#i know this scene has been giffed to high hell BUT

[avassharpe]

[sempersirens]

raising hell all over town

pairing: best friend's dad!joel x f!reader

summary: you've been a friend of sarah's since you were old enough to steal bottles of her dad's whiskey for parties. sarah was always the sensible one in your friendship, getting you out of the trouble you usually started. but now sarah has gone off to college, who else but joel could pick up the pieces?

content/warnings: 18+ mdni. alcohol. drugs. age gap. violence/fighting. smut: unprotected p in v, spanking

a/n: inspired by this gif set, and the wonderful @amanitacowboy & @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for introducing me to that yellowstone scene kind of nervous about this, my first proper smutty fic - i find smut really difficult to write for some reason (weird because i'm feral horny 24/7) so this was kinda out of my comfort zone but i hope you all enjoy! PSA: i no longer have a taglist! feel free to follow my updates blog @sempersirenswrites and turn the post notifs on to be notified when i post a new fic :)

Friday nights in Austin felt incomplete without Sarah by your side.

For years, she had been the epitome of your partner in crime; dragging you back to her place or putting you in a cab before the cops were called.

Had it not been for your fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Sarah, you're sure her dad would've barred you from the house years ago. Sarah was smarter than you in almost every way. Academically, emotionally, you name it.

Joel knew this, and he trusted the two of you together knowing you both balanced the other out. Watching the two of you reminded Joel of a younger version of himself and Tommy, always thankful that Sarah had followed in his footsteps as opposed to her uncle's.

Your relationship with your parents was rocky, to say the least, and the Miller's house had always been a safe haven for you. Joel had patched up your split lip or bloody nose more times than he wanted to admit for a girl your age. He swore he'd kill your old man one day for the states you'd turned up to their house in.

Still, he couldn't help but feel the urge to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you from time to time. As much as his heart broke for you, it was also in your nature to be a damn brat. Joel had endured countless stifling days spent by the pool forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the curves of your hips. He struggled to look you in the eye when he saw you sat on the kitchen counter waiting to leave for a party, your mini skirt riding dangerously high on your thighs.

There had been times when he had been reckless. Times that he'd had to pull himself away from your invisible grip on him and relieve his tension in the bathroom, fisting his cock onto the shower floor, biting down on the shape of your name on his tongue.

When he'd re-emerge into the living room, he knew that you knew. You'd look through your eyelashes at him and smile. His cheeks flushed, shame setting in at the speed at which he'd cum from the thought of your pussy clenching around his shaft.

He would never let it show, but something would rush through his body when he'd ask Sarah what the hell she do this time? He remembered one time in particular, as Sarah relayed the events of the night that had led to your bloody nose, he'd looked over at you perching on the counter. With blood leaking down your cupid's bow, you'd locked eyes with him and ran your tongue across your lip, revelling in the remnants of your victory.

Still, you had fine enough nights out with the girls from work. They just didn't get you the way Sarah did. They would shoot you judgemental glances from across the bar that lasted until the Monday back at work for whatever you had done this time that they disapproved of.

"They're just dull. You should see the way they look at me for literally just hooking up with guys." You had lamented to Sarah over the phone while you were both getting ready for your respective nights out on separate sides of the country.

"It's probably because they've seen you get through an entire friendship group before your second drink."

"Well, they should be taking notes. Tell me nobody at college is as fun as me." Jealousy tore through your chest at the thought of Sarah spending her time with new friends.

"Nobody here is as fun as you. They're very... reserved." You scoffed at her politeness.

"Babe, just say they're boring."

"I'm giving them a chance. Anyway, gotta go. Text me tomorrow and tell me the damage. Love ya!"

"Don't have too much fun without me. Love you too."

Despite their judging looks, you were always the first person they called upon to finish any mess they had gotten themselves into. Still, you were happy to oblige, even if it meant a few awkward minutes of silence at the coffee machine on Monday.

The group of you had poured out of an Uber into the busy bar around nine o'clock, buzzing with the confidence of your pre-drinks. Rounds of shots were ordered and consumed at a dizzying pace, and soon enough, bags of powder were discreetly distributed across the table.

"Bathroom?" Hannah, one of your closest and least judgmental co-workers nudged you.

"Thought you'd never ask." The two of you sauntered away from the table, hand-in-hand, quickly bundling into a tight cubicle.

The bathroom filled up as the two of you tried to be as silent as possible, scooping your pinky nails into the small bag.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Someone from outside the cubicle called, thudding her fists against the door.

"Get fucked." You called back, muttering this bitch under your breath to Hannah.

As the two of you packed your things back into your handbags, the cubicle door jolted half open, smacking Hannah in the shoulder.

"Are you fucking serious?" You shouted at the small brunette on the other side of the door, checking Hannah over for injury.

"You hit me, you bitch." She straightened herself up, rubbing her shoulder.

"I'll do worse if you don't fucking move." The brunette hissed in her face.

You screwed your face up and shoved her, making her stumble backwards into the sink. The other girls in the bathroom grabbed their bags and scurried to the exit, evidently not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

"Apologise." You said, moving toward the girl who was now pulling herself up with the help of the basins on either side of her.

"Fuck you." She spat, saliva hitting your cheek before she lunged forward.

Your fist connected with her nose before she even had time to swing, and your right hand secured a tight grip on the back of her hair.

"I said, apologise to my friend."

"I'm sorry." She choked, pathetically. Her face shrivelled in fear and pain.

"Not so fuckin' big now, are you?" Hannah said, which was ironic, considering the girl who had bruised her was now quivering under your fist.

Content with her apology, you released your grip on her and re-entered the bar with Hannah trailing behind you. As you both rejoined your table, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Our friend said you just attacked her in the bathroom." Another petite girl looked up at you, one hand on her hip.

"She hit my friend, here. Was just trying to teach her some manners."

The entirety of your group was now turned to face you, exchanging harsh whispers of your name followed by just leave it.

"You broke her nose!" The girl shrilled. You looked over her shoulder to the girl doubled over, clutching her bloody nose with an ensemble of people crowding around her.

"No, I think it just looks like that."

You grinned at the rage growing behind her eyes, your smile unfaltering even as her fist collided with your cheek.

"Harder." You shouted, rolling your neck from side to side.

"What?!"

"Come on, hit me harder. I know you got it in you." She didn't take much convincing; her next punch knocked you backwards onto the table as everyone rushed to tear the two of you apart.

You stepped forward to finally let her have it when a pair of strong hands pulled you back.

"Get off!" You shouted, kicking against who you assumed to be security throwing you out. You just hoped they weren't calling the cops, too.

"C'mon, doll. You've had enough fun for one night." A familiar Southern drawl cooed, dragging you out into the warm night. "Now, that wasn't very ladylike of you, darlin'."

He let you go from his grip and you turned to face him. To your surprise, you were met with the smirk of the younger Miller brother.

"Tommy." You breathed, "I didn't see you in there."

"Well, lucky I noticed you ain't it." He grinned.

Spending so much time at the Miller's had you well acquainted with Sarah's uncle Tommy. He'd seen you in much worse states than this, and in turn, so had you.

"Didn't need you to swoop in and save me, Tommy."

"Wasn't saving you, sweetheart. Was savin' that poor girl." You both smiled at the tone of pride in his voice.

"You got somewhere to go, trouble? Don't think you should be hangin' round here for too long."

"Can't exactly go home bleeding from my face." You sighed, realising you probably hadn't thought this through. You missed Sarah.

Tommy fished around in his pocket for his phone before raising it to his ear.

"Hey, big brother." Your stomach flipped. "No, no- it's not me. Joel, listen." You could almost hear Joel on the other end of the phone, witnessing it in person more times than you could count. It's not even ten o'clock yet, don't tell me you're locked up already.

"Our favourite little troublemaker needs a place to crash tonight. I'd drive her over but I've already had my fair share of beers. Okay, great. I'll tell her."

Once he'd hung up, Tommy told you that Joel was on his way to come and pick you up. You could feel your heartbeat in your stomach. You'd never been alone with Joel for longer than a couple of hours at most, let alone spending the night at his while Sarah was out of town. Something inside of you twitched in excitement, a warm rush settling deep in your belly.

You told Tommy to go back into the bar, that Joel wouldn't be long and you'd walk down the street to meet him in case those girls came out looking for another round.

As you made your way underneath the streetlights toward the direction of the Miller's house, you pulled your compact from your bag and touched up your make-up, re-curling your lashes and dousing a thick layer of clear lipgloss onto your lips, not bothering to tend to any of the blood trickling down your skin. You spritzed yourself with perfume and ran a brush through your hair, smiling at the thought of Joel seeing you waiting on the curbside for him.

Right on cue, his truck pulled around the corner. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers, a small smirk spreading across your cheeks.

You were grateful for your earlier decision to wear your knee-high boots with a denim mini-skirt, adding a little extra sway to your hips as you made your way to the passenger side of Joel's truck. You climbed in and turned to face him, flashing him a toothy grin, well aware of the blood staining your teeth.

"You're a damn mess, princess." Something deep inside of you came to life at his words, causing you to visibly clench your exposed thighs together. "S'there I was, thinking to myself how thankful I am for a peaceful night after workin' lates all week. When my phone rings, just as I'd sat down and made myself comfortable."

"Peace is overrated." You replied.

"So, what did you do this time? Steal another cop car? Break into a hotel pool? Make out with someone's husband?"

You played with the hem of your skirt as he spoke, blushing as he listed a few of your past activities he'd either bailed you out of or heard about from Sarah.

"I didn't start this one." You said, a slight whine in your voice. "Someone hit my friend, I was just looking out for her."

"Your friend can't fight her own battles?"

"You never have a problem when it's Sarah I'm throwing punches for."

He scoffed. "Now, you know I've always taught her to never start a fight but always to finish one. You on the other hand, I don't think nobody's taught you anythin' of the sort."

"And are you gonna be the one to do that, Mr Miller?" You mimicked his Texan accent, which was much thicker than yours, and parted your legs in your seat ever so slightly.

"If I didn't know you better, darlin', I'd think you were tryin' to get me in some sort of trouble."

He pulled into the driveway and switched the ignition off before jogging to your side of the truck and holding the door open for you, as well as offering you an outstretched hand.

"Always such a gentleman." You smiled, looking at him through your eyelashes as you stepped out, hand in his.

He exhaled out of his nose, shaking his head softly as he slammed the door shut behind you. His hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you into the house.

"Sarah's bed is all made up, I'm sure you know where her clothes are f'you wanna change into something more... comfortable." His eyes trailed down your figure, your clothes hugging all the right places.

"Do you not like my outfit?" You pouted, holding your hands behind your back and sticking your chest out, swaying from side to side.

"Course not, y'look real pretty. Just thought you'd wanna watch TV before going to sleep is all." Joel brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing his neck nervously as his eyes shifted to the floor.

For such a handsome man, he was so damn insecure. Maybe it was the gentleman in him, thinking that it was wrong for someone his age to want someone the same age as his daughter. He knew you didn't think like that, Sarah had told him multiple stories about the older men you'd hooked with at the bar.

He'd even caught you making out with a kid from your school's dad a few years ago when he'd come to pick you and Sarah up from a party. Joel had seemingly known the man, and you remembered how he'd stalked out of his truck and toward you both, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and warning him that his wife wasn't going to like hearing about this.

So, you kicked off your boots and took yourself upstairs into Sarah's bedroom. Not bothering to close the blinds, you peeled your clothes off and looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

The warmth of your earlier drinks still coated your inhibitions. You knew you looked good in your black lace set, breasts sat perkily on your chest and your ass cheeks the perfect handfuls.

Fuck it. If he wasn't going to be ballsy enough to make the first move, maybe you should.

You kissed the tips of your fingers and pressed them against a framed photo of you and Sarah giggling at whatever was going on behind the camera.

"Sorry, Sarah." You whispered, before making your way down the stairs.

Joel heard you coming but was too preoccupied fighting with the TV remote control to turn around and face you just yet.

"If I can get this damn thing to work I think they're showin' Scarface at ten, I know you said you ain't seen it so thought we could watch it."

"Sounds good," you spoke, your voice more honeyed than usual. "Hey, Joel. Do you think this will be comfy enough?"

He whipped his head around quickly, ready to give you the same kind of answer he did whenever Sarah asked for his opinion in a changing room. It took a second for him to register what he was looking at, but when it clicked he dropped the remote to the floor and turned his whole body to face you.

"What the hell," his face turned bright red, unsure what to do with his hands. You could give him a few ideas.

"You not like it?" You asked, voice low as you walked slowly in his direction.

His trousers began to tighten around his hardening cock and you smiled, glad that you were indeed on the same page.

"Course I- I, what the hell are you playin' at?"

"Come on, Joel. I gotta make up for interrupting your peaceful night somehow."

You closed the gap between you both and placed a hand delicately on his chest, tracing circles with the tip of your long, manicured nails.

Joel swallowed hard.

"This ain't right." He said weakly, his eyes betraying his words as they devoured the sight of your body before him.

"Cut the shit, Joel. I know you want me, and I want you."

He didn't answer, but instead threw you over his shoulder and carried you up to his bedroom, placing a couple of firm smacks on your ass as you wriggle against his strong grip. Your stomach did backflips, exhilarated at the prospect of what was about to happen.

Upon entering his room, he threw you roughly onto the bed and worked at undoing his belt as you scrambled onto your back, resting on your elbows.

"Y'know what I really thought when Tommy called, tellin' me I needed to come pick you up?" He said, although it didn't sound much like a question. "I thought, this dumb slut needs some sense fucking into her."

You moaned at his words, basking in the side of him that you knew always existed.

“Thought t’myself, she needs teachin’ some fuckin' manners f’once.”

Joel stalked around the side of the bed and sat and patted his lap. Wordlessly, you shifted your weight next to him and dangled your legs over the side of the bed.

He brought his right hand in between your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling of his coarse fingers grazing your skin. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your thigh, each time stopping short of the hem of your skirt.

"This is what you want, ain't it sweetheart?" He spoke lowly, voice gravelly and as rough as his touch. Each night spent tangled and alone in your sheets, fingers grazing your soaked folds with his name on your lips felt redundant. Nothing could come close to the feel of his skin on yours.

Pulling you from your trance, he slapped your inner thigh hard when you didn't respond. "Need t'hear you say it."

"Yes,' you moan through gritted teeth, surprised you can even find your voice. "This is what I need."

Sick of his incessant teasing, you clamber onto his lap and hook your fingers around the back of his neck.

"But I think you need this just as much, Mr Miller. You must get so lonely in this house all by yourself. Sarah always tells me how you never have any lady friends hanging around."

You straddle his lap and grip his neck for support, softly grinding yourself on the hardness of his lap. He moves a hand from your waist to roughly seize your chin, tipping your face down to meet his gaze.

"Your old man must've forgot to teach you some manners, little girl." His low voice tore through your body.

Joel hoists your skirt up to your waist and flips you underneath him in one swift motion. His body looms over yours, fingers trailing a rough and jagged line down to where you need him most. He moved at an antagonising slow pace, but you can't bring yourself to give into his little game by begging for more.

"Here's what we're gonna do, darlin'. You're gonna be a good girl f'me and tell daddy exactly what happened tonight." The mouth on him.

The way your body writhed and squirmed at his words didn't go unnoticed. With no warning, he plunged two thick digits inside of you and held them deep in place, his face inches away from yours.

"N'if you stutter, or lie, or say anythin' I don't like for that matter, you'll be over my knee, red-raw," his fingers curl inside of you and you bite back a moan, desperate to not let him have the upper hand.

"No matter how much you cry those pretty little eyes out, I won't quit 'til you've learnt somethin'. Understood?"

You suck a breath in through your nose, a sharp sting reminding you of the open wound still decorating your face.

"Yes, sir."

part 2 coming soon

taglist: @cool-iguana @nostalxgic @chaotic-mystery @beardedjoel

[cobragardens]

My Favorite Good Omens Moment:

An Essay on Why It Is Cool and Rad (Part 1)

There's this moment in Good Omens that makes me cackle every time I see it and leaves me full of warmth, so here's an essay on its context and meaning, because explication and analysis are how I show love. I will try to keep my thoughts as tight as possible, but they do have a tendency to spiral outwards, and I am very stoned. Come, sistren, and get nerdy with me.

My favorite moment in the series so far occurs in 1601. To approach it we will first need an assload of context. There's a TL;DR in bold at the end of the Context if you don't fancy reading the whole assload. Key arguments are in italics and bold throughout.

David Tennant gives Crowley a very consistent facial expression every time Aziraphale says something so outlandish Crowley can't quite believe he's hearing it. It's this one:

Chronologically, we see the Eyebrows of Disbelief twice before my fave moment in 1601: once (above left) in that scene on the Garden Wall that familiarizes the audience with Crowley's face before adding the dark glasses, when Aziraphale admits he's given away his sword; once when Aziraphale tells Bildad the Shuhite that he, Aziraphale, has Fallen because he lied to the angels to save Job's children.

The Eyebows of Disbelief always signal surprise and amusement with something Aziraphale has said or done. This amusement is sometimes at Aziraphale's expense and sometimes not.

In the gifs above, Crowley is laughing because what Aziraphale has just admitted to doing is fantastic and unexpected and frankly pretty gd punk rock. He's not laughing at Aziraphale, he's laughing because he is delighted with him. The only record we have thus far of Crowley laughing at Aziraphale is this one:

Crowley laughs when Aziraphale informs him--him, a demon who has personally been through the process of Falling--that Aziraphale is Fallen and must be a demon now. As though of the two of them Aziraphale is the expert on how and under what circumstances this occurs.

And yet when Crowley sees Aziraphale's distress--not his fear of being taken to Hell, but his heartbreak and lostness over the fact that his conscience has diverged from God's stated will--Crowley stops laughing, and instead he acts very kindly towards Aziraphale. He validates the gravity of what Aziraphale has done and assures him he won't turn him in. He sits with him so Aziraphale isn't totally alone (like Crowley probably was) as he goes through the loneliest moments of his existence to that point and picks himself up newly weighted with the secret he must now bear.

And after this scene (in canon as it stands thus far), we don't see Crowley laugh at anything Aziraphale says or does again.

And he really has to work for it sometimes. We talk a lot about the things Michael Sheen is able to convey with his face in Good Omens, and absolutely rightly so; David Tennant earns a chunk of his paycheck in this regard as well. If you haven't given yourself the treat yet, rewatch the scene in Will Goldstone's magic shop in 1941 and focus on Crowley's reactions:

Tennant takes great care to show, with precision, that Crowley is expending effort not to react to Aziraphale's nervous chaos Muppetry and lack of self-awareness. Crowley is self- and socially and contextually aware enough that he knows (better than Aziraphale, at least, which is not a high bar to clear) what's cringe, what's funny, what's ridiculous, how to behave. But whenever Aziraphale crosses a boundary of normalcy, or even sanity, and there is opportunity to laugh at him, Crowley very carefully doesn't react. He doesn't interrupt him, he doesn't try to correct him, he doesn't make fun of him, he doesn't even smirk; he just watches him, as stone-faced as he can manage, no matter how bizarre Aziraphale becomes.

We should be reading this lack of reaction to Aziraphale's social and rational transgressions as powerful positive action. Go watch the Doctor Who episode "Human Nature," or literally any episode of The Inbetweeners, or read or watch Regeneration, and reflect on what it shows you about English masculinity; then consider again the depth of significance in how English- and male-coded character Crowley treats English- and male-coded character Aziraphale in an England created by an English and male-codedpresenting author based off a book written by himself and another male-presenting author. Within its context of English masculinity, Crowley's lack of reaction is not a neutral stance; it is a very fucking loud show of support.

This is not even an inference; it's stated outright in the show. Crowley himself puts it into words 422 years after my favorite moment:

You know how Crowley calls Aziraphale "angel" because the factuality of the descriptor offers him plausible deniability to any Heavenly or Infernal agents who might be listening? Remember how Crowley is a great equivocator? Crowley is equivocating here, too: he's using the cover of what Maggie and Nina will take as a disparaging joke at Aziraphale's expense in order to make a perfectly sincere statement. This is his genuine perception of one of the relationship dynamics he has with Aziraphale and how he feels about that dynamic. Crowley thinks he himself is quite witty (an accurate assessment), Crowley thinks Aziraphale isn't sufficiently self- or contextually aware to hide how strange he is and therefore frequently says and does mad things (also an accurate assessment), and Crowley is Into. That. Shit.

Okay. Now let's look at 1601.

Chronologically it's been almost 1,000 years since we last saw Aziraphale and Crowley. In 537, Aziraphale isn't willing even to consider a labor-saving working arrangement with Crowley of fucking off home out of the damp of Arthurian Wessex; but by 1601, he's worked (and met, and Arranged) with Crowley "dozens of times now," Crowley says, and Azirapahle does not correct him.

In that millienium, Aziraphale has grown to care deeply about Crowley:

In fact he may be somewhat smitten with him:

Seriously, go back and watch Aziraphale here as Crowley approaches and starts speaking to him: he doesn't start smiling until he recognizes that the person speaking to him is Crowley (but he only smiles at Crowley while Crowley's not looking at him).

And Crowley is definitely become smitten with Aziraphale:

Our man(-shaped entity) is so allergic to work he sets up a meeting to weasel, cajole, or (as it happens) cheat a coin toss to get Aziraphale to do an easy temptation for him in Edinburgh, and then in the same conversation agrees to miracle a play into success because Aziraphale gives him a single hopeful look. Crowley's got it bad.

TL;DR: The Eyebrows of Disbelief happen when Crowley is surprised and amused by something Aziraphale has said or done. Sometimes that amusement is delight with Aziraphale; sometimes it is at Aziraphale's expense. Crowley is aware of this distinction, and when his amusement is at Aziraphale's expense, he suppresses it, even when it takes some effort on his own part, and remains stocially composed. This is equivocation on his part: to Celestial/Infernal operatives lacking knowledge of the intricacies of human behavior, this non-reaction would seem like neutrality; to Aziraphale, who shares with Crowley and the audience the contextual knowledge of English masculinity's utter viciousness, this non-reaction is a profound show of support; and in the safety of support from Crowley, Aziraphale lets his weirdness blossom.

As another meta points out [link if I find it again], we also see in Aziraphale's wordless request about Hamlet and Crowley's immediate understanding of it that by 1601 Aziraphale and Crowley have developed an unspoken, coded method of communication with each other.

Now that we have all of that in mind, here's my favorite moment in Good Omens:

Ixi of Fuck Yeah Good Omens has even kindly archived a closeup of the aftermath, for Crowley, of "Buck up!" In gif 4, above, you can see that the tiny smile is an involuntary reaction that happens as Crowley's eyes widen: for a fraction of a second, he's caught off-guard. In the closeup it's easier to see that he suppresses the smile and gives a tiny shake of his head, Eyebrows of Disbelief heading for his hairline.

There are a number of things Crowley's reaction could mean and what messages it could communicate (we'll get to that in a sec), but regardless, his reaction is, unquestionably, one of surprise and suppressed amusement. This is an aspect of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship and characters that I like very much, viz., that one of the reasons Crowley likes Aziraphale (though Aziraphale is judgy and occasionally, unintentionally, horrifyingly cruel) is that in addition to being one of the kindest and most courageous beings in existence, Aziraphale is mad as a bag of frogs. Crowley does not know what is going to come out of Aziraphale's lovely mouth next, but Crowley does know there's a good chance he will struggle to believe he's hearing it, and Crowley likes that.

That's what makes this my favorite moment. What makes this moment so cool and rad, though, is its ineffability. We know from the Eyebrows of Disbelief that Crowley is surprised and amused, but any of several things could be read in that almost imperceptible headshake. Like:

What are you doing? or

Why are you like this? or

How can you be aware that you say these things out loud and yet still say them out loud? or

How has my existence come to this? this moment of listening to such insanity?

each of which is a fair and just feeling to have/message to communicate to a man(-shaped entity) who is yelling "Buck up!" at Hamlet.

But that's only if we read Crowley's amusement as being at Aziraphale's expense. And I don't think we should. Because watch Aziraphale here:

He's doing it on purpose. He is shouting a hilariously inappropriate, 100% authentic Aziraphale-brand thing over arguably the gloomiest passage of Shakespeare's famously gloomy play--right after Crowley complains about its gloominess--and he is watching Crowley as he does it. Look at his smile! He knows he's being Deeply Uncool, and he is doing it literally right into Crowley's face.

Remember that we just talked about how by this point in the chronology Crowley and Aziraphale have learned to communicate with each other nonverbally through facial expression? So what does it mean when Aziraphale responds to Crowley's grumbling about Hamlet's gloominess by smiling his minxious Mona Lisa Aziraphale smile, looking right into Crowley's face, and yelling at Hamlet to buck up? Aziraphale, in a carefully coded, carefully Aziraphale way, is joking with Crowley. His silliness in this moment is for Crowley.

So with aaaaaaallllll of this essay in mind, what does it mean that Crowley's reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" is widening eyes, an involuntary twitch of his mouth toward a smile, and then, his eyebrows still showing surprise and amusement, a tiny shake of his head?

Once more, with inferences:

I do propose, y'all, on the basis of this web of evidence I submit for consideration, that what we are seeing here in my favorite moment of Good Omens is the ineffable equivalent of Aziraphale and Crowley sharing a laugh.

Crowley's amusement here isn't at Aziraphale, because Aziraphale is eliciting that amusement consciously and deliberately. Aziraphale, in good spirits and happy to see Crowley, uses his Aziraphaleness to offers Crowley not only an opportunity for amusement, but the opportunity to be in agreement with him about what in this situation is funny. They're on the same side of this joke.

And his humor lands just as he wants it to: Crowley, just for a moment, is caught off-guard, and tickled--

But remember, Crowley is worried in this scene about being surveilled ("I thought you said we'd be inconspicuous here"), and he worries about audio surveillance a lot ("Walls have ears"; "Don't say that. If my lot hear [etc.]," etc.), so he's very limited in what reactions he can show or voice. Aziraphale knows Crowley must be perceived by anyone watching or listening to disapprove of his, Aziraphale's, behavior (just as he must be perceived to disapprove vociferously of Crowley's). Both of them know this.

--so Crowley suppresses the smile almost successfully, and shakes his head at Aziraphale, minutely, to say Stop. What you're doing is working, you're close to making me laugh, and if I show how much you have just delighted me, it will blow our cover of "just an Arrangement."

I offer three final data points in advancing my argument that what we see in my favorite Good Omens moment is Aziraphale successfully attempting to joke with Crowley and Crowley recognizing that overture from Aziraphale and being momentarily surprised into a reaction of genuine delight before pulling his face back under control and indicating to Aziraphale that he must stop:

Datum 1. Nothing going on with Crowley's face in this moment is accidental. We know for sure we're not seeing David Tennant react to Michael Sheen here not only because of literally every other point of Tennant's and Sheen's performances in the show, but because Tennant is wearing opaque contacts and sunglasses under film lighting and therefore cannot be reacting to anything more compelling than a level-10-lift blur because Tennant cannot see shit. Crowley's reaction is a deliberate and careful performance choice on Tennant's part, and it's underscored by director Douglas Mackinnon's choice to film Tennant in 1/2 profile to keep Crowley's eyes visible and face readable to the audience. This reaction is supposed to be there and supposed to be meaningful.

Datum 2. The husbands in 1601 is not the only moment in Good Omens when we may be seeing an angel and a demon communicate the message Stop doing that, it makes us look too familiar between themselves with a little headshake:

Datum 3: There is another moment in Good Omens when Aziraphale offers Crowley the opportunity to enjoy a joke with him. There, too, his humor lands just as he intends, so we can use this other moment as a comparison to our 1601 moment. I don't have gifs for it, but go back and watch it, S1E6 49:27-42. Snips below.

Aziraphale says something that surprises and amuses Crowley (he asked Hell for a rubber duck while he was sloshing around in the holy water)--

--but what Aziraphale says makes Crowley smile long before it makes him laugh.

In fact, his laugh, though a genuine cackle, is quite delayed, and he laughs only after Aziraphale starts laughing too.

In other words, Crowley's reaction to Aziraphale offering him amusement they're both on the same side of is exactly the same as his reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" right up until he laughs instead of shaking his head. Here, after Armageddidn't, Crowley doesn't have to suppress his reaction, so he can let the smile bloom; he doesn't have to control his response, so, although it takes him a few extra seconds, he lets the smile turn into a laugh.

But in 1601, it's not safe to laugh at Aziraphale's humor. It's not safe even to smile at him. A single piece of evidence or eye/earwitness testimony that he and Crowley have anything more friendly than the most passing and acrimonious of professional relationships could mean death to either or both of them, and depending on what Falling is like, maybe something worse than death for Aziraphale.

But Aziraphale is so funny, so effervescent for Crowley, at Crowley, that it catches Crowley just for a moment. Crowley's eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches toward a smile.

And that's dangerous. If Aziraphale keeps acting so charmingly mad, Crowley is going to laugh, and they can't afford that risk, so he shakes his head at Aziraphale. Stop, or I won't be able to keep a straight face around you.

And Aziraphale apparently receives that message, because he immediately eases off. Less than 60 seconds later we learn that he's deeply concerned for Crowley's safety--and that it's not so much that Aziraphale has Crowley wrapped around his little finger as it is that Crowley has wrapped himself around Aziraphale's little finger like a snake arranging itself on the tree branch it calls home.

UPDATE 14/10/23: HOLY SHIT Y'ALL IT GETS EVEN BETTER! THERE IS A SEQUEL!

[chronologicalerrors]

Why Crowley Was an Archangel, And Why it Matters: A Fan Theory

Neil Gaiman has said that Season 2 is a bridging season, setting up what is to come in Season 3, which will be based on a story he and Pratchett outlined many years ago. This season is therefore moving characters into place and establishing facts and mechanics of the Good Omens universe that we need as an audience in order to understand what comes next. It moved Aziraphale back to Heaven, and removed Gabriel and Beelzebub. This season has also been heavy on the references to Crowley’s past as an angel.

Season 2 of Good Omens has been practically inviting us to speculate on who Crowley used to be. If we’d just been given that one glimpse of him in the first scene I wouldn’t make so much of it, but we also saw him return to heaven in disguise and reject an offer of being returned to full angelic status. We have to conclude that there’s been so many sustained hints at this because it will be important next season!

Some of this has already been suggested by others, but GO2 has taken over my brain and I need to write this all out. So, let’s have a look at what we already know about Crowley’s angelic past in-universe, and what else we might be able to guess at from that. 

What’s special about Crowley’s powers?

Crowley is the only demon or angel who is shown being able to stop time. When asked about this Pre-S2, Neil Gaiman said the following:

We first see him do this in Paris in 1793, and the second time to speak to Adam to avert the apocalypse at the end of S1. The first time was something he did casually, while the second required a huge burst of power – it needed to hold off Satan, after all - and happened at Aziraphale’s urging.

A: Come up with something or… or I'll never talk to you again.

(GIF from fyeahgoodomens. There’s a collection of gifs of Crowley stopping time through S1 here.)

When we see him stop time this season, in Edinburgh in 1827, it’s also directly at Aziraphale’s request:

This bit is absolutely key to me, as this establishes that stopping time is something Crowley can do that Aziraphale cannot.

This also seems tied to the crank handle of his Bentley. When Crowley has stopped time to hold off Satan, he is gripping the handle in the same way Aziraphale carried his flaming sword, and spins in when he comes to restart time.

C: I'm going to start time. You won't have long to do whatever you're going to do.

By itself, this doesn’t mean anything. Until we see the same handle at the start of Season 2, in the hands of Angel Crowley. He uses this to start up his nebula, as a tool for setting time into motion.

Is this the same handle? It certainly appears this way. Like Aziraphale’s flaming sword, was this a gift from God that he’s managed to hang on to for thousands of years (And it just miraculously happens to fit his Bentley)? It certainly seems that the Bentley crankshaft handle is more than it seems, and that Crowley can use it as a conduit for power – as he needed to when stopping time to hold off the ruler of Hell himself.

The link between this object, a relic from his time in heaven, and his rather unique ability to stop time, suggests that Crowley was once an angel of great power.

What rank did he hold?

We saw Crowley return to Heaven, in disguise, in S2 E6, with events hinting that he was once a very high-ranking angel:

So, we know for a fact he was above the level of Thrones and Dominions. So where does this place him on Heaven’s organisational chart? My analysis here is metatextual – I don’t think looking at external hierarchies of angels is that helpful to understanding the Good Omens universe, so I will only focus on what Neil Gaiman has confirmed when asked, or has been demonstrated within the world of the show itself.

Good Omens has its own Hierarchy of Heaven, but Neil Gaiman has clarified that the Archangels we see are amongst the most senior personnel in Heaven. This runs counter to many hierarchies of angels (which are often contradictory in and of themselves) but is consistent with the depiction in John Milton’s Paradise Lost as well as Jewish tradition, where the highest ranking Archangels are given the title of “princes” of heaven. “Prince of Heaven” is also a term that Metatron applies to Gabriel in S2 E6.

Of the heavenly entities mentioned in the show, we can infer the following angelic hierarchy:

God

Metatron (NG confirms here)

Supreme Archangel (Gabriel, now Aziraphale)

Other Archangels (Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon, in that order – See NG here)

Cherubim (Aziraphale at the Garden of Eden, when he was the Angel of the Eastern Gate –NG Confirms here)

Thrones & Dominions

Principalities(?) (Aziraphale after the Garden of Eden – NG doesn’t state if this is a promotion or demotion, but it feels very demotion-y)

Other lower-ranking angels (As a Principality, Aziraphale was supposed to lead a platoon of angels into battle in S1 – so there must be many levels below him – see NG here)

Scrivners (Muriel and the level Gabriel would have been demoted to. Appears to be the lowest rank in Heaven, suggested by NG here)

There are likely many other levels in-between these that have not yet been mentioned onscreen. Saraqael, for example, seems lower down than an Archangel (addressing Michel and Uriel as “your beatitudes” before approaching them in Episode 1), but above Aziraphale. You’ll notice Seraphim aren’t in this list, because they’ve not been mentioned on screen – but I suspect they do exist in this universe and are a class below Archangels but above Cherubim.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that Crowley was an Archangel, but confirms pretty explicitly that he was once near the top.

So who was he?

Neil Gaiman has stated that his name when he was an angel was not Crowley/Crawley, and the first scene of Season 2 sees a bit of redirection when Aziraphale tries to get angel-Crowley’s name:

This is quite deliberate, and sets up his name as something important to be revealed later. However, I can’t see why his name would matter to the narrative, unless it’s something recognisable from biblical canon – or, that it’s not necessarily his name, but his rank as an angel that was important.

There are numerous pointed references throughout Season 2 to Archangels, in such a way that feels like the show is setting up for this to be revealed in the future. The misdirection about Angel-Crowley’s name may have been because Aziraphale was likely to have recognised the name of an Archangel.

More than this, I personally do think, that before his fall Crowley wasn’t just any old Archangel, but the Supreme Archangel. This is based on the following 7 points (you know God likes sevens):

The very deliberate way the camera pans to Crowley’s impassive face after Gabriel says “I’m the only first-order Archangel in the room or, you know, the universe.”

2. Metatron’s statement, “For one Prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem.”

While it’s quite clear that we’re supposed to associate this line with Lucifer himself (and yes, I know NG confirms that's who this was alluding to!), it’s interesting that ‘Prince of Heaven’ is a title associated with Archangels in Jewish tradition and very specifically with Gabriel on screen in the universe of the series. That Jimbriel also repeats this line to Crowley in the bookshop specifically feels significant...

3. Crowley also recognises Metatron in the bookshop, where no other Archangel does. Metatron deliberately avoids using his name in this scene, calling him ‘demon’. Which is not inaccurate, but may suggest the Metatron remembers Crowley’s angelic name. It may also explain Metatron’s very dark look at Crowley as he exited the shop – the two of them have some history.

4. It’s never stated explicitly that Gabriel hasn’t always been the Supreme Archangel since the beginning, but there’s enough vagueness in the text to guess at this. When Michael and Uriel are discussing what to do in Gabriel’s absence, Michael and Uriel have this exchange:

M:There is, of course, no question of replacing the supreme archangel. I am the Archangel Michael, you are the Archangel Uriel. U: We aren't in charge. Right now, as of this moment, Heaven does not have a supreme archangel. M: There is always a supreme archangel.

“There is always a Supreme Archangel!” not “Gabriel has always been the Supreme Archangel!” According to some traditions, the Supreme Archangel was the first angel ever created, which would support Michael’s statement: There is always, and there always has been, a Supreme Archangel, since the time of creation. It’s possible that someone else held this role pre-Fall, and Gabriel was appointed as successor after the War in Heaven.

5. The way the other Archangels behave around him. There’s a wariness, but also a strange deference. On being discovered by Saraqael in heaven, they don’t immediately throw him out, but let him watch Gabriel’s trial – even ordering Muriel to show him it. Michael and Uriel then follow him back to Earth without much fuss, giving him quite a look, while Crowley seems to be enjoying himself:

(This also feeds into why I think Crowley looked so different during the Job segment. He knew he might encounter a few Archangels he’s not seen for a thousand years or so, and so appears in disguise.) 6. The lightening! I’ve seen someone point out that Crowley’s electric temper tantrum in S2E1 mirrors the lightening used by Gabriel to travel to Earth in S1E6. This could be a coincidence of VFX, or it could be a Clue.

7. That last conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley:

A: I don't think you understand what I'm offering you. C: I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.

That’s such a weighted statement, and could be interpreted in so many ways. But, viewed in this light, it sounds like a warning from a former angel who used to be very high up in Heaven indeed – and has absolutely no desire to return there.  

Why does any of this matter?

Obviously just theorising here…

The story is setting us up for a reveal here – Crowley’s status as an angel, and who he was before the Fall is clearly going to factor into Season 3 in some way. Why tease us with it so much and so often if it’s not important?

In terms of the narrative, a powerful revelation would be that Crowley used to have Aziraphale’s new job. That it led him to asking questions about the Almighty’s plan and then, ultimately, falling. And that the Supreme Archangel, for one reason for another, eventually turns against Heaven – it happened to Crowley, to Gabriel (after a few thousand years), and then will have to happen to Aziraphale too.

I could be way off here, but at some point the show needs to explain why Crowley is so different from other demons and has powers that no other demon or angel seems to possess. A reveal that he was once very, very senior in the organisation of Heaven, before asking too many questions and being cast out, would serve as a explanation and be a meaningful development to the narrative of Season 3.

I don’t think we’ll necessarily get a name (because we don’t need one) – but I do think we will get a rank or some idea about who he used to be, and that’s what’s going to be significant. TLDR: Supreme Archangel Crowley!?

[racergirl-112]

Push Me Over - Chapter 5: Caught or Caught up in You?

OOOO it's getting good. 😏

GIF credit to callmefirefly

The next morning, Hugh’s alarm blared, reminding him he had a movie to film, but then he looked down at the woman wrapped up in his arms. She looked so peaceful, he didn’t want to wake her, but he knew he’d get his ass kicked if he didn’t get to set. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and kissed her before slowly getting out of bed and into the shower. His thoughts of last night flooding his mind. She made him feel 25 again and their chemistry was off the charts. He wasn’t looking to jump right into another relationship so soon, but he wasn’t saying no either. 

He finished getting ready and Dani was still sleeping. He scribbled a message on a piece of paper and kissed her forehead before leaving. Keep it together man. 

Dani’s alarm went off a short time later. She opened her eyes and realized this wasn’t her place and that meant last night hadn’t been a dream after all. She rolled over to reach for Hugh, but he wasn’t there. Instead there was a note. 

Sweetheart, 

Had to get to set early, but you looked so beautiful sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll see you later on set. 

           Love Hugh

Dani pulled the sheet up with the note in her hand, a huge smile crossing her face. She wasn’t sure why in the hell this man was making her feel like a High School girl and her crush finally falling for her, but he was. She knew she’d better get a move on and get a cab to her place and get to set. 

After a record time getting back to her flat and getting ready, Dani made it to her call time with 10 minutes to spare. 

“Where were you?” her assistant Kayla asked. 

“Sorry, my alarm didn’t go off. I rushed over as fast as I could.” 

“Well, time to get you into hair and make up, so let’s go.” Dani nodded and followed Kayla. 

Hugh and Ryan were waiting for the next scene to be staged as Hugh was scrolling his phone, a smile crossing his face. 

“What’s that smile, Hugh? Are you just happy to be in a movie with your best friend?” Ryan asked, mockingly. 

“No, just having a good day.” 

“That’s not just a good day. Is someone making your day good?” Ryan asked, eyebrow raised. Hugh stayed silent. “Ah shit, Jackman is already in is slut era.” 

“Keep it down, man,” Hugh said. 

“Who’s the lucky lady?” 

“Someone and that’s all you need to know for now.” 

“Ryan, Hugh, let’s get ready to shoot,” Shawn yelled out. As they staged the shot, Dani came walking on set, watching off to the side. She caught Hugh’s sight and he smirked at her, sending that heat wave feeling through her body. What they didn’t know was that Ryan had caught the interaction between the two of them and now was questioning if Dani was the someone Hugh didn’t want to mention. 

They had been shooting all day and it was now time for the scene where Dani entered the picture. She was one of the superheroes who had been banned to the void and was helping Deadpool and Wolverine get to the others to get out. 

“Alright,” Shawn began. “Stargazer, is going to find you two in the minivan and take you two back to the lair. There will be some witty banter and we’ll go from there. And action.” 

********************

Deadpool and Wolverine are lying outside the minivan after the fight sequence. The sun has begun to rise and Wolverine slowly begins to open his eyes. Above him stands a beautiful brunette and he thinks he’s dreaming. 

“Hey, hey, are you two dead,” Stargazer asks, standing over the two of them. 

“Wait, you’re real?” Logan grunts, clearly in pain. Stargazer feels down her body. 

“Last time I checked, I feel pretty real. Maybe it's because you’re 200 years old or something.” Logan snarls, but is fucking turned on at the woman standing before him. 

“Yeah darlin’, I’d say you look pretty real and so does your smart mouth.” Stargazer rolls her eyes as Wade begins to stir with a smartass response. 

*********************

“And cut,” Shawn yelled. “Ryan, want to come take a look to see if we need to re-shoot anything?” Ryan looked at Hugh and Dani and walked over to where the cameras were set up. 

Dani stood there, waiting for her next direction. All the thoughts of that scene and her being here were racing through her mind when she heard someone say something. 

“You did a great job,” Hugh said, breaking her from her thoughts. 

“Thank you. It was pretty nerve-wracking. Good thing I already have a smart mouth, or so I’ve been told,” she smirked. 

“You’re playing with fire princess,” he groaned. Shawn called Hugh over to look over something, but before he walked away, he heard Dani say something. 

“Good thing I love setting fires.” Hugh knew this woman was going to be the death of him. 

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 4

WHEN I TELL YA’LL I FEEL LIKE A KID IN A CANDY STORE WITH THIS SHOW!

It’s giving me so many things I wanna talk about and scream about and I WILL but I wanna talk about the expressions first because they were once again excellent. Peat officially sits at Poom Phuripan’s “I love everything you do with your face” table.

The two most dejected, disappointed men on the whole island. They’re about to be parted and they both hate it so much they can’t even speak for a few moments. (There’s something else I started to notice happening here too but that’s for another time)

Being sad isn’t going to stop Mut from teasing and Tongrak from getting annoyed, but just look at these two faces. We went from annoyance to looking like the saddest kitten ever in seconds as soon as Mut mentioned saying goodbye. Forget not wanting to say goodbye upset, Tongrak doesn’t want to say it at all.

If I saw Mut make this face after saying “I’m used to it” after I was unable to keep a promise I made to him, I would do everything I could to stay with him.

And so would Tongrak, which is why he tried again to make it work as soon as he saw it because he took that promise seriously. It was at this moment that he resolved to never disappoint this man ever.

Curiously amused with a sprinkle of hope, to sad, to putting on a brave resigned face. All within microseconds of each other to personally devastating effect.

I’m really starting to lament my lack of gif making talent. I would gif every frame of this scene if I could. I would also hit my image limit immediately if I included every face I loved in this scene so I’m moving on but! I had to include this face because it’s the face of a someone who won’t say he’s in love but who ALSO won’t let go of his menace of a man come hell or high water. Pero he’s not in love.

Sure, Jan.

Actual literal angel vs. “tell me I can’t, I dare you” vs. just-got-smacked-in-the-head levels of shock. Poetic cinema.

I loved watching Tongrak watch Mut to see what he’ll do now that they’re in a different environment. He really is so patient in such an interesting way. He’ll watch, but only for a little bit. When a boundary is so much as approached, he steps in and says something. He doesn’t baby Mut but there is very much a line in the sand for him where Mut is concerned and he doesn’t allow it to be crossed.

I see you seriously thinking about stairway s*x, Tongrak, you can’t get things by me.

We’ve arrived at the line in the sand event horizon. Although Tongrak is very patient, he does lose his patience a couple of times with Mook but he doesn’t ever raise his voice at her. He just makes a face in his vein and firmly but gently reestablishes boundaries.

Mut has been a sugar baby for less than 24 hours but already he has the expression of a man who knows he has pride of place.

Also Mook, my dear frazzled girly, if you clutch those pearls any harder your fingers are going to cramp.

We had already passed the patience event horizon when this face happened so I actually did think for a second that Tongrak was going to snap at her. He didn’t quite, he just stopped her with her full name, but to me this is the closest he got all episode.

“What are you going to do next?” Mook asked. “Eat a canary,” this expression replied.

I look at Mut like this, too.

A menace. An entire fucking menace, I want him carnally.

So does Tongrak. B*reback on the stairs.

He pictured it and had to dial back into the conversation lmao

Another moment of waiting and watching. Tongrak was about to go shower, heard what he thought could turn into Mook saying something that crossed the line to Mut, and stopped to wait and see where the conversation went before he actually went upstairs. He will not allow anyone to be nasty to his sugar baby.

*sings ‘I Won’t Say I’m in Love’ under my breath*

Throughout this whole contract scene, you can see Mut get hit with…I don’t think it’s a full bucket of cold water, but certainly a splash. I’m sure part of him thought that getting swept off to Bangkok would be more romantic and less business-like but I don’t personally read this as disappointment, although it easily could be read that way.

To me he has the expression of someone who’s had all the cards laid out in front of him, has read them, and is currently reworking his perception but who still absolutely knows what he’s about. This man has not been deterred by this contract.

A face that very clearly says, “oh I like you”. Sorry, Mook, Vivi cannot help you because she plans to help Mut win her best friend over instead.

And Mut likes Vivi too! I hope they become menace besties. Pour one out for Mook now because they aren't gonna let her rest.

Again, it would be very easy to read this as resigned disappointment and I think Tongrak does at first. I think he even wonders if he was too harsh about not believing in love but really, all Mut is doing is doubling down in his mind before he does so out loud.

One of these two men does not yet understand what they just signed up for, and it sure as hell ain’t Mahasamut.

I finally hit the picture limit but the rest of the episode is just Vivi and Mook shopping so it’s fine. This show is a feast and I am not done talking about it by a MILE.

[portaltothevoid]

you're losing me part iv -- copia x reader, ex!terzo x reader

Summary: Your cheating ex is the leader of the Satanic church and you caused a scene in front of the whole congregation. You've been summoned to meet with him, alone, to be served your punishment. Turns out, you're destined for more than you could ever imagine...

A/N: buckle up buttercups, you're in for a doozy. please read the warnings. also this is my first time writing real smut please be nice to me. this little idea i had has grown into something i never thought it would and it is my overflowing cup of reason to live juice. and yes i switched gifs around because i'm new here and found the perfect one for part iii soooo did a little switcheroo. ps there’s a lot of lyrical easter eggs for my fellow swifties

songs: coney island by tswizzle, tempt me by stone nobles (please check out this band, i beg of you. trust me.)

word count: 8.4k (😬😬😬)

warnings: (this chapter deals with some dark stuff) dubcon, manipulation, talk of self-sabotage, flashbacks, oral (f!receving), fingering, p in v, rough sex, choking, fingers in mouth, allusion to panty-sniffing kink (kinda), horror elements, allusion to degradation (the bad kind), female reader, terzo heavy, google translate latin, some google translate italian (i took it in high school but that was forever ago, so i tried?)

“A summons?” you gasped jumping up from the couch. “A summons?! Oh, great. Perfect. Wait, what exactly is a summons?” 

“It’s a meeting with Papa… alone…” Copia said, his voice balancing on the edge of feigned calmness and panic.

“Why the fuck does he need to see me alone? He can’t excommunicate me without witnesses, right? …Right?!” Your voice was rising in pitch as you started to pace around the living room. 

“I-I don’t know, tesoro. No matter what happens, eh, I don’t think he’ll let you go that… easily.”

“Okay, okay, we just have to remain calm and- and think about this rationally. I-it could just be the slap on the wrist for the outburst, right?”

“Maybe…”

“Then again, if I’m alone in his office it’ll probably be a slap across my ass,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes. Copia couldn’t even respond, he just made a growling sound from deep inside his chest. You held your hands up defensively. “I’m just saying.”

“If so much as lays one finger on you–”

“He won’t,” you interrupted. “What happened after I left mass?”

“I got up to run after you and the fucker, very condescendingly, reminded me…” he trailed off as a realization smacked him across the face. “He reminded me I was to lead the closing prayer, which he assigned to me at the last minute. Cazzo! Quel figlio di puttana (Fuck! That son of a bitch…) planned this. He knows what he’s fucking doing,” he fumed.  “That’s why he couldn’t wipe that fucking smirk off his face.”

“Oh fucking hell, we are so fucked,” you groaned, sitting back down on the couch with your head in your hands.

“Eh, maybe not if we’re already figuring out his plan?”

“True... Okay, so… we just have to think like Terzo.” A repulsed shiver went down your spine at that thought alone. “His comment to me was planned. He wanted to get under my skin. Point for him. I spat wine in his face and told him to fuck off in front of literally everyone. Point for me. But he was testing me to see my reaction or maybe it was just to test your reaction, or both? Either way, it didn’t matter because he made it so your duties came first no matter what I did… Point for him. He’s in the lead and now I’m gonna have to be in his office tomorrow. Great. Just fucking great.”

“So he’s going after me now too…” Copia sighed as he ran his hands through his hair.

“N-no. Not just you.” Your voice faltered as you felt your insides do a somersault. A realization of your own drained every emotion from your face. “He’s going after us. He’s going– He’s gonna try and break us apart.” Copia looked up at you, dumbfounded. Of course. Of course that’s exactly what Terzo was doing. 

“If he can’t have you, no one can…”

“Do you remember what a big fucking deal it was to get me on the books for living with him?” Copia nodded, not liking where this was going. “I… I never officially moved out… I just… came here. He’s… he’s going to reassign my living quarters tomorrow. That's what this has to be about.”

“Oh Satana mio…(Oh my Satan)”

“Call Sister Imperator. Right now. She can rush the paperwork, can't she?”

“Amore, even if we could, he’d still have to sign off on it in the morning,” he sighed.

“I can’t just sit here and wait for morning. Even if that’s not what the summons is going to be about, at least let’s cover our asses. Now… Call. Her.”

He ignored the warmth that traveled up his body from you being stern and demanding with him and started the call to their superior. She answered right away and you were sitting on the edge of the couch. “H-hi, uh, hello, Seestor. I’m sorry it’s so la– Sì. She received the summons… Eh, sì, that’s why I’m calling you… No… Okie dokie, Seestor.” He hung up the phone after that.

“Did you really just ‘okie dokie’ Sister Imperator?”

Copia just shrugged. “She’s expecting us in her office.”

“Hmph!” you hummed triumphantly as you got up. “Told ya we needed to call her.”

He rolled his eyes at your gloating. “Andiamo, anidamo (let’s go, let’s go),” he said as he placed a hand on the small of your back, letting you lead the way out of the apartment.  

Copia knocked swiftly on Imperator’s door. Seconds later it was opened. “Come in. Quickly!” she hissed. The Sister took her seat at her desk, while you and Copia sat in the chairs in front of her. She stared at you, her lips pursed. “That was some stunt you pulled at mass today, Sister.” 

“I-I… he… I’m–” you stuttered and then abruptly shut up when she held her hand up.

“I knew of the nature of your relationship with Papa and I know that it is no longer. I know of the infidelity… on both your parts. Save the apologies. I heard what he said to you. When I was your age… I would have acted similarly… I did not bring you both here because of that incident. Clearly Papa Emeritus III is out of control and it’s only going to get worse.” She spoke matter-of-factly. There was no animosity in her voice towards you, this was strictly business.

“I think he’s going to try to separate Copia and I,” you blurted out quickly. You winced at the frantic tone of your voice.

“Yes I know. I have your room transfer papers ready. Luckily, it’s before midnight, so tomorrow he won’t have a say in where you end up since this is already being put in motion. Sign here and here,” she pointed with her pen as she spoke and handed a clipboard over to Copia who then passed it to you.

“Do you… do you know what else is going to happen tomorrow? At the summoning?” you questioned timidly.

“No. I only caught wind about the transfer. But, Sister, you must be prepared. We are thwarting his plans. Whatever happens tomorrow, you cannot retaliate via a spectacle. I am fully on your side here, but we need to bide our time.”

“So… What? I’m just supposed to take the public humiliation and whatever else he’s gonna throw in my face?”

“I think what Seestor is trying to say, cara, is that behind closed doors you can say anything you want to him, but whatever you say to him, we don’t know if he will retaliate right then or wait to strike,” Copia said calmly.

Sister Imperator gave a short nod in agreement. “Your reactions have to be calculated. You cannot let your emotions get the best of you in the moment. You’ve done so well holding yourself together, I know you are capable of this.”

You felt the weight of everything come crashing down on you, overwhelming you. All you could do was chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I know you know this more than anyone, Sister,” Imperator continued, “Terzo is out of control and out of line. This is becoming nothing but a game to him. As Papa, he feels no one has the power to tell him no. At the rate he is going, he will only bring ruin to this Ministry. And I, for one, will do everything in my power to keep that from happening. I know Cardinal Copia feels the same.”

He nodded. “Sì, Seestor. I do.”

“I will do whatever it takes, Sister.”

“Do you know why your role is so vital to this?” Sister Imperator questioned. You shook your head. “You were the only one that could tame Terzo. For a while, I had thought we found our solution to our problems with him. But he is a wild animal. No amount of domestication will tame that beast. You also possess magical and ritual talents well beyond your years. You are a very valuable asset to the church as a whole. If all goes according to plan, your efforts will be regarded in the highest favor from the Dark Lord himself, I’m sure.”

You were too stunned by her praise to notice that Copia shifted uncomfortably. Sister Imperator shot a glare at him to stop before you looked up from your hands. “I– Um, thank you, Sister.”

She gave you a stiff nod as she began to organize the papers on her desk. “Oh, and, Sister? Should anything happen to you, be it comments or gestures, report it to myself or Cardinal Copia. Immediately. If I am preoccupied, tell someone or myself that you have a very important document for me to review. Understood?”

“Yes, Sister,” you nodded.

“Very well then. I will have this processed and on Papa’s desk by sun rise.”

Copia got up and bowed to Sister Imperator. He held out his hand for you to take your leave. Just as you both were a step away from the door, you turned back to her desk. “Sister Imperator?” you asked innocently.

“Hmm?” she murmured without looking up at you.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

She finally looked up at you, her eyes darting between you and Copia. An uncharacteristically warm smile spread across her face. “No need to thank me yet.” Her demeanor turned back to its usual stoicness. “Now go get some rest. The both of you. You’ll need it.”

~~~~~ 

Even though you somehow managed to fall asleep, you felt like as soon as you drifted off, you heard the incessant beeping of Copia’s alarm. You rolled to face the ceiling and groaned, but didn’t allow yourself any more time in bed. You wanted this over with. You had no idea what was about to happen. Delaying it wasn’t going to solve any problems. Reluctantly, you got up and showered quickly, putting on your makeup afterwards. While Copia got ready for the day, you searched your side of the closet, trying to decide the best approach for this summons.

Earlier last week, while Terzo was tied up in meetings, you and one of your favorite Ghouls went back to the place you once called home and packed up the rest of your things. When you brought in the last box, and the Ghoul was to return to his post, he gave you his signature straight-lined, toothy smile, something he rarely did around humans. He stood at your side and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, nuzzling his head into you. The affection was so endearing you didn’t mind his mask slightly clunking against your head.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Swiss,” you told him. He had caught you crying on more than one occasion, always wiping your tears away or badly misbehaving around Papa when he realized that’s who was the reason for your sadness. “Don’t forget about me, okay?” you laughed delicately. The Ghoul put both their hands over their heart and shook their head. How could they ever forget the one person who treated them like an equal and not as just a devout servant or like some kind of pet? 

His shoulders slumped when it was time for him to go. You put your hand on the side of his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and said, “Be on your worst behavior for Papa. Be the best little shit I know you can be for me, alright?” He perked up and nodded excitedly, happily accepting this task from you. “There we go, that’s my favorite Ghoul,” you smiled warmly and scratched under his chin as his tail swished. He flashed you one more of his signature smiles before turning heel and heading back.

You sighed. “I miss the Ghouls,” you grumbled as you continued to flip through all the clothes you had hanging. You could wear something plain, albeit respectful, just what all the Sisters wore day-to-day. Maybe something more formal… But then you found it. It was a dress you saved for special occasions and events and luckily for you, you had yet to wear this one. A devilish smile went across your face. 

Looking in the mirror, smoothing out any stray wrinkles, you nodded to yourself. You looked hotter than hell. You had your wimple on, but pulled some hair out to have it frame your face. You fluffed your bangs, then applied your red lipstick. Yeah, this’ll do.

You walked out of your room, causing Copia to look up from his phone. He almost choked on his coffee at the sight of you.

The dress was a black satin that hugged your body. Leaving very little to the imagination, it had a plunging neckline and an open back. Its asymmetrical hem fell just above your left ankle, while the right side hit the top of your thigh, showing off your whole leg when you walked. On that leg, you had a garter with a single Grucifix dangling from it, made of black diamonds. It had been a gift from Terzo, you only hoped it added insult to injury. For shoes you wore simple, black, strappy stilettos. 

“Y-you’re wearing that for h-him?” he stuttered in shock.

You grinned a Cheshire cat smile as you walked over to him. Tilting his head to the side you were on, you leaned down and kissed him. Your hand trailing down his chest, a finger dragging across where his pants started under his cassock. “Oh, caro, this dress isn’t for him. I’m dressing for revenge.” You dragged the hand holding his head across his jawline as you pulled away. “You got a little…” you said quietly as you used your thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth. He could only stare at you as you walked towards the door. His eyes wide and filled with lust. “Meet me back here for lunch,” you said, your tone commanding. You looked over your shoulder with a delightfully sinful grin to see Copia nodding fervently. 

Just before you stepped out to leave, he called out, “Be careful, amore. Per favore.”

“Always am,” you responded as you shut the door. Taking one long, deep breath, you began your trek to the summons.

Dark Lord, give me the strength to mask my emotions, to not let them overpower my actions. Please, give me your strength and guidance to get through this. Nema, you thought to yourself, eyes closed and focused as you stood outside his office and set your intention. You elegantly knocked on the door.

“Entra.”

Let the battle begin. 

He sat with his elbows on his desk, chin perched in his folded hands. You felt him eyeing you as you walked over to the chair across from him, sizing you up. His face dropped slightly, taken aback by your appearance. His lust for you consuming him.

“You did this all for me, sorella? Or would you still prefer I call you tesoro mio?” His voice was sultry, dripping with sweet honey. It made you sick.

“Sorella is fine, Papa. You summoned me, I only thought it best to wear something more formal,” you smiled politely. 

“I always did like the way you think…” he mused under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear. You ignored the comment. “Do you know why I summoned you, tesorino?” 

Your expression held firm as you kept your air of professionalism intact. “I can only assume it has to do with the incident from mass.”

“Actually, I wanted to discuss your living arrangements. But you see, a very curious thing happened. There were already papers on my desk dealing with just that. Isn't it funny how quickly things can get done when you know the right people, hmm?”

“I see it as a blessing. The Dark Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“That He does, that He does…” his smile showed he was impressed by your response and ability to dodge the question, but his tone suggested he knew the move was calculated. “Well, with that out of the way now, I suppose we have time to talk.” He looked at you through his lashes. He softened, his voice quieter. Was this his way of waving the white flag? You weren’t talking to Papa now, you had Terzo in front of you. The real Terzo. However, you weren’t about to drop your guard so easily.

“What is there to talk about, Papa?”

He shook his head, his expression forlorn. “This isn’t business anymore.” When he looked up at you, he dropped any and every mask he was wearing. Even behind his papal paints, you could see how broken and defeated he actually was. “You left… and then I returned home one day and… every trace of you was gone. Poof. As if you were never there. As if we never happened…” he took a deep breath, it was unsteady. He bit his lip in an effort to control his emotions. You stared numbly at him. “Do you remember the first night I stayed with you? When you were sick?” he whispered.

Of course you remembered. How could you forget? You had a nasty cold. You texted him early that day, telling him you were sick and you’d have to reschedule dinner. He told you to rest and get better and that he would see you soon. You didn’t think ‘soon’ meant him showing up at your door later that evening with two quart containers of minestrone soup (that he made himself from his nonna’s recipe (and with Primo’s guidance)) and a bouquet of flowers.  

“What are we watching, tesoro?” he asked as he settled in behind you, holding you, arm wrapped around your waist. You felt guilty having him there. 

“You really don’t have to stay. I mean I don't want to get you sick and… Really, I’m fine on my own, especially now that I have soup!” 

“Amore. Just because you do well on your own doesn’t mean you have to be on your own, hm? I'm here because I want to be, because la mia ragazza preferita (my favorite girl) is sick. If we fall asleep watching tv, then we sleep! There’s no use arguing with me, you know,” he said as he pulled you closer to him and pressed gentle kisses on your neck. “I'm staying– right– here.” His voice was muffled from barely taking his mouth away from your neck as he punctuated each word with a kiss. The affection made you bubble with laughter.

“I'm glad you’re here,” you said shyly. It was at that moment you knew you had a difficult conversation ahead of you. One that could make or break your relationship with Terzo, but you were falling for him. Hard. Nothing could stop your momentum. He had a reputation and if he loved you like he said he did, he’d commit to you. Wouldn’t he?

He let out a content sigh that pulled you out of your thoughts. He nuzzled into your shoulder. “Sono tua. Tutta tua.” He paused before adding, “Solo tua.” You froze. Did he read your mind? Did he feel the same as you? (I am yours. All yours. Only yours.)

“Solo mia? Davvero?” (Only mine? Really?)

“Sì. Sì,” he murmured affectionately as he placed a kiss on your temple. “There's no one else I want to share my time with. You’re all I think about, all I dream about, amore. You ground me. Make me feel like… I'm not… I’m not as— You make me feel like I'm worth loving. I want… us… I want to be esclusivi with you.” A sudden bashfulness came over him that you had never seen before. He was also so cool and collected, but you could tell just from the sound of his voice and the way he was fidgeting, tapping his fingers on your arm as he spoke that he was nervous.

You rolled over and cupped his face, searching his eyes with nothing but adoration. “Promise me then. Promise me, I’ll be the only one. Promise me, I’ll be your only one.”

“Te lo prometto. I promise you. You have my word, amata.”  

 “If you get sick this is on you. It’s so not my fault,” you jested as you poked his chest. 

His eyes lit up. “Will you take care of me if I do?” 

You swept his bangs away from his eyes. “Certo, amore.” His eyes scanned your face like he was trying to remember every single detail of it. “Okay, then I have no regrets about doing this and accept the consequences,” you added as you grabbed his face and kissed him. He deepened the kiss, turning and pulling you on top of him. You couldn’t help but giggle. This was it. You both were in it for the long haul. There was no going back now. 

You pursed your lips and rolled them together as you tore yourself away from the now painful memory. You couldn’t help but wonder, if that was the long haul then how’d you end up here so soon? 

“I do… but forgive me, what does that have to do with anything?”

He was focused on his hands in front of him as he anxiously tapped his fingers together. “Could you ever look at me again the way you did that night? Could you ever love me again?”

“Do you know how many nights I spent wondering where that Terzo had gone?” you snapped as you countered his amative question with one of your own that had been frozen in ice.

“I have always been here, tesoro,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes again.

“Do you remember what you said to me that night? What you promised me? How you were all mine? Only mine?”

“Sì, ricordo (I remember)…” he muttered. The quietness of the room made your ears ring. With so many conflicting emotions running through your veins, the strongest made your blood begin to simmer.

“Then why? Why wasn’t I ever enough for you?” The questions flew out of your mouth before you could even debate betraying your strictly-business-like demeanor. Your voice tinged with desperation, devastation, and nostalgic longing. You wanted to hate Terzo. You wanted to. Most of the time now you did, but here he was in front of you. You sacrificed so much for him, for your relationship, you set all politics aside. Right now, you merely wanted answers to the thoughts that had kept you lying awake countless nights.  

His breath got caught in his throat. It was as if he physically reacted to your words piercing through his heart. He stared at you, mouth slightly hung open in shock at both your question and the revelation of the consequence of his actions that it brought. Suddenly, he was on his feet, gliding over to you. Your chair had been far enough away from the desk that he was able to kneel in front of you. He placed his gloved hands on your knees. 

Your jaw clenched. You saw right through what he was trying to do. Act as if it was the first time you confronted him. The first time you caught him. 

The memory flooded your senses making you relive the moment when you returned to your apartment and sat at the table, waiting for the door to open. You didn’t even bother to turn on a light. Copia had walked you back after he literally ran into you as you tried to flee from one of your worst nightmares. It had taken you an hour or so to even begin to calm down. The clock neared eleven and he still wasn’t home. 

He expected to find you already asleep, but he saw you waiting for him, still dressed, makeup ruined. The rage and hurt that radiated off you hit him like a brick wall as soon as he walked in and turned on the light. “Amore, what are you–”

“How was your day?” you asked plainly, staring at your hands folded in front of you.

“Lots of meetings,” he let out a tired sigh. 

“Your last one ran really late. Is everything okay?” 

He froze for a split second as he started to take off his gloves. He cleared his throat. “Yes, you know, just lots of red tape to sort through while the Ghost tour is being planned.” His voice became just unsteady enough to let you know he feared this was becoming an interrogation.

You nodded. “Hm, I thought that meeting was scheduled for next week.” For the first time since he returned, you looked over at him. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning away from him to look at your hands again. 

“I-it got moved up suddenly. Mi dispiace, I thought someone had told you…” he muttered, making his way to the bedroom.

“Ah, yes, I’m sure Sister Thérèse just got tied up with someone… I mean something else. I haven’t seen much of her lately, or at all really, though I’m sure you have.” You turned to see him come to a complete standstill the moment your tone darkened. Slowly, he turned to you. He opened his mouth to stutter out something, but your voice was sharp as a sword. “Don’t.”

“I can explain–”

“Oh, I’m sure you can. There just has to be a reasonable explanation as to why you were balls deep inside her in a random office. And I’m sure there’s another for why the door was left ajar. Usually I would have just kept walking, but there was this very distinctive, very familiar voice. ‘È tutto. Ragazza bene. Sì, sei la mia ragazza preferita. È tutto (That’s it. Good girl. Yes, you’re my favorite girl. That’s it),’” you did your best mocking-impression of him you could muster. “I thought ‘Hmm, I’ve heard that somewhere before. There’s no way it could be..’ Well, sure enough, peaking through that crack in the door, there you were! And now… here we are.”  You were so beyond furious that you appeared calm.

He stood there, still frozen, locked in place. You could see the fear in his eyes. If it weren’t the papal paints on his face you could have seen his color fade. When he finally was able to speak, his voice wavered, sounding close to a whimper. “Are… are you going to leave me?”

Your fists clenched and you let out a huff of air. “I’ve thought about it, but given the nature of everything, I just can’t up and leave you.” A silence hung in the air. “How the fuck did it get to this point?” Your voice cracked as you repressed the tears that started to rise to the surface.

He jolted forward, rushing to you, kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Please, please, amore. I’d– I’ll do anything for you. Amata mia. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Mi dispiace. Mi dispiace.” Sobs rippled through him as he cried at your feet. All you wanted to do was pull him up by his hair and slap him so hard across the face, it would have woken the whole floor up, then scream at him to stop crying. You knew you couldn’t do that. That wasn’t you. So you sat there, silent and stoic, your whole body tense.

After he calmed himself down slightly, his watery eyes gazed up to your towering form. “You promised me,” you breathed through your teeth out of fear that any extra movement would cause you to break down just as he had. You refused to give him the satisfaction. 

“I know. I know I did. I… I ruined everything.”

“Why, Terzo? Why did you do it?”

“I… Non lo so.” His lips barely moved as he breathed out words you didn’t care to hear.

You slammed your fist on the table, abruptly pushing yourself out of your chair, needing to get away from his touch. “When are you gonna fucking let me in, Terzo? Huh? This whole ‘us’ thing really won’t work if you don’t ever tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“I-I-I don’t know! She was just there! And– and I knew how wrong it was. I know… but I couldn’t stop. I… I was bored and–”

“You… you were… You– You were bored,” you scoffed. “So I bore you enough to go fuck a  wanna be Prime Mover whore?”

His head dropped in his hands. He moved them up through his hair which he gripped so tightly his knuckles turned white and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant,” he groaned.

“Ooh, do enlighten me then!”

“I can’t tell you why I did it, because I don’t know. Veramente (Truly), I don’t know. It’s just– Everything was going so well. Perfect almost. You were taking everything being thrown at you in stride. Your ideas for Ghost, the way you keep me on track, the way you… You were just you. Always there. Always by my side.”

“So you just had to go and fuck it up.”

His shoulders slumped, his jaw clenched. “I don’t deserve you, tesoro. I never did…”

There it was. There was the answer to the multi-million dollar question. You felt your heart shatter as he sat there in his hurt. You scurried over to him, dropping to your knees, holding his face between your hands. With a shake, you forced his dichromatic eyes to find yours. “But you do, Terzo. You do. Satan, I give you everything I have, every day, to show you that.” He turned his head away from you. Your words only made him feel like you were proving his point. “Look at me,” you commanded with another shake. “Before I came here, I didn’t have anything or anyone. I had nothing. When I found you… when you took an interest in me, the kind of person who never had the guts to stand out or be noticed, who didn’t even think they were special enough to catch anyone’s attention, never mind yours… It’s because of you I can even see myself in a different light. Don’t you think someone capable of that deserves someone just as special?”

The kindest words that were ever said to him, the most genuine words, always came from you. He loved you more than anything he could possibly imagine. He knew lately he’d done a piss poor job of proving that to you. He could see the cuts he was inflicting on you. He hated himself for it. He needed you by his side for so many reasons. He needed you to keep him in line. If you ever stopped… If he ever let himself completely lose control… If you ever left him… He couldn’t even imagine the monster he would become.

You didn’t know the depths of the internal battle he was waging on himself, you saw enough of it on his face to know his struggle was heart-wrenching. You loved him. Yes, he royally fucked up, but you still loved him. “We can work through this,” you whispered, moving yourself to intercept his blank stare.

“Will you ever trust me again?”

You winced at the memory. Everytime he came close to regaining your trust, he would do something to break it. Over and over again. 

“It was never you who wasn’t good enough, amata mia. You know that,” he purred as his satin covered hands slid up your thighs, taking your dress with them slowly. He paused as his fingers brushed your garter. He toyed with the Grucifix that dangled from it. That he had given you. He smiled affectionately at it, before his devil may care smirk returned. You wearing that wasn’t an insult to him. It was a sign of subconscious devotion. 

This was the real Terzo. You chastised yourself for falling for it, yet again. Always a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a lesson you just couldn’t seem to learn. “I am the one who was never worthy of you.” His eyes were locked onto your core. He then stood up, parting your legs by wedging himself between them. As he did so, he dragged his dual-toned irises up your body until they locked with yours. His pupils fully blown out, his breathing became heavier. His lust could only be described as animalistic.

Your words formed a lump in your throat, unable to escape.

He towered over you. His hands grazed along the sides of your entire body. He ripped off your wimple. Your face scrunched at his roughness. One hand, then, settled around your neck, squeezing it, as he put his mouth by your ear. “There is so much for you to learn. So much I have to teach you, demonino mio.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, roaring thunderously in your ears. You felt your blood go from a simmer to boiling. “I’m not your little demon,” you growled as you spat in his face. The hand on your throat swiftly moved to your chin, his grip painful enough to fear it might bruise. He forced you to look at him, to look at his knowing smirk. He knew something you were clueless about. 

“Mmm, C’è la mia ragazza (there’s my girl),” he cooed. He kept your face locked in place as he licked your spit off his face, making you watch. Your eyes burned with a ferocity you’ve never felt before. “Satanas, I’ve missed you,” he sighed.

He breathed out a laugh as he unexpectedly dropped to his knees again. Your dress had already moved up so much, nothing was hidden. He pushed your legs open wider as he dove between them, running his nose along your core, inhaling deeply.

“Terzo, stop,” you demanded, trying to squirm your way out of his hold.

“You know you don’t want me to.” He moved up slightly, so his throat was flush against you. When he spoke, it sent undeniably pleasurable shockwaves through you. 

“No. Fucking stop! No!” You tried to leap up and push him away from you, but he was stronger and faster. Easily he took your arms and pinned you to the chair, of which you were barely sitting on the edge of in your struggle. 

His eyes darkened, his head swayed back and forth as he tutted at you. “Sei stata una ragazza molto cattiva (you have been a very bad girl).” Your arms would surely bruise as he put even more of his weight onto them, further constricting his vice grip he had on you. Relentlessly you still tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp. 

Stop fighting, my child… A calming, almost sultry voice, yet somehow also one of safety, rang through your mind.

Terzo pushed his face into the crook of your neck, biting down where it met your shoulder. You cried out as you continued your attempts to writhe away from the monster in front of you. He licked the mark and dragged his tongue all the way up your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot behind your ear. The line between pain and pleasure was beginning to blur. “If you keep trying to fight me, la mia stellina oscura (my little dark star), or you so much as breathe one word of this to a certain Caridnale, he will find himself back in Italia for a very, very long time…” Your body ceased movement. His stronghold on you loosened as he descended once again. “Ora, dimmi, amore, that you don’t want this (Now, tell me, love).”

Give into temptation, my child. The voice rang out again, echoing throughout your mind like a spell to sedate your frayed nerves. You hadn’t the faintest idea why, but this time, you trusted the ethereal voice. You stopped fighting. 

Terzo returned to his spot between your legs, humming appreciatively. “Oh, guarda. I can see how much you already want this. Sporco bugiardo (You dirty liar),” he taunted as he ran his finger along the wet patch that had started to pool in your underwear, your body betraying you. While his thumb ran circles around your clit, your breath hitched involuntarily. Your eyes shut, your head turning away in shame. You couldn’t bear to actually watch this.

He teased you, dragging his finger up and down your lace-covered slit, before covering you with the palm of his hand. Now he moved his whole hand in slow, circular motion. He was satisfied when your wetness had completely soaked through your underwear. Next thing you knew, he tore them off you, tossing them over his shoulder onto the desk behind him. 

His arm wrapped around your thigh, securing it in place. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you felt his tongue circle your clit. His brows furrowed and he let out a sharp huff when he noticed you weren’t watching him work. With his free hand, he grabbed your chin brutishly again, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. You hated the force he was using. You hated seeing the insatiable hunger in his lustful eyes. You hated him. But that all paled in comparison to how much you hated the part of your desire that got caught in the wildfire of your rage.

Once he felt you understood his wordless message, he let go of your chin. Stubborn as ever, and with admirable restraint, you refused to let out the mewls and moans that perilously needed to, biting your cheek until a metallic taste tickled your tongue. The little control you had snapped like an old rubber band when he inserted the first finger inside you. Your hips bucked, craving more friction. The smoothness of his satin glove drove you as mad as it had countless times before. Your breaths became shallow and rapid as he pushed another finger inside you. Pawing at your sweet spot he knew as well as the back of his own hand, you now writhed from the remorseful pleasure. You didn’t even have time to register the smirk he made just before he snuck in a third finger. 

“Satanas!” you tried to hiss, but it dissolved on your tongue into a moan. Your eyes slammed shut as your head fell back. Then all movement stopped. You dragged your head up to resume the eye contact he demanded. He stayed frozen, the only movement he made was the one eyebrow he raised, his look expectant of you. You scowled, but in a moment of forgotten animosity, you reached to brush away the hair that had sloppily fallen in his face. “P-please, don’t stop. Please. I need–” that was enough for him to resume with furious intensity. 

You found purchase by running your hand through his hair, gripping it so tightly your knuckles went white. As you pushed his head into you, needing even more friction, more pressure, you could feel his fleeting smile before he resumed concentration. “Fuck! T-terz-zo, fuck!” you mewled, the pressure unbearable. You were about to unravel in his hands. “I’m go–” you started to say, but the words died in your mouth just as quickly as he stopped. 

He leered over you. He pulled you up by your wrist and grabbed you by your waist. He held you there for a moment, your body flush against his. “You are mine,” he commanded, his voice gravelly. Suddenly he turned you around, pushing you down, bending you over his desk. Your arms caught you as you fell forward. You could hear him undoing his pants and then felt his hand wipe some of your slick off to rub on his dick. A faint, breathy moan escaped his lips as he lined himself up with you. “You will always– be– mine,” he growled as he thrusted into you, punctuating each word with another hard thrust. You cried out in delirious pleasure that overrode the pain of him emphatically bottoming out inside you each time. ��È tutto. Ragazza bene. Sì, sei la mia ragazza preferita. È tutto,” he moaned in your ear, repeating what you had overheard him say the first time you found him with another in this very same position.

You reached for the edge of the desk to try and brace yourself, but he pushed his fingers into your mouth, hooking into your cheek. You could taste yourself on his soaked gloves. His pace faltered just slightly as he reached for your wrist and pulled you against him. You moaned around his hand, eyes rolling back, at the slight change in position. 

Tears leaked from your eyes due to the overstimulation. You were so close, so, so close. You could feel your pending orgasm building, about ready to explode like a dying star. It had never been like this with him before. Not with Terzo, not with anyone. 

Sure, you liked it rough from time to time, but this… this was awakening something else inside you. And it was solely from the sex, it was everything surmounting together: the infidelity, the degradation both public and private, the manipulation… It felt like a caged animal, a beast, which deep down you knew had always lurked inside you just waiting to be set free, waiting for the right time to emerge from your darkest shadows. There was still guilt bubbling up inside you that longed for this to be over, but… you couldn’t deny it, and you would never admit it. This excited you; it terrified you. 

His gruff whisper pulled you back to reality, “Voglio che tu venga per me, amore mio… il mio unico vero amore. Vieni. (I want you to come for me, my love… my only true love. Come.)” 

You felt yourself erupt, crying out with the force of a hundred hell hounds as your walls pulsated around him, as the most sinful pleasure rippled through your entire body. He kept going with his relentless, starved pace. Only when he spilled himself inside you, did he let up and remove his hand from your mouth. Your cheek, sore, as you tried to adjust your jaw back to normal, tonguing where you still felt the impressions of his fingers. 

You stayed there, bent over, laying on the desk. Your bones felt as if they had been liquified. He hummed behind you, pleased with his work. Using the back of his hands, he brushed them up the inside of your legs before wiping both hands along your cunt, gathering whatever excess of fluids his gloves would lap up in one swipe. He removed his gloves, tossing them on the desk beside you. You could hear the soft splat sound they made when they landed near your discarded underwear. His bare hand slapped your ass and you jumped as the sting radiated through you. 

Tucking his dick back in his pants and buttoning them up, you could feel him looming over you. You only dragged yourself up to stand when his statue-like presence caused your skin to crawl. Your eyes turned to slits as you turned to face him.

Hooking his finger under your chin, his thumb cleaned up the corners of your mouth. His other hand wiped away the tears that stained your flushed cheeks. “I think your incident at mass can be overlooked now, sì?” he snickered. 

The attrition from what had just transpired came crashing down on you like a tsunami causing ripple effects of shame and guilt to wash over you. Suddenly, your breathing became heavy. There was a fire inside your chest that blazed hot enough to burn this entire Abbey to the ground in minutes.  

Through temptation has your wrath been spurred. For your sacrifice… you will be… rewarded, that mysterious voice whispered to you again as your body started to shake from the electricity of your fury.

“Ask me again how I could ever love you,” you snarled as you stood up to adjust your dress in a feeble attempt to cover yourself.

“Oh, dolcezza,” his honeyed croon made you want to grab him by the hair and smash his face into the desk behind you. You never knew where these violent thoughts came from, so out of pocket for you. It was gasoline being added to the flames of your wrath. Your hand twitched, almost as if you were about to do it… You were pulled out of your thoughts by his sickly sweet voice. “You have no idea of the power that you possess.” He gently caressed your face, his eyes searching you as if he could see the power he spoke of, as if he was trying to find it. When his knowing smirk shrouded his face again, you had had enough of his bullshit.

You forcefully slapped his hand away from you. You could hear the sting, “Rot in hell, figlio di puttana,” you sneered as you turned to make your exit.

“Only if you’re beside me, amata mia,” he chuckled, rubbing his hand where you hit him, getting too much enjoyment and satisfaction from your reaction. You accepted that you had no idea who the man standing in front of you was or if you ever did and that thought alone only infuriated you even more. He shut up completely when you turned around and glared at him. He could see darkness starting to cloud your eyes. He shook it off, opening his mouth when you only had one more step before you were out of this office. “Oh, amore,” he started, his tone went from casual to sinister, causing you to freeze where you stood. “I mean it, you know, you utter a single syllable of this to Copia, and he’s gone. Sei mio (you are mine).” 

Your boiling blood instantly turned to ice. You turned around painstakingly slow. Your rigid body and movements were enough to send shivers down Terzo’s spine. You couldn’t feel it. You had no idea it was happening. The fury of hell shone through your eyes as Terzo watched them fill with black smoke until your eyes turned to dark voids before him. “And I’ll make you wish that I never was.”

You watched as Terzo went slack jawed and his eyes turned into saucers from shock. The anger you felt, the wrath coursed through you like an electric current, was the only thing you cared about. Although you did revel in the fact that he looked terrified enough to cry, you were too wrapped up in your emotions to care.

“I-is that a th-threat, amore?” he stuttered, failing to keep his composure.

“It’s a fucking promise,” you growled, your voice dropping several octaves, sounding borderline inhuman. Terzo stumbled backwards, his hands reaching out behind him to clutch his desk. All you could see was red. 

You almost ripped the door off its hinges as you stormed out, leaving it open. You were barely aware of where you were storming off to or that there were two Ghouls making their way towards Terzo’s office. In the haze of your rage, you almost missed how they stopped in their tracks and kneeled the second they saw you. When “Your Eminence,” sounded in your mind from two different and distinct voices as you were a few paces in front of them, your gait slowed. Still bending at the knee, they nodded to you as you passed by. Looking down at them, your brow furrowed for a moment, never having seen this kind of behavior from any Ghoul before. You returned their gesture with a curt, singular nod. They got up to resume going to wherever they were headed and you continued on your war path. Behind you, still watching from his office doorway at the end of the hall, Terzo’s jaw was just about on the floor. He scrambled to get to his phone.

Two Sisters of Sin saw you barreling towards them. Quickly, they moved to the side, but when they saw you up close, they both let out a gasp. You shot them a look only causing them to cower. Once you passed them, they ran down the hall as if they were running for their lives. Your brow furrowed again. “What the fuck…?” you muttered to yourself.  

You didn’t have time for this. Terzo said you couldn’t tell Copia about what happened. He never said anything about Sister Imperator. When you reached her office you didn’t even bother to knock, scaring the daylights of her from the sudden burst of noise and movements. Then the color drained from her at the sight of you.

This time, you slammed the door behind you. Sister Imperator backed herself up until she hit the wall. You stood in there for a moment, your breaths coming out in short huffs, almost like pants. Your eyes looked crazed as you widened them. It was like two black holes were staring at Sister Imperator, threatening to destroy anything that got in their way. Chills ran up and down her spine. “Sister, y-your ey– uh…” she sputtered, her breathing becoming shallow. She tried to ignore the tightening feeling in her chest. She swallowed, even though her throat had gone dry. “Sister, w-what happened?”

You charged forward, slamming your hands on her desk, rattling everything on it. She winced and brought her hands up to her chest, clutching her Grucifix rosary beads that hung around her neck. A malevolent sneer etched onto your face. “Terzo happened,” you growled, although this time, it actually sounded like your own voice. 

You pushed off her desk and began pacing, slowly, deliberating, as if you were trying to both calm down and calculate something. When you gathered your thoughts and paused, turning to directly face the panicked clergy member, your words sounded nothing less than a warning. 

“Imperator, I don’t know what game you and Copia and Lucifer knows who else are playing with Terzo… and I don’t exactly know my role in it,” you clenched your jaw, speaking through your teeth, “since no one cares to divulge that information.” You took a deep breath and regained composure as you feigned innocence. “I only care about how it ends. Do you know how it will end, Sister?” Her mouth hung agape. Any sound that tried to escape was nowhere to be found. She could only shake her head in response. You leaned forward onto the desk again, you slowly pulled your chin in, but you kept your gaze locked on hers, your eyes now almost looking up at her. A smile wider than a cheshire cat’s grew on your face. If Sister Imperator didn’t believe in evil, she certainly did now. “It’s going to end with his head on my altar.”

taglist: @da-rulah @fishwithtitz @ivycasket @water-ghoulette (drop a comment if you'd like to be added!)

part iii | part v

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Weekend everyone :) Whew we are almost halfway through s3 already it's crazy. I love how when we get little content the previous ep the next one has loads. This is Lucy’s first real foray into UC. Seeing that deeper Harper/Lucy bond. Tim’s freak out and protectiveness. Such a good one for so many reasons. So many more gifs I wanted to use but sadly Tumblr keeps me to 30. They need to up that ha Oh well let’s get this started.

3x06 Revelations

Our ep starts out with Tamara and Lucy. Lucy making sure she gets at least one good dinner for the week. I just love their relationship so much. Tamara was such a good addition to the show. Adding some extra depth for Lucy. She is an excellent pseudo mom to her. Tamara asks if she can interview Lucy for a paper for school. Has to do with women in male dominated fields.

Lucy is adorable in her reply saying she's honored she’s asking her. How far these two have come. Lucy says she should be off early tomorrow. Let's Tamara know she’s just doing site security with Tim. It’s for the CCOA. Basically a convention for UC cops. I did love her saying ‘My Sergeant’ when explaining her work plans tomorrow. Made me happy. Yes he is. In more ways than one. Heh

We first join our lovely duo running security checks at the entrance. Lucy asking if Tim does this every year? Tim tells her no but he went with Isabel once to this. Look our boy bringing up Isabel casually. Being the one to and not have it bring him down. I'm so proud of him. Doesn’t phase him like it used to. Not only that but he’s cracking jokes over here.

Saying he just worked on his tan while Isabel attended seminars haha Replying to her question about what they teach here with sass. Tim tells her he has no idea but he's clearly having fun with his reply. Lucy still isn’t used to his sassy side. Her reaction above says it all. You did this lady hehe Enjoy the fruits of your labor madam.

Their lighthearted moment is interrupted by an old friend of Tim’s. He drives up like a bat out of hell. Tim is excited to see him (at first...) Tim is in such a good mood when he rolls up. Just outside cracking jokes with his girl having a good time. Even introduces Lucy (by her first name BTW) to his friend proudly. Shortly after their reunion Tim realizes the girl in the car is not his wife….

She blatantly hits on him calling him pretty. I mean he is. Look at the man. I’ve said before he is sex on stick. Mack notes he only gets prettier with age. He's not wrong...it’s true. Loved Eric since his DOOL days. Was in love with him then as a teenager and even more so now ha So that is accurate. Aged like a fine ass wine. *chef kiss*

Tim pulls Mack aside and wants to talk. Lets him know if he wants to run around on his wife that's his business. But he looks high as a kite. I love the way Lucy watches the interaction. Already in protect Tim emotionally mode. Mack tells him it's just oxy. He got hurt on the job month ago and the pain is a bear.

He takes off before Tim can say more and the look of worry on Lucy's face only increases. She can tell Tim is shook up about seeing his old friend this way. It’s affecting him more than he would like. I think he must’ve been in the academy with Tim. To watch someone you used to be close fall from grace is never easy to watch. Especially when it's so closely related to what Isabel was like.

Lucy spies on Harper giving a lecture to potential female UC’s in the making. You can see her interest is piqued. Harper even spots her before she shuts the door. Cracks me up the way she jumps when Tim catches her. I always love me some arm crossed disapproving Tim. Mmm. gimme. His emotions are written all over his face. They honestly color his attitude for almost the entirety of this episode. He’s not upset she snuck a peak. He’s upset she’s interested in UC. The way he looks back that that sign says it all. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach has settled and its not going anywhere.

This next scene we start to see Tim’s demons about UC surface a little. That good mood of his is long gone. He immediately confronts her about it. Asking her if she was spying in on seminars? She can’t lie to save her life when he looks at her. She adorably replies maybe…She's so excited by the prospect of UC she isn’t picking up on the stress Tim is throwing down in this scene.

He chews her out a little for spying and why it was wrong. I think we all know this has zero to do with the spying. That it 100 percent has to do with the subject matter that’s peaked her interest. He is trying to cut this off at the pass. He is not remotely excited about her being interested in UC at all..

We return to our couple reporting to Mack’s room. His wife Beth is banging on the door. His mistress won’t let her in. Tim doesn't have time for this and kicks the door down. Oh my. He runs inside and sees Mack has OD’d. Lucy goes and gets the Narcan to revive him. Mack comes to and is begging his wife to stay. He is so very out of it. His wife storms off saying she can’t do this anymore. Ugh poor Tim. The look he shares with Lucy kills me. The pre-tears and all. The fact that he's upset and looks back at her for support. My heart. This was not how he envisioned spending this day. It was supposed to be an easy security site job that turned into so much more.

Tim rejoins Mack at the hospital. He is so very angry with him. His pre-tears are killing me in these scenes with Mack. Poor Tim this ep is bringing up a lot of demons for him. Ones he truly thought he was putting behind him. Not just UC ones either. Telling Mack he’s not making the same mistakes he did with Isabel. Tim has made major strides when it comes to her but those scars still linger. They’re not gone and probably never will be fully. I’m sure he still tortures himself about his inaction with her. He won't do that again. To Tim this is a way to make up for that. Atone for that sin.

Lucy is leaving for the day when she spots Harper waiting at her car. Now I said when Harper joined the show how excited I was. That her and Lucy’s relationship was one of those reasons. These are the moments that I love so much. Harper is straight with her and says 'You know we’re gonna have to talk about it right?' Clearly referring to her sneaking a peak.

Lucy thinks Harper is there to scold here just like Tim did. The beautiful thing about this scene is she doesn’t. Nyla encourages and supports her UC aspirations. This is where she becomes her UC mentee really. After Lucy explains why she peaked in Harper can’t help but want to help Lucy with this.

Can sense her genuine excitement about it. Even agrees to drinks to talk about it. Hell it’s her idea how far we’ve come ❤️ Lucy postpones her interview with Tamara to go out with Nyla. Harper then gets a distress call from one of her old UC contacts. Asks if Lucy wants to come instead of a rain check on drinks? She jumps on this offer immediately. Wanting to see first hand what an operation is like.

Harper sends Lucy into the bar solo while she spots the tail on her friend. Lucy looks so amped to prove herself. She finds June or ‘Coco’ as she’s known right now at the bar. Sato joins the table immediately after Lucy does. Obviously he is the tail June has been worried about. The balls on Lucy in this moment. If Tim could see her right now he would have a friggin heart attack. Lucy throws a damn drink in his face.

She covers her ass so well and pretends she’s the chemist. Really smart move on her end. Even though he buys Lucy’s story Sato and his guard make them both move outdoors. Harper is waiting in the wings like the BAMF she is. Takes out Sato’s guard easily. Harper tells Coco there’s a tracker on her car. They must be cops. Sato is now the one in trouble saying they’re not. Salonga his boss just wanted them surveilled.

Coco up's the price for pissing them off. He tells them if they do the price hike Lucy better be at the buy. Harper tries to shield Lucy. Telling them she doesn’t go on buys. Lucy jumps in and says she’ll go. That she's already spent her share in her head. Shocking both Harper and June. If Tim could see this he would be losing his damn mind. Well he will later on….

Crazy how good she is at this right away. Harper notices the immediate potential in her. They tell her she better bone up on chemistry. She beams like the nerd we all know and love. Says she got straight A’s in chemistry in high school. Of course you did haha Lucy gets so caught up in the moment she forgets she was supposed to do the report with Tamara. Oops.

Tim comes to Grey’s office about his report on Mack. Wade is asking him if he’s sure he wants to do it this way? Tim so desperate to right the wrong he did with Isabel he doesn’t hesitate. Says it’s the right thing to do. That it’s what he should’ve done with Isabel in first place. He warns him he'll lose his pension. Tim continues on says its right thing to do. Grey doesn’t disagree. Wade then tells him Lucy will be occupied with a UC op today. He is none too pleased about this and quickly heads to roll call room.

Tim acting like a mad worried husband from here on out. He is SEETHING above. That determined strut and crossing of his arms. His whole demeanor screaming his discontent. Anger ready to spill over onto Harper. So very worried because Lucy has volunteered for a UC op and a very dangerous one at that. He doesn’t hide his stress in the least. Lucy has become such a fixture in his life at this point. To potentially risk losing her to a UC op like he did Isabel…He can't handle the idea of it. The rest of this scene reflects that.

His demons coming out to play extra hard in this one for him. Lucy looks so excited when she's asked to stand up. She's so ready to prove herself. She is just excited in general. Then she turns around and sees Tim’s disapproving stance and stare. She freezes immediately and instantly feels reprimanded. Looks back at him one more time and sees his body language hasn't changed. Tim is emanating anger and Lucy knows it. Whew lord. He’s ready to eat Harper.

Before we move on let's take a moment to enjoy the forearm porn we’re getting here in the gif above. Hot damn. Arms are crossed, biceps bulging and his forearms look toned as hell. Sweet baby James should be a crime to be this attractive. But let’s get back to the episode before I gawk at him any further LMAO

The very SECOND the meeting is over Tim is all over Harper. Pushes off the wall and storms toward her. He is ready to tear her a new one about allowing this. Let’s remember this episode has been VERY rough on Tim to this point. It’s like he’s being forced down memory lane in the worst way possible. With maximum PTSD. He started the ep casual, having fun with Lucy. Even bringing up Isabel at a UC convention without it bothering him. Then Mack showed up and dominoes started to fall and haven't stopped. This scene is his boiling point with good reason.

From Mack who’s his friend forcing him to relieve his trauma with Isabel. Having to make an ethical call about his career due to him becoming an addict. To Lucy going undercover which he feels she was roped into. She wasn’t but he’s not exactly thinking straight right now. It's what happens when our emotions drown us. The logical part of our brain disconnects and all that’s left is intense suffocating emotion. Lashing out trying to get some semblance of control.

We also need to remember the last time he was involved in a UC op Isabel was shot in the head. Almost died. His PTSD is crying out in his scene. Harper tries to calm Tim down by saying she volunteered, Grey approved it and she has the best backup she could possibly have. The thing is though no matter of logic is going to penetrate his panic right now. Tim telling Harper she’s using Lucy and he’s losing his mind over it. He felt Isabel was used in her OP and now those feelings are bleeding over into Lucy’s. He is showing all his cards emotionally in this scene. The sheer terror he feels over Lucy going under cover. He doesn't want to lose her to same thing.

I love the writers for tapping back into these issues of his. They don’t just go away. They tend to linger on for a long time. They’ve left deep scars on him. This shows how raw this nerve still is for Tim. Now to top his day off they’re throwing his person into the one thing he fears the most. Lucy has become the one constant in his life. This incredibly resilient sunshine person that has become so important to him. He can’t stand the thought of being hurt or worse. His fears from 2x19 echoing in this scene. About not being about to protect her. To losing her and him having no say in the result.

I don’t think Tim even understands why he’s reacting this way. Most of their relationship he is like this. Acts without understanding the why behind it. Only that it is a driving force for him. It's not until 4x22 he starts to understand why he acts the way he does with her. He only knows right now it’s instinctual and he can’t stop himself from letting it out.

Lucy looks absolutely crushed by the time he says his line about her being used. The look they share before before he walks away. It's crushing to say the least. We all know how badly she wants to impress him. For him to be proud of her and what she’s accomplished to even be in this OP. Tim has always had her back. Supported her and truly seen her as a person. Had unrelenting faith in her this entire time. To not have that in this moment is rocking her entire world.

I adore Nyla for how she helps Lucy after Tim hastily departs. She’s the best mentor Lucy could have. I love these moments between them. The way she tells her it’s Tim’s issues not her. (It’s true but also it being Lucy adds tons of fuel to the fire for him) Lucy feeling stupid for wanting him to be proud. Harper is so wonderful in validating how she is feeling.

Doesn’t shame her for wanting Tim’s approval. That he got her this far. It makes sense she would want that. Tells her there is NOTHING wrong with it. Such a good scene for them. Why I love their dynamic so much. Harper is so good for Lucy and her confidence building. She covers what Tim can't. What I love about it. These were the scenes I was so excited to get to once she was on the show for these reviews.

Tim and Nolan have joined the op to surveil overhead. No way in hell he wasn’t going to be apart of this. I'm sure after that scene with Harper no one was going to stand in his way. Also how else could obsessively keep his eye on her if he’s at the station? Hehe Nolan thinks he’s helping by comforting Tim in this scene. Sorry John you don’t know him like that and his replies show it.

He is gruff, deflects and is cocky in his replies. All things he does with those he’s not comfortable around. Only Lucy gets soft Tim. I will commend Nolan for having the balls to say anything though. The gall of Tim to say 'Who said I was worried?’ Uh only anyone who’s interacted with you since this whole thing started. LOL The way you bit off Harpers head in front of a room full of people. But sure love you’re not worried…

Eric is so amazing in this scene. His face says the opposite of 'not worried' His stiff body language encompassing all his immense worry. Side note let’s not ignore the amazing shots of his jawline in this scene. Could cut glass on that thing. All scruffy too mmm love it lick it like a lollipop. Ahem anyways...His continued annoyance with Nolan shows as the scene goes on.

Especially when he tells Tim about how Lucy can handle herself. Tim is VERY aware of how capable she is. It’s why he’s a little offended in his reply. He seems annoyed Nolan even mentions she can handle it. As if he's telling Tim this for the first time. Like he hasn't ridden with her pretty much every day for a year plus. He's watched her develop into who she is now. He knows dude. Nobody knows it better than Tim Bradford how damn capable she is ya schmuck...(Oops my Nolan annoyance is showing) It’s what shakes him the most with her interest in UC. That she’s going to excel at it and that scares the hell out of him.

He is playing the worried husband to the letter. Easy Tim your feelings are showing. Showing enough that John Nolan who is usually scared of you is commenting on it. John is doing it to comfort Tim which I respect. But for Tim when it's not Lucy he isn't as receptive. As I stated about earlier he is only going to deflect, be cocky and gruff in his replies. Hence his line above. Tim isn’t going to be able to relax or breathe till she’s on the other side of this. So until then he is going to ward off Nolan and his compassion by being self assured. That he trained her so he’s not “worried". Whatever gets you through love.

Lucy acts like a complete bad ass during the whole thing. No surprise. Gets pulled into the limo with the boss and holds her own. Even speaks Tagalog impressing Salonga even further. Writes out the formula and preserves the OP. Doesn’t take long before she’s released and they’re given the money. That’s when everyone swoops in and arrests everyone. I read in theflyingdutchwoman’s amazing analysis in their anatomy Of a scene series (if you haven't read her stuff I highly recommend it) about Tim bailing on his post during this section. I couldn’t agree more I have no doubt the minute she stepped into that limo his ass was off that rooftop immediately. Ready to go when she needed him.

Tim is in fierce protector mode until he reaches Lucy. Then breathes a sigh of relief. Morphing into soft Tim instantly. Only for her. He quietly asks her if she’s ok? That small set of words exposing EVERYTHING about how he’s feeling. The anxiety and how stressed he was till this moment. She nods fervently and his body continues to relax. What follows this is so sweet. Let’s admire the way he holds her cuffed hands.

How gentle he is with her as he escorts her to the shop. He could have put his hands on her arms or elbow like Nyla got with Nolan. But then Nolan isn’t in in love with Nyla…He legit held her hands all the way to the patrol car. I love it sfm. Like he needed to do this to ground himself after the adrenaline rush he just experienced. Proving to himself that she’s there. She’s safe and he can relax.

Then comes the more beautiful part of the scene and really the episode if you ask me. Lucy isn’t expecting anything from Tim in this moment. Last time she saw him was his outburst about her even doing this. Then in the most Tim Bradford-esc way he voices how very proud he is of her. By telling her ‘You did good.’ To anyone else might not mean much. Or seem like much. To Lucy Chen it means the entire world. She knows Tim’s hang ups with UC. The demons he had arise with this. She also knows he’s putting aside those feelings to let her know he’s proud of her. Which is HUGE.

Because at the end of the day this OP was about Lucy and building her confidence in this area. He wants her to know that and does so. She craves his approval and support so much. Let’s not forget she grew up in an emotionally abusive household as well. Parents who withheld praise and support for anything she did. Never proud her. (I know that life) It’s why Tim’s approval means so damn much to her.

Why she lives and strives for it. Tim has had nothing but unconditional faith and support in her since day one. When he blew up about her doing this she thought she had lost that. These three words restore that for her. I don’t think Tim even knew the depth of how much him being proud of her meant. Ugh these idiots. I love them and their slow burn sfm. To round out the scene I adore Nyla’s wink at the end. She is also so very proud of Lucy. Handled herself like a damn pro. I love her so much for the impact she has on Lucy it’s unreal.

Poor Tim (said this a lot but seriously this ep is hard on him) has the episode end pretty roughly for him. Beth comes to find him and rip him a new one. Tim tells her he can’t excuse the past. But this is now and he stands by what he did. It calls back to 3x04 when he was telling Lucy the same thing. That he can’t fix what he did then but would make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

This situation is proof of that. Doing for Mack what he should’ve done for Isabel. It’s awful to watch her tear him apart. But the right thing and the easy thing are rarely the same. Unfortunately this is very true for Tim in this instance. He ends this ep on a low note and I just wanna hug him.

For Lucy it ends better. She makes up the report for Tamara by providing not just herself but Nyla and June for her repot as well. It’s cute to watch Tamara absorb all their banter. I love Lucy’s speech here it’s so good. Praising the women next to her in a way Tamara is revering them all. It's perfect way to the ep for them both. Such a good one.

~~~~

Side notes-non chenford

I love the introduction of Silas. I think that’s it’s didn’t really care about Nolan’s classes SL tbh. But cool castle reunion.

Thank you always to those who like, reblog and comment. Make creating these reviews so worth it shall see you all in 3x07 :)

[cinnamonanddean]

Sorry it's Lexana's wedding so we're doing notes again:

I'm being so normal about Clark's lingering look at his bowtie I swear to God.

Lol he just frisbee'd that fucking picture frame out the window.

Ew Lana's makeup is aging her real bad

Why is Lex in the white suit? I'm not a fan of it here. Is this a dream or something?

Yeah I thought so. Now that made him look like a waiter serving high tea. Yuck.

Clark sweetie, don't take out your anger on the poor hay bales. Or poor Chloe, she doesn't need your sass.

What the hell is that big dumb L on the door lol

Jesus, Chloe, why are you dumping all this on Clark?? Why don't you tell Lana how you feel?. Clearly everyone is just gonna be a dick in this one.

Has there ever been a TV wedding that just went smoothly?

How the fuck is Clark STILL getting into the mansion without anyone stopping him?? I mean I guess it's the superspeed but c'mon. Security should at least be turning up like WTF

DEMON BABY

I'm sorry, I do not believe that Lex and Lana share that bedroom. I know they had him putting his watch on and whatever in the last episode, but I don't buy it.

Lol Lionel is so fucking rude.

HAHA I know pegged didn't mean the same thing at the time, but holy shit that's disturbing

Lionel, what the fuck are you up to? So fucking shady.

Yes, smart, have your secret meeting in the crypt of the church where you're getting married. Not sus at all.

Oh shit okay Mr Angry Pants

Wait wait I have something for Lex rn. God I wish the Tumblr gif search was actually good:

This scene with Aunt Nell is weird.

It's not a final dress fitting, it's just getting dressed.

There is no way Chloe's phone would work from inside that cooler.

Oh dang all his secrets just out and about. I would be more careful about using my powers in Lex's house, but sure.

Also convenient that he doesn't super-hear Lana lurking, but sure.

Uh ohhhhhh

"this will destroy Lex" like you give a shit, Lionel. You'd love to destroy Lex.

What happened to Lex's tux?? The suit is boring.

DID HE KEEP THE RING FROM S5 THIS WHOLE TIME THE SWEET BABY 😭

Oh I hate that bow on Lana's dress. At least it's not purple.

Poor Clark, I'm so saaaaad for him. That little quaver in his voice, stop it 😭

"do you sit up at night, practising this stuff?" Lex Luthor, always asking the questions we're all thinking

Lionel is such a piece of garbaaaaaage omg.

OH MY GOD WHY ARE THEY LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT. I know what it's supposed to mean but THAT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE. Jesus, have they ever been able to look at each other normally???

[evolution-ofa-geek]

31 Days of Horror

Day 2 - Favorite Slasher Movie

Freddy vs Jason (2003)

Starring:

Robert Englund

Ken Kirzinger

Kelly Rowland

Monica Keena

Jason Ritter

Katherine Isabella

Brendan Fletcher

Synopsis: "It's been nearly ten years since Freddy Krueger terrorized people in the dreams, and the towns folk want to keep him erased from their memory. Freddy still has one more plan on getting back to Elm Street. He resurrects Jason Voorhees and sends him off to kill. The more bodies which fall to the ground, the stronger in which Freddy becomes. This is until, Freddy realizes that Jason isn't going to step aside easily, and must be taken down himself"

GIF by living-deadx-girlx

When it came down to my favorite slasher movie of all time it had to include my favorite slasher of all time. Unfortunately I couldn’t decide between a lot of them so I chose the movie that had two of them against each other.

As many of you know, at the end of Jason Goes to Hell, Jason’s mask is ripped off and lands on a pile of dirt. The camera zooms in on it and we as the audience think there’s going to be one last scare. Instead we get the treat of Freddy’s hand glove reaching for the mask and bringing it back down with him.

Ten years later we get treated to Freddy vs Jason.. I have to include this movie on this list considering I watched it three times when it came out and now own it and even watch it on basic cable when its shown. Its a cant miss. Either you hate it because of the story and the acting and the actors they chose or you love it because its Freddy vs Jason. Two horror icons pitted against each other.

GIF by horrorandhalloween

Years later there were rumors of a second movie, including one with Michael Myers and theres even a comic book which includes Ash from Evil Dead joining in on the fight. Hands down, my favorite slashers and slasher movie.

Freddy vs Jason Kill Count: 35 according to Dead Meat on Youtube

Favorite Kill Scene: Jason stabbing the douche high school boy 8 times in his bed and then bending the bed in half.

GIF by horrorqueeeen

What was your favorite slasher movie? DM or Tag me in your post and i'll include it on the podcast.

[period-dramallama]

Review: Katherine by Anya Seton

I know I know I said I would have time at the end of last year, but then I got bitten by a plot bunny and after that I had my annual New Year holiday at my mum’s, AND THEN I got bitten by another plot bunny…

TLDR: an enjoyable read, but my high expectations were disappointed.

The plot

At times the novel was very slow, but it felt slice-of-life looking at different aspects of the 14th century: the plague, jousts, pilgrimage, murder, the Peasant’s Revolt. The title ‘Katherine’ is rather misleading because the world around her is much more interesting than she is, frankly. And while the pace is slow, the murder of [SPOILER] is a good source of dramatic irony: waiting for the characters to find out the terrible secret.

You can see the seeds of the dynastic dispute that will become the Wars of the Roses: Mortimer thinking that his descendants by Philippa will get the throne sooner than John’s descendants. Cob’s subplot with Katherine was good.

Also good on Anya for not lazily confusing her history and remembering that the young Hotspur of Shakespeare is not the same as the historical dude, who was much older than Harry of Monmouth. It was good to see Hotspur, although I think his fame from Shakespeare is probably the reason he’s in the book. At times the book is like a who’s who of 14th century England: Katherine meets Julian of Norwich. It’s also fun to see Chaucer and the references to his work and historical people influencing his writing. I liked his perspective on the Peasants’ Revolt: he’s hidden in his rooms, passing the time with his stories, so he comes out to see the destruction like that gif of the man who enters the burning living room with pizza.

Gaunt confronts the archbishop at St Paul’s and it’s a great set piece.

More Wycliffe and John of Gaunt, please! I loved seeing John of Gaunt use Wycliffe for his own political ends. “John was truly devout in a hearty male way… he believed as his father and mother had believed, so Wyclif had ended by horrifying him.”

Whoever wrote that placard calling Gaunt a Flemish changeling…truly the winner of the Darwin Award. My guy, at least disguise your handwriting.

I did get a sense of the importance of religion to medieval people, which was good:

“What then was certain? What was there that would not shift and veer at the mercy of the winds of feeling?”

“Sanctity, the clergy said. Prayer. The practice of religion. The benevolence of the holy saints. The Grace of God.”

“He had not pointed out that the devil’s hand with the five fingers of lechery gripped a man by the lions, to throw him into the furnace of Hell.”

The action scenes, for want of a better phrase, are also well-written: “But on the second course he shattered the boy’s spear and, though his own lance point was broken off by the shock, he swerved Morel and, coolly slanting the butt of his lance into the boy’s armpit- beneath the breastplate, lifted him from his saddle and deposited him on the ground.”

The writing

“During the time of terror and hideous death there had been no dignity of mourning, and now in the honours done the Duchess they could weep quietly for their own dead, too.”

The plague sequence was well written: atmospheric, full of doom and dread.

Sometimes the writing was….IMHO, bordering on the silly. “Lay bathed in a moony light” “the blue Percy lions on their surcoats jigged in and out with their fierce breathings.” Anya, baby, don’t write under the influence. It’s not a good idea.

The medieval songs were a welcome inclusion that made the world feel more real.

There are some good turns of phrase in this book: “He’s swollen with pride and no doubt March has been puffing it with the hot air of promises.”

“Bloodshed-“ the friar smiled faintly. “Blood is all you knights understand.”

“There’s still the bishops! May the devil’s pitchforks prick their fat rumps until they’ve bled out all the gold!”

“like released bowstrings, the two hundred diners jumped to their feet and waited.”

Anya writes crowds and the mood of crowds well, she is good at depicting mass hysteria and mob mentality. “Already a dozen heads had rolled into the central gutter, which ran crimson. Vultures and kites perched high above on the house gables, watching as intently as the crowd did.”

There are some lovely expressions of emotion. “Humility struck Katherine, even shame that she had dared to expect love from such a man as this.” “Am I then nothing of myself? She thought with anguish. Can I not live apart from memories of him”

There’s humorous moments too. “The excited fishmonger had just caught sight of Katherine standing like a church statue beyond his angry wife.” “She held out a fat dimpled hand so loaded with diamonds that Katherine, as she curtsied, could scarce find space to kiss.” “There he may cool his ardours by taming the Scots, who are rampaging as usual. God bless them.” “They were recounting with relish the horrors of the revolt in London two months ago, while a Norfolk man insisted that they had had a worse time of it up here than any Londoner could know.” “Five children stood by a thatched stable which enclosed crudely painted homemade figures of the nativity, and loudly disputed whether the Baby were smiling or not.”

The characters

Take a shot every time Katherine’s beauty is mentioned or described. You will pass out.  There are fewer references to her beauty as the book goes on.

“She had beauty still, the thinness of her flesh but exposed the grace of her bones and sinews.”

…mostly fewer references.

“He reached out his finger to touch the white streaks at her temples. “Age on you has but added swan’s wings to your fairness,” he said wryly, “while I’m grizzled and hacked like an old badger.”

I said FEWER references, not none.

“They stared at each other in a struggle that racked them both, and she clung to the sudden enmity between them as a shield.” “They stood looking at each other, breathing as though they raced with time.”

The chemistry between John and Katherine has promise, but the development of the attraction is pretty thin. There is attraction between them but at almost halfway through the book, I still didn’t get what Katherine’s appeal was to him, apart from her beauty. She’s the main character, yet I didn’t get a sense of a personality. Philippa ‘Pica’ Chaucer might be brash and grating to the people around her, but at least I could describe her to you. What’s Katherine’s personality? Um…she’s beautiful? She’s a controlling parent to Blanchette? She’s a loyal friend to Blanche? And….um…yeah.

John goes from desiring Katherine to suddenly saying he loves her: it’s a very abrupt change in his feelings.

“Inclination and good taste” prevent Katherine from interfering in politics. It’s “men’s business” and she’s framed as better than that meddling realm-ruiner Alice Perrers (boo!hiss!)

It might seem hypocritical of me to criticise Katherine being apolitical- didn’t I just say I wanted Katherine to have more personality and now she has a definable personality trait I’m criticising it for not being the personality I wanted?

But I do think it’s a missed opportunity. Yes, I’m biased, I like scheming women, but I really do think it would be a more interesting book if Katherine paid attention to John of Gaunt’s activities, maybe even advised him. It would serve as a window into John of Gaunt, who he is, what drives him. There’s nothing wrong with wanting the quiet life but it does make Katherine rather passive. Dozens and dozens of pages go by without Katherine and the duke interacting. Their reunion at the end is lovely, but it would be even better if their relationship was well-developed. “This castle was his, the bread she ate, the clothes she wore came from his bounty. Like the hundreds in his retinue, like his children, like this young squire who stood waiting respectfully before her, she had no course but submission.” I like the realism of this passage, but again, it does feel like a missed opportunity to get closer to John of Gaunt’s inner workings. There is a scene where John confides in Katherine by her coaxing, and it’s a pleasant scene, but it’s all the more frustrating because it’s the only time. “His need for her deepened, he talked to her more freely about all his concerns, and he kept her with him constantly, showing her many public as well as private signs of his love.”

That’s the good stuff! I don’t want that information in passing, I want to see it happen! That’s what I want to read! Not Reminder no. 312 that Katherine Is Beautiful!

(Maybe this is a sign that I should be reading a novel about Alice Perrers instead. Or writing one? Eyes emoji.)

“But by night, sometimes she was with him in dreams. In these dreams there was love between them, tenderness greater than there had really been. She awoke from these with her body throbbing and a sense of agonising loss.” I was struck by the nuance and the pessimism of this passage. It was a different kind of love story than I had expected from a ‘classic romance’.

“She was no longer simply ‘Katherine’ she must adjust again to the various labels that the world would give her, and the demands fair and unfair that it would make.”

That’s great but I still don’t know who Katherine IS beneath all these labels!!

I did like this moment with Katherine during the Peasants’ Revolt. Anya astutely summarised some historical truths: she gets it right where Margaret Mitchell got it wrong:

“A good manor lord cares for his serfs,” she continued. “He gives them ale feasts and alms. In time of trouble he protects them, feeds them, and he administers justice for them that they have not the understanding to do for themselves. They’re like his children.”

The friar gave his rare chuckle. “You voice the arguments for slavery that are old as Babylon and have satisfied many. There are however others who prefer freedom to any benefits – I don’t know,” he added half to himself, “what is God’s law.”  

I was not expecting Katherine to imprison her daughter for disobedience, especially as the real Blanchette seems to have died younger.

(However, espousing the views of the time is still not a personality.)

“Katherine, who was always just, stroked the dark curls.” Always just??? Anya?? My sister in Christ, she bullied Blanchette into marriage, that’s not just!!

Anya definitely has Opinions about gender roles. Katherine’s femininity is Good and Modest and Natural, Richard’s femininity is Sinister and Unnatural.

“Ay, there was perversion of all sorts dwelling behind those tinted beardless cheeks, the gold-powdered curls, the tall slender body that bore itself so haughtily in violet brocade which gave forth a wave of scent as he passed.”

“Next came a giggling, mincing group of young men in skintight hose that showed their thighs, and more, and who wore velvet shoes with points half a yard long – Richard’s contemporaries and cronies.”

Why is literally everyone in this novel more interesting than Katherine? This novel is like a bagel: a hearty ring, but the centre is a hole, a void.

[cybernaght]

One and Only: a review of sorts

I bet you did not expect the actual topic of this blog to resurface, and yet, here we go.

The previous time I went to a cinema to watch one of those Chinese films was actually completely by accident. I had a long break/cancellation situation at work which meant a three-hour break with a cinema around the corner. I ducked into said cinema and found out that a screening of Born to Fly has just stared, so… what’s a girl to do. I then didn’t write anything about it because I didn’t have much to say about it.

This one, however, was planned.

One and Only/热烈 is a story of a working class boy with a passion for dance (Wang Yibo - obviously) being roped into being an understudy for a cocky obnoxious star of a dance team by that team’s coach (Huang Bo - obviously), learning a thing or two about himself, finding friendship and hoping to one day complete in the Nationals.

As the film is in cinemas, I cannot provide visuals, so, instead, I’m gonna populate this with some of my many gifs from Street Dance of China season 3-5.

Plot-wise, it’s not really unpredictable in any way. The highs and the lows are placed roughly where you would expect them to be, all the lulls are appropriately proportioned for character development, and the final-act dance competition is as exhilarating as one might hope.

And yet… this one has a heart, it really does, and the writing really does a lot to elevate a cookie-cutter premise. The characters have a hell of a lot of inner life, including whole sets of circumstances that are merely implied - a real joy to see in any movie, I love the effect this has on the feeling of the characters’ realness. There are also fantastic decisions made pacing-wise in the final two acts, with one specific time-skip which I found very exciting indeed.

Themes of mutual respect and cooperation are not by all mean new to this kind of a movie, but I really appreciated how well developed they are, being set up in the opening scenes, and paying off in the eleventh hour; and it was lovely to see those themes explored organically. Again, writing elevates the premise here, too.

Wang Yibo’s acting keeps improving in a way which is pretty damn impressive. He seems to be a very hard-working young man, and that hard work seemingly pays off, too. Good for him. There are a few idiosyncrasies that are still very “his” (I swear I have never seen him have any screen chemistry with any woman ever), but there were also moments that read as character, and that read as truth. Honestly, he’s all grown up now, it’s very sweet to watch.

And if you are here through Street Dance of China route, whoooo boy do I have good news for you.

Ye Yin is here

Jr. Taco is here

B-Boy George is here — with plot! (Is this a spoiler? It might be. It might not be.)

Rochka is here, with the signature ankle spin

So are Klash and MT Pop, by the way.

Liao Bo is here AND he! is! actually! dancing!

Kevin is in it, although he is not, in fact, dancing

I am certain this list is not comprehensive. Suffice it to say, there is enough on the screen to make a Street Dance of China fan very happy.

(The only real crime was that Chick was not in it. Because he absolutely should have been.)

Speaking of dance — I really want to know who choreographed this, because some of the routines were fantastic. I only wish that we could see them uncut - but of course this is a movie, and it is edited as one. Besides, you have to have cuts to be able to cut-in Wang Yibo’s dance double*, the true unsung hero of this cinematographic show.

(*last year the boy could do like, one freeze. He is a fast learner so I am ready to believe that he can be pretty good, but he is definitely not “halo five times in a row” good.)

All in all, if you are feeling sad that SDC 6 seems to be nowhere in sight at the moment, and One and Only is in cinemas near you, this comes with a cybernaght stamp of approval.

Go see your favorites doing the thing that they do - and doing it well.

You made a promise. Please hurry up. It's late August already, and you've not even announced the captains yet.

[cobragardens]

The 3 Falls of Anthony J Crowley

So far, Crowley has told three different stories to three different audiences about why he Fell, and there's some important information that can be inferred from them. Let's get nerdy.

(Nb. C. 25% of this is from a previous post I made about Crowley's memory problems.)

Here's Crowley's 1st story (gifs courtesy of Fuck Yeah Good Omens), in 1867:

In Book Omens this line is narration about Crowley, and means that Crowley didn't embrace evil and side with Hell so much as he just wasn't into the whole Heaven shindig.

In Show Omens, this phrase becomes a little more fraught, because Crowley says it about himself, and he says it to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale has just disagreed with Crowley's assertion that the two of them have a lot in common. Az thinks Crowley means their origins as angels, and demurs, "I don't know. We may have both started off as angels, but you are fallen."

But what Crowley means, as we find out in pretty much every other scene the two of them share in S1 and S2, is that that he and Aziraphale have a lot in common now, in their current positions. He wants Aziraphale to see him as a friend--and to be his friend--so he elides the difference his Fallenness makes to Aziraphale, all "Ehhh, it wasn't really a fall kind of Fall, it wasn't that bad."

Also, given the conversation they have in the Final Fifteen, I feel like his phrasing is kind of important here, because falling is not voluntary, but sauntering is. In saying this Crowley is claiming that to some degree he chose to reject Heaven.

It's entirely possible that Crowley may have been lying to Aziraphale in 1867--he is, as he says, a demon, and he's lied to him before to make something bad seem less bad--but maybe not. Remember what the Metatron says about Crowley:

And this is another interesting point: The Metatron knew Crowley as an angel. The Metatron. The being who, after shepherding Aziraphale out of the bookshop, turned back and looked at Crowley with hate.

(And tense music playing, in case you weren't sure.)

So maybe that's it. Maybe Crowley just chose to be on his own side.

But in 2019, and addressing God, Crowley's story of his Fall is slightly different:

I think we can take this as Crowley's sincere belief. It's unlikely that he would lie when speaking to God, because that is Aziraphale's job because he doesn't have any reason to do so: God hasn't been listening to Crowley for 6,000 years at this point, and if She were listening, lying would not work. So Crowley probably believes he's telling the truth here with this story: Crowley believes one reason he Fell is that he asked questions.

But is he right?

Another line from the Metatron:

The Metatron seems to speak of Crowley's habit of asking questions as though he finds it obnoxious rather than damning, so maybe the questions weren't the problem. Then again we know that the Metatron is a lying piece of shit and an authoritarian who doesn't want his regime questioned, willing to erase memories and destroy lives to cover up the 'institutional problem' that Heaven doesn't know what the Plan is and is run by a handful of warmongers who want everyone dead or indentured.

Either way, this is the third time in the series someone has talked about the problem of Crowley asking questions, so my guess is his questions were probably a salient feature of his Fall.

Onward!

Before we look at the 3rd story, remember that we have strong evidence now that Crowley has had his memories erased by Heaven.

But we also know Furfur, another demon, still has his memories. Inference: Heaven don't erase the memories of every angel who Falls. This suggests that Heaven erased Crowley's memories because he had knowledge in those memories Heaven didn't want him to have anymore.

This may not be specific knowledge. We know Crowley has a high security clearance in Heaven and therefore must have been a high-ranking angel, and we know he created a nebula with Saraqael, so presumably there was a lot of stuff in his head Heaven wanted stripped out.

But I think there was something specific, and here's why. Firstly, there's no reason to assume that importance in Heaven is a guarantee of importance in Hell. Furfur could have been a high-ranking angel too before ending up an admin in Hell. (Hell does not seem to be any more of a meritocracy than Heaven does.)

Secondly, it's clear that Crowley doesn't know his memories have been erased. If he knew, then when Furfur says "We were in the same Legion? Just before the Fall? Doing dubious battle on the Plains of Heaven? Remember?" he'd say something like "Don't be stupid, of course I don't remember, Heaven erased my memories."

Instead he says,

Now, maybe Crowley is just being a dick here. Certainly we're supposed to take it that way until he goes up to Heaven with Muriel and doesn't remember Saraqael either.

But what if he's being truthful? If Crowley is being honest (and a dick), that would mean the Fash didn't erase all of Crowley's memories of his time in Heaven. We know this because Furfur says he and Crowley fought together "on the Plains of Heaven," and "just before the Fall" [emphasis added].

This suggests that Maybe Heaven didn't erase time from Crowley's memory. Maybe they erased people.

Okay, now here's Crowley's 3rd story about how he Fell:

It's a cute line, but what if it's not just a throwaway joke referencing what people say about kids who go down the wrong path and become criminals?

Crowley mutters this 3rd story to himself, so we can be confident Crowley believes this to be true. But Crowley doesn't know who the wrong people are. He doesn't know whose company got him thrown out of Heaven, because his memories of all those people have been taken from him.

And taken together, these three stories and Crowley's stolen memories suggest a bigger, more disturbing inference: Crowley doesn't know why he Fell. (Or sauntered vaguely downwards.)

Like Crowley, Job was once a favorite of God. But he has fallen out of that favor and been delivered to demons for reasons God refuses to tell him.

We the audience are meant to draw a parallel between Job and Crowley. We know this not just because of the speech Crowley cathartically gives Job's goats, in which everything he says to the goats can be just as easily applied to Job or himself, but from two other indications. Here's one:

Job is wearing Crowley's color.

The other is the minisode title, "A Companion to Owls." This phrase comes from the Book of Job, specifically Job 30:29. Job, lamenting what has happened to him, says,

 I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.

In Biblical symbolism, dragon=serpent=snake=demon. And in some Mesopotamian beliefs--one of them Judaism--owls were associated with demons as well:

and

and

So the Job of the Bible is saying in this verse the same thing the Job of Good Omens says: God has forsaken me and delivered me to demons. Or even: God has forsaken me and I am now being treated like demons are treated.

And he's also saying something else. In the Bible, owls symbolize loneliness, desolation, and solitude. They're consistently depicted as living in barren, abandoned, isolated places. Seriously. Go search owl(s) in a Biblical concordance and read all 30 entries: it comes up a lot. If you're a companion to owls, you're alone (except for the owls) in the wilderness. You're forsaken.

WHOMST do we know whose signal color is yellow, who's a brother of demons, and who admits at the end of the episode that being alone and forsaken in the wilderness is lonely?

So. Job, a character whose claim to fame is that God punished him and he didn't know why, is a mirror character to Crowley. This on its own isn't enough to say definitely that Crowley doesn't know why he Fell, but combined with the three different stories he tells about his Fall, I think there's enough textual evidence to conclude that Crowley isn't entirely sure why he fell; he only has educated guesses. Either he knew and the memory was erased, or he was never told at all.

My question about Crowley's Fall is this: Who pushed him?

Was Crowley's Fall an act of God Herself, or was it an act of Heaven? What did the fucking Metatron have to do with it? What was Crowley's crime? When Aziraphale takes charge of Heaven and the Second Coming, will he read Crowley's file?

[hazelcallahan]

hi dani, hope you're having a good one. your gifs are so vibrant and hq! if you don't mind sharing, what's your process?

i appreciate the compliment! i first started making gifs back during my glee fandom days in 2011 so i have been doing this for a while lmao, but here's my general process (under a cut because it got long as hell):

i'm gonna assume you know the general giffing process for this - if you need me to help you out with screencaps, lmk! just make sure whatever you use is 1080p. i torrent to get the best possible quality, which is its own tutorial, but there's plenty of those out there.

open up whatever you use to make gifs - i use adobe photoshop cc that i definitely legally got - and go into file -> scripts -> load files into stack and select all the pictures.

once you've done that, go to the window tab and check "timeline" to add the timeline window to your workspace and click "create video timeline, then click the three small boxes in the bottom left to convert it to a frame animation. then go to the hamburger menu in the top right and click "make frames from layers". this will actually put the frames in reverse, so go to the same menu and click "reverse frames". from here i go the same menu AGAIN, click "select all frames", then change the frame delay to 0.05.

now it's time to crop! for the best quality, make sure your image size matches that of tumblr's. tumblr's image width is 540px, if you're doing two images side by side it's 268px, and i do not recommend doing three side by side because things get weird. the height can be whatever you want.

sharpening is another aspect of getting those gifs as crisp as possible. there are many ways to get a good sharpen, but the way i do it, you have to convert your timeline back to video timeline, so click the little icon in the bottom left:

then select all your layers, right click, and select "convert to smart object". then, with that layer selected, go to filter -> sharpen -> smart sharpen, then use these settings:

duplicate that sharpened layer, then go to filter -> blur -> gaussian blur, with these settings:

then take the layer that has both the sharpen and the blur, and set the opacity to 50%.

now it's time to colour! i have the same general process to colour all my gifs, sometimes with an added selective colour layer if i really want to amp up or turn down a certain colour. but all of them can be found under layer -> new adjustment layer. first is a curves layer to brighten up the whole thing

then another, different curves layer to add some contrast:

then a vibrance layer set to pretty high, around 80-100% but i play it by ear because the next layer is actually a gradient map set to soft light with 50% opacity to add some more contrast and tone down the vibrancy a bit

now, in order, i mess around with a selective colour layer (generally i only touch the red, yellow, white, black, and neutral colours, unless there's something i really wanna specifically bring out like the cyans/blues/greens in a lot of the arcane gifs) and for this there's no real system. you just gotta play it by ear depending on the scene. next, do the same with a colour balance layer. i usually top it off with a levels layer to add just a tiny bit more contrast, but that isn't entirely necessary as you can do the same by amping up the blacks in the selective colour layer.

once you're done colouring, go to file -> save for web. make sure to set the looping to "forever", and keep an eye out for the file size. luckily for newer gifmakers, the size limit is a whole 10MB now (though sometimes it'll cap out at something like 9.8 so stay on the safe side). it used to be a LOT smaller, iirc it was 500KB when i first started. if your gif is over size, you're gonna have to just cut out some frames by playing with the edges on the timeline window, since cutting down the colours will affect quality.

you're actually not quite done here - after you've saved it, close your file and then open the gif you just made. it'll default open in frame animation, and you'll see that the delay on the frames is actually 0.07 now. it's something that happens during the conversion to video timeline. select all frames and change that delay back to 0.05 since 0.07 is actually a noticeably slower and less smooth gif. save that the same way you did before, and NOW you're done! thanks for sticking around! happy giffing!

[thefanfictionkingdom]

I'm going to be honest with you. I read this when the chapter first dropped. Similarly, I started writing my review on paper when the chapter dropped. And I still haven't finished writing my review. But, I figured I should at least start typing it up.

😤 Not going to lie, Part 6 had me at a loss for words. I'm reading it, rereading it, and I know I'll go back to it again.

Needless to say, a lot went down. And, of course, I have thoughts, then I had THOUGHTS, and then I had thots.

Let's start with R and Eddie. Despite the fact that they're the main pairing of this fic, my reviews don't mention them as much compared to Steve and R and Robin and R. Really, that's not fair since Eddie and R are the heroes in this fic. (Still, in my defense, it's easier to talk about Steve and Robin because it's just easier to articulate the righteous indignation and rage. I mean...it's not just me, right?)

But, I digress. We've hit a milestone with Eddie and R. They admitted their feelings for each other! My reaction:

Follow that up with a

Their declaration of love and the moments that followed can be summed up with those two gifs. Either which way, it's just 👩🏻‍🍳😘. Perfection, really.

Let's be real. Steve's party was climactic, for lack of a better word. R kissed Eddie in front of Steve and their friends, essentially declaring that she's moving on and replacing Steve. On top of that, he's realizing the extent of how close Eddie and R are. Meanwhile, Robin tells R she doesn't want to be friends and places the entire blame on R for the deterioration of their friendship. And if that isn't enough, Steve calls R a slut. Bridges were burned. Friendships destroyed.

This begs the question. Where do we go from here? Fasten your seatbelts. This review is going to be a long one.

Let's start with R. She's the heroine of this fic so we should focus on her first.

Throughout the story, she has been through the wringer. I'm not going to mince any words—she's been on one hell of a rollercoaster ride. After the trauma that is the Upside Down, she was consumed by fear and worry over Eddie's well-being. If that wasn't enough, there's the trauma that comes in the aftermath of the whole ordeal. Then there's Robin ditching her for Nancy and Steve jumping into every other girl's bed but hers. Yeah...unfortunately, R didn't have much of a support system in Robin and Steve. So, where did that leave her? She turned to Eddie for solace.

Now, after the party, R has lost both Robin and Steve as friends. For us, the audience, we know that she's better off. But for anyone who's lost friendships, we've all been there. Losing friends is hard, y'all. Even when ending the friendship is necessary, it's still difficult to lose a friend.

Still, the party wasn't a huge loss for R. She and Eddie admitted their feelings for each other. Moreover, she admitted that her feelings for Eddie are stronger than her feelings for Steve. My interpretation—Eddie's definitely not a rebound. I'm going to need to reread this scene because it feels like I'm barely scratching the surface.

So, let's talk about Eddie. He is definitely something else. He's been in love with R since high school. Throughout the fic, he paid attention to R. He called Steve out on his behavior. When it comes to R, he's her knight. Even when they embarked on their FWB/affair, he didn't have any expectations that she would choose him over Steve. Frankly, it wouldn't surprise me that he would've been the "I just want my beloved to be happy" character if Steve had taken Eddie's comments for the wake-up call that it was. Like, if R and a changed Steve became endgame.

This brings me to Eddie and Steve. My first impression when I read Part 6 with Steve's POV was that the Beatles's "You're Gonna Lose That Girl" essentially summed up the Eddie/R/Steve drama.

Think about it. It's common knowledge that R loved Steve and it's expected that they would end up together. Instead of committing to R, Steve goofed around with other girls, only promising that he would get with R once he's done screwing around. And throughout all of Steve's screwing around, Eddie and R have pointed out that R is single and, eventually, she's going to get sick of Steve's antics (if she hasn't already). And, really, by the time Steve gets that wakeup call, it's going to be a case of "too little, too late" because why would R want to get with Steve when Eddie's treating her a lot better?

This brings us to Steve. 😤 Steve, Steve, Steve. 🤦🏻‍♀️ His behavior reeks of a CW teen drama magnified at an 11 from a scale of 1 to 10. His words and his actions contradict each other. He thinks his story with R is a slow-burn friends-to-lovers romance. Yeah, no, it's not. It's definitely shaping up to be a friends-to-enemies or a friends-to-strangers. He decimated that bridge. Like, this is all I can see.

Anyhoo, Mr. Harrington made an appearance. My first thought after reading that scene was, "So that's where he got it from."

For real, Steve and Mr. Harrington are two peas in a pod. Their interaction really grinds my gears and makes me want to grab and squeeze a stress ball. Mr. Harrington routinely cheats on Mrs. Harrington and expects her to accept it and stick around. Similarly, Steve parades his conquests around R and expects her to wait in the wings once he's done messing around and be grateful that he chose her to make a life with.

The common denominator between Steve and Mr. Harrington is that they got complacent with R and Mrs. Harrington. The Harrington men (if I can call them that) treat R and Mrs. Harrington like an old shirt pushed to the back of the closet to be ignored and forgotten about until they see it again on an unrelated search. With regards to Mr. and Mrs. H, it might be too late for her (depending on her view of divorce) but it's not too late for R.

Going off on a tangent, when I read that this may be a Steddie/R fic, I was intrigued. I do love a good polyamory fic. But, after reading Parts 1-6, I can honestly say that Everlong Steve won't fit with Eddie and R.

Here's what we know:

R loved Steve and confessed her feelings to him.

It's not a secret that R loved Steve. Everybody knows. This isn't the "idiots in love" trope for this pair.

Steve told R that he loved her but he can't commit to her. (Side note: What kind of bullshit is that?!) R promised to wait for him.

Despite what he told her, he thought it was appropriate to mess around with other girls. (You say you can't commit to R but you're dating other girls? 🤨 Sounds fake, but okay. Does this remind you of anything?) Then, to add insult to injury, Steve is just blatant about getting with other girls who aren't R in front of her.

It's expected for R and Steve to end up together. Steve assumes he's going to be with R at the end of summer. Mr. Harrington expects them to be together—he called R "Steve's girl". Hell, Nancy assumed they'll be together.

Even though Eddie has feelings for R, he's telling Steve to get his act together. And yet, Steve is just ignoring that sound advice.

Oh well. Steve's loss, Eddie's gain.

What does this all mean? Too much has happened between Steve, Eddie, and R. Steve's burned his bridges with them. If he's lucky, he will clean up his act and he can be on slightly better terms with them. Time will tell but I won't be holding my breath.

I'm not sure how I feel about Robin in this fic. Oh, wait, yes I do. What the 🤬?!

Robin, in this fic, is a fair weather friend. When the going gets tough, she disappears. I definitely need to reread R and Robin's scene in Part 5 and compare Robin in Part 6. Nevertheless, it all boils down to one fact. Everlong Robin is not a good friend to R.

In Part 5, Robin complained about R talking about Steve and how R shut everyone out in the aftermath of the Upside Down and Eddie dying.

Hm.

Let's unpack that.

Friendship is a two-way street. If Robin is going to complain to R about her feelings for Vickie, it's only fair for R to complain about her feelings for Steve. Out of curiosity, did Robin ever suggest that R move on from Steve prior to blowing up at R? Like, in all their years of "friendship", did Robin ever tell R that she deserves better than the crumbs Steve gives her?

For that matter, when R shut down, why didn't Robin reach out and check in with R? When I was feeling down, my friend checked in with me through text. If I was having a really bad day, she would call me. Now, I get that this takes place in the 80s, but Robin couldn't write letters or pick up the phone while she was away at college? Pfft. Some friend.

Either way, it's safe to say that Robin completely decimated her friendship with R. It got destroyed by a pack of C4; the earth has been scorched and salted. Nothing can grow from that ground. The land is barren. I'm not even sure if Robin has the slightest inkling of the enormity of her actions. I get the sense that there will be far-reaching consequences.

As I mentioned in my last review, Robin got used to R's unconditional love. She took it for granted and expected R to hang around even after being treated like a second class citizen. Now, with her shiny new friendship with Nancy Wheeler, she's willing to toss R aside without any thought.

Okay...this got even longer than I anticipated. I'm going to stop my review here. I still have to cover my thoughts on Nancy and Robin and then Steve's epiphany.

Anyhoo, I am really enjoying how this fic is turning out. I can't wait to see what happens next. Especially the aftermath of the friendships. Please tell me R and Eddie will be living their best lives and R will have a new circle of friends who truly appreciate her? Pretty please? 🥺

Thank you!

Everlong // part six 

Warnings: 18+, angst, mentions of death, nightmares, mentions of anxiety and depression, smut, unprotected sex

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader / Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve remembers the night of the party, he suffers through the guilt and the aftermath while you and Eddie get even closer. 

Author’s note: Don’t really like with the way it turned out but I struggled with this part and kept going back to change things. Definitely not my favorite part but I hope that you’ll like it though! 

Series masterlist

-

Steve woke up with a pounding head the next morning.

Groaning in pain, he keeps his eyes shut as he puts his hand on his forehead. His nose is aching and so is his jaw, his mouth feels dry, like he hasn’t had any water in days.

The noises downstairs startle him and he opens his eyes, groaning again as he accidentally looks directly into the sun that is shining through his open window.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, closing his eyes, he runs his hand over his face as he sits up on the bed, placing his feet on the carpeted floor, he leans his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands as the nausea rushes through him.

Keep reading

[nervousgardenerkid]

Hi hi hi,

We love Steve but we also love toxic King Steve 🤰

Would you please write some heart wrenching angst about him making a bet in high school on reader with his friends. They’ve been in a ‘perfect’ relationship for years now he’s ready to propose and everything. Then BOOM on their anniversary they bump into previous friend and he lets the secret out. Hell breaks loose maybe reader packs a bag and leaves but please can you end it happy my heart can’t take Steve being sad for too long 🫶

THANK YOU SO MUCH, I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!!!!

Truth or Dare?

a/n: oh anon,,,i LOVE the way ur thinking. if there's one thing about me it's that i love to write a good fight scene...the angst,,,the tears,,,UGH it keeps me alive. this doesn't have a specific time setting but i'm gonna say it's somewhere around season 2 till season 3 maybe,,,idk no monsters are mentioned it's just angst😭 i hope you like this anon thank you for the idea! credit to the gif owner <3

Steve and his friends laughed when he saw Tommy coming back with his hand on his now red cheek. You see, Tommy was dared to tell a girl a dirty pickup line and it earned him a hard smack to the face.

“Dude! I had no idea she was gonna slap you like that!” Steve laughed out.

“Whatever, she was a bitch anyways.”

The group all laughed and threw bits and pieces of their food at him while he tried to calm them down.

“Okay, Harrington, truth or dare?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Pft, easy. Hit me with a dare.”

Tommy let out a hum and his eyes scanned the cafeteria carefully picking his next target. He felt a smirk on his face when his eyes landed on you taking notes from your math textbook.

“I dare you to ask her out.”

“Done.”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Tommy said while pointing at Steve. “You have to date her for a month.”

Steve felt his heart drop. He knew he was a dick, but he wouldn't want to string someone along like that.

“Tommy, that's a little-”

“What's wrong king Steve? Scared you might break her wittle heart?” He said with a fake pout.

Yes.

“No, I'm not scared of that. As a matter of fact, I’ll date her for three months.”

Steve didn't bother listening to what the group had to say as he made his way over to you. There was a tiny voice in his head pleading, begging him to stop. To just leave you alone, cause you really are a nice girl who doesn't deserve any of this. Steve has had a conversation with you before and you've touched his heart with how genuine you are. He plops down in the seat in front of you and taps in your textbook gently.

You look up at him and smile, taking off the headphones to your walkman and pressing pause.

“Hi, Steve!”

“Hey, there pretty girl, what are you doing?”

You blushed at the nickname and pushed your notes towards him.

“Just studying, I have a math exam tomorrow so I'm cramming as much as I can.”

Steve hummed and looked over your notes trying his best to avoid eye contact with you.

“So I’m guessing you're studying tonight too?”

You nodded your head and flipped the pencil that was in your hand.

“Why what's up?”

“I wanted to take you on a date.”

You accidentally flung the pencil at him, apologizing multiple times while you scrambled to grab it.

“Like um, like a study date?”

“I was hoping we could go without the books? Just us two.”

You blushed and started biting your lip as you thought about it. Steve wanted to stop and come clean right there. He's never seen you this excited over anything before, and it breaks his heart knowing it's all a bet.

“Sure, I can put off studying tonight and hang out.”

Steve smiled at you. “Great! I'll pick you up at…seven?”

“Perfect! I'll see you then.”

Steve smiled and got up to leave, but not before he gave you a soft kiss on your cheek. He walked back to the lunch table with his chest slightly pumped out as his friends looked at him, their faces asking how it went.

“Sorry I can't hang out tonight boys, I have a date.”

-

The two-month mark hit before Steve realized that he doesn't want to end the relationship in three months. These past two months have been the best for Steve and he's never been so happy. He began to treat this like it was a real relationship, Tommy and his friends still poke fun at him. They tell him that he can call it off now and Tommy will even pay him cause he's starting to blow them off to spend time with you. Steve just laughs and shakes his head telling him that he's really dedicated to this bet.

Before you know it, months turn into years and Steve drops his shitty friends and loses his king Steve title to Billy. Now, usually, this would've upset Steve but now he has you. He doesn't have to worry about his friends slipping up and saying you're just a bet. He doesn't have to hear the mean and inappropriate things they say about you, and now he can spend all his time with you.

There was a little period where you guys split up. It was six months into the relationship and the guilt started eating Steve away. It never occurred to him that Tommy could ruin the relationship in a split second, they didn't have the most mutual fallout that friends usually had. Steve started feeling like everything was a lie, he felt like loving you was a lie, it was his favorite lie, but a lie nonetheless. He was the one to call it off, it lasted for a month but it was the worst month in Steve's entire life. He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep, and he missed about a week's worth of school. It wasn't until you knocked on his front door, a stack of school work in your arms that he finally felt complete.

Apologies began spilling from his mouth and tears were falling down his cheeks. You forgave him of course. You always forgive Steve for what he's done. He didn't feel the need to bring up the bet at all once you guys got back together. He figured that since he's the one who broke things and got back together with you, you guys had a clean slate. Sure, you still had the same anniversary date but that's not what mattered! What mattered is that you and Steve were officially back together and nothing could ruin that.

Today was your second anniversary with Steve and you were both so excited. Everything was going perfectly between you two and you felt like nothing could ruin it. You were taking a walk around town after you two had an amazing dinner at Enzo’s. You stopped in your tracks telling Steve you had to use the restroom real quick. You kiss him on his cheek and walk into the nearest store you could find. Steve looks around and sees an old couple holding hands and walking into the movie theatre, he smiles as he starts to think of his future with you.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that you Harrington?”

Steve whips his head around and sees Tommy making his way toward him. He gives his old friend a tight-lipped smile and crosses his arms against his chest.

“In the flesh.”

Tommy laughs and stands in front of him. “How have you been, man? It's been a while.”

Steve makes small talk with Tommy, but he can't help but notice that he has this gut feeling that something terribly wrong is going to happen. He feels your hands wrap around his upper arm and he sees the look of shock on Tommy’s face when he realizes it's you.

“You're still with y/n?”

You roll your eyes. “Nice to see you too Tommy.”

Tommy smirks and looks at Steve.

“Does she know?”

You look between the two of them with a confused facial expression.

“Know what?”

“Shut up Tommy.”

“I mean what, how long have you guys even been together? You were supposed to stop at three months, Steve.”

Your heart fell to your stomach and your hands dropped from Steve’s arms. No, there's no way Tommy meant what he was saying. This has to be some kind of sick joke, right? Your eyes drift to Steve and you can see every emotion on his face clear as day.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Tommy chuckles but covers it with a cough. “Guess the cats out of the bag.”

You're not one to turn to violence, if anything you're the last person to throw the first punch, but you've never felt so hurt, so betrayed in your entire life. Before you know it your hand is connected to Tommy’s cheek and a loud smack is heard, people stop and stare at the scene before then mumbling things under their breath. Hot tears are streaming down your face and you snatch your hand away when you feel Steve grab for you.

“Don't!” you shout at him. “Don't touch me. We're done.”

You don't even give Steve a second to explain himself cause you're already walking away from him trying to put as much distance between yourself as possible. You usually love Steve and his stubbornness, but right now you wish he'd stop chasing you.

“Y/n! Wait I can explain-”

“Explain what Steve?! How our relationship started off as a bet? Seems like there's nothing to explain there!”

You feel Steve grab your arm and you try to fight him off but you're just too sad to do anything.

“That's not true-”

“Do you even love me, Steve? Or was that some kind of sick game too?”

Steve’s heart broke when he finally got a good look at you. You had tears streaming down your face and fire behind your eyes.

“Of course I love you-”

“Bullshit!” You shouted while urging your arm away.

Steve flinched at the all too familiar word and shook his head trying to fight back tears.

“It's not. It's not-”

“Yes, it is Steve! This whole relationship is bullshit! I've been living a lie for years by thinking you loved me!”

“I do love you! You think I’d stay with you for that long if I didn't?!”

Both of you were shouting at this point and people were starting to stop and stare. Anger fueled both of you and you both didn't care what was being said to the other person.

“Fuck you, Steve.”

“I should've never taken the god damn bet, it would've saved me a lot of trouble.” he didn't mean that, not one bit.

You let out a bitter laugh and shook your head. “Nancy was right, you're bullshit. I never want to see you again.”

“Fine by me.”

-

It's been three weeks since you and Steve had your big fight and to say you were both miserable was a massive understatement. Robin and Nancy would drop by to check in on you and bring you some food. They tried their best to cheer you up but weren't successful.

“So is this like a divorced parent situation?”

Nancy smacked her arm and smiled at you. “Don't listen to her.”

“I'm asking the real questions here!”

You dipped your sad, soggy fry into ketchup and ate it.

“If you're asking me if I'm making you choose sides I'm not.”

Robin smiled. “Thanks, mom.”

You let out a giggle and rolled your eyes making robin gasp and coo at you.

“There she is!!” she exclaimed while wrapping her arms around you in a hug. Nancy melted at the sight and joined in on the hug. Tears began to form as you hugged them both tighter.

“Thank you guys, for everything.”

“Y/n you don't have to thank us,” Nancy said while pulling away and fixing your hair. “We'll always be here for you.”

Robin’s watch beeped and let out a sigh. “Except, for now, we have Steve duty, Nance.

You looked down at your now cold food and cleared your throat. “Is he okay?”

Nancy and robin looked at each other before looking back at you. “You can come with us and find out.”

-

Your heart was pounding as you sat in the backseat of Nancy’s car, you don't know what came over you or what made you want to see Steve. Nancy parked the car and Robin was quick to jump out.

“Nance? Aren't you coming too?” You asked before stepping out of the car.

Nancy shook her head. “Feels a bit awkward helping my ex through a breakup ya know?”

You smiled understanding what she meant and thanked her for the ride. You follow Robin to his front door and you start to feel sick to your stomach. Your hands were getting clammy and if you didn't lean against the other door you're pretty sure you would've fallen by now from how weak your knees felt.

“Crap, I left something in Nance’s car. Stay here real quick I already knocked and everything.” Robin said while running towards the car.

You were too lost in your head to register what she said. You looked up at her and noticed she got back into the car and buckled up. Realization begins to set in and you stand up straight looking at your best friends with wide eyes.

“YOU GOT THIS KID!” Robin shouted.

“I’M SORRY Y/N SHE MADE ME!” Nancy shouted while speeding off.

Bitches, but I love them. You thought to yourself. Time seemed to stop the minute Steve opened his front door.

“Robin, I told you I'm- oh.”

Oh? Oh?? What does he mean by that?!

There was only one thing that was running through Steve’s mind when he saw it was you at the door. You're wearing his yellow sweater.

“I uh, I just wanted to check on you…I guess,” you mumbled while looking down at your feet.

“You still have my sweater?”

Your eyes met his and it took every fiber in your body to not wipe away the stray tears that were stained on his face. You shrugged your shoulders.

“Smells like you.”

He gave you a sad smile. “I use your shirt as a pillowcase.”

“Can I come in?”

Steve didn't waste any time stepping aside and letting you into his family home. You sat on his couch and looked at him, your heart jumping when you saw he was smiling at you.

“Wipe that smile off your face, Harrington I’m still furious with you.”

Steve nodded his head. “Understandably so, but you can't be mad at me for being happy that the girl I love is still wearing my sweater.”

You quickly look down trying to hide the blush that was creeping onto your cheeks. You cleared your throat and fumbled with your fingers.

“I came here to talk. At least I think I did.”

Steve makes his way to the couch, he points to the spot next to you silently asking if he could have a seat there. You nod your head and refuse to make eye contact with him fearing you'll cry on the spot.

“Was everything Tommy said true?”

He nodded his head.

“I need you to be honest with me Steve, were you ever going to tell me?”

Steve sat and thought for a moment. He never really thought about telling you, sure there were moments he wanted to but he could never bring himself to do it.

“I don't know.”

“Is that you broke up with me? Cause of the bet?”

“No! God no, I mean technically yes but it wasn't because the bet was up.”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Look, I'm going, to be honest with you. I never wanted to ask you out, not like that at least, and I know it's not a good excuse but being the king of Hawkins high I had so much pressure on me. My mom and dad never really cared for me, so I found comfort in assholes like Tommy and Carol but even they didn't care about me.”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“I never should've asked you out like that,” he whispered. “you didn't deserve that, no one does but especially you y/n. I broke up with you that day because it was getting too much for me. I was tired of living a lie, but god y/n please don't think that for a second I didn't love you. I love you with all my heart and no bet is going to change that.”

Both of you were crying now. You were quick to pull Steve into a hug and cry into his shoulder. You hated this. You absolutely hated Tommy for making Steve take that stupid bet, you hated his parents for not paying enough attention to him, and you hated that Steve surrounded himself with fake friends just so he could feel an ounce of love and affection. Steve was mumbling how sorry he was over and over again. He understands if this is the one time you can't forgive him, but he's praying to whatever greater power is out there that you do.

You pull away from him and wipe his tears away with gentle hands. He leans into your touch trying to savor the moment for as long as he can.

“I'm sorry for what I said to you. I shouldn't have called you bullshit.”

“You had every right to.”

“Doesn't mean I should have.”

Steve’s hands reach up to your face and he gently strokes your cheek.

“I'm so sorry for hurting you.”

You take a deep sigh and lose your eyes trying to figure out what to say next. You still love Steve, and you know you always will but how were you supposed to just openly trust him again? Especially after something like that.

“I think,” you started. “I think we should start over. Brand new clean slate, you know take it slow.”

Steve swears he would've fallen to his knees if he wasn't sitting on the couch with you.

“Really? You mean that?”

“I do, but I’m serious about taking it slow Steve.”

Steve smiles and brings you in for a tight hug. You feel his tears hit the top of your head and you can almost feel his heart beating through his chest.

“I'll go as slow as you want. I don't care, I just want to be with you.”

You let out a giggle and Steve swooned at the sound of it. He swears he's never heard something more beautiful than your giggle.

“This is your last chance, Harrington. Don't mess it up.”

His hold on you tightens, almost as if he's scared you'll disappear any second.

“I wouldn't dream of it,” he said while kissing you on the forehead. For the first time in a long time, Steve finally felt like he could breathe. The weight of the world was off his shoulders and it was all thanks to you.

“Robin is going to be so happy about this,” you said with a chuckle.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh god, she told you about the divorce arrangement didn't she?”