#that's the beauty of jiu jitsu: just being strong only gets you so far. I was WAAAAAY more flexible than 75% of the dude bros there

[forgetful-river]

if you're doing drawing rqs atm, i'd love to see your take on nepeta in this outfit, if that's alright with you!

I do requests whenever the stars align and I already like drawing the character, so yeah, technically!

This is a woman who kicks your ass for an hour at your boxing class but then is so cool about it you feel bad for being upset

[danielletinybruiser]

The Good Fight New York/New Jersey Open 7/31/21

I competed yesterday! And I actually feel really good about it! I'm a writer, so, writing about my experiences helps me really grasp them and process them and such, so, here goes! 

And also: as always, when I compete, it's in basically no-stakes tournaments for anybody. I'm not going to big competitions, I'm just doing this as a hobby and going to light fires under my butt and test my skills as they are in the moment. So, I take it seriously, but I don't go into this with delusions of grandeur! I do not think I am the next Danielle Kelly.

(Content warning for weight here, I talk about it a fair bit!)

I think I prepared pretty well this time around! I trained *a lot* and took conditioning very seriously. I also had a funny thing with weight: since getting my (cough, cough, under my breath) Peleton - I've been riding a lot and running a ton using the app. I sure thought I was being a genius doing frequent two-a-day cardio workouts, thinking "oh yeah, I'll be 125 no problem." Instead, obviously, I gained some muscle weight from doing tons of high intensity interval workouts. It's a good thing! I'm so much stronger than I was, walking now at 134-137, and my cardio is very solid. But it did mean having to be very conscious of weight to ensure I came in at 135 on Saturday.

Again, this should actually be ideal for this level of competition (read: LOW), because it means my walking weight and competition weight are super nice and close (I used to be around 126-129 and still competed at 135, thanks to the other major tournament I do having nothing between 120 and 135), and I feel so much more durable.

An action shot! Thanks for reading so far! Lol

So, I was strict with my diet for the last month (I usually am, this just meant no cheat days for a couple of weeks, really), and did weigh-ins periodically, then every day in the last week. It also meant doing a little bit of math and knowing exactly what kind of food I could have in the morning, and what was safe to do in terms of sweating just in case. It was good to know, because that came in handy!

Yesterday morning, I woke up at 136.2 (you get a 1lb allowance, so I was only .2 over). I did a shorty 15 minute HIIT workout so I could have a tiny bit of food and fluid, being very careful to not dehydrate or do anything stupid. I'm not going to cut weight for this, lol, but it would be truly ridiculous for me, at my height (5'5") and body composition (muscular, but not JACKED), to have to go in at 145 for being, you know, .2 over.

The nice side effect of a short workout in the morning was helping my nerves a little bit (they were BAD), so at least that helped me breathe. I don't know if I've ever been this anxious before competing before, and I'm not sure exactly why — I know there are no stakes besides my pride, there's no money on the line, this isn't my career! This is my hobby, for fuck's sake, so I don't know why my body interpreted "lets compete" as "we are going to WAR and we might DIE," but there it was! I was scared! Brains are stupid!

We got a tiny bit lost on the way, but it was ok because things were running behind at the tournament. No problem at all. I made weight (135.6) and started to warm up. The venue had plenty of extra space on a turf field to warm up, and Viki was a SAINT, not only to drive my nervous ass over, but to help me warm up about six times. I felt better after just drilling and flow rolling a tiny bit.

It was a long wait, but my gi division was up first. I had one opponent at bantamweight, so, a small bracket in gi.

Here's how it goes in a submission-only tournament: you have your brackets, for a full division it's basically semi-finals and finals, with a bronze medal match and the two winners do a gold/silver match. With two, it's best two out of three wins gold, the other person gets silver.

For blue belts, we have eight minute regulation matches. No points, no advantages, no stupid bullshit (sorry, I hate points tournaments). If you both survive eight minutes with no submissions, you go into overtime rounds: a back take, a spiderweb/armbar, and a classic head and arm triangle. For each, the defender needs to escape, and the attacker needs to submit. If you successfully escape, and you successfully submit, you win! If both people escape, or both people submit, you go to the next round, and it repeats as needed (back, armbar, triangle).

It's a great format, imo, and really suits my style: I play defense, I like to wear people down, and then go for it when I see an opportunity. I will play all kinds of wild positions and try to get creative and weird with it, and frankly have fun, and I think submission-only facilitates that!

Still, I was so goddamned nervous.

We started the match and it was ON. My opponent and I were really, really well matched. Size and skill wise, we gave each other a lot of hell. It was rough, too, and I have all the bruises on my face to prove it! But I was having fun. A lot of fun.

Overtime action shot!

Our match went through regulation, to overtime. I escaped her back take, but her coaches fought with the ref a little. I offered to do it again, because, hey, I want to do it better. This may have been stupid of me, but I also, like... the reason I like sub-only so much is that I hate stupid technicalities and bullshit. So I offered to go again and did! And I escaped pretty well. On my turn to attack, I submitted her.

I honestly couldn't believe I won a match in gi. The last time I got a gold medal in gi, it was because I went to the 30+ division, and my opponent was 53. I was happy to win that day, but like... c'mon. I was 35 at the time. In sub-only, women don't have age categories, and I believe my opponent was maybe a bit younger than me, but probably not far from my age, and tough as hell. She was my size, we were well-matched in strength. And she BROUGHT IT.

I remember that going through my head, like "you can win in gi???" I could hardly believe it. I got my hand raised IN GI.

This felt great, and I was basically in shock.

(I won't belabor this, but I hate the gi. I think I'm terrible in it. Tuesday night - my last hard training day before competition, I did ok, but felt demoralized. I almost cried after training and told Viki that night "I don't think I'm going to compete in gi" and thought about pulling my registration. This is why I couldn't believe it, lol).

We had a short break and went again. Again, we did the full regulation match - she had an armbar at one point that I escaped, and I did have a last second back take and choke attempt, but I ran out of time. We went to overtime, I escaped her back take... and I remember, in the moment, getting ready for my turn to attack: "this is probably for a medal. IN GI. You are this close!" and I cinched it with a submission. I got my hand raised again. I thanked her and her coaches, and even chatted with them a little.

We went to the podium - another woman congratulated me on the match, saying she watched it and love dit. The podium worker said the same, and I was flattered. Kirsten (my opponent, who again, was fucking AWESOME and tough) and I did the podium thing, getting our medals and taking pictures.

Podium action shot!

Then, it was off to watch my teammate Ollie compete and kick ass,  and then get changed for no-gi, where I absolutely knew Kirsten was going to come for blood, lol.

It still didn't feel real: a gold medal? Me? Danielle? Gi-hating Danielle who almost cried after just training in a gi on Tuesday night (again, nothing went wrong, lol, my training partners are incredibly conscientious and were preparing me!) - I let myself wear the medal for a couple of minutes before putting it in the backpack.

Even now, just about 24 hours later, it doesn't feel completely real. I swear, I only even compete in the gi because it's just five bucks more to do both divisions, and you may as well get all the rolls you can on a day you are showing up.

There was a pretty big time gap between gi and no gi, but I was honestly a little nervous again. They put a (fantastic) purple belt (that's the next skill level up if you aren't familiar with jiu jitsu, and a pretty huge gap for me, being honest) in our division, and I faced her first. There was really no pressure at all here, I do not expect to win against a purple belt. I feel — very honestly — that I have a very, very long way to go in blue. Based on how the day went, I do feel like I'm on my way, and making real improvements — But I'm no where near purple.

I survived about five minutes of an eight minute regulation period, and did survive a pretty intense back take at first, but she got me with a second back take and rear naked choke/crank. All the power to her!

Then, the bronze medal match was between me and Kirsten again (who I faced in gi). Holy shit, this was a doozy. We fought really, really hard in regulation. I know she wanted it BADLY after gi, and I could tell she had serious wrestling and probably Judo as well in her background. She tossed my ass around! It was rough and it was tough, and my face is a little fucked up today, not going to lie. But I loved it, and loved rolling with her — she had such good pressure, and beautiful knee cuts, and she was strong and fast and athletic.

We went through regulation, to the first overtime. I won the "rock paper scissors" to determine who went first and I took her back... and she escaped. She did her back attack, and I escaped. 

At this point, I was TIRED. Not no much cardio-tired (I have myself conditioned pretty well), but... "I want to lie down and sleep" tired. But I got her in the armbar position for the second round, squeezed... and got the tap! Again, I thought "you are this close to a medal!" and defended the second round armbar well.. I really, really thought I was out, but in the last possible instant she just NAILED IT and got my arm back and I had to tap. It was fantastic, she did well to grab it back.

So, we went to a third round of overtime. Triangle. I had her in, squeezed, cut the angle... and got the tap! Yes! Now, I really knew I was close. I tapped her, all I needed to do was escape her triangle and I'd have a bronze in no-gi. I wanted it. I really wanted it!

I got into her triangle. It was tight right away (which it should be!), I *thought* I had stacked her in the correct position to escape, I thought I could do it...

And then... I remember dreaming. I started coming to, thinking I was asleep in my bed, and that i was dreaming about competition. I started to become conscious, and I heard her say "I think she's out!" and saw her face and the ref's face. It took me a few moments, but I realized where I was, and that I had passed out completely. She sank a PERFECT blood choke on me. Absolutely picture perfect.

I sort of kept saying, in my confusion "I'm ok! I'm ok!" and shook her hand and kind of stumbled off the mat.

Me, laughing in utter confusion after taking a nice nap on the mat (my opponent was really nice about it!)

Later on, I realized: we were actually supposed to go to a fourth overtime round! We both submitted to a triangle (if you lose consciousness, that counts as a tap!), and I believe the ref was actually asking me if I wanted to continue. Hand to heart, I'm not trying to save face, I just didn't realize it at all, in my complete confusion. I accidentally forfeited by walking off, lol. I seriously had no idea, and honestly, it was probably better that I didn't try to do another round THAT confused.

But still, that is absolutely going to be something I kick myself about, for forever. Just being THAT CLOSE.

By the way, I will say: it was the second time losing consciousness in jiu jitsu (and the first time... I'm not sure I was all the way out, this time I absolutely was) — it doesn't hurt. I'm not saying it's pleasant or great, exactly, it's very, very disorienting, because you actually start to dream a bit and have NO IDEA where you are for a few. But I would rather that than a broken arm or a torn ACL, so, as things happen on the mat, really not a terrible experience.

Kirsten deserves all the respect in the world — she put me out, and FAST (I had no idea how fast until Viki told me, lol. I sure thought I was fighting it for much longer!). She was wonderful to compete with, and I felt we were very evenly matched and got the best out of one another. I chatted with her afterward and we both complimented one another.

Overall, I'm proud of how hard I fought. I know that, in competition, I have absolutely defeated my self before, and gotten so discouraged. It's never conscious, I will always push, I will always mechanically force myself to get back up and get back out. Always. But mentally, in the past, I've really fucked myself.

Yesterday, I vowed to stay patient, and I actually did. I stuck to a gameplan fully: patience, defense, attacking whenever I saw or felt an opportunity. I actually feel, for the first time, that I did my best out there, the best I can do with my jiu jitsu right now, at 4.5 years of training, as a blue belt with one stripe.

That is a wildly unfamiliar feeling. Every other time I've competed, I've come out with at least a few things that were "holy christ, I am terrible at X and need to work on Y." The only other slight exception was the sub only tournament I got my first-ever medals at (silver in both) where I legitimately shocked myself. Even then, I had a couple of specific things I needed to work on (ankle lock defense! I still think about it!)

I'm a little bit beat up today (that armbar I thought I was out of, then got caught right at the last second? I tapped on time, but "on time" with adrenaline is "a tiny bit late" so it hurts like hell today), and will probably just do cardio for a few days to take time to heal up before going back to grappling. But I feel really proud. I feel good about it. I feel stupid as hell for accidentally forfeiting, but overall very pleased with the day.

Where do I go from here? Rubber guard, baby! I want to get *great* at rubber guard. And this has given me a huge boost to keep chipping away at gi, no matter how much I may hate it in the moment. Because I won yesterday, I do get a free invitation to the submission only worlds for this tournament, so, that's something I can think about...

But for now... I'm going to try and let the good parts sink in. Viki got me victory pizza last night, and holy shit, I don't know if anything has ever tasted so good :D

[myriadnarratives]

Netflix’s Shadow and Bone: My Fangirling Thought-dump

Fair Warning: I’m a darklina, so leave now if you’re not going to be decent (I don’t bash on Mal, though, so you’re safe there)

So I binged Shadow and Bone without reading the books (judgmental people, leave now), and let me tell you, I love the show. True, there were some things I wish were different based on what I’ve been spoiled on about the books, but as a show in and of itself, it’s strong.

So here’s just a dump of my thoughts and fangirling (I use *chef’s kiss* a lot). And obviously, spoilers ahead.

***SPOILERS AHEAD***

WHAT I LOVED

- The storytelling, both narrative and visual, is exquisite. How the dialogue contributes to the storytelling, answering the audience’s questions and doubts clearly even before they’re brought up; how the visual arrangement contributes to informing the audience of what they need to know and how that timeline of knowing helps the audience in piecing together the story, the characterization, and the timeline; the tying in of characters’ storylines so audiences are not confused as to why we’re spending so much time watching the goings-on with a character. *super chef’s kiss*

The show is so organically unified in terms of characterization, visual media, dialogue contribution, and so much more that I just, uh, I cannot even! I LOVE THE ART OF IT!

- How the show dealt with race, identity, prejudice, politics, social acceptance, individual needs, personal wants, the desire for security and safety that mean differently for each character *raises both hands to the heavens in thanks* The show’s concepts hit close to home for me in terms of race, prejudice, mixed biological identity that informs social perceptions, the desire for belonging and safety and acceptance, and I think this show would hold a special place in my heart for its portrayal of these issues.

- How different sexualities and genders are portrayed so casually, as if it’s an everyday normal thing (as it should be).

- The Crows (of course) and how their story intersected with Alina’s, and how the storytelling (I’ll keep going on about the visual storytelling until I run out of breath) shows the intersections and develops the diverging stories to meld into each other

- How they showed how brilliant Kaz’s mind is. The visual storytelling of showing one scene without explanation, leading the audience to create their own assumptions on what Kaz was seeing, then having the scene turn out different once it has been explained later when things have unfolded *chef’s kiss*: the meeting between the Conductor and the First Army General, the hidden changing room, the lynx flush assignments 

- How Inej’s faith is portrayed neither negatively or positively; it’s just a thing that is not contrived but contributes to the plot, not some sort of moral policing inside or outside of the story.

- Mal! I heard he’s a jerk in the books, that’s why I didn’t want to read the books before watching the show. But god, his first scenes with the sparring, and the way Archie moved in that fight. Also how Mal’s overall storyline progressed, how his ties to Alina was shown, how his feelings got revealed to the audience even before it got revealed to Alina so the sincerity is not questioned. That True North thing! *heart eyes*

- How the issue of consent in the sexual sense is highlighted as important. The darkling literally asks “Are you sure?” before he proceeds. (Of course, this is very different from his take on non-sexual consent later in the show - like really, you literally put a control button on your hand to control her powers! Dude...)

- The exploration of Alina’s overall consent and agency. They even literally have her say her lack of it when she was in the final episodes. Even Kaz shoves it in the Darkling’s face that she doesn’t want to be a captive anymore. And throughout the show, the thought processes behind her decisions are clearly communicated, giving her agency a lot more weight as the audience can understand and sympathize with her decisions. And she’s not just a “victim” of the story; she pushes the story along with her actions, from her decision to burn the maps so that she could come with Mal, to her childhood decision to cheat the Grisha test, to something as visually simple (yet strongly narrative-affecting) as choosing the left or right path in Baghra’s escape route.

- The exploration of want. What each character wants, how one want like “security” could mean an entirely different thing for each character (i.e. the Darkling’s want of security for the Grisha, Alina’s want of security for herself, Inej’s want of security in the form of freedom, etc.). The show, being well-written, is a smorgasbord of academic analysis. Again, if I haven’t said it yet, I LOVE THE ART OF IT!

- NINA!!! God, I really like how the actress looks! There’s just something about her face that I really, really like. And then there’s Nina’s lines, the delivery, the attitude *chef’s kiss* One caveat though: I wish she wasn’t made to say “Please” when she was hanging off the ice ledge. Even though she had already warmed up to Matthias (and him to her), I would have wanted the scene to be a clash of his pride and her dignity: just like in the ship earlier, her not submitting even to his kindness (sincere or otherwise), and him having a moral crisis on helping a “witch.”

- Genya’s hand-to-hand fight *absolutely beautiful*

- The overall fight choreographies. It’s not just people punching each other and brawling; the jiu-jitsu locks and judo throws hold a special place in my practitioner’s heart, and the fights look really good, either it be for the women (Hello, Genya and Inej) or the men (Mal and Aleksander’s fight looked so different from usual brawls because of the throws).

- How the different Grishas, even the usually non-combat ones, can weaponize their abilities: Healers can, obviously, break bones; Heartrenders can stop your heart; and even the Sun Summoner can blind you.

- Jesper and Milo the goat. “Grab the goat. Hug the goat. Shut the fuck up.” And how Jesper tearfully parted with Milo LOL

- How Alina just climbed right into the get away carriage’s literal trunk. LOL!

- Kaz and the Darkling meeting. I know it’s not in the books (they’re not even in the same trilogy/duology), so having these two characters with so much gravitas meet and actually verbally spar is *chef’s kiss* 

- Inej’s first kill is to save Kaz *heart eyes*

- The Darkling’s humor! “Yes, David?” and “I’ll have to give that speech again” were hilarious!

Of course, there’s many more, generally because of how they contribute to, again, the visual and narrative storytelling and the characterizations and the plot progression and, ugh, I'll stop now or else I'll just keep going on about how much I love how this show was crafted.

NEUTRAL

- I heard that Alina was supposed to be funny in the books, but apart from the “No pressure” and “My tailbone is killing me” lines, there wasn’t really much of that humor in there--most of the humor came from Jesper’s scenes or Mal’s friends. Honestly, I think the show Alina fits the story, so I don’t really care if her humor is not as evident.

WHAT I DIDN’T LIKE

- Gosh, Netflix and the showrunners really know how to market the show. They were right when they said the first step is to cast Ben Barnes. Then the focus on the General/Darkling and Alina’s story and relationship, that sort of dark and brooding archetype getting with the green and pure protagonist, is so delicious. But of course, endgame is not meant to be. The Darkling is a manipulative, controlling, toxic person, and should be nowhere near Alina if not on equal ground. I just wish they didn't put that much focus on it in the marketing (i.e. the extra clips distributed to media sources) to make it seem like darklina could happen, especially with the story changes the show was reportedly doing. Oh well, that’s what fanfiction is for. And I guess there’s a chance for redemption in the following season? *puts on clown nose*

MY QUESTIONS AND...WISHES?

So since the show has changed the story quite a bit from the books, I'm so stoked to see where the characters’ stories lead to. I’m sure there would be similarities to the books (Nikolai and Weylan would show up, for sure), but there would be a lot of changes, I'm sure (Alina’s a Saint now, so how would that affect her life on the run and her relationship with Mal? There’s no great reveal for Aleksander’s name, so perhaps he doesn’t die? At least not that way?).

- I wish we’d see more of that internal/thought connection the Darkling and Alina seemed to have. And I wish they’d highlight further the idea of balancing, of being the only two in the world, and of how each needs/complements the other in terms of power. I just really wish they’d explore more darklina, and perhaps have it open to have a darklina ending (I’m not holding my breath for that one at all, but hey, membership to clownverse is free). At the very least, would there be a change in the Darkling’s ending (does he get stuck in the tree)? Does he get a redemption arc? Would he utter the “I do not repent” line? Would Alina and him have the shared connection, I-can-see-you-even-if-you’re-far-away bond? Would Alina somehow forgive him (hopefully only if he has changed and is not controlling and toxic anymore)? Would Alina and him have a showdown as he tries to expand the fold and she tries to close it? He has command of even the volcra now, so what would that mean for Alina’s side? Does she get an army, too? Maybe there’d be creatures of light, too? Perhaps other animal amplifiers?

- Now that Mal and Alina have more or less confessed to each other and ended up together, what would be the next hurdle in their relationship? They can’t just stay static, after all, otherwise the story of their relationship won’t be a good narrative. Season 1 touched on Mal’s fear of the Grisha (with Alina literally asking him out loud), so perhaps as Alina’s powers grow, Mal’s discomfort with her powers would show more (I hope the show doesn’t make Alina do a Slip-into-the-Darkside trope, or at least not too much to the detriment of her agency and core characterization)? Or perhaps going from that conversation with the Darkling and Mal, when Aleksander seemed to have gotten under Mal’s skin when he pointed out that due to their immortality, Aleks and Alina are endgame: maybe Mal would have that rivalry with the Darkling again and, considering Alina’s kind of psychic bond to Aleks (if they add that in), would feel that Alina might choose the Darkling in the end? I just hope the characters aren’t reduced to stereotypes of 1-girl-2-guys-and-girl-can’t-choose love triangle. Even season 1 explicitly had Alina cut off ties with Mal first (because she mistakenly thought he didn’t want anything to do with her anymore since he’s not replying to her letters) before she went to the Darkling romantically.

- What’s next for the Crows? Would Inej eventually go to Sankta Alina? Perhaps the Ice Court heist is next for the Crows. Nikolai has to show up some time, right? How would that tie in with Alina’s storyline?

I have a lot of other questions on what happens to the characters and the overall story, and I'm really glad that the show has diverged from the books to an extent that a lot of things could be possible. I hope Season 2 does happen, and I hope it’s as good as Season 1, especially since COVID is still happening and filming and filming options are limited. If Season 2 does happen, I hope it gets release soon :P

[ahgaseda]

made of stone || chapter 14

⇥ synopsis : when you return after years apart to pursue a divorce from your husband, Mark, you fall back into a contentious relationship because your partner still refuses to give up his dangerous fighting career...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, descriptions of blood and violence, alcohol or drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Sweat poured down your face and you suddenly dropped to your hands and knees, dry-heaving as your empty stomach punished you for the stress.

Jinyoung shoved a small bin under you, though he knew you wouldn’t produce anything. Jackson appeared a swift moment later and began dousing your face with cold water from the hose.

“Isn’t this too much too soon?” Bambam questioned worriedly.

Jaebum replied, “Gotta get her into shape.”

“Get up,” Jackson ordered sternly, speaking your name with force.

You shook your head, which only made you more nauseous because your head was pounding.

“This is when it gets hard,” Jinyoung reminded softly. “Push through it and remember why you’re doing this.”

Easy for him to say, you thought, but you knew he meant well and his words lingered.

Jackson turned off the hose and tossed it away, crouching down beside you and waiting patiently.

Your arms were trembling uncontrollably and you knew your body was moving past its threshold and landing somewhere into shock. Digging deep, you got back to your feet and slowly put up your fists.

Jackson mirrored your stance and sidestepped next to you, asking, “You quitting?”

“No,” you answered, voice too meek for his taste.

Jinyoung resumed his position behind the bag, holding it steady as the chains fastening it to the ceiling jingled loudly.

Jackson moved closer and yelled, “You gonna let some bitch put you down?”

Hitting the bag with your fist, you shouted, “No!”

Jackson shrugged, unimpressed. “Then show me something!”

You struck the bag with enough force to send Jinyoung off-balance. He hadn’t expected it.

Jackson smacked your ass and cheered, “There she is!”

Dropping your arms, you glanced toward a stoic Mark seated against the far wall and warned out of the corner of your mouth, “You know my husband is over there, right?”

“Pfft, you one of the boys,” Jackson retorted, sticking out his tongue like a misbehaving child that knew he would fully get away with it. “Don’t even flirt with me.”

You chuckled. The brief levity was sorely needed.

The fight would be in two weeks and it went without saying that you were more than rusty. Firstly, you had never fought in an organized event, legal or illegal. Your training stemmed from self-defense courses, a few jiu jitsu lessons, and scrapping on the street in your adolescent years. Obviously, none of those lended themselves to a career in underground fighting.

Still, you knew you were more than capable of handling the business at hand and no matter what, you had to insert yourself into this world and find the Achilles heel.

Fortunately for you, Jackson was the world’s best personal trainer. He liked to taunt and encourage... very loudly. He knew exactly how to push at your buttons to get the desired result and he was just what you needed with such a short window of preparation.

“I’m trying, Jackson,” you huffed, propping your hands on your thighs and taking a few steadying breaths after another sequence of drills.

Jackson folded his arms and crowded into your space, barking, “You gon’ let some bastard disrespect you?”

That lit a fire under your ass like nothing else. Images of Mark being bum rushed by Jong-Kook’s men made your blood boil. “Never,” you hissed.

Jinyoung braced against the bag as you pounded a combo of hits against the surface with renewed vigor. Each collision rang out in the empty gym.

All the boys were in attendance, of course. They had made comments about getting a workout in, but you knew they were here to watch you and decide if you had a fighting chance in hell.

Jackson was relentless, moving you from station to station as soon as you began to settle. Fortunately for him, you had a lot of trust (and affection) where he was concerned. Or else you probably would have clocked him by now.

Approaching Jaebum, who pulled on mitts over his hands, you took your stance and prepared for Jackson’s new set of demands.

“Start off with three hit combos,” Jackson instructed. “But alternate each time. Right-left-right, then left-right-left.”

You did as told, saying nothing. Jaebum kept the mitts raised, but you knew as you picked up speed he would start lifting and lowering them to sharpen your reflexes.

“Come on,” Jackson urged, snapping his fingers at you, because your strikes were too slow and timid. “Pick it up!”

You were tired and hungry, both of which contributed to you becoming very crabby. Grumbling, you snipped, “I’m hitting them, aren’t I?”

“Damn, where’s the enthusiasm?” Jackson exclaimed, glancing between you and your gloved hands pounding the mitts. “I hope you don’t suck your man’s dick with that energy.”

Yugyeom spat out a mouthful of water, nearly choking as Bambam tumbled off of his stool with laughter.

Even in your irritable, cranky haze, you snickered and just like that, the morale lifted again.

“Give me one more,” Jackson ordered ten minutes later.

Rising from another squat, you whined, “You said one more ten reps ago!”

Jackson replied, “I know you got more in them thighs.”

“I will crush your head like a walnut between these thighs when I’m done,” you threatened, moisture rolling down your neck.

Jackson taunted, “Do I need to get a whistle?”

Still rising and falling with the weighted bar across your shoulders, your leg muscles were screaming and your temper flared. “If you… get a whistle,” you growled between reps. “I will shove it… up your ass.”

Jackson predictably grinned from ear to ear. As long as you had that fire, he knew you weren’t at your limit.

Across the room, Jinyoung tentatively approached Mark, saying, “Should I even bother asking how you’re doing?”

“I’m not the one that has almost passed out three times,” Mark chuffed.

Jinyoung sighed. “Maybe you should go for a walk.”

“Jinyoung…” Mark warned sternly.

“We gotta feed her soon,” Jinyoung added, softening his tone. “Grab us some lunch. Please?”

Mark exhaled heavily, but he couldn’t argue with that. Rising, he nodded and shuffled through the door, making sure it slammed to a close behind him.

“I didn't think I was this out of shape,” you told Jackson, putting your hands on your waist and stretching as your relentless trainer gave you a well-earned, albeit short respite.

Jackson smarted, “Not getting laid for two years will do that.”

“Ha. Ha,” you deadpanned, glaring.

The door slammed closed in Mark’s wake as he left and you lingered your eyes where he had been. Waiting for the sound to stop echoing off of the stone walls, you whispered, “He still won’t speak to me.”

Jackson lifted a brow at your admission, but he was not the least surprised. “Can you blame him?”

Hanging your head, you eventually said, “No.”

“You left him for two years, because he fought. What will you do if he leaves?”

Somber, you blinked at the threat of tears. “At least he will be safe,” you murmured.

Jackson simpered and patted your back in comfort. Blood be damned, Mark was his brother and Jackson would fuck anyone up who dared say otherwise. Which was why he supported you with everything he had and could give. Both of you wanted to protect Mark, including from himself.

“Alright, he’s gone,” Jinyoung announced, having been watching your husband clear the parking lot.

The boys flocked around you and your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Tell them,” Jackson said, arms folding tightly across his chest.

Realizing what he meant, you groaned, “Jacks…”

“They need to know,” Jackson insisted.

A silence fell over the room and dread hung in the air. He wasn’t wrong; the others deserved to know what they were getting into with you.

Wringing your fingers, you said, “I owe Jong-Kook five fights.”

It seemed like a simple statement, but Jackson wouldn’t have gathered everyone together for that. Wary, Jinyoung prompted. “And?”

“I must win the first four.”

“Fuck me,” Jaebum groaned, running a hand down his face and turning away.

“And the fifth?” Jinyoung pressed. You had never seen him so angry, but he couldn’t believe you had done this.

Defeated, your reply was almost inaudible, “You already know.”

“Say it,” Jackson barked.

“I take a dive.”

Jinyoung grit his teeth. “Concussion, fractured skull, brain bleed...”

“You can’t tap out in shit like that,” Jaebum cut to the chase, his lips in a taut line. “They will only settle for a knockout.”

“I am aware of that,” you stated levelly.

Jinyoung insisted, “You can’t do this.”

You planted your feet and asserted, “I have to. Jong-Kook wants to make an example of Mark. And if Mark says anything, he would be talking himself into the Harbor. People don’t give a shit when kids like us go missing. You all know that.”

Silence returned, and it was grim.

“We’ll figure something out,” Jaebum spoke after a pause, somber. “You just focus on not getting hit.”

You nodded, wanting to thank him, but too on the verge of tears to say the words. One by one, the boys dispersed, the laughter and joking having all but vanished.

Only Jackson stayed at your side and once the others were out of earshot, he whispered, “Your biggest fear has always been Mark taking a hit so hard he never gets up, right?”

“Don’t…” you trailed, lips quivering.

Jackson studied you momentarily and let it go. Part of him knew you had something up your sleeve and the other part prayed day and night you would never get that far.

chapter 13 ⇤ chapter 14 ⇥ chapter 15

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[endlesshero1122]

Uninvited Guests

(Hero Fanfic Chapter 2)

Apologies for the long post, I don’t know how to do the Read More option. All rights belong to Pixelberry. I only own my MCs. Enjoy! 

@sceptilemasterr @ladyseaheart1668 @endlessflame @toglidethroughlife

Kameron watched as the masked men moved through the crowd. Their guns remained on the terrified guests, each dreading to meet the same fate as the poor waiter.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The leader jeered. “On behalf of my crew, thank you all for attending our little... charity drive. So considerate of you to bring all your finest jewels to one place; makes things easier for us.”

“Kameron, what do we do?” Alyssa whispered to her stepbrother.

Kameron hesitated. Had the situation been different, he would have been all for fighting back; he did study Taekwondo, Jiu-jitsu, and Karate. But the odds weren’t in his favor this time: these guys were twice his size, armed, and had a whole room of hostages… one of them being his sister.

“We have to do as they say,” he whispered back to her. “They have the power, and their leader seems to be waiting for an excuse to put a bullet in someone else’s head… I rather not give him one.”

“Smart boy.”

The step-siblings looked up to see the lead gunman towering over them. He leered at Alyssa and let out a slow, long whistle.

“Well, ain’t you a pretty little thing…”

Alyssa shuddered as he reached out to stroke her cheek, but Kameron pulled her away from the criminal. Her brother glared murderously at the villain, keeping a tight hold on Alyssa.

“Leave her alone,” he hissed venomously.

The gunman chuckled as he turned back to Kameron. “Is she your girlfriend?”

Kameron clenched his teeth as he pulled Alyssa closer to him. “My sister… and if you or your goons lay a finger on her, I’ll—”

The gunman chuckled. “Easy, Boy Scout. I ain’t gonna hurt her… as long as you don’t give me a reason to. My boys and I aren’t here to kill anyone; we just need to... collect a few things, and we’ll be on our way. Besides...” He leered at Alyssa once again. “It’d be a shame to have to put a bullet in that cute little face.”

He could almost see the man sneering behind his mask before he turned to address the other gunmen.

“You deal with the rest of the guests, and make sure the security doesn’t give us any trouble. I’ll deal with this group and Prescott.”

Alyssa hung close to her stepbrother as they and their friends were led towards the stage along with a few other guests: Mayor Brady, Meiko Katsaros, her son, and the waitress whom Kameron had spoken to earlier.

As the group moved closer to the Prism Gate, it’s humming grew louder. Alyssa’s heart was racing now as the crystal pulsed uncontrollably, its energy radiating through the air.

Kameron noticed this as well and turned to Dax in concern. “Dax, what’s going on with the Gate? It’s acting up again…”

“I-I don’t know!” Dax replied uneasily. “This is the same freak out it had earlier, but more powerful—”

“Hey, shut it!” The leader growled as he stalked forward. The glow of the crystal caught his attention, halting his steps. “Well, aren’t you a beauty?”

“Stay away from that crystal!” Silas barked as the man reached for the pink stone.

“Shut up, old man!” The man growled back as he plucked the crystal off the control panel. “I’m taking this rock with me!”

“NO!”

Silas lunged at the man with an angry roar, knocking him off his feet. The impact sent the crystal flying through the air… and into Alyssa’s outstretched hands. A sound like lightning cracked through the air gleaming stone barely brushed her fingers before a blinding light surged from the Prism Gate and engulfed the room.

Alyssa could hardly hear the shouts of the other guests and the gunmen over the pounding of her heart. A painful ringing filled her head, causing her to scream in agony. The ringing grew louder and louder, the world fading to black before the pain even stopped.

***

Through the near-blinding light, Kameron could see his sister; she was levitating a few feet off the ground, glowing, and writhing in pain. A shockwave pulsed through the air as she released a scream of pure agony.

A spark stronger than electric-like energy charge through him as he was knocked back by the blast. His heart raced as the energy rushed through him; he felt strong enough to demolish a tank, yet lighter than air.

The light faded, and the crystal fell from Alyssa’s limp hands as she collapsed. Roaring flames sprang to life as thick fumes of smoke filled the room. The guests screamed in terror as they flooded out of the building while the gunmen retreated through a hole blown through the far wall.

“Boss, let’s go!” One of them shouted to the leader.

“I ain’t leaving empty-handed!” The leader growled as he scooped the crystal off the ground. He turned and sprinted through the hole while rubble rained down around him.

Kameron started towards his sister but stopped when he heard Poppy scream. He turned sharply to see a massive slab of concrete hurling down towards her and Dax, both unable to move out of the way in time to avoid being crushed.

Reacting instinctively, Kameron raced over to them and raised his arms over his head… and caught the slab of concrete! He saw Dax and Poppy gapping at him as he held the slab over his shoulders.

“Kameron,” Poppy gasped. “How…?”

Kameron was just as in shock as they were. “I-I don’t know!”

With a great heave, Kameron tossed aside the slab. Another shockwave rippled through the air, fracturing the thick support columns holding up the building. As far as Kameron could tell, the building wasn’t going to hold out for much longer.

“You guys get out of here!” Kameron told his friends as he helped them to their feet. “This whole place is coming down!”

“We’re not leaving you—” Dax began to insist. Kameron silenced him with a steely look.

“I have to find Alyssa! Go, now!”

His friends hesitated, then ran for the exits as he ventured into the fire. He jumped back as the flames lashed out at him like fiery whips, forcing him back as he tried to advance forward. More rubble rained down around him, but much too large and quickly for him to catch with his newfound strength; he was instead forced to jump back to avoid being crushed.

A few ceiling beams hurled down towards him at an alarming speed. Before he could do anything, a shimmering purple sphere of energy surrounded the beams. At first glance, it looked as if it had stopped the beams completely, but a closer look revealed that the strange energy had actually slowed it down.

A slender hand grasped his own and began dragging him towards the doors.

“The exit’s this way, handsome!”

“No, wait!”

The waitress ignored him as she pulled him out into the street. Bright lights flashed while sirens wailed through the air; Meiko barked orders to officers who had just arrived on the scene while scanning the crowd anxiously. Kameron felt the waitress’s hand slip out of his before she disappeared into the sea of people.

“Kameron!”

Kameron turned to see Grayson push his way through the crowd towards him with Poppy and Dax in tow. They let out a sigh of relief before pulling the young man into a tight hug, then noticed his sister wasn’t with him. 

“Wait, where’s Alyssa?”

***

Alyssa groaned softly as her eyes fluttered open. She wanted to move, to stand and run out of the building, but doubted she’d have the strength to, even without the debris pinning her down. Though she couldn’t see clearly, she could hear people screaming all around her. Where was she? What was going on…?

She suddenly remembered: the gala, the attack, the Prism Gate… Kameron! She looked around frantically for her brother, for Poppy, Dax, Grayson, Santiago, Marjorie… had they gotten out alright? Were they hurt? Were they even looking for her? A selfish part of her hoped so; she didn’t want to die… not this soon, and not like this. Her vision began to fade as more smoke filled her lungs and the pounding in her head drowned out the screams…

“Hang on, I’m coming!”

Her eyes opened again as a figure emerged through the flames… a man with gleaming bronze skin. He hurried to her side and knelt down.

“I’m gonna get you out of here, okay? Just hang in there!”

He stood and took hold of the debris, grunting and straining as he attempted to lift it off her. After he had moved the heavier debris off of her, he pulled her out from under the rest of the wreckage and scooped her up into his arms. Alyssa looked up at the man’s bronze face, meeting his soft, shining white eyes. They faded to soft grey ones, and then everything went dark.

***

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

Kameron and the group spun around to see Meiko’s son emerge from the building. Kameron felt his heart freeze when he saw Alyssa’s limp body cradled in the young man’s arms.

“Oh no…” Poppy gasped softly.

Kameron pushed his way through the masses of bodies, his friends following closely, just as Meiko approached her son with a small group of paramedics.

“Get this girl to a hospital immediately,” she was saying to one of the paramedics before noticing the group. “Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you all to stand back—”

“She’s my little sister,” Kameron pleaded, causing the DA’s expression to soften. “Just let me make sure she’s okay… please.”

Meiko hesitated, her eyes glancing from Kameron to the paramedics tending to Alyssa. She sighed, then nodded and stepped aside before turning her attention to her son.

Kameron muttered a soft ‘thank you’ to her before rushing over to the stretcher Alyssa had just been placed on. Her skin, usually warm and full of color, was now cold and pale. A light stream of blood trickled from her nose, showing more life than the faint rising and falling of her chest. Her hair had come undone, the dark waves a disheveled and tangled mess. She appeared to be on the brink of death, a thought that left an unpleasant sensation in Kameron’s stomach.

“Kameron,” Grayson said gently, pulling the young boy out of his thoughts. The older man gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll give you a ride to the hospital. Call your mom and tell her to meet us there.”

Kameron only gave him a stiff nod as he watched the paramedics load Alyssa’s stretcher into the ambulance before driving away.

***

On the other side of the city, in a dimly lit warehouse, the lead gunman from the gala attack laid on a rusted metal table, blood pooling around him and dripping off the edges. A crooked piece of rebar stuck out from between his ribs.

“AAAARGH!! S-someone get some—GAAAAHH—whiskey on this!” He growled, his face bent in pain.

“We can still save him!” One of the gunmen was saying. “We just gotta get that rebar out before—”

“Forget it!” Another growled, reaching for his gun. “I say we move it along and take what we can, starting with that crystal!” He aimed the barrel of his gun at the leader’s head as he reached towards the Prism Crystal.

“GRAAAAH!”

A shock wave of energy flooded over the leader. He howled in agony as his skin turned to hard, grey stone. His eyes flew open, revealing a menacing crimson gleam.

The gunman hardly let out a scream in horror as the leader clamped his massive stone hand around his throat. A sickening snap echoed off the walls of the warehouse before the leader threw his lifeless body across the room. He took hold of the rebar sticking out of his chest and snapped off, leaving the rest behind. A sinister smile slowly appeared on his face.

“Well, would ya look at that…”

The two remaining gunmen shook in fear.

“B-Boss…” one stuttered, daring to speak up. “Wha… what are you?!”

“Never mind that,” the leader growled as he turned to face them. “We gotta find a new driver now.”

***

Kameron and Grayson arrived about ten minutes before Rochelle did. The mother and son embraced each other, both offering comfort to the other.

“How is she?” Rochelle asked her son as they pulled away from each other.

“We don’t know,” he told her, his voice hoarse. “They haven’t let us in to see her yet.”

Grayson watched them for a moment before hesitantly approaching Rochelle.

“Um, we haven’t met. I’m Grayson Prescott… your children’s boss. I… I’m sorry we had to meet like this. I just hope your daughter will be alright.”

Rochelle wiped her tears away, trying to look strong. “She will be, Mr. Prescott. Don’t you worry… Alyssa’s a strong one.”

A pretty doctor with heavy makeup and a high ponytail emerged from Alyssa’s hospital room just as the words left her mouth.

“Is she going to be alright?” Grayson asked for Kameron and Rochelle.

“She’s stable now,” the doctor replied. “But like I said earlier, we’ll have to keep her overnight. You’re all welcome to stay as well if you wish.”

Kameron and Rochelle exchanged worried glances. A majority of Kameron’s and Alyssa’s income had been set aside for her college tuition while the rest was used for their basic needs. While they managed to maintain a stable living, money was rather tight. Rochelle made a little more than both her adopted children, but like them, the only money she could spare went towards Alyssa’s tuition.

“Thank you, Doctor Nguyen,” Rochelle began. “But we couldn’t. We can’t even afford the ambulance as it is—”

“I’ll cover all the expenses,” Grayson interjected. “Just… just let me stay with you until she wakes up. Please.”

Tears glistened in Rochelle’s eyes as she gave Grayson a small nod. “Yes. Yes, of course. Thank you, Mr. Prescott.”

Grayson met Rochelle’s eyes, his gaze soft. “It’s the least I can do… and please, call me Grayson.”

“Alright, I get you three set up,” the doctor said softly.

***

Kameron and Rochelle both sat on the left side of Alyssa’s bed while Grayson sat on her right. An eerie silence hung over them, save for the steady beating of the heart monitor. The doctor had left them each a set of blankets and pillows, though neither of them considered the idea of sleep. Rochelle carefully tucked a few stray strands behind Alyssa’s ear, her fingers lingering on her skin.

“You’ll be alright,” she said suddenly, startling both Kameron and Grayson. She was talking to Alyssa, her voice shaking as she continued. “We all know you’ll pull through… you’re strong in your own way, even if you don’t see it.”

Kameron and Grayson exchanged a glance, both unsure of what to say. After a brief pause, Grayson spoke up.

“You’re one of the kindest people I know,” he said softly, taking Alyssa’s hand. “Compassion is like an instinct or second nature for you; you go out of your way to brighten everyone’s day and help them without wanting or expecting anything in return.”

Kameron remained silent as he gently took his sister’s hand. It wasn’t as cold now but still lacked her usual warmth.

“You’ll be okay,” he whispered to her softly. “You’ll make it through this. It’s… it’s like when we lost Dad… you put on a brave face for me and Mom, even though we knew it was hurting you, too.” He chuckled in spite of himself. “I remember when you would wake up early to make me breakfast and bring it to my room because I was too upset to leave. You would sit next to me, hold my hand, make sure I ate and took care of me…”

Kameron’s voice began to crack. “E-everyone told me that it was my job to take care of you… that you were the one who needed someone to watch over you and protect you, and that I had to be the brave one… but you didn’t care what they said; you were brave for me when I wasn’t able to be…” Tears trickled down his cheek. “You are so much braver than you realize… y-you always say that I’m your hero, but you became my hero when I needed you most … a-and I can’t lose you, too.”

Rochelle gently wrapped his arms around him, letting him sob silently on her shoulder.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” she sang. “You make me happy when skies are grey…”

Maybe he was just imagining it, or maybe it was false hope playing a trick on him, but Kameron could have sworn he saw the slightest tint of Alyssa’s rosy blush slowly return to her cheeks.

***

Kameron didn’t remember falling asleep at any point during the night, but the sound of his stepmother’s voice was what awoken him. Grayson had left the room sometime after he had fallen asleep, leaving him and his mother alone with Alyssa.

“When you first came into my life, it was the happiest I’d ever been,” she was saying to Alyssa. “The only other time I was ever that happy was when Kameron became a part of our family, and then Jason…”

Kameron felt a slight ache at the mention of their father’s name.

“Losing Jason was the most painful thing we ever went through,” Rochelle continued. “But you always found a way to brighten our day, no matter how sad we were… you were our light in the darkness, our little sunshine…” Tears sparkled in Rochelle’s eyes. “Kameron and I barely made it through the pain… we probably wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for you… and that’s why we can’t lose you. B-because if we did, neither of us would have someone who could shine as bright as you… Baby, please. Please come back to us…”

For a moment, there was only silence… then Alyssa began to stir. Kameron and Rochelle both held their breath as her eyes fluttered open.

“...Mom? …Kameron?”

Rochelle let out a choked sob as she and Kameron gently hugged her.

“Oh, Alyssa! Thank god you’re alright!” Rochelle gasped before they pulled away. “I… I was so worried that we were going to lose you…”

Alyssa took hold of Rochelle’s hand. “Mom, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise…”

Kameron smiled softly as he gently poked his sister’s nose. “We’re gonna hold you to that.”

Alyssa smiled back at him as she carefully sat up, but then frowned as she looked around the room.

“Wait… I-I didn’t spend the night here, did I?” She asked worriedly. “Do we even have enough to pay for all of this?”

“It’s okay,” Kameron assured her; the last thing she needed was stress. “Grayson’s covering the costs.”

“I can’t ask him to do that,” Alyssa said softly. “Not for me. It doesn’t feel right...”

“You’ll have to tell him that. He’s been waiting outside to see you.”

Alyssa blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“He’s here, Alyssa,” Rochelle told her. “He stayed here all night with us… he was pretty worried about you.”

“To be fair, everyone was,” Kameron chimed in, only half joking. He immediately regretted it as a look of guilt crossed Alyssa’s face.

“I can send him in if you’re up for visitors,” Rochelle offered. “But it’s okay if you want to rest for a bit—”

“It’s okay.” Alyssa gave her mom an apologetic look before continuing. “I want him to know I’m fine.”

Rochelle smiled softly and nodded. “Okay, I’ll send him in.”

“Mom,” Alyssa called before Rochelle could open the door. “You should go home and rest… please? You look like you need some sleep.”

Rochelle shook her head and laughed. “How is it that my daughter is worried about my wellbeing when she’s the one who spent the night in the hospital?”

Kameron chuckled as he ruffled Alyssa’s messy hair. “That’s our Alyssa; always looking out for others.”

Rochelle just smiled before opening the door and waving Grayson in.

“Is she alright?” Grayson asked hastily as he entered the room.

Rochelle nodded. “Yes, she just woke up. You’re welcome to see her if you’d like. I’m heading home to get some rest—” she took a moment to shoot Alyssa a teasing grin “—under the patient’s demands.”

The two adults chuckled as Alyssa playfully stuck her tongue out at her mom in retaliation.

“Thank you, Rochelle.”

“No, thank you, Grayson… for everything.”

The two exchanged a nod before Rochelle turned to Kameron.

“You keep a close eye on her, okay? Keep me posted on how she’s doing.”

Kameron gave his mom a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rochelle rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, goofballs.”

“Bye, mom!” The step-siblings choruses as she left.

Grayson sat down next to Alyssa’s bed, relief obvious on his face.

“Hey…”

Alyssa bit her lip. “Did I scare you?”

“... yeah, you did.”

Alyssa looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry…”

Grayson’s face harden. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s my father,” he hissed, startling the step-siblings; he was usually calm around them. “What was he thinking, turning on that stupid thing with everyone watching? He basically invited those robbers to the gala! He even had the nerve to hold me back when I should’ve gone back in for you two!”

He sighed as guilt replaced his anger. “I… I just wish there was more I could’ve done…”

Alyssa frowned softly. “It’s okay, Grayson. Really, you’ve done too much for us already; you spent the night here with Kameron and Mom and covered the medical bills.”

Grayson managed a small smile as he squeezed Alyssa’s hand. “It was the least I could do. You just rest, okay? Take as much time off of work as you need. You too, Kameron.” The blonde man turned to the young man. “I mean it. Taking care of your sister should be your priority, not that it’s never been.”

Kameron began to nod, but Alyssa protested.

“I don’t need any time off work, and Kameron shouldn’t have to stay home just to take care of me. We’ll be at work on Monday, first thing.”

Grayson looked unsure. “I really think you should take some time to rest. I know you’re feeling a little better now, but—”

“I have the whole weekend to rest,” Alyssa insisted. The corners of her mouth lifted into a teasing grin. “And as far as I can tell, I’m the only one who got a full night of sleep. If anyone needs rest, it’s you.”

Grayson turned to Kameron for help, but he just shrugged.

“Don’t look at me. Once she’s made up her mind, that’s it. And you do look like you could use some sleep.”

Grayson glanced from Kameron to Alyssa, then sighed in defeat.

“Okay. I’ll see you two on Monday.”

Alyssa grinned. “Count on it. And please get some sleep.”

“Okay, mom,” Grayson jested as he stood to leave. He had barely opened the door before Poppy and Dax barged into the room.

“Sorry, we couldn’t wait,” Poppy rambled as she rushed over to Alyssa.

“How’s she doing?” Dax asked Kameron. He quickly turned to Alyssa before the nineteen-year-old engineer could reply. “Any drowsiness, nausea, headache, loss of memory… Wait, do you even know who we are?!”

“Yes, Dax,” Alyssa giggled. “And I’m okay, really.”

“I’ll let you guys catch up with each other,” Grayson told them as he headed out. “Enjoy the weekend.”

Once he was gone, Dax and Poppy turned to the step-siblings with serious expressions on their faces.

“Okay,” Dax began. “I guess it kinda goes without say, but we need to talk.”

“Big time,” Poppy agreed.

Kameron sighed. “Fair enough.”

Alyssa glanced between the three of them in confusion. “About what?”

“About last night,” Kameron clarified. “Remember what happened at the gala? With the Prism Gate and the crystal?”

Alyssa’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed. “A little… I remember the Prism Gate having a meltdown… and then… and then I touched the crystal… and… I-I don’t really know what happened after that.”

“Well, you kinda went all glowy and levitate a few feet off the ground for one thing,” Dax offered.

“And you were screaming,” Poppy added, a note of concern in her voice. “Like you were in pain.”

Alyssa bit her lip. “I remember that part. It felt like my head was being torn apart…”

Kameron winced in sympathy before continuing. “After you… after you passed out, you sent out some kind of weird energy. I got caught in the blast and then—”

“The ceiling came down and Kameron held it over his head for, like, thirty seconds!” Poppy blurted out.

Alyssa’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”

“Poppy!”

“You were taking too long!” The junior editor said defensively as Kameron glared at her.

“Okay, back up a bit,” Alyssa said. She was still trying to wrap her head around what Poppy has just told her. “Kameron held up the building?”

“Well, a piece of it,” Dax verified. “But still, a normal human couldn’t hold it for as long as he did, or at all for that matter… he saved our lives.”

Alyssa stood as she turned to face her brother. “So now you have super strength?”

“Um, I guess?”

“... I wanna see.”

Kameron cleared off a breakfast tray a nurse must’ve left for Alyssa at some point. He folded it in half once, then twice, then a third time while she watched in wonder.

“Wow.”

“You have no idea.”

Dax glanced thoughtfully at Kameron, then the tray, then finally at Alyssa. After a moment, he took the tray from Kameron and handed it to Alyssa. “Try something.”

Alyssa blinked. “What?”

“I just had this theory,” Dax explained to her. “I think the Prism Gate was trying to transfer that energy through the crystal, and then the crystal tried to transfer that energy to you. If that shockwave you caused gave Kameron inhuman strength, who knows what receiving the energy directly did to you?”

Alyssa opened her mouth to reply, then stopped. Dax did have a point…

She looked down at the tray. For some reason, she knew she wouldn’t able to do anything with it, or at least, not with her hands.

“I…” she hesitated. It seemed a little stupid now that she thought about it, but still. “I don’t think I can do what Kameron did, but there is something I want to try…”

Her friends and brother nodded encouragingly. Alyssa took a breath. ‘Here goes nothing,’ she thought as she stared intently at the tray.

A slight buzz filled her head as an aurora of magenta lights surrounded the tray and slowly lifted it into the air. The tray unfolded itself as the others watched with slacked jaws.

“Holy—” Poppy began.

“Hang on a sec,” Alyssa told her as she handed the tray to Dax. The girl scrunched her face in concentration as she held her palms out. The buzzing became stronger as a small orb of the pink energy formed between her hands. She lost her focus, having been shocked by even forming the orb, and it vanished.

“Whoa…”

“Fascinating,” Dax breathed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Contact with the crystal must’ve given you telekinesis along with psionic energy manipulation.”

“Like Scarlet Witch from the Avengers?”

“... sure, like that.”

“And you both can fly!” Poppy exclaimed.

The step-siblings turned to her. “Huh?”

“Don’t look now,” Poppy warned them. “But neither of you are standing on the ground.”

They looked anyways. Much to their shock, they were indeed hovering a few good inches off the floor. Alyssa yelped in fright, startling Kameron, which resulted in sending them both crashing to the ground.

“Ow…”

“Are you two alright?” Poppy asked worriedly as she helped them up. “I said not to look!”

Dax reached into his pocket and took out a portable Geiger counter. “Hold still, you two. I need to check something real fast…”

“What’s that?”

“And why do you have it with you?”

“How did you even get it past the metal detectors?”

Dax ignored his friends’ questions as he quickly scanned the step-siblings.

“Well, that’s good news,” he muttered as he read the counter’s results.

Alyssa cocked her head. “What is?”

“You’re both officially not radioactive.”

“... that was a possibility?!”

Dax shrugged. “I guess… honestly, I’m not sure what’s possible at this point.” He frowned as he quickly checked the scanner. “That’s interesting…”

“What is?” Kameron asked.

Dax met his gaze. “Well, both of your vitals seem normal… except that they’re giving off subatomic vibrations that match the Prism Gate’s frequency… it’s clear that the crystal’s energy changed you two, but it’s impossible to tell how much.” Dax’s eyes lit up. “Unless we go back to the lab and find out!”

Poppy groaned. “Boo!”

Dax glared at her defensively. “What? In order to learn more about the effects of the crystal on them, we’re gonna need to do some science.”

“But that’s boring!” Poppy whined before grinning at the step-siblings. “I say we have some fun and do more flying!”

“I say we call it a day,” Kameron cut in.

Both Dax and Poppy frowned at him in disappointment.

“But—”

“Alyssa just woke up,” he told them pointedly. “She needs to rest.”

“But we can do some stuff tomorrow,” Alyssa offered, glancing at Kameron. “I promise to rest for the rest of the day if you say yes.”

Kameron gave her a look, then sighed. “... fine.”

Poppy squealed with delight as a huge grin spread across Dax’s face.

“But nothing too stressful,” Kameron asserted. “My sister already spent one night in the hospital, and I really don’t want to ask Grayson to cover for a second one.”

The door began to open before their friends could reply. Alyssa hastily sat back in her bed and tried to look as innocent as possible, something not too hard for her to accomplish, just as the doctor from last night walked into the room.

“Well, good morning,” she greeted Alyssa with a bright smile. “I’m glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, Doctor Nguyen,” Alyssa replied, returning the smile.

“That’s good to hear. And sweetie, you know you can call me Michelle.”

Alyssa shrugged. “I know, it just feels more polite to call you Doctor when you’re working.”

Michelle smiled softly. “Well, I suppose that’s fair. By the way, these were left for you.”

Alyssa blinked in surprise as the doctor handed her a bouquet of yellow roses. A single red rose was placed in the middle, a thin piece of paper wrapped around its stem.

“Oh! T-they’re beautiful.”

Kameron frowned as he examined the flowers suspiciously. He knew no one who knew Alyssa well enough to buy her a bouquet had gotten them: his mother wouldn’t have left Alyssa’s side just to get her flowers, and their friends would’ve just given them to her as soon as they were allowed into the room.

“Do you know who left them for her?” He asked the doctor.

Michelle shook her head. “No, sorry. They were just left on the counter along with a note.”

“There’s no name,” Alyssa chimed in, carefully reading the handwritten note attached to the rose.

“What does it say?” Dax inquired.

Alyssa blushed before showing him the note:

Hope you recover fast; a cutie like you should be hanging out in a nicer place than a hospital ;) �� KK

“Ooo! Someone has a secret admirer!” Poppy gushed as she read over the letter.

Both of the step-siblings faces’ turned red, though for very different reasons.

“You’re free to go home now that you’re feeling better,” Michelle told her. “Just remember—”

“To get some rest?” Alyssa finished, throwing a glance at her brother. “Don’t worry. I won’t be doing anything exciting for the rest of the day.”

Michelle nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll let you have a few minutes to get ready to leave, then check you out at the front.”

The group nodded and waited for her to leave. Once she had closed the door, Kameron raised an eyebrow at his sister.

“Nothing exciting, huh?”

“I said for the rest of today, so it wasn’t a lie.”

Kameron only rolled his eyes as he examined the flowers. His eyes lingered on the note, narrowing with suspicion.

“Don’t you guys think it’s weird that whoever left these didn’t leave a name on the note?”

“I think it’s mysterious and romantic,” Poppy drawled suggestively, causing Alyssa to blush once again. “Besides, he did leave a signature: KK.”

Kameron’s fists tightened. “Romantic? Try creepy! And how do you know it’s from a guy?”

Poppy ignored him as she turned to Alyssa with a wide grin. “This is so cute! Alyssa’s finally gonna get a boyfriend!”

“Okay, that’s it! You two, out!”

***

Later that night, at the step sibling’s apartment, Alyssa stared up at the moon as the stars engaged in a silent conversation. She couldn’t quite explain it, but something about the night sky had always made her feel safe and secure. Whenever reading, writing, or drawing failed to soothe her worries, she’d stare into the endless sea of stars.

Thoughts and images of the events of the gala danced around her mind in a blur before slowly coming into focus, though it did not bring her ease. She glanced down at her hands to read the note once more, then towards the bouquet basking in the moonlight.

A knock came from her door, shattering her thoughts.

“Alyssa, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

Kameron opened the door tentatively.

“Hey… you feeling okay?”

Alyssa rolled her eyes halfheartedly. “For the umpteenth time, yes. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because you spent the night in the hospital,” Kameron baited. He chuckled as his sister stuck out her tongue before dropping his voice. “And that’s not what I meant…”

Alyssa bit her lip as her brother sat down next to her. “I… I don't really know. Having these powers is kinda cool, I guess… But I can't help but feel like I'm more alone because of them. I mean, I know I still have you and Dax and Poppy, but it feels like I…like I don't belong to this world anymore.”

Kameron frowned softly as he pressed his lips to Alyssa’s temple. “Hey, don't think like that. I know a lot has changed, and it's gonna take some getting used to, but we're still the same people we were before.” He smiled teasingly. “I mean, you're still my sweet, awkward, clumsy, dorky little sister, both in age and height—”

“And you're still a goofball with a thick skull,” Alyssa cut it, grinning impishly.

“Hey!”

The two step-siblings laughed as the shoved each other playfully.

“See, we're still the same immature rascals we’ve always been. We just got some… upgrades.”

Alyssa smiled softly. “Yeah… I guess it's not that bad when you put it like that.”

Kameron returned her smile and ruffled her hair. “Anyways, we better get some sleep; Poppy wants to see us fly some more tomorrow, remember?”

Alyssa grinned. “And don’t forget about Dax. He wants to turn us into lab rats.”

Kameron chuckled. “Right… I don’t who to be more afraid of.”

The two step-siblings laughed.

“Well, goodnight.”

“‘Night.”

Alyssa’s smiled faded once her brother had left her room, uncertainty looming in her mind. Were her and Kameron the only ones with these new powers? Were they truly alone?

A face of bronze flickered in her mind, then disappeared.

… Or was there a chance that there were people like them?

~The Next Morning~

Alyssa gulped nervously as she glanced down at the street below her.

“Um, P-Poppy? I’m having second thoughts about this…”

“Oh, come on, Alyssa! We’re not even up that high!”

The step-siblings were standing on the roof of their apartment along with Dax and Poppy. Their two friends had flipped a coin to decide what the step-siblings would be doing first: flying or running more tests. Much to Dax’s and Alyssa’s dismay, Poppy had won.

Alyssa grimaced as she took another glance down. “You know I hate heights…”

“If you think about it, your real fear isn’t of heights,” Dax told her, attempting to soothe her worries. “It’s more of the possibility of falling from that height and suffering from a serious injury, or even death.”

“That’s not helping.”

“Sorry.”

“I can go first,” Kameron offered.

Alyssa nodded appreciatively.

Kameron took a deep breath; a sense of calmness washed over him as he steadily began to float away from the rooftop.

Alyssa watched as he shot off towards the bay before reappearing in front of her only moments later.

“Wow.”

“It’s easy,” he told her. “Just… pretend you’re one of the characters from Peter Pan!”

Alyssa gave him an unamused glare. “Is Jane Darling from the second movie an option?” She asked flatly.

Kameron rolled his eyes. “Then think of it like riding a bike: we’ll take small steps, and I won’t let go until you’re ready to do it yourself.”

“You left out the part about falling,” Dax chimed in.

“Dax!”

“NOT HELPING!”

“Sorry!”

Alyssa sighed before taking her brother’s hand. She rose shakenly into the air, using her free hand to clutch her brother’s arm.

“See? It’s not so bad,” Kameron said. “Just don’t overthink it.”

Alyssa steadied herself. “O-okay… this isn’t so bad.”

She let go of his hand, allowing herself to drift higher. She began to laugh as her fear was replaced with excitement.

“I’m flying! Guys, I’m actually flying!”

“Yeah, Alyssa!” Poppy cheered. “Show us what you got!”

Alyssa gave her brother a challenging smile. “Race ya, slowpoke!”

Kameron grinned as he watched Alyssa shoot up towards the clouds before chasing after her. He pulled up next to her in a matter of seconds.

“Ha! I’m gonna beat you!”

He frowned as the air began to thin out. He stopped, beginning to gasp for air while Alyssa continued flying higher. She seemed oblivious to the lack of oxygen, though he didn’t want to find out for how much longer.

“Alyssa, stop!” He called after her.

Alyssa glanced down at him as her fingers brushed against a passing cloud. “What is it?”

“The... air is… getting too thin… to breath from,” he told her through gasps. “We need… to go… back down.”

Alyssa frowned. She wasn’t having any trouble breathing; in fact, she felt more alive the higher she flew!

“But…”

Kameron looked at her pleadingly. While he wasn’t necessarily dying from the lack of oxygen, it certainly wasn’t a comfortable feeling.

Alyssa sighed. “Okay,” she conceded.

The step-siblings drifted back down to Poppy and Dax, the former squealing in delight.

“That looked incredible!” She gushed as they landed gently on the roof.

Alyssa grinned mischievously before walking up to Dax. “Hey, Dax, high-five!”

She laughed at Dax’s grimace as he high-fives the hand she had used to touch the cloud.

“Oh, gross! Did you lick your hand or something?”

“Nope!” Alyssa giggled. “I touched a cloud. It feels just like fog!”

Poppy gasped. “Guys, I just had an amazing idea!”

Kameron raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh.”

Poppy ignored him. “You all know how much I’ve wanted to post my outfit-of-the-day on the Motif’s homepage, right?”

Dax and the step-siblings nodded slowly.

Poppy grinned. “Well… I was thinking how cool it would be if one of my most amazing friends who can fly took my picture on the top of Northbridge Tower.”

Dax and Kameron exchanged glances.

“Well—”

“I’ll do it!” Alyssa offered eagerly.

She had already wrapped her arms around Poppy’s waist and flown off before the two men could reply.

“There it is!” Poppy told her, pointing at a tall tower. “Just set me on the top.”

“Okay,” Alyssa nodded, following her instructions.

She flew a few feet back before taking out her phone.

“Ready? One… two… smile!”

Poppy gave her a dazzling smile, wind whipping through her hair, as Alyssa snapped the picture.

“How do I look?”

Alyssa grinned as she turned the phone so Poppy could see the photo. “Amazing, as always.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet! C’mon, let’s show the boys.”

The two young women landed back on the roof where Dax and Kameron were waiting for them.

“Okay, that’s enough flying for you, young lady,” Kameron playfully scolded Alyssa. “How was the photoshoot?”

Poppy grinned before showing them the photo. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Dax examined the photo. “Wow! You look great!”

Poppy’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Thanks, Dax. Now, I think it’s your turn to handle these two superhumans.”

Dax grinned broadly as he turned to the step-siblings. “So… you guys ready to head to the lab?”

***

“What kind of tests do you have planned for us?” Kameron asked Dax as the slightly older engineer let them into his lab. “Remember, low stress for Alyssa.”

Dax opened his mouth to reply but paused when Poppy spoke up.

“Wow, this place is amazing! You and Kameron really work here?”

A shade of red colored Dax’s cheeks as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Yup. This is where the magic happens.” His face fell. “... as well as some disasters like the one from last night.”

Alyssa gently placed a hand on the young engineer’s shoulder. “Well…  at least Kameron and I got some really cool superpowers from it, right?”

A smile slowly crept across Dax’s face. “That’s fair… which reminds me why we’re here.”

He turned to Kameron and handed him a bar of solid steel.

“Bending a hospital tray is one thing… but let’s try something harder.”

Kameron gave him a cocky grin before gripping the bar, one hand on each end. His hands moved in a blur, bending and twisting the bar in different angles. Finally, he revealed his creation.

“You said you always wanted a puppy, right?” He asked Alyssa teasingly as he offered the steel dog to her. She rolled her eyes, but accepted it and placed it on the table.

“Alright,” Dax said, grinning widely as he handed Alyssa another steel bar. “You try.”

Alyssa frowned as she stared down at the bar unsurely. “I don’t think I can do anything with it except make it float…”

“Oh, have some faith in yourself!” Dax encouraged. “My scans indicate that you have as much strength as Kameron. While his strength is physical, yours is mental?”

Alyssa looked down at the bar and closed her eyes, concentrating on the cold steel in her hand, shaping it in her mind. When she opened her eyes, the bar had bent itself into a heart.

Poppy gave Alyssa a teasing nudge. “Awww… is someone in loooooove?”

The brunette’s cheeks turned lavender as she placed the heart on the table. “No! I-I just wanted to try something simple…”

Relax, I’m teasing you,” Poppy told her. “It is cute though… almost like a handmade gift.”

“You like handmade stuff?” Dax asked.

Poppy smiled. “Well, yeah… My grandma liked to make jewelry in her spare time, and would always send me little handmade necklaces or charm bracelets...”

Dax hummed thoughtfully.

Kameron cleared his throat. “Okay, nice trip down memory lane, but can we please focus?”

“O-oh, right, sorry!” Dax stuttered before regaining his composure. “L-let’s move on then…”

The step-siblings and Poppy followed him further into the lab until they were standing in a shooting range with free-standing concrete blocks.

“I don’t remember seeing this room before,” Alyssa said, studying the shooting range. “What do you guys test in here? … It’s not for weapons, is it?”

“Prescott Industries doesn’t deal in weapons,” Kameron assured her. “This room is used for developing the latest tech, like lasers, for example.”

Alyssa cocked an eyebrow. “And why would you need to develop lasers?”

“... research?” Dax offered lamely.

Poppy and Alyssa exchanged skeptical glances but remained silent.

“Anyways, I thought we should see how hard you two can hit,” Dax told the step-siblings. “Alyssa, you go first… try summoning that psionic energy like you did at the hospital.”

Alyssa nodded and held her hands out, scrunching her eyebrows in focus. A familiar dizzy feeling came over her as the magenta energy formed in her hands. Alyssa pushed out her hands towards one of the concrete blocks; the energy shot out at it, shattering the concrete on impact.

“That… was… awesome!” Dax proclaimed, grinning gleefully. “You could demolish a tank with that energy!”

Kameron shot him a look.

“... not that I’m encouraging her to do that or anything.”

Kameron rolled his eyes before hopped over the barrier and approached one of the concrete blocks.

“Alright, let’s see what I can do.”

After considering how to attack, he headbutted it, cracking through the concrete.

Poppy winced. “That looked like it hurt…”

Kameron shot her a smile. “Nope, not really.”

“Because you’re a blockhead,” Alyssa prompted teasingly.

Kameron glared at her. “Oh, haha. You’re funny…”

“Again, AWESOME!” Dax cheered. “You guys wanna test your resilience? I can warm up the main laser!”

Alyssa’s eyes widen as a particularly large laser hummed to life. The huge, slightly maniacal, grin on Dax’s face didn’t ease her worries. Kameron didn’t seem concerned; he looked excited to be exact. Poppy, however, did not look so enthusiastic.

“Okay, no. Just no. We are not shooting anyone with a laser.

The two boys whined in protest. “But Poppy!”

“I. Said. NO!”

The boys groaned. “Fine…”

***

“I still can’t believe you didn’t let me test Kameron’s resilience,” Dax grumbled to Poppy.

“I still can’t believe you wanted to fire a laser at him!” She retorted.

“For research purposes!”

The step-siblings, along with Poppy and Dax, have returned to their apartment for their designated Netflix night. Poppy, Dax, and Kameron were squeezed together on the couch while Alyssa sat cross-legged on the floor with a big bowl of popcorn.

“So, what are we watching tonight?” Kameron asked as he scrolled through the movie options. “Oh! Bloodbound has a new episode!”

As the episode began to play, and Alyssa drooled over Adrian, Poppy turned to Kameron and lowered her voice so that Alyssa couldn’t hear.

“Kameron, I’ve been meaning to ask… what are gonna do now that you and Alyssa have these powers?”

Kameron frown, pondering on how to best answer her question.

“I… I’m not sure,” he finally confessed. “If it was just me, I’d use my powers to help people, especially with all the crime that’s been happening in the city… but Alyssa’s my first responsibility… I can’t just risk her after what happened at the gala.”

Dax, who had been listening, joined in.

“I get that. Even with powers, I don’t like to think of Alyssa getting into any sort of danger, especially after what happened on Friday.”

Kameron nodded in a seldom manner. “I think Alyssa and I will have to decide on what having these powers means for us and our future.”

Poppy smiled gently as she placed a hand on Kameron’s hand.

“Well, whatever you two decide on, I’ll be right beside you.”

“Me too,” Dax declared. “Just… just promise me that you’ll both be careful; like it or not, you and your sister have a lot of power now, and there’s a lot of dangerous people who might be drawn to it.”

[just-an-average-dad]

I (26f) made a valiant effort to be bratty with my domme gf (33f)

Hey y'all, I'm typing this from a new computer, so sorry if there are spelling mistakes, the keyboard is bigger than I'm used to. Also, this is from a computer, so I tried to work with formatting it so it's legible to the Reddit mobile people, but sorry in advance if the formatting is weird.

​

Intro stuff - It's spoilered and y'all can skip it if you just wanna read about the sex

So, I am a 26-year old bisexual (mostly lesbian tho). I'm around 5'11" tall, which is as upsetting to me as it was to most of the men who were interested in me on dating apps. Apparently women in my family grow until they hit their first period and my hormones weren't playing nice so I just shot up like a rocket until like...literally ninth grade. All the other women in my family are tiny. People think me and my sister are dating sometimes because the height difference is so extreme. Also, because my girlfriend is 5'10", our queer friends call us "Fruit by the Foot" sometimes. I'm not fat, but I'm not exactly skinny either. I would call myself "in shape". I'm healthy, I'm happy, and other than a little bit of belly fat there's really nothing about my body I can complain about. I have C-Cup boobs, a pretty nice ass thanks to all the walking I do, and a vagina that reminds people of Arby's. My girlfriend, apart from being 5'10" as I already mentioned, is STUNNING. She has soft, smooth, pale skin, and she looks like an old Greek statue - her body is exquisite. She has a soft, smooth tum, long legs with thick thighs, C-Cup boobs that have a GREAT shape, and an ass that defies the laws of physics - the first time I saw her naked I kept touching her butt because I was confused as to how something so immaculate could exist. The woman has been blessed, and I have been blessed by proxy. Also, some people might think it's weird, but she has a beautiful neck and her arms can make me swoon. She's also surprisingly strong - like, lift my in her arms and carry me to bed strong, which is SO hot. Like. Fuck, this woman is checking so many boxes for me, I swear to God.

​

As far as sexual stuff goes, we're both "switches", meaning neither of us really has a set/designated role most of the time. Also, she has the world's most sensitive nipples, meaning she can orgasm from just nipple play if her head's in the right space. I am a huge fan of anal stuff, and have a breeding kink that has really only ever been explored in this relationship. Sometimes, if the occasion feels right, we like to play around with a light BDSM dynamic. Nothing full-time, but something that we can do to explore certain aspects of our sexualities. When we do this, she has currently always taken on the role of the domme - typically, she goes by Goddess or Queen. I enjoy being submissive a lot more, and I'm usually called Princess, Slut, or Toy. In the context of BDSM, some of the things we have enjoyed exploring are: My breeding kink, punishment, some mild humiliation stuff, tickling, orgasm denial/edging, and choking. We both also enjoy the power dynamic potential. My previous stories detail some of this stuff.

​

ALSO, for what it's worth, I'm actually good at wrestling. It comes up during the story, and to the surprise of mainly just me, she beat me in wrestling. I took self-defense classes (Jiu Jitsu and Krav Maga) ever since I was 12 years old. I was starting middle school, my dad was like "Lol, you're weird, kids are gonna pick on you," and he took me to classes. In his defense, the classes were fun and I am a woman, so they were helpful. In my defense, tho, the "weird" stuff I was doing was having short hair, dressing like a gremlin, and stammering when I talked to women. In other words, I was gay. In the extremely Mormon area I lived in, being Gay was a big "no no", so he was probably right about me getting picked on, but I digress. I kicked ass at the wrestling stuff, so just remember that.

​

Also, please, for the love of God, I don't want to join in a threesome, I don't want to be a domme (especially not to an internet stranger), and I don't want to see, hear about, or even think about your penis. Yes, yours specifically. I'm sure there's nothing wrong with it. I'm sure it works fine. I don't care about how big or small it is. I just don't want it involved in my life. I know some people see the word bisexual and think "I bet if I show her my penis she'll fuck me," but unless you are literally (LITERALLY) Jack Black, Jackie Chan, or the one guy from my History Class at BYU I can promise I don't wanna meet your meat.

​

OK so the sexy part

For a couple of days we'd been been having what was essentially a date weekend. It started by going to dinner at a new place near our favorite brunch spot - they had served us some incredible food, and the entire time we ate (plus the 30 minutes it took the waiter to remember we had ordered dessert) we had outstanding banter. I'd been having a week, and the date night was exactly what I needed to fix it. At some point when we were chatting, I was listening to her talk and was just ~staring~ at her because she is SO pretty and I absolutely love her, and she caught the look on my face, smiled a little, leaned in close to my ear, and whispered "Wow, you're just a needy little princess, aren't you?"

​

Apart from being starved for D&D, we both love the warrior queen/slave princess dynamic because the sex is i n c r e d i b l e. She teases me SO much when we do that dynamic, and I have full license to be bratty, so I can get her really riled up. My heart was pounding, and my mind was racing, basically from that moment on. After the meal, we left for my car, where she pulled me in close to her chest, leaned back against my car so the full weight of my body was pressing against hers, and kissed me for a solid minute if not more. After we broke apart, we realized we needed to finish that kiss somewhere private, so I drove home, speeding the whole way.

​

When we got home, she said she needed to "clean up" and disappeared into the bathroom. She came out moments later with her hair tied back, and led me by the hand to the bedroom. We started with some cuddling, kissing each other the way we wanted to back in the parking lot. I was touching her all over, feeling her warm, soft, smooth skin, and enjoying the sensation of her running her hands on my body - her hands were traveling up and down my back at first, but eventually they moved down to my waist, and eventually my ass and pussy. This, alone, was amazing. This is the kind of kissing I had been daydreaming about since I met her 18 months ago. She started doing that thing with her tongue, where she rubs it on the roof of my mouth right behind my front teeth, and I moaned a little - not too loud, honestly I was barely aware I had done it, but it was enough to light the fire in her. I could see it in her eyes - she broke away from the kiss for a second, then buried her face in my neck, kissing and biting me until I moaned again. Her hands moved to my breasts, massaging them at first, then she started to gently pinch the nipples. Just as I was getting into it - she stopped. I made eye contact with her, waiting for her to keep going, but instead, she just leaned in close.

​

"I know my little servant needs this."

​

"I'm a princess, and I expect to be treated as such," was my response. She locked eyes with me for a moment, calculating her next step, and then slowly moved her head down to my breasts. Her tongue touched my nipple, and I could feel the excitement start to run down my back. She was really getting into it, lavishing my breasts with her long, agile tongue, sucking on my nipples perfectly - It was bliss. She moved one of her hands down to my clit, brushing it gently for a moment, before moving her fingers lower, towards my vagina and ass. I felt her pointer finger start to brush against my asshole, and shot upright, locking eyes with her.

​

"What are you going to do to me?" I love anal, so that wasn't a problem, but I had a sense she was plotting something.

​

"I don't think a Queen should have to explain herself to a servant."

​

"I don't think you're a Queen," I shot back. "At least...not my Queen."

​

She sighed, rolled her eyes, and mounted herself on top of me. "You're not really in a position to negotiate this," she said. "Still, if you want to fight about it..." her fingertips moved to my side. My VERY ticklish side. She made a few small movements, enough to make me whimper, and I decided I was going to fight back. Because, as any submissive knows, fighting your domme is a great idea. I reached for her wrist and tried to stop me, but her other hand caught mine, pinning it above my head. Seeing I was trying to fight back, she started to tickle me harder - I started trying to writhe away, but from her position on top of me I couldn't shift her even a little bit - she was pinning the only hand I could reach her tickling hand with way above my head. I tried to use my other hand to free the one she had trapped, but this only served to expose a more ticklish area. I was full-on whimper-moaning as I tried to fight the tickling. Finally, afraid I was going to give in to her demands if she tickled me for much longer, I tried to wrestle my way free. Arching my back and twisting, I managed to free my arms, and was able to sit upright. She seemed surprised at first, but that surprise switched to mild annoyance quickly. She leaned her body against mine, holding me close to her chest, and pressed her lips right against my ear.

​

"You want to know what I'm going to do to you? I'm going to make you moan, then whimper, then shake, and then, finally, I'm going to make you beg."

​

I shook my head. "I won't beg."

​

"We'll see," she said, and the pushed me back down HARD against the bed, pressing me into the pillows and she tickled me. I grabbed at her wrist again, buit the attempt went as well as before. Mockingly, she looked down at me, head tilted, voice pitch raised to a sort of condescending babytalk, eyebrows lifted. "Oh, did my little princess want to fight? Well come on, let's have it!"

​

I struggled to free my trapped hands while she sat patiently on top of me. Her arms were WAY stronger than my own, and I couldn't seem to get the right leverage. With a taunting face and the same condescending tone, she said, "It's OK princess, get ready. Just let me know when you start."

​

I flushed as I tried to buck her off of me, but her thick, strong thighs just pressed themselves more firmly against me. "This must be so hard for you." I tried to squirm away, seeing if I could get myself to a better angle. "You're trying SO hard, princess, don't worry, I'm sure it will work this time." I tried pushing against her, hoping if I could push her back she would get unbalanced and I could start to worm my way free. "Well, I think I gave you enough time," she said, taking both my hands and pinning them against my chest.

​

Now fully frustrated, I was glaring at her. She laughed as she saw my scowl, telling me it was cute that I had tried to get free. She moved herself off of me, moving to my side and grabbing my waist on both sides. I knew if I tried to fight now it would end the same as before - her mounted on top off me, probably tickling me, maybe even escalating it to a spanking (or worse - orgasm denial :c) if I was being too annoying. She was leaning alongside me, giving her access and reach to most of my body, depending on how she moved her arms - her head was positioned near my shoulder, and one hand was running through my hair while her other hand was starting to move itself down my tummy towards my pussy. She slid further down, letting herself lounge closer to my tummy as the hand that had been stroking my hair started to play with my nipples, and the hand that was playing with my pussy...disappeared? I didn't know what was going to happen entirely, but I was waiting. I heard something make a noise by my ass and looked down - sneakily during our tickling session, she had taken the container of lube from the bedside table - the lube we used solely for anal. I locked eyes with her, and saw the mischevious little grin spread across her face. She moved her unlubricated hand to her lips, wordlessly shushing me, and then slowly started to rub the lube from her fingers around my hole.

​

In all honesty, I wanted this, but I was also mad about it - I love anal, something she knows, and I knew if there was any way I was going to end up begging for something it would involve anal. She lubed her middle finger, and moved to push it inside me. She was gentle, taking her time, moving slowly and deliberately. It felt nice...very nice. Dangerously nice. I heard a gentle moan as her finger reached its deepest depth - my moan. I hadn't even thought about it, it just came out! My own body was betraying me. She smiled as she heard it, saying, "It's OK, princess, just let the feelings happen." I laid back, allowing the feeling of pleasure and satisfaction to build, and it was building fast. She kept her motions fluid, using her free hand to go between my nipples and my clit, egging me on as she talked to me. "You can't help it, you know. You're just a princess, you don't have the same self-control as me." "Oh, poor princess, you're trying to fight it so hard, I wonder if you'll win?" "Ooh, I see you squirming, do you like it when I touch you like this?" I tried to keep my face stoic as she fucked me, but it was hard. Eventually, the moaning was taking over, and she was starting to smirk like she'd won. I couldn't take it - flushed, embarrassed, and trying SO hard to fight my building orgasm, I covered my face with a pillow, hoping it would serve to muffle my moans and hide my face.

​

"Oh no, is the little princess embarrassed? Is she feeling ashamed because she can't help but submit to me?" Before I could answer, she said, "You know I can hear you moaning through the pillow. I must be doing well, even muffled I can hear you giving in. You know this is what you need, princess."

​

I stuffed the pillow deeper into my mouth, and she responded by pushing a second finger inside me - just as I'd found a way to hide my imminent submission, she found a way to make me moan louder. She started fucking me harder, making me moan and whimper with the pleasure flooding my body. Just as I felt myself getting close to the tipping point - legs twitching, hands shaking against the pillow I was pushing into my face, moaning like the slutty, submissive princess she had turned me into, she pulled her fingers out. My clit was aching, my pussy was dripping onto the bedsheet (making a noticeable wet spot on the bed sheet that's still somewhat visible - I might have stained the bedsheet a little this time, but I was leaking a lot), my back was arched, and my abs were clenched, and I felt like my body was filling with a dull light - a light that was starting to fade fast after she pulled out. I shot up like a mousetrap, eyes wide, noticeable panic in my voice.

​

"No! No no no! Please, please, put them back!"

​

"Put...what back?"

​

My heart was pounding. I needed this. "Why did you stop? Please, keep going!"

​

"Stop what?" She asked. Her face was wide, making her expression of surprise look exaggerated and mocking. Suddenly it clicked - she wasn't playing dumb, she hadn't made a mistake, she was fulfilling a promise. My hands had just started to tremble when she pulled her fingers out - she had promised to make me moan, whimper, shake, and beg. I felt my body crying out for her touch - it was almost painful how bad I needed her, but my mind would not let me speak the words I knew would get her to resume. She raised an eyebrow expectantly. I shook my head.

​

"I can't, Queen," I said. She watched my face, seeing my trembling lips, looking at the wet spot beneath me, before rolling her eyes.

​

"Oh, you're so stubborn. Here, lean in close, you can whisper it to me. Nobody else needs to hear you."

​

My face was burning all the way to my scalp - I needed this. I leaned in closer, then pulled my head away, still conflicted between my need to win the battle of wills and my need to cum. She locked eyes with me, rolled her eyes again, and said, "Go on, say it. Say 'please, my Queen, fuck me in my needy ass.'"

​

I leaned in close to her face, beaten and desperate. "Please, my Queen, fuck my needy ass."

​

She shoved me back into the pillows, lubricating her fingers again, and moving them back inside of me. No words were spoken, but they didn't need to be - the pleasure was building. She had beaten me, but it didn't matter - I was getting what I needed and I loved it. I let myself moan as loudly as I needed as she fucked me into the mattress. After only seconds, I felt my muscles clench, my body felt like it was filled with electricity, my fingers began to tingle, and my moans seemed to catch in my throat. An orgasm was hitting me like a Tsunami and I couldn't get away even if I tried. She didn't stop - I knew she wouldn't. She had worked too hard to get me to this point, and now she was going to make me cum until I hurt. Her fingers kept moving, the same diligent movement as before, her fingers rubbing my clit, her tongue now lapping at my nipples - less than a minute after the first one hit, I felt the next jolt as a lightning bolt orgasm made me gasp. Tears were leaking out of the corner of my eyes - I felt SO good as she fucked me into a puddle, and then kept going.

​

A third and fourth orgasm hit in rapid succession afterwards, before the final one. The last one was taking longer - it felt like it was building up from deep inside me. To bring it out, she had moved another two fingers into my drenched pussy, fingering my g spot with on hand while her other hand pleasured me from the other hole. It took almost 5 more minutes before the last orgasm finally reached the tipping point. Eyes wide, I told her it was happening, and she told me to let it happen. The orgasm didn't wash over me - it ripped through me. It was like a tornado, like a gunshot, like an explosion, it hit so hard my ears started ringing. I started seeing spots dancing in front of my eyes, my fingertips were tingling like they were touching live wires. I wasn't moaning now, I was whimpering, and I was doing it loud enough I was worried people outside our apartment could hear it.

​

As soon as she took her fingers out of me I went limp - the hum in my ears was still present, the spots in my eyes were starting to dissipate. I was weak after the session, and my Queen knew it - she left quickly to wash her hands in the bathroom sink, then ran back to the room. She lay down next to me, and pulled me up onto her chest. For almost 20 minutes, we were totally silent as she ran her fingers through my hair and kissed me head. Finally, I turned up to her and told her that she had been incredible. She kept brushing my hair with her fingers, and told me I had done good. She kept calling me a good girl in a sweet, tender, quiet voice, brushing my hair until I was ready to stand up. On weak, shaky legs, I walked to the shower, and when I was done we sat on the couch watching Buzzfeed Unsolved until almost midnight. She cuddled me so tenderly that night, and the next morning we woke up feeling amazing.

​

I have a few more stories from this weekend, since we were just having too much fun for like 4 consecutive days. I'll post them soon!

submitted by /u/lizardho07040422 [link] [comments] from Sex Stories https://ift.tt/3rtNony

[danielletinybruiser]

2.5 Years of grappling

Holy wow, it has been a very, very long time since I wrote in here. 

I’ll make up for it a little with a bit of a progress report on my training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (with a little smattering of Judo, Freestyle and Greco-Roman wrestling), especially with how much I have enjoyed competing in the last year.

In the last year: starting in August 2018, I’ve competed four times as a white belt/beginner.

The first Comp, in August, taught me about focus and Adrenalin. I almost barfed after my first match! But I was ok after that, and did ok, sort of, lol. I won one match via submission: with a triangle choke (I had never even got one in rolling before!), and while I lost a bunch, I had a couple of close matches. I was hungry for more!

The second competition, in November 2018, SUCKED. I sucked. I lost every match. I had a couple of close ones, but it was awful. But I knew at least what I had to work on.

I did a sub only competition in January and SHOCKED myself. I got silver medals in both gi and no gi, and every loss came after a long battle: 20 minutes in the gi match and 40 mins in the final no gi match. And I had a nice submission victory in no gi with a rear naked choke. That felt amazing.

Honestly I was surprised. Competition is hard, and you do get an adrenaline rush that can make time warp all over the place, and it’s so easy to slip up and just... WHOOOPS YOU LOST. But I felt calmer and more controlled and focused. Dom, who coached me and helped me all day, said I made him proud. Another training partner said he was inspired! This was the best I’d ever done, and it felt amazing.

Last month, in May, I got my very first gold medal in competition. I had one opponent in my division, I won our first match 6-0, and our second match 20-0. In GI! I’ve always though I sucked much worse in gi (but had been spending much, much more time training it).

The numbers sound like a shutout, but my opponent was a four stripe white belt with genuinely good defense. She was strong as hell and I didn’t submit her! I was just first - I got a nice judo takedown in our first fight and just controlled her well. But I don’t think for a second that she was a pushover or unskilled at all. This was her first comp and she did well to defend beautifully.

She kindly let me know she couldn’t stay for the no-gi division, so I had the comp officials through me in with the general adult division for no-gi. I could’ve accepted an empty gold medal but lol, I came to compete.

And frankly, in no gi, I got my ass kicked. Importantly, it was kicked LESS than it was in competitions past. Even when I lost, I lost by very little, and at least had some successes. I had one total fuckup loss, going for a bad takedown on a far superior wrestler. That one was allllll my fault and my dumb ass got guillotined.

The two middle losses sucked, but they were close. I only lost my a couple of points and at least had another takedown.

And my last no gi match was a nice clean win, I took my opponents back and got a submission via rear naked choke.

It was a day of highs (my first gold medal!!! That back take and submission in no gi!) and lows (Jesus christ I need to work on my wrestling). I won exactly half of my matches: 3/6 which is actually my best ratio ever. And I’m getting a bit better in the gi.

I LOVE competing. Even though I do get angry with myself when I do poorly, and lord knows, I still get very nervous before my first match. I generally love the vibe, and I love being able to really, clearly pinpoint my growth, my successes, and my biggest weaknesses. Competition has made me so much sharper and given me a real roadmap and sense of empowerment over my own path in grappling.

Now to the obvious.

I am mortified to still be a white belt after training for two and a half years. I did have a couple of months off for injury (the evil garbage wrist), but that’s offset by the months I had started training BJJ in San Francisco.

^ Accurate view of myself trying to learn a new technique.

I’ve been thinking deeply on it lately. Trying to be extremely mindful in my training and my focus. I think part of it is how ridiculously slowly I learn in drilling a new technique.

It’s embarrassing, but my brain is such that a new technique takes me a very, very long time to even parse, let alone get half right, let alone “nail”

Yet, when I’m sparring live, things come to me. Things “occur” to me. Things make sense. My body is so much smarter than my conscious mind, and I know that overthinking things is my biggest weakness.

So how do I mitigate that? How do I learn to, well, LEARN new techniques without feeling like a day one student? I’m honestly not sure. I don’t think I’m good or anything, I just know I’m not AS BAD at this as I appear when I’m drilling. I think I need to find some sort of mental framing that will help me figure things out a bit more smoothly.

All of this is important to me because grappling has gotten me through one of the hands-down worst periods of my life. 2018 was a completely unmitigated disaster and 2019 started off rough as hell. BJJ has been my therapy (alongside actual therapy ofc), it is a beautiful infinite road that I am happy to be on, happy to make any inch of progress upon. It is always there and it will always be hard. It teaches me patience, even when I get frustrated.

And it makes me feel powerful and physically good - happy in my own body.

So that’s what I’ve got right now. I’m loving this sport, I’m loving the art, I’m loving the practice. All that’s to do is focus on learning, improving, and continuing to go down this road.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

My Not-So-Secret Recipe for Cultivating Adult Friendships

http://fashion-trendin.com/my-not-so-secret-recipe-for-cultivating-adult-friendships/

My Not-So-Secret Recipe for Cultivating Adult Friendships

I

t’s 8 p.m. on a Friday night and my husband is cursing at a pot of pasta. A few feet away, perched on a sagging IKEA couch, my ex-roommate’s ex-lover is planning a backpacking trip with my high school theater camp buddy’s husband’s college friend. Behind them, a drag king comes in late from “genderqueer jiu jitsu” and hugs a 10th grade English teacher, returning her copy of The Body is Not an Apology. An ex-coworker from who-knows-how-many-jobs-ago is pouring more wine for the previously mentioned high school theater camp buddy while asking to join her blacksmithing class, while another ex-coworker is snuggled up in an armchair with an actor I once directed in a touring production of Romeo and Juliet. I am setting the table with my grandmother’s good silver and all is right with the world. Welcome to Frambly Dinner.

“Frambly” is the term we came up with to describe our family of chosen friends and the brambly way we all ended up entwined, but trust me, this shorthand is the only formality. I’ve been hosting this dinner party with my husband for nearly three years now, and what started as a “writers group” (guess how much writing we did?) has morphed into something I think many people, millennials especially, find as elusive as the rest of the American Dream: warm, reliable community.

My grandparents — all four of them — were friends for years before they got married and started having kids (two of which would eventually marry each other and have me). When you look at pictures of my mother’s Bat Mitzvah, my dad’s parents are there, dancing in the background. I remember one of my grandfathers giving me a hug at the other’s funeral and saying, “You lost a good friend, Kiddo,” which struck me as odd, even at 10 years old, since they had known each other far longer than I’d been alive. He was the one who had lost a good friend.

When I moved across the country after college graduation, I took many of my grandparents’ things with me — things that belonged in other kitchens, in other eras. Even though I knew almost no one in California, table service for 10 still felt like a necessity. It was a way of carrying their legacy with me, even though I didn’t yet know how to bring it to life. When I met a red-headed bartender who loved to cook as much as I did, I decided to stay. We cooked our favorite recipes for each other, and many of mine (the desserts, mostly) came out of inherited old cookbooks that were peppered with advice to the wife, the hostess, for whom every meal is an opportunity for social graces and tabletop diplomacy.

Now, if you ever happen to move to a new city and worry about making friends, I can promise you this: If you date a bartender, move in with a burlesque performer, and get a job at a Shakespeare theater, you will quite suddenly be surrounded by a wealth of interesting people. And if you feed those people regularly and well, you will sit down to dinner one day and notice that not only do you now have actual friends, but they feel a bit like family, too. And although this wild assembly of bohemian roustabouts is hardly the stuff of a Rockwell Thanksgiving, you might realize what I did: those pearls-in-the-kitchen Bettys from the cookbooks were on to something.

The friendships that buoyed my grandparents’ lives were founded at their synagogue. By the time my brother and I came along, they’d been known as “The Card Club” for several decades. The group was eight couples in total, that got together once a month and had dinner before the husbands played poker and the ladies played dominos. The hosting rotated from house to house, but both my mother and I have strong memories of ironing napkins, polishing the good silverware, and arranging trays of nuts and candies for when The Card Club was coming over.

But much as I admire The Card Club, I worry that it’s not a replicable model for modern friendships. In fact, millennials report feeling lonelier than older generations and, if the myriad essays on the topic are to be believed, making and keeping adult friendships hasn’t come as easily as many of us expected. Perhaps because an economy reliant on freelancing, gigs and side hustles doesn’t exactly encourage workplace friendships; or because we’re less likely than any previous generation to belong to a formal religious organization. And since we’re waiting longer to have kids, if we have them at all, we’re not making PTA alliances or bonding over a shared flask at the elementary school rendition of “You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown,” either.

To put it bluntly: No one is going to make our friendships for us. But if we’re as anxious, broke and lonely as the internet suggests, battling our imposter syndrome in increasingly tiny apartments (as the stats say we are), then maybe that’s exactly why we need to resurrect and reform an oft-forgotten social relic: the dinner party. It’s time to stop letting an antiquated idea of “the perfect host” get in the way of our ability to create space for our community and nurture lifelong friendships.

When asked what brought me to California, I often quip that moving across the country for no reason seemed like the kind of thing one should do in their twenties, but the truth is, I was grieving. The price paid for such a close loving family (my dad’s parents lived two miles in one direction, my mom’s two miles in the other) was that after burying six people in ten years, there wasn’t a street I could drive down or a place I could go that didn’t remind me of someone I had lost. I had grown up with a minimum of 13 people around my grandmother’s table for Shabbat Dinner every Friday night, and I didn’t have any faith at the time that I would ever feel that same sense of joy and peace as those nights brought.

The first few times hosting were stressful. I worried that the food wasn’t good enough. I worried that the apartment wasn’t big enough. I worried that my goal of being a good host wasn’t feminist enough. The first time felt like I was playing dress up in someone else’s heels, but this weekly time set aside for sharing food with friends is something I now cherish beyond measure, and I slowly realized that the feeling I was missing from Shabbat dinners and that I envied from The Card Club nights was something I could create for myself, but not by myself. So I invited people in. And even if it sounds cheesy, I want to invite you in too. I want to invite you to create your own Frambly Dinner, and I’ve outlined my best tips below to help get you started. You don’t need matching napkins or a spotless house or even a dining room. All you need is a few people you’d like to spend more time with, and a willingness to invite them in.

Just Try It Out

You don’t have to commit to hosting a weekly or even monthly dinner party. Just try one and see how it goes. Think of it less like a “dinner party” and more like just having some friends over. If you can get over this first fear, everything will come easier.

If You Plan It, They Will Come

I work three jobs and so does my husband. But Friday nights are sacrosanct. The beauty of hosting regularly is that we never have to worry about when we’re going to make time to see our friends. Celebrating birthdays, promotions, holidays, etc., are all simple and genuine: just add a toast or a cake. No one has to stress about FOMO because if you miss it this week, there’s always next week. But I’ve found that the people who value this like we do continue to block out their Fridays for the Frambly.

You Don’t Need a Table

Our apartment features one room to serve as kitchen, living room and dining room. It’s not big. Most of the time, we set out platters of food on the kitchen counter and everyone helps themselves to a plate before perching on the couch, armchairs, footstools or on pillows around the coffee table. If you wait until you have a proper dining room table to try your hand at hosting, you will miss out on years of friendship.

Keep It Simple

Give a half hour window for when folks should arrive and then forget about the clock. Serve everything family style. Pad your menu with lots of veggies — they’re inexpensive, colorful and hardly anyone is allergic. Don’t let the last minute cancellation or additional guest ruffle your feathers. Don’t make a seating chart. Don’t plan dessert if you don’t want to — you can always just offer tea or send someone to the corner store for Ben and Jerry’s.

Let People Help

Ask them to bring drinks, or something to contribute to a cheese plate in case dinner is a bit late. Or to pick up some cookies on their way over. Let them come early and help cook if they want. Let them tackle some the dishes. Let them pitch in. Remember, you’re building a family, not running a restaurant.

Just Clean the Bathroom

You can fake everything else and no one cares anyway.

But here’s the biggest secret:

It’s Not Actually About the Food

I’m a good cook. My husband is incredible. But what I’m reminded of on nights when we tell the Frambly that we just can’t handle the cooking that Friday and we all pitch in for some pizza instead, is that the food is just the excuse for getting together. The real nourishment comes from knowing that there is a time and a place where we will be welcomed and loved no matter what. And carving that space out in this world is the true art of hosting.

Molly Conway is a playwright and writer living in Oakland, California. You can follow her on Instagram @moxiequinn for periodic updates about her garden and Frambly Dinner. She has yet to finish a cup of tea while it is still hot.

Illustrations by Alec Doherty. 

[fashiontrendin-blog]

Twitter Mourns Anthony Bourdain With Memories Of Adventures He Inspired

http://fashion-trendin.com/twitter-mourns-anthony-bourdain-with-memories-of-adventures-he-inspired/

Twitter Mourns Anthony Bourdain With Memories Of Adventures He Inspired

Fans of celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain took to Twitter to mourn his death on Friday ― and to remember how he inspired them to get out of their comfort zones.

The 61-year-old author and television host was found unresponsive in his hotel room in France on Friday morning, where he was working on an episode of his show, CNN’s “Parts Unknown.” 

The cause of his death was suicide, CNN reports.

Through his long career as a world-traveling television host, Bourdain took viewers to remote locations, introducing people to diverse cuisines and cultures.

In his 2000 memoir, Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly, Bourdain laid out the cornerstone of his philosophy on travel and experiencing local cuisine.

“Do we really want to travel in hermetically sealed popemobiles through the rural provinces of France, Mexico and the Far East, eating only in Hard Rock Cafes and McDonalds?” Bourdain wrote. “Or do we want to eat without fear, tearing into the local stew, the humble taqueria’s mystery meat, the sincerely offered gift of a lightly grilled fish head? I know what I want. I want it all. I want to try everything once.”

On Friday, dozens of people who were energized by that vision took to social media to share some of the ways Bourdain had inspired them to try new foods and adventures they may never have attempted otherwise ― from sampling street food, to picking up the martial arts that he loved, to pursuing their own dreams of becoming a chef. 

Read on for more about the legacy Bourdain left in his fans’ lives. 

We went to Lyon a few weeks ago, inspired to track down the unrelentingly authentic bouchon food culture Anthony Bourdain revealed for us on Parts Unknown. It was there, just as he said it would be. pic.twitter.com/FsUIAdq50Y

— Randy Shore (@theGreenManblog) June 8, 2018

So sad about the passing of Anthony Bourdain. His CNN episode on Iran inspired me to take my honeymoon there, and for that alone I’ll be forever grateful. Loved his show, loved his enthusiastic spirit, his curiosity and his appetite. So sorry for those he left behind. RIP

— Bill Moseley (@choptopmoseley) June 8, 2018

Like so many others, I planned my entire vacation for later this year based around Anthony Bourdain’s adventures. I have him to thank for many sleepless nights being sucked into his world. If youre thinking about harming yourself, please call 1-800-273-8255 and stay. Please stay.

— kelsey darragh (@kelseydarragh) June 8, 2018

This Anthony Bourdain news is wrecking me. My husband and I developed a love of food watching his shows. He inspired my husband to cook- something he never did, now its his career. He was such a strong voice for food service workers. So sad. May he rest in peace.

— Yolanda Machado (@SassyMamainLA) June 8, 2018

#RIP Anthony Bourdain – Apart from his work, he championed the cause of @jrezaian when the journalist was imprisoned in Iran for doing his job. Upon release, Bourdain encouraged Jason to write a book — and would agree to publish it https://t.co/hXFbCV1Bzt pic.twitter.com/RQQkUWbfF0

— David Beard (@dabeard) June 8, 2018

Bourdain’s exceptional writing made this one formerly picky, fearful eater very brave and want to try everything and I’ll always be grateful for him and the worlds he opened

— 🇵🇷 Lin-Manuel Miranda 🏳️‍🌈 (@Lin_Manuel) June 8, 2018

Heartbroken over the loss of Anthony Bourdain. You inspired so many of my travels, my thirst for discovering new worlds, and made me crave street food like nobody else. You will forever and always be my spirit animal. Rest easy @Bourdain. pic.twitter.com/V9c4JWotpt

— Sir Rocha Says (@sirrochasays) June 8, 2018

Anthony Bourdain was the reason I was able to even attempt ½ the meals I did around the world. A few beers and an I may never get another chance attitude. Make the most of where you are has always been my mantra. I hope others can find the help to continue on. 1-800-273-8255 #RIP pic.twitter.com/5S0JaCTuBF

— Nelson Figueroa Jr. (@FigSNY) June 8, 2018

Cacio de pepe: He said go do a dive. Order it with the house red. So, I did. #AnthonyBourdain #Italy

— Natasha Rothwell (@natasharothwell) June 8, 2018

I also had the great fortune to tell Anthony Bourdain that he was the reason I knew that I could go from being a loudmouthed line cook to being a writer. I read Kitchen Confidential in my 20s, and it inspired me to follow my dreams

— Mackensy Lunsford (@mackensy) June 8, 2018

Today, I found out the world has lost one of my heroes. @Bourdain inspired me to discover the world through food; to delight in the things found easily around the planet amongst our travels. I even heard about a thing called Brazilian Jiu Jitsu thanks… https://t.co/9w9GXr8n81 pic.twitter.com/BgzhIYafy8

— Matthew Kiichi Heafy (@matthewkheafy) June 8, 2018

So sorry to learn of Anthony Bourdain‘s death. He was an inspiration to me as a broadcaster, an athlete, and a citizen of the world. Just two days ago, I was telling a friend how Bourdain’s example inspired me to return to MMA training. #RIPAnthonyBourdainhttps://t.co/FSXM40Zh4S

— Keith Boykin (@keithboykin) June 8, 2018

My family is truly shaken by the sad news about Anthony Bourdain. Our visit to Turkey and the beautiful city of Istanbul was largely inspired by his Parts Unknown episode. He stoked our wanderlust like few ever did on television. May he RIP. https://t.co/aE0nspr5NA

— Anirban Maitra (@Aiims1742) June 8, 2018

I went to Vietnam because of #AnthonyBourdain. It was one of his favorite places and after visiting I understood why.

Which is your favorite episode? #MyFavoriteAnthony @CNN

— 🍊Yummy Orange🇳🇬🇲🇽🇩🇪🇪🇸 (@HoustonsJoe) June 8, 2018

Anthony Bourdain inspired me to travel unconventionally. He thought me that great meals are about the people you’re with. His books made me laugh, his shows made me realize the world is full of mystery. Thank you for that. Remember help is a phone call away US:1-800-273-TALK pic.twitter.com/M6Ru2a6NJG

— Alisha Wainwright (@WainwrightAE) June 8, 2018

When I was home from school as a kid I would spend the WHOLE day watching Travel Channel. It were people like Anthony Bourdain who inspired me to study journalism. I thought they had the best jobs in the world. Be kind and check in on people, you never know who needs it most.

— Samantha Stull (@samantha_stull) June 8, 2018

Like so many other people, reading Anthony Bourdain almost 20 years ago first got me into cooking. He changed the way I thought about food, travel and culture and opened my mind repeatedly along the way. What a terrible loss.

— Matthew Miller (@matthewamiller) June 8, 2018

My heart sank this morning when I learned Anthony Bourdain died.

I discovered my love for gastronomy through his shows, and learned to eat and appreciate new foods outside of my comfort zone through his attitude towards food and culture.

Travelling and eating wont be the same.

— victra (@itsvictra) June 8, 2018

I’ve spent the past year and a half either traveling around the world or planning my next trip, satisfying an urge to learn about the world that was deeply inspired by Anthony Bourdain and his work/travels. I’m so, so sad.

— Jean Bentley (@hijean) June 8, 2018

If you or someone you know needs help, call 1-800-273-8255 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. You can also text HOME to 741-741 for free, 24-hour support from the Crisis Text Line. Outside of the U.S., please visit the International Association for Suicide Prevention for a database of resources.

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