#dark and gritty and fucked up and messy

[sipthegossip-if]

THE TWO-HEADED CALF. A liar, a fiend, a two faced little bitch.

There are times when you can sense Shay's gaze on you, watching you intently like a hawk through the rims of their glass as they slowly take a sip. It travels down your figure, lingering at your collarbones, your hips, your throat when it bobs. It leaves you breathless. The intensity of their gaze. There is that itch to wrap your fingers around theirs when they stand beside you. You know they feel it too, judging from the way their fingers quiver by their sides.

But there are lines you shouldn't cross. Lines you both, badly, desperately, fiercely want to cross.

NON ESTABLISHED AFFAIR ROUTE : Shay has made a habit of lingering at the door longer than necessary, committing your features to memory as if they won't see you again. You notice it all. The subtle changes in their behaviour. The way their voice softens around the edges when your name rolls of their tongue, or how their breath hitches when they catch a waft of your scent, the way they bury their hands deep in their pockets— a slight tremor to their fingers after holding you for a little too long— because they don't want to be caught loving you. You think they notice the changes too. You think the intensity of it scares them horribly.

PRE-ESTABLISHED AFFAIR ROUTE : Most people would call them an angel. You know them too intimately to agree with that statement. The bitter taste of betrayal burns your tongue.

Shay had always been quick to pull on their clothes after the sex. They never stayed. You were not worth it. You shared haphazard kisses in dark alleys, one of you pressed against the wall, your hands sliding under their shirt, caressing their waist. A dirty, gritty, ugly, messy kind of hunger. There had never been anything soft to whatever you two did. Never a kiss to your forehead and a 'i will miss you, darling' as they stepped out of the door. No. Never. That's for lovers. You were anything but that. You wanted fun, shay wanted an escape from their miserably fucked up married life. You never expected anything more. So, this whole mess shouldn't bother you right?

Right?

PERSONALITY : Charming, out spoken and caring. Shiron has it all. One quick conversation with them is enough to make them anyone's beloved. A natural flirt. It's near impossible to be in the same room as them and not fall head over heels in love with them. They are popular for their unbridled sex appeal— something they pride themselves in and always use to their advantage.

APPEARANCE : Golden brown skin. 6'4. Amber gold eyes. A small scar on the left side of their upper lip. A mole at the corner of their right eye. Wears small, gold huggie earrings. m!toned build. A broad back. Shoulder length dark brown hair, dyed yellow at the tips. Slight stubble. f!curvy figure. Waist length brown hair, dyed yellow at the roots. Signature look : m!short nails painted yellow. Loose fitting, brown button down shirt with the top two buttons undone. High waisted, slightly loose, navy blue trousers. f!long nails painted blood red. Blood red bodycon with a thigh high slit. Red pencil heels.

[beelzeballing]

actually i dont think ive posted my thoughts on ofmd s2 overall here yet have i?

ok here goes: i think it had incredibly high highs, and at some parts i genuinely enjoyed it more than i did the first season, episode 6 being peak imo. however, it had equally abysmal lows with some glaring writing-, tone- and pacing issues that all came to a head in the finale.

i once read someone say that, if you ever feel like a finale ruined the whole story, maybe you should take another look at the story. there were most likely cracks and problems all along, and the finale did nothing besides dashing the hope that these would perhaps be addressed later. very rarely do genuinely well written stories go completely off the rails in the finale and ruin the whole thing.

i think this is applicable here in some ways, SPECIFICALLY in regards to edward. good god edward was a MESS this season, and it's so sad because i loved the starting point! the kraken era was absolutely terrifying and iconic as FUCK but... they shouldn't have leaned so hard into the drama and trauma of it all. don't get me wrong, i loved that it did. it's one of my favorite parts of the season and i'm so glad we got it. but if they wanted this arc to work with the overarching plot as they wrote it, they would've had to lighten up the tone here CONSIDERABLY. had they played the kraken era for comedy then sure! edward's bad youtuber apology would've been funny. his fast redemption would've been less jarring. the lack of consequences less disturbing. but as it stands in the show, this arc is too dark to function with the later episodes.

i feel like they wanted to have their cake and eat it too here. they wanted the gritty drama of ed coming off the hinges entirely but also didn't want to deal with the aftermath of such a heavy arc in their silly pirate romcom. be that due to time constraints and budget cuts or because they were simply unwilling to, doesn't really matter in the end. the result is the same either way: a very tonally messy season with some accidentally troubling implications regarding abuse.

and mentioning troubling implications regarding abuse; izzy. my poor, poor izzy... his arc was absolutely glorious. i liked izzy the second he showed up in s1 and i was absolutely EATING this season up in that regard. and i think in this case, they genuinely did fuck it all up in the finale with that one stupid choice:

choosing to kill izzy was the DUMBEST thing they couldve done here.

ive talked about this over and over and over again. ive reblogged so many meta posts. and still i am left absolutely flabbergasted by how stupid of a decision this was. the fridging, playing at the fallen woman trope, killing the beating heart of the season and the character who delivers what is essentially a thesis statement, killing off the character whose arc is about coming to terms with his disability, having him die in edward's arms, comforting him and apologizing after an entire season of finding community and love outside of edward, the absolutely godawful pacing of it all, the extremely easy and obvious solution of just having IZZY become the new captain of the revenge to mirror s1 and hammer home how much he has developed since then in one go... i could go on. and i have. it was a stupid writing decision, completely fucked the tone and pacing of the finale and took away attention and time from things that really would've deserved a better wrap up (lucius and black pete deserved better)

now. the whole prince ricky & zheng plot line... yeah that shit sucked ass, sorry. they bit off more than they could chew here. i honestly think those are the arc words of this season:

✨️ bit off more than they could chew ✨️

right off the bat: i think he was good as a concept. bringing in a foil for stede who just doesn't Get It as stede does could've made for very good comedy and drama (and to be fair there is some of that). but that shit got away from them extremely quickly. nothing about how he's implemented past his first episode works, and i think this is very specifically because he's mostly played as the comic relief in his debut episode. making this completely bumbling fool, who gets his nose hacked off on his first job, the main villain of your entire season is... definitely a choice. idk. he didn't work for me at all.

ok wow mentioning shit getting away from the writers. this definitely got away from me. this was supposed to be a short lil post. well. i guess tl;dr i loved this season but jesus christ there was a lot wrong with it. if you want to hear more thoughts. ask box is open. be my guest. i have more to say so even if you dont ask i might add more to this at some point but im tired and have work tmrw.

[lychniis]

tw. rant beneath the cut.

with the amount of anti dark content posts going around i might just start trolling people because good god, even if i love arranged marriage au's do i have problems with it outside of fandom spaces.

maybe i should go out there with all that horrific bluster those users seem to hold and detail how people are problematic for liking arranged marriage au's. oh you like arranged marriage fluff? you're 'normalizing problematic content' then and thus, you deserve to be called out and mass reported.

'but it's not that problematic'

sweetie, most of my issues stem from the fact that my parents hated each other due to a forced marriage. i grew up in a country where marital abuse is normal. where men and women are forced to marry each other, either subtly or outright. i was almost sold off if i hadn't passed my 12th grade papers and any fucking report over it would have been met with an "aiyo putta but if you don't go to university then what will you do? getting married is the next best option, no?"

sure anna. i guess i'll just roll over and die then.

if you like arranged marriages as a trope, great! so do i! but there is a deep seated hypocrisy where some problematic tropes are accepted, especially in western spaces, because they are so disconnected from the issues these tropes entail. i'll be straight up. if you are not fond fictional incest, non con and other dark content, that's okay. we have preferences. filter your tags. curate your experiences. stay safe. real predators aren't so outright. i'm not a fan of incest myself and content with that stuff is blocked and ignored with little fuss.

but if you go about making whole callout posts for people who do, actively censoring and mass reporting their accounts instead of blocking and moving on, but then turn gush over an 'arranged marriage au fluff' with ayato then good god look at a mirror because you are not at a moral high ground for liking a trope with less moral implications in fics.

if you did care about people irl, you would be looking into it.

you would be renouncing a good chunk of 'acceptable fanfic tropes'.

you would be renouncing fanfic as a whole because it's just as fucking illegal as incest and smut and dark content. or need i remind you of the number of petitions people keep signing to stop the law from suing fandoms?

because a lot of these tropes? well they are still 'issues irl' as you so like to put it. i could get into the nitty gritty of arranged marriages in this country and how messy they can get. but i won't. i know you enjoying this trope is purely in a fictional set up, that you won't condone it in real life.

but you won't. you'll cherry pick what's okay with you. you'll keep screaming at the top of your voice. do it. you'll be blocked by most of the good creators on this site. you'll have your little space of haters and you can stay in that corner while we go about our lives and ignore you.

this is the first and last time i'm posting about this. i'm not keen on censoring any content.

[tabithatwo]

Can I ask why you don’t like this new season of yj? No hate or anything, I’m just genuinely curious

I’m so tired and probably won’t be very coherent but that’s okay there’s like six more of these in my asks if I want a second more thorough answer tomorrow lol but a lot of how I feel is in posts on my blog and I’ll just talk mostly 2x08 here. I’ve been hanging on tight until this episode but it has BROKEN me. Like I’m in mourning lol. To anyone who likes it I’m so happy for you I’m not coming for you at all.

But to me the main issue I’ve had is how they have constantly had opportunities to go DARK and SHOW the devolution but they played it very fucking safe (the makeup being the catalyst, Shauna’s birth being truly the safest option possible, like an episode of call the midwife except a fucked up dream happens, etc) and there was no actual build to the level of violence and depravity (or even RELIGION BUILDING) that the card draw sacrifice calls for. The ate Jackie because she was already dead and the wilderness slow cooked her, they were all mourning the baby last episode, they showed us Misty feeling potentially genuine remorse and guilt for Crystal? The “cult stuff” up until now has been mostly fucking dbt techniques and self harm. Yes the shauna lottie last episode was intense but we got absolutely zero follow up on it in any real characterization way for shauna this episode.

Then they kicked us out of the room when the decision was being made and I PROMISE people who think that was a shit move are largely not thinking they needed to explain the card game. It’s about showing your characters in pivotal huge moments. Yellowjackets is advertised and set up in s1 as a psychological horror. I want to see the characters GRAPPLE with things in a psychological horror. Seeing how they got from point a to point b isn’t about understanding the rules of their game, it’s about seeing developed characters reactions to crazy fucking shit.

Instead we get a jump straight into everyone drawing a card and the group deciding to kill one of their two hunters. Would some be on board with no questions asked? sure, but to ask the audience to believe that it just Makes Sense that they landed here after being very fucking relatively TAME all season until that one fight (I was so scared after that scene and no one reacting that this is the jump they were making, based on one moment alone and I was so sad to see it happen lol) is a big ask.

Now add on top of that the way they’re cutting us out of the actual character driven moments. That wasn’t psychological horror, that wasn’t delving into characters psyches like we’ve been promised. It was a thriller moment, change on a dime, maybe for shock value I guess. To me that interim would’ve been a very hard scene to write, a glimpse even of them deciding and reckoning with this belief and darkness in themselves. It’s a large group with a lot to juggle and big messy dynamics. And the easy way out of that is to just not show it at all.

People keep saying “they don’t have time to develop things this season because of side plots.” But they CHOSE to have those side plots in the first place. They’re filling shit in because they don’t WANT to get into the nitty gritty. We watched musical theater and cops and whatever the hell else and whatever. Fine. Sure. But it isn’t that those plots magically overtook some extra brilliant deep moments that they planned on showing with these characters to actually WITNESS their devolution, like s1 set us up to expect. They added them to fill empty space.

I GET that they become brutal. I GET that they devolve. I UNDERSTAND that from moment fucking one. The draw of the show to me is not watching them chase someone. We got that in the first scene. It’s seeing HOW they get there. What has to happen to get them to that place AND how does it impact each main character. Don’t just list the bad things for me. Show me their reasoning and their religion building and their arguing and their giving in. That’s what the real story is to me. Because we just saw them do their first ritual kill, but we didn’t see much more DEPTH to it, with these characters that we’ve now spent 18 episode getting to know, than the pilot already showed us.

1 am ramblings please forgive confusing turns of phrase or typos lol

[r18rp]

🎀🎀hello! i’m a twenty-nine year old writer. i’ve been writing for 10+ years and currently looking for someone 21+ to write with for a femdom-centric plot. ideally, this would feature dark/mature subject matter along with smut, however it will also feature a lot of plot/story/ideally romance too.

overall, looking for someone who loves to plot/headcanon/friendly banter/and ideally, do this long-term. i would describe my writing style as casually lit to novella and enjoy writing something that might be 2-5 paragraphs long or longer. i’m here for all your nitty gritty details and also love good prose. also happy to match but not really into anything too short. i can share writing samples and hope you can too. i can post anything from 1-3 times a week.

i would like an m x f pairing, with myself playing the dominant female character. i have an oc who is malleable but i also enjoy making oc’s on the spot. we can also both play switches if that’s more comfortable for you.

here are some plots i was thinking about (hope you find these fun and feel free to change/elaborate. they’re just fun tropes to use as a jump-off point):

1. mob daughter x bodyguard - he’s looking to move up in the family and is assigned to watch over her. however, it’s more than he’s bargained for. or perhaps, it’s unlocked things he wasn’t sure he ever liked.

2. victorian governess or ward or maid x master of the house - something vibey in the foggy english moors, where someone can get spanked with a riding crop in a hedge maze. here for stilted conversations, trying to be polite/keep up decorum, but overall messy sex in a huge manor akin to saltburn

3. popular gregarious type guy x cold icy girl - all over my tiktok is the golden retriever boyfriend who’s happy, excitable, and fun. what if behind closed doors, despite being “the man,” he’s really just her bitch

4. coworkers - he could be the boss at the day job, but by night…

5. local cop x stripper / prostitute / teacher etc. - he could be a bad cop, he could be a good cop, either way, he’s being cuffed to the bed

6. virgin male x dominatrix - ideally, the male character has fantasized about this for a long time and has hired someone to do the job

7. teen idol (female) x serious hollywood actor - he’s an action star, no one should know he’s nothing like the characters he plays on tv

8. vampire hunter x vampire / werewolf hunter etc.

9. student x teacher

10. prisoner x prison guard

11. kidnapper / stalker x victim - essentially where an uno reverse happens

honestly, very open minded. things i would be open to incorporate: body worship, cock rings, pegging, fucking machines, toys, romance, shame, societal expectations, subversions to gender norms / roles, messy feelings and emotions, hurt/comfort, secret relationships, cheating infidelity, age gaps, dead dove content, a/b/o tropes, and feel free to suggest.

please leave a like and i’ll reach out with my discord info.

★ like the ad if you're interested !

[angie-long-legs]

❝ i’ll never look at you the same, i hope you know that. ❞ - from Hotel Husk LET'S PLAY AROUND WITH THE TIMELINE BAYBEEE

betrayal prompts

This was exactly what Angel had been afraid of. This was exactly why he didn't want to go back to the hotel and face the music, to own up to his abhorrent behaviour in the name of doing the right thing. In one fell swoop, he had found himself shunned by the only people he truly considered family, and he couldn't stand it. He deserved it, he knew damn well he deserved it - but that didn't make it any easier to swallow.

He could live without Vox's forgiveness. He suspected he would - being framed for drugging and assaulting someone wasn't exactly the kind of thing that could be patched up with an apology. He could live with Charlie's bare-faced disappointment, with Alastor's hatred; he could choke it all down, soothed in the knowledge that he had it coming.

But Husk?

Husk was Angel's solace, his sliver of something real in a world that worshipped who they wanted him to be. Husk loved him for who he was underneath it all, every flaw and blemish, every dark secret and every terrible truth.

Almost. Not every.

Not anymore.

Now, Husk wouldn't even look at him. Angel reminded himself that he had been the one to insist he and Husk talk this out after he had shown up at the hotel following his two-week disappearance. Having confessed his sins to the audience of his horrified friends, he needed time alone with Husk to fully explain, to conjure up something that excused his actions and exonerated him from blame. He could win Husk's favour again if he just gave him the context, the details, the nitty-gritty of all his reckless and heartless behaviour. Angel could talk his way out of anything.

He stared at Husk in silence.

What could he say? Sorry I blamed a grieving man for a violent crime just so I wouldn't get caught using? Sorry I didn't tell you that I was grieving Valentino, I feel lost without him? Sorry I cheated on you with Vox, it's just he's the only link I still have to Val? Sorry I stole from Charlie and lied about being sober and slept around with strangers, sorry I didn't tell you I was in withdrawal from Val's pheromone, sorry I didn't tell you that I actually loved the man whose death you thought I was celebrating?

It was ridiculous. It was futile, he couldn't say all that, it was ludicrous to even try. It was messy and ugly and Husk should wash his hands of it, of him. If he had any sense, he would.

And yet, Angel couldn't bear to let him. Arms crossed over his body as though he were hiding behind them, he gazed stubbornly at his shoes. Get them before they get you. Tell him you're through with him.

Fuck, he couldn't do that either. What could he do? Why the fuck did he ask Husk if they could talk? He had nothing to say.

Scowling, he bit his lip as hot, angry tears pricked the inner corners of his eyes. There was no saving this. He had to take it on the chin.

"Are you finishin' with me?" he muttered, eyes still fixed on the floor. "Cuz, uh, might help ta know we're ova' before I do the whole beggin' yer forgiveness thing. Save us both the headache."

[a-wild-things-rambles]

Hey, I saw your posts on thoughts about John. Fully agree. He's just our broken man. Now I propose - why do we fans like him so much?? Despite it all??

I'd like to read your two cents on all reasons why we like John Constantine (in my John brainrot era while I am waiting for my issue of Hellblazer, which got delayed to come)

Thank you!

And in my opinion its cause he's human. Hes messy. For all the magic, hes broken in a very familiar way.

Alot of characters with flaws have them in a way that's, let's say airbrushed, and the idea of a 'good victim' kinda shines through. If you forgive your abuser or the person thar ruined your life, your a hero. If you don't? Your an insane maniac.

John is miles away from being a perfect victim. But it makes alot of people relate to him, such as myself.

My trauma and abuse didn't make me a nicer person, I reacted, like alot of people, by being an asshole, hell the whole "dad abused him so he got into fights to feel tougher" is me minus the father's physical abuse.

Hes a messily flawed chareter, from his bones out, but he's realistically messy and flawed. Not oh I feel angry sometimes so I am afraid of myself and other flaws that often feel shallow and slaped on.

Another factor is the "english story type" to paraphrase and misquote, "Americans want to see people succeed where they failed, British people want to see people fail were they fail" a sweeping generalisation I know, but it does observe a trend in the countrys media's.

John is a failure. In many ways. And it's relatable. He can't or won't get a steady job, he's haunted by guilt and actual ghosts, hes a failure of a brother and an uncle and just a human being. He fuckes up almost every good thing that happens to him.

Sometimes in media its nice to be reminded that not everything's perfect. Sometimes it's nice to watch someone's life fall apart in similar ways to your own.

Johns authentic. There's a reason why so many of his writers report seeing him, he's a charecter that so easily transfers to our world.

Hes also an asshole. And who doesn't love a charecter that's a snarky mess.

Hes a perfect example of making a fully fleshed out person, not just a charecter, the kind of charecter that has such a clear personality.

Authentic. Is the best way to say it I think. There is nothing sanitised about John, and his story's are gritty and harsh and darkly ridiculous and they speak Truths. Not morality plays or grittynes for the sake of grit, but Truths, and story's. These are story's that could be about real people, and are almost always about real issues, handled with dark humor and some tough in cheek satire when needed.

If I had a time machine and interviewed all the various hellblazer writers, I bet I could get multiple new story's, personal and second hand anecdotes, for each story, the personal connections and real life events and experiences that went into the comics.

John is a reflection of our world and our issues, but through comic pages and some urban fantasy, it becomes easier to swallow, while also providing vindication and a reminder that these things do/did happen, in a world that feels so often like it's trying to erase them.

I hope that answers your question! I haven't talked much about the contents of his story's, more the meta and ideas and themes surrounding it that are why I love him and hellblazer so much, and hope your hellblazer arrives soon!

[narrators-journal]

I mdr the katsubao request earlier. I meant the one where Baofu is being tied up. Sorry for the confusion, I should have specified.

I know I said I wouldn’t answer these asks until after October, but I’ve been picking at and working on them while I wait for day 1, and I still have two days left before that. So, I decided to take mercy and post this, and the other one if I finish it, early. Because it feels SO mean to just, leave you waiting until after kinktober if the story’s been finished already, y’know? And, I know it’s not real heavy on the dacryphilia, I’m not too experienced with that kink, and I need to research it more to figure out how to make it good and sexy. But! I tried, it’s there, at least in spirit, so I hope you can enjoy!

CW: Light dacryphilia, as stated. Masochism, sadism, bondage, all that plus some knife kink are all implied. Though, the sadism and masochism does pop up a bit, so those are definitely there. Also! this is a part two, so if you want more of those listed things, check out the first part!

Hours. Katsuya Suou had ‘vented’ onto Baofu, for two hours straight.

Which, the taiwanese man almost had to admire the cop for that fact. Both for the stamina, and the consistency of his anger. But, at the same time, it frustrated him. It was frustrating in so many carnal ways to be held captive by thick belts, in a barely lit room befitting some gritty noir interrogation room, while his nemesis sat draped into a kitchen chair across from him with his usual composed appearance disshevelled from exertion. “Had some rage built up, Katsudon?” He asked, the edge of bitterness in his raspy voice shamelessly evident. His dark, tear-filled eyes locked onto the brunette in front of him through his curtain of long, inky hair. Able to admire the way Tatsuya’s big brother, an ever put together detective, had tugged his tie loose, taken off his grey blazer to toss over towards the dying lamp in the distant corner of his living room, and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his maroon shirt.

Because fuck, he was even hotter when he was like that. When he was unkempt, with an arm lazily slung over the back of his chair while he watched the last of the hacker’s cigarette’s burn, and an ash tray between his thighs for the smoldering remains of the cigarette’s he’d already crushed out on Baofu’s skin. Which, wasn’t a sight that Baofu was exactly a stranger to, he’d been in fights with, and against Katsuya Suou. He’d seen the detective’s hazelnut hair messy and barely kept out of his eyes, and he’d seen him bloodied and pissed. But there was just something extra hot about the sight of him with a bloodied knife in hand, his hair drooping back into his tanned face from where he’d finger-combed it, and his dark brown eyes still alight with anger even as he watched smoke drift off of the last remaining cigarette that he held between two fingers so that the persona user could admire the dim glow of the cherry. “I would say sorry, but your erection is enough assurance that you don’t care.” He muttered, his voice deepened with his dark mood and lack of energy, and only a single, pointed glance thrown in Baofu’s direction. Which, earned a small, humorless chuckle from the beaten up man before he did his best to shake the chunks of ebony hair from his face to properly glare at the detective. Who, met his gaze in cold indifference to his annoyance before his warm brown eyes sparked with what the taiwanese man could instantly recognize as a sliver of lust.

So, Katsuya wasn’t the only one to raise an eyebrow, but he spoke quicker. “Are you crying, Baofu?” “Fuck no.” Was the quick, hostile response he got, as if the long-haired ravenette had any reason to be ashamed of how good it felt to cry when Katsuya already seemed far too interested in that detail. Though, maybe that ember of enjoyment was exactlywhy he denied the question with a spat out,“I have enough of a pain tolerance not to bawl over some pussy ass cigarette burns and cat scratches. These are from that frustration you’ve noticed.” which, only seemed to further intrigue the brunette that sat in front of him, before he gave the hacker a devilish grin.

Which, Baofu was ashamed to admit to himself, simultaneously made his neglected erection ache, and scared the shit out of the him. So, to watch the tall brunette stab the knife into the chair’s seat beside the ash tray. To watch him get to his feet and approach him with a cigarette in his hand. To watch as lust mingled with the anger in his eyes while the ravenette was tied to the chair, unable to do anything, was...surprising the same way Baofu’s pleasure at the tears in his eyes was surprising.

Yet, instead of extinguishing the cigarette on the taiwanese man’s skin again, Katsuya put it to Baofu’s bloodied lips to allow him to actually smoke his last cigarette. So, for a few beats, the pair sat in a moment of silence while the cop studied the ravenette’s expression as if he would find some unspoken confession in his dark eyes. The simple proximity within that single moment enough for the long-haired man to get a lung full of the brunette’s allspice-scented cologne and mentally note how the smoke of the cigarette mixed with the smell. Almost as if Baofu’s own smoke-heavy scent mingled with Katsuya’s just as intimately as the moment they currently shared. “You know, you’re quite pretty when you cry.” The brunette suddenly muttered, his low voice like a dark growl that pulled Baofu from his thoughts like Katsuya pulled the cigarette away. “Huh? What is that supposed to mean?” He asked with a puff of smoke to carry his words. Dark eyes narrowed and suspicious in the blink of an eye. More-so when he saw the embers of a lewd mischief strengthen in the detective’s warm eyes. Though, they dimmed a bit when Baofu spoke, replaced with a moment of introspection before the detective hummed, “I guess I’m just into that.” almost casual as he said it, and his words punctuated when his fingers tangled back into the bound man’s long hair to roughly tilt his head back so that he could properly admire the way the pain brought more tears to the man’s eyes as he continued in that nonchalant, tired tone, “Or maybe I’m just kind of attracted to you. I don’t care enough to question it tonight.”

With that, the brunette put the cigarette back up to Baofu’s lips to allow him another drag that illuminated the cherry at the end, casting a dim glow onto the officer’s sun-kissed skin before he, once again, retracted the nicotine. This time, crushing it out on the ravenette’s neck to earn a pained hiss and make a single tear trail down Baofu’s cheek. The pain allowed to mix for a long moment with the thrill before Katsuya pulled it away and admired the haze of need in his captive’s bleary eyes.

Which, was a sickening title to hold, but the hacker could feel the weight of it creep across his skin. Like some arachnid had skittered down his spine, the realization made the man shudder.

He was actually intimidated by Katsuya Suou. Some part of him was scared that the goody-two-shoes, law-abiding detective might actually take the knife to his throat next. All in order to get him to actually cry. And, some part of the hacker was. Very excited about his own helplessness to that threat. Maybe, he was even a bit aroused by the thought of the brunette actually tryingto make him cry. Just a little, maybe. “The hell are you gonna do, then?” He grit out, his irritation still thick in his voice even as it mixed with the more abundant lust, the same way a similar excitement blazed like a wildfire in Katsuya’s own eyes. “What exactly is your plan for this sudden revelation, officer.” Yet, despite the venom in his final word, and the desire Baofu could see in his expression, the persona user’s only reply to the prod was to reach down and loosen one of the belts he’d used to restrain the man. One slap to the face. “Nothing. If I went any further, it would legally be coersion, and I refuse to give you anymore blackmail material on me, Kaoru.” A second, crueler, slap to the face for the ravenette. “How?! Do you really think I’m that malicious? I am basically asking you to fuck me! There’s no coersion here!” He snapped, as the older Suou simply dislodged the blade he’d used to carve into Baofu merely thirty minutes before. “Yes. I do.” Was the simple, but infuriatingly understandable reply as the brunette went to empty the ash tray and put the knife in the sink. The ravenette left in the dim living room to get himself free the rest of the way and glare after the cop, his head swarmed with all of his vengeful plots and urges once more.

Yet, he couldn’t actually fault Katsuya for thinking so lowly of him, or for resisting himself in the situation. The brunette had seen how low Baofu would go to spite someone he was wronged by, and the two were barely cordial. So, it was pretty understandable that the cop wouldn’t want to cross that line. But, that didn’t keep the long-haired man from tossing out another barb, “You do realize that I could still report you for assault with a deadly weapon, right?” “And I could get you arrested for five years on illegal wire tapping. Compared to the six months aggravated assault gets, I have the power here.” Katsuya shot back, which earned a snarl, even before the detective added, “In comparison, sexual assault, especially with a deadly weapon like a knife, is far worse. So, I’ll kindly keep my king and not give you an Ace.” Which only deepened the dark look Baofu wore as he got dressed and stormed off towards his lair.

His frustration high, and his interest piqued, but not a lick of satisfaction to be had.

[badnikbreaker]

okay but re: angst. you're not afraid to get so damn messy and that's so damn dope. i am deeply curious about where your limit for how truly fucked up you'd allow things to get is, but i look at ava and i go. idk i think i'd curl up and die if i witnessed what kinda stuff exalted rain could produce if the situation called for it.

the stuff with tails and ava is probably some of the most messed up stuff i've written! like, that part in my response where i wrote "seething. he had never seethed before, that was new." was basically just me, the writer, going "oh wow i truly just unlocked a new emotion for tails while writing this and that is absolutely bonkers."

it's fucking cool!! you enable the nitty-gritty exploration of characters at their worst, it's such a twisted but delightful thought experiment! your brand is clasping someone's hand and pencil diving straight into the pits of hell with your writing partner. if they're cool enough to hang on for the whole way down.

@skyfcx / what's my trademark?

WEEEHHH AARON THIS IS SO SWEET! i think ava's in an interesting position of, since she's ( functionally ) an oc i have a little more freedom to push on the darkness, but because she's got a lot of built - in bonds in the cast it also enables her to bring out stuff in the canon cast! like, i love love love having ocs that can facilitate shit in the canon characters that they' never get otherwise or wouldn't be able to do in canon. like tails and seething hatred!

as for how far i'll go — i've written some WILD shit for sure, but i also genuinely think about our thread where tails accidentally kills surge and that is...not the MOST body horror i've ever written, but for sure top three. ( and the ava's hands debacle is probably also in there....we have fun here! ) there are definitely topics i'm not gonna touch with the anthros and save for my other blogs but also like. I'M REALLY NOT HOLDIN BACK HERE. i just need lovely folks like you encouraging my angst >:D DLSKGFHDFG BUT GENUINELY LIKE. me enabling the nitty gritty of character examination and really digging in not JUST for the sake of angst ( tho i love angst! ) but because you learn SO much about your muse that way. hearing i've faciliated new stuff from tails for you is SUCH a huge compliment. i'm genuinely so flattered.

i think it's really true that i'm at my best when i have partners who will go to hell with me — but i almost never write anything without a happy ending. there's a lot of hurt for these kids, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel, too! i'm lucky to have so many cool people around who indulge me <3

[dustedmagazine]

King Louie Bankston — Harahan Fats (Goner Records)

King Louie Bankston, who passed away in February 2022 a little shy of his 50th birthday, will one day fit into the hallowed pantheon of New Orleans’s larger-than-life musical eccentrics. These are oddballs and outsiders and obsessives walking their own paths — Ernie K-Doe, Lazy Lester, post-Memphis Alex Chilton, Guitar Lightnin’ Lee, Quintron and Miss Pussycat, to name just a few — who stumble onto momentary household notoriety (to greater and much lesser degrees) through the sheer force of their creative will. Louie walked tall right beside them. 

Louie’s roots are planted firmly in the garage and punk scene of the late-1980s and early-1990s, which he located as one often does via an obsession with skateboarding. While he laid down some quality scorched-earth trash that might not initially be associated with traditional New Orleans music, Louie cast his net wide — from The Royal Pendletons to the Persuaders to his one-band to Loose Diamonds and Missing Monuments — knowing that it was all just music at the end of the day. While he would find perhaps his biggest success as a songwriter and auxiliary member of the Exploding Hearts, whose cult hit “I’m a Pretender” he penned, he was always writing, always recording, and always flipping the script, all the while keeping his creative voice firmly intact.

The posthumous release Harahan Fats (a nod to his hometown of Harahan, Louisiana), recorded over roughly a four-year period concluding in 2021, captures both the musical and personal contradictions of the man. It’s a sad, funny, catchy, messy, genuinely heartful record that works as both a nice introduction to an extensive career and a regrettably consummate postscript. 

Musically, the songs run the line from rickety power-pop janglers to country two-steppers to gospel-tinged, a cappella laments to dark, folk-tinged confessionals. Melodies and riffs and guitar licks feel instantly familiar but hard to pin down, as if they could only come from the scrambled brain of a genuine iconoclast. Louie’s irreverent humor is on full display on songs such as “Drunk at Work” and the bawdy ode to life’s basic necessities “Air Conditioning, Cold Drinks, Pickles & Pussy.” Other songs work as two-minute musical pulp novels, with Louie as the bandit on the run in the gritty world of the underground punk scene; a power-pop songwriter hopping trains, robbing banks, and running from the law. 

But there’s also an unflinchingly dark underbelly here that would be present whether Louie was still around or not. That he’s not, certainly doesn’t make those moments any brighter. It’s a darkness, though, born out of a commendable honesty. His reworking of “Rehab Legend,” an obscure rap song by Cadalack Ron, is searing and heartbreaking. He gives no quarter as he recounts fuck up after fuck up in brutal detail. Other songs aren’t quite as direct, but there are frequent references to addiction, regrets, attempted amends and the acknowledgment that life’s struggles can simply be too much to handle. That Louie passed so young is a sad reminder of the reality of such concerns. 

But this plaintiveness combined with Louie’s preternatural songwriting ability elevate this record to an instant classic. It cannot be overstated how easily these songs flow, and that effortlessness, rather than making the record feel tossed off, creates an intimacy you wouldn’t necessarily expect to find. As if Louie is saying to us, “Well, if country and rap and pop and garage and gospel and punk can go hand in hand then you can bet that laughter and tragedy and sobriety and backsliding and life and death and pickles and pussy do as well.”

Nate Knaebel

[trisockatops]

For me, it's about humanity. It's about figuring out who you are and making community regardless of what you look like. It's about processing trauma and not letting it define you. It's a story about building your own path and embracing the oddities and eccentricities of life.

But, uh, if you want something more solid... It's about the intersection of monsters and humans and how those labels cannot easily be defined by a simple set of physical characteristics. It's a horror that explores themes of abuse, queerphobia, love, and family.

I like that it's unexpected and understated and nothing is what it seems. You're introduced to characters that seem awful at first but that you get to know and realize you see yourself in them and want to root for them. You're introduced to characters that feel like the people who have hurt you and want to live out some cathartic fictional justice against. You're hearing about scenarios which are simultaneously so fucking familiar and yet so fantastical that it's hard not to get drawn up in them. The show is dark and violent but it's not loud. The violence isn't the point: the people are.

I like that the characters are nitty-gritty messy. They're not your typical Heroes or Villains. They're complex. They exist in a lot of shades of gray. It is beyond Flawed Heroes where the flaw obviously just exists to make them more relatable. They are human. They are relatable. They are explained through their pasts and where they came from, and that doesn't define who they are even it colors who they are. And it definitely likes flipping upside the trope that horribly ugly/scared/fucked up looking characters are villains because physical deformity must be bad. Like, no, the hurt characters look fucking hurt because they've been hurt. That doesn't make them bad or evil.

I like that the lore is meandering and unfolding. We're hearing multiple stories that are all coming together to build one greater story, yet each of the more individual components are all respected and treated as their own.

I hope that helps?

Hello! Uh, does anyone know what Hello from the Hallowoods is actually about?

I want to start listening to it, but I'd like to know some information. Like, what do you like about it? What about the characters? The lore?

[fromthegreytavern]

Una Vez en Durango: Cartel Campaign Diary Part 0

CW: references to weaponry, drug trafficking, law enforcement, violence

Background

I have been wanting to run Cartel for ages. I'm not sure that I have ever read, ran, or played a game that so effectively uses its mechanics to not only push the story forward in new and interesting ways but also to give the MC and players all the tools they need to engage with a new setting and perhaps even a new genre.

Speaking of a new genre, Cartel is a narcofiction RPG, plain and simple. The player characters find themselves in the year 2007 in the city of Victoria de Durango, Durango, MX, a vibrant city both filled with and surrounded by interesting locations (54 of which come included in the location deck!). This setting allows for a rich open world with plenty of inspiration to pull from, but also plenty of gaps to fill in during play, and the early 2000's setting means that all of your favorite Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul tropes are on the table -- no flip phone is safe from being angrily snapped in half after being used as a burner phone!

Like any Powered by the Apocalypse game, the game mechanics are meant to be reactive, with rolls being called for as the triggers described in the moves occur in play and this game's set of moves very easily covers many of the actions that unfortunate souls caught in La Guerra Antidrogas would find themselves doing often such as "justifying their behavior", "straining their finances", or, my personal favorite, "getting fucking shot" (I know how that sounds but it's just a really well-written move).

In addition, these mechanics tell you what kind of game this is: a melodrama about the complicated and messy lives of those who are unlucky and/or foolish enough to find themselves caught up in the Drug War. This differs greatly from the procedural, heist-based gameplay of games like Blades in the Dark. This game isn't interested in how El Narco's crew managed to take down a rival gang's warehouse. Cartel is much more interested in how the grizzled Sicario that led the op is going to explain to his Esposa why he came home at 3 AM with clothes covered in blood and a hastily stitched knife wound, or how the Polizeta is going to explain to his partner where the giant bag of cash in the trunk came from.

But enough about the game itself! Let's get to the good stuff!

The Setup

I am running this campaign for two very good friends of mine who are helping me practice running the game. I normally prefer a minimum of 3 players in my games, and honestly, the game is designed for around 4, but these two are great players with a great dynamic and I knew they'd be up to the task!

We began with a brief discussion about what the game is and what it isn't, much like what you see above. We've played games together many times in the past, so instead of a detailed discussion of player safety, we opted for a reminder that safety tools are there to be used and that though this is a game that handles difficult subject matter, our comfort comes first. If you decide to run or play Cartel in the future, I highly recommend a thorough discussion of lines and veils as it is very easy for things to get dark and gritty fast in this game! It works as intended!

The Characters

After a bit of discussion, my players landed on the El Narco and La Sicaria playbooks. A perfect match for a two-person game! One of my favorite storylines in television is the relationship between Mike Ehrmantraut and Gustavo Fring in both Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul so I am more than excited to see how these two characters' relationship evolves.

Our Narco is named Alfonso de la Rosa aka "El Fénix." De la Rosa is a sensible, practical man that puts business before anything else, except perhaps his family and his ambition. He received his plaza from the Sinaloa Cartel after methodically chipping away at the territory of his predecessor who is now enjoying a peaceful convalescence in a local retirement home -- and before you ask, no, he doesn't have a bell and he is in excellent health for his age. Alfonso promised the cartel big things: bigger profits, smaller losses, secure passage for their product across the border, and even more valuable than that, a secure, high-volume facility on the US side of the border. His secret weapon to accomplish these lofty promises? His trucking company: El Presidente Camionaje. His company already sends hundreds of trucks across the border every month, what's a little extra cargo ¿sabes?

In Cartel you primarily gain XP by acting according to tus llaves -- your keys, which are principles that guide your character in moments of uncertainty. Alfonso's keys are Familia and Paranoia which means that he's going to be testing his employees' loyalty and protecting his family by any means necessary; however, should he not follow these principles and let preventable harm come to his family, or should he expose a betrayal, he'll clear these keys, finding new principles to guide him and gaining an advancement a la vez.

El Narco is a special playbook. Unlike the others, he doesn't get many additional moves after character creation, but the ones he does have are powerful and make up core parts of the game.

The first of these is La Plaza, a move that defines what Alfonso's operation looks like and what its problems are. These details help create the starting situation of the campaign and give me as the MC plenty of ammunition to make sure no one gets too comfortable -- it's a war after all.

Alfonso's Plaza is based around his trucking business and reflects his all-business attitude. He has halcones along all of his smuggling routes giving him greater control over his territory and a reputation for brutality meaning that anyone estúpido enough to cross him better have good insurance. Mechanically this lets him use a different stat to pressure someone into following along with his wishes. As a businessman, Alfonso plans for the future, which is why instead of having to deal with untrained pendejos as his enforcers, he has a crew with military training, matones bien cabrones. Because most of his money goes into the business, Alfonso lives a modest but stable lifestyle, with some luxuries, but it's no hacienda. He doesn't mind though, Alfonso enjoys his privacy, which is why he also chose to be anonymous, reducing his heat stat to 0.

Of course, that's not to say he lives la vida perfecta, everyone's got problems, and the more power he gains, the more problems he'll have. Like any criminal enterprise, Alfonso has problems with los federales. Though generally well-behaved (so long as they receive their compensation), los federales can't have narcos conducting business in the open, so he'll have to be careful. To make things worse, there's a mole in the operation (maybe Alfonso's paranoia isn't so loco after all)! This means he's got problems, and he doesn't even know with whom! Could be los federales, but with all his activity near the border he may be dealing with something far worse: los gringos. Lastly, things haven't been running so smoothly lately and word on the street is that there's a new gang in town looking to seize control of the city. Pretty soon it'll be an all-out war, guerra en las calles güey, and that's bad for business.

That brings us to our second player character Tiburón Tejada, El Sicario. La Sicaria is a playbook all about the conflicts that surround the messy business of wetwork. Not only that, the Sicarix that you make left the business once, but now they're back. Must not be muy inteligente ¿no? Tiburón left the business after his former employer got sloppy. He's careful, antisocial, and all business, with a distinct lack of moral fiber to rival Anton Chigurh. Besides, if you don't have friends, no one can stab you in the back ¿sabes? In fact, that's how he's survived this long. His work is his life. No friends, no family, no drama. Only joking there's still plenty of drama, but you'll have to wait til the Session 1 diary for that chisme.

Tiburon's llaves are Indomitable and Duty, meaning that he'll get XP whenever he completes assignments for el jefe or when he proves just how much of a diablo he is by taking on his enemies outmanned and outgunned. He can clear these keys by surrendering to his enemies or by making a move against the goals of his employer, Alfonso. For his moves, Tiburón has been in the game for a long time, he's as savage as they come, knows how to read a tense situation, and despite not getting out much, he's got a bit of a reputation. Everyone knows to keep an eye out for tiburones in the water -- and that they can smell blood a mile away.

Any half-decent Sicario knows that preparation is key and that there's a right tool for every job. He's got tracking devices, a police scanner, and a silencer, as well as body armor, and his signature weapons include a sniper rifle, shotgun, submachine gun, and a fireman's axe. I can't wait to see how he uses that.

The Ties that Bind: Enlaces

Between the two characters' llaves and El Narco's problemas we already have quite the game, but we're not quite done yet. Cartel is a game about messy, complicated relationships that divide the player characters and push them into conflict, so let's talk about our supporting cast.

Z-36: Alfonso's contact with the Sinaloa Cartel. A casual, clean-cut ranchero who always comes to visit with a smile on his face and cigarros y tequila in hand, but this güey is ex-special forces and doesn't tolerate tardiness, so Alfonso better pay his dues -- and live up to his promesas.

Gabriel Santiago de la Rosa Molina: Known colloquially as el Hijo or el Principito, Gabriel is Alfonso's son. He's young and hungry to prove himself, but so far has been stuck driving trucks to the border. Once upon a time, he fucked up, bad, but thankfully Tiburón was there to help him clean up the mess -- and keep it a secret from his papá.

Yenifer Molina Castro: Known as la Reina among the enforcers, she's Alfonso's wife. She also happens to be a veterinarian at la Veterinaria "Fido", who ends up patching up as many wounded narcos as she does family pets. She is extremely put together, never a hair out of place, but with a youthful energy that is one of the few sources of joy in Alfonso's life.

Alberto "Beto" Francisco: He's a lower-level lieutenant that handles Alfonso's local dealers. He's super charming and genuine and lights up a room. Unfortunately for him, his take keeps coming up short and Alfonso is sure he's up to something.

Ramón el Bautista: He used to run things in Durango, but not anymore, not after Alfonso took it from him. But he's reached the point in his life that few narcos ever reach: retirement. He's content to live out the rest of his days in his retirement home, watching his novelas, but that doesn't mean his familia feels the same...

Wrap-up

So that brings us to the end of Session 0! With plenty of pieces on the board and loose threads to pull these characters are under high pressure and things are about to explode! Next time we'll recap the first session and talk some more about this fantastic game.

I hope that you have enjoyed this entry! If you would like to take a look at any of the things mentioned in this blog links are below, and if you have any questions or comments drop them in the ask section! Until next time, I leave you with a song! ¡Cuídense y hasta luego!

Links

Cartel Victoria de Durango, Durango, MX Powered by the Apocalypse Blades in the Dark Anton Chigurh

[ahdriking]

I've been thinking a lot about Porsche post season 1, and it's honestly taken me a really long time to come to terms with what I think the future holds for him (and a potential season 2, my version of it anyway), but I think i've finally figured out that niggling feeling at the back of my mind telling me that this is the calm before the storm.

This isn't Porsche's happy ending. How could it be? The show went to great lengths to demonstrate to us and remind us time and time again that Porsche hates loan sharks and predators, and that's exactly what he's become. And it is what he's become. The show may never give it to us in explicit detail, but we're made aware that the role of the second family is very different to the first family. Their role is the dark, bloody, messy bullshit that the first family can't afford to sully their hands with. It's the racketeering, extortion, drugs, torture, gang wars, murder and violence that is typical of the real mafia world. Porsche, an orphan who spent his entire life under the yoke of loan sharks, is now responsible for operating a bloody and violent criminal empire. And that's supposed to be his happily ever after?

In reality, I don't think Porsche would ever have accepted the role and the ring if Kinn hadn't been the one offering them to him, and even then I don't think Porsche would have accepted the role unless he knew that if he didn't, he would lose Kinn. Because, as much as Kinn loves Porsche, as much as he wants him and would never hurt him willingly again, as much as he would never choose to leave him, Kinn was raised an heir. Kinn was shaped and molded to take up the mantle of his fathers legacy. Kinn bears the full weight of the responsibility for his family on his shoulders, and he has for the majority of his life, a life that has never completely been his own. Kinn cannot walk away from it, he would never be able to live with himself, he wouldn't be himself, and I think Porsche knows that. Kinn may be soft and loving and affectionate in private, but in public, Kinn is cold, calculated and ambitious-- but there can't be one without the other. Both are what makes Kinn who he is.

So Porsche accepts the ring and the role as head of the minor family because he knows that if he doesn't, he's forcing Kinn to choose between his family and Porsche, between his dark side and his lighter side, and I think Porsche, rightfully, is terrified that he doesn't know what Kinn would ultimately choose.

So the choice ends up being Porsche's, and he chooses Kinn. We know this, because he explicitly rejects the idea of belonging to the second family, emphasizing that it's Kinn's side he's on, demonstrating that his position is entirely contingent on Kinn. He makes the sacrifice of becoming everything he once hated, just so Kinn doesn't have to make an impossible choice.

But how long can that last?

How long will Porsche be able to cheat and lie and extort and murder before it starts to really get to him? How long is he going to be able to act like the tough, unaffected mafia boss when he hates everything he now stands for? How long will it be before he starts to resent Kinn for it? How long before he loses himself?

THAT'S what I think would make for a fascinating season 2: Porsche's descent into darkness, his abandoning of himself, for the sake of the man he loves. Porsche trying to reconcile the things he has to do and the man he has to become, all for the sake of Kinn. And Kinn watching Porsche's joy and brightness and goodness slowly flicker, fade and die, knowing that it's for him. Because of him.

I think there's only one way that it all ends: Kinn has to make a choice. Kinn has to choose. Either he becomes the man his father meant for him to be, following in his footsteps and adopting the mantle of ruthless criminal leader, or he rejects his father, and by proxy his family, and chooses Porsche. The longer Kinn waits to make his decision, the more of Porsche he will lose.

[loptrcoptr]

I’m late to this party, but finally reading this in writing today? My god, the catharsis I am feeling right now is overwhelming

play stupid games, win stupid prizes, rob

[entamewitchlulu]

reasons why i think b*ngo stray dogs fucking sucks. again this is my way of coping right now because being mean about a fictional story is better than being mean to other people

there are too many goddamn characters. like truly, an Insane fucking amount of characters, and this is coming from the guy who loves high fantasy.

there is NO space to develop a single one of these characters. they're all flat as a piece of paper. every single one of them is one single character trait and a fancy ability.

atsushi is presumably the main character, but he disappears for chapters at a time and his supposed relationship with mafia guy Does Not Earn Its Development. the pacing is a fucking MESS. every single chapter a New Guy is introduced. and while the concept of them being named after authors was fun at first, it makes it actually more difficult to differentiate them as individuals because all they are is a character design with a random real person's name slapped onto them.

No one is on screen long enough to care about them! there are too many relationships that we're supposed to be interested in, but no one gets more than like three panels to develop a rapport! and then when we do get these character relationship moments, they're almost always instantly undermined by their sudden ability to work together being completely obliterated by their opponent's heretofore unseen special new power that was not once foreshadowed. speaking of which, entire characters would fucking DISAPPEAR with no warning or explanation. where did fucking kyoka go. did the author forget she existed.

the worldbuilding is atrocious. the whole point is that they have superpowers and yet they can't come up with anything more interesting than to call their special powers "Skills" (or Abilities, depending on translation). they're just called SKILL USERS???? at least my hero comes up with the word Quirk.

speaking of skills, there's no rhyme or reason to what a skill can do, which means every chapter there's just another insane escalation of what someone can manage to do out of nowhere. the worldbuilding is a mess so that they can just keep pulling things out of their ass.

And oh my fucking god, don't get me started on the PLOTTING. it's just oneupmanship after oneupmanship. Every single fucking chapter ends with "but actually, *I* was the one who outsmarted *you*!" it quickly stops being a fun game of cat and mouse between geniuses and devolves into a messy pile of two kids pretending to shoot each other and then saying they have an invincible shield, but then oooh i have an all powerful SWORD. every time d/azai and d/ostoyevsky were on the screen i wanted to smash my head through a window because they were the fucking WORST. everyone would deduce some perfect plan, but then that plan was upended by ANOTHER perfect plan, but then actually the first plan had accounted for that plan, but then actually actually the other plan was ready for THAT plan -

it gets exhausting!! in an attempt to upend the status quo every single chapter, it just becomes a mess of not being able to, for one second, rely on any sense of stability in characters or narrative. there was never any point in feeling excited about the good guys' plans working, because you knew in two panels the bad guys were going to have anticipated it and done some other stupid thing, and then you couldn't feel any tension from the bad guys' plans overwhelming the heroes because you know in two seconds d/azai was going to have some extra special galaxy brain moment where the had KNOWN EVERYTHING THE WHOLE TIME ACTUALLY UWU

and the fact that it wanted so bad to be gritty and dark and intense, but it could never, even once, commit to letting EVEN ONE of its characters die, was so frustrating. i hate when characters die! I don't like it! but even i was tired after the 100th fake out where you think a character was assassinated and it turns out no they were actually just spirited away to a magic book world uwu

and the thing that pisses me off the most is that i keep seeing this fucking major ship show up in the sher/liam tag and someone called d/azai and ch/uya "sher/liam in a different font" and i have NEVER been so fucking OFFENDED in my life, there is barely even the slightest, most tenuous actual relationship between those two because despite being told of their extensive history we only ever see them together on page like, maybe 4 times, and also, the appeal of sher/liam is that they have an actual, deep respect for each other and are both geniuses who have been on to each other for ages but like to smile politely and pretend they don't know anything as they dance around each other. d/azai and ch/uya are an insufferable, implausible genius x a loud, destructive idiot. THEY ARE NOT THE SAMEEEEEEEEEE

sorry to be a hater but i'm having a horrendous time in my life right now so i picked up the next manga on my list to read and read the whole thing up to where it's currently left off so i could just have some neutral thing to read to not associate with my current sadness and it turns out that b*ngo stray dogs fucking sucks

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

Mended. J.M.K

Author’s Note: This story holds alot of my own bullshit from my past and kind of my journey back to self acceptance and letting go of what had been done to me. I'm hoping you guys enjoy my story, I've been wanting to move this pain into art and something that doesn't just belong to me anymore.

Requests:

Anon:

From the prompts, can u do something with Josh using: “ when i am near you, i finally know how it feels to breathe without worry, without caution. i just feel safe with you… “Like the reader had been in a toxic relationship prior to meeting Josh and when she feels how comfortable he makes her feel she confesses this quote to him??? And the whole thing is all fluffy and heartfelt🥺🥰😍😭 thank u sis for feeding us so well😩😩😩

And this Anon as well, I sort of added them to the pot!

Anon:Ok I’m shy but here I go😭🙈

Can you do something with the prompt:

“Just do what feels good baby, there’s no rush…”

Like maybe it’s her first time ✨riding✨ him and he’s kinda helping her and encouraging her? Something along those lines🥰

I kind of combined both of these requests for this fic!

Synopsis: After being with your boyfriend for so long, the two of you find yourselves sharing a long awaited first time.

Word Count: 6.2k (bit of a breeze eh?)

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Very very fluffy, very sweet, very smutty. Foul language, oral, mentions of past sexual absuse and sexual trauma. (Wrap it before you tap your beautiful boyfriend)

Mended. J.M.K

Guilt is the only word you can use to explain the feeling you're experiencing. Laying here in the dark of the shared bed of your apartment. The curly hair of your boyfriend between your fingers as you mindlessly run your hand over his head as he sleeps beside you, he is peacefully asleep as he faces you, he'd fallen asleep mid conversation, something about a camping trip he took in Tennessee.

You've been tightly wound, that much is for certain. The feeling of having a weight on your chest, unable to breathe freely without the tension in your lungs was no way to live. There was a time before Josh, but those times were not kind ones. You thank God for getting you out of the place you were in and finally into the solace of the warm and awaiting arms of a man who truly cares for you. Your ex had fucked you up in more ways than one, screwing with your perception of reality, love and your own self worth. He was also your first real boyfriend you'd ever had, how were you supposed to know that wasn't how relationships were supposed to be?

That was years ago, but now, even with Josh, you find yourself lost in your own mind. Worried about his words having double meaning, about texting him back promptly and accurately, not letting your guard down completely even though he has never given you any indication to be anything like your ex. What is wrong with me? You'd curse yourself, laying next to the man next to you, asleep and softly snoring beside you. You gaze at his sleeping form, chest rising and falling perfectly, his lips parted gently, eyes closed, lulled away in a dream. You've told Josh tidbits of your ex before, but never any of the real gritty stuff. He knows your intimate life prior was a bit messy, but he doesn't know the full scope. He's such a ray of pure starlight and the idea of even bringing in that rain cloud you’ve tried so hard to get rid of into this new relationship sounds like an actual nightmare.

He would never judge you, you know that, but would he see you differently? Like the broken doll you feel like? You've been dating Josh for almost a year now and you've hardly been intimate. You two just call it, "taking it slow,” doing everything but full on intercourse. He's incredibly patient and kind about it all, when he asks you if you want to keep going in the midst of passionate kisses and heavy petting, when you ultimately say "no," when you think you're ready but one slight pain or awkward angle that hurts, you break into tears, falling into a near panic attack, even through all of your obvious signs of sexual trauma, his expression never falters. He never sighs. Never complains. Never calls you a "tease" or tries to push you to "just do something for me." Instead he simply says, "Okay baby. You want to cuddle? We could watch a movie or something?" Or something along those lines. At first it shocked you, didn't all men get annoyed when you didn't want to fuck? Your heart would swell with love, like the idea of just understanding your withdrawl from sex without making you feel like shit was somehow so foreign to you, it felt like a rose in his hand rather than the dagger of what you've come to understand as basic human decency.

The thought of Josh leaving you for someone who would actually sleep with him broke your heart. He'd never do it, but could you blame him? Your eyes well up with tears. He chose a broken girl, unable of knowing how to love him because she's never known anything else. The past months feel like a lifetime of learning everything. He loves you with all he knows how but yet you cannot help yourself from keeping him at arms length, unable to give yourself over fully with your past holding you back. You sniffle a cry, staring up at the ceiling, heart racing as you can feel your face heat up with frustration and pain. Josh deserves better.

You choke on a sob too loudly, you can feel Josh stir next to you and you immediately wipe your tears away, hoping he falls back asleep, that you could disappear into the darkness of your bedroom. "Hey, hey what's wrong?" Josh's voice is like an arrow to your heart, he always brings you so much comfort but with your racing thoughts you can't help but feel the gut wrenching pain at the thought of him seeing you like this, weak and undeserving. All you can simply do is shake your head, wishing this whole scenario away, not wanting to fall into this deep pit tonight like this. "Baby, it's okay." His voice still deep and raspy from sleep, he caresses your cheek, swiping your tears away with the soft pad of his thumb. Your mouth waters from your state of anguish, searching for the words to say but you can't even look at him. "I don't deserve you." You choke out, staring at the ceiling hoping that avoiding his stare won't make you crack in half.

Josh sits up at your statement, you look at him fearfully, tears streaming from your face as you look at his beauty under the dark of your bedroom, the moonlight that peers inside coasting down his body, illuminating his face, he looks confused, hurt almost. "Why would you think that?" He says with almost a hint of amusement at how ridiculous the whole thing sounds. "I just don't think I'm worth your love. Like, I'm so far gone, everything I've been through has been too much-" "Stop, what are you talking about?" He cuts you off, his face scanning yours, looking for an answer. You sit up and just look at him with tears in your eyes. "You deserve someone who isn't broken." You whisper, your bottom lip twitching as more tears stream down your face. He only reaches his hands out and holds your face in his hands, "You are my everything. I don't want anyone else, baby. I only want you." He speaks so sweetly, almost as though he too is on the verge of tears, he's cradling you in his hands, his eyes big and brown, looking at you like he's holding the galaxy in his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath, sniffling and bringing your hands up to hold his hands on your hands, holding them against your face. "Why would you think you're broken?" His voice just above a whisper as he runs his thumb against your skin, catching a teardrop and running it across your cheek. You take in a breath, searching for the strength to speak, to say the ugliest parts of your history, of you. "You know that my ex put me through a lot." You start, looking to see if he understands, he simply nods, his brows knit, ready to solve whatever quandary you present. "You just show me so much love and kindness I've never felt before. When I am near you, I finally know how it feels to breathe without worry, without caution. I just feel safe with you. You are just too good for me, I feel like I'm holding you back, like you have to hold my hand through basic shit." You're voice catches and you're on the edge of crying again, "I just feel stupid, like I can't even have sex without crying or freaking out, like what the fuck is wrong with me?!" Josh's hands fall to your shoulders, holding you tightly, "Nothing is wrong with you baby-" "Yes, there is!" Your voice rings out, bouncing off the walls until the silence is too much to bear. Josh looks at you with a face of subtle shock, lips parted, brow knit, fearful of what comes next in your story.

"My ex, he, um… he just, he pressured me to do things I didn't want to. I thought I was ready but I wasn't, and he would just make me feel awful about it. Pushing through the pain even when I said-" your voice fails, you can't even say the words, and Josh's hands only run up your arms, patient as always, waiting for you to say only what you want to. "Like I should want to do these things, because if not then, I didn't really love him-" "I will always love you. You know I would never-" "I know you wouldn't. I know you would never treat me like he did. I just… I'm sorry I can't just be normal, I…" You can't find the words, you scan over his beautiful face, full of concern and worry over you. "I will wait until the end of time for you, to wait until you're ready. I will never grow tired of you, you mean so much more than just sex to me, and I'm so sorry you’ve ever felt that way. You never have to apologize for that." His eyes search yours, your tears dried by his hands, his voice genuine and kind as he speaks only makes your heart swirl with so much love, it's practically dizzying. "You are worth the wait. You are worth all of it."

You smile at him with tears in your eyes, all you can do is smile and look at him, he smiles back at you. His hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear has you grinning like an idiot. He really is everything to you, not that you ever doubted it, he is just so full of love, you only want to show him as much love as he shows to you. He leans in and kisses your cheek, "I love you so much." He whispers against your cheek, you smile wide and hold him in your hand, he leans into your touch as you speak, "I love you so much, Josh." You whisper back, your hands bring him to you, kissing him sweetly.

His lips feel like they can erase all your pain by their plushness alone, his hands on you feel like they can set every broken bone with just his touch, his words waving away every insecurity with just a well thought out phrase. He is everything. The sun and the stars, the way you gravitate towards him like a celestial body, and celestial he is. Angelic in every way, the face of a cherub, body of a God, voice of a poet and hands of a sculptor, and in this moment, all you want is to be his clay.

He kisses you once more on your lips, a smacking smooch like a cartoon character, Popeye kissing Olive Oyl. His hands holding your face still as he places kisses all over your face, you grin at his kindness, his overenthusiastic pecks placed all over your cheeks, your forehead, your nose and the crown of your head, and all the while you can't stop the bubbling laughter in your chest that only Josh can bring out in you. He watches you with a softened expression and a smile that could melt any icy cold heart. "I love your laugh, I never want to be without your smile." He whispers, his thumb running over the apple of your cheek. "I love you." You simply reply, he beams at you, "I love you." He says just above a whisper, his eyes searching yours and just like that, the feeling in the air turns.

The mood shifts and it's like it's only you two together. Alone in the universe together while the rest of the world outside sleeps soundly. Nothing to do, nowhere to go and more importantly, nowhere else to be besides right here, sat crisscrossed on your bed with the love of your life. You let your hands travel to his face, mimicking the movement he made on your own skin, letting your thumb trace over his cheekbone. The air is tight with tension, threatening to crush you both. You watch as his own eyes watch you, taking in every crease, freckle, and scar, memorizing your face as though he were to turn around and paint it by memory. Your heart yearns for him, even with him this close to you, you want all of him, encapsulating your senses, overwhelming your mind and occupying every space you can offer for him, and him alone. The pull of your lips gravity has the two of you slowly leaning forward, achingly slow, moving into a kiss and even as your lips meet, it takes you by surprise. You could never forget what Josh’s lips feel like even in a million years, and yet, this kiss feels different.

It’s like moving in slow motion but in the best way, taking the time to feel him against your own lips, to breathe him in, to feel his curls in between your fingers, to feel the warmth of his body radiate into yours, the whole scene is unlike anything you two had ever shared before. You crave him, you want him like the earth needs the sun. Josh’s hands move to cradle the back of your head while his other hand maintains its hold against your jaw. Your hand in his curls grasp at his tresses, earning a low and unwithheld groan from Josh. Your hold on him leads him to lay back down to the sheets of your bed, he rests his body just over yours, lost in your kiss you begin to realize that the unwelcome anxiety you feel whenever you and Josh are intimate, has yet to show up. Instead, a sort of forward boldness takes over you, you bring up your bare leg over Josh’s hip, feeling already how hard he’s growing against you.

Your nails run over his back as you lay a hand on his shoulder, bringing him to lay more of himself on you. Josh pulls gently away from the kiss, “What do you want, sweet girl?” He asks in a husky tone, an iteration of the question he almost always starts with when things start getting sensual, always wanting you to know that nothing happens unless you ask for it, never wanting to push you. The question makes your heart flutter as you feel not even an ounce of worry, fear of embarrassment or nervous energy that usually clouds your mind. Usually your answer is very specific, never wanting to go too far as to save yourself from a panic attack or fit of tears. You smile against his lips, “I want you.” You say with a raspy tone of confidence, Josh smiles back at you, never having seen you this way, but he still knows to tread lightly. “You have me.” His voice rolls deeply and sweetly into the darkness of your bedroom.

He embraces you in a passionate kiss, his hand traveling up your sleepshirt, resting on your waist, his heat radiating into your body. You roll your hips against him, looking for some sort of friction for your already wet heat between your legs. He brings his hips down to meet yours, the thin material of his boxers and your panties leaving little for the both of you to imagine. His hand travels down your side and rests above the waistband of your panties. You moan breathlessly at just the feeling of his hand so close to you, his eyes look to you, searching for a sign to stop, but he finds only a simple nod from you, urging him to carry on. He kisses you on the cheek, his lips lingering on your blushing skin as his hand goes past the fabric and to your aching pussy.

His fingers run up your folds, accumulating your arousal on his digits, before coming to your clit, his middle and ring fingers slowly and gently swirl against the bud. You sigh at the sensation, "You like that baby?" Josh teases, gauging your reaction, still going easy on you. You smile drunkenly at the feeling, "Yes," your reply sounding more like a breath of air than your own voice. He smirks that ever stunning smirk, only making you wetter. He kisses your cheek, down your jaw and finally burying his face into your neck, placing wet and open mouthed kisses against your skin, hot against his lips. "You deserve it baby, to feel this good." He articulates between kisses, his voice and hand alone could throw you over the edge if he kept this up. You whine under him, so gentle and loving, thinking only of you. Your hand comes to the back of his head, holding him to you, almost praying he doesn’t move from his place, cradled in the crook of your neck beside you, his tongue teases at the muscle between your neck and shoulder

“I want your mouth, baby.” You whine into his ear, he perks up and looks at you, drinking in the look of bliss on your face. He hums out an answer against your lips, raspy and low as he kisses you, his fingers cease their movements as he begins kissing down your neck. He sits up a moment and pulls your shirt over your body, taking it off and exposing you to the warm air around you. He resumes his trek down your neck, your collar bone, down your chest, between the valley of your breasts, his hands lingering to grasp at them as he kisses over the expanse of your stomach, his lips kissing and licking just over the waistband of your panties. “Josh, please.” You breathe, your hand finding purchase in his hair. He grins up at you, looking as though he is savoring every single second of this moment with you. He pulls down your panties, tossing them aside, still taking time to kiss up and down the inside of your thighs. Your legs are covered in goosebumps from his tender touches and soft warmth of his lips, “So wet for me.” He says quietly, his observation sounded like it was almost just for himself, he meets your eyes, never turning away as he leans into your heat, his tongue slowly licking a bold stripe up your folds and landing on your clit. You moan, your eyes never leaving his as he begins a deliciously slow pace against your clit.

Your back arches as you melt into the pleasure, your hands balling up the sheets beside you to help you funnel the incredible sensation coursing through your veins. You can’t help the bucking of your hips up into Josh’s mouth, but he certainly doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You look back down to the beautiful dream of a man between your legs, his eyes closed in concentration and in sweet bliss, his lips and tongue lapping up your pussy with such passion and focus as though he were pouring his heart out to you, unable to speak with words, only his actions. He groans against you, his hips pressing into the mattress beneath him, his body begging for any stimulation makes you impossibly more turned on, the vibrations of his voice making you moan, “You taste so sweet.” He simply says between licks, he latches his lips to your clit, making you cry out in ecstasy, you bring a hand to his curls, pulling at them, earning a grunt from Josh. The look of him alone like this is bringing you closer to the edge, the blue light from the moonlight peaking through the curtains and illuminating his back muscles, rippling shoulders and elegant face as he kisses away your pain.

He begins to kitten lick at your bundle of nerves and the preassue in your lower stomach grows, “Oh Josh, oh fuck baby.” You cry out, your legs are shaking and you can’t hold back the way your thighs are tightening around Josh’s head, trembling at the way his tongue grazes against you in the best way. “Please baby, d-don’t stop, don’t stop.” You stutter out, both of your hands in Josh’s curls now as you thrust against his mouth. In a final brush of his tongue, your muscles seize up and your voice fails as your orgasm slams full force into you. You begin to quake and shudder at the feeling of his tongue, letting you ride out your orgasm. “F-uck.” You choke out before your whole body snaps, you exhale a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding until you start panting and writhing beneath Josh’s mouth and his grip on your thighs. He slows his pace down to keep you from getting overstimulated and pulling you from the beauty of your climax, your body stills as you start to float back down to earth. Josh looks up at you, lips and chin covered in your arousal, wiping it off with the back of his hand, “You feel good sweet girl?” You grin at him with a lazy smile, eyes hooded with lust as you look at him, flooded with an insatiable need for him. “Come here.” You rasp, just barely audible, he crawls up your body, the outline of his hardened shaft evident from his desire for you.

He looks at you like he’s looking at a marble statue, completely in awe of you. You are his true muse. The object of all of his affection. “I need you.” You whisper as he looks you over, his face is flushed, his heart full and threatening to break free from his chest, allowing him to present it to you on a silver platter, yours completely and utterly for the taking as you speak in earnest, “Take me, baby.” You say, your hands framing his face like he were merely a spirit, a flicker of flame, as though he’d disappear into the night if he were to slip from your grasp. He comes down to kiss you, kissing you as though you had been away for thousands of years, like this was the first kiss you had ever shared, and in a way that’s true. Now that the two of you are completely exposed and vulnerable to each other, no more secrets, no more fear, he can see you for who you truly are.

Pulling away from your kiss, Josh looks you over. “Just tell me if you want me to stop-” “I know baby.” You remind him kindly, knowing all too well how many times you’ve retreated in moments like this, but something just feels different. Better. Right. Josh removes his boxers, his fully naked body bathed in the blue light of the moon peaking in, he looks unlike you’ve ever seen him before. Josh has always been beautiful to you, but you see him with a new sort of lens, he feels like your own personal savior. This man who is so patient and caring and kind, with eyes that look at you the way no one else ever has, never had he ever seen you as anything other than the perfect creature you are, despite all of your faults. The way his toned form is bathed in the light of the stars takes your breath away, a look of adoration in his own eyes mirrors yours, you can hardly stop the words that tumble from your own lips, “I love you.” You breathe, he stares back at you, sitting back on his knees looking at you, “I love you.” His voice as soft as his expression, he makes his way up your body, holding himself above you, “Let me make you feel good.” He says sweetly, you widen your legs more for him, letting him rest on you, his hardened cock laying against your core. Just the feeling of him like this makes your breathing hitch with excitement.

You move your legs to press him closer to you, silently signaling him to move. He takes himself in his hand, running up against your arousal. You moan at just the feeling of him, the look on his face asks you silently for your permission and you answer with a quick nod, lost for words as you take in this moment. The moment before is always one of pure exhilaration and quiet excitement, relishing in the feeling of each other as he first enters you, the both of you watching with bated breath as he pushes his cock deep inside of you until he’s buried to the hilt in you. Your lips part as you and Josh exchange a sigh, releasing a collective breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

"Oh fuuuck." You moan lowly, your eyes closing softly at the beautiful feeling. "You like that?" Josh asks, his voice trying to push past his own desire but it still shakes with pleasure, "Yes, please baby, give it to me." You say, you sound so sure, unlike anything had ever kept you from this moment, and you were damn sure nothing was going to keep you back now.

You'd been living with this pain for so long, a hold put over your own mind from a fear that had taken root long ago, and now it was no longer a part of you. You would never give up your own power or peace of mind ever again, that piece of shit couldn't control you anymore. You are free. Free to love and to live and to show Josh just how much love you have for him.

You pull him closer to you, his pace starting to increase, giving into the feeling of pure ecstasy the two of you had built in each other's bodies. You watch as his curls bounce, so perfectly in time with every stroke of his hips, the way he feels inside you, filling up your senses in the most perfect way. Your hands make their way to his hair, tugging to pull him by the back of his head, a moan rolling from Josh's lips like the voice of an angel. "Fuck baby, you feel so good." He groans, his eyes rolling into his head as he closes his eyes, falling into the beautiful rhythm.

"I wanna ride you." You whisper, his eyes open, looking at you with a mix of excitement and concern. "Are you sure?" He asks, still keeping his pace, voice faltering at the promise of seeing you bounce on his cock makes his brain dizzy, knowing you'd never done it before with him. You feel a nervous tinge blush your cheeks but push past it, wanting so badly to see him at your mercy beneath you. "Please baby, I wanna make you feel good." You whine, giving him your biggest doe eyes as you bring a hand to his cheek.

Josh slows his pace and comes to a stop, he gives you a quick kiss, "You always make me feel good baby." He smiles, assuring you that you don't have to prove anything to him. "I want to." You speak in confidence as you sit up, cueing him to lay down. He rolls onto his back, giving you a look that you wish you could bottle up and hold onto forever, a look that sees through you to your very core. You straddle him, your body shaking slightly from your previous orgasm and just a hint of nervousness.

You sit down on his hardened shaft, laying against his stomach, rolling your hips against the underside of him, just getting used to your position up here. The two of you sigh from the new sensation, the feeling of him against your warm wetness only makes your heartbeat faster. You lift yourself up from him, taking him in your hand and lining him up to your awaiting entrance. "Take it slow, it's alright." Josh chimes in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs, his voice and touch interrupting the anxious thoughts rambling in your head. You take in a deep breath, repeating his words in your mind as you lower yourself down onto him.

Inch by oh so sweet inch he fills you up, your legs slowly spreading to bring yourself down onto him. Josh moans out at the feeling, stretching you out in a way you've both never felt in each other before. You take a moment before sitting completely on him, his dick buried inside you so deeply you can feel him against your cervix. The feeling is as incredible as it is daunting and just a tad uncomfortable.

You let your mind wander to every porn you've ever seen, where the woman is bouncing tirelessly and effortlessly on the actor's lap, how the fuck are you supposed to do that?! "Hey," Josh's voice brings you back to him, his eyes housing a look of worry, "Just do what feels good baby, there's no rush." His voice reminds you, soft and sweet, your perfect Joshy. Never wanting to push you to do something you didn't want to do, always looking out for you. You give him a nod and try to center yourself, you start experimentally rocking your hips back and forth over him. The feeling makes you feel more full than ever before, so complete like this.

You bring your hands to lay flat on Josh's stomach, anchoring you to him, allowing you to move against him with ease. You lose yourself in the feeling, rolling your hips, his cock deep inside of you, up against your g-spot in such a beautiful way. Your eyes fall shut, your clit catching on the base of him in such a way that only makes you need more.

Josh's eyes are trained on you, staring up at you like he's holding an angel just beneath his touch. The way the light hugs your skin, the contour of your breasts, the smoothness of your skin, your throat exposed as you let your head fall back, watching the way your hair sways with you, falling in love with the way you feel and the way that you look all over again. His hands move to your hips, the feeling of his movement makes you open your eyes and look down at the beauty of the man below you, watching you like you just hung the moon. "Feels so good." Your voice falls like silk so easily that you hardly recognize you'd uttered those words at all. You shift up your motions, opting to bounce up and down slowly on his dick.

"Oh baby. Just like that, oh you're so good." Josh cries out, his voice so soothing it only makes you move more confidently, egging you on to move faster. His large hands rest on your ass, helping you bounce against him, his dull nails digging into your ass cheeks making you only need more of him. The up and down routine has the head of his cock running perfectly over your g-spot over and over, your moans falling from you before you can even process them. "Josh, oh Josh, oh fuck you feel so good baby." You whimper, he sighs, his perfect pink lips parted with sounds of euphoria flowing from him.

His hands on you start to feel more desperate, you lean into him, the feeling of your thighs burning from exhaustion doubling you over. You continue your motions this way, face buried into the crook of his neck, the change in angle making both of you cry out in pleasure. His arms hold you tightly around your waist, almost as though he were shielding you and not the other way around. He moves his legs up and begins to thrust into you, his pace unrelenting as he slams into you hard and deep, in a way he's never done before.

You swoon at the thought of it all, finally surrendering to him, letting him take you however he needs you without feeling on the edge of breaking in half from fear or pain, just living in this moment of the pure bliss and love he gives you, the love you are finally able to accept. He grips you tighter as he rolls the two of you over, skillfully bringing you to lay beneath him as he thrusts into you. You look up at him in surprise, never having moved you around like that before takes your breath away. He's chasing his high, his hand coming down to your clit, rolling it in quick tight circles in attempt to bring you with him. You cry out in delight at the attention to your bundle of nerves, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten.

You catch his eyes and something in the room just shifts. The fast and passionate fucking turns into something more, something slower, more deliberate. Not any less intense, but somehow, more meaningful. He brings himself closer to you, lips just inches apart but you can't look away from the stunning amber of his brown eyes in the dark light of your bedroom. It feels as though you're pulled together like magnets, unable to be torn apart. Watching as the other is slowly coming more and more undone with every thrust.

You feel his breath fanning over your lips, as though the two of you are sharing a breath makes its all the more spiritual than just simply fucking. This is what sex is about, what love is about, what being human is. You can feel a connection within you two so strong and powerful it cannot be broken. Your hands come to his face, holding him to you as though your lives depended on it. He sets his forehead to yours, his hips and hand never ceasing their perfect routine that feels like a song playing through you.

His face says so much without saying a word, eyes bore into yours with such desperation and gentleness that you can feel tears pricking at your own eyes, threatening to spill over. Not out of pain, but from an overwhelming need to feel him all around you, to hold him fully in your heart, to want to be a part of the very core of his universe. "I love you." He pants, his voice faltering from need and desperation but also true honesty. "I love you." You choke out, a hot tear cascades down your cheek as you can feel the knot inside of you on the verge of breaking. He continues his thrusts, he bites down on his lip as a moan threatens to tear him apart.

You tighten your grip on him, pulling at his hair as the feeling of your orgasm creeps in. Your shared breaths increase until the two of you are shattering completely, cumming together, hard. His voice is fried as he calls out your name, his hands grip you tightly to him, as though you were the only lifeboat in the middle of the Pacific. You cry out his name and a string of curses are pulled from you as though you weren't even in control as your body quivers from your climax that slams through the both of you. Josh cums deep inside you, your pussy fluttering around him as your thighs press tightly to him, legs wrapped around his hips to have him as close to you as possible. The room falls still as the two of you hold each other in such perfect content.

You smile up at the ceiling as you pet his curls, running your hand over his head and bringing him back to you. Your smile is wide and your tears fall from your eyes as a light laugh bubbles from your chest. Josh brings his head up to look at you. You laugh again a little louder than before, half of pure anguish and the other in pure joy. "What's wrong, baby? Are you hurt?" "No, no," Your laugh interrupts your own statement. "I-I fucking did it… I did it and I feel… free. He doesn't own me anymore. I feel like I beat him. Like I won." You smile up to the ceiling, fearing how much you might feel if you look over at Josh.

He brings you to look at him, his hand holding your chin oh so lovingly. "I love you so much." "I love you so much, baby." You smile as the tears fall from your face, "You're my everything." He whispers with a smile as he brushes your tears away, giving you a kiss to your flushed cheeks.

It's a feeling you probably can't even explain. To feel so loved that you can't even begin to understand how you can contain it all. To know love in a way you've never understood before. To see that love laying beside you and holding you so close it makes your heart sore. To be loved in a way that you can close your eyes and sleep beside the person who is all you can think of. To feel finally whole again. "My sweet girl." Josh whispers in your ear, holding you tight against him in his arms that will only ever love and protect you. Your eyes flutter closed, feeling more free and more loved than you could have ever known.

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