon's reliability all too well.

"What's in my plate today, Jihoon?" Joshua inquired, his voice a blend of curiosity and authority.

Jihoon wasted no time in retrieving his boss's schedule. "You have a monthly meeting with the accounting and marketing departments at 9. After lunch, you have to attend the parents' semester meeting at Mingyu's school."

Jeonghan's smile widened at the mention of Mingyu's school, anticipation bubbling within him. He couldn't wait to see you there.

"Jihoon, did you know your boss is dating someone? He's going to get married in March," Joshua interjected casually, eager to share the surprising news with his loyal secretary.

"M-married? I-i never heard about that... Would you like me to put it into your schedule, Mr. Yoon?" Jihoon stammered, clearly taken aback by the bombshell revelation.

Joshua chuckled at Jihoon's shocked response, finding amusement in Jeonghan's apparent secrecy. He couldn't help but wonder if the information he received from his own secretary, Myungho, was indeed accurate. After all, Myungho had been informed by Moon Junhui, the main secretary of the vice president and Jeonghan's father.

"You can go, Jihoon. We'll discuss my schedule tomorrow," Jeonghan dismissed, taking a sip of his coffee before rising from his seat and approaching Joshua, who was lounging on the couch with an air of amusement.

"News spreads quicker than I thought," Jeonghan remarked, a hint of resignation in his tone. "And yes, I'm getting married in March."

"Who's Ji Y/n? Do I know her? Is she a celebrity?" Joshua inquired, his curiosity piqued by the mention of the mysterious fiancée.

Jeonghan shook his head, a wistful expression crossing his features. "She's just someone I've met two or three times. But she's the perfect match to be the wife of my grandfather's company vice president."

Joshua raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and skepticism evident on his face. "And here I thought you were giving up already... What's with the sudden passion to gain the title again?"

Jeonghan shrugged, his gaze distant as he recalled the events of the previous night's family dinner. "Playing games with Seungcheol is just too fun. I was just getting started, Josh. But it seems like everyone around him is already feeling the pressure."

Joshua regarded him with a mix of concern and understanding. "You do realize that whatever you're doing to Seungcheol now is pretty childish, right? You two were best friends and cousins."

A heavy silence settled between them, pregnant with unspoken truths and unresolved emotions. Jeonghan let out a deep sigh, grappling with the urge to reveal the true extent of Seungcheol's betrayal, the way he had callously discarded their friendship in pursuit of personal gain.

"Yeah, it was childish. But who cares?" Jeonghan's words hung in the air, tinged with bitterness and a hint of resignation, signaling the depth of his disillusionment with the situation.

*

You closed your eyes and let out a heavy breath as you sat on the toilet, the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on your shoulders. Thoughts of surviving until the next lesson and enduring the upcoming parents' meeting only added to your weariness. The morning had started with a call from the principal, informing you of a scandalous rumor circulating about you.

The rumor had spread like wildfire, fueled by a post in the school community depicting you with a man, entering a hotel together. The caption, scandalous and defamatory, branded you as a promiscuous teacher who slept around with men. The principal's warning echoed in your mind, the threat of potential expulsion looming over you like a dark cloud.

Your hands found their way to your face, as if trying to physically dispel the exhaustion and frustration building within you. You had zero energy left to address the rumor, overwhelmed by the weight of everything on your plate. And no one seemed to care. Other teachers openly mocked you, discussing the false rumors in front of you as if you were invisible. You had no illusions that the students would act any differently; they seemed to thrive on the scandal, eagerly spreading and embellishing the gossip as if it were gospel truth. It was a lonely and disheartening realization, one that left you feeling isolated and helpless in the face of malicious rumors and indifference.

"Being a teacher is hard, we get paid less too. Sleeping around and getting paid after was easier. No wonder she would do that," you heard someone comment as they entered the room.

"But isn't she taken? She was engaged," another voice interjected, prompting another heavy sigh from you.

"What do you mean engaged? They broke off the engagement two years ago. I guess this must be the reason behind it. I can't believe Ms. Ji would do such a thing," another voice chimed in, the words cutting through you like a knife.

With a resolve born out of frustration and indignation, you stood and opened the door, confronting the group of gossiping teachers who stood in front of the mirror. They were momentarily stunned by your presence, their mouths tightening in discomfort before one of them coughed awkwardly.

"Is the rumor true, Ms. Ji?" one of them finally dared to ask, their eyes darting nervously between you and their companions.

You forced a smile, though it felt like a mask slipping over the turmoil brewing inside you. "We're in school. I don't think it's a proper topic for conversation," you replied evenly, your voice betraying none of the hurt and anger swirling within you.

The teachers exchanged knowing glances before one of them spoke up again, their words dripping with disdain. "Then be a proper teacher first. Not the one who sleeps around and gets caught."

The accusation hung in the air like a poison, the weight of their judgment heavy on your shoulders as you stood there, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the face of their gossip. It was a bitter reminder of the harsh reality of navigating the treacherous waters of rumor and reputation as a teacher, where even the slightest whisper of scandal could tarnish your name irreparably.

Without giving much thought to the gossiping teachers, you exited the restroom and made your way to your office. Your next lesson awaited, and you refused to let the venomous words of your colleagues ruin your mood.

Upon entering the classroom, your eyes immediately found Mingyu. A pang of guilt stabbed at your heart as you remembered the photos of you and his uncle entering the hotel, a revelation that still unsettled you. You tried to push aside the distraction, focusing instead on the task at hand.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the class ahead, and began by greeting the students. As expected, the atmosphere was cold and indifferent, the once respectful and attentive students now treating you with disdain and disregard. It was a stark contrast to the camaraderie and engagement you had previously enjoyed in your classroom, and it cut deeply.

Exhaling another heavy sigh, you couldn't help but wonder what sin you had committed to deserve such treatment. Whoever had posted those photos and spread the malicious rumors must have harbored a deep-seated hatred towards you. The thought gnawed at your conscience, leaving you feeling isolated and misunderstood. Despite your efforts to remain composed, the weight of the situation bore down on you, casting a shadow over what should have been a normal day of teaching.

"As you already knew, Korean culture has influenced a lot by—" your words were abruptly interrupted by the harsh creak of the door swinging open. Startled, you shifted your gaze from your students to the source of the distraction, and there stood a familiar figure, her presence commanding the room's attention. She was one of your students' guardians.

Slap.

A collective gasp filled the room as the palm of her hand collided with your cheek. A tingling sensation spread across your skin, leaving a trail of discomfort in its wake. You could feel the heat rising to your face, and you knew there would be a red mark left behind.

Unable to find your voice amidst the shock, you remained silent, but the tension in the room was palpable. Amidst the chaos, a hushed whisper broke the silence as one of your students stood from her seat and muttered, "Mom..."

"How dare you, an inappropriate teacher, teach my daughter! You're nothing but a slut who sleeps around," the guardian accused, her words dripping with disdain and contempt.

The weight of her accusation hit you like a ton of bricks, and a mix of emotions swirled within you – shock, disbelief, and a profound sense of injustice. It was a moment that would linger in your memory, forever etched as a painful reminder of the challenges you faced as a teacher, and the harsh judgments you endured from those who were quick to condemn without understanding.

Her voice reverberated loudly enough that nearby teachers from neighboring classrooms began to intervene. You stood there, feeling like an idiot for failing to protect yourself from those rumors and remaining silent about them. Your pride as a teacher crumbled, leaving you feeling vulnerable and incompetent as you struggled to explain the situation.

A fellow teacher stepped forward and gently took your arm, guiding you out of the classroom to avoid further disruption to the students' studies. Mr. Lee, with a reassuring smile, assured you that he would take care of your class and that you didn't need to worry.

Now, standing in the principal's office, you felt a sense of unease settle over you as the woman who had slapped you and Mr. Park, the principal himself, sat on the couch. You found it difficult to articulate the truth when they asked you about the rumors. Explaining the reality of the situation felt impossible, as it would only lend credence to the false accusations of promiscuity.

"So, is the rumor true?" the woman demanded, her tone accusatory.

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "It's not true, ma'am."

"Then explain the pictures," Mr. Park pressed, his expression stern.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on you. How could you possibly explain the truth without incriminating yourself further? The mere mention of the photos filled you with dread, knowing that they only served to further tarnish your reputation and cast doubt on your integrity.

You winced as Mrs. Jung's voice rang out, her words hitting you like a physical blow. Your legs threatened to give out beneath you as she mentioned the possibility of being fired, and the thought of her daughter being taught by someone like you filled you with a sense of dread and shame.

She didn't stop there, escalating her threats by invoking her husband's position at Nevitech, leveraging it to expedite the process of your dismissal. The mention of a meeting with the school foundation's board sent a chill down your spine, knowing that your fate hung precariously in the balance.

Before Mr. Park could respond, the door swung open, revealing someone of great importance to him. Both Mr. Park and Mrs. Jung immediately rose to their feet as the person they had mentioned earlier entered the principal's office – none other than the Chairman himself.

You dared not meet his gaze, fully aware of who he was and the reason for his unexpected visit before the scheduled meeting later in the afternoon.

"I was going to visit before the parents meeting, but I heard that we have some not very nice rumors surrounding," Choi Seungcheol, the Chairman, stated as he entered the room, declining Mr. Park's handshake in favor of approaching you directly.

With gentle concern in his voice, he held your shoulders and guided you to sit on one of the sofas. "Are you okay? You should sit," he said softly, his comforting gesture a stark contrast to the hostility that had filled the room moments before.

Mr. Park seemed taken aback by how Seungcheol treated you. "Mr. Choi, it's very nice to see you, but... Do you know Ms. Ji?"

Seungcheol nodded before he settled himself beside you, his gaze drifting over your demeanor. He couldn't help but notice the faint red stain on your cheek, a stark reminder of the recent altercation. His secretary had driven like a madman to get here upon hearing your name mentioned in connection with the troubling rumors at the school. Seungcheol was one of the few people who knew just how passionate you were about teaching.

"She's... a friend," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he glanced at Mr. Park. "However, I overheard someone mentioning a board meeting. Mr. Lee, am I available in the near future?"

"I am afraid you are, sir," Mr. Lee, Seungcheol's secretary, replied promptly.

Seungcheol smiled at Mrs. Jung and Mr. Park, though the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm really disappointed by how you've failed to protect one of your staff, Mr. Park. I thought you were better at handling this kind of situation."

Mr. Park's expression immediately turned contrite as he bowed in apology. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Choi."

"And your husband's name, Ma'am?" Seungcheol's tone was firm, his disappointment evident. "I can't believe that someone in my company would use his position to target the vulnerable."

Following Mr. Park's lead, Mrs. Jung also bowed in apology for causing a scene and invoking her husband's position. "I acted recklessly, Mr. Choi."

Seungcheol shook his head, his gaze turning towards you. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. Ms. Ji is. I've known her long enough to realize she's a potential teacher with a lot of ambition. She's denied the rumors, and it's Mr. Park's responsibility to find out who's behind them."

Mr. Park bowed once again, his determination evident. "Yes, I'll find the culprit immediately, sir."

As the tension in the room began to ease slightly, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you.

*

Seungcheol settled beside you on the school park bench mere minutes after you both stepped out of the principal's office. He handed you a cold water bottle and gently urged you to press it against your stinging cheek. Your eyes couldn't help but notice the gleam of an engagement ring still adorning his finger, a painful feeling hit you like a truck.

"I'm sorry for what happened," he mumbled softly, his gaze lingering on your face.

You nodded in acknowledgment of his words, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. The humiliation of the recent events weighed heavily on you, and you felt a sense of shame that made it impossible to look anyone in the eye. Your pride had been shattered, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Seungcheol's presence beside you offered a small measure of comfort, but it also served as a painful reminder of what could never be. The gap between you felt insurmountable, a chasm of misunderstanding and regret that seemed impossible to bridge. As you sat there in silence, the weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over any hope of resolution or reconciliation.

"It's been a long time, and meeting you again like this... I'm glad, I honestly really am," he said, offering a gentle smile.

"How do you know?" You asked, turning your head to face him. This time, your eyes met for the first time since two years ago, when he broke off the engagement and left you in the apartment, shattered and alone. The memories flooded back – the exact moment, the chilling air, the crushing weight of heartbreak. And as you looked into his eyes now, it felt like your heart was breaking all over again.

"Seokmin told me about the rumors, and his brother updates him on what's happening in this school," he explained. "They're really great siblings, even though they don't look alike at all."

You found yourself contemplating Lee Seokmin and Lee Chan, the PE teacher. Despite the turmoil, you made a mental note to treat Mr. Lee to a nice meal once everything had settled.

"Thanks," you said softly, leaning back against the bench. The weight of the day's events pressed heavily upon you, but Seungcheol's presence offered a glimmer of solace amidst the chaos. It was a bittersweet reunion, tinged with the ache of unresolved emotions and the lingering sting of past wounds.

Seungcheol looked at you, his expression a mix of bewilderment and uncertainty. He blinked, then chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah..."

"Why?" you asked, curious about his reaction.

"It's just new to me, that you're not mad. I thought you were upset because I helped you earlier," he admitted, shaking his head slightly.

You managed a faint smile at his confession. "But, it's nothing. You're a friend to me."

Friend. The word echoed in your mind, stirring up a mix of emotions you tried to suppress. You nodded along with his words, though each one stung a little.

"Ji Y/n..."

You looked up to see Yoon Jeonghan breathlessly running toward you, suddenly enveloping you in his embrace. "Are you alright, honey?"

You winced at the pet name Jeonghan called you, feeling a twinge of discomfort at the familiarity. Seungcheol, on the other hand, remained stone cold as he observed his cousin immediately pull you into a tight hug. It all clicked into place for Seungcheol when he noticed Jeonghan scrutinizing you, his hands gently caressing your cheeks. The realization dawned on him as he connected the dots between the guy in the photo with you and Jeonghan.

Taking a step back, Seungcheol watched in silence as Jeonghan continued to dote on you, his demeanor strikingly different from his usual self. He couldn't help but notice how your face flushed in Jeonghan's presence, a stark contrast to the lack of reaction when you were with him earlier. The sight tugged at Seungcheol's heart, igniting a pang of jealousy that he struggled to suppress.

As he glanced down at his engagement ring, a reminder of his enduring love for you, Seungcheol felt a heaviness settle in his chest. Despite his efforts to keep his emotions in check, he couldn't deny the ache of longing that gnawed at him.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, Seungcheol met Jeonghan's gaze, realizing that his cousin had noticed him standing silently behind you all this time. The tension in the air was palpable, each of them silently grappling with their own emotions and desires amidst the tangled web of relationships and unspoken truths.

"Seungcheol, this is Jeonghan, a—”

"Boyfriend," Jeonghan interjected smoothly, completing the sentence in a single beat. Seungcheol hoped his ears were playing tricks on him, but the way Jeonghan's hand rested possessively on your waist confirmed his worst fears.

"We've known each other, honey," Jeonghan added, his tone casual as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Seungcheol couldn't bring himself to focus on the conversation between the couple. His mind was consumed by thoughts of how much you had changed over time, in all the ways that mattered. He couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in your demeanor, the way your smile seemed brighter and your laughter more carefree.

But amidst his admiration, a sense of impending doom loomed over him. He knew he was doomed to leave you, trapped by obligations and expectations that threatened to tear them apart. As he watched you with Jeonghan, the weight of his decision pressed heavily upon him, a burden he couldn't shake no matter how hard he tried.

*

Convincing you to marry him was surprisingly easier than Jeonghan had anticipated. After conducting research on you, Jeonghan's people unearthed a few key facts that could sway you in his favor:

1. You were Seungcheol's ex-fiancée.

2. You were currently facing financial instability.

3. Your father required a costly neurological surgery.

Of course, Jeonghan didn't reveal his knowledge of your past relationship with Seungcheol. That was merely a piece of leverage he intended to exploit along the way. However, when he mentioned his willingness to assist with your father's surgery, he noticed a flicker of consideration in your eyes—a promising start.

With the help of Mingyu, Jeonghan arranged a meeting with you to present his proposal. Although you hadn't given him a definitive answer yet, the mere fact that you were considering it was a small victory for Jeonghan. He was impatient to move forward, eager to unveil the next card in his carefully crafted plan—a contractual marriage that would benefit both of you.

In just two years' time, Jeonghan envisioned achieving his goals. He would ensure your needs were met, take responsibility for your father's health, and inch closer to inheriting his grandfather's company, Golden Group. The prospect of success fueled Jeonghan's determination, driving him to push forward with his calculated scheme, even as he grappled with the moral implications of his actions.

"Let's have a check and sue that woman," Jeonghan said as he turned on the car engine, promising to take you home after the incident that had occurred at school.

"Let's do that..." you responded, your voice resolute.

Jeonghan turned his head to you, unable to comprehend the meaning behind your words. "Do wha—"

"Let's get married."

Jeonghan jolted, his foot instinctively pressing on the brake. "You serious?"

You nodded firmly, your determination shining through. "Yeah... When is the wedding going to be held, as you said?"

Jeonghan blinked in astonishment, trying to process the fact that you had accepted his proposal so quickly. He had given you a month to think it over, but it had only been a week, and you were already giving him an answer. Was it related to your meeting with Seungcheol earlier? He made a mental note to ask you about it later; he was curious how Seungcheol had been there before him.

"In two months," he replied, still trying to wrap his head around the sudden turn of events.

You nodded, your gaze unwavering. "You promised to do the things you said on the paper, didn't you?"

A smirk tugged at the corners of Jeonghan's lips as he raised an eyebrow. "Of course, honey."

*

Marriage Contract

This agreement is entered into on March 21st between Yoon Jeonghan, hereinafter referred to as the "First Party," and Ji Y/n, hereinafter referred to as the "Second Party."

Terms and Conditions:

1. Living Arrangements:

- Both parties agree to reside under the same roof, with the option of separate rooms. However, in the event of family visits, both parties are obliged to share the same room.

2. Schedule Adaptation:

- The Second Party shall adapt their schedule to accommodate the needs of the First Party. The Second Party is obligated to accompany the First Party to any events or commitments the First Party has in the future.

3. Public Display of Affection:

- Both parties agree to engage in displays of affection, referred to as "skinship," in public settings.

4. Responsibilities:

- The Second Party agrees to accept all responsibilities, including but not limited to health, wealth, and familial matters, under the guidance and direction of the First Party.

5. Monogamy:

- Both parties agree to maintain a monogamous relationship and refrain from engaging in any form of open relationship or extramarital affairs.

6. Intimacy:

- Intimate activities between the parties shall be conducted with mutual consent.

Term and Termination:

This Contract shall remain in effect indefinitely unless terminated by mutual agreement or as provided by law.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties hereto have executed this Contract as of the date first written above.

Yoon Jeonghan

Ji Y/n

*

Jeonghan let out a heavy sigh as he surveyed yet another suit in the store. When he had stepped into the shop, he had a simple mantra in mind: "Let's keep it simple." Little did he know that his own mother would be present, ready to torture him with her choices of suits and gowns for both him and you.

"Oh my goodness, look at you!" His mother's voice cut through the air, drawing Jeonghan's attention away from the report his secretary had sent him. He glanced up to see you standing before him, adorned in the most beautiful bridal gown he had ever seen. While he admittedly had zero knowledge about women's fashion, particularly bridal gowns, there was no denying the breathtaking elegance of the dress. And yet, he couldn't determine if it was the gown itself or simply the way you wore it that made it so captivating.

Lost in his thoughts, Jeonghan didn't realize he had been staring at you until he heard a sob emanate from his mother. He quickly approached her, finding her engulfing you in a tight hug while tears streamed down her cheeks. Confusion flickered in his eyes as he exchanged a questioning look with you, but you mirrored his expression of bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you could stain the gown with your tears and makeup," the staff said gently, causing Jeonghan's mother to pull away from you, wiping her tears away with trembling hands. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of sadness and longing as she looked at him. "It reminds me of your sister."

Jeonghan felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he watched his mother struggle to compose herself. He had never seen her so vulnerable before, her emotions laid bare in front of him. The weight of his actions suddenly became all too real to him, realizing that the game he was playing was causing genuine pain to the woman who had always supported him.

As he looked at his mother, her eyes mirroring the grief she still carried for his sister, Jeonghan's heart sank. He knew he couldn't continue down this path, hurting those he loved in the process. It was a sobering moment for him, a realization that there were consequences to his actions beyond the thrill of the game.

Strike one, for the first time he started feel bad playing his own game.

You and Jeonghan spent the time afterward visiting your father in the nursery. His surgery was scheduled after your wedding, and he was visibly excited to hear about your upcoming nuptials. As you approached your father's room, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety fluttered in your chest.

Before Jeonghan could enter the room, you gently placed a hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He looked at you, surprised by the sudden halt, but as he met your gaze, he saw the subtle warning in your eyes. Without uttering a word, you were conveying a message to him, a silent plea to be understanding and patient.

"Whatever he's going to say, and if it's hurting you, he doesn't mean it, okay?" you whispered to Jeonghan, your voice laced with a mixture of concern and affection. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was an undeniable warmth in your tone, a reflection of the deep love you held for your father despite his flaws.

Jeonghan's smile widened, a genuine expression of understanding dawning on his features. In that moment, he realized just how much you cared for your father. However, willing to shield Jeonghan from any potential hurtful words, is it also caring?

"Is it my princess, Y/n?" Your father's voice quivered with affection as he watched you approach, a tender smile gracing his lips. You embraced him dearly, holding onto him as if to capture every precious moment in your heart. Jeonghan stood behind you, observing the intimate moment with quiet patience, his gaze filled with admiration for the bond you shared with your father.

As your father turned his attention to Jeonghan, his expression shifted, surprise evident in his features. "And who is this?" he inquired, curiosity tinged with a hint of suspicion.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable confrontation. "This is Yoon Jeonghan, my fiancé," you announced, your voice steady despite the internal turmoil.

A flicker of confusion crossed your father's face. "Isn't your fiancé Seungcheol?" he asked, his words cutting through the air like a sharp knife.

You glanced at Jeonghan, a silent apology reflected in your eyes. "What are you talking about, Dad? Seungcheol and I broke up years ago," you explained softly, your voice laced with pain as memories of the past resurfaced, threatening to overwhelm you.

"Why?" Your father's question hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the heartache you had endured. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words to explain.

Sensing your sudden distress, Jeonghan stepped forward, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of turmoil. With a respectful bow, he introduced himself to your father, his voice steady and reassuring. "Nice to meet you, Father. I'm Yoon Jeonghan, your princess's fiancé," he declared with unwavering conviction, his words echoing with sincerity and determination.

Your father nodded in acknowledgment of Jeonghan's words, a flicker of interest sparking in his eyes as he glanced at the chess set laid out on the table. "Y/n said you like playing chess. I was an athlete back in high school," Jeonghan remarked, trying to find common ground with your father.

"Really?" Your father's tone held a hint of intrigue as he considered Jeonghan's offer. "Let's play chess then. It's been a long time since I played with someone younger. I get easily bored every time I play with my wife and my brother," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with anticipation at the prospect of a new opponent.

The drive to your house was quiet, the tension in the air palpable as everyone processed the events of the day. Despite the outward appearance of calm, Jeonghan couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. He stole glances at you multiple times, noticing the subtle shifts in your mood and demeanor.

"Your father knows Seungcheol..." Jeonghan mumbled softly, breaking the silence that had settled over them. You hummed in response, a faint furrow forming between your brows as you contemplated his words.

"What's wrong with you and Seungcheol?" Jeonghan's inquiry hung in the air, his voice gentle yet probing.

You let out a weary sigh, the weight of the past weighing heavily on your shoulders. "We just couldn't find it easy to be together," you admitted, your words tinged with a hint of resignation.

Jeonghan sensed that there was more to the story than you were letting on. "Is it his family?" he ventured, his intuition guiding him to a possible source of conflict.

"One of them..." you replied cryptically, your gaze drifting away as memories of past confrontations resurfaced. It was clear to Jeonghan that there were deeper issues at play, hidden beneath the surface of your relationship with Seungcheol.

Nodding in understanding, Jeonghan silently acknowledged the complexities of familial dynamics and the toll they could take on a relationship. Despite the lack of explicit details, he could empathize with your struggles, recognizing that Seungcheol's family could indeed be a source of pain and discord.

"My father's brain function was damaged after a car accident two years ago," you confessed, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. The memory of that tragic day seemed to linger, casting a shadow over the present. "The accident sent my mother and my uncle into death. My father was in a coma for three months before he regained consciousness."

As you spoke, Jeonghan listened intently, his heart aching with empathy for the pain you had endured. The devastation of losing loved ones and witnessing your father's struggle with dementia painted a grim picture of the challenges you faced.

"He has had to undergo multiple surgeries to try and recover from the dementia," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "But I can't afford it. His business went bankrupt, and I'm just a teacher."

Jeonghan's heart sank as he absorbed the gravity of your words. The enormity of the situation weighed heavily on him, and he felt a surge of guilt wash over him. Here you were, facing insurmountable obstacles, while he had been blissfully unaware of the extent of your struggles.

"You don't have to worry now," Jeonghan promised solemnly, his voice filled with determination. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against you, he was determined to stand by your side and offer whatever support he could muster. Yet, despite his pledge, he couldn't shake the gnawing sense of guilt that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Strike two, he thought to himself, he felt worse.

*

An hour before the wedding vows, Jeonghan was bustling about, greeting guests with a practiced smile plastered on his face. It was a skill he had honed in the days leading up to this momentous occasion. Amidst the sea of well-wishers, he excused himself briefly, informing the parents that he needed to see you for a moment.

Walking briskly to the room where you were seated, Jeonghan's heart skipped a beat as he pushed the door open. To his surprise, he found Seungcheol engaged in conversation with you. Pausing at the threshold, he hesitated, unwilling to intrude on the private moment.

"Your father thought I was the groom," Seungcheol's voice carried a hint of determination, breaking the tense silence that hung in the air.

"Let's not talk about that," you responded softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood before him in your wedding dress. The weight of the impending ceremony seemed to hang heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room as you prepared to walk down the aisle with your father.

Jeonghan stood rooted to the spot, his heart heavy with a mixture of emotions. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, a pang of insecurity gnawed at him as he observed the exchange between you and Seungcheol.

"Your father, he thought I was the groom! What's going on here, Y/n? Tell me!" Seungcheol's voice rose with frustration as he grabbed your arm, his tone demanding answers. Jeonghan, on the verge of intervening, paused at the threshold, uncertain of his next move.

Before he could react, however, he watched in astonishment as you swiftly maneuvered out of Seungcheol's grasp. In a moment of unexpected boldness, you raised your hand and delivered a resounding slap across Seungcheol's face. Jeonghan gasped, instinctively covering his mouth in shock at the sudden turn of events.

"Stop being an asshole and fucking grow up!" you admonished, your voice laced with a mix of anger and hurt. "You left me crumbled that time, and you didn't even reach out to me until two months ago. So stop, Seungcheol. Just stop it!"

The room fell into stunned silence as the weight of your words hung heavy in the air. Jeonghan watched in awe as you stood your ground, refusing to be intimidated or manipulated any longer. In that moment, you were a force to be reckoned with, asserting your independence and reclaiming your power.

Seungcheol recoiled from the force of your slap, his hand instinctively rising to his cheek as he processed your words. There was a flicker of remorse in his eyes, a realization dawning on him as he confronted the consequences of his actions. As the tension in the room lingered, Jeonghan felt a surge of admiration for you, marveling at your strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

"Do you love him?" Seungcheol's question hung in the air, the tension palpable as everyone awaited your response. Jeonghan's heart pinched at the mere thought of your answer, his emotions swirling with a mix of apprehension and longing.

"No," you replied firmly, your voice unwavering despite the weight of the question.

Jeonghan's breath caught in his throat, a pang of hope blossoming in his chest at your words. Yet, even as relief washed over him, he couldn't shake the ache of uncertainty that lingered within him.

"Then why did you choose him?" Seungcheol pressed, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

Your response was simple yet profound, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Because," you began, your voice steady as you met Seungcheol's gaze, "he never left me."

As the weight of your words settled over the room, Jeonghan felt a surge of emotion welling up within him. Jeonghan's heart swelled with a profound sense of gratitude and determination.

As Seungcheol stepped out of the room, Jeonghan immediately retreated into the shadows, concealing himself until the coast was clear. Then, with a mischievous smirk and a round of applause, he made his grand entrance, acknowledging your earlier stunt with admiration.

"Revenge done, princess?" Jeonghan teased, his tone playful as he approached you.

You let out a heavy sigh, your hand still tingling from the force of the slap you had delivered to Seungcheol moments ago. "It's hurt," you admitted, showing him your reddened palm.

Jeonghan gently took your hand in his, blowing on it softly in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. "That's the feeling of revenge, babe," he remarked with a smirk. "It's hurt, but satisfying."

Despite the pain in your hand, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you gazed into Jeonghan's eyes. There was a warmth in his touch, a reassurance that you were not alone in this battle. In that moment, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his unwavering support and understanding.

As you shared a lighthearted moment together, a flicker of doubt crossed Jeonghan's mind. Did he ever mention that you were the perfect suitor to be the wife of the Golden Group Vice President?

*

"Can I ask you a favor?" you ventured, your voice hesitant as you sat across from Jeonghan in his office two weeks before the wedding, discussing the contracts that needed to be finalized.

"Let me hear it first," Jeonghan replied, crossing his legs and leaning back on the couch, his eyes fixed intently on yours.

"It's about Seungcheol," you began, your words causing Jeonghan's brows to furrow in concern. The mention of his cousin seemed to strike a nerve, his expression darkening with an underlying tension.

Jeonghan's gaze bore into yours as he sought clarity. "You still love him?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

You shook your head vehemently, dismissing any notion of lingering affection. "That's not what I mean," you clarified. "Listen, I want revenge."

Jeonghan's features softened slightly as he processed your words, a glimmer of understanding dawning in his eyes. Despite his initial apprehension, he recognized the fire in your gaze, the determination to right the wrongs of the past.

Jeonghan's head tilted slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Revenge on Seungcheol?" he questioned, seeking confirmation from you. You nodded solemnly, steeling yourself for the task ahead.

"I need to know the details first," Jeonghan smirked, a hint of excitement dancing in his eyes. He had been itching to uncover the truth behind Seungcheol's actions, eager to unravel the mystery that had plagued your past.

A pregnant silence hung in the air as you gathered your thoughts, preparing to delve into the painful memories that still lingered within you. "He basically chose his career over me," you began, your voice tinged with bitterness as you recounted the events of two years ago.

As you spoke, Jeonghan leaned in closer, his gaze fixed intently on you as he listened with rapt attention. There was a hunger in his eyes, a desire to understand the depths of your pain and the reasons behind Seungcheol's betrayal.

"I just... don't understand why he suddenly has an obsession to lead his grandfather's company," you confessed, your voice tinged with frustration and confusion. "He changed into Seungcheol that I don't know. We argued for months, and he suddenly said that I was the reason his career was undeveloped. He broke off our engagement the next day and left me."

Jeonghan listened intently to your story, his eyes widening in disbelief at the revelation. Memories of his own strained relationship with Seungcheol flooded his mind, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. He recalled the pressure Seungcheol had faced from his parents to inherit the family business, and how their friendship had begun to drift apart as a result.

As you continued to recount the events that led to your breakup, Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for you. It was clear that both of you had been unfairly blamed for Seungcheol's own insecurities and ambitions.

With a newfound determination, Jeonghan resolved to help you seek justice and closure. He understood now the depth of the pain you had endured, and he was more than willing to stand by your side as you embarked on this journey of revenge.

As you outlined your plan for revenge, Jeonghan couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for your resilience. Despite the pain and heartache you had endured, you refused to be a victim, instead choosing to take control of your own destiny. With a silent nod, Jeonghan signaled his agreement, ready to stand by your side as you embarked on this journey of retribution.

Revenge on Choi Seungcheol? He is happy to help.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where the Cut The Camera Podcast comes to an end and Matt feels emotional about it, but Y/N is there to comfort him.

WARNING: Sad talk, crying.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The time had come to say goodbye to the Cut The Camera Podcast.

If Y/N said her eyes weren't filled with trapped tears that she was fighting so hard not to spill, she would be lying.

The girl was sitting on the floor on one of the fluffy pink cushion that decorated the Podcast studio, her back was pressed against the door next to the stairs as she silently listened to what the boys were saying, looking up to them from time to time.

That was a habit she had created months before, practically since the beginning of the Podcast, where she would simply enter the studio with the boys and accompany their filming while sitting in the same exact place on the floor with her phone in hand, not being seen by any camera, nor heard by any of the high-resolution microphones.

It was always a different adventure to be there. If her mood was down, the boys' jokes made her laugh until her stomach hurt. Sometimes, she herself attributed a different fact to one of the topics that Nick brought up or gave them an idea when creativity ran out before they reached the one hour mark.

She lost count of how many times she turned on the air conditioning when Nick felt too hot or brought Matt and Chris a hoodie when they were too cold. Many times having left the studio quickly to get water or some drinks from the kitchen for one of the three when noticing their voices hoarse from thirst and the amount of minutes spent talking without a pause.

With all this being said, the brothers could say that she actively participated in the podcast and its environment without necessarily appearing in it.

So, it was no surprise that in that episode she was without her phone in hand, sitting in her usual spot, with her head practically completely covered by the hood of her hoodie and a sad look resting on her face.

Her eyes traveled between the triplets at all times, ready to jump in and console them if she noticed any tears appearing, knowing how difficult it was to finish that cycle - despite also knowing how necessary it was for their growth.

The recording was coming to an end, and Y/N felt her chest heavy, even though she was extremely happy and looking forward to the three's new individual and group projects.

Part of her scolded herself for being so emotional, maybe because she didn't feel she had the right to, since she wasn't even part of the channel. Or maybe because the boys seemed perfectly fine and happy with its ending, but she knew they were just resigned to it.

"It feels like just yesterday we started it." Chris began the ending, turning his face to Nick while playing with his microphone with his right hand. "I actually can't believe how long we've been doing this. I'm happy it's over, but I'm happy it happened."

"Oh my God... I'm happy it's over, but I'm happy it happened." Nick repeated, focusing his eyes on the ceiling for a few seconds, and Y/N was almost sure he was holding back his tears.

"That was good, right?" Chris chuckled, crossing his arms on the table and tilting his head.

"I did like it." The oldest of the triplets nodded, a thoughtful look resting on his face. "But, before we continue ending it, I think we should call a special person, who is as much a part of this podcast as we are." He brought his lips closer to his microphone, his eyes quickly meeting Y/N's. "Come here."

The girl took a deep breath, getting up from the floor and patting her pants lightly, uncreasing the slightly wrinkled fabric from her previous position.

Matt turned his head in her direction, looking at her with an almost imperceptible smile on his lips. He opened his arms, silently asking her to sit next to him, and she did.

Y/N settled down on the white and pink vintage couch, resting her back against the backrest and crossing her legs on the upholstery. Her left hand automatically found home on Matt's right thigh, stroking the covered skin lightly.

"All these months of Cut The Camera, Y/N has been with us. She literally sits on the floor, leaning against the door, right there..." Chris began, pointing his index finger towards the door, even though the camera couldn't reach the indicated space. "And listen to an hour and a few minutes of us talking about literally everything."

"She gave us ideas during some podcasts, complemented some topics with new information... In other words, she technically participated without appearing." Nick agreed with his brother, raising his index and middle fingers at each item mentioned.

"Yeah... Well, hi guys!" The girl glued her upper body against Matt's, bringing her face closer to the microphone, offering a small smile to the camera that looked back at her. "I'm sorry about my condition-"

"She was crying, I can tell." Nick interrupted her loudly, raising his right hand for a few seconds before lowering it again, receiving an eye roll from the girl in response.

"It's just..." Y/N closed her eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath before opening them again. "It's incredible to see it from my perspective. I've been in the boys' lives for a little more than 7 years, I've been accompanying them since before the Sturniolo Triplets channel began, especially since before Cut The Camera Podcast. I saw this dream born in their hearts more than two years ago..." She swallowed hard, feeling her eyes sting with new tears while clearing her throat slightly.

Matt moved his right hand up to her back, lightly caressing the covered skin before wrapping it around her waist firmly, pulling the microphone in his direction, giving her time to compose herself.

"It's true guys, she helped us build this whole studio, design it, decorate it... She had most of the ideas with Nick." The brunette pointed his head at his brother, who was watching him with his lips pressed together, nodding. "And she kept us company through the whole process."

Y/N sighed, lightly squeezing the skin of Matt's thigh still under her fingers, reassuring him that she was okay.

"Yes, exactly. But despite all that, I have no right to come and cry rivers and say words as if the world is ending. I mean, I'm not even in the channel." She let out a nasal laugh, shaking her head and fixing her eyes on the table, frowning before starting to talk again. "But I just wanted to say you guys did a great fucking job."

Her eyes lifted from the white wooden surface, traveling over Nick, who had his lips pressed into a thin line, looking at her with soft, attentive eyes; Chris, who was arranging his pink cap on his head in an act of nervousness, keeping his head low; and finally Matt, who had his eyes fixed on his own lap, without letting her see his face completely, but she knew he was listening to her words carefully.

"I'm sure that, like the Sturniolo Triplets channel, this podcast was a safe place for many people, perhaps an escape from life's problems or a moment to relax. Although you..." She quickly pointed to Nick. "Having said that many episodes didn't get you three anywhere, I'm sure they were still as important as the others for some people."

The sound of sniffing caught her attention. Y/N turned her head quickly towards her boyfriend, who still had his head down. Her eyes soon caught the small tears running down his cheeks and dripping on his blue hoodie, leaving a wet trail behind, which shone below the bright light of the expensive illumination.

The girl adjusted her posture, pulling him carefully so that her arms circled around his shoulders, hugging him close to her body. She arranged the microphone so that the support held it directly to her without her having to let go of Matt.

"I'm proud of you, boys. I know why this podcast is coming to an end, and I completely understand, just as I know they will, too..." Y/N pointed to the camera in front of her with her chin, not taking her hands off her boy for even a moment. "I know about the future plans of each of you, I helped you with some ideas, just like I just supported others, and I'm sure that all of them will give incredible results in the near future, which the entire fandom will be able to enjoy as much as they enjoy the current projects." She finished, her voice sounding weak.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, biting it hard in an attempt to hold back the sobs. Out of the four, Y/N was the most emotional, having been called a cry baby many times throughout her life since her crying came easily with any situation that made her heart sting.

Matt sighed, finally lifting his head and resting it against his girlfriend's one. Feeling comfort surrounded his body with Y/N's arms still securely wrapped around him, opening a small smile at the camera.

"I... I will be forever grateful for all these months, thanks to all of you." Chris's watery eyes searched Y/N's, receiving a nod in response, which gave him enough confidence to open a tearful smile.

"Goodbye campers, and good night." Nick finished slowly, as if he had been avoiding that moment during the entire 1 hour of recording. His fingers played with the support of his microphone nervously as his eyes traveled over his brothers and his best friend.

"Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs eat your feet." Matt brought his right cheek closer to Y/N's left one, murmuring into the microphone softly.

"Come here, lovie." Y/N whispered to Matt as soon as Nick did the small gesture he always did when they came to the end of recording.

Her arms - which were still around him - pulled him closer to her body, allowing him to lay his head on her left shoulder.

"I'm so proud of you." She sealed her lips over the brunette curls for long seconds, closing her eyes tightly as she felt his hoddie-covered shoulders tremble slightly under her grip, low sobbing sounds echoing through the pink walls.

Y/N swept her eyes around the studio, seeing Chris already standing and walking towards the stairs, his hands wiping away aggressively the thick tears that were flowing down his cheeks freely. Nick was still sitting, his arms resting on the table as he stared at the wooden surface intently, seeming to still process everything.

"It's okay, you did the right thing. Good things are coming."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"how come we never noticed that Y/N was there in every podcast? 🤯🤯"

"omg this is so sad but so exciting at the same time, I'm looking forward to the new projects 😔"

"Y/N being the emotional support of the three of them was the cutest thing I saw today 😭😭"

"honestly, if we put together the tears of the four and all the fans who are crying right now, we could make the planet overflow 😫✋🏻"

"on no, matt crying made my heart sting so bad ;(("

"I love how Y/N is always there with them, giving the right support and being an amazing girlfriend and best friend, they're a real family 🥺🥺"

"Y/N spill some spoilers about the new projects, we beg you 😭😭"

"Y/N and Matt are so beautiful together, they're really made for each other 🥺"

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[overnighttosunflowers]

I made a post about Laudna and Orym’s interaction in ep102 yesterday as it relates to Orym’s broader arc, but I wanted to follow it up with one more purely about Orym and Laudna’s relationship.

I think that on a fundamental level, Orym simply doesn’t understand Laudna. I don’t know if he’s aware of this. I do think he loves her. But I think that he also can’t stop seeing her as a symbol.

Orym has spent his whole life hearing about history by proxy. He’s one of the only party members with a history proficiency. He knows Keyleth, and he knows about the Sun Tree bodies. So when he learns about Laudna’s “worst thing that ever happened to her,” he sees her double: as his friend who suffered tremendously, and as the effigy of Vex that Delilah constructed.

And that weighs on him. We know it still does. When he spoke at Laudna’s res ritual in episode 38, he told her that she deserved to be more than a footnote in Delilah’s story. This was then echoed almost 60 full episodes later in episode 96 after swordgate, when he told her that she deserved her place in history as much or more. He continues to position her in relation to Delilah in a way that shows some part of his mind is always remembering that she was meant to be an NPC in someone else’s story: the way she died, the tool she was.

And that’s the other thing: that Orym has been the person most visibly uncomfortable with Laudna’s undead nature. It freaked him out long before he knew about the Sun Tree, and though he’s gotten used to it, he’s still hyperaware—we see this in his interaction with his sister in episode 66.

He defends Laudna sincerely, but he also seems self-conscious in a way that the transcript doesn’t fully capture. He knows Laudna is weird and he loves her despite it, not because of it. He still looks at her and sees a dead lady who happens to be Laudna, not Laudna who happens to be a dead lady.

There are other complicated elements to their relationship as well, of course. Swordgate, for instance, is indicative mostly of Orym’s (very human) tendency to act from his own trauma first before thinking about how it affects his friends, rather than anything specific to Laudna. But it did affect Laudna most of all. When he realized just how badly his taking up Otohan’s sword hurt Laudna, he vehemently threw it away—but not before he’d spent quite a while defending his right to bear it. Things had to really go south for him to stop and consider her experience. He loves Laudna, but he does not intuitively get her, and—even in better circumstances—he’s not always very good at stepping outside himself to try.

I thought it was interesting that Laudna wanted Orym specifically to be the one to kill her should the need arise. Obviously, this is most directly attributable to his status as the party member who “always does what’s right,” and on a secondary level it represents a meaningful shift in her relationship with Imogen: in episode 77, she’d asked Imogen to be the one to “make the right choice” if need be, but I think she now understands how impossible and torturous a request that is. Orym, though—Orym would be able to do it.

And he would. Not because he’s the infallible pillar of morality that the party thinks he is (which after all implies that killing Laudna to kill Delilah is the definitive “right” choice—something far more debatable than Laudna believes). Not just because he’s a soldier who follows orders even if they tear him apart inside. But because he’s able to see her as something other than herself. She’s his friend, but on some level, she’s still also the worst thing that ever happened to her. We even see this in the Delaudna battle itself—when he entreats Laudna to hear him and resurface, it’s by telling her that she’s suffered enough.

And for Laudna, being the worst thing that’s ever happened to her doesn’t mean being a symbol of someone else’s collateral damage. It means dying, and it means waking up with Delilah in her head. She thinks of herself as a person carrying around a monster, or on her worst days as inextricable from that monster or even as a monster herself. So if she senses that Orym can see her as something other than herself, surely he’s capable of seeing that, right?

Whether or not that’s true is debatable, and probably the subject of its own post. What’s important here is that Laudna knows Orym loves her but stands at a distance from her. That he’s able to see her as something other than a person in a way that Imogen never could. And whether that thing is a monster or a symbol of pain, that he sees her as something that has suffered enough to, if not kill out of righteousness, at least mercy kill.

So she lands on this. Surely he’ll do the right thing. He won’t want to. It might keep him up at night. But he will.

[ennas-aesthetic]

What the fuck is Jesus up to in Good Omens season 3?

This is a question I've been thinking long and hard these past couple of days and I have some THOUGHTS SO. Buckle up.

Aziraphale and Crowley watching the Crucifixion (Good Omens, 2019)

First off. The answer to the question posited is relatively simple. What is Jesus up to in GO3? With s2's ending in mind and with the hints we've gotten for 668: Neighbor of the Beast over the years, we know he's descending to Earth to initiate the Second Coming. And that Aziraphale would probably make that happen - or do everything that he can as Supreme Archangel to sabotage it.

But I wanted to examine on how Jesus might fit into Good Omens' overall narratives and established themes - about morality and humanism and free will, and. I'm just saying, there are A LOT of fascinating routes they could do for his character.

(Disclaimer as usual: this is a theory that I obsessed over when I was stuck at the cemetery during All Souls' Day and must be treated as such. In no way am I insisting this should be how canon events must happen. I am just doing this for the funsies.)

The THING about Jesus if you situate him in the world of Good Omens (with the assumption that most of the pop culture Christology mythos associated with him remain intact) is that in this context he very quickly becomes: 1. Adam Young's narrative foil; and 2. an Aziraphale parallel.

Now, the first one is obvious. Of COURSE he is Adam Young's foil, duh. Adam isn't called the ANTICHRIST for nothing. Brought into the world just for the sole purpose of ending it. However, when the time comes for him to fulfill the Will of his Satanic Father, Adam flat out REFUSES.

Both the book and the show attribute this to Adam's human upbringing. He was raised as a human, and because of that he has the trait that the book uses to DEFINE human beings: free will. At the end, Adam had the AGENCY to reject the destiny planned out for him.

'Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate—"'

- (Good Omens, 1990)

That is NOT what happened to Jesus.

Adam Bond as Jesus in Good Omens (2019)

Like Adam, he was raised as a human -- being a human incarnate was his WHOLE DEAL in Christology. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us... yada yada yada.

UNLIKE, Adam, though, Jesus wasn't able to REJECT his Destiny of Dying Really Horribly and Painfully on the Cross. Narratives in the Bible also made it clear that the Crucifixion was NOT his Will, but that of God's. Like... him begging to be spared from torment but ultimately following God's Will is such an important event entire devotional practices are made out of it.

"39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

- (Matthew 26: 39, KJV)

We get a glimpse of that in s1ep3 of Good Omens, too:

"JESUS

(muttering through the pain)

Father, please . . . you have to forgive them . . . they don’t know what they are doing . . .

Crowley, in black, comes up next to Aziraphale.

CROWLEY

You’ve come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?

AZIRAPHALE

Smirk? Me?

CROWLEY

Well, your lot put him on there.

AZIRAPHALE

I am not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."

- (The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2018)

SO. Here we have the character of the Christ whose free will and agency had been STRIPPED from him in the guise of a "noble sacrifice." He comes back again on this Earth to fulfill another "inescapable destiny."

Aziraphale and Crowley need to stop him. The solution the Good Omens narrative offers to "inescapable destinies and systems" (both in s1 and s2) is for the character to realize they have the freedom to choose their own fates. It happened with Adam, and it happened with Gabriel, and perhaps it will happen to Jesus.

(At this point my sister frowned and said: "Are you telling me you think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to help Jesus realize he has agency and that him Dying on the Cross for the 'Great Plan' was kinda fucked up actually?" which sounds crazy when you put it like that BUT NEVER SAY NEVER BABIE.)

Because that brings me to my second point: if this all happens, Jesus becomes an AZIRAPHALE parallel.

In the same way Anathema is an Aziraphale parallel and Sergeant Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel. Here is a character stuck in a suffocating status quo. To save the world, he needs to know he can escape that status quo and decide for himself. In the same way Anathema has to learn how to stop being a descendant or Shadwell to stop being a Witchfinder, or Gabriel to stop being an Archangel, and Adam to stop being an Antichrist, perhaps Jesus has to learn he can stop being... Well, the Christ, as well.

And this, of course, supplements Aziraphale's journey of letting go of the idea of being an idealized vessel of God, so he could finally enjoy the freedom of personhood and choice on Earth, with Crowley.

Or they could turn Jesus into a cackling villain who Aziraphale and Crowley need to kill in season 3, and I'd probably eat that up, too.

[incorrectbatfam]

The batfam as teacher comment section in report card.

Dick: Mr. Grayson brings a contagious energy to the class and his enthusiasm is well-appreciated. However, he tends to channel that energy very physically and while that may benefit his learning, it's a disruption to other students. This is a frequently recurring issue that I would like to discuss with a parent or guardian.

Translation – Is this kid ADHD because he won't sit the FUCK down

Jason: Mr. Todd has displayed remarkable attention to detail and a love of literature that I can only attribute to positive reinforcement at home, and he's always a pleasure to have in class. As much as I appreciate seeing him apply his lessons outside of school hours, I believe there are more productive avenues of discussing Shakespearean playwriting with his peers than what he has been reportedly doing. 

Translation – Stop biting your thumb at people

Tim: Mr. Drake continues to exceed expectations in his schoolwork, but his attendance and participation may become a detriment to his overall grades if unaddressed. I have caught him sleeping in class on multiple occasions but he has yet to provide me a reason why he is so tired. Additionally, last month one of our monitors caught him loitering in the bathroom with a note that I did not recall writing. 

Translation – Get some sleep and also you can't make your own hall passes

Damian: I have had the privilege of teaching the Wayne family through my decades at this institution and I believe that Damian takes after his father the most in more ways than expected. His grades are stellar and he is well-organized, but I'm noticing familiar and concerning traits in his attitude and social interactions. I am requesting a meeting with his parent to understand the full context so I can devise a plan for out how to best support him. 

Translation – Forget falling, the apple is still on the damn tree

Duke: Mr. Thomas has been a pleasure to have in my chemistry lab and is always willing to help classmates who are struggling. However, after last week's minor combustion reaction mishap, I think it would be worthwhile to review the lab safety packet that all students received at the beginning of the year. 

Translation – How did you set water on fire

Cullen: Mr. Row displays a passion for transformative literature and demonstrates a clear understanding of modern media culture that has helped him synthesize a lot of our complex readings. However, I'm concerned about his laptop being a distraction, especially with numerous incidences of him looking at non-academic material.  

Translation – Quit reading fanfics in class

Stephanie: You should be pleased to know that Miss Brown consistently keeps the well-being of her peers in mind. This semester, she launched a meal initiative for students whose needs could not be met by the school cafeteria. While we value her good intentions, she has been causing hallway obstructions and there are some regulatory concerns that we need to discuss. 

Translation – She sold pancakes in the halls without a permit

Cassandra: Although Miss Cain is relatively quiet in class, she continues to blow me away with her breadth of knowledge not just on class materials, but also interpersonal details. While this is a good skill to cultivate, we ask that she dial it back especially with our faculty. Additionally, please remember that the teacher's lounge is a staff-only space and students should remain in the common areas. 

Translation – She knows too much

Barbara: Miss Gordon is easily one of the best AP Computer Science students I've seen in my twenty years of teaching. She even went above and beyond the scope of our class to apply what we've learned to a greater school context. While that is deserving of credit, I'd also like to remind her that, in the future, certain ideas should be subjected to careful consideration before actions are taken. 

Translation – She hacked the lunch menu to make every day French Fry Friday 

Harper: Miss Row has a remarkable aptitude for the engineering process that exceeds beyond what students her age can typically grasp, and she is very inventive in her own right. That being said, I would appreciate it if she followed our lesson plans more closely and reviewed our guidelines for woodshop safety so everyone can continue to have a positive experience.

Translation – She made a working crossbow out of popsicle sticks

Carrie: Miss Kelley is a bright student who brings positive energy that is very much needed, especially in morning classes. However, she's been falling behind with several missing assignments at this point, and her explanations for why she cannot finish her work don't seem to be sufficient. 

Translation – "Killer Croc ate my homework" Yeah and I'm Batman

Kate: Miss Kane seems to be very eager to move forward to the next stage of her life, as evidenced by her Career Day presentation. While I believe young people should be free to explore their passions, I also think that Kate would benefit from some workshops outlining more feasible options. 

Translation – "Get bitches" isn't a career goal

Alfred: Mr. Pennyworth is easily one of the best students this institution has seen, both in his academic record and extracurricular activities. He recently expressed interest in the sharpshooting team, which I will not discourage him from, seeing how highly accurate he is. As of this year, I will be retiring as the coach for the team, but I wish him all the best.

Translation – I'm not about to get on his bad side

Selina: Miss Kyle's resourcefulness continues to astound me. Earlier in the semester, she forgot her locker combination and quickly improvised a mechanism to safely unlock it using only the materials around her. The speed and accuracy with which she did that will surely benefit her in the future. 

Translation – Did... did she just pick a lock with another lock?

Bruce: No further comments. 

Translation – whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—

[yagirlwrites]

Show Me (Please) | (Sub!Rafe)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Domme!Reader

Warnings: sad rafe, angst and fluff

A/N: Hi y'all it's been a while! Wrote this a few days ago, did some editing but not too much cause I'm too tired for that lmao anyway I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think ❤️

Series Masterlist

This is set right before The Sounds of a Good Boy

My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️

Happy reading 🥰

Show Me (Please)

She was picking up a coffee order at the counter when she noticed him. Sitting in one of the cafe's window booths, staring at his empty glass, looking positively tragic. She had no idea why the sight caused a sharp pain to shoot through her heart. It was unusual. That was the reason. She'd never seen him look glum before - always smiling or smirking at her, or even annoyed but never this. Never sad. So sad. She attributed the remaining dull ache in her chest to the fact that this was highly unusual and she was too damn empathetic. That was it. That's what she told herself.

Once she grabbed her cup she had half a mind to just walk away and pretend she hadn't seen him. He looked like he wanted to be alone and she was not his friend, so really, what would be the point in getting involved? She took a couple of steps toward the door when his eyes met hers.

Her breath caught in her throat and she felt like she was intruding on something just by being there. He looked depressed. It was the only way she could describe it. The bags under his eyes, the abscence of his usual michievous smile, the sadness in his eyes which she could have sworn looked kind of glassy in the brief moment their gazes met. She wasn't sure what she expected him to do when he noticed her but it definitely wasn't this. She noticed his eyes roll briefly before he looked back down at his glass pretending she wasn't there. Rude.

Frankly she shouldn't have cared if he was being cold, she had been waiting for him to stop bothering her for a long time. But this felt wrong. She felt that ache in her chest again and she realized there was no way it would let her leave him like this. She sighed and kept walking.

She knew he sensed her there but he didn't look up. Didn't say anything, didn't acknowledge her at all. And this should have been her sign to walk out the door and get on with her day but that damn ache wouldn't let up. She slid into the seat opposite him, putting her coffee cup on the table and crossing her hands. And then she waited.

He could feel her piercing gaze on him. Could feel it burning through his skin. He felt naked under her eyes again and he didn't like it one bit. It didn't help that he was feeling so shitty anyway, the last thing he needed was her adding onto it. He didn't understand why she was there.

Minutes passed with them sitting in silence, his eyes on his hands and hers on him. Waiting. For what she wasn't sure. With every second that ticked by the silence grew louder, thicker, more suffocating. They both could feel it stinging the air they breathed.

He broke first. Because of course he did. When his eyes finally lifted to look at her they were void of their usual spark and this caused a frown to appear on her own face.

"What are you doing?" He finally spoke. His voice tight and low, as if he hadn't spoken in days. As if releasing the words physically pained him. She was left confused at what to do to fix it. Why she wanted to fix it? She had no idea. She just knew this wasn't right. So she spoke.

"Sitting here." She picked up her coffee, finally taking a sip. It had gotten cooler while they waited. Whatever, she thought. It didn't really matter.

Even though she loved her coffee strong and hot, to wake her up, help get her back on track when her energy tumbled during the afternoon. Even though it was the only reason she left her apartment, to get the coffee and bring some life back to her body so she could continue on the paper that's been kicking her ass for the past three days. At this moment it didn't matter in the slightest. And in a true Y/N fashion, she chose not to dwell on the why.

He was staring at her now, bows furrowed - trying to figure out what the hell was going through her mind, why she had sat with him when she had been rejecting every interaction he had been trying to start with her for months. She was a pro at getting under his skin with her ability to be completely unaffected by him and his charm, his bullshit. It made no damn sense why she would be here right now and it made his discomfort grow.

"Why are you here?" She gave him a pointed look, putting her cold coffee down and crossing her hands on the table, like she had all the time in the world and he was once again feeling like a little boy about to be scolded.

"Wanted a coffee. It helps me think." Her voice was casual and he hated it. The way she could always be so blasé and cool. Like she was so much better than him.

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you." His voice was strained but sharp, meant to cut. She lifted an eyebrow at his nerve. He never spoke to her like this before. She didn't like it. It wasn't right.

"I see your manners left you cold, Rafe." He felt like a child being chastised by a parent.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?" He ignored her comment, voice on edge. He was uncomfortable with this interaction. He wasn't feeling like himself and having her here now, was messing with his already fragile mind. He needed air and needed his head cleared, not more confusion added to it.

"I'm sitting, having a coffee. It's cold now though. I don't like it." She was trying to keep cool and not snap at his attitude. His face was unamused and if that damn pain in her chest wasn't so loud in wanting her to do something for him, she would have already left. But she didn't. She didn't know how to explain it to him when she didn't understand it herself.

"What are you doing here, Rafe?" The way she said his name felt like an arrow shot right right through his fragile heart.

It was the first time he heard his name pass her lips and he wished so hard it didn't cause such an insane reaction inside him. His every reaction to her felt unhinged, he didn't understand it. It didn't help that she kept rejecting every attempt he made at getting to know her. She was frustrating and confusing and infuriating and it drove him wild. And while any other time he would have been jumping from joy to have her approach him and sit with him for coffee, as embarrassing as that was, right now he simply wasn't in the mood. For any of it.

"I don't have energy for this." His voice was practically a whisper and the way he so easily gave up on the banter he would have usually jumped on was starting to worry her. It wasn't right. And she didn't know why she cared.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Her voice was the softest and gentlest he'd ever heard it. And part of him wanted him to say yes, to bare his soul to her right there. But a bigger part of him, the meaner one, wanted to cut. It was his way of dealing with the pain. Don't show it - hence him being all alone in the café in the late afternoon, licking his wounds like a kicked puppy. And if he can't hide it, he will make it hurt - deflect, push whoever might be unfortunate enough to cross his path when he's like this far far away, so they may never return, never see him vulnerable again.

His scoff was much louder than his voice had been. Her eyebrows lifted at his reaction to her question.

"Something funny?" Her voice now a lot less gentle. It was go time. A cold smirk made its way onto his face.

"So all I had to do was stop fawning over you and you come to me?" Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance at his audacity and that smug look on his face.

"The second the guy is no longer running after you, suddenly you wanna be around him? I expected better from you, Y/N. That's pretty cliché." He tutted in faux disappointment and her anger rose within her.

How dare he speak to her like that? She was being nice sitting with him when he looked so sad. But now he was being mean and she didn't deserve it.

He waited for her to snap back. Tell him to go fuck himself, as she had in the past. To storm off in anger, or slap him even. He could see it on her face, she wanted to. He grinned.

And then she saw it. The little glint in his eye. He was trying to provoke her. Push her buttons. Get her anger and force a reaction. She knew how he worked. It was like that the first night they met. He tried to get her to slip up and let him get under her skin. He was itching for it then and he's itching for it now. And like that night she calmed herself down because she knew better than to give him what he wants.

Unlike that night though, he wasn't trying to piss her off for attention, he was doing it to push her away. Because unlike that night she knew him better now- whether she liked it or not. He had been in her life for a while and she picked up on things about him despite insisting she didn't care to.

He was hurting. A lot. He had looked so sad and in pain when she noticed him. And now he was embarrassed, provoking her so she'd leave and he wouldn't have to face it. And she shouldn't care. Shouldn't bother continuing a conversation when he was actively being a dick and trying to end it. But for some reason, unlike that night, she doesn't want to walk away. This isn't him. He isn't mean. He never has been.

He's confused when nothing happens and her face remains calm and collected. His smirk falls. Her eyes hold his for a long moment and he feels that same chill down his spine. What is she doing to him?

"You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. We can just sit. Or if you want to be alone I can go. Just say it. You don't need to be a dick." Her eyes remained on him, making him flustered. Her words piercing his heart like thunderbolts. Why was she still there? Why was she still trying? He didn't understand it. It made no damn sense.

"Why do you care?" His voice broke and she could see the tears he had been holding back glistening in his eyes. Her heart broke for him.

"I don't know." Truth. "I just do." She shrugged and gave him a small smile. A small smile that made his insides feel like they were twisting up into a knot. She was so beautiful and she didn't make any fucking sense to him. Ever. Always leaving him confused and desparate for more.

"Do you want me to go?" He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He realized he didn't. He usually never wanted anyone to see him like this - this fragile. It made no sense but he really didn't want her to leave him in that moment. She mistook his silence as an affirmative and she went to grab her bag but he finally spoke.

"Stay." He was looking at her with big pleading eyes and she could feel her heart clench. So she let go of her bag and made herself as comfortable as she could on the booth bench.

"Okay." She simply said and they lapsed back into a silence. Only this time it wasn't suffocating. It was... comforting.

A strange feeling enveloped Rafe. Like he could breathe again, even though just seconds ago he felt like dying. Like she was the calm wrapping around his stormy mind, soothing the ache with her mere presence. Her refusal to let his snippy attitude push her away, her ability to see right through him and know he needs someone to just be there for him. Just be. He felt like he was in a dream.

And so they sat there in the silence, for what could have been hours. The more time passed the calmer he became, the quieter his mind went. The longer she was there with him, so patient even though he didn't deserve it, the less he felt like shit. He was coming back to himself, slowly but surely. He didn't understand how this woman's presence always managed to make him feel both safe and like he's going to lose his mind at the same time. Because the more conscious he got the more his mind started running wild again. This time because of her.

What did she want with him? She had been so cold and indifferent to all his advances, every attempt at kindling some kind of relationship between them he instigated, she shut down. Why was she now here then? What did it mean?

"Why did you sit here?" His voice finally broke the extended silence they had been in. She could see he was more himself now and was glad. However, she wasn't glad she now had to answer his questions. Because she didn't know how.

"You looked sad." It was a simple answer and she hoped he might accept it but of course he didn't.

"So?" She shrugged.

"I don't know. It didn't feel right." He cracked a small smile at that.

"Didn't feel right?" She rolled her eyes at his playful tone.

"I don't have the answer you're looking for." She looked at him with honesty and he gulped and nodded, processing her words.

"You really are something else." He scoffed in semi amusement. She arched her brow expecting an explanation.

"For months I've been trying to talk to you. Get to know you. And you always turn me away." He shook his heard, a glimmer of pain in his eyes that tugged at her heartstrings.

"Why?" She sighed. It was a fair question. But she didn't want to think too hard and he was forcing her hand.

"You hate me then you come and sit with me cause I'm sad?" His voice was apprehensive. She swallowed from the tension building around them.

"I don't hate you." Her brows furrowed. Why would he think that?

"Okay, not hate but... you definitely don't like me. You've made it obvious." His voice was teasing, but hiding a note of hurt all the same. She looked sheepish and he didn't expect that.

"It's not that I don't like you." He cocked a brow at that.

"Oh really? So you do like me? That's why you shut me down every time I try and talk to you?" He was challenging her now. Poking for the truth behind her behaviour. He had been blatantly obvious about being interested in her but she had never reciprocated.

"Rafe... I don't know what you want from me." He scoffed at that.

"You're unbelievable, you know?" She sighed and tried to speak but he continued.

"I spent months trying to get you to see that I wasn't just some asshole frat guy you saw me as that first night. I didn't even ask you out I just wanted to talk to you. And you didn't want it." She felt uncomfortable now, like she was being called out.

"And I was finally accepting that you clearly don't want me. As a friend or anything else." The hurt in his voice was evident.

"But then here you are. Acting like you give a shit for the first time. And you ask me what I want from you?" His voice took on a note of disbelief. "What do you want from me? That's the real question?" He was getting agitated again and she was feeling kind of flustered at his words.

"It's cruel. Messing with me like this. Acting like you care that I'm sad when you're just gonna go back to pretending I don't exist after this." His eyes were teary again and she felt herself wanting to cry. Why was he making sense? Why was he calling her out like this? Unhinging her?

"I do care." Her voice was soft and he could tell she was being sincere.

"Why?" He wasn't backing down, holding her gaze hostage in his baby blues. She couldn't answer.

"Why don't you want me?" The words fell from his lips before he had time to stop them.

Why didn't she want him in her life as badly as he wanted her in his? Why didn't she want to be his friend? He would be happy to be just friends, even though he obviously wanted more. He'd be content to just have her any way she wanted. He just wanted her. In whatever way she'd let him have her. But he didn't dare say that, already having embarrassed himself enough for the day.

The blush on his face was so stong, a passerby might think him drunk or feverish. She could tell he let slip more than he intended with that last question. And she didnt have it in her to lie anymore. To either of them.

"It's not that I don't want you." His eyes snapped to hers from twiddling with his fingers on the table. Confused. Dare he say, hopeful? Apprehensive. The implication of her words driving him mad.

"What?" She sighed. How coud she explain this to him when it was so hard to explain it to herself?

"It's not that I don't want you. I just don't think we're compatible is all." She drifted off, feeling like she had said both too much and not enough at the same time.

"What does that even mean?" She looked at him for a beat, silently begging him to drop it. But he couldn't.

"What? You do want me?" She closed her eyes trying to keep herself in check.

"You... Do you feel it too?" His hand tentatively reached for hers sitting on the table. The touch made her skin feel like it was on fire and her eyes met his wild ones. There was so much swirling in him now. Hope, anger, hurt, relief, joy, pain, confusion. He was so terrified of her next words but also so damn anxious to hear them.

She should have pulled away. Walked away even. She didn't understand why she didn't. This was a terrible, stupid idea - to tell him the truth. It could never work between them. It just couldn't. But the tiny tremor of his hand holding hers unhinged her and she couldn't stop the words from spilling out.

"Yeah... Yeah I feel it." His breath caught in his throat. Waiting for her to say sike. To take it back. Say she was joking. But she doesn't.

"What the fuck?" His relief was battling with his anger. If she felt the same then why the fuck had she been making him feel a fool for so long? Why did she reject him and make him feel like an idiot for even thinking she'd ever want anything to do with him?

"What's wrong with you?" He pulled his hand off her then and she was starting to feel the anger inside herself too.

"Watch your mouth." She snapped and he couldn't help but snort in disbelief.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You've let me feel like I was alone in this, like I wasn't good enough for you to ever feel the same way about me. And now you say you do?" He was breathing hard, his grasp on sanity slipping by the second.

"Don't be stupid." She couldn't belive he would say that. Had she really made him think he wasn't good enough for her?

"Don't call me stupid." He was struggling to control himself from blowing up at her right in this coffee shop.

"I'm not -" she sighed and rubbed her eyes in exasperation. She didn't realize his self esteem was so low, didnt realize she had made him feel like that.

"You're not stupid." The tears in his eyes were now a mix of hurt and anger and he didnt know which one was winning out. "And you're not alone. I'm sorry." His breath got shaky.

"It's not that you're not good enough, that's crazy." His heart skipped a beat at her words.

"Then what?" His voice was on edge and so was she.

"We just aren't compatible." He laughed then. A disbelieving laugh.

"That's bullshit." She was glaring at him. She didn't think it was bullshit at all. She was serious.

"What does that even mean?" He asked then, taking in her somber expression.

"It means that no matter what we might want we couldn't work together." She said it with such confidence and it drove him mad because how could she make that decision for both of them?

"Why wouldn't we work? What's so incompatible about us, huh?" He was angry at her, and hurt, and full of desparation. To understand. To make sense of it. Of them.

"We just dont want the same things, okay?" She wanted to be done with this conversation, regretting ever sitting down in the first place.

"Not okay." He didn't even hesitate for a beat. "How could you possibly know what I want?" She swallowed at his words, at how sure he was of them. And then she hesitated. What if he was right? But as soon as it came, she rejected the thought, shaking her head.

"It's very clear what you like okay? And I have different... My needs are different than yours, okay?" There was a slight blush on her cheeks and he couldn't believe she was flustered.

"What do you think I like? What do you need that you don't think I can give to you?" He was trying to get her to open up to him like he had to her. She was struggling to verbalize her thoughts but he wasn't going to let go.

"Look you're clearly used to a certain dynamic with women. And that's fine. That's what works for you-"

"Stop it with the criptic bullshit and say what you mean!" He held her gaze. Unrelenting. Both stubborn, pissed off and frustrated.

"Fine!" She almost shouted but returned her voice to normal when she realised where they were.

"You like to fuck girls." She was looking right at him and he started to blush. This was not what he expected her to say.

"What?" He didn't understand what she was getting at at all. She pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance over how she would explain it to him in this public ass space.

"You don't think I can be faithful?" His words were frantic, confused, hurt. Like the idea of her thinking that hurt him deeply. She shook her head at his assumption

"No, that's not what I meant." He looked more confused than ever.

"Then what?" His eyes were saying please. Please tell me. Help me understand.

"I'm a domme." Her voice was so low he almost didn't hear it.

"You what?" He stuttered out. She shrugged deciding enough was enough. She had nothing to be ashamed of. And if he wanted the truth he could deal with it.

"I'm a domme. I fuck guys, not the other way around." She looked at him, a picture of poise and calm - a stark contrast to his wild thoughts, very obvious in his panicked eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed as he took her in now - in her full light. Understanding washing over him.

"So what?" She cocked a brow at him. "You think I can't handle being fucked by a girl? Is that it?" He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all.

"No, Rafe. I don't." Hurt flashed in his eyes and she continued.

"I don't just fuck guys. I'm particular. I have my wants and needs. That's just the way I am. And I'm not compromising on that for anyone. Not even you." It pained her to say it but it was true.

She had spent too long repressing her own nature, being ashamed, conforming to what other people told her was normal and she wouldn't ever go back to that. Not for anyone. Even if she did want him. Bad. She would not sacrifice her own needs for a guy ever again. She was stronger than that and she deserved more. Being lonely was part of the territory. But she'd rather the loneliness than the heartbreak of keeping herself hidden away like she had in the past. Even if it hurt to breathe when he was looking at her like that. Even if she wanted to kiss him so damn bad it felt like her heart would stop if she didnt.

He was gobsmacked. Out of all the things he thought she might say this was not one of them. It confused him why she thought he'd want her to ever compromise who she was for him. As if he didn't adore everything about her already. As if he hadnt been following her around like a lost puppy begging for her time, feeling so sad and alone when he thought she didn't want him. But now that he knows she does and she's holding herself back over something as silly as who's in charge in the bedroom was making his head spin. This was about sex. He laughed at the realization.

"What?" She was frowning at him. Offended, hurt that he'd laugh at her after she opened up to him.

"I'm sorry. It's just-" he looked ready to laugh again. "That's it?" She looked dumbfounded.

"All of this because you think we aren't compatible in bed?" She almost rolled her eyes at his oversimplification. He was making fun of her and she was serious. He realized he had hit a nerve when she kept looking at him like he kicked her.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I just- why are you so sure we aren't compatible then?" He was testing her.

"Because I know guys like you."

"Guys like me? What's that supposed to mean?" Now he was offended. He thought they were past this.

"You chase girls, you have your fun and then you move onto the next one. And the cycle goes on." She was looking so confident when she said it. And he knew she was right. He had acted like that in the past.

"I don't do that, Rafe." He sighed. His hand reaching for hers again but this time she pulled back. It hurt.

"You really think so little of me? That I couldn't do anything different just because I've done it a certain way so far?" His eyes were boring into her. Begging her to let him in. To believe him.

"Do you want to do it different?" She asked quietly.

"Maybe I do." She shook her head.

"Maybe." She scoffed at the childish response.

"What do you want me to say?" He was exasperated.

"Nothing. This was a waste of time." Panic rose within him. She couldn't just leave.

"No. It wasn't. Just- just give me a chance-"

"Chance to what? Rafe you're a player. I don't fuck players." Ouch.

She was slipping away again. And he didnt know what to do. How to fix it. Because even though it terrified him it also thrilled him - the thought of her fucking him, taking him, using him. Like he had used girls many times before. It was both confusing and incredibly arousing and he couldn't think straight. And now she was ready to leave again and he was getting desparate. So desparate. He had wished for her to want him for so long and now that she does he can't let a silly thing like this stand in the way.

"I'm not a player." It was a lie. She looked at him and called bullshit. "I - I don't want to be a player. I don't want to chase girls. I just want you." He was basiclly begging her at this point.

"Rafe. You don't know what that means."

"Then show me? Please? Show me..." he was looking at her with big needy eyes and it caused a stirring deep within her.

She stood up then, his heart racing, praying she doesn't leave. She took a step closer to him, her voice as soft as butter but her words sharply piercing his insides.

"I only fuck good boys, Rafe." His breath caught in his throat, heart hammering in his chest from her proximity. He wanted to pass out. In need, desparation, arousal. All of it at once.

"Bad boys aren't worth my time." She stood back up giving him one final once over and made to leave. His hand wrapped around her wrist a moment later causing her to turn back around and meet his eyes. In them? Complete and utter adoration. A need to have her so deep it was hurting.

She wanted him so bad too. But she meant what she said and she knew what he was like. It was unfair really, that the one guy she has this strong of a pull for cannot give her what she needs. And she can't give him what he needs either. Tragic really. When he looked so pretty and needy and willing. But she knew better than to fall for it. He just wanted her to let her guard down and it would end up causing them both a world of heartache when it inevitably didn't work out.

"I can be good." His words flooded her insides, setting her on fire. She looked at him with apprehension and he nodded his head.

"I can be good. For you." She wanted to groan at the words, hitting her right where he hoped. He was driving her nuts. Breaking down the walls of certainty she built around her with just a few words and those pretty eyes. It was so frustrating. How fast she was crumbling.

"I want to be good for you." Voice a mere whisper at that point. He was laying it all out. Leaving himself vulnerable hoping she wouldn't walk away from him now. He wanted to prove to her and himself he could be what she needed. He gulped waiting for her next move.

His eyes closed as her soft hand made conctact with his face, fingers running over his skin gently and then gripping his jaw with light yet commanding fingers. He couldn't breathe. She was looking at him like she would destroy him and he knew that she meant it. And he craved it too, so badly. Craved to give her exactly what she wanted, needed it. Her eyes were swirling with need and lust and he could have passed out then and here.

"You sure about that?" He startled as her words broke the haze a little bit, already melting at her feet. She was good and he was so so needy.

"Yes. Please." The please escaped without his consent, the moment so raw and tense and intimate he couldn't hold back. She smirked and he knew he was in trouble.

"Okay then. Let's go."

-----------

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @lovelornanonymity @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @malfoytargaryen @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @whore-4-drewstarkey @palmwinemami @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife @ietss @beansprout713 @tpwk-mia

[saphronethaleph]

Filing a P-90

“Young man, a few moments of your time?”

CT-0102 looked up, confused.

“...how so?” the trooper asked. “You’re, uh, if you want to talk, you can just talk. If you have orders, go ahead and give them. Ma’am.”

“I’d rather not force you to discuss something,” the elderly woman said, by way of explanation. “I was wondering if you had a perspective on… weapons.”

“Weapons,” 102 repeated. “I guess… I’ve been trained with them? Using weapons is my job, I mean? Does that count as an opinion?”

“It might,” the old woman said. “But I meant more the philosophy of why a weapon exists.”

She shrugged, one hand resting for a moment on a long box by her side. “And, in particular, whether a weapon’s design tells us something about what it’s meant for.”

“This is getting dangerously philosophical, ma’am,” 102 admitted. “It’s above my pay grade.”

“It’s not above mine, I think,” the woman told him. “If you don’t want to talk, say so. I give you that permission, if you need it. But what I mean is that, for example… a lightsaber is a Jedi’s weapon, and that means that it’s a weapon of defence and of decisive attack. A lightsaber in trained hands is able to both protect others and to bring a quick end to any fight, and the respect it earns from those who see it can prevent a fight in the first place… a blaster, meanwhile, well, it depends on the blaster, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose that’s true, ma’am,” 102 admitted, glancing up for a moment as the turbulence around the ship increased – for a moment, at least.

There wasn’t anything he could do about it, so he just shrugged.

“A small pistol is intended to be concealed,” the woman went on. “It’s a weapon of self defence, but it’s also a weapon for committing an unexpected crime. While a larger, more powerful pistol, that’s a weapon of intimidation. It’s bulky enough to be difficult to conceal, and it’s less accurate than a long weapon, so it’s for both scare tactics and bringing a battle to a quick end. So does that mean it’s like a lightsaber?”

102 considered that.

“Our training covered how to handle most weapons, but it didn’t really address the cultural side of things,” he admitted. “We mostly focused on weapons for once a fight is inevitable.”

“Quite,” the woman agreed – 102 hadn’t actually got her name at any point. “The long rifle, which is designed for military efficiency on a battlefield. Harder to conceal in civilian life, almost impossible in fact, but it’s more effective than most weapons on a battlefield… at least, until you start dealing with either larger targets that they simply can’t damage, or more confined spaces where you want a shorter weapon. They share the attribute of being practical.”

She looked at his eyes, through the helmet. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“I guess,” 102 said, not really sure how to react. “Why do you say that?”

The woman was silent for several seconds, and as she was CT-0102 heard over the battalion push that they were getting close to their deployment point.

“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer this gunship to take up an overwatch position,” the woman said. “I do apologize, I should have mentioned it sooner.”

She pulled the box over to her, and undid the latches, then paused before opening it.

“What about this description of a weapon?” she asked. “A weapon that is designed for killing?”

102 blinked.

“Aren’t… most weapons designed for killing?” he asked. “That’s why they’re weapons.”

“Not at all,” the woman replied. “As we’ve just discussed. Your rifle is designed for practical battlefield use. Weight, length, shot count, rate of fire, all these considerations went into making it. Many other weapons are shaped by different design constraints entirely – a hold-out pistol, or a large heavy blaster. A lightsaber. I’m talking about a weapon that isn’t designed for a fight at all. That isn’t designed to be seen. That’s meant to be used as sparingly as possible, because you’re only meant to use it in the very direst need.”

She pushed open the box, and revealed a kind of long weapon, perhaps a blaster and perhaps not. It looked archaic, with some of the furniture made of actual wood and the rest out of something 102 couldn’t even identify, and there were odd protuberances and glowing blue segments on it.

“For such a weapon, all other considerations would be secondary to lethality,” the woman said. “If they were involved at all. It’s not intended to be involved in a battle, where you try to defeat the enemy; it’s not intended for a warning shot. The only purpose is to kill, and it is only to be used when there is no better choice.”

She knelt down on the floor of their gunship, and a few seconds later the Commander called out the launch order. Their assault ship was passing over the target zone, and all the gunships deployed.

Below, 102 could see the desert, and the darting red shapes of Aethersprite starfighters giving them cover against Geonosian fighter craft. More gunships were deploying, blasts going left and right, and 102 grabbed onto the handles overhead with a free hand for stability.

The woman didn’t seem to notice.

Instead, she took something from her belt, and slotted it into the weapon. It lit up, and she tapped a few controls before snugging the stock of the weapon into her shoulder.

“It’s a shame, you know,” she said, almost conversationally. “He was a great friend of mine, once. I thought he still was, until recently.”

“Who was?” 102 asked.

“Dooku,” the woman answered, her voice slightly distracted. “Emotion, yet peace… my old friend, I do not do this for revenge, but to prevent a greater wrong.”

The strange weapon spat out a bolt of brilliant sky-blue light, one that was like a solid bar connecting their gunship to the ground, and the woman hesitated for a moment… then let out a sigh.

“May you find the peace in death that so failed you in life,” she said, in tones of quiet prayer.

“Sorry, but – did you just…” 102 asked.

“What the kriff was that?” the gunship pilot asked, over the comm connection.

“Well, you can view it in two ways,” the Jedi Master said, ejecting her lightsaber from the rifle and examining it. “No, three, I think. Firstly, that my lightsaber and I were united in the need for that to be done. Secondly, that Count Dooku was too great a threat to peace in the galaxy to live. And third…”

Jocasta Nu placed the rifle back in its box.

“Nobody messes with the Jedi Archives,” she concluded.

[lacrimosathedark]

While I think the "Charlie makes Lucifer and Alastor compliment each other to bond" trope is a bit overdone, I am an absolute sucker for Alastor just casually saying that Lucifer is beautiful as an objective fact and Lucifer just kind of short circuiting.

I mean, he 1000% is, but who was going to tell him?

Lilith? I mean, yeah, she's his wife, duh. But she's also a more expected kind of beautiful so could qualify as "more" beautiful. And it's also probably been some time since she'd told him he's pretty given the split and all.

Ozzie? He's the embodiment of Lust, surface compliments come easy to him, it'd mean next to nothing. Were Ozzie really trying to give Luci butterflies, it'd probably have to be more personal.

Bee? Girl is effusive as fuck. She says Loona is "a fuckin' cutie" and "[her] new favorite person" in spending less than 5 minutes with her. Saying he's beautiful wouldn't mean as much from her.

Almost any other demon? Probably trying to suck up to get something out of Lucifer.

But Alastor? Sure, he could suck up to get something out of the powerful Lucifer, but he actively chooses not to time and again. Hell, he actively chooses to antagonize this being of immense power. He'll sidle up to Charlie, but Lucifer? No. He's all backhanded compliments and sniper-accurate critical observation. He's been going for the throat since Lucifer decided Alastor was beneath his notice.

So this same man who has been nothing but antagonistic to Lucifer so easily calling him beautiful? Especially a man who has demonstrated no sexual, romantic, or even aesthetic interest in literally anyone? Like...holy shit.

Alastor doesn't hand out compliments like that. The closest might be saying Rosie looks lovely upon seeing her, and while he may genuinely mean it, it's also kind of part of his gentlemanly standard greeting towards a good friend.

But he says Lucifer is beautiful like it's obvious, like it's something everyone should notice, like it's his easy go-to so he doesn't have to really think about Lucifer having positive attributes. And Lucifer is fucking floored because...someone genuinely thinks he's beautiful...? Someone with no interest in being nice to him...? Someone not looking to gain something from him...? Someone thinks he's so obviously gorgeous that it's the first nice thing he can think of? Like...damn.

idk if I were Lucifer, that'd fuck with my head too.

Also, fuckin bonus points if it's not in a forced compliment exchange scenario and just out of the fuckin blue. Like Alastor just dropping it in a conversation. Oof someone get me a fainting couch my god.

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part nine)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: an album release forces some feelings and conversations — one thing's for sure though, Eddie will always be thinking about you.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

“We are here this morning with a true music icon in the making, who’s hits like Compromising Positions and most recently Honesty took the world by storm. Now, Eddie Munson is just a few short days away from releasing his sophomore album with his Corroded Coffin bandmates, Assistance is Futile. Welcome to Eddie Munson everybody, yes!”

“Happy to be here, Charles.”

Good Morning America was definitely not the type of talk show the rockstar pictured himself ever getting invited on. He didn’t think his personal style, or the music he was putting out there with the band, would be something the producers would welcome. Considering especially the whole thing was televised live. No cuts, no edits, no take backs. Whatever is said remains out there forever. Quoted and interpreted until the next schmuck makes a fool of himself.

Hosts, Charles Gibson and Joan Lunden, were also known to be quite blunt with their guests. Blunt, but not in the rude sense of the word. Given their history on the network, their experience, they're simply good at what they do, which sometimes means effortlessly picking at a topic until they get a satisfactory reaction or better yet, television worthy answer. Of course there’s always a list of pre-agreed questions, carefully discussed with management and PR teams, but things have known to… slip out.

But Marianne trained him. Extensively. She flew out to New York the second this interview was arranged and spent hours in Eddie’s penthouse hotel room going over details that to most people, people not from this world, may seem minor: how to sit, how to smile, what to laugh at, the amount of seconds it should take him to answer a question. The list goes on. And now she was here, at the studio, to make sure Eddie saw a friendly face in the crowd. Someone to look at in case he got flustered at any point during the fifteen minute round.

“Before we get into the nitty gritty,” Joan begins, crossing one knee over the other, “Eddie, why don’t you tell us a little about how you and the band first got started?”

So Eddie talks. He’s charming as he tells the story, sparing a few details ‘cause he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time. He does however, crack a few jokes, including one about the list of names Gareth and Jeff brought to him one night before they all agreed on Corroded Coffin. Charles laughs before asking the next question about the band's success so far, and what he makes of it.

“Oh man, it’s so insane,” Eddie answers truthfully, “I still have days where I don’t think any of this is real. All of us in the band feel incredibly lucky, for sure.” He nods along as he speaks.

Joan and Charles take turns asking a few more general questions about the band plus the other members who couldn’t make it out today, before settling on the whole reason Eddie agreed to do this interview in the first place: promotion for the new album.

Assistance is Futile was a collection of songs about you — but that was not going to be an answer he gives today, accidentally or otherwise. Instead, the rockstar focuses attention on how the record was built. Technical language that he dumbs down slightly to make sure he’s continuously captivating his audience (Marianne’s advice). He tells them what instruments the group played around with that may not have featured on their last album, which was more classic rock than this new project. And he’s excited as he talks. Passionate.

He continues to lay out the facts. List the number of tracks it features, eleven plus two bonus songs on the extended version. He talks about the writing process, still carefully avoiding mentioning the influence. He won’t say he wrote them all during the aftermath of your breakup. He hasn’t even admitted that to you, despite the fact that you spent every waking moment together since the afternoon at Cove City Sound Studios. He knows he won’t be able to hide that for much longer, but until the album comes out and you hear the songs for yourself, he’ll keep it to himself because things have been so… great.

Sure, things weren’t back to normal. It can’t be the way it was until Eddie finds the time to speak with your management and nip this whole evil grandmother blackmail thing in the bud. At least he’s got you in some capacity. He gets to talk to you again, laugh with you. He gets to hug you, kiss you, touch you. Friends with benefits, or whatever the term is. Eddie’s just glad to be around you.

“Now, here at the studio, we got an exclusive, sneak peak listen to Assistance is Futile, and there’s a little bit of speculation between the crew about the meaning behind some of the songs.”

Boom. There it is. The dreaded topic. And it was going so well.

“Care to share where the inspiration for these lyrics struck you? Who, in particular, they might be about?”

Eddie smiles. “Give into the charade”, Marianne’s words ring in his ears, “But by any means, don’t confirm their suspicions”. Not an easy task. A slippery slope by all accounts. He ever so slightly glances in the direction of his manager who nods her head to show encouragement.

“Who do you think they’re about, Joan?” Eddie bounces the question back.

The presenter smiles. She knows she shouldn’t say. Yes, it would be good for ratings, but bringing up your name is not something that can be done lightly. She knows that. Hence why Joan hoped Eddie Munson wouldn’t be smart enough to avoid the initial question. But the rockstar’s been trained and he’s not about to mess up with two minutes to spare.

“Well, I’d say my friend Charles here. He’s got, what was that one lyric, legs for days and a wicked smile.” Joan deflects. Ever the professional.

The whole studio starts laughing. Eddie joins in, satisfied with the way this worked out. 

“You’d be right on the money there, Joan.” The rockstar nods with a wide smile before continuing, “Charles Gibson has been a constant inspiration for Corroded Coffin songs. There’s not a lot to do in Hawkins, where we grew up. Gotta write what you know and my uncle has an affinity for this show.” 

He turns to the camera to say hi to Wayne, “I know you’re watching.”

Then shifts to look at the hosts once more, winking at the gentleman sitting across from him.

“Charles, you sexy devil, you.”

The laughter continues. People start to clap, whistle along to Eddie’s perfectly curated response. Marianne is beaming with pride because for a brief moment, she didn’t think he could do it. There've been so many mishaps in the past, wild things the band — the curly-haired frontman in particular — have done that she’s had to either smooth over with the media or keep hidden from the public altogether. This morning she finally exhaled. He did well.

You’re laughing too. Feeling proud too as you watch him through your television screen, just like you promised Eddie you would.

Blanket covering your body, all the way up to your chin, as you sit comfortably on the couch. The smile on your face is as genuine as they come. He’s so good at this. Considering how nervous he was, how much time he spent with Marianne going over every possible scenario until his head hurt. You took a mental note to tell him later that he really had nothing to worry about. He’s a natural.

The question about his inspiration for the album didn’t surprise you. It’s pretty standard for these types of press junkets. Even more given the fact your relationship has been the talk of the town for months, especially when the two of you weren’t even together. People love to speculate.

When Eddie told you about the upcoming album, one night after you came down from another intense orgasm, you assumed he wrote about your relationship — especially the failures. Honesty came to the rockstar after only one night. Makes sense that a complete record would be next. He didn’t confirm it though, because you didn’t ask. You would know once it came out, when you purchased your own copy to listen through. Artists supporting artists, and whatnot.

“Corroded Coffin’s Assistance is Futile. Coming to a record store near you, this Thursday, October 14.” Charles Gibson announces, holding up a shiny compact disc to one of the cameras, showing off the album’s cover art: a thundering night sky, with something sinister looming inside the blood red clouds. An ode to the band's Dungeons & Dragons days.

“Eddie Munson, thank you for your time today.” Joan Lunden flashes a pearly white smile.

The rockstar returns the expression. “Thank you for having me.”

Backstage, Eddie gives Marianne a big hug. Thanking her for being here. While returning the embrace, she reassures him that’s never going to change. “Or at least until the contract ends,” his manager teases and ruffles his already wild hair before sitting down on the velvet sofa.

“So, tell me, am I flying back to LA alone?”

Eddie picks up a bag of previously opened Funyuns before leaning against the vanity. He shuffles the remainder of the onion-flavoured corn chips inside the plastic, then starts eating them, one by one.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging as if it was an obvious answer. “We’ve got the release party for the album. The guys would kill me if I missed it.”

“I’d kill you first.”

He smirks. “Then why ask me the question?”

Marianne gives him a pointed look. One that says, no, screams, he of all people should know why. Eddie got on a private plane to New York so he could “sort something out”, then ended up staying for weeks longer than intended with no explanation. Marianne called him at the hotel multiple times, asking for a return day, but he always gave a vague answer. Then Gareth called, as did Jeff (who sort of already suspected the reason for the delayed homecoming, kudos to Holly), but Eddie continued on the road of avoidance, all while Page Six posted about sightings of him with a certain pop sensation.

“Eddie, you haven’t been this happy since—”

“I know,” he interrupts, “I know and yes, to whatever you’re thinking, but I don’t wanna talk about it now because there’s something I need to do first.”

“What do you need to do?” She asks, puzzled because in the time they’ve worked together, the rockstar has never once left her out of action. She did everything for him. That was her job. One she did gladly because she’s grown to care for these boys.

Eddie sighs, wiping his crumb covered hands on the material of his trousers. The bag of chips lays empty on the table next to him. Of course he contemplated telling Marianne everything on multiple occasions, but each time he chickened out at the last minute. He knew she could fix everything in the blink of an eye. Simply, the rockstar just didn’t feel worthy of that. 

His entire life, Eddie ran away. From situations, from people, from feelings. Anything that was messy, or just became messy. He ran until the distance felt comfortable enough to continue with his life. Growing up in Hawkins, he didn’t have a Marianne. He didn’t have anyone that would stand up for him, so running became second nature. Running fixed his problems. 

By the time the band hit stardom, running turned to escapism in the form of drugs and alcohol. The bubble. Under the influence, the rockstar didn’t care who cleaned up after him and Marianne was so good at her job that most of the time, Eddie didn’t even know there was a problem to run from until it was resolved.

The situation with your grandmother however, was different. It involved you. 

He gave into his instincts and ran. Only this time, Eddie ran to protect you. Threats were made to potentially ruin your career — fucked up, considering the person that made them was also the person who helped kick-start your fame. And as selfish as he may seem to people that don’t know the real him, the rockstar wasn’t willing to gamble everything you built for yourself. He ran.

But Eddie was done running. He was going to fix this and he planned on doing it alone.

“What’s going on?” Marianne stands and takes a step closer, crossing her arms. Concern is starting to fill her veins, though she’s trying her best not to show it. Trying and failing.

Maybe solving this alone wasn’t the way to go.

“Someone’s been blackmailing me,” he admits eventually, reluctantly. 

“What?!” Marianne just about shouts. “Who? For how long?”

“It’s uh…. It’s a complicated story.”

“Well, fuck.” She’s slightly annoyed ‘cause how could he have hidden something like this from her? This is why the band has her. Managing them, planning shit to maintain their career is only a small part of her job. Protecting these boys is a priority and blackmail is a big fucking deal.

Exhaling, Marianne lets her arms drop and proceeds to take a much less confrontational stance. 

“Eddie, you know I’ve always got nothing but time for you, so spill.”

And he does. Starting right at the beginning with Chrissy Cunningham.

-

When Eddie stops by your place later that afternoon, he kisses you, the second you open up your apartment. He kisses you fully, deeply. He’s kicking the door closed with his boot, lips continually locked together, his hands holding you firmly by the waist. A man on a mission and the mission being to make you feel like you're floating all the damn time. 

You smile against his soft lips. Mission accomplished.

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Hello,” he whispers back, also smiling. “How was your morning?”

“Not nearly as interesting as yours,” you answer his question and turn in your spot, wanting to lead him to the couch. Eddie’s hands remain on your waist as you do so, no inclination of letting go.

MTV is on. The wild-haired rockstar instantly feels at home — a stark contrast to that first night he showed up at your door. Adrenaline pumping. Unsure of the outcome. But it was better than he could’ve imagined, dreamed. Back in your arms with little to no arguments. Back where he for sure belonged.

Honesty comes on. The video makes him smile as he effortlessly pulls your legs over his thighs, hand settling on your soft flesh and giving it a gentle squeeze. The memory of that day with you on set. Eddie wouldn’t call it acting. Hugging you, kissing you on camera. Not a tough act. Natural, actually. That was a good day. You’re thinking it too.

“Magnetic.”

“Huh?”

Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. “You’re magnetic. Utterly. I almost forgot, but I didn’t really, you know? I-I think about that day often and how much fun it was,” he rambles. It’s sweet. 

“But what I replay in my mind the most is how fucking talented you are, sweetheart. A goddess in front of a camera, I swear.”

You smirk, your own mind flying to something much, much dirtier than what Eddie meant, and he flicks your leg at the institution, all while glancing at you from the corner of his brown eyes. Because there was a video camera left under the rockstars California King bed with a tape inside, a tape that could get you both — although the sexist industry you’re lucky to be a part of would blame only you, mainly — in a lot of trouble, if it ever saw the light of day. A tape for private eyes only. And Eddie wasn’t wrong, you were near damn a goddess.

“Wish we could work together again,” he says, then quickly adds, “Professionally, sweetheart, before you get any kinky ideas.”

That makes you laugh.

“Think you should focus on the album the band is about to release, hotshot. Once that’s a sure hit, then we can talk about doing something together.”

“Well, there is a box in my room, back in LA, with notebooks full of songs…”

He’s trying to be encouraging. Motivational. Really what Eddie’s doing is building up the courage to ask you to go back to Los Angeles with him. In a complete roundabout way, to be honest. The guys would call him a pussy. He was being a pussy. There was however, a lot he still needed to tell you. This whole thing with your grandma, for one. But Marianne was handling that now, and once she gave him the agreed upon sign, there was nothing stopping Eddie from screaming he loves you from all available rooftops — which he hoped to do for the first time at the place you two officially met. 

And with his manager on the case, he knew it would be sooner rather than later.

“Eddie, you’re a dumbass.” Marianne states. There’s a frown on her face, but it’s not serious. Accompanied by a smile that’s giving him a little bit of hope.

“I know—”

“No,” she interrupts, “You don’t.” 

He exhales. “I do, though.”

“Eddie. If you came to me when this first happened, you would’ve never lost all this time with Little Miss Perfect. The fact that you didn’t, the fact that you didn’t trust me with this information, makes you a dumbass.”

“So, you can fix this?”

“There’s a little thing called a Cease and Desist,” Marianne says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. And in a way, it is. “No one is going to threaten the career of my favourite client and get away with it.”

Eddie smiles. Genuinely. Something reminiscent of relief is flowing through his body, down to the tips of his toes, until he no longer feels heavy. The burden of this situation is slowly lifting.

“With your permission, I’d like to approach her team with this information. They’ll most likely also issue a cease and desist, so that her career is also protected.” Marianne says. “But I guess since all you’ve tried to do is keep her out of harm’s way, the only way you knew how, I’m assuming I have your permission without even asking for it?”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” He’s repeating over and over and over, wrapping his arms around Marianne. A hug they’d both cherish forever.

“Like I said, let’s get you to survive this record release first, okay?”

You’re looking at each other now.

“Take it day by day, Eds.”

“What if I want to skip ahead?”

There’s a lot hiding behind that question. The future is uncertain in many ways. He knows that he wants you, you know that you want him. That’s enough, but at the same time it isn’t. Day by day is easier than thinking about tomorrow, or the next day. He just loves you, which he’ll tell you soon. That’s what he wants to skip too.

On the other hand, you’re terrified. Giving into him again brought no shortage of anxiety about his past behaviour. Eddie Munson hurt you, twice. Second time worse than the first. You forgave him, yet the fear was still there. The question remained: what if he did it again? He wouldn’t, but what if he did? So taking it day by day, as it came, was easier. A shield, of sorts. Protection against hurt. 

Also, it was a lot more fun to act without consequence. To just be. 

Existing with him felt almost normal, even though there was nothing normal about the various interviews and photoshoots the rockstar has been doing promoting Assistance is Futile while in New York, or the long phone calls with his manager and bandmates in preparation for the release party. Nothing normal about your own career, which you’ve slowly been defrosting following the short heartbreak hiatus. Pivoting slightly towards acting as a new form of expression. So you’re reading scripts, rehearsing lines. All without expectations. Day by day.

“Skipping ahead means you, going back to LA for the release party,” you point out.

“You could come with me. The invitation is there, you know that.”

“There’s nothing I’d want more than to be there for you and the guys, Eddie, you know that.” You lean in closer, pressing your body weight into his. “But if I make an appearance, it will overshadow the album you worked really hard on and that’s not fair.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, pressing his lips to the side of your head, leaving a soft kiss while inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. He slowly nods against you, understanding your point of view.

“So we won’t see each other for a while then, huh?”

“Well, I got that recurring part in Law & Order which is filming here, so that’s a couple of months, at least, that I’ll be stuck here in New York.”

“I can visit,” he jumps in almost instantly, “And you, maybe… You can come out to see me whenever you have breaks in filming?”

“Sounds good, Eds.”

There’s a moment of silence. It shifts towards the heavy side. Eddie’s biting his tongue. He wants so badly to tell you everything he’s been keeping secret, but he knows it’s not a good idea until Marianne confirms she’s consulted your team and the cease and desist letters have been sent out. He’s just not ready to say goodbye yet. Not even for a little while. He just got you back. You’re also lost in thought. Reuniting with the Corroded Coffin frontman has been nothing short of a rollercoaster, in the best way possible. Having him here, next to you once more, kissing and touching you. And you know it was limited. That time would come knocking and he’d have to go back, while you’d need to stay. Bittersweet would be the word to describe how you feel. 

“How about we focus on right now, hm?” You offer, lifting your head so that your sweet gaze catches his chocolate one. Then a short inhale later, you kiss him. Gentle, at first, although not quite a peck. His eyes close on impact as his hand reaches for your face, attaching itself like a magnet. Cradling, squeezing your cheeks. 

And you smile. Fucking smile. Eddie loves it when you smile while kissing him. It drives him crazy knowing his touch makes you that happy. So he can’t help but smile too. Teeth knocking against each other in the process. 

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you,” the rockstar admits.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you, Eddie Munson.” 

The hand that held his toned abdomen just a mere second ago is now not so innocently sliding in a downward trajectory. You fiddle with his leather belt, unbuckling it rather effortlessly with one hand after you press your lips against his once more. Deeper this time. Wanting.

“But distracting me from a conversation about what’s mph… next,” he mumbles as you tug at his zipper. You’re not giving him a chance to breathe. “Isn’t going to - Jesus - work.”

“Okay,” you’re teasing. It’s a whisper and Eddie’s brain short circuits ‘cause your perfectly manicured fingers are sliding into his boxers, reaching for his semi.

-

“So, you guys are like back together now, huh?” 

Steve’s question lingers in the air for a moment. He’s glancing at his small-town friend turned worldwide phenomenon from across the table, swirling black coffee in his takeaway cup.

Eddie looks out the window at the clouds passing by. 

After getting over his initial fear of flying, since he hadn’t been on a plane until his early twenties, the rockstar decided he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would. Things were peaceful up here — especially since he could now afford private jets. Just him and his guitar. Even when he travelled together with the guys, they all got lost in their own thing too, as did Marianne.

The upcoming release party however, prompted an invite to his little sister as well as Steve. So he knew that unfortunately this trip wasn’t going to be a quiet one.

“Something like that,” Eddie answers, turning his attention back to his friend.

Harrington nods. “That’s good, man. She’s great.”

“That she is.” Eddie fails to contain a smile.

“I’m happy for you.” Steve’s words are genuine.

“Thanks, dude.”

The short exchange is interrupted by Max’s snort. The two boys look at the redhead currently splayed out on one of the recliner seats. A book in her lap, one that she’s not really reading, but she’s keeping up appearances anyway.

“To think we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my genius,” she retorts, a smirk now present on her face.

Eddie laughs lightly, but doesn’t say anything. He’s looking out the window again. His mind turns to you. He misses you, even though he saw you not even a half hour ago when you said goodbye before he got on the plane. He misses you. Anxiety building since neither of you are really sure when you’d be able to see each other next. “And that’s okay,” is what you said to him in between soft kisses. He’s repeating it now.

“She’s not coming to the party, right?” Red asks her older brother, briefly breaking Eddie away from his thoughts. 

The rockstar shakes his head. “No.”

“You’ll see her soon,” his sister reassures, reaching for his forearm across the aisle, squeezing. 

“I know, I know.” 

“Then why the sad face?” Steve points out.

Eddie wishes he was alone. Then no one would be questioning him, even though he knows it’s coming from a good place. They just care, he tries to level his emotions, they’re asking because they care.

“Our last goodbye wasn’t so good,” he answers plainly.

Luckily both Max and Steve understand. They exchange a glance between themselves before returning to whatever activity they were engaging in prior to the start of this conversation: Red buries her head in the book she wasn’t really reading and Harrington resumes listening to music on his Walkman.

Eddie is once again glancing out the small jet window. He’s once again thinking about you. 

And he continues to think about you when the plane lands. In the car, on the way to his Hidden Hills home. He continues to think about you when the house fills with people that are there to style him for the release party. He’s making small talk, his mind still centred on you.

You remain the centre of his attention, even when Eddie and the band arrive at the venue, and he’s being ripped ten thousand different directions. Picture here, sign this, talk to this person. He enjoys a drink and he’s still thinking about you. He’s wishing you were here. 

The guys are introduced to come up on stage and even though Eddie is on cloud nine for this release, super proud of the record they put together, he’s wishing you were here to celebrate this with him.

He thinks about you as he sings one of the songs. Breaking News — a song about you, of course.

There comes a point during the night, a split second during which Eddie stops thinking about you. Not for any particular reason. Nothing spectacular happens for him to do so, he just… does. But it’s only a fleeting moment. He regrets it as soon as he realises. He especially regrets it when Marianne approaches him, a concerned look spread across her usually composed features — although the rockstar doesn’t pick up on her expression immediately.

“What did you think of the performance?” Eddie asks, smiling wide.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she reaches for the half-empty glass in his hand and sets it aside before exhaling a sigh.

He furrows his brows, the smile fading as quickly as it appeared.

“Eddie, there’s been an accident.”

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg , @hereforshmut , @eg-dr3amer3 (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[batfambyval]

okay. So.

Serious Red Robin theory coming.

Tim wasn’t put in the Lazarus Pit. But. That doesn’t mean they didn’t use it on him. The pit’s healing properties have been shown to work in small portions. Like, the healing is proportional to the amount of lw used.

The cave with the pit isn’t exactly a sterile environment. So either the pit was needed or it was an attempt to put Tim off balance, a psychological weapon. Though the White Ghost’s reaction to the assumption seems to dispute that. If the pit’s healing is proportional to the amount used it makes sense that the psychological effects are to, along with the duration of those side effects.

Ra’s had serious reasons to use the pit on Tim, between the additional room for emotional manipulation and Tim’s life threatening injury which wasn’t immediately treated and was in fact exacerbated like, a lot… yeah. Tim lost a lot of blood. He lost was stabbed in the organ that filters blood: meaning all your blood passes through your spleen. He was bleeding out, he should have died, he dragged himself and another person to a car, drove said car back to the city, and got them both up to the penthouse. Recovering from that would take a long time, he shouldn’t have survived at all. But he healed quickly and well, it isn’t an issue, it happened and it was over. I know we as a fandom like to have fun with Tim’s missing spleen and what that means but… canon didn’t and looking back I feel like there was a lot pointing at the pit being used in a much more insidious was, not just in the logistics of Tim’s recovery.

Ra’s was insanely trusting of Tim. Not just in his ability to do what he wanted but in his belief that Tim would ultimately come around to his way of thinking. Now, I can obviously see that Tim was in a very vulnerable position and if Bruce hadn’t actually been alive Ra’s could definitely have succeeded. But it feels like more than that, especially with Tim’s ensuing behavior. A lot of his time with the league is glossed over or seen from Tam’s perspective, but Tim was acting different. It’s easy to attribute this to the objectively terrible situation and the year he’s had, but his behavior isn’t the same as it was at the beginning of the run either. And the difference in behavior fades. As Red Robin Tim is more ruthless and pragmatic, mostly due to necessity. Even stealing from a museum and fighting for it makes him incredibly uncomfortable. He still did it. But he was still acting like Tim, making jokes and doing his best to diffuse the situation and keep everyone alive. After the surgery his focus gets even more single minded. He barely puts up a fight about leading the league. Of course partly for Tam, and he tried to keep killing to a minimum but cmon. He was leading the league of ASSASSINS. There were assassinations happening. People died when he blew all the league bases and he barely registered that beyond thinking that the council of spiders probably made it out, implying part of him knew death was a possibility and he didn’t care. But he didn’t think about the moral implications of that in a way that was very reminiscent of Jason’s selective morality. If he had stopped to think about it he wouldn’t have done it, but he was focused to much on beating Ra’s, on not compromising, that the complexity of the situation didn’t sink in. The obvious effects of his actions, the possible deaths and injuries of anyone inside a league stronghold wasn’t acknowledged while the underlying message sent to his opponent was the only thing he could think about. Just like when Jason attacked Tim at Titans Tower to send a message to Bruce despite his hardline stance against hurting kids.

So. The League did use the pit on Tim, just a little. Maybe two tablespoons in the wound to accelerate recovery and weaken his morals a bit. It would certainly make a lot of sense. And the writer did change when Tim came back to Gotham so it’s entirely possible that it was meant to be touched on later but was discarded.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#62: The Happy Beginning (1.06)

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Richonne got their much-deserved happy ending, and better yet, I adore that Richonne and their children's happy ending is really a happy beginning. 🥹

Because now, the everyday life with their family truly starts. So rather than feeling solely like a closed chapter, the story lands on a hopeful and positive note that feels like “...and so it begins." The life Rick and Michonne always wanted to live together can now begin again.

So while it’s also a perfect final note for us as we (seemingly) no longer get to go with them into the next chapters, I appreciate that we always get to know that there are more bright and hopeful chapters for our Grimes family, together at last 🙌🏽🎉...

I announced these RIR-TOWL posts on July 21st and now they conclude today, September 21st. And I’m super grateful to you all for reliving this TOWL experience with me in-depth for the last 62 days of summer. 🥹🙏🏽

As you can see, saying I have a novels-worth of thoughts on this show was not hyperbolic. 😅 And that's because if this is it, I wanted to go as all out as I could. And because Danai, Andy, & Scott gave their all in creating this love letter to Richonne, I especially wanted to give my all in dissecting, reflecting, and reveling in The One Who Live. If only those three could know how grateful I am to them for this show because it really was a beacon of light during this time in my life. ☀️

In this real world, I’d say love matters most. It’s what makes life worth living to find people and things you love. Love in its many forms, including in fiction, is worth celebrating and enjoying to the fullest.

So that’s really what I’ve tried to do with all these posts over all these years - celebrate one of my favorite ways I’ve ever seen love take shape. It’s been a joy to watch two beautiful characters inside and out depicting the most beautiful love. Falling in love never looked so exquisite. And finding family never felt so rewarding. 😌

And we're finishing strong as we talk about TOWL's final moment where Rick and Michonne embrace the beautiful family they created. 🥹

So - still hugging, Judith and Rick look over at Michonne and RJ. And on top of it being surreal to see Judith grown up now, you can tell for Rick it’s extra surreal to be looking at this little boy who's comprised of him and Michonne and dressed like Carl. 😭

gif cred: @twdfranchise

That’s something that’s also really cool, is after going on this journey of losing and then regaining the image of Carl, Rick now gets to see this child who is Carl’s little brother and has his attributes. And just like Carl always wore Rick’s sheriff hat to feel close to his dad and strong like his dad, Rick gets to see that his youngest son has also done the same. 

I love that Judith looks at her mom and gives her her flowers saying, “You got him back.” It was a hefty task but Michonne pulled it off and brought home the Brave Man just like she set out to do. And I love how you can tell Judith is very proud of her mom for that.

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Then it's so sweet seeing Michonne smile at Judith and say, “You told me to.” Best mom/daughter duo, y’all. 😭 Plus, TOWL said let us give the viewers one more reminder that Judith wanted her mom to go find their dad. Like this was never an act of abandonment, going after Rick was Michonne’s daughter’s request.

I like how Michonne saying this also feels like she’s saying that knowing her daughter believed she should go was part of the fuel to do it. She did it for her daughter. And for her son. And for her husband. And for herself. For all of them. And Michonne’s giving Judith her flowers too for the way she gave her the push she needed to go get him. 

gif cred: @twdfranchise

I love the way Rick is holding one kid and Michonne is holding the other. You know these four are about to be pretty inseparable for a while.

And then you can visibly see the moment they all realize that the time has come for Rick Sr. to meet Rick Jr. 

gif cred: @twdfranchise

Rick looks at RJ who is smiling up at him while holding onto his mom and then, Michonne has such a happy and proud expression as she presents RJ to his dad.

Michonne definitely has such a sweet “look at this life we made” vibe as she holds onto RJ and steps to the side for the two to have their moment.

It’s sweet how RJ seems understandably reserved at first and holds onto his mom until the last second. And then I love seeing Michonne still keep a comforting arm on her son as Rick stands before him. 

Any time I’d picture Rick and RJ’s first interaction, I always pictured one of the first things RJ would note is that this man in front of him is The Brave Man - and sure enough😊. RJ looks up at Rick and the first thing he sweetly says to his dad is, “You’re The Brave Man?” 

gif cred: @riickgrimes

This moment is surreal for Rick, and surreal for me too because we're finally seeing a scene with Rick and RJ, the son he created with Michonne. 🙌🏽😭 And I'm so so happy that Rick was able to come into RJ's life while he's still so young. Rick will get to have an active role in RJ's core childhood and adolescent memories now.

Then, I adore Rick’s response to his son's first words to him. He’s immediately emotional and so he takes a breath and instantly looks right over at Michonne - the mother of his child. 🥹

I love the way you see him again find his center when looking at her during this emotional moment. Michonne really is like the glue between them all in this scene. And I like how she has her arms wrapped around one or more of her children at all times during this reunion. 

There’s just so much communicated in Rick’s look over at Michonne. It was another "Baby, we made a baby" moment between them as you can see it truly hitting Rick that he's meeting the son he made with his soulmate.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

After Michonne had reassured Rick that he really is the Brave Man that his kids believe him to be along their journey home, I love that Rick now gets to hear it directly from the source. 

Rick then looks back at RJ with so much emotion etched on his face as he responds, “I am.” 😭 He doubted if he was the Brave Man before, but I think especially now hearing his little mini-me say it, Rick knows he too can believe that’s who he is.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then I love the way Michonne again expresses how highly she views Rick as she says her final line of TOWL, looking to RJ while holding onto Judith as she smiles and says, “He is.” 🥹

It’s fitting for Michonne's last line to again be one that expresses her utmost belief in Rick. She wants her son to know that this father in front of him really is The Brave Man from years ago and still is The Brave Man right here and now. In fact, now more than ever. 

gif cred: @riickgrimes

RJ smiles over at his mom and then looks back up at Rick just adorably beaming. And it really feels like he’s meeting his hero.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

And then it is precious beyond words when Rick adjusts RJ’s hat just like he’d do with Carl. 🥹

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick then leans down and places a hand on RJ's shoulder just like he’d do with Carl too. And I love that Rick is so seamlessly back in father mode.

(Side note: It hit me that Rick will now get to have bonding moments of telling RJ stories about his big brother 😭)

I adore this hat moment between Rick and RJ for so many reasons but especially because we were introduced to Rick Grimes in that hat from the very beginning of TWD. And after going on this years-long whirlwind journey with him, it is so extremely special that Rick's final scene includes him getting to see that hat on his youngest son after it was such a staple to him and his eldest son. 🥲

Rick securing the hat on RJ's head really felt like he wanted his son to know how proud he feels to see him carrying on this Grimes heirloom.

And then Rick so tenderly says, “But maybe you can call me Dad.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

gif cred: @riickgrimes

I love that Rick is so ready and eager to be a dad to his son. And I just know he and RJ will have such an incredible bond. Like Judith and Carl definitely felt like true blue Michonners lol, and RJ is too, but I also like to think RJ’s going to end up really gravitating to Rick. I can fully envision them being a super close father and son. 🥰

Then RJ says with certainty, “I knew you’d come back.” And I love the framing of this scene where you can see all four family members in the shot as they look at the youngest member of the Grimes.

It’s so sweet the way Michonne and Judith are holding each other tight and the way Rick has that fatherly hand on RJ’s shoulders as he looks right at him, likely still marveling that he’s looking at his own flesh and blood right now. 

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And when RJ says he knew Rick would come back, they all look curious about how the adorable baby of the family knew this. So Rick says his final line of TOWL as he asks RJ, “How?”

Y'all, I love that this is what Rick says for his last line because again, it makes me think of the end of season 4 - the pivotal era when Richonne fell in love with each other - and the classic scene where Michonne says she knows Rick's okay and he asks her "How?"

And just like back then when Michonne gave a beautiful answer to Rick's question and said, "Cause I'm okay too," - Their baby boy RJ also has a beautiful answer to Rick's question.

RJ replies with the final line of TOWL, saying, “I believed.” 

The sentiment of RJ revealing that he too was believing a little longer this whole time is so special. 🥹 And it's touching that Rick and Michonne's son gets the last line of this epic love story.

gif cred: @riickgrimes

RJ saying 'I believed' is beautiful because he’s what his parents believed in for the future all those years ago and now his mom and dad get to hear that he believed in them back.

It’s heartwarming thinking first Rick had to believe a little longer that he’d reunite with his family, and then Michonne had to believe a little longer that Rick would reunite with their family, and then they get to see that even the child they created was believing right along with them. A child born from their belief.

As two characters fueled by believing, it really is powerful to see the final note being Rick and Michonne's son doing just that - believing his dad would find his way back to their family. That's the very mission Rick went on since the pilot of this franchise, and his story ends with him succeeding. Rick found his family and isn't going to be taken away from them this time. 🥹

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick seems deeply moved to hear his son say this and so he has this emotional smile at him and you can tell he so badly wants to finally hug his son. But again he lets RJ set the pace. And RJ sets the pace perfectly with the best hug. 😭

I adore the way this little boy hugs his dad for the first time. It just was so moving and so clear that he’s been wishing to be able to have his dad in his life for a long time. He needed his father and now here Rick is. 🥲 And Rick wanted this child long ago and now here RJ is.

Seeing Rick finally getting to hold his son, his 'other way to build for the future,' - it's clear Rick needed this too. 🥹

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick really is RJ's hero already, so RJ embraces him fully. And, of course, Rick is immediately reciprocal as he embraces his son and kisses his hat. 😭

I think about how Rick gave Carl that hat after he'd been shot in the woods. Giving Carl the hat was one of the ways Rick aimed to comfort his son during an extremely trying time. And then Carl wore that hat everywhere after. And when he died, it was hard for Rick to even look at the hat. But now the hat has become a positive symbol again as Rick gets to kiss the hat on his youngest son and honor the memory of his oldest son.

It’s so evident Rick and RJ already love each other. And I applaud both actors for only having one hug to show how much they love each other and pulling it off so completely. This Rick and RJ hug is everything, truly. 🥹🙌🏽

I love the way the theme music swells and rises as Rick and RJ stay in that heartfelt embrace, never wanting to let go. And I love Michonne and Judith’s reaction to seeing these boys finally get to meet and appear so instantly bonded. Rick's family means everything to him and in this scene, he gets to see that he means everything to them too. 🥹

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Judith’s emotional response to seeing her little brother meet and hug their dad always puts a lump in my throat. 🥲 Again, it was the perfect big sister-type response. She’s probably felt like a stand-in mom for RJ while Michonne was gone and has been really protective of him and just again wants to know he’s okay. And it’s like in this reunion moment she’s aware that her baby brother really will be okay because now RJ gets to experience a family with both his parents, like she did when she was younger.

And Michonne just seems so happy to see her husband and son be so instantly connected. It has to be the greatest feeling ever to know that this baby she brought into this world alone will now have his father who adores him in his life.

And to see the love of her life, who she knows has been through so much, including the loss of Carl, get to now embrace his son and be a father to their kids again like he most cherished and was devoted to being. 🥹 Michonne so earnestly wanted Rick to have the chance to see the beautiful family they created. And now Rick is seeing it fully. And that visibly brings Michonne's heart pure joy. 

gif cred: @kris-lulu

So then, after Rick and RJ get their own moment with this wonderful hug, Michonne and Judith join in for a family group hug and it’s just the epitome of a joyous conclusion for Rick and Michonne and the Grimes family’s story. I adore it. 🙌🏽

Michonne and Judith wrap their arms around Rick and RJ and Michonne and Rick share their final sweet and super married-with-kids kiss. I love the way Michonne smiles as they lean in for the kiss. 😊 And the way Rick of course doesn't stop at one as he leans in for the second kiss. 😋

It's great that after over 100 TOWL kisses they still included one more. It's only right to end the show with a kiss since, again, it's canonically one of Rick and Michonne's absolute favorite things. 😊

gif cred: @riickgrimes

This last kiss is really special because it just again feels like Rick and Michonne having a moment to acknowledge that despite all the odds and obstacles over their many years in TWD, their many years apart, and then on their TOWL journey reuniting - they overcame, fell in the deepest love, and created this beautiful family together.

And now they get to live out their lives with this blissful Grimes family, loving on each other as hard as they can while they can. 🙌🏽

This family hug is just such a sweet moment of connection. I adore the way it’s filmed where it feels like Rick is holding his family and his family is holding him back. The shot with all three of their arms on Rick’s back is art. After a long and epic journey, these three are Rick Grimes' incredible reward. 🥹

(Side note: one of the things I think Rick probably will most like about Michonne's wedding ring is that it can be seen from a very far distance which means everyone from even miles away will know Michonne is taken lol.)

And then we get one more confirmation that Richonne are and always have been magnets. 🧲 Because as the camera pans out from the greatest family hug in history, Rick and Michonne both lower their arms down at the exact same time and do that little comforting thumb rub. You know my extra self is always here for even the subtlest of magnetic synchronicity between the two.

Y'all, this really is the perfect visual to conclude their story to me. 🥹

gif cred: @lousolversons

Like seeing Michonne with her wedding ring-clad hand holding onto RJ while he holds onto his dad and Judith holds onto her and Rick, fills me with joy and emotion when I think about Michonne's whole journey.

Losing a partner and a young son, Mike and Andre, shutting down and living isolated for a while, showing up to a prison with formula for her future daughter Judith, building such a special bond with her son Carl, falling in love with her soulmate Rick, becoming a great leader, and resiliently bringing another son into the world, RJ. She's been through a lot on her journey and I adore how love and family found her and wholly embraced her as she fully embraced them right back.

Michonne Grimes' journey ending with her wrapping her arms around her babies and husband is just beautiful. 🥹🙌🏽

I also love that Judith and RJ will now get to experience their mom having the love of her life back in her life. The kids will see their mom happier and more loved than they’ve ever seen her now that Rick is back with them.

The Michonne they knew was one who was resiliently trying to live in the thick of a unique, lonely, and crippling grief. But now she can be all of her again because her other half has returned and is fully prepared to make up for lost time and love on her and their kids the way they all need.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And seeing Rick be so loved and held by his family after everything in his journey means the world. 🥹

Waking up from a coma to learn the world had ended, refusing to succumb to defeat as he searched for his family, finding the people closest to him from the world before, Carl, Lori, and Shane, and then having to put together that Lori and Shane had fallen for one another in his brief absence. Experiencing the relationship with Lori and Shane crumble and result in death (one of which he had to kill because his 'brother' tried to kill and replace him), going through a mental breakdown but still having to lead, protect, and raise his young son and his newborn Judith.

Then, meeting the love of his life Michonne when she shows up at the prison fence, trying to have opposition with her at first but then falling head over heels in love with her, and no longer having to carry the weight of the world alone because now he has a soulmate who can lead him, lead others, love his children, and love him back to life time and time again. Losing his son Carl twice, realizing his son and family were always with him, and then getting to look in the eyes of his youngest son and finally hold RJ.

Along his journey, Rick endured many opponents, adversity, and painful losses, including losing himself when stripped of his family for nearly a decade. He had many fascinating arcs, many ups and downs, and managed to keep his signature good kind heart intact which is true strength. And no matter who thought they were bigger, better, or badder than him, Rick always proved to be the bravest. And it's the love for his family that made him brave and made him ultimately come out on top.

So Rick Grimes' journey ending with his wife, daughter, and youngest son back in his arms and loving him like he never left is just perfect. 😭🙌🏽

gif cred: @riickgrimes

That final image of the four of them in this family hug amid the lush greenery truly looks like the embodiment of ‘things break but they can still grow.’ And this whole new plant - this wonderful family Richonne grew - is so well-deserved. Rick and Michonne truly triumphed.🎉

I think about how in 9.03 the song that played over their Family Fun Day with Judith was "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything" and seeing the Grimes family hugging and happy at the end of TOWL is all I ever wanted for them. 🥹

(That's part of why my stance on the future is - whatever it looks like, be it Richonne returning in a quick cameo, or returning for even more than that, or not returning at all, I just want Richonne and their kids to be happy, together, and at peace).

Also, I’m telling you right now, from here on out if Rick can’t get to someone named Michonne, Judith, or RJ within 5 minutes or less, he’s going to feel he’s gone too far away because you know he’s about to be attached to the hip to his family. 😊

I really feel like Rick is going to live out his life just healthily & happily obsessed with his wife and kids and so deeply grateful to Michonne every time he looks at their family and the life they have. Like the way he stays giving Michonne her flowers, you know he’s never going to forget that it was her fighting for him and their kids that allowed them to live out this beautiful life they have now.

As the camera pans out, the four stay in this embrace and it’s just such a bright and rewarding shot. Then they show the sky as helicopters are seen flying ahead, no longer with bombs but with resources. As people noted, Richonne would be the type to not just bring themselves back home but bring back whole helicopters with loads of valuable resources too. Baddest to ever do it. 👑

Seeing the sky with those helicopters is a reminder that the world has gotten a lot bigger since those early TWD days. And after having everything but the kitchen sink thrown their way along their path, here Richonne stand, with their son and daughter, happy, healed, and whole because they’re the ones who live and the ones whose love lives on forever. 

And while this might be the end for us getting to follow their story, I again appreciate that Richonne's story closes with not just a happy ending but a happy beginning. The best years are ahead of them now that they get to all be together. And you know this gorgeous family uniting makes Carl beam from ear to ear up above. 😇

Oh and there’s also that deleted Grimes family picnic scene which is a canon moment to me. And I adore it. 🤩 I’d been hoping they’d return to doing those lovely family picnics so I was glad they filmed one. Also, it makes me so happy to remember that RJ is a part of both this current Family Fun Day picnic and the precious one from years before. 😊

In this unaired TOWL picnic scene, I love seeing Judith laughing and relishing Mom and Dad being back with them like she always believed they’d be. She grew up on these Family Fun Day picnics and now years later she gets to enjoy them again. 🥲

I love seeing intelligent little RJ holding the Rubik's cube and wearing the signature Grimes Sherrif's hat in between his mom and sister. And I especially love seeing RJ already seem so comfortable and smiley with Rick. (I love how they said the young actor Antony really gravitated to Andy. 🥹 This picnic clip definitely gave a glimpse of that)

I love seeing Michonne wearing that pretty and colorful dress and smiling so brightly with her family reunited. The flowy outfit choice is meaningful to me because, at the top of TOWL, she was given this guarded armor and similarly had to live with figurative guarded armor since Rick’s TWD departure. But now that she’s got her loving husband and kids back she gets to just fully take down all armor and be so free, open, safe, and loved as a woman, wife, and mother. 🙌🏽

And I love seeing Rick look so relaxed, playful, and elated to be here with his wife and kids. He looks like he's once again winning that Husband & Dad of the Year title. And the way he’s smiling and laughing basking in this moment, you can see he adores his family so much. This Grimes family moment is everything Rick and Michonne wanted for their lives. And this is everything I wanted for them too. 🥹

gif cred: @nessawakenobi

In the actual TOWL ending, as they panned out from the Grimes family hug, it doesn’t feel like they're becoming distant from us but rather we’re seeing the full picture and letting the Grimes family love fill the entire space.

And as the Grimes family embraces and fills the screen with love, the music rises and the show fades to black, officially concluding The One’s Who Live. 👏🏽😭 BEAUTIFUL. 

That also concludes the TOWL season finale revelings and The Ones Who Live revelings as a whole. We made it! 🥳 What a series. What a journey. What a gift Richonne is. 🥹

You know I gotta happy dance one more time over Richonne, TOWL, and the epic love story we've been blessed to witness from 2012 when Michonne and Rick's paths first crossed to 2024 when their love story reached its highest heights, and concluded perfectly.

If you had told me when I started documenting my Richonne observations back in 2017 that years later there would be a whole miniseries dedicated to Richonne’s epic love story, I would have been pleasantly surprised but I’d also believe you because Richonne is truly the gift that keeps on giving. 🎁

I adore how TOWL really came and checked so many of the Richonne wishlist boxes. Rick calling Michonne his wife ✓, the proposal and wedding ring ✓, the RJ reveal ✓, the improved lighting ✓, the scenes with impactful, unvague, and rich dialogue ✓, the intimacy ✓, the Grimes family reunion ✓, the Grimes family reunion with all the original actors ✓, and much more. They gave Richonne their things, honey. 👏🏽😌

And I especially love the way The Ones Who Live ultimately landed on a message of love being what comes to the rescue when the world falls apart. Love is what it's all about at the end of the day.

Along their years-long journey, the way Richonne fell in love was beautiful. And the way they stayed in love was just as beautiful. I’m so grateful to have witnessed Rick and Michonne Grimes' powerful journey from first locking eyes at a prison fence in season 3 to looking into each other's eyes with such adoration and appreciation as they agreed to have a child together in season 9. To now reuniting with that lovely child and their dear daughter in TOWL.

Rick and Michonne have remained such captivating characters over the years, and so much of that has to do with the incredible artists that bring them to life.

Andy and Danai are generational talents with such compatible gifts - exceptional eye acting, line delivery, vulnerability, physicality, and raw honesty infused in their craft. And then you add to that playing compelling characters in love, allowing them to tap into their rare and extraordinary chemistry. You’re bound to get something special when pairing them together like this. 👏🏽

So I'm grateful to the whole TOWL cast & crew, and most of all the captains - Andy, Danai, and Scott. We really got to see Richonne through their eyes with TOWL. 🥹 And the way those three view Richonne and bring this love story to life is resplendent. I love that with The Ones Who Live they told the story they wanted to tell - and we Richonne fans were just happily in alignment with the vision. 😌

They’re the type who put thought into even something like Rick and Michonne's hand placement in bed at the end of TWD 6.10 because they care about how Richonne is portrayed in every frame. And I will forever appreciate their attention to detail with Richonne. All these RiR posts really are my way of saying that the thought and care put into crafting these exceptional characters and their exemplary love story don't go unnoticed.

Andy and Danai have given us so much as Rick and Michonne over the years so whether this is 'goodbye for good' or 'goodbye for now,' I respect it.

The iconic roles of Rick and Michonne were truly meant for them. Danai and Andy approached these characters with love, respect, thoughtfulness, and passion, and ensured Rick and Michonne were in good hands. So I just can't thank them enough. ��🏽🥹

Also, a big thank you to the gifted Richonne GIF creators. 👏🏽🤩 You are invaluable staples to this fandom and your gifs of Richonne's TOWL & TWD moments are beautiful. Linking to your amazing gifs helped me elevate these posts and string this all together. My posts wouldn't be the same without you, so I'm very grateful to you. 🙏🏽

And sincerely thank you to everyone who took the time to read these posts and to everyone who commented, messaged, PM'd, reblogged, and followed. Your thoughtful insights, reactions, and support really have always made the days brighter both over the last two months and over all these years of reveling in Richonne.

Hearing your takes on Richonne helped me see things from an even fuller perspective. Hearing that these breakdowns were looked forward to and even uplifting to read during hard times really moved me and made me feel less alone since reflecting on Richonne has also helped me focus on the bright things in this world when life feels dark. I've loved hearing what you love about TOWL and about these RiR posts. Thank you for sharing with me. 🫶🏽 Your words of encouragement have meant a lot to this Words of Affirmation girl. 😊

There were times when I was working away at these posts and wondering if I'm certifiably crazy for writing whole 'dissertations' on every second of Richonne's love story. 😅 (i think the answer is yes lol). But the encouragement I'd receive over here was a big motivator to follow through, give every scene its flowers, and share these in-depth breakdowns with you all. So please know that you and your good kind heart are super appreciated. 🙏🏽 I hope you remain blessed in all ways and on all days. 💗

And to Future Me - hi 👋🏽 I wrote these TOWL novel-length breakdowns for the fandom and for you too. For those times when you’ll want to make your day a bit better by revisiting these posts and remembering all the thoughts and elation you had over Richonne - your favorite thing - shining the brightest it’s ever shined in a 6-episode epic love story. 🌟

Rick and Michonne Grimes and their captivating story are extremely dear to my heart and always will be. And this miniseries that gave them and their love the spotlight means so much. The Ones Who Live is a true treasure, and I’m so glad we’ll have it forever. 🥹🙌🏽

After hundreds of 'dissertations' and years of pursuing a Ph.D in Richonne (😋📚🎓), I just have to say that breaking down the beginning, middle, and end of this epic love story with this fun and insightful fandom has been such a joy. Has me feeling like...

There will be people who come around to watching TWD/TOWL now or years later who weren’t keeping up with the show when it first aired. And some of those people are bound to get bit with the Richonne bug just like I did several years ago.

So my hope is that anyone, be it new Richonners or long-time Richonners, whoever wants to reminisce and revel and relive each and every moment of Rick and Michonne’s iconic, powerful, and stunning journey can always come back to these RiR breakdowns whenever, and feel like they’re 'read-watching' the show, and dissecting and celebrating whatever is beautiful about Richonne with a good friend. Because Richonne is timeless and a little reveling is good for the soul.

I hope these plenty of posts brought and continue to bring enjoyment, insight, laughs, light, and just the best warm feelings because in the words of my beloved Michonne - It did for me. 😌

Always and forever, thank you so much for reading & Long Live Richonne. 👑🧲🥰👌🏽

[aizawaskittenwhore]

bedroom stats with armin!

hi guys im back, this is not to b taken seriously but i had to get these lil armin hcs out my drafts so enjoy! <3

content warnings: uh..smut!

yeah that’s about it. let me know if i missed anythin in the notes !

im not gonna say “armin likes missionary because hes shy/inexperienced >.<“ because not only is that played out, it’s not even true!!

armin’s thing is backshots w you on your stomach. pillow underneath you for optimal comfort, but sometimes if he’s in a rush, he doesn’t mind using the wall to serve his purpose

yes there are marks from where your neck and chest have mushed themselves into the drywall, forehead smearing sweat against eggshell paint as you revel in how fucking good he feels

he’s so fucking analytical in everything he does, even down to sex positions and what angles hit deepest when he’s fucking you..

Talks You Through It™️

im so deadass.

he loves watching you shiver as his lips come into range, his breath heady as it ghosts along your nervous system, your body zoned in on the sensation that is armin whispering utter filth as he rocks into you again, and again, and again

“i know, i know—“ you’re pushing his lower stomach in protest, his tip poking and prodding sweet moans out of you, body waivering when he molds himself into your cervix for just a second, retreating only to seemingly go even deeper on the next stroke

“move your fuckin’ hand.” is almost a whisper when he says it. but his voice is so deep and so sensuous when it slithers through you like that. naturally, your hand goes limp

“f-feel you in my stomach..”

“just means i got you to feel good.”

prefers to give over receive, less for you more for him

armin arlert relaxes by slurping up pussy juice and honestly, good for him!

does a lot of grunting during sex but his voice is just so breathy so it comes out angelic as fuck mmm

armin is also a whisperer during sex like he loves watching u shiver when he gets real close, body already being propelled from the momentum of him fucking you but when he starts whispering nasty shit in your ear as though he’s not in your guts???

mm

just mm.

throws his head back when he’s about to cum

yes with a lip bite cause for some strange reason he tries not to moan like you don’t love that shit..but go off i suppose

physically speaking no his dick is not enormous but it really makes no difference cause honey

stroke game gives rock the boat, rock the boat

im sorry i really wanted to add that AHAHA

nah but armin’s coming in at like 6.5 hard

and that’s ok!

also contrary to popular belief armin is an ass man.

it’s something about a nice ass and pair of thighs that’s gonna get him hard without fail, as he should

eats it from the back too

no i will not elaborate further

also loves it when you break script and don’t play along

he’s always had a thing for the “taming a bad girl” fantasy, possibly attributed to his rule-following mentality with everything else, but hey what do i know

calls u “nasty girl” when you’re getting nutted on

rubs it in w the tip after facials..

armin is a freak y’all better act like you know