#deflecting feelings...he's just like me fr

[todosdream]

stress relief | ony

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

one word: cobwebs.

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

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

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

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

ᥫ᭡

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

again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it just needed to be plugged up again.

ain’t no fuckin’ way.

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

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

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

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

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

lucky bastard.

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

ᥫ᭡

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

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

and then he sees crys.

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

his interest is definitely piqued.

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

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

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

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

hm.

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

how can someone be so fuckin’ pretty?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

shit’s sexy as fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

seriously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᥫ᭡

crys is folding. real bad.

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

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

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

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

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

“what I say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“there she is.”

ᥫ᭡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ᥫ᭡

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

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

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

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

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

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

seems.

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

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

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

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

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

“sit the fuck down.”

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

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

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

ᥫ᭡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lovrre]

-All’s fair in love and war

Prt1. Jacaerys velaryon x fem black Targaryen

Word count: 2k

Summary: Daughter of Daemon, twin to Baela, you always felt like an outsider, too much like your father yet somehow simultaneously not enough. You thought you had no place until Jacaerys, years later, and a injured wrist brings you back to where you truly belong.

Warnings: maybe a curse word, lots of Angst, slow burn,probably some other stuff…

Author note: this will be a series, don’t worry I won’t take forever. (I’ll try) there will be smut in the later parts, a little she fell first her fell harder and ofc yearning touch deprived Jacaerys 🫦

From a young age, you could sense the rift between you and your twin sister Baela. Despite sharing the same womb, your differences were stark. She and Rhaena shared a bond that you could never quite penetrate. It was not their doing, but rather your own fiery spirit that kept you at a distance. Your mother's gentle nature was reflected in them, while you inherited your father's boldness. Though your mother's love was unwavering, you couldn't shake the feeling that a part of her resented your wild ways. Your father's favoritism of you only widened the gap between you and your sister as you grew older.

After your mother's passing, all your unpleasant behaviors seemed to amplify. You became withdrawn, even as a child. harboring anger towards the world and all within it. It felt like you could never live up to anyone's standards. unintentionally Chaos and drama seemed to follow you wherever you went. As you matured, you chose solitude, spending most days flying on your dragon, immersed in books, or reluctantly sparring with your father. With the looming threat of war, you were made to train relentlessly, often multiple times a day. Your father pushed you to practice at odd hours, in the dead of night and early morning. Over time, your body wearied from the constant exertion.

“Again“ Daemon's demand echoed as you swiftly advanced, sword aimed at his exposed chest plate. In a flash, he deflected your strike, the clash of steel ringing out. The force caused you to almost drop your sword, he was not holding back. "Again!" he roared, lunging forward to meet your blade once more. As you staggered back, your wrist throbbing from the impact, your father's eyes gleamed with sadistic excitement. determination etched on your face. Your father's blade comes down towards you, but you manage to defend against it, the sound of iron scraping filling the room. 

With all your might, you push him away stumbling back, a sharp pain shot through your wrist, a soundless crack signaling the injury. With a loud clatter of your sword falling to the ground."I am finished," you declare, with an unreadable expression on your face, as you begin removing your armor.

Daemon's gaze hardened at the sound of your sword falling to the ground. "You are finished when I say you are," he commands, pointing his sword at your discarded one. "Pick it up." "Even if I attempted, I wouldn't be able to," you reply, continuing to remove your armor swiftly and carefully. "I am finished for the day," you state, dropping the last piece of armor as you head towards the exit. Your father calls out for you but you ignore him. "Go pester Baela and Rhaena with your training," you mutter angrily, rubbing just below your wrist as you make your way to your room.

“What is the matter” your sister asked worried as you rushed through the hall to your room holding your wrist. tears welling in your eyes involuntarily due to the pain. “Nothing,” you say attempting to walk past her She blocked your path, stepping in front of you to inspect your hand.  "I can see that something troubles you. Let me assist-" Baela began, reaching out to you. "I have no need of your aid!" you shouted, pulling away from her touch before continuing to your room. The words hung heavy in the air as regret washed over you remembering the look of hurt and shock on her face. Jacaerys observed from afar before he made his way towards Baela to provide solace.

"I only-" she began, then let out a weary sigh.

"I know," Jacaerys murmured, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. "She becomes more unbearable with each passing moment," he grumbled. “I shall speak to her," he declared, feeling a simmering aggravation building up inside him. "Do not," Baela implored. "I do not desire further conflict," she added. 

“It is fine, Jacaerys,” Baela insisted, noticing the lingering frustration on his face. “I am alright,” she said with a comforting smile. “I will leave it,” he replied with a forced smile. “Thank you,” Baela said before turning away, leaving Jacaerys in the corridor, his mind still troubled by the encounter. He made his way to your chambers.

As he approached the entrance to your chamber, the sound of your agonized cry reverberated through the corridors. Startled, he rushed inside to find you collapsed on the ground, surrounded by your gown as you writhed in pain and sorrow, too engrossed in your torment to acknowledge his presence. Never before had he seen you weep, not even in your youth; until this moment, he believed you incapable of shedding tears. "I shall fetch your father," Jacaerys offered, turning to leave. "No!" you cried out, vehemently shaking your head. "Do not send for my father," you insisted, tears shimmering on your cheeks. "I am merely overreacting," you declared, attempting to stand before sinking back down. Jacaerys promptly rushed to your side, lifting you up by your waist.

"What has happened?" He inquired, his brow furrowed as he gazed upon your condition. You look physically pained, your usually glowing skin now dull, your eyes weak. “I was sparring with my father," you gasped, trying to maintain composure in your voice.  The pain was unlike anything you had ever felt before throbbing relentlessly throughout your arm."My hand took a blow, but that is all." you muttered, disoriented as you recoiled from Jacaerys' touch. "I am unharmed," you declared, rising to your feet unaided. He remained close behind, ready to catch you should you stumble once more. "You do not appear well," he noted, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead, damp with sweat.

Your handmaiden entered the room, her face filled with alarm as she took in the sight before her. "She has injured herself," Jacaerys interjected on your behalf, dropping his hand. "I am well Naera," you insisted, your eyelids growing heavy. "You are not," he countered, his gaze fixed on you. "Bring a splint and bandages," he ordered the handmaiden, prompting her to hasten out of the room. “ I think it is broken” hemumbled examining your arm.

"Jacaerys," you muttered, catching his attention. "Do not tell my father," you managed before succumbing to the pain. Jacaerys was there to catch you as you fell into his arms, your head falling into the crook of his neck. Jacaerys carefully laid you on your bed, marveling at your beauty even in your unconscious state. It had been a long time since he had been in such close proximity to you. You had grown so much, he wondered if you had noticed his own newfound maturity. After ensuring that your arm was properly splinted and a wet rag was on your forehead, he prepared to depart. "I can take it from here," Naera declared, assuming control of the task. Jacaerys nodded, but hesitated, his gaze fixed on you as you slept. "Do not trouble yourself with informing Daemon, I will handle it," Naera stated calmly. "She mentioned that-"

  "I am aware," she confirmed with a nod. "Though Veerah is prone to fever, she will need a healer," Naera said as she wrung out another rag to place on your chest. Jacaerys nodded in understanding. "I will take the responsibility when she asks," Naera said with a reassuring smile. "I am grateful for that," Jacaerys replied with a slight smile before turning to depart. "She may not admit it, but she does enjoy company," Naera stated. "Her exterior is hard but her heart is soft," she added with a smile. Jacaerys nodded in understanding before taking his leave.

That night, as Jacaerys retired to his chambers, your memory consumed his thoughts in a way he had never experienced before. He found himself dwelling on the comfort of your presence in his arms, and the scent of you was like a revelation, awakening a desire he never knew existed. The sound of his name on your lips echoed in his mind, stirring emotions he had long forgotten. It had been years since they had exchanged more than a few words, and Jacaerys realized how much he longed for your company. Seeing this new vulnerable side of you sparked a curiosity within him, leaving him to wonder what other secrets you held

~~~

“Again!” you command with a chuckle as young Jacaerys pointed his wooden sword at you. He rushed towards you and you parried his attack, causing your wooden swords to clash. You step back and swing, knocking his sword out of his hand. "I've won, yet again," you declare proudly. "I let you win," young Jacaerys grumbled as he retrieved his sword. "Well then, you should let me lose some time," you jest. "You're the only girl I know who enjoys playing knights," Jacaerys remarks as he sits back on a large rock. "Is that strange?" you inquire uncertainly, joining him on the rock. Jacaerys shakes his head in disagreement. "I don't think so," he replies. "My mother once told me that she went on a hunt, something people say only men do," Jacaerys says, playing with his sword at his side. "I hope one day I can hunt too," you say, gazing into the distance. "We can hunt together," Jacaerys suggests, hopping off the rock and playfully hitting the sword by your side in hopes of provoking a fight. You laugh at his actions. "Try to win this time."

“How many more stones?" young Jacaerys panted, dropping an armful into the pile. "need help?" you chuckle as you place another rock onto the small castle foundation you two were building. "Not at all, I was just curious," he quipped. "Though in my head, I did not expect this to take so many days," Young Jacaerys stated, wiping dirt on his clothes. "Two days is not so many," you reply, placing down another rock. "My father said hard work breeds good results, and we want to build a great empire," you say, wiping the dirt from your hands.  “We could ask Baela and Rhaena to help” young Jacaerys suggested with a smile. You shake your head in disagreement, “they wouldn’t not like this play, too much dirt” you state looking down at your dirt covered hands. “Is that why you play with me?” Jacaerys inquired with a smile. “Yes, and you are useful when I need help with heavier stones” you joke causing the two of you to laugh. 

“We should construct a bridge for the people to cross," Jacaerys proposed. "Indeed! And we shall station guards at the entrance," you chimed in enthusiastically. “Though that means more work,” you say looking over at Jacaerys. “I believe we can do it,” Jacaerys says with a smile. The two of you took turns laying the foundation of your fortress and sent the other to gather the necessary Materials.

After an hour, you both stepped back to admire your progress. A stone hut made of mud and rocks stood before you, nearly complete. "Tomorrow we shall address the roof," you declared, brushing dirt from your hands onto your gown. "We must christen our realm," Jacaerys declared, eyeing the unfinished castle surrounded by picked flowers. "The Kingdom of Drangea," he announced. "Drangea?" you questioned. "Like dragon?" you inquired, puzzled. "No, like hydrangea, your favorite flower," he clarified, watching for your reaction. You appreciate the gesture but still shrugged.

 "I like it, but the Kingdom of Dragons sounds more formidable, a name befitting a ruthless empire." 

"What about Drangea, Kingdom of Dragons?" Jacaerys proposed. "That is a name befitting of a realm," you concurred, selecting a small, jagged stone. With a piece of timber that had been halved, you etched the name onto it. "It is now official," you declared, stepping back to admire it. "If this is our kingdom, then I am the king and you are the queen," Jacaerys proclaimed. Your heart raced in your chest, "I suppose," you replied with a hesitant smile. Sensing your uncertainty, young Jacaerys amended, "The king and queen do not need to be wed -" Jacaerys started, but you cut him off. "We lack crowns," you reassured him with a smile. "The king and queen must have a crown," you furrowed your brow, "tomorrow” Jacaerys stated with a smile. 

~~~~

Seated by the window, a book in hand, your wrist tightly bound in a splint, your eyes gazed outside, lost in thought. For three days, you had been confined to your chamber, sipping on herbal soup and engrossed in a tale of a woman's demise from infection, It was not a very uplifting read. Jacaerys and your sisters attempted to visit, but you dismissed them. "He's not there," Naera's voice resonated as she brought in another bowl of soup. "He's out riding."

"I have no words for you," you replied, turning away to look out the window. "I would rather face your anger than see you fall to fever," she argued. “Where have you been? You know he forbade me to ride?" you questioned, feeling a surge of anger. “He has worked me to the point of exhaustion, shattered my wrist, and then casted me off to die like a horse with a broken leg” you huff. "Could you even mount in your current state?" Naera inquired. "Think of Luke," she proposed.

"That was a unique circumstance," you declared solemnly. "Completely different. Luke was murdered," you affirmed. "Others have ridden in worse conditions safely. We are in the midst of a war, and I cannot ride a dragon," you grumbled, staring out the window.

"I believe your sister Rhaena shares similar sentiments,” she remarked, placing your bowl down. Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Whose side are you on?" you asked, puzzled.

"Yours, always," Naera replied, settling on your futon. "I just worry about how others perceive you," she explained.

“Why?” you questioned, walking over to your bookcase. “They pay me no mind,” you stated, swapping one book for another.

“How can you be sure, when you barely interact with them?” Naera prodded.

"If you're here to lecture me, you can leave. My father has already done so," you retorted aggravated pointing towards the door.

"I apologize," Naera sighed. "I only want what's best for you," she added, fiddling with a book on your futon. "On a brighter note, Jacaerys seemed quite eager to follow your instruction."

"Did he?" You asked, feigning disinterest. "Yes, and he lingered a while after you passed out Naera replied. 

Later that evening You lay in bed, gazing up at the ceiling, unable to find rest due to the agony in your arm and the relentless thoughts swirling in your mind. No matter how hard you tried to push away the worry, it lingered every night, leaving you feeling utterly helpless. To be maimed in the midst of a war was the last thing you desired. Although you were not entirely incapacitated, it felt as though you were. You were forced to remain idle while your kin risked their lives for a cause you would willingly sacrifice yourself for. Their names would be immortalized in history, while you could only watch, all because your father had worked you like a beast for a war you could no longer partake in.

Naera had recounted tales of a mysterious healer, a witch of sorts, who dwelled in her former village. Whispers of her miraculous abilities to ward off death and bless the land with abundance had reached you. If she could breathe life into withered crops, perhaps she could mend your shattered arm, or at the very least, alleviate the pain enough for you to wield a sword once more. It was a reckless gamble, but one you were willing to take.

You rose from your bed and donned the simplest of garments, a difficult task for one who takes such pride in their attire. Gathering a handful of coins hidden beneath the floorboards, you hesitated before opting to take the entire pouch. Pulling up the hood of your shawl, you exited your chambers. Stealthily and silently, you navigated through the manse. As you traversed a corridor, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. Hastily, you turned and slipped into a doorway, inadvertently knocking over a small metal statue with your foot. Cursing under your breath, you pressed your body against the door, hoping to remain unseen. "Who there?" Jacaerys's voice echoed down the hall.

You remained motionless, barely drawing breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You listened as his heavy footsteps drew nearer and nearer. Only catching a glimpse of the back of his head, you observed as Jacaerys strode down the corridor in search of the source of the disturbance. He cast one final glance before turning and exiting the hall. You remained still for a time, ensuring it was safe. Once you were certain he had departed, you ventured to the cave where your dragon lay. Taking hold of a torch that lit your path as you made your way to your beast.

you creeped forward beckoning for her, "Qamar," you whispered, rousing her from her slumber at the sound of your voice. "Qamar, it is Veerah," you called out once more. You heard her emit two loud huffs, lifting her weary head as she approached the torchlight. "Awake," you stated before her large blue nostrils became visible in the light's haze as she sniffed the air. "I have missed you," you confess with a smile, caressing her face with the same tenderness and compassion you had shown her when she was just a youngling.

Y/n?" Jacaerys called out from behind you, causing your heart to sink. "You followed me?" You questioned angrily turning to face him. "Rightfully so it seems, you are not planning to ride?" he asked looking over your shoulder at your Dragon. "And if I am?" you challenged. "If you were, I would tell you that it is a certain path to demise," Jacaerys retorted seriously, moving closer. "my actions do not concern you," you declared, pulling off your hood. Even in the dim light, Jacaerys couldn't help but notice how beautiful you were. 

"Where are you going?" Jacaerys inquired as you circled the dragon, with him following closely behind.  "Once again, that is none of your concern," you stated, tightening the saddle straps on Qamar. "I will not let you to leave," Jacaerys declared as he watched you attempt to mount your dragon

"You do not let me to do anything," you State before your hand was overcome with a searing pain, causing you to lose your grip on the reins. Fortunately, you fell into Jacaerys' arms, his chest heaving with concern as he gently lowered you to the ground. You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. 

"How much further do you think you'll get?" Jacaerys interjected, his voice a blend of concern and frustration. 

“I do no-“

"How much further do you think you'll get in the dead of night with a broken wrist and no one to aid you?" Jacaerys questioned, his eyes filled with a seriousness that you had never witnessed before, and it suited him well. 

“Far, I reckon ” you jest, provoking a surge of anger in Jacaerys. “I am serious y/n, Do you seek death?” He inquired sternly, his eyes fixed on you. “You cannot deter me, I have made my decision,” you say meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. “I will not stand by as you all risk your lives.” you state. “What of your life?” Jacaerys asked, “Am I to sit Idly by as you risk your own?”

“Yes, you are, you are to watch as you have always. do not feign friendship now Jacaerys," you pause. "My affairs are my own, they do not concern you," you state before checking the security of the saddle once more. 

"I will inform your father," Jacaerys states gravely, causing you to turn and look at him in disbelief. "You would not dare," you challenge. "Oh, but I would," Jacaerys states firmly a smile playing on his lips. "Or I can assist you," he offers. "I do not require your assistance” You bluntly reply. "Those are your choices" he reminds.

~~~~

Seated on the cold stone floor of your unfinished castle, you meticulously added leaves to the crown in your hands. The crowns, one for you and one for Jacaerys had been your labor since morning. Your fingers ached with fatigue as you continued to weave, but the image of his smile spurred you on. You hoped that by the time you finished, you would have gathered enough courage to correctly express your feelings to Jacaerys. Your mother had often read to you tales of young love and innocent crushes where rejection was inconsequential in the world of children's books. You hoped for real life to mirror those stories. Expressing emotions, even pain, was a challenge for you, it always left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. As you secured the final stem beneath the others, you raised your weary head to gaze at the sky, now painted in hues of orange. Time had slipped away from you, and you had anticipated Jacaerys's arrival by now. Yet, he had not shown up, leaving you alone with the completed crowns of flowers and leaves. you debated venturing out to search for him. Yet, there was a part of you that was certain he would come, so you decided to wait.

You remained in that unfinished castle until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The darkness enveloped the outside world, and only then did you rise, brushing the dirt and grime off your dress. The woven crowns remained tightly clutched in your hand as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Wiping them away, you left the stone hut and made your way through the corridor of the home, your mind racing with reasons for his absence. "Veerah!" Naera's voice called out to you. She was younger than at the age of ten and five. her sympathetic eyes looking down at you covered in dirt. "What's wrong?" she asked, wiping the dirt from your cheeks with her thumb. "I'm fine," you replied, pushing her hand away. "Have you seen Jacaerys?" you questioned, causing Naera to tense. "Did something happen to him?" you asked worried, making Naera shake her head. "No, Jacaerys is fine," she assured, instantly bringing a smile back to your face "Where is he then?" you asked trying to contain your excitement as you squeezed the woven crowns in your hands.

 “He is in the drawing room,” Naera says with a sad smile gesturing to the door. You smile completely unaware approaching the door. You push it open slightly to see, young Jacaerys standing with his chest up, wooden sword pointed to the ceiling. “I will save you my queen” he announced Charging forward. Causing your sister Baela to fall back with a giggle, in her perfect princess dress “You have to get through me first!”  your little sister Rhaena declared pretending to blow fire from her mouth. Young Jacaerys pretends to slay her with his wooden sword causing your Baela to run into his arms. “Thank you, brave knight,” she says leaving him a kiss on his cheek. In this story, Jacaerys was a knight, Baela a princess, and Rhaena a dragon. And what were you? Nothing, the fool. 

Never in your life before had you felt so embarrassed, embarrassed that you believed even for a moment someone would pick you. Dropping the crowns on the floor you left and never spoke of it again. Never again did you acknowledge you and Jacaerys past friendship, you barely acknowledge him. You spent the next six years focusing on yourself and yourself only.

~~~

You both sat in the back of a carriage, facing each other, packed like stowaways as the carriage jolted along the rough path. "You appear improved, how are you feeling?" Etwa asked, looking at you. "Do not feel pressured to speak," you said bluntly, attempting to silence him. “you are the only person I know who remains in a perpetual state of unhappy" Jacaerys declared, gazing at you with a perplexed expression. "Then you have not encountered enough people," you retorted plainly, resuming your silence. focusing on the sound of the creaking carriage wheels on the road. 

"I did not inform your father, if that is why…," Jacaerys commented, attempting to break the silence. “I was made aware,” you declare with a tight lipped smile. The silence did not last long as he resumed speaking. “However… if your health were to not improve I might have considered-”

"Are you always so?" you asked, irritation rising within you. "So what?" Jacaerys inquired, puzzled. "Annoying," you stated bluntly. He surrendered, releasing a sigh and reclining back against the wall, clasping his hands in his lap. The moment he ceased speaking, you secretly hoped he would continue. Yet, you also enjoyed the sight of defeat in his expression. You were unwell, and you were aware of it. Your interactions with Jacaerys felt like a constant struggle within yourself, even when you meant to speak kindly, only harsh words escaped your lips.

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

[reidsbuckley]

Things that don’t make sense if Eddie Diaz is in fact straight and Evan Buckley does not have romantic feelings towards him:

• “they’re not my type” says Eddie Diaz after seeing literally most of the possible types a man could have– including one who is the exact type that his (dead) wife is

• Buck saying “thanks” to being told that he and Eddie have “an adorable son” rather than correcting the lady

• Eddie saying “I don’t want to feel like I have to perform” in reference to him going out on dates with women

• Tommy being surprised that Buck said he was trying to get his attention (we all thought he was trying to get Eddie’s let’s be so fr)

• Buck saying “I don’t have to sleep with everyone I have feelings for” despite having, in fact, slept with everyone that he’s canonically had feelings for (so like…it only makes sense he’s in love with Eddie from that statement alone)

• Eddie having a literal panic attack at the thought of being a ready-made family with a woman despite his years of co-parenting Christopher with Buck (as confirmed by OS and a writer/producer/someone who works on the show that I can’t remember the name of)

• Buck’s “yeah, I know exactly what you mean” after Eddie said that he and Tommy just “clicked” 💀

• Eddie’s inability to actively participate in a long-term relationship with a woman

• Buck’s inability to shut up about Eddie for 2 seconds (I am so sorry Ravi 😭 that man was gonna drag you down with him!)

• Eddie telling Father Brian that he’s straight when literally no one brought that up

• Buck calling Eddie straight when literally no one in that convo said he wasn’t as a way of deflecting from answering Maddie’s question of if he’s in love with him

• Buck immediately clocking who Tommy was talking about when he said “don’t make me say it” about who he felt was his competition with Buck

• Buck saying that Eddie’s straight and Tommy’s response of “okay” with a snort 😭 clock the tea!

• “I just think you’re not sure of your own feelings yet, and if there’s something you need to tell Eddie you will– in your own time” — Maddie Buckley I wanna give you a kiss for all your Buddie warriorism over the last 7 years.

Like baby we’ve won a third of the battle with them making Bi Buck canon, can we get the other two thirds of Gay Eddie and Buddie canon?

[getobitchs]

Lying To Yourself If You Think We’re Fine - G. S.

✧.* content warning: angst (like usual)

✧.* w/c : 935

✧.* n/a : this is the shit I think about at 1am fr, inspired by moms sabrina

✧.* tagline : @sugurus-thoughts ;

“You’re confused and I’m upset.”

₊ ⊹ 🫐 ✧ ˚i

It all started with Gojo Satoru’s signature charm, the kind that made it easy to ignore the red flags waving in the distance.

He wasn’t the most emotionally intuitive person — that much was clear from the beginning.

“I know you’re not the sharpest tool in the shed.”

It was part of his charm, you’d tell yourself. His carefree attitude, his inability to take anything too seriously. It kept him lighthearted when the world was unbearably heavy, and for a while, you appreciated it.

But over time, that same obliviousness that drew you in started to wear on you. You’d pour your heart out, trying to reach him, and he’d respond with a distracted smile or a half-hearted, “What? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

We had sex, I met your best friends.

It had started out as fun, lighthearted and easy. Gojo had introduced you to his world with no hesitation.

“Geto, Shoko—meet my new favorite person,” he’d said, grinning as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

Geto had raised an eyebrow, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Satoru’s favorite person? That’s quite the title.”

You’d laughed, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks. For a while, being with Gojo felt like you were part of something bigger.

But as much as you tried to believe in his sincerity, there was always a nagging doubt in the back of your mind.

I don’t hear a word ’til your guilt creeps in.

And then, the pattern began.

When things got too close, too real, he pulled away. It would start with a missed text, a canceled plan. Then days would stretch into weeks, the silence between you growing heavier with every passing moment.

Until finally, his guilt would pull him back.

“Hey,” he’d text, the word so soft, so casual, like he hadn’t left you hanging on the edge of uncertainty. And like clockwork, you’d let him back in.

We were going right, then you took a left.

Left me with a lot of shit to second guess.

You tried to tell yourself it was normal, that relationships weren’t always perfect. But every time things felt stable, he’d throw you off balance again.

One day he was all in — laughing with you, holding you like you were his entire world. The next, he was cold, distant, unreachable.

“Do you even want this?” you’d asked him one night, your voice barely above a whisper.

His response had been a shrug, followed by a deflective joke that made your heart ache.

Guess I’ll waste another year on wondering if.

If that was casual, then I’m an idiot.

The more time you spent with Gojo, the more you questioned yourself. You hated the power he had over you, the way he could make you feel like the most important person in his life one moment and an afterthought the next.

“Do I mean anything to you?” you’d asked once, your voice trembling under the weight of your insecurities.

He’d looked at you like you’d asked the most ridiculous question in the world. “Of course, you do,” he’d said, and for a moment, you believed him.

Lying to yourself if you think we’re fine.

You’re confused and I’m upset.

You wanted so badly to believe that the two of you could work, but the cracks were impossible to ignore. Gojo’s avoidance, his inability to talk about anything serious, his constant retreat into his own world — it was suffocating.

“Why can’t we ever just talk about this?” you’d asked one night, frustration spilling out of you.

But he’d only shrugged, brushing you off like he always did.

All the silence just makes it worse, really.

’Cause it leaves you so top of mind for me.

The silence between you was deafening. Every time he left, he took a piece of you with him, and every time he came back, you let him in.

You hated how much space he took up in your mind, how his absence seemed louder than his presence ever was.

We never talk about how you found God at your ex’s house.

Always made sure that the phone was face down.

You didn’t want to believe the rumors at first, but the signs were impossible to ignore. The phone always face down. The late nights with no explanation. The way he’d flinch whenever you asked where he’d been.

When you finally confronted him, he didn’t deny it.

“You’re overthinking this,” he’d said, his tone so dismissive it made your chest tighten.

“Am I?” you shot back. “Because it feels like I’m the only one thinking about this at all.”

“Seems like overnight, I’m just the bitch you hate now.”

The change was sudden, like flipping a switch. One day he was teasing you, kissing you, pulling you into his orbit. The next, he was cold, distant, treating you like you were the problem.

It was like he’d decided overnight that you weren’t worth his time anymore. And the worst part was, you couldn’t even figure out why.

We never talk it through.

How you guilt-tripped me to open up to you.

Then you logged out, leaving me dumbfounded, ooh.

You replayed every conversation, every moment you’d let yourself be vulnerable with him. You’d let him in, trusted him with parts of yourself you didn’t share with anyone else.

And he’d taken that trust and left you with nothing but silence.

You wanted to scream, to demand answers, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain he’d caused you. But every time you tried, the words caught in your throat.

And Gojo? He was already gone.

[slamsuckingslut]

willne and y/n being good friends, where shes been in his videos a couple times before and people always do edits of them and lowkey ship them⭐️

and everybody thinks theyre dating but theyre all like "no guys😣!!" but they actually are down bad for eachother

PLEASE MAKE THEM END UP TOGETHERRR😭

thanks bestie!☺️

Omg this is a cute idea. i fw cutesy shit like this heavy anon. I'm gonna assume fem reader cause u said she, so she it will be.

WillNE x fem!reader

No details abt y/n, just that she is girl and has been on Wills channel and has one of her own.

Potential title;

what the fans want, the fans get.(its me, im fans.)

NO NSFW, JUST CUTESY !!

Anytime Will posted a video and y/n was in it, it would get more views than the ones with James, or if y/n posted featuring Will. And mainly because the comments.

lord the comments.

"omg they'd literally be the best power couple on youtube"

"THE TENSION, JUST KISS ALREADY"

"PLSSS I NEED YOU TWO TO GET TOGETHER ALREADYY"

"bro fr rizzed her up"

Will and y/n never directly responded to comments, unless one made a joke to the other about them, making the other blush slightly. Or if James decided to make a joke, which would make both of them incredibly flustered as they immediately deflected it.

"what? Me and her/him would never work, dating her/him would be a bloody nightmare."

"Will(or)Y/n? Seriously? Nah, I don't think that'd work.."

Are just a few of the usual responses to either of them would give if asked about the comments, or if a joke happened to be made.

But privately, it wasn't so much of a joke. Will would make it seem like he couldn't stand dating her, but really that's all he wanted. And y/n seemed to think Will genuinely didn't want her, but she most definitely wanted him.

The way she'd stare at him when he spoke, or did anything really, would make Will's heart skip a beat.

The way Will would offer to help her with things or get things higher up for her gave her butterflies, especially if he reached around her.

Basically the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and the fans definitely noticed more and more in the videos of the two together.

And like the fans they are, would comment on every single little interaction and blow up the videos by just shipping them.

Today was no different, y/n being at Will's as they talk over ideas for videos and hang out, and boy are the comments from the fans relentless.

"Y'know, Will, I think the fans want us to get together. Wouldn't it be funny if we did a joke video of us going on a date or something? Just to mess with them?"

Will immediately blushed but hid by turning away slightly and letting out a laugh as he nodded, he managed to get himself under control and not blush.. but his cheeks were still definitely pink at the idea of taking her on a date, even as a joke.

"Ah yeah, that'd be well fun, eh? Get to take a pretty girl like you out and mess with those morons."

Now it's y/ns turn to blush as she stares at him and smiles a bit, letting out a little laugh. She nods a bit and stares at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"But just as a joke.. right? Wouldn't want to over indulge them, right?"

Will seemed to think for a second at that as he stared at her, not really knowing what to say. He could either reject the girl he's been wanting for ages or make a fool of himself if she didn't want him.

She stared at him as she waited for a response, hoping he'd say for real, but also hoping that'd he'd play it off as a joke just so it doesn't get awkward.. but it's already awkward as they silently stare at eachother.

"I uhm-.. I mean if you want it to be a real date, I'd take you on one.. but surely you wouldn't, don't wanna over indulge the fans, eh?"

Will managed to say, feeling like his heart had broken his ribcage then dropped into his stomach as he stared at her. He managed a smile and a small chuckle as he ignored how sweaty his palms felt.

Y/n on the other hand, was freaking out. Her stomach twisting and doing flips as she tried to fight the growing warmth on her cheeks as she stared at him.

"I wouldn't mind a real date.. If you were serious."

She said as she stared at him, ignoring the lump in her throat as she bites the inside of her cheek, staring at him hopefully as she hopes he was serious, and not just messing with her.

He nearly died. He was absolutely giddy with excitement as she confirmed she'd go on a real date with him. Shit. She wants to go on a date with him. His stomach does flips as he stares at her and smiles widely.

"Obviously I'd take you on a real date, y/n. But we definitely shouldn't over indulge the fans, they might all explode, the morons.."

He said as he got closer to her, seeming like he wanted to touch her somehow, but didn't want to overstep.

She stared at him as she smiled, her cheeks flushing a light red as she looked at him and stood right in front of him and glanced at his lips.

"I'll go on the date if I get a kiss. Gotta know that you're serious, y'know?"

She said as she shrugged and stared up at him expectantly, grinning slightly.

He smiled but froze, staring at her for a second. He sneakily wiped his hands on his pants, de-sweaty-ing his hands before he gently cupped her cheeks.

He hesitantly leaned in, pressing a soft and gentle kiss to her lips she could pull away from anytime. But he hoped she wouldn't and that she was serious.

And boy was she serious. She gently put her hands on his jaw, kissing him back as she smiled.

Eventually they both pulled away, staring at eachother and smiling like idiots, which they were idiots for not getting together sooner.

"So, where we goin for that date Lovely?"

"Hm, I dunno.. Surprise me, but not somewhere super fancy, somewhere simple."

He smiled, nodding as he heard her request for a simple date. He stared at her for a moment before kissing her again, to which she happily kissed him back, hugging him tightly.

BONUS!!!!

It has been months since they'd been dating, and finally decided to tell the fans. Using y/ns original idea of a fake date, but it just being a real date that will could write off as a business expense. Which got millions of views, and loads of comments.

"OMFG ARE THEY ACTUALLY OFFICIAL??"

"HOLY SHIT HE BAGGED HER FINALLY"

"Omg they're so cute together I can't-"

"lil bro actually rizzed her up"

Despite it being an even split between doubtful comments and comments being overly excited they got together, they eventually decided to confirm it to the fans a few weeks later..

To which so many of them freaked out, in a happy way. Tweets, posts, comments, and all of the above from fans freaking out over their favorite ship finally being confirmed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bro this was so silly goofy to write, i love it smsm.

BUT PEOPLE FROM OTHER FANDOMS PLSPLS GIVE ME REQUESTS, I LOVE DOING WILLNE BUT I NEED MORE IDEAS FOR THE OTHER THINGS I LIKE PLSPLSPLS

also to the anon or multiple that keep requesting willne, i will continue to feed u trust 🙏 love u

[frutigerfischl]

OH MY BODY, I HATE THIS BODY

⌗ SONG┆skeleton bones ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ TAGS ┆m!reader, mlm, trans reader, trans comfort, body dysphoria, gender affirming treatment, slight angst to fluff ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ NOTE┆more baizhu content bc I really love him he's my cutie patootie fr, I'm trans so I'm self projecting a lot here lol, basically reader getting gender affirming treatment from baizhu and just overall very fluffy and comforting, song isn't really related to the scenario I just like to name my fics after song lyrics and link the songs so you can listen if you wish, that's all sorry for the yapping ★ ₊ ˚⟡

The familiar scent of herbs clung to the air, heavy and comforting in its complexity. You pushed the wooden door to Bubu Pharmacy open, the gentle chime of the bell marking your arrival. Baizhu stood behind the counter, carefully decanting a viscous green liquid into a set of glass vials.

"Y/N," Baizhu greeted, his voice as smooth and measured as always. He looked up, the faintest smile curling his lips. "I was wondering when you’d come by. Qiqi’s been asking about you."

"She’s sweet," you replied, stepping inside fully and closing the door behind you. "I missed our last walk. I’ll make it up to her soon."

Baizhu’s perceptive eyes lingered on you just a moment too long—not enough to feel invasive, but enough that it unsettled you. His gaze often had that effect, as though he could see the tension woven through your shoulders and the way you hugged your jacket close, despite the warm spring breeze outside.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his tone gentle. "And I don’t mean your usual complaints about sore muscles or sleepless nights. You’ve been carrying something heavier than that."

You hesitated, already preparing to deflect. "I—"

"It’s alright," Baizhu interrupted softly. "You don’t have to answer right away. Come sit. Let’s talk."

Baizhu led you to one of the chairs in the consultation room. His movements were slow and deliberate, the way he always was—graceful yet burdened by the chronic ailments you’d heard whispers of in town. He sat across from you, folding his hands atop the table.

"I..." You trailed off, unsure where to begin. Your hands fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. "It’s... I’ve been feeling off. I keep looking in the mirror, and it’s like..."

"Like the reflection doesn’t match who you are," Baizhu finished for you, his voice kind.

Your throat tightened, and you nodded. "Yeah. I thought maybe I could just ignore it, push it down like I always do, but... it’s getting harder. Some days I don’t even want to leave my apartment."

Baizhu hummed in understanding, leaning forward slightly. "I see. And have you spoken to anyone about this? Your friends, perhaps?"

You shook your head. "No, I don’t want to burden them. They wouldn’t understand—not really."

Baizhu’s brows furrowed just enough to show concern. "You’re never a burden, Y/N. And while it’s true that some may not fully understand, I hope you’ll allow me to offer my help."

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, a lump settled in your throat. The kindness in Baizhu’s tone was so steady, so unwavering, that it left you momentarily unmoored.

"I..." You swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in your eyes. "I don’t even know where to start. I feel stuck in this body that doesn’t feel like mine, and I don’t know if I’ll ever feel right. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?"

Baizhu’s expression softened further, his hand reaching across the table—not to touch, but to rest close enough that you could reach out if you wanted to.

"There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N," he said firmly. "Your feelings are valid, and you are worthy of care and respect, just as you are. But if your body causes you discomfort, there are ways to help ease that pain."

The conversation flowed naturally after that. Baizhu, with his extensive medical knowledge, laid out options you hadn’t dared to imagine. He spoke of herbal treatments that could alleviate dysphoria, routines that could help sculpt your body over time, and—most importantly—a path toward gender-affirming treatment.

"I won’t lie to you," Baizhu said, his voice both cautious and encouraging. "The road won’t be easy, and there will be challenges. But I believe in your strength, and I’ll be with you every step of the way—if you’ll allow me."

For the first time in weeks, the weight pressing against your chest eased just a little.

"You’d really do that?" you asked, your voice quiet but hopeful.

Baizhu smiled, a rare warmth lighting his features. "Of course. You are more than just a patient to me, Y/N. You are someone I care for deeply. It would be my honor to help you find peace within yourself."

Months later, you stood in front of the same mirror that had once filled you with dread. Your reflection had changed—not drastically, but enough that the disconnect between mind and body didn’t sting quite as sharply.

"You look good," Baizhu said from behind you, his voice laced with pride.

You turned to face him, a small but genuine smile on your lips. "I feel good."

Baizhu’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his hand brushing yours. "That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you."

[moonshynecybin]

#he really does cut people out cold shoulder them with no discussion huh.... fascinating man......#invisible transgressions remembered forever at arms length#he is. i think. pathologically nonconfrontational. idk even with the sepang stuff.#like he doesnt look at marc AT ALL only performs to the press. same with argentina he sends uccio.... <- *eye* have a theory that vale on his factory settings is actually quite a desperate people-pleaser. not necessarily in a "i need others to approve of me" way (though that too) but in a "i need for others to cheer for me" (to try and explain what i mean better, he's not doing anything just to get the approval but he wants to feel approved/supported for whatever he's doing. different catalysts for action, same need). that's why he can play the crowd so well. and sepang - i think it was genuinely a protracted breakdown caused by vale realizing he's not superhuman anymore and his lead slipping and compounded by the anniversary of the worst loss he's suffered in his life

post about graziano here, jorge confrontation here

like the thing about vale is. well we dont personally know him. so outside of stuff people close to him tell us, we only see the side of him he wants to show the press, which is still him, just more of a performance, i think. its already been discussed AT LENGTHHH that he loves to do this sort of performance and is just. generally very good at being a celebrity. and i think its an extension of his PR deftness that when jorge comes at him he just laughs and looks at his audience. he ropes them into a private joke, like can you believe this guy? which jorge (who takes to confrontation like a duck to water) HATES so bad. its a very effective deflection tactic. fr the easiest way to seem like the bad guy is to treat an argument like it is worthy of your attention. so he meep-meep roadrunner court jesters his way through off track conflict for the majority of his career. and yes he makes enemies and they tell US that he is being cold and prickly and treating them differently. but crucially. he does not seem anything other than a Chill Dude in front of the cameras. until well. sepang lol.

so yes! i think he is invested in controlling these narratives and good at it to boot. but!!!! where it gets crazy is when you get to the personal arenas. like the people he loves that he is actually invested in. where his feelings are on the line fr.

like for other (professional) conflicts he gets over it!! but not with his dad and not with marc. and part of the marc stuff is the ego involved (theyre having a GOAT-off) and the professional stakes, as ive discussed. BUT. i think he doesnt get over these two because. well. because they really really hurt his feelings, i think. like he's said in the past that he's been able to get over the rivalries he has with other racers (like biaggi) bc they WERENT friends before so he didnt gaf when it got nasty. but. he still. REALLY cares with marc. (and of course with his parents divorce. like yeah that makes sense) so i actually think its very telling that he isnt over sepang. and that he didnt look at marc at all whenever they had their epic divorce moments (sepang press conference, postrace argentina 2018) rosquez would be less real if he could just move on lol. like it is a divorce to them both for REAL. so vale is going to handle it the same way he did with his parents and quietly cut marc out while making it. VERY clear. that marc is no longer one of the people that he holds within the select bubble that gets to see vale without all of his press trappings.

[merlucide]

gonna have a convo with my dad tmr (rant about dad tingz)

I’m gonna do it 🗣️ and he’s gonna have to listen

I invited him to take me to lunch (LMAO)

I’m gonna tell him how I feel and hope for the best, he’s going to get defensive and deflect it but I’m ready fr 💪 He’s prob gonna gaslight a tad too lol

He’s not a bad dad, just not the best yk? He’s not mentally/physically abusive thank God but he’s like…. special.

He makes me so upset— I mean he’s really hurt me and there has been moments were he has physically hurt me. That was a while again but those were impactful moments for me, and bitch I don’t remember an apology?! then I get after bro for doing what he did to me to my sister and like I was angry crying and getting off at him bc you don’t fucking hurt people and not apologize?!? THATS NOT FUCKING DISCIPLINE?! ITS ABUSIVE. And bc you are so fucking prideful and don’t want to face the fact that you hurt me, you hurt her, you are going to deny and say ‘well that’s what happens in life’. Shes 7. SEVEN. Who is on the spectrum and has ADHD. She doesn’t fucking understand you asshole. NO SEVEN YEAR OLD IS GOING TO TAKE AWAY ‘I shouldn’t have done that’ WHEN YOU FUCKING DO THAT. She’s going to remember how YOU hurt her, and how YOU didn’t apologize, how YOUR wife held her and deescalated the situation. You cannot blame a child for acting like that, yeah she was acting absolutely insane and frustrating, but you as a fucking grown adult cannot hurt your child like that. AND THEN COMPARE YOU TO ME?!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?.

And he doesn’t even care about her, it’s sad. I mean this whole situation is fucked up man, I get it. My siblings quite literally ruined my life tbh.

How do you think I felt when my dad stopped caring about me? Stopped playing with me— and started yelling. How do you think I felt when you turned grey and I was the only one helping momma with the kids. I was little too. I didn’t know it would get so crazy after we adopted them?! No one did?!? So stop blaming this shit in my mom you signed those fucking papers too. She’s still your daughter you asshole. Care about her too. You don’t get to make efforts with me once a month then discard her. AND fucking act like you don’t have a son anymore, just because he is out of the house doesn’t mean you have no connection to him. If he was a normal fucking kid he’d wonder why his dad is the only one that doesn’t call. But since he’s also fucked in the head he doesn’t, it’s better that way. I hate and love my siblings. Well, I love my sister, I’d kill for her. I love my brother too, but I hate him, yes it sounds ridiculous considering the overwhelming age difference between us but he hurt me significantly. I’m glad he’s gone, he’s doing better anyways. I wish things were different. I wish he could’ve been normal. Lmao I remember thinking ‘I just wish he was never born’ lol. It’s not his fault their parents sucked.

Anywho wow getting sidetracked here—

My dad is a crazy Winston Churchill ‘follower’ of you would. Constantly quoting him and wtv sooooo I have a couple quotes ready to fire at him when he gets defensive… heheh

I feel so prepared lmao

I’ve also talked about him so much with my mom so I’m like extra ready lol

I just need to get it out yk.

Also if anyone is reading this (which I doubt) my dad is NOT abusive or wtv— i am not in danger or wtv 😭🙏 im not in denial I’m quite aware of how my life looks so know it’s ok. And again, my dad isn’t a bad dad, there’s just a lot of pain in our relationship 🫠 He tries, just it’s never what I need yk. He loves me and our family, he just has issues of his own (Not excusing in the slightest- in fact I think it’s a shitty excuse but yk) I love my dad, he’s just rlly hurt me yk

[intothegalaxy]

Life update I guess

I’m really just talking to the void but o well

Approaching 2 months on T, found out what it’s like to be bodily *coughs* but not mentally (haha ace things) means my body decides at any given moment to need the bathroom so badly (even within the same minute!!). Oily and smelly but I’m used to being more oily I have PCOS lmao I be running them daily showers like no tomorrow

Voice has been dropping gradually but I have been able to deflect by raising my pitch for when I’m using my legal name to important calls or my non chosen name to coworkers that don’t know yet but that’s changing soon! I submitted my petition for my legal name change Wednesday and my hearing is set for Dec 3rd! I’ve bonded super well with my trans coworker to the point it’s not even BPD infatuation/idealization it’s like holy shit I think he fr loves me and I think I fr love him because he DEADASS offered to go to the hearing with me as an observer (there’s TONS of other things between us like him speeding up my process for even getting on T but just hhhh) anyways hi I totally exist or well kinda

Idk it also feels nice finding someone after back to back trusting and loving someone and then out of nowhere getting pranked™️ he truly is the sweetest and always reassures without me even needing it so hhhhh my ace demiromantic ass be enjoying every little bit of this

[depmode]

Rate Your OC Tag!

i was kindly tagged by @frizzlelamb so now everyone will be subjected to me talking way too much about my rook once more<3 i tag literally Anyone who sees the post and wants to do it, rook/DA character or not. be free, talk about your imaginary child as much as you want, tell everyone i gave you permission!!

Sasha 'Rook' Ingellvar

Compassion: 6/10 sasha has a lot of it, and his first choice will always be to help someone. but it matters what that help is or what the consequences are. he's not a bleeding heart type; more of a 'make sure to look at the bigger picture too' type. but he'll always do as much as he can when he can.

Bitterness: 3/10 he should be more bitter tbh.

Happiness: if you asked him, 8/10. the truth is more of a 4/10. sasha isn't lying, or pretending to be happy, exactly. he's just... really really good at repressing and compartmentalizing and putting himself in the role of somebody unbothered. and has low expectations. and has a massive fondness for death and the fact that he is going to die one day, so you just gotta make it to that point. It's Complicated.

Politeness: 8/10 when it's deserved, 1/10 if he has decided otherwise. he tries for nice, but he has fun being not nice too.

Chivalry: 6/10? honestly i find this one hard to rank, i would never use this word for any character everrrr. sasha is gay so that's either really chivalrous or really not i guess lmao.

Pride: ooooooh. this one is tough so im going to middle it, 5/10. sasha has as much or little pride as he needs. so, you know how growing up sometimes there's that one kid the "cool" kids pretend to be friends with and include, but they are actually being mean and insulting to? that's who sasha would compare himself to growing up, with the difference being he knew they were doing it. he has no problem swallowing his pride and rolling over.

he has also gotten into physical fights over insults. so 🤷‍♀️ he's the hottest coolest and most wretchedest mistake of god in the grocery store.

Honesty: 8/10. honesty is the best policy fr. he will tell you your outfit looks like shit, but he'll also help you fix it. the 2% is reserved for his use, so he doesn't have to be too emotionally or personally honest in the rare occasions he hasn't successfully deflected away from that.

(fun side note: sasha was more truthful with solas than he is with most people. considering the circumstances he didn't see reason to hide things; the man was literally in his head, and was the only person sasha could confide in. plus, sasha was trying to convince him not to end the world so, all cards on the table y'know. then somewhere along the way he got big feelings and he was honest because he was a heartsick loser.)

Bravery: 8/10 leader goes first.

Recklessness: 7/10 he isn't reckless in a thrill seeker, 'wonder what will happen' way. he's only ever reckless for a good reason. honest.

Ambition: 3/10 he would have worked his ass off as a Watcher, but that's because he loves what he does. that same day in and out was going to be his next 50+ years before DAV. this score bites him in the ass real hard after.

Loyalty: 7/10 kind of like compassion, he's ride or die hardcore, but that ride might stop real quick depending on where you're going lol. sasha will do what he needs to do when the time comes; 'whatever it takes' could have been fitting even if it wasn't from game canon. if that means going against someone he knows or cares about, so be it. that doesn't mean he won't desperately try up until the very last second to stop it from going that far, though.

Love: 6/10? 7? 8? this is such a vague word i can't decide what im supposed to be rating. he has a lot of love to give. he's not as good at giving it because he's more accustomed to holding back, but that can change when he is given the space and reassurance to act more freely. romantically, uhhh. 9/10 for the level of bullshit he will put up with in the name of love, let's put it that way lol.

Sense of family: 3/10 it was higher as a kid, 5 or 6, but becoming an Adult was a very lonely experience and made him feel like he 'lost' what tiny sense of family he did have. his mom is the only person he would think about and want to be with growing up, so he never really care about the specific idea of being a 'family'.

Agility: 7/10 he can do what he needs to do, with a little extra. being the thing on the battlefield that you want everyone to beat on requires none, but it can be useful irl.

Sex drive: 10/10 when there's dick easily available, can keep it at a 8/10 when there isn't. sometimes you have to make sacrifices as a leader 😔 bro fucks. both for recreation and misguided personal/emotional validation.

[beetlejuce]

now I’m really fucking pissed. not only does this bitch think it’d be funny to draw porn of my friend and the guy I like, L, in a doggy style position, entire gaping bussy out with hentai dialogue text about how badly he wants me to fuck him. mentioning me by name. and send it to me thinking I’d enjoy it because I’ve made some coy little jokes about him having a twinkle in his eyes. then you, gall and all, just HAD to ask “wait fr????” when I rightfully called your ass out on it immediately, as if it isn’t common fucking sense to not draw one of my friends in sex positions?

but she’s eyeing him even more now. and had the audacity, the fucking NERVE to go “I don’t know what you even want me to say 🥺🥺🥺” when I confronted her about the porn, and said I’ve been feeling uncomfortable around L all week because of what SHE did. then she deflected the blame. I want you to pour sulfuric acid over your hands, cunt.

like I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this all week. every time I’ve approached L in class I’ve been carrying this subconscious guilt of having witnessed the drawing of him that she sent me. I DIDN’T EVEN CONSENT TO SEEING THAT. how immature can you be. playing it off as a joke bitch I’d love to see you try and get between him and I you look like a tarred and feathered cabbage patch kid AND you believe it to be true.. every passing day I feel more and more like a goddamn supermodel. I’m so saddened because I really do care about him. I feel like it’s caused a rift in our (me and L’s) friendship even though nothing has actually happened between us, because I had to see him depicted in such an explicit manner by my friend. who I realize might wanna go between us. why does this keep happening what the fuck, should I just never mention who I’m interested in to anyone else again?

I’ve been feeling awkward around him for no reason. which SHOULDN’T be a thing, because while I do have feelings for him, we’re friends, and enjoy each other’s company. but I feel so dirty, like I’m hiding some horrible secret from him. fucking SUCKS for me because I’m someone who wears my emotions on my sleeve, for better or worse.

will admit that feels hypocritical to feel this way about my irl friends and talk openly about liking rpf fic on my blog. maybe there’s a deeper conversation to be had, but all in all, I personally feel uncomfortable and sick and frankly? disturbed over having seen my friend treated like a little doll by someone who I thought was my friend. but then again I know she doesn’t even see the guy she’s into (or one of them, get the fuck out my way) as a human being. you’re not in love with him, you tremble at the thought of even saying hi to him, you fucking wimp. maybe stop obsessively gooning until your eyes pop out to the thought of pegging him and ask him about his day.

but I know she’s a fucking PUSSY and won’t ever dare to approach L even though she fucking JINXED me this week. we ended on a slightly awkward note and I fully blame her for it. she’s a small and pathetic coward who couldn’t ask for extra bbq sauce at mcdonalds even if her life was on the line.

now I realize I type JUST like greg heffley wow

[word-wytch]

My thoughts on Flight of Icarus (so far!)

I finally got my hands on the book yesterday and also had time to read which hasn’t happened in a very hot minute.

These are just my first impressions, commentary, and takeaways from chapters 1-9.

More will come, but I am realizing that I have so much to say that I need to break it up ✨

I will start off by saying that I was skeptical, as all of us were, when this book was announced. Prior to reading it, I had been steering clear of spoilers and others’ reactions just so that I could go in completely unbiased and with an open mind and heart.

Within the first 10 pages, I was crying. Like, openly weeping. Something about Eddie talking first person about his childhood experiences and confirming what so many of us suspected hit me so suddenly. I was not prepared for the swell of emotions that bubbled over as a result of not only that, but reading his name printed on a real, hard bound book when I've only ever read it from a screen was something else as well. Something about it being officially licensed by ST and providing us with some concrete backstory (if we choose to take it) for so many things that we've been only speculating on for the last year and a half.

These are a few snippets that really had me going:

Anyway, I'm broken.

Onto the writing --

I genuinely think what I've read so far has been incredibly well-written. The first person narration sounds so much like Eddie, as does the dialogue. The insights and ways he describes things cleverly but also with that touch of dark humor that he deflects with so often is very present. I do feel like I'm stepping into his curly noggin and viewing the world through his bambi eyes. It's such a treat.

Also, I have noticed her using many words that he frequently uses in his limited dialogue on the show in her narration, the main one I can think of right now being "not exactly". It's touches like these that let me know how closely she's paying attention.

I am also impressed with the general quality of prose, how she seamlessly integrates setting and character description into the scene. Also clever and creative ways to describe objects that still stay very in character. This one stands out:

Also this. This hyper-awareness that his home life is different than his peers, something I try to illustrate in my own writing and appreciate that this author did as well:

As a writer, I learn so much from reading. I can honestly say that I am learning from this experience as well, and dare I say it, am inspired.

The chapter I am working on now for DSSCTM deals heavily with similar themes and questions that FOI covers, such as Eddie's motivations for staying in school, his relationship to his dad, and how he views himself. So I feel a lucky sense of coincidence that this book was released during the time I am writing it. I, like everyone else, invented my own backstory for his parents that suited the story I was trying to tell and will keep it for consistency going forward.

Characters that stuck out to me --

Gareth -- OH. MY GOD. BABY GARETH. Little fluffy ball of rage. I cannot. My heart is going to explode fr. Also the tenderness with which Eddie handles him is just too much for me.

Ronnie -- Stan her. You know, this character really makes me wonder how much of our fics the author has read because I feel like it is one of the most common and earliest tropes for our Reader characters to be best friends of his that grew up in the trailer park along side him. Maybe it's just an obvious trope? But interesting she included it. Also making her the book-smart one who's got a golden ticket out is another very common thing I see in our stories.

Chrissy -- I love the bit of backstory I've read so far and how sympathetic she writes her. I love that we get the whole scene of them before the talent show and them bonding for a short moment.

Al -- There aren't enough words for how big a piece of shit this man is. When he said this to Wayne I almost yeeted my book across the room. Nobody talks to Wayne Munson like this in my house. 😤

Paige -- Eh. Not sold tbh. Although I do appreciate reading through Eddie's first person narration about him having a crush on someone though. It's cute. Just the crush part, not Paige specifically. She's mid so far.

Principal Higgins -- I had to suspend my disbelief a bit for how strong he came on tbh. I mean, I think she made a somewhat believable case for his absolutely unhinged behavior but it still struck me as borderline unbelievable how Higgins spoke to Eddie like that. What it did confirm for me was something I had suspected from the beginning, which is that Eddie's dad never graduated high school. Also, I appreciate the question being asked about why he is still in school BUT my issue is that this question isn't as applicable in his first senior year as it is in his third. I think the author was trying to find a reason for Higgins to be asking it and had to dig a little to try and make it believable. It's a question I have asked myself, one that I had Teach ask him in the first chapter of DSSCTM, and one I will be exploring in ch. 16.

One final theme-related thing I noticed and appreciate:

How chapter 4 ends with his dad telling him to sleep on the idea of pulling off a heist with him and chapter 5 begins with "The question is pretty simple. At the end of the day, who do you want to be?" and proceeds to a scene of him building a character with Gareth. Likewise in real life, Eddie is figuring out who he wants to be, and I think using this as a metaphor is really clever and beautiful.

ALSO. A theory. Illian died right? Illian wasn't Gareth's he was Jeff's. What if this is alluding to the possibility of another character we all know and love who supposedly died in canon to be able to come back and re-invent themselves? 👀

Could just be my delusional ass reading into this way too much but it was just a thought I had.

Anyway, onward. ✨

[troofless]

just rewatched yoi bc of medalist and god the animation was so bad lmao

yuuri has the plainest face ever lmao i do like his black and blue colour scheme a lot

yuuri being the unreliable narrator is still good (it's never explicitly stated but the subtext is there; he is very much the no1 skater in jp)

victor is a more nuanced character than i remember and i enjoy the subtle hints at his personality and the ep where he finally gets a POV is really nice

otabek felt super shoehorned in lmao

yurio still stole the entire show he is the best his yell when he thinks about jj when he skates his free for the first time is amazing

after watching medalist i can say, yeah this show is not about skating... it's a show about romance

the animations are so dogshit and yet it still won best animation of the year and that will never fail to crack me up

i cannot watch the gay ass stammi vicino pair skating at the end they are so sugar sweet my gut reaction is literally yurio fr

the unreliable narrator reveal in the dance battle ending ep is still the best thing ever

still remember everyone losing their minds when the kiss and golden ring ep aired (i didn't follow the show until the very last ep or so iirc)

is it dumb for me to want victor to return next season and win the gold medal effortlessly, i want to see everyone hate him for that

victor is always a delight to watch every time he shows up bc you're not supposed to know what he's thinking and you're just guessing at his intentions against yuuri

meanwhile victor is actually super rude and blunt (and speaks it with a smile too) and constantly does whatever he wants ("i'm sorry for not listening to you in this instance but i have to go" "you've never listened to me once in your entire life mf" never fails to crack me up he's so fucking funny)

like victor without the rose coloured lenses yuuri puts him under is so interesting, unlike yuuri he's friends with all the skaters (his scenes w chris are so good), keeps his thoughts hidden and deflects important questions at interview ("oh look guys its yurio" moment), is shit at coaching (lmao), has no idea how to help yuuri out of his mental state that he's like fuck it i'm going to push him off the table like a glass and make him shatter i hope that works ha ha

and then yuuri is like "just shut up and stay by my side that's all i need bitch" and victor realises how much he fucked up

also the crying sakuga lol

doesn't it stab you in the heart watching yuuri try to break up with him and he's just crying while saying lighthearted words

honestly it's kinda subtext that victor is never going to go back to skating but i do wish his backstory had been expanded more than just "i've been dedicating all of my life to skating and i suddenly realised i want a break to explore the other things i want in life"

i also wish there was more expansion on their love for ice skating itself... :( like medalist it's so clear cut but meanwhile the love for the sport kinda takes a backseat in favour of the romance

anyway i feel like they could have really cut out some of the other challenger's ice skating portions, like nobody give a shit about anyone outside of yuuri and yurio anyway, keep phichit in, kill jj, chris can get some of a short or free program in

overall its so clear animations were reused everywhere and the animation was not very good but the story and comedy were good for its time.... anyway mob psycho should probably have won that year right? heh

oh yeah and uh RIP to ice adolescence lol like what the fuck man i want to see more of victor skating

[cinamun]

I’m not saying Rahul was right in any way with his actions because choices were definitely made and not good ones nor safe ones. BUT his words were loud and fr kinda correct. Now idk how Dira felt about him prior to this whole debacle aside from him being her friend so I can’t speak to him trying to insinuate she has deep feelings for him. What I can say though is, does Dira know any of Ryker’s interests? If her were to ask what’s his favorite color, would she know? We haven’t seen much interaction between them so who’s to say but judging from how she deflected that question…this will definitely serve as a huge eye opener for her but I’m curious to see will she realize she really doesn’t like Ryker or any of the other guys she allows to chase after her (kinda like we saw with Indya…I definitely see the parallel between the two just less extreme with Dira. Darren wasn’t always the nicest guy and did some crazy fucked up shit too.) or will she realize that she does want to be with Ryker because she likes him for him and needs to put in the effort to get to know him better. Will Ryker be patient and want to pick up the pieces that Rah caused to fall out of place or will he do the whole “I’m not the one that hurt you so why are you punishing me for it”? And how would Dira react to that especially after all this?

Okay fam because the monologue was MONOLOGUING!!! The problem is, at no point was she obligated to answer given the circumstances.

*takes the lemon pepper wings out*

So, basically, I think he had a genuine and valid line of questioning.

And the one about interests I think is fair; when she started coming around the A/V club, I think their friendship was starting to blossom and even become flirty and Rahul was glowing n shit like that lmfao.

I think if she left him on read for Ryker, he's owed an explanation.

HOWEVER!!!!!

Not, and I repeat, NOT under the circumstances he chose!

[worldformula]

complicated relationship with Aymeric you say 👀 I would love to hear about it

also do you have a blank version or link to the blank version of that “characters who are just like my WOL fr” chart it intrigues ms greatly. I love that it’s specific about what exactly the inspiration from the characters is.

Here’s a link to the .psd because the framing layers makes it a bit hard to use as a regular png. Go nuts!

As for Aymeric…

Long story short, they never fostered an actual real relationship before just getting in the nitty gritty of intimacy because it is my religious belief that Aymeric is deeply repressed like a Catholic maiden and Utushama kept just leaving for MSQ immediately the day after they’d fool around. Utushama assumed they were on the same page (this wouldn’t work because they have conflicting responsibilities) (this is also kind of an excuse, he’s starting to develop a pattern of starting something, ditching ASAP, and then using MSQ as a noble excuse) but they weren’t really. I love to pretend Lucia is mad at him for this because it made Endwalker kind of funny. Usual spoiler warning for everything ahead!

Short story long, after the Dragonsong War’s end, they kept things entirely professional including their dinner and dealing w the aftermath of it all but were slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) building a tension between them like it was a Victorian period drama. Like, a show of ankle would give Aymeric a heart attack at this point. So they had two days of building up to this that no one in the world could’ve possibly guessed was any kind of build up to anything followed by one night of Halone-dishonoring acts (initiated by Utushama because why not. Why not hit and run the beautiful President of Dragon Catholics City after you saved them all. Especially after increasingly escalating moments of barely repressed interest). And immediately after, without explanation or any warning, Utushama left for MSQ, with the assumption that they were both in agreement that they couldn’t have an actual relationship because one of them loves their country more than anything else in the world and the other is a traveling adventurer. He didn’t say this because it was so obvious to him but Aymeric was obviously left a little confused and feeling slightly abandoned but bigger things at stake, y’know.

And then they meet again when Ala Mhigo is liberated because all the Eorzean Alliance leaders are there and Utushama is feeling very disoriented and bad because Zenos just killed himself in front of him, denying him of any closure to the distress he’s been feeling for all of Stormblood. And they are once again very professional as if they hadn’t explored each other’s bodies that one time. Aymeric invites him to dinner again and when the subject of trying to define their relationship is brought up, Utushama deflects by hitting him point-blank with the “ok, do you want to do that again” and Aymeric is flustered enough by this that despite being a very savvy politician, the Catholic maiden part of him overrides the many slightly orange flags. Once again, Utushama slips away without warning immediately after.

They don’t speak again until right after the Ghimlyt Dark, wherein canon provided me a lovely moment of quiet between the two of them. Utushama, being injured, is then unable to escape from this conversation that Aymeric begins, wherein Aymeric himself first confesses to hoping to be something more serious, to which Utushama answers in a manner that is between bafflement and regret that they weren’t ever going to be a thing (because again, he thought they were on the same page about this). Aymeric is sad but can see the logic in this and admits that Utushama deserves someone who cares more about him than their political responsibilities, who could and would follow him to the ends of the earth. (There is no reason for him to be so self-deprecating on the matter because it’s not as if he were the one at fault for this, but Utushama just has a way of making people feel bad for wanting reasonable things from him. It’s kind of cruel of him but he also is entirely unaware that he’s doing this.) This is a fun bit of foreshadowing for me personally because this could mean anyone but should the monkey’s paw curl, that sure does describe a certain horrible prince he despises. But after accidentally doing all that to Aymeric, maybe he does deserve to be tormented. Just a little. I’ve been following a sort of narrative path wherein anyone who likes Utushama for being a hero figure can’t actually get with him for good because they’re enabling his bad habits and it’s going to end badly.

Anyway, all this made the Endwalker casting quests very fun because they just kind of josh around lightly and even reference their old fling without it being a whole thing and it feels like the weight of whatever they were doing is off Aymeric now so he’s able to be confident and normal again. If they ever fool around again post-Endwalker, it’s noticeably different because Aymeric has moved past the whole blushing maiden for the hero role. Utushama is admittedly kind of. Strangely sad to see him move past him but by then knows that it was probably for the best. It’s just hard for him to even metaphorically feel like he’s the one being left behind. And Lucia is no longer mad at him but it’s really funny to let him keep thinking she is!

So yeah, his relationship with Aymeric is kind of tangled and convoluted and despite indulging once or twice, he doesn’t actually seem to like talking about it beyond whatever’s professional because he’s just very private. I’ve no idea what the general consensus is on Aymeric and Estinien’s relationship but I imagine it was much more straightforward than this. Utushama inadvertently projects and assumes it was just as complicated based on the way Estinien talks about Aymeric in MSQ tidbits but I think it’s funnier if it was actually relatively tame and Estinien is just being dramatic.

[bethrnoora]

can you tell us anymore about this julian fella. i want the deetz on this twisted fucking cyclepath

oh man i would love to talk about my little freak. or what i know about him so far i guess.

basically the idea is he's some kind of systems/industrial engineer with a weird relationship with the idea of The Machine as God and the use of weapons and heavy machinery in the way an artist uses paint or clay. idk it's kind of a vague idea there for now but it's part of why it kind of lends him to be an oc for use in the saw universe, he just loves the mechanical minutiae of designing death traps and new ways to watch someone's extremities get removed.

i think part of it is he's a sort of former prodigious student who couldn't make up his mind about what he wanted to Do so got really into reading about art and religion and medieval history throughout his life. so he looks at old depictions of saints suffering and postmodern art and historical torture devices and goes wow. she is JUST like me fr. possibly he grew up in a kind of religious household too but at present doesnt actually consider himself religious outside of Hey Maybe God Is In The Numbers. ("elaborate on that?" "no <3") he also likes being the Smartest Person In The Room and will kind of start deflecting and being very glib if he feels challenged in that sphere.

what else what else. i think if he hadnt gone into engineering he probably WOULD have been an artist. he occasionally entertains the idea of combining those two things into some kind of performance art thing but that's also the sort of fantasy that helping design and construct murder machines tends to be a bit of catharsis for. idk how old he is. late 30s to mid 40s maybe. i don't really know why he does what he does, i think it's largely morbid curiosity and general discontentment with modern life. and no true desire to improve himself as a person so he lowkey takes his boredom out on other people as part of his "artistic" pursuits. lmao