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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine:

Warnings: Smut, fluff, quarantine bae

This is a short imagine, Enjoy!

“Goodmorning!!”

Y/N walks into the Physical Therapy office with a glow that could put the sun to shame and a bright white smile that lit up her face like Christmas lights. She sanitized her hands at the front desk before walking further into the office, saying Goodmorning to Miss Kim who usually doesn’t speak but Y/N’s chipper attitude must have rubbed off on her. Y/N looks up and notices a sign posted on the desk window saying:

Please Wash Your Hands Before Checking In For Your Appointment!

“Let’s see if our patients actually abide by that today,” Y/N was thankful that the place was empty for now. All of the exam room curtains were drawn and the exercise equipment sat neatly in a corner. Y/N made it to the check in desk for appointments, walking around and dropping her purse on the empty chair beside her. Humming, Y/N takes off her windbreaker jacket, fluffing out her braid-out. She has on a scrub set with flowers on the top in pretty spring colors.

Y/N jumps straight into work, placing the clipboard for signing in at the top of the desk. There were medical files for the patients that were scheduled to come in today neatly piled in front of her. They were expecting at least 20 people. Some came for therapy because of a motor vehicle accident, others because of work related injuries. Sanitizing again, Y/N takes her seat, sighing because her legs felt like jello and her ankles reminded her of Bambi taking his first steps.

The reason for her happiness and muscle spasms is because of her man; Erik. Being home for the past two weeks meant two times the dick she was already receiving. She woke up with an attitude because he left the toilet seat up and basically used up all of her exfoliating scrub that she used for her pum-pum. In the middle of his snoring, Y/N barged back into the room, water dripping from her brown skin with her shower cap on her head. She picked up her pillow and started beating Erik out of his sleep....

Hour and a half ago:

“Get yo’ ass up!” Y/N yelled like a mad women while beating Erik with her pillow, “GET UP!”

Erik simply rolled over on his belly. All she could see now was his durag and muscular back.

“You think I’m playing,” Y/N yanked the covers from his body exposing his Under Armour briefs in navy blue. Y/N starts whipping Erik’s ass with her tiny hand. Erik’s hips start swiveling from side to side. He grunts angrily, his hand coming up and behind him to roughly smack her hand away.

“Erik GET UP! Why did you use up half of my exfoliating scrub?! I just bought this stuff and it ain’t cheap!”

“Girl...you waking me up out of my sleep because of some scrub?” Erik flips his body over to lay on his back. Rubbing his eyes, Erik mumbles to himself before completely sitting up. Bags under his eyes and a scowl on his face, Erik shakes his head at her, using all of his restraint to not grab Y/N up off her feet.

“That scrub, I spent my money on. I have to go to work I’m already frustrated that they have these offices open with this virus going around and here you go pissing me off further,” Y/N throws her hands up, ready to walk away but then she remembered the toilet seat, “And another thing, what’s your problem with closing the toilet? I don’t want my ass falling in the toilet, Erik.”

“Did you close it?” He asks with a glint in his eyes and a groggy voice.

“Yes, I did, what’s your point?”

“Then it shouldn’t be a big deal. You went pee-pee, get over it,” Erik fell back in bed, bringing the covers to his chin, “All loud for nothing I’m TIRED. Take that noise somewhere else.”

“Fucking asshole,” Y/N lifts her leg to the bed, kicking Erik hard. Erik sat up again, his pectorals jumping and his biceps flexed and ready to attack. Y/N stood her ground, unbothered with Erik’s wrathful expression.

“Kick me again. Gon’ head...”

“Erik, I don’t have time for this-“

“Oh, no, you do. The time you spent in here yelling at me your shower could have been finished. Just hurry up and get the fuck outta here so I can sleep.”

“Just know, I’m not making that baked Mac and cheese for you tonight!”

“You’re so simple acting! Damn,” Erik covers his head with a pillow. Things were silent for only two seconds before Erik removes the pillow from his face, sitting up in bed again. Fuming, Erik kicks the covers from his body like a child having a temper tantrum, getting out of the bed and heading toward the bathroom.

“See, look what you did, girl! Now I gotta piss!” Hot-tempered, Erik lifts the toilet seat Damn near breaking it, “I should take a shit too have this whole bathroom lit up while you’re in there!”

“Erik, DONT play with me. I don’t need to be smelling your toxic fumes,” Y/N was in the middle of cleaning her pussy, “Wait a minute...”

Y/N pulls the shower curtain back, peeking her head out with a disgusted look on her face. Erik simply laughs, a good hearty laugh with his hand clutching his chest.

“Did you just fart?” Y/N says while cover her nose.

“Duh, I ain’t shit on myself,” Erik flushes the toilet, going to the sink to wash his hands and brush his teeth, “finish washing up, funky butt.”

“I’m not the one with the funky ass, smelling like you ate a whole can of beans-“

“Aight, then scoot over I’m coming in-“

“NO!” Y/N shouts, “No, I don’t want you in here I’m still pissed with you.”

“Girl, get over that shit,” Erik takes off his briefs, “I’m getting in there fuck you talking bout.”

“UGHHH,” Y/N rinses her body off, trying to ignore Erik’s rock hard body pressed against hers.

Of course, Erik couldn’t help himself when his hand came down to smack Y/N’s ass, “Get loud on me again and ima fuck you up.”

“Erik move back and take a shower,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “When you going back to work?”

Erik howled, his laugh so loud in Y/N’s war she clinched.

“I’m getting on your nerves that much, Damn...you wasn’t saying all of that when I fucked you all those times.”

“I know, I’m still questioning my morals-“

“Then as soon as I do go back to work you’ll start acting up again apologizing in my ear about why you’re acting the way you are,” Erik leans down to speak into Y/N’s ear, “I’m sorry baby, I just miss the dick,” He says trying to mock her voice.

Y/N stood quiet, no response because she knew he was right. She wanted to be mad at him so much but that’s her baby. Erik smiles evilly at her reaching down to grab her chin, turning her head in an uncomfortable position since her back was turned to him.

“You dont acting up?”

“But I was never-“

“You done?” Erik repeats himself.

“.....yeah.”

“Pass me my soap...get in that bedroom and arch your back I want some pussy.”

“Babe,” Y/N says with a pout.

“Take your lil ass in there!”

“Okay but why are you yelling?” Y/N was ready to give him more attitude but she changed her mind at high-speed when she saw the fiery look in his eyes. Y/N left the shower, not even bothering to dry off. She arched her body on the edge of the bed, little booty tooted in the air, cool air on her pussy.

“This nigga is about to destroy my whole body,” Y/N says to herself, waiting patiently with her chin resting on her folded arms, eyes studying the pattern of the sheets on their bed. Y/N couldn’t complain, she finally got Erik to be consistent after dealing with his “I don’t do relationships” mess. Consistency will get Y/N to give her pussy up whenever he said so. Consistency will get his dick sucked like it was dipped in chocolate.

Just when Y/N was daydreaming, the feeling of her pussy being licked from the back down knocked her senseless. Erik was enjoying his meal while jerking his dick. His noxious tongue thrashing almost stroked Y/N unconscious. He was eating her like he hadn’t eaten all quarantine. His belly would be gratefully filled with her syrupy essence.

Erik squeezes Y/N’s smaller yet round booty, before spitting on her pussy from the back, leaning back to admire his canvas, “I plan on smashing these lil cakes to smitherines, girl,” Erik went back to licking her up.

“Aight, bae, you gotta stop,” Y/N couldn’t handle his tongue so early in the morning. Her thighs started to close but Erik held them open while using the strength of his neck to eat her pussy.

Y/N’s hand found the top of Erik’s head. She mushes him away, her body slacken. Erik hit her ass for moving his head away, “Ima give you a nasty ass slow kiss when I’m finished so you can taste how good this pussy taste...don’t mush me again, Y/N.”

“Fuck!” Y/N didn’t listen, her body twisting and her hand swiping the air. Erik was purposefully scooting his head away while torturing her clit with his sucking.

“Okay, ZADDY SHIT!” Y/N tried to stay still but the way he was slurping all over her pussy made that unfeasible, “SHIT! I wanna tap out...”

“Uh-uh,” Erik wasn’t letting go.

“Okay...okay...fuckkkkkkkk...let go of my clit MOTHERFUCKER!!!!! GODDD!!!!”

Y/N started shaking, crying, squealing. Erik’s hands wrapped around her thighs, keeping her in place so he could continue sucking the life out of her clit. When she was finished feeding Erik her cum, Erik’s wet face reappears.

“Got you out of your lil mood, didn’t I?” Erik and his hard ten inches were ready to impale Y/N’s dripping cunt, “Come on girl, toot that ass up I’m tryna get in there.”

“Daddy just shut up and fuck me now because I know I’m not gonna be able to walk after this-“

“Then toot that motherfucking ass UP. You know the drill, get in position.”

Y/N arched her back more, breathing slow as she waited with anticipation. Erik didn’t warn her when he was about to stuff his dick inside of her pussy when he was trying to punish her. Squeezing her hands into fists, Y/N waited as her pussy convulsed.

“Babe-“

Erik purposely waited for her to speak so that he could put all of him inside of her. Y/N’s entire body crawled away from him, his dick leaving her pussy. Erik grabbed her ankles, pulling her back with force. Y/N was slapping Erik’s hands away but he was stronger. Each time she tried to crawl away Erik would drag her back like she was a damn doll.

“Where you going? Don’t run,” Erik held Y/N’s hips in place his dick back inside of her pussy like it never left. Maybe it was because it was early in the morning but she couldn’t take his back shots. His dick was constantly stroking her G spot and he was so deep that Y/N could feel it in her chest. Y/N was talking mad shit so now Erik had to show out in her pussy. Erik was beating up Y/N’s pussy. Long, hard, and deep strokes. Erik leans forward, one of his hands on her head while his hips stroked her pussy at a tempo Y/N knew was meant for her to be made an example of.

“Okay,” Y/N felt herself read to cum already. Erik’s hand on her head to hold her in place was so deathly Y/N kept her mouth shut the rest of the time. Her lips trembled and her eyes leaves hot tears from the way he bruised her G spot.

“Stay crying for big dick but wanna run from it,” Erik says calling her out, “You don’t get to run this is what you ask for.”

Y/N wanted to say she didn’t ask for this but her body was saying other wise. The intensity of the sensation was so overwhelming she didn’t care that he ordered her to arch her back. Now, her pussy was creaming. Erik was juicing her peach. She felt the wettest out of all the times they had sex. Maybe it was because he was the angriest he’s ever been. Maybe Y/N should act like a brat or a bitch more for him to fuck her like this.

“Lil booty freak taking Daddy beating this nut deep inside your pussy from the back...laying there letting Daddy take this pussy...Lil ass like it when Daddy bring this pussy back hard on this dick, huh?”

“Oh my God-“

“Just keep still while I drill this nut deep...fuckkkkkk...I can see now yo’ ass Gon’ end up with a baby growing in you with all this fucking. Can’t even count how many times my nut been up in this tight ass pussy.”

“Daddy, oh my God-“

“I don’t care either I’m nutting all in this pussy-“

“Unh, shittttt...fuck me!”

“I got you-“

“Take this sweet little pussy-“

“I’m taking my sweet little pussy”

Y/N screamed.

“Got that pussy hitting right with that ass matching these strokes...ahhhh fuck, hold still I’m about to nut....

“Wassup itty-bitty!”

Y/N sat up nice and tall after being brought out of her daydream. Clarence, one of the other Physical Therapists was nibbling on an orange while standing next to her. He peeked over her shoulder, seeing if she was occupied with something since he called her like five times.

“You Aight over here?”

“...yeah,” Y/N looked over the desk to find two patients waiting to be seen, “Did they just come in?”

“Yeah, a little after I did.”

Y/N noticed both patients. One was a middle aged women who was involved in a pedestrian accident with a car. She was jogging when a car backed up and hit her. The other patient was a young women around early 20’s who had severe back pains from a bus accident.

“I like your scrubs,” Clarence says while studying the floral patterns.

“Thanks,” Y/N gives Clarence a smile. Clarence smiles back, sure to show off his dimples just like her man except Clarence doesn’t have deep dimples. He’s 6’0, and from Ghana. All of the ladies loved Clarence. Y/N knew that he was feeling her even when she told him on multiple occasions that she has a man. His persistence wouldn’t let up.

———-

Things were steady and getting the patients in and out was a breeze. Y/N’s belly was currently growling and she instantly wished she’d at least brought in a snack to hold her over. Y/N planned on buying lunch from a carry out within the shopping center of the office. It was the perfect time to go grab something to eat before patients start piling up again. Clarence is currently wiping down a room that was recently used.

“Still with that boyfriend, Y/N?” He asks casually while spraying down an exam table. He asked her like he wanted to know what the weather was like. Y/N dreaded the day he would ask her that again.

“Yes, Clarence,” Y/N chuckles, “And I don’t plan on leaving him.”

“Why hasn’t he put a ring on your finger yet? It’s hard to find good girls like you. What is waiting on?”

“There is no rush,” Y/N grabs a pen to finish writing information into a patients report. Just before she could close her file, Y/N’s phone vibrated. Glancing at it, Y/N could see that Erik was currently sending her texts.

I’m bored

Well do something productive like reading a book instead of playing video games.

Just when Y/N flips her phone over so she could go back to work, another text comes through, most likely from Erik again.

I’m about to call you.

Before Y/N could tell him anything otherwise Erik was FaceTiming her. Y/N rolls her brown eyes before answering the FaceTime. Clarence was talking to another coworker of there’s so Y/N didn’t need to worry about anyone eavesdropping. Y/N answers the FaceTime, her heart fluttering because of the dick down Erik gave her before work. Staring at the screen, Erik was still in his sleep wear with a durag on his head. His controller was in his lap and from the pout on his lips and the puppy dog eyes Y/N could tell that being cooped up in the house and away from Y/N for at least three more hours is killing him.

“Ooooh, I like you’re hair, Miss lady, can I pull it from behind?”

Y/N looked around her to make sure no one heard it, “Yes, You can ZADDY. Just as long as you’re gentle this time around. I like tender love and care too.”

“So you rather go oooh and ahhhh then Unh and Fuck when you’re crying and drooling and begging to cum-“

“Erik, SHHHHHH,” Y/N tried not to laugh, “Babe, it may be dead at this place right now but I am on the clock.”

“My bad, ma-“

“Itty-bitty, lets go get some lunch,” Clarence stood at the desk like a patient waiting to be checked in. She hadn’t heard his footsteps and honestly she wished she did.

“...Who?” Erik says through the FaceTime, his face all scrunched up with confusion.

“Is that the boyfriend?” Clarence brings his face into the camera, “sup’ boyfriend, I’m Clarence.”

Erik was stone faced looking at Terrence. Y/N was holding her breath, unable to look at her phone because she knew her man was pissed off.

“Who is itty-bitty?” Erik finally says. Clarence caught wind of his abrasive tone, backing away from the camera, “Just a nickname, brother, my fault.”

“Only nigga giving my girl a nickname is me.”

Y/N cleared her throat loudly, “Okay, babe! I’ll talk to you when I get home, okay? Love you,” Y/N gave Erik smooches, not sticking around to hear him argue before hanging up.

“Damn, yo’ man is nothing but a hot- head-“

“And you don’t know when to sit back. I was on the phone with my man, if I wanted your attention, I could have gotten it.”

“Chill, itty-bitty,” Clarence was tickled by how bothered Erik was, “Shit, he ain’t playing about you is he?”

Y/N flat out ignores Clarence, standing up from the desk and grabbing her bag. While Clarence laughed and joked about Erik Y/N pumped hand sanitizer into her hand before walking off. In her scrub top pocket her phone was going off the hook. Y/N knew not to ignore his constant texts. Y/N pulled out her phone, her heart in her throat

Do I gotta come up there?

Who the fuck is that nigga?

Don’t let no other nigga put his face in your phone again. That’s disrespectful.

Y/N answer my texts. Do I gotta come up there?

The fuck is itty bitty? I don’t like that shit.

Panicky, Y/N calls Erik before exiting the office.

“Babe?” Y/N says with caution.

“Don’t babe me. Who the fuck is Clarence?”

“My coworker-“

“Where are you?”

Y/N chewed on her bottom lip nervously, “Erik...why?”

“Because I’m coming up there. And what’s up with this itty bitty shit? You let him call you that?”

“I don’t he just does it-“

“You need to correct that nigga, matter of fact-“

Y/N could hear Erik moving around in the background, probably putting on his jordans uncaring of the fact that he was wearing loose fitted basketball shorts with his dick swinging.

“Babe, I know you’re not coming up here to my job,” Y/N says with a shaky voice, “Babe stay home.”

“Nah, I’m coming up there. He gon’ need physical therapy once I’m done breaking his goddamn limbs don’t nobody fuck with mines.”

“Erik, chill-“

“I call you nicknames, Y/N. I can tell that nigga was peeking so he could see what his competition looking like. Then, you’re there with him for 8 hours...all close to you, smelling how sweet you smell, making you smile, listening to your voice...”

“Erik, are you jealous of Clarence?”

“Jealous? Of that nigga? TEH,” Erik could be heard closing a door, “I’m not jealous, I’m territorial. Jealous is when you want something that’s not yours. Territorial is protecting what’s already yours.”

Y/N stood quiet, a smile fighting to form on her lips.

“My babe, is my babe. Therefore, don’t look, touch, wink, wave, stare, flirt, compliment, hold, anything that’s my job.”

“Babe, pleaseeeee don’t come up here because I know how you can get. Don’t be so upset about this fuck Clarence-“

“The reason I get mad is because I know exactly what they’re trying to do, I’m a man, I know. It’s not because I don’t trust you...I’m on my way.”

“Erik-“

“I’ll see you when I get there.”

Click

Y/N was reluctant to go back inside her job now. She only lived ten minutes away if she drove. Erik is a reckless driver who weaves in and out of lanes. He would probably do 70 MPH to get to her job. Y/N decided to wait for him instead of going back inside so she could bribe him with a shrimp cheese steak sub and save Clarence from an ass whipping.

———

Pulling up in an all black Mercedes-AMG in the hood was a risky thing to do but that was the least of Erik’s worries.

“Nah, let me put this heat away,” Erik places his chrome gold pistol in the glove department. He didn’t want to make Clarence shit himself and Erik didn’t use his gun for play. It’s not like he didn’t think about doing it though. Erik is very protective over Y/N. Still pissed off, Erik gets out of his SUV, securing it afterwards and pocketing his keys. The thought of Clarence all close to his girl calling her a nickname had Erik’s blood boiling over.

Sure enough, Erik did leave the house in a pair of black basketball shorts with his dick free. His crisp white T-shirt, gold chains, and black durag has all the hood girls that were leaving the hair store doing a double-take when he walked by. Y/N is still standing outside of her job, a male security for the shopping center talking her head off. When she spotted her boyfriend’s usual bop in her peripheral, Y/N lifted her back from the wall, a big beautiful smile on her face to distract Erik because he couldn’t resist her smile.

“Hey babe,” Y/N called out to him, the security dude looking towards the direction of who Y/N was referring to. Erik and him locked eyes. Erik squinted his with suspicion, ready to call out the security but he got the hint before Erik could even say anything.

“Aight, sweetheart, you be safe out here,” He walks away before Erik even approached. Of course, Erik’s anger piqued when he saw another man talking to Y/N. Finally within her space, Erik gave the security dude one final death look before looking down at his girl.

“Niggas getting real comfortable around you, I can understand, because you’re fine ass fuck but I don’t like this shit. Looks like I gotta beat the shit out of every nigga up here in this goddamn shopping center-“

“Erik...baby...daddy,” Y/N made her voice all sultry and low, blinking her lashes at him. She rubs his chest, talking to her in that low sweet voice that had him hard and ready to fuck in minutes.

“Don’t do that, I’m mad right now...Why are you waiting for me outside? I wanted to make a grand entrance into your job. That nigga wanna put his face in my girl phone let’s see if he try that shit now,” Erik doubles back to open the door to enter the Physical Theray Office but Y/N stops him.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I was just about to head to lunch, want something to eat?”

Erik’s eyes swept over Y/N’s work attire, “Nah, I wanna meet Clarence...let go of me, girl.”

“Baby,” Y/N made her voice soft again, “You’d rather pick a fight with someone I don’t give two fucks about than spend time with me? I can get you a foot long shrimp cheese steak with everything and some fries with hot sauce and ketchup.”

Erik rolls his eyes, bringing his left hand to rub his belly, “I am hungry. Didn’t eat since this morning.”

“Let’s go then-“

“Itty- what’s up?” Clarences exited the office with another coworker, some new young girl who did clerical work. Y/N was sure that Clarence was fucking the girl with the way she was pressed up against his back giving him googly eyes. That itty didn’t fall on deaf ears. Erik was in full on attack mode before Y/N could even stop him.

“Clarence, right?” Erik approaches him, “You got a problem with staying in your lane, bruh. I’m sure my girl told you already that she got a man. Now...I came all the way up here to put my hands on you but I ain’t even about to do that,” Erik turns, grabbing Y/N, “This girl right here, she’s mines. Whatever goes down at work she’ll tell me, and then I’ll pull up and put my hands on you...do you understand what I’m saying Clarence? So this is a warning. Figured I should come up here so you know I’m serious.”

“Man,” Clarence laughs in Erik’s face. Y/N could tell by the way his hands shook that he was scared to death of Erik. Clarence wanted to appear unbothered while the young girl behind him watched, “You wasted your time coming all the way up here. That’s yours, cool, I don’t want no problems.”

“You got a habit of laughing at shit that ain’t funny.”

Y/N knew that Clarence was provoking Erik. People within the shopping center started paying attention to them and now Y/N was afraid that Erik will end up bashing Clarence’s face in.

“Erik, the food, remember?” Y/N wrapped her arm around Erik’s bicep, “Let’s go,” she was up on her tiptoes, placing a soft kiss to Erik’s cheek.

“Remember what I said-“

Clarence cuts Erik off, “No need to repeat yourself over and over-“

“I’ll repeat myself however many time I need to...this lame ass nigga man-“

“Lame?! I’m not the one out here acting a fool over a chick who ain’t even all that-“

Erik’s first cocked back swiftly. Y/N didn’t see it coming. Frozen with fear Y/N covered her mouth in shock. Clarence stumbled and flinched, hands coming up in surrender.

“Look at you, weak as fuck,” Erik’s fist was centimeters away from hitting Clarence. Erik wanted to shake Clarence up. If he wanted to hit him, he could have stomped all over him until he was a bloody pulp but the thought of Y/N’s job being jeopardized stopped him. Clarence peeked at Erik through his fingers, slowly backing away before straightening his body.

“I would have bloodied you up but my girl needs her job. Doesn’t mean if I see you I won’t fuck you up. Don’t you ever disrespect my girl like that. I bet you learned your lesson today, didn’t you?”

Y/N shared a look with the young girl she worked with, noticing how turned off she was when Clarence cowarded away. She wrenched her eyes away, yanking on Erik’s arm to get his attention.

“Babe, I think he heard you, let’s go before some shit pops off.”

“...I’m coming, baby girl,” intensely, Erik gives Clarence one final look before wrapping his arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “Aight Clarence, I hope you and your child have a good rest of your day.”

Erik!”

“Nah, that laughing shit got me hot, then this nigga had the nerve to get big on me...kiss me before I turn around and put his ass in the ground, he don’t know, I’m really a cold-blooded killer.”

Y/N grabs his chin to make him look at her before they walked inside of the carry out. Erik was being stubborn, trying to look everywhere else but at her face. Clarence and the young clerical worker were too busy flirting and avoiding coming anywhere near Y/N and Erik.

“Aye, you missed me?”

Erik kisses his teeth, “what you think?”

“Nah, I want you to tell me,” Y/N wrapped her arms around Erik’s waist.

Erik’s lips twisted up to fight a smile. The outraged look in his eyes seemed to clear and now they were affectionate and soft like Y/N loved.

“...yeah, I missed you.”

“Okay. If you missed me then let’s enjoy lunch and then I can clock out early and we can go home. I don’t want you all worked up over this bullshit. He ain’t got all of this, you do.”

“Damn right I do,” Erik pulled Y/N closer to his body, his hands coming down and around to grab her ass, “all of this is mines-“

“Okay, baby,” Y/N didn’t want to get Erik too worked up since they were in public. Y/N slipped away from his firm grip to open the door. When she walked in, there was a Latino couple with N-95 masks on. Y/N and Erik sanitized there hands with some wipes that she carried with her everywhere before walking towards the front to order food.

“Miss Y/N! How are you? Same thing as usual?”

“Hello Mr. Dean,” Y/N avoided touching any surfaces and Erik lingered behind her, “Yes same thing for me, a shrimp salad sandwich and for him he’ll have a shrimp cheese steak with fries.”

“Foot long or half?”

“Foot long, and can you add extra cheese and lettuce to that please?” Erik says over Y/N’s shoulder.

“Of course, anything else?

“Two kiwi strawberry Mistic’s for me, how about you baby girl?”

“I’ll just have water I’m not in the mood for anything sweet.”

“Yeah, cuz you’re already sweet enough,” Erik bites his lip all tantalizing while his hands caresses her butt.”

“Daddy, chill, wait until we get home-“

“You mean wait until we get in the car?

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger fanfiction

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houseofpaincakes · 2 years

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Is Clayton actually the biggest dude in the game? He’s taller than everyone and super jacked aaaaand is he any ones zaddy? I-I mean anyone’s zaddy? I-I mean! FUCK! Daddy? FUCK! Is this how Lizzie gets asked about her uncle all the time!?!?

yes zaddy clay is biggest boi

I got many chuckles from that!! I think it's super funny and pretty awesome that he's in the game. It's cool that he's as into the fancasting of himself as Marcus as the fans are lol. And yeah I totes think he should play Marcus in the movie.

I played as Lahni. I enjoyed that dlc but I gotta say the constant Mac/Keegan bickering (while Lahni, the woman, of course had to mediate) was so irritating lol

That is an interesting point. Maybe that's why he dyed it black(because yes he dyed it. actual DYI or die goth Gary Carmine) so it wouldn't look like standard cog issue armor. Or he stole that shit.

anyways, to conclude here is my anthony cup full of rocks:

#gears asks

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Case Closed (Part 1/2) - Shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - So… guess who watched Brooklyn 99 and then decided to… make something…

It was me. I did that.

So, to preface - I made this inspired by (as you’ll see when you read) Jake and Amy, but not entirely because I like to make my own characters. Anyway, here’s the one where the gang are detectives.

(Also, this will be submitted in two parts consecutively. It was intended to be a oneshot, but it’s… you know… 18.5k words. I really don’t know either. Happy quarantine and much love to any key workers, affected students or teachers out there <3

It was a perfectly normal day in the precinct and Alaska was forty minutes late to work.

In some of her previous jobs, such as waitressing in that horrible little restaurant or working as a store clerk as a teenager, being forty minutes late would almost certainly mean being fired. However, Alaska revelled in the fact that she would most definitely not be fired for her tardiness, and she grinned proudly as she was met with polite applause.

The gentleman who she led in with cuffs behind her didn’t seem quite so receptive to her hero’s welcome.

“Check out this punk,” Alaska announced to the room. “Busted with two hundred kilos of cocaine in his storage unit and found to be the asshole behind that huge drug ring we’ve been tracking. Proud of yourself, bud?”

As expected, her roughed-up drug dealer said nothing, staring fixedly at his reflection in the handcuffs.

“Good work, Detective Thunder.” Captain Tidicue nodded, impressed. “Take him to the holding cell, meeting in five minutes in the break room. Dismissed.”

It was a perfectly normal day, Alaska’s perp was in the holding cell, and as she stepped into the break room, she bumped shoulders with Jinkx.

“Detective Tsunami.”

“Detective Lightning.”

Jinkx’s smile, as always, seemed to stretch from ear to ear and her lipstick was eerily red. Captain Tidicue had tried a few times to get her to tone down the brightness of her makeup, but eventually she had gotten so fond of Jinkx that she let the matter go entirely. Jinkx seemed to get away with a lot of things in that way, and Alaska loved her for it. As a matter of fact, so did the rest of the squad.

Captain Tidicue closed the door behind them and took her place at the front of the room. There was absolutely nothing extraordinary about a normal morning briefing, even if Alaska had been forty minutes late. That happened sometimes and nobody minded. Everything was normal.

“Good morning everybody. I wanted to let you know that we’ll be welcoming a new detective to our squadron beginning today. She’s experienced and smart and she just moved into the area, I think she’ll be a good addition to our team. I want you all to welcome her.” Tidicue smiled. “I know you will. Let her adapt to our ways, yeah? Make her one of us. Anyway, Detective Needles is on her way now. Dismissed.”

She headed off, leaving the rest of the team to break out into excited discussions, with zero intention of running straight to their desks. Jinkx turned to Alaska with a loud laugh.

“Short, sweet, concise. Never thought I’d see that from a New Yorker.” She quipped.

Alaska chuckled. “Okay, Chicago, calm down.”

“Whatever, Pennsylvania.” Jinkx paused. “Fuck, that isn’t nearly as insulting even though we’re just naming states.”

From across the room, Sergeant Royale beckoned the two of them over, where she was chatting with Detectives Velour, Coulee and Michaels. Inexplicably, Willam, the notoriously work-shy secretary, had also managed to sneak her way in and was perched on the table, right in the midst of the conversation.

“So! New detective, huh? Things are getting exciting round here.” Latrice fought back her laugh as Alaska, rising to the bait despite knowing it had been laid there just to get her, opened her mouth.

“Hey! I literally just busted a massive drug trafficking ring! Is that not exciting?”

The squad laughed, and Alaska acquiesced with a giggle. “But seriously? Detective Needles? Do you think she’s just really good at drug cases or what?”

A new voice appeared suddenly. “Well, yeah. But unfortunately that’s my actual name.”

Alaska whirled around and promptly smashed foreheads with possibly the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. The woman in question reeled backwards slightly and started to rub her head, but offered her hand and a charming smile regardless.

“Detective Needles. Your story is pretty impressive, I’m sorry that my name is stealing your thunder.”

Alaska started to giggle in spite of herself. “Oh my god, this is brilliant. Hi, Detective Needles, I’m Detective Thunder.”

“You’re shitting me. That’s such a fucking cool name.”

“And Needles isn’t?”

“Yours is cooler.”

“No way!” Alaska faced her colleagues again. “Am I really arguing with someone about whose name is cooler and I’m not on my own side? Jinkx, slap me.”

Jinkx raised her hand. “Gladly!”

Before she could deliver what was sure to be an almighty sobering smack, Latrice butted in with a calming hand and her ever-diplomatic ways. “The only way to solve this is by first names. At the same time, go.”

“Alaska.”

“Sharon. Fuck!”

Sharon crossed her arms over her chest as Alaska celebrated her victory. “God, I hate my parents right now. They gave me the most suburban white mom name ever.”

Thus began Alaska’s first triumph over Sharon Needles. Sharon Needles, who was a detective, who would be working a few feet across the room from her now, who was surprisingly tall and with dark curls that really suited her face and eyes that were surprisingly sparkly even though she seemed like she would be quite intimidating in the interrogation room and a leather jacket that made her look so badass and-

Detective Needles made quite a strong impression on that perfectly normal day.

It turned out that Detectives Thunder and Needles worked together like a dream. Alaska called them thick as thieves, once, and Sharon proceeded to double over in incredulous laughter that her partner hadn’t even noticed her own hilariously unintentional joke.

Usually, Captain Tidicue would assign Alaska to work with Jinkx, given the close nature of their friendship, but seeing Sharon’s arrest numbers at a similar rate to Alaska’s, she had decided they could work the case together instead. It was almost like she didn’t know they had an unspoken bet about who was going to get more, and that it was actually a very spoken bet that was being monitored daily by tally marks on the whiteboard and was currently tied.

And she almost definitely did know about the bet, because there was no way Latrice hadn’t told her.

“Okay. I think, when we catch this guy, we both add a point to our list of arrests since we did it together. That cool?”

Sharon laughed. “Ooh, feeling nervous? You want to keep us on an equal playing ground, huh?”

“No, I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings,” She teased, “I know you’re a little sensitive. You need these arrests to make you feel cool.”

“I’m already cool.”

Alaska snorted. “Right, sure. I did some sneaky detective work and found out your favourite show is Jeopardy.”

Sharon frowned at her, the mirth evident behind her eyes. “You mean, you followed my Twitter? Also, Jeopardy is a great show, and if I was straight, I’d go for Alex Trebek in a heartbeat.”

They were nestled in a discreet car to help them blend into the city, dressed casually to avoid arousing suspicion. When Sharon rocked up in leopard print and leather, Alaska had first mercilessly mocked her before admitting that she was highly impressed by the choice of attire, and wished her jeans were quite as bold. Naturally, Sharon gave as good as she got.

Still, they had been getting bored waiting for their suspect to turn up around town, and had taken to mindless conversation. It was beginning to get… interesting.

“Alex Trebek?! Sharon, he’s like ninety.”

“He’s seventy nine!” Sharon shrugged, and then chuckled and conceded. “He’s a total zaddy, okay, you wouldn’t get it. Anyway, he’s a man so I’m not actually into him, and no one will believe that I told you this so you have zero leverage.”

Alaska leant back in her chair, keeping her eyes on the street. “Well, if you can hold that against me, I can do that too. I used to be terrified of Marilyn Manson as a child, but then when I was a preteen - so before I was gay - I had a crush on him. There. Something no one will believe.”

Sharon gasped. “You monster. I’m dying to use that against you!”

“Well, you can’t.”

“I can’t believe you’re aroused by scary people. Do you jack it to Freddy Kreuger or something?”

“This is getting weird.”

“Agreed.” Sharon held up her hands. “In all fairness, you took it there, not me. So, we should quickly go over the plan because the asshole just turned up for his shift at the store, fifteen minutes after it should’ve started.”

She pointed. A tall, balding white man was entering the run-down convenience store, his bright employee vest halfheartedly tucked into his baggy trousers. Alaska looked down at their case file and nodded.

“Alright. Darren Jones, you’re going down. Sharon, tell me your fake name and invent a story to go with it, I like a bit of storytelling. Adds some pizazz to the case.”

Sharon rolled her eyes and giggled. “You’re the world’s most immature detective. We don’t need to go undercover for this.”

Alaska raised an eyebrow. “It’s fun, Needles. Much more fun than watching episodes of Jeopardy.”

“Rude, but fine. My name is Sarah Anne Jefferson and I’m visiting from Iowa, I have an addiction to cigarettes and I need the store clerk to search all the way at the back of the shelf for the good ones, because I may be desperate but I’m still picky and that bullshit fake excuse means he’ll have to face away from us so we can surround him. I also happen to be very conversational and may casually ask him about his weekend during my rambling about my dumb boyfriend Brad, who’s from California.”

Alaska shuddered, snapping the case file shut. “I don’t know what’s worse, California or Iowa. Gross.”

Sharon winked, and Alaska maybe found it a little bit hot. “Iowa. I grew up there, it’s terrible. The town I lived in is famous for dryers and meth. A great combo.”

“I’d argue California is still worse.”

“You’re right.” Sharon undid her seatbelt. “Okay. Detective Thunder, you’re heading to the back of the store so that you can search for the milk and sneak round so we got him on both sides and he can’t run. You ready?”

Alaska winked back. “Born ready, baby.”

So what if Alaska became a detective just to pretend she was one of those badass cops from a movie? It was worth it - she could protect civilians, take down bad guys and pretend to be a cool movie cop, all at the same time.

She browsed the store idly, waiting until she heard Sharon enter the store and began listening for her cue. Darren Jones was connected to a series of robberies around the area, and despite his penchant for breaking into places without witnesses, the guy was a total dunce. Each of his crime scenes had several valuable items stolen, all of which had been recovered in his apartment earlier that day, and he was stupid enough to leave fingerprints all over the items and the crime scene.

He was a terribly unskilled criminal, that was for sure. Whilst Alaska loved cracking the difficult cases, this one had been pretty fun. It was like watching a child blundering their way through college. He had no idea what he was doing, and it was an easy arrest.

“Hi there! My name’s Sarah Anne, sweetie, y’all got cigarettes in here? Oh, perfect, thank you so much. Listen, I know this is an odd request, but do you mind digging for the ones at the back of the top shelf? They’re always better when the air can’t get to ‘em, you know?”

Alaska held her breath, fighting not to laugh as Sharon exaggerated her Iowan accent. There was nothing… objectively funny about the accent, just that fact that it was Sharon’s but stronger and the fact that Sharon seemed to work so hard to convince everyone of how much she loved Pittsburgh when she had lived there. She almost always sounded like she was born there, except for now.

Nobody else would find it funny. But Alaska knew her and Sharon would laugh about it later, because they had great banter and no one else could stop them. She crept further along the aisles, inching closer to the cashier desk, listening.

“-asshole boyfriend Brett convinced me to smoke them like that years ago and I always do now. He was here all weekend, driving me nuts. Did you get busy this weekend?”

Alaska readied herself, the signal having been sent. The idiot cashier/criminal kept his back turned as he responded, allowing Alaska to position herself behind him on the other side of Sharon.

“Oh, not really, just hung out at home…”

He trailed off when he saw their police badges glinting in his direction.

“NYPD, you’re under arrest for three robberies. Darren Jones, you did have a busy weekend, huh?”

It was highly unprofessional, but Alaska still offered a high-five on the way back to the car, dragging the cuffed Darren behind them, and Sharon still accepted it.

“I thought your asshole boyfriend was Brad? You said Brett.”

“Did I? Oh, I’m cheating on Brett with Brad. They don’t know about each other.”

“Depth! Nice, I love it. Real fleshed out character.”

“Shut up.” Sharon started the car. “So, one more arrest for me since I said the words, so that’s 25 to Needles and 24 to Thunder-”

Immediately, Alaska had to protest. “What?! No, we agreed to split it. A point each, he was an easy one.”

Sharon fiddled with her badge, deep in thought. “Okay, fine. We need some stakes, though.”

“I’m vegetarian.”

“No, not steaks! Stakes!”

“The things you kill vampires with?”

“No! Like, a reason for our bet.” Sharon’s eyes glinted dangerously, and Alaska sucked in an excited breath. “Something that we want from each other. Personally, I want to crush your spirit.”

Alaska nodded. “Alright, nice. I also want to crush your spirit. Maybe we should be more specific.”

An idea started forming in Alaska’s head, and for once it felt like a pretty good one. Naturally, Alaska loved to embarrass and humiliate people, and she loved for people to bring her up in conversation all the time, and her idea would work perfectly for that. Plus, it would be hilarious, particularly for her, and it would make for one hell of a story.

“I got it. However, judging by the slight inclination of your head and the beginnings of a smirk on your face, you’ve got an idea. Hit me with it.”

Predictably, Sharon grinned. “Okay, Detective Alaska Thunder. When I win this bet, you have to watch reruns of Jeopardy with me, and you have to play along. No sitting and saying it’s boring, or dorky-”

“It is dorky.”

“-Didn’t ask - you have to answer questions or rag on the idiots who answer the questions wrong with me. Full involvement, it’s my favourite show.”

As she resisted calling Sharon a dork for the second time (she really was a complete dork beneath her incredible cop/badass persona), Alaska hissed outwardly. She really didn’t want to watch some stupid quiz show, not when there were so many better things on TV these days. For example, Golden Girls reruns.

“Fine.” Alaska smiled. “I think it’s adorable how you used when and not if. So, when I win this bet, you…”

She held her breath for dramatic effect, watching as Sharon playfully rolled her eyes.

“…Will go on a date with me. And it will be the worst date of your life. I will make sure of it.”

Sharon made a disbelieving face. “Yeah, right. I had a date once where the girl spilled her entire glass of red wine onto my dress and then cried for two hours about her ex, who it turned out she had invited to the restaurant so that she could beg her to get back together. Nothing can top that.”

Alaska sucked in a breath. “Oooh. One, that’s terrible, and two, you just set the highest bar for this date and that is going to be your downfall. I will humiliate you, Needles. You just wait and see.”

“You’re on.”

A few weeks passed. Alaska took a considerable lead, and swanned into the precinct every morning with the arrogance level of, according to Captain Tidicue, a peacock who had stumbled into a Las Vegas dressing room. No one had been quite sure about whether that was a compliment or not, judging by her stony, passive face, until it suddenly morphed into a cartoonish grin and they swiftly left the briefing room amid terrified laughter.

Then, Sharon’s arson case took an interesting turn and Alaska watched, green with envy and competitive spirit, as she made six arrests in one day and started closing the gap between them.

“That’s how you do it, Thunder.” Sharon mimed injecting into her forearm, which in hindsight was probably a little inappropriate, but only Alaska saw it, and she didn’t give a shit.

“Do what, Needles? Get a crippling addiction?”

Sharon shrugged. “I guess I’m just addicted to justice, baby. You better start reading up on your trivia.”

She took off with an infuriating amount of swagger, even worse than that of a Las Vegas peacock.

“That was a fucking fantastic line, Alaska.”

“Shut up, Jinkx.”

“Ladies and gentlemen of our squad, no need to be alarmed, but this is just a reminder for Detective Sharon Needles to clear her calendar for our deadline, because she’s looking at a brilliant officer who just took her total up to 41, dwarfing your measly little 37.”

Latrice high-fived Alaska, and Sharon groaned. “Seriously? What the fuck, how?”

“Simple theft case turned murder investigation, naturally. Gang crime. Boom!”

At Detective Michaels’ stern face, she deflated slightly. “Okay. Gang crime and murder isn’t cool nor acceptable to celebrate in the workplace, however, I am winning.”

It was 11pm, which meant that Sharon had definitely missed that night’s Jeopardy episode, and yet Alaska noted that it didn’t even seem like she cared. Maybe that was her professionalism, given that they were on a short stakeout waiting for a drug deal to go down so that they could rush in and arrest the guys, but whatever. She hadn’t even mentioned it, and they had been talking a lot.

Jinkx had been Alaska’s best friend ever since she joined the precinct as a new officer. They had connected so well, and it almost felt like they were easy best friends within a week or two. But it wasn’t quite like that with Sharon.

If anything, it was totally the opposite. They got along extremely well, but it wasn’t the kind of easy-going friendship that she shared with Jinkx, not at all. Of course, they talked personally the same way, and argued and laughed and cooperated the same way, but being around Sharon didn’t feel easy. It felt… exciting, almost. Invigorating.

Perhaps it was the thrill of a new friend, coupled with an exciting job and a fantastic work relationship.

“It’s getting late, I hope this drug deal happens before three in the fucking morning. I’d love to get some sleep tonight.” Alaska groaned, sitting down on a plastic chair beside Sharon. She had perched on an overturned storage container, as apparently the roof of the building they were staked out on didn’t have much in the way of garbage removal.

“We can take shifts, if you like? If it gets real late and we’re exhausted, I mean. I’d happily take first watch.”

Sharon tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and Alaska watched her with a soft smile. “I can’t let you do that, Needles, that’s not fair. But, I did bring snacks, so that should give us some energy. How do you feel about��”

She dug into her bag. “Uh, off-brand chocolate counter things? I hear they’re pretty good… probably.”

In the moonlight, Sharon’s skin looked almost blue, like a nymph. Her quiet giggle was mesmerising after the awkward silence of an abandoned industrial site.

“I won’t turn them down.”

They kept watch, determined not to miss any minor discrepancies that would reveal their perpetrator in the midst of the darkness. All they needed was one damning deal, some incriminating photographs, and they could make their arrest and still get a good night’s sleep.

In the meantime, they had their ways of entertaining themselves. Namely, telling horrific jokes, and attempting to catch chocolate counters in their mouths, at which Sharon was awful.

Yet another victory Alaska could laud over her.

She doubled over in laughter as Sharon kept trying, missing by miles and in turn, collapsing into giggles. Her head was bent at all kinds of strange angles as she kept going, the counters flying everywhere but her mouth, even pinging off the edge of the roof. The closest she came was landing smack on the middle of Sharon’s forehead, which she counted as a win, and Alaska counted as a complete and utter fail.

“I can’t fathom someone being that bad at catching them in your mouth! It’s so easy!” Alaska wheezed. “Look, let me show you.”

Sharon stood up. “Fine, fine, you gotta teach me. As soon as I throw it, I can’t see it anymore! I don’t get your game, Thunder!”

Alaska stood in front of her, close so that Sharon could watch. She quite liked being taller than her partner - it meant Sharon had to look up to her, just like she would be when Alaska won their bet. It must’ve been a humbling feeling, Alaska assumed.

“See? Watch.” She flicked the counter into the air and caught it deftly on her tongue. “Easy. Challenge mode, throw me more than one. Get a good handful or something.”

Sharon’s hand was already reaching into the bag. “You’re never gonna get all these. Nobody’s that good.”

“Try me.”

The handful rained down out of nowhere, and needless to say, Sharon’s cackles of delight made the meagre one counter that she managed to catch seem a little better. A good amount of them had fallen onto her face, anyway, so by Sharon’s standards, that must count as a win.

“I concede, you’re the chocolate champion. Congrats.” Sharon grinned.

Bowing, Alaska offered her most dazzling smile. “Told you I’m amazing.”

“And you have chocolate on your face. Real dignified.”

“Ha! You’re bluffing.”

“No, I’m serious!” Sharon’s eyes sparkled with humour. “Let me get it.”

She closed the tiny gap between them and stepped closer, Alaska again noting the slight height difference between them and how kind and sweet the moonlight made Sharon’s features appear. Her eyebrows furrowed and then relaxed as she reached an admittedly cold hand towards Alaska’s lips. Everything seemed to happen agonisingly slow, as she gently brushed her thumb over the corner of Alaska’s mouth and her expression softened. In the background, Alaska heard a car door shut. She never wanted to take her eyes away from Sharon in the moment, but regrettably found herself doing so.

“I think that’s our guy.”

She sighed, internally cursing herself over and over as they each took a step backwards, Sharon coughing and righting herself with a nod. “Right. Armed and ready?”

Alaska nodded, confused about why she felt so disappointed. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They caught the guys red-handed. Alaska said the words, so she took credit for the arrests.

Sharon rewrote the scores on the board and blew raspberries at her. Detective Velour suggested that Sharon had sunk to Alaska levels of childishness, to which she received a high-five from most of the other detectives, some laughs of agreement, and one outraged huff followed by a much louder raspberry than Sharon’s had been.

When Alaska got to her desk, Jinkx was already there waiting. She held a case file between her fingers and she tapped her foot impatiently as Alaska sat down and looked at her.

“Tidicue just thanked Sharon for the two of you offering to take that drug stakeout and rejecting the backup offer.”

Alaska shrugged. “That was nice of her.”

Jinkx pressed on. “She seemed a little confused. Almost as if she didn’t know that the two of you volunteered, or that there was a backup team. I didn’t pry, but I saw her face. Just wondering when you were planning on admitting that you like her.”

Something about the accusation made Alaska feel a little hot under the collar. What the hell was Jinkx trying to imply? That she liked Sharon? It made no sense. Alaska took comfort in how absurd it was.

“Of course I like Sharon,” She chose to respond, deliberately ignoring the obvious implication. “She’s a great detective and a good friend. We didn’t need backup, so I didn’t ask for it.”

Inexplicably, Jinkx’s eye roll was almost audible. “Or you were just enjoying your alone time…”

Alaska looked at her screen. Her computer was open and unlocked, as she’d left it, and there was a form that needed filling in before she got started on some of her paperwork that had been piling up on her desk. Really, she needed to get a move on with it all. Jinkx was highly unprofessional for interrupting her. Alaska had never done that to anyone before, of course.

“I have work to do, shut up. It wasn’t alone time, it was a stakeout! We were literally working together, as colleagues.” Alaska sent back an eye roll of her own. “I don’t like Sharon that way, she’s not my type. Don’t make it weird.”

From behind her, someone cleared their throat. Alaska spun in her chair and found Sharon having just approached, tucking her hair behind her ears and smiling awkwardly. “Tidicue said we should split the paperwork. I just came to pick up my half.”

She gathered some of the files from the desk in a few seconds and left with another brief smile. Alaska watched her go, then turned and met eyes with Jinkx, who was nothing if not a picture of smugness.

“See? We’re professionals.” Alaska retorted.

Jinkx shrugged. “Sure. Okay. I believe you. Just putting it out there that you seem so determined to win the bet and make the forfeit the worst date ever, you’re putting a lot of thought into this. But fine, I’ll leave you to it.”

As she slunk away, back to her own desk, Alaska swore she heard Jinkx humming a wedding march.

“Hey, Sharon! Hey, glad I could catch you. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

The roof had quite the scenic view of the city. It wasn’t particularly high, but it gave a perfect vantage point of everything that Alaska considered essential to make up her home - graffiti, pigeons, dodgy food vendors and an every-man-for-himself attitude wrapped in an aura of grey bleakness. That being said, grimy and dark as it could sometimes be, there was a lot of life and colour and excitement in the city that could always be relied on to keep things interesting. As she joined Sharon by the edge of the brick wall, where she was absent-mindedly tapping off cigarette ash, they watched as passersby went about their days.

“I know you probably overheard a little of what Jinkx was saying to me, which was totally out of line, but I just wanted to make sure that I didn’t hurt your feelings or anything with what I said.”

Sharon looked pensive for a moment, then she took one final drag from her cigarette and stubbed it out before throwing it into the trash. Alaska felt strangely nervous as she waited for a response - apologies and humility were not really her style.

“Oh, it’s fine.” Sharon replied, amused. “I wasn’t hurt. My type isn’t really cocky, arrogant and goofy, so…”

Alaska laughed. “Right! Like, I’m just not into… I mean, you look like a nerdy dork who tried to reinvent herself as a biker chick by just wearing leather. Different personalities.”

“Exactly!” Sharon agreed with a smile. “You’re too blase for my tastes.”

“And you’re really Type A. Too strict for me. I don’t know what Jinkx is seeing, but she should get her eyes checked.”

Sharon giggled. “Alright, I’m going inside. You coming?”

Alaska watched a pigeon chase a man halfway down the street. “In a minute, you go ahead. I’m getting some fresh air.”

So, progress. This was good. Alaska had proved Jinkx wrong, and clarified in no uncertain terms that she didn’t like Sharon and that Sharon didn’t like her. But at the same time… cocky and arrogant. That struck a nerve, somehow. It wasn’t like her nature hadn’t been commented on before - hell, it was open game to everyone in the squad. They all knew that as a detective, and in general, Alaska was pretty lax and carefree and chilled out. But the fact that those qualities made her unattractive in Sharon’s eyes…

It wasn’t like Alaska wanted Sharon to like her, not in that way. It just… stung. It stung, and it had never stung before when others said it.

It was late. The shift was almost over, the clock edging towards midnight, and Alaska overall thought her day had been pretty good. There had been a long, tedious interrogation, but that had kept her entertained for long enough that the rest of the shift was pretty much smooth sailing. She had even had time to harmlessly prank Detective Coulée by covering her computer monitor in googly eyes, during which Latrice, her superior, and Detective Michaels, her moral superior, watched her with disapproving but amused stares.

When Sharon walked in, at two minutes to midnight, her smile lit up the room.

“Thunder, you got a pen? I need to update our arrest numbers.” She asked with a wink.

Alaska shrugged. “I never have a pen, Needles, but I know for a fact that you have one, so I see right through your little power-play.”

Sharon smirked. “Right. Just wanted to make you sweat a little, that’s all.”

She sauntered into the other room, pen in hand. Jinkx got up from her desk and scuttled across to Alaska’s, practically bouncing with excitement. Looking around the room, Alaska noticed that the rest of her colleagues were all watching her with anticipation, knowing what was about to happen. In response, Alaska just offered a grin and held her finger to her lips.

“You’re not gonna tell her?!” Jinkx scream-whispered.

Alaska shrugged again. “She can read, she’s a smart girl. Anyway, I want to hear how she reacts when she-”

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

As the room erupted into laughter, Alaska stood up in the midst of the desks and opened her arms wide. Perfectly on cue, when Sharon stepped out of the briefing room, Jinkx, Sasha and Latrice started releasing party poppers whilst Willam gladly helped Shea unfurl a banner proclaiming Alaska a champion. Detective Michaels, loathe to take part in the childishness of it all but still wanting to offer her support, broke into polite applause.

“Why the fuck is your count one higher than mine? We were tied, I was about to beat you, I-”

Sharon’s eyes fell on the parade and she shook her head. “How?! How?!”

As if rehearsed - although it wasn’t, as Alaska had asked and Captain Tidicue had insisted it would be funnier if it was entirely natural - Tidicue stepped out from her office and shook Alaska’s hand.

“Working with a bunch of children is definitely a challenge, but I enjoyed this little bet. It made two of my best detectives work harder than ever and, Detective Needles, you’ve helped to increase Detective Thunder’s productivity massively. She’s willingly completed paperwork because of you.”

Sharon’s jaw dropped. “But-!”

Alaska’s carefully timed alarm ticked over, and celebratory music cut Sharon’s protest off before it could even start. Deciding to add insult to injury, Alaska performed the most obnoxious victory dance she could think of.

“You see, my dear, dear colleague and close friend, whilst you were out today working your little detective socks off on your case, arresting your one suspect…” Alaska trailed off, leaving the room in gleeful suspense as she wheeled the whiteboard with their scores in, “I put away two guys. And now, since the clock has hit midnight, the bet is over and I have won. Ladies and gentlemen, the amazing Thunder wins again!”

Jinkx joined Alaska’s enthusiastic dance, but they stopped in unison when Alaska held out her hand for silence. “Now, I believe first of all you have a statement to announce?”

If looks could kill, Alaska would have happily died under Sharon’s murderous gaze. “You’re a great detective and you’re hot.”

“Hmm… a little louder. Also, that’s not what I texted you to say, so…”

Sharon shook her head. “I’m not saying it again, nor am I reading your horrendous text. It was scarring enough when I had to read it in my own head.”

Alaska raised her eyebrows in mock sympathy. “Aww. Listen, your terrible date starts now, and our first port of call is for you to do what I say in every humiliating way possible. Would you like a chair?”

“A… chair?”

“To stand on, so everyone can see and hear you.”

This had to be the best day of Alaska’s life. Nothing would compare to the pride and glee that she felt at dragging a plastic chair into the middle of the police station at midnight for Sharon to stand on. Every part of her indignance only made the experience more enjoyable. The rest of the officers rallied around Alaska in a crowd, palpably excited that the bet had finally come to its end.

Sharon read from her phone, and sighed audibly at the content. “I really don’t want to say this.”

“Come on, date-o-mine!” Alaska cajoled her. “Tell everyone what you really think!”

There was a long pause, and then Sharon began speaking in a loud, flat voice. “Attention, everyone! I have… an announcement to make. Alaska Elizabeth Joanne Thunder - that’s really your full name? - is the greatest detective known in this world, and in comparison to her, I am… I am a helpless misguided child. This… wonderful influence on my life will now take me on a date and teach me her mastermind ways.”

She paused and groaned. “I don’t wanna - I also would like to confess to the room the deep and embarrassing nature of my feelings for this heroic woman. She makes my pan- fucking hell I’m not saying that!”

“You can say basement.” Alaska interjected, as unhelpful as possible. “Keep going.”

“She makes my… basement flood, every day. It will be difficult to keep my hands off her tonight. Goodnight everyone.”

The room burst into laughter again, and Sharon stepped down from the chair and whacked Alaska’s arm with a nearby folder. It hurt more than she expected, but something about Sharon’s glare told Alaska to just laugh it off. Instead, she offered a charming smile and handed a plastic bag over.

“Feel free to do your hair however you like, but I’ve packed a beautiful date outfit for you and a lipstick colour that I think will look gorgeous. Meet me out here when you’re done and we’ll head off.”

Naturally, Alaska’s planning for the Worst Date Ever had been meticulous, in possibly the most un-Alaska behaviour of hers ever. Since they had started the bet, she kept track of little bits of information that she could use - things that annoyed Sharon, things that she hated, offhand comments she made that indicated her opinions on things.

For example, she now knew that Sharon hated pink lipstick, claiming it made her look like a man. She thought anything off-shoulder was stupid, and pale colours didn’t flatter her skin tone, and long strappy shoes were dumb because the ties looked weird wrapped around people’s legs.

Her face when she reappeared was something Alaska never wanted to forget.

In the time Sharon had been changing, and likely cursing herself for not winning the bet, Alaska had slipped into something a little nicer in the bathroom too - just a ripped jeans and button-up combo that she would usually wear on a date, which had been made to feel twice as good by Jinkx’s compliments. Alaska suspected her friend was hoping for a romantic connection to blossom on the date, and inwardly laughed at the idea. One, they weren’t into each other like that, and two, this was not the kind of date that would make a girl fall in love.

Sharon emerged with a scowl, but even so, Alaska couldn’t deny that she looked pretty. It was abundantly clear that she hated her outfit from head to toe, which was a great start. In all fairness, the skin-tight pink minidress, off-the-shoulder style with long sleeves, actually looked pretty good on her. It clung to her curves in a somewhat intoxicating way, showcasing a figure that Alaska never knew had been hiding under her detective uniform and leather jackets.

“I look ridiculous.” She sulked. “I hate these shoes, and this lipstick makes me look like a man. Are you happy?”

As soon as the question was out, Sharon rolled her eyes as she predicted Alaska’s gleeful response. “Thrilled.”

Latrice walked past and stopped to marvel at the outfit, before bursting into infectiously loud laughter. “Damn, Needles, I ain’t never seen you dressed like that before! You look like Angelyne!”

Sharon crossed her arms over her chest. “And you’ll never see it again! It suits Angelyne, it doesn’t fucking suit me! Can we get this thing started already?”

Alaska offered her arm, ever the polite, charming date. “Since you spoke so sweetly of me earlier, of course. You’re going to love my date.”

Sharon was not going to love Alaska’s date.

There were very few restaurants that were still open and serving food past midnight, but that was fine - Alaska wasn’t in the mood for a restaurant. What the city had a plethora of, however, was exactly what she wanted. Even in the darkness of the city streets, lit only by street lamps and the jarring white light of the food stalls, Alaska saw Sharon’s face drop.

“Fuck off. No. You can’t do this to me.”

By far, the worst street of the city was the one they stood in, lined as far as the eye could see with various unsanitary or just plain unusual food trucks. Even drunk Alaska knew better than to search for something edible from them after a night out, which meant it was perfect for her terrible date.

“You get to pick!” Alaska beamed. “I’m a great date partner, so it’s up to you. Of course, I’m paying.”

Sharon tugged at her dress and huffed. “Thunder. You can’t be serious. If we eat from any of these places we won’t shit solid for a week. I am not subjecting myself to food poisoning because of you.”

Eventually, they settled on what seemed like a fairly inoffensive option, a small truck selling wraps and burritos. Sharon took about two bites of her ‘vegetarian special’ before spitting it onto the ground, disgusted. It turned out a cold wrap filled with lukewarm lettuce, tomato and sour cream wasn’t the most appetizing meal. Once she’d thrown it away, she leant towards Alaska and playfully barged into her.

“You’re an asshole! I hate this. I hate you.”

Alaska winked. “Oh, you think you hate me, but trust me, things can only get worse from here. I promised you an awful date and I will deliver because I am a woman of my word. Now, how do you feel about mud, loud noises, and smashing vehicles?”

Sharon glanced down. “In these shoes?”

To be completely honest, Alaska didn’t see the problem with lace-up heels. In fact, she thought they looked quite good wrapped around Sharon’s legs. She had nice legs.

“Come on, let’s go.”

To make the date even worse, on the way to a monster truck rally that some dumb kid Sasha had arrested a few weeks ago had mentioned, Alaska chose a ride-share, subjecting Sharon to twenty minutes in a car with a bunch of hammered straight girls. Every five minutes or so, they whooped loudly and demanded the driver play some Dua Lipa.

Sharon looked murderous, but in a sort of amused way. Alaska figured she was surprised at quite how horrific the date was turning out to be. It was quite a shock, really.

It quickly became apparent that the truck rally, however, was a pretty big mistake on Alaska’s part.

Unsurprisingly, it was just as terrible as she had planned it to be - floodlit, loud, dirty, and full of raucous drunk people thriving off destruction and chaos. They were perched on the edge of shaky metal benches, disgusted at the filth of the place.

“This… is disgusting.” Sharon almost seemed impressed. “I thought the food choice was bad, but the activity is so much worse.”

Alaska could barely hear her over the noise, but she nodded. “I told you I’m good.”

Sharon laughed and conceded. “Fuck. Something about this place feels very illegal, and I don’t even know why. I’m just going to ignore my surroundings.”

Behind them, a greasy-looking man wearing a beer-stained vest and sagging jeans clicked his tongue. “Hey, ma, shake that thing on over here. That’s right, I’m talkin’ to you, hot stuff. You look good in that pink.”

Sharon stiffened, and Alaska bit her lip. “I… forgot about the existence of gross men in a place like this.”

In spite of the comment, Sharon cracked a smile. “So caught up in the fun of humiliating me that you forgot about sexism. I love that. We should leave.”

“Fantastic idea.”

Luckily, there was a decent bar not too far from the site of their awful date, so they hastened away from the chaos of the rally as quickly as they could and made their way inside. Alaska reasoned that maybe a good bar would act as a little bit of a reprieve from the bad date and vile comment, and figured she could still ruin it tactfully by ordering the grossest drinks they had available. Straight tequila would do, probably.

“Can we get six shots of tequila? Thanks,” Alaska handed over the money and laughed at Sharon, who sat on the barstool and groaned exaggeratedly loud. “This is what happens when you lose the bet, Needles! Maybe you should be better next time.”

“I tried so hard!” Sharon defended herself, laughing. “I held the lead for at least three weeks in a row! Stupid fucking criminals working alone instead of together.”

When the shots arrived, Alaska barely had a chance to gloat about how horrible it was going to be before Sharon had downed her three, wincing but persisting nevertheless. Alaska quickly caught up, taken aback and tickled by how fast she had knocked them back.

“Listen,” Sharon giggled at Alaska’s stare, “I look dumb, I ate gross street food, went to a fucking monster truck rally and got catcalled. I need to get shitfaced, you succeeded. Your date is terrible.”

Alaska pumped her fist into the air. “Yes! Succeeded and the night is still young! Although I can’t help but feel like the catcalling was my fault because of the outfit, so I will offer a rare Alaska Thunder apology.”

Sharon smirked. “Oh, thanks, I appreciate that. I’d look better in a body bag.”

Checking her phone, Alaska saw that it was just coming up to around two in the morning. She ordered two double whiskeys and winked at Sharon. They still had plenty of time before she would call the date finished and let her go home.

Sharon could hold her alcohol incredibly well, Alaska discovered, but also that she became a heightened and twice as hilarious version of herself the more she drank. Or maybe Alaska just saw it that way, as she matched her drink for drink. She found herself doubled over, howling with laughter at something that one of them had said, with no idea what had been said or by who.

They even danced a little, with drunk Alaska unashamed to show how terribly uncoordinated she was. Sharon was by no means an expert dancer, but drunk Alaska was more than a little open-mouthed and amazed at how close drunk Sharon danced against her. There was hardly space between them to breathe, and Alaska found it difficult to tear her eyes away from Sharon’s hips.

It wasn’t like it mattered anyway… finding someone physically attractive didn’t mean you liked liked them, or wanted to date them or have sex with them or engage in anything other than a friendly professional relationship with them… Jinkx was stupid. There was no such thing as ‘chemistry’ or anything like that. There was just Sharon, who looked good, and Alaska, who had drank a lot, and a dance floor and some loud music, and that was enough.

Alaska didn’t remember when they decided to leave the club, but at some point they had made the decision to. Her phone read four in the morning, not that she could really register that either. The ground was cold and a little bit stony - she looked down and saw she was walking barefoot, holding a pair of heels by their straps, and Sharon was wearing her flats.

Perhaps she’d offered them to her. How kind.

Both girls stumbled down the street, presumably towards the Uber they had probably called that would be arriving in ten minutes or something along those lines. Alaska’s head was swimming, and a bubble of laughter escaped from her for no reason, triggering Sharon to do the same.

She was really kind of beautiful, in the darkness. But that sounded bad - Sharon was pretty in the daylight, and in the moonlight, and through the lens of drunk, smug Alaska. She had successfully created the worst date, and she’d had so much fun.

“This is so fucking fun…” Sharon slurred, wobbling as she clung to Alaska’s arm and laughed. “I’m counting the worms on the street. I’ve seen like five, and they’re all called Joe. They’re my sons now.”

“You’re a mother!” Alaska exclaimed. “How exciting for you! Congratulations!”

She almost tripped, grabbed onto Sharon for balance, and started howling with laughter. “Oooops, I might be a teensy bit drunk.”

“Good! So am I!” Sharon declared proudly. “I’m ha-having so much fun. This is definitely not the worst date ever. I’ve been- I’ve been on worser- more worse - badder dates than this. One time, this girl left me for her ex! At the table! Was fucking bad, Lask. But funny.”

Alaska gasped. “Aww, shit. You told me that! Now I gotta plan a w-worse date?”

Sharon smiled, her expression dopey. “I like hanging out with you! I’ve had so much fun tonight. Also, you’re waaaay pretty! Even though you’re a goof! A goofy goofball dummy head.”

“That’s me, baby!” Alaska puffed her chest out. “OH! I think that’s our car. It is! Let’s go, pretty pretty girl. You’re pretty too. Let’s gooooooo!”

No amount of alcohol was worth the raging headache that Alaska woke up with. Her memories were hazy but nevertheless still there, and as she tried to think back on the events of her night, her head spun. Where did Sharon end up?

The reluctant opening of her eyes soon solved that mystery. Alaska’s bedroom door was wide open, and if she squinted to try and focus her blurry vision, she made out the shape of Sharon’s body passed out asleep on her couch, one arm thrown up in the air and one leg stretched out.

With a groan and an extreme amount of effort, Alaska shifted herself up and into the kitchen, overlooking the living room. She needed coffee and she needed it now. Thank god neither of them had work - there wasn’t a chance in hell that either of them would’ve been able to make it in.

“I feel like Satan’s asscrack right now.” Sharon’s voice came weakly from the couch. “I’m so tired.”

Alaska smiled, though Sharon couldn’t see her from where she was lying. “Coffee? I just brewed some… gonna fucking need it.”

“Oh, please. Black, no sugar, and toss in a Redbull if you got one. I need the caffeine more than I need a steady heart rate.”

Alaska poured the two drinks and brought them into the living room, the two of them laughing weakly at each other in their hungover, exhausted states. She handed over the mug and recalled how her drunken self had dwelled on Sharon being pretty as they walked together.

Sharon’s eyes were puffy and rimmed with smudged black makeup, her lipstick smeared across her cheek but mostly on her hand. Her hair was loose and stuck up wildly from the way she’d slept, not that she seemed to care. As she sipped her coffee, Alaska realised she must have offered her something to sleep in, as the offending pink dress had been discarded halfway across the room, and instead she wore an old Golden Girls t-shirt of Alaska’s. She looked a mess, as they both did.

Alaska was sober, it was daylight, and she still thought Sharon looked beautiful.

Fuck. As much as Alaska hated the thought of it…. Jinkx might’ve been onto something.

Jinkx was onto something.

Her case had suddenly had this amazing new lead, and within a day of hard field work, she had enlisted Alaska to join her for the arrest and taken down a guy she’d been hunting for months. It was obviously an amazing feeling, and as a celebration, she invited her friend over to spend the evening.

It soon became clear that Jinkx had an ulterior motive, because the questions began the moment that Alaska’s second glass of red wine had been refilled.

“So… no work talk tonight, we did a good job. How was your date?”

Alaska rolled her eyes and giggled, feeling relaxed in the comfort of Jinkx’s home. When she’d joined the force, she hadn’t expected to become such good friends with her colleagues, but Jinkx in particular had assumed the position of best friend in no time. Her home was slightly kooky and unusual, but the little touches of her personality made the whole place endearing and safe in Alaska’s eyes. In the soft lighting, a glass of wine down, she found herself more open to talk.

“I thought you said no work chat,” Alaska teased.

Jinkx coughed expectantly. “That wasn’t work and you know it. Spill, bitch.”

“Fine.” Alaska lazily sipped her wine. “I took her out and tried to embarrass her, succeeded, and we ended up having a really good night. Sharon’s pretty fun.”

“You could’ve stopped at pretty.”

Alaska laughed. “Are you sure it’s me you’re trying to imply liking her? You seem into her.”

“Har, har, har,” Jinkx shot Alaska a meaningful look, going as far as to push her glasses further down the bridge of her nose to make eye contact away from the lens. “She’s good looking, of course, but she’s not my type.”

“What makes you think she’s mine?”

Dangerous territory. Alaska still couldn’t shake the thoughts she had woken up sober with after their night out - that Sharon was pretty, even when she looked and felt like death. Sometimes, she’d walk into work in the morning and see that Sharon had tied her hair up or worn something different or just looked the same, and would internally note that she looked nice. It was like all of a sudden she couldn’t not notice her colleague’s appearance.

“The way you look at her.” Jinkx shrugged, matter-of-factly. “You have to admit there’s an element of attraction there.”

Alaska swallowed. She drank some more wine and thought for a moment - it wasn’t like she couldn’t trust Jinkx, but admitting it would feel so humiliating. Still, she supposed, there was a reason they called it liquid courage…

“To be honest, I feel like I’ve been looking at her differently since the date. Nothing happened, but I guess I’d never considered looking at her romantically before that. I mean, why would I?” She stared off into the distance, not quite wanting to look Jinkx in the eye. “She’s obviously pretty. It’s just that… I notice it now, you know? She’s this badass detective and that’s attractive, but then it’s like… she’s also this dork who likes dumb shit and it’s funny to me when she talks about it.”

Alaska’s gaze flickered over to Jinkx, who seemed to be masking her smugness in order to hide her judgement. Her face was so perfectly still that she burst into laughter, prompting Jinkx to do the same.

“I knew you liked her. You give her this look sometimes, I don’t think she ever notices it, but you smile with half of your mouth and then laugh at things she says. Almost subconsciously, I would say.” Jinkx wrinkled her nose and giggled. “I’m a love expert, just saying. I have a PhD in love.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Alaska deadpanned, and then spluttered into laughter. “I can’t keep a straight face. Look, I just… don’t know how to proceed with these new… observations, alright? I wouldn’t make a move on her, it’s not like she sees me the same way.”

Jinkx’s gaze somehow seemed wise, like an owl’s, and knowing. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure?” Alaska repeated, confused.

Jinkx got up and started walking into the kitchen, her back to Alaska so she couldn’t read her expression. Dammit, social cues! Alaska was going to go crazy.

“Jinkx, wouldn’t be so sure?”

They texted a lot. Even sometimes at work, when they were only across the room from one another. Alaska would text something dumb that she knew would make Sharon laugh, and watch as she looked down at her desk and then smiled to herself, privately.

No one else got to see those smiles of hers. Just Alaska, who had caused them.

#rpdr fanfiction #purecamp #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #shalaska #latrice royale #chad michaels #shea coulee #willam belli #jinkx monsoon #bob the drag queen #case closed #submission #lesbian au

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sapph-tj254 · 2 years

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Helpless

The night is cool and comfortable. Its quiet and calm. A barely inaudible moan wafts through the air like a spring breeze.

"Oh yes" she whispers

Her body is in agony.

Pleasurable agony

She has never felt so helpless yet so safe. The dichotomy fucks with her head and she's addicted to it, feeling for more.

She feels a rhythmic pace rock her body to and fro

The loud smack of her wet pussy is intoxicating.

"I can't take it" she thinks

"It feels so good I’m so close to cumming"

Her breath quickens and she feels a tightening in her body; Her tingling nipples standing at attention. The rough rope around the soft skin on her wrists feel like multiple, playful, little scratches.

Soooo close.

The pace stops.

Huh??

"Did I give you permission to cum? "

"No."

"NO WHAT?! "

"No Zaddy "

She feels the strap slowly pull out of her and feels a tickle on her clit. She moans loudly.

The strap forcefully thrusts back into her tight, soaking pussy, filling her with painful yearning.

"I can't take it! " she thinks

The pace continues sending her writhing

"Zaddy please, PLEASE can I cum I promise to be a good girl "

A swift grip is placed in her throat

"Did I say you can question me?!" A grimaced voice commands

"No." She whimpers

"No what! "

"No Zaddy."

She feels a gushing between her legs

The rhythm stops

"How bad do you want to cum."

"So FUCKING bad Zaddy please!! "

"Mmmmmm I love it when you beg..... OK I'll let you cum on one condition: you have to cum as loud as you can for Zaddy. Understood? "

"Yes Zaddy"

The anticipation alone makes her breathless.

She feels a firm grip on her ankles as her legs are pushed closer to her face, almost behind her ears. She gets pounded relentlessly.

"Oh GOD!" She screams

The pleasure is too much for her to handle. She blacks out.

When she awakens, Zaddy is standing over her with a mischievous smirk on her face and a lustful longing in her eyes.

The ropes have been removed from her wrists. She looks at her, this beautiful being that is so rough and commanding yet so caring and attentive.

"Did you enjoy that??" She asks

"Yes Zaddy I did."

“Good. Now turn around and get on all fours. “

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luuurien · 2 years

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Amaarae - THE ANGEL YOU DON’T KNOW

(Alternative R&B, Afrobeat, Electropop)

THE ANGEL YOU DON'T KNOW carries an impenetrably cool vibe across its fourteen tracks, Amaarae's wispy ethereal singing over summery afrobeat, punchy trap, and trippy alt-R&B without ever missing a beat. The album's biggest strength is how good it is at sneaking up on you, inviting music with a sinister amount of swagger and stickiness to it.

☆☆☆☆☆

Amaarae knows what she wants, and just how to get it. Her music is insistently affirmative, driven by hooks like "Every day is mine, I flex" and "I just wanna get paid, yeah!" that are nonchalant enough to not feel overly-demanding while still getting you to do anything she asks. Her debut album THE ANGEL YOU DON'T KNOW slathers itself in production smooth enough for today's sleek alternative R&B world while pulling rhythms and vocal stylings from her native Ghana's musical world. The result is one of the most worldly and impressive pop statements of the past few years, an unhurried embrace of fluorescent pop and alté and southern trap with an incredible scope throughout. Amaarae pulls back the lens until the entire world becomes her; no sound is far from her reach. The album's biggest strength is how good it is at sneaking up on you, and that's something Amaarae intentionally does in her music so she can balance her knack for hooks with the low-key R&B grooves she croons over. HELLZ ANGEL's carnival synthesizers and sing-song lilt are so mellow the song's presence comes off closed-off at first glance, but Amaarae's chirpy head-voice singing turns the song into an instant earworm with her devilishly sweet melodies. FANTASY is textured with wooden mallet percussion and sloshing synth chords, engaging without having to be over-the-top, and the concert-loud chorus chanting earns so much character from it. Music is a conversation between an artist and their listeners, but Amaarae is less interested in giving you things to wonder about and instead focuses on giving her listeners a good time. It's why the afrobeat rhythms blend so well into these songs, because it demands such an immediate physical response from the audience. African rhythms and sounds have been the bedrock of popular music for decades, but as Amaarae distills it back down to its purest form that she can then insert it into these modern-day songs unclouded by years and years of musical development. For such a musically humble album, THE ANGEL YOU DON'T KNOW packs so many exciting ideas into it that you only realize once you choose to simply have a good time with the album rather than try and dissect every one of its systems. And having a good time with THE ANGEL YOU DON'T KNOW is not a hard task in the slightest; Amaarae performs hit after hit after hit. The first half of the album is so musically rich and enthusiastic it's truly remarkable: FANCY is this singular moment of metallic-tasting trap where she plays with gender roles ("I like it when you call me zaddy") over a sublimely confident beat, LEAVE ME ALONE, JUMPING SHIP and FANTASY are pure afrobeat beauty with a sassy kick, while FEEL A WAY and TRUST FUND BABY are sensual R&B jaunts where Amaarae explores more upfront interactions with sexuality and love over production that goes down as smooth as whiskey. She plays with African slang in her songs that give credit to the shaping from her time growing up in Ghana, even when she's singing over poppy R&B grooves ("Baby, whine and go down low / Rock to da riddim, that calypso," she beckons on FEEL A WAY), never trading one sound for another entirely. There's a darker tone from now on, lamenting a love who took her money, drugs, and soul on SAD, U BROKE MY HEART before healing it through cash and dancing on SAD GIRLZ LOVE MONEY and even some emotions-blocking sex to fill her mind on quiet finale PARTY SAD FACE / CRAZY WURLD. Not a second of THE ANGEL YOU DON'T KNOW goes by that isn't pure euphoria, and an addiction to her music is formed in your mind in just barely over a half hour. DAZED AND ABUSED IN BEVERLY HILLS is one of the album's shortest moments, but I keep returning to it over and over again. It's a soulful piece of pristine indie pop, glistening synths and sweat-covered guitars that could be playing in the background of a teen clothing store if it were any other artist. Amaarae only lets it happen for a minute, though, knocking the song out of your ears right as it begins to pick up speed. It's a bit of an enigma on an album so largely focused on more shut-in dance and pop sounds, but by god is it one of the most tempting songs she's ever made. Despite sounding so much safer than anything else on THE ANGEL YOU DON'T KNOW, every characteristic of the album is there: it's confident, it's sumptuous, it's enthusiastic. It's proof Amaarae can do anything as long as there's a hook in there, and wherever it's located she can find with ease. The second half of finale track PARTY SAD FACE / CRAZY WORLD is one I didn't mention earlier, and that's because it's much more fitting for this section than the others. It's 30 seconds of thrashing hardcore punk with a cheerleader-chant melody, so much more confrontational and pressing than any other moment here, but it slams on the gas pedal and crashes you right into the doors of the club to party for the fifteenth time in a single night. THE ANGEL YOU DON'T KNOW doesn't show us everything Amaarae can do, but it proves how worrisome a talent like her can be. Everything is within her grasp, and it seems like she knows how to perfect every single sound she touches base with. She blesses THE ANGEL YOU DON'T KNOW with poise and charisma, and that's all Amaarae needs to get you wrapped around your finger.

#amaarae #the angel you don't know #golden child #afrobeat #alternative r&b #electropop #hip hop #neo-soul #pop #pop rap #r&b #trap #2020 #10/10 #blondonbrunette

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dcvilment · 2 years

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Oh boy I need to make a life update post I think. It’s been a while. Things be different. Job. Gender LOL idek location? Stuff.

But yeah important things are I’m now using they/them pronouns ✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻my ass is non-binary or something…ominous.

Also back down in Southern California for the foreseeable future 🤔🤔🤔 and I went back to school to get licensed as an EMT. Started working and now just shifted to a new company for 911 which is hella cool I’ll learn lots. Im loving this new life path ngl makes me incredibly happy 🥺 Headed towards end goals of firefighter paramedic. Basically gonna be a super sexi enby firefighter zaddy with big arms rocking suspenders you just wait 😩 also been cosplaying/being random on tiktok due to pandemic boredom if ya on there DM me for mine.

#ooc #no joke my last cosplay was sitting in the running shower in my Spider-Man suit pretending to cry for Peter B Parker 😆#nothing but chaos

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kltiago · 7 years

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Tales of Fashionia

By: KL Tiago

Tales of Berseria, from Bandai Namco Studios, is the most recent release in the Tales of series. While all games in the series offer lengthy storylines full of bright characters, vibrant locales and addictive battle systems, Tales of Berseria sets itself apart with a darker-toned story and a group of ne’er-do-well party members. And yes: they look fabulous. How fabulous do they look? HONEY LET’S DISCUSS!

Main character, Velvet Crowe, is a raven-haired beauty serving BAWD-OD-ODY. Who needs more than a couple of pieces of torn cloth held together by dental floss and dreams when you have the most vampiric-looking Count Dracula cold-shoulder fully-lined black cape? Not Miss Crowe! She doesn’t need clothing to keep away the cold, darling. She has a burning desire for bloody revenge which keeps her nice and warm. She is rolling up one of her sleeves and going to WERK, honey. The other arm is snatched in bandages, honey, because this beautiful babe also happens to be a blood-thirsty demon. YAS DEMON QUEEN!

The young spirit, Laphicet is the only person Velvet is nice to and honey it has EVERYTHING to do with that outfit. That shapeless white gown is giving me androgynous-innocent-realness! What you keeping in that little satchel of yours Laphicet? SECRETS?! Yas honey, spill! Look at that two-toned hair! Even his own bangs are so shook by his look one of them is standing ALL THE WAY on edge!

Rokurou Rangetsu is a master of the sword, and I mean all of them, girl. Yes, he has a sword on his well-muscled back, but does he use it? NOT OFTEN, HONEY! Rokurou is such a diva he uses a sword as decoration, darling! It’s to accessorize! Yes, ma’am! Ki-Moh-No-He-Didn’t?! Yes he did! Look at that burnt orange, and dusty violet kimono honey is rocking! Sleeve over one shoulder, darling-that’s how the cool kids do it. And that hair! RUHG-GHED! You better cover that demon-half of your face with some shaggy bangs, darling because: It-Is-Called-A-REVEAL!

Hunky earth spirit Eizen is the definition of ZADDY. Tall? Check. Shredded? Check. Steely personality? Check. If you love a bad boy, you’ll love Eizen’s curse which leads to constant bad luck. Talk about adventure! Those blue/green eyes are telling you to back the fuck off and it makes me wanna hop the fuck ON! Look at that trench coat! Those sleeves aren’t puffed by fabric, darling: they are bulging over his magical-motherfucking-muscles, honey! I love a man who works with his hands, and honey Eizen will beat you to death with them! Love a good pin on the collar and Eizen’s looks sharp, Maw-Maw.

Up next is Magillanica Lou Mayvin, or Miss Magilou if you’re nasty. The trickster witch with so much secret tea to spill she could bankrupt England, Magilou is serving up symmetrical-pattern-jester with a hint of stripper. Pink and purple color-scheme? Honey, my favorite. That witch’s hat is dual-pointed, bae-bee: because Magilou has what? A dual personality, mama! Happy to murderous in a quick second. And don’t get on her bad side! She will make you sip some tea! Some scalding-hot, unwanted, caffeine-filled-to-keep-you-up-at-night, TEA! Those floating tomes around her waist aren’t just there to be magically-enchanted aesthetic-boosters (EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE). Miss Magilou will read you for FILTH and send you straight to hell with a wink and kiss.

And finally, little-miss-good-girl Eleanor Hume. Eleanor is what happens when good people fall into a bad crowd, baby! Eleanor is not a girl, not yet a woman, honey! She is on the way to finding herself and will dip a thigh-high booted toe in the waters of sin to see how it feels, honey! AND IT FEELS GOOD! That skirt is short and puffy and LAYERED. You don’t need one row of frills, not two rows, ELEAN-URH is feeding you frills in THREES, Ma-Ma. Look at that lil’ jacket! Sleeves: shoulder-padded. Waist length: cropped. This jacket if straight of the runway, bitch! Not every body type will suit this look, bitch!

Tales of Berseria is available for Playstation 4.

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sonsoflucis · 7 years

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louisiana gladio au

based off this artwork by @chenria

my discord family is aces, man. a little NSFW, most under the cut. tagging @louisvuittontrashbags because let’s be real, we wanted her to see this.

@wolfgoddess77: I saw that the other day. And I swear, the first thing that popped into my mind was NEW ORLEANS GLADIO!

@cupnoodle-queen: he stole ardyn’s fedora

@sonsoflucis: he looks so hipster-y too. like he and i could jam to vinyls. and then fuck on a stack of vinyls. OOOH A CAJUN ACCENT.

@sailormars109: Low grunts with a southern drawl. And the way your name just rolls off his tongue.

wolfgoddess77: That deep, smooth voice...

sailormars109: It will have you melting in his arms before you know it

wolfgoddess77: With a hint of lilt in it. There’s something almost musical about the way he talks.

@vashiane: Gladiolus Amicitia is the (wo)man-catchin’ beignet.

wolfgoddess77: Oh, and did we mention he’s musical? MAN CAN PLAY AND SING.

sailormars109: Louisiana Gladio would totally take you on one of those haunted attraction rides just so you’ll be practically in his lap the entire time.

vashiane: This man is just Tall Naveen.

wolfgoddess77: Gladio cooking you shrimp and gumbo. FROM SCRATCH.

vashiane: Gladio in Dr. Facilier’s suit though

sailormars109: over a campfire. Y’all could lay out at night and look at the stars. And hear the crackle of the fire with your bellies full from his home cooking.

wolfgoddess77: Campouts on the bayou would require a lot of mosquito repellent, but he brings those torches and candles that ward them off. Incidentally, those things make excellent mood lighting. You camp out beneath the moss-hung trees, listening to the serenade of the crickets. You can see the moonlight through the branches and reflected off the water.

sailormars109: When he kisses you, it’s soft at first, but quickly heats up in passion.

wolfgoddess77: OR, you could camp out ON the water. Gladio would rent a boat just for the two of you.

sailormars109: OMG YES A HOUSEBOAT. Dude that thing would be ROCKING all night. Like literally rocking back and forth. Can’t do it on the top floor if it has one, house would tip.

wolfgoddess77: He’ll take you to see all the old plantation sites. He knows all the history of every one. You can tour the old mansions, and every so often, you’ll feel his hand gliding along your thigh, or your lower back. You’ll have to swat him off so you won’t get caught and thrown out. But do you really want him to stop?

sailormars109: But maybe you two find a hidden room, and slowly back away from the rest of the group to go “explore”, when really you’re stuffing yourselves through a small hole in the wall to get in a quickie before the tour guide notices you’re gone. When you get home though, is when the real fun begins.

sonsoflucis: Gladio taking you to Marie Laveaux’s tomb to leave an X and getting lost in the mausoleums, kissing you against cool marble.

@paopuicecream: EAT A BEIGNET ON THIS PUSS PUSS, ZADDY

sonsoflucis: Gladio taking you to see a fortune teller. You tease him about it being a tourist trap. And he waxes poetic, saying he found his greatest fortune already, but a little reminder couldn’t hurt.

sonsoflucis: OH. Gladio celebrating Mardi Gras with you, lifting your tanktop for beads, copping a feel. His face buried in your neck.

wolfgoddess77: His hands would keep you covered, though. He’s the only one who can see those lovely breasts, after all.

sonsoflucis: You get dozens of necklaces and when you get back to your room he demands that you strip down to “nothing but those beads.”

paopuicecream: Even with all the lights, people, and attractions during Mardi Gras, the only thing he could see was you.

wolfgoddess77: Gladio taking you through all the ancient cemeteries after dark, to see if the two of you can find some wandering spirits.

sonsoflucis: Gladio getting possessive during the festivities, kissing you deeply, roughly as floats go by.

wolfgoddess77: Gladio will get a little carried away, but with everyone’s eyes on the parade, no one sees him slip a hand in your pants...

sailormars109: He gives your ass a nice firm squeeze

sonsoflucis: You join a group of girls and dance in through the French Quarter, shooting Gladio bedroom eyes while you make out with one of them.

wolfgoddess77: Gladio doesn’t know whether to be turned on or jealous

sonsoflucis: He grits his teeth, looking to see if anyone else was watching...

#discord shenanigans #ffxv #final fantasy xv #gladiolus amicitia #louisiana gladio #cajun gladio au #cajun!gladio #my writing #discord fam collaboration #gladio x reader #ffxv au #ffxv headcanons #ffxv imagines

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nadja-antipaxos · 4 months

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Bruce Springsteen and his Christmas pickup truck (2004, 2005, 2019)

#bruce springsteen #don’t that man look pretty #cool rocking zaddy

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shhhselah · 5 years

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Mack Daddy OG BooThang

Sunday, January 20, 2019

1:28am

Pretty, isn’t it?

It’s the kind of place I’d imagine going on a honeymoon. Like, what man is going to take me here, and where he at? Cause no, really....where he at though?

Ya know, I realized something a little while ago. Like, legit just a few minutes ago lol. It’s a prayer I’ve prayed for years, but am finally in a place to receive and see it. Check this out, y’all:

God is dumb romantic and He’s like....the greatest player of all time. Except God ain’t no player. Oh no, baby, no. He’s the whole GAME.

And you know what?

He’s playing for keeps.

Yeah. That’s right. You heard me. Peep the title. Y’all thought that was just to draw you in? Tuh. (It was.) But I was being oh so sincere and trying to let y’all in on the real. God got the game on lock, because He is the game....and the lock for that matter! Lemme break it down, aite?

Ladies. What do we want in a man? That varies, I know; but essentially, we want a man who will protect us and provide for us. Someone who will pay us attention and take us out, who will make us feel special, who will open up and be vulnerable with us. A gentleman, who will love us unconditionally and make us laugh. Someone who can lead, who is observant and honest, kind (and a little dangerous/edgy, shhhhh), and who can cook and dress. Someone who we can be our most authentic, vulnerable, chill selves with and shares our same beliefs values and principles. Right?

And fellas. What do y’all want? Lemme see. A woman who is strong yet submissive- can cook, bake, and clean properly; take care of the kids, keep a job, and have her own ambitions; stay loyal and true; be willing to talk, listen and just be silent at times; can kill any outfit, kick it with the fellas (and actually fit in), be secure in her place and not jealous (but a slight attitude is fine cause y’all love a challenge and bit of fiestiness); and shares your beliefs, values and principles.

We both love a lover who can not only balance, but challenge us and make us better. Cause, at the end of the day, your partner is a God-given tool used to continue to shape, prune and grow you. (And give you comfort, but the list goes on, so moving forward.) Isn’t it amazing that God encompasses all of those qualities?

Selah.

Think about it.

How romantic is God? He is so ready to sweep us off our feet (man and woman). He wants to woo us and take us out on lavish dates. He desires to fly us out to exotic places and teach us new languages. He loves to listen to us rant and rave, vent and process, reflect and respond. He adores Netflix and chilling with us! He taught you how to be fly. He gave you the courage to start that new fashion trend. Honey, He blessed those meals you thought were about to be trash lol. He constantly, constantly constantly desires to be around us and watch us, listen to us and talk with us. So yes, He wants to take you on dates and take care of you while you’re sick and whisper sweet nothings to you. He promises to heal you and lift you up when you’re down and spoil you abundantly.

Fellas, He protects you and rides with you, stays loyal and true to you- stays silent when you don’t wanna talk and inputs when you need to hear it. He guides you, even when you- metaphorically and literally speaking- don’t wanna stop and ask for some got dang directions. He’s the reason you have drive and motivation, suave and swag. Please. Y’all thought y’all taught y’allselves that. Go sit down.

The Lord is on a mission to love us, and love us fully. He did it when He died on the cross and raised Himself back up and opened His arms for us to run into. But everyday, He wants to start anew.

This is something He showed me a week ago and it is so beautifully mind blowing- *inserts journal entry here*:

(Sunday, January 13, 2019- 9:27pm)

Jesus calls us His bride. And....I like that. Yeah. It feels indicative of something. Like, after marriage, we stop saying "Bride," and switch to "Wife." For some, this is an honor- a time of transition and settling into what's finally permanent. It’s like, for years (or months) you all have been building up to this point, and it's finally here. “She is my wife now. Officially. Forever more.” And that's super exciting!! Super giddy and inspiring! But it was something about a deacon at my God sisters’ church, calling his wife his “bride-” after 8 months of marriage- that really got me. Something about that word usage really struck me. It reminded me that Jesus has never called us His “Wife.” But His Bride. The Bride of Christ. Bone of His bone. Flesh of His flesh. It's kinda like He's telling us that He's always in the honeymoon period with us. That our reunion with Him is always and will forever be fresh to Him. Everyday we are at the first day, the big day- standing right there at the altar. And you know what, at first, I low key felt like that was because He recognized how fragile human loyalty is. He knows how temporary the flesh and its decisions are. It's like Jesus officially calling Simon, "Peter." Graduating him from Flimsy Reed (which is what “Simon” means in Hebrew), to Rock (what Peter means in Hebrew). And that graduation only came because of the Father's influence, revelation and power. By his-self, Simon wasn't enough to become Peter. The reed could not transform into the rock without the Potter making another vessel out of the clay. Jesus told him, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven." (Matthew 16:17) Only God's power could bring about the upgrade, the transformation. And like us, without God, we can't be consistent and sturdy, set like rock. We're too flimsy! So Jesus calls us His "bride," because everyday is the wedding day with us! To me, it seemed that He called us this because everyday is a choice to not run from the altar and this union, to stay united and faithful. To not divorce or cheat with other desires and opportunities and people. But then I realized something. He accepts us afresh and gives us His, "I do," every single day. It's why the Word says His mercies are afresh each morning. Because His “I do” for us is afresh and renewed every morning. Calling us His bride isn't really about our flimsiness, but His willingness and desire to stick by us, no matter if we run. So yeah, everyday we can choose to not leave the altar, but, ultimately, His love is what keeps us from running and what brings us back even when we do! His arms are always open. It's His kindness that leads us unto repentance. So yeah. We are His bride because He marries us and our issues, our shortcomings and flaws and everything stinky, "ugly," evil, weak, and broken in us every day. He says "Yes. I do." with joy overwhelming. Every. Single. Time. His joy never dims. His Yes never dims. Unto eternity.

What a Sweetheart He is, right? Yeah. God looks at you- yes men, you too- and sees His bride, the church. And every single moment of the day, He gives us His unfailing, fully devoted, enthusiastic, “Yes! I do!” And it will never die. It will never fade. It will never lose that enthusiasm.

Have you ever felt like you were too much for someone (or the world) and yet simultaneously felt like you just weren’t enough? I have. Often. But that feeling is so against what God intended for me or any of us to feel. God isn’t afraid of your scars. He isn’t afraid of your “ugly side,” your vulnerability or anger, your past or your addictions. He isn’t afraid of your sex life or your cussing habits, your jail time or your insecurities and need for control. He’s not intimidated by you. He isn’t overwhelmed or disgusted by you.

He wants to spit game to you all day, everyday. Game that will have you leaving them boys and birds alone and settle in for 7:30pm Bible Study on Tuesday night cause ain’t nothing sweeter than your God’s presence. Game that will have you looking at these dudes’ pick up lines like dog poop, cause you’ve read Songs of Solomon. Aaaaannd you let the Lord reveal to you what He thinks about you, so they 3 seconds of acknowledging your fat booty or “gorgeous smile,” just don’t measure up.

I’m telling y’all, God is spitting game at y’all that will give you wisdom and skills to get a promotion at ya job. Who you know that can do that??? What book did you read, what girl did you date, what club did you go to, what sport did you play that gave you the discernment, skills, confidence, and Holy Spirit advantage to go up the ranks at your work place and achieve your dreams while getting checks and coin? Huh? Huh? Huh? Okay cool. I’ll wait.List em out below, please.

All I’m saying y’all, is that God really is the OG Mack Daddy Boo Thang forreal!

He’s a, “Foreva eva? Foreva eva eva eva?” “True playa forreal, that’s my homie forreal,” sort of love.

Read the Songs of Solomon and just peep the Shakespearean game this King of all kings is throwing down. Read the Proverbs and the Psalms and the Gospel and just know how your Bae looks at you.

How He tweaks for you to call on Him. The way His eyes twinkle when He hears your voice or your laugh. Educate yourself on His promises to rain down only the best on you like His name was Ashanti. Research His promises to do right by you, make you better, and luv you betta like His name is LL Cool J. Cause you know Ladies Love Cool Jesus. Let yourself be whisked away on the greatest bae-cation of ya life.

Because everyday will be the honeymoon when it’s #BooThangAndYou.

Selah.

*Oo, and sidenote: Ladies, stop calling these fools “daddy,” and get with the real Zaddy. Okay? Bloop bloop.

#mack daddy og #boo thang #God #true playa forreal #Daddy #Zaddy #don't miss out #selah

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winstonhcomedy · 6 years

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How’d Winston Do This Weekend? 10/12-10/14

WHATTTTT A SWEET DELICIOUS DADDY OF A WEEKEND! I had a show each night. Two booked and one open mic. I love weekends where I am working. This coming weekend I’m off because of a wedding, but then after that it is back to work!!!

Let’s start with Friday night. I figured I was in town so I might as well head down to Slyderz in Richmond. This room on Friday night’s is run by Lynn Painter, who used to run a show at Cary 100 on Wednesdays. It’s an urban room with dope staff, and killer wings and sliders. I got there at around 7:15 and only other person there was the bartender.

I ended up ordering the dry rub wings and they were absolutely delicious! I am a wing boy. I love chicken wings. This was like the 5th time in 7 days where my dinner was chicken wings. I am going to die young, but I will have a huge smile in the casket with sweet buffalo sauce and lemon pepper running through my veins.

Lynn showed up around 7:50 and started to set up. We caught up a bit, and shot the shit until a couple other comics showed up. Chris St. John and Moe Singleton. Both newer comics who are out here grinding at shows. Chris had a ukulele with him and was also carrying a copy of the book Psycho Cybernetics by Maxwell Maltz. It’s basically a self help book written by a plastic surgeon. I know nothing about it other than it sounds like it would be some of the most superficial wack ass shit of all time, but Chris swears by it.

Turns out he set some of the groundwork for a lot of modern self-help books and workshops. It’s all about getting a positive outcome through visualization. So sounds pretty interesting, but honestly I’ve never been into self-help stuff. It always feels like common sense with fancy wrapping paper and a price tag on it. But if it works for you laydees more power to you. I am definitely a proponent of self-fulfilling prophecy so I don’t have too much room to talk.

At this point it starts to look like nobody is going to show up. It is after 8 (the start time) and we have a limited number of comics and no audience, but then they started to come in. When the show started we ended up with about 11 ppl there, so we were ready to get it on the road.

Lynn went first and was performing with hip-hop music playing super loudly behind him. He did a good job of making sure the audience was done ordering, and eating by the time he brought the first comic up which is always appreciated.

The first comic up was Moe. The best part is Moe had been waiting like 35 minutes for his wings to get there. As soon as his wings arrive and he takes his first bite Lynn yell’s, “give it up for MOE SINGLETON!”

That is one of the great fears as a comedian. That your sweet, delicious, precious, dripping with sauce wings will arrive as soon as you’re called on stage.

So Moe is up there doing his material with Asian Zing sauce on his hands an the has an ok set. A lot of stuff doesn’t work but he has some stuff that does. There is one lady in the audience who is throwing shade the entire set. Just side comments and being salty during the set. The highlight of which was Moe closing super strong doing his best joke, and people start clapping. She responds by saying, “y’all really gonna clap for that? Ok then.” Which honestly absolutely destroyed me.

I am up second and I decide that Im going to have to get control of this crowd. So I start my set by talking to “the mean lady”. Just busting her balls by asking her why she had to be so mean to Moe. That we are all following our dreams and she’s just ruining them, and it was killing. It was a super fun set. I ask her what her name is and she avoids the question multiple times by shoveling fries in her mouth which was absolutely hilarious to me. This goes on for like 5 minutes and I get other people involved and it turned out into being a super fun set.

Honestly those are the best and most fun ways to handle a heckler. It was addressed to the point where she apologized to Moe but nothing was said that was so mean that she’d feel offended and walked out. She was laughing and having a super fun time as well.

After getting control of the room I did about 2 new jokes and they both worked really well. They were both race jokes, and I like gauging an all black crowd to make sure that what I'm saying makes sense and isn’t ridiculous and offensive.

I’d give this set about an A-. I felt really good about it, and it was definitely the best set of work week. It put me in a good mood for the two booked shows I had the rest of the weekend. Definitely a dope start to the weekend.

Saturday I had a super chill and relaxing day which was nice. I almost completely forgot I was booked at The Push comedy theatre in Norfolk VA. I was supposed to be on the showcase, but regular host/comic Hatton Jordan was under the weather and needed someone to host and zaddy needs the money so I agreed.

They had several dropouts so I had to snag a comic to ride with. I figured I’d pick a newer comic who could use the experience, so I guilted Rick Williams to skip his hockey game to ride with me.

We headed down, and had a super good conversation about comedy, Richmond, goals, aspirations, and just bad show stories. So it made the 2+ hour trip go by super fast.

We get there a little early and decide to look for a bite to eat. We find this hole in the wall taco bar called Sanctuary. It is sketchy looking af. It is down an alley, it has a flickering light overhead and absolutely no way to see inside or out.

We go in and we are in this super narrow but dope spot. There is two tables and then the rest of the building is a bar that runs all the way back to the kitchen. There is like pop/punk art on the wall, and they’re playing some rocking tunes over the speakers and running music videos that don’t match the songs on the televisions. It is like we are in a refurbished lane from a shooting range it is so narrow.

The tacos were delicious and the bartender was super nice. This will definitely be my spot to eat whenever I'm invited back to The Push.

We go over and check out part of the show going on before us. It is an improv theatre so they’re doing an improvised Halloween show to a nearly sold out crowd. The audience is loving it even if Improv isn’t my cup of tea. We watch for about thirty minutes and decide to head to the lobby to get ready for the show.Once in the lobby the other comics start to arrive including Kyle Phalen and Nick Deez (rva transplant).

The first show ends and they make na announcement that if you were there for the first show you get into the stand up show for free. This is dope and we get a pretty good retention with about 20 people staying for the stand up show. This coupled with the people that bought tickets led us to having about 35+ ppl at the show which was sick.

They had us set up with a music mic stand stand, I said bump that and went to the car to get a traditional one. I just never really like anything but a round base mic stand. I might be crazy but it just is comfortable.

The show starts and I do about 15 or 16. I had a pretty good hosting set. I get so in my head and don’t do what I should do which is crowd work. I do about 1 minute of it and then go into my material. Half of my stuff hits really hard, the rest does ok, and only one thing doesn’t work at all. All in all for a host set it was pretty dope. I’d say this was a C.

Honestly compared to what I can do I’d say this was definitely average, but that’s ok. People are now settled down and ready for the show. I did my job as a host, and I can tell people appreciated what I was doing. The big pops really popped.

Next up is Rick Williams, and he DID NOT DO SO HOT. Oooooweeeee laydees. He definitely was having one of those sets where you can tell the person on stage is hating it. It was a good learning experience for him. He’s in that stage of being a new comic where a lot of what he writes is sexual, violent, edgy, etc.

It was cool to see him work through that, end up getting a few laughs and realize once he got off stage that he has other things he needs to work on. Always impressive to see a new comic really understand that not everything is going to work everywhere and it is good to be versatile.

Later Nick Deez went up and had the set of the night. The people really dug and vibed with what he was doing on stage. He’s about a year in, and def making some strides. These are some of my fav people to bust balls with, so we were having a blast after the show.

I was singing a cover of Harvey Danger’s Flagpole Sitta where I changed all of the lyrics to being about Rick bombing. I had so much fun I’m definitely recording a cover of it on Garageband and when he leasts expects it I will release it haha.

All in all a super dope night with good friends. The ride back was fun as well. We got deeper into comedy, and our fears about doing it. Talked about my hopeful future move, and why I’m so scared of it.

We really got into some kinda deep territory, but it was definitely good to do. I am super self conscious about my self and especially my comedy. I pride myself on being the hardest working comic in the area. All I can control is how many shows I do, how much I write, and how critical I am of myself. I legitimately will do and have done shows anywhere. I’ve done clubs, colleges, coffee shops, urban rooms, improv theatres, dive bars, redneck bars, nightclubs, alt rooms, theatres, I've opened for bands, singers, poets, drag shows, and this week I’ll be performing on my first burlesque show. Unfortunately I always have this fear that I can’t cut it in certain rooms, but each show is a reminder that that is bullshit and I’ll put my stuff up against whoever.

We ended our night getting McDonalds drive thru at 2 am, and that is the perfect way to end a night of comedy. I went to sleep happy knowing I had brunch and one last show the next day.

Sunday I go to brunch with Brock Hall and Rick Williams at Metro Diner in Willow Lawn. It was a nice relaxing brunch which I followed up with watching the last Harry Potter movie.

Then it was time to get ready to head down to Newport News to be on Sunday Funnies at Cozzy’s Comedy Club which is Virginia’s longest continuously running comedy club. I always enjoy this show, because it is run and booked by my good friend Holly Owens.

This week Mu Cuzzo was hosting and the lineup was filled with some of my favorite people to hang and chill with. Closing it out was Sid Bridge who runs the open mic at Cozzys and is an all around swell jew. We also had Jounte Ferguson, Torrey Huggins, and Ryan Valentine on the mic. Allison Moore was also on the show and finally there was Mike Jay. I’ve never met or seen Mike Jay before but he seemed like a good guy.

This is one of those shows that you have to make fun. There were 13 people there and 5 of them weren’t on the show and weren’t employees. But honestly Mu brought some good energy in what I assume was his first time hosting. We all just got into it and it became one giant super fun workshop.

Jounte did a new joke about how he might have slept with a r******d girl. I work at a school for autism so I don’t use that word on stage, it doesn’t work for me personally, but I will never police a comic’s language on stage.

When I went up I just made myself have fun. I did nothing but crowdowrk for the first 8 minutes and it was all me asking questions to Jounte about how it was a “maybe.” Like how didn’t he know, and asking him a bunch of questions. he was getting so uncomfortable it was hilarious. Everybody was dying laughing and we were all having such a good time. I then closed with 4 minutes of new jokes and they didn’t go so hot. With an intimate crowd they really wanted the crowd work which was ok. I had a super hot and fun set and I'd honestly say for the room and how everyone else’s set went I’d give myself an A-.

The rest of the show was fun. Allison had a fun set as well, and Mike Jay did fine. He had some questions after the show about Clash of the Comics at the Richmond FunnyBone so we chatted about that for a bit before I left.

Sid closed it out and I forgot he has a few jokes I really really dig. He has one about replacing any word in a sentence with the word “jew” and it becomes offensive and it’s a great joke. I’d never seen him play bass on stage but I guess that’s what he closes with.

This was a fun show and my entire ride home I just kept thinking to myself how good it felt to do super well in front of nobody.

All of my success is tied directly to how much fun I am having on stage and I always forget that. Even in tough or weird rooms with or without audiences I need to remember I love comedy and that this shit is supposed to be fun.

So that was my weekend and it was super fun and delicious so until next time LAYDEES!!! I LOVE YOU ALL XOXO

#comedy #jokes #standup #improv #Richmond #norfolk #newportnews #cozzys #push

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