#To create something with hopefully a bit more weight to it regardless of how things turn out in the end

[twentytwothings]

Thoughts on the Steve-Nancy-Jonathan love triangle of season 4

There are two main problems, in my view, with the way the love triangle is set up. The first is this:

Jonathan should have told Nancy the truth, and he should have done it right off the bat, either at the start of the season or even shortly before it.

The thing is, the root conflict between Jonathan and Nancy makes sense. Nancy wants to go to a different college than Jonathan does, one too far away from his family for him to be able to support them the way he wants to. It makes sense he doesn’t want to follow her to Emerson, and it makes sense he doesn’t want her to follow him to his preferred college by giving up on her own dreams either. But Nancy would understand the weight of this as well—she cares about her education and her future.

If Jonathan tells Nancy his reservations, maybe Nancy’s immediate response is, fine, I’ll come with you instead, but on the strength of both her own and Jonathan’s wish for her to follow her own path in life, I think they could both spend season 4 just… thinking. They have by now spent over half a year in a long distance relationship—are they prepared to continue like this through all those years of college? What about after? Who knows what the situation might look like by then, what new concerns might keep them apart? How much of their lives are they willing to dedicate to uncertainty and distance?

We saw in season 3 that their relationship, while rooted in love and respect, is hardly some perfect cloudless fantasy life. Now, building on this, let’s ask the next question: how much are they willing to sacrifice to keep it?

This would give Nancy something real to think through over the course of the season about her relationship with Jonathan and what she’s willing to give up for it. It’s something that requires looking within herself and drawing a conclusion—rather than just being left in the dark to be kind of annoyed and unsure of where she stands with him. As for Jonathan, it avoids making him the cause of the problem, and gives one of the few things he’s got going on this season more weight than a simple lack-of-communication plot.

The likeliest reasons I can think of as to why the showrunners didn’t go this path to begin with would be either 1) because they didn’t think the “separate colleges” problem would be big enough to matter if Jonathan actually said anything about it, in which case Jonathan just looks stupid, or 2) because if this is what breaks Nancy and Jonathan apart, then it wasn’t really an issue of incompatibility between them but just life getting in the way, which could in turn make an endgame Nancy/Steve pairing feel like just a consolation prize to Nancy when she couldn’t be with the guy she really wanted.

I can understand the second one, but I don’t agree with it. People aren’t made for one specific other person; they find someone out of many possible someones and then build a life with them.

Nancy chose Jonathan over Steve once before, that’s true—but they are all three different people now, particularly Steve, and isn’t that the whole thing making her reconsider her relationship with him to begin with? I don’t think you need to demonstrate that Nancy and Jonathan could never have worked out under any circumstances in order to allow Nancy to have an equally worthy, or better, relationship with Steve.

This is not to say that Jonathan and Nancy can’t come out of this still together; in fact, I think this version of events will make an eventual reconciliation all the stronger. If, at the end of the day, they find that yes, they are willing to do what it takes to stay together, whether that means giving up on their individual plans for the future or accepting years of staying in a long-distance relationship or something other than that again, it would feel like their relationship has survived a real trial-by-fire and come out stronger for it. It would, when all is said and done at the end of the final season, give the season 4 strain in their relationship purpose, as it would lead to a real affirmation of the strength of their commitment to one another. But as it stands in canon—assuming Nancy and Jonathan remain together in the end, won’t this little detour of theirs feel kind of weird? What does it provide their relationship that their disagreement in season 3 did not?

In season 4 as it is, Nancy lacks agency, and Jonathan is unreliable. The whole situation feels insubstantial, made up as an excuse for more relationship drama. But it didn’t need to be that way.

There is real weight to Jonathan’s dilemma. Instead of making this another flimsy story about lack of communication breaking a relationship apart—just take the issue at hand seriously.

The second main problem is that Steve and Nancy should have spent the season becoming friends more than anything.

The thing about Steve and Nancy’s dynamic is that it has always been defined by romance. We meet them when they’re already pretty much together, and it’s clear there was no real “just friends” period before that point—just a steadily building flirtation. When they break up in season 2, that also marks the end of their interactions altogether, except for a line or two taking place in a larger group dynamic at the end of season 3. Then season 4 puts them together again and they immediately return to flirting.

The problem here is that their relationship lacks a real sense of foundation. What lies beneath the romance, the dating aspect? I don’t know. I’m not sure they do either. In their time together, they have always adhered to it—and Nancy in particular spent season 2 seeming to be mostly going through the motions of it more than anything. What do they look like together without the societal framework of a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship to fall back on?

Additionally, Nancy and Steve have some real unresolved issues to work through. The show seems to have mostly decided the problem was just that Steve had a lot of growing left to do back when they were dating and leaves it at that, but the reality of their time together and how it impacted both of them could easily be delved into more deeply than that. Talking about it—offering each their perspectives, both what they thought then and how those thoughts have changed by now—would be a compelling way to show the two characters feeling their way back to something like solid ground with one another after so long adrift.

This—hashing out what went wrong in their old relationship—would be happening simultaneously as Nancy is contemplating her current one with Jonathan, pushing her to consider the two in relation to one another. Any hints of Nancy and Steve’s relationship blossoming back up come near the end of the season, when they’ve had time to settle back into being on good terms with each other, and it feels like something they unearth or build anew rather than them just kind of picking back up where they left off.

This also has the benefit of giving them more to do—more of a chance to grow, or to show how they’ve grown—than either of them really had this season otherwise.

Steve holds no speech about how it has “always been you”; he truly moved on in season 3, like he said, even if season 4 sees old feelings coming back to him. They might still talk about whether they might have made it as a couple as the people they are now, and this may or may not take the form of a confession. Eddie doesn’t make any claims about unambiguous signs of true love on Nancy’s part. Possibly nothing is ever stated explicitly—to avoid forcing the issue to come to a point, instead allowing them to potentially sink back into friendship at the end of the day—but there is a sense that an old door, or perhaps just a window, has been reopened.

Narratively, this will strengthen any potential endgame Nancy/Steve relationship, because it will give their difficulties in season 2 and time apart in season 3 greater impact. Their breakup mattered, and it defines their relationship even now, as they struggle to work through it. Their time apart mattered, and it changed how they feel about one another and the places from which they approach each other. It will also narratively strengthen an endgame where they don’t end up together, because their friendship will remain regardless now that it’s no longer dependent upon romance to exist; no matter what happens in the end, an important relationship was repaired and remains repaired, so the time spent developing it won’t feel wasted even if no romance ultimately comes of it.

Comparing canon—what are we left with if Nancy and Steve don’t end up together? What would be the point of it all? Steve-and-Nancy live and die by their romance, and so does the strength of their season 4 screentime together.

In this new version of the story, things don’t look too dissimilar to canon by the end of the season. Like before, Nancy has come to view Steve in a new light. Like before, Jonathan and Nancy still haven’t worked out their problems. Like before, all their relationships face an uncertain future. The destination remains the same; it’s only that the path there has been slightly altered.

[pubbybutch]

May I request Vex, Pike, and Keyleth with a GN S/O who is kind of an idiot? Like they're stupid strong but if something complex is being discussed you can just see the thousand yard stare and the stupid grin as they imagine themselves doing literally anything else? And, being more brawn than brains, they have to bail them out of their bad plans. Who wants to fist fight a dragon? I DO!

VOX MACHINA X Dumbass (affectionate) Reader Head Canons

Thank you very much anon for your ask, I’m sorry this took forever! 💚💚💚

Vex 

Vex always knew that the lights were not all on upstairs, and she knew it would bite the entirety of Vox Machina in the ass. 

The first night she really realised how extreme your lack of common sense is, has you pitted against two half-orcs with some ties to some big thing in Wildemount (you didn’t quite catch whatever it was they said), two against one and with both your opponents skilled and highly trained fighters the outcome was plainly inevitable.

 So now here you sit, slumped over a chair, Vex rubbing your back soothingly her deft hands easing your breathing as you recover from being winded, a fierce punch to your stomach having completely squished the air from your lungs and was that pain in your side a broken rib? 

That's the first time Vex really notices. But now she knows how your mind works or perhaps doesn't work, she just sits and waits for you to fuck up enough to call to her for help or to fall onto the stool next to hers.

After ANOTHER repeat of your shenanigans, she ends up recruiting Vax to aid her in carrying your exhausted and very passed out body up the stairs of the parties tavern of choice and getting you situated on a bed.

Vex opts for the windowsill. She always does when this happens. Letting you take the bed to hopefully help in the recovery process and lessen the effects of tomorrow’s guaranteed hangover. 

Sleep doesn't come easy as Vex jolts up at every unconscious groan that escapes your lips as you turn in your sleep and pain popping up due to the movement. You dumbass, of course you wouldn’t win. Complete dim-wit, her dim-wit.

Keyleth

Looking on at the mess that you had managed to create in the kitchen of Greyskull Keep was exactly when her suspicions were confirmed. Suspicions may not be the right way to describe it, despite how much has flown over her head in the past Keyleth was nearly certain that you were as reckless as… well something that was big and reckless and maybe just a little bit idiotic. 

And the penny finally dropped in her mind.

She has often tried and failed to hold you back from a fight after someone (usually some pretentious elven dickbag) bad-mouths her in the street, resulting in a fight that can only be described as completely avoidable.

Keyleth supports as much of your weight as she can when you get knocked out, attempting to get you out of the fray as quickly as possible, but she can barely drag the two of you behind a crate in a side alley.

You can almost always count on coming back to consciousness while Keyleth is doing her best to stop the swelling on your eye and trying to make sure your not bleeding internally.

She is so goddamn concerned for you, please stop scaring her like this.

Pike

At this point Pike accepts that anytime you head out for a day of merrymaking (aka getting fucking black-out drunk in a tavern or two) she’s gonna be exhausted and have no spells left before you even get to sundown.

When you go unconscious, which is only inevitable, Pike always beelines towards you regardless of what is going on around her. Ignoring or brushing off any hits she may get in the process, she tanks through to get to you as quickly as she possibly can.

Even if she gets down to her last little cure wounds you can be guaranteed that she’ll save those spells for you if she can (much to the dismay of one Scanlan Shorthalt, his grumbles and annoyed mutters of ‘those should be my spells…’

As soon as you’re stabilised and safe-ish, you’re slung over her shoulder and Pike clangs her way through the destruction and chaos of the street-turned battlefield outside the pub, pushing past and far enough away so that you’re safe. Ignoring the shouts of Percy's pained yelps as his pepperbox explodes in his goddamn hands and Minxie doing her best to swipe a giant paw across someone’s torso, Pike always tries to get you outta there if she can.

Avoiding resurrections is of utmost importance when it comes to her sweetheart.

[queervegancryptid]

I realized recently that my partner is basically the only person who hears my voice as it naturally is, especially since being on testosterone. I had a slightly low voice for a woman before that, and I've been on T for most of the last ten years. (COVID and other things caused supply chain issues and issues with accessing care in general for me, so there were times when I'd be off it for a while.)

In the last few months, though, my voice suddenly dropped significantly and got a lot more bass-y. I started noticing it around the inauguration, maybe a few weeks prior.

I sound more like my dad or my brother than I ever thought I would. It's neat! And I feel like I have to hide it in most places.

I have to hide a lot. And I resent it, but I don't think I realized how much it's been hurting me, to carry the weight of hiding. My binder crapped out several months ago, and I haven't been able to replace it. My tits are small, but there's no passing without binding for me. When I trip up and use my real voice, if I'm particularly tired or too angry or overwhelmed to care, people look at me like I'm a monster. You can see the shift in their faces. So I do what I learned to do when I was younger: I pitch my voice higher and speak with "feminine" inflection. I hide in plain sight.

It sucks. I feel like I've all but gone back in the closet.

Shaving is something else I resent. I do it, and I would do it regardless, because I like how I look without facial and body hair, and because it's thick and coarse and doesn't feel good. Especially with the weather warming up. I live in Florida and was already a sweaty person before T, and I was also already a hairy person. T increased all that and added facial hair.

It did so much more than that, though. I'm not complaining.

So it's been a rough time. I feel like life is kicking me in the ass several times a day. So last night, for the first time in too long, my partner and I got shitfaced and listened to music and cried about shit.

And I belted out "Hallelujah" along with Leonard Cohen. Was it perfect? Fuck no. I hadn't heard it in a while, and I don't know when I last heard the live version my partner put on. But I let my actual voice do the work, and I started just feeling myself. For the first time in... I don't even know how long. My range has shifted to being close to his. I didn't even know I could do that.

Now, I'm a little bit hungover, because I don't do this regularly and because I didn't eat much yesterday. That's what I get. But it was oddly satisfying.

Sing out. Even if you're not a gifted singer. Even if you stumble over the words or can't hit all the notes you want to.

Now, I'm gonna go get ready to work a local Democratic club event while singing along to Hozier and Bastille. Because I can.

I wish I wasn't hungover. But last night needed to happen. I didn't know how much it needed to happen.

When you're trans, especially now, you have to walk around being aware of transphobia all the time. You can't shut it off. You can often find spaces and people that make you feel safer than others, but you're never not aware. With all the hiding I have to do just to get through the day, I now understand that I need to find gender euphoria where I can, and if I can't, I have to go out of my way to create it. This is my home, and even if I have to pretend out there, I can be real here. And hopefully that will be enough.

I can't continue to carry this weight otherwise. I can't do it.

[grumpy-triceratops]

If you want, here’s a free infodump card for the hero/villain thing you were talking about earlier.

I'm going to take a swing and assume this is about my oc stuff, if not, whoopsie. Either way, thank you so much for this ask I really appreciate it!! This may get long so I'll keep it under a read more.

So I never mentioned in my last post that the name of this story is Starfall Isle because that's the name of the location where the story takes place (side note: I did have to change it because this ask made me realize I should look it up and initially I was going to call it Starfall Isles but that's the name of a location in Flight Rising so I dropped the s). However while I have been thinking about this idea more since the last ask I still don't have a lot of stuff I feel concretely about. I would like it to have some kind of end goal but overall it would be more similar to superhero cartoons where it can be kind of episodic but a bigger plot can start to build up along the way.

The main character's name is currently Kailani Sparks and her hero name is Knight Star. As the name implies she has star related powers such as making stars she can walk and fly on (all Kirby-esque), as well as star-shaped blasts, transforming changes some aspects of her physical appearance as well such as her hair color and the way it glows (though to what degree/duration I have not decided). Her powers will also develop in various ways as the story goes on. Kailani can be a bit bumbling and ditzy but she has a really good heart and fast reflexes and she will fight you if she has to!

The character I talked about previously is now named Sapphira Reylin (though I am still wavering a bit on her last name) and her hero name is still Cross Rozen. I've started to define her powers a little bit more, she has her demonic form she can transform into, she also has fire and plant related powers (I'm not sure if I want her to be able to element bend them or if its just something she can generate and wield) and with her fire powers comes a bit of a fire resistance, she can also create swords/daggers.

One of the main villains is named Inevitable, she appears in amorphous forms to conceal her identity. Her powers involve her being able to change states of matter, I may have it also that she can change a target's weight and/or how gravity affects it but I don't know since I don't want her to be too overpowered. Personality wise she's very impish and loves toying with others especially Knight Star. Inevitable is also very influential often plotting and playing a hand in the villainous underground. I have some ideas on her civilian life but not many and they'd be secrets anyways since I don't want to give away everything on the chance I hopefully make this a comic or something one day!

Another prominent though less imposing villain is Marsupialia. Her powers allow her to take on the traits from any marsupial she can think of, she doesn't fully transform into the animals but it does influence the way her suit appears as well as give her the ears, tail and claws of the corresponding animal and possibly other traits unique to certain species. I almost forgot to mention that regardless of form her powers include: heightened smell and hearing, as well as her pouch ability. This power allows her to turn any bag into a pocket dimension however she can't put in anything that wouldn't otherwise fit into the bag's opening, so like she couldn't take a car but if it fits it shifts (into her pocket dimension). Marsupialia like Inevitable can be a bit cheeky and likes to mess around with Knight Star, but unlike Inevitable who has a cat and mouse dynamic with Knight Star, Marsupiala has more of a cat annoying another cat type relationship, speaking of: she also is more of a cat burglar type villain. I know a bit more about her civilian self but again, secret.

Then I just have variously fleshed out ideas for other heroes and villains mostly just ideas for powers I think would be interesting such as origami, scissors and plush related abilities. So yeah its a lot of just shifting vibes for these characters and this story but the more I think about it the more I'd like to try and solidify these ideas, so again I appreciate having an excuse to think about it!!

[duchess-fox]

2021 Dream Girl

I found @2pretty's 12 Month Dream Girl Guide and thought it was actually a very good and intentional way of setting goals and achieving them. While I won't be doing 12 months - I'll be doing it for the rest of 2021 instead!

Who is she?

Naturally beautiful goddess with her life put together, who piques curiosity from many. She is kind, feminine and smart. Her home is always clean, cozy and quiet. Her style is understated but you know it's expensive because everything fits her perfectly. Her outward appearance is always perfect and even if it isn't, it's imperfect in just the right way. The epitome of beauty and brains.

Qualities to Create Her

She takes care of her body - hair, skin, nails, fitness

She speaks multiple languages - Korean, Chinese, English

Her apartment is clean, everything has a place and purpose and is beautifully decorated

She is well dressed - shoes clean, clothes fitted, bag organised

She eats well - knows how to cook and prepare healthy and delicious meals

Her life is organised - she knows exactly when her bills are due, how much money she has, how she plans on spending the money.

She can sew and makes some of her own clothes.

She keeps her mind nourished.

June

She takes care of her body - hair, skin, nails, fitness. She eats well - knows how to cook and prepare healthy and delicious meals

Hair - Hair masks once a fortnight! Luckily Kmart does have some inexpensive hair masks as money will have to be tightly rationed the next few months.

Skin - Daily morning and night regimen is something I want to get into the habit of as I've been slacking in the past year (!). I also need to develop the habit of putting on sunscreen daily.

Nails - Hopefully my nail drill and the nail supplies I order come in the mail soon! The dust fan won't arrive until much later which is a shame but it's not essential. I will apply cuticle oil and hand cream morning and night, extra hand cream after I wash my hands.

Body - I'm going to start walking every day, 3 times a day. I don't like taking long walks and I've come to really enjoy a particular route. It's about 1.7km so if I walk it 3 times a day (morning, after lunch and after work) it should be 5km a day! I also want to develop a morning and night time stretching routine to increase my flexibility. I bought a scale that has an app so it can track my weight so I will be using that daily in the morning too.

I would also like to have a bigger library of healthy meals in my repertoire. I am a fan of BTS and the BTS meal just came out so I will be having a McDonald's every couple of days. The local McDonald's is 1.4km from my apartment. So walking there and back is almost 3km which will add up!

July

She speaks multiple languages She keeps her mind nourished.

I've been learning Korean on and off for almost 10 years now and the lack of discipline in my language learning is painfully obvious.

I will also try and be more observant of the Korean vlogs and TV shows I watch - they're great because they usually have subtitles in Korean so I can read those too.

I will continue studying Korean grammar through Talk to Me in Korean.

I also want to make use of the local library - I like reading from physical books sometimes but economies need to be taken and I don't want to invite too much clutter into my apartment. The library might not be as big as the big city libraries I'm accustomed to in my home city but there's always material to read regardless. I'll also make use of certain resources too if I have to in order to find some of the books I've been wanting to read and are a bit more obscure and unlikely to be found in my local library.

August

Her apartment is clean, everything has a place and purpose and is beautifully decorated

I have a few prints I'd like to hang from one of my favourite artists. I also want to print a big triptych artwork which is a subtle nod to my favourite music artist. I have plans to buy some nice big plants to brighten up the place too.

I'm also going to set up dedicated sewing and nail spaces because I really enjoy those things and they also require specialty equipment.

Since I just recently moved to my new apartment, I still have cardboard boxes that need to be taken to the recycling centre.

I will also make it a habit to ensure that all the dishes are done before I go to bed, my desks are free of rubbish. I will make my bed in the mornings and make sure my laundry is folded away neatly.

September

She can sew and makes some of her own clothes.

I want to focus on hobbies - namely sewing. I'd like to really challenge myself in sewing so I'd like to make one well fitted dress to wear on a night out. I bought the Rose Café dress pattern from Daria Dressmaking and I hope my body will be in a more satisfactory condition before I attempt to make this dress. I'd like to make this is a boucle fabric (which I'll probably source from AliExpress as it's much more affordable than buying $35/m fabric from the fancy fabric store). I want it to be perfectly fitted to my body so I will be custom fitting it. It won't be a short project so I want to dedicate the whole month to it.

October

She is well dressed - shoes clean, clothes fitted, bag organised

I want to make sure all my clothes, shoes and bags are in good condition - especially winter clothes that I won't be wearing for a while. Lint roller, wool comb, leather conditioner, waterproof spray - it's all coming out.

Things in my bag should be organised into pouches so that they're not flying everywhere either.

November

Her life is organised - she knows exactly when her bills are due, how much money she has, how she plans on spending the money.

I want my Google calendar to be full and colour coded. I want my bills to be on auto transfer and have my cash flow organised. I'd also like to have at least $5000 in emergency savings (since my recent move really drained my savings) and aim for $20000 eventually. I hope by then I'll be more disciplined and in control of my finances.

[suicidalslasher]

𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 - 𝒋𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒅.

the one where Jason is a jealous  dumbass,  that’s it -  that’s the plot.

WARNINGS: This is a Jason Dean fanfiction, therefore, you all know what you’re signing up for. I don’t really got to tell you, twice. 

  Possessive!Jason. Jealous!Jason. Female reader, reader’s pronouns are she/her. 

Slight mention and scene of choking but it’s not graphic. A hint of NSFW but it isn’t shown. Also there’s a few mentions of blood but it’s not a lot, either. I wanted to tag that nonetheless, too. Also, Jason actually shows emotions in this which is out of character but in MY world, Jason Dean is a simp to his girlfriend and would rather die than to live a day without her. 

I may add the smut scene later on, who knows?  Not me. This is my first imagine of Jason Dean so be nice to me or I’ll be like Ghostface and gut you like a fish (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*  

If you enjoyed this story, don’t hesitate to follow and or leave me a request, as they are open. If you also like my work and or have a dollar to  spare, as it will help me write and create more stories like this one, my ko-fi is here. 

Thank you and enjoy :)

White knuckles from clenching his fists too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, Jason bit back his words, knowing they'd be harsh and full of  poison.  He's fully aware of how much damage he'd likely cause if he spit out the words that were on his mind.  He was going to break, and he knew it wasn't going to take too long until he did so.   Yet, as the female continued to talk beside him as an attempt to grab his attention, the feelings only grew larger and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip, the metallic taste of blood trickling on the tip of his tongue.   Jason swallowed that anger when it was nothing but a fire-seed and he had forgotten to drink something cold right after, in an effort to calm himself down;   therefore, it grew in his stomach until it came out hotter than any dragon breath.... all those negative emotions that swam in his veins  and crept in the pit of his stomach exploded and all the feelings he desperately was trying to hold back came burning on the one person he loved the most, his girlfriend, (Y/N). His face was red with suppressed rage and when (Y/N)  set her finger on his shoulder, he swung around and mentally snapped, his nostrils flared  and his pupils were blown and dilated  as he snarled like an  out of control beast.  "I hate him more than I do the Heathers," spat Jason,  as he pushes his girlfriend up against the wall, the framed photograph that hung there now remained at the bottom of their feet, shattered into hundreds of pieces.   "I don't like you hanging out with him." Jason growled, his fingers curling around (Y/N)'s throat, feeling her pulse begin to quicken  as he presses his weight down onto the palm of his hand.  "Do you know how much it hurts to see you look at someone else? To see you smile at someone else? It makes me feel sick.”     "Jason... Let go of me. Let's talk. Please? You don't even know him... if you'll let me speak and tell you-"  "You love him, don't you?" Jason hisses, the sentence feeling like a slap to (Y/N)'s face as he throws out this statement.... it was a lie, that's what it was and (Y/N) desperately was trying to tell him how wrong he was but he just wouldn't listen, the arrogant  son of a bitch never listens!    "You love him more than you do me."  Before either teen realizes it, Jason is letting go of (Y/N)'s throat only for him to raise his hand up  into a fist and he's punching the only other framed photograph that was beside her, the glass shattering behind his knuckles. (Y/N) screams in horror and although she's pissed off, she - obviously - still cares about her boyfriend.  "Jason!" (Y/N) yelps, tears falling down her cheeks as she rushes to her boyfriend's side, examining his hand which was now dripping with crimson, a few drops of red landing on the now broken picture frame and the wooden floor beneath their feet. "C'mon, I've got a first aid kit around here, somewhere-" "You love him." Jason repeats, ignoring the fact she was trying to help him.  He pulls his hand back, dropping his arm by his side, not  even caring about the way the blood was falling from his knuckles and staining both his pants and shirt. The anger and venom that once coated his words were now replaced with a hint of sadness and heartbreak.  She's never seen him this upset before.... regardless, if he'd just calm down, she could explain.  "Jason, baby-" His voice broke as he looked up at (Y/N), sad eyes meeting with her confused but angry gaze. On top of those, she was sad, too.   "Go then. Go to him, if you prefer to spend your day with him rather than your own boyfriend. You don't care about me, I'm not sure you ever did."  (Y/N) sighed, shaking her head as a few more tears spill past her cheeks. "Fine. If you won't let me talk and tell you my side of the story, I'm leaving. If that's what you think and if you truly think I don't give a fuck about you, I'm gone." (Y/N) mutters, letting go of his hand as she walks back over to the door, grabbing her keys and wallet before storming out the door, slamming the door shut as she leaves.

A week passes. 

Another week following behind that.  

(Y/N) didn't bother to call or show up.

He really fucked things up, didn't he? 

Jason wasn't huge on  showcasing his feelings and putting them out on display for people to see. The only emotion he was so used to showing was anger and madness. Nothing but chaos was built and stored away in Jason Dean's body, too.  All three traits made him who he was.  People may not like him because of his temper and all the flaws he had but it was him, and he didn't plan on changing for anybody.  Expect.... of course, (Y/N). As he sat alone in his bedroom, he felt depressed. He never cried, either.  Couldn't tell you the last time he ever did cry. Did he even cry as a baby? Jason wasn't sure, nor could he tell you.  

But.... Jason cried. For the first time in forever, he broke down and cried. Couldn't help himself.  By the end of the night, there were no tears left to cry. He had run dry. His body couldn't form any more tears.   Feeling both mentally and physically drained, Jason reached over and grabbed his phone off of the night stand, dialing the one number he actually had memorized.  All he got was her voicemail.   "This is (Y/N). I can't answer the phone at the moment but  I will get back to you as soon as I can! Bye!"  Jason groaned and he was half-tempted to throw the phone out of his window but he decided against it as he left a voicemail, regardless. He wanted (Y/N) to know he was sorry. 

He wanted (Y/N) to know that despite their arguments (which weren't constant but when they did fight, it was mainly due to Jason's behavior rather than her own) he loves her.  

 (Y/N) coming into his life was the only good thing the world had offered and gave him. He wasn't going to give her up. Not that easily, anyways.  "Hey." He had forgotten he was leaving a voicemail, having zoned out for a second, the beep brought him back out of his thoughts.  "It's me. Uh.... Jason.... your boyfriend? I hope so, anyway, still.... But, yeah, it's Jason.... Jason Dean.... ha, uh.... you knew that.

  Listen, I'm sorry for everything,  (Y/N).  I'm sorry for having that temper tantrum and taking out my frustration and jealousy on you. I'm not good at this type of stuff, not so great with showing my emotions in person either, so....

 I'll talk here,  hopefully the message goes all the way through. I don't want to say this in person, again, I'm not good at the whole unraveling my feelings, especially not face to face.

 But... (Y/N), baby, you're the best thing that's ever been mine. You're my darlin', my girl, and I got jealous because I was scared, okay? 

I was scared of losing you. And I'm telling you this because it's been awhile now and I haven't seen you around or heard from you in awhile. Therefore, I may have already lost you but.... I love you, (Y/N)... and I'm sorry, okay? 

Thought you'd never hear me say that, huh? Me, apologizing? That's like... once in a blue moon. Hah.....  

But, uh... well, it's true. I'm sorry and I, Jason Dean, love you, (Y/N) (L/N). And I hope that you still love me too."   With that, Jason ends the call, hanging the phone back up on the table as he falls back onto the bed. He didn't - doesn't - know what to do if he didn't have (Y/N) by his side.   Trying to ignore these thoughts and place his attention elsewhere, he decides he needs to focus on sleeping. His body was exhausted after all that crying, plus the punch to the picture frame was still making his hand ache and throb, despite it being a few weeks since he had done it. 

He had one hell of a nasty bruise, too. He was sure it wouldn't look so ugly and scarred if he  had listened to (Y/N) and taken her up on that offer when she suggested the first aid kit...  Before he knows it, he's drifting off into a deep slumber, naturally bringing a pillow into his chest, tucking it underneath his arm as he falls asleep.   

Faint whispers of (Y/N)'s name spills pass his lips as he sleeps. He'd rather be cuddling her than a pillow but he'll take what he can get. He just hopes she'll accept his apology.  

(Y/N) gets home a little after midnight, sighing heavily and tiredly as she kicks off her shoes and strips out of her jacket, hanging the coat up first before setting her shoes under the rack. She had just finished unpacking and helping her cousin move things in his new apartment and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. 

 In the corner of her eye, however, she notices her answering machine is flashing red, letting her know someone had left a voicemail.  She walks over and clicks on the button, expecting it to be for  her parents but instead she's met with a shocking fate - it was Jason.  

Hearing his voice, so weak and vulnerable, brought tears to her eyes and she bit back a sob. Especially when he apologized, that was new. 

They've said those three words to each other before, of course, but it was hearing how sad he sounded that let her know he truly did love her, despite everything they've been through and all the silly arguments they've shared over the past few months; they loved each other. 

 And nothing - nobody - could ever stand in the way of that.   Jason was still a huge dumbass, however. 

And as she grabs her jacket, sliding the thick layer of clothing around herself and dips her feet into her boots, she's quick to go and tell him that, too.  

She loves him, yes, but she needs to let him know he was a  huge fucking idiot. 

Jason, for the most post, was sleeping peacefully until he heard a loud crash coming from downstairs, along with a string of curse words. 

  He was quick to get up, throwing the blanket and pillow aside as he opened his bedroom door and creeps down the hallway, wondering who the hell was in his living room.   

He was met with.... well, not a burglar  neither his father as he would have guessed the next outcome to be but rather his girlfriend.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" He asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands as he tried to shake off the remaining sleep that had taken over him not even a few hours ago. 

"I came here to scare you, obviously." She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she scrambles up and off of the floor, brushing her knees and arms from the fall she had taken.  "Your door was locked, couldn't find the extra key anywhere so I snuck in through the window and-"

"And... you're bleeding." Jason said, gesturing to the tiny gash on her arm.   "C'mon, I've got a first aid kit around here somewhere." He mocks, giving her a playful smile as he quoted the words she had said to him the day they got into that fight. 

 (Y/N) said nothing but she follows when Jason offers his hand out to her, anyway.   He was surprised when he did find the small box up in a cabinet.   

"It's fine. I'm fine. Nothing  a bandage won't fix, right?" 

"(Y/N). Why are you here? You never did answer me." Jason said, getting out the tiny box of band-aids, ripping one open as he presses the item down onto her arm. She was right, it wasn't a big cut, a few drops of blood, sure, but it wasn't one that'd get infected.  

"I got your voice message." She said with a shrug of her shoulders. "And I came to talk to you about it."

He wasn't sure whether or not that was a good or bad thing.

 "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You're a dumbass." 

Oh. 

 It was bad. 

He felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He really let his jealousy get the best of him and now he was going to lose the one good thing he had in his life. 

"I love you but you didn't let me speak," She continued.  "That guy you saw... first of all, you have no right to judge him or say you hate him when you have no idea who he is. That dude I was seen with was my cousin, who, may I add, is gay.” 

“I’ve been helping him move which is why you saw me in town with him. We were getting a few supplies and picking up his furniture.” She continues.

“You got jealous over a guy who is far from being attracted to  females. And you know... he's related to me as well, so, that also plays a huge part in it. And if you didn't notice either, the picture you broke was actually a portrait of my family and his together at a family reunion. Of course, you didn't see that, though or probably even noticed but.... yeah, you're a dumbass. I love you, J.D, but you're an idiot for thinking I'd ever love someone more than I love you." 

Jason says nothing, he feels embarrassed, ashamed, but overall; he feels happy, knowing she still loves him, even if he was a total moron.  "I'm sorry, baby, I got jealous and I shouldn't jump so quickly to conclusions  and-"

"And you need to make up for it." She said, pressing her chest up against his, resting her hand on the palm of his cheek, brushing a few stray hairs out from his face as she gives him a seductive look. "And how.... exactly, are you going to make up for it, baby?" She purred. 

"I think I've an idea." He said with a smirk.

"Oh, yeah? While you're at it, can you choke me like you did, too?" 

"I'll do more than just choke you with my hand, darling." 

"To be suffocated and to choke on either your cock and hand would be a blessing, my dear." 

"Then let's go upstairs, shall we?"

(Y/N) smiled and took Jason's hand with her own, giggling as if she wasn't just talking about getting choked by her boyfriend, as if she was some saint rather than a sinner. Fuck... Jason loves how dirty she was. "We shall." He replies, nearly dragging her up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

"Going to show you how much I love you, going to treat you so good, so well, baby girl... missed you so much, love you so much..." 

[my-writings-and-musings]

I was wondering if you could do something with ambulon, possibly fluff? Love the imagines btw

Thank you for giving me an excuse to love on my favorite underappreciated boy. Also, thank you, I love all the inspiration!

The chipping paint was a sore point for Ambulon, like so many other things about himself, but unlike all his other unfortunate traits it was made so much worse by the simple fact that it was impossible to hide. Having an embarrassing altmode, the true reason for his name, even his past as a Decepticon... he could cover all that up no problem. But the constantly chipping paint job? No shielding that from anyone close enough to simply see him...

It was made worse by how often bots tried to offer tips; use a primer, pay for a proper redo, try some new sealant... He knows they mean well, but none of them know what they're talking about, not really. If it was that easy, did they really think he wouldn't have fixed it by now? The Decepticon purple paint underneath was just as fragmented as the medic coded red and white on top, and that wasn't going to be fixed by anything simple.

The truth was "Flaky Paint Syndrome" could have many causes despite manifesting as a single, embarrassing result, and while most bots had poor application or easily irritated mesh to blame, his problem was rooted in something far less corporeal.

He was anxious. Every hour of every day, something had him on edge, and the constant strain on his nerves resulted in chips of paint cracking away from his always agitated frame. It was lucky really, most bots as unsettled as he was developed spark static or overheated and warped joints, his constant buzz of disquiet just made him look somewhat sloppy. Such a personality probably made his occupation seem like a bad choice, but he was content to endure the struggle for the satisfaction of saving lives, and now that he was on the relatively stable Lost Light he was managing better than he had in a long time. Thus, he hadn't had any plans on changing his status quo anytime soon.

Until you had showed up.

He hadn't even met a human before you'd joined the crew, but even if he had, he never could have expected that you'd get tangled up in his life the way you did. Something about you had just... connected with him. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't make fun of him, either for his altmode or his appearance, and also hadn't judged him for his past... Not even the reason for his silly name had made you laugh! He just liked spending time with you, even if it was to do nothing in particular.

As a result of these feelings, a desire to impress you had formed, and he'd actually made an effort to keep up with his looks for a change. Granted, that meant daily repaints completely unaided and in secret, all in his room where he twisted and turned in a ridiculous effort to look good for the person who probably only saw him as a friend. Logic didn't play much of a role in feelings, however.

Of course, it was just his luck you'd walked in on him at this most embarrassing time for the kind of friendly visit he ordinarily would have been thrilled about.

The cry of surprise that had escaped him when the doors whooshed open was impressively high pitched for a bot of his size, but you'd probably been more focused on the paint his startled jump had sent spattering in all directions, though none of it had flown far enough to hit you by some miracle.

"Ambulon, are you okay?!" You shouted in alarm, seeing the flash of red but not his paintbrush and immediately thinking of blood. Though you knew bots bled glowing pink, the instinct to offer aid at the first impulse was just too hard to ignore. Without hesitation, you hurried to get to his side, only growing more concerned as he hid his hand behind his back. Even if this wasn't how you'd wanted your visit to go you cared far too much about the medic to be concerned about such petty things. "What's wrong? Where are you hurt?"

"Who? Me? Hurt?" He rushes in ongoing panic, backing up against a desk to put as much space between you and him as possible. Despite looking ridiculous backing away from someone as small as you, all he can think to do is hide his paintbrush in an effort to save his dignity. At least, what's left of his dignity as he sputters through an excuse made up on the spot. "I'm just, uh... You know..."

Painting a landscape? Applying color to his hab suite? Decorating his medical supplies!?

"Are you painting something?" You asked, moving your small body to catch a glimpse of a bot sized paintbrush in the hand he hadn't done a good enough job of hiding. You figuring out the problem actually seemed to make him panic more, and he twisted again to hide the offending object behind his back, looking down at you as if you'd just stumbled upon him burying a body.

"Of course not!" He said in a rush, lie falling apart when the thick application of bright red he'd applied to his chest dripped downwards from the force of his rapid twisting around. Cringing, he avoided your eyes like a criminal. It would be bad enough if you simply knew about his troubles in any level of detail, but to have personally seen his juvenile and ridiculous efforts to cover up his humiliating condition... Would it be too much to ask that he dissapear at this very moment?

"Ambulon, are you okay?"

Nope, he's not, he won't be ever again but it's very nice that you thought to ask-

"Seriously, look at me."

You're firm but not at all angry as you issue the command, starting to put the pieces together in a way that makes some sense. The medic has had paint troubles more or less his entire life, as you've heard, but they had started to dissapear right about when you showed up. Though you hadn't pried, it had been logical to assume he'd been fixing himself up. Regardless of the accuracy of your guess, however, you know that this bot needs help. As much as you care for him, you simply can't let him suffer needlessly. No matter how often he switches between seeking you out and avoiding you...

"I'm... I'm fine, I promise." He mumbles, feeling like a pitiful failure for not even thinking to lock his door. There's so much to be embarrassed by he doesn't even know where to begin being mortified, but it's obvious the fallout will be a spiral into further humiliation, so he still wants to stall. You'll laugh when you hear he's been fixing himself up in a ridiculous attempt to impress you, because of course it's absurd, and he'll never be able to show his face again...

"Why are you embarrassed about some paint? I figured bots touched themselves up every now and then." You said innocently, baffled as to why he'd react in such a way. Rodimus bragged about redoing his colors all the time, so you'd figured there were no issues in doing so. Was there some other reason this could be considered embarrassing? The only possible explanation required you to go on a bit of a limb, but for his sake you decided to chance it, gulping once before you hesitantly spoke up. "Did you do this for me? Have you been redoing the colors since I got here?"

Ambulon flinched, and you realized you'd hit the nail on the head.

"I'm sorry-"

"For what?" You asked incredulously, head swimming with emotions clustering to be felt first. There was surprise, giddy delight, bashfulness, and even confoundment at the idea you could be in this situation. A part of you wanted to celebrate, but there was still far too much to sort through at the moment. His look of hopelessness exemplified the problem.

"For being ridiculous! Look at me! Pretending if I touch up some rough patches, it'll actually do anything? Ha!" He said, giving voice to the unpleasant uncertainty that lurked just below the surface. Drowning in his insecurity, he frowned hard, the absurdity of what he'd been trying to do all but slapping him in the face. Forget the species difference, you were a vibrant and charming individual who deserved far better than he. What had he even been trying to do? The answer came out of him as he sunk down to the ground and let the brush fall, hugging his knees as the weight of it all pulled him down. "I wanted so badly to look good for you, I lost track of common sense..."

"But Ambulon-"

Unable to hear you, he kept right on going, lost in his own little fog of shame. "You weren't supposed to know... Nobody was supposed to know... But I blew it-"

"Ambulon!"

You couldn't take it any more. The heartbreaking sight of the bot you thought was so delightful tearing himself apart was too much. Ignoring any common sense, you put yourself out for his sake, opening up your heart in the hope that your own vulnerabilities might help him feel better. A tender hand on his own preceded a gentle expression of reasurance as you looked into his optics.

"I'm flattered you want to look your best for me, really. But it's not necessary." You said, suddenly aware that your heart was hammering as you prepared to confess. It was probably about time you cut to the chase, after spending these months bobbing along in uncertainty, but that didn't make it any less scary to be so open. Hopefully it would all end well... "I think you look fine just how you are."

Ambulon felt his processor go blank, and all that he could do was fall back on his usual attitude with a surprised retort. "But I'm a mess!"

You laughed, but not in the way he'd feared. It was a good natured, loving, laughing with him and not at him kind of sound. "I don't care about some paint chips now and then, you goof. Why do you think I'm here?" All of a sudden your fear seemed to be turning into confidence, the anxieties you'd created for yourself melting away as the truth came out. Seeing a towering alien laid low by your simple feelings definitely made it much easier to express them. "I wanted to see you, purple and red and all, because I like you."

Something clicked inside of him upon hearing those words. So much shame and fear dissolved in what felt like an instant, his optics pushing up with his cheeks as he smiled the biggest and happiest smile he could, optics brightening the whole while. It was what he'd wanted more than anything but feared he'd never receive. Unfurling his legs, he leaned down just a tad to get closer. Heedless to everything about himself that had bothered him so much, he spoke softly in return.

"I really like you too."

"I know." You replied softly, looking to the brush that had fallen to the floor and the paint still drying on his frame as an idea hatched in your head. The two of you had a lot to talk about, it seemed, and you had the perfect way to pass the time while doing so. "Now, how about I help you finish up? Don't want all this to go to waste."

Realizing what you were suggesting, he picked up a much smaller paintbrush and handed it to you, still smiling as he helped you onto his desk where the paints laid out for use.

"I'd like that."

[amysubmits]

In your post "Hard Softening", why had you been giving CD "looks" / not feeling submissive in the first place? Because he could not spank you for too long? I thought you don't get "routine" maintenance, but were you unable to feel his dominance (or is it pain?) due to the quiet thing? I guess the related question is what is wrong with not feeling submissive? Does it make you feel unsettled or just wrong? Maybe I am wrong and you do find you need regular maintenance, just not scheduled?

This is fun brain food. Apologies in advance for the book i’m about to type. :)

I don’t think needing maintenance is always about not feeling our D/s. It definitely can be. If I weren’t feeling our D/s that likely would make me require maintenance of some sort. But I also sometimes feel our D/s but still need a role-reminder. Which is what happened recently. 

I guess when I really think about what needing maintenance means to me...it’s basically that my ability to feel submissive and to a lesser degree, to be submissive, requires certain things. 

As a D/s community we tend to think of maintenance as always being spankings and I don’t see it that way. I think maintenance is done through our dynamic itself, for example. Part of why we have rules and protocol and such is to help maintain our dynamic. Ideally, our dynamic itself keeps me from getting ‘off track’ by regularly giving me what I need in order to feel and act submissive, and ideally it also gives CD what he needs in order to feel and act dominant.  It’s also about us both feeling vulnerable enough to maintain our emotional intimacy at the level we crave. Our dynamic suffers if either of us get guarded. I don’t mean to suggest that without rules and such that I’d not be submissive. To some degree, I would be submissive regardless of whether we had rules and such or not. But the level of submission that we aim for is one where I can be obedient to most anything he asks of me, where I can serve him daily, where I can let him make decisions for me and for our relationship with relative ease, where I feel fulfilled and happy about it, too - and that level of submission requires more maintenance vs if we weren’t intentionally trying to have me be submissive. Like before we started DD, I was still submissive in that I would defer things to him when I felt like it, which was often on small things like what ot have for diner or what movie to watch. But I didn’t serve him or agree to obey him or let him boss me around or those sorts of things. So now that I have committed to letting him lead, I have to access being submissive more often and in different ways, and that requires more maintenance and we mostly try to maintain my submission by creating a dynamic that suits my needs. Additionally, there are things we just normally instinctively do that feed into our D/s that aren’t specific rules or agreements. He’ll just naturally do other things that make me feel submissive too, and those things help maintain us, too. I hope the same is true on his side, I hope some of the things I do beyond just following the rules help feed his dominance. 

However, there is no perfect formula for what our dynamic can make it so that we never get ‘off track’ because even if our dynamic stays perfectly the same, the things we’re going through in life are constantly impacting our needs, or headspace, our stress level, our mental health, etc. We sort of use our rules and such to create a sense of structure that hopefully helps maintain most of the time, but then we still have to keep an eye on how we’re doing to do “extra” things as needed.  I think more often than anything else, it’s mental health or stress things that make us guarded and that require us to do “extra” stuff to get back on track

And part of what I was referencing in that post was that even when something “extra” is needed, it doesn’t have to be spanking - spanking is sort of the hard way to soften me. It’s probably more common that he softens me with softness. Often when I get hardened it’s because I’m holding in emotional stuff that I should be sharing with him. So him getting me to open up and share my anxieties or whatever else with him is basically a form of maintenance for us. Sometimes i’ll be guarded and then he gets me to open up and I cry and then a weight is off my shoulders and I feel extremely close to him and that resets my ability to feel and act more submissive again. Or in the past when he was working too much, sometimes just taking a few hours to just spend time together was maintenance because what I needed most was just his undivided attention. And these things aren’t one-sided, because what they all really get to is a sense of intimacy. So if he gets a bit guarded due to his own stress, that can make us feel ‘off’ until he opens up to me, too. 

To go back to your specific questions...

Why wasn’t I feel submissive in the first place? Basically stress or mental health stuff. We had something happen a week or so prior that sort of threw me off. Mabe others are different, but I think getting off track with feeling submissive is just normal. We try to minimize how often it happens, but I think setting a goal of it never happening would be unrealistic. 

The stressful thing wasn’t anything between CD or I, it was just a curveball that life threw at us. We had already talked about it, which usually would soften me - and talking definitely did make me feel better. And the problem was resolved, and was resolved in a way I was really happy with, even, but for some reason I just stayed ‘off’. I guess it was probably more than just that 1 thing, as my overall stress and mental health are sort of compounded issues over the last few years, things have been consistently difficult. We had a lot of tough stuff going on even before the pandemic. So when something challenging happens, it’s never really just that 1 thing. It’s always that one new thing stacked on top of other things. I imagine most people feel that way these days, haha. 

Anyway. I basically was in a funk and wanted to be lazy and just do what I felt like doing and nothing else and he knew that wasn’t a good idea. In some cases, if I’m feeling ‘off’, him maintaining his expectations of me helps, but for some reason it didn’t help this time. The looks I gave him were mostly in response to him asking me to do things. I’d do what he asked but I was feeling prickly about it. So I guess maybe that’s why a spanking was “needed”. Ordinarily, if I’m guarded, him getting me to open up and/or giving me his dominance through leadership or whatever, would help me to feel submisise and help me feel better and get me back on track. Where this time I was just in a certain type of funk where those things weren’t helping. I was too hardened to be softened with his attention, presence, guidance. We had to sort of break through the wall the hard way. 

What is wrong with not feeling submissive? Does it feel unsettling or just wrong? 

I don’t think you meant it this way, but just for clarity, if I say that it feels bad or wrong to not feel submissive, I don’t mean bad/wrong in a “naughty” or “bad behavior” type of a way.  We don’t see it as me being bad when I don’t feel submissive. 

Not feeling submissive doesn’t usually feel unsettling, it’s just not ideal. 

For me, feeling submissive is a very good feeling. It’s warm, it’s cozy, it’s feeling useful and needed and valued and cherished, among other good things, all wrapped into one. So I want to feel it as regularly as I can But also, it assists with CD feeling dominant, and with our dynamic flowing well. When I don’t feel submissive, I can still act submissive, but it’s not as free-flowing. There’s a tiny it of tension or friction in the submission - and my submission doesn’t feel as good to CD if i’m more just going through the motions and not feeling it. And if my submission doesn’t feel as good to him, then that impacts our dynamic and it just becomes a chain reaction type of a thing. And when the opposite is true, when I feel really good about my submission, that feeds his dominance, which then come back around to feeding our dynamic and feeding me, and it’s this positive chain reaction. So basically, we try to maintain me feeling submissive and CD feeling dominant because they feel good to us so we just like it, but also because if either of us gets ‘off’ then it ends up having an impact on our dynamic and on each other. 

[a3day]

#GMPD: Jessi (제시)

Feel how you want about it, the fact remains that she has some bonafide hit moments. I never thought I’d explore this so soon in Great Moments in Production & Delivery (GMPD) but it feels like now’s the right time. First, the Disclaimer.

An Album a Day is my exploration into the Korean music scene. This podcast and blog will cover mainstream, indie and some underground artists within the scene and provide both factual and opinionated commentary. The biggest benefit to sharing my thoughts this way is that it will hopefully expose you to more great music and exploration of your own.

Korean American music artist Jessica Ho (Korean: 호현주 [Ho Hyun-joo]) has been in the game since 2005 and her story is one of triumph, setbacks, and hiccups. The New York-born, New Jersey-raised singer, rapper, and songwriter made her debut as a solo artist who then moved into Korean hip-hop trio Lucky J. She made her final appearance with the group in 2014 and then prepared for more solo work. More specifically, her grit and American charisma was personified on the debut season of Unpretty Rapstar (2015) and set her as the second-place winner by audience vote. Since then, the artist I affectionately and teasingly refer to as Capital P (both for the c*nt power and for her shape pre-butt enhancement [I’m top heavy asl too so I know the vibes on being P-shaped lol]) has developed an entertaining catalog.

We’re not talking video content, we aren’t talking aesthetic. We’re not even talking my most favorite track by her of all time (GRAY’s production means I’m already biased sooo yeah). 

This is about the music. In no particular order, here we go.

Who Dat B (2020)

First up is this bop, where the sound engineer put a whole grown foot in the production of the first verse. From 0:14 to a few milliseconds into 0:35, autotune and spatial filters set a mood. She sits on the track, something that is common with Jessi’s delivery, but her trademark ad lib creeps in so resolutely for damn near 3 seconds and it is glorious. The crossover of the reverb and echo effects within 0:32 to 0:35 are a whole chef’s kiss moment.

Cold Blooded teaser (2021)

Laugh if you want to. Laugh if ya want. But the teaser for her most recent 2021 comeback sticks. This isn’t some magical production moment, but it’s a magical choice. Lemme explain. What we hear in the M/V teaser is what was played on set while filming the video. This is the echoey, spatial experience of the music blasting over loud speakers to help everyone stay on count as the women of Street Woman Fighter/스트릿 우먼 파이터 (SWF) do what needs to be done with this choreography. All the same, it creates that fun filter moment that makes you feel like you're standing outside the club or a party you’re hoping to get in to. Think about it! The bass is knocking, the audio’s a bit muffled, and then Jessi’s husky “Huh” comes through with just enough clarity to make you wish you were inside. That’s a great choice, baby.

Gucci (2017)

The husky voice was the meat and potatoes on this track. There’s nothing super-demanding from the music -- it’s fun and structured to let her thrive -- but Jessi sells the hell out of this track. She was in her bag and her voice was deep as hell. You see a platinum blonde woman atop some luggage in a pink cute outfit, and then she comes and drops the octaves on you immediately like a stack of weights. The music drops out for her natural baseline to milk the punch for all its worth. And she’s doin’ the thing, talkin’ mad shit right out the gate within the first few words. Regardless of comprehension, you’re bobbing along to the beat without realizing that you’re bopping to her cadence and tone. The instrumental to this song is simple as hell. You check it and you find yourself enjoying it because of the mere thought of her delivery. That’s a damn win.

염따(YUMDDA) - 9ucci REMIX (2021)

Jessi shines regularly as the sole female on a ratchet track. Fast forwarding to 1:37 (to avoid distractions) and Jessi’s perched on a custom wrapped whip and she’s going in. Her tone is right, she’s playful and flagrant, and took the O-ren Ishii approach in making sure listeners know she’s not playing because hers is the only all-English verse on this Hangul track.

The 2018 summer love track “Down” is a positive showcase of her singing chops. She won’t be blowing socks off with her vocals but you hear control and a truly unique voice amongst a scene that has a lot of similarities for perceived-success’s sake. And there’s this honorable mention for the musicality being so far left for her (and this damn commercial at 1:06 that I spent that whole summer going, “Sheesh! SHEESH!” at because she was just rising in SoKo and her tone and confident strut was everything to me! This is when I started calling her Capital P lolol) but I believe those interested in checking out more of her work have a good jump-off from this. Bye y’all.

[darkestdawnhq]

MIKHAIL VULCHANOV is a 27 year old PUREBLOOD, a former DURMSTRANG STUDENT, and a HERBOLOGIST SPECIALISING IN POISONS AND ANTIDOTES  who is a CIVILIAN and uses HE/HIM pronouns. They are categorized as CODE TWO. They are currently CLOSED.

Plants growing in every corner of your home | Books piled up everywhere | Not understanding the absurd blood purity ideals of these foreigners | Talking about books all night long | Making friends with everyone, regardless of alliance | The smell of cinnamon and mint | Gentle muscular giant with a poet’s soul 

HISTORY.

TW:  parental death.

A cold wind blew through the snow packed streets of the small village he was born in.  Just miles away from the heart of Moscow, Mikhail Vulchanov’s hometown simultaneously offered the peace of the countryside and the opportunity found only in the city.  Mikha was born with unmatched kindness and unyielding curiosity.  Everyone who managed to cross his path found something in Mikha, whether it was a friend, a comfort, or just knowledge depending on the encounter.  His mother called him a gentle giant, and his father called him soft in a stern voice with a glint of affection in his eyes -- but neither of those things sounded quite right.  He was just Mikha.

It was in the weeks after his father’s unexpected death that Mikha first came to the conclusion that he was different.  He was fed the same platitudes, the same lines, that all kids were given in the midst of their first experience with death.  He didn’t want to leave.  He’s not coming back.  He loved you very much.   Mikhail knew all of those things, and yet, he still didn’t understand.  So he asked why and he questioned and he watched the discomfort and frustration grow on the faces of the adults in his life.  Intermixed with the weight heavy loss and the confusion was a new understanding.  Questions made people uncomfortable, sometimes you were meant to just say okay and continue on with a lack of understanding; but Mikhail didn’t plan on doing that.  He wanted to know everything.

After his father’s death his mother leaned heavily on her circle, especially the Dolohovs.  He had met Antonin long before that, the two boys having been pushed to play together as toddlers, something that had never taken all that much prompting -- but it felt as though their friendship deepened in those painful months after his father’s death.  It was a blur now, the sharp edges dulled by time and grief, but he knew that he came out of that time with a friend as good as a brother.  Really, he was the only family Mikha had beyond his grieving mother.  It was why he was so devastated when Antonin left Durmstrang for Hogwarts.  He wasn’t just losing a best friend, he was losing his brother, the only one that he had ever had.  But he knew that it wasn’t the end, that they’d always be in each other’s lives, even if it had to look a bit different.  And as things changed, quickly he realized he wasn’t as alone as he thought he might be.  His penchant for gathering knowledge made him an engaged listener, which would lead him to many genuine friendships; friendships that taught him lessons about life, love, and himself.  He walked through life, learning from all he came across, and scattering the seeds of friendship wherever he went.  He found himself leaving a piece of his heart behind every step of the way.

Years passed, friends and lovers had come and gone, and yet, he never forgot about the Dolohovs; a special place in his closet was dedicated to the letters he had shared with Antonin, full of details of his new home and the political tension and subsequent war.  For every letter Mikha had responded, at least once but sometimes two or three times, full of enthusiastic questions about Antonin's life and stories from their home.  So, when he was offered a research position in the United Kingdom he jumped at the opportunity, thrilled to learn from and explore a new place, a place his friends knew so well.

The United Kingdom was confusing.  The pride, superiority, and truthfully, the prejudice, that he saw in the hearts of his new co-workers and friends made little sense to him -- biologically, there was little that separated the magical from the muggle.  And, honestly, wasn’t it more impressive that the magical genes, seemingly, spontaneous appeared in the Muggleborns?  In equal measure, why fight it?  The codes were silly, but they didn’t seem to matter all that much in the end.  He knew it would be far wiser to keep his mouth shut, to put his head down and get his work done, returning to Russia when his contract was up -- but he had never been very good at that; despite knowing what the best course of action was, he took the opposite path, extending his position indefinitely and speaking up when he felt it necessary.  If something didn't make sense he said so.  If he saw someone, no matter their code or alliance, being treated unfairly he would do what he could to step in and help.  There was too much to learn and see here, too many people to connect and reconnect with. There was too much work to be done in this beautiful country so full of foolish, confused people.  How could he leave now?

And so he let his flat go and purchased a small house on the outskirts of London, hovering between the magical and muggle worlds (because no one was going to tell him that the muggles hadn’t far surpassed those with magic in some disciplines.  He wasn’t going to give up easy access to all of that, to the resources and knowledge, just because of the pride of others).  He filled it to the brim with plants and his favorite books, every inch of counter space full of chipped pots and worn paperbacks.  Soft blankets and cozy cushions were piled on the couch and his spare bed.  Mismatched teacups spilled from his cabinets.  All of this worked together to, hopefully, create a place where all of his new friends, on all sides of this silly conflict, could find a safe space.  Home was still in Russia, but this could be something else, for him and for the people who cared about.

CONNECTIONS.

ANONTIN DOLOHOV: Best Friend. Of course everyone knew of the Dolohov’s involvement in the criminal underground of the Moscow society. Still, that didn’t stop Mikha’s mother from being friends with Antonin’s. The two babes were raised together and a friendship soon formed between the two. They attended Durmstrang together at first before Antonin’s father sent him to the English school. This distance couldn’t end their friendship though, and it only grew stronger over the years. Even when his friend was in the middle of some war over policies in the foreign land, he still kept in touch with his best friend. When the chance came to move to Antonin’s new home, Mikha took the chance and has been happy since growing near to him once more.

WENDY SLINKHARD: Friend With Benefits. When Mikha first met Wendy, she was browsing the books at Flourish and Blotts and he could not resist the pretty witch. He started flirting with her in his own charming manner with pick up lines he was trying in English. They spent all evening together, talking about books, herbology and more. When she went home with him that night, he was already enamored with the intelligent and pretty witch. When he found out later she was the daughter of William Slinkhard, one of his favorite authors, he was even more enamored. She made it clear she didn’t want anything serious so they started to fall into a friends with benefits relationship and both couldn’t be happier with it.

ASLAN SHAFIQ: New Friend. True to his nerdy nature, Mikha is never happier than when he’s talking about books or herbology with another. After trying to find some rare books in Russian in this strange country, he crossed paths with Aslan. After helping him to one of the books on his list, Mikha took him for a drink to thank him. Conversation started to flow easily between the two and Mikha soon discovered that they liked all the same books. He doesn’t care what Antonin’s friends say of the wizard, he thinks he is worthy of much more credit than they give him.

THEA ROSMERTA:  Confidant.  Maybe it was her spirit, her bright eyes and the sharp tongue he had experienced first hand a time or two.  Maybe it was the constant presence of a worn, well-loved, paperback... a different one every time he saw her.  Or maybe it was just the fact that she was so different from the typical company he kept, the ones who grew up with.  He didn’t know why people in this country seemed so adverse to those who were different from themselves.  Whatever it was, he found himself beginning to trust her.  Maybe she’d be a friend, but at the very least, she was someone he could depend on to listen when things got hard.

Currently portrayed by ZANE HOLTZ

[yojeongin]

small written portion under images ★彡

sleepless

masterlist in bio

[pt.7: so sad, so sad]

pairings: ugrapper!yoongi x coworker!reader

genre: sex shop au, sm au, crack humor, fluff, angst, and smut

a/n: listen to so far away when reading this part 😔

You could hear the chatter from the living room. It was Yuta and Namjoon agreeing to leave your apartment just so the well needed intimacy with Yoongi could take place without the worry of having to muffle your cries (and hopefully his).

It hadn’t always been like this. Your parents never really asked much from you before attending university. It wasn’t until you became friends with third year, Mani Choi that their expectation begun to actually form and their want of perfection coming from you to exist.

You couldn’t blame Mani herself, she’d always show discomfort when your parents tried comparing you to her or simply tried to defend you with the repetitive excuse of: “Everyone in their own have different ambitions and I’m glad ours are nowhere near similar.” Of course it would only be swept under the rug as they praised her dreams and plans in life.

It’s rather useless to even try and compare Mani to you. Mani’s dreams consist of helping children in need of education, to travel and give the aide they deserved— and as much as you adored her dedication and kindness, you just couldn’t bear being compared to that. It was too perfect, she was too perfect whilst you— well, there’s nothing to say.

You didn’t have any dreams and it isn’t worth trying to remember the ones you used to have as they’ve been long dead and thrown into a pile of oblivion. As hard as you tried, nothing in life was worth it. Everything you did was for the purpose of surviving and living the monotone life you’ve carried for ever since you can remember.

Perhaps that’s why you cling to Yoongi. Seeing him always come in tired and hungry, prominent bags under his eyes, and most of all— works hard to create what he loves: music.

Being with him wasn’t anything regular. There was always the thrill of the unexpected. Despite your relationship within the confines of work and the public eye— Yoongi and you were closer than believed so.

When you can’t sleep, he’s on the other line lulling you to sleep. If he needs inspiration or help with lyrics, he’s at your apartment with whatever street food he can find at such hours. When it’s clear that he isn’t taking care of himself or his body, you’d always make sure to be where he’s at no matter what time or location.

You were there for him and he was there for you.

The mere thought of having him being distant due to the ‘what if’ of Mani only caused a heavy weight to collapse against your chest. The lump in your throat not daring to leave as you held back whatever tears you had.

“Bimbo, open the door. Please…” his voice was soft and tired, raspy at that. It was obvious he hadn’t slept much. “Give me a second.” You’d speak as loud as you could (a mere whisper.)

Standing up from the cold tile floor, hitting your elbow on accident against the counter. Not daring to look at the mirror, you unlocked the door opening a bit just to his tired pale face.

He didn’t smile at you nor did you. The comfort of knowing it was just the two of you was fine within the silence of the apartment. All the lights excluding the bedroom lights and restroom where off. Yoongi sighed looking at you moments away from releasing all you had. “Come on.” His voice was groggy and his arm stretched to hold your shoulder.

His touch was soft as always. Comforting. That’s how it felt when you were with Yoongi. Peace and comfort was the only thing that filled your tired persona. In all honesty being with Yoongi felt like the greatest thing one could experience. The definition of happiness in which you wished to live your whole life.

It’s more than just that, but the rest can’t be explained. It has to only be experienced.

“Your shorts are in the last drawer.” Yoongi had sat you down on the bed as the two of you went inside. Looking to where you pointed at, he only nodded walking towards the drawers. His face demonstrated surprise, yet his lips formed into a playful smirk seeing how neatly his clothes were stored in the drawer. “Stop stealing my stuff.” He’d playfully hint, a smile growing at your lips as your head hung low, hair covering your embarrassment.

“Stop attacking me. It’s not my fault you always leave them behind everywhere.” Yoongi never seemed to remember his items if they didn’t hold a important value to him. In other words he’d never leave his journal behind.

From all the times he stayed at your apartment— many of his sweaters, caps, and even shirts were left behind making Yuta tease you despite knowing nothing happened.

Yoongi loved seeing the way he made you become flustered, his heart couldn’t take it when you’d become shy from just a simply touch from him. Regardless of his obvious demonstrations of affection and interest, he felt like there was nothing he could offer you. Yoongi was fixated on the idea that his ambitions wouldn’t allow him to treat you the way you were meant to. Along that he saw himself as less compared to what you already had. It was a cold case of lady and the tramp. Whatever he could offer, you’d already have.

But most importantly you both were stubborn to admit true feelings. Something Yuta, Eunwoo, Hoseok, and Namjoon took as an advantage for teasing and indirectly push either of you to talk about it.

“Close your eyes. I’ll sleep in the restroom if you peak.” Joking was the coping mechanism you both had, anger was never something either of you liked expressing and if you did, it was only through facial expression that made others stay back, but till this day you still had to see either angry.

“Just one peak, Yoongi.” You’d tease, hands covering your eyes and back facing him. “No.” Giggling you nodded, laying on your side with both hands still on your eyes.

It was awfully silent and the ruffling of his jeans seemed to be accompanying the AC. Staying in that position you could only remember the words your mother threw at you. The pain rushing back and anger of comparison getting to you once again.

Getting lost in those thoughts you didn’t realize he was done and the feeling of arms wrap around you with the bed sinking caused for your hands to become damp with the tears you harshly contained due to how hard your palms pressed at your eyes. “Was it your mom again?” He’d whisper against your ear, his warm breath caressing your ear lobe and his voice only making you come closer to him.

Your face was pressed against his chest, the musk of sweat and cologne intoxicating your senses. He went back to the Shed, that’s why he was down. It could only mean LGP was behind his own despondence. Nonetheless you felt comfort with being this close to him. It was new, other times he’d only hold you when the conversation was done and at that, it was a simple hug, maybe sometimes you’d wake up in each other’s arms but it was only expected when loneliness got the best of you both.

“What did she say?” His volume was normal now, your breathing trying to stay calm as you recollected all that she said, but the mere memory made you tongue tied leaving the silence to speak for you. “She’s just so… so demanding!” The crack at your voice made him pull you closer to him, his grip tightening for comfort and protection. “It’s always the same thing. To be like those she wants me to be. To follow their example and be them, but I don’t want to be them… at this point I hate them.” Your voice faltered as the sentence progressed and a sob left your lips as your hands held his shirt.

The hand that wasn’t holding you, stroked your hair, cooing for relaxation. “Earlier this week she sent me a list of companies I have to work at. Choose one and settle down once in for all. Quit the shop and force myself into the corporate world—“ your hand had left his shirt alone, moving under his arm to hold him as well. It took Yoongi by surprise, but the comfort of being held by you was enough to make him forget his own problems.

“I was supposed to meet with them today and go over my top three but I didn’t even spare a glance at the list. That’s why she called, wondering why I hadn’t visited them; she has this stupid rule of not letting anyone she doesn’t know into the apartment so when she heard you guys she went hysterical. I tried convincing her it was only Yuta— at some point I couldn’t handle her nagging and made her even more angry when I said I was tired of the treatment… I think at this point she’s disowned me.” Yoongi’s chest ached horribly thinking he was the cause of your pain.

A lump formed in the back of his throat and tears threatened to fall. From the times he’d comfort you, he had never seen you cry. You handled your emotions perfectly well so seeing you so tired in front of him only caused for him to give in. “I’m so sorry… I really a—“ “It’s not your fault.” At this point your body pressed against his, your arm draped around his torso as you held him like he held you. A comforting intimate hug.

“You’d think this is bad but I could just imagine the horror if she found out of all the things she’s caused within me. Doubtful that she’d care for my state of mind and only call me ungrateful like many other times… sometimes I envy y/sister/n. She never had to go through this, but thinking about it, she voluntarily obtained the life they deem perfect.” His hand against your hair, holding you as tight as he could. Letting you go was not an option and you were thankful you had him in your life.

Sighing, Yoongi thought of your words. It wasn’t as different from what he had to go with his father. After his mother left, his father tried forcing him into the clean cut perfect life, one that didn’t include music or the pains of it.

His brother followed the same path as your sister, yet the difference was that Yoongi’s father was neither disappointed or pleased with his brother’s decision. The only importance was that he was living a comfortable and decent life unlike Yoongi.

The last news Mr. Min had heard about Yoongi was the drunken voicemail in which he just told him to fuck off and prove him that he’d accomplish his dreams.

Dreams. That seems to be the reoccurring topic.

“What happened at the shed?” Getting him out of his thoughts, Yoongi shook his head, eyes shutting. “Same old as well. That bastard buying off the crowd and making me look like fool every time I go up against him— I don’t understand his fixation on making my life hell. Maybe if he worked for what he wants then he would understand why I didn’t sell my work to him.” Your head slightly tilted upwards, admiring the features you could see.

A smile formed seeing his face but the thought of how painful it must feel to be discredited for your hard work, only caused a frown on your lips. “The way I spill my emotions into these songs can’t just be given away when you’re presented with stacks of money, y/n. Those songs are my struggles, my pain, my state of mind, my fatigue, and eventually the end of me… I haven’t dragged these weights of pain for years just to give them away.” Your arm left his torso, hand caressing his cheek as he spoke, making him melt against your touch.

“The pain of the rich always seem to amuse me. It’s valid but at some points but at others— it’s evident they’ve never heard no. Despite my lack of struggles I’d understand that something that big is not to be given away at all.” Yoongi smiled as he heard you, his thumb caressing your clothed waist. “Your pains revolve around the unknown, y/n. You don’t know what you want in life and you see it bleak, but you also don’t want the cookie cutter lifestyle that can easily be handed to you… and I appreciate that because many would easily take it— but you want the feeling of being alive and thriving on your own terms, and I love that about you.” You felt your breath hitch at his words, your hand only holding his face rather than caressing his cheek anymore.

“And your pains revolve around achieving your dreams. You, out of a few have dreams and you’re going through hell just to achieve it, even if this idiot is testing your patience but he’s not worth your time or a second thought to doubt what you’ve been working on all these years. May your trails end in full bloom.” His eyes had widened the moment you spoke but as you gradually finished, they softened, lips forming a smile as he held you even closer. “Maybe one day I’ll show you something I’m working on.”

“Really?!” You perked up at the sound of that, you couldn’t really look at him due to the way he held you, but the feeling of his lips pressing against your forehead caused for you tense against him in surprise and bliss. Within you— you hoped this meant more than what your heart could take.

“May your trials end in full bloom…”

taglist: @bts-reveries @sugapaste @im-emo-motherfuckers @hobisbeech @snowythellama @the-jackals @hobiheavenly @unbearable-fangirl @live-2-fangirl @labgeek @jiminieschilliepeper @maaayleee @gummygguks @parkjiminstan16 @fekitza @bidisaster1307 @http-softhoney @y-eehaw @officiallyjyptrash @uwukinawa @castellamas @mayumioutloud

[masterthetackle]

Illusionary Majesty

Mifuyu Azusa x G/N!Reader

Summary: Getting Mifuyu Azusa, a regular customer at the cafe you were a part-timer at to open up to you was a chore in and of itself. When finally given an opportunity to learn more about her personal life, the underlying problems of her past create a barrier that you cannot seem to break through.

A/N: This is what happens when you get struck with inspiration. 

Word Count: 2,504

If someone asked you what you thought of Mifuyu Azusa, you’d just say she was a regular at the cafe and nothing more. She’d order something small, retreat to the corner and crack open a book just like everyone else. This was an every other day routine on the weekdays. Tuesdays and Thursdays you’d never see her, which made you wonder what she'd do in between the times you would see her. It was a shame, though, since you enjoyed her quiet company in the cafe.  

Today was a Monday, meaning she would be walking in at any minute. You were the only one handling the front counter at the moment, the manager tending to the books on the shelves in back, so when she walked in you were the first person she saw in her direct vision. Wearing a long-sleeved sweater with a pair of shorts underneath, she made her way over to you and stood across the counter with a smile on her face.

“Well, look who it is. I’m assuming you want your usual?” Mifuyu perked up at the comment, giggling slightly and closing her eyes. 

“Being a regular has its advantages, I see.” Opening her eyes, she glanced over at the bookcases lining the walls. “What’s the recommended book for this week?”

“We haven’t set one yet. The manager was late getting it out.” 

“Ah, I see… well, I’m sure that I can find one to read regardless.” She moved a strand of hair from her face and took out her phone from the bag she’d been carrying around. A grimace laid on her face as she read the many notifications displayed on the screen.

“I’m sorry about this, but would you be kind enough to bring my tea out to the corner table when it’s done? I have to go outside to make an important phone call.” Her thumb shot back behind her shoulder towards the table as she took out and placed a thousand yen note in the money tray. “I’ll come back for the change when I’m done.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

Without another word, she walked outside and began furiously typing away on her smartphone, holding it up to her ear after a few moments. You first made Mifuyu’s change, taking the bill and exchanging it for a five-hundred yen coin, placing it back on the tray but keeping it out of plain sight for the time being. Hopefully this would keep anyone from snatching it up. Pouring her a nice cup of freshly-prepared matcha, you carefully balanced the cup on a saucer and took it to the table in the back corner. 

“Doing errands now, Y/N?” Still lining the shelves, the manager on duty caught your attention. “Wait, don’t tell me. You like her, don’t you?”

“That’s ridiculous, I don’t know the first thing about Mifuyu other than her name. I can’t have feelings for a woman I know nothing about.” Huffing, your hands precariously placed the tea onto the table as you continued to stare at her.

“Well, you must have some sort of interest in her if you know her name, make yourself available and ready at the counter every other day, and willingly leave the counter unattended just to deliver something to her regular table. I know young love when I see it, though it might be one-sided if you say you don’t really know her.”

“Come on, you can’t be serious.” You rolled your eyes. 

“I am serious. Go ahead and take your break when she comes back in. I’m sure she can go a half hour without browsing our shelves.” Smirking, she placed the last book in her hands on the shelf. She was right though, you were definitely cutting corners when it came to Mifuyu. Maybe it was the mysterious aura she brought about, or the way her eyes would light up when she read a good book, or even- no, you had to quit thinking about it, about her. You just happened to work at the cafe she frequented, nothing more.

Fifteen minutes had passed since she went outside. The manager took over the counter for you, but you had to wonder what exactly she could have done with Mifuyu’s change, since it was just laying out on top of the money tray. There was no heat radiating from the tea you'd placed out, getting colder each second that passed by. Instead of staying inside, your legs moved on their own towards the door and opened it, catching a small bit of her conversation.

"-yes, I know the rumor is there for a reason, however-"

"Mifuyu?"

Shocked and surprised to no end, Mifuyu nearly dropped her phone on the concrete. It was clear that she wasn't expecting somebody, especially you of all people, to come out and interrupt her. Muttering something unintelligible into her phone, she ended the call and turned around.

"Oh, it's just you… is there something you needed from me?"

"I just wanted to say that your tea was getting cold. I mean, I can get you a new cup if you'd like." You held the door open to the cafe awaiting her response, to which she shook her head. 

"That won't be necessary." Mifuyu's teal orbs looked through the window at the counter. She probably wanted her change. "I have somewhere I need to go, so I won't be staying today." 

"Oh, but wait, what about your change? Let me grab it for you-" The door slammed quickly behind you, your hand diving behind the counter to grab the single five-hundred yen coin. 

Turning around though, she was nowhere to be seen. She'd already left, and here you were standing with her change in the palm of your hand; clearly whatever it was that she had to do was more important than getting her change back. Not only that, but it was a waste of a fresh cup of matcha. The manager noticed the distraught look on your face and spoke up.

"I'm sure it's nothing against you, so don't take it personal. Some women just happen to be busy at the worst times."

Sighing, you closed your eyes and shook your head. 

"I guess you're right, but what should I do about… this?" 

"Leave it back here. She'll probably use it the next time she comes in anyways. Make sure to clean off the space where the tea is, too. Just a shame she wasted a nice cup of tea with some company to boot."

The next day came and went by like a blur, the events of yesterday doing little to keep your mind focused. The one time, the only time you were actually going to be able to talk to Mifuyu, to get to know her… and she just leaves. What kind of dumb luck was that, anyways? Your eyes continually darted back towards the corner table during orders, and you'd have to apologize for getting distracted. All because of her.

It felt empty yesterday. She wasn’t sitting at her usual table, and it almost felt like the cafe was empty without Mifuyu there. You didn’t even want to move the tea just in case there was a sliver of hope that she would come back that day. 

But she didn’t. 

Now it was Wednesday. Your eyes were trained on the door, hoping and waiting that Mifuyu would walk in and grace you with her presence. It took a while, but when you saw the familiar silver hair, you knew it had to be her. But instead of a smile on her face, she seemed to be frowning, or even drawing a blank expression. There was something bothering her, but you didn’t want to pry for information. Instead, you greeted her with your own smile, standing across the counter from her yet again.

“Usual again, Mifuyu?” 

Silence. 

“I’ll… take that as a-”

“Could I have it to-go this time?” She muttered, averting her eyes from you. “I have things to do, and I can’t spend too much time reading today.”

“Oh… alright. The change from last time will cover it, so I’ll just-”

“Iced, please.” 

This was unusual. She usually didn’t want her tea iced, so you had to wonder what made her change her mind. Biting your lip to stay silent, you nodded and got to work on her drink. The way she was cutting off your sentences was just as strange as the iced tea. 

“What do you have to do today, if you don’t mind me asking?” You asked, pouring the ice into a clear cup as you spoke.

“Studying. I’d do it here if I wasn’t getting tutored, but… unfortunately, that is the case.”

“What are you studying?”

“Advanced calculus. It’s a required subject for someone pursuing a degree in pharmaceutics…”

“Oh, a pharmaceutical degree? I’d never’ve known. I’ve never seen you when I’ve been on campus.”

“It’s… complicated.”

Just when you thought she was starting to open up to you, she closed herself right back up. Groaning in annoyance, you poured hot tea into the cup and practically slammed the lid on it. 

“Well, here’s your drink. Have fun studying.” Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but be a bit annoyed with Mifuyu. She took the cup from the counter and stood for a moment, watching your expression twist. 

“Are you alright?” Were you alright? What kind of dumb question was that? How could someone like her waltz in here like that and blow you off? 

“Oh, I’m fine. Fantastic. Didn’t you have somewhere to be right now, studying?” 

“...I see. Yes, I do, thanks for reminding me as if I’m not able to remember the reason why I got my tea to-go.” Huffing, she furrowed her brow and glared daggers into your soul. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Mifuyu, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I said goodbye, Y/N.” Turning on her heel, Mifuyu made a beeline straight for the door carrying her drink in one hand and taking out her phone with the other. The manager noticed the tone she used and the weight her words laid on you and decided to intervene, catching her right before she walked out the door.

“Hey now, they didn’t mean to make it sound like you were an idiot or anything like that. Don’t be mad at Y/N.”

“My feelings are none of your concern. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.” 

Sidestepping out of the way, the manager watched Mifuyu walk out with a single tear falling down her cheek. 

“I don’t think she’s doing good. I’m pretty sure she was on the verge of tears…” Looking at you, she leaned against the counter. “Say, go take your break and catch up with her. If you don't do something now, it might be too late. If you don’t come back on time, I’ll just assume that you’re still trying to fix things, no biggie.” 

“Are you sure about this?”

“Positive. Now go, hurry before she disappears from your line of sight.”

Taking off your apron quickly and discarding it under the counter, you practically ran out of the cafe to catch up with the girl you were so hopelessly crushing on. Thankfully she’d barely made it a few hundred yards past the store, so you were able to catch up in no time flat.

“Mifuyu, wait!” 

Turning around, her glossy eyes met yours in an instant, and the same tear that had streaked down her face earlier left a trail in its wake. 

“Hey... now I thought that you were the one who asked me if I was alright, yet here you are tearing up with an iced tea of all things. Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“I’m sorry, but… you wouldn’t understand my problems, Y/N. They’re… private.”

“Why did you come to the cafe today if you weren’t going to sit down and enjoy a book? You could have just made a drink at home without having to pay. Come on, just say something.”

“As I said before, you wouldn’t understand my problems. It’s not because you’re incapable of understanding, it’s just… you wouldn’t be able to handle the truth.”

“What do you mean? The truth about what?”

“About me.” Mifuyu’s answer was vague and mysterious, but the words that came out of her mouth carried a heavy weight about them. Casting her gaze downwards to her feet, she let out a forced chuckle. “You don’t have to worry. Whatever you’re thinking, just know that I can handle myself.”

“It’s hard not to worry when the girl I’ve caught feelings for is standing right in front of me and acting out of character.”

Her head shot back up immediately, but instead of being surprised, Mifuyu looked disappointed. Even saddened would be a good way to describe it. Her lips formed a thin line, and the grip on her tea loosened. When she finally spoke up, her voice was but a hushed whisper.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but I… I can’t. A woman like me can’t live a normal life full of happiness. I have too much weight on my shoulders to act on feelings... if things were different…” 

“Then change things for the better, for your own sake. If you want to live a life full of burden, then a life full of burden is what you’re going to get. If you want to be happy, then you’re going to have to make subtle changes in your life to make way for happiness, right? I don’t know a lot about you, but I’d… I’d love to get to know you. Not just as a customer of the cafe, but as a person.”

“I’ll think hard on what you’ve said to me, Y/N.” There was a long pause before she spoke again, contemplating and carefully choosing her words. “I’m not free often, but… I think I can squeeze in a little time for you.”

“I’m glad, Mifuyu.” Smiling, you rubbed the back of your head. “Do you still have to go study?”

“Unfortunately. Those derivatives won’t solve themselves.” Her expression softened, and for just a moment you could swear she moved closer to you, but ended up backing away regardless. “Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. I’m sure when I see you on Friday I’ll have an answer for you regarding my decision.”

“Think long and hard about it… regardless of your choice, I’ll still be here. I don’t understand your circumstances, but I’ll be here to listen. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“You’re absolutely right.” 

One last smile from Mifuyu was all you received before she turned back around and started walking down the street yet again. There was a renewed sense of purpose in her steps, and she took a sip of her iced tea as a small reminder of the person who made it for her: you. You, to her, were someone special and irreplaceable.

All because you cared about her without knowing the truth.

[lucacangettathisass]

how the light gets in (ch. 9)

SUMMARY: After your home is ransacked by a group of strange men, you and your cousin are taken in by a group of outlaws. And that’s when the trouble really starts.

PAIRINGS: John Marston x Fem!Reader, Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

check the fic tag for previous chapters!

TAGGING: @mountainhymn @kindred-hopes if you would like to be added to the tag list lmk!

NOTES: happy new year everyone!...and a little over a month since the last update LMAO this chapter is a long one so hopefully that makes up for it! just wanted to say thank you again for all the kind words and support y’all have shown! it really is so heartwarming and encouraging and is just genuinely lovely to see! anyways hope you all enjoy this one!

In the week that followed your meeting with Mr Van Der Linde and Mr Matthews, you remained inside with the other women, doing a bit of talking, but mostly listening, and learning what they were willing to share about themselves. When you were a child you learned that most people enjoyed talking about themselves in one way or another. Just make sure to listen and at least seem interested, and you could learn all sorts of things that you could later use to create a deeper relationship, and that was what you were doing with the women.

Despite your earlier shyness and anxieties, you found yourself enjoying their company, and while you couldn’t confidently say that you were all friends, you hoped that they would grow to see you as one.

In particular, you had grown rather fond of Miss Roberts. She reminded you of Sadie in a way; both were strong and resilient women, bold and brave. Every quality you ever felt like you lacked, you saw them wield with expertise, and it awed you just as much as it made you envious.

You also saw some glimpses of your mother in Miss Roberts, as both had been young mothers in undesirable circumstances. Admittedly Miss Roberts had a wider circle of support than what your mother had, even with your aunt and uncle, and Jack’s father was still in the picture, but the similarities were very much there. You found yourself wanting to befriend Miss Roberts, and lift some of her burdens, in a way that you couldn’t have done for your mother when you were a child.

“I’ll tend to Mr Marston today.” You said to her. “You should rest and try to take your mind off things.” You knew that that was of course far easier said than done, but you hoped that not having to see Mr Marston’s injuries would do her some good. In truth, you didn’t really know what Miss Roberts and Mr Marston got up to when she went to see him, but it didn’t always seem to be pleasant, as Miss Roberts would sometimes return looking upset.

Yesterday had been one of those days, so you imagined that Miss Roberts wouldn’t exactly be eager to be by Mr Marston’s side, and you had turned out to be right.

As you made your way to the mens’ house, you found the snow to be easier to navigate through, softer somehow, although you couldn’t pinpoint why, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

When you entered, you smiled at them all. You hadn’t spoken to all of them yet, Herr Strauss had remained the friendliest out of them all, although Mr Escuella wasn’t trailing too far behind. It was nice knowing that you had established something of a rapport with the two men, it made you feel more comfortable among everyone.

You gently approached Mr Marston, sitting in the chair by his bed. Someone, you guessed either Miss Roberts or Miss Grimshaw, had set up a small medical station with extra bandages, disinfectant, and a face cloth. It was by no means sophisticated, but you didn’t expect nor needed it to be. You looked over at Mr Marston and smiled at him.

“Did you sleep well Mr Marston?”

He didn’t immediately answer, and for a moment you were afraid that he was in a bad mood. “Fine.”

You let out a small sigh of relief, smiling. “I’m happy to hear it.” You inspected his face for anything of concern, as you have before. Just as your fingertips went over his scar, you felt Mr Marston shiver and you immediately stopped. “Is everything alright Mr Marston?” You asked. “Are my hands cold?” You brought your hands to your face and winced when you found that they were a little chilly. “Sorry.” You said sheepishly. “I should’ve thought about that.”

“It...it’s fine.” Mr Marston looked away. “It was colder out there.”

Of that you had no doubt. You got to work redressing his wound, taking care not to cause him any more discomfort. “Jack is doing well.” You said, in an attempt to make conversation. “He’s a very good boy, you must be very proud.” Mr Marston grunted. “I would be if he were mine.”

You stopped completely, looking up at Mr Marston in surprise. “Oh! I-My apologies, it’s just-well, Miss Roberts-”

Marston snorted. “She wants him to be mine, but I’m sure he ain’t.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to say. You assumed that Mr Marston would know whether or not a child was his, but why Miss Roberts would specifically name him as Jack’s father was beyond you. Well, no matter. That wasn’t your business, so you weren’t going to worry about it.

“You’re uh...you’re good at this.”

You smiled, blushing at the sudden compliment. “Thank you, I’ve had practice.” You gently re-applied the bandage on his face. “Although, I must say, your wounds are worse than others I’ve seen.”

Mr Marston snorted. “Don’t imagine you see a lot of this with rich folks.”

You pause, and glance over your shoulder at Mr Escuella. You had suspected that he would tell the rest of the men what you had shared with Mr Van Der Linde, Mr Matthews, and Mr Morgan, but you hadn’t expected to be questioned about it so bluntly.

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.” You admitted. “I doubt any of them would be brave enough to venture out into the mountains in these conditions.”

A look of surprise comes over Mr Marston, although you couldn’t say what he was surprised about. His mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. “You know, you’re alright for a girl raised by rich folks.”

You blinked. “I...Thank you Mr Marston.” It certainly sounded like a compliment, although a rather confusing one. But then, you imagined that he didn’t have a high opinion of ‘rich folks’. You gently discarded the soiled bandages before looking over Mr Marston one last time. “We should really get you to a proper doctor.” You muttered with a sigh. You knew a number of fine doctors, all of whom would be able to give Mr Marston the treatment he needed, but you had no way of contacting them. And even if you did, you doubted any of them would come out all this way for an outlaw, no matter their condition.

“I’ll be fine.” Mr Marston said dismissively. “I’ve faced worse without one.”

You furrowed your brow, wondering what on Earth could be worse than this, but you knew better than to pry. You stood up, giving Mr Marston one last smile. “I’ll check on you again in a few days.”

Mr Marston nodded, looking down. “Th….thanks.”

You looked at Mr Marston in surprise, but smiled all the same. “You’re welcome Mr Marston.” You gave each of the men a smile as you left, feeling a new lightness in your step.

When you stepped outside, you almost slipped, before righting yourself at just the last second. You stood up properly and looked down at patch of snow that had given way beneath your foot, and saw that it had turned into sludge, almost like dirt after a heavy rain. Your heart began to race and noticed that the usually biting winds that had been keeping you all company had finally decided to leave. You walked as carefully as you could back to the house with the other women, watching as the snow offered much less resistance than usual.

“How is he?” Miss Roberts asked after you had shut the door behind yourself.

“Fine.” You replied, turning to all the women. “And I think we will be too.” You smiled widely.

“What makes you say that?” Miss Jackson asked.

“Everything’s starting to thaw.”

You could almost see and feel a weight being lifted off everyone, as excited looks were passed around and you sat beside Sadie. “Looks like we’ll be off this mountain soon.” You said eagerly.

Sadie nodded. “Regardless of where we end up, I want you to stay close to me.” She said in a low voice. “I don’t want you out of my sight for a second.”

You could only nod, you were too excited at the prospect of going back to civilization to argue.

-

Funnily and luckily enough, the thaw had come in just days before Mr Cornwall’s train was set to pass through the mountains, allowing Mr Van Der Linde to go through his plan. And while he and the men he would take with him were doing that, the rest of you would pack everything up, ready to leave as soon as the men got back.

Of course, Mr Morgan was chosen to go along with the job, which meant once again riding Gladys, an idea she clearly still didn’t like.

“She’s probably still trying to adjust to all of the changes.” You said as you firmly held her reins, trying to calm her. “It isn’t like her to have this much of an attitude.”

Mr Morgan grunted. “Well, if I were her, I wouldn’t want to have me in the saddle either.”

You frowned, unsure as to what he was getting at.

“Why are we doing this?”

You turned around and saw Mr Matthews approaching Mr Van Der Linde, who was also saddling up.

“Weather’s breaking, we could leave.” You could hear the worry in his voice, and it was painfully obvious that he was skeptical of Mr Van Der Linde’s plan. “I-I thought we was lying low.”

“What do you want from me Hosea?” Mr Van Der Linde asked back, sounding equally exasperated.

“I just don’t want any more folks to die, Dutch.”

You frowned and looked away. You could definitely empathize with that.

“We’re living, Hosea, we’re living…” Mr Van Der Linde turned to the older man, “look at me, we’re living...even you.”

You frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

“But we need money, everything we have’s in Blackwater. You fancy heading back there?”

“No.” Mr Matthews still didn’t sound convinced, and you pitied him. “Listen, Dutch, I ain’t trying to undermine you, I just…” He sighed heavily. “I just want to stick to the plan...which was to lie low, then head back out west. Now suddenly, we’re about to rob a train.”

You exchanged a glance with Gladys, who also seemed to be interested in what Mr Matthews had to say. It wasn’t a bad idea, and from what you had heard, the western territories hadn’t seen as much development, it would be easy for someone to disappear out there. Possibly even a whole gang.

“What choice have we got?”

Mr Matthews sighed again. “Leviticus Cornwall’s no joke, Dutch…” He looked up, and saw you. “You heard what [Name] said.” He gestured to you. “He’s powerful, rich, and has a fragile ego. He isn’t the sort of mark you want to go after lightly.”

Immediately you felt your face flush, and you tried to hide behind Gladys, who seemed to have sensed your discomfort and took a few steps forward, shielding you from the mens’ gazes.

“It also sounds like he has more than enough to share.” Mr Van Der Linde said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Dutch-”

“Gentlemen, it is time to make something of ourselves.” Mr Van Der Linde called out, prompting some of the other men to run out to their horses. “Get your horses ready, we have a train to rob.”

Still holding onto Gladys’s reins, you kept her steady as Mr Morgan mounted her. “Behave yourself.” You muttered to Gladys. “I don’t want to hear any complaints from Mr Morgan.”

She huffed, as if offended by the idea of accommodating Mr Morgan in any way.

You stepped back, giving Mr Morgan room to turn Gladys around. “Good luck.” You said anxiously. “Be careful.”

Mr Morgan nodded. “‘Preciate it.” He said, turning away to ride off behind Mr Van Der Linde with the other men.

You watched them all go, hoping that Mr Matthews’ concerns would come to fruition. You turned to face the older man, who still looked troubled. “Are you alright Mr Matthews?” You asked gently.

“As alright as I can be.” He said with a sigh.

You gently placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.” You said with a smile. “And as long as no one is able to recognize them, then there won’t be any trouble, right?”

Mr Matthews still appears unsure. “I suppose.” He sighed again. “I’m just getting too old for this kind of life I think, but it’s good of you to care.”

“Of course, it’s the least I can do, considering everything you all have done for Sadie and I.”

Mr Matthews smiled a little. “That’s very sweet of you.” He patted your arm and gave you a kind look. “Would you mind checking up on John? Just to make sure he’s ok and ready to go when we need to.”

You nodded. “Of course Mr Matthews.” You made your way to the house, a little more confident walking in the partially thawed snow. 

When you opened the door, you were surprised to see Mr Marston on his feet, putting on a jacket. “Mr Marston!” You squeaked, rushing to him. “What are you doing? You need to rest!”

“I’ve rested enough.” He grunted. “I should be out there too, robbing that train.”

“Mr Marston please sit down you’re not in any state to do anything like that.” You gently held his arm. “Mr Van Der Linde has more than enough men to help him.”

“I should still be out there.” Mr Marston gently took his arm out of your grasp and took a step forward, wincing as he did so.

“Mr Marston please.” You quickly stood in front of him, stopping him from moving. “You’re clearly still in pain. I implore you, go back to bed. The more you rest, the faster you getter better, and the sooner you can help Mr Van Der Linde.” You kept your tone as gentle and kind as possible, not wanting to further wound Mr Marston’s clearly aching pride. “Please. For your own sake.”

Mr Marston stared down at you, dumb founded. He seemed to be genuinely surprised that you were this concerned. He looked like he was about to argue, but his bad leg began to wobble and he winced, falling back to sit on the cot. He sighed irritably. “Looks like you’re right. I’m no use to anyone right now.” He took off the jacket, angrily throwing it to the ground.

You frowned, feeling bad for him. You couldn’t imagine how upset he must be, seeing all the other able bodied men go off on such a daring job. You carefully picked the jacket up, folding it up gently and placing it on the seat beside his cot.”You just need to get your strength back.” You said kindly. “You’ll see, you’ll be fighting fit in no time!” You smiled encouragingly, hoping that some of this was working, even if only a little bit.

After a brief pause, Mr Marston chuckled. “Javier was right.” He looked up at you, with a small smile. “You really are too nice for us.”

You blushed a little, not entirely sure  what to make of that. “I don’t know about that.” You said, embarrassed. “You’ve all been kind to Sadie and I, it’s only fair I return the favour.” You cleared your throat. “Now, please Mr Marston, get back into bed, and I won’t tell Mr Matthews about this.”

Mr Marston chuckled again. “Alright alright, ya twisted my arm.” He lay back down on the cot, using both hands to lift his bad leg up and onto it.

You heaved a sigh of relief and smiled. “How’s that wound of yours?” You moved closer to this side to properly inspect it.

Mr Marston waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine, I just need to…” He sighed heavily. “Wallow in self pity for a little longer.”

You hummed. “I’m familiar with that feeling.” You said softly with a small smile. “And if anyone here is entitled to feeling like that then it’s definitely you. You went through a lot out there.”

Mr Marston snorted. “I wouldn’t say that. I just…” He trailed off, and you waited for him to finish. But instead he sighed and turned away. “You go on and help everyone else. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You bit your bottom lip, reluctant to leave. But it was what he wanted, and you had to respect that. “Just think, before long, we’ll be warm again.” You said brightly as you left. “At least then it’ll be far more pleasant for you in bed.”

You thought you heard a soft chuckle as you closed the door, but you couldn’t be sure.

-

That night, most of the men returned from the train-most, because Mr Morgan had been notably absent, on account of him being left to deal with the remaining train guards and send the train back on it’s way.

The robbery had been very successful, producing a number of expensive items, stacks of money, and best of all, bearer bonds. You had no doubt that Mr Van Der Linde and Mr Matthews would be able to find a buyer for them.

It wasn’t until the next day, when Mr Morgan finally returned with Gladys, that you were all able to finally leave Colter.

You heaved a sigh of relief when you saw Mr Morgan return and allowed herself to smile. Your smile grew when Gladys trotted over to you the second Mr Morgan was off her, clearly not wanting to spend any more time with him.

“You’re going to have to learn how to deal with him.” You reminded her when she nudged your shoulder. You gave her a face a quick stroke before going back to loading up one of the wagons. Or, at least, trying to. You were trying to stack a crate into the back of one of the covered wagons, but it was becoming very clear very quickly that you were sorely lacking when it came to upper body strength.

“Hey, lemme help with that.”

You jumped, surprised, and turned to see one of the men approach you. He was large, larger than Mr Morgan, with a thick dark brown beard and a heavy brown coat. You had seen him join Mr Van Der Linde on the train robbery, and while the two of you hadn’t been formally introduced yet, by going through the process of elimination, you guessed that it was Mr Williamson. “Thank you.” You said. “Mr Williamson right?”

He nodded, looking a little surprised. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Well it’s very kind of you to help me Mr Williamson.” You crouched, digging your hands under one end of the crate so that you had a good grip on it. “You can take the other side.”

“I don’t mind taking the whole thing.”

You shook your head. “I insist Mr Williamson. We’re all supposed to help, and I would feel bad if I left you to do this by yourself.”

Mr Williamson gave you a strange look, but he conceded and took hold of the other end of the crate, lifting it with extreme ease, and putting it into the wagon without you really having to do anything. “Thank you.” You said. “You’re very strong Mr Williamson.”

Mr Williamson’s face was red, most likely from the cold. “It-it’s nothin’.” He cleared his throat. “We should uh, get the rest of this done.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

The two of you were able to fill up the wagon quickly, although of course you would attribute that to Mr Williamson’s far superior strength. By the end of it you smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you so much Mr Williamson! I really do appreciate the help.”

Mr Williamson looked down and cleared his throat. “It uh...it ain’t nothin’.”

“[Name]!”

You and Mr Williamson both jumped, turning to see Sadie staring both of you down. “We need you for something [Name].”

“Coming Sadie!” You turned to Mr Williamson and smiled. “Thank you again Mr Williamson.” You took hold Gladys’s reins and lead her with you as you made your way to Sadie. “Yes? What do you need?”

“Hitch Gladys to this wagon.” She said. “Then you can help load it.”

You did as you were told, and you were relieved to see that Gladys needed little encouragement to behave and was actually doing what was asked of her for once. After that, you helped her and some of the other women load up the wagon, thankfully with things that were much easier to lift. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Mr Smith and Miss Roberts were helping Mr Marston into another covered wagon. You winced a little at the way Mr Marston moved, he was clearly still in a lot of pain and you felt horrible for him.

‘We’ll be off the mountain soon.’ You kept telling yourself. ‘And then he can get proper help.’

Within the hour you were all on your way down from the mountain, away from Colter, back to civilization. You sat with the other ladies in the wagon that Gladys was helping to pull, with Miss Grimsahw at the reins.

“Can’t wait until we’re warm again.” Miss Jackson said with a shiver. “Won’t be keeping myself awake with my teeth chattering.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Miss Jones said teasingly, causing the rest of you to laugh.

You sat across from Miss Roberts and Jack, both of whom looked equal parts excited and anxious, especially Jack. You smiled kindly at them and leaned forward to put a hand on Miss Roberts’s knee. “Once we’re down from the mountain we can take Mr Marston to a proper doctor.” You said softly. “And he can get the proper help he needs.”

Miss Roberts sighed. “I hope so.” She stroked her son’s hair tenderly, smiling down at him before looking up at you. “I wanted to thank you for helping to take care of him. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did.” You said kindly. “After everything you all have done for Sadie and I, it’s the absolute least I could’ve done.” You smiled widely at her. “And even if I didn’t know any of you, I still would’ve done it.”

The other women seemed surprised to hear that, and exchanged glances.

“You really are too kind.” Miss Roberts said, trying to smile back despite how tired and haggard she is.

In this lighting, she truly could’ve been your mother, and it made you squeeze her knee again. “We’ll be ok.” You said.

(A part of you pretended that you truly were saying that to your mother. You didn’t think she heard it enough when she was still around.)

[javiersbreweraz]

Elegant Themes Divi Review – Is Divi Worth It?

If you are in the marketing for a new WordPress page builder, you’re going to love Divi. In this Divi Review, I’ll share everything you need to know about Divi plus why it’s now my main theme for building websites.

Limited Time Bonus: If you purchase Divi through any of the links on this page, you’ll get a Free SEO Course as a thank you for supporting me! More info below.

Whether this is your first website build or your hundredth. It’s becoming easier and easier when it comes to making your own website. With all the software and tools available, you can save yourself thousands of dollars in development fees, and do it yourself!

Gone are the days where you need coders to create a website from scratch with basic text and images. With page builders like Divi, you now have the ability to create incredible websites with a few clicks of a button and customise them to however your heart desires.

What is Divi?

Divi is the flagship product from Elegant Themes which is a theme, and also a page builder plugin that can be used on other themes. Unlike most other page builders, it runs off shortcodes which allows the code to stay light but flexible.

The first version of Divi went live in 2013 and was revolutionary for it’s time. To be fair, it still is pretty revolutionary even today. With over 2.7 million installs of Divi, it’s safe to say it’s one of the most popular builders when it comes to WordPress websites.

But what makes Divi so special? There are a lot of reasons why it’s become such a bit hit, so let’s dig into them.

Divi Features

The first and main reason people buy Divi is because of its drag-and-drop visual builder. With this feature, you are able to manipulate the live website to however you want using your mouse and keyboard.

To make this manageable, Divi has created 3x main elements to any page or post. Sections, Rows and Modules. Having these 3 elements available makes it easy to create any type of page using Divi no matter the experience of the user.

Divi Visual Builder

One of the most unique things about the drag-and-drop visual builder in Divi is the ability to drag out the margins and padding of the different elements. If you wanted more spacing between 2x sections, you could simply click and drag. Once you let go, it’ll automatically adjust the settings and once you click save, it’ll look exactly as you left it.

This is one of the main selling points for beginners. No longer are you required to hire coders to create magnificent looking websites, it’s easily achievable with Divi.

Pre-made Websites & Templates

If you are someone who is thinking of creating a web agency or you just love having options, you’re going to love what Divi has to offer. With over 175 premade entire websites as well as over 1250 premade page layouts, you’re never going to run out of templates to use.

The team at Elegant Themes have created all of these templates based on industries, so you can literally plug and play the websites where ever you want, whenever you want. 

Divi Modules

The modules are what actually make a website look like something. There are over 40+ official modules you can use from Divi, and if you want to venture out, you can also download 3rd party plugins to add even more modules.

What is the difference between the Divi Theme and Divi Plugin?

There are two parts to Divi. The Divi Theme which has the Divi builder natively installed inside of the theme. Then there is the Divi builder plugin, which can be installed and gives you the ability to edit pages and posts on other themes.

Installing the Theme gives you a few extra customisations in the theme customizer tab. However, the plugin still has about 90% of what the Theme has. If you currently have a theme you want to keep using, adding the Divi builder plugin will allow you to keep your theme and add the power of Divi.

Is Divi bad for SEO?

No. Divi doesn’t have any effect on your websites SEO. The builder is light-weight and caters to the needs of Google’s search engine. Many websites use Divi and have no issue with search-ability, indexing or ranking. I have seen this first hand on my personal websites.

How much does Divi cost?

Divi has a few different pricing plans. You can either choose to pay $89 yearly or pay $249 for lifetime access. The great thing about this licence is there is no restriction to how many websites you can use Divi on. While other page builders limit you to 1x site, 3x sites or 10x sites, there is no cap with Divi.

When you purchase Divi though, you aren’t just purchasing 1x WordPress theme, your membership includes additional products too at no extra charge. You get the following products included in your Elegant Themes membership:

Extra Theme – Magazine-Style WordPress theme

Monarch – a Social Share Buttons plugin

Bloom – an Email Optin Popup plugin

Usually, the plugins alone would cost you upwards of $50 to get a licence for, but they are included free for you. The Extra theme is also a versatile theme I’ve used on many sites to quickly and easily create a magazine-style website.

Are there any cons to using Divi?

There are a few things that you eventually may face as a Divi user. Personally they haven’t stopped me using it, instead just caused a little frustration.

These things are:

While adding 3rd party plugins, if there is a compatibility issue between the 3rd party plugin and Divi, it can cause the builder to constantly load, but never load.

If you tend to create large pages with many working elements, it can draw a lot of CPU power and become slow. I have only run into this issue twice, but its an issue regardless.

If you use the native Divi elements plus plugins that are popular, you shouldn’t face these issues. It’s only when I’ve tried experimenting with new plugins or extremely long blog posts I have faced this.

Divi Review: Is Divi Worth The Money?

Short answer, Yes. The amount of templates, features, modules and ability to use Divi on unlimited websites is huge value for money. Top that off with the ability to own a lifetime licence for only $249 one-time and this will heavily reduce your website costs in the long term.

Similar companies don’t offer lifetime licences and charge by amount of websites it’s used on. This makes Divi one of the most affordable and customisable WordPress page builders available. 

Hopefully this review has given you a little insight into Divi. If you haven’t yet, make sure you watch the Divi Review video so you can see the builder in action. 

Bonus: Free SEO Course for BW Supporters!

If you decide that Divi is for you, I have a bonus for you. I’ve created an SEO Course which I’d love to give it to you as a gift if you purchase Divi from any link on this article. I’m an affiliate for Divi so I’ll get a small kickback at no extra cost to you, and you’ll get a free SEO course as a thank you from me.

I appreciate all who support this website and my Youtube channel, I hope you enjoy Divi!

source https://beginnerwebsite.com/divi-review/ source https://beginnerwebsite.tumblr.com/post/626023877829689345

[beginnerwebsite]

Elegant Themes Divi Review – Is Divi Worth It?

If you are in the marketing for a new WordPress page builder, you’re going to love Divi. In this Divi Review, I’ll share everything you need to know about Divi plus why it’s now my main theme for building websites.

Limited Time Bonus: If you purchase Divi through any of the links on this page, you’ll get a Free SEO Course as a thank you for supporting me! More info below.

Whether this is your first website build or your hundredth. It’s becoming easier and easier when it comes to making your own website. With all the software and tools available, you can save yourself thousands of dollars in development fees, and do it yourself!

Gone are the days where you need coders to create a website from scratch with basic text and images. With page builders like Divi, you now have the ability to create incredible websites with a few clicks of a button and customise them to however your heart desires.

What is Divi?

Divi is the flagship product from Elegant Themes which is a theme, and also a page builder plugin that can be used on other themes. Unlike most other page builders, it runs off shortcodes which allows the code to stay light but flexible.

The first version of Divi went live in 2013 and was revolutionary for it’s time. To be fair, it still is pretty revolutionary even today. With over 2.7 million installs of Divi, it’s safe to say it’s one of the most popular builders when it comes to WordPress websites.

But what makes Divi so special? There are a lot of reasons why it’s become such a bit hit, so let’s dig into them.

Divi Features

The first and main reason people buy Divi is because of its drag-and-drop visual builder. With this feature, you are able to manipulate the live website to however you want using your mouse and keyboard.

To make this manageable, Divi has created 3x main elements to any page or post. Sections, Rows and Modules. Having these 3 elements available makes it easy to create any type of page using Divi no matter the experience of the user.

Divi Visual Builder

One of the most unique things about the drag-and-drop visual builder in Divi is the ability to drag out the margins and padding of the different elements. If you wanted more spacing between 2x sections, you could simply click and drag. Once you let go, it’ll automatically adjust the settings and once you click save, it’ll look exactly as you left it.

This is one of the main selling points for beginners. No longer are you required to hire coders to create magnificent looking websites, it’s easily achievable with Divi.

Pre-made Websites & Templates

If you are someone who is thinking of creating a web agency or you just love having options, you’re going to love what Divi has to offer. With over 175 premade entire websites as well as over 1250 premade page layouts, you’re never going to run out of templates to use.

The team at Elegant Themes have created all of these templates based on industries, so you can literally plug and play the websites where ever you want, whenever you want. 

Divi Modules

The modules are what actually make a website look like something. There are over 40+ official modules you can use from Divi, and if you want to venture out, you can also download 3rd party plugins to add even more modules.

What is the difference between the Divi Theme and Divi Plugin?

There are two parts to Divi. The Divi Theme which has the Divi builder natively installed inside of the theme. Then there is the Divi builder plugin, which can be installed and gives you the ability to edit pages and posts on other themes.

Installing the Theme gives you a few extra customisations in the theme customizer tab. However, the plugin still has about 90% of what the Theme has. If you currently have a theme you want to keep using, adding the Divi builder plugin will allow you to keep your theme and add the power of Divi.

Is Divi bad for SEO?

No. Divi doesn’t have any effect on your websites SEO. The builder is light-weight and caters to the needs of Google’s search engine. Many websites use Divi and have no issue with search-ability, indexing or ranking. I have seen this first hand on my personal websites.

How much does Divi cost?

Divi has a few different pricing plans. You can either choose to pay $89 yearly or pay $249 for lifetime access. The great thing about this licence is there is no restriction to how many websites you can use Divi on. While other page builders limit you to 1x site, 3x sites or 10x sites, there is no cap with Divi.

When you purchase Divi though, you aren’t just purchasing 1x WordPress theme, your membership includes additional products too at no extra charge. You get the following products included in your Elegant Themes membership:

Extra Theme – Magazine-Style WordPress theme

Monarch – a Social Share Buttons plugin

Bloom – an Email Optin Popup plugin

Usually, the plugins alone would cost you upwards of $50 to get a licence for, but they are included free for you. The Extra theme is also a versatile theme I’ve used on many sites to quickly and easily create a magazine-style website.

Are there any cons to using Divi?

There are a few things that you eventually may face as a Divi user. Personally they haven’t stopped me using it, instead just caused a little frustration.

These things are:

While adding 3rd party plugins, if there is a compatibility issue between the 3rd party plugin and Divi, it can cause the builder to constantly load, but never load.

If you tend to create large pages with many working elements, it can draw a lot of CPU power and become slow. I have only run into this issue twice, but its an issue regardless.

If you use the native Divi elements plus plugins that are popular, you shouldn’t face these issues. It’s only when I’ve tried experimenting with new plugins or extremely long blog posts I have faced this.

Divi Review: Is Divi Worth The Money?

Short answer, Yes. The amount of templates, features, modules and ability to use Divi on unlimited websites is huge value for money. Top that off with the ability to own a lifetime licence for only $249 one-time and this will heavily reduce your website costs in the long term.

Similar companies don’t offer lifetime licences and charge by amount of websites it’s used on. This makes Divi one of the most affordable and customisable WordPress page builders available. 

Hopefully this review has given you a little insight into Divi. If you haven’t yet, make sure you watch the Divi Review video so you can see the builder in action. 

Bonus: Free SEO Course for BW Supporters!

If you decide that Divi is for you, I have a bonus for you. I’ve created an SEO Course which I’d love to give it to you as a gift if you purchase Divi from any link on this article. I’m an affiliate for Divi so I’ll get a small kickback at no extra cost to you, and you’ll get a free SEO course as a thank you from me.

I appreciate all who support this website and my Youtube channel, I hope you enjoy Divi!

source https://beginnerwebsite.com/divi-review/

[zoyastormwitch]

pretty lies & ugly truths ;

author’s note ; this was meant to just be some gratuitous smut, but it always has to turn into feelings and more. regardless, i regret nothing. I HOPE U LIKE IT it’s my first time writing these guys. (and hopefully not the last.) word count ; 4826 fandom ; the cruel prince/tfota ship ; jude duarte x cardan greenbriar chapter rating ; explicit  tags ; smut, angst, hate sex, smut with feelings, post-TWK ao3 ; here description ; Jude is back in Elfhame after months being exiled to the mortal world, only to find herself feeling humiliated and - angry. Very angry. The thing about being angry at Cardan, though, is that it's never quite as it seems. 

pretty lies & ugly truths ; 

“Are —“

If the clack of her heels against tiled floors didn’t make Jude Duarte feel powerful, then the blade in hand certainly did.

“You —“

Or perhaps it was the crown, sitting atop her head surrounded by intricate plaits coiled and twisted, that provided the thrill of power.

“Kidding —“

She wasn’t used to the foreign weight of it, neither figurative nor literal, but in her rampage across the now-empty throne room she didn’t even stumble.

“Me.”

No, she realized. It wasn’t the crown. It wasn’t the shoes. Not even the blade, which had been abandoned in her fury and thus clattered to the floor with a deafening thud.

“I hate you,” she seethed for what was probably around the thousandth time just that month.

A hand wrapped itself around her dear husband’s neck, thumb pressed tight against the column of his throat, and Jude decided that none of those aforementioned outside sources contributed to the overwhelming feeling of power as much as her own bare hands and the sheer force of her singleminded will.

“Wife.”

His voice managed to maintain its low and silky texture despite her attempts to cut into his air supply. Her other hand jumped to his throat, both thumbs working their target as her heart beat wildly within the confines of her chest.

“You did that on purpose,” she accused in a wild fury. “Admit it.”

“I can not — admit much with — your hands —“ he choked out.

Pleased by his evident struggle, Jude released him. She didn’t move away however; his coal eyes flared when she lunged closer. She all but caged him into his throne with her arms as the bars, hands propped against the ornate chair’s back on either side of his head. The plush, cushiony velvet felt too nice by far against the callouses of her palms.

“Admit it,” Jude hissed, her face so close to his that anyone passing might simply assume a moment of intimacy between the King and his Queen.

“Admit what, dear wife?”

“That you brought me back here just to humiliate me. That you arranged all that to build me up as nothing more but a poor, pathetic mortal.”

The crown upon her head tipped forward slightly, serving only as a reminder of hours prior: a coronation fit for a fool. The inhuman laughter had echoed throughout the throne room then and rang deafening in her ears now. It was as if they’d taken the Queen of Mirth revelry to a higher, more elaborate scale. More Faerie games designed to get under her skin.

She looked the part of Queen of Elfhame, this time.

Her dress looked crafted from stars themselves, set into a gossamer black canvas that hung from her curves. It glistened and glittered with each step she took, winking constantly in the lights. Sleek black ribbons were entwined into the braids woven atop her head, peeking through walnut curls that cascaded over her shoulders. Delicate horns were crafted of hair and ribbon and bejeweled, creating a frame of sorts for the crown that fit snug atop her head.

She’d be lying if she said her breath didn’t catch when she saw the crown in Cardan’s hands. It wasn’t quite twin to his own, but indeed appeared cut from the same cloth. Silver and gold and bronze twined together, fashioned into severe branches. Crystalline jewels sparkled like moonlight, or maybe like snowfall; something entirely natural and magical all at once.

It was beautiful. It was frightening. It was hers.

She truly looked a queen. Still, it didn’t prevent the murmurs and jeers and blatant laughter that surrounded her and set her body on fire from the inside out in the worst way possible. She felt like she was the butt of a joke. No one took her seriously. Even as they watched the High King take her hand and lead her to a throne that had been fashioned for her; even as they heard Cardan pronounce her Queen of Elfhame; even as he called her his wife in front of the masses. None of it mattered.

He humiliated her in the worst way: with truth, and nothing but.

Because she was all those things. She, Jude Duarte, their mortal rule, their Queen, the wife to the High King.

And yet, she may as well have been Queen of Nothing.

His silence grated on her as she hovered over him, breathing heavily, chest panting with the frustration and embarrassment that prickled across her skin and settled deep in her soul.

“I admit,” Cardan said finally, a hand coming up to tuck an ebony ribbon behind her ear, “that I arranged this coronation knowing full well our subjects would think you a joke.”

She bared her teeth at him like the feral animal she was not; he simply lay his palm flat against her cheek. Unafraid. His skin was cool to the touch, smooth. This close, she was able to study his face. There was a new sort of wisdom in his eyes. Certainly in the time since she betrayed him and put him on this very throne, he’d grown into the role. He looked the part more often than not. His chin held high, shoulders back, steps assured: Cardan Greenbriar was more the High King than she ever imagined he could be.

“You let them laugh at me,” she accused.

“Yes.”

“You humiliated me.”

“It would appear so.”

“I hate you,” she growled.

“Tell me again how much, my darling Jude,” he said, his voice low and eyes heavy.

Jude had half a mind to smack the desire straight off his face, but instead pushed herself off from the back of his throne with every intention to retire to her chambers. She’d figure this out after getting some rest.

Before she could even take a full step, his hand caught her wrist and she found her body twisting to face him again. The momentum of the tug jostled the crown on her head, hair ribbons falling in her face. She tried to catch herself in a flurry of flailing limbs, but the hands that she’d hoped would find purchase against the back of his chair were instead planted firmly against his chest.

He was lucky she didn’t knee him in the groin in the process.

Cardan’s gaze scorched her face; she knew her cheeks were flushed and her heart beat fast against her chest, rising and falling with heavy, quick breaths. She wanted to slay her own traitorous body.

“Jude,” he said, foreign softness tainting his tongue.

Her name sounded a prayer when he said it like that, spoken with a reverence she didn’t know he was capable of. It was startling, really, and the shock of it was enough to loose a brief bit of tension in her body. He must’ve felt the slackening of her figure as it hovered over him, because he used that moment to slide a hand to the base of her spine and hold her close. She blinked, propped upon his lap with her knees on either side of his thighs. Jude opened her mouth to speak but he continued before she could manage a word.

“They’re never going to want you,” he said with all the blunt ease only a faerie could manage. “They’ll never accept you as you are.”

“As I am?” she spat out harshly, coming back to her senses. She tightened against him, but his hands kept her caged in. “And what’s that? Mortal?” The word felt dirty in her mouth, a burden and a curse no matter how she spun it.

“Mortal,” he agreed, a hand dancing up her spine. The dress she wore was cut low in the back so it wasn’t long before skin met skin. She couldn’t keep her brain from flashing back to the other times his hands ran fiery paths across her skin and a shiver passed over her. “They see a mortal girl who slept her way into a crown.”

“That’s not —”

“Prove yourself, Jude.” His hands came up to adjust the crown on her head, straightening the ornate metal workings so it sat proudly once again. Long, slender fingers brushed through the hair that fell around her shoulders. The action was decidedly intimate. His dark eyes studied her with an intensity she felt inclined to shy away from, but Jude forced herself to remain still.

How did he possess the ability to unwind her with such ease? Had all her defenses fallen in her time away?

“We showed them you look every inch a Queen, mortal or otherwise. The spectacle doesn’t hold near enough weight as is needed to convince them of your strength.” His hands trailed down her arms, featherlight touches that left goosebumps in their wake. “What I gave to you is an opportunity now to prove yourself. Make fools of them each, Jude.” His eyes sank to her heaving chest before panning back slowly up to her eyes, though not before lingering on her lips. “They will wish they never once laughed.”

His voice was like a glamour all its own, lulling her into security that frightened her. What could that mean? Prove herself. She’d spent her entire damn life doing just that. The second she was brought to Faerie it had been one trial after another. One jeer, one prank, one intimidation after another. What did Cardan think she’d been doing all these years? If anything, she needed to prove herself to him. He clearly thought so little —

“And what of you, husband?” she said in a sickly sweet voice, her hand jumping to his throat in a flash. If he was surprised by the action, he didn’t show it. “What fool are you, my king, to have been tricked by a mortal?” Jude brought herself closer, her hips shifting forward as she tilted her face to his. His body seemed to tense with heat. “What retribution can I administer against the laughs from you?”

She tightened her hand on his throat, watching as the intensity grew in his face. Cardan’s lips parted ever slightly, and she expected protest to spill from that pretty mouth of his. It never came, though. Jude took advantage of the silence, rising on her knees so her height was at a further advantage. She pressed her legs tight against him as the hand not occupied with his neck found purchase in the curling locks of raven hair. She tugged back so that his face was raised to hers.

The bastard was smirking.

“You took permanent residence in my dreams while you were gone, Jude,” Cardan managed. “Every sleep I had was occupied with your face. Indeed, often with your hands wielding some weapon or another.” At that, she desired a blade back in her possession.

His hands slid from her back down the curve of her bottom, moving along her thighs. The heat of his palms cut through the diaphanous skirt of her gown, the material far too thin to block out the feeling of his touches. She clutched her hand deeper in his hair while that at his throat slackened with a quiver as his fingers traveled back up her body. He pressed her against his torso; she could feel his beating heart against body where they lined up.

What was she doing back here?

“I wanted you to be with me. You are my wife.”

“Enough.”

“I had to do it, Jude,” Cardan pressed. “There was little else I could have decreed that would have yielded a result apart from death. Regardless of who you are to me, justice was required.”

The earnestness in his words and the knowledge that he couldn’t lie caused her stomach to twist into knots. She didn’t want to think about it. Not about who she was to him, nor his schemes that shocked and betrayed. Jude found herself not wanting to think about much of anything, for that matter.

“Shut up,” she hissed.

“You do not command me any longer,” he reminded, voice longing.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” he asked, and she couldn’t help but feel pleased that she’d shocked him. She’d gone off script, after all. It was never Jude asking for kisses, for secret shared breaths and moments where the space between them disappeared into electric nonexistence.

“I said — kiss me.”

So she did.

Or perhaps he did.

Somewhere within the sentence, their mouths came crashing together. She supposed it didn’t matter which way it started, just that it had.

Jude sank back down from her knees, no longer raised above him. Cardan took advantage of her being sat on his lap, winding his hands down to hips and urging her forward. She gasped into his mouth at the friction of the movement, a spark starting in her spine and working its way through her blood.

They were all teeth and tongues, a firestarter kind of kiss that had her breathing heavily and sparsely. She reveled in the feel of his body against her, startled by the forbidden familiarity of his touches. No thinking, she reminded herself, and closed herself off to anything that wasn’t this singular moment.

Her arms wove around his neck, tangling them together further than they had already been. Could Cardan feel how fast her heart beat, or the way her body shook in response? Jude nipped hard at his lower lip while his own hands somehow managed to find their way beneath her skirts. His smooth palms against the expanse of her calf, then thigh elicited a breathy moan as she arched her body with an instinctual desire, her heat aching for his fingers.

“Patience, Jude,” he muttered against her lips before his mouth covered hers again before she could protest that they were in a rather public throne room and was patience really of virtue here?

Cardan’s arms wound tight around her back, bracing her against him with a surprising strength as he flipped her gently beneath him. Jude let out a gasp of shock when her back hit the plush throne. He hovered near above her, a knee propped up between her legs, his fingers working with deft movements to unlace his shirt while his tongue and lips paved a fiery path down the column of her throat. He parted only brief enough to shed the frilly shirt from his body, and her darkened eyes scanned the planes of his taut chest and stomach. It was sight enough to quicken her breath, her hands shaking slightly as she reached out to touch him.

He caught her hand in his, fingers twining over her own and guiding her palm up, up, finally to his mouth where he kissed the inside of her wrist once, twice, a third time to her fingertips — painting her with an intimacy that tugged strangely at her heart.

“Cardan —” she breathed, hating how shaky and uncertain her own voice sounded.

“I missed you,” he whispered, and she caught a flash of fear in his eyes at the admittance.

She hadn’t time to ask after it, however, before he was kneeling before her. He slid her shoes from her feet before traveling his hands from her ankles, brushing her knees, slowing over her thighs. Swollen berry lips parted and chest rising heavily, Jude watched, enraptured. Her dress was pushed up around her waist in the process, something she was thankful when Cardan’s lips followed the path of his hands.

The sight of his head between her legs as he kneeled in front of her was almost too much to bear. He paused to slide her knickers down the length of her legs, his eyes raised to study her face. She whimpered when he hoisted her knees over his shoulders and her head lolled to the side when he finally lay his mouth to the spot where she ached most for him.

His fingertips pressed hard against her hips as he held her to him, his tongue working slow at first as if to tease her. It was working, certainly, her heart racing far too fast for any poor mortal as she desired something deeper, faster, more. She dug her heels into his back, trying to resist the urge to buck her hips up. As if sensing her impatience, his hands held her harder, pressing her down against the velvet cushion.

“Cardan,” she moaned, voice laced with desire.

A finger replaced his tongue, sliding into her heat with ease. He planted a wet caress to the side of her thigh before nipping the soft skin there. A high pitched noise left her lips, and he rewarded her with a second digit entering between her lips.

“Did you miss me, Jude?” he asked, his voice like gravel on her skin, his teeth grazing her thigh again.

“No,” she said quickly. A lie, perhaps? Or maybe it was more complicated than that. She wasn’t in the market for complicated thoughts at the moment, not with his fingers thrusting and curling inside of her.

And as if knowing her response for what it was, a non-truth, he rose to his full height. Her legs slipped from his shoulders and she moaned at the change in angle as his fingers continued to work their ministrations. He kissed the spot between her breasts, his mouth moving heatedly up her neck and to her ear. She shivered at the puff of breath that was released there.

“Did you miss me?” he asked again, the low timbre of his voice hitting her very core.

Jude wasn’t sure when her hand had joined his between her legs, but her fingers wrapped around his wrist and she writhed her hips, her mouth parted as another “No” escaped in a breathy moan.

Cardan slipped a third finger into her heat, and the change in pressure was heavenly enough that she jerked forward, her arm coming around his shoulders and holding onto him as if he were the last lifeline in this terrifying, twisted life she led. She rolled against his hand, eager and needing and unthinking. In a final crash, she clenched around his fingers, body shaking as she allowed the pleasure to wash over her in tumultuous waves.

He gathered her dress where it was bunched at the waist, his hands sliding to tie at the small of her back and unlacing it enough so that he could slide the gown up over her head. He was careful of the crown that sat atop her head, though the dress didn’t receive the same treatment and was instead tossed aside with no care for whether it snagged or caught on anything.

Jude didn’t care.

Their eyes met, equally heavy and desirous in the golden light of the throne room. His gaze roamed her body and she was surprised by how unaffected by embarrassment she was at the intensity. She slouched bare on his throne, and Cardan seemed positively thrilled by the notion.

He breathed heavily as his hands fell to his laces. She watched, entranced, as he pushed his breeches down his legs. It wasn’t the first time he’d been exposed to her, nor she to him, yet the effect was as heady as ever. She was frozen still, save for her panting breaths that echoed his own. His tail flicked behind him, betraying impatience before coiling around her calf. She shuddered.

Broken from her own spell, she lifted her hands to the crown at her head, making to remove it.

“Leave it,” he breathed. His hands caught her wrists and lowered her hands from the ornate headpiece that sat between unkempt braids. She looked curiously at him, question in her eyes. “You look just like in my dreams,” he added, by way of explanation.

“Oh,” she breathed lamely.

He cupped her cheeks with a gentle touch, kissing her soft on the lips. His fingers slid to the back of her neck, catching on waves of hair in the process. She was too stunned to do much other than kiss him softly back. It was in complete contrast to earlier.

He tugged her to her feet, and he stepped out of his trousers that had pooled at his angles, feet already bare having ditched his pointed silver shoes much earlier on. With a quick turn, he was sat on the throne and he pulled her to straddle him.

She rubbed against him, luxuriating in the feel of his hard length straining beneath her. He groaned at the friction she created, his lids falling heavily in response. The black-tipped tail flicked against her back with slow sweeps eliciting shivers in their wake. She kissed him harder, desiring more. Desiring him. Desiring —

“I want you,” he said. “My Jude. My wife. My queen.”

Jude nodded, moving to kiss him again but he pulled back and put a finger to her lips in pause.

“Say it.” A request, his body shaking under her.

“Yes,” she breathed. An answer to earlier questions, perhaps. Her voice shook even as she added, “I want you.”

“Again,” Cardan pleaded as she reached between their bodies.

She wrapped her fingers around him, watching his eyes darken in pleasure as she applied her own ministrations to his throbbing length. His palms left her hair, dropping to the small of her back, fingertips digging into the soft skin there. He groaned as she quickened her motions, her hand slick with his desire.

“I want you,” she said, rising to her knees and angling his cock at her entrance. Her body quaked in the anticipation, heat pulsing heavy in her core. She stared down, watching as she slid over him to join their bodies.

“Jude.”

Neither moved for a moment, reveling in the feeling that they created together within a world of passionate harmony. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, his body trembling. It was perhaps the most vulnerable, intimate thing she’d ever witnessed and all the truths she didn’t say, wouldn’t say, couldn’t decipher got caught in her throat. She wrapped her arms tight around his shoulders, holding him to her. Her fingers curled in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and his mouth lavished her collarbone with sloppy kisses.

She rolled her hips, testing the waters with a tentative air. A low, quiet moan spilled from her lips and she did it again, and again. The pressure within her was unlike anything she’d ever felt before, heat rising in her body with incredible force.

“I shouldn’t have come back —” she whispered, the words slipping out without a single thought. He raised his head to look at her before swallowing her statement in a kiss and a breath. “I shouldn’t have —” she tried again, and he nipped at her ear.

“Tell me all your pretty lies, Jude,” he whispered, thrusting his hips beneath her.

“It’s not a lie,” she shuddered, fingers grasping onto his shoulders as she met his next movement with a deep moan.

“You belong beside me.”

“Cardan,” she warned.

His hands reached her hips and she braced herself with one hand against the back of the throne while her other held onto his shoulder, fingernails digging crescent moons upon his smooth, creamy skin.

Jude moved over him with more fervor, as if she could fuck his words from existence. She couldn’t hear those things, didn’t want to. She’d gotten her hopes mixed up with reality and desire and lost so much already. Months in the mortal realm couldn’t wipe away that betrayal. She didn’t know her next move, and that didn’t frighten her nearly as much as not knowing Cardan’s.

The anger she’d felt earlier bubbled back to the surface of her emotions. She couldn’t trust his truths, the words he managed to wield like shiny new weapons. The worst of it was that he believed the things that came out of his mouth. Somehow, for some reason, he truly believed she belonged in a crown at his side. But why?

The humiliation, the embarrassment, the sound of the court’s laughter as they stared at her during the coronation —

She dug her fingernails deeper yet, her mouth crashing against his and tugging his lower lip between teeth. A metallic taste tinted with something almost flowery and decidedly Cardan hit her tongue and she knew she’d drawn blood. It pleased her, spurning her on and she rode him harder, faster, licking the taste of him off her lips.

“I hate you,” she panted. While those words sometimes hid an array of deeper emotions, in that moment, as the sounds of their bodies slapping together and his groans filled her ears and her own moans echoed throughout, Jude knew they were a perfect truth. Tell me your lies, he’d asked, but she gave him entire honesty.

She hated not knowing his intentions. She hated that she couldn’t trust him, never truly did. She hated that — she wanted to believe it all. She’d lost so much her entire life, given up whole parts of herself to become someone that would fit into this world of tricks and fears. Was it so much that she wanted to be able to let down her guard just once, to stop fighting, to stop feeling so much anger?

“Show me how much you hate me, Jude,” he prompted, voice guttural.

“Shut up, Cardan,” she hissed, placing a palm over his mouth and thus giving him little choice but to obey the command. Her other hand met his throat yet again, applying pressure enough that she supposed he might grow lightheaded though avoid harming him.

He growled, his tail tightening against her thigh, no longer flicking languid strokes in pleasure but growing taut in a climax. She felt it herself building inside, sounds pouring from her mouth as she thrust his length deeper into him, her movements now shallower and quicker and harder than they’d been until now. His own hips bucked up with intent, his palms holding her close and driving her deeper atop his cock.

She slipped her palm away from his mouth, fingers sliding to the back of his hair, tugging into the locks as she kissed the metallic taste of him so that she’d not be tempted to cry out his name as she reached her climax in one crashing moment. He hadn’t the same restraint, and her name was like a mantra as he came inside her, “JudeJudeJude.”

Her vision swam and she let out a whimpering moan as her body collapsed against his, spent. Her skin was sticky with sweat, walnut curls plastered against her neck and back. Cardan seemed not to mind as he wound his arms around her, keeping her against him as they both rode their final waves. She slouched into him, all tension gone from her limp figure.

“How do you not see it?” he whispered after their hearts began to slow back to normal, low enough that she nearly didn’t catch it.

Jude lifted her head to meet his eyes, trying to read him. She kept expression from her face as she shivered, pulling herself out of his arms and separating them with a sense of finality. He watched her move, his lean form stretched across the throne having no shame at his nudity. She noticed his lips to be painted red from her ministrations, bruises and crescent cuts along his shoulders.

She reached for her gown, slipping it back on in a hurry. The shoulder straps were twisted, one of the layers of black skirt caught in on itself. Her hair was a complete mess, no longer arranged in intricate braids and twists but rather collapsed and fallen and frizzed. She looked every bit the mess she felt, and nothing of the Queen she fancied herself at the start of this day.

“See what, Cardan?” she asked, wiping her mouth on her palm. She came away with blood — his, she presumed. She removed the crown from her head, her shoulders rising in a deep breath as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her. “Don’t you get it? This is all a game.” She threw her arms out to either side in a sweeping gesture encapsulating the whole of the throne room. “I don’t even know who’s playing anymore.” She took several steps until she stood at her shoes, slipping her toes back into them. “We’re just pawns to one another.” She paused, the crown dangling from her fingers at her side as she fixed him with a heavy stare full of too much emotion for even herself to decipher. “It’s time to cut the puppet strings, King.”

She turned on her heel, crossing the expansive throne room in silence save for the clacking of her shoes against the floors. Budding flowers settled in corners and vines crept up the walls — foliage that wasn’t there before. She resisted the urge to look back at Cardan, determined to keep any upper hand possible in a world where words were twisted and meanings hidden.  

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