#long rant but pls read

[ingydar-phan]

I think people are misinterpreting my stance on dangender. So let me say more, I guess.

- I am not indirecting anybody. This is a wide topic with varying ideas in it. My stances aren’t about the participants, they’re about the topic itself.

- I do not think having this stance is inherently harmful, transphobic, or unethical. I think some aspects can be rooted in harmful things but believing in dangender doesn’t make someone a bad person.

- My issue isn’t about boundaries themselves or crossing lines DNP have set. I know some people agreeing with me are making it about that, but that’s not what it’s about for me. I am super icked out by people who think they’re doing some sort of holy work by “protecting” their “innocent blorbos” or whatever from other peoples opinions/speculation. I’m not trying to be like “how dare you! If he saw this his feelings would be hurt!”. In fact, I think if Dan were to see dangender posts, he’d probably giggle, tilt his head, and be like “hmm yea ok I see what you’re saying!”. Im not trying to decipher what lines DNP have laid out themselves about what’s ok and what’s too much. Nobody can do that accurately besides DNP themselves, and this is a fandom space, so that’s not what I’m worried about, even though people seem to think it is.

I think it is absolutely true that having queer people in the phandom pre-BIG discussing DNPs relationship and queerness was a huge part of empowering Dan to come out. He’s said it in BIG, he said it in TIT, he’s said it a lot. Their community being nosy gays is how he found the space to come out. I know this. I affirm and agree with this.

My issue is there’s a difference between laying ground for mind-opening, and acting like there’s a confirmed secret being hidden from us when it comes to Dans gender. So, the difference between thinking “maybe if Dan really dug into what his gender could be, knowing it’s a safe space, he may come out with an idea of something more complex than cis” and thinking “he is for a fact trans/enby and already knows this, he’s just hiding it, and trying to hint it at everyone through these secret codes.”

All the jokes about phyuri and DNP looking like lesbians, the calling Dan “she” or “wife”, wanting DNP to watch I Saw The TV Glow, transmascs seeing themselves in Dan, that IS the community opening our arms and saying to be free to feel however you want to feel and express yourself however you desire. That’s so beautiful.

Collecting evidence that you surely know better than Dan himself that he’s actually secretly trans and hiding it is just, different, and is what makes me uncomfortable.

Lest we not forget that gender and sexuality, that queerness as a whole, are intertwined. A young confused traumatized Dan feeling urges to express femininity is just queerness itself, not specifically transness. Queer men are often inherently viewed as feminine, and going outside of strict gender expectations is a part of gayness for many gay men. Feeling like you’re different from your peers, like you want to express yourself outside of the norm, is tied into all forms of queerness. Dan is gay: he knows he’s gay, he’s worked hard to call himself gay. Gayness is queerness, and queerness is unique expression. His complex feelings about non-masculine expression tie into his gayness because he is a queer man. Him having those complex feeling about expression and self image do not mean he’s trans. They mean he’s queer period. What type of queer is up to him; and clearly the expression and label of queerness that he finds most accurate to himself is gay man. You can be a cis gay person and still have your queerness attach to your gender without it making you trans.

May he one day in the future find that that complex expression of queerness goes into his gender to the extent of transness? Maybe! I don’t know! Would I support him? Of course! Would I look back regretfully? No! I’m not attempting to prevent anyone from building a welcoming space. I just don’t like this assertion of specific labels and the idea that you know better than him. That is it.

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

what do you think sirius’s relationship with his father was like

(i wrote a whole fucking biography, but there's a tldr at the bottom w some notes! also. i am so sorry. this ended up being orion's relationship with his eldest son instead. its pov orion forgive me please.)

sirius and orion ..... there's not much in canon about them, i think, right? he mentions him a whopping one time, when he said his father was the one who made Number Twelve unplottable and that's it, so i think orion was just. so very absent. and neglectful. especially considering how much walburga is mentioned and how big of a part she played in sirius' life.

that's all for canon, i think. now for the fun hc time !!

i imagine orion to be fairly quiet, more like regulus. i imagine he dealt with walburga's anger and mood swings (i hc her (and sirius) with bipolar ii disorder which was obv untreated her whole life bc a) fifties b) ew muggles im perfectly fine) ever since they met (with orion being younger and more complacent, too) so it wasn't a marriage where they were both equals, and orion resented walburga for it.

enter sirius black.

when sirius was born, walburga was completely focused on him. she had her son, her everything, her precious little child and orion was free. i think he loved sirius for it - for how walburga didn't notice when orion left the room or entered it, for how much walburga loved her son.

the first few years was good, sirius was charming, regulus was obedient, walburga was happy and orion was distant from the woman who'd ruined his life. plus, he liked his kids!

sure, sirius was too headstrong and aggressive and had mood swings and sure that reminded him a little bit of walburga and so he usually treasured his precious regulus, and yeah, sirius had cried more than once that dad doesnt love me! but it was all just fine, because he loved his son! he did, really! at least one of them, anyway.

by the time sirius was ten, orion was hoping his hogwarts letter would come early.

it was sirius' first big rebellion, and walburga had (after punishing sirius as she saw fit - orion didn't bother asking, the boy was more comfortable with his mother anyway) locked herself in her room for more than a week, but that was fine, he was used to it. no, the problem was that sirius also stayed in his room for a week, and orion was connecting dots.

from then to dropping sirius off at the train, orion withdrew himself. he noticed. he observed. he busied himself. sirius talked to him, and he didn't ignore him completely, he was still a good father (right?) so he played chess and taught potions and told him who to and not to talk to like he was supposed to.

(he hated the noise the mother and son caused. he hated them, too.)

he pretended to sympathize when walburga said she missed him already when they saw the bus go off.

when sirius came back for christmas, he steered clear for the first two days. walburga handled the punishments: sorting, his friendships, his misdemeanors. orion nodded along.

i am a good father. it's his fault for not being a good son.

regulus was so good, and for all the time the boys spent together, regulus never rubbed off on him.

oh god. what if sirius infects him, too? the only normal one there - what if sirius takes regulus in his madness?

so he separates regulus, too.

by then, he doesn't know what's going on with sirius. regulus told him, time to time, but orion's dislike of his son was becoming clear, so regulus steered clear of the sirius' name. sirius learnt to be away from his father's study. walburga yelled at him more for his negligence but he took it and continued his one sided resentment to his son. (was it one sided anymore? orion didn't know.)

summer vacation is spent in his study and in his bedroom. the two places sirius never was. he didn't know where sirius was, but he heard the occasional screaming and then he had the pleasure of not seeing sirius for a few days.

when, the next year, regulus has to go with sirius, he resents walburga for not saying she missed him already. but she had missed sirius. cursed mother, cursed child.

in third year, walburga signs sirius' hogsmeade permission slip. whatever. he didn't even know it had been signed till the following year, when regulus came to him and they had a few moments of small talk.

regulus mentioned sirius idolized andromeda. he couldn't imagine why, and he couldn't imagine why regulus told him.

by the summer before fourth year, sirius and orion didn't talk. orion scolded him for one thing or another ('posture!' , 'you're late' , 'you're friends with a pettrigrew?' , 'your hair is unkept'), he gave scoffed when sirius made a pronunciation error with his words (regulus wouldn't've. stupid boy, sirius didn't deserve the title of heir.), he punished sirius and then he went back to his study (*sanctuary).

walburga tells him sirius has been sneaking out to muggle london, he has indecent pictures spelled to his walls, he's changed, orion, he's different now. orion doesn't tell her that sirius had always been different, and never in a good way. (he doesn't tell her that she is the same.)

sirius didn't come back for christmas that year. he doesn't notice till walburga screamed at him. he was more focused on how walburga clung to his regulus closer that year.

by the summer before sirius' fifth year, sirius' fights were no longer contained for his mother. he yelled at anyone who would give him time of day.

bellatrix, portraits, kreacher, walurga of course, regulus even.

not his father.

if he saw his father, he would simply walk away.

sirius never walked away from anyone, but orion was grateful nonetheless. he'd hexed sirius a few times, naturally, but he didn't want it to become something regular.

(he was grateful for the days sirius spent holed up into his room.)

by the end of summer, sirius and him had barely exchanged a word that wasn't orion chastising him and sirius replying with a curt yes father.

(it felt like an insult. father. no, orion wasn't a father to that vile thing. sirius was his mother's son. orion had nothing to do with him. and he knew sirius didn't feel differently - he heard sirius refer to him by name when he conversed with regulus.)

when that year ended, and summer began, sirius didn't grant his father the gift of silence. he yelled at him too. every word orion spoke, sirius gave three in return, every hex orion performed sirius laughed at ('is that it? i've been done worse by kids my year.'). he hates him, now. he doesn't hate walburga as much, walburga stayed in her room more, she came out to scream for a few hours and went back.

he blocks that whole summer out. he hates yelling. he hates being yelled at. sirius was walburga, but worse. infinitely worse. he's so relieved when he wakes up to find sirius gone that he can barely hear walburga's shrieks, or bother trying to undo the careful expression regulus wears.

sirius visits him through walburga regardless. (how funny, at first it had been the other way around). sirius had never been one for letting go of things. he haunts orion's dreams and when he hears certain phrases he thinks of his fallen star.

tldr : orion is reminded of walburga (abuser?) when he looks at sirius and distances himself till he finds himself no longer seeing himself as a father for sirius

stuff i didn't mention : walburga uses regulus as sirius' replacement when he runs away and orion hates her for it even though he does the same , he does 100% despise sirius' muggle/gryfindor/blood traitors esque etc stand points, i just feel like that's a given though soo i didnt include it (sorry!!). he just lets walburga handle it, for the most part.

tysm for the ask @albi-bumblebee <3

[thegrantwater]

new fic alert!!! new fic alert!!!

finally posting something after almost another year long hiatus from writing. i got a little more in depth about where i've been and what it's been like to write this in the end notes of the fic, so if you're curious go there, but i'll definitely be posting about it on here soon. so in the meantime....

we fill the gaps (you and me make three) chapter 1 is posted on my ao3! i've been dropping little hints about it for months, and my story for last years sqsn was the main driving point behind this fic (and yes the title for both fics comes from the same song, in my mind strange birds is a predecessor or sort of outline to this). the intro of strange birds was actually ripped straight from the draft for this, because i started rewriting season 1 almost two years ago and at the time had written some pre-henry-curse regina analysis to tie into it. this first chapter covers the events of s1e1 to about s1e19, and the rest of s1 up to the curse breaking will be chapter 2. consider its length both a treat and a warning that this is going to take a while.

love you guys <3

[padfootastic]

i’m so annoyed why is sirius not treated more kindly why does remus appearing for two seconds of screen time get more grace and understanding than the main fucking character why do i have to find all of this out when i’m 50k words into a doc i’m so annoyed

[goldenstarprincesses]

I really like amechu

But honestly never been a big fan of the way the fandom interprets it? like, the fandom basis it off a grossly incorrect understanding of geo-politics and how debt works

Always seems to make America out to be a stupid dumb child nee 2012 fandom style. All while also making China into a one dimension wicked villain who sexually takes advantage of the innocent young America

Idk gives me the ick

[yestozidk]

THESE ADVISES SUCK. Do they expect me to write summarys of fanfics I read, and wtf does "eliminate distractions" mean am i sposed to hire assasins to shut up my neighbours and how am i gonna "eliminate distractions" in my head, yeah let me just close my toughts while i read, also this text contridicts itself i am sposed to both ask question about the text while I am reading and not get discrtacted. Who even writes these stuff.

[head-empty-river]

godfeels, fuck you (affectionate)

i need to do homework but instead i spent like two and a half days reading 403,043 fucking words (up to the end of interlude before side a and b) and today i started writing an offshoot right after where i stopped reading

bc i got fucking possessed to make an "everyone lives au" with the doomed june who met vv/VV trying to save them, and i've written 3000 words and change already. gotta go back and do all the quirks and colors when i'm done (won't be for a while bc it's a whole thing).

and also might pull some ideas from the crow strider au bc if i'm doing a hopeful story that's like a pinnacle to aspire to. btw it's not a fix it fic bc i don't think anything with the og is wrong; i'm just exploring what could be, in the open space that is left between this june and her obliteration in canon. and i think any roxy would be proud of this june, even if the canon one can't experience the spoils.

anyway. fanfic of fanfic aside. holy shit?

a story (especially a written one bc i got worse at reading after highschool lol, burnout go brr) hasn't gripped me this hard in fucking forever. i have shit to do rn but i'm fucking entranced.

ngl i recommend godfeels, BUT. with the caveat that it is a fucked up rough read. it's immeasurably good, but at the same time honestly more fucked in some places than the epilogues. so very fucked up. but it's so good.

like i feel bad recommending rough reads/listens/watches (like disco elysium, dark [that one show in german on netflix iykyk], hello from the hallowoods, both magnus podcasts, and more; bc i guess i'm just a fucked up little guy [gender neutral] idk), but they can be life altering in a good way. i don't regret my time spent on/in any of those stories. they made me who i am, and i am making myself through one rn.

i avoided homestuck anything for so long and finally dived in headfirst on a reading of it (guilty flygon, my fave terezi voice imo) in early december bc i needed a distraction from, like, everything; and i get the hype now. i think i wouldn't've been able to handle it when i was younger so i'm glad i waited.

since then (gods, only two months wtf) i've consumed the whole og comic, the epilogues, and am up to date on beyond canon as of early feb. i also read all of crow strider and watched mayhaps too many comic dubs, before stumbling upon the godfeels podcast from a post on the voft discord. after listening to all six episodes, i immediately started reading and now i'm here.

fuck.

idk if i even want people to read this or respond to it but if i utter that i read anything homestuck related to people irl... well, yeah. people are judgemental, surprise surprise. so here i am ig. yeeting a journal entry rant thing into schrodinger's void. bc there might be someone looking back.

btw i might post that fanfic of a fanfic on ao3 eventually (only when it's completed, or i know it'll stay unfinished forever), or maybe just keep it as something for myself. we'll see.

[starrytheclown]

Rant ahead!! Very long post:

Welp. There goes tiktok, the first social media app that I started to gain a following on and that help me and many other grow as artists.

This whole tiktok ban is so fucking dumb. Tbh when I saw that the app had been banned I started crying, not cause I was sad that I was gonna lose my moots and a bunch of great people (though I am sad abt that, I miss my moots gang) more so at that fact that people used this app to pay their bills, buy groceries, and just overall make a livelihood for themselves. It pisses me off how people are gonna have to relocate to a new platform and maybe have ti start over at growing the platform again. It fucking sucks.

This app meant so much to me and other ppl, because it honestly helped people learn more about what'd going on in the world, tiktok helped learn more abt palestine amd how what was happening there was bad! This app helped people find or make a community to feel safe and express themselves in, and it sucks that it actually got banned.

I hope tiktok gets brought back, I hope that people who used this app to pay their bills and support their families are doing ok :(

It's gonna be a chaotic next few days with this ban so hope you guys r doing ok <33

(Sorry this is so long I just low key needed to rant abt this)

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

something about going on pinterest after a long productive day of studying and it's the evening and you're tired and feeling kinda funky and stumble upon an edit of one of your favourite ships and it just feels sooo good. like it just feels so right, the particular edit. the way the graphics and cuts are designed and the music and the fancasts, it itches just right. seems to be a monthly thing too.

[blooming-periwxnkle]

This is the last time I am going to rant abt this chapter and

This chapter was so heartbreaking... it honestly pains me sm to see how alone Suwon really is after all. He has accepted that he's gonna die and there's no cure for his illness,and at the very end he just wants to make sure that Kouka ends up in a safe position,even if it means leaving it to the gods,the same gods who are responsible for his clan's suffering and ultimately the unfortunate end that he foresees for himself. Even in his final moments, kouka is all he's thinking about,and he's ready to compromise with his own beliefs as long as it ensures Kouka's stability...

The lack of anyone caring for Suwon as a person is just so heartbreaking. He's dying and when he tries to talk to his childhood friend,the only answer he receives is that he's being selfish rn...seriously Hak?

"Things would've been fine if you married Yona"...is that where everything starts and ends for you? Did you really prefer such a fate for Yona? Yes she would've married the person she had a crush on,but Suwon's stance on it was quite clear since the beginning,he did not wish to marry her,then why do you still think that marrying a person who was always opposed to that idea was the ideal solution for the whole mess?

The way Suwon gave me "I've done all I had to do" vibes in this chapter was so..so sad. It's like he believes the entire purpose of his existence was to ensure his kingdom's stability, as if his existence as a person did not matter at all... and the fact that no one around him is there to tell him otherwise is even worse. He has almost lost all his allies' support,he's literally so lonely right now.

Even during his childhood,his mom was heavily codependent on him, and the 9 yr old child who had just lost his father,had to pretend that he was okay to ensure that his mom's health does not worsen. All the adults around him threw their dreams and ambitions on his shoulders, and as if all this was not enough,his mom ended up writing to the person who was responsible for her husband's death and endangered his life...

After all this.. this is the end he receives...

[aria0fgold]

You gotta believe me, I'm-- I'm Normal-- (favourite moment in ms1.5 being a scene in which Cain was in a dire near-death situation with a severe wound on his stomach due to being attacked by Cerberus cuz of KizuOwen is honestly the opposite of being normal).

[tvrningout-a]

i should've switched to writing original stuff ages ago bc i could've been overcoming writer's block if i did :' )

[dolldoll5987]

I'm finally doing it. I'm k1ll1ng my$3lf.

Dehydration + starvation, and good news is that I'm already a little underweight (by 5 lbs) and I never feel hungry nor thirsty. Something pushed me over the edge. I can't take it anymore.

Look, I have absolutely nothing. Yes, I have a house, a small one and it's by a bad area of town and I'm so scared to go out, but I still try to. I have a family, but not many live nearby, and the few who do I don't like (for a great reason). I only live with my mom, and she's physically falling apart. She's overprotective and won't let me go many places (I'm 19), and she's too broken to take me places, so I'm just suck there. I can go around the block but that's about it. There's nothing nearby besides stores, restaurants, and gas stations. I graduated only 2 months ago but school was all I had.

Because of her overprotective nature, I was never really allowed to hang out with people or really go anywhere after school. To a point, I don't blame her, I was and still am quite a vulnerable person. I have chronic depression, chronic anxiety, anorexia, autism, ADHD, OCD, and anger issues, and I think mild paranoia when it comes to leaving the house. The only thing not officially diagnosed is anorexia and anger issues, which latter you don't really need a diagnosis for, and the former is just obvious at this point. Paranoia, I don't have an official diagnosis for, but I'm paranoid because of how much worse my anxiety has gotten. I think I have derealisation and depersonalisation from my depression as well, but I hate self-diagnosing myself unless it's just blatantly obvious that anyone could tell. Like my anorexia and paranoia.

Medication, therapy, and psych ward visits never helped. I have no friends, I can't drive (and am too anxiety to learn and don't really want to, but I still feel so pathetic bc of it), I can't cook, I can't do laundry, I can't wash dishes, I can't do anything. My mother never taught me these things because I suppose "here, let me teach you," is harder than just being like "I'll do it myself, it's easier." I don't even have the motivation to learn. I don't have the motivation to live. People like me who have been miserable for so long and ruined their life beyond repair deserve death with dignity.

By my own philosophy, there is no meaning to life. You find that for yourself through aspirations, desires, motivation, etc. I don't have anything. I don't want a job because I'm far too mentally unstable for it, and I'd rather die than be forced to work and pay to live this horrible life. I can't go to college because I don't have the motivation for more school, and I was so miserable during middle and high school.

And besides, I legit don't deserve to live. I'm a horrible person. I'm ungrateful, selfish, angry, hateful, pessimistic, and so much more. This isn't untrue because the only two people who care about my existence (my mother being one) have said this, and I agree. The other person was someone whom I've cut significant contact with because I realise I'm too unstable for a relationship and I'm ruining their life too because of it. He said that stuff too (well, most of it). I'm such a despicable human being I can't take it. It's so hard to find the motivation to change when this shitty life drained me of every ounce of motivation I might have once had. And I'm tired of hurting people. I'm doing this to save them, to save myself, and to pay my debt to what I have done.

[bethiewhimsy]

overwhelmed with my love for bsd this fine day

[ccwpidsblog]

crashing out — onyakopon

⭐️: nsfw 18+ in which you learn why your fiancé retired from his old ways

cupids arrows: if you’re new here pls ignore my old post 🙏🏾

Onyakopon was the chillest man you’d ever met.

You remember the first day you met your fiancé like it was yesterday. Your puppy had slipped her leash and bolted after the two of you got caught in the rain. Mud was everywhere—on her paws, on the soaked sidewalk—and you watched in horror as she ran straight for the tall, dark-skinned man with deep waves and glistening golden grills, his baggy jeans and fresh Dunks standing no chance against the chaos she brought.

The muddy paws left stains all over his jeans, and you were mortified. You snatched her up quickly, firing off apology after apology, even offering to clean his shoes and pants. You were so embarrassed you swear you felt your soul leave your body.

But he just shrugged it off, his low brown eyes soft, paired with a small smile that eased your panic.

“You good,” he said simply, his voice calm and mellow, while you were seconds from collapsing in shame.

That day never left your mind, especially after you somehow ended up in a relationship with the man. Ony was so... nonchalant.

You yapped his ear off from morning until sundown, never running out of things to say, and he never once complained. When you accidentally knocked over his grinder, spilling his entire stash of weed, he didn’t get mad—he just kissed you on the forehead to quiet your babbling apologies. When you bleached his Chrome Hearts hoodie, almost crying over it, he shrugged and said, “It’s just a hoodie. I’ll get a new one.” And he did.

He was a sweetheart through and through. He spoiled you, listened to you, and made you feel like you could do no wrong. Even when he proposed—after three years together—it was the most emotion and the most words you’d ever heard him say all at once.

Most of your love lived in unspoken gestures. A look, a kiss on the temple, his hand resting on your knee when you ranted about your day. You always seemed to read his mind before he had to say anything. And you were okay with it—Ony’s silence spoke volumes.

So when his friends sat around telling wild stories—about your Ony chasing some guy down three blocks for stepping on his shoe—you just blinked, completely dumbfounded.

“That was not my Onya,” you said, shaking your head.

It was one of those late summer days where the air felt heavy with heat and conversation. You and Ony were at one of Sasha’s backyard barbecues—loud music, too much smoke in the air, and way too many faces you didn’t know. You didn’t mind, though. Ony always brought you along, hand warm in yours, whispering low in your ear, “You good, ma. I got you.”

But today, Ony had disappeared somewhere in the crowd. Probably off somewhere smoking a blunt to cool. You didn’t mind. Coco was leashed at your side, her tail wagging as she sniffed around, and you were content grabbing a soda from the cooler, letting the afternoon sun warm your shoulders.

Until you noticed him.

Tall, built like Ony but rougher around the edges. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and something about him set you on edge.

“Cute dog,” he said, nodding at Coco, who barked happily.

“Thanks,” you replied, polite but wary. “She’s a menace, but she’s ours.”

The man chuckled, eyes lingering on you. Too long. “Yours and Ony’s, huh? Never thought I’d see the day Ony got himself all... domesticated.”

You blinked, thrown off by his words. “Yeah. We’re engaged.”

For emphasis, you lifted your hand and showed off the engagement ring sitting proudly on your finger. Ony had picked it out himself, saying something about it being “the only rock that could keep up with you.”

The man’s grin faltered for a second before turning sharp again, something ugly flickering behind his eyes. “Man... Ony really cleaned up. Bet you don’t know half of what he used to be on.”

You shifted your weight, suddenly uncomfortable. “Do you know Ony?”

Before he could answer, you felt it. The shift in the air.

You turned to see Ony stepping up, shoulders squared, jaw tight. His calm, lazy demeanor was gone, replaced with something cold and dangerous.

“Yo,” Ony’s voice was low, sharp like a blade. “What the hell you doin’ here, Ricky?”

The man, Ricky, smirked, completely unfazed. “Relax, bro. Just catching up with your girl. Didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to say hi.”

Ony ignored him and stopped in front of you, his hand gently brushing your elbow, like he needed to feel you there, steady and safe. “You okay?” he murmured, voice softer now.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, searching his face. “Who is—”

“You don’t talk to her,” Ony cut you off, his voice sharper again as he looked back at Ricky. “Ever.”

Ricky barked out a laugh, shaking his head like the whole thing was a joke. “Damn, Ony. You really changed, huh? Wife. Dog. Family barbecues. You think this erases all that sh*t we did? Think it makes you better than me?”

You looked between them, confusion swirling in your chest.

Ricky’s smirk widened. “You ain’t gonna tell her? About Kev?”

The name hit Ony like a physical blow. His whole body went rigid.

“Who’s Kev?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Ricky grinned, ignoring you. “The one who didn’t make it ‘cause we were out there actin’ reckless. But you remember that, huh?”

It happened so fast you gasped. Ony’s fist collided with Ricky’s jaw, sending him stumbling back.

“Ony!” you cried as Coco barked wildly.

The crowd turned, the music seeming to dim as Ony’s voice rang out. “Keep my name out your mouth!”

Ricky spat blood and grinned like he’d won. “Same old Ony.”

Ony let Eren drag him back, but his face was still tight, his body vibrating with rage. He didn’t stop to explain. He just scooped Coco into your arms and pulled you out of the backyard, his hand gripping your waist.

“What the fuck was that, Onyakopon?” you hissed as you reached the car.

“Get in the fuckin’ car,” he snapped.

The tone stunned you into silence. It was the first time in three years Ony had ever raised his voice at you. Before you could argue, he lifted you off your feet, set you in the passenger seat, buckled you in, and slammed the door. 

The ride home was silent, the tension so thick it choked the air. Ony’s jaw was set, teeth gritted as his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. You sat stiff in the passenger seat, arms crossed over your chest as you stared out the window. Even the low hum of the engine felt deafening.

When you got home, the silence followed. Ony unlocked the door, opened it for you like he always did, and set your purse down, but his movements were robotic, like he was on autopilot. You didn’t move—just stood there staring at him.

Finally, you snapped.

“You don’t get to act like nothing happened, Ony!” Your voice trembled with anger, eyes blazing as you threw your hands up. “What the hell was that back there?”

Ony didn’t answer. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the couch, walking straight to the kitchen like he hadn’t heard you.

“Don’t walk away from me!” you shouted, following him. “Don’t you dare—”

“I said it don’t matter!” he barked, whirling around. His voice was sharp and raw, cutting through the air like a blade.

You flinched but stood your ground, refusing to let him shut you out. “How can you say that? That man knew you, Ony. He knew things about you I don’t! And the way you hit him? Who was that?! Because it sure as hell wasn’t the man I know!”

Ony ran a hand down his face, pacing back and forth. “You don’t need to know that part of me.”

“Why?” you shot back, stepping closer, fists clenched at your sides. “Because you’re ashamed? Because you don’t want me to see who you used to be?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, his chest heaving as he looked at you, eyes dark and stormy. “It ain’t like that.”

“Then what is it, Ony?” you pushed, voice trembling. “You can’t stand here and tell me you love me—ask me to marry you—and then keep this huge part of yourself locked away like it doesn’t exist.”

“You don’t get it!” he snapped, voice booming. “I was reckless, alright? I was a dumb kid, running around, doing shit I ain’t proud of. You really wanna hear how bad it got? You really wanna know the kind of man I used to be?” His voice cracked, his fists shaking at his sides. “I ain’t that man anymore. I can’t be.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I want all of you, Ony,” you whispered fiercely. “Not just the version you think I deserve. I don’t care how ugly it gets. I’m not some fragile thing you need to protect from the truth.”

He froze, shoulders slumping as he stared at you, something breaking behind his eyes. “I’m tryin’, ma,” he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m tryin’ so damn hard to leave that shit behind. You don’t know what it’s like, carryin’ that with me every day. Losin’ Kev... I don’t ever want to feel that again. I don’t want you to look at me like I’m some monster.”

Your face softened, tears spilling as you stepped closer. “I’m not gonna look at you like that,” you said, your voice shaky but sure. “But I need you to trust me. I need you to stop pushing me away.”

Ony’s gaze flickered to yours, the fight finally draining out of him. He let out a long, unsteady breath and sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his face.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice rough. “I’m sorry I scared you back there. I just... when I saw Ricky talking to you, all I could think about was keepin’ you away from that part of my life. Away from him.”

You took a deep breath, the anger still simmering but softened by his words. “I’m not going anywhere, Ony. But you gotta stop keeping me out.”

He looked up at you then, eyes raw and vulnerable. “You deserve better than the mess I used to be.”

You stepped in front of him, taking his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You’re not that man anymore,” you said softly. “I see you, Ony. I see who you are now. And I’m here because I love you—all of you.”

His expression cracked, something deep in him finally breaking free. He let out a shuddering breath, his hands sliding up to rest on your waist. “Damn, ma,” he whispered, his voice thick. “I don’t deserve you.”

You shook your head, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Stop saying that.”

Ony’s hands tightened on your waist, his eyes holding yours. “Let me make it up to you,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

You blinked at him, breath hitching. “Ony...”

His gaze darkened, the tension between you shifting—charged and electric. Slowly, he stood up, his towering frame forcing you to tilt your chin up to keep looking at him. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it made your knees weak.

“Please,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky and full of promise. “Let me make it up to you, baby. I got you. Always.”

His hands slid up your sides, slow and deliberate, his touch both gentle and possessive. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss—soft and tender at first, then hungrier, like he couldn’t get close enough to you.

“Ony,” you breathed, your voice trembling as he kissed down your jaw, his lips trailing warmth along your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your neck, his words punctuated by soft kisses. “For everything. I swear I’m gonna be better. You just gotta let me show you.”

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping his shoulders. “Show me, then.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes searching yours. “I will,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “Starting right now.”

And that’s how you found yourself lying back on the bed, your body a tangled mess of need and warmth as your fiancé, lost himself in your ocean. His hands gripped your thighs with a possessive force, pulling them up and against your chest as his tongue worked in ways only he knew how to, bringing you to places you’d only ever reached with him. Every motion was deliberate, skilled—each flick, each touch of his fingers pushing you further, deeper into pleasure. His strength held you in place, leaving you no space to escape the sensations he stirred in you. His mouth, hot and insistent, tasted you, marked you, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

The pleasure became too much. Your body jerked, squirming away from the relentless skill of Ony’s tongue, but he was quicker, stronger. His grip tightened on your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. His large palm landed on the side of your thigh with a sharp smack—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you freeze and gasp.

“Where you think you goin’, mama?” His voice was low, husky, as he leaned up, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. His golden grills caught the light, making him look both dangerous and divine. “Why you runnin’ from me? I’m just tryna apologize.”

Your whine came out incoherent, the words caught in your throat as his dark, smoldering eyes stayed fixed on you. He towered over you now, his body an imposing figure as he crawled over you, caging you beneath him. His breath was hot against your cheek, and you stared up at him, dazed, your vision swimming with glassy tears of overwhelming bliss.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his lips pulling into that half-smile, wet and sinful. His smooth, dark skin gleamed, catching the dim light in a way that made him almost unreal, too beautiful to belong to one person alone—but he was yours. Completely yours. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he praised, brushing a thumb over your cheek to catch a stray tear.

Your body trembled as he shifted, lining himself up with slow precision. Then he pushed into you, your shared groans filling the room as he sank in deep. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he stretched you perfectly.

“My pretty fuckin’ wife,” he growled against your lips, his voice thick with possession and reverence.

You didn’t have the strength to reply—just a soft moan as your legs locked around his waist, anchoring him to you, letting him take you to where only he could.

The slow, deliberate roll of Ony’s hips sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, leaving you trembling beneath him. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “You feel so good, baby. Perfect—just for me.”

You could only moan in response, your hands sliding down his back, nails raking gently across his skin. Every movement he made was precise, deliberate, and meant to unravel you. His pace quickened, his control slipping as he pushed deeper, his grunts mixing with your cries.

“Ony,” you gasped, your voice breaking. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist, desperate to feel all of him.

“I got you, mama,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Ain’t lettin’ go. You hear me?” His words were both grounding and intoxicating, pulling you further into the bliss he created with every stroke.

The heat built between you, your breaths turning shallow and ragged. Ony’s forehead rested against yours, his dark, hooded eyes never leaving your face. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, his voice deep and low.

Your glazed eyes fluttered open to meet his, and the intensity in his gaze made your chest tighten. “I love you,” he said suddenly, his voice raw, almost breaking.

The words hit you like a tidal wave, a sob catching in your throat. “I love you too,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as your hands cupped his face.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, his pace growing erratic, matching the desperate beat of your heart. “You’re mine,” he growled against your lips, his movements growing sharper, deeper. “All mine.”

Your body tensed, pleasure coiling tight in your core until it finally snapped, sending shockwaves through you. Your back arched as you cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Ony wasn’t far behind, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, a guttural groan escaping his throat. His body shuddered against yours, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he whispered your name like a prayer.

For a while, neither of you moved, the only sounds in the room your mingled breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets. Ony’s weight was solid and grounding on top of you, his hands still gripping your thighs as though he was afraid to let go.

Finally, he shifted, pressing a gentle kiss to your collarbone before rolling to the side, pulling you with him. He tucked you into his chest, his large hand splaying across your back.

“You good, mama?” he asked softly, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“More than good,” you murmured, your voice still shaky. You tilted your head up to look at him, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his gaze. “I love you, Ony.”

“I love you more,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. He kissed you again, slow and sweet, before resting his forehead against yours.

As your breathing evened out and sleep began to tug at your senses, Ony whispered, “Ain’t nothin’ in this world I wouldn’t do for you, baby. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you replied softly, nuzzling into his chest. “And I’d do the same for you.”

The last thing you felt before drifting off was Ony’s fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, his lips pressing one last lingering kiss to your hair.