#like they were actually making a fucking money from it? money that should be directed towards ME bc those were MY blood sweat and tears

[lotus-pear]

i wish all people who use others' art as a means for financial profit a very fucking kill yourself. i mean it.

#just found out that this one motherfucker was making my skk art into stickers on redbubble and selling them online? with success? #like they were actually making a fucking money from it? money that should be directed towards ME bc those were MY blood sweat and tears #that went into the work. MY talent and skill and experience that i have cultivated over the years to produce something #where does one get the fucking audacity to even COMPREHEND DOING this #i am literally bitter beyond words. absolutely seething with anger #i just. i have no words. this a new level of vile #bsd fandom is absolutely HORRID when it comes to miscrediting and stealing and just overall treating artists like SHIT #i NEVER had a reposting issue when i was in genshin. or persona. or anything else ever #but NOW i have to deal with every other ask in my inbox being like “oh lotus your art was reposted :(” #IM SO FUCKING SICK OF IT

[weirdmageddon]

i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

#homestuck #homestuck meta #dave strider #mom lalonde #roxy lalonde #hs #strilonde guardian swap

[thebibliosphere]

I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?

I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.

I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.

We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.

If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.

Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.

They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.

And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.

The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.

So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.

That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.

Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.

They're not.

If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.

Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?

#sorry #this isn't an actionable answer to your question #I don't know what that answer is #I just need people to realize art is not the exclusive creation of the wealthy #and treating it as such is making everything worse

[donatellawritings]

would rafe ever actually hurt the reader or does he always say empty promises when he’s upset? would you write that? love your work xx

ugh so basically, this is the first and only time that rafe and sweetheart actually break up :(

there was only one instance where rafe had hurt you — and it was one of, if not, the only regret that will continue to haunt him, whenever you shed even a single tear. it was pretty early on in your relationship, he was still struggling to navigate how to handle someone as pure as you, while you were still finding your footing when it came to having such a volatile lover in rafe cameron. you’d been warned by your cousin, kiara — she was firm in maintaining her stance on being against you and rafe being in a relationship … you were her family, you had a heart of genuine gold, while rafe only displayed the facade of being a blood and money hungry man with incessant skeletons in his closet.

“don’t fuckin’ walk away from me, when i’m talkin’ to you,” rafe shouted, hot on your trail as you tearfully made your way into your shared bedroom. mascara-stained tears painted your once blushed cheeks with dark and watery streaks, your lip poked out in a wobbly pout as you turned to face your angered boyfriend, “of course, the baby is fuckin’ crying — i should be the one that’s fuckin’ crying after the way you walked around like a dumb slut,” he scoffed, completely unfazed by your genuine tears of sorrowful frustration. now focusing your gaze at your kitten-heel clad feet, your shoulders slumped as a choked out sob sipped from between your swollen lips.

rafe was completely coked-out, blaming his over-indulgence on the fact that it had been months since he’d been able to enjoy a night out. his usually cold, yet enticing bright blue glaze was taken over by blown pupils and bloodshot eyes that stared at you with nothing, but disdain, “y’fuckin’ look at me when i’m talking to you,” he spoke lowly, a squeaky yelp coming out of you as he gripped your jaw, forcing your head up to make direct eye contact with him. your hand gently held onto his wrist, fat tears cascading down your waterline as rafe painfully pinched your cheeks together, “i want you to get the fuck out of my house — y’wanna fuckin’ talk to other guys while m’making us money? then fucking leave,” he spat through gritted teeth, pushing your face away as you let out a throaty cry.

that was far from the case — rafe had simply caught you making conversation with some random kook who’d failed to take the hint that not only you were uninterested, but you were rafe’s girl. but, rafe was too far gone to see anything aside from what his intoxicated mind wrongfully conjured up.

with a heaving chest, you let out a cry as you reached to grab rafe’s arm, “no, papi, i don’t want to go — please ju-just listen to me,” the second your hand touched rafe’s flexed arm, your head whipped to the side as rafe’s ring-clad hand slapped you right across your pretty face. your cheek pulsed with an aching sting as you blinked, your swollen lips parted in disbelief.

the sharp sound of rafe’s hand connecting with your face instantly caused your boyfriend to sober up, just enough for his eyes to widen in realization as he immediately approached you, “fuck, baby i didn’t mean to fuckin’—” he began, reaching an arm out to pull you into his chest, his heart sinking to his stomach as you backed away from him, bone-chilling cries leaving your mouth as you made a run for the bedroom door. “no-no, mama, please just fuckin’ listen!” he shouted, his arms successfully wrapping around you from behind as he pulled you flush against his tense chest.

“i fucking hate you, let me go!” you screamed, kicking your heeled feet as rafe tightened his hold on you, your eyes burning with reddening tears as you let out a choked sob. your cheek still pulsed as you began to sink to the floor, rafe lowering himself with his arms secured around you as you weakly clawed at his strained forearms, “please, i just want to go home,” you squeaked out, rafe’s eyes glazing over — this was supposed to be your home. you’d given up on kicking at the floor and scratching rafe’s arms, your heaving cries making you a bit sleepy as rafe wordlessly held you against him, waiting until you were calm, before he’d speak again.

tears silently rolled down rafe’s structured face as he hopelessly clung to you. you had every right to hate him and he accepted that, but the possibility of you leaving him for good was really starting to bite at him. with a shaky sigh, rafe leaned his forehead against your shoulder, “baby, pl-please let’s just, let’s just go to sleep,” he whispered, his voice wobbly as he swallowed down a pathetic cry. you remained quiet as you stared at the hardwood floor that had been scuffed by your heels, your doe eyes puffy and red from all of the crying you’d done, your eyelids heavy. “m’so fuckin’ sorry,” rafe cried, feverishly pressing his lips into the back of your shoulder, over and over again, his wet eyelashes now prominent against your exposed skin.

you were completely numb, once rafe slowly rose to his feet, keeping you in his arms as he carefully removed your clothes, replacing them with one of his t-shirts, tears rolling down his face as you remained limp, your eyes blank of any recognizable emotion as you refused to look directly into his eyes. you didn’t even move when rafe softly cradled the back of your head, pressing a kiss into your forehead as you simply blinked, your wispy lashes clumped together from your warm tears. carefully leading you to your shared bed, rafe remained fully clothed in his button-up and slacks, silently thankful that you were able to fall asleep with your bruised cheek finding comfort against his cheek. he couldn’t find it in himself to sleep, once he was completely sober and of a sound mind, rafe knew that he’d completely fucked up.

this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with you. he was supposed to be different, he was supposed to be a man of dignity, yet here he was slipping into his old ways.

so, rafe was awake when you finally woke up, his heart beating just a bit quicker as you raised your head from his chest, your cheekbone a light reddish-purple shade. it wasn’t until your exhausted and strained eyes met his, that rafe wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and beg you for your forgiveness. but, he knew he’d be selfish to expect you to forgive him, only mere hours since he’d put his hands on you. biting back tears, rafe stood from the bed, “i want to take you somewhere, baby — y’don’t have to change your clothes, just come with me to the car, yeah?” rafe held out his hand, a slight warmth fluttering in his chest as you lightly held onto his hand with a small nod.

౨ৎ

rafe was thankful that you’d fallen asleep, about five minutes into the drive. he’d been wracking over his mistake over and over again, to the point where he couldn’t even bring himself to turn the car around and drive back home with you. slowly bringing the car to a stop, rafe gently parked the car, running a hand over his shaven face with a low and shaky sigh. his tired eyes looked over your peaceful state, your puffy lips slight parted as you fell into a deep sleep. rafe’s heart ached as he gently laid a hand on your thigh, lightly nudging you out of your sleep, a sad and knowing smile tugging on his lips as you opened your eyes.

“rafe, why are we here?” you asked, your voice raspy and hoarse as your eyes glazed.

rafe had driven you home.

unbuckling his seatbelt, rafe shifted to give you his full attention, his hand bringing yours to his lips as you looked at him with tearful eyes, “i want you to listen to me, a’ight? i need to be a better man for you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before swallowing thickly as you held in a cry, “m’gonna get my shit together, princess—” he continued, watching as you furiously shook your head. you were stubborn, but this was the one time where he needed you to listen to him.

“no, i wanna be with you — i don’t hate you, i—” you panicked, tears streaming down your face as you softly pulled your hand away from rafe’s, using both of your small hands to cover your face.

“m’gonna come and get you when i get better, okay mama? but right now, you need to go home, a’ight?” he sighed, keeping his eyes focused on the steering wheel. if he even looked at you for a second, he knew that he’d be back on the road, with you in the passenger seat, riding off into the sunset.

sniffling back a sob, you glanced at your boyfriend through cloudy eyes, “you’re breaking my heart, papi,” you cried, your puffy lips now dry as you licked over them. you wanted so bad to crawl into his lap and fall asleep, forget this all happened. unfortunately, rafe had already made up his mind.

“baby, please go home, this isn’t easy for me,” rafe spoke sternly, maintaining his gaze on the steering wheel, tears burning at his waterline as you nodded weakly, before stepping out of the car, gently closing the passenger door as you walked towards your house.

neither you nor rafe had the strength to look at each other as you made your way into your house, leaving rafe a tearful mess as he aimlessly made his way back on the road. every few minutes, he’d glance at the passenger seat, hoping that you’d magically appear next to him and be your usually smiley self, but he knew that couldn’t happen, not for a while.

rafe meant it when he said that he’d come get you, once he got better and he looked to make good on that promise. you were his sweet girl and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself, if he managed to lose you for good. he just hoped that you’d still love him, when he returned.

#anon #asks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #obx #sweetheart!reader

[clockwayswrites]

Danny is a minx and I am not responsible for him.

Okay, so, you all voted and I, um, failed? We didn't get to cuddling. There should be cuddling coming? Idk, darlings, this was my third start on this and Danny took over. I've got no say in this anymore. Canon-typical violence, crude language, cross dressing, discussions of prostitution

---

“You think you can fucking play us like that?!”

The shout carried easily through the crisp fall air. Red Hood sighed and changed direction away from his safe house and towards the noise.

“—fuck you up for that! Give us our fucking money back!”

“Fuck you,” snapped back a voice that Jason had come to recognize over the last several months. Right then the words dripped in fake, but damn convincing, heavy Crime Alley drawl, but Jason knew it all the same. “If yous don’t got it, don’t bet it. If yous don’t got game, don’t play it.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think a little girl like you gets to say how this goes,” a third voice growled.

Hood clung to the edge of the roof just long enough to drop silently into the alleyway next to the dive bar. From the quick glance sent his way he was only noticed by the damn minx, so he leaned casually back against the grimy brick wall and unholstered his gun.

“Right? Yeah! Yeah, bitch! You don’t get to say how this goes!” the first voice shouted again. The guy’s shoulders were squared up as if he was some sort of threat in his overpriced, knock off bomber jacket and ill fitting jeans.

It almost made Jason want to sigh.

Actually, fuck it, Jason gave in and sighed loudly, knowing how it sounded through the modulation of his helmet. Bomber Jacket and his buddy, I Swear This is Real Italian Leather, spun around and then cowered so quick Jason swore they gave themselves whiplash.

“So,” Jason said with every ounce of disinterest he could put in his tone, “how does this go? Because right now, I’m thinking that it’s you two who are gonna be going before I put bullets between your eyes.”

“Right, um, yes Red Hood,” Bomber Jacket cowered and grabbed desperately at his friend’s pleather jacket to pull them out of there.

“And gentleman,” Jason said, making them freeze in their steps, “next time you lose your money to a pretty lady, you leave her the fuck alone about it.”

They nodded frantically as they backed the rest of the way out of alley and then took of running.

“I think you made one of ‘em piss himself,” the minx said, looking from the alley way to Jason with those striking aqua eyes.

Jason just shrugged and holstered his gun. “Probably.”

The short, tight skirt clung to the minx’s legs, pulling up enough with the sashaying steps that Jason had to wonder how everything stayed hidden. He kept still as fingers tipped in bright pink nails walked their way up his chest to the red bat. Aqua peered up from below thick, dark lashes. “And did I hear right? You think I’m a pretty lady?”

“Hair is nice like this,” Jason said brushing a gloved finger through the black strands that just brushed the edges of the chin. “But surprised your cock isn’t hanging out of that skirt with how short it is.”

Danny let out a started laugh, resting his forehead against Jason’s chest for a moment before he patted it and backed up to a more respectable distance.

“Duct tape and body shapers works miracles.” The fake Gotham accent was gone and replaced with the faint Midwestern drawl that Danny only seemed to let out around Red Hood. “And don’t make that face, the duct tape is outside of the panties.”

“You can’t see my face,” Jason pointed out, a bit grumpily because he had been grimacing at the thought.

“I was still right though,” Danny said with a smug little smiling pulling on his cherry red lips. It was a good color on him. He leaned back against the wall and spread his legs in a way that Jason couldn’t help but follow with this gaze. “Everything is fine down there, Boss, just a little squished. Offer’s still on the table if you want to check out the good. No charge for my darlin’ knight.”

Jason snorted at the continued offer from Danny; it was practically as good as ‘bye’ between them at this point since Danny seemed to offer it every time. “I’m not going to be one of your Johns, Danny.”

“Told you no charge. Could just be two people who like sex,” he offered with a little shrug, but pushed himself off the wall to leave. No, Danny pushed himself up off the wall with a wince.

Jason was at his side in an instant. “One of those fuckers get you?”

“No, so no hunting them down,” Danny said. His voice was confident, but the way he actually leaned on Jason’s offered arm was worrying. “Just a bad John— ex John. That’s why I’m sharking pool instead of working the corner.”

As if Danny had to work an actual corner anymore. He appealed to a very specific type of client that could pay to have something pretty and convincing on their arm and still get what they wanted between the legs and in the sheets.

“You taking anything for it?” Jason asked.

Danny just shrugged. “Nah, Boss, nothing over the counter works on me really.”

“Clinic?”

Danny snorted. “As if. They can test for STDs and that’s about as much as I want a clinic near me.”

Jason resisted the urge to cuss at Danny. He got it. After all, he only trusted Leslie or Alfred really— or a family member in a pinch.

Maybe he could just bluster Danny into getting some help. “Right, come on.”

“What?” Danny asked, digging his heels (and fuck those were some heels) into the ground.

Not willing to put with that right then, Jason just swung his arm under Danny’s legs and scooped him up like he was nothing. Fuck the Johns really had to be able to throw Danny around if they wanted that sort of thing.

“Boss, Hood, what the fuck?!” Danny hissed.

“Safe fucking house is what the fuck so I can check you over.”

“Boss, if you wanted in the skirt—”

“Danny, shut the fuck up and let me make sure you’re alright, alright?” Jason asked, looking down at him.

Danny stared back with a frown. Then his sighed, like it was the biggest concession in the world to make. Finally he rested his head against Jason’s chest. “Fine, Boss, whatever you say.”

“Thank you,” Jason said, more gently than he meant to.

-

Jason had to suck in several careful breaths as he took in the wound splashed across Danny’s ribs. “No fucking John did that to you and if they did—” if they took some sort of hot poker to Danny’s side— “I’ll kill them if they did.”

#tbcontinued #dp x dc #dead on main #minx

[transformhim]

Pose

“We good here?”

The model’s question caught him off guard as Raul looked up from from his camera, adjusting the frame and focus for his next shot while his assistant, Damien, moved onto the set to adjust the light and prop placements. The deep bass background music played throughout the apartment in the awkward silence.

The fuck does he mean, are we done?? We’ve hardly started! Raul thought with an annoyed scratch at the back of his head. The model had been a terrible subject to begin with, giving poses and taking heavy sighs at each direction Raul tried to give him, and essentially treated the shoot as though it was something he was bored doing. His payment was way more than modest and the shoot wasn’t supposed to take more than an hour, but he looked like he was ready to leave just 20 minutes in.

Raul cleared his throat, “Uhh, actually we still need a couple more shots. The client is looking for a pretty varied spread to choose from. So if we could j—..”

“Come on, man, you’re really gonna make me do this for another 40 minutes? I’m sure what you got is fine.”

Raul breathed in heavily, “Look, it’ll just take a bit more, the contract said that it wouldn’t be—..”

“Well, you can take it up with my agent, man, I got places I gotta be,” the model started stepping off the set, turning his back to Raul to start packing his things.

Raul turned his eyes towards Damien, lifting his palms up in a disbelieving gesture and shaking his head. Damien just rolled his eyes and shrugged with a dejected smirk. They’ve dealt with these kinds of divas numerous times before. Almost too many to count, actually.

But money had been tight at the studio since the pandemic hit, and even all these years later it still hadn’t recovered. they couldn’t afford to keep getting these types of dismissive twats leave shoots before they were supposed to. Clients were always very specific about what they wanted and could cut pay if they weren’t satisfied.

But Raul and Damien had their own means of dealing with these kinds of rude bastards. As they exchanged wordless looks expressing their annoyance and frustration, Damien’s eyes began to slowly drift towards the model off set, gathering his belongings. His dejected look changed to one of curiosity as he bit his lip. He looked towards Raul and narrowed his eyes with a cheeky grin.

‘Should I?’ Damien mouthed silently towards Raul.

A sly grin spread across Raul’s face as he considered Damien’s proposal. He looked back at the model—turned away from them as he texted to his agent or slam piece or gym family or whatever—and back at Damien, biting his lip mischievously and nodding.

Damien smiled wider and stretched. He took off his tank top and tossed it aside, his toned hairy torso now bare. His fingers hooked under his waistband, and his basketball shorts and boxers drop silently to the floor as he kicked them over on top of his tank top. Now naked and hardening quickly, he arched his back in a stretch, rolled his neck, and rubbed his palms together as he stepped towards Raul. He leaned in for a quick kiss with his partner as he took the bottle body oil next to Raul that the model had used and squirted a massive helping into his hand, slathering it over his chest, arms, and face. Quickly, he moved towards the model gathering his things, ducking down lower as he approached.

“When you get to it, make sure my payment goes t—UUUHHHNNGGG!!” The model was interrupted in the middle of his sentence as Damien, in one fluid motion, pulled the model’s speedo down and plunged his face between his globular asscheeks. The model groaning and grunting in mindless pain and confusion, gripping the sides of the table where his things were sitting, as Damien popped his oily face and head into model’s tight hole, sending a loud squelching *SCHLORP* echoing through the apartment.

Damien’s slick body then began to suck up into the model’s hole, his muscular tan form thinning and contorting as he slithered deeper and deeper into the model’s guts, the entire process emitting a familiar meaty, slimy, slurping sound Raul knew and loved so well. Raul licked his lips, pawing his swelling package, as he watched the model’s sculpted ass distend slightly as his tight hole widen more and more as it hungrily slurped Damien inside him, his tattooed, lubricated form and limbs compressing in on themselves as he plunged deeper. Raul couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the model—he knew full well how ecstatic and orgasmic it felt to have Damien slither up inside him… and what came next.

Just as Damien’s ass and throbbing rod sank into the model’s guts, his thighs and legs shot up into the hole at a much faster speed, whipping into the model’s hole noisily. Raul had shoved his hands into his shorts and was stroking eagerly as the Damien's feet slurped inside while the model groaned and contorted, arching his neck and back and standing on the tips of his toes, cringing at the pain and pleasure racking through his body.

Damien was gleefully readjusting his out-of-proportion frame within the squeezing, slimy, meaty confines of the model’s body, feeling different parts of the model’s sides, abs, and back twitch, flex, and contort, as his body tried to adjust to its invader. He could hear the muffled sounds of Raul’s horny, drunken laughter from the outside, thinking he for sure must have been making the model appear to have a substantially pregnant beer gut as Damien’s body centralized in his torso. After using a stretched out hand to brush his lubricated, wet hair out of his face, Damien went to work shoving his limbs into the model’s extremities.

Damien loudly moaned from within the body as he felt his arms and legs come to new life with increased strength and size while his limbs shoved through slick meat like a tight sleeve into the model’s beefy appendages. He smirked, feeling cocky and horny as he felt his arms burst into massive cannons and his heart fluttered as he felt the rest of him come to life. Damien arched in exhilarated bliss as he felt his chest, torso, and back first compress under the weight of the model’s squeezing body and then surge outward in new sensations of power and mass as Damien’s senses merged with the model’s, enticing him to give his big chest a flex to feel it bounce with new weight.

Raul nearly blew his load from an observer’s perspective. The model’s head was lolled backwards and his eyes rolled back while his body underwent what looked to be an instant pump, his muscles standing out more prominently under his skin, bit by bit, as his boyfriend filled him up like a balloon. Raul gasped as he stroked himself, watching Damien fill up the model’s lower half, making his already impressive thighs and glutes swell larger still. The thong he was wearing for the shoot looked somehow more risqué than earlier, hugging the model’s sweaty skin more tightly and accentuating his now-larger parts. The model was no longer the shredded twunk he was when he came into the apartment, but a swaggering thicc muscle stud with his and Damien’s combined mass.

Finally, Raul could see a sizable lump appear from near the model’s collarbone, stretching the model’s gold chain to its limit, as Damien began to shove his own head upwards into the model’s. He began to elicit deeper, gurgling groans as Damien wiggled and stretched his head up into the neck. Raul felt himself nearing completion as the model’s head suddenly jolted upwards with a dull crack, the lump in the model’s throat now gone. It wasn’t until Raul heard Damien utter his first satisfied groan in the model’s low voice that he blew his pent up load all over the floor in front of him.

Damien rolled his head around in his new body, stretched his shoulders and panted a few more breaths. He touched the foreign curves and angles in his face for a moment, turned on by his own handsome, sharp, smooth face. He felt sweat dripping off him from his exertion and huffed a big whiff of the new musk he emitted. Not bad!

“Alright!” He rubbed his hands off his face and down his pillowy chest.

“Let’s take some pictures.”

Damien turned to see that Raul had blown a sizable load all over the floor, some even on the set, and giggled as Raul chuckled, panting, coaxing the last of his load out of his shaft, letting it dribble down his fingers and onto the puddle below.

“Already?! Come on, man,” Damien chastised playfully.

“Sorry, babe, I just love the way you filled him out, dude. Fuck!”

“Oh? Y’like?” Damien teased walking towards him, saucily lolling his tongue out while he flexing his arms hard and tensing his pec muscles several times. He was being corny like always, but Raul was kicked into 5th gear again, instantly ready to blow another load.

“Yeah, dude, I fuckin’ do,” Raul took the liberty of feeling up Damien’s slick muscle gut, running his hands over his protruding abs. Damien could see how into this his boyfriend was and decided to move things forward a bit.

He grabbed Raul’s hand and shoved it into his thong, feeling his new hardening 7 incher steel against his boyfriend’s palm. He humped and gyrated his mammoth cock against Raul’s hand and asked, “What about the shoot?”

“Shoot can wait,” Raul moaned as he gripped onto Damien’s slick dick and stroked, lifting up Damien’s huge arm with his other hand and burying his face into Damien’s sweaty pits, licking and lapping at the moist surface while inhaling deeply.

Damien lifted up his other arm for Raul to let his boyfriend worship his other pit, bouncing his pecs a bit as Raul slathered his greedy face across his sweaty jugs on his way to the next pit. Damien grinned as he felt Raul continue to lovingly work his shaft. He was looking forward to a hedonistic, indulgent weekend with his boyfriend—he just hoped they eventually remember to finish the shoot.

#male transformation #male tf #muscle #muscle growth tf #male body suit #body suit tf #male possession #straight to gay tf #absorption #musky #male scent #male body transformation

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men react to different insecurities part 3

Pairings: Nanami x overweight fem! reader (requested by @deegausserr) Choso x fem!reader with big breasts (requested by anon)

Yuji/Todo x tall/curvy fem!reader (requested by @sitarawrites, @hitori979, @sophyr05 and anon, I see y'all my tall queens)

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: not 100% proofread, as usual don't read if you feel triggered by those topics, listen I literally have no boobs so I'm beyond sorry if Choso's part is shit, overweight and big breast parts contain insults (please note that this is definetely not the way I feel about it!) but also so much comfort from your favorite characters, you are beautiful just the way you are 🤍

Part 1: Nanami x reader with facial scars; Megumi x reader with small breasts; Sukuna x reader with acne (click here to read)

Part 2: Nanami x reader who doesn't want kids; Gojo x reader who gained weight; Megumi x reader with hooked nose (click here to read)

Nanami with an overweight reader

(Imaging him grabbing those ass bully girls like this okay)

You cover yourself up the minute he enters the room. He, the man who caught your eye since the beginning. He, who looks so effortlessly good in that suit. He, a well-trained man with a body like the statues in ancient Greek.

“Hey, the same as usual?”

“Thank you, (y/n).”

Just him, Kento Nanami. And you? Well, you have nothing in common with all those things. To be exact, you aren’t even sure if he ever noticed you. Why would he? You are nothing but a worker in a coffee shop, average-looking and…

You swallow. You are overweight. Not that it would bother you this much. After all, you work hard for your money each and every day, you do your best to keep your head above the water. You never really felt the urge to lose weight until reality, or rather other people, hit you.

“Oh, look who’s working again!”

“Did you already eat all those muffins? How is it possible that when you’re working, all the food is gone around this time?”

There they are again. Breathe in, breathe out. Everything is alright. Just suffering a few minutes, just letting their words hit you a little longer and they’ll be gone again. You just have to get through this. It’s not like you haven’t heard those group of actual grown-ups say those nasty things to you over a hundred times already.

But no. Today, it isn’t that easy. Because on the table in front of you sits none other than Kento Nanami who reads his paper and sips on his cup of coffee like he always does. Why do you suddenly feel the urge to defend yourself, to make them stop talking to you like that?

“Can you guys just leave me alone? I’m doing my job here, okay? Would you like to drink or eat something-“

“Fat pig”, one of the blonde girls suddenly spits at you.

This is nothing new. You should be used to it by know, all the countless insults especially that group of four girls always spits at you are too much to even count. Then why…Why do your eyes roam to his perfectly trimmed blonde undercut, why do you ball your fist in an instant?

What a dumb mistake. One of the girls follows the direction of your sight, breaking out in hysterical laughing when realizing that you were looking at Kento Nanami. No, please don’t make a stupid comment, please just grab a coffee and leave this place. Even though it hurts to get reminded of the stinging fact that you are overweight almost every single day, what hurts even most is…

“I can’t believe you! Why would a fatass like you even look in his direction? Can’t you see that he’s out of your league? God, you are so pathetic it makes my wanna cry. I mean, don’t you have a mirror at home, can’t you see that you are nothing but a fat fuck? Nobody will ever want you, (y/n). Especially not a handsome man like him.”

It’s hard for Nanami to contain his temper, hand already trembling threatful. Who do these girls think they are to talk to you in such a nasty way? You are breathtakingly stunning with eyes that radiate nothing but kindness, you work so hard each and every day. You…

You don’t deserve this.

“Leave me alone”, you mumble again.

And for the first time in forever, your throat starts to burn as well as your eyes. At this point you were so used to getting picked on that you didn’t even cry about it anymore after some time. But this…this isn’t about your weight anymore. This hits you right where it hurts.

Kento Nanami.

You don’t even dare to look his direction, eyes pierced to the ground while their venomous laughs fill the room with hatred. The urge to just get out of here, to leave this place and never return becomes almost unbearable. Maybe…maybe you should really lose some weight. Your eyes dart towards the counter in whose glass your figure is reflected.

You feel absolutely horrible and disgusting. A silent sob escapes your lips. Yes, why would someone like Kento Nanami ever want someone like you?

“Awww look at her, now she’s crying!”

You can’t take the shame anymore. Without thinking twice, you storm out of the coffee shop, ignoring your co-worker calling out your name behind. It began to rain in waterfalls, your tears now mixing with the drops from above.

There was probably never a moment in your life where you hated yourself as much as now. What where you even thinking, getting all excited every morning because of that force of a man? Were you really too dumb to realize that Kento Nanami would never fall for a girl like you?

A fat pig, a person so undisciplined that it shows, a girl that could never wear his t-shirts as a dress. You are a nobody, an ugly figure in a world full of skinny models-

“(y/n)!”

That voice makes your guts turn in an instinct, heart pounding against your chest. You pick up your pace immediately, almost running down the rainy streets of Tokyo into an alley. Of course, he followed you. After all, Kento Nanami is a gentleman out of romance books, the perfect man. But you’d rather die that let him comfort you. No, you don’t want to hear that he’s sorry about their cruel words, you don’t want him to look down at you with his pity-filled eyes.

You simply can’t take it.

“Hey, (y/n). Please look at me.”

With a swift motion, he grabs your wrist and turns you around. You feel like dying right here and now, his chocolate brown eyes seem to pierce right through your soul.

But then…

He pushes you against the wall and just kisses you. His lips collapse onto yours with so much passion that it simply takes your breath away, his eyes roaming around your body hungrily. You stare at him in sheer disbelief. Is this really happening? Are you dreaming? Countless lonely night, you imagined what it would feel like to have him this close, to feel his body against yours. And now…And now that gorgeous man pinned you against a wall.

“Don’t you dare to believe a single word they said. I promise you that they’ll never speak to you like this again. I made sure of that.”

It feels so surreal, almost too good to be true. Is he only doing this out of pity, because he doesn’t want you to feel bad? Your heart sinks painfully. Is that what this is about?

“You don’t have to do that so I’m feeling better”, you mumble against his lips.

Instinctively, you cross your arms in front of your chest, hiding you like you always do around him.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel better”, he replies in an instant, hands gently untucking your arms to place his own around your waist.

“I’m saying this because I can’t take my eyes off you since I saw you the first time I stepped into this café. You have to be the most beautiful person I have ever seen, (y/n). I adore your delicate curves, your inviting smile, your unshakable character. I love the way your hair falls and how you prepare my coffee. I adore you just the way you are. Did you really think I’m there because of the coffee? It’s not that good if you’re asking me.”

His comment makes you giggle your tears away and shaking your head at the same time.

“Yeah, the coffee isn’t that great to be honest”, you comment.

“But you are.”

He looks down at you all serious again, his intense gaze making your knees go weak in an instant.

“And I want nothing more than to take you out to a nice restaurant.”

Choso with a reader who has big breasts

You were never keen to meet new people, especially men. Not because you aren’t talkative or enjoy others company. No, it’s because you never know how they’ll react when seeing you for the first time.

Even though especially other women are jealous of you because of how big your breasts are, you truly hate them. It seems like the second you meet someone, all they have eyes for is your cleavage. No matter if you wear a baggy shirt, your uniform or one of the dresses you normally adore so much, your boobs come first. And you fucking hate it.

“Hey, why are you so nervous, (y/n)? I’m sure you and Choso will get along just fine!”, Yuji tries to cheer you up with a kind smile.

“And probably your-“

“Shut up right now, moron”, Megumi mumbles instinctively.

You sign to yourself. It’s clear that he’s just trying to be nice and funny, but to be honest you want to cry. Since puberty hit you, no one ever saw you like an individual anymore. No, you are either sexualized or body-shamed.

“Would you crush me with your melons for some money? C’mon (y/n).”

“There she is again. Look at her tits!”

“She’s just showing off. What a slut.”

“I bet those would be a good ass pillow.”

You are so damn tired of it. Tired of all the people talking about you behind your back, tired of being nothing but a sex object, tired of having no character. Even though here at Jujutsu High, people seem to finally get that you are indeed a human being all by yourself and would never talk badly about you, you can feel their looks.

“Oh, there he is! Come on, (y/n)!”

No, no, no. Is it too late to just turn around and leave this place? Maybe Maki is still free, you should go and grab a drink with her. Or even better, barricade yourself into your dorm and return when this man is gone.

“You must be (y/n). My little brother told me a lot about you”, a dark voice introduces itself.

Your eyes dart up in panic. Oh, you just know how this goes. First of all, he’ll look down at your breasts. If he’s having at least a spark of decency, his eyes will dart back to your face and roam around when he thinks you’re not paying any attention. And maybe, just maybe, he won’t mention your cleavage for quite some time.

“Nice to meet you”, you mumble annoyed already.

Huh, his eyes rest right on your face, a small smile forming itself on his lips. You tilt your head to the side, squint your eyes in confusion. Well, this is definitely new. He didn’t even look at them, not a single glimpse onto your body.

“Is it true that you have a thing for blood manipulation? Yuji told me you are interested in learning more about that technique.”

“Well, yeah…”

You have to blink a few times. He is so…different from everyone else. Not even Megumi resisted the urge to look down at you, you even heard him talking about it with Yuji someday. But this man…what was his name again? Choso? He seems to be curious about…

You. Nothing but you.

“I am quite skilled when it comes to blood manipulation. If you want, I will gladly show you a few things.”

“Y-yeah…I mean…That would be nice. Like, today?”, you stutter awkwardly, completely caught off guard by this unexpected change of scenery.

“If you have time, of course.”

“Okay, then…I’ll change now.”

“I’ll meet you at the training field.”

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

As soon as you leave the room, Yuji seems to finally regain your voice.

“And? What do you think about her?”

“I think she seems quite nice for a human being.”

“And what else?”

A big pause that makes your heart shatter for a brief moment. Maybe he isn’t as different as you thought. Maybe he’s just thinking about your cleavage like everybody else does, maybe-

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Haven’t you seen her,…y’know…Megumi?”

“He means her breasts”, Megumi clarifies.

“Why would I look at her breasts when she seems to have an interesting character?”

Your heart almost beats out of your chest, ears literally unable to comprehend what you’ve just heard. It really shouldn’t touch you like that. But oh, the second you begin to realize what that stranger just said your eyes get glossy. It might only be a little statement for him, but it surely means the world to you.

In a world that shames on you for something you can’t change, in a world in which men only took you on dates or talked to you because of your breasts and not because of your personality.

Choso seems to be the first person who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck about the way you look. And oh does it feel nice.

“Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought”, you mumble to yourself.

Yuji and Todo with a cury/tall girl

Just one look at him seems to sweep you off your feet. The way he walks, the way he talks, simply the way he carries himself. It wasn’t hard to fall for Yuji, but it was definitely rough to find out he isn’t interested in you.

“What kind of woman is Yuji actually into?”

Nobara looked at you up and down, visibly bamboozled about what you’ve just asked. There aren’t many things she doesn’t think about, but Yuji Itadori’s type is definitely one of them.

“I don’t know girl…But I guess he’s the type for rather short girls, don’t ya think?”

You hated the way your heart instantly began to ache in your ribcage. Of course he does. Aren’t all boys nowadays into petite girls with a bubbly personality? And to be honest, you are none of that.

Taller than all the other girls and even some boys around Jujutsu High, curvier than anyone else, probably uglier than the rest. You never put much thought into all of these things, but right. Why would Yuji be any different from all the guys you’ve met before?

“Who the hell is this woman, Itadori?”

Todo can’t help but shamelessly stare at you. This is too good to be true, a sight straight out of his dreams. You…You are even better than Takada-chan.

“Huh? Oh, that’s (y/n)”, he replies with a small grin, just one look at you making his heart stumble all over again.

He hasn’t seen you in quite some time now that he thinks of it.

“What kind of woman is your type, Itadori Yuji?”

The pink-haired boy has to blink a few times, eyes still set on your delicious curves and gorgeous long legs.

“I like tall woman with a big ass.”

“Is that your final answer?”, he huge boy next to him urges, grabbing him by his uniform so roughly that his eyes yank away from you.

“Yes!”, he replies immediately.

“Then get going, we need to talk to this beauty over there”, he announces, dragging Yuji behind him before he is even able to reply.

You tilt your head to the side. What the hell is going on over there? Who is that shirtless guy and…is that Yuji he drags behind him as if he’s taking out trash?

“You!”, he shouts into your direction, eyes seem to pierce right through your soul.

What the hell is this about? Should you run away, cry for help? He definitely looks pretty dangerous to you with the way his muscles seem to grow with every step he takes towards you.

“Hey, let me go! I can walk by myself!”, Yuji protests.

“Now talk to her”, Todo hisses, almost pushing him into you.

“Oh, hi (y/n)!”

“Well, hi Yuji…”, you answer rather confused.

You look even better from over here, your body lingering over his own by a few centimetres. Yes, you have to be the biggest woman Yuji has ever seen with a character so badass that no one can hold a candle to you. And those curves, those oh so delicious curves…

“Tell her what kind of woman is your type”, the guy next to him demands harshly.

“Stop being so damn loud, she hears you!”

“Oh, I definitely do. What is all of this bullshit about and what kind of freak are you exactly?”

“Itadori loves tall woman with a big ass.”

Well, that’s rather unexpected. Yuji turns as red as a tomato, not daring to shoot a single glimpse your way. But Nobara said that he likes petite girls and somehow, this always made sense to you. Still, his body doesn’t lie. And the fact that he doesn’t say anything against it tells you…

“You like tall woman with a big ass”, you repeat.

“Well, to be honest, I just like you, (y/n)”, he mutters along with scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“I like you too. You have to be the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. Let me cherish you for the rest of our lives”, the guy named Todo purrs.

“Hey, I thought you were my wingman and now you’re trying to steal my girl away from me!”, Yuji protests.

“When did I ever say that, moron? We might be brothers, but this right here is my girl-“

“WE ARE NOT BROTHERS AND (Y/N) IS NOT YOUR GIRL!”

“I’ve been crazy about you for so long. I can’t believe you actually find me attractive, Yuji”, you interrupt their little chitchat.

Your heart feels light as a feather, so good that you are almost think about giggling out in sheer joy.

“Are you kidding? You are what dreams are made of, (y/n)! I was just too shy to admit…”

“I’d never be too shy to show my love. Pick me, (y/n)!”

“GET AWAY FROM HERE!”

“I’M NOT LEAVING MY GIRL BEHIND!”

"That's enough, I'm leaving. See you around guys", you announce with a sly grin.

"OUCH, DID YOU JUST SLAP ME TODO!?"

"JUST THE WAY YOU DESERVE IT, ITADORI!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk funny #jjk hurt/comfort #jjk hurt #I will never get over Todo slapping Yuji #nanami fanfic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #husband nanami #kento x y/n #kento x reader #kento x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #choso jjk #kamo choso #chousou #choso my beloved #choso #jjk choso #yuji x reader

[bisexualhomelander]

F O R C E D F E M I N I S A T I O N | B U T C H L A N D E R

Billy runs his mouth.

Part of Billy should have known the joke would come back to bite him in the arse sooner than later. He shouldn't have invited the supe in at all, but definitely not with the offer of watching him have a wank. Homelander felt he had a foot in the door now, and if Billy had put that kind of depravity past him, he's probably dumber than he thought he was.

The sonic boom woke him up, and as much as he simply wanted to close the blinds on Homelander, curiosity did get the better of him eventually, and he opened the balcony door.

Before he had even asked to what he owed the pleasure of the late-night company, the supe had already pressed a few banknotes into his hand, and Billy instinctively tightened his fingers around them despite his bewilderment. "You said ten dollars to watch you jack off. What do I get for a hundred?"

Billy huffed in amusement, even if there was a bit of sound behind the huff. Shock that he couldn't quite conceal. Was he being propositioned?

Homelander had a smirk on his lips. "I'm serious. William. I can feel your blood pressure, you know? That includes knowing where your blood is, right now. Had I stayed last time, who knows how we'd have ended up."

Billy swallowed all the other choice words he had for the man and stared down at the money in his grip. "If you think you can buy me, cunt, think again."

"If it hurts your pride, fine." The supe plucked the dollars back out of Billy's fingers and threw them into the air. Billy watched them sail over the balcony and out of sight. That would make some lucky bastard's night. Not his problem. He didn't have to pay that out of his pocket.

Alright, supe wanted to play. He could have that, surely. Billy could almost feel the moment his brain turned itself off. He'd feel the consequences of his actions some later date; for now, he didn't want Homelander to think he won by flustering him. Sure, he was half-hard. Why not go all the way and hate himself for it once he was alone again? So he put on his most charming, shit-eating smile and replied: "Shitty pickup line there, luv."

Homelander's face was wiped blank for a moment before he could reign in his emotions at the sudden pet name. Point for Billy.

"See? That's how it's done. Now come in. Freezin' my bollocks off here, and I'm of no use to you if that happens, hm?"

Homelander had his bearings again and gave him an amiable smile, hiding his teeth. Why did the cunt always seem like he had something with an unpleasant taste in his mouth? Was that jaw ever slack?

"Not really that into cocks, if I'm honest."

Homelander chuckled. "And? Neither am I. Will that stop you?"

"Nah, it won't. But we're gonna do it my way."

"Fine by me." Homelander came inside and closed the door with his gloved hand. He even cleaned his boots on the door mat. "Bedroom's this way, I assume," he said and began to saunter off in the correct direction. Fucker had clearly x-rayed the apartment before, and Billy prayed it had been when he'd been here last and not right before he'd swept in to watch Billy sleep.

"We ain't goin' to the bedroom here, luv." It was likely impossible to actually surprise the supe. Last time, Billy had not even seen him fly off. Homelander moved at the speed of light, and so he must have seen the assault coming from a mile away, but it spoke to how much he wanted this that he let it happen anyway. Billy had him up against the wall in one smooth movement, and Homelander's legs were riding high on his waist like it was natural. "My way, remember?" Billy smeared the words against the supe's lips like spit and greedily drank down the answering whimper. "And if I say cock isn't what I'm looking for tonight, that's what goes, a'right?"

"You can fuck me if you want to," Homelander panted. He was lighter than Billy had imagined. Holding him up cost little energy, and Billy wasn't even properly awake. For a split-second, he wondered if he was still dreaming.

"Not into cocks, my arse. You're downright begging."

"I'm not begging for anything." The hand around Billy's throat had crept up so suddenly that it did shock him into silence for a second. "I won't beg on my knees for the right to see my son, and I will certainly not beg you to fuck me. I chose you for tonight because you are a disgustingly filthy excuse for a man who has no dignity left for his sorry life, and I knew I could get you if I wanted you. And here you are. So if you want me to leave your body intact, you better get your ass in gear and get me off."

With every ounce of willpower, Billy forced a swallow against the fingers pressing down. The grip loosened. They still held eye contact, and neither of them blinked first. Homelander was giving him a way to get his piece in. Well. Why not.

"You babble on like a woman, you know?"

"Hm?"

"Goin' on and on about things I don't wanna know. Gnawing my ear off here, mate." He leaned forward a bit, happy to see the supe's eyes dart to the left and right in an attempt to focus on both of his eyes. It made Homelander break the unblinking eye contact, lids fluttering rapidly. "Like a girl."

They were pressed together from the tips of their noses, to their chests, to their bellies, so it was easy to actually feel the way the cunt's cock throbbed at Billy's verbal abuse. "Yeah, that's right, hm? You wanna be my girl for the night? Daddy's girl?"

Up close like this, he saw the laser lights spring forth from Homelander's pupils first, slowly filling out the rest of his eyes. It looked fascinating from this perspective, even as the intense light immediately burned bright white spots into Billy's retina that he had to blink away. To anyone, it might have been threatening, but Billy was too worked up now, and he called the supe's bluff easily. "Bitching like you're PMSing, luv." He leaned his face into the heat emanating from Homelander's eyes to force his mouth open in a kiss. "Just from a bit of talking."

"Shut up-" The hand that landed over his mouth could have broken his jaw or taken it clean off, but Homelander knew how much pressure to use. Billy didn't think about how the supe had learned this. Or tried hard not to.

It wasn't difficult to pry the hand away and let the supe see his sly grin. "Gettin' shy already? Why you wanna shut me up so hard?"

"Nothing of value comes out of that mouth of yours," Homelander said.

"Oh, come now." Billy made certain to school his face into a disappointed frown. "You gonna lie to me? I can see you getting wet in that suit of yours."

It wasn’t wrong, exactly. There was a distinct dark spot where the head of Homelander's cock pressed into the fabric. Billy decided, however, that he liked the ambiguity of this game of his and wanted to see how much he could push the supe.

"Must be like a slip 'n slide between those legs."

"Don't-" Homelander began, but his body took over halfway into speaking, had him rub up against Billy like the mere mention of his arousal had reminded him of it. "Don't you ever shut up?"

Billy leaned forward to bite Homelander's ear. "You love it."

"I don't." Those baby-blue eyes tried to find Billy, and find him they did. Up close like this, he looked pretty. Innocent, somehow. The line of his mouth was still angry, but somewhere in the depths of those eyes lay something that wanted to give up and surrender to Billy. It was hypnotic.

Billy leaned forward and breathed his next word onto Homelander's mouth. "Liar."

Homelander whimpered when their mouths met, but he parted his lips readily and began to suck on Billy's tongue as soon as he had access, ashamed at his body's reaction and ready to shut Billy up. The supe tasted like absolutely nothing, not even toothpaste. It was almost unsettling, were it not for the wet warmth of his mouth that was like any other. What a weird thing to discover this fucker's humanity through.

Billy decided he'd had enough of the stalling and went to his knees. The supe's legs slipped from his waist in the movement; they were unsteady when holding up his weight.

Homelander willingly pushed his hips into Billy's hands as he began to open the belt holding the outfit together. He'd never seen the ins 'n outs of that. The suit wasn't one piece. It was a top and trousers that could be pulled down like leggins. Skin-tight and stuffed full of foam to give the impression of defined abs and pecs. Uncovering a bit of skin between the top half and the bottom half of the outfit felt like a forbidden pleasure, and Billy's mouth descended on an exposed hip bone before he even had time to plan out his move.

"Thought cock wasn't what you were looking to get," Homelander mumbled.

Billy huffed a laugh against the skin under his teeth and felt an almost nauseating flutter in his abdomen as shaky fingers held on to his shoulders. "Nah. I'm here for that pretty cunt you got hidden away." The fingers flexed and spasmed; Homelander's hips ground forward of their own accord.

Billy was so hard he felt dizzy with it, and he blinked to get his wits about him. He couldn't forget his mind completely. This was still none other than the monster who'd destroyed him - or the parts that were worth destroying anyway.

He pulled the ridiculous trousers of the outfit down to Homelander's knees and was met with...

"Red panties? You on the rag?"

"You're disgusting," Homelander commented, but he sounded so out of breath Billy considered the comment flattery.

"Gets you wet enough." The front of the supe's briefs was almost black with precum in the low light of Billy's living room. "Why give you pretty words when this gets the job done just fine, eh, bird?"

"Please." And oh, if that word didn't go straight to Billy's dick.

"Please what?"

Homelander squirmed, and Billy didn't help by blowing air on the wet spot where the cunt's cockhead was seen straining through the cotton. "Eat me-?" Shame clogged his throat, and now Billy did help out by leaning forward and rubbing his beard against an exposed thigh, earning something that came close to a mewl and finally got the answer he desired. "Eat me out. Daddy."

"Good girl." He pulled the briefs down to the rest of the way and went on to unzip the ridiculous red boots. The supe toed out of them so quickly he nearly tripped, and Billy made quick work of the rest of the clothes by pulling on them to let the cunt step out.

Half-naked, the masculinizing effects of the costume were visible. The clothed half of Homelander still looked imposing, but his naked legs were literal sticks. His ass round, but not nearly as firm as the outfit made it seem. Billy slid his hands up the back to cup the cheeks. "Leg on Daddy's shoulder, girl. Come on. Giddy up."

Homelander obeyed without complaint, like he was beyond words. Maybe Butcher had him where he wanted. And where was that even? In what universe did he want him? And was there still a remote chance he'd wake up hard and full of self-loathing?

Not much time to think about it when the current position spread the cunt's ass so deliciously and allowed Billy a good look at his hole. Fucker was shaved everywhere, it seemed, not a single hair more than necessary on him.

"Brazilian? Fine choice, princess."

"God, fuuuck." Homelander shivered, a foot pressing into Billy's shoulder blade with an amount of pressure that bordered on abusive. He'd get a bruise there. It drove him forward, though.

"Got the prettiest cunt I've seen." As if to prove a point, Billy lapped at the hole, huffing a laugh when he saw the muscle contract. "Look at that. Pinker than a virgin. Or is that it, huh? Anyone ever been where I am now?"

The silence was damning.

"Never had a man before." He held onto Homelander's thighs for leverage and pulled himself up again, shoving his face in for real this time.

Homelander's hand found his hair and pulled with surprising gentleness. It was an interesting contrast. Billy'd have sooner expected him to push him forward and not try to pull him backwards, but the cunt probably was lost to the pleasure and didn't remember how to move in any coordinated fashion. And they'd barely started.

He lapped at the furled muscle, relishing in the way it spasmed against his lips. As much as Homelander kept complaining, this he could hardly deny. This was his body talking.

No denying it; Billy'd always been an ass man. Something about getting his tongue in there had been appealing since a young age. The filth of it, sweat and musk. The embarrassment of his partners when they realized how much he loved inhaling all of it. Like a bloodhound.

Not with him. He was clean, no sweat, no smell. But aroused all the same and opening up to Billy's ministrations. The thighs around his face quivered. The hand in his hair went from insistent to demanding. Homelander's body was putting out heat like a furnace, and it drove sweat to Billy's brow.

"Fuck," he could hear a muffled voice from above. Was the cunt covering his mouth to keep in his noises? Afraid there were fans in the apartments around?

There was definitely movement happening, and Billy just knew without looking that Homelander meant to touch himself. He pulled back immediately, licked his lips where Homelander could see and looked up at him with disappointment.

Homelander's hand around his own cock went still, and his eyes were wide. He's scared he's been bad, Billy realized, and the thought made his neglected cock throb. Fuck, he'd have to get out of those trousers. The strain against the zipper was gonna kill him.

Billy gently pried the supe's hand away from his erection. "Pretty birds like you only come from getting their snatch eaten."

Homelander let out a wet sound that might have been a gasp or a sob. His eyes were teary, and- was that a red gleam or was Billy just suffering the first effects of hypoxia from spending minutes between those cheeks?

"You're close anyway. No reason to abuse that pretty lil' bean of yours."

"My-"

"Your clit, luv." Billy dove back in.

He tried not to get too smug at the gasp that Homelander let out when he managed to work his tongue in again. He knew it wouldn't do much for this one, but he rubbed his face sideways against an inner thigh anyway. At least give the notion of a notion of beard burn to a cunt with impenetrable skin. Felt soft to the touch, though. Real lifelike.

His own drool dripped down his chin and onto his sleep shirt, but he didn't plan on wiping it off. Half the fun was getting dirty and besides- "Fuckin' dripping, babygirl. Gonna squirt all over Daddy? Is that it? You gettin' close."

Homelander's head fell back against the wall; Billy could hear the small thud. How he still had enough of his wits to not slam it back so hard he went through the wall was beyond him. Cunt's self control was so ingrained it was a downright sad business. Though Billy really preferred to live, most days.

He gave it his all, tongue-punching the cunt's hole until his jaw ached because he needed to feel him break, he needed it more than he needed to come. He grinned when he could feel the first small contractions in the muscle, the way Homelander's body began to seize. His muscles started trembling where Billy was holding on.

"Come for Daddy."

"Fffuck!" The supe broke above him. Billy was wise to pull his tongue out before that happened, but did push his thumb into Homelander's perineum for some extra stimulation.

There was a hand in his hair again, but it felt downright weak, barely grasping.

Homelander's leg slipped off him tiredly, and the supe blinked at him with mild confusion, glassy-eyed and dopey, but apprehensive. Billy was almost sure he mirrored the expression.

He hadn't even orgasmed himself, but there was a sort of mental clarity barreling towards him like a train, and he really, really wanted to close his eyes before the headlights of that thing hit him.

Homelander took the decision from him because when Billy did blink, the pile of clothes on the floor and the entire supe had vanished into thin air.

He sat on the floor for a good half an hour before his aching knees forced him to get up and he managed to wipe his mouth with fingers that were just a bit too unsteady.

#billy butcher #homelander #butchlander #my writing

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Through the Fire

Jason Todd x batmom!reader

Jason’s death broke you almost beyond repair, sending you into a dark pit that you struggled to claw yourself from. But what about your baby boy? What about what happened to him? And could you ever save him like you should have done years ago?

Warnings: ANGST, lots about Jason’s death, kidnapping, Jason needs a hug, references to Damian’s conception, I repeat shit tons of angst, reader wants to die for a while, swearing, descriptions of scars, insults thrown at reader, references to murder

WC: 1.7k

A/N: I realise I took this in a different direction than what the request actually was but I hope you still like it!

Minors DNI

You didn’t think being a mother was ever in your life plan, it wasn’t like you didn’t want children, you just never expected it to happen. Then, a little bird named Dick trotted into your life, bringing along with him a man who you knew was your soulmate. And a few years later, things got even better.

A boy, barely 11 years-old, tried to steal the tires off of the bat-mobile. And less than 24 hours later, he became a Wayne. Life was good, for a while. You did your best to provide your boys with as normal a life as possible given the circumstances and they seemed to flourish. That is until Jason was a month shy of his 14th birthday.

You remember that night in vivid detail like a horrible nightmare you couldn’t escape. Bruce had been silent on the coms after the explosion making a deep sense of unease settle in your gut. You remember little Jason’s bright yellow cape saturated with red, the fabric wrapped tightly around your son’s body, shielding you from the horror.

Bruce made eye-contact with you and you knew, you knew your little jay-bird had been ripped from you before his life could even really begin. The scream that echoed through the cave as you fell to your knees still haunts Alfred and Bruce to this day. The utter despair and rage of a mother who lost their baby rattling their bones.

For a long time, you blamed Bruce. Once Jason had been buried beneath his favourite tree on the grounds, you stopped speaking to your husband. You moved to the other side of the manor, refusing to eat or even sleep. You wanted so badly to be with your boy again and you wished every day that you had been the one who died, not him.

The appearance of Tim saved you. That smart little boy who wouldn’t take no for an answer wormed his way into your heart. He helped gather the pieces of your heart and stick them back together, even if there were a few shards that lay with your Jason.

Bruce welcomed you home with open arms and you both were finally able to grieve together. You became a united front once more, able to face any situation with the knowledge that you weren’t alone.

But nothing could have prepared you for this.

With a pained groan, your mind emerged from the darkness of unconsciousness. Your eyelids felt heavier than normal as you struggled to open them but eventually, you were successful. As far as you could tell from the dim light streaming through the windows, you were in an abandoned apartment. It stank of stale urine and cigarettes.

You huffed and glanced down to find that you had been tied to an old dining chair. Your gaze lifted to the door which was only a few feet in front of you. If you could bounce on the seat with enough force, you might be able to shatter the old wood and make a run for it.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” The deep voice that spoke from the darkness further into the apartment startled you but you regained your composure quickly, after all this wasn’t your first rodeo.

“What do you want? Money? Leverage?” The man chuckled and you saw the shadow of his figure move. From what you could tell, he was huge.

“No, we just need to have a little conversation without Mr Wayne meddling.” Your stomach dropped. Who the fuck was this guy? But before you could retort, he stepped from the shadows.

The red of his helmet was what struck you first. The metal was smooth save for the white slits for his eyes, even to you who had faced the Joker head on, it was incredibly intimidating. Then emerged the maroon bat on his chest so like the symbol your husband sported. Then the two guns strapped to his thighs.

Anger rushed through your veins before you could stop it. “Red Hood.” You spat. 

“Very good!” He replied sarcastically. “I’m glad I made an impression.” He walked casually over to you, his goliath body towering over you. The old floorboards creaked under his weight as he moved with the grace of a man who had spent his whole life being a soldier.

Your face remained stern as he approached, not showing even a lick of emotion. Your husband’s words echoed through your mind. “Do not show your fear, give them nothing.”

“You’ve already killed more than 20 people in Gotham, I don’t think that’s a great impression to give.” 

“20 people that you know of.” He snarked, a thick Gothomite accent slipping through his carefully crafted facade. “It isn’t like your beloved husband is doing much to clean up the streets.”

He walked casually behind where you were bound and tugged on your restraints. You flinched as the rope dug into your plush stomach. “I mean he couldn’t even kill the son of a bitch that murdered your precious ‘baby bird’.” He hissed, voice full of raw hatred.

Ice ran through your veins. You couldn’t answer him, too shocked that he knew of Bruce’s double life. “I mean what kind of a man replaces his son less than a year after he was beaten to death with a crowbar! And you know what makes it even worse?” His face was now right beside yours, his mask pressed against your ear as he whispered his next words. “You let him.”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about!” You crumbled, you couldn’t help it. The pain of Jason’s death was all-too-present in your lives. “I died the same day he did.” 

“And yet you’re still breathing.” He moved away, turning his back to you. “And I know why, it’s because you weren’t really his mother. You just took him in as a little pet project because you were a bored housewife with no one to nag since your Brucie was out fucking other women. If you were really my mother, you would have killed yourself a long time ago.”

A gloved hand reached up and undid the hidden clasp in his helmet. The metal fell away easily, revealing a mop of pitch black hair that covered the back of his pale neck. “Poor Mrs Wayne, stuck in that big house all alone with so much love to give but no one to give it to. Jesus Christ, no wonder Dick left, you are so stifling.”

He huffed through his nose as if this whole thing was one big cosmic joke before Red Hood finally turned to face you once more. “Well mommy, how does it feel to know that your jay-bird is a murderer?” 

“Oh god.” You whimpered as you took him in. Jason’s face was covered with the silvery lines of old scars, including a large one that curled up from the corner of his lip all the way up his cheek, giving him a snarled smile. His eyes were no longer the soft hazel that they once were but now an almost supernatural green. A slash of white cut through his dark hair.

He was so different but he was still Jason. “My baby.” Tears quickly rolled down your full cheeks. “You’re alive.” You didn’t fight against your bonds anymore, you couldn’t. It felt like your body was shutting down as shock set it. 

Jason scoffed at your tears. “Oh so now you wanna start crying? Fucking pathetic.” He rolled his eyes.

“My boy, my boy.” You cried. He was alive, all this time he was alive and you hadn’t found him. Guilt settled heavily in your gut and suddenly it was like it was 5 years ago. “I’m so sorry.” 

“You’re just sorry that now you have to face the consequences of your actions.” You shook your head. “Or are you sorry that you weren’t a better mommy?” He asked mockingly. 

“I’m so sorry Jason. I’m sorry. I love you so much.” You were in near hysterics now. “I love you.”

But evidently, that was the wrong thing to say because with an explosive amount of power, Jason threw his helmet at the far wall. The metal dented upon impact, shattering the cheap drywall. “No you don’t! You never did!” He blazed with an anger you had never seen before.

“I do. You were the best thing to happen to me Jason. You’re my baby. I’ll love you forever.” And for a split second, you saw the rage melt away and what was left was that scared little kid who just needed a guiding hand.

“Fuck you! You’re just a fucking trophy wife who can’t even keep her husband in her own bed!” He screamed into your face but you did not flinch.

“I love you.” You repeated, your tone unwavering.

“You aren’t even my real mother!” His face was red with emotion, just the same way it used to when he was upset or frustrated.

“I love you.”

“I don’t love you!” He shouted back but his eyes could no longer meet yours and his hands were shaking.

“I love you.” Your voice was soft now, just barely a whisper but you knew he heard you. He shot forward, slipping a knife from some hidden pocket into his palm. The ropes that held you fell away just as he collapsed into your arms.

You did not hesitate, you wrapped him up as tightly as you could, Jason’s head falling to the crook of your neck as your fingers tangled in his hair. “I love you my Jason.” Tears soaked through your shirt as he sobbed, his huge chest heaving with his pain.

“I was so scared. I just wanted you and you weren’t there. There was so much fire and blood.” Thick arms wound around your waist, squeezing you harshly. “I wanted my mommy.”

“I’m here now. I’m never letting you go again, never.”

He nuzzled further into you and you almost didn’t catch his quiet “I love you momma.” 

“I love you more.”

And that’s where Dick found you hours later, kneeling on the dirty floor of a condemned building, Red Hood asleep in your arms as you sang him a lullaby.

Anon request: 3.The boys did something wrong and she punish them by (whatever you want to do) and one of the replies, “you’re not My Mom!”

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[wonysugar]

it’s so over for me…. ch. 12

wdym y/n’s drunk??

word count: 2.9k

warnings: alcohol, weed and sex!! :]

tags: puppy kink, spitting kink(?), sub!aeri, dom!yn, bathroom sex, it’s a college house party idk what to tell you,,

there you were, in the middle of this horrible-decision-making-young-adults infested place, clothed in what you swore you wouldn’t even consider wearing. look, there was nothing else you could’ve done, it was around 11pm at the time, every store was closed, and even if they weren’t, you had like, no money. you had to work with what you had which was apparently a bunch of fuckass warm hoodies and sweatpants.

stopping yourself from just standing somewhere just observing everyone having fun, you decided to walk around after a bit. squeezing yourself through the unending piles of people drinking and smoking just by the front door. it reeked of marijuana as soon as you entered the house, but honestly, it was a college house party, what were you expecting?

at the corner of your eye, you spotted your two surprisingly decently dressed best friends, heejin and kazuha, standing next to the very cliche, very heavily liquor-filled red cups. heejin was wearing a black crop-top that very much showed cleavage with a black short skirt, the outfit completed by thin fishnets and thick black boots. kazuha, went for a more cozy look and wore a baggy white long-sleeved shirt under a brown graphic tee. her baggy pants were black and matching with her black and white converse.

you quickly rushed to get to them, waving at them as you still squeezed through. soon enough, they noticed you as you got out of the huddle of students.

“..what are you wearing.” heejin raised an eyebrow, her eyes slightly widened at the sight of the god-awful clothing before her. you shrugged, also eyeing her up and down.

“look. you know that i had nothing to wear! actually, let’s not mind my clothing, you wanna talk about the fact that you dressed up like a gothic slut?” you teased back, earning a small, amused oohh from kazuha.

“this is a college party, y/n, not bible study. everyone here is supposed to dress up like whores.”

you both subtly looked at kazuha’s attire, her innocent face looking back at the both of you just making the whole ‘loser girl who got lost on her way to the gaming café’ vibe look even more ridiculous. it’s okay though, she looked gay and confused enough to attract girls.

-

ning and aeri were watching this very random guy who’s been doing a very random handstand for about 20 minutes whilst everybody was hyping him up.

“holy shit he’s so fucking red.. he might actually faint from this oh my god??” said aeri, wiping away her tears of laughter with her finger while still cackling hardly at the scene. she was being careful not to damage her nails in any way. i mean, she got them done three days ago, they were precious.

ning glanced away to contemplate if throwing this party was even a good idea in the first place, that’s when she saw you watching your friends down whole cups of vodka and laughing with them.

well that answers her question!

she nudged a still laughing aeri with her elbow, annoying smirk plastered on her face as she still watched you from afar. “aeri, look at this.” she said, eventually, said girl looked in the same direction, still barely getting over the dude that was circled by people while he was practically doing acrobatics, “huh, what’s up?”

“isn’t that your girlfriend? you should go talk to her.” ning suggested playfully, earning a scoff from aeri. “also what the fuck is she wearing.” she quietly added, not realizing that she said that sort of outloud.

“i’m not going over there, she’s gonna like, judge me.” said the japanese girl, now gently rubbing on her arm as her expression morphs into one of worry. aeri uchinaga displaying nervous tics? that’s new.

“aeri, you’re the most popular girl on campus, everybody wants to either be you or be with you. if y/n l/n judges you, then you can jus-“

“where the fuck is jimin? we’re already all out of booze, god damn it.” minjeong interrupted, crashing into the conversation with absolutely no care about what they were talking about beforehand, which was typical minjeong behavior, so they weren’t offended.

“i don’t fucking know? probably making out with some girl?” aeri responded, wearing a cocky smirk while ning chuckled. it was very, and i mean very probable that jimin was doing someone right now. sure, she pretended to be homophobic when it came to aeri for shits and giggles, but that girl basically fucked everything she found remotely attractive. and that, included lots of girls and boys on campus, who were also coincidentally all rich?

“oh how lovely. well, we all wonder when that’s gonna be you with y/n! you fucking bitch..” she shoves her cup onto aeri as she mumbles that last bit then glares at both of the girls before walking away. in minjeong’s language, that basically meant “okay, thanks for letting me know! love you!” so they just sent her her way with a wave that she didn’t even get to see. ning immediately then turns back to aeri.

“okay, so, like i was saying! you should just be cool, unbothered, nonchalant. you know what i mean? who cares if she rejects you, there’s plenty of fish in the sea.” she said, trying to reassure her best friend and pretending like she didn’t completely rat aeri out to y/n not even a week ago at starbucks.

aeri, in return, only gave her an even more worried look, the one that she usually had whenever she sighed deeply and went “ughhh i don’t knowww..”, but this time she just stayed quiet. she was gonna have to watch from afar, yet again.

ning eventually gave up on convincing aeri to talk to you and went to go have well-deserved fun which meant finding minjeong and grinding on her just to piss her off. aeri, on her side of the room, was leaning on the wall and just kept staring at you, dramatically drowning in her own despair as she took small sips of her drink, sighing and biting her lip.

that’s when you two made unintentional eye contact, the both of you feeling awkward and quickly looking away, the ‘wanting to sneak a glance at someone but not knowing they were already looking at you in the first place’ cliche, if you will. that’s when aeri decided she needed to grow some balls! she exhaled sharply, taking one big gulp of her vodka, then gripped the cup in her hand for security.

she was gonna talk to you tonight, whether you liked it or not.

the next time you looked at her from across the room, she was already staring you down, which caused you to look back at her, trying your hardest to look intimidating, and also somewhat hot? you ran your hand through your hair, grabbed your drink from the table next to you and took a sip, holding very intense eye contact with her. the alcohol went down your throat, spiky, and you did your best in not grimacing. you were also hoping this wouldn’t start anything violent, considering that heejin went to go dance and kazuha was probably somewhere in the house, standing in a corner playing candy crush on her phone, so you were kinda powerless in this situation.

seeing you stare at her like this, all while swallowing some strong ass alcohol as if it was a regular tuesday for you turned her on way more than she’d like to admit. it infuriated her how pretty she found you in your ridiculous, bland, stupid, cute outfit. oh she was livid. she took one or two step towards you as she was practically guzzling down her drink, as if to challenge you.

oh it was on.

-

“heyy kazu, have you seen y/n? i can’t find her, she’s not upstairs nor is she in the basement.” heejin asked, leaning on the table. she wasn’t exactly worried about where you could’ve been, just weirded out. you’d usually stay in one place for a whole event then go home after a few hours.

kazuha, looked around, slightly tipsy, but still being able to articulate proper words, “uhhhhh no? last time i saw her she was downstairs chugging down booze. knowing her, she’s probably drunk as fuck right now.”

heejin furrowed her eyebrows hearing that whole sentence, “drunk?? what do you mean y/n’s drunk, she never gets drunk???”

-

you snatched the random vodka bottle that was conveniently next to you, ignoring the wasted frat boy whining and telling you to put it back, then you take a step of your own towards her. you very aggressively take off the lid of the bottle and chug it down, which you very quickly realized was a really bad decision. since you barely drank in your day to day life, you were already sorta drunk, so making out with the bottle and drinking all of its fluid was not helping. you felt your vision go blurry.

several, and i mean several minutes of taunting each other, getting voluntarily tipsy out of your minds and getting progressively closer to each other, you ended up face to face. her hooded eyes piercing through yours. her face slightly flushed from alcohol. her bottom lip swollen from the amount of times she bit into it while looking at you and oh my god her eyeliner looks really really really well done? you wished you could do it as good as he-

focus, y/n. this is war. confront her, ask her why she’s this much of an asshole all the time, why she’s been on your ass ever since you quote retweeted that definitely-not-pretty-at-all picture, why she totally has a big humongous lesbian crush on yo-

suddenly, you felt her lips on yours, hungrily kissing you, seemingly not giving a fuck about who sees. her hands roaming your body, gently tugging at your hoodie as she made out with you.

what the fuck?

what the fuck??

wow her lips felt nice?? you confusingly kissed her back, with just as much desperation. you couldn’t lie that the kiss was making you feel some sort of way, especially with the manner that her hands sneakily cupped your ass as you allowed her tongue to roam your mouth, quietly whimpering at the feeling. she wouldn’t hear it anyways, not only was she completely out of it, but the music was also too loud to even hear anything of the sorts.

she pulled away for a quick while, hazily smirked at you and gently grabbed your wrist, leading you into what seemed like… the bathroom? you really couldn’t tell, your vision was a blur. you quickly put the bottle somewhere on a counter close by before entering the restroom.

the only thing on your barely functioning mind at that moment was kissing aeri again.

-

“there you are. i’ve been looking for you for what felt like hours.” said minjeong, staring down at a red-eyed jimin, sitting on the couch holding a lit and rolled up joint whilst giggling.

“sorryyyy, i was exploring this one girl’s body right then some really hot guy joined in? shit was wild minjeongie you should’ve been the-“

“i don’t give a flying fuck about all of that yu jimin, we’re out of booze, fix it. quickly.” coldly ordered the shorter girl as she crossed her arms, making the taller one groan annoyingly.

“oh my goddd girl, i put a bottle on the table downstairs, just drink from that.” whined jimin, taking yet another puff of her almost finished joint.

“yeah, i was going to until y/n took the bottle. i have no fucking clue where she put it, so get up and go get more.”

-

there you were, leaning on one of jimin’s bathroom doors, hand on the knob to block anyone from entering. aeri was pinning you to it, her head in the crook of your neck, kissing and licking on it while her hands rest on your waist, fingers occasionally digging in.

your top was off, because according to her, “it needed to go”, which could mean multiple things ranging from sexy to just mean, but you were too drunk to even comprehend simple words, so you shrugged it off and just took off your hoodie for her, leaving you with only your bra.

with time, she went further down with her mouth, getting to your collarbone and placing hungry kisses there, then to your barely clothed boobs, where she did the same thing. you could feel her smiling stupidly against you as she kissed them, then she wrapped her arms around you, unhooking your bra.

she put her mouth on one of your nipples as soon as they were exposed, making you gasp at the sensation that was amplified by 10, thanks to the alcohol you consumed earlier. one of her hands now groping your other tit and playing with the bud. you felt her other hand tease your lower stomach, slowly sliding it down your sweatpants.

“fuck aeri..” you quietly moaned out, feeling her smirk against you yet again, gently rubbing her long fingers on your clothed and embarrassingly wet cunt. it angered you, how horny she got you.

she pulled away from your chest, looking at you cockily as she slightly tilted her head, “you’re so wet for me y/n, i thought you hated me?” she scoffed.

does she ever shut up?

you rolled your eyes, now annoyed, “god, you’re so fucking infuriating.. use your mouth for something good for once and just eat me out already. you’re the one who dragged me in here, so shut the fuck up and do something.” you saw how aeri’s smirk dropped a tad bit, oh how it amused you. she definitely wasn’t expecting you to be this.. demanding. it, very surprisingly, turned her on. a lot.

she was always the one doing the talking, she was always doing the ordering, now why were you always the one to make her discover things about herself, damn it?

you groaned at her. she was looking at you like some baffled dumbass. you grabbed her straightened long brown hair in a swift motion, earning an unexpected but very welcomed whine from her.

“did you not hear me? take my pants off and get on your fucking knees, i don’t have all night.” you sternly said, watching how her eyebrows furrowed, she really didn’t like the idea of you being in control of things and it showed. yet, she obeyed, like the good little bitch she was, she obeyed.

as soon as she pulled your pants and panties down, aeri got on her knees and looked up at you with glossy eyes, probably tearing up from the pain she felt on her scalp when you pulled on it. that poor girl, her expression a mix of anger, lust and fear of what you might do to her.

in response, you could only chuckle, seeing her this vulnerable looking, completely at your mercy, it did something to you. you never thought you’d enjoy this, especially due to the fact that you’re usually the submissive one in these types of situations, but it seems like the alcohol was doing the speaking for you.

“come on, get to work puppy.”

she kept eye contact, exhaled heavily as she closed her eyes a moment, giggled nervously as she mumbled a small ‘what the fuck am i doing.’ then, ended up going in.

her tongue gave small puppy licks to the entire surface of your slit, messily tasting the slick that was coated all over it, eventually teasing also your folds and entrance. you threw your head against the door you were leaning on, running your hand through her now not-so-straight hair, so intoxicated that you couldn’t control the noises that came out of you, you just kept calling out her name, you just kept muttering how much of a good bitch she was being for you, and she loved every second of it.

aeri, apparently was too, heavily intoxicated, because whenever she gave a suckle to your clit, or even when she inserted her tongue inside of you, she just couldn’t help but let out every noise that wanted to come out of her mouth. humming and moaning your name against your core, even digging her new nails into your hips and thighs.

“open your mouth baby.” you ordered, running your thumb across her wet bottom lip.

“m-mhm.” she moaned, looking up at you with teary eyes, her mascara running down her cheeks, her eyebrows upturned as she stuck out her numb tongue. you spat in her mouth, still rubbing her lip with your thumb. she didn’t even bother to question it, she just swallowed it like the stupid, desperate whore she is for you.

despite how exhausted you might’ve been, despite how blurry everything was to you at that moment, despite how confused you still were about everything, one thing you did know was that she was making you feel soooo good, you couldn’t stop using her pretty mouth, so much so that you planned on using it all night long.

-

“no seriously where the fuck is y/n?? i’m not leaving without her jimin.” yelled a very worried, very tipsy heejin, screaming at jimin while kazuha, the only one remotely sober at that moment, held her back from jumping the other girl.

“damn girl, relax.. your friend is probably somewhere upstairsss.. i’ll send her off tomorrow whenever she wakes up, okay? now please, leave.”

and just like that, the door was slammed shut on both of your best friends’ faces. they processed all of it, then had to call a cab to get them home safely.

while in the car, they were both praying you were okay, and that you were sleeping soundly somewhere in that house.

they thought of every possible scenario that could’ve happened to you,

but aeri tonguefucking you all night in the bathroom definitely was not one of them.

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[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 1 (MBJ x Black OC)

A/N: this started off as 3k andddddd it tripled before my eyes lol (sorry!) Enjoy!

Series Warnings: NSFW, Smut with a plot, Heavy BDSM, Dom/Sub storyline

Raven checked herself in the mirror outside Helen’s office. She knew Helen hated when they did not look presentable and perfect, even when they were just meeting with her. She prayed Helen would actually have a client for her tonight. After her abysmal first date, she needed an opportunity to redeem herself quickly. However, as she approached her office door to knock, her movements halted as raised voices filled her ears.

“This is unacceptable, Tash!” 

Raven cringed, Helen was terrifying on her good days but when she was mad, whew… she was a tornado and anyone unlucky enough to be in her path was screwed. And if she was angry at her best girl, Raven could not help but shake in her heels at what Helen would have in store for her.

“I can’t control a sick kid!” Raven heard Tasha respond, her exasperation clear in her voice. “My ex can’t take him. I don’t have much of a choice.” 

“Hold on. Come in, Raven. Stop gawking outside the damn door.” 

Raven glanced up in the corner at the camera that Helen positioned in the hallway and sighed. She should have known. She squared her shoulders and pushed in. 

“Hi, I just came to-“ 

“I know why you came,” the older woman waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t have a client for you tonight.” 

Raven’s whole body deflated with disappointment and stress. Another night and no dates. Her mind immediately went to her dwindling bank account. She could not survive many more weeks like this. She needed clients, steady ones, and fast. 

“Really? Nothing?” 

“Sorry.” Raven could tell Helen was not sorry and did not care one bit. The long timers like Tasha made her more than enough money that she did not truly need to concern herself with newbies that would likely crash and burn. And Raven knew they all expected her to do just that. But she needed to succeed, she did not have much of a choice. “It’ll pick up soon.” 

“Ok, t-thank you.” Defeated and frustrated, Raven simply turned to leave, resigned to spending the evening in her apartment when a hand grabbed her arm to stop her. 

“Wait! She can go in my place.” 

Helen’s laugh was visceral, signaling the absurdity of Tasha’s statement. “No. Absolutely not. He is one of your best customers therefore one of my best customers. I’m not a fucking idiot. Can’t send a girl who's never turned a trick before and has only been on one date to him.” 

Tasha shook her head. “Nahhh, she’s perfect. She’s his type, wide hips, a fat ass, small waist, pretty dark skin, and she has a naiveté, innocent factor he’ll eat up.” 

Raven merely stood there, getting whiplash from the onset of both compliments and insults being thrown at her as if she was not standing in the room. However, she knew she could not contribute to the conversation or lobby in either direction because she had no idea what either of them were talking about.

“Look, she’s green as fuck but he ain’t gonna want one of these snow bunnies or redbones you got runnin’ round. Look, the real is it’s her and you still make money tonight or you gotta cancel and you don’t make anything.” 

Though Raven did not know who they were talking about, she did know one thing. If he was on Tasha’s client list, he was one of the biggest fish Helen had reeled in. One night with him would not solve all her problems but it would lessen her stress. 

“I’ll do it!” She piped up immediately, her voice assured and confident as if she knew exactly what they were talking about. “I can do it. I need the money.” 

“Fine.” 

Internally, Raven could not help but cheer though she kept her excitement subdued. She knew this was not a credit to her or because Helen actually thought she would do a good job. The reality was, all she cared about was money so sending Raven would, at least, ensure the night was not a total waste. 

“But look here, you fuck this up, you’ll never get another client in this town again. Understand?” 

Raven nodded, “I won’t. I promise.” 

“Tasha, find her an outfit in the closet… something expensive so he knows she’s not a girl I pulled off the damn street. Maybe after tonight, you can afford a designer outfit or two.” 

Raven glanced down at her black body con dress. It wasn’t much, even she could admit that, nor was it new or designer like the other girls wore. But it showed off the right assets and looked good on her so she felt like that was enough.

“Thank you! You won’t regret it, seriously.” 

“Somehow I doubt that,” Helen muttered as Tasha dragged Raven out of the room. 

Raven could not wipe the giant grin off her face as Tasha led her to the closet where the girls could borrow clothes for dates. Her body practically bounced after Tasha’s as they walked. 

“Thank you so much. I owe you big time.”

Tasha waved her hand as she started rifling through the options. “Don’t mention it. Just give me 10% of what you make tonight and we’ll call it even.” 

“Deal.” Raven answered immediately, she had no idea how much she’d make or what 10% of it would be but she knew she would still have a hefty sum even after paying both Tasha and Helen their cuts. All part of the investment, she decided quietly. “So who's the client?”

“Size? Look like a 10 or a 12?” 

“Good eye. 10. The client?” She asked again. 

“Michael B. Jordan.” 

Raven’s heart dropped and her jaw nearly unhinged. “Wait wait wait. THE Michael B. Jordan?? Actor, director, Hollywood bad boy, Michael B. Jordan? ‘The MCU just created a whole phase around him in a six movie deal’ Michael B. Jordan? ‘Time’s Magazine just dubbed him our generation’s Denzel’ Michael B. Jordan? He’s the most sought after actor in the game right now.”

Tasha nodded, rolling her eyes at Raven’s fangirling. “Damn, sis. You know his whole IMDB? But yea, that Michael B Jordan. He’s a regular when he’s out here in LA. Tomorrow’s his birthday so his friends hired me for the night. Look, leave that starstruck shit at the door when you get there, he hates that shit. And he’s rough,” she added as a warning as she handed Raven a dress. 

“How rough?” She could feel desire pool at her core at the thought. She thought about all the times she and her exes would dabble in BDSM and control but none of them were ever willing to take it as far as Raven thought she wanted it. Now, maybe it was her shot to test it out. She had figured she would get a client who was into that anyway, seemed like the most popular kink among all the clients she heard about. Raven quickly slid out of her old outfit and into the new one.

“I hate coaching you new girls,” Tasha muttered under her breath as she checked her phone.  

Raven quickly corrected herself. “I-It’s not a problem! I promise. I like rough… I did some stuff with boyfriends and I actually really enjoy it so no problem. I’m just trying to figure out what to expect.”  

“He isn’t gonna actually hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about. He expects obedience and submission but he’ll respect your limit if it goes too far. But since he’s never been with you before, he’ll probably keep it vanilla. Most you can probably expect is him calling you names, maybe he’ll make you beg or spank you a couple times? He ties me up and shit and can get creative but this is a surprise so I doubt he’ll have time to plan anything all that interesting. Don’t expect any warmth… well don’t expect that from any nigga you go in dates with as a rule but I know he seems one way in interviews and shit so people think they know him. When the door closes, you’re there to play a part and serve him. That’s it. He wants control, give him that and you’ll be fine.” 

“Ok. Anything else I should know?” 

“Oh don’t call him by his name.” 

Raven’s nose wrinkled. “Ok what do I call him?” 

“You know, sir, daddy, whatever. Take your pick.”  

Raven nodded, she could tell Tasha was getting bored of her “coaching”. But she only had one last question.  

“Is it normal to be this nervous?” 

Tasha laughed. “The first time? Yea. I almost vomited the first time I went on a date. Once you get regulars, it’s not . You get to know them, they get to know you and it gets comfortable. They are paying you but you got more power and control than you’d think. But just keep your head about you. He acts like a bad boy but he’s cool people, not a bad guy for your first time. Trust me. Dress fits like a glove. You should keep it.” 

Raven turned in the mirror for a few minutes before offering Tasha a sad smile. She coveted so many pieces in the closet but Helen always insisted they be returned unless you wanted to purchase them from her. “I can’t afford it.”

“Helen won’t miss it. It's an old dress of mine I used to wear on early dates. It doesn’t even fit most of these skinny bitches.”

Raven glanced at her. “Why are you being so nice to me? Most of the girls are… awful,” she muttered the last part more to herself than to Tasha. “They wouldn’t have done a fraction of the shit you’ve done in the last 10 minutes.” 

Tasha merely shrugged. “Most of them see every girl who shows up here as competition. You’re pretty, have a nice body and all that. But no shade, you ain’t worth the energy to be mean. Besides, if I let you fail, I could fuck up my best customer. One date with Michael and I have my rent paid for months. Don’t get it twisted, I’m a bitch,” she assured her. “But I’m not a dumb bitch.” She glanced at the clock. “Aight, I gotta go. Nanny’s gonna be gone in a bit and my son is sick. Have fun and don’t mess this up cause you’ll be on your own with Helen if this shit goes left.” 

“Noted. Thanks… again.” 

Tasha chuckled. “I thought I said don’t mention it? You’re gonna have to become more of a bitch to survive around here, newbie. Cause this good girl shit? It’ll get you eaten alive.” 

Tasha gave her one last glance before leaving Raven alone with her thoughts. 

“Such inspiring words,” she mumbled to herself before she glanced at a notification on her phone. 

Dad: Car broke down. Gonna be $700 to get it fixed. Send that with the mortgage

No please, not even framed as a question. Her money was never her own, it was her family’s. And while they blew their own money on vices and frivolous shit, they always knew Raven would swoop in to foot the things that mattered. And so now, they did not even ask. They just presented their bills to the Raven ATM and she always found a way.   

Raven: I’m helping with the mortgage already… any chance you can cover that? 

Dad: Had to set aside money for Kiara’s school… she wants to go back to be a chef. It’s just $700. 

She rolled her eyes, she did not even have the cash from her date in hand yet and the money was already dwindling right before her eyes. She knew she could not say no, there was no point. 

Raven: Yea, I’ll get it to you later this week.

More motivation, she supposed, to make sure the night was flawless.

***

The club was filled with hazy smoke as Michael and his friends passed around a blunt in his section. The night was young and the drinks were flowing with no signs of slowing down. 

“Aye brah,” Steelo hit his arm softly to get his attention. “We got a surprise for you waiting at the St. Regis,” he held out the hotel room key. 

Michael whistled and dapped the man up. “My nigga!” He was appreciative. It was his first time back in LA since finishing up filming in Atlanta and he had missed burying himself in his favorite girl. He had tried to find temporary release while in Atlanta but no girl was like Tasha and that was a fact. 

Michael grabbed the card and slid it into his pocket. “Aight that’s my cue. Thanks for the birthday present. See y’all niggas tomorrow. Rest of the night’s on me!” 

He said goodbye to everyone before his security led him to his car. Despite the liquor and drugs coursing through his system, he had a clear enough head to envision what he would do to Tasha. That girl was truly up for anything and he loved every second of it. 

He put his phone on DND as he entered the hotel and went up to the room Steelo texted him. 

He did not make much noise as he entered the suite, expecting to find Tasha already naked and ready in the position he liked. Instead, he found a woman standing by the window. He studied her for a moment, in his confusion, taking in her reflection as she marveled at the penthouse suite view of downtown LA. He studied how her fingers barely touched the glass of the window as if that would give her a closer look. He could see her face in the reflection. She was beautiful, her big brown eyes filled with longing and wonder at the twinkling lights across the horizon. She was so taken by it that she did not even notice Michael until he cleared his throat. 

She turned around, Michael suddenly amending his earlier thought. She was not beautiful, that was an insulting understatement. She was painfully breathtaking. He had been in the presence of many beautiful women in his life but she surpassed them all. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I-I was j-just waiting and g-got caught up in the v-view. T-this is the perfect room, you can see the whole city. I-I’m Nicole.” She always went by her middle name with Helen and on her first date. Easy enough to remember to ensure she actually answered to it but kept her true identity to herself. 

“Where’s Tasha?” 

“Oh, umm she had an emergency. Helen wanted to make sure your birthday gift was still perfect so she sent me. I hope that’s… alright?” 

Michael watched as she chewed on her plump bottom lip, he wanted to pull it out of her teeth and bite it himself. He could also hear the nervousness and fear in her voice as if she was worried he would throw a fit about the change. And while no one compared to Tasha, he still could have a good time. Besides, they could not have picked a more perfect replacement. Her ass was delectable, his hand twitched with the urge to smack it. Her hip to waist ratio was mouth watering, he could only imagine how she would look with the deep arch he liked, how his fingers would dig into the meat of her hips as he fucked her from behind. Her breasts sat high, looking good enough to devour right then and there. It was not the girl he was expecting, true, but he would not dare complain. 

“All good. We can still have a good time together.” He noted how her entire body physically relaxed at his words, her shoulders coming down from her ears, her jaw relaxing, the tension in her tight limbs releasing.

They stared at each other for a moment before, awkwardness spreading across the room before she glanced down at herself. 

“S-sorry, I s-should probably take this off… or I can wait till you tell me? You were probably expecting me to already be… Tasha didn’t say what I should do when I arrived or how you liked… so… I’m talking a lot. Does it feel like I’m talking a lot to you? There’s probably not this much talking, is there? I’m gonna stop a-and let you talk a-and tell me how you want me.” she clamped her lips shut as she realized she was rambling. She wished she could smack herself in the forehead. This was already not going well. She did not know how she got up and performed in front of ogling men all through her college and her masters program. She had an altar ego when she danced on stage then but it seemed that vixen was nowhere to be found. And she desperately needed her again. She knew she would arrive once they actually got started. This was where her first date went off the rails, the lead up. There was a certain distance with men at the club… this lifestyle though, was the exact opposite and she did not expect how hard it would be for her. She just wanted to do the deed and go but being one of Helen’s girls required so much more. And all that pre-sex conversation and “bonding” with men she’d never talk to regularly was difficult for her. It didn’t come naturally like it did to other women. “Sir.” she added, remembering Tasha’s instructions. “Sorry.” 

Michael could not help but chuckle slightly. He could not explain why but he found her ranting and nervousness endearing. She was like a lamb trapped with a wolf, so sweet and earnest, not realizing that he was the complete opposite of both those things. It was far different from his first date with Tasha who knew exactly what to say and do. This girl seemed to not know either. But he found that charming, authentic. Other women were always playing a role. It seemed as though she showed up as her true self, beautiful, innocent, awkward and all. 

He wondered how long she’d been in the game. Couldn’t be that long,he reasoned, given how nervous she looked. However, she seemed eager to please, which was his favorite type of woman. If she was done for what he had planned, he knew he could still have fun with her. 

“You can stay like that for now. Tasha told you what I expect?” 

Raven nodded. “Yes, sir.” It sounded so odd on her tongue to call anyone sir in this day and age. However, she could not deny there was a certain arousing quality to it. 

Michael perched against the table across from the bed, gesturing for Raven to sit down on the edge of the bed across from him. “And what do I expect, Nicole?” 

“Obedience, sir.” Raven fidgeted with the hem of her dress as she watched him study her. She could feel him undressing her with his eyes. Usually, she did not wilt under the ogling stares of men. Seven years working as a stripper got her over that hang up really quick. However, something about Michael’s stare was unnerving. Not in a creepy way but in an intense one, as if he was trying to learn everything he could about her by simply staring. 

“You nervous?” 

“No.” 

“Clearly Tasha ain’t tell you everything cause one thing I don’t allow is lying. 10 spankings. Lie again and I’ll triple it.” 

Her eyes fell down to his arms, taking in the taut muscles straining against his t-shirt. She wondered how heavy handed his slaps would be. Her panties were growing damp the longer she spoke to him. She could not remember the last time a man elicited this sort of reaction from her body.

“Yes.” 

He raised an eyebrow, Raven immediately correcting her mistake. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl,” Raven immediately felt her body warm at the term, she could not hide the small but distinct smile that formed. She liked hearing it on his lips. “And don’t be. It’ll be a fun night for us both. I don’t know your limits and all that shit so I’ll take it easy. Tash and I got a safe word. We can use one for the night if that would make you more comfortable?” 

Raven smiled, grateful that he was even taking that into account. “Yea, that would be great.”

“You pick.” 

“Ummm… Wakanda?” she blurted out, the first word that came to mind as she looked at him. She immediately hit herself in the head, cringing at herself. “I’m sorry, that’s so embarrassing… I’m a Marvel n-nerd and it’s just the first word that popped into my head.” 

Michael tried to hold his laughter in but could not. His laughter filled the room, causing Raven to feel slightly less embarrassed. “That is definitely a first but if that’s what you want then deal. You used a safe word before?” 

Raven shook her head. 

“When you want or need me to stop, something’s too painful or going too far, you say it and everything ends for the night. Understand?” 

She nodded again. 

“When I ask you a question, I also expect you to use your words.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good, now that we got that shit outta the way… we can have some fun.” He folded his arms and stared at her. “Lose the dress.” 

Raven took a deep breath and stood up, her arms stretching behind her back to find the zipper of the dress. Before she knew it, the soft fabric was pooled at her feet. She smirked at how his eyes darkened with lust, how his knuckles gripped the edge of the table as if to control his own urges. Slowly but surely, the nerves in her body started to dissipate as lust replaced them. She started to repeat the motion to remove her bra but his voice stopped her. 

“Did I tell you to take that off too? 5 more.” Raven could not help the way her own eyes flashed with excitement at the thought of punishment, a fact Michael was all too keen to point out. “Oh I see… you want it… want me to spank that fat ass until it’s covered in my handprints?” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” And she did, she wanted his hands on her body as soon as possible.

“Leave everything else on and crawl to me.” 

Her voice hitched. She had never crawled to anyone. She had seen it in porn, men leading women around in leashes, treating them as pets. And while she knew she should have found it degrading and humiliating, it had only turned her on. She could never convince her past boyfriends to take it that far, the most they were willing to do was spank her or call her names. But Michael was clearly a natural at this and knew exactly what he wanted. And she was more than happy to oblige. 

She sank down to her hands and knees, the carpet roughly poking into her skin. She ignored it though as she kept her eyes trained on his, each step closer increasing the ache between her thighs. She could not remember the last time she had been this wet without anyone laying a finger on her. But it was him… his aura, his commanding being, the possessive look in his eyes that let her know she was his, even if it was only for the night. She so desperately wanted to please him and she found that, in her heart, it was not because it was her job. But because she genuinely wanted to hear him praise her. 

By the time she reached him, the march across the room feeling longer than it actually was, every pleasure sensor in her body screamed and begged to be touched, caressed, kissed, or bitten. Whatever he wanted to do, she did not care. 

She sat back on her heels, an innocent doe eyed look on her face as she stared up at him, waiting. Michael could have cum right then and there, the picture of submission beneath him and it was their first time together. 

And only time, he reminded himself. For some reason, that thought burned uncomfortably in his mind, so much so that he pushed it out just as quickly. 

“Good girl,” he liked how her whole being seemed to beam at his compliment. His hand went to her hair, wrapping his fist around her long kinky curls. 

He held tight as he unbuttoned his pants and his dick sprung into her face. Her eyes grew as she took in his size and girth, he certainly had a package to be proud of. And she yearned for a taste of him, salivating for it. She willed him to shove it down her throat. And she did not have to wait long as his head poked at her lips to part them. Her tongue flicked his head gently. He let her control it for a few minutes, the young woman opting to tease him with soft licks up his shaft that made him moan softly. 

“You’re gonna pay for that later,” he moaned as she continued working him, teasing his dick with her mouth. She spat on him, using her hand to get him as sloppy as possible. 

She looked up and winked at him. “You want me to stop, sir?” 

This girl is gonna be the death of me, he decided right then and there. Submissive but a brat… and she was a natural at it.  

“Nah you ain’t stoppin’ anytime soon.” He unceremoniously pushed into her mouth, this time pushing as deeply as he could, hitting the back of her throat. She gagged immediately, choking and spluttering as her eyes filled with tears. “Want me to stop?” 

She shook her head immediately, her eyes still showed her eagerness. 

And he did not stop again. She moaned around him, sending tiny vibrations through him that drove him wild. He did not give her a chance to breathe or catch her breath as he fucked her mouth like it was a mere convenient hole. And he could tell she loved every second of it as he watched one of her hands drift from his thigh to between her own. He immediately stopped, using her hair to yank her head back. 

Layers of spit kept her mouth connected to his dick. “You don’t touch yourself without asking, understand? That pussy’s mine. Such a desperate and pathetic little slut, already trying to cum.” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

As much as Michael had wanted to bust down her throat, he was ready to bury himself inside her sweet pussy. But first, he needed a taste. And before she could receive any pleasure, she had to be punished. 

“Crawl to the bed and bend over the edge. Ass in the air.” 

Her heart sagged as she realized he was not going to let her continue tasting him. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your taste again,” he winked at her. “Bed. Now. Make me wait another second and I’ll add another 10.” 

Raven knew his words should have had her hauling ass to the bed, however, she opted to take her sweet time. He liked submission, that was true. But it was clear he also liked a little pushback that allowed him to prove his dominance, reestablish his control. And that was one role Raven had always wanted to play. She took her time crawling back, putting an extra sway in her hips to show him her thick ass. She also knew that he could likely see the glistening of the mess between her thighs as she moved. She could feel the intensity of his stare on her as if he were burning a hole in her head. 

“Oh baby girl… the things I’m gonna do to you,” he whispered, his voice tickling her ears. 

The journey back to the bed was longer, Michael allowing her to continue her show. Finally, she picked herself up and assumed the position he demanded. 

She waited with bated breath, no movement in the room but she could still feel his eyes on her. 

“I hope you enjoyed that,” he offered as she finally felt him move toward her, her pussy clenching in anticipation. “Cause you’re gonna pay for it in a minute.” 

She braced herself for the onslaught of pain and pleasure but it never came. Instead, she felt a gentle touch, his hands gripping her ass. Lower and lower they went until one was hovering right above her pussy. She did not understand how he was so close and yet was not touching her.  

“P-Please,” she whimpered, desperate for any type of contact. 

“Please what? Want me to make you cum like the filthy slut you are?” 

“Y-yes, p-please… I-I’ll d-do anything,” her voice was filled with her desperation. She needed him like her body needed air to breathe. 

“I don’t think you deserve to cum,” he shot back. “Acting like a fuckin’ whore for a man you don’t even know. I bet I could touch you once and you’d cum… so horny, so desperate for me. Just like I knew you would be. Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

She knew the answer she had to give. “N-No, sir.” 

“Why?” 

“B-because I’ve b-been a bad girl.” 

“Yes, you have. And bad girls get punished, don’t they?” 

She nodded, her fingers getting tangled up in the comforter on the bed. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl. Tonight, you don’t cum without permission. This pussy and all your pleasure is mine to give and take away. When you’re ready, beg. Count ‘em out or I'll start over.” 

She cried out as he ripped her lace thong right off her body, the fabric snapping against her. He quickly followed it up with a swat to her ass that made her moan. 

“One.” 

She steadied her breathing and counted through each one. It got harder and harder to maintain the count, as he would stop at random intervals to touch her. The first time, two fingers slid into her drenched core, curling into her g-spot with every stroke. He slowly finger fucked her and rubbed her clit, her punishment almost completely forgotten as she surrendered to the bliss of his hands. She could feel her own orgasm building, her pussy clenching around his finger. However, he did not even give her a chance to beg before he stopped. He resumed spanking her, Raven almost losing count in the haze of the pain and pleasure he provided. 

“13.” 

“Are you gonna be a good slut for me? Or do I need to add more?” he asked gruffly in her ear as he put more force in each hit. 

Still sporting the strength and weight of Erik Killmonger, his athleticism, strength, and power showed through every single slap. 

“15… y-yessss… I p-promise, I-I’ll b-be good. Six… sixteen…” 

“You’ll be a good what? Say it!” he ordered as his hand rained down on her ass. She knew she would be bruised tomorrow but she could care less.

“20… I-I’ll b-be a good s-slut. A g-good whore. F-fuck me, p-please!” She begged. Her words were strangled, like a dying woman begging for life. He had her right where he wanted her, she knew that much. And she loved it. Loved every second of surrendering to him and accepting whatever he chose to give: pain, pleasure, humiliation. She did not care, she wanted every single thing and more. 

He stopped, resuming his teasing. This time, he spread her legs and ate her out from the back, his tongue doing the work of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit on her clit. 

She panted as she felt her orgasm build. She remembered his instructions and immediately started to beg. 

“P-Please let me c-cum. F-fuck… f-feels so good. Daddy… please!” She had not intended to call him daddy at any point in the night. She always hated the way it sounded and felt. However, it slipped out and she did not hate it so much on him, and neither did he. 

“Cum for daddy, baby,” he whispered, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he fucked her hard and fast. 

She buried her face in the comforter as the most powerful orgasm of her life ripped through her. So powerful, she felt tears streaming down her face, destroying her perfectly done makeup. Her thanks and appreciation for allowing her to cum was incoherent as his fingers continued to pump in and out of her.

While she calmed down, he took a moment to slide a condom on before lining himself with her wet entrance. He used his head to tease her, her entire body jolting with pleasure as he tapped it against her clit. 

“What do you want, baby?” 

Unflinching, she pushed herself to her forearms and glanced over her shoulder. “F-fuck me. Fuck me like a whore.” 

Without a second thought, he slammed his dick into her, Raven letting out a scream of pleasure that made him thankful the rooms around him were empty. His steady, powerful strokes sent her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She had never been fucked like this before, hard and rough. She had never expected pleasure quite like this when she entered the hotel room but she would thank God for it. 

The only sounds were her consistent moans and screams as Michael fucked her viciously, his hips slamming into her hips with every thrust. She used her forearms to meet every thrust, which only turned Michael on even more. She lost track of the amount of times she begged him to cum. He only did not allow her once, savoring the sounds of her pleas as she tried to hold it in. And when she couldn’t, he did not skip a beat in flipping her over and punishing her, this time with his belt, which almost made her cum on the spot again. 

He moved her around the room, fucking her on any surface he deemed strong enough to hold her weight. 

“You like how I’m fuckin’ this pussy?? You gon’ cum again, you fuckin’ whore?” 

Her knuckles were white as she gripped the table he fucked her on. Both of her legs were draped over his shoulders, allowing him to reach regions Raven did not even know were possible. She could barely think since he put her in this particular position, let alone formulate a sentence to respond. 

He hand one hand cradling her neck and head while the other held onto her back, using both as leverage to fuck her. He moved the one on her back to bring down a harsh smack to her outer thigh. 

She gasped. “Y-Yes, yes, yes! P-Please let me c-cum! D-daddy, p-please, please, please.” 

“Cum on this dick, baby. That’s it.” he continued fucking her through her orgasm, Raven left feeling as though she could not withstand much else. As she felt yet another orgasm start to build causing her to shy away from him. “Nah don’t run from me. You wanted it. Acting like a fuckin’ brat. Take this dick!” 

“It-It’s too… fuck! J-Just like that… It’s… t-too much,” she panted out, her words choppy as she still tried to run from him despite his instructions. Her body did not know if she wanted him to stop or continue, to go faster or slower. That is until she let go of the table, all of her weight naturally leaning to one side as her arm gave out beneath her.  

“FUCK,” she cried out as she felt the table slowly tip over. Because Michael was also bracing his weight on it to fuck her, they both toppled to the ground. She groaned, her eyes blurring as her head hit the corner of the tv stand next to them before she fell down to the ground. Her hand clutched the side of her head, now understanding what the phrase seeing stars meant. 

She clenched her eyes shut as she tried to give herself a minute for the pounding in her head to stop. She let out a breathy chuckle, in pain but finding the injury rather hilarious as she felt Michael try to untangle their limbs. Soon, his deep baritone joined in, their laughter filling the room as they laid on the floor. 

“You… alright?” she asked when they both settled down, her hand still pressing into her head. 

“Yea, fell on my arm but it’s not that bad. You good?” 

She nodded. “Y-Yea, just banged my head on the tv thing.” 

“Let me help you up.” 

Michael held out his hand, Raven giving him her free one to pull her to her feet. However, at the fast movement, she immediately felt lightheaded. Her naked body sagged into his as everything started to fade in and out. 

“Oh shit, you’re bleeding,” he muttered, lifting her head up to examine her, his arm immediately going around her waist to hold her up. “Can you stand?” 

“Barely,” she muttered. Her head felt so heavy, all she wanted to do was collapse back down to the ground. 

“Aye aye, ma. Keep your eyes open for me, aight?” He guided her over to the bed and sat her down before running into the bathroom to grab a bathrobe and a towel. He wrapped her in the robe to make sure she was covered before calling an ambulance and calling down to his security to alert them of the situation. 

He figured an ambulance was slight overkill as she likely just had a concussion but he did not want to take any chances. He worried he pushed her too far too fast. He immediately felt guilty. If he had not been fucking her so rough, she would not be half unconscious next to him. He had just gotten completely lost in her. 

He quickly pulled on his own clothes so he could be ready when the EMTs arrived. He grabbed a towel and swatted away her hand to press it into the wound. It did not look that deep but the sight of her face covered in blood was still jarring for him. Her bloody hand rested on his arm as she tried to continue sitting up. Her eyes started to flutter closed, Michael using his grip on her shoulder to keep her upright.

“Eyes open.” She still responded to his commands. “Good girl, that’s it. Keep your eyes on me. Tell me about your tattoo.” It was the first thing he could think of, referencing the ink on her forearm. 

Even through the pain, she managed to give him a funny look. “You fucked me so h-hard, I-I might h-have a c-concussion a-and you c-care about my tattoo?” 

“Gotta keep you awake somehow, baby girl. Tell me.” 

The tattoo, one of a small bird cage, three small birds flying out of the open doors. The word freedom was written beneath it. 

“M-Maya… Angelou… h-her memoir, I Know Why The Caged Bird… Sings. F-first book I r-remember relating t-to… the i-idea that literature and s-storytelling c-could save y-you. She m-made me w-want to be a w-writer.” 

“You’re a writer?” 

Even in her pain, he could see her body sag slightly, sadness rippling across her face. “Yea…w-was anyway,” she mumbled. 

“What kind of books do you write?” 

However, Michael would never get the answer to that question, at least not that night. The edges of her vision were starting to blur and grow black. Her eyes lulled closed and this time, not even the sweet sounds of his voice and commands could force her to open them back up. 

***

Raven groaned as she woke up in a bed, the beeping of the machines around her filling her ears. She shifted uncomfortably as all of the sensors in her body started to wake up and she began to register everything. The pounding in her skull was overwhelming but her whole body ached. She knew it was likely a combination of Michael’s pension for acrobatics, an ache she’d gladly sign up for again and again, and the fall. Slowly the events that landed her in the hospital came back to her. 

The fall. How embarrassing. She knew she’d never live this one down when it made its way back to Helen and the other women. Falling and ending up in the hospital after her second date overall and first one with one of their biggest clients. She was screwed. 

“Welcome back.” 

She glanced to the side, shocked to find Michael sipping a coffee and sitting in the chair by her window. She was equally shocked to find that it was already light outside. 

How long was I out for? She thought to herself. 

As if he could read her mind and questions, Michael chuckled. “About five hours… longest five hours of my life,” he added under his breath. “How’s your head?” 

“Better than my pride. W-what are you still doing here?” She could not keep the shocked tone out of her voice. It was not that she did not appreciate him sticking around, she just would have never expected it given how Tasha described him. 

“Wanted to make sure you were good,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I didn’t want you to wake up in the hospital alone.” 

Her heart fluttered, even though she knew it shouldn’t. He was a client, and as soon as he assured she was alive and likely not going to sue him or something, he would be on his way and forget all about her. That was the gig. 

“Oh um… that’s really sweet. T-thank you. And thank you for bringing me here.” 

“It was my fault so it seems only right.” 

“Eh, I think we both shoulder some of the blame there. Not sure why we thought that rickety table could hold both of our weight. Blinded by passion, I suppose,” she mused. “It was fun though,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Sorry… for ruining your birthday gift. I k-know I wasn’t the girl you wanted or how it should’ve ended. I feel bad,” she admitted. 

 Michael studied her for a moment, unsure of how to respond to any of that. Sure, she was not the girl he had expected to find in his room. However, he was happy about that. The night had exceeded every expectation he had, until the very end of course. She was a breath of fresh air, a new challenger who had been up for everything he threw at her. And something about her… he just found himself drawn to it. Which is why he was still sitting here in the hospital five hours later instead of leaving. It was not just the great sex or her beauty, it was her. She was sweet and awkward but had fire and could go toe to toe with him when she wanted. He liked that, the challenge she presented. And while he knew she was only supposed to replace Tasha for that one night, the entire time he was buried inside her, all he craved was more of her. And that feeling had not subsided, even as she laid in a hospital bed. 

He shook his head. “I always believe shit goes exactly as it’s supposed to. And don’t sweat it. I had an amazing time last night. You were somethin’ else.” 

He watched as a small smile bloomed on her face. 

“No Tasha, I know,” she admitted, biting her lip. Once again, he resisted the urge to rip it out. A picture of her lips wrapped around his dick flashed in his head. He knew it was inappropriate to lust after her while she laid in the bed. But he could not help it. Having her was like the first hit of a drug, he needed another fix. “But I’m glad it was still fun for you. I had a good time too.” 

Michael closed the distance between them, one hand going to brace on the railing of her bed while the other held his weight as he leaned over her. 

“Don’t compare yourself to Tasha or any other girl out here. You’re one of a kind.” His voice was low, he usually reserved this voice for behind closed doors. It was commanding and authoritative and he could tell she loved it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her legs tighten together, the lust clouding her eyes, the way her lips parted to let out a shakily breath. “Understand?” 

She nodded, gulping. 

“Words.” 

“Y-Yes, I u-understand.”

But she did not understand. Did not understand why he was still there, why he seemed to care about her, even if it was just to sit in a hospital when she knew he had better things to be doing, or why he at all cared whether she compared herself to anyone. She did not understand him. She had expected what Tasha warned her about… that she would just be there to service, a mere body for him to use as he pleased for the night. That did not bother her, she was there to do a job. However, he seemed to be more than that. You don’t spend all night in a hospital for just a body, right? You don’t care about the low self esteem or self deprecating comments of just a body? And you don’t look at just a body how he was looking at her right now… with such an intense craving and yearning that all Raven wanted to do was to let the ground swallow her whole. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. His hand cradled her face as he took in the bloodied bandage on her forehead. He tilted her head up studying it, his thumb gently caressing her big tresses of kinky hair. 

However, their moment, whatever it was, ended as quickly as it started as Raven’s phone rang loudly next to her. Michael seemed to realize his mistake and looked almost startled, as if he did not know how he ended up so close to her. He took several steps back as Raven grabbed her cell phone from the table. 

She groaned as she realized it was her dad. Michael turned to stare out the window, giving her a bit of privacy as she answered the call. 

“Hey, what do you need?” She knew he was calling because he needed something. None of them ever called to see about her. 

“Hey Rae… could you send whatever money you can today?” 

Raven’s face twisted up in confusion. “Today?? The mortgage isn’t due till the end of the month.” She glanced at Michael who seemed preoccupied in his phone before lowering her voice. “I-I can’t just pull money out of nowhere. Why do you even need it?” 

He sighed. “Kiara got arrested.” 

“Arrested?? For what??” 

“Yea, she got into a fight with her new boyfriend at a bar and they hauled them both off to County. Gotta post bail for both of them by tomorrow afternoon. Or she’ll have to sit there until Monday.”

Raven felt the ache in her head grow but this had nothing to do with the concussion. She would never understand how she was the ugly duckling of the family, the forgotten and unwanted second daughter when Kiara, the prodigal perfect daughter, could barely hold down a job or stay out of trouble for more than a week. Well, that was not true. She completely understood… it did not make it easier to stomach or deal with though. 

“How much?” 

“$10k for them both.” 

“Ten thousand US American dollars??” she cried out loudly, her shock getting the better of her. At that, Michael’s movements did still for a moment, he had been trying not to listen but her outburst made it rather difficult. “I c-can’t come up with that type of money today. Not just because it’s impossible but I’m in the hospital.” 

She heard her dad sigh. “Your sister can’t sit in jail all weekend, she’ll be hurt in there. I’m pulling some money out of savings but it isn’t enough.” 

Raven shook her head. “I’m doing just fine by the way, thanks for asking or caring,” she shot back. Michael could not help but glance over his shoulder at that, taking in the hurt and disappointed tone in her voice that she masked with snark. 

He felt the uncomfortable sting of rage at the despondent look on her face. He wanted to snatch the phone out of her hand and hang up on whoever it was. 

“I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. But are you gonna send me the money or not? I don’t have time for this. Your sister is rotting in jail right now, only God knows what could be happening to her, and you wanna have an attitude? We are the only family you have. The least you could do is make sure we’re ok while you live it up in LA. I need $6,000.” 

She clenched her eyes shut. She knew that meant handing over her entire cut after she paid Helen and Tasha and then the last bit of savings she had left. But she also knew she could not say no. “Fine. I’ll figure it out and send you the money by tomorrow.” 

“Oh it’s her calling from the jail. I gotta go. Text me when you send it. Bye.” 

She pulled the phone from her ear and shook her head. “You’re welcome,” she muttered to herself. She leaned back in her pillows and forced her eyes to the ceiling to stop the tears that brimmed in her eyes from falling. She did not know why her family’s treatment still got to her, 30 years later. Tasha was right… She needed thicker skin in all areas of her life. 

“You good?” 

She pressed her hands into her cheeks as a couple tears fell. She felt a wave of embarrassment as she remembered Michael was in the room. As if her interaction with him could not get any worse. They went from mind blowing sex to a hospital room and brain injuries to tears. 

You really ruin everything for everyone, she thought to herself. 

“Yea, yea. Just dumb family stuff.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing.” 

“I thought I told you I didn’t like lies.” 

Raven eyed him for a moment. Part of her would love to talk to someone about her family drama, unload all the pent up feelings she pushed deep down into her soul. However, she knew she could not do it with him of all people. So instead of the vulnerability and honestly he demanded, she instead offered him a cheeky smile. 

“The Nicole that responds to your demands costs $5k a night. And as you heard on the phone, I could most certainly use it,” she added with a wink. 

“Nicole?” The doctor came in just as Michael was about to open his mouth to respond. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I got hit in the head.” She glanced at Michael with an expression that read what kinda stupid question is that? He merely snickered.   

“Makes sense. Well you have a very mild concussion. You’ll need to rest for at least the next 7 days… avoid a lot of screens and movement and anything that requires a lot of mental power. It was very mild though so you should be back on your feet soon. You’re free to go.” 

“Thank you,” she muttered. A week in bed meant a week of no work. And all the money she had to show for this disastrous night was gone. However, she had no time to really wallow in any of that. One thing Raven always did was figure it out. 

She slid out of bed, immediately swaying slightly causing Michael to rush to her side. He was quick on his feet, all that boxing training went to good use. He caught her before she crumbled fully, guiding her back to the bed. 

“Gotta move a lot slower than you’d think with a concussion, especially the first few days. You sure you’re gonna be good on your own?” he asked as he stared down at her. 

She chuckled, the sound void of any true humor. “Yea I’ll be fine. Always am. Thanks for the assist. C-could you hand me my dress?” 

Michael grabbed her clothes from the table in the corner. He watched her as she slid it back on, her movements far more measured and slow as she heeded his advice. She looked far more weary and exhausted than she did when she first woke up, as if that phone call and whoever was on the other line had aged her considerably. 

Once she was fully dressed and finished her discharge paperwork, she settled onto the bed to slide into her hospital slippers. Not the best shoes to wear home but they beat the uncomfortable heels she could barely walk in on a good day. 

“Thanks again… for waiting with me. You really didn’t have to.” She glanced down at her phone as she waited for him to respond, absentmindedly opening the Uber app so she could get a ride home. 

“What are you doing?” 

Her face twisted up in confusion. “Calling an uber?” 

“You shouldn’t uber home like this. I’ll drop you off.” 

Raven instinctively shook her head, the action causing a spot of pain that forced her to stop. “I-I can’t let you do that. You’ve done more than enough. Seriously.” 

“I wasn’t askin’. Ain’t about to let you uber home. If you don’t want me to know where you live, my driver can take you and he’ll come get me after.” 

Raven’s heart warmed at the thought. She did not like the idea of a client knowing where she laid her head every night. That seemed to be one of the few rules all the girls lived by. However, she trusted him. For some reason. 

“No, no, it’s not a problem. T-thank you.” 

Before she knew it, he and his security were hustling her out of a back entrance the hospital used for high profile guests and into a SUV with tinted windows. The car ride was virtually silent, Raven not knowing what to say or do around him. A night in a hospital meant they had a rapport. But he was still a client and this was the longest and most intimate interaction she had ever had with one. And everything since 3 am last night seemed like it was authentically from the kindness of his heart. She had promised him nothing in return for such kindness and he did not ask for anything. She wondered if he assumed and she just missed the cue? 

However, as they pulled up outside of her apartment building in her neighborhood, she glanced at him expectantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But nothing came. 

Instead, he merely said, “You sure you’re gonna be ok alone?” She could tell his eyes were searching the neighborhood, taking in the less than safe area she lived in. 

She nodded. “I, umm, have a roommate. So not fully alone. She’ll be home from work later tonight so I’ll be good. Thank you. A-and sorry again… for ruining your special day. At least, you got a good story for your friends and Tasha next time?” she chuckled. “I’m sure she’ll never let me live it down. Anyway… thanks again for everything a-and it was great to meet you.” 

She knew this was goodbye for good. Their one night together was just that, one night before he went back to being Tasha’s best client. She was the replacement, not the one they came back to for more. 

Though she did not fully know why, she reached over and grabbed his hand that rested between them and squeezed, “You were a hell of a first date,” she winked at him.  

Michael found the part of him he hated most did not want to say goodbye to her yet either. The part he kept caged and usually ignored had full control over him today. It was as if she had pressed all the right buttons to release that specific beast and did not even realize what she had done. Now, the beast roamed free and he found it difficult to herd it and the feelings it created back into their cages. 

He did not want to feel what Nicole made him feel… he did not want to care about whether her neighborhood was safe for her; he did not want to know who she was talking to so he could strangle them for causing that look in her eye; he did not want to know anything else about her like why she said she was a writer in the past tense, what she had written or what she turned to reading and writing to be saved from; and he did not want to feel the urge to reach in his pocket and write her a check for another $5,000 to solve whatever her problems were if it meant she would not look as she had in the hospital ever again. And most of all, he did not want to yearn for all those answers like he needed air. The man who would’ve done all those things, who would have already yielded to those feelings was gone. He needed to remember that. 

“Great meeting you too, Nicole” he offered shortly.  

Raven paused as she jumped out of the SUV, turning back to him. “It’s Raven, actually.”

At his raised eyebrow, she clarified, “My real name. You said you don’t like lies, remember?” Her smile was sweet and innocent. 

“I thought that was gonna cost me another $5k?” 

She smiled playfully, a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there since she woke up. “Spending your birthday in a hospital with a girl you didn’t even know means you earned my real name for free. And where I live… don’t turn out to be a stalker creep though,” she joked. “Cause that would suck.”

He laughed. “No stalking… got it. Thanks for the two birthday gifts then, Raven.” 

She offered him one final smile and wave before she closed the door and walked into her building. 

As he drove away, he was thankful to never see her again. He would return to the comfortability of Tasha who played her role and sparked no other feelings in him but carnal lust. That was all he had room for. All those other feelings Raven elicited would fade and the beast would be locked up once again.

As Raven laid in bed, trying to force herself to rest, she could not help but think a similar refrain. She could not get him out of her head. The duality of the way he fucked her with the care and kindness he showed her after. The genuine concern he seemed to have for her. She wanted more of that, more of him. She wondered what it felt like for him to make love to a woman, and wondered how it would feel to hear him call out her real name. Wondered how it would feel to be held by him… how he took care of her, even if it was only briefly. She thought about how it must feel to be loved by him, the intensity of it must have been intoxicating. She thought back to the night before, flashes of it coming to her. If she focused, she could still feel where his hands were, like fire against her skin. 

However, she knew those fantasies were dangerous and a fool’s errand. She could not fall head over heels for her first real date. That was not the job. And maybe she would find a client of her own like him one day, but she knew she would not last long if she pinned over every man who was nice to her. She thought she had let go of her hopeless romantic phase long ago but it still resurfaced every once in a while. But Tasha was right, she would not survive in their world long wearing her heart on her sleeve. And she needed to survive, her family needed her to survive. So, she would never see the Michael B. Jordan again and she, too, was thankful. Because then she would forget about him and move on.  

She sighed as she settled into bed. Despite ending up in the ER, the night had been a success. Michael had been pleased, which was all that mattered and hopefully he relayed that to Helen. And that meant more clients, more opportunities to make money and get her life, at least financially, back on track. That’s all she needed and wanted to focus on. Anything else, fantasies of a man she could never have again, were foolish and best left for the characters she wrote in her free time. 

Sleep eluded both Michael and Raven that night as they were plagued with fantasies of each other, the person they both knew was foolish to want because they knew they could not have them. 

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii

A/N: I'm both really excited and nervous about this series so I hoped y'all enjoyed chapter 1! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

[hillbillyoracle]

Fuck Goals, Fuck Vision Boards

Task Management for Planning Averse

AKA Even People with Zero Direction in Life Deserve Nice Things

So if you don’t already follow Dana K. White on YouTube, you should. She’s the author of the blog A Slob Comes Clean and several books. What I’m going to talk about below is heavily inspired by her work which is why I wanted to cite her upfront but also seriously go check her videos out if you’re trying to declutter and get organized. 

Right now I’m mostly using her videos and it’s genuinely the only decluttering method that has ever worked for me. And one of the reasons it works for me where others haven’t is that it is a system that doesn’t rely on feelings or valuation. 

I realized that as I’ve gotten better at task management in my life - though lord knows the move has made that more complicated - I realized that not using feelings or judgement based questions is what really helped me. I also realized that I had 100% completely given up on goals. I had neglected to set goals for a couple years now and weirdly I got more productive, not less. What gives? 

Step 0: Give Up on Goals and the Fantasy Self

What I realized is that goals were really just a product of what a lot of decluttering folks call my “fantasy self”. My fantasy self woke up at 5am and did little work out videos but trying to leap to become that fantasy self fucking sucked. It was not enjoyable once the novelty wore off and it largely didn’t present enough benefit to justify doing it. 

Which meant I would stop and then I would feel bad about myself and I’d pick up bad habits to cope with the feeling and then I was worse off than before. 

So when I stopped setting goals, I stopped declining at least because there wasn’t that rebound effect where I self soothed using way too much ice cream and binge watching whatever I could find. I hit a baseline that wasn’t amazing but the stability was helpful. Only when I gave up on the fantasy life did my actual life get better.

Capitalism loves the fantasy self. People spend so much money to try to become their fantasy self and often don’t even benefit that much from it. Then the guilt of seeing that stuff around can lead folks to by more stuff to cope with the guilt. The only people winning are the companies who you buy from. 

Also, folks with executive dysfunction have a very hard time picturing what done looks like. So trying to picture your “ideal day” is low key a nightmare experience for someone like me. Mission Statements can be real intimidating when you’re not totally sure what those words will mean for the decisions you make. Vision boards...I’m sorry I know some folks love them but I really do not enjoy them. They’re a sensory overload of an experience to me from the crafting to taking them in. I’ve never made a vision board that really did much for me. 

I’ve also recently learned about The Four Tendencies by Gretchen Rubin and I am definitely a Rebel. So too much pressure internal or external and I will find the quickest exit possible. Rebels are a small but sizeable portion of folks according to the authors research. Which means there are likely other people out there who also find goals to be way too much fucking pressure. 

This is all to say - fuck goals. But you’ve still got a life to live so how do you move the needle in the positive direction? 

Step 1: Initial Brain Dump

People would always tell me to brain dump but never really explained how. They were like “Yeah just get all this stuff in your head out on paper” and I’m like...I don’t even know what’s in my head unless I go looking for it. 

So I offer you two questions and two methods of gathering answers. 

When trying to brain dump, ask yourself: 

What do I spend a lot of time thinking about? 

What are the specific tasks associated with these subjects? 

If you can’t think of next specific tasks associated with those subjects, it does necessarily mean you need to strike it off you list, it’ll just be a little tougher to know where it fits. 

Sometimes I’m able to sit down and answer these questions all in one go. And sometimes it’s much easier to keep a running list in my phone and when I realize I’ve been thinking a lot about something I add it to the list. Then later I can sit down and come up with specific tasks or process it in step 2. 

Step 2: Task Punnett 

In step 2 I look at my list and ask myself two questions:

Do I already spend time doing this? 

Will I face a negative result if I don’t do this? 

This gives four categories a list item can be sorted into. 

Yes/Yes

The goal here is to prevent burnout so you don’t stop spending time doing these. Common ones are cooking, cleaning, or seeing friends. So it’s important to look at each of these and make sure they’re as easy and enjoyable as possible. 

It also helps to know what your minimum is for each so that if you’re burning out you can scale back to your minimum effective dose is that allows you to avoid the material harm but give you a break - like getting take out or having freezer meals on hand, knowing what the most important cleaning tasks are and only doing those, and at least sending texts or voice memos to friends to connect.

Yes/No

The goal here is to protect this time as much as possible. It’s what tends to go when Yes/Yes and No/Yes tasks start to get out of hand. That will look different for different people but it almost always involves capping Yes/Yes and No/Yes time and not allowing yourself to go over. As you might have guess most hobbies go here. 

Some people will need other people to help encourage them to keep doing it. Some people will need flexibility so it feels like they’re truly choosing it. Some people will need to refresh their memory that these kinds of activities are just as necessary as other types of tasks. 

Guilt and shame is a big one that keeps people from having many things going in this box but it can also be a lack of self knowledge too. We’re not exactly encouraged to explore what we truly deeply love. Mental illness can also make this box tricky as anhedonia can make everything feel bleh. 

In all of these cases, I really suggest making some sort of reflective practice something you try to keep in this box so you can notice what triggers guilt, what sparks joy, and what just isn’t working after a while. Doesn’t have to be journaling in the traditional sense. I used to turn on my computer cam and just talk but now that I need more audio privacy, this has been really helping me.  

No/Yes

I fucking hate this box in all honesty. It’s the one that drains me and makes me feel like shit to look at this list but also I feel the most badass when I actually complete something off of it. 

The goal with this box is to figure out what’s blocking you from this being a Yes/Yes. Basically finish the sentence “I don’t really want to do this because...” and you’re on your way. Most barriers can be dealt with. I used to not believe this but I promise it’s true. 

This is where having a therapist, good friend, or community where you can bounce ideas off of can really make all the difference. A reflection practice can also really help get a different perspective too.  Sometimes the barriers loom so large in our mind that adaptation seems ridiculous or impossible. Take advantage of different perspectives. 

Automation, delegation, and congregation (body double or a group) are incredibly useful tools here. Don’t do more here than you need to. 

What’s key in the second question for this section is that this is something you have the power to impact the outcome of. If you don’t have the power to change the outcome or you’ve done all you can, then the task is bracing, mitigating, and accepting, not dealing with the topic/task head on. 

No/No

There are 2 main things I find in this category - shit I agreed to because I felt obligated and someday maybe projects. For shit I agreed to, the only remedy is to just get out of it, to bail in the most graceful way possible. I also try to prevent stuff from winding up here to begin with (no more event planning for me for a while). 

For someday maybe projects, I like to keep a space - usually Notion - where I can collect my thoughts on it, projects, and pain a picture of what it would take to make it a Yes/No task someday in the future - always keeping in mind what I could do with the materials and time I have available right now. I’ve picked a quite a few of my No/No tasks this way and made them things I do regularly because I left myself those breadcrumbs for later. 

Step 3: Prioritizing without Feelings

So now you have your tasks organized into these buckets and know what to keep in mind with each. So...what do you do with them? 

A lot of people will tell you to prioritize and do the hardest first while your willpower is strong but I say fuck that my willpower is never strong so we’re going to do easiest first to build up some confidence. 

No/No - For obligations that no longer serve me, I bail. For someday maybe projects, I write up some quick notes in my little system in Notion.

Yes/No - gather and prep materials, block out time, ask someone to do it with you or find a group if needed

Yes/Yes - gather and prep materials, if burning out, switch to minimum viable

No/Yes - figure out the barriers, automate, delegate, congregate, list next steps

Stuck Tasks - Too much to go into here but this video is helpful.

Sometimes I bounce around a bit - dealing with a Yes/Yes task will suddenly give me the guts to deal with a stuck task, getting out of a No/No obligation will make a No/Yes task look easier. So I don’t limit myself to this. But when I’m having trouble I go back to the list and just trust. 

If I have avoided doing a No/Yes task for anywhere from several days to several weeks - it’s official a stuck task and I bounce it there while I work through other No/Yes tasks to deal with later. 

Sometimes time pressures will dictate that things need to be handled before others - that’s fine. But usually a crunch will either show you that you will not in fact face a negative consequence after all or give you a motivation boost to carry you through some of the difficult tasks. 

Step 4: Doing it again

So when do you do it again? 

I do my brain dumps on Sundays and sort them into area of life lists so I can work on them by theme or focus but honestly whenever. When I was really in the throws of some bad mood shit I’d only do it every few weeks or so. Any amount of doing this generally had lead to a better life though. 

What about stuff I’m not thinking a lot about? 

That usually means either you’ve got such a good system for it that it’s running on autopilot so why mess with success, the possible reward is not appealing enough, or the possible consequences don’t freak you out enough. 

This isn’t really a system I use for creating like...a good life by a neurotypical standard. It’s what I use to manage the stress, concern, and daydreams I’m having right now, to get things off of my plate and grow my confidence. 

So will this mean everything gets managed? No. But it does mean the stuff most likely to keep you up at night does. Which is a huge fucking boon. 

Conclusion

There’s some more intricacies in this too like moving No/No projects to Yes/No and No/Yes projects to Yes/Yes - it’s not the same strategies in my experience - but this is already running long. 

Hope this helps someone else out too! 

#studyblr #adhd #autism #planning #fuck goals

[skulla-rxcks]

Because you’re mine. {Chapter 1}

next chapter

Paring: bangchan!afab reader, ot8! Reader

Rating: explicit (eventually)

Genre: mafia au

Warnings: eventual smut but not in this chapter, kidnapping, slight yandere!chan

Thank you for 100 followers :) ! Ily guys sm

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

Chapter 1: stranger

“Fuck!” I mutter stamping my foot, realising I walked in a completely different direction I was supposed to.

Hell, I guess that’s because there’s hardly any phone service in this area which means I have to find my way to a job interview so I can finally earn more money for myself; a cashier at a gas station, pretty lame but hey. Money is money.

As soon as the reception is back I go into maps and reload the page, my phone battery dying almost immediately. How am I going to get to this interview on time? What if they reject me on the spot? The questions jumble across my mind.

“Hey, are you lost?” a mans voice comes up behind me, his breath ticking my neck because of how close he’s getting.

“excuse me I’m talking to you.” He repeats.

“Oh Uh, I actually am, I’m looking for the l-local gas station around here, I’m late to a job interview and my phones dead.” My body trembles slightly as I turn around and look up at the man who’s talking to me.

“You know, you could’ve taken a short cut, tho it seems a bit late now doesn’t it, mmm? You did say you’re running late after all.. how about I give you a lift home? It’ll just take longer trying to find your way around..”

“I don’t know if I can trust you.. I-I don’t even know you!” My voice is shaky, eyes watery, scared about what to do.

“Shhh shsh.. first off; you can call me Chan or Chris, and it’s okay don’t worry, look if you’re that scared you can hold my pocket knife while I drive.”

The car ride is silent. My hands starting to get sweaty from gripping onto the pocket knife. It’s a bit too quiet so I decide to talk, asking a simple question.

“Hey Chris? What do you do for work? Your cars pretty nice and everything so I’m wondering.”

“It’s personal business.” he replies in a tone cold enough to send brutal shivers throughout my body.

Personal.. business? What the hell does he mean? I probably shouldn’t ask any further questions who knows what he can do to me, he’s just a random man who offered me a ride home.

“Hey uh. My house is that way…” I reassure him. “Chan, i s-said my house is that wa…” my body goes cold as I say that, a sharp and cold sensation thrusts into my arm; almost like a needle. I can’t see anything. It’s just black and red. Red and black, my whole body feels numb

A few hours later. I find myself waking up tied to a chair.

“oh so your finally up..” foot steps approach me.

“Chan..?Where am I..what did you do?” I say scared, feeling his hands on my face as he takes off my blindfold, finally letting me see where I am. It’s a dark room with one singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling, looking down I notice I’m tied to a chair.

“i had to do this, otherwise probably wouldn’t have seen you again, going out isn’t really my thing.. I could be caught..”

He reassures me, moving behind the chair and placing his hands on my shoulders.

“C-Chan.. w-why I am tied up.. please let me go.”

“Mmmmm… we were attacked recently and you could’ve got taken if I didn’t secure you in one spot..” his hot breath tickles my neck, making me gasp at how close he is.

He continues talking but I zone out, instead focusing on the way his breath feels on my neck, making my legs shaking under his touch. “What do you think I should do with you?” “what do you m-mean..” I mumble.

“you’re so easy..” I feel his lips move along my jawline. “I could kill you right now and be done with you like everyone else I bring back here.. but i want something else.” He continues.

His tongue traces along my neck, I swallow hard, unable to form words. “I like you, princess, you have a certain charm that intrigues me.. maybe I’ll untie you, but only if you stay here with me… hm?”

“Chan? Are you in there?” Someone pounds on the door, from the voice it seems like another man. “Yep, Just uh, give me a minute Felix.”

Chan turns back to me and whispers into my ear again. “I’ll be back soon, Okay? Stay here.”

He leaves a light kiss on my earlobe before opening the door and leaving me all alone.

Many questions run through my mind; what does he do? Who is he? Why is he treating me like this?

I want to get out of this chair, i need to. But I’m forced to sit down. I want to cry, i want to scream. I hate it. The sound of nothing fills the air, i look around for anything to help me get out. There’s literally nothing at all. Only the chair and a lightbulb.

I could yell, i have the ability to speak but who knows what this man is capable of? The only thing I can really do is stare at the empty space around me, as much as it is useless it’s better than overthinking about everything. After what feels like hours i hear the door click, a man with a mask enters, i can’t tell who it is due to the mask hiding all of his facial features, i can tell that his arms are buff and he’s fit though, with a similar figure to Chan.

“C-chan..?” I mumble out, lip quivering as i look at the guy in front of me.

“Yeah. Don’t move, need to take you out of this room.” He groans, untying the ropes around my legs and wrists, making me fall to the ground as he takes the chair away.

“H-huh? Why..?” I question, taking his hand and walking out of the room with him.

“Stop asking questions. I’ll explain it all soon” Chan snaps back. Once we’re out of the empty room the area around us changes drastically, red carpet, lanterns on the wall. Almost like a palace, enough to make me gasp in response to my surroundings.

“Follow me.”

#~skulla rxcks #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #skz x reader #skz fic

[trashcanfills]

May I please have something with Cassidy and Hanzo where they’re introduced to reader on a mission and reader can’t help but say “woah, you’re hella pretty”

OwO yes this is a very good ask anon I like you. Also Im still dhjdjejss over the name change for the cowboy because of ALL FUCKING NAMES YOU PICK STH THAT SOUNDS THE LEAST COWBOY??? At least make him mcsomething bruh.

Then again if I was called Cole Cassidy and I wanted to be a cowboy I would def call myself Jesse Mcdonalds because it aint cOWBOY ENOUGH.

Now to actually answer the ask

Compliments in First Meeting

Cole Cassidy

“Well, I sure ain’t as pretty as you, sweet thing.” ;)

As soon as you finish saying that phrase, this man will not miss a beat in returning the favor.

Like cmon, Cole Cassidy has a talent with his words. He is def gon be that one smooth motherfucker with dem pickup linea yall.

He does like genuine compliments but won’t be too flustered by them in general unless it’s about something unexpected on himself or beautifully worded. I say this because Cole is a rather attractive looking person himself with a good variety of skillsets, so people HAVE come on to him a lot. As such, he is really experienced with the sweet talk.

That said, after the mission, do be prepared for the cowman to start some harmless flirting with you. Now that he knows you consider him cute in some way, he’s going to try and fluster you in some manner for his own entertainment.

Depending on your response, Cole would either keep on teasing you, or stop if you indicate some form of discomfort. Just be careful not to get a crush on him based solely on these interactions. Lord knows how many people he has to let down because of his charms.

Shimada Hanzo

Scoffs. Rolls his eyes for good measure and tells you to concentrate on the mission.

But if you are observant enough, you miiight notice that his ears are a bit red after that. Hehe xp

Shimada Hanzo, like Cole Cassidy, is one fucking fine specimen of a man. The only difference is how approachable they are. While Cole usually looks very friendly and chill, Hanzo looks incredibly intimidating and judgemental af.

As such, the amount of people who would genuinely compliment Hanzo is almost little to none, because the ones who think he’s hot would be too scared to say that to his resting bitch face, and those who do compliment on his appearance usually are just sucking up to him in some manner.

Hanzo is aware of his good looks. For sure. He was once the heir of the prestigious Shimada clan for god’s sake. With looks, money, status, and competence, this guy was prob like one of the most unattainable bachelors in his youth back when he was still in the clan. I can imagine him getting tons of letters from secret admirers writing literal poetry about his appearance, to which he then dumped into the trash because he didn’t care about crushes then.

So if you actually said that Hanzo’s pretty to his face, he’s gon brush it off at first as someone trying to butter him up, a bit flustered because rarely anyone nowadays actually says it blunt to his face (since he aint heir to the clan anymore and is just a mercenary/overwatch agent). Later on though when he realises you were being genuine and is just. Oh.

Hilariously Hanzo is gonna do the opposite of Cole and actually avoid you for a while lmao. He is absolutely not used to ppl being nice, genuine or kind to him in that sense. He’s also like ??? are u gon start hitting on him??? Because he’s pretty??? Yea poor guy has bad ppl skills pls be patient.

Its alright haha over time if you dont make a big deal abt it or u seem chill and hang out with him more Hanzo would prob be ok with you.

There will be times where Hanzo happens to recall that first meeting moment and he will just be flushing a bit in mixed embarrassment/appreciation/self-loathe before moving on. He’s really not used to direct compliments that is not abt his skills.

I know there are older asks I should have answered lmao but this one somehow was able to get my creative juices on the go so lucky u anon

#ow x reader #overwatch x reader #cole cassidy x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #overwatch imagines #overwatch headcanons #ow imagines #ow headcanons #this is sooo cute ngl ahhhhhh #reader: woah u pwetty #cole: thx u too ;) #meanwhile hanzo: becomes flustered potato

[shortpplfedup]

Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 12

And that's all she wrote friends! And how she wrote it was...weird? The show definitely pulled some punches at the end there, trying to thread a needle and ending instead in a kind of wishy-washy damp squib. The couples landed up right, but in the wrong way? Guu mai chorp. But these hoes still need their final sorting. Nick led the pack going into the finale, will he end up on top at the end? Only the mains this week in my final rankings, but first...

⭐A1. FUCKIN' MIX!

Then…can I be your friend too?

I'm sorry I can't hear y'all over my screams at the MESS Minx Mix looks set to cause. That man is too pretty to be allowed in public. I WANT IT JOJO, I WANT IT NOW!

🔻🔻🔻Z∞. Boeing (8)

I just happen to want something strong tonight.

In the end, Boeing is just a lonelyboy like all the rest of them, which is fine, but he also just...disappears after the Ray/Mew Voltron vanquishes him and he gets a consolation makeout from Boston, which is not. Anyway, Mond is a good actor, also he's hot and got to kiss a bunch of boys, so winning.

Top tier show sidepieces: Yo, Plug, Summer, Freddie Mercury 2, Sand's Mom, Ray's Dad, Daddy Dan, April, Mew's Moms (barely)

These characters were mostly on the side of the angels, and I thank them for their service.

Bottom bitches: Cheum, Atom, Gap

Yeah they apologised, but fuck em.

Onto our main six!

🔺1. Boston (2)

I'm friendless.

In the end, Boston's at the top of my mains pile, because MY MANS DESERVED BETTER. Not in terms of Nick, I think that actually ended the absolute best way: Boston made his case, Nick made his decision, and they parted more or less as friends (and I loved absolutely every conversation those two had in this episode). No I mean in terms of his shitty friends, especially MEW. Cheum at least apologised, even if perfunctorily, and he apologised for sleeping with Atom (yeah, he really shouldn't have done that). He and Ray let the water wash under their particular bridge, and seem set to be cool. They never really had much in the way of beef to be fair. But Mew...actually you know what, good. Some people you don't need to be friends with, especially people who are gonna judge you and try to make you feel shitty about yourself. The narrative leaves Boston literally alone at the end though, legit the last time we see him is sitting on the curb with tears in his eyes as Nick walks away. Thanks, I hate it. I hope New York is better to Boston, and I hope he continues to learn and grow and tackle those impulse control problems.

🔻2. Nick (1)

You should go back to living a fun and sassy life that you prefer instead of trying to please a daydreaming guy like me.

YOU COULD HAVE ACCEPTED THE GODDAMN PHOTO NICKYBOY. I mean I get why not, but justice for my mans. Anyway, Nick's legit my second fave main here, as he grapples with the in-your-face realities of Boston's separation of love and sex, and decides he can't handle it. And that's good, that he loves Boston enough not to judge him, and loves himself enough not to put himself through something he knows he doesn't want. Every single choice and every conversation these two have had since Nick apologised has been nothing less than stellar, and that's because Nick took accountability and chose honesty. Well done baby boy.

🔺3. Sand (5)

You're right. When I love someone, I become a dog. But at least my owner loves me.

Pathetic to the very end, consistency thy name is Sand. He could have at least thrown his bussy into that threesome, but nooooooo, he got jealous IN TWO DIRECTIONS AT ONCE 🤣. He's fine with both boys slangin the dick his way, but calls a halt when they leave him out? Sir that's when you stand back and admire. Sand's pick-me ass ain't never gonna be my absolute fave, but his self-awareness and humiliation kink work together to be kind of endearing in a guileless sort of way, and at least he's learned to take the money if he's going to accept the ownership. It's sweet in a weird kink way. Also, his and Nick's loser friendship pushes him several points higher up the scale. There's growth and acceptance there, and he's 21 so I'll let him have it.

🔺4. Ray (7)

You still love him so I dragged him here for you. But I wanted to join just a little.

Well when he's not drunk night and day Ray's still a rich asshole, but he's a ton more fun. I love that he knows the kids at community service don't like him🤣. I spot rehab therapy working on him a bit. That threesome set up was WILD, and I personally had a good time with it, but it's probably best that it led to talking rather than fucking. Ray's got a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG way to go, but at least he treats Boston like a human being (I AM SO BITTER AND I'M NOT GETTING OVER IT). He's never gonna clock Mew's shittiness (BITTERNESS ACCELERATING) but you win some, you lose some. By the way sir, don't listen to Sand, he absolutely will be your sugar baby if you beg a little.

🔻5. Top (4)

Because I have you, everything is fine.

Top's smugness was the single most genuine thing about him, so I actually quite enjoyed watching him be a smug motherfucker this ep as he gets everything he thinks he wants. You know what I enjoyed more though? Watching his soul leave his body when Minx!Mix walked into the hostel and laser-targeted Mew. Mew putting Top through hell is legit my favourite flavour of their weird little fucked up relationship, and I'm sorry I won't get to see Mew eventually fall for Mix (you KNOW he wants to top somebody, YOU KNOW IT) and Top cry about it while he screws a bellboy in a service closet.

🔹6. Mew (6)

Are you about to say "But you're my last, Mew"? If so, I'm going to go puke in the bathroom.

OK, that line was funny, but jeez what a prig. What a sanctimonious nag. What a judgy little hypocrite. In his own conception he 'won' but Mew's the biggest loser in my heart. No he didn't have to forgive Boston, but come on, he could've kept it cute OR kept it moving full speed instead of the fake nicey nicey only to stick the knife in after. It's good that he walks away from Boston in the end, because with friends like Mew you don't need enemies. He makes Ray worse. And he and Cheum form the feedback loop from hell. Bookie sold the fuck out of this character, I have nothing but praise for him, but Mew is the living worst. I won't mention the character he reminds me most of in all of fiction, but if you're a certain age and you think about it a little, you can probably guess.

#only friends the series #bless this mess #only friends weekly character rankings #i support gay wrongs #only friends #only friends series #bl meta series

[myfriendgoo94]

Random story:

I used to date a guy (hi if you’re reading this btw) who sometimes would buy those comics you see at the comic store that are like “alice in wonderland but she has ridiculous tits and ass and it’s got writing in it but it’s mainly an excuse to look at some drawings of tits and ass”. If you know, you know.

I never had a problem with that exactly cuz like, we were dating but i believe people should be able to get their titillation from more than one place and like, he wasn’t gonna dump me for these drawings. It was not the kinda thing i would read but i wouldn’t judge him or anyone for reading them.

That being said tho it did make me feel slightly insecure. And while we were dating i could never figure out why it made me feel like that.

Well, sitting here now i tried again to figure it out. And i immediately thought to myself “well you were insecure cuz the women in those books were REAL wom—“. 😳

That stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Real women”?? They’re made of fucking paper!! A horny guy fucking *drew* them!! Never mind the fact that they had completely unrealistic proportions, they were FUCKING FICTIONAL!!!

So, i sat there for a couple minutes and just let that sink in. I considered these sex drawings “real” women, and myself a “fake” woman. Keep in mind: this was a thought i was having today, not five years ago.

Basically, i’ve got quite the fraud complex going on inside my skull, and i would *really* like to start working on that. I don’t know how, but i think at least realizing how absurd it can get and pointing it out is a step in the right direction.

I’m a girl. I’m a pretty girl. I make my money by being a pretty girl. And STILL i have these thoughts. Of course, sometimes i see myself for what i am and feel gorgeous, but waaaay too often i find myself thinking things like “the people that reach out and call me breathtaking are just being nice” or “the people who sub to my OF are just kind, charitable souls and don’t find me attractive at all”, which are patently ridiculous things to think.

So, i guess what i’m trying to say is: your brain will go to ridiculous lengths to make you feel unsure, insecure and fraudulent. I can’t really help with that exactly but what i can do is remind everyone that they should question those thoughts and examine them. Because chances are that you are valid and these negative thoughts you’re having are actually stupid as fuck.

#hopefully i can remember this myself #self help #self healing #self love #self learning #mental health