#before the discourse began?

[aqours]

fanfiction

really is a very, very, very beautiful thing to me

[poseiben]

my two cents on the latest discourse: as someone who has taken race/resistance courses and queer theory classes y'all realize that oppression doesn't exist in a vacuum. you cannot isolate one specific variable to focus on, that's not how life and oppression works. all you are contributing to is dividing the community and isolating yourself, which, in turn, makes you More vulnerable to hate because you have no one to fall back on. what community will support you? you drove them all away.

[layzeal]

okay i'm gonna ask something very real right now. since we'll be receiving even more influx of users, lots of people will be using the main tags to find and be found by potential new mutuals

so, can we all agree to please keep discourse-bait posts outside the main tag?

this is like. the #1 reason i don't go into the main tag. it's exhausting. i rely almost entirely on mdzsartreblogs and my friends reblogs to find new posts, because the main tag is filled with #hot takes and discourse bait and people trying to start shit on purpose, which is silly cause most of the time you'll be posting that for your followers who already agree with you anyway

so, for the sake of welcoming new people, can we keep the main tag clear, please? if you do, use a different tag (you've must all have seen by now how i only ever tag my posts as #modao) i hate blocking people on tumblr, but because there's no mute button, it's the only option, but that also means i miss any other non-discourse bait post they might make

so like, let's keep it chill, let's keep it respectful. post whatever you wish on your blog, but if you're tagging it as #mdzs (or any main fandom tag), then please first wonder if it's a post you genuinely think would add value to it and help boost the artists and writers trying to look for audiences, or are you just looking for people to anger and causing people to not want to go into the tag anymore

[kingkatsuki]

— come

Toge was always so careful and meticulous about using his cursed speech, not wanting to impact himself or his friends. But when you’re out getting drunk in an attempt to forget your asshole of an ex-boyfriend, and he’s trying to get you home a certain word slips out and it doesn’t quite have the intended effect.

Thanks to the cum/come discourse for sparking this idea.

Pairing: Inumaki Toge x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dubious consent (to be safe— Toge uses his cursed speech on reader without consent but she likes it), exhibitionism, voyeurism, public setting, unestablished relationship, intoxication.

Word Count: 3k.

You didn’t expect your weekend to end like this. Saturday evening you’d been happily planning a holiday with your boyfriend, and then by Sunday morning, you’d broken up. His speech had started with an “it’s not you, it’s me” before you’d ended up throwing him out of your house and calling your best friend Maki. 

And that’s how you’d found yourself in some shitty bar in a rough part of town on a fucking Sunday evening as you throw back drinks to try to numb the pain. It was surprisingly busy inside the dingy bar, and you were just glad it wasn’t one of the band nights they seemingly had each weekend if the obnoxious posters splashed all over the walls were anything to go by. The loud music pounding through the speakers was enough to set the vibe without being so overbearing that it vibrated through to your skull. 

Being with your friends arguably made things worse as you glanced across the table at Maki and Nobara who were so clearly in love— why couldn’t you have something like that? 

Lamenting softly you eyed your empty glass before honing in on the warm dregs for Yuuta’s fruity cocktail. Watered down by melting ice as you slurped the rest of it back through his straw, left making an irritating noise as you tried to get every last drop of alcohol from the bottom of the glass. 

“Yeah, I think you got it all.” Megumi groaned in irritation as he took the hurricane glass out of your grasp, placing it back in front of Yuuta as he rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get another one.” You huffed, tapping his thigh to let you out of the booth as he moved to stand. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Megumi countered but did not attempt to stop you as you approached the bar. Clumsily weaving through the other patrons who loitered around the area with drinks in hand, as you narrowly missed walking into a guy holding two beers. 

Toge watched you closely as you made a beeline for the bar. He was just happy to be here with you at first, nursing his beer as condensation began to ripple down the bottle as the liquid built to room temperature. The blunt nail on his thumb scratched at the damp silver Asahi label as he languidly peeled it from the bottle. His eyes focused on you as you leaned over the bar to order another round of shots, your skirt raised just enough that he could probably get a peek of the panties you were wearing tonight — not that he hadn’t accidentally snuck a glimpse when you’d crossed your legs on the train into the city earlier (pink, they were pink) — but this meant if he could see your panties now so could any other pervert in this dingy dive bar. 

Fuck. 

“Toge?” Yuuji calls, “Where are you going?” 

Toge waves him off as he moves on instinct. Abandoning his long-forgotten beer as he navigates himself through the crowd towards you, violet eyes glancing at a man who was clearly checking you out as his brows creased into a frown. Deliberately coming to stand behind you to hide your ass from the perverts in the room as he lays a gentle hand on the small of your back. 

It’s the way your eyes light up when you see him that has his heart thunderous in his chest, so loud he thinks you could probably hear it over the abrasive drum and bass track that was currently playing. 

“Toge!” You turn to greet him, as though you weren’t just sitting beside him in the booth moments earlier. 

“Takana?” He looked at you with concerned eyes as your smile faltered. 

You’d definitely had too much to drink.

“But I don’t wanna leave yet, Toge.” You pouted at his question, your arms immediately curled around his shoulders as he had to take a step back to prevent his increasingly evident bulge from pressing against your front, “And I just ordered us more shots!”

“Okaka.“ Toge frowned, already certain you wouldn’t be able to stand if you had much more. 

“Don’t be like that,” You pouted, “You said you were gonna come out with me tonight to make me forget him, but you haven’t even danced with me.”

If you’d thought Toge had any inclination to dance with you, you should’ve been sorely mistaken. But the thought of you going anywhere without him dressed like this had a rage burning in his chest as he thought about anyone else laying even just a finger on you. 

“Sujiko.” He motioned to leave, his warm palm splayed against your hip as his fingers pressed into you. Feeling the plush of your body dip beneath his hand as his thoughts ran rampant, thinking about how pretty you’d look beneath him while he palmed every curve. 

“You’re no fun,” You furrowed your brows, and your bottom lip jutted out so adorably that he had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss you. For the first time, he wished that his cursed speech worked on the user because he’d shout a resounding “Don’t do it!” just to get himself to stop. 

“Okaka.” He repeated, thankful you could barely see his face beneath his mask as a pastel pink dusted his cheeks. Toge never wanted you to think he was boring, the banter you’d managed to maintain even though you were dating a less favourable guy kept him close to you despite your relationship. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased that you’d finally broken up, even if it meant you were hurting now. 

“Oh, yeah— you are fun?” You teased. Toge could see the cogs in your head working as you motioned back to the bar, “Then do a shot with me.”

Toge sighed beneath his mask as he kept one of his arms poised around your waist in a subtle sign of possession as he came to stand beside you at the bar. Glaring at the bright blue liqueur that’s sat in a rather large-looking shot glass— just thankful it wasn’t whiskey again. 

He didn’t enjoy letting alcohol get the best of him, especially with his cursed speech. It lowered his inhibitions and made him more susceptible to talking, which could be a danger in itself. Texting someone to “go die” playfully during a game or banter was one thing, but actually saying it when he’s shitfaced would have dire consequences.

“Shake shake,” Toge replied. 

The delighted squeal you let out at his answer as he moved his arm from its position to pull his collar down made his lips curl into a smile as he reached out for the glass. Holding it gently as he waited for you to do the same as you leaned your body weight against him, your perfume invading his senses as he tried to remember to breathe. 

God, you’re so tipsy. 

“Three, two, one—” You practically sing as you throw the shot back. 

Toge mimics your movements, not expecting the shot to burn as much as it does as it travels down his throat. Tempted to pull out his cough medicine to try and alleviate the tension, but it’s quickly forgotten when he watches your reaction. Your face is scrunched up adorably in disgust as you stick your tongue out, slamming the glass back down on the bar as you make a cute sound of repulsion. 

“I thought it would taste nice because it’s blue,” You whine, “That was even worse than the last one— let me get us something else.”

Your words are slurred as you move to lean back over the bar, trying to get the barman’s attention as Toge tries to pull you back. 

“Okaka.” He shakes his head, moving his hand from around your waist in favour of wagging a finger in front of you. 

He wants to shout at you, remind you that you promised you’d leave after this, but he doesn’t. Pulling his mask back up around his lips to avoid temptation as he tries to move you away from the bar. 

“Tuna tuna.” He presses, as you move back to lean against him. Your arms back around his shoulders as you sway from side to side. 

“But I don’t wanna go yet, Toge,” You pout, “It’s still so early.” 

Toge ignores your statement as he manages to walk you far enough from the bar that you’re not in danger of ordering more shots. The guy behind the bar was giving you far more attention than necessary and he’s certain he would’ve left the bottle if you’d given him the option. 

“Tuna.” He murmurs as you pull his mask down to stare up at his face. Giving him the same childish pout as he mirrored your actions with a pout of his own, showing off his curse marks as you resist the urge to stroke them.

“You go home Toge, but I wanna stay,” You huff, you throw your head back childishly and Toge has to tighten his grip on your waist to prevent you from falling backwards, “Yuuji will take me home.”

Toge was smart enough to know that Yuuji would be completely incapable of getting you home after the sheer number of two-for-one strawberry daiquiris he’d consumed tonight as he gave you a deadpan look. 

“Shake shake.” He replied sarcastically, his voice oozing with ridicule. Keeping his grip on your hip as he tried to move you to leave but you kept your feet planted in place. 

“Come on, just one more shot and then we’ll go—” 

Of course, he should’ve known you wouldn’t be satisfied with one, and the adorable pout on your lips would usually have been enough to have him crumbling, but he needed to get you home. 

You shook your head immaturely when he tried again to pull you away from the bar, practically whining as you begged him to stay, causing a disgruntled grunt to vibrate in his chest as he tugged your arm. 

“Come.” The word left his lips before he’d even thought about the implication, already turning his body to leave. 

And it should’ve made you follow him— But that isn’t how his cursed speech decides to work, and that’s definitely not where your mind is right now. 

You can feel it before it happens, your body torn from your consciousness as you feel the familiar tingles of energy pulse through your veins as your climax builds in your pelvis— but this is different. The desire blooms so hard and fast that it’s impossible to fight it, as you try to clamp your thighs together to satiate the ache as your arms tighten around Toge’s shoulders. 

He knows what he’s done before he sees it happen. The pleasured look on your face as your thick lashes flutter and your glossy lips part in a shameless whine, manicured nails drag against the messy hair at the base of his skull as your legs become weak. Leaning more of your weight against his a debauched, desperate whine spills from your lips.

Oh, shit. It’s loud, and he’s certain someone has got to have heard it, protectively pulling you closer as though he’s afraid someone else might get to see you like this. 

Toge feels his cock respond, pulsing against his pants as it begs to be set free. To feel your trembling walls hug him tightly as he slides into you for the first time— he’s fucked his fist more times than he cares to count to this image, and somehow seeing it here and now could never compare to all those dirty fantasies he’s had about you. 

The pleasure is all-consuming and nothing compared to the orgasms you’ve had in the past. It feels as though an invisible energy has injected its way into your veins and has filled you with an inexplicable warmth as your climax surges through you in harsh waves. The intensity has you weak at the knees as you cling to Toge to stop yourself from buckling to the floor, burying your face in his neck as Toge wishes he could see the way your eyes roll as your lashes tickle his throat and your lipstick smears against his collar, not that he cares— 

It’s too much, too intense as your hole clenches around nothing and your clit pulses. Thankful for the loud music coming out through the speakers as a sinful whine spills from your lips, your hips jerk wildly as you feel Toge’s hard cock press against your tummy. His breath comes out in harsh pants as he tries to think of something, anything to stop himself from creaming his pants. Already feeling the fresh pre drooling out of his cockhead and soaking his boxers at the mere sight of you.

“Fu-uck, Toge.” You whimper, your nails drag against his scalp as your fingers weave into his messy hair to tug roughly. Stealing a sudden gasp from the back of his throat as he feels you press your body against his. 

Toge tries to commit the sound of your moans to memory. The sultry, debased sound of your voice crying out his name as he forced an orgasm from you that he’ll no doubt be fucking his fist to later tonight as he feels your breasts drag against his chest. He feels like a pervert for getting off on this, no better than the men who were loitering around the bar for a glimpse up your skirt. 

A real creep— but somehow this was worth it, he thinks. 

In all those nefarious thoughts he’s ever had about you while he’s stroking his cock, he’s never once imagined you’d look this good. Completely ruined by him, and he hadn’t even touched you. The corrupt whines he’d stolen from your lips continue well into the tremours of your orgasm as he clings to the sound of them, unabashedly shifting closer so he can hear the high-pitched breathy whines you make over the music playing through the speakers. 

He doesn’t even care if your friends can see at this point if he’ll be roasted in the group chat or vilified for it later. He reckons it would all be worth it having finally seen you fall apart for him like this. 

And little did Toge know that you didn’t seem to mind much either. Your ex had never made you cum like that— an all-encompassing climax that left you feeling like putty. Your legs quivered as you felt the aftershocks continue to trickle through you all the way down to the tips of your toes. An impassioned energy that had your mind hazy, laced with cheap alcohol as it managed to consume your consciousness. 

It’s embarrassing. Knowing that anyone could turn to watch you in the crowded bar, to see just how blissed out you are as you lose control of your body and your senses. The pleasure practically forced itself upon you as you drown in it, wishing he’d help you through it with his fingers against your clit or inside your empty cunt as it continued to flex completely empty. Wondering if this is what he could do with his cursed speech, what Toge would be able to do with his hand— with his cock. 

You were looking up at him with the most fucked out expression on your face, it made it difficult for Toge not to want to kiss you— especially with your lips so close.  

“Fucking hell, Toge,” You exhaled shakily as you clung to him, “That was—”

He locks his jaw to bite back the urge to cough, trying to swallow it in his throat as he moves to pull his mask back over his face. Hoping to shield his now crimson cheeks but your hand is quicker, reaching out to prevent him from pulling it up. 

Toge wraps your wrist in a rough palm to tug your hand away from his mask with a frown, feeling his thumb press into your pulse point as you practically whine at him. Your hips still gyrating as you start to come down from your bliss, his eyes flit out to see if anyone seems to have noticed but thankfully the bar is raucous as he holds you against him as you continue to ride the little aftershocks of pleasure. 

You use your grip on the back of his head to tug him down to your height, your glossy lips barely graze his as you press your lips together. A kiss that leaves him craving more as his tongue peeks out to swipe at the gloss, tasting the sugary hint of cherry as you go cross-eyed looking at the curse mark on his tongue. 

Toge can’t stop himself now, one taste and he’s addicted. His warm palm smooth along your side as he maps out the curves of your body, inching his way up until he finds your face. Cupping your cheek in his hand as he leans forward to kiss you, his lips press firmly against yours as you gasp softly, allowing his tongue to delve further as he strokes it against every crevice. Tilting his head to deepen the kiss as you brush your tongue against his gently, feeling yourself melt into him as your hand's ball into fists in the fabric of his shirt. 

He knows it’s wrong. You’re inebriated, he’s already taken advantage of you by using his cursed speech and yet he can’t stop himself. You’re like a drug and he’s addicted as he longs for one more taste, just another hit and then he’ll quit— except he never wants to quit you.  

Toge has never felt so much disdain for the basic human need to breathe as he reluctantly breaks the kiss, keeping his lips pressed against yours as he pants against you. Your warm breath fans his face as half-lidded eyes meet his, your lipstick now smeared across the sides of your lips and chin as you give him a sweet smile. 

“Toge,” You whine, “You didn’t have to use your cursed speech on me to make me cum.” 

“Ikura.” He curses beneath his breath at the sultry lilt to your tone. 

“Can you make me cum again without it?” You ask so sweetly it has his body reacting before his mind as his neglected cock throbs beneath his pants.

Yeah, you were definitely going to be the death of him.

[garoujo]

saetoru is talking abt you on her private blog (@/clorindes) yuckkkkk

CW BULLYING, LITERALLY IMMATURE HIGH SCHOOL DRAMA, SUB POSTING.

hi nonnie, thank you for letting me know! since i’m leaving this blog & this platform for the foreseeable future i figured i might aswell get a few things off of my chest before i go. i apologise in advance for the vibes this post will probably bring, the discourse & the posts that will ofcourse follow, but i honestly i am not the first person to be targeted by this creator and i’m sure i won’t be the last considering the amount of creators that have been bullied off of this app by them.

first off i’ve had multiple blogs that would be considered bigger blogs such as @/hvnlydmn, @/atsymu + now this blog which is the biggest of all 3. i think there’s a sort of unspoken responsibility that comes with being a bigger blog which i know is no fun but it’s also because it can be super harmful on a site like this, when people weaponise their following.

on that note i’ll start this post by saying that i’ve known tee for probably around 3/4 years, maybe? we were mutuals on hvnlydmn & atsymu and we continued to talk on discord even when i was off of tumblr. i will honestly admit to this day i have never had a negative interaction with tee to my face and she was genuinely supportive of me during any discourse i was involved in. i am not some angel, i’ve had my fair share of crap on this app (of my own doing) but this post is not meant to come across like “oh she doesn’t like me so i’m calling her out” no. im sorry if this doesn’t line up with my brand and my ‘victim complex’ but i’m not gonna lie down and let someone on a power trip on a hobby app drag me through the mud.

first off i had began to get some off vibes from tee when i had started writing on garoujo, notably when i’d just hit my first milestone which was probably around 1k. during this i had decided to move my instagram theme from my main blog to my writing blog.

i’d noticed tee subposting (on main and on her personal blog which i followed at the time) about someone basically using the same theme as her, which after then clicking onto her blog i realised was an instagram theme. i didn’t think much of it, again me & tee were friends and she hadn’t came to me directly so ignored it. i was still a new blog and trying to solidly an aesthetic (before the beige lol) so i changed my theme / masterlists / layouts a lot.

a few more sub posts later i decided to message tee about it because with every thing i’d change / post on my blog, there always seemed to be another post. so i messaged her and got this response in: (i’ve blurred out my irl name btw) open up pics for convo!

so i let it slide, kept posting & that was that. probably a few days / a week later, tee had soft blocked me which then eventually led to me being hard blocked. i was upset ofcourse because i genuinely considered tee a good friend but i’ve always been a big advocate in controlling your space.

this was when, one of our mutuals in common (the first of many may i add) approached me on discord to say that just like now, i was being ripped to shreds on tee’s personal blog:

again i was notably upset about this because i was being accused of not only copying her theme but also her writing & masterlists, we did have a lot of mutuals in common so it was also upsetting knowing they would all be seeing these posts aswell. i allowed myself one sub post about “creating a narrative” because i was particularly frustrated but tee then also subposted about this, even though she had me blocked?

i would also like to say regarding our mutuals in common that this was not the first or last mutual to approach me regarding tee. i’ve had multiple people tell me that “they’re only mutuals with her because it would be more damaging not to be” “it’s easier to be on her side”. also i am not saying this is okay but i’ve had multiple of her current mutuals send me not only her posts, but screenshots of her private, personal instagram & also tell me about how all of them and their friends had a running joke / theory that tee made up her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) for attention.

regarding the accusations from tee i’d like to first comment on the instagram themes, again i had done an instagram theme on my main blog but it seemed to only be an issue when it was on my writing blog that was gaining traction. if the timing was off and it seemed like i copied her, i genuinely have nothing to say except it’s not the case— it’s instagram (which tee already admits she doesn’t own above) also the hanma writing? i’m still not 100% sure which drabbles she was referring to but i can only assume that 1. is when i posted a drabble about hanma fucking you outside of his subordinates house — this was a almost completely word by word rewrite of a suna drabble i done on my old blog @/atsymu i literally just changed the concept to fit tokyo revengers themes. i can post screenshots of this suna drabble also from my google docs dated February when i deactivated. the other one may have been some basic concept about him fucking you against the window.

she also mentions in the very first recent screenshot at the beginning of this post that i have apparently stolen concepts of fics / posts from her mutuals. what i want to say regarding this is, do you believe that i would have made it this far on stolen work? i don’t know any of the mutuals she’s referring to apart from 1 which i’ll get into. but every single accusation i’ve ever received has always come from someone associated or in contact with tee, she has always been at the root of it all but i have yet to receive a single anon or ask about me copying or taking inspiration from anyone’s work.

i know there was apparently a blog and an ex mutual of mine, who i had a lot of respect & time for who was under the impression i’d stolen their concept for this gojo fic. the whole premise of this fic is honestly not uncommon considering how many times people losing control of their techniques / powers / quirks during orgasm has been done in fanfiction. this concept was completely my own, i had originally posted shitposts about him losing control of his technique & also him putting you into a mating press / breeding before i’d decided to smoosh them together into a fic. we all read from the same workbook, we all have the same material to work off of — two people in a fanbase of THOUSANDS having a similar idea is not unheard of.

now onto the masterlist banners. the screenshot on the far left are the comparison photos that tee made herself— i’m sure you’ll be able to see them in better quality when she makes her own post about it; because obviously that’s going to come. first off i will say, i will admit i took inspiration from her official art masterlist banners — i thought hers looked good and i needed a masterlist so i used official art. fair game there although i only kept them for a few days before i changed again.

but onto the grey masterlist banners, i can honestly say i did not even know tee had this masterlist, also the only comparison i myself see is the colour. the only reason i chose grey was because i had started to use a grey / white overlay on my manga panels for my layout (as you can see far right), and as you know— i’ve always kept my colour scheme pretty consistent. on that note, regarding the actual layout of the masterlists— i’ve added screenshots from atsymu (that i could find due to it being deactivated) that shows the layout of my old masterlists, which was what i took inspiration from for my current. although the title font for each heading like headcanons is different, i had used the sort of old style, basic font that everyone uses before i had deactivated so it would match my fic headers i just don’t have photos obviously.

anyway on the back of this there was then discourse over me apparently copying tee’s kinktober masterlist, which again was not the case. but again due to tee’s following i had received multiple death threats into my asks the morning after i posted mine. as far as i was aware, the only similarities were the fact we both used gifs in our headers & the layout listing thirsts, hcs & fics (which is very common during kinktober but i admitted below i could see that similarity). unfortunately during all of this discourse was when ffflowers, my hate blog also came into the mix which then lead to tee reaching out to me in dm’s from her old blog.

the interaction between me & tee was pretty good, again she was nothing but nice to me directly despite the way she obviously spoke about me in private above. but as you can see below, tee herself told me that basically most of the similarities all made above were brushed off as basic. we spoke about the ig themes & i apologised, saying i could understand where she was coming from and that was that. i unblocked her & she unblocked me so i could reblog her post, it’s been that way since.

it is not my place to comment on other people’s experiences on this app but i would need more than 2 hands to list the amount of people that i’m sure have had similar if not worse experiences with tee. i know i have had multiple mutuals who have been bullied off of this platform & had their safe space ripped from them for little things such as: liking a character that this group selfship with, tee and her friends not liking their characterisation. they’ve even went as far as to go through other larger creators notes to check for minors so they can make excuses as to why they’re thriving.

i also know of a blog who was ‘blacklisted’ from tee & her mutuals as they self shipped with arataki itto at the time, one of tee’s friends also did, so they blacklisted this creator and had all of their mutuals block them for this which then in turn drove this creator off the app. there has been other notably bitchy things that i’ve heard but i have no receipts for therefore i don’t see any relevance in starting rumours.

i would also like to say i know plagiarism is a horrible thing, we have all been through it— myself included but it’s got to the point where being accused of copying tee has become a canon event. notably, bigger platforms have been ruined and driven off of this app for little things such as mdni dividers, similar colours schemes etc. and it’s the reason i’m also leaving.

i will say i have met some amazing people through my discourse with tee, notably people who have been in similar situations and i also apologise to any mutuals who we still have in common who are now sort of stuck inbetween. no hard feelings. although to tee: id be careful of the people you trust because it seems the loyalties they have to you are not as sincere as you may believe. you can also go to her personal & read the other things she was saying about me like how she was always so ? at how many people seemed to like me.

so that’s all i have to say, i’m sure dash will get a few responses from this but i’ll be logging out & turning off asks because honestly? couldnt care less. the only thing i’d change about my experience on this app would be i wish i’d blocked tee sooner.

i’d say have a nice day, but instead, have the day you deserve.

— emmie :)

[actiniumwrites]

knots

synopsis: lyney has been head over heels in love with you since the two of you were only ten years old. the only problem? you're friends with lynette and not him. so he spends the next 8-9 years pining over you with seemingly unrequited feelings

characters: lyney x gn!reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: angst to fluff, misunderstandings, happy ending, best friend's brother trope, an insane amount of obliviousness and pining, idiots to lovers pretty much, the ending is kinda rushed

disclaimer: i know character ages in genshin are a rather controversial topic of discourse within the community. i personally think of lyney and lynette to be around 18-19 years old and i do mention age in this fic as it follows a bit of a timeline. if this somehow bothers you, please just don't read or try to start an argument over it in my comments

notes: THIS IS SO CUTE IM SOBBING 🤧 i did throw in a lot of angst though i'm so sorry but i saw the opportunity and took it. the end is fluffy (and kind of rushed sorry) though‼️ the title is also inspired by lacy by olivia rodrigo as i think it's very fitting for this fic. thank you for the request! (this is my third time posting this cause the first time it didn't show up in the tags)

Lyney was jealous as a kid. It was hard not for him to be when him and Lynette were first introduced to you and you had barely even acknowledged him. He was only ten at the time, but he was so excited to make new friends outside of the House of the Hearth that he was stunned when you had only really talked to Lynette. You had only ever offered him a small wave and a smile to go along with it before running off with Lynette.

It wasn’t fair in his eyes. He was the one more interested in you anyway, not her. She had merely tagged along because he forced her too. Now here she was stealing his potential friends.

You’d clicked instantly with her. Both of you were more on the quiet and shy side, contrasting Lyney’s sunny and outgoing personality. You both liked the same foods, the same clothing, the same everything. Lyney wanted to share those with you too, but it was hard when his tastes differed from yours and you didn’t seem to pay much interest in him anyway.

And growing up, he’d always been around. You’d hang out with all of them, don’t get it twisted. It wasn’t like you’d ever told him he couldn’t spend time with you guys. In fact, you often spent a lot of time together. You were sweet. You loved helping them with their magic tricks, even though they normally failed since you were all thirteen by the time they really began taking it seriously. You’d pretend to be shocked when they guessed your card, despite knowing exactly how the trick worked. You’d be on standby when they performed more dangerous tricks. Hell, you were even an assistant for them nearly eighty-percent of the time.

Lyney was grateful for it all, but he still couldn’t shake the ever growing crush on you he’d developed three years ago when you first met. He wanted you to be closer with him more than his sister. It was selfish, he was well aware of that, but he was the one with a crush. Not Lynette.

Lyney was the one to pick you up and put a bandaid on your knees when you fell at the playground. Lyney was the one to always share his snacks with you, even when you usually said no. Lyney was the one to always sit next to you when you were feeling a little down and let his knee rest quietly against yours, hoping you wouldn’t pull yours away. Lyney was the one who was in love with you by the time you all turned 18.

When the fateful performance happened and they were revealed to be Fatui to the general public, he was sure you’d leave them for good. You had obviously known they were Fatui, but you didn’t know of the extent to which they acted, the crimes they had committed. In your eyes, they were only in training, because that was all they had told you. As close as you were to them, they could never let you know the full details. It was against the rules.

Lyney was so sure you’d up and leave that it was the second time he had ever truly felt anxiety in his life — his sister being taken was the first, but here you were making him feel that horrible pounding in his chest all over again. He was so sure that the ache in his chest would have to make room for more than just jealousy, but grief among heartbreak. That you’d look at them in fear and never speak to them ever again. That he’d never get to profess his love to you.

You proved him wrong, and rather unexpectedly so. You’d shown up to every second of their trial and helped the traveler out as best you could to exonerate them. You’d stuck by their side through it all and made sure they were alright. He was so surprised you almost made him cry.

When they were freed from it all and the crisis was solved, you’d only hugged Lynette and Freminet. That was the part that stung the most. But at this age, Lyney was too nervous around you. How could he not be? You were so pretty and sweet and kind that he didn’t know what to do, especially when he was confused as to where he stood with you. You were all of those things and more with everyone. Everyone but him.

So he pulls away.

He doesn’t want to. God, he’s so in love with you he doesn’t want to ever spend a second away from you, but you never reciprocate any of it. So perhaps, he decides one day, it’d be best to just move on and focus on other things. Lynette could have you to herself and he’d find someone else, no matter how much he wanted you the most.

And you hate it, because well, you’re confused. Which sounds unfair, and in some ways it is, but Lyney was a special light in your life that you couldn’t get too close to. Not because you didn’t want to. No. Of course not. He didn’t realize that you were too scared to. You were so different that you shied away from him, despite feeling all the same toward him. He was like the sun and if you got too close to him, you were scared he’d burn you.

Lynette pushed you toward him regularly. You never seemed to escape her late night gossip sessions where she told you all about how her brother was practically drooling over how good you looked or how sweet you were. You found it endearing while she found it disgusting. Despite it all, though, you had confided in her about your crush on him as well, but how terrified you were to try to actually approach him. She almost slapped you right then and there.

Lynette thinks you’re both stupid. And she’s right. Because now you’re both stuck in a huge misunderstanding. Lyney thinks you hate him and you think he hates you. Could anyone really blame her for being so annoyed?

“You need to talk to him,” she finally breaks one day, about to pass out in her chair from her social energy running out just from hearing about the entire situation nonstop for the past week. You stare at her mortified as she gives you an unimpressed stare.

You nearly choke on the drink you were sipping on just a moment ago, catching a few passerby’s attention as you do, “Why do I have to be the one to say something?! He’s the one that started avoiding me!”

“Are you dense?”

“No?”

She stares at you for a long minute and sighs.

“You’re both idiots. He likes you. You like him. You were too shy to say anything and now he’s decided to move on,” she explains, unimpressed. Did you really not see it after all these years?

“Move on? What?” you place your hands on the table in front of you, panic swimming in your eyes. It all hits you so fast you feel your heart practically about to burst out of your chest.

“I have to go, sorry!” you jump out of your chair, yelling a string of apologies from behind you as you run from the cafe.

It takes you an hour to find him after your conversation with Lynette ends abruptly. Freminet was nice enough to let you know Lyney had gone down to the outskirts of the main city to work on some magic tools by the beach. It was just an excuse to get away. All three of you knew it, but Lyney wasn’t the type to say how he truly feels in fear of being a bad leader.

You wished he had said something sooner. Though perhaps you should’ve been the one to take notice long ago that his advances were more than just friendly.

You suddenly feel regret build up in your stomach at the way you treated him all these years. You were so afraid of your feelings you sabotaged yourself in the process and unknowingly hurt him too.

You find him sitting in the sand, legs crossed as he quietly fiddles with a few parts for some magic props.

“Mind if I sit?” you practically whisper from beside him. Lyney doesn’t even look at you. It’s cold and and unlike him and must be exactly how you looked all these years. He nods anyway.

You watch the waves crash in front of you. Over and over again as they grow closer with the deepening hours of the night. The stars reflect gently upon each and every one of them yet you can’t get yourself to focus on them.

You fidget with a small flower in your hands. It was tucked away gently in your pocket, the petals sticking out to prevent it from getting crushed. It’s a vibrant pink and even with its petals closed for the night, it still looks beautiful in your hand. It reminds you of all the times Lyney had dropped the very same ones at your doorstep or somehow tucked away on a piece of your clothing without you noticing. You hadn’t bothered to look into the meaning back then. You never knew rainbow roses were a declaration of love.

Lyney still sits quietly next to you, now messing with the hat he had taken off when you arrived. His lavender eyes avoid yours, but you don’t hesitate to drop the flower gently into his hands.

“I never knew the meaning of these,” you turn to him and say softly. Your eyes match your voice and he knows you’re telling the truth, even if he doesn’t want to believe it. When he doesn’t move to touch it, nor get rid of it, you speak again, “It’s uh…it’s for you. I picked it on the way here. I thought you’d maybe like it.”

He finally picks it up and turns toward you, a mixture of emotions pooling in his eyes. You see the anger, the fear, the pain, and the love all at once. You wish you had seen it all sooner.

“Why are you giving this to me?” Lyney asks quietly. It comes off a little colder than he’d like, you see it in the way he winces after. You only stare at him with a sad, but hopeful look in your eyes. You couldn’t take back the past, but perhaps you could change the future.

Quietly, you take it from him and tuck it above his ear. He’d done the same to you one time, only it was part of a show and you thought it was just for the act. Oh how oblivious you were back then. “You know what it means to give someone one of these. Lyney, I…I never meant to push you away all these years. I was just scared because I liked you, and Lynette was easier to get closer to than face my feelings for you. Even if we were just ten years old. It was immature and for that, I’m sorry.”

It’s quiet for a moment before his face brightens a bit, “Do you really mean it? You’ve really liked me all these years? Or are you just saying all this to make me feel better?”

You nod, confirming your words and he breaks out into laughter. A sound you’ve dearly missed. Sadness doesn’t suit Lyney.

“Can I…?” He says scooting closer to you, eyes glancing in between yours before falling to your lips. You nod, a small laugh escaping you as you lean in to meet him half way.

Lyney’s lips are soft against yours as he kisses you eagerly. You reciprocate the feeling, matching his pace until you both pull apart out of breath. You laugh nervously standing up and extending a hand, “Wanna go home?”

Lyney jumps up, his hand in yours and nods. He interlaces his fingers with yours tightly, not letting you go after all these missed out years.

When you return to the House of the Hearth, Lyney turns and places one last kiss to your lips. It’s short and sweet and lets you know that he’ll definitely be seeing you tomorrow. You turn and walk away after, wishing him a goodnight as you do. But before you can walk away completely and turns and shouts, “7 PM tomorrow at the Hotel Debourd! I’ll pick you up!”

Lynette appears behind him suddenly, rolling her eyes and waving to you before shutting the door on her twin, “You’re hopeless, brother.”

[cacoetheswriting]

honesty: the music video

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 2.3k summary: after a long day on set, you can't wait to get it on with your costar.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: mature themes, literally smut with a minor plot, established relationship, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, praise kink, dom-ish eddie, adult language, heavy use of pet names, mentions of aftercare — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

celebrity skin. masterlist <- part of this lil' universe, but can totally be read as a stand-alone. timeline wise, this takes place somewhere after part 3 and before end part 5.

“We want it to be sexy.”

“But not too sexy.”

“Revealing.”

“But not too revealing.”

“Sounds like you guys don’t know what you want,” Eddie chimes in, interrupting the back and forth of your respective teams.

You stifle a giggle.

“That’s ‘cause of the two distinct styles,” someone from your team clarifies, “We wanna be respectful.”

“For sure,” one of the creatives on the Corroded Coffin side agrees. There’s a short pause. “We will have you two kiss at the end, though.”

At that, Eddie smirks. He looks at you from across the table and you could just about melt right there, blood rushing to your face, warming your cheeks.

“That won’t be a problem,” he says confidently and winks.

-

Honesty was a guaranteed hit. Top of the charts. Everybody that’s been so far involved in the project said it. They praised it. From the bass, drums, to the guitar and vocals. The production value was off the scale. A dream arrangement that would stand the test of time.

All the song needed was a music video equally as captivating.

A back and forth discourse began shortly after you first started recording with the band: whose style should the clip resemble more?

Corroded Coffin screamed all things dark, maybe a little gory. Their usual expression featured slightly melancholy undertones and a lot of references to all things Dungeons & Dragons. Imaginative, for sure. An artistry that had rarely been seen in the genre. 

Although it’s been an artistry vastly different from yours. 

The glitter hadn’t necessarily been your idea, but it certainly became a signature of sorts. Anything sparkly, always. And music videos that told a story. Most often one of love since that’s what you idolised ever since you were a kid — it obviously helped that love also sold millions of copies.

Eddie’s team argued that it’s the band’s song and you’re just a feature, therefore the accompanying video should lean into their style. Your management team was hesitant to agree. Calculating risk in case the lines get blurred a little too much and your pristine image shifts to the opposite end of the spectrum. Hours of arguments. Hours of negotiations. None of which you, or the rockstar were even mildly aware of. Too lost in each other's eyes and soft cotton sheets. 

Eventually, a compromise, of sorts, was found.

Ernest Hemingway’s The Killers influenced, in part, a 1946 film noir of the same title, with Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster taking the lead. The movie, in turn, inspired the black and white music video.

Done up in flair of the characters, Kitty Collins and Ole Anderson (aka Swede), you recreated iconic scenes alongside the brown-eyed rockstar. The rest of the band was also dressed to the nines. Side characters that played their instruments in the background of main shots. They blended in well, while adding a unique spin to the known story. 

Overall, the Honesty shoot quickly became a big spectacle. Bigger than anything Eddie Munson and his band of closest friends has ever been lucky enough to be a part of.

Intricate sets. Glamourous. In front of cameras and bright lights, you and your scene partner, Eddie, mouthed along the lyrics to the song as if they were a script. And with every scene, as if the two of you were the only people actually there, no equipment and no crew, you got lost a tiny bit. Lost in the chocolate of the rockstar’s wide gaze. In the way he smelled. The style of that decade suited the brunette greatly, so you became lost in how he looked in this character. Dapper. Unlike you’ve ever witnessed him before. He committed to the role too. A certain swag in his movements. How he touched you so hesitantly, delicately because that’s what the video required.

By the end of the night, after the director yells, “Cut!” to signalise a wrap, a round of applause for all involved in this project, you’re feeling hot and bothered. Sweaty, though not because you just completed a full day’s work. No. Somehow, you found the Corroded Coffin frontman even more attractive than at the start of that day — something you didn’t think was possible. When you glance in his direction, he’s already staring you down, and you know he feels the same way.

Backstage, inside your trailer, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch. Fingertips at your lips as you wait for that inevitable knock on your door. You know it’s only a matter of time considering the build up of tension throughout the shoot. From the lingering touches and that kiss the director had you two repeat over and over and over…

Logically, you could wait until the two of you were home. Back at Eddie’s Hidden Hills mansion, away from prying eyes and ears. In a bed that’s become all too familiar. Far from possible interruptions. Logic however, well, right now, logic was taking a back burner ‘cause you needed him now. Desperately. And without a doubt, Eddie needed you too.

A knock. Then again. But the rockstar doesn’t wait for you to answer. He lets himself in. 

“What happened to the wig?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It was itchy,” he replies with a slight laugh, then shakes his head. “I much prefer my natural locks.” 

“That’s too bad,” you say with a slight shrug, “You looked quite smart with that short hair.”

Eddie hangs his head with a smile, though his eyes don’t leave yours. Not even for a second. That’s when you notice the glimmer. That look, the reason he’s here, just like you predicted. So you return the expression. Only yours is a little more sly. Tempting him. Teasing. 

“I had fun today.”.

“Me too.”

There’s a lot that happens in the seconds after you stand up. A lot that happens quickly. 

Eddie reaches for your wrist, pulling you closer before wrapping his, for once, ringless hand around yours completely. He presses it to the middle of his chest, holding it against his heart. You can feel it beating and that’s enough to make you melt ‘cause it’s strong and you swear it skips at the contact. His other hand reaches for the base of your throat. He holds it gently, caressing upwards until he’s gripping your jaw. 

“Kissing you in front of all those other people kinda got me going,” he admits in a low tone.

Naughty, that’s what you want to say, but you don’t get the chance ‘cause his lips crash into yours. Hungry. Desperate. Rough. Heat rushes through your body at the sudden contact, no different than any other time his mouth found yours. You’re at his mercy, always, and he knows it well. 

His tongue glides along your top lip and you part your lips to accept him without hesitation. He wastes no time sliding into your mouth, letting this tongue work in tandem with yours as he tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. The hand holding yours lets go, instead finding home on the small of your back, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible. His other hand lets go of your jaw, albeit not completely. Ghosting along the side of your neck before you feel him wrap it around your throat, squeezing lightly. It’s nothing new for Eddie to be a little rougher with you, but there’s something about this moment, after a full day of moderate teasing and borderline foreplay, that causes a moan to burst through you when he squeezes again, only harder.

The rockstar pulls back, sporting a devilish grin. “Making such pretty noises for me and we haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

“Do your worst, Eds.” It’s a dare. Nothing sweet about it.

He smirks at the challenge and before you can register what exactly is happening, Eddie is lifting you up swiftly, hiking up your dress in the process, only to drop you down onto the sofa with a gentle thud. You’re wide-eyed as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other tugging at the pantyhose the wardrobe lady had you wear for the last scene of the video. He partially rips them off of you, then he hikes his index finger along the band of your underwear, eagerly pulling them down your legs until they’re wrapped around your ankles, with the reminisce of your stockings.

“The heels stay on,” the rockstar instructs, pushing your legs apart with force and positioning himself in between. All you can do is nod. Half-naked, half in costume. Same as him.

In the space of a heartbeat, his lips are on yours again. This time they don’t stay for long, instead moving downwards towards your chest. When he squeezes your breast through the silk material of your dress, he compliments how fucking good you looked, “I wanted to ravish you the second I saw you, baby.”

You whimper at his words, and at the fact that his now freed cock is gently brushing against your wet folds. Not quite breaching, just teasing you further. Only adding to the overall stimulation. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking pretty. And all mine.” Eddie’s breathing into your bare chest ‘cause somehow in the moment your dress has slipped down ever so slightly and your tits made an appearance. Fingers from one hand are digging into your hip, holding you in place, while the other has you by the ribs. Thumb brushing your soft skin while his hot mouth is sucking on your hardened nipple.

Your eyes are closed. You’re not sure when you closed them. He’s invading your senses all at once. Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, when you want to whither and plead for him to touch you where you need him most, Eddie plunges himself into you without warning and your eyes snap open. 

“Oh God…” he groans, drawing his hips back only to slam them in again, making your body bounce against him. “Fuck, baby. Jesus.”

You sob in pleasure as Eddie knocks the wind out of you with each relentless thrust, still increasing his speed. Heavy panting and grunting fills the trailer, along with the sounds of where his cock slams against your sweet juices. He’s sitting straight now. Eyes are fixated on the mess you’re both making, where his length disappears in and out of you, while you admire the way his locks fall naturally in place. Although briefly, ‘cause you’re arching your back the next second, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when he hits that sweet spot.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all stretched open like this, sweetheart. Your pussy was made for my cock, baby. You take it so well. You take this big dick so well, my good girl. Fucking made for me. Ain’t that right, dollface?”

“Made for you, Eds.” You just about whisper back, nodding your head feverishly.

Slap. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you practically wail. “That’s right,” he praises, “Made for me. So fucking tight for me.” Slap. Slap. Slap. 

Eddie’s cock starts to swell. You can feel it expand inside of you, then again when he thrusts back in. It has you heaving. The speed he’s established is close to becoming a little too much for the two of you and he drops his weight slightly, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his bare back. He can sense that you too are close and he’s trying hard to hold back, make this moment last longer, but his body refuses to slow down. Chasing the way your glistening pussy chokes his length. 

“Where do you want me baby?”

“Inside,” you croak out. “Cum in me, Eddie. Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“M’mph—” He chokes out, movements growing more and more erratic. The whole trailer is shaking at this point, that’s what it feels like to the two of you anyway. “Everybody out there will know what a good little slut you are. Not that innocent. Wanting me to fill you full of my cum, fuck.” 

Slap. Slap. Against your thigh. 

“Please, Eddie.” 

Slap.

“Shh… I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” He coos, “Gonna pump you full. Gonna make you see stars while my cum drips out of you.”

That’s when you shatter around him, uncontrollable desperate squeals making him groan louder as he continues. It’s sloppy, messy, and once you’ve completely unravelled underneath him, the rockstar can’t contain himself any longer. He lets out a broken moan as ropes and ropes of his warm spend start to throb into your hole.

His body gives up at the last spur and he drops flat on top of you, although not without a loose kiss placed to your jaw. His cock remains inside of your pussy. You can feel it pulsing until, after a few minutes, it no longer matches the beat of your heart.

Eddie lifts himself then. He kisses you softly and you smile against his mouth. When he eventually slips out and stands, he tells you not to move, that he’ll grab a towel from the small trailer bathroom and will help you get cleaned up.

“Wardrobe is going to kill us,” you call after him, balancing on your elbows as you sit up slowly. “Pretty sure these clothes can never be worn again. Purely for the fact that they reek of sex.”

“At least your wig stayed in place,” Eddie points out lightheartedly when he returns, his pants once again buckled, a towel in his hand. “That’s something the hair and makeup team should be proud of.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” you say, meaning it as a joke ‘cause there’s no way you would ever admit to what sins the two of you just committed.

Eddie smirks. “Pretty sure they already know,” he says as if it’s no big deal, “We weren’t exactly quiet, sweetheart.”

as always, thank you for reading! pls comment, reblog & support your creators.

celebrity skin. masterlist | the killers (1946) reference

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

[cookybananas]

It's Been A Long Time, Old Friend (Part I) - Unburnt!Darth Vader x Reader

summary: where Darth Vader arrives on the planet of Lianna. Only to discover that the Queen of Lianna was once his old flame during his Jedi years.

"And there you are! You're all set to go your Excellency." Chira, your handmaiden said after putting some final touches to your look.

"Chira, you know you don't have to call me that when we're alone right?" You responded, looking at yourself in the large vanity mirror. Your husband, Kairos, King of Lianna, was having meeting with the Emperor's right hand man, Lord Vader. Ever since your arranged marriage to him, it is expected of you to appear alongside him in his meetings to get a second opinion and to look like an accessory.

Never in million of years you would find yourself in an arranged marriage to a man you've never met, but here you are. Two years after the fall of the Jedi, you've traveled from planet to planet, evading inquisitors from finding and capturing you. There was one day you found yourself in a slave trading operation, where you sold off as a promising bride to your now husband, King Kairos of Lianna. At first, Kairos was hesitant in marrying you since you were a slave, but he had a duty to give his father a long lineage of heirs and his people a beautiful Queen to follow.

However, the marriage had been rocky from the get-go and continued to remain that way. You were never interested in him nor was he into you. No matter how hard you both tried to like each other, and understand one another, you both would always have opposing viewing points and would always clash. Maybe it had something to do with your Jedi beliefs instilled in you or your distaste towards members of royal families, or the fact your husband was a bootlicker for the Emperor and his Galactic Empire, and was a constant supplier for their TIE fighters.

Because of this, you both decided to remain separate from each other from all hours of the day, as you both had your own duties to fulfill. You both eventually agreed to sleep in separate chambers due to how sour the marriage had turned.

As dangerous and stupid of an idea it was at the time, you believed it was somewhat a smart plan on your end to marry a royal family member. The inquisitors couldn't suspect a former Jedi to marry into royalty, right? Luckily, it helps that women who are apart of the Royal Family of Lianna, are expected to wear face paint and makeup to cover up their real identity. A similar practice that derived from the Royal Family of Naboo.

You had also cut yourself off the force right after the rise of the Empire. After Obi-Wan had told you that Anakin had turned to the dark side, you both knew what was expected to come for the both of you. Obi-Wan had gone his separate way, and you followed suit onto your own path.

Now here you were, covered in white face paint, heavy purple eyeshadow, and bright red lipstick embellished your facial features.

Chira assisted you in your royal gown. The gown was a deep purple, adorned with thousands of beads from the waist down. Chira placed your large halo crown onto your head, securing it place.

"Andddddd we're done! It looks like it's time for your meeting!" Chira said, eyeing you up and down, making sure you were looking like royalty.

"Thank you Chira. You are free to leave." You replied. Chira bowed before exiting your chambers.

You met your husband on the landing pad to the palace, where you both awaited for the arrival of Lord Vader.

"Darling, don't you look delightful today." Your husband, Kairos spoke up, lending his arm for you to take.

"Don't I always do?" You quipped, wrapping your arm around his. The whirring sound of a ship approached the landing pad. The door to the ship opened, revealing a line of stormtroopers, as they walked down the ramp. Right behind them, stood the terrifying Darth Vader.

"Ah, Lord Vader, shall we began our discourse?" Kairos spoke up, bowing to him, to which I silently followed his action.

"As always King Kairos." Lord Vader responded. The three of us, alongside the stormtrooper and our guards made our way to the conference hall.

-

The meeting was long and agonizing, as per usual. Kairos would argue for a larger price, the opposing party would try to bargain for a lower price, and yadda yadda.

Though this was your first meeting with the Emperor's apprentice, you have to stay, you weren't as intimidated as you thought you were. Yeah, you've heard grisly stories about the Sith Lord and cruel he can be, but after having to sit 2 hours straight across from him wasn't as bad. However, you did feel small under his gaze. His attention may be focused on your husband, but you couldn't help but sense the seeking glances from the Sith Lord himself from time to time.

"Perhaps we could ask your wife about her thoughts on this matter." Vader's mechanical voice shook you out of your thoughts and brought you back to reality. You looked at your husband, then at Lord Vader, before speaking up.

"Well, I do think it's possible to increase production and have our men producing 20,000 TIE fighters per week the next four weeks with the price of 7,000,000 Imperial credits." You offered, the amount that was way less than what your husband had originally offer, that being 20,000,000. Kairos feigned a smile as he squeezed your thigh in response to your offer, indicating that he was not satisfied with the amount you've offered to Lord Vader.

"We have a deal. I will return in two weeks to see the progress. It was a pleasure doing business with you as always King Kairos." The Sith Lord responded, now standing abruptly from his seat. Both Kairos and I followed suit. Kairos shaking his hand with Lord Vader, sealing the deal.

"And I see you have a wife. From what I recall, I don't remember you being married." The Sith Lord piqued. I adverted my gaze away from Lord Vader's intense gaze. Kairos squeezed my arm before speaking up.

"Well, we haven't been married that long Lord Vader. We had just gotten married shortly after our last meeting, so it's been 4 months." Kairos smiled down at me, to which I returned. "You will see her more often in our future encounters my Lord."

"I look forward to them." Vader responded, eyeing me up and down once more. Kairos and I assist Vader and his stormtroopers to his ship on the landing pad. After watching his ship depart, Kairos releases his arm from mine and walks back inside the palace, into his private chambers. I sigh to myself, watching Lord Vader's ship fly off in the horizon, before making my way into my chambers.

-

He couldn't put a finger on it, but something about you stirred something inside him. He didn't want to stare at you for too long, he knew it would make you uncomfortable, but there was just something about you that seemed familiar. Upon landing on the landing pad, he felt a faint force signature. Though you cut off yourself off from the force two years ago, some parts of you still lingered in the force.

After Vader's departure from the palace, he hadn't left the planet's atmosphere yet. In fact, his ship was on autopilot in the sky as he was busy sending a message to his master to tell him his discovery. Vader had a mission to get rid of every last Jedi, whether it meant to turn them into inquisitors or kill them off entirely.

"Master, it would seem I've made a discovery." Vader spoke to the blue figure on the holotable to his ship.

"And what would that discovery be Lord Vader?" The Emperor's tone sounding a bit impatient at his apprentice's words.

"It would appear that Queen of Lianna could be a force-sensitive individual, Master."

"Is that so my apprentice? What an interesting discovery... Perhaps we could turn her into a pawn, or a weapon... I would keep an eye on this one, Lord Vader. Perhaps she is a lot stronger with the force than we may realize." The Emperor responded, somewhat surprised that a Jedi had found themselves entangled in a royal family.

"Yes my master." Vader responded before the figure of Palpatine disappeared from the holotable. He had a new objective now. Vader wanted to alter the deal now. Instead of visiting in two weeks to check on the progress, he in fact, wanted to oversee the progress every day until he had gotten his TIE fighters. With this, Vader had made his way back to the palace.

-

"Your Majesty! You must come quickly!" Chira, your handmaiden had barged into your chambers. Unsure what was happening, you dropped the book you were reading and followed her.

"What's the matter Chira? Has something happened?" You asked, both of you fastening your pace in the direction of the throne room.

"I-it's Lord Vader. He came back...The King requested your presence." Chira huffed out. Both you and Chira arrived outside the tall doors to the throne room. You took a deep breath and corrected your posture before entering the room. The doors slowly opened, revealing the backsides of numerous stormtroopers and Lord Vader. Kairos, was seated on his throne, talking to Lord Vader when you caught his attention.

"My love, come." Kairos stood up, gesturing for you to come sit in your throne next to his. The stormtroopers and Lord Vader turn around to face you as you hurriedly made your way over to your royal seat.

"I have altered the deal. I will be overseeing the progress on the TIE fighters from now." Darth Vader's voice echoed throughout the room. You nervously looked over at your husband, unsure what he had gotten yourselves into.

"Y-Yes, your Lord. May I ask-"

"There will be no questions. I ask that you will provide my men lodging and meals for the duration of their stay." The Sith Lord interrupted him. To which Kairos could do nothing about nod enthusiastically at Lord Vader's requests. "Tomorrow, you will provide me a tour of your facilities as I will begin to oversee all production of my TIE fighters."

"Of course my Lord." Kairos stood up, bowing to Lord Vader. You sat there, staring at your husband, anxious of what was yet to come.

-

"What the hell was that Kairos?!" You exclaimed. Both you and Kairos were having another one of your disputes in his chambers once again. This time, it was about Lord Vader's little vacation at the palace and overseeing the planet's assets. "When are you going to stop kissing the Empire ass and stand up for yourself for once?"

"I had no choice Y/N! Have you forgotten that Lord Vader and the Emperor are the most cruel and powerful beings in this star system?! They'll cut off my arm if I were to disagree with them." Kairos retorted. You scoffed at the same excuse he had used ever since you brought this topic up. "The Empire is funding our planet. We are an asset to the Empire. We're becoming richer and richer with every TIE fighter and Imperial weapons we sell them. With this, we can help our people."

"I don't know want to hear it anymore Kairos. Our people still suffer at the hands of the Empire, whether it is happening directly or indirectly." You made your way to the door. "You may not see it now, but the damage done to the planet and the people will be irreparable when you come to your senses." With that, you slammed the door your husband's door shut. You huffed out in frustration, your heels clicking on the marble flooring as you stormed toward your chambers. Little did you know, Vader was around the corner, eavesdropping on the argument that you and Kairos had moments ago. The Sith Lord smiled to himself, realizing that he use this to further manipulate the King of Lianna with the knowledge that his marriage was crippling.

-

After taking a long soak in your bath and finishing your nighttime routine, you were eager to get some rest. Shutting the lamp on your nightstand, you began to snooze off.

Images of being in the Jedi Temple began to flood your dreams. Realizing what your mind was doing, you tried to shut down those dreams, worried that it would pull you deeper into the force and down the path of memories that you did not want to relive. But what you didn't know, Darth Vader was in the meditation chambers that the Lianna medical staff and engineers had constructed for the Sith Lord. Darth Vader was using the force to encourage you to reveal yourself. There was something oddly familiar about you that made him curious.

After trying to get into your mind, he couldn't. Either you had nothing interesting going in your mind or that you were really good at blocking him out. Vader knew he had to be careful. He couldn't give away his true intentions to why he was here on the planet of Lianna. Yes, he and Palpatine need the TIE fighters, however this is different now. A force-sensitive woman who was a Queen was the topic interest at the moment. Plus, Vader needed to be away from the Death Star. Staring at the dark gray walls and into hyperspace just wasn't cutting it for him. Luckily the planet of Lianna was filled with lush gardens and vast lakes that Vader and his men could enjoy the duration of their stay.

-

next part: It's Been A Long Time, Old Friend (Part II)

[womanman]

The Similarities Between Biphobia and Transmultiphobia

I am a multigender bisexual. Before I began to focus my efforts into transgender and multigender activism, I was BIG into bisexual activism. But, because of this, I’ve noticed something peculiar… Something that other multigenders have noticed too.

A lot of modern-day transmultiphobia (particularly those directed towards those who are both male and female) is, quite simply (and I mean this in a very literal way), repackaged biphobia from the peak of biphobic discourse.

This includes, but isn’t limited to:

The “fence-sitter” perspective. Multigenders and bisexuals are seen as sitting on the fence of the binary. We can belong in both communities (gay and straight, male and female). But because of this ability to be in both, we are not allowed into either.

This is because of us being seen as “tainted by the other gender,” or as an “invader”. Both the idea that bisexuals are less “purely” WLW or MLM than their gay counterparts, and the “men vs non-men” dichotomy that we’re seeing be put up, are evidence of this. When it comes to discussion gay and lesbian M/F multigenders, this comparison is very apt. I mean, “your association with men / women has made you unable to belong with us” is VERY on the nose.

The view that it’s “just a phase.” Both existence as a bisexual and as a multigender, from my experience, is seen as something you will go through before you “choose a side”, before you “settle down” with a real, PROPER choice. One of the two choices that you’re given, rather than both.

Making people angry because of how we make them insecure. “If this person attracted to men and women can belong in the queer community,” wonders the biphobe, “What does that mean for the state of my queerness?” And likewise, the transmultiphobe asks, “If this person is both a man and a woman, then what does that mean for my attraction?”

I believe that this is because bisexuality and multigenderism both have… “Both.” In a world, with a binary, that expects — DEMANDS — that you pick either/or, saying “both” (or, heaven forbid, “both, and…”) will always be met with extreme rejection and isolation.

Multigender and bisexual activists could learn a lot from each other. We are so often told to hide or cut off one part of ourselves in order to fit into some sort of (any sort of!) set of norms, and to conform to the male/female binary. We fuck with people’s views of sexuality and gender merely by existing, and we are nothing short of revolutionary for that reason.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Just as the Arab is always involved in Jewish Israeli discourse, the tree is always uninvolved. What could be ‘involved’ about planting a tree? A tree is a tree is a tree. And trees are not only uninvolved, they are good. ‘Ecologists usually portray nature as a domain of intrinsic value’, writes geography and law scholar Irus Braverman in her book, Planted Flags: Trees, Land, and Law in Israel/Palestine. Trees are assumed to be natural, innocent ecological entities with no say in politics. But in this conflict, which is largely a conflict over land – with two national movements contesting the same territory – digging below the surface shows that trees have been used strategically to seize, hold and control territory. They are used as tools ‘almost as if they were weapons’, writes Shaul Ephraim Cohen in his book, The Politics of Planting.  It is in Israel’s interest for trees to appear uninvolved, resulting in a process that Braverman calls ‘naturalisation’, meaning the portrayal of ecological changes as ‘natural’ or otherwise inevitable, and the use of the innocence of nature to cloak an ethno-national agenda. Indeed, Braverman’s book was originally titled Tree Wars before her publisher asked for a more marketable title. The message is clear: trees are part of a ‘covert war’ that mobilises ecology to fix and create geopolitical facts in the region, largely through the actions of the KKL-JNF – Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael, or the Jewish National Fund. The Jerusalem Forest, where I myself planted a pine sapling at the age of six, is a creation of the KKL-JNF, which planted a greenbelt of parks in the Judaean Hills west of the city in the 1950s and 1960s. Later, after Israel captured East Jerusalem – and the entire West Bank – from Jordanian control and ‘reunified’ it in 1967, this forest was expanded eastwards, across the Green Line. Like two-thirds of the 400,000 acres of forests managed by the KKL-JNF, the Jerusalem Forest is not scientifically classified as a ‘natural forest’ like the native stands of Mediterranean oak, terebinth and carob in the wetter parts of northern Israel. It is a distinctly human creation, with large monocultural stands of Aleppo pine trees of the same age. Ecologically, these pines are considered a ‘pioneer species’: growing quickly, requiring little maintenance and colonising what is considered, in the Zionist imaginary, to be ‘barren’ land.  Colonisation is precisely the point of afforestation. The KKL-JNF is a Zionist and quasi-governmental agency that was founded in 1901 as the paramount institution for buying and holding land for Jewish settlement in what was then Ottoman Palestine. The organisation bought land from local Palestinian residents and then began foresting or farming the land to demonstrate their presence and provide protection from land alienation. Today the KKL-JNF is still the largest private landholder in the region, owning 13 per cent of Israeli territory. Braverman describes the KKL-JNF as Israel’s ‘land-laundering body’, as the state employs the agency’s non-governmental status to hold vast swathes of land for exclusively Jewish use without fear of being labelled discriminatory. While the KKL-JNF performs many quasi-governmental tasks such as building roads, dams and farms, it is best known today for its campaigns to rehabilitate ‘degraded’ forests and plant new ones. The KKL-JNF claims to have planted 250 million trees over the past 120 years. 

[...]

After 1948, when the State of Israel was founded and more than 750,000 Palestinians were forcibly expelled from their land, the KKL-JNF began planting forests over Palestinian villages to prevent their residents from returning. The KKL-JNF felt that trees were, in their words, ‘the best guards of the land … Walls and fences can be cut down. A tree says “we are here”’. After planting, tree law protected new forests from demolition. This legal aspect was critical for afforestation’s success in capturing, occupying and controlling the land. It is part of what Braverman terms the ‘lawfare’ of the state, meaning an imperialist’s use of their own rules to impose a regime, which is then legitimised by its own legal structure. Israeli courts have determined that when a forest is grown on expropriated land, Palestinians who return to that land are trespassing. In 2010, the Supreme Court rejected a petition by Palestinian refugees from the village of al-Lajjun to reclaim land in the Megiddo forest, ruling that afforestation justified Israeli control under the 1953 Land Acquisition Law. As both Cohen and Braverman note then, short of human inhabitation, trees were considered the most effective tool to hold and control land for the Jewish state. What this meant, in practice, was that if there weren’t enough Jews to settle the land, the state used trees instead – as stand-ins for Jewish bodies.  The flip side of Israel controlling land through Jewish tree presence is expropriating Palestinian land through absence. Nowhere is this clearer than in the paradoxical legal status of the so-called ‘present absentees’, Palestinians who were internally displaced after the 1948 war. Under Israeli law, they lost their land deeds because they failed to prove ownership with a physical presence, even though many were driven from that land by violence. Israeli laws governing ‘Absentees’ Property’ have expropriated a startling 70 per cent of Israeli territory within the Green Line. Palestinian ‘absence’ was sloganised long before 1948 in the Zionist saying, ‘A land without a people for a people without a land’, which epitomises a deep failure and unwillingness to recognise native Palestinian inhabitation.

19 October 2021

[oldgayjew]

Since support for Hamass and the Palestinians and the condemnation of Israel is "freedom of speech" I figured that turn about is fair play ...

(1) Hamass is a murdering, raping lying terrorist organization which has stated (in it's charter) that it's sole intention is the elimination of Israel with the death of all Jews ...

(2) Back in 1947, when the land was divided into Arab lands and Jewish (bought and paid for) lands by the U.N. the Arab League confiscated the Arab Land, divided it among it's members and declared war on Israel ...

(3) Palestine was always a region of the Middle East under Ottoman, Syrian or Jordanian rule but never an actual nation because the Arab states used it as a dumping ground for undesirables and gradually left it as a wasteland ...

(4) Jews have always lived in the Land Beyond the River, as noted in the book of Ezra, and began buying unwanted land from Arabs in the 1880's and turning it into useful land ...

(5) The hills of Jerusalem were bought by King David and became the capitol city of Judea ...

(6) "Palestine" is a later version of "Philestia" which was the name that the Roman general Hadrian called Judea after conquering it ...

(7) Jews have lived in Israel for about 1,000 years before there were Muslims anywhere ...

(8) The so-called "2-State Solution" has been rejected by the Muslim Arabs every time it's been offered ...

(9) Support for Hamass and the Palestinians is the ultimate example of "Preferred Human Stupidity" and the "Go-along-to-get-along" mindset that's been blindly adopted by those who've never had to think and are incapable of independent thought or rational discourse ...

(10) Hamass doesn't give a camel's ass about Gaza civilians, a Palestinian State or any of their professional student supporters on college campuses ...

I apologize if I've repeated this too often but some people don't want to hear it so ...

[kenmakodz]

CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷

12. jealousy ☆

writing in-between cuts!

after heading back to your dorm for the night, and many games of uno later (many, many games. toge is a sore loser), the time finally came for maki, toge and yuuta to head back to their rooms. it had already been decided earlier on in the night that the group would stay with you, considering you have no roommates, and the four of you have had countless sleepovers in the past. yuuji came up with a plan for tomorrow to go to the movies, and a collective sigh came from your friend group. "yuuji, we are not going to see the same movie you've already watched six times." nobara flicks the back of his head, leaning onto the couch. megumi makes a ‘tsk’ noise with his tongue, watching the pink-haired boy rub the flicked spot as if it hurt ten times more. "i don't think a movie is a bad idea, though" maki shrugs, walking beside her girlfriend. "maybe one none of us have seen." she snickers, trying not to make it obvious, yet definitely testing the waters on whether or not she can tease him about it. he simply sighs and leans back, rolling his eyes like a dramatic teenager. "fine, but you'll all regret it!" "....riiiiight"

toge eyes yuuta for what seemed like forever while the rest began to discuss sleeping arrangements, and it only causes more discourse in the poor boys head. out of the corner of your eye, you catch him waving to you and mouthing a small "goodnight" before slipping out the door. you sigh, wondering why he wouldn't come up to you personally and say goodbye for the night like everybody else did.

something is definitely up with him.

fun facts -> toge does know something yuuta doesn't know, he just wants to be a little shit about it. thats like, his brand. it's nothing super crazy, but remember when he was waiting outside the store with yuuji and megumi? yeah, yuuta doesn't.

-> sorry for a short update this time! :( it will get better i swear aha...

previous, masterlist, next [13. ???]

taglist is open! @just-a-girlblogger @moryymor @swissy23 @hanyacoded @sereniteav @k4romis @jayathelostdragon @h3rmess @olivandeee @lysaray @ari3000dontcare @raechu11 @marifujioka @nyxlai @sonicsolos @saltypuffin1040 @r0ckst4rjk @h8ani @lmaolmaolmao @maya-maya-56 @mittensdun @adrenova @pnkblueberry @morgyyyyyyy @chososwh0r3 @lunecqm @r4veeen @arivsx @levlucs-kiru @mellozhi @sad-darksoul @ichorstainedskin @phoenix-eclipses @h3xi2g0n3 @eternalalmondd @en40p @love-jelly @kaeichi @vianna99 @dreamxiing @satoryaa @0range-juiceee @you-always-made-me-blush

if you are in bold, i am unable to tag you :( and if i forgot to add you, PLEASE YELL AT ME

⤷ © kenmakodz

[necroworldbanshee]

After Tumblr put yet another post about the who’s-mdzs-narrator discourse on my dashboard (and a very insulting one at that) I’m starting to wonder… does English storytelling work in a different way from how it works in my language? Or it’s just that nobody here can tell narrator from pov?

This is going to be long.

[Disclaimer: since I'm not from an English-speaking country, I never actually studied storytelling in English, so I might not knows the correct English term for everything.]

In both my first and my second language, we have:

Narrator = the one that narrates the story. It can be internal (a character narrates) or external.

Focus = the point of view from which the story is narrated. It can be internal (one or more characters pov), external (objective narration) or zero (the narrator knows* everthing = omniscient narrator).

*knowing everything =/= telling everything

Sometimes you have an external narrator with an internal focus, but that doesn’t make the character which pov we're seeing the narrator.

Internal focus might also change during the narration. Different sections (chapters, paragraphs, sentences...) of the story might use different povs.

If there’s a single pov for the whole story, that’s called fixed internal focus. If two or more povs alternate, it’s called variable internal focus. If the story has two or more parallel povs, that’s a multiple internal focus.

And you don’t need to take writing/reading classes or be an author to know this. It is literally in my 7 y/o nephew's summer homeworks.

Anyway, in mdzs we have:

Narrator speak in third person = external narrator. Easy.

Narrator knows everything that happened, in every moment and in every place, knows characters' thoughts and feelings = zero focus / omniscient narrator. Still... easy? At least, I think that's easy.

I think what confuses people here is that we get mostly Wei Wuxian's thoughts and feelings, but... that's because this is Wei Wuxian's story, you know? It doesn't mean the narrator doesn't have access to other characters thoughts/feelings. It's just that (most of the time) they're not important for Wei Wuxian's story.

Also, not every omniscient narrator has to tell us everything from the begging. That's actually a quite old-fashioned type of narration.

In any case, it's not like we don't get other characters' povs ever.

For exemple:

Jiang Cheng seethed. He very much hadn’t expected this outing to be so wretched. Originally, he had come to help Jin Ling, who would turn fifteen this year and thus should be embarking on his career, competing with other juniors for experience and reputation. Jiang Cheng had carefully sifted through the options before choosing Dafan Mountain as their hunting grounds, and then covered the area with nets to scare off cultivators from other clans. Because the nets would make navigation very difficult, they would have no option but to leave, thus eliminating the competition and leaving the prey to Jin Ling. Though four hundred spirit-binding nets cost an exorbitant price, it wasn’t much to the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. The actual destruction of the nets was a small issue—the big issue was the loss of face. The fact that Lan Wangji had done such a thing made bitter resentment bleed from his heart and circulate up towards his head—the higher it got, the more resentful he became. He narrowed his eyes, and unconsciously or not, began stroking the ring around his right index finger with his left hand.

[from "Pride II", Fanyiyi's tl]

Here we have Jiang Cheng’s pov. The narrator tells us Jiang Cheng's previous actions, his thoughts and his feelings. This couldn't happen if the narrator was Wei Wuxian.

And then again:

“Sizhui, you’re the most mature of everyone. Take care of them. Do you think you’re up to it?” Lan Sizhui nodded. “Don’t be afraid,” Wei Wuxian said again. “I’m not afraid,” he replied. “Truly?” “Truly.” Lan Sizhui even smiled. “Senior Mo, you and Hanguang Jun are really similar.” “Similar?” Wei Wuxian said with surprise. “How are we similar?” He and Lan Wangji were clearly as different as the heavens and the Earth. But Lan Sizhui just smiled, said nothing, and led the remaining people outside. I don’t know either, he thought silently. But you two just feel similar. It feels as though as long as one of you two seniors is present, I don’t need to be scared of anything.

[from "Flora V", Fanyiyi's tl]

Here we can see both Wei Wuxian's and Lan Sizhui's thoughts. A very big and clear sign of omniscient narrator.

Another thing that people in this fandom don't get the way I expect them to is the difference between an omniscient narrator and an external narrator with variable or multiple internal focus. This might be tricky I guess, but mdzs doesn't have an alternation of povs, nor parallel povs. So, still omniscient narrator.

And, before someone says "but that's just because mdzs switches between fixed internal (from Wei Wuxian’s pov) and zero focus": fixed means fixed. If it changes every other sentence to add informations the character doesn’t know, it’s by definition omniscient! Omniscient narration doesn’t have limitations. It already includes every character pov and much more. You don’t need anything else!

So, mdzs has an external narrator with zero focus (= omniscient narrator) that narrates Wei Wuxian's story and sometimes withholds informations for plot reasons. And I don't think that makes it an unreliable narrator**. That's just standard narration to me.

Now, given my non-existent knowledge about English literature, what I’d like to know is: do these things work differently in English? Or people on Tumblr should just open a book from time to time?

Not that it really matters, since mdzs isn’t an English novel. What we should actually wonder is how Chinese storytelling works.

** Unreliable narration should be about the narrator's credibility, not about how many informations it gives you and if they're presented plainly/in a transparent way or not. About this, I've once read a really good article about how nowadays it's the reader that has become unreliable, in the sense that the reader doesn't even try to understand the story or make deductions anymore.

[mysafehaneul]

AQUAMARINE: EPILOGUE

April Showers (M)

Dedication: For my girls, who like like their men secure and obsessed.

JEON WONWOO X READER

WORDS: 14k+

SERIES MASTERLIST

GENRE: ARRANGE CONTRACT MARRIAGE AU! ENEMIES TO LOVERS!

FLUFF!FLUFF!AND SMUT (I THINK WE HAD ENOUGH ANGST FOR 8 CHAPTERS)

A/N: So, I guess this is it huh? well Happy Reading!!

4 years ago Zurich, Switzerland KIU

Noella entered the lecture room, a spacious gallery-style classroom with long wooden benches and rows of paintings adorning the walls. The large windows bathed the room in natural light, and it felt more like an art gallery than a typical lecture hall. She quietly pushed the door open and entered, the soft creak of the hinges barely audible over the lecturer's voice.

The professor at the front of the room, Jeonghan, continued with his lecture on the definition of meaning during the Enlightenment era. He stood confidently in front of the class, with a relaxed yet engaging demeanour. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, giving him an air of intelligence.

As Noella found a seat at the back of the room and settled in, her eyes met Jeonghan's for a brief moment. There was a flash of recognition, but he didn't let it disrupt the flow of his lecture. With a warm smile and a nod, he acknowledged her presence before returning to his discourse.

"During the Enlightenment," he began, his voice both soothing and authoritative, "philosophers like Voltaire and Rousseau grappled with the concept of meaning. What does it mean to lead a meaningful life? Is it found in the pursuit of knowledge, happiness, or something more profound?"

The students listened intently as Jeonghan paced gracefully across the front of the room. His words were thought-provoking, encouraging his students to consider the philosophical inquiries of the past and apply them to their own lives.

She couldn't help but be captivated by his lecture, not only because of the subject matter but also because of the way he presented it. She had known Jeonghan for years, and seeing him in his element was both familiar and awe-inspiring.

He continued, "Voltaire famously stated, 'Judge a man by his questions rather than his answers.' This is a profound notion because it encourages us to continuously seek understanding. In an era marked by intellectual growth, philosophers challenged the status quo and sought to unravel the mysteries of existence."

The students absorbed the wisdom he shared, their eyes reflecting the curiosity sparked by his teaching.

Jeonghan, with his usual eloquence, continued his lecture, delving into the void that exists within humanity, a craving for meaning that often goes unnoticed. He cited Nietzsche's concept of this void, the insatiable longing for purpose that some fill immediately with their surroundings and become fervent devotees of a cause, never realizing the hollowness they've concealed. "The process of discovering that void for the first time," he explained, "is a pivotal moment in our lives. It's when we come to the stark realization that something is lacking in that department."

As he spoke, Jeonghan gestured passionately, his words resonating with the students. "Albert Camus presents us with an ultimate example of struggle and suffering, only to have our efforts amount to nothing. This is a metaphor for life, for Camus. We exist in a vast, inconceivably large, and complex universe, and with every step we take, we're battling against a tidal wave of forces that could end our existence at any moment."

He paced back and forth at the front of the class, emphasizing the challenges of human existence. "We live through good times and endure bad ones, all while accepting the reality that the universe, in all its grandeur, couldn't care less about our individual actions. It's true that in a humanistic lens, what we do matters within the microcosm of our lives, but on the universal scale, we're a mere speck on an ordinary galaxy. The sun will eventually explode in 5 billion years, and our existence will come to a definitive end."

Jeonghan's eyes scanned the room, and he implored his students to consider the meaning of all their suffering, effort, and sacrifice. "Where does it all lead? At the end of the day, we're like Sisyphus, condemned to push the rock up the hill only for it to roll back down, forcing us to begin again. But in our condemnation, we should strive not to agonize over the process but to find enjoyment in the act of pushing the boulder as far as we can."

He paused, his gaze intense, and then continued. "The experience and reflection come into play. What we're reflecting upon may appear meaningless to outsiders, but when we are experiencing it, it means the world. Yet, at what point do we realize it's all meaningless? It's the moment we stop being present, take a step back, and question why we're doing this in the first place. We look around and condemn it all as meaningless. This is where the concept of meaning comes into play."

Jeonghan raised a finger, emphasizing the contrast between reflection and lived experience. "When we reflect, we stop doing whatever we're engaged in, and we use our capacity for reason to ask questions. But it's important to recognize how presumptuous this entire process is. We apply this tool of reason to the universe, attempting to derive conclusions, yet what if the reason isn't the right tool for the job?"

He took a deep breath before continuing. "Reflections and reason, as human capacities, may not be the right tools to determine the meaning or meaninglessness of the things we do. What if, instead, we focus on the task at hand, to immerse ourselves fully in what we care about? Reflection is valuable, and a necessary part of life, but it can lead to diminishing returns. If you reflect too much, the only thing it'll do is deteriorate the quality of your lived experience."

As the lecture neared its conclusion, Jeonghan's eyes sparkled with a sense of purpose and resolution. "Embrace the absurdity of the universe, and then immerse yourself fully in the tasks you care about. Just like Sisyphus, who made the rock his own, we should learn to love what we do. Appreciate the grooves in the rock, the hindrances in your path, and the patterns to success. Love what you're doing without constantly pondering if it will have any meaning. After all, if the ultimate doom is inevitable, if everything will cease to exist, why not live and die doing what you love and believe in? Enjoy every moment of pushing your own boulder, and do it with passion and determination."

With a final nod and a warm smile, Jeonghan concluded his lecture on the meaning of life during the Enlightenment era.

As the students packed their bags, Jeonghan left them with a parting comment. "Remember, class, your term papers are due at the end of this week. And my sincere condolences to any grandparents, uncles, and aunts who are going to meet their end at 11:59 on the 29th."

The room filled with a mixture of laughter and groans, the students either appreciating Jeonghan's dark humor or dreading the impending deadline. Noella gathered her belongings, slinging her purse over her shoulder, and made her way down to Jeonghan's desk.

"That was impressive, Dr. Yoon," she complimented him with a warm smile.

"Thank you, but what brings you here?" Jeonghan inquired.

"Oh, the dean just invited me to give a speech for the department," she explained. "Our company is going to join one of the on-campus recruiting events, so I thought I'd see what you've been up to."

Jeonghan nodded in understanding. "Ah, that sounds interesting. Want to catch up over lunch?"

Noella’s laughter rang through the classroom. "Of course, it's not like we didn't meet for dinner last night." The two of them shared a friendly chuckle before leaving the classroom.

........

........

Present day.

London.

The morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft glow in the hotel suite. Empty bottles still littered the room, and discarded shirts and pants were strewn across the furniture. Wonwoo slept soundly on the bed, his deep slumber undisturbed even by the honking of cars on the street below. The sound was just background noise until it eventually stirred him. His hand reached out, searching for you, but the spot next to him was empty. A sense of panic rushed through him, and he jolted awake.

He looked around the room, his eyes darting from one corner to another. The droplets of tears on his pillows from the night before served as a painful reminder. "No…" he groaned, his heart sinking as he believed that you had left him.

As the ensuite washroom doors opened, you walked out, dressed in the clothes you had worn to Jeonghan's wedding. Your hair was still damp as you towel-dried it. You stood in front of the mirror, unaware of the emotional turmoil Wonwoo had just experienced.

However, his reaction was quite different from what you expected. Wonwoo dashed from the bed, letting the quilt fall to the floor, and enveloped you in a tight hug from behind. "I thought you left," he confessed.

"Shall I pinch you to make sure I'm still here?" you teased, but he remained mostly silent, holding onto you. As you began to apply moisturizers to your arms and neck, you spoke again. "Babe, I appreciate the affection, but can you please shower? We have to pick up Noel and then head to the airport."

You looked up at the mirror to catch his reflection. His hand was nestled against your neck as if he were sleeping while standing. You couldn't help but question the abundance of bottles in the room, asking, "By the way, why are there so many bottles?"

Wonwoo cleared his throat, a bit flustered. "You're right; I should shower."

With that, he planted a kiss on your clothed shoulder and headed to the shower, leaving you to roll your eyes at his antics. As you got ready for the day ahead, you couldn't help but think about the significant conversation you'd had with him the previous night

The previous day, you had called Jeonghan to assure him that you were safe. After shouting and sobbing at you for 15 minutes finally left for his Honeymoon and left Noel with Leila for the night. You and Wonwoo had spent the evening talking, staring from your whole trajectory of Noella and Joshua to Nikolia's death threats.

Now, in the hotel suite, you finished putting on your shoes when Wonwoo emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He began to dress in a black suit, and as you watched him, your eyes couldn't help but linger on the marks your nails had left on his defined back. You quickly looked away, back to the task at hand.

After buttoning and tucking in his shirt, Wonwoo rolled up his sleeves, leaving his veined forearms exposed. You picked up your earrings when he softly called your name, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Hmm," you replied, struggling to clasp the earring lock.

Wonwoo walked closer, stopping beside you. Both of your reflections were visible in the full-length mirror. When you finally managed to clasp the lock, you let out a sigh of relief and reached for the other one when he took your left hand in his and turned you to face him. His thumb traced soothing patterns on your knuckles as he began to speak.

"I know our beginning was far from perfect, but even with its imperfections, it has given me something more than I could wish for. Today, as we walk out of this room, I want us to step into a new beginning—a future where there are no more secrets, no more contracts, just us and Noel. I know I don't deserve you, but I'm willing to humble myself before you."

Wonwoo then got down on one knee, and your eyes widened. A soft gasp escaped your lips as he continued, "I will try every day to prove myself worthy of you if you'll have me."

With trembling hands, he unclenched his fingers to reveal your wedding ring. "Wonu…" you whispered, a lump rising in your throat.

His eyes glistened with tears as he spoke from his heart. "I don't know when it happened, y/n. There were times when I even detested people who changed entirely when they entered a relationship. After Eleanor, I didn't bother seeking that kind of connection. But here I am, on my knees, asking my wife to let me love her, to allow me into her heart. Will you, y/n?"

The tears blurred your vision, but you managed to nod vigorously. Wonwoo carefully slid the ring onto your finger, and as he stood up, he immediately pulled you into a tight hug, overwhelmed with emotions.

As you and Wonwoo walked out of the suite and into the parlor, you were slightly surprised to see four tall, equally buff, and slightly intimidating men standing in the middle of the room. You glanced at your husband with a quizzical expression, and he gave your back a gentle push, saying, "Don't worry, they are your and Noel's new bodyguards."

You blinked in astonishment and turned to look at the four men who were still standing in a respectful bow. "Wonu, I don't need bodyguards," you protested.

Wonwoo gestured to the men to rise and wait outside before addressing your concerns. "Y/n, I am well aware that you're capable of protecting yourself, but I'm not taking any risks or having any discussion on this matter. Please, darling, humor me. You won't even notice them. They've been following you and Noel since the day you arrived."

You hesitated, wanting to argue further, but his words made sense. "But it looks awkward to walk around with guards like…"

"Y/n, although I'm gravely grateful to Noel's grandfather, I can't forget or forgive what his son did," Wonwoo declared with determination. "You have to realize that you're not just an L/N anymore; you're a Jeon now. I'll be damned if I even allow a fly to harm my wife."

Before you could say anything in response, Wonwoo sealed his statement with a tender peck on your lips and began walking toward the exit, your hands clasped together as you followed him.

........

.........

Nikolia found himself in a disorienting darkness, tied securely to a cold, unforgiving chair. He struggled to grasp any sense of time, all memory of the past hours and days escaping him. After his arrest, he had been transported to an undisclosed location, but he had no way of knowing for how long he had been in this inky abyss. The van that brought him here had taken a bizarre turn into the unknown, and that's when the men had covered his face, shrouding him in a suffocating blackness.

His desperate cries and frenzied curses echoed in the void, but they were swallowed by the oppressive silence that clung to him like a shroud. The journey had been a nightmare, a cacophony of fear and dread. When the vehicle finally stopped, his captors grabbed him and dragged him into this unseen space.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and he heard footsteps approach. His heart raced as the men, with hands like steel, grabbed him and removed the blindfold that had been his only connection to the world. A rush of blinding light stabbed at his eyes, and he squinted, disoriented, and dazzled.

Nikolia's first instinct was to struggle against the restraints that bound him to the chair. "Let go of me, you bastard! You're messing with the wrong man here, All I need is one phone call and your whole family is done for" he yelled, the defiance in his voice strained with anger and frustration.

Wonwoo, took a languid drag from his cigarette, his eyes hidden beneath a veneer of cold detachment. "Am I?" He arched one meticulously groomed eyebrow as a henchman in the room landed a brutal punch on Nikolia's face, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through his body. Blood sprayed from his mouth as the impact made his jaw rattle.

As the coppery tang of blood mingled with the acrid scent of tobacco, Wonwoo continued, seemingly unperturbed." you know Nikolia, when I first saw you in the court I understood what a weakling you are, tch, such a waste of a pretty face" Wonwoo tilted his head to the side, as though pondering an intriguing conundrum. "You didn't even have the caliber to fight like a man. If you wanted the money all you had to do was come and beg us"

Nonchalantly, Wonwoo discarded his cigarette and crushed it underfoot, further emphasizing his indifference to Nikolia's suffering. "But no," he continued, rising from his seat with calculated elegance, "you had no go and get yourself get fucked over by your own stupidity"

Wonwoo seized Nikolia by the hair, his grip merciless, and forced him to meet his unrelenting gaze." you should've known your enemy before messing with them, if you get the chance from all the bending, ask who Jeon bo Hyuk was" With those ominous words, Wonwoo swung a heavy fist, striking Nikolia squarely across the cheekbones. The sudden, blinding pain sent white spots dancing before Nikolia's eyes. "That's for even thinking about harming my wife" He gasped as the warmth of blood gushed from his nose.

For a brief moment, Wonwoo stood above him, an imposing figure against the harsh light, before he delivered another devastating blow," and that's on behalf of Noel" he declared, his voice laced with cold fury.

The room filled with the dissonant sounds of Nikolia's choking gasps and labored breathing.

The man in the black suit handed Wonwoo a towel, while behind Nikolia, a maniacal laugh and a series of painful coughs echoed. Nikolia's laughter, punctuated by bloodied gums, grated on the nerves of everyone present, "You're gonna regret this bell boy"

Without turning to face him, Wonwoo retorted, "And what are you going to do, tattle to Yunho?"

Nikolia's eyes widened in alarm as Wonwoo turned to the man in the black suit and commanded, "Return him to Richardson, make sure to tell him to treat him with so much care that he regains his faith in god again"

With a murmured "Yes, boss," the men swiftly began the process of transporting Nikolia out of this nightmarish confrontation.

"And to think," Nikolia sneered, even in his bloodied and beaten state, "that bitch has you wrapped around her finger. I guess her pussy has that effect I still rememb--""

Before he could complete his sentence, Wonwoo's fist struck with unrestrained force, and the chair, still bound to Nikolia's body, fell to the ground. The world swirled into a whirlpool of darkness as Nikolia's consciousness slipped away. Wonwoo gazed down at the battered and broken Nikolia, his voice laced with icy authority. "Rule of the thumb, you keep my wife's name out of your mouth," he declared, the weight of his words bearing down upon the man.

(A/N: Dude why didn't I made wonwoo mafia opens another wip )

........

........

One Month later

The evening of the 75th Anniversary gala was marked by an air of anticipation as you sat in a plush chair, the skilled hands of your makeup artist, Ashton, expertly crafting your hair into a glamorous masterpiece. You held a phone call with Racheal, going over the final details for the night.

"Make sure no more than five interviews," you instructed, your voice firm.

"That's done," Racheal confirmed promptly. "Each will get 2 minutes, and no personal questions."

"Good," you replied with a nod. "Are you there yet?"

Racheal's voice sounded through the phone, "No, just about to reach."

"Okay, then drive safe," you told her before ending the call. The preparations were in full swing as you adorned a stunning red-plated off-shoulder cape dress with a high slit. The fabric draped elegantly around your form, exuding an air of regal sophistication.

Just as you were getting ready, there came a discreet knock at the door. Chan, who had once stood as a symbol of discord between you and Wonwoo, now entered the room, holding a blue box in his hands. While things had improved between him and Chan, the tension still lingered his presence often an uncomfortable reminder of past misunderstandings. Wonwoo was prepared to go so far as to fire Chan in his act of contrition. However, you intervened, reminding him, "Why should someone else suffer for something you initiated?"

"Mr. Jeon sent you this," Chan explained, "and expressed his desire to see you wear it tonight."

You excused everyone from the room, leaving only Ashton behind, and Chan proceeded to open the box with a sense of reverence. Revealed within was a necklace that bore a stunning piece of history—an emerald and diamond creation that had once belonged to Catalina the Second of Russia. The gem sparkled with a rare, captivating beauty that made even Ashton gasp in awe.

"This is from the Anakami collection, part of the royal vault of Russia," Chan informed you, his tone respectful and impressed.

You nodded, your knowledge of the piece shining through. "From Catalina the Second."

Chan's understanding smile mirrored his acknowledgment of your profound familiarity with the necklace. Your appreciative smile revealed your thanks, and you gestured for Ashton to place the exquisite piece around your neck.

As the necklace adorned your neckline, he couldn't help but compliment, "Indeed, your husband has an eye for a gem."

Thanking Chan for his delivery, you expected him to take his leave, but he remained in place. After Ashton left the room, Chan went into a polite bow. You looked at him and turning back to your reflection with a more somber expression, you addressed him.

"Get up, Chan," you said gently, "the workers should not apologize for their loyalty to their boss. You did what any subordinate would do. I am not angry with you."

Chan's smile returned, and he bowed once more, an expression of gratitude and humility in his eyes. As he prepared to leave the room, you stopped him with a final piece of advice.

"Chan," you began in a soft but firm tone, "next time, try to keep your experiences and advice to yourself. Hmm?"

"Duly noted, madam," Chan replied with an appreciative nod. The understanding between you felt like a small step toward restoring a sense of normalcy to your relationship.

You were nearly ready, as Ashton entered again to finish the final touches.

The grand gala was a spectacle of opulence and glamour. The chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystal facets glistening in the soft, warm light. Servers in impeccable uniforms weaved through the crowd, offering trays of exquisite hors d'oeuvres and champagne flutes. The air was filled with the clicks of cameras and the hum of hushed conversations as guests from various elite circles, including A-listers, entrepreneurs, and influential individuals from both sides of your families, mingled and celebrated.

The event's announcer took center stage, standing beside the grand stairs, and her voice resonated through the room as all eyes turned toward her. "Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you all to the grand celebration of 75 years of L/N Diamonds and Special Stones. We gather here to honor the visionary who started it all 75 years ago with his hard work, dedication, and passion for a woman's best friend. What makes this evening even more special is that it is also a celebration in honor of the newlyweds, the heiress of the L/Ns, and the prince of JJ Group, Jeon Wonwoo."

The crowd erupted into applause, and Wonwoo, surrounded by business partners, raised his glass, receiving smiles and nods from those around him.

The announcer continued, "Now, without further ado, I would like to call upon the stage the star of the evening, the diamond heiress and the CEO of Fareed Switzerland, Y/n L/N."

All eyes turned to the top of the grand stairs, and the clapping of the guests filled the hall. You descended the stairs gracefully, your red cape trailing behind you, giving you the appearance of a character from a classic film. The necklace adorning your neck, a magnificent royal heirloom from Russia, captured everyone's attention.

Everything seemed to slow down for Wonwoo as he watched you descend the stairs. He was struck by the realization of his incredible luck in being married to such a remarkable woman. His chest swelled with pride and second-guessed his luck.

As you reached the stage and adjusted the microphone, you smiled at the host and began your address, "Thank you, Lana, for that lovely introduction. Although the second half was lost to me because I was busy thinking about how not to trip on the stairs."Laughter rippled through the crowd. "Since I'm not a big fan of long speeches, I'll keep this address short and sweet. This evening is not about celebrating L/N Diamonds and Fareed but about those who dare to dream and the realists who support their dreamers, like Mr. Locke, Mr. Kim, and Mr. Jeong, who are present here this evening."

The spotlight fell upon their table, and you acknowledged them with a nod as they raised their glasses. "They started this journey with my grandfather 75 years ago, and, most importantly, to the backbone of this foundation who are present here—from the miners to the designers." You paused a round of applause resonated through the crowds, "When I was young, my grandfather would often be stuck in his office, spending hours analyzing the diamonds. He talked to me passionately about their history."

You continued, "One day, in my naivete, I asked, 'Grandpa, who do you love more, the diamonds or Grandma?' It might seem like a silly question, but he turned to me and said, 'Your grandma.'"

You recalled his words, "How come? You rarely spend time with her." He laughed and replied, "Because when I make a bracelet she likes, the smile on her face and the pride with which she wears that piece make me feel like she's carrying my love with her everywhere she goes. Love is never constant. Some days can be bad, and some good, but we do not live in days; we live in memories. These diamonds remind us of why we choose to wake up every day and be with the person we love."

You expressed your gratitude for the past 75 years, "For the last 75 years, we have not only been making diamonds but tokens of love that eternalize our memories—resilient, forever cherishable, and bound by legacy. So, let's raise our glasses to the 75 years of trust from our customers and the passion of our designers.

To my parents, who taught me love, to my son, who reminds me of how to love."

Your eyes found Noel standing with your father-in-law, holding his hand just a few feet away from the stage. Your eyes find Wonwoo's across the room when you smile as you address your husband, "And to my husband, who has shown me what it feels like to be loved."

The entire room joined in, raising their glasses and echoing your words, "To love."

Wonwoo mouthed the words, "To love," as he emptied his flute, a contented smile on his face.

(the angel on the left "This is getting too fluffy"

angel on the right "It is an epilogue it is supposed to be fluffy")

The music resumed, and you gracefully stepped down from the stage, leaving Rachel to deal with the waiting media. After about 20 minutes of enduring half-baked sexist questions and borderline invasions of privacy regarding your marriage and the recent conflict, you finally returned to the party and began greeting the guests one by one.

On the other side of the party, Rachel had finished her duties and decided to take a break at the bar. She ordered a drink and was savoring the moment when someone approached her. There was a slight hesitation in his demeanor, but he continued, "Shall I give you my card? I think you're going to need an attorney tonight."

Rachel furrowed her brows in confusion, asking, "Why?" Lowering his voice a bit, he replied, "Because you're dressed to kill." She rolled her eyes and smiled behind her glass. "Come on, it wasn't that bad," he defended.

"I didn't say anything," she replied, looking up at him. Their eyes locked, and Rachel felt hers drifting down to his lips. Unconsciously, she bit her lip and shook her head to snap out of her trance. That's when Jungkook cleared his throat and began, "Listen, Rach, about the other day…"

Rachel cut him off, saying, "It's alright. It doesn't matter. It was just a kiss. We met by chance, had an argument about wines, and then one thing led to another. It was a mistake, so let's forget about it, okay?"

Jungkook felt a pang of rejection, something quite unfamiliar to him in his experiences with women. He clenched his hands inside his pockets and wanted to say he didn't want to forget it, but before he could, a server interjected. "Excuse me, Ms. Lee. Madam Y/n is calling for you." Following the server's indication, Rachel spotted you standing in a group and beckoning her over with a subtle gesture as your eyes met. She got down from the stool, took her drink, and told Jungkook, "It was nice meeting you, Jungkook. Take care," before leaving him.

Jungkook, feeling a strange wave of melancholy, needing some air, took a glass of scotch and walked towards the balcony.

As you saw Rachel approaching, you gently pulled her to your side and introduced her, "Nora, Minny, gentlemen, this is Rachel Lee, currently the Managing Director at L/N's. Rach, this is the board of Fareed." They all exchanged greetings and shook hands, sharing a few words and smiles. You continued, "People, I hope you all treat Rachel well. She's my nomination for the COO candidate for Fareed."

Rachel could feel her eyes widen in astonishment, and her mouth slightly opened, but she quickly schooled her features. Bubbles of excitement tingled through her, just like they did when she kissed Jungkook. She stopped herself from following that train of thought and focused on answering Minny's questions.

.......

You were engrossed in a conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Kwon, Joon-hee's in law's, who was complimenting your exquisite necklace Mrs. Kwon, leaning towards you with a sly smile, said, "Thank you, I'm glad you both could make it. I thought you'd be in Japan."

Mr. Kwon nodded in agreement as his wife continued, "We were, but then Sunmi insisted we attend, especially since we didn't get the chance to meet her daughter-in-law due to your wish for a quick and private wedding."

You responded with a thin-lipped smile and a nod, but before you could reply, a familiar arm wrapped around your waist, enveloping you in a comforting scent.“There you are sweetheart, Sorry I am late, I was looking everywhere for you” Wonwoo smiled down at you and planted a soft kiss on the corner of your lips.

"Evening, Mr. and Mrs. Kwon. How have you been?" Wonwoo greeted them.

Mrs. Kwon interjected, "We're fine, as much as age allows us to be. I was just telling your wife that her preference for private meetings can sometimes leave a bad impression regarding close relationships."

You were about to respond, but Wonwoo beat you to it. He explained, "Well, it was my wish to have a private wedding. I didn't want to waste plates, where mouths would be busy chatting instead of chewing food."

Mrs. Kwon's expression soured, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth. On the other hand, Mr. Kwon smiled and reached out to shake hands with Wonwoo. "How are you, young man? Why don't I see you around the club anymore? You know, Y/n, he'd give even Matsuyama a run for his money."

Wonwoo gave a humble shake of his head. "Mr. Kwon is too kind. Well, if it's okay with you, may I steal my wife?"

Mr. Kwon let out a hearty laugh and said, "Sure, young man."

Wonwoo swiftly pulled you away from the couple, and as you walked side by side, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You look absolutely gorgeous."

You teased back, "You don't look half bad yourself." The subtle flashes of cameras continued as you asked about his interviews. He gave you a tired look that conveyed his reluctance to discuss it at the moment.

As you both approached your parents, Noel ran to you and hugged your legs. "Baby boy, are you having fun?" You asked, and he nodded, pointing towards Somi. "Can Somi and I go to the chocolate fountain?"

"Sure, why not," you gestured for them to follow Tham, As he waved goodbye to your dad.

With the kids occupied, you talked to your parents, complimenting both your mother and mother-in-law on their incredible planning and coordination. Your parents were going to Italy for a bit of business that your father had, followed by a leisure trip to Sicily.

As you were about to move on to greet other guests, Lana took the microphone and said, "Although the average wedding reception occurs within an hour of the ceremony this one took 3 months" subtle chuckle from the guest "upon the suggestion of Mrs. Sunmi Jeon herself, I would like to request Mr. and Mrs. Jeon to bestow the honor of their first dance."

You looked around, a bit surprised, as all eyes were on you, anticipating your dance. You were about to shake your head in refusal when Wonwoo extended his hand towards you, his eyes locked onto yours. "May I have this dance, Mrs. Jeon?" he asked with a charming smile.

You looked at his outstretched hand and then met his gaze. There was a shared understanding, a connection that ran deeper than words could express. With a nod and a graceful curtsy, you accepted his invitation. You placed your hand in his, feeling his strong, warm grasp, and he pulled you gently towards him.

The crowd hushed in anticipation as the first notes of the waltz enveloped the room. You and Wonwoo moved together as if you were the only two people in the world. The dance floor felt like a world of its own, a place where only the two of you existed.

Your red dress swirled around you, its cape fluttering in harmony with the rhythm of the music. Wonwoo's tuxedo looked impeccable, and the soft colors of your outfits complemented each other perfectly. With each step and twirl, you moved as one, your eyes locked, and smiles shared.

On the balcony, Jungkook stood gazing at the night sky, an air of melancholy surrounding him. The soft glow of the stars above painted a serene backdrop to his contemplation. The world seemed to move on around him as he lost himself in his thoughts.

A voice broke through his reverie as Joonhee opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony. She had a teasing tone in her voice as she asked, "Hey, you aren't planning on jumping, are you?"

Jungkook didn't turn to look at her. He replied with a hint of wry humor, "Not without leaving a testimony that if I'm found dead, the first person to look for is you."

She walked over to him and stood by his side, her back against the railing, and her elbows resting on it. Curiosity laced her words as she asked, "You're wearing the same expression you had when we had to put Dora down."

Jungkook offered a rueful smile, reminded of their first horse, and said, "Not really, just thinking about a few things. Where's your husband?"

She glanced towards the hall where you and Wonwoo were dancing. "He's near the chocolate fountain with the kids."

Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. "Do you ever think that you're raising two kids, not just one?"

Joonhee smiled and nodded. "Every day."

A comfortable silence settled between them as they both leaned against the railing, watching the two of you dancing inside the hall. Eventually, Joonhee began to speak, her words filled with wisdom. "I've learned in life that if something doesn't work out, it means something better is waiting around the corner. You just have to be patient."

Jungkook clicked his tongue and voiced his doubts. "Sometimes certain things don't get better with time. They always take a part of you with them, and you're left incomplete, no matter what you do to fill the void."

Joonhee offered her perspective. "Then maybe you're filling that void with the wrong things." Both of them turned their gaze towards you and Wonwoo, who were concluding your dance.

"Remember when Eleanor left, oppa?" Joonhee hummed, her thoughts drifting back. "He was nothing but an empty shell, always working, never laughing, and not even attending the same places as she did. I hated her for what she did." She turned to Jungkook. "But that didn't stop you, did it?"

Jungkook shrugged, nonchalantly. "I can't be bothered about her. Her husband is an important client of my firm, and you know how it works. We don't really have a choice."

Joonhee nodded thoughtfully. "Look at him now. You know, Jungkook, things do get better with time. But if you find something you really want, then you have to fight for it."

Jungkook questioned with a hint of uncertainty, "What if fighting makes it worse?"

"Then let it go," Joonhee advised. "If it's meant to be, it will be." They watched as you and Wonwoo concluded your dance, finding solace in the knowledge that sometimes, life had its own way of bringing better things when least expected.

As the final notes of the music filled the air, you and Wonwoo came to a graceful stop, and the room erupted in applause.

.......

As the night wore on and the party grew livelier, the atmosphere became even more festive after the dinner. You had just sent Noel home and Wonwoo was engrossed in conversation with some old college friends, their laughter echoing from the other side of the room. you found yourself near the bar, waiting for your drink. From amidst the crowd, you spotted a familiar face approaching, and a smile of recognition crossed your lips as he stood in front of you.

"It's been a while," he said as he slid next to you.

You nodded and replied, "Three years, I suppose. How have you been, Mr. Choi?"

Seungcheol grinned, "Y/n, please. I thought we were friends." He tilted his head, and you nodded in agreement.

"I've been good, just returned from Denmark," you told him.

"I see. And how's Mr. and Mrs. Choi?" he asked.

"Same old, playing the Cupid," you replied, and both of you shared a laugh.

"I would say you could relate, but here you are, married, leaving your comrade all alone," he said with a mock frown.

"Oh, come on. You know there was a limit to how far we could keep up the ruse. My mother caught on before the third date," you reminded him.

Wonwoo couldn't help but smile as he took a sip from his glass, listening to his friend's humorous recollection of their past swimming adventures, including the infamous incident where they had stolen his clothes, leaving him standing naked. However, his laughter concealed as His gaze wandered around the room and eventually landed on you, near the bar, sharing a hearty laugh at something Seungcheol had just said. Wonwoo's eyes were fixed on you, his brow furrowed in thought as he tried to place where he had seen Seungcheol before.

He watched as you laughed freely with someone else, your joy radiating from you like a warm glow. A tinge of unease settled in his chest as he realized that he couldn't easily divert his attention from the sight of you both having such a good time together.

"That's a cute kid," Seungcheol commented as you showed him pictures of Noel from Jeonghan's wedding. "Wow, so that's Jeonghan and Victor you were telling me about?"

You nodded and locked your phone. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly remembering something. "And what about that friend of yours, what's her name?"

"Noella," you assisted.

"Yes, what about her?"

You cleared your throat and informed him with a sad smile, "She and her husband passed away in a car accident two years ago."

A look of remorse flashed in Seungcheol's deep, dark eyes. "My sincere condolences, Y/n. I didn't know."

You smiled, saying, "It's alright, just life, you know."

He nodded in agreement, and a moment of silence passed between the two of you. Seungcheol then picked up his glass and said, "Well, I wasn't going to make it tonight, but I was curious to meet the man who managed to sweep you off your feet. Where is he?"

Before you could answer, Wonwoo's voice sounded from behind. "Why don't you meet him yourself?" You turned, slightly surprised, to find Wonwoo standing beside you, emitting a slightly intimidating vibe while keeping his eyes trained on Seungcheol.

You tried to break the stare-down, saying, "Seungcheol oppa, meet Jeon Wonwoo, my husband." You grabbed Wonwoo's arm and continued, "Wonwoo, this is Choi Seongcheol, you must have heard of him, Choi Motors and Tyres."

Wonwoo frowned and shook his head, saying, "Nah, doesn't ring a bell." You gave him a wide-eyed look, shocked by his response.

Seungcheol just laughed and reassured, "Y/n, maybe we have to work harder to reach the tall towers," extending his hand for Wonwoo to shake.

Wonwoo's hand was still in his pocket, and you dug your nails into his bicep. He reluctantly took his hand out of his pocket and gave a tight grip and shake. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, saying, "It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Jeon."

Wonwoo replied, "Likewise. May I know how you know my wife?"

Seungcheol explained, "Y/n and I go way back. Our mothers are friends, and they decided to set us up together. So, we used to date."

"Fake date," you corrected.

Seungcheol teased, "Really, it was real for me." He felt Wonwoo's grip tighten, but he was enjoying making the man squirm. "Our mothers set us up to save the hassle, so we'd say we were on dates when, in truth, we'd just meet for 4-6 minutes and then part ways."

You chuckled as you continued, "Then, oppa had to leave for Denmark, and that's that."

"Tch, if not, you'd be Mrs. Choi today," he said with feigned remorse, further provoking Wonwoo. Wonwoo's smirk grew as he clenched his jaw.

He took his right hand out of his pocket, which was brushing your side. You released your grip on his arm and rested on your hand side, As he wrapped an arm around your waist, a little lower on the hip. You gave him a quizzical look.

"Then I should treat my mother-in-law better for being so quick-witted," he remarked.

"Wonwoo, did you know—" you began, but he cut you off.

"Y/n, Dad said he was leaving. Do you want to see him off?"

You felt a slight irritation flare within you as he cut you off, but you masked it with a smile, nodded, and turned to Seongcheol.

"It was so nice catching up with you, Oppa. If you're here for a while, why don't you come to our house? I'm sure it would be fun."

"Ah, I wish, but I have to fly back in a few days. But it was nice seeing you again, Mr. Jeon," Seongcheol said.

"Mr. Cho."

"Congratulations on your marriage and 75 years of L/N's."

"Thank you, Oppa."

Seongcheol looked at Wonwoo and advised, "Take care of this one; she can be a little feisty."

Wonwoo responded, "You don't say." With that, Seongcheol turned and left with a smile on his face.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Wonwoo turned to you and said, "Funny man. So, how many more have you fake-dated?"

You gave him a glare. "What was that?"

He looked down at you, confused. "What was what?"

"How many have I fake-dated before Seongcheol oppa?"

"Oh, now he's your oppa," Wonwoo mumbled.

"I can't believe this, Rude bastard" you muttered, shaking your head as you walked away from him. He glanced at your retreating figure and asked Himself, "Was I really that rude?"

.........

It was 2 am by the time you both reached home, your whole body aching from standing all evening. Adding fuel to the fire was Wonwoo, who still lingered around you. You managed to give him a little cold shoulder, still pissed at how he cut you off and treated your guest and asked that question. You never asked him how many women he indulged in, now did you?

As you were about to shut the door, a hand stopped it. "This is my room too," he said matter-of-factly.

"Right," you replied as you picked up the phone you threw on the bed. You were about to leave when he stopped you.

"Y/n, don't be like that. Come on, baby."

"Don't 'baby' me. Why did you have to act like some territorial brute, as if I have—"

"I know, I'm sorry. I just… I don't know, I didn't like seeing you laughing with another man. It pissed me off, okay?"

You raised your brows, pressing your lips into a thin line. "So, can I ask you if I do that as a profession? Fake date people? Do you even know what it feels like to have someone always nagging on top of your head, huh? With another shit-ton of things going on in life?" Your voice fell an octave.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry. It's just… fuck, I was just so pissed that I don't know what got over me, and I said that. I was just jealous."

You turned to him. "Would you forgive me if I admit I was?" He looked like a kicked puppy, and your anger radiated off of you.

You both walked back to your bedroom. Wonwoo's knees hit the edge of the bed as he plopped down, looking up at you. You gave him a knowing look, teasing, "How jealous?"

You placed your knees between his legs, pressing your kneecap against his groin. A soft hiss escaped his lips. He admitted, "So jealous that I wanted to take you right there in front of all those people. The moment you walked down those stairs, I couldn't believe my luck, that I am married to you."

You felt your heart quicken, and the familiar fire ignited within you. Slowly, you reached to remove the pin holding your hair in a half updo, letting your hair cascade down. You were about to take off your earrings when he stopped you, saying, "Leave them on."

He grabbed your hips, making you take a step back with one foot on the bed, causing you to fall back down. He pulled you to straddle his lap. Both of you leaned in, and your lips brushed against each other. You grabbed the back of his head and jerked it back, teasingly saying, "Nuh-uh."

You got off his lap and walked to the dressing table, settling down on the plush chair.

You gestured with your fingers in a "come hither" motion. On your command, Wonwoo discarded his suit jacket, tossing it somewhere in the room. He walked over to where you were sitting. When he was just two steps away, you raised your hand to halt him in his tracks, and he stopped.

"On your knees," you ordered.

"Y/N," he warned.

You raised your brows, taunting him. "So you don't want your forgiveness?"

He hesitated. You repeated your command, "Come here to me on your knees, Wonwoo, or I'll leave the room."

Without missing a beat, he dropped to his knees and took the remaining two steps, bringing him between your parted legs. A glimpse of your panties was visible from the slightly hiked slit in your dress. Wonwoo licked his lips and swallowed as he knelt before you.

Once he was on his knees between your legs, his hands reached to touch your thighs.

"Did I say you can touch me?" you asked.

"You're playing with fire," he threatened.

"Why, are you afraid of being extinguished?"

"Open my shoes," you demanded.

His eyes were burning with desire, but equally aroused and dilated. His hands reached your feet, and you raised your feet as the shoes fell with a thud, the relief of finally removing them washing over you.

Wonwoo brought your ankle near his mouth and bit on the Achilles tendon, making you hiss.

"Show me how sorry you are," you breathed out. His hands gripped your thighs to pull you to the edge of the seat.

"Tch, no hands," you commanded.

"How will I?" he asked.

"That's not my problem," you replied.

He removed his hands from your thighs and gripped the sides of the chair's cushion, his knuckles turning white as he slowly kissed his way up from your calves to your inner thighs, biting, kissing, and licking until he reached your panties. He took a whiff, rubbed his nose, and muffled, "How will I remove them?"

Your excitement was building, evident in your soaked panties. You condescended, leering down at him, "Foolish man can't even do this much alone."

Suddenly, he gave a hot lick and a soft bite on your labia, making you jolt and yelp. You grabbed his hair and pulled him away, a smug smile on his lips. "You think you're funny, huh?" Your chest heaved. "Just couldn't resist," he said with feigned innocence. You clenched your jaw and leaned back.

Your back was against the dressing table, and your feet, previously resting next to his thighs, were now pressing against his bulging, aroused crotch. You pressed your heels into him, making him hiss, and rubbed them up and down with slight pressure. Cocking your head to the side, you asked, "Don't you think you were a little out of line just now?"

His eyes slightly shut, enjoying the sensation, he responded with a low hum. You pressed harder for an answer.

"I'm sorry," he admitted.

"But I don't feel like you're sorry, darling."

You halted your actions and slowly bunched the dress around your waist. "Use your teeth."

On your command, Wonwoo leaned in and bit the side hem of your thong as you raised your hips to slide it down your feet.

"Now, here's your chance for redemption. Make it like you mean it."

Without further ado, Wonwoo gripped the cushion in a vice grip and delved into your bundle of nerves, exploring every nook and corner with his tongue and small bites. Your hands grabbed his hair, and you pushed him further in, your labored breaths and gasps echoing in the room.

One of your legs hiked up on his shoulder. "Fuck… ahhh… Won… Wonuuu…"

He continued with an unforgiving pace, your hips automatically trying to ride his face. The familiar tension started building in your womb, and you threw your head back, jaw slack. Your body and senses succumbed to the pleasure as the orgasm finally consumed you, with chants of his name leaving your lips. You came down from your high, panting.

Wonwoo felt a surge of pride course through him. It was his name on your lips, and your release belonged to him. He had been a fool to let a petty thought ruin the mood, but now he understood the beauty of redemption.

After you finally calmed down, he looked up at you and said, "Am I forgiven, baby?"

You nodded and teased, "Can I touch you now?"

"That's not how you ask for permission, Wonu," you playfully chided, "Do I have to give you a special etiquette class?"

He shook his head in response and corrected himself, "Can I please touch you?"

"Yes, you may," you granted him permission.

Without a second thought, he sprang to his feet, pulling you up from your seat. He captured your lips in a feverish kiss as his hands reached for your zipper. The dress pooled at your feet, and your hands were busy undressing him. You threw his coat and belt aside, opened his shirt, and then dealt with his pants as his hands touched and groped every part of you.

He was throbbing painfully as your hands grabbed him, rubbing along his slit. He sat on the bed and pulled you to straddle his lap, raising your hips as you rubbed his head against your lips. You slowly descended down on his length, both of you moaning together. Your hips matched each other's pace as you rode him, and the pleasure was overwhelming.

Your hair was sticking to your back as you reached to gather it into a makeshift ponytail. The earrings and necklace were the only accessories adorning you. He groped and sucked on your nipples, rolling his tongue around them and grazing with his thumb while the other hand played with the other.

You reached your other hand down and gave his balls a squeeze, eliciting a loud moan from him. "FUCK, Y/N," he exclaimed as he looked up at you, an enticing sight for his eyes.

"Not so soon," you panted. But he was desperate and wanted more. You fiddled with his balls, letting go of your hair, and pushed him back onto the bed. You began to ride him vigorously.

Even in the midst of overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't close his eyes. Your hips picked up the pace, and your chests matched the rhythm. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your neck, which was adorned with the expensive necklace he had gifted you, worth every million.

Your hands gave him another squeeze, and his release shot up. "Will you cut me off again?" you commanded.

Wonwoo shook his head in desperation. "No, no, never, never," he declared, his hips chasing the final ropes of pleasure.

He reached for the back of your head and brought your lips to his, your chests pressed tightly against each other. His thrusts chased the climax. "You fuck me like this and then question why I get jealous when another man tries to come close to you? How would you feel if some other woman tried flirting with me?" He gasped against your lips, and you bit down on his lips, tasting a slight tinge of copper.

"That's just wishful thinking, darling," you retorted, "as if you'd even desire another woman after getting fucked by me." You clenched around him, his now softening dick, making him gasp as your pleasure overtook you.

Wonwoo couldn't help but agree, realizing that you couldn't be more right.

.........

.........

2 Months Later

You were sitting in the living area, waiting anxiously for Noel and Wonwoo to return from their baseball game with your father-in-law. The news you had learned that morning had your heart racing and your palms sweaty. You couldn't help but feel jittery as you waited.

Finally, Noel and Wonwoo walked in, and to your shock, they had a puppy with them. You looked at both of them with a puzzled expression, "What is this?"

Wonwoo appeared confused and asked, "What? This little furball?"

You huffed, "Yes, that golden retriever puppy."

"Oh, come on, Y/N, don't be like that. That's Noel," Wonwoo replied, trying to explain.

A chorus of "hey" came from the boy, who was now playing with the little golden retriever pup. You glared at Wonwoo, crossed your arms, and tilted your head to the side, clearly displeased.

Noel began, "On our way back, we saw a woman putting this puppy litter on the road. She was giving them away because her dog died while giving birth, and she couldn't raise them all alone. So she was giving them to whoever wanted to take them."

You scowled at Wonwoo and retorted, "You could have asked me first, you know."

He defended their decision, "Yeah, that would have ruined the surprise."

Wonwoo then took the pup in his hands and held it up in front of his face, using a fake cute voice, "Don't you think I'm cute?"

You looked down at Noel, who was giving you the same puppy-dog eyes as the actual puppy. He pleaded, "I promise I'll take care of him. I'll take him for walks, feed him on time, and even give him a bath, I promise."

Wonwoo chimed in, "He promised."

You sighed and continued to examine the dog, lowering yourself to its eye level. You extended your hand for it to smell, and it automatically started licking your hand. You looked up and inquired, "Did you at least get him checked by the vet and have him registered for vaccines and stuff?" Your tone was laced with a warning.

Wonwoo hesitated, avoiding eye contact, and a sense of guilt washed over him.

But before you could press further, Noel interjected with enthusiasm, "Of course, we did, Dad and I took him to the vet, and I've even named him."

"So, what did you name him?" You looked at Wonwoo and then at Noel, curiosity in your eyes.

Wonwoo began, "Well, I first suggested Tony, you know, after Tony Stark—"

"But then he kind of reminded me of Baden," Noel interrupted. The pup gave a yelp, as if responding, and Noel continued, "He liked it, see? He even responds to it. So I named him Baden."

You and Wonwoo exchanged a knowing glance. You had informed Noel about Baden's passing in an accident and had made sure his funeral was well taken care of. However, you refrained from attending, choosing instead to pay your respects a week later.

You gave Noel a tight smile and reached to take the dog from your husband's arms, raising him to your eye level. "So you are Baden," you mused. The little puppy wagged his tail and stuck out his tongue, letting out a small bark. "But I'm going to call him Denny," Noel innocently added. You silently approved, knowing that you'd likely be calling the dog's name at some point, and you didn't want to summon the spirit of Baden Bulavia inadvertently.

"Then welcome to the family, Baden. I hope you take good care of my son," you said to the puppy. As if understanding every word, the little dog turned his head to the side, listening intently.

With a nod of satisfaction, you sent Noel off to take a shower and asked Ahjumma to buy some milk and puppy diapers. You couldn't deny the cuteness of the new addition, but you had no intentions of cleaning up after his mess on your new carpets and bedding.

"Wonwoo, we need to talk," you said, your voice carrying the weight of seriousness. Wonwoo, who was in the middle of sharing details about the game, immediately stopped speaking. He could sense the gravity in your tone. Following your lead, he walked to his ground-floor office.

Upon entering, you closed the door behind you. adorned with rich mahogany bookshelves, stuffed with leather-bound books, and filled with the intoxicating scent of Paper and Tobacco. Files were meticulously arranged on the desk, and a sleek laptop sat at its center, the flickering screen casting a bluish glow on the polished wooden surface.

"Y/n, if it's about the dog, then I'm sorry. I know I should have informed you, but I couldn't say no to Noel and -"

Your heart was racing, and his rambling only made it worse. You fiddled with your wedding ring, taking quick breaths.

"…and I know you don't like surprises. If you want, then I guess I'll return it back."

"Wonwoo, I'm pregnant!" you blurted out in a quick breath.

As soon as the words left your mouth, all the rambling died in Wonwoo's throat. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, and all the switches in his brain seemed to go off. The world slowed down around him, and anxious anticipation coursed through his veins. In a whispered tone, punctuating each word, he asked, "You are what?" His eyes widened, and his eyebrows almost touched his forehead.

"Well, for the past few days, I was feeling kinda queasy, and my periods were late. I went to the doctor earlier when you both were at the game because I wasn't sure, considering the uterine device…"

Wonwoo took a step towards you, and you continued, "The doctor ran some tests, and… I am four weeks pregnant."

You kept your gaze on your hands as you spoke. When you felt Wonwoo's hand on your shoulder, you raised your head to see him. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and your eyes welled up as well. "You are pregnant," he said, his voice trembling towards the end. "We are going to have a child, a baby."

A sense of doubt arose in his voice as he asked, "Are you unhappy?"

"Are you kidding me? I am the happiest man on Earth right now," he said and picked you up, spinning you around. You laughed and playfully slapped his shoulder. He halted his spinning to look into your eyes.

"We can't tell anyone, at least for the next two months."

"But—"

"No 'buts.' I just don't want to jinx it."

He looked a bit dejected but understood your point. "But we should at least tell the housekeeper to be extra careful and Noel that he's going to be an elder brother now."

A smile faded from your face, and Wonwoo gently put you down, cupping your face in his hands. "What's wrong?"

"It's just… I don't want other people's malice to affect Noel. You know how they talk behind our backs, and what if Noel feels neglected and hates it."

"My love, Noel is a very wise and smart boy who knows that no matter what, your love for him and his place in your heart will always be irreplaceable, okay?"

Bending down to your eye level, Wonwoo kissed your forehead and then your cheeks. "You have no idea how happy I feel right now. I can't wait to hold her."

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him. "How do you know it's a 'her'?"

"Call it a father's instinct," he said, and you rolled your eyes, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "Load of shit."

"What—" He laughed. "You don't believe me. You'll see. The way she managed to dodge the uterine device with her resilience and stubbornness, there are no other arguments but to think it's a girl. Just like her mother." You pinched his hip. "Ouch! Haha."

He embraced you tightly, taking a step back to hold your chin between his thumb, bending down, and getting lost in a heartfelt kiss.

.......

Later that night, after dinner, Wonwoo went and told the housekeeper and Noel's nanny that you were expecting and to be extra careful with you, not even allowing you to step into the kitchen. And signing off that if this information goes outside he will know who leaked it.

The room was painted in shades of red and gold, resembling an Iron Man theme room. Beddings, action figures, and toy cars lined the shelves, creating an exciting atmosphere. The door was left open, and Wonwoo leaned against it, watching as Noel sat on his bed, ready to sleep. He was reading a book to Denny, the pup, who sat on his stomach with a diaper on, listening attentively.

"Hey, bud, got a minute," Wonwoo called.

"Oh, Dad, come in," Noel responded, looking up from his book.

Wonwoo sat on the side of the bed near the bedside table and wrapped his arms around Noel's shoulder. The pup jumped onto Wonwoo's lap, and his hands instinctively started petting the soft fur.

"What are you reading there?" he asked, pointing to the book.

"The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse."

"Hmm, that's deep stuff," Wonwoo remarked.

"So did you have fun today?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was fun. By the way," Noel turned his body to face his dad, "does Grandpa get that excited about every match like that?"

Wonwoo snorted and said, "Pretty much, yeah. He used to be like that when I played in college."

"You played baseball in college?" Noel looked curious.

Wonwoo nodded. "Do you like any sports?" he asked.

"Well," Noel started, thinking for a moment, "I like horse riding, but baseball is cool too."

"Anything else?" Wonwoo suggested.

"Hmm, football. Uncle JJ told me that he and my father used to play football together sometimes."

"Football, huh? If you want, you can play too. JK is really into football. I'll ask him if he knows any good clubs."

"No, it's okay, my school has a team," Noel added.

"So, I wanted to talk to you about something," he cleared his throat and started. "Tante wants me to return Denny."

"What? No, she doesn't. The thing is, you're going to be an older brother."

"How?"

"Please don't make me give you a birds and bees talk right now; I am not prepared."

"Do you mean Tante is going to have a baby?"

"How do you know this?"

"We were taught in Moral and Physical Ed class about good touch and bad touch. They also told us how babies come in their mom's stomach."

Wonwoo felt it was best that he left this conversation to You. "Right."

"Yeah, when a man and a woman come together, and—"

"Got it, bud. Yes, we made a baby." Wonwoo cleared his throat at the end of the sentence.

"But I just wanted to talk about you being an older brother now. So, you're going to have a lot of responsibility and have to look out for your sibling and grow taller and stronger."

He closed his eyes and started again. "Noel," Wonwoo breathed. "There are going to be times when people's opinions grow a vicious voice in our heads and make you feel bad about yourself and other things. I just want you to know that even though we are not related by blood, you will always be a special part of our hearts. So, no matter what people say, you will always be our son. We will always love you, okay? So whenever you feel like that, you can come and talk to us, hmm?"

Wonwoo gave a reassuring squeeze on Noel's shoulder, and the boy wrapped his small arms around his ribs, hugging him and nodding against his chest. Wonwoo smiled and looked down, caressing his back, then kissed him on the top of his head. They realized they were almost squishing the pup between them when a small bark interrupted their moment. Parting, Wonwoo said, "I still think we should've gone with Noel Jr."

"DADDDD!!" Noel whined, making Wonwoo laugh. "Okay, okay."

........

........

In the cold, sterile jail visitor cell, Nikolia sat on one side of a thick glass partition, separated from his lawyer, who occupied the other side. They conversed through old, scratched telephones affixed to the wall.

Nikolia appeared unkempt and disheveled, with wild, devilish hair, dark eye bags, and an unruly beard. His wrists were encircled by handcuffs, a constant reminder of his current predicament.

“What do you mean my appeal got fucking canceled?” Nikolia growled, his frustration evident in his every word.

His lawyer, a man in his 50s with thinning hair, closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts before explaining, "It hasn't been canceled, Nikolia. It has been taken for further consideration."

“Then how much time will they need for consideration, huh? What do I feed you for? Fifteen years you've worked for me, and this is the best you could do, you pathetic fat pig.”

The lawyer sighed, realizing he had to tread carefully. “Nikolia, I understand your frustration, but you've been charged with four murders—three of your own family members—and other illegal arms trade activities. This led to the cancellation of our license as well. If that were not enough, you gave death threats to Jeon's daughter-in-law. They have everyone in their pockets.”

“I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHO THAT BITCH HAS IN HER POCKETS. I AM NIKOLIA BULAVIA!! WHERE ARE THOSE PIMP-ASS FAMILIAS, HUH? DO THEY WANT ME TO OPEN MY MOUTH?”

The lawyer leaned closer, his voice hushed. “I'd suggest you keep your voice down and mouth shut about the Familia. They are already waiting for you to make a move so they can pull the trigger. If you want to stay alive, then stay put and mind your own business.”

Before Nikolia could unleash another tirade, the line emitted a beep, signaling the end of their call. An officer approached to escort Nikolia back to his cell, but he jerked his hand away defiantly, muttering, “I can walk on my own.”

The lawyer sighed heavily and went to sit in the waiting area. His phone suddenly rang, and his hands trembled as he glanced at the caller ID. Without wasting a second, he brought the phone to his ear.

"Yes, boss."

A deep, gravelly voice came from the other end, inquiring, "How was the meeting? How did that bastard look?"

"Very miserable, sir. He kept whining about how no one would help him, but he threatened to take the Familias down with him."

The man on the other end burst into a hearty laugh. "Let him suffer. That's what he gets when he underestimates the Knoxes. And if he makes even a slight squeak, you know what to do next, don't you?"

"Yes—yes, sir."

As the two men engaged in their conversation, a breaking news story flashed across the television screen.

"ACCORDING TO OUR WITNESSES, DURING THE PRIME MINISTER ELECTION, THE DEVELOPMENT MINISTER AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW OF CANDIDATE LEE HYUN JOON, WIFE OF CONGRESSMAN LEE JOON SUK'S WIFE, ELEANOR LEE WHO WAS ACCOMPANYING HER FATHER-IN-LAW AND HUSBAND DURING THE RALLY WENT INTO LABOR A MONTH EARLY AND NOW HAS BEEN BLESSED WITH A BABY BOY," the news anchor reported.

The old woman nodded approvingly, her fingers interlaced in her lap. "Aigoo, such a considerate young lady," she mused.

The woman next to her, also engrossed in the broadcast, chimed in, "Their party has always been very family-oriented."

"You're right," the old woman replied, her voice filled with admiration. "They hold these values very dear. I guess he is a very promising candidate to vote for."

The two women continued to watch the news, their discussions about the Lee family, and their commitment to their political party.

.........

.........

3 Months later

The morning sun streamed into the lavish living room of your mansion, casting a warm and inviting glow. The day after Christmas had left remnants of the holiday festivities scattered all around. The majestic Christmas tree stood tall and proud, adorned with twinkling lights and ornaments, while the couch was strewn with colorful gift wrappers that had been torn apart in excitement.

You sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked beneath a cozy blanket, taking in the cheerful chaos of the room. It was around 9 am, and beside you, Noel was still engrossed in unwrapping his birthday and Christmas gifts. This year was extra special as it marked your first Christmas after getting married, and it was also your beloved son's birthday.

You had decided to host a family gathering along with some of Noel's school friends, and the festive spirit lingered. However,. Jeonghan and Victor were celebrating the holidays with Victor's family, and Rachel was settling into her role as the new COO of Fareed in Switzerland.

Surprisingly, Jungkook had also missed the gathering. He had to rush to Zurich due to an emergency meeting with a client, leaving his mother inquisitive.

Noel continued to tear through the gift wrappers with enthusiasm, his excitement evident in the smile on his face. Amidst the chaos of wrapping paper, Denny was indulging in a game of peek-a-boo, occasionally popping out from beneath the torn remnants of gift wrap.

Despite your best efforts to keep your pregnancy a secret from family and friends, your husband Wonwoo seemed to be on high alert at all times. You weren't showing yet, and your choice of loose-fitting clothing helped maintain the illusion. However, subtlety appeared to be a foreign concept to him.

Wonwoo's protective nature was on full display, as he doggedly hovered around you, rarely venturing more than a few meters away. His concern for your well-being was unwavering, and he had a tendency to ask the same questions repeatedly. Whether it was inquiring about your comfort, worrying if someone was pressuring you to do something, or making sure you weren't on your feet too much, Wonwoo's vigilance, love, and care for you were unmistakable, even if his overprotectiveness sometimes bordered on comical.

During a conversation with Sunmi and your mother, Sunmi couldn't resist making a comment. "Have you gained weight?" she inquired, her eyes traveling up and down your figure.

You took a nonchalant sip of your hot chocolate, the smell of meat and eggs making your stomach churn. Even though these foods were essential for the baby's development, they had become almost unbearable. Wonwoo had made it his daily mission to ensure you ate at least one boiled egg before he left for work.

"Maybe I haven't checked," you responded with a hint of indifference.

Sunmi let go of the subject with a simple, "Hmm." However, your mother-in-law continued to eye you for the remainder of the evening, her eyes revealing a knowing glint. It felt like she knew your secret, and you couldn't help but think of her loose-lipped palm tree wannabe son.

"I'm going to tell them next week anyway," you thought, as you and Wonwoo had already confirmed the baby's health, assuring a healthy heartbeat.

Noel was over the moon with excitement ever since you'd shared the news with him. He would often come to the master bedroom to tell stories to the baby and inquire about its current fruit size. Sometimes, he'd fall asleep on your bed while Denny, who had become his inseparable companion, would curl up by your feet.

As Wonwoo entered the living room with two cups in his hands, he handed you the decaffeinated coffee. You offered your gratitude with a mumbled "Thank you, baby," and he leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips. In a hushed tone, he whispered, "No worries, love," against your lips.

He then picked up Denny and settled down on the couch, the dog hopping from his lap to yours. Your nails naturally scratched the top of Denny's head while Noel nestled comfortably between the two of you.

"Noel, who's this from?" you asked as he was eagerly tearing into another gift.

"Nana and Pop's," he replied, his eyes filled with excitement as he managed the last rip of the wrapping paper. When he finally unveiled the gift, he exclaimed, "Cool, a hoverboard!" You and Wonwoo exchanged smiles. "Your parents will spoil him with gifts like these."

"My parents? Yours gave him a PS5 and a new tablet," you countered and smiled. When Noel asked, "Mom, can I go and try this out?" you felt a sudden shiver down your spine as if someone had paused you in the moment. "What—" you spluttered, "What did you just call me?"

"Mom," Noel looked a bit confused at your reaction. "Did you not like it? But Somi and my other friends said yesterday that since you're my godmother, I can call you 'Mom' too. I already call Dad 'Dad.' Should I not call you that?" His anxiousness peeked through his nonchalant tone.

Your eyes began to water as an overwhelming feeling washed over you. You set the cup aside and enveloped the boy in your arms. "Of course, you can, baby boy," you assured him, kissing the side of his head. "Go try the new gift." Noel eagerly unboxed the hoverboard and ran out, with Denny following closely behind. You shouted after him, "Don't forget to wear the protective gear! Mrs. Tham, please make sure he does that."

Your tearful eyes met Wonwoo's, and he approached, pulling you into his chest. "How are you feeling?" he asked, gently rubbing your arms in light traces.

"Not sure," you replied. "I feel happy as well as guilty. This was the third birthday without his parents. Every day he grows up, I'm grateful to witness it, but I feel bad that Noella and Joshua aren't able to. I hope wherever they are, they're proud of their boy. I still can't believe that he turned 8 yesterday."

Wonwoo didn't say anything, content in simply listening to you speak your heart.

He set his cup down and gently placed his hand on your now slightly protruding stomach. In the past, when you'd sleep together, his hands were wrapped around your waist or ribs. But now, he would sleep with his hand slipped under your t-shirt or nightdress, his palm resting on your stomach.

"I sometimes think about what would've happened if I'd let you walk out of the office that day," he began, his eyes slightly cloudy as he reminisced the moment.

"What do you conclude from it?" you asked.

"That I would curse myself until the day I die," he replied. He nudged you. "What about you?"

You tightened your grip around him and replied, "I don't know. I don't like to think of a future where you're not with me."

"My goodness, Mrs. Jeon, from where do you conjure these lines of flattery?" he teased. You looked up, your eyes finding his.

"A place different from where you get your corny ones," you retorted.

"Come on, they can't be that bad."

"Have you heard yourself when you speak, old man?"

"You make me sound like I'm ancient."

You just laughed and nuzzled your nose into his chest as he traced light circles on your stomach. Then, you mentioned, "Eleanor had a baby boy. People were talking about it yesterday."

"Yes, I heard. Good for her, I suppose," he replied.

"Hmm, maybe we should send them something."

"No need," he replied quickly, and you fell into a few minutes of silence. Then, you thought out loud, "Yesterday, I feel like your mother caught on to the pregnancy."

"How come? I was sure I was discreet about it." You moved out of his arms and looked at him with slightly raised brows. "Were you? Are you sure?"

"Okay, I may or may not have gone a little overboard with the concern," you confessed.

You moved closer and planted a kiss in the corner of his lips. "It's alright. We'll tell them on Saturday either way. I can't wait for the advice and Mama Bear mode overload."

Wonwoo laughed and leaned down to capture your lips in his. The pecks turned into kisses, and the kisses turned into a full-blown makeout session. Suddenly, Wonwoo got up from the couch.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

"Too many eyes," he replied, referring to the housekeeper and a staff member moving around in the kitchen, cleaning up the aftermath of yesterday's party. He then carried your bridal style to the master bedroom.

.........

.........

2 years later

Nestled in the outskirts of the city was nothing short of a luxurious paradise. It offered a 5-star experience, with its stunning landscapes that overlooked the entire city. The sprawling pool glistened under the sun, surrounded by lush greenery and pristine gardens, creating an atmosphere of opulence and relaxation.

The gathering was nothing short of grand, with everyone in attendance. The Jeon family, your own family, and all your dear friends had come together to celebrate a special occasion. Jeonghan and Victor joined the festivities, their newly adopted newborn son, Yuri, cradled in their arms.

As you looked at Noel, now a little older, you could see that he was growing more and more into his mother's features and his father's personality. His mischievous grin was reminiscent of the happiness Wonwoo had shown when the doctor revealed that you were expecting a daughter.

Iris, your little girl, was nestled comfortably in Wonwoo's arms. Her bright eyes held a sense of wonder as you held both of the children's hands. Together, you cut the ribbon to Oasis, marking the grand entrance to the celebration. The entrance was a perfect blend of grandeur and hospitality, adorned with an array of paintings representing different cultures.

As the gathering and welcoming ceremony continued inside the grand resort, you decided to take a quiet walk outside. You strolled along a serene pathway near a pond, where you noticed a duck entangled in some branches. Determined to help, you crossed a picturesque bridge and carefully reached out to free the distressed bird.

Lost, you didn't hear Wonwoo approaching. He found you engaged in a scene that felt oddly familiar – much like the first time he saw you. The duck pecked at your hand, and you assured it with a soothing voice, "Just a moment, I'm almost done." With a gentle touch, you managed to free the duck, watching it swim away to safety. As you took a step back, you collided with a sturdy chest, and when you looked up, your eyes met Wonwoo's warm gaze, accompanied by a contented smile.

"When did you get here? I didn't hear any noise," you asked, puzzled by his silent approach.

Wonwoo chuckled softly. "Well, some years ago, a little girl told me I should walk softly or else I might scare them."

Your eyes widened as he continued with a story from your past. "Then I asked her why she was helping them even if they were hurting her."

The girl, it appeared, had a wise reply. "Sometimes people who are hurt say or do harsh things because they don't know how to ask for help."

With realization dawning upon you, you gasped and covered your mouth. "You were that tall boy with the emo fringe haircut."

Wonwoo grinned and admitted, "Ouch, but yes, it was me."

The newfound knowledge left you surprised. "So the first time we met wasn't at my parents' place?"

He shook his head, confirming your suspicions. "And how long have you known this?"

"Since the moment I saw your picture on my desk," he replied, the affection in his eyes evident.

A gentle breeze ruffled your hair, and Wonwoo tucked a loose strand behind your ear. He then looked deep into your eyes and spoke from the heart, "I must have done something good in my life that lead me to you."

Moved by his words, you closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his hand on yours, and let out a contented sigh. "You know, Wonwoo, if someone were to ask me today if I would endure everything all over again if it meant it would lead me to you and our kids, I would say yes a thousand times over. Because you made me believe that maybe I can be loved too, or maybe I was born just to be loved by you."

In the grand tapestry of the universe, where the stars align in intricate patterns and destinies are etched before birth, finding meaning in life's every task may indeed seem like an exercise in futility. But perhaps, it is precisely this realization that can bring a sense of contentment and gratitude for where life has led you at this moment.

You and Wonwoo found yourselves leaning in for a passionate kiss. Lost in the tender moment, you were suddenly interrupted by a cheerful voice.

"There they are," Jungkook's fiancee exclaimed as she approached you, cradling a crying Iris in her arms.

The baby girl was frantically looking for her parents, her babbles pleading for "mama, mama."

With a loving smile, you reached out to take Iris into your arms. "What's wrong, darling ?" Your soothing presence seemed to calm her, but she then began reaching for Wonwoo and switching to his arms with a happy cry of "dada."

With a smile on his face, Wonwoo gently took her into his arms, cradling her close. "Yes, my princess, Daddy is here," he whispered as she nuzzled her head into his neck. The tenderness between them was heartwarming, and Iris continued to babble about her brother, "El no playing."

Assuring her, Wonwoo replied, "El is not playing with you." He continued, "What is he doing?"Iris reached for her headband, as if her speech delay was due to it, and took it out, blinking at you. She threw it to the ground and finally said, "El, Denny, Somi."

"Denny, El, and Somi are playing together and not playing with you," Wonwoo telepathically reasoned with his daughter she nodded at energetically at her father’s comprehensive skills. "It's alright; Dada will play with you. Let's go meet Grandpa."

As he started to walk toward the waiting family, Wonwoo turned to you with a warm smile. He extended his hand, inviting you to join him. "Come on," he said. You took his hand, and together, you walked toward the gathering of loved ones.

Jungkook was engaged in a playful game of frisbee with the kids and Denny. He noticed your approach and waved, acknowledging his fiancee before turning his attention to you and Wonwoo. As you settled down with your family, you couldn't help but look around and bask in the contented atmosphere.

Tham took Iris into her care, where Yuri was playing. Your gaze met Jeonghan's across the space, and he raised his glass with a friendly salute, and you nodded in acknowledgment. He resumed his conversation with Joon-hee and her husband, and you turned to Jungkook's fiancee, who was standing next to you.

You struck up a conversation, asking her, "So, Rach, how's life?"

............................The End..................................................

EXTRA

Noella ascended the stairs, her thoughts meandering as Joshua was away at work. Her steps were reflective of her inner contemplation. When Noella was young, she had never understood why her parents, seemingly always fighting, and her mother, who seemed to resent her father's profession, didn't just leave. It wasn't until she reached the age of 27 that it all became clear. Sometimes, when people are in love, they can become incredibly selfish. So selfish, in fact, that they'll go to any lengths to hold onto their last vestige of hope in the harsh, unrelenting reality of life. Despite her physical resemblance to her mother, at the end of the day, she was her father's daughter, through and through.

She was deep in thought, musing over her own obliviousness to your hesitations, your puffy eyes, and your quiet demeanor when she and Joshua first started dating. Did Joshua know about her feelings or the feelings she once had for him?

Noella had been out drinking with Jeonghan, who had indulged a bit too much in alcohol. In the midst of his inebriation, he confessed that you had been in love with Joshua and proceeded to shed tears for you. It felt like her illusions were crumbling, and her beliefs were disintegrating into the vast expanse of life's infinite possibilities.

She was about to reach her room when a soft, heartwarming "Mama" halted her in her tracks. Warmth enveloped Noella's heart as she bent down and scooped up her 5-year-old son, asking, "What's wrong, honey boo?"

"I can't sleep," he pouted, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck.

She rubbed his back gently as his small hands clung to his pillow and teddy bear. She asked, "Want to sleep with Mama tonight?" To which he nodded.

Noella entered her and Joshua's bedroom and laid down next to him, "Hey, El."

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever think that if you could have any power in the world, then what would it be?"

"I would love Flash's powers; he can run super fast, you know," Noel replied with a glint of admiration in his eyes.

Noella couldn't help but chuckle at his response. "Flash's powers, huh?"

When Noel turned the question back to her, "What about Mama?"

Noella looked at her son's curious eyes and then up at the ceiling. After a moment of contemplation, she replied, "Time travel."

"Wow, that's so cool, but why that?" Noel inquired.

Noella's thoughts were already racing, formulating an answer when, in the midst of her thoughts, she added with a tinge of melancholy, "There are a lot of regrets to undo."

"But wouldn't that change the future?" Noel asked with innocence.

"Maybe," she shrugged, "maybe that's why we can't travel back in time to fix things."

Noel's eyes were heavy with sleep as slumber finally claimed him. He mumbled, "Tante says that not everything needs fixing. Sometimes time and patience are the best friends, and everything works out for the best."

"My son, when did you become so smart, huh?" Noella whispered, her fingers gently caressing his forehead. She began to sing the lullaby her mother used to sing, a soothing melody that cradled her son into a peaceful slumber.

Que sera, sera

Whatever will be, will be

The future's not ours to see

Que sera, sera

What will be, will be

With Love,

MSH

XXX

[deus-sema]

The discourse surrounding Sauron and Galadriel about love and obsession has been rather interesting to catch up with so far. After going through the perspectives of both those who like this pairing and those who don’t, I think both sides can unite in agreement over this one fact, if nothing else: obsession, without any shred of doubt, exists between them. It exists on both sides for she has been obsessed with him long before he was with her. Yes, it was motivated by unadulterated hatred and a desire for vengeance, but he occupied her thoughts for the better or worse. Now, she has planted herself in his mind too.

Then comes the question of whether whatever there is between them can be considered romantic or not. Is it appropriate to label it as love or not? Here it is a matter of preference which differs from person to person. What will be interpreted as romantic by one may not be so by another and vice versa. It is completely understandable why many will be uncomfortable with the notion of obsession being associated with love. Obsession – over anything and anyone – is usually an unhealthy emotion. Unwanted and unpredictable, it can prove detrimental to both the individual experiencing it as well as the people around them. In the real world, it needs to be recognized for what it is and addressed for the betterment of everyone.

But, herein lies the difference between the world we exist in and fictional worlds. Every work of fiction, regardless of genre, exists on a different plane whose happenings have no bearing on our reality. Fiction is a realm of infinite possibilities which is the reason why people use it for wish fulfillment. People can’t fly or use magic for real but they can do so in a make-believe world. People can cheat death and turn over a new leaf. Foes can become friends and overcome their grievances. They can live happily ever after without any worries about betrayal or loss. It is a place where ideal and unconditional love is allowed to thrive. Simultaneously, it is also where love can exist in flawed, twisted and, even, perverse forms. It can be greedy, possessive, selfish, and warped while still retaining its essence. That is probably the reason why many, myself included, are fascinated with the idea of stories with obsessive love. With the idea of an all-consuming desire and yearning on one character’s part for another that can go on to be destructive. With the concept of evil beings experiencing love. It is why obsession fueled by love, whether executed properly or not, is an integral component of many dark romances. Within stories, it is permitted to be what it is most certainly not in reality. In real life, no emotion – not even what we believe to be love – should override our individual well being or anyone else’s. This is why fiction is a safe space to explore fantasies. Even the most incredulous ones of all.

Now, about how I interpret Sauron and Galadriel, specifically, within the context of this show: It is love. They developed feelings for each other when their paths crossed unexpectedly and they forged an unlikely bond because of the circumstances they faced together. Simple. Unintentionally, Galadriel began to care for her greatest enemy and believed him to be her friend. She is still obsessed with defeating him but whatever she felt for Halbrand now exists alongside her hatred for Sauron. Meanwhile, Sauron is still pretty much evil. He is working to further his own interests or,rather,what he thinks to best for Middle Earth. But, at the same time, he desires Galadriel. Both were visibly attracted to one another in the first season. Even though no words were said, Charlie and Morfydd, being the phenomenally talented and intelligent actors that they are, conveyed it beautifully through their expressions and body language. I don’t think it is a betrayal to the characters either for the show, more or less, took Sauron’s canonical obsession with Galadriel and her persistent defiance against him and added to it a layer of romance which is doomed because of who they are. I don’t claim to know what the show plans on doing with them in future and it is not in my hands. We can only speculate, engage in wishful thinking and write fanfics and AUs if things don’t go the way we want them to.

RoP is a show I’m enjoying so far in all its aspects and I’m not exaggerating when I say that its fandom is one of the most chilled-out and relaxing ones I’ve engaged with in recent times. I’ve gotten to interact with many amazing posts. However I’m well aware that where there is more than one person, there are differences in opinions. Where there are differences, there will be disagreements. Where there are disagreements, there will be clashes. Clashes will lead to fanwars. Fanwars have high chances of turning toxic. I know the drill for I have undergone it in many fandoms. I’ve been carried away by the toxicity and have made my fair share of mistakes too. Those experiences have taught me some important lessons. One mistake I made, rather repeatedly, during my…..enthusiastic….stanning phase was to engage in fights with people whose opinions on a certain topic or fictional character differed from mine. All factions believe their interpretation of whichever nonexistent character they like in whatever made-up story they are into, is the correct one and many a times they can substantiate their claims with reasons. Sometimes, these contrasting opinions lead to some riveting and respectful discussions between people which, to be honest, is the entire point behind a public platform. Sometimes, they result in nasty fights.

Ideally, the feelings of real people should be prioritized over seemingly trivial issues like different preferences in fiction. But if we were capable of that we would all be perfect but, as we all know, perfection exists only in Valinor. Fictional works are dearer to us than some random stranger on the internet. So, when we encounter a radically different opinion about something we are passionate about, the first reaction is usually one of annoyance. Depending on whether it is mild or severe, this annoyance can make us petty. We crave the satisfaction of one-upping those who disagree with us, of validating our perspective over their’s and, as a result, we don’t realize if someone’s feelings get hurt in the process. Or even if we do, the euphoria of ‘winning’ in the discourse makes it easier to sweep the adverse effects under the rug. I don’t believe we need to withhold our opinions to make others happy. We are not bound to understand each other's opinions, much less agree every time. But we do owe it to each other to be civil if not anything else. As for me, what I’m going to try and do is to ignore the takes I disagree with and mind my own business. If it gets too much then I am going to press the block button. I advise those who dislike my opinions and takes to do the same. It’s nothing personal and we all deserve to enjoy in our own spaces while choosing what content we wish to see and engage with without suppressing our thoughts. We deserve to vent as well for it is healthy. I cannot guarantee that I’ll be successful right away for there are still instances when I end up behaving in a manner that is plain immature. But, to paraphrase the late Diarmid who once tried to counsel Sauron (Eru bless his soul), I simply have to keep trying until it becomes a habit.

So, take care everyone, and I hope you all are doing well wherever you are.

[violentkisses999]

cw: extreme vampirism, blood loss and lust, sexual tension, dubcon, death

vampire reader with an unsuspecting human wanda, that would explain how you had managed to get her backed against the bathroom counter of the ladies' restroom. the fresh blood seeping out of the scratch on her forehead to blame for your one track mind.

you couldn't lie, even before that fight broke out at the bar, she had caught your attention. throughout the night, you could feel yourself getting lost in the auburn red wisps of her mane. you couldn't help but admire as she babysat the same honey gold glass of mead.

occasionally, she'd make small talk with the bartender. though, for the most of it, she peacefully nodded her head to the pounding rhythm of the booming music.

when the physical discourse broke out, you had honestly found it amusing. the drunken women were shameless as they threw their own heels, snatched any locks of hair they could grip, and broke each other's skin.

however, when the metallic odor of sweet crimson hijacked your senses, your previous attraction to the lonely woman only heightened. as your admiree held her head in pain, the liquid in your glass rippled as your hand began to tremble. how she had gotten caught in the cross fire was a mystery to you.

you could imagine red fumes hot on her trail as your little dove fled to the restrooms. your gaping pupils were locked onto her until her figure disappeared behind the heavy swinging door. it'd been about a year since you'd felt a beating in your chest quite as prominent as this one. your head was swarmed with restraint, and your emotions blended into one abominable urge. your fingers wrung tighter around your nearly empty glass.

the binary question was served clearly: will you evade through the nearest exit that exposed you to the open world, or invade the four walls that protected the alluring beauty from your selfish bloodlust?

suddenly, your sensitive ears caught wind of distant whining. the poor thing must be trying to cleanse the open wound. maybe that was the straw that broke the camel's back, along with the feeble glass that was now left in ragged shards pulling cold blood from your own flesh.

however, this didn't hender you from running a bloodied thumb over her wound. she physically flinched and drew in a harsh breath. in the moment, you could only focus on how your bloods danced in the flickering artificial light. your's: dark and tainted. her's: innocent and bright.

you stalked closer to her, eliminating distance between the two of you. the tip of your nose grazed down the bridge of her's. softly, her face tensed into an adorable scrunch. you wanted to take her then and there. you needed to selfishly corrupt her in every way.

still, you took your time. for some sick and twisted reason, you wanted her to flee. you wanted to see her go running for her life. perhaps, you enjoyed the hunt more than you should. who could blame you, it's the best part?

wanda, on the other hand, was becoming impatient. your nimble fingers felt like rods of ice as they scooped up her plush thighs. she was effortlessly lifted onto the sink. why were you so cold? your cool breath sent goosebumps down the centre of her back as your lips settled on the valley of her neck.

your sly fingers snuck under the skirt of her burgundy mini dress, halting when they grazed over a thin piece of lace. her hips bucked needily, and the grin etching onto your features was downright malicious.

again, you lifted her with great ease. she gasped and wrapped her legs around your waist as you carried her into the stall the furthest from the entrance. you sandwiched her body between yourself and the wall, your nose still buried in the crease of her neck.

you had to refrain from tearing her slutty little dress to pieces. instead, you simply bunched it around her hips. slowly, you began to rut your belt buckle against her sodden panties. meanwhile, you probed at the throbbing heartbeat underneath wanda's skin, your blossoming fangs scratching over the bulging veins.

you could feel wanda's heels digging into your bottom as her hips met yours halfway. it's when her airy pants convert into thick moans as she fucked herself on your pelvis, you become practically feral.

what a beautiful sound. you wanted more.

her skin tasted so sweet. you needed more.

you couldn't stop your hand when it muffled her moans, not even when you both heard the squelch of blood as it dripped over the hill of her chin.

oops. you must've forgotten that you had slashed your hand open earlier. though the cut healed long ago, your cold blood still remained.

the heavy heartbeat in wanda's core conflicted with the terror she felt beating in her chest as your metallic blood seeped between her lips. being forced fed blood was the last thing wanda was expecting when you approached her.

her moans were chopped into ragged breaths as she attempted to push you away. it was like clawing at a brick wall. you were so lost in her scent, her sharp heels digging into your calfs did nothing to throw off your steady balance.

without thinking, she stretched her jaw to open her mouth. her cries for help were muffled by your hand. though they wouldn't need to be for long. as soon as her lips were unsealed, your dark blood leaked from your hand onto the tip of her tongue. in that moment, her kicking and pushing ceased, her vision blurring.

at the same time, your honed fangs pierced the thick layers of wanda's flesh. she didn't kick or scream. surprisingly, her head rested against yours and her eyelashes began to flutter.

suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your palm. did wanda just... bite you? though her dull human teeth struggled, she gnawed at your flesh until you bled. you had heard that vampire blood could be compelling, but you had never witnessed the power of your own at work.

she sucked and licked until your skin began to heal itself. then, she'd just tear into your flesh again. your nonverbal dance of blood lust intensified as you drained her neck. she groaned into your hand at the feeling. wanda tasted so sweet on your tongue. she was sinless and unmarred: a true artifact of nature.

you wouldn't dare complain. your little dove- so willing to give and so naively desperate to take. her grip around your wrist felt like a shackle of possession. she hadn't planned on stopping. so, you can imagine how disappointed she was when you pulled away from her neck. your darkened eyes observe her features as they shrunk into a disheartened pout.

you marveled at how easy it was to corrupt such a pure entity. wanda's downturned lips were smeared with your blood. a vast percentage of her eyeballs were dominated by her pupils. you could tell that her head was anything but lucid as she struggled to make eye contact with you.

after a moment of silence, wanda tilted her head forward, her lips ready to connect with yours. though before she could make it to you, your hand collared her sore neck and guided her back against the wall.

her lips pursed as you drew in closer to her. you could almost chuckle at how reactive she was. she begrudgingly sighed as your lips passed her's and stopped when they were next to her ear. her hands began to roam your arms, clutching at the thick fabric of your sweater. she couldn't help but want to be underneath your skin. her nose burying itself in the side of your face.

your free arm snaked around her back, pulling her closer to you. your tone was almost sinister when you whispered, "rest well, my little dove."

before wanda could question your command, a cruel snap cut through the silence around you two. her body immediately fell limp in your arms. her breathing ceased as the color slowly drained from her face. you had no struggle lifting her into a bridal hold and resting her head against your chest.

you couldn't help but admire her lifeless features. soon, they'll be reanimated- probably furiously glaring at you. you'd apologize for corrupting your little dove, but you'd never really regret it. wether sooner or later, she'll learn to accept the undying bond between the two of you.

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