#I need to use I can't abstract it into words for you but...(fill in abstraction into words) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

princessoflalaland · 8 days

Text

'HEAD SO GOOD SHE HONOR ROLL!'. ݁₊ ⊹

ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Hiromi and a special guest

synopsis: the jjk men love how much you love having them in your mouth.

'. ݁₊ ⊹content: fem!reader x jjk men, smut, spit play, breath play(choking on that d), oral(m receiving), degradation, voyeurism (implied)

'. ݁₊ ⊹word count: 5.1k

'. ݁₊ ⊹a/n: I have a terrible oral fixation and in dire need to give these wonderful men the best, soul-sucking, toe-curling, God-meeting head they've ever known. and this is how im gonna cope with it :)

Hiromi

"sh-shit, y/n," he hisses, hand burrowing in the locks atop your head. you leer up at him as your hand slips up and down his shaft while your lips work the upper half of his cock. "y'taking me s-so deep, o-oh my God..." your moist lips and hand meet time and time again, spreading your saliva all over him. a groan rumbles from hiromi’s chest, the sound going straight to your already soaked panties.

you bottom him out in your throat, your nose nestled comfortably against his coarse, recently shaved pubes. the scratchy feeling makes the lower part of your gut tingle as you take yourself off him to breathe.

"sorry, romi." you coo lovingly. you're never not working his cock. even during 'breaks' in moments like these, you make sure he has some kind of stimulation. you glance briefly at his gleaming tip, mouth filling with saliva all over again. "y'taste so good. can't get enough..!"

he's back in your mouth, you shamelessly gag on his length. tears brim in your seductive eyes and threaten to spill and ruin your mascara. hiromi watches you hungrily suck him off, like your heart will stop if you don't suck every ounce of cum out of him in the next minute. your head bobs, easily sliding half of his length into your throat before dragging your lips back to his tip. his head leans back, his chair going with it slightly with a creak. "fuuuck, just like that."

hiromi's grip on your hair tightens and you begin to wonder if he wants to take control. you'd love for him to fuck your face, and he'd love that too. to fuck his throbbing dick into that pretty face, ruin your make up and break your already cockdrunk mind even more. but your incessant, vacuum-like felatio has his balls tightening prematurely and his breath shortening.

"crap, y/n, i'm--agh--g-gonna cum." he warns, pressing your head further down, loving the way your throat constricts with your gagging. "gonna let me cum all over that pretty face?" he pants, a salacious glare swirling behind his dark, hooded eyes. "huh, baby? gonna let me cum all over you?"

you nod, somehow, as you bob your head a little faster. your hand grips the sides of his muscular thighs, salty trails of your mascara streaking down your cheeks. you urge him, beg him to release on your face through the sound of your sloppy choking. your slutty noises makes him use your mouth like the fleshlight it is until he feels his cum is spurting out of sensitive tip.

he moans as his core tightens, you yanking this orgasm out of him unapologetically. it takes everything in him to not close his eyes and let the white hot bliss take over. his sweet-sour cum coats your tongue, a worthy reward for relieving this overworked individual of some of his stress. the moans you release send shocks of pleasure straight up hiromi's spine, making his toes curl.

you make good on your wish and let him out of his mouth so he can spary whatever cum he has left all over your pretty, slutty little face. panting like a dog, you revel in how warm his cum is, how it splatters prettily on your visage like abstract art. one of eyes flutters closed as a drop lands right on your eyelid.

"ah, shit!" he swears under his breath. you don't even let him stroke the orgasm out, your hand fervently jerking him off to get as much of his essence out. "fuck, baby, fuck..such a dirty slut aren't you?" a satisfied simper curls his lips as he stares you down. he couldn't be prouder of you, watching his creamy, thick cum paint that gorgeous face. "looking so pretty with my cum all over you..."

and you look as proud of yourself as he does. a soft, grin crinkles your eyes as gaze up at your boss. "thank you, Mr. Higuruma." his cock twitches when you use his professional title.

being his assistant doesn't just stop at bringing him his morning, afternoon, and evening brew, or filing endless reports. no, no, being hiromi higuruma's assistant means all of his needs are met. and if that means getting on your knees in his office at the end of the work day, when the building is sparsely populated with workers, to suck the stress out of him, then so be it.

Geto

movie nights are some of your favorite ways to welcome the weekend with your boyfriend. glutton being your best friend as both of your favorite snacks and drinks crowd the coffee table, a list of films prepped all week to ensure there was never a shortage of entertainment. and let's not forget the blanket that suguru puts in the dryer for ten minutes on high heat for maximum comfort.

all the criterions are met for the perfect movie night, and it's all enhanced when you prance out of the hall wearing those black shorts he loves and an old shirt of his. suguru watches your hips, his eyes making the lazy ascent up to your playful eyes as you saunter over to the sofa.

"what's first on the list?" you ask, plopping down beside him, body flush against his.

"uh," he looks at his phone briefly to check the list he made on his notes app. "it's called Jennifer's Body."

you nod nuzzling and squirming on the cushions until you're comfortable. you angle your head upward at him, a bit of your hair falling softly over your shoulder. "let's get this started then."

you two are barely thirty minutes into the flick before your wandering hands find his dick and cause it to harden under his loose sweats, to which you innocently lowered your head on his lap and found said dick in your mouth. you can only do so much to resist the temptation that is geto suguru's cock, and he would be a complete fool to resist the warm, wet haven that is your skilled mouth.

"fuck, baby. can't even let me watch the movie, huh?" suguru chuckles, hand resting comfortably on your head. "not that I mind though, always make me feel so fuckin' good..."

his words fade on his tongue as you drag your lips down to his cum-filled balls. you've grown addicted to the plushness, the fullness of them in your mouth. you press your tongue to them roughly, coaxing them to give you the deliciousness you know is hidden within. you drag your godsend tongue up his shaft and swallow his cock whole, making his stomach clench, eliciting a wanton groan from him. "shorry, shugu," you say around a mouthful of him, "love your cock shoo much."

suguru’s eyes go out of focus, the pleasure damn near blinding him, as both your hands expertly work his cock and balls in tandem with your mouth. the lewd sucking and gagging sounds along with suguru's deep moans drowns out the movie that you both have long disregarded. your boyfriend's other hand slips over your back to your ass, his rough palm massaging the plush of it. his voice is a husky whisper when he finally collects enough of himself to utter words. "take it deeper, baby..i know you can- ah!" you obey him promptly not letting him finish his sentence. you angle your head, letting his fat tip prod the inside of your cheek. he watches this, feeling the coil in his stomach tighten more. "shit, shit, y/n. so fuckin' nasty..."

"only for you, baby." you've taken your mouth off him with a proud pop, stroking him, spreading your excess spit around him. you look him in the eyes sultrily, eyes zeroing in on his lips. a new desire blossoms in your chest and you realize you really wanna kiss him right now, wanna feel his smooth lips on your wet ones. you want his tongue to caress your own and make you even wetter than you are now.

knowing you for so long comes with the ability to read you like an open book. "make me cum and I'll give you what you want." he promises with a squeeze to your butt, prompting you to lower your head back down to his sheeny dick. you smile sweetly and put all your effort in to making him achieve an orgasm, bobbing your head fervently with a soundtrack of sloppy slurps and gags to get him to cum.

suguru swears and praises you under his breath as the coil tightens impossibly tighter. "don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," his pleas spur you on, making you bring your head all the way down till your nose kisses his pelvis. tracing a vein along his shaft with your tongue, moaning softly is the last push he needs.

his cum spills over your tongue and down your throat, the sweet then sour taste like the most potent drug, making your eyes roll and toes curl. carefully, your lips wrap around his tip so some of his orgasm is caught on your tastebuds. a thin trail of saliva connects you to him as you finally release him. "fuck," suguru breathes, satisfied. "c'mere, love.." he kisses you, his tongue finding your cum-covered one and tasting himself. he sighs deeply, a hand snaking its way to your nape and pulling you closer. when you two part, he gives you a long, searching look, one that seems to be searching for the depths of your heart and what hides in it.

"you're so good to me." he muses, his thumb lazily rubbing your nape. "what did I do to deserve you?" heat floods your system at his sentiment. he has the tendency to become saccharine and raw after intimacy.

you straddle his lap, feeling his dick harden under your weight. "you didn't do anything but love me for me." you relent, cupping his face and kissing him. "and I couldn't ask for anything else."

Toji

you couldn’t wait until after your shift to get his dick down your throat. no, no, you just had to call him out in the middle of the workday, pull him into a dingy alley, and drop to your knees like a common whore.

“this what i do to you, ma?” he rasps as your lips make the lewd descent to his base. “give you dick so good you can’t even go the day without it?” the tip of your nose just barely grazes his rough pubes before your pulling your head back, gasping for air. a string of saliva connecting you to the thing you crave the most in this moment.

“mhm..” you hum distantly. you’re mind is not on anything he’s saying or what’s going on. you don’t care how the pavement bites you through the thin tights you wear, or the passerby just outside the alley. all you care about is dousing the fire in the pit of your stomach that’s been raging since this morning. pumping his cock hurriedly, you suckle on the tip like it’s a casual popsicle.

toji doesn’t like the lack of attention he’s getting, his eyes darkening and lips curling downward. normally, you’re equally infatuated with his dick and him, like they’re two separate beings. cooing to him how much you love his cock, praising it, while worshipping said cock with that godsend mouth of yours.

but right now, it seems your attention is solely on his cock, which doesn't fly over well with your fuckbuddy. instead of gently cupping the back your head like he’s been doing, he seizes a harsh fistful of your locks and bottoms out into your throat. a gasp-like moan is stifled by his length from the sudden intrusion, your eyes widening and tears burning the backs of them. he holds you there, groaning lowly at the way your throat convulses as you gag.

“stupid bitch..” he mutters, he holds you there for a few seconds before sliding himself out your wet cavern to keep you from passing out. you don't even think to tap his leg to signal that it's too much, his cock being the only thing on that dirty ol' mind. "think you too good to answer me or somethin?" your mouth lolls open, your gaze seeing past his.

toji slaps his dick on the side of your face, eyebrows pinched together in what could either be annoyance or confusion. "you cockdrunk already?" all he gets in response is a lazy nod.

the only time you come to your senses is when you fervently try to reunite your tongue with his dick. you sloppily bob your head on him, lewd squelching and sucking sounds bouncing off the alley's dirty walls.

it's rather rare for you to get so cockdrunk you can't even respond to him, so he decides to use this to his advantage.

“you want my cum, pretty? that why you actin like you can’t talk?” toji mutters through clenched teeth. he can barely contain the sounds rumbling in his chest from how good you’re being to him. his eyes flicker to the alley’s entrance, seeing the multitude of people passing you two by obliviously.

his scar twitches as the beginnings of a smirk form on his face. what he wouldn’t give for someone to make a wrong turn for whatever reason and catch you, on your knees giving him the sloppiest head. he brings his attention back to you, watching as his dick slides in and out of your throat with ease.

“s’good a fuckin whore, makin me feel so good..” your fuckbuddy’s words almost collide into each other with how good your mouth feels. his eyes nearly disappear into his skull when he bottoms again, reveling in the constriction of your throat as you gag. he wants to test your limits, see how long you can keep him in that pretty little throat if yours. "you want my cum, so fuckin work for it," he growls.

tears chase each other down your cheeks, leaving dark messy trails of mascara. saliva coats the lower half of your face and some parts of your cheeks. your eyes, a little red with your lashes glittering with tears. a complete and utter slutty mess, thats what you are in this moment. but toji thinks you’ve never looked prettier. a hint of adoration worms its way into his condescending gaze as you loll your tongue out at him as though you are asking for something.

“what? feelin nastier than usual?” he asks, collecting spit onto his tongue to deposit onto your waiting one. he gives you a generous amount, letting it slide off his tongue down to your open mouth in a long, silky trail. you pant like a bitch in heat as you wait for the saliva to land in your mouth, eyes wide with orgastic anticipation.

mixing his saliva with your own, you continue to blow him and let him fuck your face. toji feels his balls tighten as his orgasm approaches. "'agh, fuck, y/n. 'm gettin close.." he doesn’t try to keep quiet anymore than you do, the erotic duet the two of you make reverberating off the alley and back into your ears.

“want me to cum on yer face, slut? paint that pretty face with my cum?” he moans, using your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight to reach his climax. you feign a nod through his harsh thrusts.

“shit, ‘m gonna cum, baby. gonna cum all over you...” that’s his final warning before he yanks his dick out of your mouth and releases onto you. your eyes stay glued on him as his thick, potent cum spurts onto your face and into your mouth.

“take it, take it, take it…” he hisses through his teeth. this orgasm of his fierce and he can’t tell if it’s from the grade A head you just gave him, or because of how much of a whore you were and how that turned him on like nothing else. “that’s a good girl,” he sighs once he’s done, twitching a little as you kitten lick his tip for more.

wiping a dollop of his cum from your cheek and sucking it off your finger, you gaze up at him. “thanks, toji.” you’ve come back to your senses, so you stand up and pull a compact mirror from your back pocket. you smirk at your reflection, admiring the milky globs he so graciously left on your face. you won’t admit it, but you love when he defiles you like this, leaves his mark on you so no one ever forgets who gets you to act like this. and you won’t ever need to admit it to him because he already knows, knows you’re his and always will be.

Nanami

you love your husband, and with that love comes with helping him destress the second he comes through the door to your home. you greet him in a way any wife would: take his coat and hang it for him, asking him how his day was, give him a kiss, which turns into two, then three, then find yourself on your knees undoing his zipper and freeing his aching cock.

"lemme help you, honey. you always work so hard..." you purr, your warm breath traveling over his length and sending shivers up his spine. "God," he breathes, hazel eyes fluttering. "how can I resist when you look at me like that?"

with a simper, you wrap your plush lips around his tip, drinking the precum pooling there. your eyes become heavy-lidded as the flavor of it traverses over your tastebuds. humming your satisfaction, you let in more of his cock. the girth of it stretches out your mouth, forces you to widen your jaw until it aches. the pain is good though; it's worth it if it means you can get more of your husband's dick down your throat.

nanami tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches you, lust vibrating beneath his skin, making him feverish. his breath comes out harshly through his nose as you leer up at him. he'll never get over the polarity with you. outside, you're a respectable young woman, one he is proud to call his wife. you're articulate and kind, you never fail to make his heart swell with affection and pride.

but within the walls of your shared home, you become something else. a minx, a nymph, a siren. you make him ache for you in ways he never has for any woman, bring him pleasure like no one else. you worship him and let him have his way with you. and honestly, there's nothing more he could ask for after another grueling day at work.

"oh, my love..that's so good." your husband moans deeply through labored breaths. "yes, baby, just like that. take me nice and deep."

your tongue presses firmly to the underside of his dick after it has traced every vein on it. you don't even need your hands, having more control with just your mouth than some have with both their hands. he can't tear his eyes away from yours, it's like he's entranced. you've reeled him in and there's no going back.

slow, steady bobbing of your head leaves your spouse breathless. he holds both sides of your head, fighting demons not to buck into your warm, wet, perfect mouth. the subtle gagging sounds you make nearly makes him snap. "such a good wife, treating me s-so nicely.." he praises. "ah, fuck, y'always so good to me..so fuckin good." hearing the usually decorous nanami curse is music to your ears.

nanami can feel his legs weakening, the pleasure that pulses through him with every beat of his heart becoming too much. your throat is so well trained, it takes all his inches with ease. your jaw is achingly numb from being widened for so long. you let your head make small, almost imperceptible circles as you speed up, angling your occasionally so his tip pokes your inner cheek, eliciting a sharp gasp from him.

"ah, y/n," he chuckles, surprised at how slutty yet modest you can be. not a single drop of saliva has escaped your mouth since you've started. "gonna make me cum. p-please, keep going, 'm so close."

with each bob of your head, you get closer to the base, your eyes breaking contact with his to glance at the golden pubes that come just out of reach of your nose.

"yes, yes, yes." nanami's voice raises in pitch for a split second, indicating that you're doing a stellar job. soft moans from you vibrate through him, making him jerk slightly. his fingers dig into your hair his eyes struggling to stay open as ecstasy threatens to shut his brain down entirely.

your husband's jaw drops as he feels himself going right over the edge, careening into the pits of what's going to be an amazing orgasm. when you're sure he can't take anymore, you let your lips kiss his base, snatching his orgasm right from him.

nanami can't stop the pathetic noises he makes as his cum pours done your throat. your throat feels heavenly, constricting and relaxing the way your pussy would. he convulses slightly, a sweet mix of whimpers and soft moans falling from his lips.

"baby- baby, please I can't-" he can barely beg you properly. his hips involuntarily buck further into your mouth as his orgasm reaches its end, his tip jabbing at the back of your throat mercilessly.

you drag your lips slowly back to his tip, watching him darkly as he twitches. you release him with a pop and finally use your hand to gently stroke him.

"c'mon, kento," you say softly as you rise to your feet, still maintaining a gentle hold on him. "lemme help you unwind a little more, you've earned it."

and with that, he falls in love with you all over again.

Gojo

"i've always wanted to try this with you, baby. a-always wanted to see what it'd be like..." your boyfriend has not shut up since you so kindly hung your head off the side of the bed and asked him to fuck your face. his heavy, breathy words heat the room along with the wild lust dancing behind his sky blue eyes. if only you could see that look on his face, the sultry adoration contorting his features.

"takin it so good, pretty. my pretty fuckin whore..." gojo's hands carefully cradles your head and neck. your own hand has busied itself with lazily rubbing your pussy, slick oozing down to your ass and the sheets. the sounds coming from you send ripples of pleasure through gojo's system making him just a bit louder. this angle allows him the view of a lifetime. he can see the bulge his length forms in your small throat, the sight of it making his mind even hazier.

his thrusts stagger and he pulls out to let you breathe. you gulp down fresh air, saliva trailing down onto your cheeks and making its way slowly toward your lower eyelids. gojo strokes himself as you recover, panting with flushed cheeks.

"you're so sexy like this, my sexy little slut." his voice is dripping with sultry adoration and honesty. he truly believes you're a gift from above because who else, other than an angel, would let them be defiled like this for him? he rubs his tip across your puckered lips, smearing precum and spit all over them. "aw God, y-you're gorgeous, angel, y'know that?" his praises continue to tumble out of his mouth as your boyfriend eases his way back into your waiting jaws. "so perfect, perfect f'me."

your fingers pick up the pace along with the speed of his thrusts. primal moans and whimpers, wet slurps and gags, the subtle squelching of your sopping pussy are the only noises in the room. you bring your hand up and pinch your nipple, yanking a gargled moan out of yourself. your essences leaks generously onto the sheets as his tip continues to tease your uvula and reduce your already weak gag reflex.

gojo's shameless whimpers and breathy approval makes you want to do more to please him, so you abandon your nipple, reach out and fondle his heavy balls. "agh, Christ, y/n!" he shouts, moans chasing the words, "tryna make me cum, huh? don't wanna cum too quick, wanna make th-this last.." your soft hands squeeze his breeder balls, coaxing them to give you everything he has to offer. your significant other begs you to ease up, to not tease him so much. you chuckle, the vibration making his mind go blank long enough for you to let your fingers wander to his perineum.

gojo's jaw goes slack as he throws his head back, sloppily thrusting his cum straight into your throat. the pressure in his lower abdomen released without him even realizing and now he can't seem to stop his hips as your delicate fingers massage the space between his ass and scrotum. there's so much cum, too much for your mouth to hold and your throat to take in. some dribbles down the sides of your mouth, over the spit trails on your cheeks and too close to your eye. as his cum slides down your throat, your hips buck upward as you climax onto your fingers. when he pulls out, he strokes the rest of his release out onto your neck and chest, shaking and gasping.

gojo hasn't really opened up about trying certain things, especially butt stuff, but the way he yelped and his usually perfect thrusts stuttered when he came is indication enough that maybe now he will be.

Totusmoto

you've been waiting for this moment, waiting since you first laid eyes on your neighbor. his lumbering figure drifting in and out of the run down apartment complex never failed to trigger something carnal in you. and things only got worse when you'd hear his gravelly, desperate moans through the walls. you couldn't care less for the woman who tried to harmonize with him with her own sounds, all that mattered was listening to him.

so, when your sink suddenly decided to act up, calling the landlord for a repairman was not the first thing that came to mind. you'd run into totsumoto yuushi at the apartment mailbox, both of you silently rifling through envelopes. as soon as the opportunity presented itself, you seized it. you struck up a simple conversation, something about the sweltering heat that summer rolled in. he looked at you with a bored expression at first, wondering why anyone who wasn’t someone he owed money was paying him any mind. but the look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know: behind that polite gaze was a caged, carnal beast that wanted him.

it was then he knew you were definitely worth getting to know. over time, you two became well acquainted. chatting nonstop at the laundromat, while you two retrieved the mail, and just anywhere you two happened to be. everything was falling into place, just like you wanted. one day, you casually asked him if he knew anything about plumbing. having been a maintenance man for one of his many jobs, he told you yes. and yuushi had an inclination there was much more to this inquiry of yours than his expertise regarding pipes.

so now, on another sweltering afternoon after your neighbor so graciously fixed your faulty sink pipes, you're paying him back for his kindness by swallowing his dick whole.

"h-holy shit- you're really g-good." your neighbor's gravelly voice only darkens the wet patch already staining your panties. one hand you pumps the parts of yuushi's cock that you're out of practice throat can't quite reach. your eyebrows pinch together slightly as you watch him ogle you. you're lost in those dark eyes of his, not wanting to be anywhere else other than under his carnal stare.

"mhm, take it. take it like the good girl you are..." he's much sweeter than you anticipated, but from what you've heard through the walls, it doesn't come to much of a surprise. yuushi gently places his hand on your head, guiding you down his shaft. "that's it, you can take more of me, more of this fuckin cock."

the need to please yuushi, to show him you're better than whoever gets the honor of being fucked silly by him every night, becomes more important than the need for air. so, just to prove how badly you need him, you take in more of his thick inches, your eyes forcing themselves shut so you can focus on controlling your gags. yuushi groans, gripping the counter behind him with his free hand fiercely. the spasms of your throat are heavenly. "just like that, fuck. yes, baby, yes." even if he tries, he can't stifle the pathetic sounds you force out of him.

you reel back, a thin spit trail connecting you to him. you gasp, which dissolves into heavy panting. you're eyes are completely clouded over, a look that tells yuushi: i'm your whore, so treat me like one.

"c'mon love, back in your mouth." he orders breathily when he thinks you've had a long enough breather. "wanna feel your mouth again, c'mon, please.."

your hand and mouth work double time, thick globs of saliva hitting the tile of your kitchen as your gargle on his dick. yuushi senses his climax chasing him down from the telltale tightness in him stomach. the impending orgasm causes him to lose himself just a bit, and he bucks up into your mouth in time with the bobbing of your head. "fuck, angel." he pants, his brain fogging over with the white bliss that's building like a tsunami coming to shore. "just a bit more, 'm almost there, almost... fuck!"

he grabs the sides of your head and brings your lips flush against his base. his cum floods your mouth, letting you briefly taste its warm saltiness, before traveling down your esophagus. the white of your eyes are all he can see, or would see if his head wasn't thrown back from the immense pleasure. when he's done, he slowly withdraws his gleaming cock from your jaws, trying and failing to catch his breath.

he looks down at you with the utmost fondness, so much so, your heart flutters like a lovestruck teen's. yuushi truly can't believe his luck. sure, sex with the spirit haunting his room may be some of the best sex he's ever had, but you, you're something else. maybe it's how tangible you are, how he can see you whenever. maybe it's because now he's unabashedly curious of what else you have in store. maybe it's because he knows being with a ghost may never amount to being with a living, breathing woman. whatever the case may be, he knows it's going to be borderline impossible for him to stay away from you now.

1K notes · View notes

astoldbylanii · 4 months

Text

Ignorance

dealers!shuriri x black!reader

warnings: smut, cursing, reader has a kid

-------------- "Is everyone clear on instructions?" Your professor asked from the front of the classroom. There were whispers among the class but ultimately everyone answered yes. Prof. Diggs nodded, giving permission to start the project before he took a seat at his desk. He was your art teacher, as calm and chill as they come. He was one of your favorites considering he wasn't always jumping down his students throats.

As you finally started to get into the flow of your sketch, his phone rang. He picked it up, muttering a few words before he stood from his desk, clearing his throat.

"I have to run down to the front office real quick. Best behavior please, lord knows I don't need miss Mulligan asking about my teaching capabilities. Again." He said, throwing on his suits jacket and tightening his tie. "Until I come back, ask your neighbor for help and if they can't I'll answer your questions when I get back." He instructed, saluting goodbye before he left the room.

Immediately, the room was filled with chatter. You sighed, throwing down your pencil, your thought process now thrown off.

"What's wrong?" Your friend, Eden asked from beside you. She was already well along with her drawing. It looked like it was going to be of her late brother.

"This finna be hard as hell. You know I don't mess with that hyperrealism shit." You said, rolling your eyes as you picked up your pencil, twirling it around your fingers.

"Well, just draw someone but like, abstract. We're in the second semester, by now Diggs knows your style." She suggested, starting to blend her own piece at some points. You shook your head at her idea.

"Nah, he specifically said he wants it to look like he can touch the person. I don't know, I think I might just settle for a nice D at this point." You shrugged, staring at the circle on your page. You took the paper off, crumbling it in your hands and replaced it with a fresh one. After that you didn't pay any more attention to it, pulling out your own sketchbook instead.

"Shii, I could settle for some good D too." Eden joked, smacking your hand down when you playfully shoved her, laughing too. "I'm not kidding!" She said, glaring at you with an offended look when you continued laughing. She rolled her eyes, going back to her drawing as you went back to your sketch.

Some minutes passed by and you two sat there in silence, surrounded by chatter. You were looking for inspiration in your old works while she was focusing on her new one. You were confused when out the corner of your eye you saw her put down her pencil too. Thinking she might've been done already, you looked over to see it unfinished. But maybe that was the look she was going for. You went to ask about it when she spoke up first.

"Girl, who is that fine ass specimen walking towards us." She asked, gawking over whoever it was. You were sure they couldn't have been that good looking that she had to stop drawing, but you stood corrected when your gaze met Riri's. She had been surveying the room for you, and once the two of you made eye contact she started making her way up the stairs to you. "Wait why she coming up here? And why y'all staring at each other like y'all know each other? Wait, bitch, you know her?"

"Shhh!" You hushed, staring at Riri in shock as start to get closer to where you were seated. Why in the hell why she in your class? Much less in your building? You quickly fixed your shocked face when she stood in front of you, her hands in the pockets of her plain grey nike sweatsuit as she stared down at you. "The fuck is you doing here?" You whispered, looking around for any watching eyes.

"Since when you think it's ok to curse at me?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. You stayed silent, leaning back in your seat as you mugged her instead of apologizing. She chuckled down at you, obviously a little surprised at your attitude but she didn't mind it, knowing it'd be fixed in no time. "You haven't been answering our texts, mama."

"Yeah, I know." You said, rolling your eyes and going back to your sketchbook. Duh, why tf she staring the obvious like you don't know what you've been doing. You knew exactly what you were doing. Being petty. But ain't no way you was gon watch them sit there and talk to that girl and not react. This was you reacting, and they caused it so they can fix it.

Now you were starting to tick her off. You could tell you were. The way she rolled her tongue against her cheek as she looked down at you. The way her hand clenched up inside of her pocket. The way she softly scoffed under breath when your attention went back to your book. You could tell. It was because you knew how to piss her off. No eye contact, attitude, basically just being disrespectful. She was big on respect.

A hand came between you and your book and before you could stop it, it was snatched from your grasp. Your gaze snapped to her as you stood, trying to reach over the desk to grab the book but to no avail. She kept it out of your reach, using her free hand to grab your own, keeping you in place just from that grip. She leaned her head over your shoulder so her mouth was right by your ear.

"I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you're lucky your in class right now. When this class is over you're coming to The Palace. By then I want what ever you got going on fixed." She leaned away from your ear so you were face to face, looking you in the eye. "Or, I will fix it for you. Ok?" She warned, waiting for an answer. You nodded, though you changed to a verbal yes quick after you saw the look on her face. She smirked, pecking your lips before she pulled away. She caught sight of Eden, who's jaw had dropped at the affectionate action. Riri waved, knowing who she was to you before she took her exit, taking the sketchbook with her.

You assumed she took that for assurance that you'd actually show up at The Palace. She knew you rarely went anywhere without it.

Finally relaxing again with her gone, you slumped in your chair. You groaned, dragging a hand down your face as you thought about how the rest of your day was going to go. If God was on your side today, you'd still be able to crawl come tomorrow. But it was Friday. Meaning you didn't have class for the next couple of days meaning both Riri and Shuri were less likely to take pity on you. Damn you fucked up. Why couldn't Riri have came on a Teusday?

"Bitch, you know Riri? Wait never mind, you fuck Riri? I couldn't tell that was her at first but you're with Riri? Wait a minute don't she got a girlfriend? And you bottom too? I knew you was just shit talking all them times you-"

"Eden!" You interrupted her, not enjoying the rant that was soon to come. "Yes, I'm with Riri. Yes she has a girlfriend, I'm with her too. Also no one needs to know about the whole bottom shit, you know? We can just...keep it to ourselves." You admitted, looking around the room for anyone that might've been watching the whole interaction. Why did she have to pull that in front everyone? She could've pulled you outside, texted you. You know what, maybe she did text, you had been ignoring her to be fair.

"We gon circle back to the bottom thing but girl you're with two fuckin drug dealers?!" Eden whisper-shouted but still you shushed her, not exactly fond of the idea of them getting caught. "I am shushing! How did you even manage to- wait how the fuck did she get in here?" She asked, looking around like she felt unsafe now.

"Girl first of all calm down. Acting like someone coming to kidnap your ass. They don't do that type of shit anyway. And that front office call was more than likely her so she could make her way up here. I also heard there was a tour or something today? She proli pretended to be apart of it." You answered, still stressed about what you were going to do after this class. You hoped it felt as long as English usually did, the longer you have to form a plan the better.

"Don't she go to MIT? The hell is she doing on Harvard campus?" Eden asked, but more to herself. For the first time since Riri left, she turned to look at you, seeing the nervous look on your face. "Girl why you shaking in your boots for? You bout to get your doonies beat down goodt. By two people! I'd be clacking my heels."

"I'm not even sure that's what's gon happen for real. That's what's making me nervous." You replied, taking your nail into your mouth to bite. Your best friend shrugged, going back to her painting.

"Well either way if you're not here next week I'll tell your teachers you had some sort of accident. Maybe one about your legs not working." She said, giggling to herself. You looked at her with a fake annoyed face, holding in the smile that threatened to show itself.

"You think you funny, huh?" ---------------- Finally, your last class was over. Usually you'd be happy but unfortunately it did not go by as slow as you had hoped. You had no plan. You'd have to go to The Palace.

"I still can't believe you ain't tell me." Eden said, packing up her bag. You rolled your eyes at her dramatics, hearing her sniff like she was crying. You swung your own bag over your shoulder, waiting for her to be finished.

"Girl please. Like you be telling me every person that be dicking you down every two to five business days." You scoffed. Eden paused her actions, lifting her eyes to stare at me.

"You ain't een had to do that." She shook her head, finally fitting that fat ass computer into that small ass bag. She threw her bag on and we started to head to the door. As soon as we turned into the hallway we were face to face with Riri. She had been posted up on the wall checking her watch. Eden looked between the two of us, quickly dismissing herself while wishing me good luck.

Ri watched her leave before turning back to me, pushing herself off the wall. She was in the same outfit from before, except now her gold chain was untucked, and you could see what shoes she was wearing. They were just some dunks, ones Shuri bought all three of y'all so we could be matching. Coincidently, you happened to be wearing yours too. Riri leaned in closer to me, You thought she was going to greet you with a kiss. At the last minute, she swerved her head, reaching out and pulling my book bag from off your shoulder.

Yeah. Deserved that one.

She pulled your bag over her own shoulder, reaching her hand out to grab yours and smiling when you took it.

"I see ya attitude fixed." She said, using my hand to pull me so I was walking in front of her, then dropping it. "For now anyways."

"How you even here? I'm sure you got classes or something." You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself when you made it outside. It had gotten colder since morning. You'd forgotten to check the weather again and were wearing a short sleeve shirt. It was a little big too, which made it easier for the win to blow through.

"I got my ways. You of all people should know that by now." She answered shortly, giving you just enough for it to pass as an answer. You felt a soft fabric touch your shoulders and looked behind you to see Riri now in a grey shirt, continuing to make sure her hoodie was covering your shoulders.

"Thank you." You smiled, sticking your arms through the sleeves of the sweater. You zipped up the hoodie, leaning into the girl as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, now next to you. She leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"'Course, ma." She muttered, using her free hand to take her phone out. You sunk into her some more. As petty as you had been, you'd miss her. You'd miss them. Of course you did, but you still weren't happy about the girl. You knew, however, there was no competition. Riri and Shuri would never do that to you. It was just the mere fact that they had entertained her. That's the part that bothered you.

You went to turn into the parking lot, only to be pulled in another direction by Riri. You looked up at her confused, but followed her nonetheless. She led you to some field on campus where a group of white guys were hanging. Some throwing a football, others just sitting and talking. She went up to one of the ones that were sitting, snatching the phone out of his hand. Your eyes widened, stepping behind her a little as she dropped her arm from around you, using both hands to type on his phone.

"Yo! What the fuck?" He yelled, standing up so his height difference was apparent. Riri was unfazed, continuing to type something on his phone. You looked over her shoulder, only to see her stuck on his cashapp, he was signed out. Obviously she didn't know the boy's password.

"You owe me." She told him, muttering something else under her breath as she turned the phone to him. "5k."

"5- what?!" He gritted his teeth, glancing around to make sure no one heard what they were talking about.

"I supplied your entire party white boy. That's how much you and your frat bros snorted. Pay up." Riri demanded. One thing you were quick to learn about her, there were three things she didn't play about. One of those being her money. She was gonna get it one way or another and when the boy didn't move you had learned that today it was going to be another.

You could see Riri getting even more irritated than she already was about the payment being late in the first place. You saw her survey the place one last time before lifting her shirt just little, flashing something. You couldn't see it from behind her but the look on the boy's face told you what it was.

"Ok, damn." The boy agreed, snatching the phone. Riri dropped the end of her shirt, watching as he typed in the information. Soon he turned around the screen to face the two of you, showing that it was sent.

"Good, next time you do a deal with me again, have your money with you. I'm not doing no more after pay with you." She said, not waiting for a reply before she grabbed your hand again and started walking away.

She led you to a familiar foreign and flashy car, opening the door for you to get in and crawling in after you. You could see Okoye, their right hand women, in the driver's seat through the divider of the front and back of the car. You waved shyly and she smiled at you through the rear view mirror.

"I thought you wanted me to meet you at the club, not pick me up." You expressed with slight confusion in your voice. Riri finished typing some things on her phone, sliding it back into her pocket to give you her undivided attention.

"So now you wanna listen?" She questioned, doing the same tilt with her head that she always did when she was mad. So she was definitely still mad. Okoye voided her eyes of the situation after hearing Riri's words, sliding the divider closed. You looked down at your hands, picking at the fresh polish on your nails. Only looking up when you heard Riri snickering. "Clearly I had some business to handle, figured I'd might as well pick you up too. That way I knew you couldn't avoid us. Not that you could even if I didn't."

You rolled your eyes at her cocky behavior, pulling out your own phone from your pocket. You typed in some things, noticing Riri looking at your screen from her position. Dialing your sister's number, you put it up to your ear waiting for her to pick up. "Hey Bianca!" You greeted once it finally did.

"Hey y/n, what's up?"

"Do you have any plans for this weekend? I'm gonna be running a little late tomorrow night, but I don't want you to be staying up late if you do have something to do." You questioned, feeling slightly guilty to be asking this of her.

"No no, it's fine! He can stay longer, it's no problem." Kylie answered, you could practically hear the smile in her voice. Man she must love kids. Asante had been staying there for a week now. Bianca had practically begged for him to come over and spend some time with his cousins, of course you said yes. She didn't live far from you so it wasn't like he couldn't attend school, and you could seen him whenever you liked. He'd been staying there since Wednesday now.

"Ok, thank you so much! I'll send you guys more money for some food and stuff. Could you please put Asante on the phone?" You asked, deciding against ending this call just to call the 6 year old's iPad. The babysitter agreed, and soon you heard your son's voice.

"Hi mommy!" His preppy voice blared through the phone, making you slightly pull the phone away from your ear in surprise.

"Hey baby." You giggled out, putting the phone against your ear. "Mommy's gonna be a little late coming home tomorrow. Do you think you'll be ok? Bianca's gonna stay with you a little longer."

"Yes! I love Aunty Bey, she bought me a new toy car! Does this mean we can have pizza for dinner?"

"Yes, you can have pizza for dinner." You agreed, laughing at his celebrations over the phone. "Okay, when I take you home you can tell me all about school today. Call me if anything happens, okay? I love you."

"You can tell me about yours too! Love you mommy, bye bye."

"Bye, 'Sante." You sighed, hanging up the phone. You put your phone away, looking at Riri after feeling her eyes on you the whole time. "What?"

"Asante could always come to the house, if you want." She offered, not trying to pressure you. You shook your head, laughing at the suggestion.

"No, thank you. The boy hasn't even met you yet, love." You denied, rubbing your hand over her knee. Riri shrugged, throwing her arm to rest on the back of the seats.

"Who's fault is that?" She taunted, watching as you turned your head away from her. She used her hand to turn your head back to her, wanting you to see that she was serious. "Me and Shuri plan on making you a wife. We aren't going anywhere, y/n. We care about you, which means we care about Asante. But, he's your son, we're not going to pressure you into meeting him. Just know that we want to." She assured. You smiled, pulling her in for a hug which she graciously accepted, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head on your chest.

"Thank you."

It's not that you didn't want them to meet Asante, your feelings were growing stronger by the day. You didn't stop they'd ever stop growing, really. You were just worried. You didn't want your son hurt. Emotionally, you didn't want him to get attach only for them to not come home one day, a job gone wrong. Physically, they protected you already, and you knew they would protect him even more. But still, there was always room for human error, and you didn't know if that was a chance you were willing to take.

You loved them, but you would always love your son more. Who would you be to purposely put him in harms way for your own gain and comfort? Sacrifice was something you were used to when it came to Asante. But isn't that what mothers do? Then again, maybe there was supposed to be a certain balance. One that you didn't have. --------------- The Palace. It was their club, also their headquarters. It was protected and secured by all women bodyguards, Okoye being one of them. It was also where you met them for the first time, but that's neither here nor there.

You, Okoye, and Riri made your way through the entrance, the metal detector going off as you walked through, but no one said anything. Once you were inside, Riri pressed a small kiss to your head, making you turn to look at her questioningly.

"Go find Shuri, baby. I got something to handle real quick but I'll meet with y'all as soon as I'm done." She stated, signaling Okoye to follow her. You pressed a short kiss to her lips, wishing her luck with whatever she had to do. Then, both her and Okoye left your side.

You never felt scared to be alone in their club. You knew for a fact more than half of the guards were watching your every move, knowing they'd probably suffer consequences if anything happened to you under the roof of The Palace.

Anyway, back to the problem at hand.

You did not want to find Shuri. She was more than likely pissed. Just like you knew what made Riri mad, you knew what made Shuri mad. And one thing she hated was being ignored by anyone, and you were no exception.

There was also that fact that she was the harsher one out of the two. Usually, you could always pull one over with Riri. Talking back, rolling your eyes, smacking your lips, the whole nine yards. At least, for a while. After a certain amount of times she'd get mad too. But with Shuri, she'd be mad if she even heard you thinking about talking back.

You weren't scared of her by any means, you knew she wouldn't do anything to hurt you purposefully. Intimidated though? Oh yeah, 100 percent you were shitting your pants.

But their was no doubt Shuri had been alerted of your arrival and was keeping and eye out for you. So either she knew where your were and was on her way, or she was already here.

You sighed, excepting your fate as you made your way over to the stairs. She usually stayed on the upper two levels as they were more secluded and had some VIP sections. You climbed all the way up to the third level, hoping for some time to prepare yourself before she caught you.

Your hope was crushed when a hand wrapped around your throat, your back being pressed up against the wall behind you harshly. You were going to let out a panicked scream when your eyes met her familiar chocolate ones, a cocky smirk that her and Riri shared spreading across her face.

"My y/n." She greeted with a light smile, letting you catch a glimpse of the gold grills she wore today. You reached up to grab the wrist of the hang currently around your throat. Shuri noticed, loosening her grip just a little with caution. "What a surprise it is to see you here after what I think was-" She pretended to count on her free hand. "Right. Three weeks."

"It was actually two and a half weeks. Unless you rounded-" Your sentence was cut off when she tightened her grip once again, a silent warning that she was not in the mood for your slick comments today.

"Still a smart aleck." She observed. Her eyes trailed down your figure to take in your outfit, Riri's hoodie that was now open had fallen to an off the shoulder look, showcasing the cropped short sleeve you had on. Other than that, you just had on some simple ripped jeans with writing on them.

Her eyes returned to yours, a certain glint in her eye that made you nervous. Just like Riri had, she leaned in closer so that her lips were right next to your ear as she spoke, her tone sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to tell me why you think it is ok to ignore me. To ignore Ri."

Keeping your act up, your turned you head away so she wasn't right next to your ear. Shuri only chuckled at your defiance, taking the opportunity to mark up the now open side of your neck. The hand that was once around your throat moved down so it was on you hip, keeping you pinned against the wall as her lips trailed down, pressing light kisses to your neck that you knew would get harsher soon.

Shuri moved her head so she was in your line of sight again.

"Things haven't changed since you were gone. When I ask you something, you answer." She said, watching as you turned away from her again, crossing your arms. She took your chin in between her thumb and finger, forcing you to look at her. "What happened to my good girl, baby?" She asked, swiping her thumb over your bottom lip. For a second, you almost fell for it. But you snapped yourself out of it, ripping yourself from her grasp and quickly walking away from her before she could react.

You were confused when you didn't hear her footsteps following after you. She could easily catch up as you were still very in her line of sight. But soon your question was answered when Riri appeared out of nowhere, turning a corner and backing into the same position you were just in. Pressed against a wall.

"Such a fucking brat. Walking away when we're talking to you, talking back. What are we gonna do with you?" She asked rhetorically. She gave you a smile, letting her hand come up to pull at one of your hairs that had fallen out of the bun you made. Shuri came to stand next to her and you pressed yourself further into the wall, if that was even possible. Separately, you were willing to pull almost everything. But when the two were finally together, you knew better than to try anything.

Unfortunately, it was too late for anything else. You had to continue. Gots to see it through my boy.

You were gonna 'see it through' alright. ---------------- "Please, I came already." You whined, trying to push Shuri's head away as you came down from your high for the umpteenth time. Riri's hand grabbed yours, pulling them away while she kissed on your neck, trying to calm you down.

"Cum again." Shuri muttered, pressing a wet kiss to your overstimulated clit, chuckling when you jumped from how sensitive you were.

You three had been going at it for what felt like forever. After the whole confrontation, they drove you to their house, teasing you the whole way. Once you did get there, they spared no time getting you to the bed. Since then, it felt like you had done everything under the sun but stop.

Literally, everything. You'd lost count of how many times you'd came, but you knew for a fact it had to be in double digits. You could only imagine how you looked.

Hair frizzy, sweaty, tear stains running down your cheeks, cum around your lips that you were unable to wipe yourself. Riri and Shuri didn't bother to either, quite liking the look on you. You were exhausted, overstimulated, and clinging on to consciousness by a pinky toenail. But they never stopped. There hasn't been a break since you walked through the door.

At first, you were conflicted. You couldn't tell if you even wanted them to stop. It hurt so bad that it started to feel good. The pain blended in with the pleasure and you couldn't help but ask for more. But when you felt another one of Shuri's digits dip in for another round you knew something had to give.

"Okayyy, I'm sorry. Please." You begged, seeing your vision get cloudy as more tears appeared. Riri's voice came from behind you, you could feel her warm breath on your neck though you could barely make out what she was saying.

"Sorry for what, mama?" She pressed. All that came from you were mumbles of an apology as you still tried to break your hands from her grasp.

In the moment you weren't in a good position to realize it, but the fact that she could keep you pinned down with just her own strength was making you even more wet than you already were. Shuri realized though, smirking between your legs as she slowed down her pace.

Shuri used her free hand to push herself up from the bed, kissing up your body and over fresh marks until she met your tired eyes. "What are you sorry for?" She repeated, looking down at you with lidded eyes of her own.

You began to reply but only a groan left you when you felt her purposely angle her fingers at your favorite spot. "Hm?" She mocked, still waiting for an answer.

"M'm sorry for- fuck, sorry for ignoring you." You apologized, your head falling back onto Riri's shoulder as your eyes rolled behind your lids, feeling Shuri speed up once again, targeting that same spot. "Shit, Shuri please."

"Please what, baby?" She teased, tilting her head with a mock of confusion. You whined again, frustrated with her taunting.

She shared a look over your shoulder with Riri, who released your hands and started to pin down you hips instead. Your hands immediately flew out for something to ground you. The first things you could get your hands on being Shuri's wrist and Riri's hand.

"Do you want her stop or do you want more? You're confusing her baby." Riri added, watching closely at how your brows furrowed and your back arched when she applied the slightest amount of pressure to your abused clit, practically shoving you over the edge.

"Stop! I want her to stop." You mumbled, finally able to get your thoughts together enough to make a complete sentence. Having some pity, Shuri slowly dragged her fingers against your walls while she pulled out, curling them one last time just to see you squirm.

Just as slow, she brought them to her lips. Feeling both your and Riri's eyes watching her carefully, she decided at the last second that she wanted you to take them instead. She tapped them on your close lips, watching as you opened them to take in her coated digits.

Taking the sight in, she hums, obviously please with your obedience (as it did take a long time to get back). That was all the acknowledgement she gave you before she and Riri made eye contact over your shoulder again, and Riri's hand began to circle your bud again.

You whimpered, trying to back yourself into the girl to get away from her touch. They both ignored you in their own conversation about what to do with you, Riri keeping you in place while Shuri forced her fingers further down your throat, making you gag.

Suddenly, the feeling of Shuri was ripped from your mouth and replaced with Riri's tongue as they tried to distract you from the feeling of Shuri's slender fingers dipping back into your already sensitive hole. You immediately pulled away, already feeling yourself starting to ache.

"Shuriii." You dragged, watching as the girl lowered between your thighs again. She shushed you, placing a delicate kiss to your thigh, though dangerously close with your entrance.

"Just one more baby, I promise." She soothed, caressing the same thigh she had kissed with her free hand. "Can you do that for us, love?" She spoke softly, taking one of your hands in hers to kiss.

"You've been doing so good for us tonight, pretty girl. We just wanna make you feel good one last time, can you let us do that mama?" Riri coaxed from behind you, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach to calm you. Debating, you took Riri's hand in your other one, trying to relax yourself into her. "One more, we promise." She whispered, pressing a sweet kiss right under your ear.

"Okay." You agreed. Your words came out mumbled but they both understood you. Shuri smiled up at you, pressing another kiss to your thigh as a thanks before she joined her fingers that had never stopped moving.

The second her tongue makes contact with your clit your hands are fisting through her hair, pulling around the tight coils on her head.

There are a few more strokes of her tongue before she wraps her lips around your awaiting clit, your slick coating her tongue as she swirls it around your clit just before wrapping her lips around the bud.

Her fingers are buried deep inside of your cunt as she sucks your pulsing bundle of nerves into her mouth. There's a second where she sucks just hard enough to make your vision go white at the same time Riri decides to pinch and rub on the sensitive buds on your chest.

Feeling the coil in your stomach tighten, you let out a load moan when Shuri curls her fingers against your g spot one more time before you let go, clenching the sheets in your hand. Riri whispers sweet praises in your ear, rubbing soothing circles on your hips to calm you down while Shuri fingers you through your high, waiting for your legs to stop shaking before she pulls away, your essence coating both her fingers and lips.

She slipped the drenched fingers between her lips, licking your cum from between her fingers before leaning over your frame to trap Riri's lips in her own, who moaned at the familiar taste of you. Though you were drained, you still manage to keep your hooded eyes open long enough to watch them swapping your cum with each others tongues, eventually swallowing when they had enough.

"Are you ok baby?" Shuri checked, rubbing your side comfortingly. You nodded, sinking into Riri more as she rubbed your thighs. Shuri leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and nose, making you laugh tiredly, pushing her away. She smiled, leaving you to go get some new sheets, clothes and something to clean you up.

"It wasn't too much, right?" Riri asked softly. Confused by the question, you craned your head to look up at her, not even wanting to attempt to move your bottom half. Riri had already been looking down at you. "I mean, you didn't pass out this time, but still, we didn't overdo it too much?"

"No, Ri," You answered, reaching up with one of your hands to smooth over her cheek. "It felt good, I promise. Even though there was one point where I was fighting for consciousness." You joked and she smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. "To be fair though, it was supposed to be a punishment so I figured it wouldn't be all love making and soft caressing."

"Yeah, why were you ignoring us in the first place?" She questioned. You shrugged distractedly, running your thumb over her furrowed brow. "y/n, I'm serious." She said, taking your hand from her face and holding it in her's. You let out a dramatic groan. She was ruining the vibes.

"I got mad because y'all were talking to that bitch Ashley." You mumbled, playing with the hand that had took yours. Before she could even respond you continued on, defending your actions. "But I had a right to be mad, I mean y'all went into a whole ass private room with that chick. Without me!"

"Ok, first off, Okoye was in there so we couldn't have done anything, not like we would want to. We only talk to Ashley about business, that conversation wasn't any different. But, if it helps whenever we talk to her again, we'll make sure you're there too." She compromised and you agreed, thanking her. You two continued talking until Shuri returned with a wet cloth, some sheets, and new clothes.

And the night ended with a nice warm bath. Which you fell asleep in. ----------------

You groaned waking up to the sound of your ringtone. You stretched, feeling a certain weight on your chest. Looking down you saw Riri sleeping soundly with one hand up your shirt and on your boob, Shuri spooning her. You smiled at the sight, reaching over to your nightstand for your phone. You wondered how two supposedly high alert dealers hadn't woken up from the sound, but no matter.

"Bianca?" You mumbled, messing with the features on Riri's face. Two big and bag drug lords and yet they looked like puppies in their sleep.

"y/n, when are you coming to get Asante? No rush, because I'd keep him around forever if you'd let me, I just wanna have him packed up and ready to go." Your sister asked, you could hear your nieces and nephews running around in the background. You pulled the phone away from your ear, checking your phone and groaning once you saw how close it was to noon.

"I'll be there at like, one. I still have to shower and everything." You said, rubbing your hand down your face. You and Bianca chatted about some smaller things before she finally hung up, giving you time to get ready. You smiled at the two next to you, leaning down to press a kiss onto both of their lips, even though they weren't awake to respond to it.

You pulled Riri's strong grip off your titty. She was holding on it like a hungry newborn. You replaced yourself with the pillow behind you, slipping out of the bed, only for you to stumble into the nightstand when you did, startling both of them awake.

The two sprung up from their place as if they weren't just knocked with drool in the corner of their mouths, searching the room frantically until their eyes settled on you, who was currently using the nightstand to stand. They turned to look at each other, holding in their laughs. You glared at them, trying to keep yourself upright so they took your next words serious.

"Both of y'all shut the fuck up and come help me to the bathroom."

"We ain't een say nothing." Riri protested, though she swung her legs to the side, getting up to come help you.

"You ain't need to, your face said enough." You said, holding your hand up for her to help you. Riri disregarded your hand, her small frame bending down to toss you over her shoulder. "Riri!"

"You told me to help you, now you mad I'm helping you. You just acting like this cause we fucked ya lace front off and now you walking like there's an earthquake."

"Shut the hell up and take me to the damn bathroom, Riri!" You demanded, smacking her back and flipping off Shuri who watched on from her position in the bed, clearly amused. ----------------

BRING BACK SHURI AND RIRI X READER ALL 2024!! I'm jumping into the writing scene because i honestly miss the era where everything was about them, and i miss some of my fav writers😔✊🏾

anyways hope yall enjoyed

thank you guys for the inspiration, whether old fics or new @shinsousliya @inmyheadimobsessed @quintessencewrites @saintwrld @marsolgy @pinkwright @vixentheplanet

#riri williams #riri wiliams x reader #ironheart #ironheart x reader #shuri x reader #shuri udaku #shuri x riri #dominique thorne #letitia wright #shuriri x reader #shuri udaku x reader #riri x reader #wlw

229 notes · View notes

flordeamatista · 1 year

Note

ok but “i’ll eat you out if that makes you feel better” with this dbf!ari

Skin

pairing: dbf!ari levinson x reader

concept: Oh, honey, how I lust for you

word count: 1.5k

warnings: Poetic fluff with cute themes, poetic desire, fingering, reader mas-turbating, age gap, hair pulling on sweet Ari's hair, body worship, or-al (female receiving), c-um- play, nickname- (Honey),

a/n: It's a daydream I created for my own writing challenge Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge using two songs: Skin and Woo (the melody of the song)

I hope you can see the inspiration behind an old menace attack @sunshinebuckybarnes and thank you @mellowsaturns

lovely beta: @lunarbuck

Masterlist

Sunlight peeks through the blinds as it sets on another lonely afternoon

You have been consumed by stress over this design for the past few weeks. You have been unable to focus on anything else, and the pressure has been overwhelming. You know you must finish it for your client, but it feels impossible.

You need a break.

Taking a break is necessary to recharge and refocus your energy, allowing you to return to sewing with a clearer head.

All you need is some self-care and a thousand orgasms, and he's the only one you want to fulfill. You can feel the tension and stress leaving your body, and you can start to relax, allowing you to focus and feel more energized.

You close your eyes and imagine being in his big arms, feeling his tender caresses and hearing his whispered words of love. You take a deep breath and exhale slowly, feeling a sense of peace that washes over you.

I need to be adored and cherished

He just wanted to make sure you were okay. Having missed you at your family events, he’s been craving the opportunity to tease you since he knows what an impact he has on you. Your innocent eyes glow when you giggle, and your voice resonates with sweetness like honey in the air.. Considering he is your father's new business partner, he should not flirt with you, but he can't help but do so since you are so unique. He can't help but admire you. He knows, but that doesn't stop him from wanting to get to know you better.

He sees the half-open door in the studio office back at your house and knows you are inside. He enters the room, determined to get your attention. He hears your voice, but it is drowned out by moans.

Pleasure-filled.

All coherent thoughts leave his head and are blown away. It’s as if his mind is a canvas, and the explosion of emotions have painted it with an abstract swirl of colors. It never occurred to him that you would be pleasuring yourself out in the open and looking like a goddess with your hand between your legs while you lost in thought. The mix of emotions is like a tornado of colors, both vibrant and chaotic, that leaves his mind in a swirl of awe and delight. He will love having your legs around his head.

He stands in front of you, his eyes meeting your body, and he cautiously takes a step closer.

And no one else will ever know the true depth of our desire for each other.

Normally, he’d walk away, but he can’t when he hears you moaning, calling his name like a siren. He takes another step forward, his hands slowly reaching out to explore your body as he licks his lips. He can’t resist anymore and finally succumbed to his desires, walking closer until his breath fans over you.

You feel excitement wash over you, and you reach for your hand when you hear a sound from your fantasy world. You open your eyes and see a scene that you have imagined for so long. You take a moment to take it all in and take him in.

A fantasy, a moan.

"Ari, I was stressed. I didn't mean to do that," you whisper. You’re embarrassed that he saw and heard you calling his name.

Ari takes a deep breath and holds your gaze, his expression communicating understanding and compassion."It's alright," he says softly. "We all get stressed sometimes." He steps closer, his hand lightly touching yours.

You feel the warmth of his hand, and the tension in your body begins to ease.

A gentle smirk spreads across his face as he comments, "And you looked so peaceful, so relaxed, moaning my name."

It melts my heart to see your desire.

Ari grabs your wrist, belonging to the hand you had fucked yourself with, and brings your fingers to his mouth. His lips are gentle as he kisses each finger softly and slowly, taking his time to savor the taste of you on them.

Your neck is exposed to his lips as he slowly draws kisses from your fingers to your neck. His wet lips and beard mark your skin. His touch is gentle as he trails his fingers across your neck, and his lips press against your skin. His breath is warm and sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the electricity between you two, and the moments pass like seconds.

Despite the danger and wildness, you wanted to keep going with him.

"Please, Ari!" You need him more and more. Ari smiles and lowers his head to capture your lips with his own.

"Honey, what do you need? I'm glad to help you.” His tiny pecks and nibbles travel down the low neckline of your dress and nip gently at the curve of your breasts. Spitting on his fingers, he traces circles around your nipples with his cold fingers, sending shivers down your spine and inducing gasps in response. “I'll eat you out if that makes you feel better. I've got you.” He pulls back a bit, holding onto you so you will stay steady.

See you, touch you, kiss you!

“Stay there,” he demands.

Clearly, he knows what he was doing.

Bringing his palms up inch by inch, he kisses your thighs, his lips climbing higher and higher until he reaches your pussy. Before he walked in on you, you had taken off your underwear. "Relax, Honey, you're going to feel alive, I swear it." Ari blows gently on your pussy.

Kneeling down, he presses a kiss across your thighs, inching his way up. Using his large palms, he traces his tongue along your inner thighs until his face fades away between your legs. His tongue paints circles around your core, his lips and tongue working in tandem as he drags out your pleasure.

His fingers move in circles, pressing in and out as his tongue alternates between licking and sucking. Grabbing onto his hair, you pull it as you hear him mumble, "My sweet pussy"

Ari moves his finger with a slow, regular rhythm. Increasing his pace, Ari's movements become more vigorous, and he teases you with every stroke, edging you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure.

He gave you what you wanted most. He made you feel special.

“So wet and tight for me.” His words bring you closer to the edge “My sweet Honey is so naughty for me, only for me.”

In an instant, he slips in and out, sliding in a second finger while teasing your clit with his thumb. It is like a conductor leading an orchestra, gently guiding you towards the crescendo of bliss. Your breasts produce a fantastic display of cleavage as he watches them rise and fall with his movements.

Ari groans into your clit, flicking his tongue against it, craning his fingers forward so he can find the tender spot inside that pushes your body to the edge. You gasp as he hits the spot, his tongue and fingers working together in sync. Your body quivers and your orgasm comes closer. He keeps up the pressure, and soon enough you feel yourself falling over the edge. Ari laps up the evidence of your pleasure before resting his forehead against your inner thigh, breathing heavily. He kisses your stomach softly and pulls away, his eyes heavy with satisfaction.

I map every inch of your sweet skin with fierce kisses

You smile, feeling a warmth like never before spread through your body.

"Feel better, Honey," he says, lips glistening. As you release his long dark brown hair from your fingertips, you tug him just a little so that he can stand up and kiss you. You taste yourself on his lips with the mixture of his own unique taste.

His fingers fumble for the hem of your dress, and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. "I need another thing to help me," you repeat to him, looking into his blue ocean eyes as you jump onto him.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, Ari carries you out to perform yet another stress-relief exercise. "Let's do something big to forget the world," you moan in his ear. With a swift motion, he carries you up the stairs and away from reality.

You are both off to a place where the worries of the world seem to be forgotten.

Oh, honey, how I lust for you

925 notes · View notes

steeltraptrainer · 7 days

Text

Something feels different. Something feels so very different. More tangible. The blood-drenched air of Yharnam filling their lungs to the brim.

"Ah, you're awake. Are you two alright?" Djura is sitting on the floor of the tower, midway through taking his Stake Driver apart.

"As much as we can be, I think." Ferro breathes. "Something is different, but... Dist if I know what."

"Try to keep an eye on that. Yharnam has its way of taking its pound of flesh." Djura taps away at his knee. "If you yearn for the blood, do find Eileen."

"I don't think it's that." Giacomo frowns. "Everything feels more tangible. Less... dreamy?" That makes Djura's small motions stop.

"Less dreamy, you say?" He takes a breath. "You might be getting more tethered here, then. You'll need to hurry if you still want to go home." He puts down the weapon in his grip. "Talk to the old man. He knows more than he lets on."

---

Gehrman feels so tired. The two newest Hunters are too young for this. Far too young. And he can feel Flora's grasp on them grow tighter by the minute. Every step they take to end the cries of Mergo brings them into the dream more. He carefully wheels himself out of the Workshop, looks over the dreamscape. At the bottom of the stairs, the Doll is sitting with books in her lap, carefully sounding out the words. He can barely see the contents from where he sits, up above. The pages are very colorful, brighter than anything he has ever seen. Likely a children's book. At the Doll's feet, the Messengers collect and crowd, listening intently. It's... nice. Domestic. A hint that she is in fact more than what he likes to pretend she is. More than a sum of his failures.

"Gehrman?" He turns his head a bit, sees the two new Hunters in the back of the workshop. "We... may need help."

"Is that so?" He tilts his head a bit. "Very well then, tell me about the issue."

"This entire place, Yharnam... It feels more tangible." The elder of the two sounds chagrined as he speaks. "We need to get out. We can't get stuck here."

"... Ah." He has an idea what might be happening. "Help me back inside. One of you will need to help me get a book from the shelves. These old bones are not what they used to be." He would bring them the Sunrise again. It might be the last and least he could do for them.

---

In an abstract sense, Ferro and Giacomo know that they have to find a Great One to end it. To finish the nightmare enveloping Yharnam. They need two of them. Rom, and Mergo. The book that Gehrman has them get from the shelf can only be called a book in the most abstract sense. It's a ledger. A ledger filled with notes and papers.

"There is something you could do to end it all. You would need a siderite edge." Ferro's gaze wanders to his scythe. "Yes, exactly like the one you yourself carry. Siderite can cut dreams. There is, however, no guarantee it will work how you want it to." Tired old eyes in a sunken face. "It might send you home. It might also tear you from the Hunter's Dream, and leave you in Yharnam dreamless. In danger."

"So we are fucked." Giacomo's hands bunch into fists. "Great. Fuck. Okay. So. How do we make sure Yharnam is less... That."

"You would have to end the Healing Church's greatest shame for that."

"Then we do that. Bit by bit, until we are done." Ferro says, voice more resolute than he feels. "Step by step. What is the next thing we could do?"

"Hm... You have found a chalice, yes?" Gehrman hums in thought. "Then you have to set out for Byrgenwerth. You know the adage. Seek for Rom. She will lead the way."

"Then we do that."

"May you have a fruitful hunt, then. Take care."

---

"Hello Miss Doll." The Doll looks up from the book. At her feet, the Messengers groan in discontent. They want to hear more of the book. "What are you doing?"

"Reading to the little ones. They like to listen." Her lips tug into a smile. "It is a fun book. I hope to one day be able to see one of these Pokémon from your home. I find myself rather partial to Shuppet. They are sweet."

"Maybe you can. That'd be nice." Giacomo smiles at her. He looks tired. "I think they might flock to you."

"We'll find a way to get you over, Miss Doll."

"Then I will look forward to your efforts, you two." She tilts her head a bit. "Is there anything you want?"

"Just wanted to check in. We've got a job, so we 'll be back!" She watches them leave. And after a moment, she picks the book back up. She knows Gehrman is sitting at the edge of the workshop, listening. And so she reads just a little louder. He, too, deserves some solace and happiness.

"The little Applin wanted to have a party with her friends. But where could she hold it? After all, her friends were Water Types. And so she started thinking..."

---

"We're going to be having a fine time of it here." Ferro twirls his scythe a bit. "But we can do this. To Byrgenwerth we go?"

"Yeah, we will." Giacomo nods, cracks his knuckles. And then, at last... that familiar fuzziness.

T h e y

w a k e

u p

#rotomblr #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #dreams of hunting arc

7 notes · View notes

ninjaturtlemaniac · 7 hours

Text

John Dory and Sable ❤️

Short Story - One Shot

CONTEXT

The night before the Met Gala John Dory visits Sable after one of her shows. He basically wanted to confront his childhood bully. He wanted to be an adult about it and get some stuff off his chest. He ends up blowing up at her. Sable is of course hurt, but lets him yell. John realizes he is basically yelling at her for every mistake that HE has made. He is suddenly embarrassed for directing his rage at her, clumsily apologizes and leaves.

The next night at the Met Gala, Sable has just finished performing for all the guests and John Dory has retreated to a huge, empty wing of the museum, filled with nature themed paintings.

***

John absentmindedly stared at a huge painting. His mind is somewhere else.

Sable appeared at a corner doorway “I didn't know you were a connoisseur of the arts, John Dory. I'm impressed.”

“I’ll have you know, I'm a regular one of those art ugh…consumers.”

They both look towards the huge abstract painting.

“‘East Meets West.” Sable begins to explain the painting in front of them “A portrayal of the end to a timeless conflict. Merging of cultures. Both to grow greater than ever seen before.”

Okay, he was a little impressed that she knew that off the top of her head “Wow, really?”

Sable snorts “I have no idea, it sounded pretty real though, didn't it?”

JD smiles a little before sighing “Sable. About last night. I was acting like a moron. I was taking things out on you. I shouldn'ta done that and I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, you are a moron.”

John deadpans.

“However, I think it needed to happen. It seemed like you had been holding that in for a while?”

“Does twenty years count as a while?”

“One would think so.” she shook her head.

They both stare at the painting again.

“I forgive you for your outburst. However, some of your anger wasn't misdirected, John Dory. I am aware that I wasn't kind in my youth. Try as I might, I can't change who I was then, but I'm trying to be a better Troll now. You don't have to forgive me, but I do sincerely apologize for the way I have treated you in the past.”

“Did you practice that?” he frowned.

“Unfortunately, due to my behavior I have had to make this apology to quite a few Trolls.” she sighed sadly.

John Dory considered her words carefully.

And he stuck out his hand.

“Truce?”

Sable offered him a grateful smile and accepted his hand.

“Truce” They firmly shake hands.

“I would very much still like to make it up to you, John Dory. I would love for you and your wife to be my dinner guests.”

“Nah, you do have to make…hold on, me and my what?”

“You… your wife?”

“I don't have a wife” he laughed awkwardly.

“Then… who's Rhonda?”

John Dory suddenly understands the confusion and chuckles.

*cuts to outside, where all the critters are ‘parked’ Unfortunately the water from the Techno Trolls critters had turned the ground into a thick mud which Rhonda had evidently been rolling around in.*

JD whistles and a muddy Rhonda comes bouncing over to the edge of the pen.

John opens the pen gate before realizing his fancy gala cape will drag in the mud. He unties it, not quite sure where to put it. Without thinking he drapes it over Sable’s shoulders.

Sable is startled at first but quickly takes hold of the cape before it falls off.

“Look how muddy you are! Just couldn't resist, could you girl! No, you couldn't. Had to pay back Daddy for making you have a bath today huh?! Yes you did!” JD cooed to Rhonda as he scratched under her chin. It causes her back leg to twitch.

Sable smiled at the sweet sight.

John gestures between them.“Rhonda, Sable. Sable, Rhonda.”

“Good evening Rhonda, that is a lovely pink bow. Very elegant.”

Rhonda frowned, looking Sable up and down. She hadn't decided yet whether she liked Sable or if she should eat Sable.

“Sable invited us to dinner, Rhonda. Isn't that nice of her?” JD leaned his ear in. Rhonda did not make any kind of noise in response. “Rhonda says thanks for the invite, but gosh darn, wouldn’t ya know, she’s got plans.” John shrugged.

Rhonda frowned at JD. What in the world was he talking about?

“Oh Rhonda, what poor timing I have.” Sable reached out to stroke Rhonda’s face but Rhonda quickly leaned away from her touch and shifted closer to JD.

“Yah, regular party animal, she is.” he chuckled.

Rhonda side-eyed JD.

“Well, Rhonda with your permission, I request to borrow John Dory tomorrow night as my dinner guest.”

Rhonda frowned at her.

“In return, perhaps when your schedule opens up, you and I can schedule a mud bath together.”

Rhonda huffed.

“Rhonda, what has gotten into you?” John Dory raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

Rhonda raised an eyebrow at him as if to say “Me?”

“She's quite territorial of you.”

“Yah, she's a good one. Aren't ya Rhonda? Who's my best girl? Always looking out for meeeeee!” He cooed as he scratched her cheek.

Rhonda accepted the scratches but still kept one eye on Sable.

Rhonda pulled away from John Dory and stretched out her legs.

Oh no.

“Rhonda, don’t!” he warned.

Shake shake shake shake shake

Mud goes flying and lands on JD and Sable.

JD was horrified “Rhonda! We don't cover nice Trolls with mud! Bad Rhonda!”

Rhonda rolled her eyes and wanders off.

“What the… where is this attitude coming from, young lady?”

Sable giggled as she looked down at the mud covering her.

“I am so sorry about Rhonda, Sable” he pulled the cape off of her shoulders. “I do not know what her problem is but she will be getting a stern, talking to when we get home.”

Fancy cape be darned, he used it to wipe the mud off of Sable.

“No harm done John Dory. Rhonda is just protecting you. It's sweet really.”

“If you wanna cancel dinner, I totally get it.” he sighed almost sadly.

“A little mud isn't scaring me off, John Dory but if you don't wanna have dinner with me you could have just said so. You didn't have to send your attack armadillo after me.”

He hesitated with the cape but then wiped the mud off her face “One look from a pretty Troll and she's immediately jealous.”

“Careful John Dory. You just called me pretty.” she smirked.

Oh sugar.

“What? No I didn't…I…I said that you think that you're pretty.” he blushed just a little bit.

She raised an eyebrow at him but let it slide.

He flicked out the mud from the cape the best he could and threw it over his shoulder “Ya sure you wanna be seen in public with me? Gossip magazines will be all over it.”

“I am fully prepared to risk such a scandal, John Dory.”

“Ya sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

“But are ya sure?”

“Jonathan Dorian!”

“Alright alright, you don't have to beg. I'll go to dinner with you.” he smirked. He offered her a hand to help her down from the stone they were standing on.

“Very well, it's a date then. However, I'll have to let you know the details later. They should be serving the entrees right about now.” She turned to make her way back to the Gala.

He smirked at the thought of food but suddenly stopped in his tracks, falling behind as she continued on.

Hold on, it's a what?

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls band together #trolls brozone #trolls john dory #character design #trolls movie #trolls oc #trolls fandom #trolls dreamworks #trolls 3 #trolls headcanons #the sugar gals #JohnDory x Sable #trolls met gala #artists on tumblr #Trolls sable

6 notes · View notes

my-own-walker · 6 months

Text

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

14.

*TW for this chapter: Proceed with caution if SA-themes trigger you. If things don't seem right at a party, find a friend! Get out of the situation. And make sure you cover your drink!*

Like an impressionist painting, things start to make more sense the further you step away from them. The amalgamation of all those abstract blots and brush strokes is a beautiful scene. The confusion you feel up close becomes worth it when you see the payoff.

That's how life is. The further you move away from the events that happen, the more they make sense in the larger landscape of your life.

My first day back at class after things went down with Kyle and Archie was hell. I was so nervous to go back, that I physically shook as I walked to the lecture hall. My tendency to get there early was heightened, and I arrived nearly an hour prior to the class's start time. I had to wait for the lecture that was in there before us to finish and for all of the students to file out before I could go in. I had to make sure I had the complete pick of the litter as far as seats went.

I picked a spot in the back of the room furthest from the door. Sure, I'd suffer and probably not be able to see the board, but I didn't care. A few of my classmates arrived after a while. I put up the hood of my, well, Lily's, oversized sweatshirt and buried my head in my phone. The chairs all around me filled up. I was definitely in someone's unassigned-assigned seat.

Too bad, I'm here for the rest of the semester, I thought to myself.

Professor Edwards began the lecture at the regular start time, so I found it safe to lift my head and look around a bit. I squinted over at my usual place in the room. One seat sat vacant. Some random had taken mine, and Kyle was not in his. I scanned the room for a mop of blonde hair. He was nowhere to be found.

The lecture hall's doors flew open and a visibly flustered Kyle Spencer raced inside and to his usual seat. I breathed a sigh of relief that his lateness meant he had no time to look for me.

I received a text from him that Thursday after I neglected to show up at his at 7 p.m.

Hey. I worked on a bit of the project by myself. Let me know when you want to meet up and look it over.

I, of course, ignored it. The next Thursday, around 9 p.m., I got another message.

Hi. Have you been coming to class? I haven't seen you. Are you okay?

Then another, two minutes later.

I get that you don't want to see me right now, but I emailed you what I got done. Can you look it over, please?

I looked the Word document with out project on it over and shrugged. Looked fine.

Looks fine.

Okay, awesome, sounds good. See you in class tomorrow?

I deleted the text chain and locked my phone. I did not, in fact, see him the next day. I did not hear from him again until the next Thursday, October 17, really late at night. About 11:56 p.m. to be exact.

Hannah, can we talk? In person? We just need to get this work for class done. We can't do that if you hate me.

I, once again, deleted the text chain and locked my phone.

Friday night rolled around in no time, and Lily finally convinced me to go to a party for the first time since Kyle humiliated me at the tri-Delta party. I felt good. For once, I felt legitimately confident about the calculus quiz I had taken earlier in the day.

"Ah!" I cried out, wincing and sticking my finger in my mouth, dropping the piece of Lily's hair that was in my hand.

"Burn yourself?" she asked smugly, looking at me in the mirror in front of us.

"Yes, your fucking curling iron sucks," I laughed, shaking my hand a few times in the air before grabbing another strand of hair. She stifled a giggle.

"Don't make me laugh while I'm doing my eyeliner," she complained. I wrapped her blonde hair around the hot rod and held it for a moment, then released it. It fell down and bounced like the spring it had become.

We were getting ready for another mixer between her sorority and Kappa Alpha, a lesser-known, less-douche-y frat on campus. Usually mixers have creative themes. This one's theme was "formal." Real creative, right?

I finished curling Lily's hair and unplugged the curling iron. "You look beautiful, Lil," I smiled. She put a finishing layer of powder on her face. She wore a strapless, black satin cocktail dress. She paired it with gold eyeshadow and a pale nude lipstick.

"You don't look half-bad yourself," she replied. I stepped over to the full-length mirror in her room and examined myself. I wore a pink and brown lace babydoll dress that I found at the thrift store. I wore my hair natural and down, and paired it with winged eyeliner and brown mary-jane flats.

I smoothed the front of my dress and sighed. "Are you ready to go?" I asked.

"Just...a bit...more hairspray," Lily muttered, waving the aerosol can around her head rapidly. "My hair doesn't hold curls for shit."

We walked to the party, as Kappa Alpha was less than a block away from us. It was crowded when we got there, but only mildly so. We spent the first hour dancing and socializing together. Lily knew this was hard for me, so she stuck by my side, which was very unlike her.

That was until I started talking to Julian. Jules, his friends called him. He was a senior in KA. He lived in the house on the ground floor.

He was tall and brooding. He had tired eyes and long hair. He wore a loose-fitting suit, his off-white dress shirt untucked from his pants. His blue and red striped tie hung loose around his neck, complete with a haphazard knot holding it in its position. His voice was low and quiet, almost as if everything he said was a secret no one else but you could know.

"Hannah, you said your name was?" he asked with a slight smile. We both leaned against the wall in the living room, which was now filling up pretty decently. It was common for mixers to get crashed, it seemed, as members from TKE, Tri-Delt, KLG, and other Greek organizations started filing in.

I held a cup with some rum and coke in it. He lazily held a beer bottle between his fingers. He had to stoop down to hear me better. Like, really stooped down. He had at least an entire foot on me. The height difference was somewhat of a turn-on for me.

"Hannah Martin," I said with a smile, right next to his ear.

"Jules," he replied, putting out his hand for me to shake it. I blushed and took him up on the offer even the slightest touch. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Uh, I don't think so," I answered, shyly. "I'll admit I only barely recognize you myself, and I come to a lot of these things."

"Are you in Pi Phi?" he asked. The way he had to really lean down to talk to me made my stomach twist and my cheeks burn hot. That mixed with a bit of liquor made me feel quite funny.

"No, I'm just a friend. Designated friend," I stammered. "My friend is in Pi Phi, she drags me to these things."

"I kinda thought you didn't belong, but I didn't want to be rude," he chuckled. "I like your vibe."

I stood up straight and shifted the weight on my feet. "Hey, I was thinking the same thing about you, to be fair," I admitted. "God, it's getting loud in here."

"I'm only in this frat for the excuses to drink," he professed. He took a large swig out of his beer bottle, finished it off, and then put the empty down on one of the shelves of the bookcase next to us. Then, he placed both of his hands on my shoulders. "May I lead you to my room, Hannah Martin?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk.

"Oh, uh, I," I stuttered.

"To hear each other better," he assured. "I'm right in there." He pointed at a door across the room.

"Um, sure then," I smiled, bashfully, biting my fingernail. He spun me around, then replaced his hands on my shoulders, guiding me forward as we started to his bedroom.

When we got to the door, I stopped to let him open it himself. He unlocked it with a key and grabbed me with his free hand, pulling me in. I looked around at the dimly lit room. It was small, one full-sized bed in the corner of the room, clad with red sheets. The walls were plastered with posters. A record player sat atop a small wooden bookcase packed full of vinyl. It was leagues quieter in his room. I took a large sip of my drink.

"Closed or open?" Jules asked, still stood by the door, pointing at it. His posture was entirely open and loose. I felt I could trust him, as there seemed to be no "want" in his gaze.

"You can close it," I rasped. "It'll be quieter that way."

He crossed the room, passing me as he made his way to the record player. "Saw you looking at these," he muttered. He knelt down in front of the case. "What do you like? I'll see if I have it."

"God," I sighed, scanning the posters in his room to see what bands he may have. The Doors, The Stooges, Talking Heads, Velvet Underground. I took another sip of my drink, thinking, then landing upon a possible band. "Ooh, uh, Sonic Youth?" I looked over at him and watched a smirk creep across his face.

"Wow, okay," he breathed, thumbing through this collection. "I have....Daydream Nation....and Rather Ripped."

"Rather Ripped, definitely. Play Incinerate," I requested.

He pulled the record out, then shook the vinyl loose from its cover. "You're lying," he snarked. "There's no way you know these guys."

"Ah, Jules, but I do," I sighed, feigning wistfulness. I took yet another sip from my drink and watched as he loaded the record onto the player and moved the needle over to the song I asked for. He turned to face me and smiled.

"Here, uh, sit," he mumbled, gesturing toward his bed. I meandered over and flopped down lightly, letting my dress poof as I landed. He joined me, sitting only for a moment before looking at my cup. "You're running low, can I get you something?"

"Oh, my drink?" I asked, eyebrow cocked. I looked around for a place to put the cup. "You don't have to worry about it I'm fi-"

"No," he cut me off. "What were you drinking? I'll get you more."

Surprised by his insistence, but blushing at his chivalry, I nodded. "I, uh, just get me whatever, I'm not picky." He grabbed the cup out of my hand and walked over to a mini fridge that sat in the corner of the room closest to the door.

"Would something from here work?"

"Yeah, I don't care, I wouldn't want to venture out into the party either," I giggled, watching him open the fridge's door and look around inside.

"Oh, Hannah, can you, uh, turn the record over?" he asked. "I wanna hear Turquoise Boy." I stood, turned my back to him, and walked over to the record player. I lifted the needle, lifted the record up, and flipped it over, scanning the label for what the track number of the song he wanted was. Then, I moved the needle over to the third song in and turned on my heel, nearly crashing into him.

Jules stood, towering over me, my cup in his hand. I looked up at him, beaming a sweet smile. "Thank you, Julian." I tasted the drink. It was fizzy and bitter. Beer. "Big beer guy, huh?"

He laughed nervously. "I wouldn't say that," he scratched the back of his head. "It's just what I had." Jules grabbed my wrist and led me back to his bed. He flopped down in a half-laying position. I sat down, just next to his hip, facing him.

"Your room is cool," I noted, looking around. "I have a lot of posters like this."

"Ah, you do?"

"Oh tons," I chuckled. "Lot of cool bands up here, though."

He looked up as well. "I guess," he shrugged.

"No, seriously," I insisted. "Talking Heads, Buzzcocks, Radiohead, Descendents. I mean they're all amazing."

"You know Buzzcocks?" he gasped. "I've never met a girl cooler than you. How are you real?"

"Oh shut up," I giggled, pushing the center of his chest. I took another sip of my drink.

"Do you happen to know what time it is?" Jules asked, sitting up a bit.

I felt around for my phone in the top of my dress and rolled my eyes. "I would be able to tell you if I had my phone," I groaned. "I must have left it somewhere."

"Ah, okay," he trailed off. "Well, that's fine. I'm happy talking to you anyway. Where are you from, Hannah Martin?"

I felt a small bit of tunnel vision come on. Nothing too crazy. I chalked it up as drinking too much too fast. "Uh, 'm from Massachusetts, near Salem," I answered.

"Oh, so you're a witch?" he snarked. I laughed a little too hard at the comment, resting my head on his shoulder.

Damn, Hannah, get it together. You're throwing yourself all over him. Desperate, my internal voice warned. He rubbed my back and chuckled as well. "I'm, I'm not a witch," I stammered. "Just w-weird."

"Yeah?" he cooed. Julian's touch and low voice were calming. I tried to lift my head to look at him but couldn't.

"Jules, I...I," I began.

"Shh," he soothed, stroking my hair. "You're okay."

It suddenly felt natural for my eyes to be closed. An all-encompassing wave of exhaustion hit me. The pull of soothing darkness enticed me. And altogether, my consciousness slipped.

Previous Part | Next Part

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #evan peters oneshot #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer imagine #kyle spencer fanfic #franken kyle #ahs fanfic #ahs coven

19 notes · View notes

morlock-holmes · 1 year

Note

In re: your recent threads about organizations caring about you as an individual, I’d like to propose that the actual phenomenon might be bilateral vs multilateral relations. An employer is free to fire you whenever your cost to them exceeds your expected benefit because no one else feels entitled to comment on your relationship. In a church, other churchgoers care about the way the church treats you, which constrains leadership. But the difference seems very much in the part of those bystanders rather the organization and its leadership

2/2

N "Same anon who asked about multilateral/vs bilateral relations. Realized that in editing for length lost the acknowledgment that this is only part of the solution. There do exist inalienable relationships, your exampl of the king e.g. or a mother perhaps. Even when a childs relationship with their mother breaks down, or another woman fills most of that role, the original mother is widely viewed to still have some rights in the relationship. But this needs a multilateral relationship to have others to recognize and enforce these rights even if the kid doesn’t want to"

Thanks for the response, I think you're getting at something.

But I want to go up even a level of abstraction beyond that.

Mother is actually a really good example, because even though your relationship to your mother can change, it is still *comprehensible as a relationship to your mother*.

Like, maybe your mother shouldn't have any rights because she's abusive; maybe you say something like, "My mother was a real piece of work, she stopped talking to me after I came out."

But it would be fairly rare, and fairly extreme to say, "That woman used to be my mother but now she isn't".

There is, in other words, still a distinction between "bad mother" and "not mother" even in cases where you don't have any real contact anymore.

Contrast with the situation of the company going belly-up:

While the company existed, you had a comprehensible relationship with, say, Betty in HR. She's the one who does those anti-discrimination presentations and once talked through a dispute with a co-worker.

Then the company disappears and both of you are laid off.

What's your relationship with Betty?

Well... I mean... Nothing I guess. We weren't friends so I guess we aren't anything to each other at all now.

In other words, you went from having a comprehensible, verbalizable relationship to one which can't be understood as a relationship of any sort, good or bad.

This can be confused because I'm using a slightly odd definition of the word "relationship".

You might easily say "I don't really have a relationship with my mother anymore" and we understand that to mean, "I've cut contact with my mother".

But that's a slightly different definition than what I mean. Even though you've cut contact, that she is your mother and you are her child still remains as a comprehensible statement.

Once Betty and I have both been laid off the concepts and structures that allowed us to verbalize some kind of connection or relationship are just gone. We can talk about what our relationship *used to be* but not what it *is.*

I think that this is psychologically distressing on its own terms, not just because it involves being exploited or ignored or treated as a means to an end or because something you valued has been destroyed; All of those things *are* distressing but I think that particular form of disintegration of relationships is itself stressful in ways that cannot just be reduced down to those other problems.

14 notes · View notes

ukfrislandembassy · 3 months

Text

Kinda spitballing a hypothesis here based off of an I once saw somewhere in the conlanging corner of the internet (I think it was on an episode of Conlangery talking about extremely regular philosophical languages? @gacorley might remember), but I've got an idea about lexical structure, because it seems to me like there's two opposing trends in Language when it comes to semantic fields.

On the one hand, from the perspective of acquisition and to some extent production it's nice to have words that are derivationally related to each other, both because it makes it possible to 'work out' the meaning of the word even in the absence of actual real-world context and because new words can easily be coined to fill lacunae in vocabulary. 'My father is a weaver; What does he do for a living? He weaves' kinda stuff.

But on the other hand, from the perspective of perception you don't really want words that sound similar to each other, particularly in the same semantic field, because when you're talking about those topics, well, if everything sounds similar (especially in a noisy environment where you might not be able to hear entirely clearly) then you're going to start to get confused very quickly. 'Judges judge what judgements are just' sort of thing (see also 'oligosynthesis'), as well as of course 'Acronym and Abbreviation Overload' type phenomena (after all, there's only 26 possible syllables in an acronym...).

I think the fact that languages will vary between favouring one over the other does likely have impacts on learnability. The effect is not going to be major in comparison to other things, but there's unlikely to be nothing there.

For instance, obviously for a speaker of a language that makes a lot of use of derivation (Russian, say), English must be made harder to learn by the number of separate roots needed (like we have entirely different roots for the meat of domestic animals for pity's sake!).

But at the same time, for me, a native speaker of English, part of the irritation of learning Russian is that nobody is there teaching you the derivational morphology that enables you to make a guess at the approximate meaning of расследование from identifying the root (след 'trail') and building up from there (verbaliser -ова-, prepositional prefix рас- and adjectivaliser/abstract nominaliser -ние; the end result means 'investigation'), nor am I really that used to making use of that because in English you so often can't.

I'll note that this is kind of similar to a proposal made in Trudgill's Sociolinguistic Typology (2011), where he points out that small sound systems like Hawai'ian can be found in isolated languages precisely because all the words start to sound the same and context (i.e. shared background information between participants, more available in smaller societies) is more necessary to disambiguate what's being said. I think what I'm proposing is kinda orthogonal to this, because both extremes are kinda difficult, and there's several kinds of factor which can influence a language's tendency in either direction (English for instance has its several layers of historically more prestigious foreign vocabulary from having spent time as the language of an underclass, while 'pidgin-adjacent' creoles are of course forced to 'make do' with limited lexical resources they have, thus giving rise to stuff like Tok Pisin gras bilong fes 'beard'), but perhaps that's something for me to write about somewhere else.

#linguistics #typology

5 notes · View notes

mollish-art · 4 months

Note

HOW DO YOU WRITE SO AMAZINGLY WOULD YOU HAVE ANY TIPS I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF UNPERSONS IT'S SO GOOD

eeeEEEEE thank you so much!!! That's really sweet of you to say - I'm so happy that you're enjoying the story so far!!

This is honestly the first I'm I've even attempted to write anything of this length before, so I'm amazed it's been received so positively.

I am by no means a professional writer, nor have I taken any creative writing classes or been to any workshops, but I'll just let you know what I tried to keep in mind, as that seemed to work for me! Take this with a grain of salt, though :)

When I was in the midst of writing, I was absolutely hyperfixated. The story was literally all I thought about. I only listened to the playlists I curated for it on repeat, even when not writing or drawing concept art for it. It was honestly a little unhealthy lmao but it gave me the stamina and inspiration I needed to sit for long hours and just write.

First things first: I wrote a really rough plan of how I wanted all of the scenes to play out, color-coding the headings by perspective. I even gave each segment heading names that were eventually removed from the final draft of each chapter. For example, here are the perspective titles for chapters 2 and 3:

And here is a random screenshot of some of the plot outline from Chapter 3:

I'd put random keywords in there along with media references and links to concept art etc to jog my brain as well.

This helped me to keep overarching goals in mind when I actually began to write the chapters themselves. I also wrote everything in order - I never skipped over writing certain scenes. That might work for some people, but not me hehe

What's very important to note though is that as I was in the middle of writing each chapter, I simply wrote what felt right. If something seemed to just work better, even if it went against my initial outline, I would write that instead.

Additionally, I constantly assessed my strengths and weaknesses. I feel far more comfortable describing physical and emotional reactions than I do writing dialogue, so I would always pay particuarly close attention to the dialogue I wrote when editing. I would often read whole segments out loud so as to avoid as many cases of "he-would-NOT-fucking-say-that"-syndrome as possible.

Also, I would take frequent breaks. If a scene I was writing just was not coming together, I'd stop writing for a while rather than burning myself out.

I tried to take into account some advice I heard from somewhere else as much as I could, namely to balance descriptions of the environment with dialogue, both internal and external. I tried to catch myself whenever I noticed I was dedicating a huge, uniterrupted chunk of text to only dialogue or only environomental description.

Another thing: I like using figurative language. A lot. Probably a little too much. But I like being dramatic and artsy (a bit like my characterization of Hetch, I suppose), so I would include a lot of metaphors and similes within my writing. I feel like it helps to paint more of an abstract picture and let the reader fill in the gaps themselves with their mind rather than to give too many minute details, as that can get boring pretty quickly.

Lastly, I revised my drafts many times before I sent them to my beta readers, checking mostly for continuity errors, flow, and any grammatical/spelling errors. I'd often do my revisions aloud to myself, as I tend to catch more awkward sentences that way as opposed to just reading it silently to myself!

Hopefully some of that is helpful :) Honestly, the biggest piece of advice I can give is to just get out there and write. I didn't know I was capable of pulling this off until I sat down and did it. And, most of alll, I was writing more for myself than anyone else. In other words, I just had fun with it! I didn't really care if people would resonate with it, all that I knew is that I enjoyed writing it myself. Thankfully, that seemed to come across! I'm still blown away by how Unperson has been received so far. I'm really looking forward to getting the chance to get back to writing it again!

#UnpersonGL #sorry for how long this is hhhhhh

6 notes · View notes

cozage · 1 year

Note

Happy birthday Cozage!! 💙💙💙 I already told you this (if you remember the blue hearts) but I LOVE your writing!

I have a question!

When I was younger (Lol this sound as if I'm super old but I'm very close to your age) I really enjoyed writing fics with my favourite characters. Fast forward years passed and now I miss that feeling, but I can't sit down and write anything now.

I don't know why but I just can't. I really want to start again because it brings me so much joy, but everytime I try to start, I can't write more than two sentences that I finally delete.

Do you have some advice for this? How do you approach your writing or what do you do? I know it's a strange and very abstract question, but thank you for at least read this!! 💙

Omg yes I do still remember you of course!!!

Writer's block is very painful and frustrating for sure. I do a few things to try my best to combat it.

My free time is spent thinking about prompts or scenarios. I'm such a dissociating person that on drives or showers or boring meetings I'll just start thinking about One Piece or other fandoms. I allow my brain to drift, and most of the time I have ideas about things before I even sit down and write.

I skip the hard stuff. When I have two plot points, but I don't know how to get between A and B, I will literally put [SOMETHING HERE] and then come back to it. Can't find a specific word? [WORD LIKE _____]. Basically anything that keeps me from continuing my flow of consciousness, I put a placeholder to come back to. When I do my first level of edits, I usually do a quick search for the "[" button so I can see what needs to fill in. It's easier to write the hard parts when you have a more of a fleshed out story (and sometimes I've connected the dots by the time I come back to it)

When I write, I start with writing whatever I actually want to write. Stories don't usually need a lead in or intro (and if they do, I write it later). If there's dialogue I think of, I write it as soon as I think of it and just keep it at the bottom of the page to use later.

Sometimes I go back and watch my favorite episodes (or the new ones) to get inspiration. For One Piece, its almost always Alabasta or Skypiea (my comfort arcs), but sometimes I watch the Wano episodes too when I feel up to it. It helps me recenter my mindset and bring myself back to those characters.

I really hope that helps! And I really hope you start writing! Even if it's just a few minutes each day, I hope it slowly comes back to you and you start to love it and find joy in it again :)

#coza asks #advice

10 notes · View notes

gugf · 1 year

Text

Man, i really don't know about theories from now on.

The new series for me is a sort of enigma with "What was the point? What was the message?" questions. Although it seems like this, I really doubt that there is no point at all. Even from the early interviews it's been said "We also get a lot of people just asking ‘why have you made this? and what is this for?’ which is probably the worst response for us."

But, reading more and more interviews, I kinda get a feeling, that what's going on it's so weird and inconcrete, that even creators themselves can't describe this. That's why their descriptions feel so vague.

And, as a person who enjoys making abstract art herself, for me at least, I can relate to that. Usually I just come up with theme or idea, some cool looking things and metaphors, and organize it into something that feels coherent. Than, just interpret it how you feel.

Yeah, the reason is very subjective. But with all interviews, that is why I personally don't buy theories that suggest that dhmis has some complex lore, and all of this can be explained logically via simulation or something similar. No offence for those who enjoy that reading, btw. The whole point with dhmis is that nobody is really sure what is going on, and you can fill the gaps by your own liking, making it into something special specifically for you, and it will not be wrong.

But if we're going for an intent... Than we need to find a theme of the series. All art is created with some message. Even if it's something as simple as "look how pretty this tree looks".

That's why i find a simulation theory about web series sounding really boring (no pun intended). Especially if it adds a villain with a cartoony motivation such as "more money" or "i hate my son so fucking much, but i still make sure that he wouldn't be socially isolated". It makes the conflict just really simple, and requires a story being taken by a face value. And the message, i guess, don't let some weird puppet produce your show? Cause it's not like creators going for "situation sucks but we still have each other", looking at how cynical the show is, and how creators describe the characters themselves. They are straight up calling them: "pathetic", "moron", "asshole" c'mon. And also there isn't such scene in the series where they try to comfort or even understand each other to be that kind of message. It's much likely to be intended as a metaphor for something far more simple. Something that's also relatable for the creators themselves.

If I understood it correctly, of course. I know, there must be the reason that theory is so beloved, but I, for the love of god, can't get it. (And it's kinda about the whole categorie that goes under the description of: characters are in distressing situation by the direct fault of roy and also leslie all along).

And I also personally don't want to believe in "characters have a souls of a real dead people from mullhoven in them" I know, it has some basis, but it's basically a plot of most analog horror, or games with creepy hidden lore out there. It's done to death, and I'm not really sure if it adds anything to the story, besides Yellow being Leslie's dead son. But still, eh? Why does it's "you're not my real son", then? (Maybe Yellow is just based on him? Or, if Leslie didn't create the characters, just one that looks the most alike, who knows. That was really what my "you will never be a real boy" drawing was all about)

But, the things I set with, honestly, not better. Now, besides the "Desperately trying to tie two series together", after reading the interviews, I can only say they that here might be something TAWOG-esque going on, like, with the TV in the teaser playing the show, and the sitcom logic being incorporated into the story.

It's kinda because the show doesn't even feel like a finished story. And the words "I don't think this is the end" only support this. Even if it's kind of jarring that after 6 years we got only a part of the story, that we are not even sure when or will it ever be finished, I'm really glad, that at least now theories have more variety to them, and people willing to let go of the original series as its own independent story if it's true or not. Now, it's almost feels like real science.

I think, only time will tell which was the closest one. But, It doesn't mean that I won't continue to study this thing from all the different angles. I know, they want to say something to us. And I really want to know what it might be. Besides, it turns out as something boring (what is unlikely), I always can create an interpretation myself.

This was mainly discussion about the show, not an attack on theories or headcanons. Remember this, ok? I don't want this post to discourage anyone to be wild and creative. I mainly wrote it as a frustration about how seeing the show from a perspective of only one theory makes discussion about what show might mean really stifle.

#dhmis #don't hug me i'm scared #dhmis tv series #dhmis tv show #dhmis analysis #dhmis theory

17 notes · View notes

marley-manson · 1 year

Note

💌 💞 💫 for the fic ask!

Thank you <333

💞what’s the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

Definitely characters. I write because I want to explore things about my faves and spend some time in their heads. Plotting feels like a necessary evil lol, because I'm not into writing abstract character studies, I want the characters to do stuff. But god it's easily the worst part for me. Figurative language is up there too though, it's fun to come up with a good metaphorical description. I also want to add theme because I can't write without it, if I have no thematic statement I have no idea what I'm writing towards.

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

Your comments are definitely some of my favourites frankly lmao 💖 But generally I love to hear what people get out of my stories, intellectually and/or emotionally. Like what they enjoyed about it, how it made them feel, what choices made them go 'yesss,' etc.

And I know these are writing asks but I also want to add for vids specifically: I loooove when people point out specific editing choices/techniques they liked. Like I had one youtube comment on a Berserk vid point out a series of blood drops I timed to a drum rhythm by cutting out a few frames here and there and I was just like 🥺thank you so much for noticing🥺

Of course I love and greatly appreciate any and all positive feedback always, but yeah if I'm getting specific then these types of comments make me really flail.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

lol this one was hard to answer bc I'm kind of in a slump right now in terms of my wips. But I'm at 50 pages (!!!!) and getting close to the end of Army Style which is def exciting, and I thiiink I've come up with the climax and essential thematic point of the story, if I can pull it off. Basically focusing on Potter as the good cop to the rest of the army's bad cop, and how that's what clinches Hawkeye's negative character shift, even moreso than the threats.

Here have an excerpt:

Sherm watched him go, hoping this wasn't gonna be the last he'd see of the life of the not-quite party that was the four oh double seven.

"Well," he said, "you have your assignments. It's time for me to make some phone calls." He slapped his knees perfunctorily and stood up. The other two followed suit and they went their separate ways.

He started with Sidney. A signed statement from him could take a day or two to reach Seoul, so the sooner he sent it the better - would've been best three days earlier when he’d asked if it might be necessary, but he supposed he couldn't blame Hawkeye for not wanting to admit that his name could be out there, considering what he was going through now. As much as he considered Hawkeye a friend, he was still his commander first and foremost, and that was the way it ought to be.

Once Radar got through he picked up the phone at his desk.

“Always a pleasure, Sherm,” said the voice on the other end, “assuming you’re calling to schedule the next poker night.”

“‘Fraid not, Sidney. I need your professional advice. Our favorite captain’s gotten himself into trouble.”

“When’s it due?”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. Lord save him from comedians. “Very funny,” he said, in a tone that he hoped conveyed exactly how much he was laughing.

“All right, what’s the trouble?” Sidney conceded.

“Hawkeye’s just been hauled off to Seoul H.Q. to be investigated for degeneracy.”

“Ah,” came Sidney’s less-than-fruitful response.

He filled him in on the details. “So what do you think? I was hoping you’d be willing to sign a statement on his behalf, but is there anything you can do besides?”

“Oh sure, I’ll write a letter.” The words came slow and steady, like Sidney was considering everything he said carefully. “I know a few of my colleagues down there so I can make a call too. Not sure how much good it’ll do if someone named him.”

“Near as I can tell it was a name once-removed, if that’s any help. A… friend of a friend of Hawkeye’s put his name on a list. Hawk’s swearing up and down that the kid was just handing over any name he’d ever heard the guy mention.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I don’t think that matters, now, does it?”

“If you say it doesn’t, then it doesn’t.” A sigh crackled across the line. “You know, if this was the old days, I’d just fly down there myself and do the paperwork to clear him. Now that could cost me my job.”

Sherm scowled into the middle distance. Maybe he shouldn’t blame Hawkeye; maybe his optimism had just been a decade out of date. He’d known the higher ups were stepping up the blues the last few years, but that was usually how it went in peacetime. He’d figured they’d cut it out while the war was on. But if even Sidney thought he might lose Hawkeye for good… “Is it really that bad?” he asked.

“It’s not good. But in Hawkeye’s case it’s hard to say. If he was a private it’d be over already, but a surgeon… especially one with his record - he’s got a good chance. It really just depends on who’s making the decision. But I’ll make a call or two and see what I can do to help from here. And I’ll send that statement tonight.”

“Thanks, Sid. I owe you one.”

“I’ll collect it in chips next time I come by the Swamp.”

Sidney hung up, and Sherm kept the receiver up to his ear. Sure enough, there was still faint breathing on the other end. “Radar, get me General Imbrie,” he said, relishing the surprised yelp. It was time to start making a fuss until he got his chief surgeon back.

#ask meme #text post #mash

5 notes · View notes

clever-and-unique-name · 2 years

Text

I'm really hung up on thinking about our gender since yesterday.

When I break it down into dissociated parts, it's much easier to put words to things. Their feelings on gender feel very encapsulated, contained to them.

But when I try to describe us collectively, it all gets so muddled. "Genderqueer" or "Genderfluid" feel most accurate, because they account for how our gender oscillates between parts. But that's all an intensely internal experience--even though we mostly prefer they/them pronouns, we don't make a point of telling people to use them for us irl. We present as cis because it feels like too much energy otherwise.

It doesn't help that when I think of our gender, it's all in very abstract ideas. I can't point to a picture of someone and say "That's my gender" because I don't feel connected to gender that way.

My gender feels like the calm, mirrored surface of a lake, under which is a murky, churning depth of underwater caverns filled with different secrets. It's staring at a closet of clothes suiting a dozen different aesthetics and wishing I could just not have a body to dress. It's shrugging and picking something because "sure, why not." It's choosing concealment for convenience and safety, without knowing what's underneath the mask at all.

I feel like my gender is "What am I to you? Okay, let's go with that." Because I'm tired. I don't feel the need to be perceived a certain way; most often, I'd rather just not be perceived at all.

#personal #gender stuff

13 notes · View notes

rain-lavender-rain · 1 year

Text

Rose Colored Love- Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Fond Memories and Good Friends

Warnings: descriptions of violence, cussing, female main character.

Word Count- ~1.2K

Summary: Sam asks Rose for help. Angst and some sad moments incoming. Will she say yes or no? Guess we gotta find out!

Rose was unsure of what to say. Different responses floated around in her mind, floating until she decided to grab one.

"Help with what? "Is he serious? He can't be serious. Gosh, I missed him.... Maybe he just needs advice? No, if it was that, he would have called...."

All those thoughts swirled around, and Sam could see her carefully processing what to say.

"Help with what? She asked, trying to shield the tension she was already feeling in the air.

Her voice came out smaller than she wanted, and Sam picked up on it quickly. He knew Rose well enough, even after all these years, (plus the few years they spent apart) to pick up on what the girl was feeling without verbal confirmation. After they both returned from tour, she became a lot harder to read, but sometimes the pages of Rose would flutter open enough with the wind, that Sam could catch a few glimpses.

Sam's eyes softened, and he dropped the question for a moment.

"Remember that one time we went up to Minnesota?" He asked with a grin.

Rose hadn't said anything, knowing that when he said the word "we", he was referring to three of them, instead of two.

"You took us to that beach you loved as a kid. That one with Tombolo Rock, and we all sat there like absolute fools. We were sitting on those huge rocks when all of a sudden, the water came up and hit us all...point blank until we were a soaking wet mess." He saw her eyes sparkle, reminded of the good memories filled with laughter.

Rose nodded, fondly recalling the memory, even with the little bit of sadness that was sprinkled around it.

"Yeah." she said, pausing before starting again.

"And then the winds came in and...he looked miserable, kept sayin' that it was my fault. Thought he was mad, and he angrily chucked that blanket from the car at me and refused to take it once I offered it to him since he was complaining so much...but I didn't want it either."

Sam smiled, reminiscing on how both of his partners, and best friends bantered together. They were always there for each other, showing the most unexpected displays of love and trust towards one another, but found time to argue about the tiniest things. Sam always compared Riley and Rose's relationship to an abstract painting in his mind. Beautiful, with colors that clashed, but somehow still complimented, and blended together.

"That's because you and him were both stubborn as hell."

Rose rolled her eyes at that.

"Well, at least it added some sort of excitement to the day." Rose shrugged, letting a small smile through the curtain.

"Maybe in your world. In mine, it was extremely annoying. You two never knew how to shut up."

Rose smirked at that, before the tension and silence in the room returned. She knew the question had to be addressed, so she asked again.

"Sam, why are you really here? And what could you possibly need my help with?"

Rose finished the last of the coffee, waiting for his answer.

He sighed, realizing that maybe it wasn't right- what he was asking for. That maybe he should just go home, just handle it with Bucky instead.

"I wouldn't have come to you unless I needed to." He stated simply, letting it sink in before telling her.

She knew he was right. Regardless of how stubborn her and Riley were, Sam was stubborn in his own way. Never wanting to put others in harms way, even when he needed help and couldn't do it alone. She put away the coffee cup in the sink, standing next to him now, carefully watching him as he stared out the window. The sun was starting to come up, its golden glow only obscured by the tree branches outside.

"I'm working on something and I need your expertise. And before you say anything, just listen, please... I know you said that even though you were only on the fringes of my job- working with Steve, Bucky, and I when we were on the run, that after all that- you were done. But, it will be quick. I promise. I just need you to do that medical shit. Not to mention, it would be good to have my partner back, even just for a little while."

A pause, a beat, a moment of silence passed as Rose tilted her head, slightly confused, and not entirely convinced.

"There's this thing going on. We took care of the Flag Smashers, but there's something else. There's another chemical being tested. We don't know what group is manufacturing it, or what exactly the chemical substance is. We can't release it to the public right now, and we definitely can't trust the government after the Walker mess. I want this under wraps. I trust you, but I understand if you say no."

Sam finished with tug of anxiety, and worry, not knowing how she would respond. If she would be mad, upset, angry, indifferent, agreeable.

Her brow raised, as if to ask if he was finished. When it appeared he had, she finally spoke, while carefully keeping her emotions in check. Part of her was upset for sure, but that was her mind talking, not the heart. Leaning against the counter with arms folded across her chest, Rose looked at him, with a shake of the head.

"So, I'll ask again. Why me? You could have someone else do it. Banner?"

Sam quickly cut in. "Banner isn't an option."

Rose cut right back. "Sam, what is it that you aren't you telling me?"

He was avoiding her gaze, trying to keep his voice level, calm, knowing that it was a very real possibility, that if he revealed what he was about to say, the fallout and consequences could be something their relationship would never bounce back from.

He finally turned towards her, and shook his head, the tension so thick that it was suffocating.

"Rose. It's Frank."

Her eyes started to burn. A cinderblock felt like it was weighing down the heart inside her chest.

"What do you mean?" She asked, anger about to rush in and bury her in flames of aggression and pain.

"Rose- I know- I know you said he was gone- but his name was on those records- on those shipment forms... and we need to figure out why."

She shook her head in disbelief, unsure of what was going on, of what was even being suggested.

"You're the only one left for it to trace back to, and I know you didn't do it. So, please help me- help us figure it out."

Some of the flames had died down, most likely because of the sincerity and care Sam held in his voice. She still had some of the old fire burning inside. Determination, perseverance, and maybe even a little bit of anger were imbued in her voice,

"When do we start?"

Chapter 3

Tags of course, for the one and only @playboystark

#sam wilson #sam wilson x oc #marvel #marvel series #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

2 notes · View notes

azertycake · 2 months

Text

Gulls

ao3 link

content warning for death and climate change

~1500 words

The seagulls outlived us all. If it's any consolation, they won't outlive us for long.

Look at them. I know it's hard to see them carving arcs into the yellow sky when you're six feet under, but if you squint and tilt your head you'll catch a glimpse through the dirt and the litter. Them, picking at crisp packets. Them, challenging feral cats over a bottle cap that they both thought was food. Them, those same buggers who stole your chips on the pier.

You know what, even if you can't see it from the grave, you can make a damn good guess as to what The End looks like. Ever seen a tip? That but bigger. Ever seen a flock of flying rats? That but louder. Ever smelled rot? That but it's suffocating. You were probably alive not long before The End happened, so just know you got close to outliving the damn gulls.

You didn't though. Oh well.

It's kind of nice, really. The species thinks it's thriving, and that's what counts really. Filling their stomachs with shit that'll just sit there forever until it cuts them open from gullet to intestines, the gentle scrape of hard plastic against weak stomach lining. And then they'd shovel more shit into their beaks because that's what they thought they had to do to be happy. More food, more things, fuller stomach, better life. Round and round like a merry-go-round, until death do us part, life goes on and we eat and then we can die happy.

I'm not sure if you were one of the bad ones. I'm not sure if I care. For every man in a suit making his workers piss in drinks bottles there was the good samaritan putting their litter in the bin and rejecting plastic straws at restaurants and only buying what they needed. Us lot, the humans, we had our tree huggers and activists and political campaigns. We had our fun, so why don't we share it with the flying rats?

Don't think of it as The End. Think of it as passing on the torch. What do I know, though? That could just make it worse.

I kind of miss it. The consumption, the having, the want. Going from everything to nothing is an astounding change of pace, as you probably know. I've got no puppet strings on me now, but I also have no skin and bones and corporeal form to cling to, so I can't exactly do much with this freedom except wallow in the dirt and think about what I'd say to you, you being an ambiguous abstract entity I can rant at. Or project onto. What's the difference?

I'm not normally this pessimistic. I wasn't, back then. I had a job and kids and a wife for God's sake, I didn't have time to sit around yelling about birds. All I have now is time, and it's hard to keep life interesting when plastic rots so slow. Can't watch life overtake what we created because I'm not patient enough to watch plastic corrode for however-many-thousands-of-years.

I'd like to think that the men in suits and ties aren't living it up in their bunker while we writhe in the dirt. I really wish I could think that. They probably have television, still, and telephones and computers and books and food and life. They probably breathe the smog through gas masks and they were happy to let us walk around and choke.

Maybe I was the idiot. Maybe I should have bought a metal water bottle and done litterpicking twice a year. You know what, maybe the apocalypse could have been averted if I and only I turned around and didn't buy that one bag of crisps that one time. Every little action right? Nothing the men in suits and ties could have done about it, surely. No, with their political power and corporate strength and stranglehold over what society can and cannot consume, how could they have possibly done anything to help?

I'm a little angry at the moment. The seagull squawks get to you after a while.

No clue how to calm down from this. It's done and dusted now, I suppose. We're all gone, everyone save for the seagulls that strut around in suits and ties.

I bet you're too young to remember when human beings were mucking about in the primordial soup that was Earth's oceans. So am I, but I like to think that the ancient history I learned way back in high school has rubbed off on me. Bumbling about as cells, drinking our sunlight without emotion or care. We stumbled out of the water on clumsy legs made of newfound muscle. We walked, grabbed, walked and grabbed at the same time, made noises that were vaguely akin to phrases like "I love you", "I want this", "I miss you", and et cetera. Back when I was referred to as a cluster of syllables and you a concise grunt. We made families, then big groups of families, then villages, then homes.

We looked to the future and we created. Clothes, architecture, language, we moulded the clay of being between our fingers and made things. Beautiful, miraculous things. We wrote books, painted walls, screamed about love into microphones that screamed back at us. We shot for the stars, hit space square on, and went onward. Oh, how far we could have gone. All the while the oil was eating our oceans, and the ink on our pages quickly devolved into the denial and nonsense. Paintings became empty. The stars felt too hollow. The ocean fell beneath our feet, and we were scared of the sheer volume of plastic down there. Perhaps once children told scary stories of sharks and sirens. Tales such as those tangled and wiled into something new, about temptresses caught in netting and sharks beached on the shore.

My kids came home one day and told me those stories. We then ate our packaged meals imported from third world countries and pretended that nothing was wrong. Only the fish were in trouble, and lord knows we stopped owing our existence to them a long time ago. We weren't there anymore, so we'd be okay. We'd be fine.

You'll be fine, they said.

I miss when bread was given and love was shared. I miss the sea and the seagulls never had to. No insurance, tax, bills, interest, what have you. Back when villages were just a collection of families and back when we were just having fun in our oceans. People joke about running into the woods and never coming back a whole lot, but my biggest regret was never actually doing it. I'd kill to bake bread by hand. But the office job called, and my kids' school needed another member of the PTA, and my wife couldn't lose her husband.

And I stayed. And, oh, how I wish I hadn't.

The gulls are learning something similar. They went from fishing to preying on our chips on the pier, then they started fighting feral cats for food, and soon they'll be existing just as we did, suits and ties and all. That could be a delusion, but it'd be funny though. Like us demons looking at angels about to fall. Gulls have always been destined to go to hell. The lot of them, I'd say, belong in the ninth circle.

I wanted to be cremated before this whole climate fiasco, which is kind of ironic since I'm ragging on the folks who caused climate change. But then I turned around one day and I put my foot down, firmly told myself no, and insisted on a burial in my will and to every person in my life. Can't have fire, that's not environmentally friendly. I need to go to into the earth to save the trees and breed new life because that's my responsibility as a guy working a nine to five at a corner shop, I suppose.

I couldn't even die the way that I wanted to because I was so scared that I would ruin my children's future. It didn't matter. Not to them. It never mattered to them.

I did my bit, I suppose. I lived a little, as all people should, and then I died, as all people must. It would have been nicer to have a heart attack than to burn to death in a forest fire, and it would have been nice for my children to have a good future, but it was never our fault.

We tried. We tried so damn hard. I'm sorry that it's hard to make a dent in the world we lived in, but we tried.

I hope your coffin is comfy, at least, and I hope your life was full of wonder while you had the chance to experience it.

We were the last humans left, and now the gulls will take our place. We should change the subject now.

If only.

#azerty writes #A POCKET FULL OF PROSES #writing #writeblr #original writing #original fiction #original character #climate crisis #climate change

0 notes