#anyway one thing about me is that i am always yearning for the chance for my silly little guy to have a lil corruption

[marshmurmurs]

by anychance, do you have thoughts on lifesteal!captain sparklez? the implication drive me bonkers

i think about him a normal amount (warning)

there are two main types of rules servers can have. there are rules built into the server itself, enforced by some greater power—the widespread no flying without elytra, vh disabling multiple items and enchantments, any respawn and heart mechanics. then there are the community established rules—no flying out of combat, no enderchests in mianite

i think sparklez is not necessarily bound to any of the rules of the land. he is brought on as a god, holds far too much power for that. nobody is bound to the community established rules beyond an honor system level and the enforced rules would not apply to a god the same way it does others (if at all, who is to enforce the rules on the greater power? gods are not known to be weak. to be limited by the same things as mere mortals) but he is of balance and here to restore it, so he plays along

jordan intentionally limits himself. he follows the heart system and keeps himself from flying without an elytra even though he has wings (even as he plays at being a regular person, he is still a god. the world still responds accordingly when he falls for the first time. the sky turns red and reminds everyone of what he is)

he doesn't strictly follow the community established rules though that is mostly from a place of not being aware of them. he flies out of combat a bunch not knowing it's against the rules. when he realizes there might be a rule about it he asks and is repeatedly told by the people on his side that no it's fine for him to fly. though it still does come to a point that he starts to refuse to, even as his people tell him that he really should get himself out, he says he wants to keep in the spirit of things

he wants to keep things balanced

on that note, before the assassination and everything devolving into warfare i was so ready for my guy to go down the balance but fucked up and evil route. the way he was talking about being the authority, about stomping down any violence and disagreement? balance overcorrecting to the side of order, suffocating balance in the face of the chaos that is the kill people server

the lets death ban that guy team briefly brought up the idea of trying to corrupt the captain and i can't stop thinking bout that either. i think zam meant it in a lets get this guy to be pro murder way but i don't think he was ever against murder, just the absence of balance it was causing. murder in the name of restoring balance? violence as retribution? perfectly fine and normal. surely no slippery slope to corruption to be found here

[todosdream]

stress relief | ony

15k wrds. strangers to friends? to lovers. slow burn. angst. plot with smut. fem black oc. see the moodboard.

warnings: MNDI! lots of profanity, usage of n word, pet names, mentions of weed; smut: unprotected sex (PLS BE SAFE), edging, a spank or two, naaasty talk, degradation? more like brat-taming, dacryphilia for two seconds, ony rightfully has a bbc, begging, ony’s a talker (duh), choking? really just a hand necklace, pussydrunk ony, lowkey d/s but not explicitly mentioned

additional #: oc needs to get laid fr. kt needs her headphones. becca needs a new job. author doesn’t box. shout out mrs. etta. ony is chalanting with a girl for the first time. (and he’s vibing with it.) oc really needs to get laid. oc is a bit bratty… sorry. ony needs to get off his ass. oc is actually very bratty, damn. oh hell, oc gets laid!

“girl, I’ma be real with you… you need some dick,” crystal’s best friend tells her through her screen. kt’s giving a look, an interesting mix of pity and annoyance. her knotless braids are framing her face, mocha skin radiant as always but lashes looking quite barren. “yeah, and you need a lash refill, ho,” crystal snorts. since she’s bringing up needs and shit. it’s unfortunately been a while since they’ve hung out, kt now visiting family in colorado for about a week.

being the type of friends they are, the both of them have no issue communicating through tiktoks and sending pictures of silly things. just yesterday kt sent a picture of herself holding up a peace sign with a joint between her lips. she stood next to a 'no smoking' sign, the ‘no’ smudged. she thought she was just so clever. crys in return sent a saved picture of an unimpressed squidward, a typical exchange between the two goofballs.

“yeah, okay, ho. I’m just saying. maybe you’d be a little nicer to me if you got some,” she rolls her eyes, giving yzma. her rescheduled lash appointment can’t come quick enough. “says the girl getting some every day and still being mean to me,” crys scoffs.

kt’s living with her boyfriend, expecting his title to change to fiance after feeling a certain anticipatory energy from the man. her time consists of working and chatting with friends, and being with and posting videos with her partner. crys, however, explores her free time in many ways. picking up hobbies that have about a 50% chance of sticking, trying different restaurants, teaching her dog funny tricks, and the occasional friend hangout. it’s friday night and she’s doing her own nails just for the hell of it. although the uninhibited girl’s words trigger an automatic negative response, crys knows why she’s speaking them. when the phone call ends, kt will turn over and cuddle up to her man, maybe ‘get her shit rocked’ as she likes to so delicately put it. crys, however, will be left with her dog, her empty home and bed, and whichever toy she vibes with for the night.

she likes being alone, it’s an accomplishment for her to feel confident and comfortable being single after wasting her time with people that don’t care, men that don’t even actually like her. but when it’s all said and done, people are meant for connection. of course platonic, family, community… but that pull? that yearning? it can’t be replicated, no matter how many times she rewatches bridgerton or insecure.

it’s been a while since she just let go with anyone other than those already close to her. the last time she let someone new in, he showed her exactly why ‘niggas ain’t shit’ is such a popular phrase. it was a situation that didn’t make any sense, and in retrospect, she cringes. the embarrassment, the useless attempts at communication, the settling… never again. however, that’s a part of her life that’s being fully neglected. no dates, no late night rendezvous, no flirting, no sex.

one word: cobwebs.

“why are you more worried about my coochie than I am, anyway?” crys jokes as she fixes her gel polish, deflecting the conversation. it’s not something she wants to discuss or harp on. that’s just life for her right now. she’s tired of people wasting her time, so she became unavailable. simple. plus, she knows kt’s nosy ass man is lying next to her and listening because that girl never wears her damn airpods. “you think that’s an insult? girl. that only makes you look bad, not me,” she sasses. crys hears a soft snicker in the background. “oh, fuck you,” the girl mumbles in response. “and will you please put headphones on the next time you decide to go talkin’ bout my coochie? cause I’ll happily tell all those stories about yours, pimp.”

“stories?” crys hears in the background of the call. “ain’t no way she just called you that. what the hell that mean, crystal?” the bestie purses her lips and squints at crys. she watches as the brown skinned girl tilts her head, making her curls flop to the side with a ‘gotcha’ look. “I know where you live, you know that, fo’head? have a good night with your vibrator, ho,” she speaks lowly. shuffles are heard as she drops the phone onto the duvet next to her. “she don’t mean that, pookie, she’s just all pent up.” kt’s middle finger is all that’s visible on the screen before the phone echos a tone a few times, indicating the end of the call. crys snorts in response and sits her phone to the side. she sighs, looking over her nails for any imperfections as her mind echoes her words.

she wouldn’t be opposed to a night in the sheets. it’d be nice to dust off the cobwebs. get some head, maybe get her shit rocked like she hasn’t had in a while. part of her wants the slow and sensual, romantic sex with someone special. the kind of sex that touches her soul, that you can feel on every level. the other part… well. that part stays right in the cage where it belongs. that part likes to drown in frisky pleasure even if the one giving it is a life source draining leech.

it’s normal to want pleasure, it’s human. but the thought of all the bullshit that comes with dealing with another human, let alone a man in this day and age is enough to make her reconsider taking that step. so like usual, she brushes the words off and refocuses on her spa day so that she can be at her best for the work week.

ᥫ᭡

despite her best efforts, the next week is particularly irritating. mercury must be doing her shit, maybe all the damn planets, because so many people have had wack ass attitudes and it’s rubbed crys wrong. terrible interactions with customers, coworkers called out and left her in a busy store with little help, and she broke a nail doing something very much so not in her job description. on top of that, the amount of random things outside of her control that have gone haywire is deeply irritating. her tv crapped out and decided to just stop working out of nowhere, her wifi is out for local renovations, and her trash can is missing.

again.

it’s a wonder she hasn’t either had some type of crash out or just cashed in her pto for a fucking break. instead, she decides to get dressed for the gym and puts on a purple workout set. if she wants to be cute and sweaty she damn well will be. she grabs her favorite gym shoes and her essentials. she leaves her curls alone for now, but takes a scrunchie to put it up later. when she gets to the gym at a completely different time than she’s used to, it’s practically empty, save for a young and obviously bored receptionist that’s glued to her phone and a middle aged woman power walking into her destiny.

seriously, crys will have some of what she’s having. the woman is on fire.

sighing to herself, the frazzled girl goes to scan her member qr code, only for the damn scanner to decide to stop working. the blonde receptionist behind the desk sighs as if doing her job is the last thing she wants to do. crys usually wouldn’t blame her for that, but the way she’s popping her gum has the curly headed girl imagining a modern re-enactment of that one scene from that madea movie. the receptionist seems to be in absolutely no rush to fix the scanner, completely oblivious to the metaphorical cloud over crys’ head that’s growing by the minute. she fights the urge to furrow her brows and take a week’s worth of irritation out on the worker, deciding to take a deep breath instead.

the brief look up that the girl gives in response has her immediately regretting her decision.

before she can even think of something to say, the door opens behind her. she’s in no mood to look at the person, figuring they’ll both be waiting in line. she doesn’t want to seem open to small talk because she’s just not. however, the receptionist— becca, her nametag reads— looks up like the sun just graced the sky for the first time in centuries. she stands up straighter, obviously trying to make herself look like she’s doing the job that she’s been failing at, and calls over crys’ shoulder. “hey, ony, technical difficulties. you’re free to go ahead you don’t have to wait, I can check you in once this is fixed,” she smiles. that lucky bastard. it’s the first smile on her face in the entire time the bristling girl has been there. crys swears if this was a cartoon scene, the blonde girl would be fluttering her lashes with hearts in her eyes.

there’s a deep chuckle from behind. “thanks, becca. they should give you a raise,” a low, raspy voice responds. crys’ eye twitches. the hell they should, she thinks. hand me the damn performance review form cause I got shit to say. becca, now looking as if she’s on cloud nine, waves him off dismissively. “just doing my job. leg day?” she questions, trying to sound as casual as possible and not like her drool is threatening to ruin the damn scanner beyond repair. “mhm,” the stranger hums. “nice kicks,” he mumbles.

crys is too busy zoning out and imagining herself tap dancing on the broken pieces of the scanner to realize that he’s talking to her. the way becca’s eyes shift gets her attention. “oh. uh, thanks,” she murmurs, looking up. all she sees is a muscular back walking towards the men’s locker room. she doesn’t have time to look him over because ms. becca decides she actually can do her job and calls out to her that the scanner is fixed.

it just needed to be plugged up again.

ain’t no fuckin’ way.

becca doesn’t even seem embarrassed. she’s holding the scanner lazily and looking around, probably for that ony guy. the blonde doesn’t realize that crys is holding her phone out, and she’s still popping that damn gum. instead of saying something to the girl like she really wants to, she grabs the scanner from the “worker” to check her damn self in and quickly heads to the locker room. the girl doesn’t deserve her week’s worth of anger.

after some time, she’s finally out on the floor to stretch out. soon after the warm up, she’s at the punching bag. it’s not her usual choice of workout, but she took classes when she was younger and knows it’s a great way to release all that irritation from the week in a more physical outlet.

crys quickly wraps her hands and soon she’s throwing punches and listening to rico nasty, an artist who has several tracks on her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist. she gets into her groove, trying to remember the important tips from the classes she attended years ago. it’s hard to recall all the basics, but she gives it her best shot. not too long after, she notices a shadow of someone’s frame behind her. it must be that lucky asshole from earlier, probably here to be a bother. or maybe becca decided to do her job and came to tell her to move her bag off the floor. she sighs, taking out her headphones and turning to look. it’s the stranger. the man’s arms are crossed as he watches, showing his sleeves of tattoos.

crys wishes she could say he was ugly, but he’s definitely not. he’s fine as fuck, actually. his skin is dark and healthy, making him look like he actually has a skincare routine and not just 100-in-one soap. he has an athletic build visible even through his clothes that makes her want to drool like dear old becca. he’s tall, maybe 6’4 or 6’5, so she has to look up at him, even being on the taller side herself. his black durag matches his all black workout fit and she wonders what exactly lies underneath considering the size of his arms.

his demeanor is calm and steady, confident in a way that’s quiet, as opposed to many other gym bros™. his face is calm and there’s barely any tension in his body. crys thinks she’d like to make him bothered, just to get a rise. see if he’ll hold ip or bite back. but no, that’s rude, and she doesn’t know this man at all. his eyes are looking at her intently, and she despises how beautiful they are. why do men get to have natural lashes that look like that? it’s not fair she has to get extensions when his are so long with an almost perfect curl. and the color of his eyes make it worse, the light brown contrasting his dark skin so prettily. and his lips? full, perfect for kissing, among other things.

lucky bastard.

“you gone bite my head off if I suggest how to fix your form?” he asks with a simple raise of his brow.

ᥫ᭡

ony’s a hardworking man. he likes to handle business but have some fun on the side too. he’s chill. everyone would describe him as that. he’s the levelheaded friend, usually the calm in a storm, and not one to be all over the place physically, mentally, or emotionally. he’s a steady beat and he likes it that way. life is peaceful and secure, challenging in certain ways, but calm in others. he has a good paying job as a personal trainer, proper work life balance, and a good head on his shoulders. he doesn’t do too much, honestly, but that doesn’t mean that his life doesn’t have some interesting twists and turns. his boys always seem to need rescuing in some form, sisters all a whirlwind of their own. his mom is always a source of entertainment, although his dad is much like himself. he likes his life, simple as that.

but things have been becoming monotonous lately. his clients aren’t having any interesting developments and his social life is steady but uninteresting overall. his family group chat is going through a quiet spell and his boys are actually not up to anything stupid like they somehow always are. he’s been particularly unfulfilled by the game and there’s no sport he wants to keep up with as of late. it’s all kind of… blah. he’s grateful that nothing’s going wrong. he could be having a bad week as opposed to a boring one, but he aches for a spark, something different to bring a bit more color to his life. maybe he should get a pet? maybe some little fish couldn’t hurt. he thinks over the new idea while he follows his usual routine to pack up and leave for the gym.

and then he sees crys.

he notices her form as she stands at the check in desk, interest piqued. he’s never seen her before, and he comes to this gym at least five nights a week. he knows names and faces, especially since there’s usually no more than five people when he comes. her figure catches and keeps his eye, his gaze taking in the woman’s long legs, thick thighs, and plump ass, seeing how her afro falls around her shoulders. his excuse for where his gaze is centered is that it’s all he can see from where he’s standing, but it’s not much of an excuse. she’s just fine as hell. her workout fit is cute and colorful, contrasting his dark and bland one. her hand is in on her hip that’s popped out, accentuating her form.

his interest is definitely piqued.

he gets to see more of her when he comes around to speak to becca. pretty almond eyes, soft looking lips, the bottom currently being chewed with vigor. she’s beautiful… but one look at her profile and the flames in her eyes tell him all he needs to know: look the other way. ony grew up surrounded by strong black women in his life, his mom, sisters, aunts, cousins… learning to read body language and— well, the room, was something he learned quickly and he’s applied that lesson everywhere in life. everything about her body language and that cute, barely contained frown screams bad day. so he greets becca— who’s really a sweet girl, just unbothered— compliments her shoes, and moves on about his routine.

it’s like clockwork. he puts his stuff away, makes sure his chain is safe and secure, fills his water bottle, waves at mrs. etta on the treadmill, stretches, locks in, and gets the workout started.

he’s getting into his mode and enveloping himself in the feel of the workout, but he can’t help the way his eyes are pulled back to crys. the way she stretches, the way she adorably bobs her head to the seemingly… aggressive? music. she’s gorgeous and new, which has him feeling like every routine move he makes is just a little different. her and her angry pout and her curves and her curls…

she approachs a punching bag, which ony can admit he didn’t expect. the outfit convinced him she’d be power walking with mrs. etta, or doing pilates in the corner. his mom always told him what assuming does to someone, though. he looks away as he tries to focus on anything other than her. he counts his reps like usual, trying to submerge himself in his music. it doesn’t work. as soon as she takes her first swing, his eyes are back on her, taking notice of how she punches.

hm.

he can see she knows a bit more than someone just randomly choosing to throw a few hits, but he isn’t fond of some of the habits she has that could actually hurt in the long run. he debates approaching, but he’s always been one to help others in the gym. attitude be damned, he’s a personal trainer. he knows the importance of doing things correctly. after watching for a while, he decides to walk over. he knows that if she doesn’t fix her punch, she’ll be angry all over again tomorrow because of sore wrists. she turns, obviously annoyed, but he’s not scared. she looks him up and down, her facial expression barely shifting. he wonders what she’s thinking, wants to hear her voice. when she finally looks up at him with those eyes, he almost tilts his head.

how can someone be so fuckin’ pretty?

she’s a vision with her bare face. eyes he could get lost in, features he wants to admire for moments on end. he would actually guess that she’s quite sweet behind the haze of her frustration. obviously a multifaceted person, and he’s interested in the idea of learning all those facets. who she is, maybe what she likes, what she doesn’t like. maybe even what makes her happy, what would put a smile on the adorably scrunched up face. for some reason, he wants to see that happy expression. actually, as a matter of fact, he wants to see all her expressions. smiling, confused, relaxed, aroused. she’s caught him with a simple gaze and he’s confused about it.

“you actually know what you’re doing?” she asks. it’s not meant to be a jab, truthfully. she’s been hit on by guys that try to “help” just to flirt, but ultimately make a fool of themselves— and her for giving them the opportunity. she doesn’t have the patience for it today, it in fact might be the straw that breaks her back. she can see amusement tickle at his expression, but no signs of him being offended.

because he’s not. he can tell she isn’t asking in a facetious way, she just seems… tired. like she doesn’t want her time wasted. he can respect that. “I promise you, I do,” he says with a slight smile. just a little one, unable to contain his utter enjoyment in her sass, and still having that almost sickening feeling of attraction.

crys hums, her gaze sweeping over him again briefly, taking in his calm but confident demeanor. the little smile on his face is lowkey pissing her off, but she has enough sense to know it’s because she has a lot of stress to work out. he’s fine as hell and now’s really not the time for all that. even still, he’s bold to come over with the metaphorical storm still rolling above her head. bold… or stupid. who walks towards a burning house? but she knows if he could tell her form was off from so far, she could really be messing herself up with how she’s going at the punching bag. she wants to just kick and punch it randomly, similar to what her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist suggests, but she knows that’s no good. and again, he’s fine as hell.

all the same, she’s still irritated and frustration-filled. “sure, yeah,” she mumbles as she turns back to the bag.

ony’s quite intrigued, interestingly enough. he knows a person close to the brink when he sees one. he can see the irritation in her eyes and in the way her shoulders are set. her movements are stiff and her brows are still pinched, gorgeous even with the possibly dangerous amount of upset toiling in her. despite her tense demeanor, he can tell she’s still at least trying to be respectful. and he appreciates it.

“what’s your name?” he asks, shifting to stand next to her. she’s staring at the bag, itching to just punch. “crys,” she answers, sparing him a glance as she fixes the wrapping on her hands. she’s pulling it tight, her movements swift. she can feel him watching her intently and she doesn’t know how she feels about it.

he nods. “ony. I’m no expert but I can share a few tips to keep you from gettin’ hurt. mind if I touch you?” he asks, the question second nature from dealing with his clients. he knows better than to start without given permission, and he definitely knows he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of her irritation. “s’fine,” she answers, ignoring the very inappropriate response that her brain comes up with. not now, brain. nasty ass. she really just wants him to hurry up so she can go back to punching, but she supposes she can hold back for a few more minutes if it’s him that’s going to touch her. plus it’s important to do it right, and even through her upset she knows that and is grateful for his help. if he could just be a little faster, though, that’d be wonderful.

he approaches, gently taking her hand in his as he unwraps her binding. “it’s a good wrap, but they shouldn’t be too tight. you gone hurt yourself that way,” he mumbles. his hands move slowly, demonstrating to her as he explains. it’s not in the show off-y way she expected, but direct and intentional instead. she’s glad he’s helping but a part of her is focused a bit too much on how his hands feel, how calming his voice is. “you should be able to spread your fingers. this’ll save your wrists and then some, yeah?” he murmurs, gently tapping her hand. still upset, she hates how soothing the contact is. she doesn’t need soothing, she needs violence.

that… might be dramatic. she knows it. but the week’s frustrations have all built to this moment and she plans to take full advantage of the punching bag in front of her. if he doesn’t pick up the pace, he might just take its place, handsome or not. “gotcha,” she mutters. “can I hit the bag now?” ony chuckles, and she’s mad that she really likes the sound. “sure. do a couple jabs.”

she takes a deep breath, her focus zoning on the bag. his presence fades slightly as she begins going at it, a bit overzealous. he lets her take a few punches, seeing how she obviously needs it. his gaze sweeps her form, watching her hips swivel slightly as she swings. her hits start with a decently healthy form, but the more she gets into it, ony can tell her focus is slipping. “okay, hold,” he murmurs. she doesn’t hear him and continues punching. her breathing is picking up and the cute scrunch between her brows is deepening. “hold,” he says louder, getting her attention. she huffs and raises out of her stance, blowing a stray out of her face. she steps forward and holds the bag to stop its movements, looking over at him.

ony could almost laugh at the way the curl flops right back into place. swears he could almost see her eyebrow twitch. damn, who pissed her off? “you got some good habits and some bad habits,” he mumbles, standing parallel to her now. “need to swing your hips more, not push through your arm. pop the bag, don’t push your punch.” he moves slowly as he speaks, demonstrating his words with his movements. it’s easy to follow, but his muscles are stealing the show, to crys’ dismay. “I was doing that,” she mumbles in response because she indeed was. “mhm, at the beginning. the more you put in, the less you focus on your form,” he says as he returns to his earlier position, arms crossed. “go again,” he nods. “bossy,” she mumbles. she likes it. he’s giving proper tips and doesn’t really care about her attitude, seeming unaffected.

ony chuckles, seemingly knowing there’s no actual anger in her tone, at least not completely directed at him. crys supposes he’s right. when she gets in the flow, her mind focuses less on her form and more on the happenings of the week. she definitely could’ve weakened her stance, and his words bring memories of her previous instructor. he might not be an expert, but he knows what he’s saying for sure. she gets back into her stance and takes a few more hits, more focused on her form this time around. she can’t quite lose herself to the exercise with the newfound focus, and she doesn’t like it. “better,” ony calls out. “keep goin’.” so she does. she follows his instructions to a t, feeling a bit more comfortable with the continued form as she practices.

“nice, real nice,” he murmurs, shifting to hold the bag from behind. he notices the hesitation in her movements as she focuses on her form. “come on,” his deep voice encourages. “where that fire go, huh? tellin’ me you can’t fight and focus?” crys, probably feeling goaded, looks up to him for a moment. ony could laugh again at the look in her eyes, but he doesn’t. “don’t look at me, look at the bag. you mad, I know it. let it out,” he nods his head to the bag in his hands. he doesn’t have to tell her twice. she starts to hit with more vigor, putting more into her punches. “mhm, yeah. control that shit, stay tight. swivel your— there you go, exactly,” he encourages. she’s picking it up, movements smoother and becoming more confident by the minute.

shit’s sexy as fuck.

crys is actually starting to fuck with him more, feeling herself in the workout. the way he’s talking is having an affect on her, and she knows she’ll be thinking back on this very moment tonight. his voice is deep, and slightly raspy as she keeps at it, and the encouraging makes her wonder if he’s like that in… different circumstances. she can feel her breath picking up for several reasons. “had you mad as fuck, huh? had you fucked up?” ony questions, pushing her a bit more. “let that shit out, ma. ain’t doin’ you no good to hold it in.” they both know that he’s telling the truth. she was just about bursting at the seams and his encouragement is helping her tap back into that. she punches harder, small grunts falling from her lips. the week’s frustrations are pouring out of her now and she’s pushing herself so that she can get him out of her head.

the way he’s talking to her in her amped up state just shouldn’t be legal. she’s pretty sure he’s the type to talk his girl through it, probably tease and taunt to get a reaction. damn, she needs to get laid. “form,” he reminds as her focus slips. she gives a quick nod, readjusting herself quickly before taking another shot. ony likes how quickly she responds to his guidance. “hell yeah, you got that shit. keep goin’, mama. ain’t nobody fuckin’ with you, that’s for damn sure.”

damn his fine ass with his deep voice and his face and his pet name.

she keeps going until every ounce of upset is drained, listening to his encouragement and occasional shit talking at a particularly weak punch or slip of focus. she’ll be honest, she feels good. great, actually. she feels as if she actually knows what she’s doing, confident in her moves. the upset has trickled away, but its absence is leaving too much space to think about the man in front of her. his fine ass is pushing her in the way she likes and needs, encouraging but taunting just the way she likes it.

after several more minutes, she steps back, panting. “killed that shit,’ ony mumbles, double tapping the bag. she really did, the difference between her earlier attempts and now is stark. and all because of just a few pointers. he watches as she catches her breath and unwraps her hands. “you done?” he questions. he wasn’t expecting her to finish so soon, she was just getting in her groove. he was honestly expecting a few more rounds.

“yeah,” crys answers as she nods. “thanks for your help, really. just needed to blow off some steam.” feeling better now, she decides that she should finish out with her regular workout. the less angry she is, the more she focuses on that damn smirk on his face, the way his muscles move with each shift of his body, the birthmark she’s spotted on his jaw. she’s trying hard to resist the pull she feels as she catches her breath. she gets another chuckle from ony. “could tell. I almost didn’t even come over. bad day?”

crys gives a sheepish smile, sliding her wrap in her bag. ony likes the smile a lot, but he wants more. “my bad. bad week, actually,” the woman responds. ony shakes his head, uncrossing his arms. “no harm, I get it,” he responds. and he really does, most of the time people’s attitudes really have nothing to do with you. “you should keep at it though, you got good form. at least when you’re focused. with some more practice, you could easily make it muscle memory.” and I’d like to see you more, he thinks. crys smiles and nods. “think I will. thanks again for your help, woulda been pissed if I hurt myself.”

ony’s eyes trail over her features. with the metaphorical cloud gone, she’s shining brighter. her smile is gorgeous, revealing a small gap in her teeth and a crinkle by her eyes. yeah. fuckin’ beautiful. “course. can’t have you gettin’ mad again, yeah?” he laughs, the sound deep as it rumbles from his chest. crys playfully rolls her eyes. “whatever, ony. actin’ like I’m godzilla or something. you can gone back to your workout.”

the two separate, continuing their sessions. but their eyes continuously meet as they sneak glances at each other and they exchange flirty quips. crys questions the amount of weight ony chooses for his sets, teasing that she’d thought he’d lift more. ony calls her out for a weak rep, telling her she should start over for half-assing. they just can’t seem to get enough of each other, teasing and poking at one another like crushing kids in school.

crys is definitely eating their interactions up. he’s fun in a way that isn’t childish, regardless of how he makes her almost giddy like a teenage girl. he’s not afraid to go along with a joke, but it’s obvious he’s not one to be messed with. no matter how many shots she takes, no matter how much she teases, he never breaks a sweat. it’s almost as if he’s welcoming the challenge and crys is more than willing to indulge.

ony likes her fire. it’s invigorating and it keeps him on his toes. he’s used to women being like becca— fawning, overly sweet, and obviously interested. the push and tug he gets from crys is different, and he’s enjoying every interaction, every tease, every glance at that ass. she just draws him in and he can’t get enough. where the hell has she been and why are they just now meeting? he could’ve shown her a lot more than boxing tips by now.

for her cool down, crys decides that since the gym is pretty much empty, she can take some extra time to do some yoga and meditation. she zones in and takes a plethora of deep breaths, regulating her nervous system and releasing tension. grounding herself in the present moment and releasing stress, anxiety, and frustration. it definitely helps as a follow up to the punching bag. she’s always appreciated how centered she feels after even just a few minutes of reconnecting with herself, tending to her mind, heart, and soul and not just her body. she should definitely do yoga often to stay balanced, but shoulda woulda coulda.

the second she starts to stretch, ony’s eyes are stuck on her like glue. she stretches for a long time, he notices. it seems like some type of meditation, the way she holds her hands together and closes her eyes, highly focused as she takes deep breaths almost audible where he stands. it’s interesting how he can notice the shift she makes from her earlier demeanor. she’s much calmer, locked in in a way unexpected to him. of course he knows how to calm himself, how to regulate. but those stretches… not only is he sure he could never replicate them due to lack of flexibility, but he can see the intention in each move, seemingly in each muscle and breath.

it’s weird to him how pulled he feels in her direction. he just wants to know her and is curious if she’d give him the chance. and of course he wants to know her body too… he could definitely help her relieve a lot of that stress. over and over again. probably until she couldn’t take anymore. something about her just keeps pulling him back in. maybe he’s just interested in her newness with his life currently feeling a bit more dull, but he knows he’d be just as interested if it wasn’t. she has spice, a good sense of humor, sweetness, she’s undoubtedly beautiful with all her little quirks, and that ass is the kind that a man would go to war for.

seriously.

especially with the way she’s sitting and stretching with her legs wide, chest flush against the floor. it’s making ony have thoughts, and a lot of them. after a while of being unable to stop looking, he decides to walk over. he stands above her with his arms crossed, head tilting as he looks down at her. “how the hell you even doin’ allat?” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself. and what else can she do? he wonders.

crys laughs in response, still enjoying the feel of the stretch. “I do it often. years of youtube videos, I guess,” she responds. she raises, intentionally moving slow for the practice. it’s just a bonus that she can feel his eyes on her ass. “sit down,” she grins, looking up at him with mischief in her eyes. he had his turn helping her, and now she’s going to do the same. whether he likes it or not. plus, it’d be real nice to spend some more time with him. she likes his presence and his laugh and his little jokes. his looks, his demeanor, the way he’s not scared when she nips at him instead either remains unaffected or nips right back… kind of everything about him, so far at least. “huh?” he asks, eyebrows raising. “nigga, if you can ‘huh’ you can hear. sit down and stretch with me,” she laughs.

ony likes the sound. a lot, he realizes. and her sass really tickles him. so why not? he shrugs, plopping down on the floor next to her.

“yoga’s more than stretchin’,” she begins. “yeah, it feels good for the body, but it’s good for the mind too. it’s a lot deeper than I can explain. it’s one of those things that’s been taken from another culture and kinda wiped of its authenticity.” he watches her as she talks with her hands, her caring a lot more about it than he expected. but he’s interested and following along with her words. “I try to respect it, y’know? it has a lot of benefits. can I touch?” she asks with a tilt of her head. he appreciates how her curls bounce with the movement and gives a simple nod of his head. “sit up straight,” she adjusts his back. “and keep your focus on your breath, keeping an awareness of your body as well. stay mindful of the present moment.”

the moment her hand touches him, he sits up. not because of her words but because of the feel of her hands on him. she’s gentle with her guidance, her touch almost hesitant and her voice has softened in a way that sends a slight chill down his spine. “sorry, are my hands cold?” she asks apologetically. “as fuck,” he answers with a laugh. “keep goin’ though.” crys laughs and pinches him softly. “aht, aht, I’m the teacher now, I give the directions. straighten out your legs.” ony rolls his eyes in response but follows her instruction. he mumbles a soft “yeah, aight.”

she gently bumps her shoulder against his at his sass. “lean forward and reach for your feet, curving your back. take a moment to center yourself, focusing on your breath and how your body feels. don’t think about anything, not even me,” she teases slightly. ony can’t help but smile at that. “you make it difficult, sweetheart,” he mumbles. her stomach flutters in response. he takes a deep breath before closing his eyes, reaching for his feet. “don’t forget to breath, nice and deep. relax your mind and let your thoughts fade away,” she mutters softly. “relax. really feel the peace and the stretch.”

oh, ony feels something, alright. but he focuses his mind on the way his muscles feel. he’s used to stretching, but the mental part has never been the most important aspect. he likes how quiet his mind is, how the peace envelopes him like a warm hug.

she guides him through several more positions, helping him to stay centered mentally. her voice is so soothing, her touch as she adjusts him doing things to him. he feels good. really good. the combination of the practice with her presence is something he intends to make sure he gets more of. she’s so cute with her little chides. a “stretch deeper, ony” here, a “you’re not even trying” there. and her obvious favorite, “you know you can do better than that”. actually, no, her favorite thing to say in reprimand is his name. it’s a pleasant hint of flirting and teasing mixed with gentle guidance and words of calm.

by the end of the night, ony’s hooked. before she can walk to the locker room, he gently grabs her wrist to get her attention. “hey, wait, ma,” he murmurs softly. she looks up at him with those eyes again and he’s suddenly parched. “can I get your number? you know, I can send you some boxing tips.” crys tries to fight a smile but fails. “oh, really? boxing tips? sure, long as I can send some yoga tips.” he laughs a bit, smiling at her tone. “yeah, send ‘em. gotta be on my namaste more, shit was nice.” crys tilts her head back slightly as she laughs. “boy, whatever. here.”

ᥫ᭡

crys is folding. real bad.

at first, she thought she’d just do some light flirting, maybe just tease and taunt and go on about her merry way. she didn’t have any intentions on really following through with the man because he just seems like a threat to her safe, protected little bubble of diy nails and chilling alone at home. but as time goes on, she realizes that she’s in a quicksand situation. swapped informational videos of boxing and yoga are just the beginning. soon, they’re texting back and forth. funny videos sent at way too late at night, a range of questions exchanged as they get to know each other, random voice messages that make her stomach tingle… she looks forward to speaking with him, even changes his text tone so she knows when it’s him.

he’s just so funny in such a simple, straightforward way. sometimes she bites at him and he doesn’t budge a bit, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction. sometimes they go back and forth like a tennis match. he’s not afraid of her sass and she loves when he actually bites back. he’s just… attractive. in a lot of ways, on so many different levels. she ends up going to the gym late more often because he’ll be there, spotting her while she lifts and helping her with her boxing. ms. becca at the front desk seems to really not like it, but her non-working ass can move on somewhere. crys and ony start a routine that whenever she comes to work out with him, they grab food and sit in one of their cars to goof around. they even decide to power walk with mrs. etta every now and then.

it’s insanity to kt, though. she doesn’t understand why they haven’t ‘fucked each other like bunnies’ already and she reminds crys every time they talk. they’d scrolled his instagram together several times and he’s a popular topic between the two of them, three including kt’s boyfriend. he, of course, has a front row seat to these conversations since ms. kt never wants to use her damn headphones.

one particular night, crys is just really not feeling the workout. she’s more tired than usual and ony can tell. she’s not her usual, witty self. not a single jab has any bite to it, and it’s the same with her words. he doesn’t like it. she’s not supposed to be quiet or sad. he doesn’t like the distant look in her eyes and how she gives a weak smile at his teasing. “hey,” he murmurs. “go get changed and get your stuff.” he watches as she looks up at him with a furrowed brow. “you’re obviously not feelin’ up to it. we’ve done enough, let’s grab sum to eat.”

crys was going to push through, get her workout regardless. “nah, I’m good,” she shrugs him off. “no, you ain’t. quit playin’, it’s not a suggestion,” he grumbles back. that surprises her, but she guesses it shouldn’t really. one thing that she’s noticed is how good he is at reading people, and he’s really good at reading her now. he knows when to push, and has learned how to in several different circumstances. she guesses this is one of them. his tone is different than usual though. it’s set, no room for negotiations, no joking around. his eyes are focused and sharp in a way that almost even she doesn’t want to argue with. “…right. yeah, okay. I can go by myself though, you can finish your workout,” she mutters softly.

“what I say?”

crys didn’t need to be told again. his whole demeanor is looking more immovable than ever, eyes and tone telling her to get her ass to the locker room, basically. if it were anyone else, she would’ve fired back and asked who the hell he thought he was. but at this point, she’s too tired and she really doesn’t want to poke the bear. so she sighs and nods, grabbing her bag as she shuffles back to the locker room to get her stuff. she’s grateful, honestly, because as soon as she sits in the passenger seat of his car, she feels like she’s been hit by a bus but it’s really just a wave of exhaustion.

“you pushin’ too hard, ma,” he murmurs, his eyes on the road as he drives. he’s seen her energy decreasing over time, the spark in her eyes dimming. he’d slide a comment in or two about taking a break only for her to brush it off like it was no problem. she’s stubborn and he knows that, but fully capable of taking care of herself, which is why he wasn’t expecting it to get this far. she’s drained and he’ll be damned if he just stands by and watches her continue down this path. especially with the way her head is leaning against his window. usually he’d say something about her hair products getting on it, but he couldn’t give a damn about that.

“you been slackin’ and you know it. wassup?” he questions as he spares her a glance. she sighs, her eyes closing as he makes the familiar trip to their usual spot. “stress. I’ve just been stressed,” she answers. that much he could tell. it’s not really the information he’s looking for though. “mhm. why?” he presses. his voice is a mix of tenderness and concern but also firmness. he’s not going to let her brush this under the rug. “just a lot of shit goin’ on, ony. work’s a mess, they can barely do anything without me there they’re always arguing and never getting anything done. I’ve been looking for another job for months with no luck and it’s really starting to become a problem because I want to leave soon. and I don’t know, I just want to be in a different situation than I am right now.”

ony hums, rolling her words over in his head. he knows she’s been trying to leave her job, even sent her resume out to a few people he knows just to help out. he can understand her frustration, he was in a similar boat before he started his own thing and became a personal trainer. he gets it, the stress from working in a place that drains you and how so many job rejections can affect a person. “it’s alright, ma. I know that don’t mean much to you right now, but it’s gone work out, aight? I’ll put some pressure on my folks, help see what’s out there. you still got some pto right?” he asks. she sighs, rubbing her forehead. “yeah, but I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.” he could almost chuckle.

“it don’t seem like it’s rainin’ to you?” he pushes slightly. “take some time off. rest and relax so you can come back better. do yo yoga and shit, smoke some, whatever. you need a break, babygirl. no positive change is gonna come from you stressin’ and burnin’ out. it’s a three day weekend coming up, take the couple days before that off too.” she looks out the window as they pull into the drive thru. he’s right and she knows it. it’s just so easy for her to get swept up into the stress and lose herself a little bit more and more until she realizes just how close she is to burning out. she can feel tears gathering in her eyes from the stress.

“oh, pretty girl,” he mumbles, seeing the emotion in her eyes. he pulls off to the side and parks in the back of the lot instead of getting in line. “c’mere, crystal,” he croons, reaching an arm around her to pull her close. she sniffles and her shoulders shake as she cries into his shoulder, letting out what she’s let build up for so long. “s’okay, ma. you really doin’ good shit, providin’ for yourself and workin’ hard. it’s gonna work out, you gotta believe that,” he presses, squeezing her tighter. “but you can’t do this, okay? you can’t wither away like this. your health is important and if you neglect it, it’ll affect everything. I don’t like seein’ you upset and tired and drained. wanna see that pretty smile, get a taste of that sass that irks me so much.” she laughs slightly in his arms, her own wrapping around him as he gives her the most comforting hug she’s had in a while. “you’re right or whatever. big headed ass,” she mumbles.

“there she is.”

ᥫ᭡

after that night, she did exactly what he suggested. she took those extra days off and just recovered. smoked, slept a whole bunch, had a self-care day, and even booked a massage just for an extra treat. of course she talked ony’s ear off, and texted him and her best friend a bunch too, but it was necessary in her eyes. she knows they love her presence, even if they call her annoying. by her last day off, she feels rejuvenated.

she feels less stressed. she has a revamped resume, a mini twist out that’s cute and lets her leave her hair alone, new nails, and a new attitude. but… crys is running out of excuses to give as far as her and ony. his support that night meant more to her than he probably even knew. the way he held her, calmed her down, and comforted her… it’s something that’s been plaguing dancing in her mind. he’s shown that he can handle her full range of emotions no problem and can support her regardless of how strongly she feels. at this point, even she’s started to wonder why they haven’t done anything. she hasn’t made a move, no, but neither has he. he seems perfectly content with the way things are and is starting to become bothersome.

she can’t get him out of her head. his voice, his laugh, his features. every time he encourages her while she’s going at the punching bag, she wants to push the damn thing out of the way and just tackle him. when she can feel his eyes on her while they stretch, she wants to show him exactly what she can do and how her flexibility can blow his fucking mind. she wants to kiss him, touch him, hear those encouraging words that he gives her in an entirely different setting.

but his lack of action is causing her to overthink. is he not as affected as she is? does his heart not pound in her presence like hers does in his? how the hell is she the only one gnawing her lip at the thought of more? maybe it’s because she hasn’t had sex in so long. maybe that’s it. she’s just like this because of her wack ass sex life.

contrary to crys’ perspective, though, ony is losing his shit.

he definitely would’ve made a move by now if these were usual circumstances. he’s just so thrown off by how much he likes her, how much she makes him feel. she’s so much more than that pretty face and that mouth watering body. she’s funny, witty, and she packs a nasty ass punch both with her words and her hands. he likes the full range of crys. mouthy and annoying, intentionally trying to get a raise out of him. flirty and teasing, sensual in the way she draws him in. sweet and serene, almost like an oasis of calm and tranquility. oh, and he can’t forget how expressive she is with every emotion. her anger when her order’s wrong at the late night burger place they frequent, her excitement and joy when mrs. etta tells her about another good scan at the doctor, her sadness when she sees a sad tiktok during rest periods.

he just doesn’t get it. how can one person be so damn enthralling? how can someone’s quirks and flaws be so beautiful? he’s never felt pulled like this, but you know what? he’s fucking with it. she’s done nothing but add color to his life, a great addition that he felt like he was waiting for without even knowing. he loves her presence. she makes him smile and belly laugh, she pisses him off, she lights him up. he can be goofy with her, serious, sensitive even. he just wants more and more of crys, and even when he thinks maybe there’s nothing left to surprise him about her, she whips something new out of her arsenal. it’s just crazy how she has him by the throat but he’s happy to be along for the ride.

but he’s really wanting that ride to go somewhere. he’s always thought that it was crazy that crys is single, he just doesn’t understand it. in his eyes, she’s everything great in a woman. confident, sensitive, hardworking, sweet… annoying but in the best ways, enthralling, sexy as all hell.

when he’s ranting to eren about her for the nth time, the brunette raises an eyebrow at him and asks what’s taking him so long to ask her out. ony blinks. he thought they were… well, something already. but the sense that’s been chasing him for quite a while now finally catches up to him and hits him like a truck. he has to say something. do something. the unspoken thing doesn’t work for adults, and definitely not if he actually wants to keep her. is he an idiot? he wants to say no to his own question so badly, but he knows he would be delusional if he did.

so he quickly decides to get his shit together. the next time he sees crys, he’s asking her on an actual date, and that’s it. this whole thing could’ve been at a different point if he’d taken his head out of his ass and asked her out that first night he saw her in the gym. but it’s too late to try to change the past, and he can fix his mistakes in the present.

ᥫ᭡

unfortunately for ony, crys has a nasty attitude the next time they meet. her answers are short and snippy, and not in the usual, fun way. they had plans to go shopping together to buy mrs. etta a congratulatory something for completing her treatment, both having become extremely fond of the lady and being supportive of her on her journey. ony picks her up, being the gentleman he is (he hates her driving) and it takes no time at all to notice the bitter air around her. he actually realizes it the second she closes the door to her townhouse too damn hard. she huffs and puffs as she gets settled in the passenger seat.

crys doesn’t really know exactly why she’s so mad. it’s another one of those days where the stress has built up so quickly without her noticing, something that happens when her head isn’t fully in the game. she doesn’t want to take it out on ony, never means to, but something about knowing that he can handle that shit keeps her from being as mindful as she should be. “hey,” he speaks, his eyebrow raising at her lack of greeting. “hey,” she greets blandly. “what’s wrong, ma?” he asks, looking from her to the road as he pulls off. she just shakes her head. “thanks for picking me up,” she murmurs. “of course,” he responds.

he’s eyeing her every once in a while, trying to pick up on whatever he can. she’s fiddling a lot, tapping her fingers as she looks out the window. antsy? irritated? what is it, he wonders. but he’s not super fond of playing the guessing game, by now she should know that she can talk to him about any and everything on her mind and in her heart. he’ll listen, he’ll care, and he’ll support. hasn’t he shown that? “you lyin’ to me, ma. don’t like it,” he mumbles. she doesn’t answer and he really doesn’t like that. “what’s the issue, crys? talk,” he presses, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. this isn’t anything he’s used to from her. mouthy sometimes? sure. that’s nothing he can’t handle. but the silent treatment mixed with the tense attitude is not how he was planning to spend this time with her.

“nothin’, just tired.” she murmurs. his eyebrows furrow. “we can reschedule if you want,” he responds, understanding. “nah,” she says simply. she can’t explain it, she doesn’t really want to act like this. she’s just not exactly happy at the moment and the two seem to have very different vibes. guess that’s the theme, huh? she thinks. “mama, you not bein’ fair. tryna talk to you,” he mumbles. she rolls her eyes, looking out the window. “yeah, talk. your favorite thing to do,” she mumbles.

ony pauses, but only for a moment. “and that’s supposed to mean?” crys sighs, as if she’s really just over him. “nothing, ony, m’sorry. are we goin’ to macy’s or ross first?” she’s trying to deflect, and although ony’s not stupid, he lets her. maybe she just needs time, she can be like that every now and then. carrying around irritation from an earlier incident until it eventually fades and she’s good to go. sometimes she just needs to process her emotions, and ony’s cool with that. he’s cool with anything with her, it seems.

they end up at ross first, mrs. etta’s favorite store that she talks about when they power walk with her. they get her random things, little trinkets that remind them of her, lotions and candles, and a few decorative pieces for her house. they move to macy’s to get her a perfume she likes, and a few other random things that draw their attention. last is dollar.25 tree and a couple other craft stores, the mission being to grab a big basket and additional stuffing to make her a custom gift basket with a congratulatory card from both of them. crys is quieter than usual the entire time, but not necessarily agitated. it seems like shopping for mrs. etta is cheering her up.

seems.

once they get to her house, ony can tell by the way she groans as she flops onto her couch that she’s not a hundred percent. at this point, he’s confused and maybe a bit worried. what is it that has her so upset? he doesn’t like when she’s quiet, much rather her be loud and expressive with whatever emotion she’s feeling. it’s eerie when she’s quiet and ony can’t tell what she’s thinking or feeling. he doesn’t like to be in the dark.

“c’mon, ma, let’s go ahead and get this assembled. we can talk and smoke after,” he mumbles, moving to set the stuff down on her dining room table. he wants to sit and smoke, get her to shake herself out of whatever fucking funk she’s in, but he figures it’s a good idea to finish up mrs. etta’s gift. he really wants it to be perfect. he’s known mrs. etta for a while, she was even one of the people that encouraged him the most when he first started training, and he’s extremely happy that her treatment is done. a bratty sigh is heard from the girl on the couch and ony has to close his eyes to center himself. “we can’t take a break? all that shopping. m’tired.”

ony licks his lips and lets out a breath. “sure, ma, take a break. imma get started on this, I’ll chill after,” he responds. crys doesn’t like the little breath he takes, his tone coming across patronizing to her. “you tired of me? cause I can really do that shit by myself,” she responds lowly. she swears she can see a vein appear on ony’s forehead, but only momentarily. “nah. just want this gift to be good,” he mumbles. crys sits up to look at him. “it’s good already, we put a lot of thought into everything. what, you think I can’t assemble it myself?” her head tilts. because she could make the prettiest damn basket all on her own, really. she’ll prove it if she has to.

ony’s on the brink. he’s been patient all day— he’s always patient with her. it’s usually no issue, but today she’s really pushing it. mrs. etta should be the focus right now. “you don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” she asks, her eyebrows beginning to furrow. “yes, love, I hear you,” he murmurs. “just focused.” he’s really trying to keep it together.

crys scoffs, “yeah, well, you can focus and talk. you wouldn’t have to focus as much if you waited on me.” ony wonders what he did to be in this position. he hasn’t done shit to her, hasn’t said anything disrespectful, and he knows that she isn’t usually one to take her shit out on him, so he’s just thinking. wondering what has her so mad. “there you go again, not fuckin’ responding,” she huffs, standing up and crossing her arms. “you can just get the hell out forreal, I can finish this mysel—“

“sit the fuck down.”

crys blinks. and then blinks again. “excuse me?” she asks. she couldn’t have heard that right. he wouldn’t talk to her like that, he’s not insane. but the look he gives when he turns to her gives her second thoughts on that theory. “you heard me. sit the fuck down. I’m not leavin’ and you’re about to act like you have some fucking respect instead of poppin’ off at the mouth. I’ve dealt with your shit ask damn day, trying to be patient and understanding— like I always am with yo lil ass. I’m not playin’ crys. sit down,” he demands. and he really means that shit too, she can tell.

crys’ jaw is damn near on the floor by the time he finishes talking. “who you talkin’ t—“ she starts, only to be interrupted by a slow approaching ony, having put the materials he was working with down. “crys, I swear, if you don’t get some act right—“ he starts, trying to keep his breath even and his body calm. tired of being interrupted, crys decides to give him a taste of his own medicine. “what? what you gone do? talk my ear off? stand there and look at me with your arms crossed? I ain’t scared of you, ony. you don’t do shit and won’t do shit to me.”

“nah. I’ma fuck you,” he answers as he steps into her personal space. if crys’ jaw was on the floor before, it’s in hell now. there’s no way he just said that. “fuck that nasty ass attitude right outta you. you playin’ in my face, ma. you know I don’t like that shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ understanding with yo ass, somethin’ not every nigga is willin’ to do, by the way. you push and you push and I let yo ass. is that the problem?” he tilts his head, chest almost touching hers as he looks down. his eyes are dark, his jaw tense. the vein she thought she saw earlier is bulging now, almost angrier than ony himself. “is the problem that I let yo lil ass keep pushin’ me? cause I swear it don’t mean that I’ll just let the shit slide. and I’ll prove that shit too.”

ᥫ᭡

“fuck,” crys pants, tugging on the sheets in front of her. “please,” her voice breaks. “just— just lemme come. I’m so close, ony, please!”

she’s been on all fours for a while now, face buried in the bed as ony works her with his tongue and fingers. she’s in a pool of her own arousal, thighs wet and pussy drenched from the several times she’s been close to the edge, only to be disappointed each time as she’s denied her orgasm. her bottom lip is bitten raw, toes almost permanently curled and eyes finding a home in the back of her head as she pushes her hips back again and again to coax ony to at least let her have one. if she knew this was going to be the result of her attitude today, she would’ve just asked him to fuck her before they even left to go shopping. she’s waited enough for this, and even now when she’s so close, she’s getting denied.

there’s a harsh but absolutely welcome smack to her ass and she whines so damn pathetically that ony almost laughs. pulls his full lips from her clit with a pop and massages the cheek. “you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice low and raspy in a way unfamiliar to crys. she quickly shakes her head and grips the sheets tighter. “no, please! keep going, wanna come on your face,” she begs, pushing her hips to meet his lips again. the sound and sight of her is addicting, ony thinks. he likes the way she seems so desperate for his touch and tongue, craving that release that he’s been building up for so long. “you wanna come?” he asks, his fingers sliding back into her soaked pussy. he can feel her clench around him almost instantly. fuck he’s going to enjoy tonight. “yes! yes, wanna come!” she pants, rocking her hips to meet the thrust of his long fingers.

“then shut the fuck up and let me have my fun,” he murmurs, diving his face back in as his tongue meets her clit once again. “ah, shit,” she whimpers, her eyes rolling back again at the pleasure that washes over her. “yes, yes, just like that. fuck, you eatin’ my pussy up,” she moans. she’s never been so mad but so pleased at the same time. he’s torturing her and she doesn’t know how much longer she can last before she releases all over him without his say so. she’s already been through so much, she doesn’t want to find out what else he’ll do , even if it’s his fault. “my fuckin’ pussy,” he pulls back to murmur, flicking his tongue quickly over her pearl as his fingers continue to pump. she’s so wet, his fingers move with ease, and the sound that’s made is delicious. “say that shit.”

“fuck, I’ll say whatever you want,” she whines, back arching and toes throwing up gang signs. “s’your pussy, baby! take it take it take it,” she moans, throwing her ass back over and over. she’s so damn close, so damn close. she can almost taste it. her tummy feels like it’s about to burst and her poor pussy is sobbing. he pulls back once again to her dismay, reading her body like a book. “you betta not fuckin’ come,” he murmurs, fingers moving faster as they stretch her. how the hell is she not supposed to come? is he insane? “you fuckin’ kidding meee?” she whines, her head falling down onto the sheets. ony likes how spent she looks already, and he hasn’t even fucked her yet. “you know damn well I ain’t,” he grumbles, smacking her ass again. “arch that shit. it’s gone be a long night if you don’t listen to me, baby.”

in a turn of events, ony’s pussy drunk. he’s enjoying himself way too much, taking in her moans and slurping up what’s now his to pleasure. he’s just drowning in her, hands exploring everywhere he can touch. caressing, appreciating, adoring this beautiful woman falling apart on his tongue. he could do this all day and be grateful every second of it. he’s absolutely aching in his shorts, but something about bringing such a normally mouthy girl to babbles is too hard to turn away from. he didn’t even mean to take it this far, he just doesn’t want to stop. he wants her to keep feeling good, and the way she begs and reaches back for him to bring him closer lets him know that he’s doing his job

“please, I can’t,” she begs, back arching but breath deepening. “ony, I caan’tt, m’gonna come,” she whines. she’s trying, really she promises she is, but it’s just become too hard to hold out. it’s too good, she wants it and needs it. if he doesn’t stop or give her the green light, she’s gonna make a mess of both of them, and she’s not going to regret it. ony groans at her whines, basking in the sound of her begging and pleading. he can feel how she’s clenching, hears the desperation in her voice. she’s gone, melting into a pile of goo at his touch, and he’s never felt more satisfied. not only are they both having the times of their lives, but that attitude is just about gone and she’s actually acting like she has some fucking manners.

he reluctantly pulls back and removes his hand from her, licking at his fingers like a man starved. “flip over,” he huffs, standing and palming his aching dick. she seems to be too out of it, raising her head full of messy curls to look up in his general direction. “w-what?” she questions. ony doesn’t have time for her shit, so he grabs her hips and flips her over his damn self. the way he looks down at her is downright sinful and crys flutters simply at the sight. “fuckin’ bratty ass. you did this to yourself, crys. was gonna take you on a nice ass date, make love with your pretty ass, do shit the right way. but that fuckin’ mouth of yours,” he grumbles as he grabs her by her ankles, pulling her to the end of the bed. “is too damn bold with me. gotta fix that, sweetheart. you gone be my good girl after tonight, I can promise you that.”

she whines and grinds against his hand as his thumb traces circles on her puffy clit. looking down at her, he realizes that this is one of his favorite sights now. her eyes are blurry with tears from the constant denial, her face scrunched in a cute and sexy pout of pleasure, her tits shifting with each movement. ony could watch her like this all day, bringing her to the edge over and over just to see those pretty tears fall and hear that voice of hers crack. that’d only be torture for himself as well because he feels like he’s about to burst. “you so damn beautiful. you want this dick, sweetheart? tell me, I’ll give it to you,” he murmurs, licking his lips as he lets his shorts fall. crys whines and nods, unruly curls all over the place. so damn breathtaking.

“gimme it, please. wanna come all over it, baby. paint it for you,” she begs. her arms reach to hook around the back of her knees, pulling her thighs back slightly to open up for him. her words only serve to rile him up more. “you a lil freak, huh? mmm, you can do better than that, baby. stretch them legs like I know yo lil freaky ass can,” he grumbles, pulling his underwear down and off, his cock hanging low between his legs. crys knew it— she just knew it was big, and she was right. it’s long and thick with a minimal curve, and if she wasn’t so deprived she’d get on her knees and pay him back for the teasing. she whimpers and bites her lip, sliding her hands to hook behind her knees instead. she pulls her thighs flush to her chest and keeps going, extending her legs.

“fuck, yeah, baby, show me that pretty pussy. fat pussy all mine,” he grumbles. he lessens their distance, letting himself rest on her as he takes her in. what a fucking vision of a woman. he takes his dick in his hand and lightly taps it against her before her rubs himself all in her wetness. “look at ‘chu, baby. so fuckin’ sloppy. this all for me?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks back to her face. she goes to speak, but ony considers her next words unimportant in the grand scheme of things. before she can speak, she feels him start to press into her. she lets out a breathy moan, her grip tightening on her legs. “f-fuck,” she moans at the same time ony lets a groaning “shiiit,” pass his lips.

the two pant, looking each other in the eyes as he continues to press forward. crys is seeing stars, feeling the stretch of him. her face scrunches and her eyes begin to close. “mm-mm, keep them pretty eyes on me,” ony‘s breathing heavy , his hand coming to lightly wrap around her throat. “sexy ass. you bet not deny me that shit.” crys can only lick her lips, forcing her eyes open to meet his, clenching at the way he speaks. his words add to the growing fire within her. “there you go, baby. love that shit,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press his lips against hers in a nasty, sloppy kiss. crys is upset at the fact that this man is really bringing her to her knees. “so damn fine. don’t know why I waited so long to be in yo shit. too fucking good,” he groans, pulling out just slightly before pushing back in. crys gasps, pulling her legs closer just to have something to grab, but it just makes him go deeper.

“feels so good, onyyy,” she moans, keeping the eye contact as much as she can. ony’s hovering over her now, watching her with his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows together in concentration. he’s moving slowly, letting her adjust to him and just taking in the view in front of him. “onyyy,” she moans, clenching around him as her pussy flutters. he’s so damn fine and it’s been so long since she’s been touched. he’s deep in her shit and she’s on cloud nine. she wants more, so much more, and she wants it all from him. she hates it took so long to get to this point and hates that she the fact that she stopped herslef from persuing him. she wants this, needs all of him. “fuck me,” she chokes out. “c’mon, please.”

“relax,” he mutters, his free hand rubbing up her thigh. “just keep that pretty pussy open for me. I’ma always give you what you need, sweetheart. always.” and he means it. he’s never going to play with her, not her heart or her mind. but he’ll play with her pretty pussy until the sun comes up, until the cows come home. he’s never felt anything so good, seen someone so beautiful while they take his dick. she’s everything to him in this moment, her curls sprawled around her like the sun’s halo, face showing all the pleasure she’s feeling. her breathing is deep, her eyes staying on his just like he said.

he’s fucked. shit, he might just be in love.

“ooo, fuck, ony,” she keens, her nails slightly digging into the skin of her thigh. “so big. oh my God, baby.” she’s having the time of her life. he’s stretching her so well, and he feels so damn good digging into her like that. ”yeah, yeah. been waiting for thisss,” she pants, unable to keep her mouth shut. it’s just so good and it’s hitting that spot. would could blame her? “give it to me,” she moans. ony groans above her, his hips starting to meet hers sharper and sharper. she’s still so vocal, and he’s eating it the fuck up. “mhm,” he breathes, his hands moving to rest on hers, helping to hold her legs as she falters. “take that dick, babygirl. s’all for you. swear it is,” he groans. she doesn’t know it, but she could ask for just about anything right now and he’d give it to her.

her eyes scan over him, her hand reaching out to lightly scratch down his abdomen. “fuckin’ me so good, ony.”ony groans at the touch of her nails, his gut tightening at the way she’s looking up at him. he pulls out, reaching down to tap himself against her again. she’s too much, her voice, her eyes, her touch… the way she keeps clenching around him. “you fuckin’ dangerous, mama,” he pants. “can I beat this pussy up, baby? lemme take it.” crys bites her lip and nods, looking up at him in a way that makes him grip her thighs a little tighter. fucking minx. he’s beating himself up for not doing this sooner. he adjusts himself on the bed, leaning down to press his lips to hers as he slides back in, the two of them moaning into each other's mouths. he immediately picks up the pace as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling slightly as he presses more of his weight onto her.

crys starts to gasp with each thrust, toes curling and a squeak escaping her when she feels his hands on her clit. “w-wait— fuck, wait, m’gonna come quick,” she moans, fingers gripping ony’s shoulders as he pins one of her thighs to her chest. she wants to come with him, but her earlier pleasure is coming back with a fucking vengeance. ony chuckles— actually chuckles, and rasps down to her, “that’s the point, sweetheart. give it to me.” if she wasn’t on the brink of a mind blowing orgasm, she’d be pissed and annoyed at that fucking smirk. but instead she pants and pants until her breath stops. her orgasm washes over her in delicious waves, and she’s just frozen in pleasure, unable to do anything but come and come, pulsing around ony.

“breathe, mama. come on, breath through that shit,” ony guides, pressing kisses up and down her neck. right, breathing. she forgot about that. crys lets out a long moan, her eyes rolling back as she tastes her sweet release. sweet isn’t even the word, though. the denial and delay just makes things ten times stronger, her orgasm wracking her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. she’s holding onto ony tightly as he talks her through it, breathing heavy as she just takes it. “yeaah, there you go. breathe, baby, I got you. gonna take real good care of you just like I said,” ony grumbles, nipping at her skin here and there and slowing his thrusts and his assault on her clit. he has to pant at the way she’s so tight around him, and he’s just so strained holding back good open release. “you deserve that shit, baby.” more kisses and nips than either of them can count are placed on crys’ neck as crys comes down and tries to calm down as well.

his hand reaches to gently caress her cheek as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the other. “you’re so beautiful, babygirl. you feel okay?” he asks softly. okay? she’s riding down a fucking rainbow of happiness and bliss. okay is an understatement. crys figures that would boost his who a bit too much, so she just tilts her head to rest on the side of his. “mhm,” she hums breathlessly. “so good,” she murmurs. ony’s glad, pressing more kisses to her sweet face. he’s happy he can make her feel good, especially considering how she was sarlier in the day. “good enough to gimme another one?” he asks. he just can’t get enough, so he has to ask. he wants this night to last as long as it can.

crys lets out a breath, wondering just what the hell is wrong with the man. she’s been through the wringer for a good while now. but it’s felt amazing every step of the way, so the answer is yes. of course it’s yes. she nods. “just one more, sweetheart,” he croons, looking down at her dazed face. he pulls out, turning her over onto her stomach, much gentler this time. he guides her on all fours and reaches to rest his hand on the headboard, his other hand positioning himself once again. once he begins to push inside, his arm wraps around her torso to hold her tight as they both moan. his hips start to move again, this time with a slower pace as he braces himself on the headboard.

ony can’t help but feel the shift on the room. it’s much more intimate than before, crys sensitive from one release already. he wants to be so many things for her. he can be a little aggressive, knowing she likes when he bites back. he can be goofy and unserious. and he can be soft. he can be serious with her and about her. that’s what he wants. “wanted this for so long, baby. wanted you,” he murmurs into her ear. the sound makes her pussy flutter, causing him to chuckle again. “sh-shut up,” she mumbles, her hands slowly tightening around the sheets below them. the combination of his intimate confession and his thrusting into her is a double whammy that she didn’t see coming.

“mmm, I’m serious babygirl. want you, been wantin’ you,” he presses, eyes falling shut as his hips continue to move. she feels so good, it’s ridiculous. he’s going to be in it every day if she lets him. “gotta make you mine, ma. I’m forreal.” and he is, because what kind of idiot would he be to let her slip through his fingers? crys let’s her head fall back in a moan as he starts to gently work her clit. everything about this is just insane. who knew what today was going to bring? “y-you never… ah,” she cuts herself off with a moan as he curves his hips, fucking her in just the right way in such an intimate moment. fuck, what was she saying? “I never said anything, I know. s’my fault, no excuse. I was just too busy enjoyin’ bein’ around you,” he murmurs, moaning as he holds her tighter. his hips are starting to move a bit faster and crys is starting to meet his every thrust.

“but you mine now, right? I’ma do— fuuuck, I’ma do right by you, mama. always,” he groans. he means every word. it’s like she has a spell on him and he doesn’t care. if she wants his heart, she can take it. he leans back from the headboard, sitting up on his knees as he keeps her back against his chest. gosh, crys’ heart just flutters. “yeah,” she moans. “yeah, ony, m’yours. f-finally.” that puts a tired smile on ony’s face, his already racing heart squeezing. with one hand massaging her clit and the other now on her hip, ony begins fucking into her faster. “that’s right, baby. and I’m yours. can’t get rid of me, can’t push me away, sure as fuck not scarin’ me away,” he groans. i’d important to him that she knows that, with her lil stubborn ass.

crys reaches back behind her, grabbing onto him. “yeah, j-just like that, ony. me and youuu,” she moans, feeling that familiar sensation again. her body’s almost tired of it after so much teasing and edging and repeating. “gonna come for you, baby,” she groans. she has no fight left, it’s going to rock her and she knows it. “you gonna come for me?” he asks, his voice coming out breathy as he continues to thrust into her. he doesn’t remember the last time he felt as good as he does in this moment. he doesn’t want it to end, but he can’t hold anymore. she’s tight around him, pulsing as her release approaches once again. “paint my dick, baby, just like you said. then I’ma give you this nut,” he huffs, working his hips more and more. crys is a moaning mess, her head dipping as she feels another strong orgasm approaching. “keep breathin’,” ony croons. “want you to feel all that shit, mama.”

she breathes as even as she can, breaths deepening as she quickly approaches that line. “ohhh, ony!” she cries out, her eyes squeezing shut. ” let it out, baby, give it to me. give me that shit,” he groans to her, working her clout faster and faster as he keeps pumping into her. it’s all too much and it brings her over the edge, her toes almost cramping and hips moving without her knowledge. “there it goes, keep breathing. fuck yeah, mama, take that shit.” it’s an intense feeling and she’s chasing it, breathing like ony directs and it makes the difference. she feels the shit down to her toes. her eyes are crossed and she can’t even fucking speak, just taking whatever comes as her eyes shut tight. “that’s it, baby, feel that shit. know you feel good, I know,” he pants.

ony’s fucking into her faster, the way she’s clenching around him making his head spin. his grip tightens on her hip as he chases his own high, watching her fucked out face. she looks so good like that, spent and satisfied and his. “fuuuck, you so gorgeous, crystal. gahdamn you feel good as fuck,” he rambles, praising her over and over just because he can and she deserves it. soon, he’s pulling out and pumping himself all over her ass, groaning as his body jerks. “yeah, ony,” crys coos with a raspy voice. she’s giving a tired wiggle of her hips, encouraging him to spill all over her. “fuckin’ perfect.”

the two pant, spent from such a lovely day together. it’s silent as they just back in the afterglow of their impromptu endeavors. eventually, ony starts to press sweet, calming kisses to her shoulder and back. he appreciates the small marks on her skin, random beauty marks and freckles. “perfect, mama. you were perfect,” he rasps. as far as he’s concerned, today couldn’t have been more successful. crys is… well, crys is out of commission at the moment. her mind is fuzzy in her post orgasm bliss, and she’s catching her breath as she basks in his kisses. “fuck…” she mumbles. that was very unexpected but completely welcome. the wait was more than worth it, and now she can have that again and again and again. “yeah,” ony chuckles tiredly. “yeah, that was crazy. damn.”

the two laugh together, gross and sticky, but so happy with the situation. that line was finally crossed, and there’s no going back. not that either of them would want to, anyway. ony glances down at crys as she rests for a moment, eyes closed and lashes tickling her skin. the earlier tensions are gone, nothing but fondness and connection in it’s wake. he reaches to caress her cheekbone, tucking a curl behind her ear and out of her face. “sorry for earlier,” crys mumbles into the quiet. she really is, she doesn’t like when she projects her upset like that. she nevers wants that for anyone she’s connecting with, especially not ony. he’s been understanding with her in a way that she’s learned to deeply appreciate. “but I’m glad we did this.”

ony hums, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. he can deal with a little push from her, especially since he gets to keep her. she’s a sweet girl, and she invigorates him. he appreciates her expressiveness and range of emotions, and understands that sometimes she’s just human. he’s okay with that. but now that they’re together, he has the ability to take a different approach. sometimes she needs him to snap back at her, and that’s what he’ll do with absolutely no hesitation from now on. there’s a mutual respect and understanding, and ony really fucks with that shit. “just needed some attention… and dick,” he murmurs. and he’ll give it to her whenever, wherever.

crys groans and starts to fuss, turning to weakly slap at his chest. “oh, shut up! go get me a damn towel!” here he goes saying some slick shit, right when the moment is good. he’s such an idiot sometimes, but it never fails to put a smile on her face. ony lets out a bellowing laugh, backing off of her and standing on his only slightly wobbling legs. he hopes she didn’t see that, but she’s already talking shit again. “yeah, pussy got you walkin’ crazy,” she sasses as he starts his trek to the bathroom, watching his sweaty but oh so fine figure walk away. ”better act right or you’ll never get it again,” she huffs. ony laughs again, shaking his head. “don’t make me start this shit all over, crystal,” he calls over his shoulder. she rolls her eyes but nuzzles her face into a pillow as she grumbles under her breath. she’s not scared, she’s just still recovering, is all. “yeah, that’s what I thought,” he laughs.

soon, they’re all cleaned up and on fresh sheets, crys refusing to sleep in the crusty bedspread after everything was said and done. they get into a spat about who gets to sleep on which side of the bed, and then over whether they should sleep with some time of light on. ony also demands to cuddle, but crystal fusses that she’ll get too hot and won’t be able to sleep. for that brief period, it’s war.

eventually, though, after bargains and begrudging compromises, crys is on her back on her usual side of the bed and ony is half-sprawled on top of her, head buried in her neck and hand softly rubbing her outer thigh. a random sitcom plays with no sound and the room is a nice, cool temperature with the fan blowing on the both of them. crys caresses ony’s back gently with her nails, eyes closed as she enjoys the weight of him on top of her. the pleasant feeling is like a weighted blanket, lulling her to sleep. ony is holding crys close, enjoying her warmth and presence. he’s taking full advantage of being able to cuddle with her. they fall asleep like this, wrapped up in each other, and wondering what the next day will bring.

hoooooly moooooly. this was not supposed to be this long. was hoping to post this sooner, but the words just kept coming omg. pls excuse any mistakes lmao. hope you like it! feedback welcome and wanted 🫶🏽

[farfromstrange]

Okay, so, I am putting my thoughts under a cut. HEAVY spoilers for both episode 1 and 2 of Daredevil: Born Again. They are scrambled, and I’m gonna need a day to actually write something coherent, but I need to talk SCREAM ABOUT IT.

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUUUUUCK

SCREAMING CRYING DYING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

Cancel MARVEL CANCEL DISNEY CANCEL THEM ALL FUCK THEM

They fucking killed Foggy. That last bit of hope I had shattered when his fucking eyes stayed open and his heart stopped. I started sobbing the moment Karen started begging him to stay with her. She was sobbing, MATT sobbing, I think we were all sobbing. The way he just… stopped fighting when Foggy died. The way he CRIED against DEX like his fucking heart just shattered, and we could all see it. I can’t-

The world ended the moment he died, for both Karen and Matt and everyone else who loved Foggy, and part of me doesn’t want to believe it, but if it is a fake-out, it’s the best one in history because I do not believe he’s still alive. Not after what I’ve seen, but I’d love to be proved wrong BECAUSE THIS CANNOT BE THE FUCKING END. It just can’t.

Matt threw Dex OFF THE ROOF! He WANTED him to die, or he was taking that chance. That blank look on his face just said “Nothing matters now anyway” and he abandoned all his principles because his best friend got killed. He loved Foggy, and now he’s dead. What kills me most is that Karen had to watch Foggy die—she held him in her fucking hands with his blood all over her—and Matt HEARD him die. How is that fucking fair?!

Quick side note about the intro: We’ve got the original theme slightly modified and I actually kinda like the imagery of the statues breaking! It’s as devastating as it is cool.

Anyway. We learned that Karen left for San Francisco. Matt and Karen kind of stopped talking, which, after what happened, I understand. I did NOT see coming though the fact that she’d go so far. Of course, their relationship didn’t have much of a future after that because people deal with grief differently and they both had to get out, but it was devastating to witness Matt being desperate because his world fell apart, and Karen just looking so, so broken for the same reasons. I mean, Matt begging her to give him just five minutes to talk? He sounded so soft. So… God, I can’t even put it into words. They’re both so broken oh my god.

What also got me was her keeping the horn and then giving it to him. (And later he fucking put the ‘in memory of Foggy Nelson’ card in his coat when meeting Heather. He’s always keeping him close to his heart, I’m crying.)

My thoughts are a mess right now. Matt started a firm with Kirsten, and I mean, good for him but everything just fell apart, and they (Matt and Karen) don’t even have each other anymore because they’re fighting their demons on their own. I can’t deal with this. Matt is alone in that big ass apartment with that piece of paper from Foggy’s memorial, cooking and watching the news and trying to move on from everything that happened, and he’s just so goddamn miserable. But who wouldn’t be?

Ben Urich’s niece! That’s all I’m gonna say.

Kirsten setting Matt up was the highlight for me because it made things a little lighter, but that man also needs serious therapy. At least we got him being a flirty flustered little shit though!!

I don’t think I have to say more about the diner scene. It was as intense as it was refreshing to see them talk like that without trying to kill each other.

Mayor Fisk!! Vincent’s performance is top tier! Love how he’s having a marital dispute with Vanessa and now Vanessa’s basically Kingpin and he’s yearning to get her back 😭

And the kiss at the end?? Why’s he so fucking hot and charming? Jesus Christ I almost forgot I was devastated.

I can’t even put into words the things I’m feeling right now. I- I need a few hours of sleep and a clearer mind because I’m still teary-eyed.

Another thing. They portrayed his senses surprisingly well, but Charlie also did an impeccable job. God, that man can ACT! Not that I ever doubted it. There is no better Matt Murdock than him. And he just proved again why I love this character so much.

Onto the second episode!

WHITE TIGER! Amazing introduction of the character. 10/10.

Love seeing Fisk being mayor and trying to do things the legal way, but we all now that’s not gonna stick. Not really.

Corrupt cops! And Matt jumping in to help Hector! That’s my man! He’s still Matt, he cares about injustice, so how can he not help? He can never give that piece of himself up, and I love that he refuses to. Seems like it’s finally giving him a purpose again. Seeing him in court again, being a lawyer, is so refreshing (and hot).

I absolutely love that they made sure that Ben Urich’s legacy lives on in his niece (BB) and GIRL does she seem determined. But I feel like she might get herself in trouble, especially with Fisk and his history with Ben. That’s gonna be interesting! Hope her and Matt get to meet, too.

Could that boy talking to Heather at her book signing (pop off by the way, we love a successful queen) and asking her for help be Muse? I don’t know much about that character, so I’ll let myself be surprised. Makes me scared for what’s gonna happen to her though. I don’t know how much more loss Matt can take, especially since we know he’ll choose to pursue something with her, romantically.

BACK TO FHE FLIRTING! Dinner date? Talking about traveling and having Mai tai’s? Having a future together? Oh, he’s so into her! And he’s smiling and laughing and God he needs that. Also, Matt being so ready to get a taste of Heather? I’m screaming. Choking on his drink and “I’ll take the check, please” AND “I’ll pay you back, in interest” SIR! YOU CANT DO THIS TO MEEEE!

I did not expect Fisk and Vanessa to go to Heather for couple’s therapy but honestly it’s kind of funny. Also curious to see where this goes, especially if/when Matt finds out.

HE STOOD OUTSIDE A CHURCH! I REPEAT, HE STOOD OUTSIDE A CHURCH! But he didn’t go in, so another crisis of faith, Perhaps?

HOLY FUCK! That fight?? Matt beating the shit out of these corrupt cops without any suit or gear to protect him, breaking fucking home WITH THOSE WILD EYES?? And the scream HOLY SHIT FUCK I NEED HIM AHHHH

Okay, that’s all. I need to give myself a moment to breathe now.

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 4 — 𝖕𝖙 3 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.8k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom/sub dynamic, hints of petplay notes - i blame barry for the delay, jk. anyway, sorry it took so long but i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥

You've officially reached the point of insanity, and there's no turning back. One date with Johnny, and you're practically doodling his name in a journal with hearts all around, or putting your name with his just to see how it sounds. 

Admittedly, you haven't done either of those things, but you did turn down another night out drinking this weekend on the off chance you end up having plans with Johnny—which might be just as insane, if not more. Especially since you hadn't brought up your intention with Johnny. 

You suppose there's no time like the present, so cuddled up on your couch, you bring up your messages to Johnny and start typing.

i miss you so much, even if it's only been a few days!! when can I see you again? 

Straight to the point—unbridled emotion that's honestly a little cringeworthy, but there's little point in pretending to be something you're not, especially when Johnny seems perfectly into it. 

You have to distract yourself for a little while, scrolling through various social media apps to occupy your mind as you wait for a response. It's not too long before your phone pings, and you're rushing to click the notification—each time his name pops up on your screen your stomach flips, and you always click onto the message far too eagerly. You wonder if he does the same.

Been thinking, and I did have an idea in mind, but now am overthinking.

That certainly piques your interest, as you speedily type back a response, almost demanding an answer. 

tell me!! 

You watch the screen as it tells you Johnny is typing, then nothing. Then typing again, then nothing. After a minute or so of stopping and starting, his picture fills the screen as his call waits for you—you pick up immediately.

"Hey, pet." He greets cheerfully—so much so that you can hear the smile in his voice. It's so much better now the image of it is burned in the back of your mind—it feels like the two of you never stopped smiling when you were together.

"Hi, Johnny!" You reply, just as enthused, despite it only being a day since you last spoke. "What's your idea?" 

Your insistence on hearing his idea makes him laugh.

"Straight to the point, lass. I was thinking that ya could come stay fer the weekend?" You detect a hint of hesitance in his voice, while your heart practically leaps at the prospect. 

A whole weekend with Johnny sounds like a dream—talking, cuddling, kissing... maybe more. You burn with need thinking about finally taking things to a more sexual level with Johnny. So far you've only teased each other, and even that has made you unbelievably needy—practically every conversation with him leaves you dripping and aching, leaves you yearning for relief that you can only get at Johnny's hands. 

Not only that, but maybe you'll get to explore more of your dynamic together—the thought of getting to submit to him sends you into a tailspin. You know it would come so easily, you know you'd slip under Johnny's command so easily were he to just take ahold of your metaphorical leash. 

You come to, realising you'd fallen completely silent instead of responding when Johnny speaks again—lighthearted yet hesitant.

 "... But it's okay if you don't want to—"

"I want to! On base?" You ask, already starting to unfurl the logistics in your head.

Johnny chuckles good-naturedly, seemingly amused by the idea of having you come over to his place on base. "Nah, I have a flat in Hereford."

"Oh, cool. I was a little scared for a moment." You admit, a hint of nervousness before you change tack. "But ooh, are you aiming to get laid this weekend? Bold move, Johnny." 

Admittedly, you're teasing and not offended by the assumption in the slightest, if anything, you know wholeheartedly that you want him. If you go on much longer with the level of teasing Johnny subjects you to without any relief, you may just combust. 

"You're the one making assumptions, needy girl." He teases right back, and then continues more earnestly. "I wasn't counting on it, jus' want to spend some quality time with you. Can't exactly cuddle up in a café."  

How he manages to balance wholesome and filthy so well you have no idea. Consistently, Johnny shows his depth and keeps you on your toes by making you flustered in every possible way. One moment you're blushing from desire, the next from his sweetness. 

"So... it's a sleepover, then?" You giggle as you snuggle closer to the couch cushions, already thrilled at the idea of spending time with Johnny in any way. 

Johnny laughs right along with you, launching back into joking. "I'll even paint your nails if ya want. Braid your hair, talk about boys, as long as the boy is me..." 

The hint of possessiveness makes your stomach do somersaults—despite the early stages of your relationship, your heart is set on Johnny, and it's reassuring to know he might be in just as deep. 

"You're the sweetest! Do you even know how to braid hair, though?" You try to imagine Johnny's large hands working with delicate strings of hair, as braiding is something you even struggle to do yourself.

"I have sisters and nieces. Taken part in many a makeover." He proudly admits, and you can feel the joy radiating off of him. No threat to his masculinity at all, just sheer enjoyment at being the subject of his niece's whims.

The image it conjures up is downright adorable.

You nod to yourself, storing that piece of information in the back of your mind for later. "I'll keep that in mind for when I need to dress up for a special occasion." 

The giggles are unavoidable as you picture big, bulky Johnny painting nails—you'd put good money on him being the kind to poke out his tongue when he concentrates.

Your thoughts start to drift to other plans for the weekend, other things you might get up to. Johnny was adamant that sex wasn't expected, but on your end, it's certainly still desired... at least in theory. 

There are still some residual nerves and worries, even with Johnny's constant sweetness—past events, past bad experiences lurk in the back of your mind waiting to sabotage the present. 

The need you feel almost overwhelms all of that though—the way Johnny just seems to speak to all the submissive parts of you, making you feel so desired and so safe.

"So... what if I want to have sex?" You ask, voice falling quiet as if admitting something forbidden—as if Johnny isn't going to do filthy things to you far beyond just sex. 

A throaty, strained groan leaves the man, his voice dropping low and dripping with desire. "Might have to have you stay longer, since you won't be walking after."

You suspect the idea of you struggling to walk isn't just bragging—if you close your eyes, you can almost see his length, remembering how good it felt even though thick denim jeans. 

"I— yeah, okay." The sigh that leaves you is instinctual, hot with anticipation.

"I've got condoms, but yer welcome to bring your own," Johnny mentions. "And I'll pick ya up Friday evening, drop you off Sunday night? How's that sound?" 

"Wonderful." You say honestly, loving that you'll get to spend the weekend with him, all while being cared for and driven there and back. "Ooh, I get to be your passenger princess." 

You giggle mischievously, playing it up for Johnny as your mind runs wild with ideas. 

"Don't be getting any ideas, lass." He chides, playfulness clear in his tone.

"Hey, I was just planning on taking over your radio and telling you fun stories. Nothing more!" Your voice rises through your protest, as before Johnny had turned it dirty, you really hadn't been thinking of the way your hands may drift to his thigh, or palm at his cock. 

"Not sure if I believe that. I felt the way you were squeezin' me under that table, yer a naughty girl." He purrs, making shivers run through you.

"You started it, not me." Your gasp is full of offence, proclaiming your complete innocence. Of course, you had wanted to feel him up way more than you did and had undoubtedly had a few very sinful thoughts while he was sitting next to you. 

But you had been good, had behaved, and kept your hands to yourself. It was Johnny who led you to sin.

"So, you won't be feeling me up unless I'm the one guiding you?" 

At that you fall silent, too stunned to speak—the thought of Johnny guiding you through pleasing him, guiding you into being perfect, just for him is overwhelming. He'll lead you deeper and deeper into submission—trust.

"Oh, you like the sound of that." Johnny's purr has you completely dead to rights, as once more, he sees right through you.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to settle your rapidly swirling arousal. "Of course I do..." 

Johnny doesn't relent in his teasing, in his almost cruel display of control of your desire. Everything from his word choice to the dominant edge in his voice sends you spiralling. "Want me to show you how to please me, puppy?" He coos. "Show you how tae be a good girl fer me?" 

"Please, sir." You feel your mind slip just a little—falling so easily into that blissful state just listening to Johnny's tone, finding it so easy to fall for him. 

"Won't have to show you much, you just know how to turn me on naturally, like it's instinct. Fuck, lassie." The guttural noise from Johnny shows the effect his own words have on him too. 

You hope he's squirming just like you are, achingly hard and straining against his jeans, just like he was in the café. 

The tension crackles in the air between you, the silence thick with your joint lust settling deep in your respective guts. 

You let out a shaky sigh before you respond. "It's only fair for us to be equal on that front since you just... I don't even have words. It's like you read my mind so you can drive me crazy." 

Johnny is undoubtedly insightful, likely an occupational thing, but sometimes it's scary how well he can read you. He's not the only one who naturally knows how to appeal to someone's baser desires.

For a moment, and quite unfairly as the logical side of your brain notes, your gut twists at the idea of how he became so well practised.

Johnny's sweet laugh pulls you from that train of thought. "Am a smart man, perceptive, what can I say? Know how to read ma pet."

"I'm not your pet." You note, not bitterly, but rather plainly. You're not Johnny's— 

"Not yet, aye, but you will be." He says with a sense of certainty. 

"Johnny..." You don't even know what to say to that, beyond begging and pleading for him to make it come true—but that hardly feels appropriate right now.

"Even if we don't have sex this weekend, I'd like to explore things with us a little, if tha's okay?" He asks, his voice open and inquisitive, almost shy in how quietly he poses the question.

"Me too, I don't wanna rush too much but holding back somehow feels...wrong." You sigh, wishing you had the words to really explain the pull you felt. "It's like I know I shouldn't be rushing head first into this, but... I can't stop it." 

Johnny is truly a magnetic force of a man, both in who he is and the way he treats you. There's so much about him that you can't wait to get to know, all the beauty and scars in equal measure, each story—the meaning of the waver behind his smile, the way he sounds first thing in the morning. 

"Me either, if it helps." He admits, sharing the sentiment. "It's okay to fall, just gotta be there tae catch each other, aye?" 

Your eyes flutter shut as you rip the phone away from your face, letting out a loud exhalation and a whispered "fuck". The warmth of his words and the weight of the meaning behind them overwhelming you, wrapping around you like a cosy blanket.

When you feel a little calmer, you return the phone to your ear to agree with Johnny's sentiment, though not quite as viscerally as you did in private.

"Yeah, just gotta keep each other straight." Your throat tightens as you push the words out. 

The silence on the line is overtaken by shuffling from Johnny's end for a moment before he clears his throat. "Gotta go, pet. Duty calls."

"It's... 8 pm, what are you doing at this hour?"

There's a laugh from Johnny, and a more insistent knocking in the background. "Going for a pint with the lads." 

"Oh duty, huh?" You tease. 

He hums in affirmation, unashamed. "Team bonding, essential stuff for the functional operation of any squad." 

"Have fun, Johnny." You wish him well sincerely, even if part of you wishes the call didn't have to end. "Talk soon."

"Talk soon, princess. Sleep well." He makes a kissing noise before ending the call, his photo disappearing off your screen before you lock the phone and clutch it to your chest just for a moment. 

'It's okay to fall, just gotta be there tae catch each other.'

His words echo through your mind over the coming days—the light in an otherwise dreary weak. 

You were definitely falling. 

————

Packing your bag feels like chaos, as you desperately scramble to not forget a single thing. You're only going for a weekend, and yet you're packing like you're bunkering down for the apocalypse. Well, a million pairs of underwear will be necessary with how Johnny ruins them just with his words and his voice—being there in person means you'll probably be going through a new pair every hour. 

And of course, you need cute extra outfits, in case the two of you go anywhere... that means extra shoes too. Johnny is going to think you're crazy with all the bags and belongings you're bringing. 

Thankfully, you got ready hours ago—did your makeup and hair to perfection and put on a pretty dress that you may have ordered just for Johnny. Okay, maybe you ordered several dresses just for Johnny.

As you rush to put the finishing touches on your packing, your phone buzzes with a text. 

Outside whenever you're ready :) 

i'll be out soon! <3

Maybe you should tell Johnny you'd buzz him up, but considering that your packing has made your flat look like a tornado has ripped through it, perhaps it's best not.

You do your best to rush, not wanting to exhaust Johnny's good patience, jamming in a few final items you might need just in case, before locking up your flat and heading down to the lobby.

You step out into the car park, spotting Johnny standing beaming, leaning against a jeep. His arms and chest bulge in his burgundy Henley, his jeans are slung low on his hips in such a tempting way. Is it possible he got more attractive since the last time you saw him? 

Your eyes crawl over him, drinking in every little detail and falling for his good looks all over again—just as enraptured in his beauty as the first time. 

"Hi." You call out as soon as the two of you meet eyes, the spark between you instantly reigniting just through a look.

"Hey, you." He immediately reaches for your bag, taking the weight off of your shoulder like it's nothing to him—even though the weight was already starting to strain your shoulder. "Let me grab that for yer." 

You let him take your bag, watching with glee as opens the boot to put it away. The manners are such a turn-on. "What a gentleman." 

His chest puffs up in pride, a resolute look on his face. "Ma maw raised me right." 

After closing the door to the boot, Johnny jogs round to the passenger side, holding the door open for you to climb inside.

"That she did." You nod, impressed and honestly swooning at the princess treatment as Johnny climbs into the driver's side.

With the two of you finally in the car, Johnny leans back to grab a shopping bag from the backseat, opening it to display a range of goodies. "Need anything? I brought drinks and snacks." 

You peer inside the bag to see what he brought before meekly taking a bag of cookies and a can to drink. "Ooh, it's like a real road trip." 

Johnny reaches back to put the bag away, stopping with his hand resting on the back of your seat—his baby blues shine, as does his smile as he looks upon you. "Gotta look after ma girl." 

Your heart hammers against your chest, your cheeks flush and burn.

His girl.

"I could get used to that." You whisper, lost in watching his mouth, recalling the way they wrapped around those words.

"Me too, bonnie." 

Before he turns his attention to getting the car running, he double-checks your seatbelt, making sure you're safe—he makes sure his rearview mirror is perfectly placed taps to activate the directions on his phone. 

And then he does the thing—the arm on the back of the seat, backing out of the parking space and looking so fucking hot while doing it. You're entirely transfixed. 

"I'm just getting it out of the way now, but I am gonna stare at you a tonne, you already look so attractive when you're driving." You know you're babbling just a little, a side effect of the nerves, and the fact that Johnny looks so good to you right now.1

"I'm all yours to feast yer eyes upon." He says with a wink, before turning his attention to the road as he pulls out of your apartment's car park.

"Lucky me." You whisper, gaze tracing over all of his features. "Especially since I love looking at you so much." 

"Shame fer me tha' I have tae keep my eyes on the road." The smile on his face widens as he spares you a glance, doing a quick double-take. 

"At least we have all weekend to spend time together uninterrupted." Feeling brave, you reach out to rest your hand on the back of Johnny's head, caressing the nape of his neck and threading your fingers in the roots of his hair. 

Johnny's shoulders relax, as he leans slightly into the touch. "That we do." His voice turns serious momentarily. "Did you let someone know where you're going?" 

Sweet Johnny, always concerned for your safety, even when it comes to him. The awareness he shows is another thing in the long list of little details you admire about him.

"I forwarded all of your info to a friend, so you should be very afraid." You tease easily. Your friend is under strict instructions to call the police should you not check-in.

"Terrified, lassie." He smirks. "Just tae be clear, you wanna go home at any point, I'll take you, or drive you to the station if yer not comfortable." 

"I appreciate it. And if you want to kick me out, feel free." 

"I'd never." He gasps, full of offence. "Unless ya decide to trash my flat, and even then that's only if you started damaging my keepsakes from ma granny." 

It's your turn to gasp now. You wonder if that comment was inspired by past events—the kind of warning that only comes after you've experienced the event. "Only a monster would do such a thing." 

"Aye, and I bet you can be a brat, but not a monster." 

You shrug, a coy smile on your face, knowing just how bratty you can be when you want to be. "Everyone needs to be a little bratty sometimes." 

"Hmm, do they now? Good job I won't get tired of putting you in yer place then, pet." 

Johnny's hand slides from the gear stick to your thigh, his fingers curling around the exposed flesh just above your knee. The feeling is entirely electric, especially in combination with his words, making you hyper-aware of every sensation as his thumb sweeps over your skin and his hand tugs your legs ever so slightly apart. 

"This okay?" He asks, glancing down to where his hand is settled on you—you know 100% if you said no, he'd withdraw in an instant. 

"More than okay." You smile earnestly, slipping your own hand across to rest in the same place on his broad thigh.  "But can I do the same?" You embrace the denim beneath your fingertips, relish in the firm muscle that rests underneath. 

"As long as it's just tha', don't distract me too much." He smirks, turning briefly to wink at you. 

You try to keep your eyes on the road and your hands respectful. "Can't concentrate on two things at once? Seems unlike you." You tease. 

"I can." He protests, firm and certain, before his voice softens. "But I dinnae want to risk it. Precious cargo on board." He fixes you with a meaningful look in between glances at the road. 

"Johnny..." You sigh, blushing profusely at his compliment and way of thinking. 

"Dinnae care what anyone says, a man who'll drive like a nut with his lovie in the car is no man at all." He nods firmly, face morphing into something serious—though his eyes are filled with mirth, as his serious facade almost cracks."

"So no road head... ever?" You gasp, genuinely a little taken back at the prospect. 

Johnny breathes deeply through his nose, his knuckles on the wheel turning white as his hand at your thigh grips. He faces ahead still, yet speaks slowly. "If the first time I get yer pretty mouth on me is while I'm drivin', I will crash, tha's all am saying." 

"I value your honesty." Your voice leaves you as a whisper, your attempt to joke falling flat at your own breathlessness. You take a moment to compose yourself, before starting to tease again. "Save it for tonight, then?" 

It's Johnny's turn to swallow hard. "We'll see." 

The car journey falls silent for a little while, and the lack of conversation, while comfortable, allows for unpleasant and doubtful thoughts to creep in. 

The truth is, you can talk a big game, but sometimes your desire becomes outpaced by your nerves—then you're left struggling in a swirling pit of darkened thoughts. Every time Johnny pulls away to change gear, you find yourself feeling a little colder until his hand returns. 

But it doesn't do well to dwell on anxious thoughts. You force yourself to stop biting your lip, stop letting your mind flicker back to bad experiences, and actually speak to the one person who can offer you comfort right now.

"I am a little nervous..." You let the words fall free, and feel a little surprised at how small you sound.

"Aww, don't be. There's no pressure at all, promise." He says, sounding sweet and genuine—his hand squeezes your thigh once again. "Even if the furthest we go is cuddling on the couch, I'll be a very happy man." 

The smile on his face speaks to the truth of the statement, and you can't help smiling right back at him. 

"I appreciate you saying that." You think for a moment before continuing, trying to put into words the true source of your angst. "I just... get hesitant about opening up, I guess. Some guys before have promised me the world until they got what they wanted and then..." 

You trail off, not feeling the need or the strength to go into detail about last time, or the time before that.

"Tha's not me." Once more, he squeezes and lets his thumb rub over your skin. "But I don't expect ya to just take my word for it, I'll show ya, as long as it takes." 

His words mean more than you can say, and the fact he intends to back them up means even more. You really hope you can count on him.

"You're so sweet." You sigh, feeling full to the brim with appreciation. 

Johnny seems a little nervous too, frenetic energy making him shuffle in his seat. He seems to be lost in thought for a few moments before he finally speaks up. 

"I'm not looking to rush in and make a mistake maself. The last girl I dated..." He trails off too, his words tinged with dejection as he stares straight ahead. "Let's jus' say it didn't end well, either." 

You nod understandingly, all too familiar with things not ending well. "You don't have to tell me now." 

He shrugs slightly and seems like he's refusing to meet your eye any longer. "Don't want tae ruin the mood." 

"It's hard to ruin it, Johnny. We're meant to be spending time together, getting to know each other." You offer your most reassuring smile, hoping he catches it out of the corner of his eyes. "I have my fair share of sob stories to unload on you, don't worry." 

Although, that's another source of worry, that Johnny will run for the hills once he learns of your baggage.

"I don't doubt it." His lips fall into a frown, before being schooled into a half-hearted smile. "Hopefully we can replace them all with good stories instead." 

You silently nod, hoping for the same. 

"Speaking of good memories, I was thinking we could make pizzas together, I got the dough and some toppings." Johnny mentions, and the notion fills you with joy. 

"Sounds like fun!" You gasp, a pressing thought flickering into your mind. "What kind of pizza toppings do you like? I feel like this is make or break." 

Johnny seems to think for a moment, his tongue poking into his cheek. "Hmm... What are the most controversial choices?" He asks, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face. 

"Hmm, pineapple?" You pose a controversial yet not particularly gross topping first, to gauge Johnny's taste. 

"Aye, don't mind it." 

"Anchovies?" 

He shrugs. "Why not?"

"... Olives?" 

Now he turns, perplexed. "Who doesn't like olives?" 

"A lot of people! They're horrible." You whine.

"The black ones aren't so bad, ya big baby." Johnny looks as he turns in time to watch you frown, his voice turning so condescending. "Aww, poutin' like one too. What did I tell ya about poutin' in front of me?" 

"That you'd kiss me, nibble on me even." You squeak.

You watch as everything about him changes—his eyes grow stormy and lidded, his lips curl into a satisfied smirk and his voice drops dangerously low. "As soon as we get back, those lips o' yours are mine." 

"... Yes Johnny." Your reply comes automatically, an instinct that you know will be capitalised on.

"Sound so sweet when ya say my name like that." He smiles brightly, genuinely pleased.

"Wait til you're fucking it out of me." 

"That won't be the name I want to hear from that pretty little mouth, bonnie girl." 

Shit. 

You shiver all over, squirming in your seat. "Yes sir." 

"Fuuuuck." Johnny groans, squeezing your thigh extra tight for good measure. "We should set some ground rules for the weekend." 

He suddenly sounds quite serious, though you suppose it's a good thing. Boundaries are needed, especially if you're to keep things sensible and consensual.

"Yeah, sounds good." You nod, falling quiet to allow him to lead the way. 

"I'm not gonna make ya do anything, don't think we're ready for that, but I'd like to tease it, if tha's okay?" You love the way he sounds measured and yet hopeful. 

"More than okay, though I'm sure you love to tease." You giggle, filled with a little nervous energy. Johnny already teases you so much, if he steps up his game any more you might straight up melt into a puddle. 

"Who doesn't? What did ya say about everyone needing to be a brat?" He jokes, winking—all charm. "But aye, think we need a long talk first before anything proper." 

"I look forward to it, though." You admit. Despite detailing a lot of your interests and limits in your initial post, it's good that Johnny is adamant about revisiting them properly. Still, you're excited to get to a point where you both feel comfortable truly exploring your dynamic. "So... can I call you sir?" 

Johnny falls quiet for a moment. "If it comes naturally to yer. Feel like it's something I should earn." 

"You're already doing it, you make it easier to trust you with everything that you do." Like insisting the name is something earned, you think. 

"I'm glad tae hear that." He nods, the smile on his face only slight, as he weighs his responsibility. 

"I do have some questions, though." You begin, somewhat hesitantly, but you suppose it's good to lay your cards on the table completely. A part of you can't live with uncertainty—needs to know Johnny's true intentions. 

He eyes you for a moment, before nodding. "Go on." 

"So, say you had complete control over things going forward, what would you want to happen? What do you... want for our relationship?" You take a moment to breathe after spilling all of that. 

Despite his focus on driving, you can see the cogs in Johnny's head turning as he mulls over your question.

"I want ya to be mine, in every sense of the word. My girl, my pet, my love. Everything, and I want tae be the same to you." 

It's fortunate that you're stopped at a red light, so Johnny is free to look upon you, the meaning deep in his gaze stills you completely. 

The light turns green, stealing his attention back, yet he continues to elaborate—a fond smile on his face. 

"I'll always protect ya and look after ya, and you'll love me and care for me the way a good girl does." 

"I'll get ya a pretty little collar, and a day one too, so no one ever forgets who you belong to."

It's amazing to you how Johnny can make your heart thump and cunt throb all in one sentence, in one look. 

"We'll get you a cage, a nice training routine, and we'll fuck like animals." 

His hand returns to your thigh, just as respectful as it has been all the drive thus far. 

"And when we're not fucking each other's brains out, we're cuddling on the couch, going on dates, spending time with friends. All tha' normal couple stuff." He finishes up with a happy sigh, a far-off look in his eyes as he turns his attention back to you. 

"What about you?" 

After everything Johnny just said, an expression far beyond what you expected, you find it hard to verbalise anything at all, and certainly not something as wonderfully smooth and tempting. 

You open and close your mouth a few times before finally getting your words out.

"Pretty much exactly the same." You cringe internally at how lame and lacklustre your words sound in response. "I'd like the dynamic to extend beyond the bedroom if we can manage it. For me, there isn't really an off switch."

You can only assume Johnny sees eye-to-eye with you on that, considering he replied to your post in the first place. 

"Seems to come naturally with us, I like tha'." 

"Me too." 

Johnny removes his grasp from your thigh, opting to lace his fingers through the hand of yours sitting in your lap. "I'm glad we're on the same page, bonnie." 

You squeeze his hand, relishing the way he instantly squeezes back reassuringly. Despite being connected in this way, you find it hard to look at him as you stumble through a self-conscious admission. "I was a little worried it was gonna be just sex." 

"Already well beyond that, pet," Johnny replies in an instant, before chuckling and squeezing your hand again. "Dinnae go all shy on me now." 

"Why? I'm sure you enjoy seeing me blush and squirm." You mumble, trying to hide your blushing cheeks. 

Johnny hums, amused and content. "Good job tha' I know all the best ways to make it happen then." 

You hide your face in your other hand, cupping your burning cheek and disgusting your shy smile. "It's only gonna get worse for me too, I know it." 

"Promise to use my powers for good, lass." 

You meet Johnny's gaze again, and feel a deep joy and contentedness flowing through every part of you.

"You better." 

You drive through quiet, suburban streets on the outskirts of Hereford, rows of houses passing by until Johnny turns into a street—fairly empty, and neither upscale nor impoverished. On the end sits a house, since converted into two seemingly distinct flats.

"Here we are." He comments, pulling a car to a stop and turning off the engine. Johnny leaves the car first, eager to open the door for you once more. 

"Ooh, are you upstairs or downstairs?" You ask, looking at the flats and the surroundings. 

"Upstairs," Johnny replies, grabbing your bag again. "Landlady lives downstairs, sweet woman." 

Your mind is flooded with a little old lady, lonely and completely adoring when it comes to her young renter.  "I'm sure you have her completely charmed." You giggle, imagining the effect Johnny has on older women. 

"Oh aye." He laughs too, a knowing glint in his eye as he leads you up the stairs, unlocking the door. "Keeps trying to set me up with her daughter." 

"Is that so?" 

"Mhmm." 

As the door opens, the smell hits you—clean and fresh with an undertone of something masculine. The entryway is narrow and crowded with jackets and boots of all kinds. 

"I better tell her you're off limits." You joke, as Johnny steps aside to allow you in.

He doesn't reply, simply taking ahold of you and pinning you to the door, slamming it closed behind you. His firm hands pin you by the hips, pressing you between him and the door in an instant. 

"Johnny!" You gasp, breath stolen from you as Johnny is suddenly in your space—so close and hot and heavy. 

He leans in, one of his hands from your hips drifting up your body, trailing up your breast and your neck, before stopping at your jaw. His large hand cups your face, thumb swiping across the plush of your lips, parting them slightly for him—he's entirely transfixed, eyes filled with arousal as they flicker between your lips and your eyes.

Closing the final few inches, his lips brush against yours, and you can practically taste the mint in his breath. 

He dives in, kissing you fervently, pulling you flush against him as he practically devours your mouth with his lips and tongue. His teeth worry at your lip, his tongue collides with yours, and his hand at your waist grips you intently as a throaty groan leaves him. "Told you, pet, this mouth is mine now." taglist: @cooliofango @ramadiiiisme @pterodactyal @simonrillleyyysss @hexqueensupreme @ivymarquis @oilfics @ghosts-cyphera @msdrpreist @collmemabi @ysljoon @kmi-02 @mockerycrow @nakedcrackers @cassiecasluciluce @xcup1d @cloudsovercoffee @lovewithasideoflust @abbiesxox @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @bubuslutty want to be tagged? click here! want to be untagged? dm me or comment, i won't be offended <;3

[celebrimbormylove]

Sounds Beyond the Night

Hi, this is my first fic here and I think the rest of my works will continue to be about Celebrimbor as I am hopelessly in love with him. Anyways, enjoy!!! Let me know what you think of it!!!

Thank you @morganas-pendragons for being my sounding board <3

~ Kez

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“A sound so beautiful, it could make your heart race. Do you think such a thing exists?”

His words echoed in your mind while you were practicing an old piece of music. As a young elf, you enjoyed playing the flute whenever you had free time. This, unfortunately, stopped when you became old enough to truly immerse yourself in your studies, but your love for it never faded. It was the only thing that helped you clear your mind and yet, here you are. Unable to focus on your playing because of him.

 The great Elven master smith, Celebrimbor, was floating around your mind, effortlessly. You could spend your days thinking about him and it wouldn’t even bother you. Except for the fact that he barely knew of you. You had spoken once, and he had asked you a question that left you to feel beyond confused. Oh, how you wished to be closer to him. It seemed to be an impossible feat, as you were practically in two separate worlds. But still, your heart yearned for him.

“Did you forget how to play?”

The playful words from your dear friend, Elrond, snapped you out of your thoughts. You were so deep into your own mind that you didn’t see him approach, nor did you hear him call your name earlier. 

“I am perfectly fine, thank you very much.” You stood up and dusted some stray leaves off of your dress. Elrond seemed to always be there right when you needed him the most. While you could usually tell him anything, you found yourself unable to share the contents of your heart. Elrond looked up to Celebrimbor, and you feared that your feelings would make him uncomfortable.

“Yes of course, staring blankly into the distance is no doubt how you play the flute. Something is on your mind, is it not? Tell me.” He crossed his arms and attempted to give you a stern look, but it came off more as a look of concern. He always knew when you weren’t fully yourself.

“I cannot tell you.”  You avoided his gaze, as you knew it would break you. He frowned and turned slightly away from you, thinking of ways to get you to talk.

“Very well. I will let it go for now, seeing as I need your help.”  

“What do you need?”

“Follow me.”  Without even giving you a chance to respond, he started making his way down from the hill you stationed yourself at. You quickly grabbed your belongings and followed him, curiosity flowing through you as you did so.

“I need you to- oh hurry up would you.”  He was walking quickly and you had so many things to carry, hardly a fair thing for him to ask of you at that moment. “I am walking as fast as I can, now tell me what you need.”  You had managed to catch up to him, so you could converse without having to shout.

“I have to ask Lord Celebrimbor for a favour, and I need you there for moral support.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Admiring him from afar was one thing but now, your dear friend was asking you to be in the same vicinity as the man who could cause you to forget how to breathe. 

Noticing you had stopped, Elrond turned around with a confused look on his face. “Y/N? What is bothering you?”

You took a deep breath and tried to regain your composure. “Elrond, I have spoken to Lord Celebrimbor once. I do not believe I will be of any help.”

Elrond laughed and gently grabbed your arm. “Come Y/N. I know what it is that stops you. This is both for me and you. Trust me.”

You could not find the words to argue with him so you allowed yourself to be pulled along, towards the tower where Lord Celebrimbor was. The closer you got to it, the more nervous you became. Elrond, seeing this, gave you a comforting smile as he opened the doors and ushered you inside.

“Lord Celebrimbor, might I speak with you for a moment?”

Elrond’s voice rang throughout the room and the Elven smith walked out from behind a pillar to greet him.

“Ah, Elrond! How good it is to see you! And you have brought Y/N!”

He…knew your name? You had only spoken to him once, and you had not mentioned your name. So how on earth did he know it?

“It is a pleasure to see you again, my lord.” You bowed your head, which was both out of respect and to avoid his eyes.

Elrond began telling Celebrimbor about his project, which left you to casually wander through the room. There were many scrolls, both stacked neatly and tossed around, and a wide variety of tools could be found in every corner of the room. It was amazing how the line between chaos and order was so clear.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

You spun around quickly and stared blankly at Elrond. Apparently, his conversation had included you at some point. “So sorry, what do you need me to do?” You made your way over to the two, still avoiding Celebrimbor’s eyes.

“I need you to keep Lord Celebrimbor company while he works on this project for me. I fear it may bore him at some point.”

Upon hearing this, you decided to finally look at Celebrimbor, who was smiling fondly at you. As you stared into his eyes, you could see his brilliance shining through them. You wondered why you had avoided his gaze for so long, when his eyes were the most captivating thing you had ever seen. 

“Would that be alright with you, Y/N?” Elrond, while waiting for your answer, gave you a small smirk as he knew exactly how you felt. He had known for quite some time now, but wanted to give you the chance to tell him yourself. Seeing as you never did, he decided to take things into his own hands.

“Yes, of course.” 

“Wonderful! I will return in a week or so to check in on the progress.” Elrond bowed once more and left. Which meant that you and Celebrimbor were now alone. In his forge. It then dawned on you that you had no idea how to keep him from getting bored. In fact, you weren’t even sure if he ever got bored. He loved his work, that was clear to everyone.

“Forgive me, my lord, but I do not know how Elrond wished for me to help you. I doubt you find your work boring, no matter what it is you are making.” 

Celebrimbor had already begun working, so he did not look at you as he spoke.

“Elrond tells me you are quite talented with a flute. Perhaps you could play something?”

Ah, your flute. The flute that you promised yourself you wouldn’t play for others until you were confident enough in your abilities again. Elrond knew of this promise, and it seemed as though he had thought of a way to make you break it.

“Very well. Though I should mention, I have not played in the company of others in many years.”  You thought it was best to mention this now, in case you made mistakes or forgot parts of the pieces you were about to play.

He did not reply, though he was waiting for you to begin. You stood in the middle of the room, where you previously assessed was the best spot for acoustics, and began playing the piece you knew best. You closed your eyes, thinking back to the time when you first learned it. You were told that it was a story. A story about the stars, how they shined so warmly and yet, were so cold. How they reflected in the still waters of the night, almost close enough to touch. A song of love and yearning. 

The sound of gems falling onto the ground caused you to stop mid-song. You opened your eyes and quickly looked to where Celebrimbor was working. He was sitting now, his head in his hands and the gems he was previously inspecting, scattered across the floor.

“My lord? Are you alright?”

You placed your flute on a nearby table and quickly rushed to his side. Fear crossed your mind, as you knelt down beside him, gently pulling his hands away from his face. What you did not expect was to meet his eyes, beautiful as ever, yet filled with tears. 

“It was you? All this time?”

“What do you mean?” You stared up at him, confusion written across your face. As far as you knew, you had never played for him before.

He took your hands into his own, staring so deeply into your eyes, you felt as though he could see through your soul. “In the quiet hours of the night, I often find myself strolling through the city, trying to relax my mind. Though lately, I have heard the sweetest sounds, flowing through the night sky and towards the stars. I have heard a sound that I believed to have been blessed by the Valar themselves.”

You were at a loss for words. To hear the man you loved and admired speak so highly of your playing, it made your heart weak. You could no longer stay upright, so you decided to lay down flat on the ground.

“I have seen many beautiful things in my life, yet none compare to this sight before me.”  He couldn’t help but to admire you, as the gems that were once scattered meaninglessly were now surrounding you, like a halo of jewels. He felt as though he had seen the universe in this one moment. Nothing would ever compare to you, to your pure, raw beauty. 

There was no way for you to hide your face from him, as you began to blush from his words. He was staring down at you as though you were his best work. His most prized piece. His every word made your head spin.

“I wish I could see this for the rest of my years.”

“You can. If it is what you truly wish for.”  When you finally spoke, it was no more than a whisper. His eyes widened at your words, and he slowly slid off of his chair, kneeling down beside you.

“You would stay with me?” His voice was soft and gentle, like a summer night’s breeze.

You sat up so you could face him properly. Never in your life would you have imagined yourself in this situation. You face, mere centimeters away from his, as he poured his heart out to you. 

“I would stay with you, until the very end.”  You leaned in closer to him, closing your eyes as you rested your forehead against his. “My love for you would be the very blood rushing through your veins. It would be the air in your lungs. No power in this world, nor any other, could possibly take me away from you.”

You could feel his body relax as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as though he was afraid of losing you. He pulled his face away from yours briefly, to bask in your beauty once more, before he gently held your face in his hands and kissed you.

If the Valar had ever decided to bless him, it was at this moment. Where he felt as though the universe had shifted and stars had aligned. He had many accomplishments in his life, but none of them ever made him feel the way he did now. 

In the middle of the room, where you were safe in each other’s embrace, the world seemed to be at peace, even if it was only for a moment. For he had you, until the end of his days.

[gretavanlace]

Sugar II (part 2)

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: language, angst, Josh is perfect, angst, also maybe some angst

I’m so happy that you are all enjoying Sugar 2.0 as much as I am! I’ve missed this little world so much and it just makes me smile to know that you missed it too ❤️

Curled up into a tight ball under hotel room sheets, your mascara smudges across and stains the bleach-white pillowcases. And you might feel a little guilty about that if you could form a halfway coherent thought.

You’d expected a coworker, also dragged into town for this god forsaken conference, when you’d heard your name skittering across the marbled lobby floors. Turning to find Daniel, dripping in Greek God beauty and memories, had stolen the air from your lungs.

Quite literally, you had found it impossible to breathe for a few panicky moments as your eyes darted around in search of those that might be tagging along with him.

The warm, nostalgic feeling of stumbling across an old, dear friend had been overshadowed and twisted by fear…and a horrible, throbbing sadness; there was a time when this was your life…the last time anything had made any sense.

The overwhelming urge to sob in his arms had left you aching when he’d pulled you in for a bear hug. Somehow, his being so near had made home feel that much further away.

Take me to him. You’d wanted to beg Danny, clinging to his sturdy frame.

Now, you just want to run. To pack up your things in a hurry and flee the building as if it were engulfed in flames. You wish you were shoving your bag into an overhead compartment on a plane bound for anywhere that isn’t here.

This is too close. They are too close.

Three years it’s been, and he is still the first thing that weighs like sand on your mind when your eyes blink open in the morning…and your very last thought before they drift closed at night.

Has it really been three years? It doesn’t seem possible.

You think of Josh, too. Of course you do. But it is with a distant fondness for what you had. He is a pretty memory. A good memory. One you can recall easily, and with wistful affection. You can speak of him readily, with gentle sentiment. It was a great thing you had, and now it is no longer. Simple.

Jake.

You try so hard not to think of Jake, but he’s there all the time anyway. Cozied up inside your head like he owns the place, no matter how many times you’ve ordered him to vacate. He always was stubborn, and his memory has proven no different. There is a hole in your soul shaped exactly like him. Hardly a blip of light in your eyes; you left most of it there with him all those moons ago.

You could so easily satiate your searing need in some minuscule manner, via YouTube interviews, balcony seats at shows where you would stand no chance of being spotted. The wails of his guitar could pour from your speakers and right into your chest whenever it feels too hollow. You could fall asleep to samplings of his velveteen voice, rasping answers to questions floated from radio hosts and devour written pieces where he speaks so eloquently and with such reverence about his craft…

You could, but you don’t.

You do none of these things. It simply cuts too deeply.

Early on, you did. Tortured yourself as you sobbed and cried out in the night like a homesick child. Yes, in those early days, you’d punished your fractured heart and yearning mind with pain; sunk your teeth into and gnashed them together, fearful of letting go.

But you’ve found your way. Tripped clumsily along, patching together a new normal slowly. The diamond that rests upon your ring finger reminds you of that…and you feel sick with self loathing. Weeping in this strange bed over what used to be, while he waits at home for you, happily watering your plants and tending to the household chores. Loving you from a distance.

He sends you texts just to say he loves you, and so you’ll know you’re on his mind. To ask if you’d like him to pick up anything from the store so you won’t have to worry about it when you return home. To remind you that he adores you in a hundred little ways.

…and here you lie, in a bed that isn’t the one you share with him, chest caving in around your heart, squeezed up tight and longing for Jake.

Jake, Jake, Jake…always Jake. Why won’t he go away?

A knock, swift and sure, startles you out of your misery with a jolt.

You don’t plan to answer, that’s a given…you’re a mess, complete with a blotchy, tear streaked face, and swollen eyes…so you’re silent as you creep over to the door to have a peek through the peephole.

He looks angelic, waiting out there in the hall nervously fidgeting. His curls look like home and your fingers itch to touch them, innocently. Almost the same, and so different all at once, now closely clipped at the sides. He looks reminiscent of his younger self. A little like the Josh you’ve only ever known through pictures; the Josh before he swept into your life like a tornado of light and smiles. He always was so beautiful. So offbeat. So eclectically mishmashed together and esoteric.

It’s like spotting a twin flame that you never expected to see again. Like the dead has risen…

…and before you’re consciously aware of your actions, you’re sliding the lock and cracking open the door.

“Hello, sweet girl.” His voice is soothing, and weighed down heavy as it slams into your head and scrambles your brain.

“Josh,” is all you’re able to manage, stupidly.

“As beautiful as ever, mama.” He smiles, flashing that tiny gap in his teeth that used to make you weak.

“Now, listen,” he holds a hand up and then shoes away whatever notion he’s about to bring up, “Don’t you hold this against our dear Daniel…I know you didn’t want to see us,” he lowers his voice into a conspiring whisper, “but you should know, he’s become a terrible tattletale in your absence.”

Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the fact that you’ve left him standing in the hall like an unwelcome stranger. Against your better judgment, you invite him in.

He’s careful not to touch you, mindful of overstepping in a way that’s so out of character for him it makes you feel unsteady.

“You really do look lovely, sweetheart.” He smiles, “A vision. I’ve missed you, my friend. I’ve missed you very much.”

‘My friend’ stings a little at first, but within a blink, it settles and feels right - you were always friends. Friends before it became love, friends while it was love…

The Josh you knew possessed a great many talents, and quick adaptability was listed among them. He allowed the fickle winds of life to toss him about like no one you’d ever known, and had an ever present and uncannily firm grasp on relationships, and an admiration for how they can shift and morph.

He also always was a cool liar when it was for the greater good. Some things clearly never change.

Nervously, you sweep a hand through your hair and blot your eyes with the backs of your hands, “Lovely my ass…c’mere.”

With little reservation, you tug him in close and fold your arms around him. An unexpected huff of a laugh escapes you when you feel his familiar warmth.

He hugs you back, long and hard, with a soft, “Hi, baby, hi.”

“How’d you find me, you stalker?” You joke tenderly as he sways your bodies back and forth. “I didn’t give Danny my room number.”

That chuckle of his that you’d buried in the past trots out to say hello, “A trip to the front desk was all it took. Have you forgotten the Kiszka charm so easily?”

“Uh-huh,” you roll your eyes, though you’re still wrapped up tightly together and he cannot see.

“Okay,” he concedes “the Kiszka charm and maybe a hundred tucked into a hand or two.”

How strange that you had begged Danny not to tell him; his embrace is blissful and you’ve missed him terribly.

Still, there is a phantom in the room with the two of you, and you know without a doubt that he feels it too.

When he pulls back, his hands slip down your arms to clasp around yours…and he sees it.

“Oh my, mama,” he tugs it up closer for inspection, “would you look at that. Going to the chapel, huh?”

“I—“ for some unknown reason, you pull your hand away and tuck it behind your back as though you’ve been caught in a shameful act.

He tilts his head, regarding you carefully “Can we sit?”

With a welcoming gesture, you usher him in further, and like the gentleman he’s always been, he opts for the chair and doesn’t mention the disheveled bed, or its wept upon pillows.

After you settle in respectively, there’s a long stretch of silence in which you both seem to just sort of sink into being in the same room together again. Finally, he breaks the ice.

“He can’t know you’re here. It won’t be like this,” he waves a finger back and forth between the two of you, indicating the ease in which you’ve reunited.

A choked sob threatens to breach your lips at the mere mention of him, and your hand darts up to press it back.

“And he certainly can’t know about that.” Josh points to your ring winking obnoxiously in the light.

“Of course,” you nod rapidly, blinking tears back. “Yes, of course not…but, is he…” falling silent, your gaze lands on your bare toes and stays there.

“Is he, what?” Josh’s voice is kind, and you are so grateful for it. “Okay? No, sweetheart. He’s very far from okay. I should lie for him, I know I should. He’s my brother…I should tell you he’s happy. Happier than he’s ever been.”

“Will you?” There is a desperate hope in your plea that makes you cringe inwardly. “Will you tell me he’s happy?”

His eyes, so like his twins, and so full of sorrow, watch you for such a long time you begin to squirm this way and that in your seat. “Sit still, mama…” he finally scolds with the tiniest wink to soothe your anxiety, “he’s happy. He’s fine. But best if you just steer clear, alright?”

“So he’s happy? Or you should lie, Josh? Which is it?” Why are you asking? You don’t want to know. It’s infinitely easier to swallow the lie. You can’t stand the thought of Jake broken still and riddled with the pain you know so well.

With a sigh, he avoids your gaze. “You know the answer to that already, it seems. Are you?” His eyes flick towards your engagement ring, “Happy, I mean? Are you?”

Now it’s your turn to lie, “Yes. Very.”

He nods, and then glances at the mascara glaring from your pillows like evidence at trial. “Yes, it would seem so.”

“Josh, I—“

“Look,” he cuts you off, stressing with urgency. “We’re only here for the night. Lay low if you can. He’s bad off, and to see you would level him. To see you with that,” he once again points out your ring, “Would kill him. You leaving…”

A shaking breath rattles his shoulders, “It wasn’t easy for either of us, but Jake? Jake is still in that hotel room you walked out of a thousand nights ago. He never left, sweet girl. He never fucking left…and as much as I know that it’s not your fault…”

He trails off in thought and then drags in a hitching hiss of air, “As much as I know it isn’t either of our faults, I still place all that blame right here, with you and me. I can’t watch him descend any further, alright? So just lay low until we’re gone. For me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a thousand questions beating like bird’s wings against the cage of your mind, “Yes, of course.”

Another lull slips in to visit until he shakes his head slowly, “How did I ever manage to get over you? You truly are beautiful. I’d almost forgotten…that’s heartbreaking.”

There is an innocuous lilt to his tone that warms your soul like cocoa with the fattest marshmallow bobbing along in the mug, and you feel your cheeks turn pink under his open, golden gaze.

“Me?” You laugh, “What about you, gorgeous? I love the hair.”

“Oh, you know,” he brushes his palms over the sides with a bashful shrug, “I let Sam trim it, scissors slipped…had to do something.”

“Still blaming Sam for all of life’s tragedies?” You laugh again. You always did laugh so freely with him, and you’ve missed it more than you ever allowed yourself to realize.

He scoffs with the faintest roll of his sparkling eyes “Obviously. That’s what the youngest is for, mama. You know this. And speaking of Samuel, you understand that Daniel will tell him, right? Those two might as well just get married and call it a day.”

Another giggle sounds out of you, “Don’t be jealous, Joshua. It’s unbecoming. Danny loves you, too…and Sammy I would say definitely considers you a solid acquaintance.”

“Yes, well, my acquaintance would be thoroughly crushed if he didn’t get the chance to at least say hello to you. Maybe later tonight? After the show?” He leans forward and toys with the beads swinging between his knees. “How would that be?”

“Only Sammy?”

He holds up two fingers, scout’s honor, “Only Sammy.”

You agree, and catch up a while longer until it’s time for him to take his leave, and you can’t help the confession that blurts out of your mouth without eloquence.

“You said he never left that hotel room,” you waver with bitten back tears. “It wasn’t…I don’t want you to think…it took me a very long time to leave that room, too.”

One last time, before the door closes behind him, his eyes linger on your pillow and the evidence of your tears, and then find yours, “Sweetheart, are you sure you’ve left it at all?”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @jakesgrapejuice @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake

[foxgirlpirate]

Slight open letter/brain thoughts

It’s really weird trying to handle and accept the reality of someone having been out of my life for years now, especially when they were so integral to a lot of my own personal development as a trans woman today. And now that I’ve grown older and figured myself out more, it leaves me feeling that sense of like… yearning? In my soul, for that specific relationship again.

I wonder if she misses it like I do, and deep down wants to defy the impossible and just say hello again. Maybe the pain is too great for either of us, maybe we’re both holding ourselves back subconsciously to even consider the thought of truly making that move. I don’t think I ever want to close that door on her, that maybe one day we both would find it in us to see each other again in a better place and time.

I especially wonder if she even knows I’m on here anymore, if she keeps up with how I’m doing. That’d be nice. And if the very minor minuscule minute chance that she is, I guess I just wanna say…

Hi, mom. I think about you a lot, but in a good way. You took care of me in a very important part of my life, and helped me become the woman I am today. I was always happy to be there in your life, even if younger me was too insecure to realize that you loved me. I want to let you know that things are a lot different for me now. I find myself appreciating a lot of the smaller things in life, taking things as they come and really understanding the value in relationships and love. I’m a bit of a mom myself, now. I have two amazing (metaphorically) adopted trans girls that I’ve helped be a positive influence in their transition like you were for me.

I’ve finally done a lot of those transition goals I was pining for, too!! I got estrogen, i changed my name and sex, I still dress a lot like you when we were still in each other’s lives eheh. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, but I like to think I made it my own thing. And funniest of all, I’m a furry now, too. I’m sure you’ve seen the art, especially if you’ve seen my blog, but yeah!! I’m excited to kinda fully embrace that part of me for the first time ever.

Oh, you won’t believe this either, but I picked back up Old School Runescape. I know, insane thought, I remember how I was very mixed on it back then, but I really enjoy it now!!! I still have my old account with all the cool stuff you gave me, including that member’s cape and sweet sword. I noticed I was still on your friends list, and you on mine, and I don’t wanna remove you from it. So if you still play on that account, and ever see me online, hai! You’re not seeing things eheh. I’ve been doing a lot of the free quests just to do them, I find them very enjoyable. I’m still hanging around Lumbridge, spending my time leveling my mining and smithing, which I find very relaxing ^w^

Anyways, uh. I’ve been rattling on long enough. Hope you’ve been doing well, and yeah. I know I’m basically talking to a ghost right now, and a lot of my friends and followers are probably gonna think I’m crazy for talking to nobody, but. It feels like you’re right there, smiling at me from a distance.

Love ya, and I’m always thinking about you!

Bree <3

[eydi-andrius]

Fool Entire IV

warnings: verbal abuse, implied attempted r*pe, abuse of power, physical violence

Synopsis

If someone asked you who Prince Aemond was in your life, you probably would have said the love of your life.

Years have passed but still your heart yearns for him.

But you were no fool.

It was a lesson learned for you not to give your heart to a man who knows nothing but duty.

a/n: it's been a while huh? well it turns out i've already written chapters for this story and completely forgot about them. And yes, it was him with his slutty walk that made me check my WIPs for Aemond. 😂 Anyway! ENJOY! or I guess??? 🤺 It's also 3AM and I can't sleep. Augh!

Part III here.

🌿🌿🌿

"Then go." Simon replied nonchalantly.

"Did you even hear what I said?" You grimaced when he did not think twice giving you an answer to the questions you have been beating yourself to answer and choose from.

"I did." He said looking around.

"Then why did you recommend that I go back to court? You know how much I suffered." With a huff, you crossed your arms and glared at him.

"Little lady…. It is because, without a doubt, that you were born to be a noble lady. Tell me…how many times has someone been banished to a life full of riches for them to have an opportunity to go back without marrying? None." He also crossed his arms and glared back at you as he explained how his answer was the best one. He looks absolutely sure. And here you thought he would be the one to tell you not to.

"And based on your story, you were not going back as someone's fiance. I believe it is a win." He continued.

"How about my business then-"

"Nah uh. Once you become a noble lady again, you'll have more resources to use for it to grow. Think about it. Create your own wealth so if something happens and you were banished again, you'll have your own power. You will not go back to this slum. And your sister will be away from danger. Once an opportunity arises, you must seize it. Not everyone can get a second chance. Hear thy advice from a former mercenary. Seize it!" He squeezed his palm into fist and raised it in the air.

You can't help but chuckle on his antics and he bowed in front of you like an actor ending a play. Sometimes you cannot understand how he can act this way in a serious conversation.

"But I am serious, I won't be able to protect you always, especially now that I am having a child. I know how hard you thrive on your own and how much you have worked for you and your sister's life. However, we must know when to take chances when they show themselves. I admit that I worry about you. You are like a little sister of mine and I am saying this for your safety. Think about it." He gave a soft smile and tapped your nose.

In annoyance, you huffed and scrunched your face in disgust. How can an old man try to act adorable. He always does this when you look too serious and he usually follows the gesture with a…

"Alas! You're too young to worry too much about those things every time, so how about we move forward?" You can't help but roll your eyes. Simon will always be Simon. He is so predictable but you can always rely on his strength.

"Sister!" Your head snapped at the voice who called you and your eyes softened when you could see your sister sparkling with excitement at a fabric stall. The place looks dark for an afternoon. As if it was intentionally dimmed.

You smiled and went to her direction, followed closely by Simon.

"Look at it! The blue fabric glows in the dark!" She chirped and immediately showed you how beautifully the blue hue of the fabric looks, like the stars in the night. Glowing majestically from a gloomy night. It was gorgeous and you can't help but touch it. The fabric was soft, just like how you imagine clouds would feel, if you touch them. It is one of a kind and you can't help but be awed at how this cloth existed.

"Beautiful isn't it? The dye came from the ocean, while the fabric was loomed in a very certain way, making it so soft to the touch. You can only find that fabric available in our shop." The owner looks smug as he explains how they have gathered the needed materials for the said fabric. On how they made the cloth be so soft and how the dye looks so much alive, rather than just a glowing color at night.

"How much is it?" You asked, gulping nervously. Most of the time when owners introduce something this detailed the price will probably be something you can't afford.

You winced when he told you how much it was. The owner's face soured and shouted your party away as he saw how your face changed. He probably thought you and your sister were rich for having Simon around and also for having better clothing than the others in here. Of course, Simon did not back down without shouting his curses as well and calling the owner a bald bastard. You did your best to apologize but his mocking became too much and it was Simon who dragged you two away from the snobbish business man.

"Hah! That fabric is probably fake! That bald man really thought he could swindler us." Simon remarked bitterly as he copied how the business man introduced his product to you and your sister.

"Well, the fabric was truly beautiful and he seemed proud of it. It was our fault for not asking how much first. We wasted his time." You convinced him, but your tone still hurt by what happened.

"Oh don't start with that! That's the reason why you shouldn't be here at all. You become street smart, yes. But you still can't help putting logic on other people's bad behavior. If you know you're putting a new item for sale, you shouldn't treat your customers awfully for not being able to afford it. That was probably fake. Remember that." He rolled his eyes and walked in front of you and your sister with a frown. Your sister just giggled at you and you gave her a smile.

"I guess, we should continue and focus on our task at hand." With a deep breath, you opened the list of what you needed to buy and directed your company on what to do for today's leg work.

The afternoon sun was harsh as it beats you strolling around the market. Sweats build on your forehead and you can't help the amount of times you need to ask Simon for a break. You haggled, checked for new suppliers and searched the market for potential competitors like you always do to make sure you're top notch and following the trend. It helps a lot looking for new customers.

Once the shopping was done, you three decided to visit the brothel for refreshments. You'll just pay the girls there rather than here at the market.

However, there seems to be some sort of commotion. There were tons of people outside and you excused your way to see what was going on. You let out a horrified gasp when you saw bits of wood from broken tables and chairs. It was scattered everywhere. Looking around you saw the mistress, sitting in front of the door, dirtied and bruised. You ran towards the mistress and kneeled in front of her, asking her what happened. You helped to sit her on a chair that was brought out by one of the girls. She held her head. Her right cheek was swollen, eyes filled with fear. She looks pale too.

"Who did all of this!?" Simon yelled as he checked the damage and went inside the brothel.

Mysaria's business is protected not even by her connections but also by the Rouge Prince, Daemon Targaryen, so who in their right mind would do something so terrible and be bold.

"Are you feeling better?" You immediately handed over the goblet of water your sister brought to give to the mistress. You helped her tip over the cup and you told her to drink slowly. As you look closely, the red was starting to form like someone's hand, indicating that someone must have hurt her.

"You shouldn't be in here." Once she swallowed the water, she looked at you and grabbed your arm. Her eyes wide with worry.

"They're looking for you."

"Who?" Your heart beat faster and you can only think of someone who might be looking for you. His familiar back and silver hair flashes in your memory. Could it be possible that he found your connections with Mysaria already?

"They're back. The nobles who were looking for you to make you their slave." The horror in your face were visible and the fear you first felt about these people being Aemond were replaced with disgust and anger.

"How could they be so bold attacking Mysaria's place just to find a mere vanished lady?" You stood up and yelled. You can hear Simon and the other guards telling the outsiders to leave as they need to clean up the place.

"The Rouge Prince were removed as the head of the Night's Watch. He was banished by the King himself. And now, the position was empty. And those nobles with higher power acts like they own the place.

Is there really a time you could truly find peace?

"Go home. We can handle this. We did not say anything to them. The girls and I like you too much to let them find you. Go!" Before you can protest, one of the girls gives you two cloaks and pushes you away from the brothel. One of them dragged Simon out and she specifically told him to protect you on your way home.

The walk was quiet and tense. You can't help looking around you as you used another route to go home. The only time you stopped panicking was when Simon touched your shoulder and told you to breath. You did not realize you were holding on for a long time now. With worry, your sister called your name, held your hand and squeezed it to reassure you that you two will be safe.

While you do trust their words, it wasn't in your power to stop yourself from the trauma you suffered days after you were banished from the Red Keep.

You can't trust no one. Especially, the night guard's who known you to be Aemond's fiancé. You thought everyone liked you in court, that's why they were nice to you. But you were naive and only realized it a moment too late, when they were chasing you in the forest like a rabbit being hunted by wolves. They teased, cursed and insulted you as they do their best to locate you. They did not mention anything but you know they were planning to do some awful things to you. You were like a precious commodity that suddenly dropped in value and the fascination to have a taste of the person the Prince had, was an exotic opportunity for them.

You remembered the cold, your wet clothes from rain sticking on you like a second skin. Everything hurts and you were in pain but not a single thought about stopping from running crossed your mind. You cannot go home or else they will hurt your sister. So you did your best to get as far from home and lose them. You run before dawn and now you can see the sun peaking slowly above. You look behind you and you are sure you can't hear their voices anymore. You have to look for a way to go home now and get back. They probably got tired or maybe they got lost. But the most important thing was to meet your sister. You stepped towards a branch and the leaves gave way and you fell down towards a cliff. The area you stepped into had no land. It was a facade. Like a trap from nature. You did your best to shield your head from the impact and braced yourself as your body hit a tree. Your right arm was painful and your vision was spotted with black dots. Slowly, you don't know if it was because of the pain, hunger or exhaustion but your body succumbed to sleep but in your head, you forced yourself to stand up.

The moment you woke up, the smell of cooking meat woke you up. The fire crackles as it stirs the juicy part of the boar. It smells heavenly.

"Oh! Thank the Gods, you're awake. I thought my journey will be with me digging a grave for a dead body." The man wearing pleated armor and a sword looked at you, from his place sitting in front of the grilling meat.

You only widened your eyes and choked words as you panicked and did your best to move but failed as your body feels like it came from death.

"Woah! Woah! You don't have to worry. I am a stranger but I do not plan to hurt an injured lady. As you can see on my clothes, I am a mercenary and I'm on my way home to the capital when I saw you, almost dead in here. I gave you some medicine for the pain but it will take a while to work. I also bandaged the places I could. I don't have enough things so it is better for us to go to the capital once you are numb." He explained and as much as you do not trust him, he seems sincere to what he just said.

"Why are you in the middle of the forest, anyway?" He asked, curious and confused. He probably knew by now or at least for you, you think it was impossible for a lady to be alone in the forest but since he already checked your injuries, he knew you fought well.

You tried to swallow but there's no words coming out of your mouth. You looked at his container and he understood what you meant right away. He moved towards you and asked for your permission first before helping you out.

Once he tipped the body of his bottle, crisp water comforted your parched and wounded throat. It was heaven despite coughing a bit from the change of dry throat from cold water.

"Easy easy." He warned and you blinked in acknowledgement.

"I'm sorry. I was being chased by the night guards and ended here." You explained and his chill demeanor turned cold right away.

"Those bastards?" He asked. Voice gritty in anger.

"I can't believe they were trying to chase a girl to rape her. Did they not cut off all the cocks the past moon due to rape? Disgusting cows!" His forehead flexed in annoyance and veins started popping out from it. He looks angry, no, furious, as he yelled and cursed the golden cloaked protectors of the realm.

"Here drink this again. I hope this medicine works fast so we can leave here. I'm scared that those disgusting creatures will look for you again. They surely like being in power and abusing it. My darling almost fell victim of it so I promise that you can trust me." He looks serious and firm so all you did was nod and you did not hesitate to have his help.

You usually do not trust someone this fast anymore but there was something truthful and raw from his story. As if yours, even though a bit different, hit close to his experience.

And days after, you found out his name was Simon and her lover was once being taken advantage of those gold cloaked bastards.

He was seething as he told you what happened and you just stared at him the whole time. Somehow, you were grateful that the first one to help you can be a friend and an ally.

Years pass by and your friendship with Simon and his wife, flourished and you treat them like a family.

"Do not open your doors when you don't hear our secret knock. Also, make sure to make your place look like no one lives here. Stay at the back of the house near the other exit for the meantime and if you can live below for now. We are not sure if we can even trust your neighbors. I'll make sure to send food and the things you need." His grip on his sword tightened and you held his hand to stop him from hurting himself.

"I am grateful to be your friend, Simon. We will listen to you". You smiled unsure but you felt his tightened your hold for comfort and he breathed deeply.

"Be safe. I will make sure that they will not find you and the slums will vomit the likes of them. You are part of us now and we will protect you. "With a nod of understanding, Simon left and you and your sister were left by yourselves.

~~~~~

Simon kept his promise in taking care of the two of you as you laylow. You also got ahold of Mysaria and she told you to listen to Simon as she is too faraway to help. It seems like the blow of the fight between the Prince and the King kept Mysaria's power in question especially since she was asked to runaway with him. All she could do was say yes and do her best to appease the Rouge Prince to not kill and destroy her power that she established by herself.

Your sister did your best to entertain you and not mourn the hindrance that stopped your business. She had told you stories she heard, the things she learned and did her very best to take your mind off the worry. You were happy that she was doing her best and it did take your mind off the worry and you focused on learning more on how you can improve your business in Isolation.

However, it was way too peaceful. Sooner or later, something will go wrong. You just don't know when it will happen. So you pray. You pray to the Mother for protection. Hoping that she won't let her daughters of faith be harmed. Like she always has done for you for the past moons

[thedoctorsthings]

bts jealousy scenarios

someone asked for this but I'm an idiot who doesn't know how asks work so I lost it.

anyways the ask was just 'jealousy' and that lack of instruction made my autistic ass scared. Here it finally is.

warnings: one (1) sad ending, angst, drunk person, history student writer finding it necessary to put one historical au in there. (why do i try to be funny in these intro/warning thingies? nobody reads this. I am a jester putting on a clown's show for the deaf and blind)

WC: Don't know, don't care

KIM SEOKJIN

She's dancing. Not only is she dancing, she's dancing with her husband...and it's not him. He watches her swaying along the dance floor with the better man. Seokjin knew he was the better man. If he wasn't you wouldn't have married him. Your new husband Jinyoung lifts you up and twirls you around and you laugh, a sound clear as water. You smiled brighter when you were with Jinyoung, laughed harder, moved with more energy. Seokjin knew he had lost. Still he couldn't bring himself to be angry. You were happy. That was all that mattered. When he lost you years ago he'd signed up for a life on the sidelines and now he had to bear the consequences.

The song ended and you let your husband go. Seokjin walked over to you right after gathering all his courage and swallowing the frog in his throat. "dance with me!" you said before he could. He couldn't find any words so just took your hand and walked you back to the dancefloor. once you've found your rhythm and are softly rocking back and forth on the shiny floor of the gorgeous venue, he finally finds his voice. "Are you happy?", He asks. "of course", you beam. "Just wanted to make sure", he says almost whispering. your smile drops: "are you okay?" you ask concerned. "When you're with me always". "You need to let me go Jin". He sighs, tears welling up in his eyes: "I'm sorry". It's the last thing he says before walking away out of the venue into the night. He'll take enough with this. As long as you're in his life he would never truly be unhappy. He'd be the dry dust of the savannah spending his time waiting to be blessed by your rain. He'd be the moon yearning for the moments he could take some of your sunlight every once in a while. If this was all the both of you could be then that's how it would be.

MIN YOONGI

You were dancing with Mr. Fleatwood again. Yoongi knew he'd been courting you for more than 10 months now. It was killing him. Why couldn't he just work up the courage to ask you. To go to your house as a caller instead of just waiting for you to look in his direction. His family was much wealthier than yours so there was no need for him to be embarrassed, and yet he was. Something about your divine beauty, your quick wit and sharp intelligence made him a nervous wreck.

"why don't you ask her to dance? What's the worst thing that could happen?" Namjoon, his best friend had come to stand next to him, his wife on his arm. "She could look at me". "oh you melodramatic piece of work!" Namjoon's wife exclaimed. Yoongi sighed melodramatically: "I'm too late, she's been courted by Mr. Fleatwood for over 10 months. A proposal can't be far away". "exactly!" Namjoon said with a smile Yoongi found way to optimistic looking. "they've been courting for over a year and no proposal yet. They're taking too long. If you ask me, she's trying to shake him off". "I've learned not to ask you things", yoongi chuckled, but while his friend walked of he considered what he had said. Maybe he did have a chance. "worst case scenario she dumps her glass over your head. It's a hot summer night, it'll be refreshing. Just go for it before I do it for you", Namjoon's equally optimistic wife whispered near his ear. All right then, here goes nothing. Yoongi walks over to you. "Miss, might I have this dance?" "If you take me away from that bore of a Mr. Fleatwood you can have anything", you smiled.

KIM NAMJOON

Namjoon's watching you on set. He came here to surprise you at work. This way he could drive you home to the dinner he made for you. When you told him you would be acting in a romantic comedy he thought he would be able to handle it. Turns out he couldn't. Your co-star just threw you on the bed and was crawling over you. When he kissed you Namjoon decided it was time to take a bathroom break.

When he comes over the scene is done and you're getting ready to leave. "Hey honey!", you beam at him. "Yeah, hey honey", he huffs. "What's up with you?" you ask frowning. "Nothing, I'd just like to get home", he answer dramatically looking away from you. You chuckle and figure you have an idea about what's going on here. "okay, okay, I'm almost ready". When you're out of costume you leave with Namjoon to the parking lot. He doesn't say anything the whole way. When he starts driving and you look over to him to see him angrily sticking his tongue in his cheek you can't take it anymore. You try to hold in your laugh while you ask him: "Are you upset about the scene?" "Don't laugh at me", he says curtly. "Oh come on Namjoon don't be ridiculous, it was only a scene for a movie". Namjoon dramatically looks out the window. "Would it help you if I told you that my co-star is an absolute dick that I can't stand?" "Would that be true or just something to shush my hurt feelings?", Namjoon says with a small smile on his face. "It would very much be true". "Do you need me to beat him up for you?" You laugh: "I shouldn't have to ask you things like that, you should just do it". "I prepared a date for us", Namjoon says after laughing: "I'm sorry I overreacted". "It's okay, I get it".

JUNG HOSEOK

You're sitting in front of him at the restaurant you agreed on. Next to you is your boyfriend and next to him is his girlfriend. God how he hates this. Why did he agree to go on this double date? Why was he dating Jinae? He didn't love her. Why were you dating this douchebag? He didn't love you and Hoseok didn't even want to think about the possibility that you truly loved him. Lastly, why oh why was he not the one next to you? You should be dating him. Hoseok was sure he could give you everything you wanted, make you so much happier than he could. He saw the way your boyfriend looked at other women. How he made little comments that made your smile drop. Hoseok had spent this entire date moping and barely talking. "So how long have you been dating again?", your boyfriend asks. "eeuhm...", Hoseok hesitates just long enough to make it awkward before Jinae saves him: "almost a month". An awkward silence falls before you ask your boyfriend to go dance with you. Oh God that's right, this godforsaken restaurant has a dancefloor and romantic music playing. Your boyfriend manages to catch himself right in time but Hoseok saw he was about to roll his eyes. He would never do that. If you asked him to to dance with you he would be the happiest man on earth.

You're on the dancefloor slow dancing with your boyfriend and Hoseok stares holes into the back of your head while ignoring his girlfriend next to him. He knows he's being horrible to her. That she doesn't deserve this, but he couldn't stand to be alone while you were with someone. "they're so cute. Do you think we could ever be like that?", Jinae asks with an endeared look in her eyes. "no". "What is up with you? Why did you bring me here, you've been ignoring me all night", Jinae sounds clearly offended. "I don't know, I think we should break up".

PARK JIMIN

You're laying on your couch watching some romantic movie. An empty container of ice cream is laying on the floor in front of you and the tear streaks are still clear on your face. You and your boyfriend just broke up. Apparently He couldn't handle your close friendship with Jimin. It had started with him making sly remarks towards him and ended with him accusing you of cheating. Doors had been slammed and tears shed but it was over now, for good. You'd gone straight home and hadn't contacted anyone. you Just wanted to be alone.

All of a sudden your shaken awake by the ringing of your doorbell. After blinking your sleep away you get up to open the door. On the way there you look at the clock and see it's 2am. The bell rings again right before you open the door. Jimin almost falls onto your floor. "What are you doing here?" You ask softly. Jimin leans against the wall and manages to slur out: "You've ruined my life". He smells of alcohol. "Jimin, what are you talking about?" "I can't stop thinking about you and your stupid boyfriend. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years and now you have this idiot of a boyfriend. I hate him. he's so pretentious. You should be with me because when you're not it burns and I need you to make it stop. I know you love him. I know I don't have a chance with you. You're so smart and he's also smart and I'm not. You always talk about how amazing he is and I can't fucking take it. Maybe I should get out of your life, it hurts too much". All of this was rambled and a lot of it incomprehensible. after a moment of silence and Jimin trying to stay standing by holding on to the hallway mirror you say: "We broke up". "Come on Jimin, you can sleep on the couch and we'll talk tomorrow". "Okay, I love you", Jimin slurs while following you to the living room.

KIM TAEHYUNG

Your new fiancé has been proudly strutting around all night with you on his arm. You're gorgeous as always. His name was Dokyeom and he was annoyingly perfect. He was everything you deserved and everything Taehyung wasn't. You were the heiress of your mothers company and so you were always meant to marry the son of a rich family. That wasn't him. Taehyung came from an average family. The only reason he was here was because he was your best friend and you invited him to every single one of these events.

Dokyeom puts his arm around your waist, pulls you closer and Taehyung almost recoils. He couldn't take this. He had to get out of here. Since you were teenagers he'd been in love with you. Never once did he say anything. It would ruin your friendship with no point because he's always known you were to marry rich. And the worst part about all of this; you were happy. This would be so much easier if you hated Dokyeom. If you called Taehyung every night to complain about the horrible man your parents had arranged you to marry, but you didn't. You liked your fiancé.

He left. He had to. On his way out he asked one of your mutual friends to tell you he was sorry. He was just about to step out the door onto the street when he heard you call his name. "Taehyung, where are you going so early?" "oh, I'm just tired. Thought I'd head out early". "Without saying goodbye?" He hated this look on your face. Your face had fallen when he said that and now he felt horrible. You frowned and said: "you normally love these things. What's really going on?" He figured there was no point in lying. Maybe Namjoon had been right when he said that the best thing to do would be to be honest with you. So here he went; finally taking his chance after almost 10 years. "I can't do this Y/N. I can't watch you marry that guy. I love you. I love you so much and yet I can't stand to watch you be happy with someone else. I can't keep hurting myself.

"Run away with me", was all you answered.

JEON JUNGKOOK

He was going to kill that guy, and after that you. No, he would never do that; he loved you. He was just mad. Earlier tonight you had fought. You wanted to go out with your friends but when Jungkook saw the dress you were wearing he told you to change. It turned into a fight. You said he had no right to tell you what to wear and he had accused you of not respecting him. In hindsight he'd realised you were right. So now he was here at the club he knew you were at, to apologise. He didn't want to wait until you were back because then he'd be asleep and he knew that you wouldn't talk about it the next morning.

When he arrived he'd spotted you after a mere 2 seconds of looking at the dancefloor. You were dancing closely with some guy. He had his hands all over you but you seemed to drunk to realise. A couple seconds later you seemed to sober up a bit and told the guy to back of. He didn't of course. This was Jungkook's cue to step in. He marched up to the guy and pulled him away from you. "When a lady says back off, you back of alright you piece of filth". He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, "let's go home Y/N". "Okay, but I'm still mad at you". "Yeah about that", he lead you out of the club while saying: "I'm sorry about that, you were right I totally overreacted". He opened the car door for you and then went over to the driver's seat. "You should be able to wear what you want, I'll shut up about it next time". "Good". You said curtly. After a few minutes of silence you softly said "I'm sorry I stormed out without solving the argument". He looked over and smiled, "Forgiven and forgotten".

requests always welcome

[oh-shtars]

“This Wish” Rewrite ✨

(RFTS!Au Version)

Hello!! It’s Flicker here again!

I’ve decided to give a shot at rewriting Asha’s “I Want” song and see what I could come up with.

The original song was…okay. It’s not a bad thing to listen to. I personally think the chorus and the instrumental there is really pretty. It just felt weirdly lacking? I’m sure there are many people out there who share the same criticism with me, so I’m not going to go all out on that.

Anyways, back to the thing at hand.

For context:

RFTS!Asha is a servant girl at the castle who’s a dreamer and someone with a huge imagination for what there could be. The thing is, that spark has been buried down after the tragic loss of her father’s life. Now she’s terrified of having her hopes up, in fear of facing that same agony of losing another dream.

While she never lost that daydreaming habit of hers, Asha often finds herself cowering away rather than committing. And this often causes her to go back on some of her promises. She’s frustrated that this stupid flaw of hers is holding her back from reaching out to those she loves.

This is evident when Asha has secretly been noticing that Rosas’ citizens aren’t actually as happy as they claim to be. They’re dull, missing that zest and stuck in a cycle of dissatisfaction. She knows there must be something they’re missing but…what? As the king’s assistant, she’s the only one close to him with a chance to negotiate on what could be done to address this problem.

But it’s the king! He’s snapped at her times before. What if…? But what about the people she loves?

As Asha sings this song, she fights an internal battle within while expressing her frustrations and how she wants to break free from the chains she’s made for herself.

…………….

Isn’t this the place where dreams come true?

Then why does it all feel so way out of place?

If I could show them the life they have embraced,

Open their eyes to their own lies,

Would they question it all like I did?

But when I start, my head says “Sit Down,”

So how could I when I could barely be worth something?

For too long I have withdrawn, and avoided every song,

Now time has gone and now I don’t know where I belong,

So do I look up to the stars above me? Or keep caution at every warning sign?

Should I let the dreams within me rise and soar free?

Or should I pay no heed and stay in line?

Still, I hold this wish,

That they’ll have something more for them than this,

Still, I hold this wish,

That I’ll do something more for them than….this,

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah, ah-ah

More than this, (oh-ah-ah-ah)

For many years, I’ve kept my head down low,

Still did what I was told when someone told me ‘No,’

Yet, there’s a part of me who’s just yearning to glow,

A part that’s just longing to know,

It just won’t let me go!

With all these reservations and hesitations, I’m not sure where to even begin,

The risks and failures are daunting but I can’t just lose this fire from deep within,

If I could just be pointed in any given direction on where to go and what to do,

My legs are shaking but my head’s held high,

The way you always taught me to….

So I look up to the stars to guide me,

And pray that they’d send some kind of sign,

I’m sure there will be challenges that find me,

But I want to take them on one at a time,

So I make this wish,

That they’ll have something more for them than this,

So I make this wish,

That I’ll do something more for them than….this,

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah, ah-ah

More than this, (oh-ah-ah-ah)

So I make this wish…

That I’ll be something more….for us than…this…..

…….

The last line is meant to end at a sad note as Asha cowers away again, thinking that her wish to the skies has went unheard as per usual. No dramatic or hype instrumental at the end. Maybe a soft and melancholic melody instead?

Phew, my girl’s self esteem really is just: 📉📉📉

Btw, I want to make it clear that I AM NO SONGWRITER. So if the words are all clunky and weird at times, bear with me. 🥲

I don’t claim that this is “perfect” and “proof I could do better than Disney.” It’s just so I could better fit the song into my own version of the story. I might make a few changes along the way but we’ll see. :))

Thanks for Reading 💖

@annymation @gracebethartacc @signed-sapphire @uva124 @emillyverse @chillwildwave @tumblingdownthefoxden @ficsinhistory @your-ne1ghbor @rascalentertainments

[saintobio]

Omg ok ok hello! I had this huge rant in my head about sy and sn so pls feel free to ignore it, but I love your writing so much and it gives me some STRONG FEELINGS. First of all it surprised me that I like the way you write y/n cuz she doesn't become a "bitch" after the whole deal with Gojo and have some elaborate revenge plan, but she is also not a goody two shoes (even if she stayed with Gojo earlier but she had a lot of external pressure to stay in the marriage). Not that those tropes are necessarily bad but it's just more realistic this way. She's just a person who has been deeply hurt and is trying to do right by others. Even if she has made big mistakes, she still wants to make up for them cuz she's not completely in the right either. Also getting bashed by everyone for trying to make amends/ not following their advice regarding you own life; while very triggering for me (lol) is also just such a natural reaction. Not right, just natural. When things get out of people's hands and they want to blame someone for it, they often go for the one who is actually trying and won't retaliate if for nothing than to just keep the peace. Also wanting people to understand your side of the situation yet feeling undeserving of it at the same time because of your mistakes is UGHHH I feel like you do that so well! It's amazing but genuinely heartbreaking to see how far Satoru has come as a person too. Also when he thinks about how he wants to be a better person for Akemi IT MADE ME WANT TO PUT MY HEAD THROUGH A WALL... cuz WHY COULDN'T HE BE LIKE THAT FOR US!!! At the same time we have moved on without him, so if we are allowed that luxury then why isn't he? It's just so ANGSTY AND SO SO GOOD! Because we love Satoru we always will but he had a chance and he fricked it over terribly! So it would be idiotic to go back to him but at the same time the heart yearns for him. This is a side tangent but whenever any character says "this is not like you", "you have changed, this isn't how you'd act" makes me so MAD lol (maybe bc I am triggered?) But these guys WATCHED MY GIRL GO THROUGH SOME HORRIFIC SHIT AND STILL EXPECT HER TO NOT BE PERMANANTLY AND IRREVERSIBLY CHANGED???!! ;-;; IDK what they want from her oof >.< I do think Akemi is a shitty friend but I can't bring myself to hate her completely. Seeing them together is so ANGER INDUCING AAAAA (and her wanting a family with him is fine BUT THIS EARLY?!JUST AFTER ADMITTING YOU FEEL "SORRY" FOR BETRAYING US?! IT MAKES ME WANNA HURL HER TRHOUGH CONCRETE) but at the same time Satoru and Akemi both deserve someone who can love them. It feels hypocritical to be angry when we ourselves told him to move on and find someone who can love him the way he deserves. It's just very very shitty it had to be them. Sera is also such an interesting character. She has a lot of traits that I admire a lot. Her resourcefulness and complete and utter pride/confidence and being unashamed to ask for things/ stand up for herself (even when she is wrong) is something I wish I had sometimes. Still wanna stick her head through a toilet tho and yet when a person who slept with a married man can see the bloody violation of girls' code that is sleeping with your bff's EX HUSBAND oh BOY you should KNOW SOMETHING IS WRONG. I have no strong feelings for Toji (cuz I don't like him much anyways but that's just personal bias XD )but I do think his anger and frustration is well founded especially since he runs over whenever the reader needs him. He's so supportive and invested and honestly he deserves someone who can give that back to him. It's kinda sad but then again I don't like him much to begin with lol.

OH AND THE ENDING OF THE LAST CHAPTER IS SOOOOO PAINFUL. To always be the second choice even for YOUR SON OHHH MAN I'D RATHER YOU PUT A KNIFE THROUGH MY HEART ;-;

All in all I hate how much I love this series and love to hate these characters and take out my repressed anger on them cuz I can't do that irl. This series is my Roman Empire lol. It's so painful, yet so beautiful and it makes you FEEL so many things and yet hold out hope for things to become better. I love this, love you and your writing- ok mwah bye bye (and thank you if you read this rant put together by my post nap, barely coherent brain) I have so much more that I want to say. I can write essays about this series and how it uses so many technically "cliche" tropes but it is anything but cliche . Truly some of the best angst I have read like ever!

oh wow !! i don’t even know what to say, this feels like such a comprehensive review of the sy series sdksks but i think many readers could definitely relate with some of ur points here :D this is such a nice perspective to read, thank you so much for sharing and tysm for reading sn/sy aaaaa i’m happy u enjoy the angst as much as i do <3

[quarterlifekitty]

Happy birthday!! How was your trip around the sun?

🪻

I’m assuming this is lollyflower and you forgot the Lolly? If not, hello new anon !

Thank you for the birthday wishes. I’m selfishly going to take this opportunity to vent like I’m gonna be shot tomorrow.

Honestly like the latter half of the year has been very hard. In September I just had like a total mental crisis regarding who I am and whether the real me is this person, or if I’ve crammed myself into being this way because it’s how I think I should be— how I think others want me to be, how I can take up as little space and burden in the lives of others as possible.

My self image has tanked a lot over this past year. Constantly comparing myself to others. Failing to lose weight. Looking at all of my past attempts at intimacy and ultimately feeling intolerable and revolting in all ways. And for the past couple of years? I’d honestly accepted defeat. Those feelings of revulsion for myself laid dormant because I thought I had accepted that I would continue to be alone in my life. I thought I was okay with that. And so the world shattered when I felt myself start to yearn, truly want companionship, again. Honestly, it was a very well written fanfic that did it. The way they wrote the male character— it snapped me out of years spent allowing myself to drown beneath the surface of the water.

But now I’m gasping for air. And that means pain.

I probably won’t say what fic this was, on the chance that knowing this is hurtful for them. I can’t say if it was a bad or good thing.

Anyways, I have been utterly dreading this birthday. It’s the first birthday where I’m feeling my age. One quarter century, and this is where I am? It feels like it’s over in so many ways. That I’ve lost the chance to be pretty, young, and adventurous— not that I was ever pretty. I got my first grey hairs this year. I’ve spent most of my life in the same exact room and I can’t say I’ve been the better for it. Everyone says that you’re not old at 30, or 40– that you can still discover things for your whole life. And that’s true. But it’s also true that many people see women as Christmas cakes. No good past the 25th. For all that I’ve fantasized about being the may in a may/December relationship, my may is ending. And where am I?

That’s why I started this blog. I felt lonely and unbearably undesirable, as well as insanely sexually frustrated. It has given me a sense of purpose and community, which I thank everyone for wholeheartedly. It’s good for me to be writing again. I think it’s helping me, though I’m not always sure.

In summation, this has been perhaps the most difficult birthday for me so far. But I think it would’ve been much harder without all of you who read my silly things. So thank you. And truly, thank you if you’re someone who has ever had a fleeting thought of me or something I’ve made. To know I’ve touched the heart or mind of another human being is one of the things that continues to bring me comfort.

And to everyone else who contributes to this community, in whatever way, thank you for your hard work. We are all plucking at the strands of a grand spiderweb together. And when we do so, we make a song. And the spider at the center of the web will never find us for as long as it continues.

[dorytoss]

💘 IVY BRANNON FOR @flocy-sims NESTLED WITH NAFISA

Identity: Female Age: Young Adult Traits: Materialistic, Bookworm, Adventurous, Daydreamer (optional) Sexual Identity: Bisexual (publicly out) Favourite colour: Pink. She always tries to put Pink in her clothing. Your funny pink girly with glasses (rarely see sims with glasses and I want more of that as I wear glasses daily too)

LIKES :

To read,

to sing & play the piano (wanted to be a singer when she was young),

to travel and discover new horizons,

Loves physical contact,

Favorite type of date: a picnic date, where her lover and she could paint, read, and just cuddle forever.

DISLIKES :

To cook. She hates it. NEVER let her near a kitchen. Unless someone actually teaches her how to.

She hates fitness too. It's a chance that she doesn't gain wait easily because if she did, it would be a disaster.

Backstory:

Ivy has had a pretty good life. She was born and raised in Brindleton Bay, the city of animals. Her parents were nice, and her home was, well, homey. After the end of high school, she didn't want to be stuck at college. Instead, she dreamt of adventures, and fantasies, like the one she read in the many many books in her library. Oh yeah, Ivy is a bookworm. The scent of books, the noise of pages turning, that's such a turn-on for her. In the pure way of course. Anyway, with that in mind, Ivy asked her parents to go globetrotting for a year: Mount Komorebi, Selvadorada, Tartosa... You named it and she has visited it. She actually has an Instagram account where she posts pictures of her globetrotting journey. Maybe she'll have that in common with Nafisa? However, Ivy longs for stability after such a long time on the road. She finally wants to go to college and settle with someone. During her globetrotting, she had flings here and there, and trust me, IT WAS A BLAST. But now, she wants to actually see what it would be like to have a long-term partner.

Why participate in this challenge?

Well, Ivy hates boring. I mean, she globetrotted for god sake. So when she came across this announcement for the chance to win the heart and satisfy the appetite of Nafisa Echoe. And the fact that Nafisa was such a treat for the eye, well... let's just say she couldn't pass on the occasion. More than that, this opportunity might make Ivy create more memories and have an adventure worthy of being told in a book, far better than what she experienced before: Friends, betrayal, jealousy perhaps? This sure could be a great book, let it be if she wins or not. And who knows, perhaps the last chapter of that book could be "Our Happy End: Nafisa and Ivy".

More about her personality and goal for the future below!!

Personality:

Who am I to spoil you with her personality... when you can discover it during the show with Nafisa and the others? What I can tell you is that: Ivy is materialistic. Yeah bummer, she's not perfect. She picked it up during her globetrotting. While she may project an image of modesty and contentment, beneath the surface lies a relentless desire for material possessions and the status they confer. She knows she doesn't always need new bright and shiny things. But she just can't help herself. Perhaps it was always there, even when she was young. She’s always yearning for the shiniest thing, even if she wasn’t able to afford it. This actually caused her to go bankrupt during her trip, as she always wanted more than she could get.

Goals for the future:

- Become an author - Write a book about her adventures during her globetrotting - Obtain a literature degree from Britechester - Find love - Have a very big library in her future home.

[fatuismooches]

smooches you have no idea how much i want to be Pantalone's little househusband i promise im normal you dont get it! your post about a reader who has physical touch as their love language boosted this by like 9999999% i keep rereading the pantalone bit and giggling (also the zandik part broke my heart how could u... </3 /lh /pos)

i wanna cook him dinner when he gets home and offer him a kiss when he returns :(( I want to be surprised when he sees something that reminds him of of me and so he got it !!! I want to massage his shoulders and give him a kiss on the cheek as i do so :(((( I wanna wash his hair with no matter how much product as he uses :(((( I want to use a hair dyer and gently style his hair for him however he wants! I want to cuddle with him as he rambles about his day! I wanna help him get ready in the morning and help him with anything he needs !! i want to make him a cute little breakfast before he goes off to work !! I'd be so sad when he leaves :((( but then i realized he forgot his lunch, so before his break i waltz into his office and bring him his lunch with a kiss on the cheek! I crave domesticity with this man i am feral i am insane I'm running around in circles - 🎈 no one understands my yearning

TEEHEE I'M GLAD YOU LIKED THAT POST!! ❤️ (ALSO I DIDNT MEAN TO BREAK YOUR HEART NOOO IM SENDING ALL MY HUGS 🎈 ANON!!) And omg,,, you're so right ;(( THAT'S SOOOO CUTEE AHHH!! Indulging in all of the sweet little domestic things with Pantalone >>>

Ughh,,,,, him coming home after a super long day and all he wants to do is relax with you in bed, but as usual he comes home to a delicious smell wafting throughout the house and he already knows you're making his favorite ;)) And although he was tempted to skip dinner just to cuddle with you he can't say no to your cooking made with love!! And he certainly can't say no to hoisting you up on the counter and giving you a tonnnn of kisses while the meal finishes cooking! And the gifts? How could you not be ecstatic at his gifts? It's not just the large $ he drops on you as if it's nothing that makes you blush, but how he explains why he got it for you <33 We love a king who thinks of you always !!

Ohhhh he absolutely adores when you take care of him <3 you're such a good darling, going so far as to take care of your husband like this, even though you have your own responsibilities and troubles :( Pantalone loves how intimate and soft you are with him... your hands may not be as skilled as a professional but your rubs really make the stress roll away better than anyone... he's very fussy with his hair but you know all the tricks after being with him for so long :) You'll make sure he doesn't feel an ounce of pain or discomfort and ensure that it's as fluffy as usual! Don't let him fall asleep in the tub though... it's nearly impossible to get him out then. Though he'll totally pamper you the same way, better than royalty! Equal exchange and all! (Also because you're his beloved of course, even if you didn't he would still love you like that)

He loves rambling to you, because you're probably the only person that at least partially understands his rambles but also 100% willing to listen 🥺 Pantalone gets up quite early so he'll try not to wake you... but if you get up anyway to help him his heart would be blown into itty bitty pieces 🥰 He insists on you getting your 8+ hours but he can't deny he loves when his beloved gives him a goodbye kiss and sees him off for the day 🥰 Pantalone gives you a kiss back and reassures you he'll be back before you know it...

You could just send an agent to deliver his forgotten lunch but why would you ever lose out on the chance to see your husband?! Do the regular Fatuis say anything when you walk in with a very cute, delicious, and organized lunchbox for the Harbinger? Nope. Do they know not to disturb the Regrator when you're alone with him in his office? Yes. SO FREAKING CUTE 🎈 ANON AHHHQDWBDJWDND

[pseudowho]

hello once again, it's 🕊️ anon (aka anon with shitty rich friend) again

im so sorry for dumping all of this lore on you u this way, u dont have to reply to it

but there was so much more controversy when they got together. so basically it wasnt just me liking the guy. the guy (lets call him T)'s childhood best friend (lets call him M) was basically in love with the girl (lets call her S). M liked S for a whole year (S and T didnt even know each other that well) and when M confessed, S rejected and it was a pretty messy rejection (I dont know the details). a few months after that T and S started talking secretively and only a few people knew about this. so them getting together broke the lifelong friendship between T and M.

Now i am pretty good friends with M, but i hadnt ever told him that i liked T. recently after everything went down, i met up with him and told him that i used to like T. and this is how the convo went:

me: so i used to like T

him: i know

me: fym you know??

him: i could tell

me: since when?

him: 10th grade

me: right. does he know?

him: yes, we talked about it back then

me: so what did he say?

him: that youre not his type

me: ah okay fair

i basically put on my most nonchalant attitude to hide the fact that i was tweaking inside. now the fact that he knew got me thinking two things:

1. he knew i liked him during all the time i 'subtly' tried to get close to him and he shut me out in the driest way possible. im gonna curl up in a hole and wither into nonexistence.

2. he knew he had the opportunity to get over S before he fell hard simply by giving me a chance. but he chose to ruin his lifelong friendship then even consider being with me??

sorry im rambling but im 18 and ive never been liked or pursued by anyone and im the only one in my friendgroup with less than 0 experience which always makes me wonder if theres something wrong with me. there are moments where i see the good in me, but the negative thoughts almost always seem to outweigh the positive ones and the whole situation only seemed to fuel them and im once again so sorry for yapping so much.

the way this isnt even all because this whole situation caused me to almost lose my bestest friend too but thats a story for another day (maybe)

The idea that you're "unlikeable" comes to you, because in this instance, you were rejected by 100% of the people you had feelings for. Even though that was simply one person, to your brain, it feels like you would be undesirable to the whole world, because that one person- 100%- of the ones you wanted, weren't into you.

18 years old is also quite genuinely no age. I'd be concerned if you had been 'pursued' by loads of potential suitors. Most 18 year olds are, through no fault of their own and in no way an insult, so worried about themselves and where they fit in the world and how they come across to people, that they struggle to relax enough to really enjoy their romantic relationships without all the extraneous pressures anyway.

Tone down of the self loathing and work on the self reflection instead. Take a deep breath and a step back, and look at your perceived flaws objectively; what could you do to improve them? How can you work on making the best parts of you dominant? Being happier with and more confident in your own character is so much more important than being in a relationship.

It is FUCKING ROUGH and mortifying to have to reframe your memories of trying to get close to this guy, with the new information that he always knew and was rejecting you the whole time, adding context you never had. This will probably be one of those memories that makes you cringe at 25 years old, 35 years old, 55 years old...you get the point. You did nothing wrong; it's just one of those things. I'm sorry.

I fully, fully appreciate the yearning for love. It will come, really.

It is important, and perhaps difficult to accept thoughts, that it likely wasn't Her OR You. It does, truthfully, sound like he did not consider you an option at this point, for whatever reason; it certainly sounds so based on what your mutual friend says. So the anger of "he chose xxx over ME?!" is likely uncalled for, even though it's bloody hard being rejected.

I'm sorry your shitty friend went for your other shitty friend instead. They've got a lot of growing and learning to do as well.

And stop hating yourself. You're not detestable, like seem to think you are.

☝️ you, getting ready to go after these guys, I think, but you shouldn't, just BREATHE

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[moonspiritmars]

I saw Hadestown for the second time this past Friday. It's really difficult to put into words the impact this show has had on my heart and soul, but I figured I would try to anyways.

As someone who has a bit of a comically tragic backstory, (between the cracks of bad is so, so much good though, and I don't wish to minimize that) the multiple lessons and meanings of the show have soothed parts of me I previously thought incapable of being soothed.

Hadestown is about how hope is always the last to die. It is the musical personification of 'despite, despite, despite,' and it is about how if you never stop telling stories of hurt, pain, loss, love, then you never really lose the chance for things to someday be different. If you give up however, closing the book and putting it back on the shelf, you lose the chance to try just one more time.

The lesson Hadestown weaves that I hold closest to my heart is that despite the tragedy of its ending, the story is still important to tell. Not JUST because someday something may be different, but because more stories than not often end without a happily ever after, and those stories still mean something. they matter. they still breathe into the world love, loss, rebirth. most of all, they are still stories of hope.

I have chased after any sort of 'happily ever after,' my entire life. I have yearned for the chance to do things differently, just one more time. I have sought after a story that does not end in grief and loss. I have seen my story as incomplete because I have yet to have my own moment where I don't turn around, where I am not filled with doubt and fear. I have chased after stories that come easily to my peers-- stories that come easily to my peers because they haven't been surrounded by the same pain and loss. I compare my stories to those who have not had to grieve as much as I have (which to be clear, I am glad for) and I feel incomplete in that comparison.

Then, Hadestown reminds me that even if my story hasn't found its happily ever after yet, even if I never find that ending, it is a story still worth telling.

Hadestown makes me feel whole again when the pain makes me feel irreparably broken. It reminds me that I am not alone, that we are often surrounded by stories that end in sorrow, that a happily ever after is not what dictates if my life has meaning or not.

Hadestown also reminds us that we can't do it all alone. That we shouldn't have to do it all alone.

Even when Orpheus is journeying to Hadestown in search of Eurydice, he walks alone yet sings of not being so. "...I hear the walls repeating the falling of my feet and it sounds like drumming / and I am not alone, I hear the rocks and stones echoing my song..."

I could ramble on and on about the show and how much it means to me and all the lessons I take away from it, and maybe someday I'll continue my rambling, but I just think it's so, so beautiful the multitude of ways in which hope is instilled into the audience. I gain hope from knowing that we tell these stories again and again because someday things might be different, I gain hope knowing that we are never truly alone, but most of all, I gain hope seeing a show that says the end might bring sorrow, might bring pain, but the story is still worth telling. Not just because maybe someday things could change, but because a story that ends in tragedy is far from a wasted one. It is worth telling because it is simply that, a story, and all stories, regardless of their ending, bring meaning that can change the world as long as we share them one more time.