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bluewatersfairy · 4 years

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i wanna see you - j.p

a/n: just wanted to write something short and then this happened. a nameless joel piece (please note i am otherwise a strong supporter of sub!joel)

inspired by mila j’s verse in ‘on the way’

synopsis: friday night self-care ft. friends w/ benefits

warnings: mature content

word count: circa 6300

•••

friday nights were so often spent alone and filled with her guilty pleasures. she didn’t mind being alone, truly. there was something so attractive to her about spending the evening in her favourite burgundy lingerie set and sipping a glass (or bottle) of wine. she went back and forth between watching trashy reality tv and dancing around her bedroom to her monthly playlists. stress was never an issue on friday nights.

this friday, however, was one where she wouldn’t have minded some company. it had been a long week of constant and endless work. dropping her work load at the door hadn’t been so easy once she stepped inside. it was while she was undressing that she found something that caught her attention and pulled her away from that stress.

a golden wrapper by her bed had caught the reflection of the last sliver of sunlight right as she was tossing her blouse to the side. she ambled towards it and carefully picked it up, thinking back to the night it was from, she turned it over in her hands. a small smirk and it was thrown into her small rubbish bin, supposedly forgotten as she made her way down the hall to her bathroom.

one hot shower later and she was stood in front of her mirror admiring her own body. beads of water still glistened on her dark skin and the warm lights above her made them glow golden. her eyes followed her hands as they dragged down her body. her baby smooth skin was replaced by his larger, rougher ones. she didn’t dare tear her eyes away.

she gasped at the thought and his hands dragged back up her body. her erect nipples caught onto his palms but before she could react, his hands were on her neck. her head rolled back and she breathed out a long-kept moan.

touch me there…

finding herself in the mirror again, she let her hands drop. she reached for her dark, fluffy towel that was on the heating rack beside her and began to pat her body dry. there was too much she wanted to do tonight for her to get caught up in the thought of him so early. so, he was pushed to the back of her mind and she got herself dressed in a new lingerie set she’d picked out the week before.

with a busy and never ending schedule, it was easy for someone like her to get lost in her work. she’d seen it happen to people she’d gone to school with, her mother too. that burnt-out, self-deprecating, no-good state that could ruin a person. it was horrible to witness and she never let herself think of how horrible it would be to experience. it was why her friday nights were so important. she needed that weekly night of self-care and self-love. it kept her grounded and in lingerie, it was difficult to avoid feeling like the empowered, sensual, boss-ass lady she is.

new lingerie was always an event. she enjoyed browsing the stores waiting for something to catch her eye and she could never find the right words to explain how good she always felt wearing a set for the first time. but this week, she was still a bit thrown off by her latest addition to her collection. it was similar to the other sets she owned. she knew what looked good on her and she stuck to it. there was nothing she loved more than her breasts pushed together and her waist and hips hugged to show their beautiful curves off. she loved how soft they made her stomach look, how much sex they added to her pouch. this new set had all of that but still, it was a bold choice for her.

she always chose dark colours. deep aubergine purples, dark wine reds, classic blacks and emerald greens. she loved them all and the way they looked on her was devilish. she couldn’t deny it and neither could anyone who was lucky enough to see her in them. she shied away from the lighter colours, never thinking twice about her decision to.

that was until earlier that week. she wasn’t even sure what it was that had her searching for her size in the set that was laying on the bed in front of her. she adored the floral design in the lace and the way it shaped her body. it was so important to her that what she wore to be sexy embraced the extra parts of her and when she first tried this piece on, she could have cried how perfectly it did it. but now she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to put it on. she could hear her berry red set calling her name…

she shook the thought away. she wasn’t going to give into those thoughts that kept her in a bubble. that was a dangerous thing and she wasn’t about to stunt her growth when she’d already spent the money on it, and a decent amount to say the least. she bit her bottom lip and carefully put the set on. it was soft against her skin, so soft.

she pulled on a short, sheer black dressing gown that had silk detailing and poured herself a glass of wine. she hummed along to the sounds of ty dolla $ign that echoed from the corner of her room, swirling her hips carelessly. she held the television remote in her hands as she politely asked her google assistant to pause her music and draped herself over her bed, turning on her reality tv show of choice.

she didn’t know if it was this particular show or the red wine she was drinking but she was completely distracted from everything. her perfectly manicured nails were constantly dragging up and down the side of her thigh from where she laid. she traced the stretch marks that littered her upper thighs and let her nails sink deeper into her skin as they ran over the flesh of her ass. she couldn’t seem to stop. she just wanted to feel it, to have someone touch her.

the whiny voices from her television were ignored as she sat up. her phone sat alone in its forest green case on her dresser, begging her to use it. she considered it and knocked back the last splash on wine in her glass. the walk across her bedroom had never felt longer. she refused to rush, not wanting to give into the thought that she wanted someone, craved them even. she was perfectly fine on her own, it just might be nice to have some company if he was around; at least that was what she was telling herself.

she was happily surprised to see he had texted her no more than twenty minutes prior. it was a rather bland text, though she’d found he was often that way. not that she minded. she was never really one to text too much or do anything, so to speak, over text.

she was a direct person and the art of flirty-texting seemed to not involve to-the-point texts. too many people danced around the subject at hand when all she wanted was someone to say if they were on the same page or not. she figured that was probably why she liked him so much. he wasn’t going to mess around with asking what she was doing or imply that they should do something. if he wanted to see her, he would tell her.

she replied to his text with a simple greeting, just as he had her and waited for his reply. she spent the time between texts checking herself over in her mirror. the hesitation and uncertainty that she had felt earlier had completely disappeared. she liked the contrast the lighter colour had on her skin and she was again proven that she knew the style that did her justice. anyone would be lucky to lay eyes on her in a piece like this. fuck, she felt lucky to see herself in it.

he didn’t take too long to reply, he never did.

‘i wanna see you.’

she wondered what he was doing at that moment. did he want to see her the same way she wanted to see him? she could picture it now, him laying in his bed under the white duvet. his hand dangerously close to the waistband on his sweatpants, the material of it tightening as each second passed by. was he thinking about her hands on his body?

the dots showed on her screen when she finally looked down at her phone to reply but disappeared just as quickly as they appeared. it was a no-brainer to invite him around. she wanted to see him too.

his eta was half an hour. he wasn’t too far away but traffic on a friday night was always a nuisance. if anything, it gave her time to finish her show and have another glass of wine. she knew another glass would truly be one more and if she tried hard enough, she could be just as invested in her show as she was every other friday. so, with a pillow cuddled to her chest, she laid back on her bed and turned her focus back to her television. and she didn’t let it trail. for all of ten minutes.

with a deep sigh, she turned her tv off and scotted to the side of her bed, wine glass still in hand. her home-laptop was kept under her bed for purposes she didn’t like to speak aloud. of course, it wasn’t the only reason she used her home-laptop but during her busy months, it sort of was. which is why it wasn’t so surprising that when she opened its lid and logged in, a video resumed.

she decided she wouldn’t do anything but watch. there was nothing wrong with watching and it had seemed she’d stopped the video right at the best part. she set it back ten seconds and watched the remainder of the video whilst she finished her second glass.

the sound of skin-on-skin filled the room and muffled moans from both parties served as the song’s lyrics. she was content and silent as the scene played out. to the naked eye, she was unphased. but if one were to look closely, they would notice the occasional squirms and shock waves that were being sent through her core. when the first video ended, she simply clicked onto the next that caught her eye.

by the time her doorbell rung, she’d started to feel dizzy from all she was watching. the first glass of wine had been felt through her body but the second one had gone straight to her sex and it was as if she could see, hear and think of nothing else.

she almost forgot what she was wearing as she walked through her home to the front door. she undid the chain and unlocked it to find just who she wanted standing on the other side. his hands were tucked into the pockets of his grey sweatpants and the black graphic tee he wore made his shoulders seem broader than usual.

“hi.”

his voice was soft, shy as was the smile that followed. she returned it, their eyes not leaving one another.

“hi.”

her voice matched his, though not intentionally. she didn’t know how things could have built up and disappeared so quickly but then again, he looked different than she thought he would. more soft than sexy. not that she didn’t know how quickly that could change.

his eyes left hers to travel down her body after a moment of just staring at her. the first thing he had noticed about her was the crimson stain on her full lips. he knew instantly that it was from wine and the desire he had to taste was only topped by the desires that followed when he let himself drink in her body.

unlike each time before that they met, she wore pure white, lacy lingerie. his breath was taken from him as he fully took her in. never had someone looked so much like an angel before him and never had he ever wanted to touch someone more. he wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure if he had anything to say. he just wanted to look at her for a moment longer before he touched her.

tell me, what’s it like to kiss an angel…

from his pockets, his hands were pulled out and he reached for her neck and waist. he pulled her close, his head bent and gently, he kissed her. her lips were soft and sweet as always, the taste of her strawberry lip balm still lingered. licking into her mouth, he tasted the wine that stained her lips and tongue. she moaned quietly at the feeling of him and he knew they needed to be in her room. now.

they entered her room in a tangle, bumping into almost every piece of furniture they could as they walked. there was no real reason for them to part. he knew her apartment well and guessed he could walk it with his eyes closed. he just wanted to kiss her and touch her. he wanted to make her feel good and it was the only thing on his mind. that was until he heard, moaning?

he held his thumb to her lips and lifted his head, scanning her room for the source. she nipped at his thumb and giggled shyly, her cheeks flushed pink and not from the wine. she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to pause the video. it shouldn’t have been too hard to just push the lid close.

“what are you watching?”

his eyebrows were furrowed and a confused pout rested when he looked down at her. she smiled and held his rest. she pressed a delicate kiss to his pulse point and dropped their hands to be between them. she led him, walking backwards, to her bed and sat him down on the edge. his eyes never left her, not until she turned his head so he was facing her laptop.

to his surprise, a woman with ruined makeup was on all fours and a man whose face was not in frame was fucking her from behind. his jaw fell slightly and the snicker she covered with her hand didn’t go unnoticed. his expression was priceless. the pure shock, slight confusion and general what-the-fuck combined for something she’d keep in the back of her mind for a while to come. she couldn’t laugh about it now but she would later.

“oh.”

he turned his head back to look at her and she nodded her head. he went to speak again but she cut him off by kissing him. she held his face in his hands and let her nails drag on the back of his neck. his legs spread apart and his hands gripped on her hips, pulling her closer to him.

she tangled her hand in his hair as he guided her legs to straddle him. he sighed against her lips and together, they laid themselves down on the bed. his hands dragged down her thigh as she had imagined him doing earlier and gripped at her flesh. she was pleased by the feeling, humming and squirming on top of him.

it was a bit of a blur for how he became the one on top of her. her dressing gown had been shed before he pulled her on top of him and now she was pulling his t-shirt off. his lips landed on her neck once the material was gone. her hands racked down his back, feeling the contours while his lips left warm kisses. he didn’t spend much time on her neck, gently sucking as to not leave a mark on her sweet spot before trailing down to her chest.

he kissed the exposed skin of her breasts and cupped them through the lace with his hands. she gasped at the feeling, her body arching so her breasts were closer to his face. he rubbed his thumbs over her nubs and she whined, his lips still on her chest.

“more, more.”

she managed to get out between gasps, her hand in his messy hair. she wanted to feel him on her, not through her lingerie. when she’d first put the set on, she hadn’t wanted to take it off. now, it was the only thing on her mind.

“i’ll get there.”

his voice was calm but assertive and she found herself nodding her head, yes. as she swallowed, she became aware, once more, of the porn playing on her laptop. it was within her reach and she removed her hand from his back to close it. only for her to be stopped, her wrist pinned to the bed.

he was now hovering over her, looking down with darkened eyes and swollen lips.

“leave it.”

she, again, nodded her head yes. she was surprised though. she knew, just like everyone else, that he didn’t watch porn and had guessed he didn’t want their time together to be interrupted by it. she didn’t mind being wrong. there was something about it that excited her.

“okay.”

he smiled down at her. he let her wrist go and watched her move it back to rest on her stomach. his own hand reached for her thigh, propping it up so he could ease himself between her legs.

he kissed her and let himself push against her. their kisses had left the slow and steady place they’d started with and felt much more rushed. she spread her legs with the urgency, bringing him closer with the little power she had over him. she could feel him through his sweatpants and could see the print before he was on top of her. the thought of it was enough to make her melt.

he was so intoxicated by kissing her that he barely noticed her sitting up. she raised the two of them until she could reach between them. she dragged her hands down the toned muscles he took such pride in and only stopped when she had reached his waistband. she guided his lips away from her own and caught her breath while he kissed over her cheek, ear, jaw and neck.

the drawstrings were easy to untie blind but feeling for his member, both blind and through material, was not. when she had, he let out a sinful groan against her neck that sent her eyes rolling back. she bit her bottom lip and tried, as lightly as she could, to grasp him. his teeth skimmed her neck before he stood up, helping her to pull down both her sweatpants and his briefs.

now a heap on the floor, he was going to lean back down to kiss her only to see she’d sat up fully. her lips pressed to his chest and she looked up at him through thick lashes as she began to kiss down the plane of his stomach. her pastel nails dragged over his strong thighs and as her lips met his pubic bone, she picked him up in her hand. he was hard, concrete hard and she could feel her mouth watering. she couldn’t decide where she wanted him first but the precum that leaked from the tip told her so.

she wrapped her pretty lips around his tip and swirled her tongue to gather the clear substance. he moaned, his eyes closing at the sensation. his hand rested on top of her head, though he applied no pressure and took no control. she didn’t keep him in her mouth too long but spat on it as she pulled away. she dragged her hand up and down his shaft, gently kissing his tip before trailing kisses back up his torso. by the time she’d reached his mouth, he’d had enough of this teasing, especially because he could see the hand between her thighs.

he held her waist as he kissed her, the taste of her mouth different than before. he smirked, thinking just how nice he paired with wine. he turned her body in his hand like she was nothing and she let his cock drop. with her back to him, he laid her down on the bed, her ass staying propped up as he wanted.

“can you see your laptop okay?”

she turned her neck and checked but found it was at an awkward angle. he adjusted it slightly and waited for her approval. he didn’t want her to strain her neck.

“that’s perfect.”

she confirmed after a few adjustments. it was funny to him. the perfect angle for her just happened to be the perfect one for him too.

little was spoken as her panties were pulled down her legs. with the white lace removed, her throbbing sex was revealed in all its glory. she was wet and swollen like he’d never seen before. it excited him. he eased his thumb through her slits and rolled it gently over her clit. the sigh of sweet serenity she let out was music to his ears and he never wished to be starved of it.

moments like these were ones they savoured. busy schedules that never aligned led to very little time together. yet, the urgency of that night had caught up with their desires and he could barely wait another moment to be inside of her. his desires darkened his eyes and voice. he swore under his breath as he guided the tip of his cock through her folds, her arousal glistening on his member.

as he slid into her, he brought her hips up to meet his. she eased herself onto all fours and arched her back, pushing her hips even closer to his. he tilted his chin up and inhaled deeply. she was so tight around him, pulsating and hot on his cock. his view was one that dreams were made of. the white lace of her lingerie just looked so right. she was an angel and he got to have his way with her, however he wanted.

the sound of their skin smacking together soon filled the room, the smell of sex heightening as he fucked into her faster. her pleading words were divine as were her whiny moans. she just wanted him inside her and had never been so vocal about it. he loved hearing her beg. it was new, something he hadn’t heard before. it left him dumbstruck until he heard her plead louder. he gave her exactly what she was asking for.

“just like that baby, fuck i love it.”

he groaned at her words, his eyes rolling back as her pussy clenched around him. his eyes returned to where they met and he watched himself pull out of her before fucking back in. it was easy to see the effect he had on her. her pussy was creamy on his dick and he was determined to take it all from her. seeing it lit an urge that he couldn’t wait to itch. he wanted a taste.

he moved his left hand from where it gripped on her hip and rested it on top of the curve of her ass. he could feel the motion they’d created in the jiggle of her cheeks. he pushed down ever so lightly on the small of her back, pushing her ass further into the air and opening it to him. he licked his lips and very lightly let his thumb touch her other hole.

entering uncharted territory, he waited cautiously for a reaction. he expected a solid ‘no’, one that could not be argued with. but he was met with no protest. so, he spat directly on it and let his thumb rub circles over it, adding more pressure than before. she hummed in response, and lifted her front from the bed. she threw her head back and let a moan ring clear while her hips rolled against his.

“you’re just what this pussy needed.”

he let out an unmistakable groan at her words and looked over her body. what had seemed unclear about the lingerie piece she was wearing before, suddenly became very clear. he had wanted to take the top piece off when they’d first started but his mind was so muddled with lust, he could barely step one foot in front of the other. now, it seemed so obvious he felt almost stupid for not recognising it earlier.

his pace slowed as he focused more on his attention on removing the piece. it was taking a fair amount of brain power and though his stroke was still satisfying, she was trying to see what it was he had gotten distracted by. once it’s loose, it was discarded on the other side of her bed.

his rough fingertips dragged up her spine leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them. when he reached the top of her neck, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up so her back was to his chest. he nipped at her ear with his hand wrapped around her throat, his eyes focused to her breasts. her dark nipples were erect and swollen. he knew just how sensitive they were and wanted to play with them.

“touch me, touch me please, baby.”

she didn’t have to say anything more for him to know exactly what she wanted. he kissed her, their teeth clashing as they fought to be connected for longer. her chapstick lingered on his lips and she felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. their kiss is short and his tongue is quickly replaced with his long fingers. their eyes find one another as she sucks. he pulled them out once he was sure they were wet enough.

he showed no hesitation as he cupped her tit in his hand. he massaged her gently, feeling like a god with her so vulnerable in the palm of his hand. using his fingers that were wet from her spit, he grazed over her nipple. she gasped at the feeling and when he moved to pinch it, she cried out.

her panting breaths had her pressed flush against his front. he no longer needed to hold her in her place and with his stroke at such a slow pace, he could stay inside her easily. he let his hand fall down her body and left a gentle, loving touch against her pouch before he reached his destination in the junction between her thighs.

“oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

her cries could be heard outside all four walls and his fingers continued to work her pearl and breast. like a pleasant time-loop, he was surrounded by the cries of his name and pure bliss. the shake of her body built his ego. no one could ever say he didn’t know his way around a woman’s body. he could feel her on the edge of her big o and he knew if he kept at it, he’d have her melted on the floor without the need for a pale of water.

right when she was about to fall over, a verbal warning the final straw, he let her go and watched her fall onto her arms in front of him. he stayed still, a single bead of sweat rolling down his cheek as his chest heaved. he watched her catch her breath with greedy eyes. his mind was scattered. he was searching for what he wanted to do next but he knew he wouldn’t start again until her orgasm had mostly disappeared. it was questionable if it fully would as he was still inside of her; her pussy’s grip on him was almost important to pull out of.

she took a sharp inhale, her breathing somewhat regular and pulled herself up again. she turned her head to look back at him and offered him a smile. he looked beautiful at that moment. his toned torso was covered in a thin layer of sweat. he appeared to sparkle in the dull lighting of her room. she had never seen someone so intoxicating.

she opened her mouth to speak, a cocky smirk toying at the corner of her mouth. but before she could even form a sentence, he’d pulled his hips back and knocked the wind out of her. his large hands gripped tight on her hips. her cocky smirk turned to a smile of pleasure and with her eyes closed, she pushed back into him, humming at the feeling.

his pace was different than before. he’d slowed his hips, no longer thinking about speed, and was instead using them to find the spots within her that drove her crazy. the first few times he passed one by, she’d moan his name like a game of ‘hot & cold’ but instead of hot it was his four lettered name and instead of cold it was a low moan. he knew when he’d hit it though because she’d scream out his name and when he’d hit it once, it was difficult to miss again.

the control he had over her was short-lived when her hips started to meet his thrust. he encouraged it with a devilish smile and even offered her assistance. he grabbed onto her lower neck with both hands and helped force her back against his dick causing loud smacking sounds to greet them.

“give it to me baby, just give it all to me.”

her moans grew louder at his words and strangled sounds of his name fell from her mouth each time they met. he loved having her like this, loved seeing her ass bounce. the harder he forced her back on him, the more it jiggled and the louder she moaned.

his weaker hand released its grip on her neck and dragged down her back. her body reacted to his touch vocally, a sweet whine following his trail. he stopped at her ass and felt the plush flesh as they continuously slapped into one another. he hesitated for a moment before spanking, just to see her ass jiggle, just to see his handprint on her.

she felt dizzy at the sensation, almost unable to fully take notice of what he had done. when he did the same to her other cheek, she found herself cry out louder. she had the biggest smile pulled onto her face when his hands landed on her hips. the way he guided her body against his thrusts highlighted the way the knot in her stomach was beginning to unravel, and my, didn’t she love the rush it sent through her.

he knew it too. he’d become somewhat of an expert on her body during their time together and he could read her like no other. while she was usually a walking mystery, in the bedroom, he read her like an open book. it was an ego boost too and he was fishing for another.

“this my pussy, love?”

he asked, his voice dark and husky. the way he felt was almost completely hidden by the confidence in his voice, the cocky demeanor he’d acquired was a mask to it all.

“yes.”

her voice was breathless, barely above a whisper and nowhere near good enough for him. he asked again but this time, he dropped his hand beneath them to rub her clit. her body jolted forward at the added pressure and almost lost her composure.

“oh god, it’s your pussy. it’s your fucking pussy.”

he smirked as she yelled for the neighbours to hear. her body arched and he wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her back while their bodies sounded like a standing ovation.

“cum on my shit then, baby girl.”

he let go of her hair as the pet name left his lips and like a switch, she fell onto her forearms. her hips continued to meet his thrust but only for a few moments before she sung her song, letting him know she’d met her climax. she was wet against his cock and the lewd sounds her pussy made filled the air as she fell silent, her mouth agape in a silent scream.

“fuck, you just feel so good inside me.”

she glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him as he pulled out of her. she rolled over and raised to her knees so she could kiss him. his bottom lip was swollen pink from him biting back his moans. she couldn’t help but catch it between her lips, sucking and nibbling as she played with his hair. he was so caught up with her tongue in his mouth, he didn’t recognise her hand trailing down his body until she grabbed his dick in her hands.

he pulled back from the kiss, his head thrown back as she started to jerk him off. she bit her bottom lip as she watched his mouth open and close and his eyes flutter shut. he looked so handsome, she just wanted him all to herself.

his eyes returned to her when she let go of him. she waited for him to focus on her before she raised her hand and licked a straight line up her palm. her tongue was coated in the sweet and salty concoction that covered his dick. she moaned at the flavour, closing her eyes as she reached the same hand between her thighs to play in the mess they’d made.

he grabbed hold of her wrist before she could touch herself. his grip was tight, strong and stopped her train of thought abruptly. she stayed stationary, looking up at him with hooded eyes, begging him to tell her what to do.

“lay down.”

she nodded her head, eyes never leaving his as she laid back down. her hands dragged teasingly up her sides to rest at her breasts. she pushed them together the way she knew he liked and waited for his next move, challenging him in silence.

he pushed her legs apart slowly, exposing her hot, wet, pulsating pussy to him. she looked so pretty, no one dry part of her centre and inner thighs. he ran a finger through her folds. her body twitched as he bumped into her clit and she sighed when he removed his finger to suck her juices off.

“you taste so good.”

he lowered his head, dangerously close to where she needed him most. his hot breath fanned over her, causing her skin to tingle in anticipation. instead, his lips landed on the pouch of her stomach. he kissed over the angel trails that littered her skin and began to leave an angel trail of his own up her body. he stopped only when he reached her breasts.

he grabbed a handful of each and took her peak into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves while his thumb rolled the other. he switched between the two and watched as she squirmed under him, his name floating around as a gasp and a moan.

once he was satisfied, he sat back and looked over her naked body. she was a sight to see, his aphrodite in all her beauty. he licked his bottom lip as he started to jerk himself, his chest rising and falling at a quicker pace. she smiled up at him in a way he somehow knew she only gave him. he positioned his tip at her entrance and looked up at her, searching her face for any sign of uncertainty.

“you ready?”

“yes.”

he reentered her warm hole at her confirmation and they both let out a content moan. he circled her clit with his thumb as he started to thrust into her, each time their hips connected, their moans mixed together.

at first, his thrusts were slow and steady. he was savour the way she felt around him and was determined to make her come again. it was easier for him to focus on her clit with a slow pace. but that was only at first. when her pussy started gripping and clasping around his cock, he lost his patience.

he was no longer doing this for her. it was all about him.

her hands dragged down his back as his hips quickened, her nails leaving red streaks over his skin. he was fully on top of her now and she preferred it. every moan and groan that escaped his lips went directly in her ear. her eyes almost rolled back each time he fucked into her and hearing him was like the cherry on top.

as his thrusts came faster, her cries grew louder. the urgency and new roughness in his movements made it clear to her that what he was doing, was now for him. she quite liked the thought, that he was using her to feel good. the more she pondered it, the wetter she got. he was taking what he needed from her, using her body to reach his peak. he no longer cared for making her feel good and somehow, that made her feel even better.

he’s close, she could feel it in the stutter of his hips and his sloppier stroke. he could barely get anything out, a broken i’m was all that fell from his plump lips. his mind was going fuzzy as the knot in his lower stomach was nearing its breaking point.

“give it to me.”

she cried out, her nails dragging down his back and breaking through clouds to focus his vision. her legs were beginning to shake and her voice was cracking. he fought through the rush and didn’t slow himself.

“give it to me daddy.”

•••

thank you so much for reading, hope you enioyed!!

#cnco #joel pimentel #cnco imagines #joel pimentel imagines #cnco fics #joel pimentel smut #cnco smut #joel pimentel fics #sweet nothings #nameless fics #this is technically the first cnco fic ive ever written #sorry it's so long... i really did not mean it to be #v writes

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shantiesofthegar · 3 years

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When the Last Ship's Launched

[A song of mourning that's a combination of 1) a lamentation of the troopers that have died in the war; 2) a condemnation of their in between legal state of a little bit more than property, but still not their own being; 3) their mixed views on the war ending - because they were literally made for the war, and don't exactly know how they will fit in the galaxy once there's no real need for the GAR in its current iteration.]

Potentially it goes a little like this:

They ask me where I'm from, Don't know, but say Kamino. And there upon their watered sun, You'll find your troopers there A numbered lot, forgotten, lost, Beneath those waves do roam. Those nameless men still are our friends and the Last Ship they do board

And they say the war is ending boys, they say it's all been fought But no matter what, that war's not won till that Last Ship has been launched

No homeworld yet will claim us, Coruscant will lose its guard (GAR) The Hutts won't soon enslave us and with Jedi we've travelled far. And though ourselves we've named, the numbers leave their scars And so we'll board that Last ship too And venture cross the stars

And they say the war is ending boys, they say it's all been fought But no matter what, that war's not won till that Last Ship has been launched

And my brothers keep on marching past Umbara’s darkened lands. They go and board Republic ships, with drinks all in their hands. And amidst their merry making, our brothers cannot stand And so he’ll wait for that Last Ship, and wait for that command.

And they say the war is ending boys, they say it's all been fought But no matter what, that war's not won till that Last Ship's been launched

Amidst the parts of clankers, There's one trooper they forgot. He waits alone, for the chance to go home; but his waiting’s all for naught And so I stand here wondering; If that war has really been fought. It can't be ending. It hasn't been won. The Last Ship's not been launched.

I think this captures the general gist of it, feel free to like tag onto it or add your own verses

-Jo

#clone shanties #Jo writes (on occasion)#I've got a couple more in the workshop #Or in the hangar bay if you want a joke #Even though they're just a couple lines of maybe the chorus #Might post them up as they are later or wait a bit to have them a bit more refined

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kzbrandt · 3 years

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The Shadow

It will come for us all at one point or another, rejection, doubt, failure… The Darkness is here. This virus is only the beginning, she has many faces. Plague, Influenza, Covid-19, starvation, corruption and so on. She is the faceless, the nameless lurking everywhere and no where, she gave birth to night, leaving only one light to reign under the day.

The twelve have Gathered, but a Reckoning warms the horizon, a smothering, burning yearning… If you close your eyes and listen for the wind, you can hear the sound of destiny breaking decades of silence. Now, when your eyes peel back the blindness, the long lost mother Earthenia is salivating in divine femininity. Ascending from dirt and sand, the first beasts prowled, still drawing breath in the obscurity of the wild. The shadow has descended and it is but a finger of what lies ahead.

I think back to simpler times, back at the drafting table, where life began at the mere stroke of my hand. Few know my name and even fewer conscious of its existence, but still, there is one who will come to gain such a power. A true mystery is a rare gift, especially when one knows almost everything. Even as curious as my aching mind grows, I worry for all of you, my creations. How will you fair in such perilous waters?

As the Creator, I am responsible for a great many things. Contrary to popular belief, many divines are not without imperfection. The most pristine landscape is riddled with flaws. Human or god-gifted in the end we rise the same. To rise a mountain, first we must meet the flood.

I remember every seed I’ve ever grown, teaching this skill to only one other, there is no greater joy than cultivating life. Some I plant, others I mold with clay from the Vale. Murky and Earthen in color, it glows with a bright, white light, powered by the Ancients essence, springing life eternal. Each bloodline has strength, big or small, the past can never be forgotten.

Of all my memories, the most unforgettable was the maiden queen. Monarch butterflies flock to their beautiful mother, as did I. Alas, a fatal mistake I would come to mourn for centuries. There was a time long ago, when as a young boy was unrestrained and unrefined. I loved and lusted for artistry, power and creation. I got swept away by the pleasure and trivial aspirations. I forgot who I was meant to be.

In doing so, a small shadow was unleashed from he Abyss, a dominion of emptiness and horror, a universe of nightmares. It only took one time, one mistake, and I opened the door across the realms and invited a single spore of Darkness and she grew.

After pulling back each grisly layer, I was surprised to find a woman, comely in nature. Cloaked in mystique, she still remained nameless. How could she elude me so easily? If I recall correctly, she spoke only once.

“I must find my sister,” and like a vacuum in outer space, all of her opaque shrouds were suctioned back. A sister, a twin? This thought has burdened me for eons. Soon to be a lifelong obsession, I had to know as Creator, what I brought into this verse. If there were answers I needed to find them.

Falling back to where it all began, I found myself on the Isle of Ness, where there are no beginnings or endings, the story here is ever-flowing. You may have heard of it, many in the past called it Eden. A great crime was committed forcing the retreat of all mortals, but more on that another time. This is the residence of the remaining Elders, the ones who managed to cling to immortality. This floating island could not be seen by human eyes or felt with such fragile hands, it was an impossibility. It is a realm within a world, location of the first sin and lost things.

Whenever the script gets too cluttered and chaotic, I like to start new and wet my quill with fresh ink. There were thoughts that needed to be satisfied. For starters, what was the Darkness? I deduced that it wasn’t pure malevolence, there was something more. Whoever she may be, a tragic, scarred tale was waiting to unfold.

Humanity was consummated with greed, selfishness, survivalism and corruption. But, there was also love, compassion, selflessness and a humor that kept you going, even in the darkest of times. As an older man now, I can look back and see the true gift in mortality is the brittleness of it all. In one second everything you hold dear could vanish, this makes life that much more precious. How can one really appreciate this if they’ve never had a shelf-life or expiration date? If death never comes knocking, do we even glance at the door?

With the modern age comes many magnificent wonders, but it lacks the true knowledge of how things really began. The first beings go by many names, and they are the cosmic designers you’ll never see. The old ways can be both worshiped and abhorred. There was a time when things were very different, well before the age of Síandra. I wish I could tell you what happened, but this is yet another fabric of history ripped away. For thousands of years, I did nothing but search and study all the way from Taboo to the Abyss. Once the Isle of Ness went missing, things became significantly more complicated.

It’s a gamble for sure, risking it all to have faith in one unique soul. The Golden one, the key, a wick to light up the dark, if she can learn my name maybe all creation can be saved. To see my children full of such corruption and e useless is a fate worse than death. I am a father first. There was only one other place that might ail my torment.

The great tree of knowledge, Ymir, husband to Ymira and virility of all barken-folk, was my answer. Constructed from my hand, he was a painting that filled me with such joy. The ingredients were tricky, blood, oak, willow, half of Ymira’s heart, and saliva from my own mouth. A wonder for the ages still written about today. Bonded by blood and bone, out tether couldn't be severed. His story I knew too well.

Seeing Ymir was dangerous and a near impossible journey to any who sought the truth. Down the rabbit hold under Lycanthrope Dr. lies a doorway. An old portal leading to the Vale. A land seldom traveled, even rarer still was for anyone to return. Nothing was solid in the realm of spirits, a path you started on may change or cease to be. The Vale will claim us all one day, ever-thirsting , always desiring another soul, mine included. If ever I should fall, my immaculate energy would swim ashore and embrace the afterlife, drinking Valean tree wine with my kin, Ymir. How we would rejoice deep in irrevocable peace.

Of course, if this ever happened the universe would be thrown too far, unlikely to recover. Apocalypse would rise up, ready to maim and ensnare. What happens to the body once the heart stops beating? The feelings of all flow inside, the suffering and turmoil as well as happiness and determination. Blood pouring from too many, some wielding the knife on themselves. How can I judge them, when I think of it also? So much responsibility, an entire universe weighing down on my shoulders. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. How can I ever discard it when so many continue to cry out?

I will never give up on mankind, though we wear many faces, we are the same. Put down the hatred and open your eyes. For what comes will destroy everything, unless you care enough to change it. Until we meet again…

Sincerely, your Creator.

A note from KZ: Like what you see check out my short film of the shadow on my you tube channel (

https://youtu.be/9NVLCajZ3vM

) , maybe go a step further and find The Gathering on Amazon under KZBrandt. Thanks for visiting!

ᔓKZBrandtᔕ

#DarkeningUniverse fantasy The Gathering writers Saturday imagination

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persephoneshellhounds · 5 years

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wait for me on the concert grounds of the bands we don't even listen to; wait for me 'til you find yourself singing to the second verse of a rock song you hear for the first time — that one is gonna be our song, darling.

wait for me in old malls and museums people no longer come to; wait for me on the forgotten stairs 'til you see my ragged old skool and my bad, orange hair parting the crowd to give you my bear hugs.

wait for me in coffee shops that play my favorite songs; wait for me with that black coffee in hand 'til i arrive an hour later to appease you with kisses that smell like subways cause they're what i give best.

wait for me in busy, city streets valleyed by nameless skyscrapers; wait for me in strangers' cars at 5 am 'til a sunray hits my face a meter across from where you are.

wait for me by the shore, where promises are lost in the sea spray; where the starless skies can watch me drown in the scent of your hair when the sea is right before us.

wait for me, darling — wait for me until we no longer have to say our i love you's through calls and texts but in front of each other. wait for me until you no longer find an "i have to go" note at three am but my arms, wrapped around your body and my lips planted on your neck.

wait for me, darling — wait for me until we no longer miss each other more often than not, and until the only waiting we'll do is you, waiting for me to get off work, and me, waiting for you to wake up.

wait for me until the moment you find me there, next to you; wait for me until your home becomes my home, and until all we'll have to wait for are delayed flights and underrated movies to start and dishes served late and our hand, finding each other instantly after seconds of being away.

wait for me darling — wait for me until i'm there forever,

and until we no longer have to wait.

— fray narte

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mahvaladara · 5 years

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Nevermore

Synopsis: Nataniel tries to woe a Raven with poetry by Edgar Alan Poe.

Nevermore

Matt's eyes fell on his friend as he sat by the window, a pencil stuck between his teeth as his eyes skimmed over the many pages of the book in his hand, silently reciting to himself the words. He could hear the soft whispering, as simply reading with his eyes was not enough for Nataniel, he needed to feel each letter roll on the tip of his tongue. Matt knew well DellaSanta preferred to read out loud, but as they were in the local library, at night, technically breaking an entering, it was best to keep quiet.

Tapping caught the attention of the two men, and quickly they looked towards the window. A large common raven perched on the window sill, on the overhanging window garden. Black beak and lustrous feathers reflecting the moonlight. DellaSanta set down the book he was holding, on the inner sill on the window. He twirled the pencil in his fingers, setting it on top of the pages of his book, something about wormhole theory.

"Nevermore," he mumbled, a small smile on his lips.

Yes! Matt mentally celebrated the so awaited moment. He had heard Nataniel recite poetry, quote philosophers and layout scientific facts. The Call of Cthulu, the Spirits of the Dead, the Theory of Ropes, the formation of the Universe, Kardecism and Spiritism and so many other doctrines. But it was since DellaSanta had quoted Edgar Allan Poe, that Matt was dying for this moment, the moment he'd recite from memory the poem of the Crow, or Raven, or whatever it was called.

Yes, Matt could just easily read the poem, couldn't be that long. But no, Matt wasn't about to read Edgar Allan Poe, not when he could hear it, be recited by honeyed sultry voice, soft velvet with a hint of an accent.

" Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more."

There came the first verses as Nataniel placed the palm of his hand gently against the window, tapping painted nails against the glass. The Raven jumped about, turning to face him. Black orbs locking onto DellaSanta's own golden eyes.

" Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore— Nameless here for evermore."

The raven watched him, as entranced as Matt himself was. There was something spell-like, ethereal about his friend's golden eyes and the way he'd speak such words. An intonation as alluring as a snake charmer's flute. He'd say it was not the music that attracted the snake but the movement, but he felt as charmed like a snake by his friend's voice. It was a complete lie if he said DellaSanta's voice didn't have something almost vampiric to it. Everything about Nataniel would make Matt question himself, and Nataniel had told him once, told him twice, to ignore it wholly.

"Ever read Tomie, by Junji Ito? I know you don't read books, but it's a comic, so perhaps you'd feel more interested about it," once Nataniel had asked when Matt asked him about these odd characteristics that made Nataniel so unnaturally alluring. "A woman so beautiful everyone wanted to love her. So vile, everyone wanted to destroy her. I often wonder if I am like Tomie. I certainly do not consider myself vile, but I do not pretend for one second to be ignorant of the effects I have on people or deny that I do use these to my advantage."

As he ran his fingers down the glass, the bird watched as he stopped the finger by the lock of the window. Very slowly and carefully he opened the window. The nightly breeze filled the room and the Raven jumped into the line that divided the outside from the room. Nataniel snapped his tongue, the bird looked up at him.

" Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door— Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door— Perched, and sat, and nothing more."

Matt felt entranced, like watching a spell in action, and enchantment of a bird so intelligent, as it silently watched DellaSanta. The man placed his hand in front of the raven, still reciting the poetry to the bird, palm upwards, the scars glistening under the moonlight, inviting the bird to take perch on his open palm. A smile crept to Nataniel's lips.

" Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore— Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven "Nevermore." "

With the word, in answer, the bird cawed, lowering its head and looking sideways up at the man, jumping closer to the hand, before inspecting it slowly.

Clattering filled the room, causing the bird to startle and fly away, out into the darkness it came from. Nataniel covered his eyes from the dust of its wings, lowering his arm slowly to watch the bird fly away with a solemn almost disappointed look.

He finally looked towards the source of the noise, Matt following, Tilly held a series of books in her hands, Cara following her and shaking her head.

"Sorry!" Tilly yelped.

"Nevermore," Nataniel chuckled shaking his head and looking out into the night. He sighed and closed the window.

DellaSanta gave a quick stretch to his arms, the armband sliding with his muscles and readjusted it to cover the wound on his arm. Quickly he rushed down to meet Tilly, bending next to her to help her gather her bearing.

"Tilly! You ruined my perfect attempt at wooing a raven! I was so close to having the delightful bird perch on my hand," he laughed.

"What?! A raven?" She asked.

"DellaSanta, we're in the middle of a murder investigation and you're reciting poetry to birds?" Cara scolded him shaking her head and walking to meet Matt, she set the books in front of Matt who grumbled annoyed.

"I cannot expect you to understand the idiosyncrasies of a bird as intelligent and fascinating as a raven, KAREN," Nataniel rolled his eyes and helped Tilly get up.

"CARA!" She corrected. "Culo!"

"Language," he winked. "It's certainly not the lovely Lenore."

"Quoth the Raven, Nevermore!" Matt smiled, contempt, he'd finally got to hear the poem.

"One of these days, I'll finish the poem for you."

"Wait?! You mean there's more?!" Matt asked surprised, his dreams shattered.

"Oh, a lot more. Poe was not known for the brevity of the soul."

#nataniel dellasanta #the strange cases of nataniel dellasanta #my writting

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kusunogatari-a · 6 years

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[ SasuHinaMonth Day Sixteen: Amnesia ] [ @sasuhinamonth ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ]

The Sharingan grants its user photographic memory when the dōjutsu is enabled. It captures every detail, no matter how minute, with stunning clarity. In a young, fresh mind, these memories can be called upon without loss of quality. It is this recall that allows an Uchiha (or any lucky enough to find themselves in possession of such an eye) to mimic any jutsu without flaw...to a point. Like all things, it has its limitations.

...and its weaknesses.

“...all right?!”

“...rauma to the…”

“...ble blindness…”

When he wakes...his world is black.

Too lethargic to move, he lies in silence and stillness for a time before he’s conscious enough to wonder where he is. A hand lurches from his side atop the hospital cot (how many times has he occupied one of these now?), swaying before fumbling at his face. There’s the texture of gauze beneath his fingertips, covering the dips of his eyes. Part of him wants to try and remove them...but he knows better. She’ll scold him for that.

...where is she?

With an awakened pulse, it’s not long before someone steps into the room to check on him, affirming he is indeed conscious. “Wait just a moment - I’ll fetch your attending medic. And we’ll send a notification to your wife.”

...wife?!

It takes a few moments to sink in, the nurse gone before Sasuke sits up with the force of his panic. He...he can’t have a wife! He’s twelve! Surely they aren’t jokingly referring to Sakura, are they? If they let her in here, he’ll -!

“Oh thank the gods.”

A voice - familiar yet...somehow changed - filters through his ears. “...what...what happened?” How long has he been unconscious? His voice sounds awfully deep – is he really that tired?

“You were in a scuffle just outside the village. According to your team, a flash bang went off a few feet from your face. I’ve healed the damage to your skin, but...your Sharingan was active. You took the full flare of light, and it’s damaged your eyes. I’m working on mending them, but...it’s slow going.” The person steps closer, a hand resting gently on his shoulder. “...how do you feel?”

“I…” He hesitates. “...I don’t remember that fight. Or that mission. Where’s Kakashi-sensei?”

There’s a tick of silence, and he can sense her confusion. “...he’s...at his office. There have been a few times he’s checked in on you, but he’s been terribly busy. Kumo is coming later this week for new trade negotiations. Remember?”

Doing his best to steady his breath, Sasuke thinks that over. Kakashi...in an office? Since when do jōnin work in an office? And Kumo...aren’t they on shaky terms with them, given that situation a few years ago with that Hyūga girl? “...another medic said they were...bringing someone?”

“Yes - Hinata will be here soon. It figures you’d wake with her gone. She’s barely left your side, you know.”

...wait...Hinata? The little Hyūga? “...what about...Naruto? Sakura?”

“They’ve been in and out, but are admittedly pretty busy. Sakura has been handling the rest of your squad. The injures were pretty serious. As for Naruto...who knows what he’s up to? He’s anywhere and everywhere most days, lately.”

“Okay...w-wait.” He holds up a placating hand, heart starting to race. “I...w-what’s the date?”

Silence. “...it’s May. May seventh.”

“...I…” How does he ask this without sounding insane? “...how old am...am I?”

This time, the quiet stretches on for longer. There’s a curse under her breath. “...Sasuke, do you not remem-?”

“Sasuke?!”

Behind them, the door wrenches open in time with a voice. Startling, he recoils as a body softly impacts with his. Who -? -What -?!

“Oh thank goodness! I’ve been so worried - I told them you were going to wake soon. Your chakra was starting to shift! Of course when I leave you w-wake up...how do you feel? Are you painful at all? In your eyes? Anywhere else?”

“Hinata…”

The pressure around him slackens slightly, though his own tension remains rigid. “...what?”

“I...I need to talk to you.”

“...why? What’s wrong? Is -?”

“Please, just...step out with me for a moment. Okay?”

A strained silence follows, and then two sets of footsteps sound until the room goes quiet with a clack of the door.

...what...the hell...was that? Who was touching him? Why…? It...it did sound like that weird girl from his Academy class, but...deeper, slightly. Different.

...something is very, very wrong.

Cradling his brow in his hands, Sasuke leans forward, bowed over his lap as he struggles to think. He has to stay calm. It’s strange...it’s like the last few weeks are...blurry, getting worse as he gets closer to the present. Otherwise, it’s the same as it’s always been. Annoying D-ranks with his team, down time at home, training whenever he gets the chance. He recalls nothing of a mission involving a flash of light. And everything else that’s been said...Kakashi in an office, Sakura...taking care of people? Naruto loose on his own, and...he has...a wife.

...has he...lost part of his memories?

The notion is terrifying. How much has he lost? If he’s...married, then...surely a number of years. What...eight or so, at least? What has he forgotten?

...and...who…?

Outside the door, he can hear muffled voices. One sounds strained - on the verge of crying. The other attempts to be consoling...but is clearly just as distraught.

Then it goes quiet...and the door opens. The same two footsteps return, slightly muted in their pace.

“...Sasuke...I need you to tell me the last thing you remember.”

“...I…” He can’t pick much out of the recent blurs.

“...how old are you?”

“...twelve…?” Has his birthday gone by since things started to get foggy? “...t...thirteen?”

He hears someone take a small, but curt breath.

“...I see.” A heavy sigh. “Sasuke, I...I think the damage you suffered to your eyes must have affected your brain. You were in the middle of a fight with an enemy. Surely you had your Sharingan active...maybe…” A pause, as though hesitating. “...maybe that light, exposed to the memory-gathering aspect of your kekkei genkai...damaged the part of your brain responsible for memories. I...hadn’t considered that possibility. I haven’t checked.”

“...how...how old am I, really…?”

“...twenty-one.”

He thinks he might be sick.

A weight settles along the side of his cot, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “...I might be able to reverse this. I’ve yet to evaluate that part of your brain - I didn’t know I needed to. I know saying this won’t do much, but...try to stay calm. I’ll do all I can to make this right.”

Jaw shaking, he takes a few clipped breaths through his nose. Then, in a tiny voice, he admits, “...I’m scared.”

The figure beside him wilts. “...I need to consult Tsunade-sama. Once we have a plan, we’ll give you an examination. See what’s going on in your brain. And...go from there.” A pause. “...is it all right if Hinata stays with you while I’m gone?”

...is it? He hardly knows her, and yet...unless this is one huge, horrible practical joke...she’s his wife. “...I guess.”

“Hold on. I’ll be back soon.” Fingers give his shoulder a squeeze before retreating.

Silence.

Eventually, light footsteps sound, and he can hear a chair being moved, settling at his bedside. “...Sasuke…”

No response.

“...I’m sorry, this...must be so strange. I guess...we didn’t really know one another back then...did we?” Hinata seems to fade into thought. “...I know I...m-might be making you uncomfortable. But I’m just so w-worried about you, I…!”

He sits stock still, listening. The emotion in her voice stirs something in him - a vehement panic. Not because it unnerves him, but...it’s wrong. He doesn’t want her to feel so upset…! But why? They’re strangers!

...maybe there’s still something. A whisper of an imprint of what she meant to him.

He hears a shaky sigh. “...if...if you want, I can go. I don’t...I don’t w-want to bother you. I know this must all be so confusing, and -”

“Stay.”

She fumbles to a stop. “...are...are you sure?”

“...yeah.” His head turns slightly toward her voice. “...I don’t remember you, or...at least, what’s happened since...we were genin. But...you must have come to mean something to me. I wouldn’t marry just anyone…” It’s his turn to take a trembling breath. “...maybe...if you do mean that much to me...having you here will help.”

A pause, and then, “...all right. I’ll stay. No matter what...I’ll stay.”

Word count: 1427 Cumulative: 20,271 Phew, managed to get caught up! It’s after midnight, but before bedtime - that counts as on-time, right? xD This one has a bit of a special guest (which has been hinted at in others), but for now we’ll leave them nameless. After all, they aren’t the focus. I do rather like this idea: it might be something I play with as a concept later on down the road - who knows! But for now, I’m gonna try to catch up a bit on my RP blog, and then call it a night. Hopefully I won’t need another catch-up day anytime soon!

#sasuhinamonth #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #sasuhina #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#sasuhinamonth2018 #shmonth2018

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woodworkingpastor · 3 years

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Covid-19 and our faith in ourselves: a question of mental health -- Psalm 88 -- Sunday, September 26, 2021

A gymnast’s courage

At the 2019 U.S. Gymnastics Championships, Simone Biles accomplished something that no one else in the history of the universe has ever done: the “triple-double.” She sprinted across the mat, leaped into the air backwards to do two back flips while twisting three times before landing safely. It is a thing to behold—I suspect most of us would have to watch the video multiple times in slow motion to figure out how many flips and twists are there.

youtube

You probably remember that her experience at this year’s Summer Olympics was difficult. After an early vault attempt went awry, Biles withdrew from nearly every other event because of something called the twisties: a condition where your brain and your body get disconnected, and skills that should be deeply stored in muscle memory suddenly become unfamiliar. During the vault in question, she said, “I lost track of where I was in the air.”

When asked why she thought the twisties emerged, Biles mentioned that there were some triggers: the extra year of intense training due to the one-year delay in the Olympic games; and the pressure of being the public face of the US Olympic team—including the expectations that came along with that. With her recent testimony before Congress about the sexual abuse she experienced by women’s gymnastics team trainer Larry Nassar, one has to think that was part of her struggles as well. As super-human as Simone Biles seems to be, it can be easy to forget that at the end of the day, she is simply a human being who is not immune to the difficulties and pressures of life.

One of the saddest commentaries on her experience came from those who criticized her for withdrawing from her events. No one would have criticized her if she would have landed awkwardly during an event and twisted an ankle. Because her injury wasn’t visible, some missed the courage of the choice she made.

Covid-19, one more time

This is the second of two sermons prompted by the Covid-19 pandemic. We’ve spent focused a lot of energy over the last 18 months on social distancing, because we want to “keep people safe.” But social distancing has created some problems as well. Isolation from other people and the absence of meaningful routines and rituals has presented real challenges for people’s mental health. For people who live alone, for people who live in urban apartment buildings without easy access to nature, to people with existing mental health diagnoses, to people with dementia and their caregivers, social distancing has added a difficult layer to already difficult times.

It has also been a difficult season for those who are carrying extra responsibilities in their jobs: teachers and medical professionals, to name two. Covid-19 and our response to it has added stress to our lives in many different ways.

Mental illness: the “non-casserole disease”

All of this leads me to talk this morning about mental health. Let me be very up front with one thing: I am not trained as a counselor or therapist, so I want to be careful to not speak beyond my knowledge. Within that, pastors are often the first person someone comes to when they’re struggling with something, and I am happy to meet with people and talk and pray about what they are facing. But it also important to emphasize the necessity of mental health treatment, to refer people to trained counselors and doctors who can provide that treatment.

As Simone Biles’ experience revealed, we often treat mental illness differently from physical illness. Some call mental illness the “non-casserole disease.” If someone has surgery, or experiences the death of a loved one, then we respond in particular ways. But how do we respond to someone living with long-term mental health diagnoses? How long after the death of the loved one do we keep taking the casserole, or sending the sympathy card, or checking in? And what if the mental health diagnosis doesn’t have such an obvious cause? What then?

Mental health is a common issue in our society. According to the World Health Organization, it is estimated that just under 4% of persons experience depression (about 5 in our congregation at any given time). That’s just one mental health diagnosis. We could also talk about bipolar disorder or schizophrenia and other psychoses. We might include the challenges presented by dementia—both to the individual and to the one caring for them. There are those who self-medicate with alcohol or other drugs. How many times do we write such persons off as “addicts” without understanding the suffering they experience?

Beyond that, there are plenty of reputable sources that chronicle mental health occurrences and give estimates of how prevalent they are.

As I noted, Simone Biles’ struggles with the twisties was more complicated than just a mental health issue because her story also includes the trauma of sexual abuse. None of us know how the various factors she named work together in her—she might not even know. We do know that the impact of traumatic experiences stick with us. Many of us have had very difficult things happen to us. When we are surrounded by people who love and care for and nurture us, then we can often function well—humans are resilient creatures. But when the trauma is inflicted by someone who was supposed to be taking care of us, it can become impossible to integrate that into our experience. Our minds and our bodies retain that experience, and it can become a source of struggle throughout our lives.

Adding insult to injury are the unhelpful ways we respond to persons dealing with mental illness. This includes the way people accused Simone Biles of cowardice instead of recognizing her courage; it might also look like someone saying the answer to your mental health struggle is that you “just need to pray more” or “there must be some hidden sin in your life that is causing these things.” Would we tell that to someone who had fallen and broken their wrist? Of course not. These responses reveal people taking mental illness less seriously than physical illness.

The blessing of a difficult Psalm

The Bible takes struggles like these very seriously. I am continually reminded of the importance of maintaining a regular connection with the Psalms, because when we move past our two or three favorite Psalms and consider the messages and experiences presented in all 150, we discover a Biblical vocabulary for prayer to meet all of life’s circumstances. Psalm 88 recognizes the deep struggles that come to someone who feels that their troubles have left them beyond any source of help in this life and the next.

There is no explicit indication that Psalm 88 describes mental illness—some commentators ponder a connection to Alzheimer’s disease; others wonder if these are the experiences of an abused woman. The cause of the suffering isn’t the issue; what matters is that someone is struggling with an extremely difficult situation and are met with silence from both God and everyone else. But even feeling abandoned by God has not made prayer impossible.

The presence of this Psalm in the Bible is permission to lament and protest. It is OK to bring these things to God in prayer; we need not suffer in silence.

And what a lament it is! The most anguished parts of the Psalm are found in verses 5 and 12. In verse 5, the Psalmist says they feel like those “forsaken among the dead,” of having lost the blessing of living a long life and being properly buried, instead having their body discarded along the road or unceremoniously dumped into a mass-grave to be forever nameless and forgotten.

In verse 12, these feelings of being cut off emerge again, wondering if God’s power is available to those who live “in the land of forgetfulness.” What a lonely sounding place.

The writer of this Psalm is deep in the despair of abandonment: there seems to be no help, there is no one cares, and God is silent. The Psalmist cries out to God, but God doesn’t answer. It might be that the Psalm’s most powerful moment is found in its unresolved ending: the Psalm ends abruptly in verse 18, leaving us wondering—like so many do—if the prayer made it to God’s ears, or if it simply bounced off the ceiling. Were the last verses of this Psalm lost? Or was it intentionally ended here to further communicate the cut-off feeling expressed by the one offering the prayer?

How do we pray when there is no resolution? Life’s issues aren’t normally resolved when we get to the end of the worship service, or devotional reading, or conversation, or even a session with a counselor. The struggle goes on. What this Psalm offers to us is that the recognition that suffering is part of our human experience and talking about it is sanctioned by God in the vocabular of prayer.

Our response: sitting in the silence

One response from the church is to not forget those who struggle in seeming silence and to be a companion for those whose experience seems shrouded in darkness. We can reach out and be present to those suffering in “the land of forgetfulness.”

Someone has written a helpful piece about the importance of supporting others in their mental health struggles, setting it in the world of Winnie the Pooh. Perhaps you’ve read it before:

It occurred to Pooh and Piglet that they hadn’t heard from Eeyore for several days, so they put on their hats and coats and trotted across the Hundred Acre Wood to Eeyore’s stick house. Inside the house was Eeyore.

“Hello Eeyore,” said Pooh.

“Hello Pooh. Hello Piglet,” said Eeyore, in a glum sounding voice.

“We just thought we’d check in on you,” said Piglet, “because we hadn’t heard from you, and so we wanted to know if you were okay.”

Eeyore was silent for a moment. “Am I okay?” he asked, eventually. “Well, I don’t know, to be honest. Are any of us really okay? That’s what I ask myself. All I can tell you, Pooh and Piglet, is that right now I feel really rather sad, and alone, and not much fun to be around at all. Which is why I haven’t bothered you. Because you wouldn’t want to waste your time hanging out with someone who is sad, and alone, and not much fun to be around at all, would you now.”

Pooh looked at Piglet, and Piglet looked at Pooh, and they both sat down, one on either side of Eeyore in his stick house.

Eeyore looked at them in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“We’re sitting here with you,” said Pooh, “because we are your friends. And true friends are there for you, even if you’re feeling sad, or alone, or not much fun to be around at all. And so here we are.”

“Oh,” said Eeyore. “Oh.” And the three of them sat there in silence, and while Pooh and Piglet said nothing at all; somehow, almost imperceptibly, Eeyore started to feel a very tiny little bit better.

Because Pooh and Piglet were there.

No more; no less.

#Youtube

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quebracabeca · 3 years

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@youtriggeredmytrapcard has sent: 💭 [[For Yami?]]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 💭 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝚨 𝐓𝚮𝐎𝐔𝐆𝚮𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝚮𝚨𝐒 𝚮𝚨𝐃 𝚨𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒. [Accepting mutuals]

“Right, so. He’s our classmate, he studies with us and gets the same assignments as all of us... I don’t quite recall the last time I saw him in there... When was it? Isn’t there something about having to attend a certain amount of classes? I thought that was how school worked...”

#; ic #verse • nameless & forgotten but not lost #he is bringing in the real queSTIONS...#thank you for the ask!#youtriggeredmytrapcard

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airglowed · 6 years

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ive probably already sent this to u ➳ cas n baby obviously

two. au / a rough kiss against the wall :

The party was exactly the sort of place Cas should have avoided. While it was easy for him to go physically unrecognized, another nameless face in an assembly of high-buttoned collars and knives hidden in sportcoats, he knew that some semblance of a reputation preceded him. The crowd Baby surrounded himself with wouldn’t have tolerated Cas’ presence well if they knew of the grief he’d caused for them in the past, but without much identity to attach to the name, he figured he wasn’t risking much. Besides, when he decided he needed Baby, it was difficult for anything to change his mind.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to get through the doors without an invitation so he’d spent the past twenty minutes sending insistent texts to Baby’s phone, hovering in wait along the exit. For such a lavish event, the bay outside behind the building looked about as unwelcoming as any at a bar he’d frequent, though he didn’t pay it much mind when Baby appeared at the door. He gave him no space to reprimand him, knocking the words out of the air as he grabbed hold of Baby’s waist to crowd him against the brick. Cas had never been patient and he was no better when it came to Baby, not taking a second to explain before crashing down to kiss him, pulling at his jacket to keep him arced against him.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He finally managed, entirely unapologetic. “Wanted to see you.” Cas couldn’t exactly admit to his inexplicably jealousy that’d grown over the course of the evening, refusing to dull even after a whiskey or two, imagining Baby accompanied by his breed of upper-class criminal with their luxury and charm. Baby wasn’t really his to be envious over, not really, and Cas’ knowledge of that did little to dissuade him. He was the possessive sort, and that was surely obvious as he tightened his grip on Baby’s coat, barely pulled away enough for their lips to separate. “There anything you gotta do in there still? I saw your car in the lot.” A pause to kiss him again, deep, hand drifting up to catch at the back of his neck. “If you can sneak away for a while.”

ten. main verse / a kiss before leaving :

There was something Baby wasn’t telling him. Whatever had happened when his control was far out of his own reach had clearly gotten to them both, and Cas got the feeling that something had shifted. When he lost himself like that, his thoughts all bled together into something incomprehensible, red-hot though entirely forgettable— the second he sobered, all the past time was smeared away into a haze of anger and a handful of words or faces he couldn’t distinguish. Coming down from this kind of bitter high usually ended with unfamiliar blood on his face and something new to leave a scar, and so this last one dissipating at Baby’s touch was entirely new. He’d come back around to find his hand pressing at the base of Baby’s throat, presumably straining in full-force as he took a ragged, relieved breath when Cas eased back, a pink print left along his collarbone in the wake of his hold. Baby’s own hand hadn’t moved from where it’d settled the side of Cas’ face, surprisingly steady as Cas crashed back down out of his absence. The dizzying ring in his ears had muffled out any hope of recognizing what Baby had been telling him, expression desperate through whatever he said. He didn’t know how to be handled like that— Baby’s thumb moving carefully across his cheek as if touching too hard would set him off again, softly repeating things in a loop that Cas couldn’t comprehend —and he’d put a few paces between Baby and himself the moment he could move. All he could remember with any solidity was the feeling of Baby’s hammering pulse under his palm.

They’d both done well at avoiding the topic altogether as they’d driven back to the motel, Cas taking care not to look directly at the Baby’s reflection in the dark windshield in front of them. The time spent cleaning each other up was entirely devoid of their usual chastising and teasing, and no matter how badly wanted to let the dam break and cover Baby’s body with his own, he instead ensured that each touch between them was fast and impersonal. The reassurance shouldn’t have been his to need, and so he told himself he didn’t want it. Whatever Baby had been telling him was probably safer forgotten.

It must have been fairly obvious what was coming. Cas could feel Baby’s eyes on him the entire evening, seeming to wait for him to be lost again, to fall back out of focus or just disappear into the dark. If the hours previous had ended any worse, maybe he would have asked him to stay. Maybe Cas would have listened. He was still able to let himself run if he could pretend Baby was indifferent to it, little touch between them or just shaky silence, but he hadn’t yet figured out how to turn Baby down when asked. He’d do anything Baby wanted if he said it in that way, pleadingly, if he spoke Cas’ name soft and insistent and didn’t let his hands leave his face. Baby didn’t try to stop him this time, however, barely even speaking as they went through the motions, which meant Cas wouldn’t stop himself either.

He was too far on edge to relax though Baby clearly needed to, climbing into an unmade bed with his hair still wet from the shower. There was space on the other side of the mattress that Cas couldn’t bring himself to take, instead pacing between the door and the window and glancing back and forth between them. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking out for as, logically, he knew that the threat of that day was there in the room with them. Trust wasn’t something he understood what to do with, and sometimes he wished Baby didn’t seem to give it to him at all, not when it meant constant vulnerability. Cas thought that perhaps they both liked to pretend that they weren’t as screwed as they were, but allowing himself a glance at Baby’s form in the sheets, it’s all he could feel— he’s so fucked, so absolutely fucked.

Baby’s hand had stretched out into the empty spot to his side, maybe unintentionally, and when Cas looked too long he knew he couldn’t help himself, gingerly moving to climb in next to him. He’d never been subtle about seeking contact and then was no exception, now that he’d allowed it, tucking in against Baby and slotting their legs together, sliding his hand up his chest to grab a hold on the front of his shirt. He had nothing good to say and not much that Baby could harmlessly respond with, though he could at least give himself this, breathing into him and moving gently up to touch where Baby had started to bruise along his neck. They’d come to face each other yet Cas still refused eye contact, instead fixated on the fresh purple that crawled up from under Baby’s collar. Something wasn’t right, was different, and he couldn’t place it. Didn’t think he wanted to, really. Instead, he just leaned in to press his lips to Baby’s. It was a goodbye kiss disguised as a goodnight one and Cas badly wanted to think that Baby couldn’t tell, long and unhurried and not something he ever wanted to pull back from. He thought maybe that Baby had something to say, after, the silence between them waiting to be broken as he stared at his mouth. Neither of them ventured anything, though, and Cas thought perhaps he was disappointed about it.

He waited until Baby fell asleep. Waited a good hour past then, too. He was always going to bolt, though, and he was only wasting the time before he pulled away into the cold, Baby curled into empty space behind him.

#setablaze #› ╰ s. caspian / baby.#› ╰ m. answer.#garbage/??????

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redsdesktop · 7 years

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Nameless Week: Sharing Beds.

Pairings: Red x Green/Blue Oak ( I use Green. )

Warnings: None.

AU: Omegaverse. If you're not familiar with this 'verse, I suggest looking it up. Though the 'verse varies from writer to writer.

Two young boys sat on the floor in a bedroom, reading a magazine together, they were fascinated by this week's issue. It had every gym leader and their description inside it, listing everything about them, including their secondary genders. It was growing apparent that most of the gym leaders were Alphas with only a couple of Betas mixed in, which only the silent boy seemed to notice. Being an omega, it was a little disheartening to have no idol that was the same dynamic as him. He looked over at his best friend Green, who was an alpha himself, signing him a question. Green was smart, knew a lot about the world beyond their little town, so maybe he had the answer to the question that had been bothering him.

'Why are there no omega leaders, Green?'

Green laughed and patted Red's shoulder, making Red frown, to the mute, this was a serious question. "Omegas are too weak to be a gym leader, duh! They need an alpha to keep them safe and protected. Don't worry about it, I can be your alpha!" Green said confidently, proudly, puffing his chest out a little as if that would impress and sooth Red's worries. Instead, it only annoyed the silent boy as he turned his head an looked away. While he liked the fact Green cared about him, but he wasn't weak, he could keep Green safe too. Friendship was a two way street and he would prove to Green that just because he was an omega, didn't mean he was weak.

That was the start of their downfall in friendship and the rise of their rivalry that would burn the both of them into ashes.

Ten years later, Red stood in front of a door with a tough decision in front of him. He'd escaped the world after winning the championship. People had began to protest that an omega couldn't be a champion and the gym leaders and elite four's strength were called in to question. If an omega could become Pokemon league champion then it was obvious that the system was too weak because people refused to believe a ten year old omega could not only stop Team Rocket, but become champion as well. He was labelled a liar and had been harassed until finally, he broke. He ran away into hiding where no one would find him. Mount Silver had been the place, no one would suspect him to be living in such a dangerous environment. He had, he thrived their in the silence and the wild, where Pokemon didn't judge him based on what he was and rather who he was.

So why was he here? Green had been the first one to not believe in him, had constantly bullied him and told him to just give up and go home.It wasn't entirely Green's fault though, Red had a lot of time to think and mull things over. Green had only wanted to protect him, his friend had cared about him, but Rd just couldn't let his only friend think of him as weak or a liability. In the end, he'd embarrassed Green, an Alpha champion for five minutes only to be taken down by an omega. Red had left him with the fallout of what he'd done and the guilt ate at him for years. He didn't regret beating Green, but he did regret not staying, not trying to mend things with Green. In the end, Green had been the strong one and had stayed despite everything. Red had ran, too weak to face the ridicule.

Now he stood in front of Green's door, having retrieved Green's new house location from his sister, Daisy, who had promised to keep it a surprise. Though Red still wasn't certain if he should be here or not as the cold nightly wind brushed up against him, tussling his dark brown hair that poked out the sides of his worn out baseball cap. Would Green even remember him? If he did, would he hate him? Red had grown up, filled out his body and had built up muscle from the harsh living on top of the mountain. To anyone who didn't catch a whiff of his gentle and sweet omega scent, they'd label him as an Alpha from body shape alone. Red lifted up a shaking hand, nervous about this, he feared the worst, expected it even. Still though, he needed to see Green again, so he knocked gently on the door, the sound was too soft, too hesitant. Red stood there, wondering if Green had even heard it, he had to be home since it was two in the morning on a weekday.

Then he heard scratching from the inside of the door, lowering his gaze in question since the scratching was coming from low to the ground, then he heard the excited trill of an eevee. The sound made his bored pikachu on his shoulders perk up and clamber down to the ground. He began scratching at the door as well, eager to see his own long lost friend. The scratching from inside stopped, wondering if eevee had given up, though likely not if he remembered the little brown fox Pokemon correctly. Eevee always got what she wanted, her determination despite being unevolved and refusing Green's insistence to evolve at every turn made Red admire her. He supposed that's why his pikachu was friends with her as well, sharing the same desire to not evolve and his pikachu's desire to thwart Green every step of the way.

"Eevee, what is it, its two in the damn morning." Red heard a muffled grumble coming from inside the house, making his heart begin to pick up speed. He would've ran, but his feet were stubbornly glued to the doorstep, too panicked to work properly. As he watched the doorknob turn, his stress grew, unintentionally making his scent give off a bitter scent, revealing his anxiety without words. He'd been so calm and collected up on the mountain, but down here, facing Green for the first time in a decade, he felt nervous for the first time. The door opened finally, revealing a sight that Red was unprepared for. Red had stupidly thought Green would look the same as he did when they were kids, he couldn't get the image out of his head even though rationally he knew Green had grown up just like he had.

Not only that, but his friend was wearing only a pair of green boxers, it shouldn't mean anything to him, he'd seen Green as a kid wearing only boxers or shorts. But Green wasn't a kid anymore, that much was obvious. Red's eyes widened as he looked from head to toe and back again, unaware that the speechless Green was just as shocked and doing the same with him. Something about seeing Green's lean muscled swimmer's body made Red's cheeks flush red and turn his head, ducking it as he raised his hand to nervously adjust his hat by the brim, conveniently hiding his face. They stood their awkwardly for a moment, silence making Red uncomfortable since he waited for Green to say something, anything.

"Arceus, you stink."

Well, that wasn't exactly what he hoped for.Afraid he was being rejected, he stepped back, or tried to, but a hand shot out to grab a hold of his arm firmly. Startled, not used to human contact after so long, Red froze, his entire body tense as an Alpha had grabbed him. Every omega instinct told him to either run or try to make himself smaller. He refused to do either, if he'd did that, he'd just be proving everyone right that he was weak.

"Whoa, hey wait, don't go. I just meant that your stinkin' up the place with your stress. Chill out, I'm not going to bite." Green spoke, his sleepy voice gentle, trying to soothe over Red's fear. It had been so long since he interacted with someone, he'd forgotten how stressful it was. Not only that, but this was Green, his closest friend that he'd let down, that he ruined on accident. He needed to stay. Needed to apologize to get this guilt off his chest before it completely crushed him, maybe then the both of them could live in some sort of peace. Green lightly tugged on Red's arm, trying to indicate that he should come in. "Get inside, you oaf. You're letting all the cold air in." Well, it seemed Green hadn't changed in calling him names, but that fact was comforting. Calling him these light insults was familiar and Red knew the true meaning behind it.

Green had his own way of showing care, most thought it was just bullying, but Red had stuck around Green long enough to see beneath that defensive barrier and had grew to understand his childhood friend. If he was lightly insulting him, that meant they were still friends, right? Slowly he moved into the house, pikachu had no reserves and darted in between Green's legs, nearly tripping the man over in his rush to play with eevee.As the door closed behind him, he took a deep inhale and there was a faint upturn in one corner of his lips as the scent of the house reminded him of their childhood. He always teased Green about his scent, the warm, strong smell of freshly cut oakwood after Green's surname. It filled the place with Green's personalized scent, it was slowly putting Red's nerves at ease, but not completely. Now he was inside Green's house, his personal space, his den. Red wasn't certain what to do with himself, not knowing his boundaries.

"Can we talk later? I stayed up all night getting the gym's paperwork done." Green said before yawning, reaching up to comb his fingers through his hair, he had terrible bedhead just like he had when he was a kid. Red nodded a little, glancing over at the couch in the living room, Green caught his look and tightened his grip on Red's arm a little. "Oh no no no, I'm not letting you sleep alone so you can sneak out on me again while I'm asleep. You're staying in my bed so you can't escape." Green leveled him with a glare, but Red didn't seem to notice as he met those hazel eyes, they looked even better than he remembered, even if he didn't particularly like the tired look in them. Red sighed out and gave a nod, giving in to Green's demands before his childhood friend began to drag him down the hall to his bedroom.

The bedroom had even a stronger scent, making Red feel a little nervous, this place was private, for Green. No one came into an Alpha's room unless they were bonded, but it seemed Green was too tired to care about protocol.So tired that he shoved Red back, causing Red to let out a huff of surprise at such a demand, especially when he hadn't even taken off his shoes yet. Green climbed into bed on the other side while Red toed off his worn out sneakers, not confident enough to strip down to his boxers like Green. He rolled onto his side, his back facing Green to give the other male privacy as he pulled the blankets up. He couldn't sleep, his mind was whirling through all his thoughts on what was happening. Green wasn't mad, at least not yet since his friend was likely more tired than angry. However, Green hadn't shut the door in his face and now... He could feel Green scooting up behind him. Too close.

And yet, the feel of Green's arm curling about his waist and the soft and slow warm breaths that brushed over the back of his neck were comforting. This. This was home.

#namelessweek #namelessshipping #originalshipping #trainer red #trainer green #trainer blue #green oak #blue oak #pokemon #omegaverse #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse #alternate universe #au #prompt #oneshot #fanfic

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