#and yet they believe wholeheartedly that THEIR GUY will be the one

[papayafiles]

the last one by maisie peters is the national anthem of every f1 drivers' family, friends, mechanics, engineers, team, and fans

[tender-rosiey]

hii! I hope youre doing well ^^ n I have a request!

Fatherhood Gojo, Yuta and Suguru (separate) seeing their daughter have a love interest

let’s say the daughter is like 4-5, just started school with a strong start, one day when they come to pick up their kid— they see a boy that’s also 4-5, giving their daughter flowers or something, how would they react?

(I can imagine mother!reader being delighted at the sight, gojo being dramatic, Yuta being stressed out, and Suguru having a polite smile but yet clenching his fist LMFAO)

“I WILL THROW HANDS AT ANYONE EVEN A KID"

— gojo, sukuna, and suguru seeing their five year old daughter with a love interest (f!reader)

a/n: here you go go <33 i am so sorry bae that I couldn't include yuuta 😭

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter is naturally charismatic.

satoru wholeheartedly believes that it is something she has inherited from him.

you disagree because you can’t remember anybody who remained friends with satoru after actually talking to him, aside from those forced to, of course.

now another thing that satoru believes is that said charisma is a double-edged sword. from one side, his daughter is able to make friends quickly which gives him a piece of mind.

on the other side, the thing that makes his vein pop is the fact that filthy dirt-covered boys approach her.

he thought he had solved that problem when he scared away that last kid during her ballet class , but it seems there are always people who are competing for her heart.

he didn’t expect to run into one today though, especially not one blatantly gifting her a bouquet in front of the school gates.

the kid is a blushing mess as he gives the bouquet to her, and your daughter is nothing less than ecstatic. she jumps around, really happy with her bouquet and squealing about how pretty it is.

the little boy smiles timidly as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something that satoru can’t be bothered to care about.

the only things occupying his mind are two: the kid who dares to even speak to his daughter and you with your cute smile because you’re happy for her.

so, he arranges things as he prioritizes him.

he presses one big smooch to your cheek and squishes you in an ever so love-filled hug.

then he proceeds to make his way to deal with the kid who is making moves on his little baby.

he towers behind the boy, and before his little girl greets him, satoru carries the kid from his scruff and throws him in the ball pit conveniently placed beside him.

the kid screams as he falls into the ball-filled abyss.

hurriedly, he gathers his daughter in his arms and showers her with kisses. he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, “how was your day, honey?”

“it was so nice, papa!” she says happily them gets out the bouquet she was given, “and I even got this bouquet!”

“oh, really?” he hums as he takes the bouquet from her hands into his. he inspects it, distaste filling his expression.

you walk to him with a little pep in your step and place your hand around his shoulder, while you kiss your daughter’s cheek.

she squeals a delightful, “mama!” and throws herself into your arms.

you guys quickly get caught in your own conversations, not noticing satoru quickly releasing his technique blue at the poor bouquet making it effectively disappear from existence.

another day saved.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the daughter of ryomen sukuna had its perks.

people strayed away and kept their distance. however, your daughter was a natural sweetheart—ironic considering her father but anyway.

that meant that little boys around estate had a tiny little crush on her which they would never act upon since they do want to continue living.

of course, there is an exception to the norm.

and that exception came in the form of a little servant boy presenting your daughter with a bunch of flowers that he had plucked himself.

your daughter was taken back, and she got flustered but accepted the flowers, nonetheless. on the other hand, you were watching from the side lines and were cheering both her and the boy on.

it was an innocent little gesture between kids. no harm done, so there was no need for—

“what the hell is this?”

you feel your husband’s menacing aura, before you hear his words. you turn to him and rest your hands on his chest and say, “d/n got flowers! isn’t that cute?”

“I can see that,” he grumbles, pinching your cheek in annoyance then directing his gaze to the kids, “but why the hell is a little good-for-nothing servant approaching my daughter? in fact, these servants should not be allowed to talk to her so casually.”

“sukuna, it’s not that big of a deal. just let them be,” you huff, “it’s not like she will fall in love with him, and he will convince her to overthrow you when they’re older.”

your husband stays quiet for a few moments. the man looks like he is actually considering the scenario that you just suggested.

and judging by him slowly approaching the kids, sukuna is going to go with the “better safe than sorry” approach.

you quickly run after him and jump on his back, “love, love, I was joking! please don’t kill him!”

sukuna groans, “and why should I listen to you?”

“cause you love me, and I love you? and we’re husband and wife, y’know?” you smile nervously, and he sets you down, so he can look you in the eye.

“I don’t love you,” he states.

“so I don’t love you?” you inquire.

he smirks, “no, that’s different. you’re obviously infatuated by me.”

“no, loving you is an effect of you loving me, so according to you,” you turn your back to him, “I don’t love you.”

he is about to retort when he feels something holding onto his leg. he looks down, and he sees his daughter beaming up at him.

she raises the flowers as high as she could and chirps, “dad, I got these flowers!”

sukuna’s eyes snap to where the kid was and finds no one. he fled, and he didn’t get to memorize his face. he slowly turns his face to you, and you stand there smirking at him.

he quirks an eyebrow at you, “oh? well, I will deal with you later tonight.”

GETO SUGURU:

you were busy watching over your daughter playing with her playdate. the little boy was your neighbour’s son, and, in general, he was good company.

the boy was polite and knew how to treat your little girl right. similarly, your little girl cherishes him very much and always rambles about him at dinner.

now, initially, suguru was okay with it.

he thought that maybe she was excited about her playdate and that it would eventually wear off, but then she started talking about him every single day since she met him.

suguru prides himself on being rational and collected. he wouldn’t stoop down to a level that gojo would. gojo was a manchild, but suguru? suguru is a grown man, a husband, and a father.

so, no, he won’t do anything to the boy.

and he certainly isn’t rushing to the playdate location, so he can stop the boy from making his daughter talk about him more.

one of his curses was watching the kids, and said curse picked up on the boy sneaking a flower behind his back. suguru concluded that he was definitely going to give it to her.

your husband finally arrives, handing you your ice cream and kissing the top of your head, “your ice cream, just how you like it, love.”

“aww, thank you, suguru,” you say as you hug him and pepper his face with kisses. suguru gets lost in your affection, forgetting about his supposed mission.

it’s not until that he notices the boy’s parents standing with the two kids that he remembers it.

“how about we go and see what the kids are up to?” he asks you, a bit urgently, and you nod, knowing what your husband is thinking.

it’s lowkey funny.

the boy’s mother takes notice of you two approaching, “oh hello mr and mrs geto!”

“hello miss c/n! are the kids getting along well?” you smile while patting your daughter’s head.

the mother giggles, “more than well, in fact. our little boy has given little d/n a flower today!”

from the corner of your eye, you can see your husband’s smile tighten and his face get stiffer and stiffer by the second.

you take his hand into your own and slowly rub it with your thumb. it does little to calm him down.

he claps his hand lightly and steps in front of the parents and says kindly, “please take your little shi—”

he feels you kick his foot from the back and quickly corrects his wording, “please distance your ki—”

you discreetly stomp on his foot, and he tries his hardest to keep his smile. he sighs defeated and hangs his head low, defeated as he mumbles, “have a nice day.”

you nod in satisfaction, and your daughter giggles.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[thecameronchronicles]

Heat of The Moment

TW: unhinged Rafe. Dominant sex. Dirty talk. Language. Oral sex. Hair pulling. Cum swallowing.

REQUESTED:

@gianadrichardson-blog

So the idea I have in my mind is that y/n and Rafe are dating and Rafe KNOWS that every guy wants y/n from tourons, college guys and even his best friends want her. So while y/n was out of town with her parents, Topper accidentally revealed that he had feelings for y/n and tried to date her while her and Rafe was in the talking stage. So Rafe calls y/n and sees where she at. When Rafe gets y/n location he shows up and let out his frustration he had and record them having sex with y/n then send to topper with the message “keep away from my girl”

Maybe y/n older brother have y/n phone and decided to play a prank on rafe acting like a guy had y/n phone

Heat of the Moment

"What the fuck, Top?!" Rafe accuses, holding Topper's phone high enough out of reach. But your pictures remain on the screen. More specifically, pictures the friend of your boyfriend shouldn't have.

"I- just stop it, man-"

"My girlfriend's tits are on your screen! What am I supposed to think?"

"She's in a bikini but it it doesn't matter okay? Just-just let me have it back." But Rafe smashes it before Topper can even brush his fingers against it. His finger is pointed in his former friend's face before he can right Rafe's actions that he believes wholeheartedly are justified.

"Rafe. When you and her were just talking, I...I thought I had a shot. I get that now, okay? I just, sometimes I wonder what if-"

"If I even see you looking at her after this, you won't be able to ever look again."

Rafe was already fuming. He was jealous and curious, both existing to a dangerous degree that meant his knuckles were bloodied more than healed and his voice hoarse from having defended you.

There wasn't a soul within a dramatic radius within the Outer Banks that didn't see your beauty. Whether it was the stunning way your eyes could focus and become instantly lustful with one look at your boyfriend or the way your voice warmed even the coldest of hearts, Rafe Cameron knew exactly what he had.

Perfection.

He just didn't expect to have to have to defend you to someone so close to him- someone who has apparently had feelings for you since before you were officially anything with Rafe. It makes his hands wrap tightly around the steering wheel and his foot practically punch a hole into the floor of his truck as he races across the Carolina road.

He never thought he left it to question. You were his. He was yours. It was as official as it could be without a ring or contract of marriage and yet he knew he needed to make it unquestionably true to the one person it mattered to.

So without a call or text in warning, he is pounding at your front door.

"Rafe? Are you okay baby, you-" He is over your threshold, face between your hands, your body pulled into his as he kisses you between words.

"You know I love you, yeah?" You nod with your hands coming up around his wrists. If you didn't trust him so gravely then you'd worry for the strength behind his hands as he brought you against him.

"You know I'd do anything for you?" He kisses with a grunt, more animal than the man you talked to earlier this morning.

"And that you say our word and it stops, no questions asked? That you know I put you first?" His forehead rests against yours as he waits for your agreement. It takes less than the time of a blink before he gets it.

"Good, remember that because I'm about to fuck you like I hate you." He lifts you around him and up your steps, suddenly too far away from your room.

You were the complete opposite of touch starved and yet you felt as if you had been drowning without his touch, the first moment of contact being an exhale for relief. Only in the juxtaposition that was being his girlfriend it also made you lightheaded.

"Rafe-" His hand comes up over your mouth as he only manages to get to the steps and turns you to cover them. Your knees dig into the uncomfortable wood and yet all you can focus on is the heat of the moment.

"Need to use that word, baby?"

You shake your head as he guides your hands around the open spaces between the bars making up your bannister.

"Then hold on." His belt sounds first and then the rough fabric of his pants being shoved.

"Jesus Christ, baby, I don't even need to spit on my cock, so I?" He leans over you, kicking your legs just wide enough to leave some comfort in the angle. "Always so wet for me isn't that right?"

"Always!" You moan into his hand as he grins against your shoulder before reaching into his pocket.

You hear the wrapper of the confom being torn and make the mistake to turn and see him do it with his teeth. Something about the savagery of it and the heat behind his eyes, still possessing your care above all else, and it sends you drenching the valley awaiting him.

"Safe and-" He moans, a deep honey tone, that makes your toes curl knowing you wrap around him snuggly enough to cause such a reaction.

"Tight, baby! Fuck!" He hits the stairs beside your cheek and yet it does nothing to limit anything. If anything, it spurs you both on as his other hand releases your mouth and you're able to kiss the skin of his fist as if to soften his rigidity.

"How are you so sweet AND sexy-hmm? Always know just what I need don't you baby?" Your body wills itself to endure all that is Rafe Cameron. Every tension soiling his happiness now pumping through every snap of his hips until all that remains is the frustration you know he veils from you. Still, you trust that every shove of him into you is only a method of showing you he cares.

However, it has never been quite this possessive before. Quite this needy. Quite this deep or hard.

And you fucking love it.

His hands can't move fast enough and yet they are graceful and not amateur. He rolls your nipples as he kisses your neck, thrusting without break, and whispering every dirty thought you have constructed in your time apart.

And then he becomes completely and utterly unhinged. Taking you in his lap, he pulls you facing away from him, still seated to the root. He bounces you, one hand around your neck, as the other rubs your clit. It can't be comfortable for him with the wood beneath you and still he is too driven by the cries you're making in the sound of his name to care about anything but this next thrust-or the dozens that follow.

"Nobody knows just how dirty you get for me, isn't that right baby? How deep you take my dick in this perfect little pussy? Yeah?" He slaps your clit with just enough pressure to make you jolt until he lifts his hips and makes you forget of the sting it leaves behind.

"How loud you get? It's a miracle nobody has called the cops yet. You sound like you're in pain, shit-" He turns you to him with the grip around your neck moving to your jaw and turning you to him.

"You good baby?"

"Harder-"

"That's my fucking girl?" You're lifted with a gasp following you as he takes you into your room. You are only allowed the reprieve of wood beneath your soles for a second before he's rutting you into the bed. Hand pushing your face into the sheets to somewhat muffle your screaming, all you hear is the repetitive "yeah"s in the mix of your name as he wallows in you.

"Do I have to worry about anyone else ever knowing about how good you feel?" You are torn away from your blissful daze at the question.

"What?" You turn and face him, seeing the phone pointed towards you. The heat from your skin accelerated until it is now the marrow in your bones and you can't cool it, not that you want to.

"Who fucks you deep enough to make you soak his cock like this?"

"Rafe!" You manage as he pulls your hair and makes your back arch for him.

"Who makes you dizzy and shit when he knows just where to hit?"

He pulls you to him, against his chest until you can look up at him.

"Who loves you enough to prove to everyone on this goddamn island you're his?! Huh?"

"RAFE! GOD! YOU, RAFE?" You sob, the pleasure almost painful as he grips your hip with one hand and keeps the phone recording in the other. The video is shaky and then disposed of as his cum begins to shoot from his heavy balls and up his shaft.

"On your knees, baby-" He takes the phone back, pointing it to your face. As always, he kisses you sweetly and runs a thumb over your lips, before you take him behind your smirk.

"Ohhh baby-" You accept him slowly before opening your throat to him. Eyes locked and cheeks prepped to be hollow, you wait as he cocks his head before powering through. He thrusts.

Twice.

Once.

And then becomes a blur.

Only grunts and 'fucks' leave between moans.

"Shit baby, you're gonna make me come- you want it?" He asks, managing to open his eyes long enough to see you nod. Digging your nails into his thighs, you drive him to pulse into your throat, over your tongue, and along with your swallow.

"Open-" he points the camera to show just the good girl you are.

"I fucking love you, baby, and now nobody will question who you belong to again."

"I don't think they do, Rafe..." You laugh it off as he helps you to your feet and into his arms within your bed.

As you fall asleep, you hear him tapping away on his phone before finally focusing completely on you. You rest well within his arms, satisfied in the countless orgasms you had as he reached his own, sweet dreams awaiting you that pale in comparison to what it means to be loved by Rafe.

Across town, Topper's phone buzzes. A video file from Rafe. The new phone, bought not even ten minutes after his last one was smashed sits in wait for the message.

MP4 file.

It is opened. The sound of slurping around the impressive shaft, angry and near completion is spliced with the sight of you spread for him on the stairs as well as the hip of the bed. Your cries are only of pleasure and they echo as the video plays.

"Stay away from my girl." Comes a warning meant for Topper.

Only it isn't Topper's eyes that come to the scene.

And it isn't Topper's life that gets the threat.

It is your brother's and he has just been waiting for an excuse to let out his own rage out against Rafe.

MASTERLIST

[chocsra]

✧ STORMBRINGER CHUUYA AS YOUR GUY BSF IS ....

✧ w/c: 588 ✧ content: drabbles & headcanons of cute things with stormbringer! chuuya

☆ a shocked yet distasteful groan pulling from his throat when you show him a picture of a celebrity you find cute, grumbling about how your taste in men sucks ass. you didn't think he was jealous, just shocked at the creature he was looking at. though sometimes, you barely graze the envy on his face when you actually interact with another boy; especially if he's your type, because chuuya knows. still, he brushes your friendly smile with stupidity—because the dude you're talking with 'isn't even all that.'

☆ like having an annoyed caretaker, always keeping an eye out for you, rebuking your recklessness. just appalled that you have this much carelessness for your life on a day to day basis. but even though he'd scold you gently for anything stupid or clumsy you pull, you'd always find a gloved hand reaching out to you, providing support. either when you've stumbled, or you're about to jump off a ledge from even the smallest of heights.

☆ falling face first into the ground whilst trying to fight off one of the port mafia's powerful enemies because your shoelaces were untied. humilated, you found yourself sitting on a bench as chuuya unashamedly scolds you for your rookie mistake. knelt down as he still ties your shoes. "do you double knot your laces?" he'll ask, if you already said yes, the boy would finish one shoe with a tight squeeze, before gently patting your ankle to lace the other one, "well you better start triple knottin' em!"

☆ late night calls about the silliest things. chuuya would have his camera on in his pajamas, either mindlessly fiddling with his guitar, doing some chores, or cooking simply out of boredom. he'd rant about his day, the jewel marketing circulation, this crazy fuck named 'dazai', how much he admires his superior—kouyou, and his friends which call themselves 'the flags'. in return, you can tell him all the school gossip you've picked up on, new music you caught onto, your rants in your notes app.

☆ exchanging knowing side glances at each other when someone's being annoying or a dumb fuck. it's the kind of look two sassy girls would stare at each other with a secret disdain for the person in front of them.

☆ chuuya keeping a hair tie on his wrist for you and him only. at first, it was extra incase he lost his own hair tie, but soon, if you ever needed one, he always keeps extra on his wrist so you wouldn't have messy hair flying everywhere.

☆ taking unwanted photos of chuuya while he chases after you to delete them. sometimes, it'd be mid sneeze or the boy yawning carelessly. he definitely cares once you've did a close up shot where he looks like the epitome of a ginger leprechaun. he'd (try to) snatch your phone and now gives you the stinkiest side eye when you even try to point your phone at him.

☆ unconsciously resting an arm behind your shoulders when you're both sitting side by side. for chuuya, it provides a comforting stretch for his arms, and it feels safer knowing that he can just manuver you if there was ever an unexpected attack. for you, the fact that he just does it so casually makes you a nervous wreck.

☆ believing wholeheartedly that he's human. afterall, you wouldn't feel this much adoration for a code of strings, no? you always internally chide him if he thinks otherwise, but as friends, you thought it's better to give him a comforting pat on the back.

✧ chocsra™

[satellite-evans]

Hi! I saw that you’re taking requests..I wholeheartedly believe that Benedict is one of those ppl who are always warm like a human furnace sooo do you think you could write something about him keeping the reader warm when it’s cold outside (i.e, holding hands, hugging, etc.)

Much love😇💜

Warm Embrace

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: You find solace in the warm and comforting presence of your husband <3

Word count: 874

Warnings: just pure fluff

A/N:

Thank you so much for your request nonnie, You guys make me the happiest girl in the world when you sent in not only request, but also asks or questions, it honestly and truly makes my day🥹🥹🥹

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The chill of the early winter morning seeped through the cracks of the old country house, the wind howling softly outside. You shivered, wrapping your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you looked out the window, watching the first snowflakes of the season dance gracefully to the ground. The room was dimly lit, the pale morning light filtering through the heavy curtains, casting a serene, almost magical glow over everything.

"You're awake early," came a familiar, warm voice from behind you. You turned to see Benedict, his hair tousled from sleep, standing in the doorway of your bedroom. He wore a simple nightshirt, the soft fabric clinging to his well-built frame, his presence comforting and reassuring.

"I couldn't sleep," you admitted, smiling at him. "The cold woke me."

Benedict's eyes softened as he walked over to you, his presence immediately warming the room. "Come here," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His body radiated heat, and you sighed contentedly as you nestled against his chest, feeling his warmth envelop you. His embrace was familiar and secure, the perfect refuge from the biting cold.

He led you back to the bed, pulling the covers up as you both slipped underneath. Benedict wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. His body radiated heat like a human furnace, and you felt the chill melt away as he held you tight. The sensation of his warm skin against yours was incredibly comforting, a stark contrast to the cold air outside the bed.

"Better?" he asked, his lips brushing against your temple.

"Much better," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder. "You always know how to keep me warm."

Benedict chuckled softly, his hand gently rubbing your back. "It's a husband's duty to ensure his wife is comfortable," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Especially on such a cold morning."

You smiled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath your ear. "Well, you're certainly excelling at it," you teased, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. You felt the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, each exhale a soft whisper of warmth against your hair.

Benedict shifted slightly, pulling you even closer, his hands roaming your back in soothing circles. "Stay here with me," he whispered, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We don't have to get up just yet. Let's just enjoy the warmth and the quiet."

You nodded, closing your eyes as you relaxed into his embrace. "There is no place in the world that I would rather at than to be here with you."

The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your cozy cocoon. The wind continued to howl outside, but you felt safe and warm within Benedict's arms. His fingers trailed up and down your spine, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

After a while, Benedict began to hum softly, the deep, rich sound vibrating through his chest. You recognized the tune – a lullaby his mother sang to him and his siblings when they were children. Violet told you that it was the only way her children slept, especially Benedict, who always found it difficult to fall asleep. The melody was soothing, and you felt yourself drifting off, lulled by the warmth of his body and the gentle sound of his voice. You couldn't help but wonder if Benedict would sing it later to his own children too.

Benedict continued to hum, his hands never ceasing their gentle movements on your back. He was like a living, breathing source of warmth and comfort, and you felt incredibly grateful to have him by your side. His warmth seemed to seep into your very bones, driving away any lingering chill.

As the morning light slowly brightened the room, you opened your eyes to find Benedict watching you, a tender smile on his lips. "Good morning again," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The look in his eyes was one of pure adoration, making your heart swell with love.

"Good morning," you replied, leaning in to kiss him. His lips were warm and soft, and you felt a rush of love and contentment wash over you. The kiss was slow and tender and felt like a warm lasting hug that you never wanted to break.

"Shall we get up and start the day?" Benedict asked after a moment, his forehead resting against yours.

You shook your head, a playful smile on your lips. "Not just yet. Let's stay like this a little longer."

Benedict chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "As you wish, my love," he said, settling back against the pillows with you still in his embrace. The sound of his laughter was like a warm breeze, filling you with happiness.

And so you stayed, wrapped in each other's warmth, savoring the quiet moments before the day began. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, all you felt was the heat of Benedict's love, keeping the cold at bay. The world outside could wait; for now, there was only the two of you, nestled together in your own private haven of warmth and love.

[twistedwriting]

Leona Kingscholar Character Analysis

"Haha stupid lazy Lion go brrrr." No. Shut up and delete yourself from my sight.

I have many thoughts on Leona, but the strongest one of them is:

"I want to hug his younger self/his inner child."

I know it's inside of him, hurting and damaged. All he ever wanted was to be loved, to be appreciated, to be *seen*. A child that longed for love but was starved for so long that it got used to the emptiness inside and now, as soon someone tries to show affection, he'll respond with verbal biting.

He's not an asshole by choice. Keeping his distance is the best defense to avoid getting attached.

Outside of Book 2, there's especially one event where he genuinely shows that he just wants to be seen: The Fairy Gala event (or better said his Fairy Gala Vignette). Vil pushed Leona further and further, nagging to no end and beyond until, at some point, Leona lashed out: "I've BEEN helping you out, and all you've done is find fault with every single thing I do. I followed your directions, and what did it get me? NOTHING. Not the slightest bit of progress." It might be my own interpretation of his words but I wholeheartedly believe that the whole Gala story reminded him of how nothing he ever does/did was ever good enough. It didn't matter what he did, it would never be enough. Vil kept nagging him, people at home keep seeing him as nothing more than the second prince, he was never enough. Which is also a reason why I believe he was so "full of himself" when he got the Fairies to be completely whipped: It was attention and appreciation for his work, for *him*. The Fairies didn't know he was Royalty, they didn't know he was the Housewarden of Savanaclaw, they knew nothing yet they were there, showing him attention and how much they loved his doing.

They gave a starving child the food it desperately needed.

If you're being constantly proven that nothing you do matters, if everything you've done is not enough, you slowly but surely stop trying. You stop trying because it doesn't matter anyways. You loose motivation, you end up in an endless circle of self-hatred and lack of motivation. You know you could and you'd know it would be good but it wouldn't be good enough, it wouldn't please anyone. Their judgmental eyes, their lack of praise, the lack of attention suffocates even the smallest amount of self-confidence and the pride you had in your own work. You stop trying because doing nothing at all hurts less than knowing it wasn't enough, again. Leona is smart and I have no doubts that he'd be actually an admirable Housewarden with excellent grades if it weren't for this huge issue in his mind. Additionally to that, I truly believe that he hadn't any intention of leaving school. In Night Raven, he was at least *someone*, he was Housewarden, the highest position in Savanaclaw. At home, he was no one and he had to deal with his family. Falenas part of the family shined brightly while he was the shadow, a dark disappointment. A nobody.

So why leave school? Why leave the only place where you were someone?

Many also dislike Leona for what he did to Ruggie. I don't blame them, I can understand their point but I think they often miss a point in his action: He didn't (only) do it for the sake of hurting Ruggie. Ruggie was/is his right hand, the probably closest person in Night Raven (Or his whole life, if we're being honest). Ruggie could've sucked up to many people - Even if it was only for Leonas money, Ruggie could've crawled up Kalims (Idias or even Rooks) butt or if it was for power, he could've gone for Malleus. But he didn't. His (seemingly) firstchoice was Leona.

Leona, out of all people. Leona, the guy who starved.

And it was Ruggie, who saw Leona fail. Leona made a small mistake and their plan failed - And Ruggie knew it. He was there. So with all that has happened, the fact that Ruggie has seen his fall and I also believe that their very bond has turned uncomfortably sour in Leonas mind, so in the heat of events, there was only one solution: "If I fall, I'm dragging Ruggie down with me."

Additionally, I also believe that Leona instinctively took Ruggie simply because they could work things out in the case he was saved out of Leonas grip. Ruggie would have a problem with Leona for a certain period but in the end, he and Leona would still work together. In a slightly messed up way, he has shown confidence in their mutual trust (which has been proven later in Book 6).

Okay whew, now that I got my view on Leona out of my system, I'm adding some more Headcanons:

I can see him the kind of "I wanna unsubcribe of life but I ain't gonna do it myself".

One of the servants at home has a little daughter and she's the only one he's genuinely looking forward to see during holidays.

He pretends to not notice whenever something "disappeared" (via Ruggie) out of his room but knows. He just doesn't want to put himself nor Ruggie in the position of "You took that" (Secretly thinks "At least being Royalty has *some* positive aspects", aka helping Ruggie out with money without going out of his way to hand the money over to Ruggie. Kind of 'letting him hunt himself')

Has read an insane amount of books as a child (mainly to be by himself and escape reality).

If emotions overboil (which happens more often than expected from him), he lets them out when he's entirely alone (Still feels extremely ashamed after expressing emotions, even though no one noticed)

Does not own a single picture of himself - Neither as a child nor his current self. The only pictures/paintings existing are those his family wanted them to be done.

Despite saying he didn't remember how he got his scar, he knows. He knows and won't forget so easily (still has nightmares of it happening sometimes).

Everyone feared Leona as a child for the way he found his Unique Magic: As a child, he was practicing his magic when his father came a little too close to him and suddenly, the king experienced the very thing Ruggie went through: His skin began to crumble more by the second. Servants and doctors came rushing by, hoping to save the King but he would pass away shortly after from completely drying out.

I must add: I'm rather unhappy about the lost opportunity in Book 2, though. Leona is a well written character, but Disney didn't raise Book 2 high enough for Leona to reach his whole potential (in the game).

Edit: I forgot to mention that being compared to his brother countless times is bound to cause an unhealthy relationship with his brother, which can also result in further issues in Leonas' mental health. It doesn't matter how hard Falena will try to build up the relationship with Leona, they will (most likely) never have a "normal" sibling relationship.

[clairdelunelove]

love thy neighbor

neighbor!itadori yuuji x f!reader, brief mentions of megumi

genre: insane amounts of fluff, comfort, slight angst?

warnings: suggestive, 5.6k words

synopsis: getting a new neighbor was bound to be a hit or miss. and in your case it's a miss. that is, until you're sharing the elevator with a guy that looks like he belongs on the cover of the latest calvin klein magazine. and suddenly, things don't go as planned because he's oddly… sweet?

a.n. had neighbor!yuuji on my mind for a while so I decided to push myself and write smth sickeningly sweet! missed writing longer works so I hope you enjoy! <3

-

-

-

you wholeheartedly believe that your new neighbor has more than 24 hours in a day. 

the incessant noise is an indicator of that. blaring music, doors slamming at odd times, and the animated buzzing of the television during the neighborhood’s quiet hours all filter through your apartment’s worn walls. wails of a melodramatic actress haunted you in your sleep. initially, you chalked it up as a coping mechanism for your neighbor. perhaps she was going through a messy breakup and found comfort in rewatching the same movie series– several times, in fact– to help manage the heartache. you understand; it was a vulnerable type of growth that needed to be dealt with. however, it’s been the exact, aggravating routine for the past two weeks and it was driving you crazy. it had gotten so bad to the point where you were absentmindedly mumbling the corresponding dialogue whenever you were preoccupied with household chores. 

and you’ve never seen her, per se. you’re just assuming that your neighbor was a young woman that reminisced her college days by cranking up the speaker to the highest volume and bouncing around to the beat. deafening stomps to the carpeted floor. at least, that’s what you hear before a piece of furniture inevitably falls from the prancing and it goes dead silent. 

so imagine your surprise when a man steps into the elevator you’re wobbling into and rushes to press his designated floor number. it’s still relatively early. the sun is barely peeking out and the first flush of morning arises to allow the day to commence. yet, he’s panting as he trickles in behind you, squeezing himself through the metal doors before they can close and he’ll be forced to wait a couple minutes. 

“oh,” he utters while noting that you pushed the illuminated button to his apartment floor already, “thanks!” 

his voice is sleek and smooth. it’s cute, quite frankly. it rises in accordance with his gratitude, so much so that you’re intrigued to get a glance at this well-mannered stranger. and gosh— you’re not disappointed at all. 

he’s taller; not at a height that’s towering over you but it’s enough for you to take note of. it’s a fantastic change of pace from the elderly tenants that typically inhabit the building and your eyes eagerly roam to discover more about the male beside you. his hair is, remarkably, pink. a tone that matches the tinge of blush that glazes over his skin due to the sweat that he desperately tries to wipe off. he’s clad in gray workout shorts and a muscle tee, both of which accentuate his toned physique. your mouth literally drops as you openly stare at the cuts of raw, powerful muscle that glisten on his body from underneath the tacky fluorescent lights. 

and, immediately, embarrassment floods through you at the stark contrast behind the reasoning of why you’re up so early in the morning. overly sugary treats to begin your day served as your motivator. you just weren’t expecting to run into someone that started their day by exercising to the point that they looked like they belonged on the cover of calvin klein. it’s not one of your proudest moments.

slumping over in an attempt to conceal the pastry bag and sweet drink in your hand, you internally pray that this situation can pass quicker. save yourself from the embarrassment of it all. 

he seems to pick up on your uneasiness though because his brows raise in curiosity, “what’d you get?” 

and oh, calvin klein guy is talking to you.

“um, a latte and some breakfast pastry that the bakery sells. I go there pretty often,” you press your lips together before adding, “it’s the one right across the street. they open early.” 

you’re cringing as the words leave your lips because really– the words ‘pastry’ and ‘breakfast’ being together would never be in the male’s vocabulary. you assume that he’s judging you for your innate ability to overshare about your rather unhealthy eating habits. after all, he had just finished what you presumed was his daily workout. perhaps he’ll even dig low enough to make you feel terrible about it. educate you on the importance of having a balanced breakfast. you’ve been on enough dates with ‘gym bros’ to acknowledge that it’s a possibility and you don’t want to hear it. 

“oh really?” he ends up responding with a natural smile and it nearly blinds you, “I didn’t know! I might hafta check it out then. it looks really good!” 

“their strawberry cream cheese breakfast pastry is one of my favorites.” 

the suggestion tumbles out before you can think better of it but his smile only seems to brighten as he says in finality, “I’ll try that one then.” 

then, he whips out his phone to visibly take note of the specific pastry you told him only seconds ago. and, wow, this guy might just be a top contender for the world’s best apartment crush. you watch him out of the corner of your eye, captivated by his radiate energy. he pockets his phone once again, shoots you a grin of finality, and abruptly lifts the end of his shirt to wipe the remnants of sweat on his forehead. his eyes are wide, mortification expressed in his hurried actions and it takes some self-restraint to not giggle at his endearing expressions. 

“sorry I’m all gross, jus’ got done working out,” he explains like it wasn’t obvious, “promise I’m not normally this sweaty all the time.” 

you’re instantly drawn to him. he’s all sharp features but soft intentions. a phenomenon that you wish to unravel if he’d allow you to. he lets out a sheepish laugh, the melodic sound cutting through the awkward elevator silence, and you’re giggling in earnest soon after. 

“it wouldn’t be so bad if you were, though.”

you bite your lip. the statement is a tiny bit bolder than you were expecting but his bashful expression says it all. he’s keen on the attention. his brows raise in mild surprise but the tips of his ears tinge red. not one to actively go searching for it but finds pleasure in it if you’re willing to hand it out. 

the elevator dings and the doors slowly open to reveal your apartment floor’s hallway as he scrambles for words. though, you know you’ve made quite the impression when he follows behind your retreating figure. a flicker of warmth laps up at you, a sort of satisfaction sizzling within you at how he’s actively pursuing you and for the first time in a while you’re grateful for the good change in fortune. 

“well would you look at that,” the blushy haired male’s voice rings just as you move to unlock the door to your apartment, “we’re neighbors!” 

and your mouth drops. 

he’s your neighbor. the same one that’s been repeatedly keeping you awake during the night by dialing up the volume on every show he’s watching. or how you can audibly hear the thuds as he leaps around while playing some ear-splitting video game. or how, vaguely, you overhear the hissed scolding of another male’s voice from the opposite side of the wall that separates the two of you. it’s all been the calvin klein guy– not some heartbroken girl that’s stuck chasing after her crazy college years. 

“whatta crazy coincidence!” he adds, breaking your dawning realization, and grins as he sticks his own key into his apartment and turns it. 

but you find your voice before he can stroll through his entryway. you know that you should just say something and get it over with. voice your frustrations of ending up with the misfortune of having a rather boisterous next-door neighbor while you strived to achieve the most stress-free life. the desire to have a fresh start was unattainable at this rate. give him a piece of your mind for further ruining your– already– messed up sleep schedule. 

“wait! um,” you clear your throat and try to quell the anger that grabs hold of you, “the walls are super thin and I can hear whenever you’re blasting your music or watching tv, ya know. could you try to keep it down, please?” 

and why is your voice dying down at the end of it? the heated exchange you’ve been reciting in your mind is reduced to a polite inquiry. a sort of ‘hey it’d be really nice if you could do this for my well-being but it’s alright if you can’t!’ type of barter. inwardly, you kick at yourself because the whole point of this is to give your neighbor a piece of the irritation you experience daily. yet, you bite your lip when he gives you that sweeping glance of his that makes you weak. the one where his gaze lingers on you with a curiosity that begs at him to be sedated. his widened eyes sparkle, a shade of honey that reminds you of butterscotch candy, as he understands your displeasure. 

“ah, I’m super sorry ‘bout that! I wasn’t sure how soundproof my room was since I just moved in and the loud music kinda helps me focus. but I’ll try to be quieter,” the apology rushes out of him as he tilts his head to the side, “hope you didn’t lose any sleep ‘cause of me. it’d kill me if that happened.” 

this isn’t going in the direction you thought it would’ve. at most, you expected to perhaps throw some hands or at least anticipated an angry dispute to erupt based on your confrontation. yet, the blushy haired male treats this like it’s a mere misunderstanding that he’ll resolve if you just give him the word. he’ll listen. just tell him what to do and he’ll do it without any qualms. you’re left starstruck, lips agape, and utterly embarrassed by this whole ordeal. here you were attempting to make the most out of some noise when all he was doing was naively enjoying his free time. he stands unmovingly, attempting to decipher the endless range of emotions that you display throughout the whole ordeal. you feel the heat creeping up onto your neck, desperate to immediately flee from the situation, and push open the door to your apartment. 

“no, no, no, I sleep fine. just,”  you call out behind your shoulder and abruptly shut the door behind you, “try not to do it again, thanks!” 

— 

“oh!”

you were expecting the sight of bright eyes and blushy hair, with an instinctual grin that lifts like he’s looking forward to seeing you. what you weren’t anticipating, however, is the tuft of coal black hair and passive expression that greets you in the entryway of yuuji’s apartment. the stranger gives you a once over, not inappropriate by any means, but more along the lines of legitimate curiosity for your sudden visit. 

“sorry, I thought,” you pause to recheck the apartment again and stutter through your justification, “I must’ve had the wrong apartment. I thought someone else lived here.” 

he’s quiet at first, seemingly trying to gather the words he wishes to say before he can think better of it, “is it a guy that’s obnoxiously loud?” 

“um–”

“with pink hair?” 

“yes, exactly!” 

your eyes light up at your neighbor’s description, the image of him basically ingrained into your mind. with his considerate eyes and kind demeanor despite your one-sided bitterness towards the person that disturbed your peace. your encounter with the blushy haired male has been occupying your thoughts for the last couple of days so it’s no wonder you decided to show up and apologize. equipped with a box of takeout and a meek smile, this proved to be your attempt at atoning for your previous run in with him.

the pure delight in your voice causes the dark haired male to be taken aback. he doesn’t recently recall yuuji gushing about meeting some girl. rather, megumi wasn’t expecting him to withhold such information since he had the tendency to overshare about everything. the latest restaurants opening up, upcoming movies, or newly released comics– the blushy haired male was continuously spouting about it. but yuuji had that magnetism about him that attracted anyone and everyone. so who was he to infer the relationship between the two of you? it wasn’t his business. he knows someone that might’ve wished to know, though. 

it’s a bit awkward due to the silence that follows as you shift on your feet. it was a bit difficult to read the man in front of you. the contrast between him and his blushy haired friend was too great. his neutral expression gave you almost nothing to consider and you felt the nervousness creep up on you. this rendezvous proved to be more than you anticipated. heat trickles behind your neck as megumi pulls out his phone to type a quick text before pocketing it again and stepping aside. 

“you can wait inside,” he says with finality while angling his slim body so you can pass through the entryway, “he’ll be here soon. he’s just running some errands.” 

“thank you!” 

and the apartment is a lot cleaner than you imagined. there’s a couple of misplaced hoodies and comic books that are left out on the living room table but it’s fitting. then again, it’d been a while since you were invited into a guy’s place. especially one that occupies your mind so frequently.

before you can chicken out, you gesture to the bags in your hands, “oh! I brought over some food, by the way. a peace offering of some sort.” 

megumi’s dark eyes flick over to the contents in the bag and realize just how much you’ve been carrying this entire time. plastic containers are filled to the brim with an assortment of perfectly placed sushi. it looks delicious but the sheer amount would almost be comical if megumi wasn’t aware of how much his friend could consume. the bags’ handles you’re gripping onto are thoroughly stretched, as though the weight of the food was unexpectedly dense and he doesn’t bother masking how his eyes widen. you brought a lot. 

“you can help yourself too! I wasn’t sure if he was allergic to anything so I got a bunch. maybe too much,” your voice lowers during your rambling to hide your embarrassment. 

“thanks.”

it’s a seemingly simple word of gratitude yet it’s genuine. you note that his voice has considerably softened since he first spoke to you. like his tone is soothed from its typical bluntness and he’s putting in an effort to be considerate. he strikes you as the type to believe actions rather than words. it’s intriguing. he’s put a comfortable amount of distance between the two of you but now he strides towards you and despite your protests, he moves to take the bags from your grasp to place them on the counter in order to ease the burden. somewhere along the way introductions are shared and the two of you take part in lighthearted conversation. it’s initially clumsy with your habit of oversharing and megumi’s short responses but soon you both find a delicate balance that feels nice. 

it’s a start. 

and it’s the scene that yuuji doesn’t have the chance to see as he stumbles through the door of his apartment. he heaves, clearly a sign that he rushed here, and haphazardly closes the door with the back of his heel as he strolls in. he’s all swift energy and hectic movement– exactly like he always is. 

“brought in the newspaper! if you even wanna read that junk later,” he distractedly calls out while placing a grocery bag onto the counter and vaguely catches a glimpse of the food you brought, “wow look at all this food! I thought you didn’t get paid until the end of the week, fushiguro–”

“did you even read my text, idiot?” 

“what! you met my neighbor? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 

yuuji, now coming out of his room, has his phone clutched in his hand and he quickly unlocks it. a gasp leaves his lips once he reads his friend’s message. the way his eyes speedily trek along the screen is laughable and it causes megumi to click his tongue in annoyance. then, yuuji peers over at megumi to give him overly exaggerated, gaping eyes and a pout. it’s quite the spectacle, really. megumi’s already used to this, however, and he continues to relax on the living room couch. 

the dark haired male presses an exasperated hand against his face and mutters, “what’s the point of having a phone if you just forget it half the time.”

“so,” yuuji carries the conversation and prompts his friend to go on, “what did she say? did she ask about me? why’d she leave so quickly? don’t tell me you scared her off, fushiguro!” 

there’s a plate of unfinished sushi in front of megumi and he pokes at it as he ponders about his friend’s sudden interest in your departure. it’s unprecedented, new– how yuuji’s gaze immediately flicks over to the door like he’s debating on if he should see you. pay you a short visit. tell you how grateful he is that you visited and he’s sorry that he wasn’t home to greet you. he was so easy to read. 

“she said that she’s sorry for blowing up on you that one time,” megumi recalls as he brings a slab of ginger to his mouth, “said the food was to apologize.” 

“aw man, that was totally my fault though!” 

“I know but still, you should eat the food before it goes bad. she did bring it for you after all.” 

humming in agreement, yuuji grabs a pair of chopsticks, chooses a variety of different sushi pieces, and makes himself a plate. he takes a seat beside megumi, a tendency that was bound to be a custom at this point. the duo had a history of crashing at each other’s place ever since they were younger. it was an attempt to bring a sense of normalcy in their hectic lives. they engage in the usual small talk; with yuuji expressing his utter delight every time he shoves a piece of sushi in his mouth and megumi responding with stoic comments. all is well. though, the dark haired male perceives that there’s something off. there’s a light furrow in yuuji’s brow, an indication that he’s troubled and ruminating. 

so by the time yuuji’s done eating, megumi addresses the other male’s concerns with a terse frown, “well? are you going to see her or are you just gonna sit here wallowing in your own self-pity?” 

-

“jus’ noticed that I never got your name!” 

your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. not once were you expecting your neighbor to be at your door at eventide– especially since you were just at his place earlier in the day. in fact, you had rubbed off all the extra makeup and glitz after you finished delivering the takeout to megumi. he seemed trustworthy enough to relay your message so you didn’t think your neighbor would amble over to speak with you, much less with a pretty bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

he grins, anticipating your shock, and adds, “asked around the apartment complex for your name ‘cuz I wanted to write you a card but everyone just looked at me like I was crazy! like, I didn’t have much to go off of except what you look like!” 

and you consider the possibility that he looks even better in casual clothes. maybe it’s the way every article of clothing he owns fits him perfectly; broad and muscular shoulders tapering inward to emphasize his narrow waist. or, it’s a long stretch, but perhaps you’re just hyper vigilant of him whenever he’s close. wearing a plain shirt tucked into loose pants, he’s as breathtaking as you remember and you do your best to calm the wave of butterflies in your stomach. 

you instinctively bring a hand to cover your bareface as you give him your name. a smile tugs at his lips. shifting the bouquet of flowers underneath one arm, he pulls out a tiny, decorated card and a pen from his pocket. he rhetorically says your name, lets it marinate on his tongue, while writing it and slipping the card in the center of the bouquet. 

“awesome. this is for you,” he hands you the flowers before bashfully rubbing the back of his neck, “fushiguro told me you stopped by earlier and dropped off all that food. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there to see but thank you, really.” 

you press your lips together, aware that this is your chance to right your wrongs and stumble on your words, “oh! you didn’t need to. I was rude and complaining about something small so I just wanted to do that for you–” 

“and,” he meets your eyes as he confesses, “I wanted to see you again.”

his words go straight through your heart. distinctly, you feel the gentle caress of his long fingers against the back of your hand as he slips the bouquet into your arms and his touch is dizzying. you might just melt. liquify into a pile of mush due to his sweet actions. doesn’t help that he’s gazing at you like you string up each individual star in the times of twilight. his eyes roam the entirety of your face. memorizing every pretty freckle and curve now since he’s close. 

“guess it also helps that my neighbor is really pretty,” he whispers, like the compliment is punched out of him and laid out for you to delve in. 

from there on, his focus drops to the pink of your lips. then to the glimmer of your skin that peeks beneath your homey clothes. almost outwardly sighs at the sight before him. like he wants you–thoughtlessly, selfishly, and desperately. the only way he knows how to show he cares. lodges himself deep within the depths of your soul. lets himself in due to his benevolence and warmth. 

then, he pulls away and blinks himself out of the stupor that was induced by you. there’s a sheepish smile on his face like he’s aware he’d been caught. a dust of red splattering on the tips of his ears. but to which he was at fault for; staring too intently or letting his blossoming feelings show– who really knows? 

yuuji steps back to take his leave before it can get too dark out, “glad we both got what we wanted at the end. I'll see ya later!” 

and with that, he waves you a farewell while you’re gripping onto the bouquet of flowers he gifted you. you’re a hot, flustered mess from your encounter with your neighbor. heart racing and thrumming against your chest. but you guess your apology successfully worked. your next step is to find a nice vase. and as you mosey through your apartment with a little extra bounce in your step, you trim the stems and set the flowers to be displayed in your living room. it’s been a while since a man has ever given you flowers. it’s nice. brightens the place up. a huff of content passes your lips. and yes, you do manage to get his name because tucked at the bottom of the card is his full name– followed by a small, scrawled heart. 

-

the next couple days roll into weeks of giddy, mushy happiness that’s unparalleled to anything you’ve ever experienced. he makes an effort to see you almost every other day. stands in front of your door with a bright grin plastered on his face while the both of you catch up. and you share a little bit of your life and schedule so he’s informed on the most convenient time you’ll be home. and it stuns you that yuuji’s naturally this warmhearted. he’s characteristically a provider and giver. finds reason in being the one that lets you have peace of mind. he signs off on your packages when you’re not home, carries your heavy groceries if the elevators are broken, and keeps you company during your midnight snack runs. always inquisitive of your feelings and thoughts. and it’s not just you that he treats kindly (and sure what he does for you borders the invisible line of being more than neighbors). but he’s just inherently courteous. he helps stray animals cross the busy intersection in front of the apartment, moves the massive potted plants for the elderly tenants, and even goes out of his way to greet every individual person in the mornings. yuuji is too good to be true. 

so it’s no wonder you overhear him conversing with a girl. 

it was completely unintentional– initially. you were in the process of slipping on your shoes to go on your usual bakery run. the typical sweet treat that kept you motivated and energized for the rest of the week. that is, until an overly raucous giggle startles you. you freeze at the unusual noise. it’s feminine. not the usual scoff and chuckle you typically overhear from megumi when he visits. the walls are so thin, courtesy of the rent being low, hence catching onto your neighbors’ conversations was pretty easy. so who’s laughing that loud in the early morning and why was it coming from yuuji’s side of the wall? 

checking wasn’t necessarily a crime. and you know it’s wrong but your logic is swayed when yuuji’s own laughter follows. your eye twitches. the sound was bittersweet now. your hands tighten into fists as your breathing quickens and you realize that having the freedom of becoming attached to someone comes with some risks. 

letting your feet lead you closer, you’re perched next to the wall connecting your apartment with his and you hesitantly press your ear against the painted surface. 

“where to, miss?” 

that’s yuuji’s voice. you recognize it from anywhere because it’s perfect– honeyed and sincere– or at least, that’s what you were bewitched with. it wasn’t the exact emotion you conjured up now though. you stood there, dazed beyond comprehension. confused about the relationship you shared with him. you assumed it was mutual; well, a fondness that came in the form of watching him tip his head back in laughter as you artlessly sing your favorite song to him. or how, when the two of you lounge on your couch, you’re both sharing hopes about the future until the sun rises. most importantly, you were hurt. utterly devastated by the accidental secret you’ve uncovered. did it mean nothing to him? you feel your throat close up. can feel the beginnings of frustration arise and your hand moves to clutch at your heart. you needed an explanation; a clarification for the way he’s been treating you. you didn’t want your one chance of happiness to vanish. 

storming to his door, you give it a firm knock before impatiently shifting on your feet, “it’s me.”

you don’t expect him to answer, to be fair. he could choose to ignore your knock, shrug it off and give the run-of-the-mill excuse to the girl he was seeing. or there’d be a beat of silence as he desperately shoves the girl out of sight before he answers the door like those cliche rom-coms that boast high praise due to the drama. and a part of you knows that yuuji’s not like that– he’s sweet, charming, and undeniably considerate– but you don’t know what to believe. you’re a hot mess that’s destined to explode. 

so it catches you off-guard when the door immediately swings open. 

you stand steadfast, however, “yuuji, we need to talk–”

but the outburst dies on your lips. you’re gaping at the sight that you’re greeted with. megumi’s the one that opens the door for you. his dark eyes flick over to you once and he pulls the door back further to reveal where the commotion was coming from. almost like he understands why you’ve shown up. then, he clasps his hands over his ears to block out the deafening volume of the television and yuuji’s incessant reciting.

there’s a sneer plastered on megumi’s face as he turns to the pink-haired male, “I told you to knock it off before she got the wrong idea.” 

and at the mention of ‘she,’ yuuji freezes. he’s perched atop their rickety couch, teetering on the edge, and holding the end of a hairbrush to his mouth like it’s a microphone. there’s no other girl. he’s not flirting with anyone. the television’s on, playing an iconic movie scene as he passionately narrates the actor’s lines in time with the script. it’s entertaining. amusing. and under different circumstances you’d fall into a fit of laughter but once he meets your eyes, yuuji pauses. 

“crap,” he drops the hairbrush and hastily scrambles to the remote to flick the television off, “‘m sorry was I being too loud–” 

yuuji rushes to greet you. his feet steadily thump against the wooden floors as he hastens his steps. his subconscious leads him to you, always. like he can’t help but come to you despite everything. there’s an abashed grin on his face and the tips are his ears are tinged red from being caught. yet, he’s clearly delighted to see you at his door. 

and the guilt automatically hits you. 

“n-no! I mean, uh,” you focus your attention to the floor as you shake your head, “that’s not why I came here. I thought– oh my gosh– I feel horrible now.” 

tilting his head in confusion, yuuji patiently waits through your sputtering in an attempt to understand what you’re saying. you’re distraught. seeking a sound enough reason on your sudden arrival. you’re flustered, tongue-tied, because now that you’ve seen what you heard earlier, it all makes perfect sense. your ability to jump to conclusions was astounding and the bane of your existence. heat radiates from your cheeks as you clam up. 

there’s a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll be taking my leave now. I don’t feel like third-wheeling today,” megumi explains while stepping past you, “counting on you two to work it out.” 

before the dark haired male leaves he lifts his hand to good-naturedly pat your head. it’s foreign and as if he realizes this, megumi simply shrugs. then, he murmurs his own blunt, twisted encouragement and leaves the both of you alone. 

it’s silent. 

but then yuuji gently leads you inside his apartment. hums that it’ll be better to talk with no interruptions. you let him guide you into the place that you frequent rather often recently, welcoming the press of his fingers against your waist and how his touch instantly brings warmth. he sits you in the middle of the couch, chuckling when you inadvertently sink into the cushions. but he abruptly stops once he detects your regretful expression. the way the corners of your lips are downturned and how you refuse to look at him. an arrow pierces at his heart. 

leaning to place his hands on your shoulders, he carefully mentions, “you wanted to talk?” 

he keeps his voice light, mindful and it’s his gentleness that breaks you. his bright eyes are trained on your face to decipher what’s been bothering you. doesn’t like seeing you so distressed. he’s already grasping for a solution without even knowing the problem. he’s so good to you. 

and when his thumb soothingly caresses against the side of your neck, you wring your hands as you try to explain, “I know I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping but I overheard you speaking to someone. a girl. so I thought–”

you break off to press your lips together in embarrassment. there’s a flash of realization on his sharp features, like he finally acknowledges the misunderstanding. the issue that’s driven you to the point of showing up to his door and staring up at him with wistful eyes. causing his will to break into pieces that you’re destined to pick up and glue back together. then, before you can blink, he’s dropping to his knees and grasping onto your hands. his knitted brows relax as he exhales your name in hushed relief. and it’s a sight of pure reverence. reassurance to the very aspect of your being. you’ve appeased his worries so he’ll make it right; it’s a promise. 

“that was all my fault, I was being stupid and messing around. I’m sorry for making you worried,” yuuji clarifies in a single breath, “I want you to know one thing, though.” 

bringing your hand to his lips, he presses a tender kiss in the space between your knuckles and looks up at you, “I’m serious about this– about you.” 

the octave in his voice drops at the end of his confession, bordering a hoarse whisper meant only for you. a rawness to his sudden seriousness. a reason for his countless efforts. and there’s only so much he’s allowed you to be aware of with his growing feelings. like how he thinks of you right as the sun rises. right when the brilliant hues are flourishing as the day begins to take over. or how he imagines you as the love interest in every romance movie. or how the days become brighter when you’re around. you bring significance into his life.

and he admits that he’s new to these all-consuming feelings. his mind morphs into oblivion and his mouth turns into the equivalent of fuzz. simply due to your sweet smile. it takes all his willpower not to reach out for you when you’re near. his fingers tremble in need to hold and cherish you. he’s utterly whipped. so one thing is for certain– when he thinks of you, there’s a lightness that engulfs his world.

“yuu.”

yuuji’s broken out of his trance when you sweep a gentle hand through his blushy hair. the sentiment is unmistakable now. his act of kneeling in front of you proves his resolve and sincerity. uttering his name is the closest aspect of him being yours. your sweet neighbor. he lets out a content hum and your glossy lips curve into a smile at his reaction. forever fascinated by his undying need to adore you. he sees his whole world beaming back at him. and in that moment, yuuji was convinced that his sole purpose was to bring you happiness. this was the prospect of his adoration. a regard to his devotion towards you. pretty eyes half-lidded, he peers up at you and knowingly tilts his head.

“wanna go get that breakfast pastry you always get at the bakery? 'm pretty sure it was the strawberry cream cheese one,” he asks, his tone hopeful yet bashful as he adds, “you could think of it as a date.” 

[ween-kitchens]

can't remember if I ever posted this to tumblr so have a silly little snippet from an au me and stiff came up with!

the premise is that every hermit is some kind of hybrid, but is worried about sharing this fact because they all think they're the only hybrid on hermitcraft. empires on the other hand immediately clocks them all as hybrids and assumes the fact they’re hiding it is some kind of lore

jimmy can’t help grinning as scar tries to get him to ‘accept himself’ for the fifth time this afternoon. man, these hermitcraft people are fantastic at sticking to the bit—jimmy knows he would have cracked up way before now if it was him.

“you gotta accept it as part of you!” scar is practically begging him as jimmy leads him to the tavern. “you’ll never get anywhere if you’re left hating something like that about you, tim!”

jimmy turns to look at him. he keeps throwing his hat in the air and catching it again—that’s allay behaviour if he’s ever seen it.

“scar,” jimmy says, dropping the ‘oh no i’m so tormented’ act for a moment. “you do know i’m not actually a toy, don’t you?”

scar blinks at him. “you- no, you are. aren’t you?”

“no!” jimmy laughs at the look on scar’s face. “i’m a cow, scar, have you seen me?”

“wait- but what’s all that about then!” scar exclaims, gesturing in the direction of stratos. “with the ‘little toy man’ and- and the revealing potion!”

“oh that’s just for fun!” jimmy grins. “none of it’s true: the ‘revealing potion’ just makes you short, and joel knows i’m not a toy.”

“gosh, you empires people are odd.” scar says. “why do something that’s not true?”

“well, first of all, it’s funny.” jimmy says. “and second of all, it makes for a cool story! you being human isn’t real, but it-“

“not human?” scar interrupts, looking nervous all of a sudden. “i don’t- I have no clue what you mean! ‘not human’,” scar laughs to himself, unconvincingly offhand. “ah, you never fail to amuse me, jimmy.”

jimmy blinks at him. “is that- do you guys-“ 

and something clicks. the shiftiness of tango, the wide-eyed gazes at their hybrid features that all the hermitcraftians had enacted, almost like-

almost like they didn’t know they were all hybrids.

jimmy suppresses a laugh. wow, okay. now that’s a story.

“scar, I know you’re an allay.” jimmy says. “or a vex? somewhere in between?”

“somewhere in between.” scar clarifies. “how- how did you know?”

“I hate to tell you, but you’re not very subtle about it.” jimmy grins. oh gosh, he’s going to have to tell everyone when he has the time. no wonder all the hermits looked so surprised to see them.

“not subt- how am I not subtle?” scar asks. “I do everything humans do!”

“you’re counting your fellow hermits as humans?” jimmy asks.

“well of course.” scar says. ah, that’s where he’s gone wrong, jimmy thinks. “sure, we’re all a little weird over there, but i’m the only hybrid. and no one has noticed yet, so i think i’m doing quite well actually.”

“must be ‘cause i’m used to hybrids then.” jimmy settles on, because whilst he doesn’t want to reveal the secrets of.. pretty much everyone except the guy in the doom outfit, he also really wants to see how this plays out.

“oh yes.” scar agrees quickly. “must be that.”

“now, I do believe I was showing you the saloon!” jimmy says, putting on his silly accent for the last word, and scar seems to register that he’s back in character.

“yeah, the saloon!” scar exclaims, ever the enthusiast.

as scar starts to ramble about how he doesn’t think you can be classified as a cowboy unless you have your own saloon (which jimmy agrees with wholeheartedly), jimmy smiles to himself as he anticipates the reactions of his server-mates when he breaks the news. 

.. and also he might be smiling at the way scar’s face lights up as he speaks. but that’s a matter for another time.

[electricbathsalt]

Things I want to talk about/touch upon/see people mention more but cannot compile individual coherent posts about:

1. The fact Pops’ daughter apparently had a “falling out” with Pops (over her marriage??) that caused her to completely abandon the yakuza and maybe also cut contact with Pops (the dude is suspicious guys)

2. The fact that in the Overhaul-LOV initial meeting, Chisaki had to have intentionally chosen not to kill Mr. Compress.

3. The idea that many of Chisaki’s thought processes at least partially stem from his time in AFO’s facility. And of course, Pops.

4. How much Chisaki seems to lack a proper reaction to any sort of pain (He was beat to a pulp by Mirio & Midoriya, exploded himself, & got his arms cut off and I’ve never heard him so much as yelp) while still complaining about how overhauling himself hurts?? Yet he doesn’t show it.

5. (Highway scene) How Chisaki only screamed once the realization he wouldn’t be able to ever wake up Pops sunk in (isn’t confirmed but. I’m convinced).

6. The fact that there’s absolutely no way Chisaki wasn’t negatively impacted by being raised in the Yakuza. It’s simply inherent.

7. The blatant disregard Pops had to have had for both Chisaki and Eri’s well-beings to have designated Chisaki as her caretaker.

8. The endless amounts of potential for Chisaki & Dabi/Touya dynamics post-war, platonic or otherwise. (Multiple fics with this premise in my WIPs, lol)

9. The fact Chisaki seems practically incapable of holding a grudge. Like, think about it; is there a character you can say Chisaki genuinely, wholeheartedly hates and wishes the worst upon. You know what—what IS his opinion on Shigaraki/the LOV these days??

10. Realizing that in the initial Overhaul-LOV meeting, Chisaki literally just tone-matched them. Look:

Mr Compress says all that, and then Chisaki later explains:

Which, once you break down what Mr Compress said/how he said it, and what Chisaki said/how he said it… blunt statement of facts. Mr Compress told Toga how faded out the Yakuza have become with no sugarcoating, and Chisaki took that and said. “Well. Yeah.” But then when Chisaki did the same thing (blunt but true & valid criticisms of the LOV/Shigaraki’s leading skills (bc let’s be real, he was an ass leader at the time in terms of actual planning and execution)), the LOV got pissed. He pointed out all the relevant flaws and mistakes in Shigaraki’s leadership and then said it’d be better if he was the leader because he actually has a plan, and they got pissed at the mere prospect of serving under somebody else. Do you realize how much the story would’ve been altered if the LOV didn’t decide to just start attacking Chisaki here?? 💀 Sorry I’m exceptionally passionate about this bc the fandom gaslit me for a while into believing Chisaki was the one starting shit here 😔 but then I read it (a long time after I'd watched it in the anime) and was like. "what. he didn't initiate literally any of this shit. and everything he's saying is true??"

There’s probably more I could add to this but it’s getting long enough lol.

[signanothername]

Honestly that's so good.... But also it's likely Dream now feels a lot more alone as well, because he's, like, literally the last of his kind (since he's an energy being, not normal monster), and with all of his (well, not exactly but yk) biological family gone, it must feel really weird. To be the last survivor is always a weird feeling

Oh abso-fucking-lutely!

I wholeheartedly believe Dream would experience a lot of survivor guilt over it, and I mean, it’s so obvious Dream values family as a concept so much

Not to mention, I think we can all agree Nightmare can never die unless Dream kills him using positivity as a weapon, and the fact Dream’s the one who killed his own brother with his own hands?? Yeah a very traumatic experience

Dream had always felt lonely, yet he could still bear it a little, but now that his brother’s gone that loneliness just becomes crushing

But he still would heal, finally find his own way in life, it’ll be extremely hard with all those crushing feelings eating away at him, but the road to recovery never was a straight line, Dream would have ups and downs throughout his healing journey, but I still believe he’ll heal and grow enough around his grief to live a fulfilling life

That’s why I think Dream would want Nightmare’s possessions, it’s part of how he heals, he might’ve lost his brother, but he could at least keep Nightmare’s memory alive, even if Dream’s the only one who would truly and genuinely care about Nightmare enough to do so

I can even see Dream making a grave for Nightmare near the the tree, as a way of paying respects and showing his love for him, and he’d constantly visit and talk with his brother’s grave, fully hoping Nightmare is maybe listening, but knowing that Nightmare’s too far away to truly hear him

Anyway i’ve been holding out on saying this but Euthanasia by Will Wood is such an apple twins song guys ugh (there’s those two specific lyrics that I just associate with them so much, whether one is alive or dead doesn’t matter it just fits regardless 😭❤️🌷✨)

Part 1 (technically)

Part 2 (kinda)

Part 4

[evilwickedme]

I said I'd never do jumblr content again and yet here I am because this keeps coming up and it's like the only thing I can think about. That said I will not hesitate to turn off reblogs if y'all are horrible in the notes again, and be warned that I will be blocking anybody who supports any of the theories I mention immediately

There is no such thing as a conspiracy theory that isn't antisemitic. There is no such animal

Antisemitic conspiracy theories go back thousands of years. The ones that still have the most hold on culture to this day are the blood libel, and the protocols of the elders of zion

The blood libel was an accusation that would be brought against Jewish populations in Europe often but especially around Passover claiming that we were killing Christian children for ritual purposes, usually to use their blood for baking matza or other nonsense (it is important to me that you know that this is nonsense. It is horrible and damaging but also to the core a ridiculous lie that never at any point made any sense. They just didn't care). Debatably this trope is present in the merchant of Venice. Undebatably Jews were killed because people did and still do sincerely believe this

The protocols of the elders of zion is a fictitious document published in Russia at the very beginning of the 20th century, supposedly detailing the meetings of the Jewish people who secretly run the world. The protocols were almost immediately proven to be a rip off of another document - ah, plagiarism - but that hasn't stopped antisemites from embracing it wholeheartedly (special thanks fuck you to Henry Ford for publishing them in his newspaper, spreading it across the USA). It built on previous antisemitic tropes, from the greedy banker trope (Jews were forced to be money lenders in medieval Europe as it was forbidden in Christianity and Jews weren't allowed to join any guilds, preventing them from making money in any other capacity - the reason why there are so many Jews in Hollywood is identical, but in the early 20th century) to the concept of dual loyalty (i.e. Jewish are loyal to ourselves above all else and cannot be trusted to be loyal to the country where we live, see: modern trope that every Jew is probably loyal to Israel and the subsequent idea that it's okay to ask every single diaspora Jew how they feel about Israel immediately upon meeting them). It's also worth noting that the word cabal, used to denote the shadowy organizations that supposedly control the world, comes from kabbala, which is Jewish mysticism

The idea of lizard people, created by a guy literally named Icke because he is a gross human being, was designed to repackage the antisemitic shadow cabal concept to be supposedly more palatable

Most qanon theories also build on all of this, such as world leaders preying on children (remember pizzagate?)

But more importantly conspiratorial thinking always positions you as the good guy standing against a mysterious "them", an other which is influencing things behind the scenes. The Jew is the ultimate other, and specifically an other that supposedly forms a shadowy world government, controlling everything and yet somehow not managing to get rid of antisemitism (see: protocols of Zion, lizard people, we control Hollywood and the government which is of course conspiring against you). There is no way to decouple the idea of an evil shadowy organization (usually also referred to as a cabal to really hammer it in) from antisemitism and antisemitic tropes

And this means that even supposedly "harmless" conspiracy theories attract antisemites and train people who aren't necessarily rabid antisemites to confirm those kinds of biases. Obviously Qanon and lizard people are antisemitic, but what does the moon landing have to do with Jews? Well, it was Hollywood and the government that faked it, obviously. Hell, even the conspiracy that Taylor Swift is secretly a lesbian and is either still secretly dating or is exes with Karlie Kloss is riddled with antisemitism -

Okay so I need to explain my position on this because I fucking hate this conspiracy theory, and the fact that most people simply won't acknowledge that that's what it is. Firstly, Taylor Swift has stated that she is not gay or considers herself an ally at least three times off the top of my head, and specifically denied that she was dating Karlie Kloss. Secondly, outing people is wrong. Thirdly, the conspiracy theory hinges on the idea that she would be risking her career by coming out, except that she's proven that basically no controversy can come in the way of her career, she's already "come out" as an ally, donated to glaad and the equality act, promoted queer musicians & artists & designers (there was a song in the reputation tour that was dedicated to a gay designer every single night of the tour). So what's stopping her from coming out at this point? Mysterious forces, clearly. The antisemitism in that I've already explained, but also the virulent antisemitism among Kaylor shippers aimed at her husband and at the fact that she converted to Judaism is fucking disgusting

Again: even a supposedly harmless conspiracy theory leads to antisemitism and attracts antisemites

A few years ago I tried to rewatch white collar cause I remembered really enjoying that show as a preteen and after around a season I just couldn't stand it anymore, because all I wanted to do was jump into the universe and yell at Mozzie to shut the fuck up because these conspiracy theories were barely presented as a joke and never challenged even once by any of the characters. When I rewatched that 70s show it also fucking sucked, but at least it wasn't showing up in every single episode. The blacklist focuses entirely on a literal Cabal, that's what they're called

This stuff is so normalized and it's fucking everywhere and it's exhausting. Jews are to this day being murdered over this. I can't change the world by myself, unfortunately, but if you don't have a specific person to blame for your troubles, shut the fuck up. Just shut up. There is no conspiracy against you. Sometimes life just sucks. Or definitely does for the Jews who get shot at over this shit

Again, I'll be blocking anybody who parrots this bullshit in the comments but especially fucking gaylors y'all are one of the main reasons that being a fan of Taylor Swift's music is fucking unbearable. Just accept you can connect to music made by somebody different than yourself it's not that difficult of a concept

[weirdmorefics]

benedict with a younger sister who he catches at one of the parties he goes to talking to a man who has less than innocent intentions with her and she’s oblivious and just thought it would be a fun place to drink bcs that’s what she’d heard when was out at the park earlier that day

A/N- Sorry for it taking a while I really am starting to believe in the fanfiction curse. I also made up the seedy guy who had unhonorable intentions in this story just an FYI.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

TW- Sexism

Word Count- 1,653

Summary- Benedict goes to a local gathering of artists and happens to find his darling younger sister enjoying the company of some of Benedict's unsavory friends.

Unhonorable Intentions

I am a rake. I take no shame in this fact. I am allowed to be a free spirit it is my birthright as the second-born son. No obligations no responsibility. I would loathe to be in Anthony's shoes. Though Y/n seems to have made it her mission for me to walk in his shoes tonight. What is she even doing in a place like this? Last I knew she preferred literature over the arts. Yet she hangs on a man's arm as he explains his next work. in progress that he is sure will be his Magnus opus. I glare at them hopefully sister notices my gaze burning into her side so I can continue my night as if nothing happened. However, when I glare at them I realize who the man she is talking to is and now I know there is no way I can continue my night. Unfortunately said man felt my gaze instead of Y/n and smiled and pulled her forcefully along with him.

"Bridgerton! It's grand to see you! We've missed you at the club!" Alexander shakes my hand roughly and I return it with an insincere smile. "Saw you eyeing my new muse, I regret to inform you I don't share." God, I want to gag as I know what he does with his so-called muses. Y/n smiles at being called his muse she does love it when I draw her but this man does not have honorable intentions. He and I have very different definitions of what a muse is. My idea of a muse is someone who inspires you to create, Alexander's idea of a muse is a woman to sleep with and then abandon.

I straighten back to assert my taller posture over the man, "And I regret to inform you your so-called muse is my darling baby sister." I look down at her with demanding eyes, "I do say it is time we get back to Mother. Isn't Y/n?"

She looks taken aback by my tone, "What do you mean? I just got here."

Alexanders' grin increases tenfold, "A Bridgeton! Benedict I had no idea you were hiding such a beauty to yourself! If I was her brother I'd never let her out of the house either." This man is truly revolting the artist community here is unfortunately very small and I have to find a way to remain civil.

Y/n smiles, "So you know Alexander? That's too bad really I was hoping to learn some different art techniques from him to impart to you! I had no idea you knew such a famous artist!"

I grit my teeth, "Famous now Alexander are we?"

This flusters him for a moment but he recovers quickly, "Aren't all artists famous in a different sort of way?"

I want to laugh at such an absurd response… sadly Y/n is far too naive for her own good.

"I agree wholeheartedly! Benedict is the most famous artist in our family! I'm quite jealous of his talent I must admit! It makes sense he would be at such a regal event filled with so much talent. To be truthful I overheard this soiree would have fabulous drinks on this morning's promenade and couldn't resist," she gushes over my talents and breaks my heart for not being more present in my siblings' lives.

Anthony just seemed to have it all handled, Daphne was married off, Eloise could certainly hold her own ground, Francessa was so busy with her studies, and Mother had Gregory and Hycanith under control. Even though Y/n is Eloise's twin she couldn't be any more different she believes the best in everyone and is too quick to forgive in my opinion and Alexander is taking advantage of that and I will not let that stand.

I smile down at Y/n, "Y/n you downplay your own talents no need to associate with a man whose talents consist of preying on women through false pretenses."

Her eyes widen to the size of quarters, "Benedict you can not make such outrageous claims!"

I pretend to not know exactly what she is talking about, "You mean your talents? Your poetry talent is outrageous and that's not a claim it's just a fact."

She blushes at the compliment but for some asinine reason still wants to defend Alexander. Though it seemed her brain could not keep up with the unusual compliment from me and the unflattering words I spoke about Alexander she just stuttered unintelligible anger, shock, and joy all marking her face. Alexander on the other hand was just fuming red.

"First you insult me Bridgerton then you demean poetry as a genre by encouraging a woman to write it." he snarls.

I have never seen Y/n turn so quickly and before anyone in the room knows what's happening a resounding slap is heard over all the chatter and everyone turns to the noise. Alexander's eye is twitching and a red welt in the shape of my sister's hand is forming on his face. He glares at her with murderous eyes but she holds her head high I have never seen her this determined and it makes me wonder what else I missed while she was growing up and I was galavanting around with men like Alexander.

She points an angry finger at him like Mother would when she would scold us, "Gentleman like yourself actually I wouldn't even call men like you gentleman but that's beside the point. Men like you say women are too emotional to do anything but care for the home. Poetry is all about emotion it's supposed to make you feel something like the art you make, or apparently don't make from what I just learned from Benedict's side comment. I would also like to remind you who is in charge of our country or rather what sex they are?"

All eyes are on us and Alexander looks like he might strangle Y/n with his two hands if the vein bulging out of his forehead is any indicator.

"Oh and by the way when I complimented your line work on your latest piece I was lying it was shit but you know how men can be so emotional I didn't want to hurt your feelings," she fake pouted. This is definitely not the young sister I once knew she may still be naive but she has now learned to use her talent with words as a knife.

Alexander's arm shoots to roughly grab her but I am quick to block, "I'm Alexander but we must be going. It was so nice talking to you as always. I would definitely take my dear sister's words under advisement to spend more time working on your line art." I then pull him very closely into my body and if anyone hadn't seen the previous incident they would have thought it was just two chaps hugging. I whisper, "Less time with lines of ladies and coke you might find yourself able to make straight lines. And if I ever hear you laid a hand on my sister I will kill you myself." I roughly release him and he scrambles backwards ungracefully as all eyes on him.

I link arms with Y/n, "Come on we must really be going now."

Once we make it outside away from prying eyes she quickly bursts into sobs, "Gods what have I done! I was just so angry he'd judge me just based on my sex. God, what if Lady Whistledown writes about me!" She starts pacing with her hands on her forehead and this is the Y/n I am all too familiar with, " Oh God what if Mama reads it! What if I ruin the Bridgerton name? Anthony will never forgive me!"

I clap and quickly gain her attention back, "You certainly won't be the first Bridgerton featured in Lady Whistledown and I am certain you will not be the last."

"Not helping!' She shouts back.

"No one will be mad you stood your ground… in fact, I am quite proud of you."

Her eyes study me, "Are you serious? I just slapped your friend in a soiree full of your peers."

"Anthony was more of an acquaintance," I add.

She rolls her eyes, "That is not the point!"

I sigh, "Yes, I am proud. You defended your honor and didn't need my help to do so. Though I am sure any of your brothers would be there in a heartbeat to defend it including me."

She smiles, "You're proud of me."

"I am not saying it again," I state.

she starts to repeat you're proud of me in a sing-songy voice.

"My pride in you is diminishing and my worry is growing. I think I will be around more often seems like Anthony isn't keeping a watchful enough eye on you if he let you go to a seedy event like this."

She tilts her head, "But you were at the event?"

"Exactly I only attend seedy events, though it appears now I must reform. Think of me has your second Anthony," maybe having responsibilities won't be so bad if I get to see Y/n chew out more men like Alexander.

She groans, "I don't want another Anthony how will I ever do anything fun."

"That's the point Y/n," I smile.

She groans, "I hope Lady Whistledown writes you into the story and makes you sound dreadful."

"As long as she writes how daring and smart my younger sister is we will be on good terms," I smile as she groans again at her failed attempt to get under my skin.

"Thank you, I guess," she responds.

I may be late in helping my siblings but at least they all still have some more growing to do and I plan to be there for all of it.

[disinherited-dornishman]

Personal thoughts on Team Black, Rhaenyra, and Misogyny.

This is going to be a messy one as regard structure but also topic. Stay with me, people.

I've been seeing a lot of accusations of misogyny against anti-team black, anti-rhaenyras, and anti-hotd posters for criticisms uttered, and I can't help but be a little dumbfounded. Like are we really doing this? Pointing out that Rhaenyra was reckless for having 3 bastards is not misogyny. I'm sorry, as much as you guys might love your make-believe character, I'm just not humoring it. Not if you're going to make the conversation about feminism and sexual liberation.

Okay, let me just say. Rhaenyra having Jace I can understand. An experiment that was stupid but also respectable in a way, because Laenor was definitely traumatized and not fit for keeping up their agreement, so I can support that mistake wholeheartedly for the empathy behind it. But Luke and Joffrey? After finding out that her genes get overriden by Harwin's?

Plain stupid. I'm sorry, that's just playing with fire, especially since she should know how precarious her position would be after the precedent of the Great Council that robbed Rhaenys of her birthright on the basis of her gender.

And like, I'd be fine with it if the show didn't portray it as this girlboss, don't-give-a-fuck win, because all it does is highlight how ignorant the showrunners are about the world in which their show is set! I liked selfish and decadent Rhaenyra in the books, she didn't need to be treated as a hero for it.

And the fact that the rest of the world and everyone in it is portrayed as being at fault for not going along with what's basically that society's equivalent of a political clown show is absurd. Pointing this out doesn't mean I'm condoning it either, I'm criticizing the show's lack of self-awareness. It's so obvious the showrunners are disconnected from the their world.

GRRM writes all his characters as believable people grown up in a medieval society, but critiques it through his own modern moral lense in a way that's seemless, yet in this show they use characters as mouthpieces to spout modern feminist and egalitarian ideals from characters who are ruling class. Who the fuck are they kidding? If you want to make a feminist show, don't use bourgeoisie feminism!!! Idgaf about some Princess' sexual liberation while she's allowed to hold feasts that rips the food from the tables of peasants! There's nothing inspiring about that!

Rhaenyra, one of the single most bourgeois figure in the show, is supposed to be praised for her "sexual liberation" when it literally threatens the stability of the entire realm, and directly caused a war in which countless sexual atrocities were committed and will still be committed? Forgive me if I can't find it in me to be inspired.

If you want the show to be feminist, display the themes through the people at the bottom, the normal workers, the whores, the thieves, the daytalers and smiths and carpenters and undertakers and farmers, etc etc. Don't ask people to cheer for a reckless white woman from a colonizer background with a biological WMD at her disposal for breaking the social contract of a ruling class SHE'S A PART OF and risking destabilizing her entire country, it's fucking insulting! And don't get me started on the gender essentialism of the whole "women good, men bad" horseradish horseshit.

I'd love to discuss and analyze these concepts if we're talking about Rhaenyra's character arc, her as a person, and the themes of patriarchy that one can glean through her. But if we're talking actual, meaningful, proletariat feminism that means something to the medieval society they live in?

You wanna praise this brave monarch for sexually liberating herself, go ahead and praise the female Romans in Spartacus while you're at it. Praise their sexual liberation when they avail themselves of sex slaves taken from Thrace and Gaul and wherever else the Roman Empire had reach and rape them for fun. Understand I'm not comparing Rhaenyra's actions with having her kids with Harwin to rape, I'm pointing out power dynamics. And at least that show had the decency to show that the patrician romans were cruel and vile alongside their humanity, unlike HotD which seems to insist its ruling family of dragonriding depraved incestuous monarchs are actually virtuous while literally having Meleys burst through the floorboards and massacre a crowd.

P.S.: for any Anti-Rhaenyras, please don't start shit about her unless you wanna discuss how the writers fucked up her beloved character. I actually liked her in the books and she should've gotten a bigger part than Daemon, so don't slander her all willy nilly. It's unconstructive and I feel no desire to engage.

[wanderingtycho]

By far one of my favorite things about the way Disco Elysium handles politics is that Libertarianism is treated as an absolute joke. Like the game is obviously sympathetic towards communists, but there are elements of sympathy towards the moralists and fascists as well. Not sympathy in the sense of “oh can’t we all just get along, we’re all human” BS, but sympathy in the sense that you are able to understand a persons thought process that would lead them to embrace moralism or fascism. Even if that thought process is deeply flawed, and leads to horribly off kilter conclusions, going through the centrist and fash quests gives you meaningful insight into the appeal of those ideologies.

But Ultraliberalism? The game just laughs at you, repeatedly and mercilessly. As it should, you’re a cop so poor a guy you’ve known for one day has to pawn some fancy hubcaps so you can afford rent, yet all you talk about is your grindset. Your hustle, how you’re gonna disrupt the market and groove your way into the lap of luxury. It’s delusion, utter stark raving madness, and characters treat you as such.

Kim is at a loss for words whenever you crank on your libertarian spiel, Evrart calls you a retard, you have to *trick* the mega-rich light bending guy into giving you mercury mining stocks because he’s simply too perplexed by you. Joyce, last of the self identified Ultras, doesn’t take you seriously. Sileng just goes along with it the same way he goes along with any of the other nonsense you can spout, because he’s on his own hustle, and there is no loyalty among charlatans. The only character who is wholeheartedly onboard with the money engineering and the visionary wave making lifestyle is literally named IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL.

But you see, all these things are just incidental, where the game makes it most potent jab at libertarians is when the vision quest stops. Notice I said *stop* not *end*. The communist quest line ends with a Rhetoric check in order to ask The Most Important Question about Communism. The fascist quest has you look yourself in the eye with an Endurance check to see if you can stomach the truth about yourself and your Vöws. The moralist quest ends with a heart wrenching Empathy check as you beg the iron grey and soulless enforcers of the status quo to please god help this district before war breaks out in the streets. There’s real personal stakes for Harry in all these disparate paths he can walk, what does Ultraliberalism get?

You and Kim look at a statue covered in tinsel and disco balls, Kim asks you why you went through with all this, and no matter what response you pick he’s like “Right, yeah, okay. Anyway, let’s finish the case.”

That’s it, no grand moment of pathos, no red Savoir Faire skill check to see if you really are the baddest hustler in the neoliberal hood after all. It’s completely limp, flaccid, lackluster. The game treats all the effort you put into this as exactly what it is: sad, cringe fantasies of a poor old man who’s huffing copium over the embarrassed millionaire mythos.

Disco Elysium doesn’t give libertarianism a poignant, profound conclusion because it’s an ideology undeserving of such treatment. It’s a hyper-capitalist cult mentality of toxic positivity and confirmation bias, a way for desperate people to trick themselves and other chumps into thinking they can bootstrap their way into wealth and prestige. It goes past wishful thinking into pure delirium, the game doesn’t engage with it seriously because it doesn’t have to, the only people who sincerely believe any of its tenants are morons and the clowns who sucker them.

[janeyseymour]

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 1

@schemmentis threw out the idea of a reversal of LTN, so... here it is. I hope it delivers.

WC: ~3.3k

When Melissa Schemmenti had said “for better or for worse, til death do us part,” she had wholeheartedly meant it and believed it. She had seen the way that her parents had fallen out of love and divorced, and she swore that she would learn from their mistakes and find a real and true love- that she would fight for her love and her life, and that she would never end up the bitter divorcée like her mother, cursing the father of her child in front of said child. 

But here she was doing everything she promised herself she wouldn’t and packing her bags along with her son’s after she caught Joe in bed with his babysitter. And then he had the audacity to tell her that they needed to divorce- that he was in love with Alyssa and couldn’t keep this charade going.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” Melissa grumbles as she hold her son on her hip. “Sleeping with the nanny… fuckin’ babysitter fucker.”

“Momma.”

“I’m sorry Joey,” the redhead mumbles as she presses a kiss to the little boy’s head. She curses the day she let her idiot of a husband convince her to name their son after him. “I’m sorry… Momma’s just… mad.”

“Really mad?” the newly four year old asks.

Melissa just nods once before continuing to pack their bags.

“Momma?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re getting out of here,” the teacher sighs. “Daddy decided that we aren’t good enough for him anymore, and you know what? We’re better than him… so we’re leaving, and we’re goin’ to be real happy.”

The last thing that she packs before they leave for the night is the divorce papers. She shows up at Kristen Marie’s doorstep praying that her sister will be kind enough to let the two Schemmenti’s stay on her couch.

“Melissa? Joey?”

“Please don’t say his name,” Melissa groans as she rubs at her temple with the hand not holding her four year old. “I- I can’t right now without wanting to take my bat to that rat bastard’s car.”

“Rat bastard?” Joey echoes through a yawn. He reaches over for his aunt.

“Don’t repeat what Momma just said,” the blonde Schemmenti sister sighs as she takes the little boy into her arms. “What happened, Mel?”

“Asshole slept with the nanny, and then even after I forgave him for the sake of our son handed me divorce papers at dinner,” the redhead huffs. “Can we crash here on the couch for the night? If I have to look at him one more time tonight…”

“Stay as long as you need,” Kristen tells her sister as she roams further into her townhouse. “And you damn well know I ain’t letting you sleep on the couch when I have a perfectly good guest room.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Melissa sighs softly. “Thank you.”

That was three months ago. In those three months, Joe had promised to give Melissa absolute hell when it came to the divorce and settling everything, claiming that Joe Jr. needed to be with his father. The redhead was adamant that their son, who she now called strictly “JJ”, would be staying with her. This divorce was getting intense and messy, and everything that the second grade teacher had hoped it wouldn’t be- but when there’s a small child involved, of course it would get messy.

In those three months though, the Schemmenti sisters had used their powers of knowing many different guys who were able to help throw together a decently sized apartment for cheap, and she was able to get a steal in terms of rent.

The two had just finished setting up JJ’s bedroom when Kristen Marie finally called it a day. And that leaves Melissa and her son. Her son who is absolutely starving and exhausted and not yet used to this new place that he was supposed to call home.

“Love,” the redhead sighs as she tries to soothe his wailing. The second grade teacher is positive that this place had thin walls, and her neighbors are going to hate her if he continued to cry like this.

“I want to go home!” JJ cries into his mother’s shoulder.

Melissa lets out a shaky breath. “This is home now.”

“No!” his little balled up fist collides with his mother’s shoulder blade. It takes everything in the redhead to not groan out in pain.

“JJ,” Melissa warns. “We do not hit Momma.”

“I don’t care!” he shouts as he does it again.

“Joseph Alexander,” the mother says sternly. She hates that her son shares a first name with his father, even more so now that they’re in the midst of a dirvorce.

The redhead closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Maybe we need to go on a walk. What do you think? I think that sounds like a great idea,” she thinks aloud. The woman knows that walking around with him while humming softly is almost a sure fire way to get him to fall asleep and stay asleep for at least thirty minutes while she makes dinner, and it has been the perfect way to lull him to sleep since he was born.

She steps out into the hallway and begins to bounce him gently as she walks up and down the hallway, mindlessly singing her favorite tunes softly. When she starts to sing “You Are My Sunshine” though, something else takes over in her body, and she can’t help the tears that form in her eyes. They fall down her cheeks so delicately, and with her son in her arms, she is unable wipe them away. There’s something different about the song now that her marriage had turned into a failed one, and Joe is truly trying to take her little boy, her sunshine, away.

And that’s when you just so happen to be making your way out of your own apartment from down the hall. You immediately hear the soft and sad tune that you’ve had memorized since you were little, and your gaze follows the voice. Your eyes land on a stunning redhead that you’ve never seen before who is holding a now sleeping little boy- and then you see that her eyes are sparkling with tears. Deciding not to overstep and say anything when it looks like this woman is clearly in distress, you simply wave at her gently with an encouraging smile before heading for the elevator.

Once Melissa is sure that JJ is out for at least a little bit, she heads back into the apartment and sets him on the couch. The mother drapes a blanket over her dozing son before pressing a soft kiss to his chubby little cheek and making her way into the kitchen.

It’s much later when you return back from the gym and freshen up in the shower. As you go to sit on the couch with a glass of wine to unwind for the night, you frown. Maybe you should check on that neighbor of yours. You’re familiar with everyone else who lives on your floor, so you know which door to knock on in order to find that beautiful emerald-eyed woman from earlier in the evening with a second glass of wine in hand to offer to the woman that you don’t know the name of.

Inside the apartment, Melissa is sitting on her new couch with a bowl of popcorn and a rather heavy pour of red wine as she watches her reality television show that she hasn’t had time to watch in the midst of the move. 

Your knock startles her. It’s loud enough to get her attention, and she grabs the bat that sits next to her for protection. She approaches the door with her bat in hand.

“Who is it?” the redhead yells just loud enough for you to hear, but not loud enough to wake the little boy in the other room.

“You the woman that just moved in?” you call back.

“What’s it to you?!” she asks, and her grip on the bat just gets tighter, although she knows it’s probably nothing worth worrying about. Your voice was light and sweet, even at the volume you were using.

“Saw you had a kid. Was wondering if you needed help with anything. You looked real stressed.”

At that, she opens the door just a crack, and she recognizes you as the woman she saw a few hours earlier. Her bat lowers, and she opens it a bit more.

“The help would’ve been nice while I was moving in,” she retorts.

“Trust me, if I were around this last week, I would’ve offered to help,” you sigh softly. “Away for work… but it’s nice to meet you now.” You offer her the glass of rosé wine that you had brought from down the hall.

“I’m already ahead of you there,” she sighs with a bitter chuckle. “Thank you though.”

“Yeah,” you laugh softly as you tuck a hair behind your ear. Now that you can see her up close and personal, you see that she really is stunning- beautiful red hair, sparkling jade colored eyes, straight teeth, and you would be lying if you hadn’t stolen a glance at her figure. “I thought it might be a nice way to introduce myself and welcome you to the second floor. If I- If I had anything for your little boy, I would’ve brought it over too, but I wasn’t aware that the new neighbor had a little boy.”

She purses her lips. “You don’t gotta act like you care about the new neighbors.”

“I don’t,” you give her that. “But I always go out of my way to try to make the newbies feel welcome- especially when I see that the new neighbor is upset in the hallway with her little boy on my way to the gym.”

That gets Melissa’s false bravado to break just slightly. “Sorry if that disturbed you. It’s the only way I can get him to go down for a nap when he’s like this- all riled up from the move.” 

You just raise a hand and shake your head gently. “No need to apologize. Your singing is a lot less disturbing than the sex I can hear my other neighbors having.”

The redhead can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous comment you just made. “I more meant his crying.”

“Little kids cry- my sister’s kid cries all the time. I’m used to it,” you chuckle softly. “Now seriously, do you need anything? How can I help?”

“I think I’m okay,” she tells you. “But I do appreciate the check in… Sorry I approached the door with a bat.”

You wave a hand in dismissal. “I get it. Being in West Philly by yourself as a woman can be scary- I have to admit I would’ve done the same thing.”

She just smirks at you.

“Well,” you sigh. “Have a good rest of your night, neighbor. Welcome to the second floor.”

You turn on your heel and start to head back down to your own apartment when her voice stops you. “Wait!” You turn back to face her. “I- I never got your name.”

“Y/N,” you smile at her.

“M- Melissa,” is all the redhead can stammer out as she takes a moment to memorize the name to the face. “And my son is JJ.”

“Well, it was really nice to meet you, Melissa. If you need me, I’m just two doors down at 208. Don’t be a stranger,” you wink at her before heading back into your own apartment.

The redhead stands there for a second, not quite knowing how to feel about you. You’re odd- the only Philadelphian who has given her the time of day, and then you wink at her? It’s different, and entirely the opposite of how most Philadelphians are, and somehow, she’s intrigued by you.

It’s the next day when you’re heading back from work that you stop at the Target on your way home to pick up groceries. When you pass the children’s section, you pause before turning your cart down that way. You throw a thing of Play-doh in before continuing down. If you run into Melissa today, you’ll give it to her for her son.

You do end up running into her as she’s trying to unlock her door. She has her son on her hip again, but she’s on the phone this time. She’s shouting into the phone as you pass her with the bags you’ve brought up. You dig through your bags before you hand her the little container filled with the clay for JJ, and she gives you an odd look. You just nod and smile before making your way into your apartment and unloading your groceries. 

When there’s a knock on your door, you jump just slightly as you pull the handmade pizza out of the oven. You set the dinner on the stove before making your way over to the front door. You glance out of your peephole, and there is Melissa with JJ on her hip and giggling with glee as he plays with the Playdoh you bought for him.

“Hey,” you open the door with a smile.

“We thought we would just stop by and say thank you,” the woman bounces the little boy on her hip gently. He giggles, but his eyes don’t leave his hands. “JJ, say thank you to Miss Y/N.”

“Thank you!” he grins as his eyes finally leave the dough in his hands.

Your smile only gets softer as you see how adorable the little guy is. “You’re so welcome. I’m glad you like it!”

“Like it?! I love it!” JJ squeals and kicks his legs with glee. “It’s my favorite color too! How did you know I loved blue?!”

“Thank you,” Melissa tells you gently. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I didn’t have to,” you shrug. “But I wanted to.”

The emerald-eyed woman doesn’t quite know what else to say, so there’s a bit of an awkward silence that washes over the two of you.

“Would you two like to come in for dinner? I made homemade pizza,” you offer, hoping to cut the tension and perhaps get to spend a bit of time with your new neighbors from down the hall.

“Pizza?!” JJ’s eyes light up at the word.

Melissa looks down at her son. “Baby, I thought you wanted pasta.”

“But Momma, pizza!” he shouts with enthusiasm.

Green eyes meet yours, as if she’s trying to find whatever game your playing. But you look genuine with your invite. “Are you sure we wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Positive,” you tell her softly. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”

Dinner is nice. Melissa is guarded at first, but her walls slowly come down as she truly sees that you have no malicious intention inviting her and her son in. JJ adores you immediately, telling his mother that he’s never had such good pizza. She has to admit too, your pizza is one of the best she’s had. She doesn’t know that your cousin owns a shop down the street, and you’ve tweaked his recipe to be better than the pies he sells.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you chuckle softly as you start to clean up the meal. Then you glance to his mother. “Care for another glass of wine?”

“As much as I would love to,” she sighs. “I’ve gotta get my little man to get bed.”

“Ah, yes,” you smile. “I totally understand. Well, thanks for coming over.”

“Thank you for having us,” the redhead says genuinely as she wipes the four year old’s face clean of the sauce that’s spread all over. She wipes his hands, and then holds out her own for him to take.

He doesn’t take her hand though, and he instead runs over to you and hugs your leg. Your hand immediately goes to his back and pats it gently with the softest smile on your face.

“Thank you, Miss Y/N.” JJ looks up with you, and his eyes sparkle the way his mother’s do.

“Of course, sweetheart,” you tell him gently, voice warm and smooth like butter. You crouch down to his height and hug him properly.

Melissa watches the two of you with a bit of a twinkle in her eye. She’s in awe of how well you handle him. You’re definitely younger than her, but you have such a way with JJ- maybe it’s because you have a niece or a nephew, she remembers.

You give him one last gentle squeeze before letting him go. “I think your momma’s waitin’ for you, hun.”

He giggles before running over to the redhead and lifting his arms up with a soft request for, “Uppy.” Of course, the mother settles him on her hip with ease, and she tosses a thank you over her shoulder as she makes her way towards your front door. Something stops her though, and she turns back around into the kitchen where you’re washing dishes.

“If you want, you can pop over any time after 7:30 for a glass of wine,” she tells you. “JJ will be down for the night by then.”

“I’ll see you at eight,” you tell her softly, and you wink at her again. 

As Melissa tucks her son in for the night, she can’t help but wonder if you’ll show. There’s a big part of her that hopes that you’ll make your way down the hall, although she can’t quite place why she’s taken such an interest in you. She indeed has taken up an interest in you- you’re meek and mild, a sweet lady who has nothing but the best intentions from what she can see (and that’s quite hard for her to not be pessimistic about you, but you’ve managed to make her believe that you might just be good at the root of it all). You’re completely the opposite of her ex-husband and entirely not her type.

And at eight o’clock sharp, you show up at her door, a bottle of wine in hand.

“Hey,” you sigh softly when she opens the door for you. “I brought wine.”

“Wine’s on me, hun,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “You make dinner on a night where I really didn’t want to cook, so I provide the drinks after. What do you like?”

You shrug. “I’ll drink whatever.”

She pours a glass of red- and while you aren’t necessarily a fan of any type of red blend, you take it and sip on it. It tastes much better when it comes from someone as beautiful as her. 

“So,” you start as you settle on her couch. “Do you wanna talk about that rather heated phone call I caught you in the middle of earlier today?”

She closes her eyes and takes a shaky breath.

“Hey,” you say gently, and you reach a hand out to lay over hers. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t gotta.”

“Shit soon-to-be ex-husband,” is all she says, and you immediately understand. The frown that washes over your face is one that you can’t hide.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her immediately.

She shrugs. “Caught him fucking the babysitter. He handed me the divorce papers three months ago, and now I’m in a damn custody battle over my son… like hell is he going to get JJ.”

“Custody battle?”

“Yeah,” the redhead groans. “And my lawyer is taking his sweet ol’ time, so right now, I’m shit out of luck.”

“I- I may be able to help you with that one,” you tell her. Her brows raise, and that’s when you reveal what you do for a profession. “I’m a lawyer… specifically in family court.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[whateverisbeautiful]

���️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#19: The Bad B (1.03)

If the definition of an A was in the dictionary it would likely just define it as "Michonne Grimes." I genuinely think of all of team family Michonne is probably the one that would be hardest to conceal that she’s an A. Which is why I felt Richonne’s plan was a little doomed because when you’re a natural-born bad b… it's gonna make you a bad B. 😬

And it’s gonna make your husband forget he’s not really supposed to know you let alone be mesmerized by the sight of you.🤭...

So the baddest chick in the game has found herself in Rick’s similar position as a consignee killing walkers. Michonne waits for the walkers to arrive as that chipper woman on the PA says these assignments bring them one step closer to being Civic Republic citizens. I know Michonne is paying no mind to all that talk because she intends to be out of here in no time. 

I love the throughline in this episode of Michonne speaking to Judith, her little Shoto, in the voiceovers. 🥰 Michonne is in this vast new territory, knowing no one but her husband and it really is like she finds some comfort in going through this with her daughter. Her kids are always on her mind. And it’s so sweet that as a mom she wants to tell Judith everything going on.

And again Rick and Michonne are so similar because during his consignee shifts, he was talking to Michonne and during her shift she’s talking to their daughter. Also Michonne really just does have “That Girl” presence as she waits for the walkers with the rest.

The voiceover starts with Michonne saying, “Shoto, it’s Daito. I found him. I found the Brave Man.” Considering she and Judith (and later we learn RJ too 🥹) were the ones most believing Rick was still alive it’s great hearing her tell Judith she really did find him. 

She says, “He’s in a place I didn’t expect. A world I didn’t imagine. I know you have questions. I wish I could answer them. But there is so much I don’t know yet about the people here.” And part of why she still knows so little about this hidden city is because the one moment of alone time she's had with Rick in this place, he didn’t exactly give her the full 411 since making out was the top priority lol. 😋

But also I just love hearing Michonne as the mom who knows her inquisitive daughter is going to want answers and she wants to provide them to her as soon as she gets them. 

She continues, “and how they were able to keep someone as strong as The Brave Man for so long.” I love that she says that. It again illustrates her belief in Rick and it’s something I think a lot of us were wondering when Rick left the main show and there was a 6-year time jump. What could have kept him away that long? So it makes sense Michonne would wonder that too since she knows how strong and resilient Rick is and also how devoted Rick is to his family - so if something kept him down this long it’s gotta be pretty formidable.

Michonne looks up at the wall and sees ‘Grimes 68’ written, indicating Rick holds the kill record. And I feel like with her taking that in there’s this element of knowing Rick is still that guy who can handle business but it also could almost make Michonne wonder how much roots has Rick laid here. Like wondering if he's more tied to this place than she knows, considering even their last name is on the wall.

(Side note: I like how it’s clearly been at least a year since Rick was a consignee but still no one has broken his record…yet. 😉)

gif cred: @perryabbott

Michonne then says, “He’s been trying to come home all this time.” I love that she believes that wholeheartedly. She knows that even tho Rick told her losing his hand was from one of the last times he tried to escape, he still always wanted to come home to her and to Judith.

Then I love the shot of Michonne just smiling a little and looking like this ain’t no thang as she prepares to kill the walkers. She says, “They stopped him again and again.” And then I love the way the music swells as she reassures her daughter, “But Shoto, they can’t stop us.” period. 👑 I love her belief in Richonne. She’s like baby girl, your mom and dad got this cuz we always do together. 😌 And it’s true, now that Michonne’s up in this place 'the last light of the world' doesn’t stand a chance. 

Then they cut to Michonne and Cleo Clifton doing walker clean-up and this is where Michonne has got to try to be in her acting bag as Dana Bethune again. And similar to Rick, I can’t quite give my good sis Michonne an A letter grade for the Dana performance, but I’ll give her a B+ because she was doing her best lol.

And my B letter grade is the only thing 'B' about this scene because Michonne really can’t help but be an A all day every day.

Cleo notes Michonne’s natural ability to cut through the walkers quick and asks if she’s been out there awhile. Michonne tries to sound casual as she says, “Yeah. Were you?” Then Cleo introduces herself and Michonne introduces herself as Dana Bethune. I love that she chose an impactful Black woman educator and activist’s last name, Mary McLeod Bethune. 😊

Michonne has decided this Dana character is very smiley and wonderstruck by the Civic Republic stuff as she smiles and says, “Just taking it all in.” Cleo calls consignment “the doorstep of paradise” and Michonne asks, “You think it’s paradise for everyone?” Because she knows for her husband this place has been hell.

Cleo says she’s pretty sure it is since it’s an upgrade from how she was eating crickets and sleeping in a tree before this, to which I was like dang girl you were living like that this late into the apocalypse?

Then Cleo wants to know if Dana was given 3-day training or 6-day training, as they dole out days based on how much ‘steel’ they think one has.

Michonne tries to evade answering by saying, “Why don’t you guess and tell me later.” The way the CRM suspects Michonne is an A, she probably is the only one out there with 1-day training. 😂

gif cred: @nerd4music

Cleo shares her guess right away and confidently says, “Three” because she knows Michonne knows what she’s doing and can handle business.

Michonne, not the most subtly, tries to dead that narrative by saying Cleo doesn’t know that but Cleo is basically like girl, you straight up radiate competence. And does. She has since day one when she told Andrea she never stopped having it together.

One of the things TOWL did better than TWD is have more characters take note of Michonne being that girl. I’m here for it because characters not being instant admirers of Michonne...

Some super nasty-looking walkers weren’t fully killed and so it causes some complications. But not for long because bad b Dana takes care of it before the soldiers can even approach.

And my client is innocent because the soldiers said, “Consignees, clear” and Michonne just thought they meant Morgan Jones’ version of ‘clear’ so she proceeds to handle business all by her bad self. 😇

gif cred: @taiturner

See, those CRM soldiers should have been more specific lol. 🤷🏽‍♀️

But yeah because an A gon do what an A gon do, Michonne rips the head off a walker and saves Cleo by tossing the head with perfect aim to kill another walker. Again, TOWL really found the one thing Michonne can't do which is not be the baddest woman walking.

I mean we're talking about the woman who quickly clocked who the Governor really was and wasn't afraid to let him know she saw right through him. This is also the woman who rolled up to a prison and had both the Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon in her face demanding answers and she wasn't shrinking back at all.

Basically, being an A is just deeply embedded in her DNA.

And our girl really was trying her best to be a B before this, but the A in her couldn't help but pop out.

gif cred: @nerd4music

The soldiers say “Good work” and Cleo doubles down on being right about Michonne’s aura, as Michonne subtly looks like 'shoot this might have been the opposite of what my husband told me I should do.' 😬

All those challenges she's had to overcome over the years, and hiding that she's a bad b is one of the hardest challenges yet. 😅

gif cred: @nerd4music

Ok so then next we get such a great wordless Richonne moment. I love it so much. 😍

They cut to Rick masked in his helmet and CRM uniform as he walks up and then takes off the helmet looking all kinds of fine. 🔥 Like for some reason whenever Rick is under the most duress, his fineness somehow skyrockets. It's been a consistent thing since early TWD and I don’t understand it but it’s a prepossessing sight for sure. 👌🏽

gif cred: @nat111love

And Michonne is always a welcomed sight for Rick as he looks out and before they even cut to her you can see in the softening of Rick’s face that he’s spotted his wife. 🥰

gif cred: @riickgrimes

So then with their signature Richonne music playing, Michonne walks toward him and it seriously feels like it’s filmed like a bride walking to her groom to me. And Rick sure is looking at her like he’s looking at his beautiful bride too. 😊

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

I’ll always adore how Rick and Michonne are some of the world’s most lethal and yet their hearts become so warm and fuzzy everytime they look at each other.

I love the little shy glances Michonne sneaks at him as she approaches. And then her little smile. 😊

gif cred: @riickgrimes

She loves him so much, she thinks he’s fine, and she knows he’s completely taking her in right now. And she knows this because, unlike Michonne who's trying to be subtle during this cute passing moment...that man Rick is not making little sneaking glances.

No, Grimes, who is supposed to be playing the role of Man Who Is Not Madly In Love With The New Consignee, just straight up stares right at Michonne as she walks. Entranced since day one, y’all. Ain’t nothing changed. 🤭

gif cred: @nat111love

It’s so cute seeing Richonne have to pretend like this but still have a moment that’s so filled with love and desire.

It’s already gotta be so crazy for them that they’re even looking at each other at all. Like just reuniting is still so fresh. But even tho Rick and Michonne can’t greet each other how they’d want to right now (which would most definitely look like pouncing on each other with more kisses) they still just look like ‘there goes my baby.’🥰

When Michonne walks past him I always remember the first time I watched this scene I was thinking, 'If Rick didn’t have to pretend they were strangers right now he would most definitely turn around and look back to check her out.' And y’all, before I could even finish that thought…

gif cred: @riickgrimes

Rick does exactly that lol.🤭

I said now, sir 🙃. This is why Richonne needed to draft up a new gameplan because they're supposed to be undercover lovers rn and Rick's out here doing exactly what he'd do if he could just be in love out in the open. 😅 Lol that turn-around look was signature Rick Grimes. If there’s an opportunity to admire and check out his wife, baby he’s gonna take it. Even with all these CRM people around. 👌🏽

I’m surprised the show didn’t have a moment this ep where somebody picks up on the fact that Sergeant Major Grimes, who used to be completely checked out, now hangs around consignees and gives the new girl his full undivided attention. Like Rick, these people only know you as the quiet grump and now your eyes have all this light behind them. But it’s Michonne - there’s no choice but for Rick to look alive with her around. 😇

gif cred: @nat111love

And while it was frisky risky to do this publicly, I honestly love that he still turned around to watch her go anyway. They’re magnets, he can’t help it. 🧲 😇

Also, watching it back, I noticed he really lingers with the look too. Like Rick doesn’t just do a quick look back. He full on stands there a moment just watching her. Lol gotta love this whipped man's admiration for his wife anytime any place. 😋 And to me this pretty much confirms that both Rick and Michonne love each other's walk. 😏

This moment is also really sweet because it's almost like seeing Michonne gave Rick a brief sense of calm after all the triflingness with Jadis. Like it’s sweet how despite all the stress we saw him feel with Jadis’ threats and how anxious he is to now figure out how to protect Michonne, here he could still take a moment to just presently be calmed and captivated by the sight of his gorgeous wife. 🥰 Without a word being spoken, Richonne gave us another golden scene with this moment. 😌👌🏽