#and too many modern artists to name
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while it's true that America Fuck Yeah country music starting selling like crazy after 9/11 and polluted the genre, I just want to emphasize that there has always been good and bad country music, and that good country music is still being made today. like rap, part of the country genre has always been active (sometime toxic) debate about who is "real" country and who is "fake". because it is a genre that values authenticity and talks about shit that mainstream music tries to ignore - like the despair, hardship, and inherent dignity of working class lives. so there is a constant pressure to "prove yourself" as a country artist, which is why fake performative bullshit patriotism with a fake Texas twang can get a toehold.
the roots of country are poor people making art for themselves, just like rap and blues, and those roots live on in some artists and not others. country music contains multitudes, and it's frustrating to have the genre polluted by American far-right conservative Christians who chase away a lot of potential fans and make kids think all country is bigoted at its core and anyone who likes it is a conservative.
I love country music, and as a 30 year old liberal lesbian living in modern America, I'm telling you there is a ton of it that speaks directly to me. more than I can ever get through. it's a beautiful American art.
The kids on TikTok think that just because he was a classic country singer, Johnny Cash was conservative??? My babies he covered a Nine Inch Nails song in his seventies.
Classic country singers (the majority of which came from poor roots) were always talking about how much The Man sucked because they were taking money from poor rural folk. You’re gonna tell me that’s conservative?? Get outta here.
#america#americana#country music#woody guthrie#johnny cash#loretta lynn#dolly parton#hank williams#all of#outlaw country#really#and too many modern artists to name#sturgill simpson#tyler childers#willie nelson#kacey musgraves
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When I was making my first trying-to-be-serious ocs it was in the start of the 2010s (and I mean the START, 2010-2012) and there was a big “anti Mary-sue” movement on deviantart (the website I spent half my internet time on and was posting my art on) and I liked to make my character designs pretty extra (although compared to modern stuff they look pretty normal) so I started to get self-conscious. At the time though I was watching soul eater (and there was another thing I’m forgetting and it’s really frustrating me) and I saw that it was popular with a cool art style and the characters were extra AF, so I was like “okay. Maybe, as long as I can draw my character often and consistently it doesn’t matter if they are wild!” and you know what? Early teen me was RIGHT. Not about many things, but about this in particular she was!
#emma posts#girl was relying too heavily on character tropes and some stuff of that era#but she was so right about character design#if maybe using a few too many colors for each one#now people are just being wild with it and it fucking works#two examples I can think of in modern popular animation are mha/bnha and hazbin hotel (still haven’t watched that one)#but damn if those characters don’t look like some of my favorite early teen creations#and the artist made it WORK#i don’t think I’ve gone quite as wild as bnha but you know what? one of my old worlds still could#I’m sentimental about that one and even if I’ve been stuck I’m still taking that one with me forever#other projects might come and go. but (project currently named absolution) is constant#as well as its main cast. I’ve been learning a bit more about some of the mythologies I used as inspiration and it’s been giving a lot of#ideas for how I can develop things. it has not solved a few hang ups though#the biggest one being what was the divide about and how was it defined?’#it’s been made more gray as I learn more about mythology and folklore#the Christian aspects of it can be a bit clear. but others have more gray areas and i like it but it also makes things a bit frustrating#interestingly enough. flight rising having so many different species on one world has given me some ideas#I am a bit reluctant to use too much from outside certain cultures though. which can appear a bit biased and probably is. but I don’t want#to mess up something you can’t really change about a creature from a culture in less familiar with. it would be a dick move#but yeah. if death the kid can exist my weirdos can as well
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interestingly the only mention i can find of a monastery loquarium is (rendered "loquorium") in "the california padres and their mission" by charles francis saunders and joseph smeaton chase, a book in the public domain:
The Mission relics at Santa Inés are many and interesting. Besides those used in the present-day church services, and the beautiful old vestments that are in the sacristy, there is a considerable collection arranged for interested visitors in an interior room of the convento — a room formerly used as the loquorium, where daily, after dinner and after supper, the friars were at liberty to come to rest for an hour from their laboring and praying, and relax in human chat.
the next paragraph also mentions this room now housing relics "patiently got together from all sorts of places," including "from the earth of the surrounding fields as the plough turns it up"
#originally the search yielded archive.org's text version which seems to have been like that autogenerated version from (their own) scan#where it clearly results in a lot of typos as it's ''misread'' like ''inés'' becoming ''in6s''#so it made it difficult to cross reference w/the pdf scan lol...''convento'' had become ''comento'' like i figured that was wrong but had t#actually see the original text to know what had gone wrong there#speaking of limited information recorded in specific places....#how that santa inés is i believe from saint agnes; the portuguese form being inez#akd's character in ''the outside story'' being called ''inez'' in some articles but in the movie they're only called/credited as ''izzy''#a potential nickname; i could believe that this jumped off from them being named inez but thus far it remains apocrypha lol....#pentiment#it's also ofc like; how many resources on olden monastery rooms that aren't scanned / converted to text / public domain available thusly...#but you can somewhat expect Monastic Trivia to potentially show up in other sites or even via like online dictionaries....#checked as much by looking up another [term for Special Room in a monastery] and getting various results defining it#oh now i'm remembering some fun research moment learning that some like Christian Order was defined by standing during prayers instead of#kneeling...and the definition is available and they're all exactly the same b/c they all come from One Resource offering that definition#this came from that ''i'm drawing winston's Standing Posture a certain way'' moment where i read the wikipedia page for [standing] lol#which stemmed from reading the wikipedia page for contrapposto in an effort to learn other Artistic Terms For Standing Certain Ways#orthostasis....yep there it is in the ''see also'' section of the wikipedia Standing article: agonoclita / the agonoclites#7th century christian sect who Never Kneeled...name from greek for like ''i do not bend the knee''...One Citation = everyone's sole citatio#oh also noticing that a loquarium was probably all the more relevant when piero seems to note The Rule frowns on too much conversing for fu#like i've been to Dinner With Benedictines In Their Monastery multiple times lol no such pressure modern day to not chitchat#but that when Rule manifestations were thusly; a room that was like ''exempt'' from that would be unsurprising....fun chitchat hq#monasteries of w/e various orders having zones dedicated to being more chill than is supposedly required outside it....#hmm wikipedia's saying benedictines maintain silence As Much As Possible outside bonus silent hrs / social convos are Limited#news to me. also says ''but such details'' abt the day to day life is technically left by The Rule up to whatever Superior of an abbey#evidently the way of doing things at the one i was familiar with / around were not so pressed about silence / rare/limited socializing
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In Defense of Shitty Queer Art
Queer art has a long history of being censored and sidelined. In 1895, Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Gray was used as evidence in the author’s sodomy trials. From the 1930s to the 1960s, the American Hays Code prohibited depictions of queerness in film, defining it as “sex perversion.” In 2020, the book Steven Universe: End of an Era by Chris McDonnell confirmed that Rebecca Sugar’s insistence on including a sapphic wedding in the show is what triggered its cancellation by Cartoon Network. According to the American Library Association, of the top ten most challenged books in 2023, seven were targeted for their queer content. Across time, place, and medium, queer art has been ruthlessly targeted by censors and protesters, and at times it seems there might be no end in sight.
So why, then, are queer spaces so viciously critical of queer art?
Name any piece of moderately-well-known queer media, and you can find immense, vitriolic discourse surrounding it. Audiences debate whether queer media is good representation, bad representation, or whether it’s otherwise too problematic to engage with. Artists are picked apart under a microscope to make sure their morals are pure enough and their identities queer enough. Every minor fault—real or perceived—is compiled in discourse dossiers and spread around online. Lines are drawn, and callout posts are made against those who get too close to “problematic art.”
Modern examples abound, such as the TV show Steven Universe, the video game Dream Daddy, or the webcomic Boyfriends, but it’s far from a new phenomenon. In his book Hi Honey, I’m Homo!, queer pop culture analyst Matt Baume writes about an example from the 1970s, where the ABC sitcom titled Soap was protested by homophobes and queer audiences alike—before a single episode of the show ever aired. Audiences didn’t wait to actually watch the show before passing judgment and writing protest letters.
After so many years starved for positive representation, it’s understandable for queer audiences to crave depictions where we’re treated well. It’s exhausting to only ever see the same tired gay tropes and subtext, and queer audiences deserve more. Yet the way to more, better, varied representation is not to insist on perfection. The pursuit of perfection is poison in art, and it’s no different when that art happens to be queer.
When the pool of queer art is so limited, it feels horrible when a piece of queer art doesn’t live up to expectations. Even if the representation is technically good, it’s disappointing to get excited for a queer story only for that story to underwhelm and frustrate you.
But the world needs that disappointing art. It needs mediocre art. It even needs the bad art. The world needs to reach a point where queer artists can fearlessly make a mess, because if queer artists can only strive for perfection, the less art they can make. They may eventually produce a masterpiece, but a single masterpiece is still a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of censorship. The only way to drown out bigotry and offensive stereotypes created by bigots is to allow queer artists the ability to experiment, learn through making mistakes, and represent their queer truth even if it clashes with someone else’s.
If queer artists aren’t allowed to make garbage, we can never make those masterpieces everyone craves. If queer artists are terrified at all times that their art will be targeted both by bigots and their own queer communities, queer art cannot thrive.
Let queer artists make shitty art. Let allies to queer people try their hand at representation, even if they miss the mark. Let queer art be messy, and let the artists screw up without fear of overblown retribution.
It’s the only way we’ll ever get more queer art.
_
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The thing is, Tommy’s worried about Evan coming over to his house for the first time. He’s seen Evan’s loft. It’s all clean lines, modern appliances and details. What little sentimental odds and ends he owns are tucked away or so subtle than Tommy didn’t spot them the first couple of times he came over.
Tommy’s house, by contrast, is filled with the detritus one accumulates when they’ve gone no contact with everyone related to them and they’re trying to create a homey, family atmosphere out of thrift stores and the Pottery Barn catalogue instead of friends and family.
He’s a knick-knacker, an antique furniture collector, a throw pillow and afghan fanatic.
He doesn’t have much in the way of books, but he has shelves and shelves of notebooks, some full, some half-used, some untouched. It’s a habit he picked up when his first ever therapist (after he left the 118) coaxed him into writing everything down to make a little sense of the mess of contradictions, phobias, old prejudices, prejudices still clinging on and traumas that made it feel impossible to figure out what to talk about first when he sat down in that office.
There’s a small, awkward section of wall in his kitchen created when a previous owner of the house decided to add a laundry room (embarrassingly, his favorite room in the house for it’s sheer utility) and that’s where Tommy hangs his collection of coffee mugs. Some of them are Goodwill finds, some souvenirs, some band merch or creations by local artists he picked up at some market or other.
There’s five different varieties of protein powder constantly cluttering his kitchen counter because he ran out of room in the small pantry. His pots and pans hang over the tiny, rolling kitchen island, which is itself nearly taken over by a serving tray that holds his water filter, a candle, a decorative planter filled with his cooking utensils, a plastic case of toothpicks.
He still has a dvd collection, for heaven’s sake, and it takes up most of his sagging entertainment center. He should replace it, but it’s the first piece of furniture he ever restored and he’s having trouble letting go. Speaking of letting go, there’s a dog bed in the corner for a dog that passed away nearly ten months ago. He probably will at least hide that in a closet before Evan gets here.
Because he is coming over. No matter how nervous Tommy is, he’s not gonna come up with another excuse for why they have to postpone or meet at Evan’s instead. He gets the feeling he’s already made Evan a little wary, and with Evan’s relationship history and his fear of being too much, not enough, just left, Tommy will eat his own foot before he purposely exacerbates Evan’s fears.
If Evan looks around and decides Tommy is a hoarder or a slob or a million other nasty epithets Tommy’s brain is offering up like some cruel, self-sabotaging buffet- Well, they’ll talk about it. They’ll learn and adjust. Evan has never, ever been cruel to Tommy and it’s quite frankly laughable that he would start now.
That’s what Tommy tells the rogue half of his brain trying to rain on their parade. Another thing he picked up from his therapist - name the part of you that spews negative self-talk and talk back to it. Predictably, Tommy named his Vince. Shut the fuck up, Vince.
Evan’s shift ended twenty minutes ago and Tommy has chili on the stove keeping warm. Between showering and the drive over, Evan should be due at his door in another twenty-five or so. Tommy hides the dog bed, lights the kitchen candle, tries to find things to do with his hands so he doesn't watch the time like a hawk. They’ve had conflicting shifts for almost two weeks with only stolen moments and half-asleep kisses in between. Tommy misses his boyfriend. But a watched clock never ticks, or whatever.
His strategy works, because Evan’s knock on the front door actually startles him a little from the stack of unopened mail he’s sorting through. So many flyers for what feels like every home decor and craft store in the state.
Evan’s eyes are gentle and joyful when Tommy answers the door. “Hey.” He leans in to squeeze Tommy’s bicep and press a kiss to the wing of his cheek. Tommy can feel Evan’s mouth stretch into a smile against his skin.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Tommy wiggles his fingers under the strap of Evan’s duffel to take it from him and steps aside to let him into the house. His heart thuds in his chest.
Evan surrenders his bag and steps into Tommy’s home for the first time. If he notices Tommy holding his breath, he doesn’t comment yet.
He takes a look around while Tommy tries to look anywhere but his face. He doesn’t want to let on that he’s being a complete lunatic about this, that he let his anxiety take over for the better part of the day.
When Evan turns around to face Tommy again and slides his hands over Tommy’s waist, presses his fingers into Tommy’s back, nudging them closer together, his smile has split into a full grin. Tommy can’t help reflexively smiling in return. He can feel his cheeks flooding with warmth. It should be embarrassing that Evan still makes Tommy blush at the drop of a hat even all these months later, but if it helps Evan know deep in his bones that Tommy is gone for him, Tommy wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“It looks like you.” Evan draws his hands up and down Tommy’s torso in gentle strokes. “Cozy. Warm. Like…” He trails off and bites his lip, drops his eyes to Tommy’s chest.
Tommy hooks his fingers under Buck’s chin and lifts his gaze back up until their eyes meet in a move that’s become so routine it’s pretty much an inside joke between them. “Like what? Don’t leave me hanging.”
It’s Evan turn to flush a deep pink. He takes an unsteady breath in. “L-like home.”
An immense weight lifts off Tommy’s chest so quickly it almost steals his breath, but Evan has tensed up just a fraction, so Tommy hums softly, spreads his big hands over Buck’s wide shoulders and digs his fingers in to massage the tension back out. He slides deeper into Evan’s space to take his mouth in a chaste, lingering kiss, and he murmurs against his lips. “Glad to hear it.”
#will expand on this later but for now#our guys are navigating through old haunts together#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#911 abc#911 fic
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From Gold to Mold
Chapter 5: The Departure (Warning: this chapter will contain violence. Read at your own risk.)
It’s been around two months since you accepted the Megamycete into your body and for the first time since you were dragged to Gotham, you’re actually happy. With its vast archives, you’re bursting with knowledge spanning over the course of four-hundred years, ranging from the academic to the arts and it’s thanks to that knowledge that your grades have skyrocketed in the past few weeks; where once you struggled with something, now you know better than even the teachers, even correcting them when they make a mistake and outpacing the best students in your class. Sure, by this time, it’s a little too late to get to the top of your class, but you really don’t care about your ranking; all that matters is being able to complete your homework, class assignments, and tests in record time, giving you time to work on more important things, like your game.
Included in the Megamycete’s records are the knowledge and memories of many computer programmers, some of them working for Bruce in his tech division; you also have many artists and musicians swimming in your head, many of them talented in making art on computers, so with your newfound knowledge, you’ve made tremendous strides in making your game. A year ago, you thought you would have to find a way to crowdfund the game in order to pay artists, musicians, and programmers and it would take a few years to make it ready for players, but now, you’re sure you can have this game ready by yourself within the year.
Not only has your intellectual attributes increased, but so have your physical abilities; the Megamycete’s records also include many athletes, both professional and student, and you know how to play every sport that’s ever been played in Gotham, but you haven’t shown any improvement in gym class. You never had any interest in sports before and you sure as hell don’t know. Plus, if you suddenly start showing everyone in the school that you’ve all of a sudden become smarter and stronger out of nowhere, you might attract enough attention that not even the Waynes can ignore.
And that won’t end well for anyone.
Speaking of them, you know they heard about what happened at the My Alibi bar and are working overtime to find the culprit, the only thing they know for certain is that it was the work of someone new. It actually brought a smile to your face when you learned about it, that for all their detective skills, they have no idea that the person they’re hunting for is under their own roof. While Damian is the only one to have ever told you to your face, you know they all think you’re stupid; that because you chose to deal with your fucked up life in a semi-healthy way and not dress up in some stupid little costume and fistfight psychopaths, that must mean there’s something wrong with you in the head.
Fuck all of them. You don’t need them and tomorrow night, you’ll be driving back to Goodsprings.
When you turned eighteen, you inherited all of your Momma’s assets, namely her life insurance policy, bank accounts, and royalties from all her books, all of which was worth a little over two-million; at first, you were going to save that money for when you moved back to Goodsprings in case you had to fix up your old home and pay the bills, but after almost dying due to relying on bus stops and bumming rides off of Alfred was unfair to the man, you decided to take some of the money and invest it in a car. The Megamycete had absorbed many modern car experts, so you were able to pick out a brand new car that was worth the hit to your wallet.
Plus, you had a way of earning a pretty penny and stick it to Bruce at the same time: sell his proprietary technology to Lex Corp. Many of Bruce’s employees are buried in Gotham’s cemeteries, some of them working on the latest technological breakthrough at the time of their deaths and you knew Bruce’s biggest business rival would kill to see what Bruce’s scientists are cooking up in their lab.
You reached out to the man using your computer knowledge to send him an email that couldn’t be traced back to you, stating you had the specs for several of Wayne Enterprises’ latest large scale projects and asked him if he was interested in buying them for a couple million in cash. Knowing he’d never consider the deal without some proof, you included bits and pieces of what you were offering, just enough to show you were legit, but not enough to be useful without the rest of it.
Sure enough, he took the hit and now, here you are, meeting with the most powerful man in Metropolis in his office, which overlooks the entire city. Of course, you’re smart enough to not show him your face, so you took the form of some Joe Schmo that died years ago.
“I don’t believe it,” the man exclaims as he sifts through the papers you drew the designs on. “Medicine, experimental aircraft specs, software designs! Over a million spent in corporate espionage and nothing to show for it. Then you come along, offering more than enough to recoup those losses and then some.” He looks back at you, an ominous twinkle in his eye that makes you shiver. “Any chance I can rely on your services in the future?”
���Perhaps,” you say in your disguised voice. “If I get my hands on more WE secrets, I’ll keep you in mind. Now, about my money?”
“Of course,” he purrs. He snaps at his assistant, who places the briefcase she was holding on his desk and opens it, revealing more money than you’ve ever seen in your entire life. “Twenty million in unmarked bills. I trust that’s more than enough?”
“Yes,” you say, trying to hide your shock from earning enough money to last you the rest of your life in just a few seconds. “I believe it is.”
(We see no signs of sabotage or subterfuge,) the Megamycete says. (It would appear Luthor intends to keep his word. For once.)
“Mercy will see you out,” Lex says as you take the briefcase. He then holds out a business card. “And this is my personal number and email. If you have more secrets you’re looking to sell, call me day or night.”
“Thank you,” you say as you pocket the card.
And with that, you follow the assistant out of Lex’s office and down to the lobby.
(You must be happy to have amassed such a fortune,) the Megamycete states as you walk out the front door. (And exacting revenge on Bruce Wayne makes this moment all the better.)
“You’re damn right,” you respond with a chuckle.
(Perhaps you could use some of that money to enjoy yourself? Since our joining, you have been hard at work with your education or your project. Taking some time to have fun will do you a world of good.)
Its words resonate with you. Sure, you’ve been busy with catching up on school and the gaps in your game, but you’ve done some fun things the last few weeks, right?
(No, we are afraid you have not.)
“Damn,” you mutter. “Guess I should change that.” You glance down at the briefcase in your hand. “Well, we have twenty mil of Lex’s money in here. How about have a night out in Gotham?”
(We agree wholeheartedly,” it exclaims, its voice full of joy and anticipation. (We look forward to seeing what you have planned.)
You chuckle as you change your form to your hardened mold armor and wings and take flight into Metropolis’ night sky. Fortunately for you, it’s a quiet night in the massive city, so Superman isn’t flying around, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into the Man of Steel.
“I gotta say, this city looks a helluva lot better than Gotham,” you remark as you soar above the skyscrapers. “Gotham looks like a giant tomb while Metropolis looks like the future.”
(Yes, we have noticed that no matter the era, the architecture of Gotham refuses to change. The city seems to be doomed to remain locked in a by-gone age. We look forward to seeing the world beyond.)
“You’ll love Goodsprings. Sure, it’s the size of a stamp compared to a behemoth like Gotham, but you can actually sit on your porch at night and not have to worry about gunshots or escaped lunatics. People actually have conversations with one another instead of telling you to fuck off.”
In a less than thirty minutes, you arrive back at Gotham and land on the roof of Wayne Manor and quietly sneak in. Joker’s still on the loose, no doubt waiting for the perfect moment to unveil his latest sick and twisted plan, so everyone’s out and Alfred’s stuck in the Batcave, keeping an eye on camera feeds.
You take out a few bills from the briefcase before hiding it under your mattress and heading out to the back where you keep your car parked. While Bruce has multiple cars, every single one of them is a high-end luxury car that costs way more than yours, so you didn’t want to take the risk of Bruce or the others finding it and doing something to it, so you keep your car behind a large barn that’s used to hold all the groundskeeping equipment.
As you drive off the property, you tell your phone to dial Alfred, who answers it halfway through the first ring.
“Master Y/N, is everything alright?”
“Yeah, Alfred, everything’s fine. I was just letting you know that I’m going out for a bit. Thought some time outside the house would do me some good.”
“While I agree that you need to get more, perhaps tonight isn’t the best time,” he says hesitantly. “I mean, the Joker is still out there, no doubt planning another heinous act.”
You’re touched by the man’s concern for you. Really, you are. But, with the Megamycete, you have nothing to fear.
“Don’t worry, Alfred, I’ll be fine.,” you reassure him. “I promise I won’t be gone too long. I’ll just be in Amusement Mile for an hour or two.”
“Still, I wish you weren’t going by yourself. Perhaps I can get one of your siblings—“
“No,” you cut him off. “I’m going out to have fun before I graduate, not be miserable. If I wanted to be tortured, I’d throw myself in Arkham’s Intensive Care Building.”
“I know why you feel that way, Master Y/N, but maybe you can give them another chance? You’ll be graduating tomorrow night and leaving after the ceremony. I just don’t want you leaving us under such bad circumstances.”
You know the man’s been trying to get the Waynes to notice you, but they’re all busy with their own lives in addition to being vigilantes at night, either fighting crime in Gotham, Blüdhaven, or elsewhere around the world. And when they’re all home, they’re spending time together, having fun that was never meant to include you. You learned that after countless times coming downstairs and seeing them, eating delicious food, laughing, watching movies, and enjoying themselves without you. After a while, you stopped going downstairs when you heard noises coming from the living room.
You don’t belong here, either in the Wayne Family or in Gotham. You never did. You know it, they know it, and deep down, Alfred knows it, whether he wants to admit it or not. You’re a Gould, not a Wayne and there’s nothing that’s going to change that.
“Alfred, I think the ship for us being a ‘happy, loving family’ sailed long time ago. They’ve made it clear that there’s no room for me in their world and I sure as hell don’t want them in mine. All I want to do is go home.”
“I understand,” he says after a brief moment of silence. “I hope you have fun, Master Y/N. And please, if you get into trouble, call me straight away.”
“I will, Alfred. I’ll talk to you later.” And with that, you hang up.
You let out a sigh when the line goes dead. You hated saying things like that to the poor man, but it’s how you feel about the Waynes. Ever since you moved in, all you heard about Bruce is that he’s a caring man and a loving father, but that care and love only appears to be for those he deems worthy of it. For someone like you, a bastard born from a careless one-night stand, he has nothing but neglect and indifference.
And the same goes for the others. They’re all a dysfunctional hodgepodge that are saturated with so much trauma and paranoia that it’s a miracle that they haven’t killed each other yet. You’re sure if they were locked up in Arkham and studied, they could fill an entire library’s worth of psychological textbooks.
(You should not concern yourself with them. They have made it clear that they are not worthy of your love or forgiveness. After so many years of suffering, you are so close to breaking free from your prison. By this time tomorrow, you will be back where you belong.)
“Yeah, back home. Finally.”
After thirty grueling minutes of dealing with Gotham’s traffic, you finally reach your destination: Bat Burger. As much as you hate any mention of Batman, Gotham’s cashed in on the “Bat Craze” and inserts him into anything they can. At least the food’s good; almost good enough to make you ignore the cartoonish Batfamily designs on all the walls. Emphasis on the almost.
“Welcome to Bat Burger,” the teenage cashier, dressed in a uniform designed around Batman, says in a monotone voice as you approach the counter. A brief look in his eyes tells you he’d rather be anywhere else right now. “How can I bring justice to your hunger today?”
“Can I get a Batburger with ketchup, large fries, and a large Bat Cola?”
“Do you want to Jokerize those fries,” he asks as he types in your order.
“No thanks.” You hand him a hundred dollar bill. “I don’t need the change. Keep it as a tip.”
“Oh,” he exclaims, the dead look in his eye gone, replaced by shock. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” you respond, happy to see such a transformation in the teen.
“Thank you,” he stutters as he hands you your cup for your drink. “Your food’ll be out in a minute. Let me know if you need anything else.”
You nod as you take the cup to the drink station.
(That was quite charitable of you,) the Megamycete remarks as you fill up your cup. (Such an action is rare in this city.)
“He looked like he needed it. I know what it’s like to be that miserable. Plus, it’s not like we’re hurting for money. If I ever run low, I still have plenty of Bruce’s secrets I can sell to Lex for a couple million.”
(Indeed. It would appear he had many of his employees working on secret projects that were not meant to be released. Perhaps such things were only meant for his nightly activities?)
“Wouldn’t doubt it,” you say as you sit down. “Kinda surprised no one’s figured it out. Batman’s toys look expensive and there’s not that many people in Gotham that could foot a bill that big other than Bruce Wayne.”
Not long after that, your order was called and you collected your fast food goodness. You practically moan as you take your first bite.
(This is quite appealing,) it says as you take another bite. (Savoring the food in real time is far batter than savoring it from the memories of the deceased.)
“I’ve wanted to come here for a while,” you say as you take a few fries. “Always saw the garbage cans full of Batburger bags when they came back from patrol. They never offered to take me and I never asked.”
(Their loss, we assure you. We can think of no better meal companion.)
“Shucks,” you chuckle. “You’re making me blush.”
After your meal, you decided to go to the arcade a few blocks away from the restaurant, eager to show the Megamycete all your favorite games. Also, with it behind you, you might be able to earn more tickets and win some of the bigger prizes. Your stride’s broken when you hear screaming, gunfire, and people running from the Gotham Arcade.
“What’s going on,” you ask a man as he tries to run past you.
“It’s Joker,” he exclaims, his eyes full of fear. “He’s shooting up the place!”
He runs away as you duck into an alley and call upon the mold to form the armor you’ve been using a lot lately. As you walk towards the arcade, you look through the roots and see the Bats scattered across the city, handling other crises; meaning they wouldn’t be here anytime soon.
“Guess it’s up to us to save the day.”
(The Clown has added many into our archives, all of whom spent their last moments of life terrified and in pain. We think it is time he knows fear.)
You walk into the arcade and are greeted by with over a dozen bodies, all of them riddled with bullet holes.
“My god,” you say, stepping over two teen boys who look like brothers. “There wasn’t a point to this. This is an arcade, not a bank. He just did this because he could.”
You follow the sound of gunfire until you see the Joker, dressed in his signature purple suit, shooting at a bunch of arcade cabinets.
“This is so much fun,” he exclaims as he rips a bunch of tickets from the machines. “Don’t you agree, Harley?”
“Sure do, Mistah J,” his partner, clad in her usual red and black spandex and jester hat, answers as she slams her giant mallet down on a poor Whack-A-Mole machine. She bends down and rips out a bunch of tickets from the smoking husk and holds it up to Joker like some offering to an ancient god. “Look, Puddin’, I won so many tickets!”
It’s then the two lunatics notice your presence.
“Well, well, well,” Joker says as he pockets his ill-gotten tickets. “Not the costumed freak I was expecting.” He holds his hands up to his head. “You’re missing the ears and everything.”
The two laugh and you roll your eyes under your mask.
“Looks like Ol’ Batsy has a new brat in his nest,” she jokes. “So, who’re you?”
“Oh, Harley, his name doesn’t matter.” He pulls out his gun and points it at you. “He’ll just be another corpse.”
He fires the gun and this time, the bullet actually penetrates your armor and pierces your lower torso. You wince at the feeling of a bullet in your gut.
(It would appear the clown uses a higher caliber than the common scum of Gotham,) the Megamycete explains as it heals your body, stitching the wound closed and hardening your armor to repel the stronger bullets. (Funny how he possesses such toys after being in Arkham for so long.)
“Oh, you’re a tough one, aren’t you,” he says, seeing that you’re not going down. “Normally, his little birdies go down from just a little love tap. Are you sure you belong to Batman?”
Now that pisses you off. Bruce may have had a hand in bringing you into the world, but you’re not his. You’re so pissed, in fact, that you raise your right arm and call upon a long tendril that pierces the center of the clown’s chest and pull him towards you.
“Mistah J,” Harley shouts in fear as you bring Joker to your face. She’s obviously paralyzed by fear because she stands there, doing nothing but watching the scene unfold before her.
His pasty white chin is covered in blood as it pours from his mouth and his eyes are wide as saucers.
“Now ain’t that a surprise,” he says with a chuckle, causing him to cough up blood.
“Get this through your sick and twisted head, clown,” you hiss. “I’m not Batman’s anything. There’s no words in any language that can express how much I hate him.”
You twist the tendril and take pleasure in watching him wince in pain.
(He fears you more than the Bat right now. Good. You are far superior than that worm and his collection of misfits. You always were.)
You feel yourself grin at that. You are better than them, aren’t you?
“And as much as I hate to admit it, Jason was right on how to deal with you. When you have a tumor, you don’t dress up in some stupid costume and beat it until it stops being a tumor.” You lift him far above, his head almost touching the ceiling. He flails around, but your tendril holds him in place. “You take a knife and cut it out.”
And with that, your tendril sprouts dozens of smaller ones that burst through his body, rendering it full of holes that it looks like a blood soaked piece of Swiss cheese. Said tendrils twist around until what was once the Joker is reduced to chunks of meat.
“Mister J,” Harley shouts, her voice full of agony, as his remains fall to the floor, landing with a wet splat. She looks at the pile of flesh, tears streaming from her eyes before turning to you, her gaze full of hate. “You bastard!”
She charges at you, her mallet raised and ready to strike, but you wrap her in your tendril, stopping her advance and making her drop her weapon. She struggles and as she does, she lets out loud sobs; ones were intimately familiar with. You let out similar ones when you lost your Momma and over the years you’ve spent in Wayne Manor.
“You killed my Puddin’,” she weeps. “When Bats hears about this, he’ll hunt you down like a damn animal! And when you’re thrown in Arkham, I’ll be waiting for ya!”
(She has a point. Batman and his flock are already looking for you and when they learn you have killed the clown, they will make finding you their top priority; they will marshal every resource at their disposal to finding your identity. Even if she cannot provide them with your identity, she presents a risk to our secrecy.)
You ponder on this as you watch Harley struggle against her bindings, her sobs now filling the arcade. You know the Megamycete is right; she’s a loose end you can’t afford, especially when you’re so close to going home. Plus, you know with Joker gone, Harley has no one to control her and with how racked with grief over the loss of her “love,” she’s a huge risk to everyone on Gotham.
You decide the risks are too great and command a smaller tendril to emerge from the one holding Harley, have it wrap itself around her neck, and quickly snap it, the noise it makes ringing in your ears like a gunshot. You release her from your grip and she tumbles to the floor, lifeless.
(It had to be done,) it assures you. (She represented a threat not just to you, but to the rest of the city. There is no telling how many people would have been hurt the next time she broke free from the asylum’s confines. Plus, the influence of the clown would have stayed with her, even after his death. She would most likely never have returned to what she once was. The rest of her life would have been spent mourning over the clown, inflicting pain onto the innocent, and escaping from and being returned to the asylum. You showed her mercy.)
You hear the words and in some way, they make sense, but right now, you don’t feel like you showed mercy. You’ve heard of the Tragedy of Doctor Harleen Quinzel, everyone in Gotham has at one point or another; the story of a poor psychiatrist new to Arkham who had been prayed upon by a manipulative mass murderer, turning her into his demented partner in crime and cutting a bloody swath across Gotham every time they escaped, leaving behind many orphans, widows, and corpses in their wake. She had spent years listening to other people’s problems and for once, wanted someone to listen to her, to make her feel like she was important.
In many ways, you can relate. Maybe in another life, you two could’ve been friends, wallowing together in your shared misery.
Just then, you learn from the roots that the Bats have been informed of the Joker’s appearance and are now on their way here to capture hm, unaware that you’d already beaten them to the punch.
“Let’s go,” you say, moving quickly. “We’re done here.”
In no time flat, you’re back to your car and out of the area before the Bats showed up.
“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like we may have to take a rain check on that night out.)
(We understand. And you should not feel guilty because of your actions. It is thanks to you that not only many will be able to sleep peacefully in their beds, but many beyond this mortal realm will finally know peace. While many threats to Gotham remain, its largest one has finally been put down.)
“Yeah, I guess.”
(It is also worth noting that we have only been joined for a short time, you have accomplished much more than Batman has the last two decades.)
That actually makes you feel a little better. Yeah, Bruce has been doing this for years and Gotham’s still a hellhole. In the span of a singe night, you make it visibly more safer. And to top it all off, he’ll be racking his brain trying to find out who the hell killed him and he’ll have no idea it was you, his forgotten firstborn son.
“That does make me feel a little better. Thanks.”
“Ok, when you find out who did this, can you please tell me so I can end them a thank you card before you lock em up,” Jason says as they watch what remains of the Joker being collected into a large evidence bag by GCPD while Harley’s body is placed on a gurney and covered by a sheet before being wheeled out.
“You know, I hate to say it,” Jim says as he dismisses a detective. “But I think this is going to make the city way safer. Hell, the mayor may want to offer whoever did this a key to the city.”
“It doesn’t matter if all crime in Gotham stops because of this,” Bruce responds. “It was done the wrong way and when I find out who did this, I’ll deliver them to Arkham myself. I’ll take Joker’s remains back to the Batcave, see if I can find any clues on the identity of his killer. I’ll give them back to you along with my findings.”
“Thanks,” the police commissioner responds as he takes the bag from a forensic investigator and hands it to him.
“Come on, B,” Jason whines as they leave the arcade. “Joker was a piece of shit and it was only gonna end with his death. Whoever this person is, do they really deserve to rot in Arkham over someone like him?”
“Whoever this person is, they took the law into their hands.”
“Pot meet kettle,” Jason mutters, but Bruce doesn’t acknowledge the remark.
“And this person clearly has powers. If they go off the deep end, there’s no telling what will happen. We need to find them before something happens and someone gets hurt.”
Finding this person just became their top priority.
This is it, the night you’ve been waiting for: graduation. It’s funny, when you first woke up this morning, you could feel every second of the day tick as you waited for the graduation ceremony. The only thing that made the time go by fast was you thinking about the conversation you overheard in the kitchen this morning.
Bruce and Tim talking about spending the day at their computers, analyzing every camera feed in Amusement Mile to look for whoever killed Joker. You had to bite your tongue to keep you from laughing. Here you are, the person they’re chomping at the bit to catch, and they have no idea you’re in the other room. You should be happy that they finally want something to do with you, but you know it’s only because you sent Joker to hell, something Bruce should’ve done years ago.
And when you heard that Tim was skipping the graduation ceremony to aid in patrolling? You immediately did a cartwheel down the hall. Not only will you finally be free from Gotham, but you won’t have to share the spotlight with Tim and risk catching their attention, though they probably would’ve had no idea who you were. Alfred tried to get Tim to reconsider getting Bruce to attend, but when those two are obsessing over something, it’s impossible to tear them away from it. The butler tried to tell Bruce that he had another son graduating, but the man left before the sentence could be complete, stating he had work to do.
At this point, it doesn’t even phase you. You know they’ve practically forgotten your existence and you couldn’t care less. You have everything you need to go back home and start your new life, you don’t need them for anything.
“Master Y/N, are you sure you don’t want me to call master Bruce and have him attend your graduation,” the butler fusses over your cap and gown for the umpteenth time. “As you father, he should be here to see one of the most important moments in your life.”
“It’s fine, Alfred, I don’t need him here. Frankly, with the way he’s acted over the years, I’m glad he’s not here. Same with Tim.”
The butler looks at you and you grimace at your remark. Ever since becoming the Megamycete’s host, you’ve noticed changes in your behavior. Where once you use to keep comments like that to yourself, you know say them in front of Alfred, unafraid for his reaction. Or how you use to always speak in a barely audible whisper for fear of being overheard by the Waynes, now you talk to Alfred at a volume that could easily attract unwanted attention. And you’re certain he’s noticed your change, too. God knows that man is aware of everything that goes on in his house.
(It is because you no longer have that fear. Before, you were a timid little thing, afraid of being seen by a predator lying in wait. Now? You are the hunter. They can’t hurt you anymore.)
Alfred opens his mouth to day something, but one of the teachers calls for all seniors to make their way to the field, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. He heads to the stands while you follow your fellow seniors to the field where you’re herded in alphabetical order. Once the teacher was satisfied with the order, she typed on her phone and the graduation music started playing from the speakers at the top of the stands.
As you follow in line, you look up to see Alfred in the front row, holding his phone up, no doubt intending to take several pictures and record just as many videos. You smile at the man, thankful to have him here on this important night. It’s then you think about your Momma and how she’d be cheering for you so hard, everyone could hear her. You feel something slide down your face and realize you’re crying. This is an important day in your life and you’re missing an important person in your life.
(She would be so proud of you. If your memories are anything indication of her character, she would give anything to be here right now. While the butler can never replace her, he is an acceptable stand-in.)
“Yeah,” you whisper as you take your seat near the front of the stage set up in the middle of the field. “He is. And I’m gonna miss him like hell.”
While you’re overjoyed to leave Gotham in your rear view and never step foot in it ever again, you’ll really miss Alfred. The man has been your rock since day one, celebrating your birthday which also happens to be the day of your Momma’s death. He held you while you cried and was your only company in the lonely halls of Wayne Manor.
Maybe you can hire him as your butler? Your smaller house would no doubt be much easier to clean than that behemoth of a mansion. Plus, Alfred is way more than people like the Waynes deserve.
After an eternity, the valedictorian finishes his speech and takes his place at up front, which is when the headmaster walks up to the podium and begins to call the students to come up and receive their diplomas. With each name called, you feel chest begin to tighten. This is the first time in years that so many eyes will be on you. What if you fall flat on your face while walking? Or try to shake the headmaster’s hand with your left instead of your right? Or—
(Relax,) the Megamycete says, bringing you out of your thoughts. (All will be fine. When your name is called, you will rise, walk with a level of pride none of your peers could ever hope to match, accept your diploma with such grace the headmaster will b in total awe, and walk back to your seat with the same pride as before. You are better than any of these children and you will make them know it.)
Hearing those words instantly makes you relax, your the knot that had been building up in your chest untangling, allowing you to breathe again.
“Thanks,” you say, taking a much needed deep breath. “Glad to know you think so highly of me.”
(We speak only the truth. We have seen the lives and memories of countless people over the past four centuries and not a single one holds a candle to you. You possess much potential and now that we are joined, we know you will unleash that potential and the entire world will be in awe of it.)
Wow. You actually have no idea how to respond to that.
(Pay attention, now. You will be called soon.)
It’s then you realize the headmaster is now on the Fs, almost to the Gs.
There’s three people ahead of you.
Then two.
Then one.
Then…
“Y/N Gould.”
This is it, your biggest moment in Gotham Academy. You stand up and walk with the grace the Megamycete said you would, accept your diploma from the headmaster with your left hand and shake with your right, and walk back to your seat. As you do, you see Alfred, a smile stretched across his face and cheering your name as he continues to hold his phone, probably recording a video just before your name was called.
(Excellent, Y/N,) the Megamycete praises as you sit back down. (We offer our most sincere congratulations on your triumph.)
You stare down at the piece of paper down in your hands and you while the evidence is right there in black and white, it still doesn’t feel real. You’re actually in awe of the fancy kind of paper Gotham Academy uses to print its diplomas, with its Coleen gilded edges, bold ink, beautiful calligraphy, and soft feel.
Hell, Alfred may fight you to keep it so he can frame it and mount it somewhere in Wayne Manor.
After that, the rest of the ceremony seems to speed up, the last of the names being called, the headmaster deeming all of you graduates of Gotham Academy, and the graduating class being told to gather behind the chairs for the moment every senior looks forward to: the Cap Throw. You follow your fellow graduates with bated breath, eager to throw your cap and complete your graduation experience.
“On three,” the valedictorian yells from the center of the crowd. “One! Two! Three!”
You eagerly toss your cap with everyone else, your cheers and laughs joining everyone else’s. You watch with joy as the caps soar above you all and begin to float back down to the field, your eyes tracking your cap, which you had decorated with paintings (the Megamycete allowing you to make them flawlessly) of the team you beat Cynthia from Pokémon Platinum with: Infernape, Luxray, Staraptor, Floatzel, Lucario, and Garchomp (you had no idea so many used the same team before you discovered the internet).
You collect you cap while so many try to find theirs and had towards the exit to meet Alfred.
“Congratulations, my boy,” he greets you, his wide smile still adorning his face, before bringing you into a tight hug.
“Than you, Alfred,” you respond, returning the hug.
When you separate, he flags down a passing man. “Pardon me, sir, would you be so kind as to take a picture of the two of us?”
“Sure,” the man says, taking his phone and aiming at you and taking the picture.
“Thank you, good sir,” the butler says as he takes his phone back.
He types on his phone and not even a second later, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket beneath your gown, indicating he sent you the picture.
“I’m so proud of you, Master Y/N. You’ve certainly earned this.”
“Thank you, Alfred. And not just for this, but for everything.”
You two leave the field and he follows you to the gym so you can return your gown and once you do, you two make your way to your car, which is when you realize this is the part of the evening where you two say your goodbyes and you leave for Goodsprings while he returns to Wayne Manor. And the sweet moment you’ve been waiting years for now turns bittersweet. You’ve looked forward to this moment ever since you started high school and while you’re ecstatic to finally leave this godforsaken city, you hate that you have to leave Alfred behind.
“Master Y/N,” he says, breaking the tense silence. “I know you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, but do you have to leave right now? Maybe your return to Nevada can wait until morning? You really shouldn’t be driving so late.”
“We can put it off for as long as we want, still won’t change the outcome.”
“I know,” the poor man sighs. “But still, it’s over forty hours from here to Goodsprings.”
“I’ll be fine, Alfred. Really. I’ll be super careful. I’ll stop at a motel a few hours from here, take regular breaks, stop at restaurants to eat, and I’ll be there before you know it and in one piece.”
“I just wish I could convince you to stay. I’ll miss you, terribly. The manor won’t be the same without you.”
“I’ll miss you, too, Alfred.”
You two pull each other into another hug.
“Promise me that you’ll call me if you run into any trouble, be it on the road or in Nevada.”
“I will.”
“And that you’ll try to visit whenever you can. I’ll arrange for Master Bruce’s jet to come and get you, you just say the word.”
“I’ll try.”
You’re lying. You’re lying and both of you know it. But, neither of you bring it up.
“And promise me you’ll take care of yourself. I didn’t raise you for over ten years just for you to end up in the hospital just because you didn’t feed yourself.”
“I will,” you laugh. You know he’s joking, he taught you everything he knows about cooking, cleaning, and housekeeping. That, combined with the Megamycete’s records, you have everything you need to keep your house together.
“I just wish your father and siblings were here.” You just did manage to fight off the flinch at the mention of those assholes. “This is an important moment of your life and they should be here to celebrate it with you.”
“I know you do, Alfred,” you respond, thankful that you’re still hugging so he can’t see the face you’re making at the thought of them being here, insulting you and making you feel like graduating somehow made you feel like a failure.
Finally, you two pull apart and with one last goodbye and promise to be careful, you get into your car, the backseat covered by boxes that couldn’t be placed in the trunk. When you woke up this morning, you packed your computer, video games, books, and other things that you refused to leave behind at Wayne Manor, your Momma’s pen sitting in your pocket as you refused to part with it. Sure, there were some things were left behind and while Alfred told you repeatedly he could arrange for them to be delivered to your house, you told him that anything you left behind wasn’t important and could be thrown away.
You didn’t leave much behind, some stuff like a few books you hadn’t read in years, a bunch of notebook paper with stupid ideas for video games that you had years and threw away when you realized no one in their right mind would play them, and an old journal you kept when you first move to Gotham. You archived every major event leading up to Damian’s arrival in those pages, which is when you finally filled it up. You briefly thought about keeping it, but decided against it. You had your stay at Wayne Manor burned into your memory and weren’t eager to have been more reminders around you. Plus, you’re about to start your new life, so there’s no need to carry it around. Maybe you can start keeping a new journal?
You start up your car, put it into reverse, and when you backed up enough, put it into drive and wave at Alfred as you leave the parking lot and follow your GPS to Goodsprings. That’s when your phone finally connects to your radio and starts playing music, Hollow from FFVII Remake, playing at just the right volume.
“Wow,” you chuckle as the music begins. “Talk about great timing.”
(We agree. This song is about heading into the unknown with hope; perfect for the start of your new life. It is as if fate itself is smiling down upon you.)
“Seems like it. You with me, buddy?”
(Every step of the way. Until the very end.)
And with that, you pick up speed as you get onto the interstate.
Alfred watches you drive off and only when you’re out of sight does he finally shed a tear. To see Master Y/N leave is one of the most difficult moments of his life.
He understands, of course. Not only did you leave much behind after the tragic and unexpected loss of your mother, but Master Wayne and the children had given you zero reasons to stay. In fact, they’d given you a million reasons to leave.
But he can’t let you go. Not his favorite member of the family.
He’d never admit it to anyone, but out of everyone in the Wayne Family, he cared for you the most. You were raised by a wonderful, loving woman who knew how to properly raise a child and didn’t skulk about at night, battling with criminals night after night. You had a normal life and knew what life was like outside of being a vigilante, bringing a much needed balance to the manor.
You were a delight to raise, always saying please and thank you, offering to help around the manor, and carrying on pleasant conversations that were the highlight of his day. And if the family would take the time to get to know you, they’d come to the same conclusion he did many years ago.
However, as brilliant as everyone in the family is, they can also be equally foolish. Too wrapped up in their civilian and vigilante lives to see the gift they had been given, but spurred for years. And now, you’re gone.
But not for long. You belong here, with your family, and by God he’ll make sure you know it, your father knows it, and your siblings know it. One way or another, he’ll bring your father to his senses, and when that day comes, he’ll make him go to you and beg for your forgiveness, even if he has to get on his hands and knees. And after that, your father will bring you back home, where you’ll be lavished in the love they should’ve shown you from the beginning.
He’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back home, where you belong. He doesn’t care what he has to do or how long it takes, he’ll make sure you come back to the place where you belong. And when you, you’ll be showered with so much love that you’ll never want to leave ever again.
A/N: I got lucky this week. I was going to have 4 tests this week (2 regular tests and 2 midterms), but a professor I have for two classes got sick and cancelled, pushing the tests for next Monday and Tuesday. With only one midterm left and a study guide basically matching the test, I had plenty of free time to make this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it!
Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @starsdotalk @luna57765 @jsprien213 @lizz-lrm @chericia @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @meechibee @bellethesleepypotato @exactlynumberonekryptonite @marsmabe @ellaprime7
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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PRT.7
07 : APOLOGIES & COMFORT
CHPT. SUM. : sirius and remus are both very stubborn and need you to help them make amends, thankfully james is there
REQUEST. : could i request a hurt/comfort blurb with poly!marauders in the heroes in tattoos series where r is having really bad cramps and they comfort her- maybe when they're busy with clients and she doesn't want to disturb them but they notice? - requested by an anon (i had to make some tweaks, i hope you don't mind, my darling)
TAGS. : modern au, muggle au, tattoo artist!sirius black ; tattoo artist!james potter ; piercer!remus lupin ; hurt/comfort ; fluff ; mvp james ; james becomes a menace though so is he really the mvp? ; wolfstar fluff ; making up ; reader is also an mvp ; accidents happen ; period things~ ; remus is on the brink ; somebody save this man! ; no! somebody save reader from this man! ; assumes that reader does not take medication to regulate her periods ; assumes that reader wears sanitary pads for her periods
LENGTH : 4.3k
← PREV. : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES | SERIES M.LIST
“Sirius…” Remus sighs as he sits across from you and the man in question.
“If you have a problem, I hope you know that I don’t care,” you feel the tattooist smirk against your temple as he presses another searing kiss into your skin. The tension from the room hasn’t fully dissipated yet, however, most of the fiction was swept aside leaving the air clear enough for a more civil conversation.
With Sirius’ insistence, you were left no choice but to sit in his lap as Remus sits across from you. This left James to sit all on his lonesome, occupying the grandfather chair to your left as a warm smile reveals his asymmetrical dimple, directed solely at you.
Remus groans in frustration and stands to his full height in order to pull his sleeveless sweater off. Sirius peppers light kisses along the column of your neck but it isn’t quite enough to distract you from the image of Remus undoing the top buttons of his button-up shirt nor the way he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows - a weak attempt at trying to cool down from the heat of the previous encounter.
You’re tempted to look down once again but are too embarrassed to do so; the images that pervade your mind are too inappropriate and they taint the gentle and kind image you have of Remus… Although, maybe that isn’t too bad. A gentle giant masking an indelicate second face was quite attractive in your eyes. Maybe he’ll finally suit the rouge-ish image that comes to mind when you take in his many tattoos, which were often suppressed by his soft, dark academia-inspired fashion.
Massaging away some of the tension in his taut wrists, his large and veiny hands on full display, Remus sits back down with a frown, “This is a fucking mess—”
“—you’re a fucking mess,” Sirius shoots back, a mischievous hint in his tone as the heat in your cheeks continue to increase until you’re positive you have steam steadily rising out of your ears.
“This is serious, Sirius,” Remus calls his name almost mockingly and the icy stare Sirius sends him in return is so icy you feel the chill run down your spine without having to look.
“Oh, I am serious, don’t you know who I am?” before the tension could rise to dangerous levels again, you launch yourself off of Sirius’ lap, willing the butterflies from your stomach away and suppressing all imagery of the affection Sirius was just drowning you. It was his attempt at distracting you from the tense situation but you’re fed up of it now. It also breaks your heart seeing them like this when you know their true affections for one another.
“That’s enough!” you stand as strong as the finality ringing in your statement, “you two need to make up!” Remus and Sirius face the point of your accusing finger with disgruntled expressions, “I thought you two loved each other,” your disappointed tone makes their shoulders sag in shame and their eyes avoid one another’s.
“Dove, please—”
“—Listen…” the careful intonation in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed and wills them to hear you out with care, lips sealed shut, “you were both right — you both had good reason to act the way you did and I can’t blame either of you for wanting to steer things into a certain direction but I’m also to blame for this, okay? I was horrible at communicating my true emotions and that led to a lot of unnecessary heartache on both sides,” with a deep breath, you establish your resolve, “can’t we all just make up and move forward together?” everyone in the room knows that when you said ‘we’, what you really meant was just Remus and Sirius.
James has been an absolute angel throughout all of this, collateral damage to their bickering and unloving behaviour towards each other; stuck between a rock and a hard place. You only have sympathy for him being caught up in the middle of it all.
“Dove, it’s not—”
You swiftly interrupt, “I love all of you,” your confession makes them all stutter and flush pink in the cheeks. It’s an image that makes you smile warmly just before insecurity creeps over and your smile turns shy, “don’t… don’t you love me too?…” it was now clear in their actions that they reciprocated your romantic affections and so you weren’t wrong to assume that they wanted you to take part in their relationship…right?
The drawn out silence that followed was too much for you to bear. Even after taking some of the blame off their shoulders and confessing your love, they were still too stubborn to admit their wrongs and make up. Huffing, you make your disappointment and frustrations known with a deep frown, thoroughly concealing your heartache from their silence .
“We just need—” Sirius finally begins, stubborn as ever, only to be glared at harshly by both, Remus and James. This was not the right time for excuses. You had just worded your true feelings for them and they needed to reciprocate in kind. But those words were hard to come by, the timing for a confession also wasn’t ideal for the moment. Then again, when would it ever be. They’ve all just proven how incompetent they were at emotions despite being in such a loving relationship, and yet, you were still willing to accept and be with them romantically. The words they have for you reached beyond that of just love; they were also grateful, astonished and embarrassed for their incompetence.
“I love you too, angel, so so much,” James finally speaks up, eyes bright and his smile warm with his adoration of you. He ignores the high tension in the room, eyes fixed solely on you as he glowed like the summer sun but he doesn’t reach out for you in any way, he simply sits and admires. Admires how beautiful you look, admires how strong you are, admires how loving and sweet you remain despite all the trouble and anguish they’ve put you through.
You feel the world disappear around you and narrow your focus onto the only person you were grateful for in the room at that moment. Year heart pounds with warmth and devotion and all you want to do is be close to him. Helping yourself into James’ lap, you smile up at the bewildered look on this handsome face, “Oh James, you’re my only saving grace,”
James smiles at your words as his arms wrap around your waist, securing you in place, “yeah?” his voice is a faint whisper and airy with his adoration for you.
“Yeah,” reaching up, your arms wrap around his neck and pull him close so you can press your face under his chin. Behind you, you feel the baffled attention of Sirius and Remus, “how about I feed you some lunch again? Like we always used to do?”
Without waiting for an answer, you lean over to swipe up one of your lunch containers and proceed to feed him, completely ignoring the grumbling and whining emitting from Sirius and Remus.
“I like your thinking, angel,” James giggles adorably and happily accepts your affections as the two of you silently agree to ignore the other two until they make up. In the mean time, you’ll enjoy each other’s company in your own little bubble of love.
“How does it taste?” you ask sweetly, blatantly ignoring Remus and Sirius, sitting side-ways on James’ lap but keeping your full attention on him.
“Delicious! More than delicious!” James exaggerates and basks in the bell-like giggles he draws from you, he doesn’t want the sound to ever stop, “You’re always such a great cook, angel!”
“I made it all with love, just for you, Jamie~”
He hums low and appreciative, “I’m so fucking lucky, aren’t I?”
As you continue to feed him, James takes the opportunity to look over your shoulder and smirk at the miserable faces of his two lovers. They know they deserved this unfair treatment. They also know that, to remedy it, all they have to do is abandon their pride and apologise, which is always worth it when your love is on the line — it should be easy for them. All things considered, this was just light punishment.
Faced with only one solution, Remus and Sirius turn to each other. Sirius still grumbles under his breath as Remus sighs. The brunette accepts that it was entirely his fault for pushing Sirius to suppress his natural way of loving just for his own personal fear that things would turn out horribly, otherwise. And judging from the way Sirius avoids his eyes and continues to whine, Remus knows it’s up to him to make amends.
‘But it’s not so bad’, Remus smiles to himself; seeing one of his beloved partners grumpy and stubborn was oddly charming. And now that most of the conflict has dissolved, Remus had no other reason to hold back an apology other than for his own personal pride.
Making his way over, Remus kneels down beside his grumbling lover and whispers his name affectionately, “Sirius,” Remus waits, patient and unhurried, until his beloved in question finally looks at him. As soon as they meet eyes, Remus is left thinking the same devoted thought he’s always had when drowning in his boyfriend’s diamond-grey eyes, ‘how did I get so lucky?’ which is then quickly followed by a guilty, ‘why did I ever let it get this far?’
“Remus,”
“I’m sorry,” the piercer doesn’t wait for a response and, almost desperately, leans up to capture Sirius’ lips. The kiss is filled with emotions, a mix of sincerity, love and forgiveness. The sentiments were so keen they almost smother the murmured, unspoken words on Sirius’ tongue, “what was that, love?” Remus asks against his lover’s lips, unable to pull away fully. He missed this…
“I’m sorry too…”
It was a unanimous decision to have you spend the night at the boys’ shared flat. They’ve been kept away from you for too long and tonight they wanted to make up for lost time. High on emotions and desperately missing their presence in your life too, you agree as long as you dropped by your place first for a change of clothes. But not before having Remus and Sirius apologise to James for their neglect of him.
“You know, we really are so happy to have you in our lives, dollface,” Sirius utters, leaving feathery kisses on your lips as he pushes the door to their flat open whilst carrying your duffle bag for you. He was kind enough to take you to and from your flat on his motorcycle just for the quick collection of your night time essentials.
“I’m happy you’re in my life too, Siri,” the situation has finally dawned on you but you still can’t believe the events that have lead you to this very moment.
“Stop hogging her, Padfoot!” James whines, sweeping you off your feet and hurrying to the living room with you in his arms. Once there, he sits you on his lap triumphantly, “Aha! You’re finally mine!” he cheers and attacks your neck with a flourish of kisses, tickling you and infecting the air with your melodic giggles.
“Now you’re hogging her Prongs, stop being a hypocrite!” Sirius pants lightly after rushing to the scene from the hallway, a grin plastered on his lips despite his accusing words.
From the kitchen, Remus smiles to himself at the sounds of merriment in the air and continues to cook dinner.
This is how it should be…
Remus wanted to sort the conflict with Sirius out more, so he insisted that you spend the night in James’ bed which you happily agree shyly, James grinning widely at your side. All three of you agree as Sirius whines and makes adorable grabbing motions at you but it’s no use as Remus keeps the tattooist pressed tightly against his side, dragging him off and trapping him in his room for the night. The sight made you giggle but it was a brief reprieve from the anxious nerves that soon had you avoiding James’ eyes.
“You’re so cute,” James whispers affectionately at your shy behaviour, resisting the urge to kiss you as he leads you to his room and gestures to his en suite, “you can change in there, beautiful, I can change out here and brush my teeth at the kitchen sink instead,”
With a small smile, you move past him with your duffle, eager to get ready for bed but squeal in surprise when you feel a teasing pinch at your ass. An explosion of heat blooms across your cheeks when you glance over your shoulder and observe James’ sly wink and devious smirk directed at you.
“James—!”
“Angel with a cutest ass, aren’t I a lucky bastard?” he chuckles and presses a devoted, almost possessive, kiss onto your lips, “I never did say thank you for making those two apologise to me,” he purrs and nips at your bottom lip, “you make me feel seen…god, I love you so much,” you squeak into the fierce kiss that follows, almost losing yourself in the embrace but pry yourself away with a squeal when his hands travel too low and squeeze greedily at your ass.
You rush into the bathroom with butterflies in your stomach as James licks his lips and laughs merrily. He’s come to love teasing you and you didn’t know whether to argue or welcome it with open arms. Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you move on to change into your pyjamas - an oversized shirt and shorts - before proceeding with your night time skincare routine. For a moment, you contemplated taking a shower but rule against it, not wanting to prolong your night time routine. No more than fifteen minutes later, you were out of the en suite bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for bed but giggle at the sight of James already tucked under the covers. He looks so cosy and innocent, it almost makes you forget about his devious behaviour earlier on.
“All ready?” James asks with his usual boyish grin and sits up, allowing the covers to drop from his chest, at which point you quickly realise that James is a liar. He didn’t need to change into anything! All he did was take off his shirt and he was all set for bed! “I changed into comfier pyjama pants, though,” he argues lightly as you slip into the right side of the bed.
“That’s just half changing!” your retort has him laughing aloud, your flustered state beyond amusing and incredibly adorable in his eyes.
“Am I making you shy, princess?~”
“…No,”
“Oh yes I am~”
“Go to sleep, James,”
“Not without a goodnight kiss from my angel,” he leans over you with his naked chest on full display and you stutter in embarrassment, “don’t be shy, come and give me a fat smooch~” he puckers his lips above you and awaits your compliance with closed eyes.
“James—”
“I’m a very patient man, darling, I can do this all night long,”
“No you’re not,”
“Yes I am,”
“You’re not,”
“I am,”
“Not!”
He finally peaks an eye open. Then slowly opens both eyes as he un-puckers his lips to smirk down at you, caged in between his muscular arms as he props himself up with his elbows, “You just like staring at my beautifully muscular chest don’t you?” you watch as his ego inflates to dangerous levels right in front of you, “My tattoos turn you on too, angel?~”
“Oh for goodness sake!” you finally relent and lean upwards, your smile matching his own when you finally capture his lips in his much desired, goodnight kiss. With one arm holding himself up, James uses his spare hand to hold your face in place, prolonging the kiss. You have no choice but to accept his needy demands as your hand searches his bedside table for his lamp switch.
Morning comes with you groaning in discomfort as a syrupy wetness coats your inner thighs and painful pangs make you want to curl up into a ball. Your bleary morning fog makes the situation difficult to decipher but the realisation soon comes crashing down like a landslide and you lift the covers with a scream, the scent of iron becoming more potent. Beside you, James jumps awake, fully alert as his worried, hazel eyes scan you, trying to discern what may be the problem.
“What’s wrong, angel?” he asks, voice deep and groggy with sleep but dripping in concern.
“James, I’m so sorry,” you sob into your hands and curl up into yourself, hiding your face away from him.
“What do you mean?” he reaches forward, inching closer to you in the process and quickly realising what’s wrong when he feels an unusual wetness seep through his thin pyjama pants, “oh angel, don’t be upset, it’s okay,” he coos, gently prying your hands away from your face so he can kiss your forehead tenderly, “it’s normal. Are you okay?” he asks softly, looking over you without an ounce of judgement or anger on his face, only concern and soft, kind, heart-fluttering love in his eyes.
“Th-the blood—”
“I don’t care about the blood,” he insists gently, “I just want to make sure that you’re okay,” you remain silent from the embarrassment but he’s understanding, “do you want me to get you some painkillers?”
As soon as you give an affirming nod, he’s out of bed and hurrying down the hall. It doesn’t take very long for him to come back to you, a glass of water in one hand and a pack of painkillers in the other.
“Thank you,” you finally utter with a small smile, still upset at having ruined the sheets but so incredibly grateful for his tolerance. Patiently, he waits for you to take your dosage before he’s sweeping you up in his arms and carrying you into his en suite.
“Get cleaned up, angel,” he voices into you hair before placing you back on your feet, “I’ll change the sheets in the mean time,” he leaves you with a kiss before you could utter another word of apology. He wasn’t going to take it, he made that very clear, because it wasn’t your fault. And it was nothing a little oxi stain remover couldn’t fix.
The start to the day wasn’t ideal but James, Remus and Sirius made one of the most agonising and frustrating times of the month for you much more enjoyable. James woke his two lovers up while you were showering in his bathroom, thanking your lucky stars that you bought a spare change of clothes just in case you wanted to shower, and they all made the effort of getting you comfortable.
James changed his bedsheets and laid a dark coloured towel down for you to lay on top of just to catch any more potential leakage. He made sure you didn’t see his bloodied sheets again too so that you wouldn’t continue feeling guilty and happily took care of the stains away from your line of sight. Sirius worked on breakfast as Remus made you some tea and a hot water bottle and, before James steps out of the flat to buy you period pads, you hear Remus call out helpfully, “look for the long, heavy flow pads and make sure to get the ones with wings,” their thoughtfulness makes you smile.
“How did you know to get these ones?” you ask when James comes back, panting as he hands you the pack of pads through the door of his en suite.
“Remus told me, and I heard girls experience heavier flows on the first few days,” his answer draws out a proud smile. You have no doubt you’d be well taken care of in this relationship, though it does make you bashful.
“Thank you, James,”
For breakfast Sirius cooked you french toast with strawberries and honey, apparently it was the only good thing he could cook. Remus balanced the sweetness of the meal out with some eggs and toast, while James brought over the tea and hot water bottle Remus had also prepared. Breakfast was pleasant but they boys were insistent that you stay in James’ bed and call if you needed anything. As much as they wanted to spend the full day right by your side, they were preparing to make the announcement of returning their business into full operations and were still taking calls and responding to client emails at home. You didn’t argue, you knew the shop was important to them so you didn’t want to be a burden.
The day drags by and you know they’ve made it clear that you could freely call out to them whenever but the hours drag by and they haven’t heard a single peep. They didn’t mean to lose their full attention in their work; it’s been so long since they were last filled with the motivation to keep up with their business that emails and paperwork on equipment orders had piled up significantly so they were swamped. Thankfully they were finally inspired enough that the work didn’t feel laborious. Unfortunately, that meant seeing them in their element though James’ open doorway and shying away from redirecting their attention back to you.
It wasn’t until you willed yourself to walk to their kitchen that you finally caught their attention. All phone calls, email responses and paperwork filing was stopped as soon as you stepped into their line of sight when your craving for a snack became too much. They had gone for a quick shop to buy you an array of snacks from sweet to savoury that morning and had left the bag on their kitchen counter. You were just reaching for the bag when Remus caught your wrist and swept you up into his arms in order to carry you back into James’ bed.
All three of them felt incredibly guilty for having neglected you, unintentional or not, they even neglected themselves in the process by prioritising their work and forgetting about lunch. In Remus’ head, everything circled back to the night before as a chain of linked events. As you laid in bed, curled up and nibbling on a chocolate bar, you watch and listen as Remus scolds the two about how, if the outburst didn’t happen, they wouldn’t have asked you to stay the night, you wouldn’t have agreed and you wouldn’t have had to suffer from their incompetent care. Remus was being too hard on himself, which reflected directly onto Sirius and James.
“This is why I said we needed to be careful and. To. Be. Patient,” Remus snarls under his breath, almost growling at Sirius and James who stand at the foot of the bed. James nods with a disappointed sigh as Sirius crosses his arms and huffs in defiance. They’re developing a bad habit of speaking about you when you’re still in the same room but, at least, it means their thoughts are open to you.
“I didn’t see you complain when you watched James and I practically devouring her sweet little mouth yesterday,” Sirius’ challenging comment makes the tips of James’s ears turn visibly pink as an embarrassing heat climbs up your neck to bloom across the apples of your cheeks. Interestingly, James can barks and bites to his heart’s content with you but if anybody else brings it up, it seems that bashfulness isn’t far behind.
Remus shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, “don’t start now, Sirius—”
“—I-I don’t mind, we’re all learning to love together and I know how important the tattoo parlour is to all of you so I really don’t mind…” you interrupt their bickering with flushed cheeks and shy eyes, unprepared for the reaction you would receive.
Remus snaps his full attention towards you in that moment. Your words were innocent and you look the picture of virtue, shy and sweet as you peer up at them with glittering doe eyes and a small smile. Remus doesn’t think anybody else could be more beautiful than you right now. You appreciate his passions, you support it even, you’re understanding, you’re kind, you’re loving, you’re sweet and you’re so incredibly lovable, he wants to keep you away from the rest of the world forever, selfishly keeping you for himself. He wonders if you know how much of a tease you’ve been to him this whole, working him up over and over and over again until he finally snaps.
Morals and patience be damned — he can’t resist you anymore.
Remus’ face carries an unreadable expression as he gives a slow exhale and strides over to you. Sirius and James watch from where they stood, unmoving but with sly smiles on their lips — they know you’re the perfect image of Remus’ weaknesses bundled into one being and they both knew this was coming. It was about time… they applaud him though, he has more patience than them — but he had more desires too.
It all happens too fast for you to register but Remus was quickly looming over you, propped up by a hand on the bed as his other gripped at your chin. His eyes were piercing and held such promise within them, un-breaking and passionate, that you couldn’t look away.
“Don’t tempt me, beautiful girl,” his voice lowers several octaves and is underpinned by a hypnotising vibration that corrupts your limbs with minor tremors and a ferocious heat. Shamelessly, he captures your lips in a soft and tender kiss, an antithesis to the dark gleam in his feral eyes, “I’m not above making a mess in the bedroom,” you gasp at the implication and, for a moment, your cramps become pleasantly arousing. Again, Remus can’t help but hold your lips hostage in an increasingly impassioned embrace. He greedily eats up your pretty moans, the muffled sounds going straight to his groin and making his smart trousers uncomfortably tight — a prickling warning to his precarious conduct, “so be a good girl and sit pretty until after you get over this, okay?” he utters roughly against your lips.
He’ll wait just a little bit longer…it’ll be worth it.
NAVI. | SERIES M.LIST | NEXT : TONIGHT →
A/N : goodness me, this was so much harder to write than previous chapters, i kept changing so many things but i think i'm satisfied with the final product, i hope you darlings do too~ the next chapter will be a pretty big one i think, so i won't be posting it for a while, however, i may post short additional imagines/scenarios for this series that don't necessarily follow the chronological order just to satiate some of you XD anywho~ i hope you darlings enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the next one
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#poly marauders x reader#poly marauders#poly marauders x you#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#remus x reader#sirius x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x you#james potter x you#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#HIT series#heroes in tattoos series#series : Heroes in Tattoos#series : HIT#marauders fanfiction#marauders x reader#marauders#marauders x you#marauders fic#the marauders#sirius black fic#james potter fic#remus lupin fic
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Just a friendly reminder that if you see my often used Krampus design in the wild uncredited to please be super chill when calling it out! It is usually a case of people thinking it is a vintage copyright free clip art piece and being kind about it helps me have a more successful, pleasant encounter. I modeled this illustration to look like an old Gruss Vom Krampus postcard and I guess it is a little too successful.
Now I don't want to make an excuse for the folks tracing the piece without acknowledging the source but a lot of non artists slap it on stuff and are most likely under the impression it is not a modern illustration. It’s been around since 2009 and used to be a source of anxiety seeing it used so much around this time of year but it's something I have made peace with ( also I'm just very tired lol) Looking back, most people who did accidentally use it ended up being decent and pleasant to deal with so that's pretty cool....
I’m glad that it’s seemed to have have a lot of influence on Krampus depictions and has sort of snuck into being accepted as this authentic antique artwork. It would be nice to see my name attached to all of the posts that use him but much like many other online artists, sometimes a dumb thing you made just gets out from under you and fighting it is like fighting the sea. A sea of clippty cloppity, long tongued naughty goat men! Anyway if you want me to get paid for this illustration you can buy the shirt here: https://shirt.woot.com/offers/greetings-from-krampus
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✦ Aegon ii Targaryen NSFW alphabet ✦
My modern Aegon’s parents are Rhaenyra and Alicent and he’s bisexual <3
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
If you’re in a relationship he can be very affectionate. Making sure you are well taken care of after intense sex or even just getting water and a snack after gentle sex because he can get pretty hungry after it himself. It’s hard work.
However if you’re just a casual hookup he’s not nearly as concerned. He’s confident in himself enough to know you are satisfied after all is said and done but he’s a bit of a dickhead. He’ll give you a sloppy kiss and a pat on the ass as a goodbye but that’s about it. You’ll know he had a good time if he leaves you his number before heading out the door.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Honestly, his cock. He loves how you look taking it and how you moan when he pushes it in for the first time. He’s also a big fan of when you praise it specifically ‘your cock feels so good aegon’ ‘your dick is so pretty’ etc.
When it comes to a partner he’s an equal opportunist when it comes to tits and ass. He loves to suck on tits until they are dripping with his saliva and to watch them bounce as you ride him. For your ass he’s a big believer in smacking in and outside of the bedroom, as well as gripping it while he pounds into you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)
He’s open to cumming wherever you want him to but he’s a big fan of cumming on you. Your ass, your tits, your face, you name a part of your body and he will cum on it. What can he say, he’s always been artistic and painting you with his cum is no exception.
D = Dirty Secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
He wants to be pegged desperately. He’s fucked many guys before but he’s never loved bottoming as much as topping.
But the idea of you in a cute little lingerie getup and strap-on railing him while you sing sweet praises in his ears? That’s a whole other story. He’s jerked off to the idea many night in a row but he hasn’t quite gotten the courage yet to ask you. Maybe someday soon.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Let’s face it Aegon is a slut. You think of gender a identity and he has been with them more than once and does that experience ever come in handy with you.
He’s got you crying from pleasure night after night and never seems to tire of it.
F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying, may include a visual)
Reverse cowgirl all the way. The visual of you bouncing on top of him, hips rolling, ass jiggling with your back arched, his hands on your tits, is the fastest way to make him cum. He also loves pulling your face towards him so he can still kiss you.
Extra points if you do it in front of your mirror so he can watch you fall apart and see your breasts bounce with your movements.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)
Depends on the moment.
If either of you make a strange noise, or accidentally injure yourself he’s not too pompous to laugh it off and make a joke about it in the future. But he’s not going to ruin the heat of the moment by creating a comedy special in the middle of it all.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)
He doesn’t really have to shave downstairs to be well groomed. Targaryen’s don’t have much body hair and what they do have is soft and thin.
He does like to grow out his facial hair occasionally and it’s a good look on him. When he’s grown it out he tells you to ride his moustache often.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
There’s two different types of sex with Aegon, the kind you started out with in the beginning of your relationship and still have: nasty, dirty, spit in your mouth kind of sex, and the kind you can only recently do: love making (even though he hates that phrase.)
He can be surprisingly romantic. He’s a fan of kissing during sex, holding hands, and eye contact.
He’s got all the duality you need.
J = Jack Off (how often do they do it? how do they feel about it?)
24/7 365. If you’re not around to help him he will absolutely be indulging himself. He has a locked album on his phone filled with pictures and videos of you in compromising positions.
His favourite is the video you sent him of you playing with your pussy, legs spread, tits pulled out of your dress, knickers pushed to the side as you ride your fingers and moan his name. It makes him feel like you’re right there in the room with him.
K = Kink (what are they into?)
What isn’t he into is a simpler question.
He’s a versatile man in general so when he’s in dom mood he likes slapping you on both sets of cheeks but not enough to seriously hurt you. Because he never grew up with a father and the word means almost nothing to him he loves to be called daddy. A little bit of voyeurism. Overstimulation is also a good way to get him going without even having to touch him. Nothing brings him as much pleasure as watching you squirm and whine as he makes you cum over and over again. He also likes to be a little condescending when he’s in charge: ‘what did you say baby? I can’t hear you over the sound your wet little cunt.’
When he’s feeling subby it’s a whole other ballpark. He loves being edged for hours, knowing he’s completely in your control. He’s a fan of being manhandled, chocking, slapping, scratching, anything is on the table for him if you’re up for it.
There’s much more he’s up for but at the end of the day all he wants is to be praised no matter what you two are doing.
L = Location (favourite places to have sex)
For how kinky he is his favourite basic location is his bed. He’s up to do it truly anytime and anywhere but nowhere feels better than his soft mattress.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)
Almost anything will get him going. He’s turned on most of the time. But seeing you taking interest in something he enjoys will always push him over the edge. He remembers going on a rant to you about his favourite album and he glanced up to see you looking at him with genuine interest, and love in your eyes and he doesn’t think he’s gotten harder faster in his.
Looks-wise he adores the sight of you in nothing but a t-shirt and knickers. Morning breath be damned if he sees you wearing that it’s game over. You’ve told him many times you’d be happy to put some sexy lingerie on but he always reassures you he’s just as turned on seeing you in that.
N = Nope (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He never wants to actually hurt you. The first time you had sex and cried you had to reassure him it was from pleasure and not pain so he would touch you again. Any bodily fluids besides spit and cum is completely out of the question.
Also he’s got two moms so calling anyone mommy is a no-no.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
He loves both.
When it comes to giving he could do it all day long. The image of you either sat on his face or lying above him is something he couldn’t describe with words how hot it makes him feel. Your legs as earmuffs is the greatest gift he could ever get. He’s incredibly skilled, his tongue (which is pierced by the way) and jaw never seeming to get tired.
He swears you are the best head he has ever gotten. Your lips wrapped around him makes him understand why people can believe in the afterlife. He also love the sight of you looking up at, eyes wide as you swallow him down your throat.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? )
It can go either way depending on his mood.
After a bad day he will most likely take out his frustration by pounding into you until both of you can’t remember your names. The grip he has on your hips leaving bruises the next day. One time he even managed to break your bed frame (don’t worry he paid for a new one).
Morning sex tends to be much more tender and romantic. Slow kisses and shallow thrusts before both of you have to go out into the real world.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often?)
Whenever there’s time for one he’ll make it happen. He doesn’t care how inconvenient it is, if he has opportunity to fuck you he will take it 100% of the time.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)
He’s lived his life by the motto of try anything once. He even has a whole day dedicated to it.
When you were about 3 months into your relationships you took it as your chance to bring up experimenting and he was so excited. You tried roleplaying, bdsm, wax play, and exhibitionism all in 24 hours.
After that you both decide that one day a month if the other person brought up something they wanted to try you would try it, and anything else that came to mind for both of you.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)
You swear there is nothing that can stop Aegon when he’s horny. Your personal record together is 3 and a half hours with no breaks.
Sometime you tap out before he does.
T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He’s got a collection in his bedside drawer: all different types of vibrators, butt plugs, dildos, and fleshlights in all different colours.
He was always up to using them on you especially the vibrators and butt plugs. Pushing them into all your holes as you moaned into his mouth. And you using them on him? That was a wet dream.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease?)
He likes to be teased more than he likes to tease you. The fun in sex for him (other than the fact that it just feels amazing) is watching you succumb to pleasure, not to deny you anything.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make?)
He’s pretty vocal. Moans, grunts, gasps all leaving his mouth in the moment. He also gets vocal with his words praising you in all the ways you like.
‘You feel so fucking good darling’ ‘you were made for me only, right?’ ‘I want you to cum for me, please baby’
W = Wild Card (a random headcanon)
He really wants to have a threesome with you. He��s been a little shy to bring it up because he doesn’t want you to feel insecure, or think the reason he wants to is because you aren’t satisfying him and feel pressured to do it. But the idea of you making out with some other guy/girl while he fucks you really turns him on.
X = X-Ray (what’s goin’ on under those clothes?)
His cock is pretty average in size, around 6 inches and decently thick but it’s a beautiful sight. Pink tip with juicy vein running down the underside. Every time you see it you just want to put it in your mouth.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Once he starts he can’t be stopped. There’s not a day you’ve been together when you haven’t fucked. (Of course he’s up for period sex.)
Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He usually gets a burst of energy after sex. He likes to make a nice snack after you’re done. If you’re feeling tired he’ll rub your back until you fall asleep and usually watch some television on a low volume after you’ve passed out before curling up next to you.
#aegon ii fanfic#aegon x reader#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen smut#aegon targaryen smut#modern!aegon targaryen smut#modern!aegon targaryen#modern!aegon smut#modern!aegon targaryen x reader#modern!aegon#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#cjs.drabbles#cjs.headcanons#cjs.library
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RANDOM ZERO DAY HCS
TW/CW: SH & GORE: ones that are about this will be in italic
more will be added to this list eventually! updated 12/15/24
-andre is chronically ill in some way. he’s often getting sick and he has days where he throws up often. he refuses to have anyone care for him though, as he feels like he’s independent enough.
-cal experiments with fire. he used to start fires in his backyard when he was a young teenager but after his mom caught him & gave him a lecture about it, he resorted to starting them out in the field before or after shooting with andre.
-andre will wear the same three outfits, while cal has a problem with owning too many clothes, specifically band tees.
-andre’s good in science and history, while cal prefers english for the poetry and writing aspect. they both can’t do math, but andre is somewhat better than cal so he copies off of him, whether andre likes it or not.
-cal and his siblings had a hamster growing up. they probably named it something basic like ‘buddy’, and when it died they buried it in a shoebox and had a funeral for it.
-somewhere in the kriegman household, there are photos of mel sleeping in andre’s bed with him when he was younger.
-speaking of mel, she’s woke the boys up before at a sleepover by jumping on them and trying to get their attention. when they finally got up, turns out she just wanted to be fed.
-rachel is a great artist and often draws portraits and eyes. she’s tried to get cal to stay still for her so she could draw him. cal claims it ‘doesn’t look like him’ to tease her.
-modern-day rachel is also the type to own a flickr, tumblr or pinterest account to post her photos. they would usually be of nature, drawings, her and her friends, sunsets, and outfits.
-rachel has a german shepherd and/or a shih tzu. she also posts tons of photos of her pets.
-if cal lived long enough to witness the peak of gore sites, he would have a big, bulky laptop infected with viruses from visiting them. andre would also watch gore with him and give tons of commentary as he’s watching, while cal just stares.
-sometimes, when everyone’s asleep, cal goes into a dissociative state where he doesn’t feel like he’s real. he’s numb and is almost convinced he can’t feel pain. in response to this he will cut. he does it on his thighs and forearms. he also burns himself if he doesn’t have a blade.
-andre knows about cal’s sh, but cal didn’t tell him. he found out. it confused him a little when he first found out, but he’s still learning how to understand it.
-andre listens to classic rock and some german artists. he’s not too deep into the music scene as cal is, so cal’s always on his ass about ‘name three songs.’
-cal smokes weed before school sometimes. when he can’t do that, he’ll skip class to smoke. he does it out of a water bottle, and andre thinks it’s disgusting and tells him to ‘just get a bong or a pipe if he’s gonna do that’.
-andre has tried thc once with cal. he didn’t like it as he felt it made him ‘too aware and too nervous’. however he will take cbd as a pain reliever.
-cal has done, or at least considered doing shrooms. he knows a few people who can get him some, and the days leading up to zero day make him think ‘i might as well, before i die’.
-andre takes quick, cold showers. cal’s in there for an hour with the water steaming hot. he’s nearly passed out from it, multiple times.
-cal draws on the desks in school all the time. his desk is covered in drawings and it only gets more and more filled as the days go on, because the teachers just gave up on telling him to stop.
-rachel has a couple friends that rebel more than her, so she’s coined as the ‘innocent one’ or the ‘goody two-shoes’. she’s still popular nonetheless, but known as the nice girl.
-modern day cal is a white monster junkie. sometimes he gets the original flavour too.
-it broke rachel’s heart when she found out about cal’s sh. cal never intended to tell anyone, but over time he got a bit too comfortable and accidentally let the fact slip out in conversation. she was scared and after that she would always double-check to make sure cal was okay. cal didn’t know how to accept her kind words, and i like to think he died still not fully believing she cared.
-cal and andre getting their hands on the first sims game once it came out. they’d make brad huff, giving him the ugliest and most overdramatized features. they’d make each other, too. they’d argue when they get to see the reveal of their characters, but it’s the funniest thing ever at the same time. the night ends off with them making their own sims and brad’s sim fight and other shenanigans.
-andre’s lips get chapped easily causing them to peel, so he developed a habit of biting the skin off.
-cal’s hands are always cold. like, concerningly cold. he’ll put his hand on andre’s arm randomly sometimes and make him jump. it catches him off guard and pisses him off every time.
#zero day#andre keuck#calvin gabriel#zero day 2003#andre kriegman#cal robertson#caldre#🏷️ cubiclez hc tag
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LU Survey 2024 Results
The long awaited results of the survey. Thank you guys for being so patient with me :)
There were 350 responses to the survey this year! Not as many as there were last year, but still impressive. If you want to look at the raw data for this, you can do so here
Demographics
General Questions
Favorites and Least Favorites
Blank Space Question (Select Answers)
I'm so normal about Legend (the biggest lie I've ever told)
WIND BABY WIND OUGH IHGH UUOA I AM SICK FOR HIM MY SKRUNKLE MY OUGHGHHGJUA BELOVED
Remember that fandom is a community! Reach out to each other and learn something new! Give someone a compliment! Ask them a question! Encourage new artists and writers who are still learning! Thank you Mint for doing the survey again, too!
The fact no one has thought of calling Warrior's Zelda, "Areia" hurts me deeply "Hyppolita" even, please, with how much shipping there is between them, people sure are eager to name her after goddesses who have vowed to never have romantic relationships.
I dont think the fandom talks about it but i really love that every single piece of sky clothing is embroidered, because unless skyloft has embroidery machines thats all hand done. Which means either someone he knows makes a lot of them and gives them out freely (i give most of my projects to friends and family) or he would have paid someone for it, which means that either someone on skyloft lives of decorating clothing (and likely other fabrics) or someone just uses it to get some extra money (both are amazing since in the modern day people dont want to pay for handcrafted works what its actually worth)
Shark skeletons are made of cartilage, not bone
It's dangerous to go alone. Take this. 🦆
FOUR SUPREMACY🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥💚❤️💙💜💪💪💪💪🔛🔝💯💯💯💯💯
No but the Athena/Artemis thing is so real. What’s up with that. Why did we pick Artemis? Why did we do that?
I find it so funny how the fandom has decided to call Dark Link "Dink" because whenever I play a Zelda game I name my character Dink or Dinkus :D I started doing this waaaaay before I knew about LU
Im so excited for Echos of Wisdom! I find it really funny that Nintendo keeps making it harder for JoJo to stick to the plan, I'm pretty sure it's Legend and Fable but I'm not certain any ways Im really happy!
I love how LU is a culmination of so many of my favorite tropes from other fandoms! It’s been really comforting and nostalgic for me despite the fact that I only got into it this year. Especially since so many creators I liked have been getting revealed as problematic, it’s nice to be able to fall back on fictional characters who can’t ruin the lives of real people. :)
#lu survey 2024#linked universe#long post#lu wild#lu time#lu twilight#lu legend#lu warriors#lu hyrule#lu wind#lu four#lu survey#graphs
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My Adventures with Superman EP 4: Design Works
My goodness it feels so strange to see these designs two years later but I actually had a hand in Clark, Lois and Jimmy’s gala suits in episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman!
This happened WAY back in Sept 2021 but during my first week on the show I jokingly sent a piece of art to one of the design leads and well, one thing led to another:
This is kind of running gag with my work, but I somehow always predict things when I draw fanart haha. I truly didn’t know there was gonna be a gala episode and now I was tasked to do a pass for the main trio’s gala outfits.
CLARK KENT
Naturally since it started with Clark, he was the first one I did a pass on. I actually really like men’s suits design so this was the most fun to design out of the three. Overall, I drafted up four different suits that gave 4 different feels for our soft boi. Option A was a full 3 piece with slick backed hair (which honestly now feels very Bruce Wayne than Clark haha). Option B had a high school prom feel, Option C was more business casual (hence why his dress shirt was unbuttoned at top) and finally Option D was sleek turtleneck & suit combo. Honestly, I was rooting Option D ‘cause I’m a sucker for a turtleneck but if I remember correct they went with Option B ‘cause it felt the most Clark. But just know I tried haha.
LOIS LANE
Lois’s outfit was quite challenging since I had no clue until I was given the assignment that she’s Korean (yes, Lois is canonically Korean in the show). I remember the design leads Jane Bak and Dou Hong showing me a rough concept of a modern hanbok. I spent so many days researching hanboks and the construction behind them...it truly was a learning experience for me haha. It was quite challenging trying to create and outfit that spoke to Lois’ heritage while still keeping her energy. This was my very first pass but I think ultimately the team did a great job to hone in the final look and balance both elements for her outfit (the backless top is just chef’s kiss). Also yes, I did try giving Lois slick back hair haha.
JIMMY OLSEN
There isn’t much to say about Jimmy’s outfit (sadly I left the production to work on Spiderman Freshman Year before seeing what they decided on). But from what I remember, I specifically was looking at men’s outfits from the Met Gala from that year and before (I think Chadwick Boseman was the biggest influence for me at the time). Though I think his final suit design aren’t like too far off from my initial thoughts, it’s still super cool to see how it evolved into the final look! But yeah! Just a little behind the scenes on the work I got to do on the show. Again, super brief since Spidey was calling my name but I truly had so much fun getting to design for this show. MAWS was my first ever time doing design work (since I primarily work as a 2D animator and board artist). I was so nervous but the team was welcoming and taught me so much! I really have to thank Dou Hong and Jake Wyatt for taking a chance on me and allowing me to draw hot anime characters for a DC show haha.
#long post#my adventures with superman#maws#maws spoilers#superman#lois lane#clark kent#jimmy olsen#digital art#character design
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room 11-13
summary: albedo is weird. no, not just weird- disgustingly strange.
word count: ~2.5k
-> warnings: implied stalking [him -> you] ; he is a weird creep!! brief + non described mentioned nudity (of reader, within a drawing)
-> gn reader (you/yours) in a modern au !
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk
< masterlist >
your roommate was… interesting, to say the least. not that you really had many expectations—unlike apparently everyone else, you didn’t come to university with a plethora of friends packed in your bag. you had no names to list on your housing contract, no familiar faces to look forward to when you came home, just you, a handful of cardboard boxes and a lingering sense that you’d forgotten something.
there was nothing you could pin about him. nothing in specific, no one catalyst you could point to. sure, you don’t see him often, but that isn’t inherently a bad thing. there’s nothing wrong with not going out much, there’s nothing wrong with being a quiet person when you’re living with a stranger. the common room is clean, the sink is (relatively) empty, and none of your things in the fridge have been eaten. he really, by all standards, should be a perfectly fine roommate, but…
albedo was a quiet man. you first met him when you moved in, delicately pouring exact amounts of water into a small tins over the sink without a single sound or stray droplet. he looked up, you exchanged names, and that was that. the rest of your day was spent unpacking in your room, barely hearing the click of his door closing.
you never quite asked what he was doing that first day, but you could put two and two together. he had a habit of leaving pencils or erasers or other supplies on the coffee table, and you often ran into him when he came out of his room to fetch them. you’re not quite sure how you never see him in the living room when you never told him your schedule, but… well, whatever. it didn’t take a genius to know that the guy with charcoal smears across his hands was an artist. and, if you’d somehow missed those, you sometimes ran into half-used palette in the fridge, beads of paint in a myriad of colors sealed neatly in plastic containers, changing every time you checked.
you weren’t sure why they were always there, as you’d definitely seen one when he was in the dorm, but… well, it’s not really your business, is it? maybe he’s busy, maybe he doesn’t want to paint, maybe he’s taking a nap, who cares. you grab what you need and go back to your room; there’s more important things to worry about than a stranger’s hobbies. honestly, you shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about him. you could hardly claim to know someone you never saw.
well, except when you did see him.
you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as you came back from your chemistry lab, not minding the usual palette of paint beside it. also as usual, you heard his door open as he remembered some random item, not minding the sound of his footsteps as you receded into your own room-
“wait! ah- please…”
you forgotten what his voice sounded like. it’s mostly out of shock, not recognition, that you turn around, seeing him lingering in the entrance to his half of the dorm. his hair is loose around his shoulders, catching the light from the window and glowing gold. his apron is stained with a rainbow of paint, matching the perpetual lines across his hands, and he seems a bit too nervous to be talking with someone he’s been living with for a few months now.
“…i couldn’t make it to the lab today,” he starts, words measured and not at all like his original call, practiced instead of panicked. “could i borrow your notes?”
…you’re in the same chemistry class? you’d never noticed. then again, you’re not sure you could pick him out of a crowd—it’s not like you two were exactly close… but giving him your data was honestly a non-issue. normally you wouldn’t think twice about it, except if he was in your lab section then he should know the rules about missing them.
“you’re going to have to retake the lab anyway, aren’t you? my report won’t help you at all.”
he blinks, like he’d forgotten that fact, and you half hope that’ll be the end of it. you still have your own work to get to, after all.
“still… it would give me something to reference, so when i do it i’ll know if my results are reasonable.” his brows are drawn, genuinely worried, crystal blue carrying a surprising amount of emotion despite the careful cadence of his words. “i’d greatly appreciate your assistance on this matter… i don’t have a reliable way to contact anyone else in the class.”
it only takes you a few moments to weigh the pros and cons. at worst, your partner can back you up if he tries to steal your work. at best, nothing happens and you’ve earned a bit of goodwill.
you shrug, taking off your bag and setting it on the counter, unzipping the main pocket and digging for your lab manual. you find it and flip to today’s lab, mentally wondering what an artist would think of the irritated scribbles down the side of the page. whatever the case, you hold it out toward the hallway he was before, only to find him barely a foot away. he’s stood over your shoulder, letting your manual bump into his chest without a flinch, without an ounce of the worry from before.
without an ounce of anything at all, really. his face is flat, empty, just staring down at the words in front of him without seeming to read them at all.
“…sorry,” you start, “i didn’t hear you-”
“don’t be sorry.” with a blink, he’s back, taking the manual with a gentle smile. “thank you for your help. i’ll return it by tonight.”
“…yeah, take your time.”
you’re not going to question what or why whatever happened did. it’s.. just easier if you don’t. you grab your bag and go to your room, focused on anything else.
you don’t find it in the common area, on the coffee table or by the sink or in any reasonable area. he doesn’t knock on your door to return it. no, instead, you trip over it the next day as you leave your room, squinting in the dark to see it laying on the carpet, a note taped to the front.
yeah, you’re not reading that. not now, at least. you’re certain albedo is a nice guy, if socially awkward, but… you can give him the benefit of the doubt later. you shove the note in a drawer and forget about it, going to class. if you just ignore it, you won’t have to deal with it.
it must not have been anything important, because he doesn’t ever bring it up again. it’s almost as if nothing happened. there’s a new pencil on the common room whenever you walk by, he ducks his head and smiles sheepishly when grabbing it, and nothing is new. you try to look for him in the lab, if only to be courteous, but never find him. it’s not a big class… but whatever, you’re not too familiar with his face anyway. after a week or two, you stop trying.
it’s wishful thinking, really.
you have to do a double take when opening the fridge one day, the paint on the palette looking, from the corner of your eye, like a human hand. it’s just skin-toned paints, delicately mixed into a color that somewhat looks like yours.. by the looks of it, he must have fussed with the tint for a while. normally there’s only small bubbles of paint, but this is excessively fine refinement.. he must just be a perfectionist.
you can’t leave your room without running into him. not just like before, with brief intersections as he grabs what he’s forgotten, but actual interactions. he sits on the couch, drawing in a small notebook, asking you about your classes like he’s not supposed to be in his own classes. sure, he could be taking some online, but it’s like he never leaves the dorm.
he asks as usual, one day, what class you’re going to. when you finally gather your courage and ask why he himself isn’t going to the lab, he startles, like he’d forgotten he was attending. there were plenty of reasons why he wasn’t going—maybe he was in a different section of the class, or he had a car and had reduced travel time, or quite literally anything other than silence. but he sat there, staring at you like you were the one who had mixed up your schedule, with the same painfully empty look as before.
you left soon after that.
if asked to describe albedo in three words or less, you’d fumble for a few moments before landing on “fine, but weird.” if asked to do so with any other level of detail, you’d probably end up saying the exact same thing.
and that’s fine. you didn’t really expect to become best friends with your roommate. but for archons’ sake, he’s just so… uncanny.
you’ve never seen any other food in the fridge but yours. you cannot remember ever seeing or hearing him leave or enter the dorm, or ever remember not seeing some sign of him being there. his door was perpetually closed, the faint sound of scratching coming from behind it, and he’d just… freeze at random. like he recedes into himself, leaving a hollow husk until he returns, eyes left as flat disks set into an unfeeling face. there’s nothing inherently wrong with not showing many expressions, but whatever he’s got going on is far more concerning than that.
so really, who could blame you for being curious? his sketchbook is just there, laying open on the table, only partially masked by the small bag of supplies next to it. the door to the bathroom is closed, you really shouldn’t be invading his privacy like this, but it’s not like he even bothered to close it.
still, it’s wrong.
still, having something solid to point to could really help if you ever need to make a complaint to an RA.
oh archons, this is such a bad idea.
before you can convince yourself not to, you walk over and sit in his usual place on the couch, picking up his sketchbook and gritting your teeth through the fact that there’s no way this is morally justified.
the current spread is plain. it’s entirely in pencil, repeated iterations of different kinds of jewelry. rings, with ornate spirals and diamonds along the sides, leading into a gem of many different cuts. some simple stud earrings, some hoops, a necklace draped around a half-drawn bust, the chain sketched to look like blooming flowers strung together. there’s some notes in another script, but other than that, it’s entirely normal. there’s nothing weird about a guy that draws bracelets in his spare time. but your mind itches to find a justification, searching for proof, and you’re already in too deep. despite your better judgement, you turn the page, doing your best not to drop it when you do.
it’s you.
you, at least six times on two pages alone. smiling, waving, fixing your hair, by the seven you feel faintly sick, fingers digging into the pages as you try to rationalize what you’re seeing.
it could just be a one off. maybe you have a particularly interesting face to draw? except the next page is the same, and so is the next, and you flip through them all with the edge of your thumb and it’s all you.
all of it. every single page that has ink on it has your face. from the very front to the very back, with only a page or two of white left, and it’s clear that the jewelry was an intentional decoy. there’s a spread dedicated to just your hands, one to various outfits he’s seen you in, one- archons, one in various stages of undress, barely granting you the dignity of keeping them from the waist up. the worst part, really, is how accurate they are, clear proof of just how much time he’s spent staring at you.
you recognize his voice now, quiet and measured as he calls your name. that could just be your heart in your ears, though.
he has that same blank expression again, standing in the doorway, looking between you and the book. you’re certain he can see the paled fingertips of your grip on the cover. “do… do you not like them?”
“…what?”
he settles back into himself, sad, shoulders slumping and eyes downturned. “they’re just practices, i promise. the actual painting looks much better…”
bile threatens the back of your throat. “the painting?”
“yes, the painting. the one i mentioned in my note…”
…the note. his note. the one you didn’t read. the one he gave you after a grand total of one significant interactions, before which you all but considered him a ghost. and he decided that making a painting of you was a normal thing to do?
“…it makes sense you forgot it. i can’t imagine i’ve ever come close to properly capturing your beauty… it doesn't matter the medium, i never seem to get it right...”
he crosses his arms, picking idly at his lips with one hand, like he’s discussing a particularly annoying problem on his homework and not the fact that he has drawings of you topless. after a few moments of mumbling, he shakes his head. “i’ll do better. i promise i will. one day i'll draw something that finds even a fraction of your perfection.”
you don’t care. all you want is to get out of here, to lock your doors and try not to call the cops while he’s in earshot. “it’s fine, albedo”
the lie is a poison that seems to sting him upon arrival, a ripple of shock crossing his impassive expression. “it's not fine, not at all. how can i call myself an artist if i fail to impress my muse? please, give me time, i promise i can do better-”
“it’s fine,” you repeat, setting the sketchbook down and realizing with another stab of disgust that he’s written your name on the front cover. you stand, hands buzzing with the echo of what you’ve witnessed, not caring for the crestfallen look on his face. “…you’re a talented artist,” you grit out.
and you’re going to be sick.
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#albedo x reader#genshin albedo#gi albedo#albedo x you#x reader#genshin impact x reader#yandere albedo#yandere genshin x you#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin imagines#hes so edible your honor#mmmmmmm weird men#your usual; sir: [ guys you'd call the cops on in real life but really wanna kiss in fiction ]#hes such a loser#my wife though. My loser <3#his rizzless demeanor and pathetic attitude have endeared me to him....... we should like..... make out or somehting....#i have like 4 of these ideas are you ready for them. you better be#i dunno i don't have like a point in this just. weirdbedo yk
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Dr. Stevens and His Sugar Baby
Warnings: SMUT, Sugar Daddy Erik, Daddy Dom Erik
Part 7.1
Erik and Sienna spent their Saturday out on the town. They hopped on the back of his sports bike and he gave her a spare helmet to put on. They zoomed through the streets of San Francisco and kicked off their day of fun with a trip to the Museum of Modern Art. Erik and Sienna took a couple of selfies before walking hand in hand towards the museum. There was an exhibition for a South African visual artist named Zanele Muholi. Muholi calls attention to violence and trauma enacted on queer people while celebrating their beauty and resilience. It provided an opportunity for the Bay Area audiences to experience the full range of the artist’s expansive project.
It was powerful and beautiful all at the same time. Erik held Sienna’s hand as they walked around the exhibit admiring all of the visual art. Erik was a fan of Zanele Muholi and he met her during a trip to South Africa during an art event there. Sienna wondered who Erik didn’t know because he’d been to many places and met so many high profile individuals. Erik introduced Sienna to Zanele and they spoke for some time before she was whisked away.
After exploring the exhibit, they left to grab some lunch before Erik surprised her with floor seats to a basketball game. They finished their lunch and headed back to the condo where Erik fucked Sienna’s brains out before they could even make it into the door. They’d been flirting and teasing each other all day and Erik couldn’t take it anymore.
Whenever that happened, he needed to be inside of Sienna right that instant. Imagine how hard it was to control his urges whenever they’d been apart due to their schedules. He could get in that pussy every which way and on any surface he pleased now. He bent her over, pulled her jeans and panties to her ankles, and stuffed her full of big dick from behind. She braced herself against the wall and her mewling had him going crazy in that pussy.The jeans she wore fit her ass so nice he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her all day.
Sienna tried to behave herself for the sake of the museum date, but Erik dressed in a leather moto jacket, with his locs in a ponytail turned her on strong. She would brush her ass against the crotch of his leather biker pants whenever she passed him to elicit a groan from him. Truthfully, she still wasn’t over the previous night. That bed was a mess with their mixed fluids. Erik made Sienna cum before she could even step foot inside of the condo and soon after Erik was shooting his load deep inside her pussy.
They spent the rest of the early evening getting ready for the game. Erik wanted to drive his motorcycle again but Sienna decided to wear a dress. He drove his Lexus and they met up with Apollo and Kitten. Sienna had never been to a pro basketball game and she never had interest in the sport before. Being surrounded by people with money and popularity made her feel a little out of place. Erik held onto her the entire night. At least she had Kitten to talk to whenever Apollo and Ignus got into the game. They all had Korean BBQ afterwards and Sienna was getting sleepy. Too much fucking and moving about drained her. Erik sensed this and they left to get some rest.
It’s Sunday now and Sienna was fast asleep in a T-shirt with no panties. She was sleeping on her stomach with her hands tucked beneath the pillow. Erik had already woken up to go to the gym for an early session. He returned and wasn’t surprised to find Sienna still snoozing. He took off his athletic shoes, socks, Nike sweatband, and iwatch. Erik silently walked over to his bed and looked down at Sienna’s sleeping frame. He loved watching her sleep. Erik strokes her cheek with a single finger before taking that same hand to lift the sheets.
Peeking underneath, he could see that she had no bottoms on. Good girl. That’s one of his rules. When it’s bedtime, Sienna sleeps with no panties or sleep bottoms to give her daddy better access whenever he wants it. And he was craving it badly. Erik left to take a brisk shower and when he returned in his naked glory, Sienna was on her back now. Erik gently pulled the sheets back to her feet and he lifted the hem of the T-shirt she wore. There, sitting fat was his favorite pussy.
Erik thumbed her pussy lips softly while staring at her sleeping face. She started shifting in the bed, eyebrows pinched together and her bottom lip pouted. He took his finger to slip between her pussy lips and feel on her clit. She was nice and slick for him. Sienna opened her eyes and looked up at him with the cutest, sleepy expression he’d ever seen. Erik simply smiled at her before bringing his finger to his mouth and sucking her juices off.
“Good morning, baby girl.”
“Morning, daddy.” Sienna said with a sleep laden voice.
“Did you sleep well?”
Sienna nodded her head.
“I went to the gym. I needed a good workout.”
Sienna stretched and Erik’s eyes dropped down between her legs.
“I bet you’re exhausted,” Sienna said before yawning.
“Nah. I’m actually energized.” Erik replied.
He stroked her left thigh.
“Baby…I want some pussy.” Erik declared.
He wasn’t asking. He was telling.
“Daddy, I already know you do,” Sienna sat up on her elbows, “I was just waiting for you to take it.”
She dragged her bare foot over Erik’s rock hard abs. Erik seized her foot in his hand and brought his lips down to kiss her pretty toes. Sienna bites her lip when Erik’s kisses travel towards her thigh.
“Maybe you can pass some of that energy onto me through that big dick,” Sienna whispered seductively, “I could use it.”
“Oh yeah, little mama? Are you sure you can keep up with me?”
“I’m sure. Are you sure you can handle this good pussy so early in the morning?”
“I can handle that pussy whenever, baby. Just put it on me…”
Sienna laying on her back, Erik pushing her thighs back and slid two fingers past her opening until his digits were sucked in by her walls. Erik leans over Sienna and he lifts her shirt to reveal her breasts. Like always, they’re hard and begging to be sucked. He wrapped his lips around a stiff nipple and yanked. Sienna moaned into his ear softly. Erik sucked her nipples back and forth and then he sat back on his knees to watch her face while he fingered her.
“You’re always so creamy for me…listen to that…so juicy…”
Sienna tugged on her nipples.
“I’m gonna squirt like that…”
“You know I love it when you do it…”
“Unhhhhhh…”
“That’s it…make a mess all over me…”
Sienna squeaked and as if a damn broke her pussy squirted all over his hand and created a puddle between them. Erik would press his fingers against her spot and each time a tiny stream of liquid would spray from her pussy like a spitting fountain. Erik looked at his fingers when he withdrew them and it was dripping wet and covered in her slime. Erik used that hand to fist his dick.
He lined his tip up with Sienna’s pretty pink puss and sank inside with a long hiss billowing from his lips. Sienna twisted her head and moaned. Erik immobilized her legs so that they were wide open and touching the bed. He looked Sienna in the eyes and his hips were pistoning in and out of her. The bed was firm but Sienna’s body did all the bouncing. Erik was up on his tip toes and balls deep.
“Fuck me,” Sienna gasped, “Fuck me like that…”
Her skin was covered in goosebumps and at the pit of her stomach was a tightness that could only mean one thing. She was about to cum. Already? Sienna accepted the powerful feeling and hot tears rolled into her hairline.
“Who couldn’t handle this pussy in the morning?” Erik taunts.
He wasn’t through with her yet. He still needed his nut. Erik had her pinned against the mattress with her ankles in his grip. He knocked her walls down like a wrecking ball.
“Oh my god! I can’t stop cumming!”
Sienna dug her nails into Erik’s arms with how hard she clung to him.
Erik pressed his body against hers and buried his face in her neck. He went from fucking her hard to fucking her with sharp thrusts that yielded. He would go deep and sit there, withdraw his hips slow to the tip, and then BAM! He was right back inside with another toe curling stroke. Sienna bites his shoulder and her nails claw his back.
“I love the way your pussy just fits around my dick, baby…”
“I’m gonna cum so deep in this pussy, princess…”
His words mixed with his stroke was too much.
“You ready for this nut?” Erik asked aggressively in her ear.
“Yes!”
“Here it comes…mmmmm—”
His hips went out of control and after five more deep thrusts that had Sienna crying out Erik pulled out and he came all over her stomach. He put it back in and slow stroked her while they kissed. Eventually, Erik slipped his dick out. Sienna sat up and tried to stretch her stiff muscles but Erik sat behind her and massaged the knots out of her shoulders and upper back.
Sienna went to take a shower while Erik got dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. He put on a pair of slippers and left the room to get a head start on breakfast. He opened the fridge to grab everything and the bottle of champagne from Friday night to make mimosas. Sienna arrived dressed in a pair of gray yoga shorts and a white crop top with her braids styled in a high bun. She jumped in to help Erik with the waffle batter
“Focus,” Erik wipes batter from the tip of his nose, “Silly girl…”
Sienna was in a playful mood. She was showing a side of herself that lets Erik know how much of a fun-loving person she is. He had to chase her around the kitchen a couple of times and pic her up over his shoulder.
“Behave!” Erik popped her on the booty, “You just want my full attention.”
Erik put her down and kissed her lips. He finished making the waffles and then he moved onto the eggs. Sienna sipped her mimosa and decided to cut up some strawberries. The food was nearly done. Erik had just finished the grits when Sienna started shaking her ass on his crotch.
“Sienna…”
She sat up straight and gave him an innocent smirk.
“You asking for a spanking, girl. Do you not see me at this hot stove?” Erik fussed.
“Fine, I’ll behave…for now.”
Erik narrowed his eyes playfully at her and then his hand reached out and he slapped her on the ass hard. Sienna reached back to cover her butt with a pout of her bottom lip.
“Expect more of that if you keep trying me. Why don’t you grab some plates for us and set the table on the balcony?”
“Okay.”
Sienna went to set the table while Erik made sure everything was ready in serving bowls. He made more mimosas since Sienna had drunken hers down. She returned with a bright smile.
“Can I have a kiss, daddy?”
Of course Erik wasn’t going to deny his baby girl a kiss. He smirked at her with a single dimple deep in his cheek and grabbed her by the chin before pressing his lips into hers.
“I’m gonna go use the bathroom and I'll come back.”
She turned to leave and on her way out she bent over and made her ass bounce for Erik before walking away. He shook his head at her while carrying some of the food out to the balcony. It was a nice sunny day to eat and enjoy the weather.
On his way back in, there was a knock to Erik’s door. He halted his footsteps in the living room to make sure he’d heard it.
Knock knock knock.
“Did I order something?”
With a crease in his brow, Erik strolled over to his door. He leaned in to look through his peephole and his face went blank. He stood at his full height slowly and tightened his jaw. His onyx eyes searched the area for any sign of Sienna.
Knock knock knock
Erik wrapped his fingers firmly around the door handle and after a few meditating breaths to calm his frustration, Erik unlocked the door and cracked it open. His eyes zeroed in on the unexpected guest and he didn’t hide his anger.
“Faith…”
She smirked at him mischievously.
“Erik.”
Sienna made her way down the steps of Erik’s condo with a skip like she was Dorothy in a whimsical garden. She paused abruptly when she heard a mellow voice she didn’t recognize. Sienna back tracked and leaned over the top railing to catch a glimpse of who it could be. Her brown eyes fell upon a petite woman with tawny-brown skin, bouncy shiny black hair, and playful eyes. She’s dressed in a white fitted blouse, a pair of boyfriend jeans rolled at the ankles, and nude Louboutin pumps.
Before he could even say anything else, she entered his apartment and brushed past Erik like she was welcomed in. He blew air through his flared nostrils and cut his eyes at her like she was his mortal enemy.
“You shouldn’t be here, Faith…”
Faith’s eyes were searching high and low.
“Where’s your girlfriend? Smells like you’ve been cooking.”
Sienna narrowed her eyes at Faith’s remark.
“What do you want, Faith? You can’t just come here unannounced.” Erik spoke with frustration.
“I was in the neighborhood doing a bit of shopping so I figured I’d stop by to see how you were doing,” Faith turned around to face him, “How’s life treating you?”
“Great.” Erik replied.
“Still that busy surgeon I see. Can’t be too busy if you’re making time for your new girlfriend.”
“Carrie.”
Erik pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his jaw.
“No, actually. You were at lunch the other day. A friend of mine saw the two of you.”
“Listen, Faith. What I do and who I see now has nothing to do with you anymore. We’re divorced. I don’t owe you an explanation—”
“She’s young, isn’t she?”
Sienna rolled her eyes. Of course she would take it there.
“I think it’s time for you to go.”
Sienna watched as Erik opened his door and waited with a hard glare at Faith. Faith chuckled and shouldered her LV bag before taking purposeful slow strides to his door. She looked around her one last time before stopping in front of Erik. She placed a hand against his solid chest and proceeded to drag it down his body but Erik caught her roaming hand in a firm grip.
“No. You don’t get to do that. Manipulate me…”
“That young pussy has your mind all twisted. What do you expect to happen between you two, Erik? Marriage? A family? What do you even have in common? What would people think?—”
“How’s Brian doing?”
Faith yanked her hand away from Erik. She turned her gaze towards her heeled feet.
“You never made time for me. You worked so much and created distance between us. All I wanted was to feel loved…”
“So you fucked some other dude to fill that void? Faith…I’ve heard this shit time and time again. Don’t come back here, understand? You gotta go…”
Sienna could hear the hurt in Erik’s voice. Faith really broke his heart when she cheated. And to show up like this and say what she said about Sienna after what she did? Sienna’s inner dialogue compelled her to stay where she was because if she didn’t…
“I still love you, Erik,” Faith said between sniffles, “I was lonely—”
“Faith,” Erik said her name with a warning behind his tone, “Leave—”
Sienna’s eyes bugged out when Faith pressed her lips against Erik’s. Erik broke the kiss with anger and that’s when Sienna descended the stairs. Erik heard her footsteps and he looked down at Faith before his eyes met Sienna’s. From her body language and expression, he knew she’d heard everything. Sienna and Faith were staring each other down like they were two predators ready to strike.
“So, this is her?” Faith pointed at Sienna, “Really, Erik?”
“Weren’t you dismissed?” Sienna fired back.
“Baby girl,” Erik held out a hand to calm her down, “It’s okay, she’s leaving—”
“Where did you find this one?! Some club?!”
“Didn’t he find you at a bar crying over your drink?”
Faith cocked her head to the side and tried to walk up on Sienna but Erik held her back.
“How dare you!? You’re nothing! He’s not serious about you, little girl!”
“ENOUGH!”
Erik’s voice bounced off of the walls like Zues from Mount Olympus. Both Faith and Sienna were shaken. His chest puffed out and his hands were clenched into fists. With flared nostrils and a penetrating stare between them both, Erik cut his eyes at Faith and pointed a thick finger at her.
“Leave. Now.”
“Erik—”
“I SAID LEAVE, FAITH!”
Faith fumbled with her LV bag while fighting back tears. She walked out of the apartment and turned to look at Erik but he slammed the door in her face. Sienna hadn’t been in an altercation in a while so the adrenaline pumping through her body shocked her. Erik lowered his head with shame after locking his door.
“I’m so sorry,” Erik said.
Sienna watched as he finally looked over at her with embarrassment.
“She was rude and out of order.” Sienna said.
“Yes.” Erik responded, “it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let her in.”
“It’s not your fault, Erik. I heard everything and saw everything. You weren’t wrong.”
Sienna walked up to Erik and lifted his chin so he could look at her. She smoothed some of his locs out of his face and stared into his eyes.
“I love you.” Erik said.
“I love you too.”
Sienna kissed his cheek and Erik wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in.
“This was such a nice moment between us before she came here. I gotta make it up to you.” Erik whispered into Sienna’s ear.
“I’ll think of something later. Let’s go eat before the food gets cold.”
Sienna leads Erik out onto the balcony and they take a seat at the table. Erik gives Sienna a smile from across the table while filling up his plate.
Sienna enjoyed her food while her mind replayed the events that happened. Faith’s words lingered on her mind. Stealing glances at her man from across the table, she wondered what the future holds for them. Sienna didn’t want to think that Erik would grow tired of her. The thought alone pained her. Erik could feel her eyes on him and he looked up through the curtain of locs and shook his head to move them away.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered.
Sienna gave him a half shrug, “Nothing.”
Erik placed his fork and knife on his plate and licked his lips.
“What’s on your mind?” He questioned.
“It’s nothing, really,” Sienna cut into her waffle.
“Does this have anything to do with Faith?”
Sienna shook her head but Erik could see her eyes welling up.
“Baby,” Erik stood up and crouched down next to her, “What is it?”
He rubbed her back and Sienna exhaled a shaky breath. She turned in her chair to face him and Erik grabbed both of her hands.
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t want you to get tired of me.” Sienna finally said with a whimper in her voice.
Erik exhaled and his shoulders slumped.
“Look at me, Sienna,” Erik commanded. He made his voice softer, “I could never get tired of you. The way I feel about you…I’ve never felt. I’m not saying that because it sounds nice, I’m saying it because I fucking mean it. You’re the first woman to ever make me feel this love so deep…I would never sabotage that. I would never grow sick of that feeling…baby…you never have to worry…”
Sienna’s tears rolled down her cheeks. This intense love she felt for Erik made her body shiver. It was love so deep she could feel it in her nerves. It was love so intense that it scared her.
“It’s not even about the sex it’s–it’s so much deeper than that with you. Being around you brightens my day. Being around you I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Don’t you ever doubt that, hear me?”
“Yes,” Sienna sniffled.
“Come here,” Erik picked Sienna up and she wrapped her legs around him, “Fuck Faith. Fuck what she said, baby.”
They swayed side to side while tightly clinging to each other. Erik’s heart pounded against his rib cage and he buried his face into Sienna’s neck.
“You’re my girl?” Erik asked
“Yes,” Sienna replied.
“Forever?” Erik asked.
“Yes,” Sienna sniffled
“Give me a kiss.”
Sienna lifted her face from Erik’s neck and pressed her soft lips against his plump ones. They tongued each other down while Erik held her up with his hands beneath her ass. Sienna broke the kiss and smiled at Erik with puffy eyes.
“Keep smiling, that’s what I wanna see,” Erik nibbled on Sienna’s neck, “Now, can we finish this good food?!”
Sienna giggled, “Yes, I’m so hungry.”
Erik put Sienna down and she sat back in her seat while he took his place across from her. They laughed and picked up their glasses, toasting to what the future holds for them before enjoying their brunch with a great view.
Doctor Stevens finished off the last of his Liquid IV before entering the hall from his office. He was running a little behind schedule, so he took long strides to OR 4 so he could get started on a joint fusion case. Once there, a good friend and colleague of his, DeMarcus Abrams; an Anesthesiologist Assistant, greeted him while gowning up for the case.
“Erik, what’s up man?”
DeMarcus tilted his chin up in greeting since he was already dressed in sterile gear.
“Marcus! How’s it going, bro? Been a while since I’ve seen you here.” Erik replied.
“Been good, man. I know, I picked up a shift here. You know I’m in between working here and UCSF Medical Center.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot about all of that. How’s married life treating you?”
DeMarcus blew out his cheeks and laughed.
“It’s amazing. I’m a father of triplets now.”
“WHAT?!”
Erik gawked at DeMarcus. Lori, the RN, came over to help Erik gown up.
“Yeah, E. Three beautiful baby girls.”
Erik beamed, “Oh my God! You know you gotta show me some pics, Marcus! Congrats, man! I’m so happy for you. That’s beautiful, man…beautiful.”
“I’ll show you some pics. Let me get in here…”
DeMarcus slipped inside of OR 4. Lori just finished up with Erik and he made his way inside, gloves up, a few residents waiting patiently. The Anesthesiologist that DeMarcus was assisting had already put the patient under. He let DeMarcus take over so he could step into another case where he was needed.
“Alright, sorry about that. Let’s do the demographics and get started…”
The Circulating Nurse read off the patient's chart. It was an Arthrodesis of the lumbosacral spine. The patient is a fifty-three-year-old Caucasian male with surgical history of a left shoulder replacement due to a car accident.
Afro beats filled the room as Doctor Stevens got started. Everyone worked as a team and no one got on his last nerve. He joked, laughed, engaged with the residents, and moved his hips a little. He was in such a good mood because of a special woman in his life. He couldn’t wait to see her again. He’d been busy all week long with case after case. He needed some time away, even if it was for a work event.
“Alright, let’s take a second. I need an X-ray.”
The Radiologic Technician rolled the C-arm forward and awaited their instructions.
“Give me an AP, lateral, and fifteen degree oblique to start…”
Erik and the rest of the staff backed away to stay out of the radiation field.
“Last time we chatted, Erik, you were finalizing things with you-know-who.” DeMarcus said.
“X-RAY!”
Beep!
“Ha, yeah, I gotta tell you about that one…”
Erik walked over to look at the image. He was happy with what he saw, so he motioned for the Technician to continue.
“It’s all over. I’m no longer a married man.” Erik replied.
“X-RAY!”
Beep!
“Thinking about getting back out there?” DeMarcus questioned.
Erik made his way over to see the lateral image.
“Perfect.”
He stepped away again.
“…I’m with someone new. She’s amazing.”
“For real?! That’s alright, man. You’re not a spring chicken anymore. Gotta get it in while you can.”
Erik and DeMarcus laughed.
“X-RAY!”
Beep!
“Hold on fool…”
Erik shook his head and chuckled to himself while he headed towards the screen to see the image.
“We’re good to go.”
Erik was in the zone after that.
“Scalpel…”
He held out his hand and the Surgical Tech passed him the surgical blade. Erik made the incision he needed and carefully separated the skin and muscle.
“Forceps, please. The long ones…”
Lori accepted the forceps and safely handed them to Erik.
“Thank you…I need some overhead light caudally…”
The Circulating Nurse adjusted the light towards the foot of the table. About two minutes later, Dr. Stevens found what he was looking for.
“Okay…I see where we need to fuse…”
The Residents crowded in closer to inspect as well before stepping away for Erik to have some space.
“I also see the fracture here at L5-S1…hmm…may need to file this out just a bit before fusing. We don’t want our patient coming back because the screws cracked the vertebrae…”
The Residents nodded and hummed.
“Pop quiz, what’s this? Titanium or Stainless Steel?”
One of the Residents, an Indian girl, raised her hand timidly.
“Titanium. I can see that it’s more durable and it appears more lightweight.”
“TEN POINTS TO?—”
“Imaan.”
“TEN POINTS TO IMAAN!”
The entire OR 4 erupted into laughter. They loved it when Dr. Stevens was in a playful mood. Less attitude and shouting. No one liked to be on his bad side.
“Curette…”
Erik grasped the curette to scrape away tissue. He worked and bobbed his head to the music. It was nothing but good vibes and good energy.
“Whoever this new woman is, she got her claws hooked on you, Stevens.”
Erik cracked a smile. No one could see his megawatt smile since it was hidden behind a mask and face shield.
That’s right. His woman.
“I need the saw now…”
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
The saw wizzed to life and Erik carefully sawed away at a disc between L5-S1. The saw came to a complete stop and he handed it back to Lori.
“Okay…So now, we fuse. Give me an overhead light cephalad.”
Circulating Nurse came to the rescue and she tilted the light towards the head.
Erik put screws, rods, plates and cages in. The fusion took almost an hour to do. He called for repeat X-rays before he finished.
“What’s her name if you don’t mind me asking?” DeMarcus questioned.
“I’ll tell you when we leave.” Erik responded.
“X-RAY!”
Beep!
“Okay…we’re looking good everyone…”
The Technician pulled back when Erik gave his approval. He hoped this was his final case of the day and he couldn’t wait to get home and shower. He closed up the incision in the patient’s back and did one final checking before exiting OR 4 for the rest of the team to finish up.
Erik removed his surgical gear, washed his hands, and headed back to his office. He checked his phone and noticed a missed call from Sienna. He knew what it was about. She’d taken her finals and promised to call him when she’d finished up.
Erik shut his office door and settled behind his desk. He FaceTimed Sienna, elbows propped up on his desk and leg jittery beneath the table. He was so nervous. He knew his baby girl was going to pass, but he still felt anxious. Sienna came into view.
“Hi, Daddy!”
She was sitting in her car, dressed in her nursing school scubs. Her curly hair was slicked back into a bun with baby hairs. Erik could tell that she had been crying. Her bottom row lash extensions were wet from her tears. Her beautiful brown eyes reminded him of maple syrup. She had the biggest smile on her face.
“Hey, little mama! How did you do?”
“I PASSED!!!!”
Erik scooted back in his office chair with wheels and raised both of his toned arms above his head. He cheered Sienna on, hooting and hollering. One hand came down onto his desk and he bit down on his bottom lip.
“THAT’S WHAT THE FUCK IM TALKIN’ ABOUT!”
“I can’t believe it!!”
“What did I tell you? I knew you had that, baby!”
“Daddy, I passed! I’m so fucking hype right now!”
Sienna couldn’t stop smiling.
“One step closer to that NCLEX and graduation. You got this. I’m so fucking proud of you, girl. Fuckin’ killing it…”
“Thank you! I’m in high spirits. I’ll be in my dream job in a matter of months.”
“Yes ma’am. I can’t wait to see you. We gotta celebrate in Hawaii.”
“Definitely! I also plan to do a little something here with friends on Friday before we go? Maybe go out for drinks and clubbing…”
“Sounds like a plan, love. Let me know the details and I can take care of it.”
“Okay! I’ll let you know later. We’re leaving for Hawaii on Monday, right?”
“Yes. I’ll pick you up after you spend time with your friends this Friday.”
“I love you,” Sienna said with a pout of her bottom lip.
“I love you too, babygirl. Let me go…I’ll talk to you later, alright?”
“Do you think you could come over?”
Erik smirked at Sienna.
“Of course I can. I’ll be over tonight.”
“OKAY!”
“alright, beautiful. Drive safe, later.”
Sienna put up the peace sign and ended the call.
Erik couldn’t stop smiling to himself. He was so proud of her. It was beyond words. He grabbed his lunch bag from the mini fridge and left his office. He had some leftover guacamole and chips to eat. Erik entered the break room and there were a few people scattered about that were finishing up. Erik noticed DeMarcus at a table in the corner with a half-eaten deli sandwich and Lay’s chips.
“Finally get to take a break, huh?” Demarcus blurted out between bites of his Turkey club.
Erik sat his lunch bag down in front of DeMarcus before pulling out a chair to take a seat across from him.
“Yeah, got a THR and a TKR back to back before it’s time for me to leave. I have a trip to Hawaii.” Erik explained.
“That award ceremony?”
“Yep, it’s an excuse to relax, you know?”
Erik retrieves his generous homemade guacamole and chips.
“Oh! Let me show you the three rugrats!”
“Did you just say the three regrets?!” Erik remarked with wide eyes and elevated brows.
DeMarcus shakes his head while chewing his masticated food. He chuckled to himself before taking a sip of his Lipton Green Tea to wash the food down smoothly.
“No, nigga. I said RUG-RATS.”
“That’s why you’re supposed to chew your food first before you speak,” Erik laughs, “Three baby girls?”
“Three identical baby girls that have their own personalities…”
DeMarcus shows Erik a bunch of photos of them, swiping left. Erik couldn’t contain his dimpled smile. They were so adorable and chunky!
“Yvette was carrying all of them?! Man…the power of a woman. That’s amazing, De.”
“I know, snap-back wasn’t what I expected but…”
Erik’s forehead furrowed at DeMarcus’ remark.
“How is Yvette? Is she still doing hair?” Erik asked.
“She is. Opened another salon a month ago. I’m so proud of her.” DeMarcus replied with a prideful smile.
Erik munched on his guacamole and chips. DeMarcus went on and on about how being a first time dad is an adjustment, how expensive babies are, and how he hadn’t been out for months. Erik couldn’t relate, but the DeMarcus he knew before he became a married man and a father used to cut up. It was so bad that Faith complained about Erik hanging out with him.
“Enough about me. Let’s talk about you. So, a new lady friend?”
Erik peered over at DeMarcus with a coy smirk.
“What’s her name?” DeMarcus questioned.
“Sienna.”
“Sienna…sounds sexy. Is it serious?”
Erik rubbed his hands together to get rid of the crumbs before grabbing his lemon water. He took a few sips before he responded to DeMarcus.
“It is.” Erik replied.
“How did you two meet?”
Erik looked around to make sure it was safe to discuss this without anyone eavesdropping. He’d been good friends with DeMarcus for years, he could trust him. Especially with the amount of secrets Erik’s kept regarding DeMarcus and his actions. Like the bachelor trip to Jamaica where he cheated on his fiancé with some chick he’d been talking to online for a while. Or the time he used to hook up with a nurse during overnight rotations.
“…she’s a nursing student.”
“For real?” DeMarcus whispered in shock, “Like, one of the students working the orthopedic floor? In the blue scrubs?”
“Yeah,” Erik whispered, “That’s how we hooked up.”
“Damn. How the hell did you bag that?”
Erik chuckled, “You got jokes I see.”
“She young?” DeMarcus asked, excitement swimming in his dark brown orbs.
Erik simply nods his head while continuing to eat his snack.
“Does Sienna have a friend?”
“Fool, you got a wife and kids at home. Relax.” Erik argued.
“And you had a wife that I would have never thought you would divorce. You tryna get your groove back or something dipping in some fresh pussy?”
Erik cocked his head at DeMarcus. The nerve of this nigga.
“Faith cheated on me. She deserved to get divorced, and I don’t need a groove back, nigga. Shit ain’t never die. I’m really feeling her…I love her. She’s amazing.”
“She got your nose wide open, E. You better hope she doesn't take you for all you’re worth. That’s what they do. You got all this money. They see that as a meal ticket. All I’m saying is be careful, E. Don’t jump into anything you’re not prepared for.”
Erik almost choked on his water at DeMarcus’ words.
“Marcus, are you serious? You jump into shit you’re not prepared for all the time. If anything, you need to look out for yourself.”
“We ain’t talking about me.” DeMarcus jokes.
“We need to talk about you. You better hope Yvette doesn't get rid of you this time around.” Erik argues.
“Yeah, yeah, nigga. Anyway, any plans tonight? I was thinking we could get some drinks. You can hit up Jamie, Tony, and Leo. Like old times. I need to let loose.”
Erik didn’t have any plans tonight. He wasn’t going to see Sienna until tomorrow. It has been a while since they all linked up.
“Yeah, why not? I’m down.” Erik said.
“I was thinking Blackbird.” DeMarcus declared.
“I’ll let the fellas know. Just text me the time and I’m there.”
They clean up after their meal and Erik turns to leave when he spots Teairra walking in wearing maroon scrubs with a matching cotton scrub cap, black cat-eye frames, and black patent Dansko nursing shoes with floating hearts printed on them. That beautiful pageant smile and topaz eyes fringed with wispy lash extensions was directed towards Erik.
“My favorite doctor!” Teairra announced while greeting Erik with a hug.
“Sup, T? Good to see you.”
“I’m really glad to see you. You know I’m transferring to ortho, right? That means we get to see more of each other.” Teairra flirts.
“Ha, you’re something else, T. Guess who decided to show up?”
Erik stepped to the side and pointed at DeMarcus. Teairra gasped with surprise before opening her arms to hug him.
“DeMarcus! How have you been?! Good to see you!”
“You too! Look at you girl, damn! Still just as beautiful!”
“Cut it out,” Teairra slaps his arm, “I heard you had triplets?! I want to see a picture!”
“Aight, I’ll show you the girls, but real quick…any plans later?”
Erik cut his eyes at DeMarcus. He knew exactly where this was going. After all, Teairra and him did have history. She didn’t think Erik knew, a lot of people don’t know.
“No. I was gonna head home and pour myself a glass of red wine after my bath and watch a movie. What’s happening?”
“Erik and I are grabbing drinks at Blackbird. A few of our mutual friends will be there. I was wondering if you wanted to come through?”
“Ooh, sounds fun. I don’t mind. You still have the same number?” Teairra asked.
“I do. Do you?”
Teairra giggled to herself causing Erik to look heavenward with a shake of his head.
“Yes. Still the same. And you’ll be there for sure, E?”
Teairra strokes Erik’s bicep affectionately. DeMarcus clears his throat to gain her attention back.
“Yeah, he’ll be there. Don’t flake on me, T. I ain’t seen you in a while. We got catching up to do.” DeMarcus said.
“Of course. I’m a woman of my word. I got a few hours left on the clock before I punch out. I’ll see you two later.”
Teairra gave them both a flirty wave before sauntering over towards the fridge to fill up her Stanley cup with filtered water. DeMarcus and Erik both share a look before leaving the break room.
Erik waved goodbye to DeMarcus before heading back to his office. After putting his things away, Erik returned to the OR and knocked out two cases back to back that took him a total of four hours to complete. Despite all of the work, Erik had all the energy in the world, so much so that he clocked out as a Surgeon and clocked in as a Radiologist. After completing his residency as a Surgeon, Erik returned to San Francisco and did an additional five years for Radiology while simultaneously working as an Orthopedic Surgeon.
Erik took the elevators down to radiology while clipping his work phone and pager to his hip and retrieving his dictation recorder from his white lab coat embroidered with his name. From the elevators, Erik made his way down a silent hall and past a few rooms until he found an unoccupied reading room shrouded in darkness. He sat down, monitors surrounding him. Everything came to life with a jerk of his mouse. Erik brought up images that needed to be read and transcribed. He wanted to knock out as many as he could within the next hour so he could finally leave for the day.
“Osteopenia. Minimal degenerative changes. Soft tissue swelling. Trace effusion. No fracture. There is atherosclerosis of the arterial vasculature. There is also a calcified partially seen, oval-shaped density seen posterior to the right mid-thigh region, which is of questionable significance of etiology. Further evaluation with ultrasound would be beneficial…”
Erik pulled up to 2124 Market Street, parking his Lexus before hopping out. Erik wore khaki cargo pants, a white T-shirt, and a denim jacket. He paired his look with white Jordan’s and minimal gold jewelry. His locs were loose and he smelled like Chanel Bleu De. Erik walked into Blackbird Bar and spotted Leo playing pool with Toni. Unfortunately, Jamie couldn’t make it due to an emergency. Toni, the Intellectual Property Lawyer who goes by The Owl at Honey Pot, just finished his turn and he passed the stick over to Leo. Toni grabbed his glass and took a sip while shit-talking Leo.
“Damn, ya’ll couldn’t wait for your boy?”
Leo and Toni looked up at Erik at the same time. They paused the game to dab him up.
“Ready for our trip?” Leo asked.
“I’m all set. Just have to pick up the lady tomorrow.”
“Where are you two going again?” Toni questions.
“Hawaii. An honorary ceremony for prestigious doctors all over the U.S.” Erik replied.
“Sounds like some mischief. I’m sure you two will have a story to tell when you get back.”
Erik and Leo could only laugh at Toni’s remark. He was correct.
“Treasure is really excited about it. She’s currently spending my money on a bunch of shit she probably won’t wear.” Leo said.
“I need a drink…”
Erik excused himself to the bar. He waved down a tall, thin white male with shaggy hair, thin lips, and hollow cheeks. He looked like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. He settled in front of Erik, tossing a black towel over his shoulder.
“I’ll take an old fashioned bourbon, little ice please.”
Erik watched him whip up his drink and then he sat it on a napkin in front of him. Erik took a cocktail straw before walking back over towards the pool table. He caught the tail end of a conversation between Toni and Leo.
“…Me and Emerald eloped. It was the craziest time.”
Erik cocked his head back with surprise.
“You eloped?! What?! When?!”
“About a month ago. We went to Vegas. I know, crazy, right? She just does it for me. I’m so obsessed with her…”
Leo shared a look of astonishment with Erik. Toni was the least spontaneous out of the friend group. Emerald really took him out of his shell. She’s definitely what he’d been missing.
“Wow…” was all Leo could muster.
“Got pictures?” Erik inquired.
“I do…mostly naked…”
Erik put his hand up, “I think I’ll pass.”
Leo turned his mischievous gaze onto Erik.
“What about Miss Peacock?”
Erik instantly smiled at the mention of Sienna.
“I’m so proud of her. She’s graduating nursing school soon. Such a big accomplishment, you know? I have a huge surprise for her. I plan on taking her out of the country to Jamaica. I have it all planned out…can’t give you guys the details yet.”
“A proposal?” Toni asked.
Erik simply shrugged one shoulder while taking a sip of his old fashioned.
“Have you met her family yet?” Toni asked.
“Nah. But I plan on it. She’s from Houston so we’re going there for a weekend. Mostly her mother’s family. She doesn’t have a relationship with her father’s side.”
Leo chuckles, “I met Treasure’s dad…man has a mean right hook I’ll tell you that.”
Erik’s eyes bugged out over the rim of his glass. Toni’s mouth hung open.
“It’s all good now. It was mostly because he has a way of talking to her in the most disrespectful manner. She’d endured that bullshit for years and I wasn’t going to stand there and watch him belittle her. So, I spoke up. We tussled for a bit, I walked out of there with a busted lip. He ended up with three cracked ribs. Nice guy…”
Leo was just as much of a hot-head as Erik. There have been plenty of times where Leo got himself into altercations that could have landed him in jail. Just a crazy white boy.
“I say that to say…you may run into some issues with her family for a number of reasons. Don’t be like me, E. Have some reason. Channel your inner Toni.” Leo explained.
“Thanks for the advice,” Erik replied with a shake of his head.
Leo clinked glasses with Erik and then his eyes went towards the front of the bar where he recognized someone. Erik followed his gaze and noticed DeMarcus walking in wearing a black linen button-down top, matching black pants, and designer sneakers on his feet. He had a fresh line-up with the waves on swim. As he made his way towards them, he threw his hands up in greeting. Leo sat his drink down and brushed past Erik to give DeMarcus the meanest dab that sounded like a loud clap. He pulled DeMarcus in for a bro hug, patting him on the back.
“Marcus! What’s good, man?! Long time no see! What the fuck, Stevens?! Why didn’t you tell me this asshole would be here?!”
“Leo! Crazy fuckin’ Leo! What’s good, cuz?! Aye! Toni! Looking good my dude!”
“What’s up, De!” Toni shouted.
“Get a motherfuckin’ drink you fuckin’ asshole!” Leo gripped DeMarcus’ shoulders before shoving him away towards the bar. That action caused Leo’s Prince Charming haircut to fall messily into his eyes. He smoothed his hair back as he walked back to the pool table.
“Let me take this off,” Leo removed his leather biker jacket, jacked arms with tattoos showing from his black, distressed muscle tee.
“Here we go,” Toni spoke with a hushed tone.
“To have you two in a room again…memories,” Erik said.
“Makes me want to return to practice.” Leo replied.
“I’m back…”
DeMarcus sauntered over with his drink. He checked his phone while taking a spot next to Leo.
“Y’all mind if a lady joins us?” DeMarcus asked Toni and Leo.
“Who? Your wife?” Toni replied
“No. Her name is Teairra. She works with Erik and I.”
“Fine with me.” Leo said.
“I’m cool with it,” Toni brought his attention back to his drink.
“So, how’s everything?” Leo asked.
“Same old shit, just three babies added into the equation. You?”
“Life’s great. I just came back from Egypt with my baby doll. I’ve been enjoying life.” Leo replied with a content smile.
“Baby doll?” DeMarcus raised an accusatory brow at Leo.
“Treasure. She’s my sugar baby.”
“Sugar baby?”
“Yes, Marcus.” Leo shakes his head.
“So, Erik has a girlfriend younger than him and you have a sugar baby?”
“We all have sugar babies, DeMarcus. Well, Toni just married his so technically she’s his wife now. Erik’s thinking about proposing. Jamie is the only one missing tonight.”
“How the fuck did y’all pull this off? And why the fuck was I left out?”
“Because you’re married.” Erik blurted out.
Leo peered at Erik, “Well…technically I was married when I started messing around with Treasure—”
“But you were in the process of divorce. This fool isn’t.” Erik argued.
“I know this nigga ain’t got morals now.” DeMarcus jokes.
“Did I ever cheat on my wife?”
“No, but I’ve seen your eyes wander many times.”
“It happens,” Erik shooed DeMarus, “I’m not doing this with you. We all know how you treat Yvette.”
“Guys, relax, yeah? Let’s drink and kick it!” Leo said.
Erik heaved a sigh before downing the rest of his drink. He excused himself to the now crowded bar for another drink. It took him ten minutes to get another glass of bourbon. When he returned, Teairra had made an appearance. She was dressed in a strappy, slim-fit, all black, body con dress. She didn’t leave anything to the imagination with her cleavage hanging out. All black stilettos on her feet with toes painted red, silver hoops in her ears, and her hair styled in a low bun. Those topaz eyes were on the prowl. She looked like she came for a good time, not a long time.
“Hi! I’m Teairra,” She shook Leo’s hand before turning towards Toni, “Nice to meet you both.”
“Leo.”
“Toni.”
“Wow, so these are your friends, huh? Interesting.”
Teairra’s eyes lit up like Christmas. What she saw was a potential train. Erik knew that look in a woman’s eyes.
“It’s so great to finally meet you guys!” Teairra said.
“You too, beautiful. So, you know these two?” Leo said.
Teairra spotted Erik and she didn’t hesitate to nibble on that pouty, bottom lip and eye-fuck him. Meanwhile, DeMarcus wasn’t feeling that. He gave Erik a dirty look that went unnoticed.
“Oh yeah. This one here is my favorite doctor, and this one—we go way back. He went and got married on me and shit!”
“Don’t do that, T. You know it’s still all love,” DeMarcus spoke defensively, a hand to his chest as if she’d pierced his heart.
“Mhm, if it’s still all love, buy me a drink,” Teairra sassed, poking her curvy hip out and thrusting her chest forward.
“You know I gotchu! Whatchu want, love?”
“Surprise me.”
DeMarcus licked his lips at her before walking away. Erik and Leo share a look and then they cut their eyes at Toni who was trying to contain his laughter.
“So, how do you all know each other?” Teairra asked.
“I met Toni from school way back when. Leo and I used to work together.” Erik said.
“Okay! Do any of you handsome men have a wild story to share about Dr. Stevens with the gifted hands?”
Toni and Leo share a laugh. DeMarcus returned with what looked like a lemon drop martini. Teairra accepted the drink, taking a sip while staring Erik down. Erik looked away and down at his now empty glass, finding the melting ice within interesting.
“Well, This man here is a great dancer. He’s the life of the party for sure.” Toni replied.
“Really?! You dance, Dr. Stevens?”
“I do.” Erik said.
“He’s a sugar daddy.”
Erik slowly looked over at DeMarcus. Teairra’s mouth dropped open and she looked at Erik with shock.
“A sugar daddy?! What the hell?”
Leo and Toni remained silent. They could practically see the anger in Erik’s body language.
“He’s also hot-tempered. Everyone here knows not to fuck with him. Right, DeMarcus?” Leo said in a playful manner to mask the warning behind his words.
DeMarcus didn’t seem to catch the hint.
“He likes them young, T.” DeMarcus continued.
“Erik, how old are you?” Teairra asked.
“I’m forty-five. I’ll be forty-six in October.” Erik said
“You’re only like…eleven years older than me. So, that makes me young too, right?”
Teairra gave Erik a purposely slow once-over. She wanted Erik badly and he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.
“T, calm down. He’s spoken for.” DeMarcus said.
“And you’re married,” Erik looked at DeMarcus with a glare.
DeMarcus didn’t have a rebuttal for that. Leo cleared his throat before asking if anyone wanted to join him in a game of pool.
“Damn, I mean…I was right there, Erik!” Teairra laughed.
DeMarcus took that time to snake his arm around Teairra’s trim waist. She took sips of her martini while Erik and Leo took up a game of pool. Erik removed his jean jacket and placed it on a stool. The sleeves of his white T-shirt strained against his biceps. Teairra wasn’t paying attention to a thing DeMarcus had to say in her ear. She wanted Erik. Erik could feel her staring but he ignored it.
“What this sugar baby got on me?”
As the game went on, Teairra made her way over to Erik, leaning her body over the pool table while he tried to focus on making his shot. He cut his eyes at Teairra for two seconds before turning his attention back on the game. Erik aimed for a green ball and shot it towards a few balls, watching them scatter. He stood up and when he looked down at Teairra, she was staring at his crotch. Erik gave the stick to Leo and created space between him and Teairra.
“You don’t want to answer my question?” She pestered.
Erik ignored her.
“You need another drink, beautiful?”
DeMarcus came over with a fresh martini. Teairra gave him a flirty smile, accepting her drink.
“Why do you keep bothering, Erik? Bother me.” DeMarcus said.
“If I bother you, it’s gonna be trouble, De.”
Leo took his shot and one of the balls fell into a corner hole. Erik kissed his teeth before snatching up the stick.
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game!” Leo shouted.
“Fuck you!” Erik yelled back.
“Don’t be a sore loser, E,” Toni jokes.
“You think I'm a lose, Toni? Like you?” Erik laughs.
“Fifty bucks on Leo!” DeMarcus said.
The game continued on, and Teairra was becoming increasingly drunk. Erik started to become concerned that maybe she should stop drinking. Any surface in that bar, Teairra was arching her back over it and popping her ass. That shit was moving like water. DeMarcus was stuck in a trance. He was playing a mental game of tug-a-war right before them. One part of him wanted to go over and get behind that while the moral part of his mind told him no.
Leo missed an opportunity with a shot and an uproar happened between him and DeMarcus. Erik simply laughed to himself while motioning for Leo to pass him the stick. Leo kissed his teeth as he watched Erik take a final shot, the shot that made him win the game. Teairra cheered and clapped while DeMarcus sulked. He reluctantly slapped the fifty bucks onto the pool table.
“Nah, De, save that for some formula or something.” Erik quipped.
The laughter that erupted around them had DeMarcus making a stank face. Erik didn’t want his money.
“You think you’re a big shot because you got all this money! I got bread too, nigga!” DeMarcus shouted defensively.
Erik scrunched his handsome face, “never said you didn’t. I’m just saying you got a family to feed.”
DeMarcus sucked his teeth before grabbing his drink to finish. Erik could tell he was drunk.
“De, it’s cut off time, bro. You had enough.” Leo said.
“The one time I got to hang out with you fools and now I’m drinking too much?! Let me live!” DeMarcus argued.
“It’s a hotel across the way. Maybe you should sleep it off.” Erik suggested.
“I got a Lyft here but I’m definitely getting a room for the night. Those martinis caught up with me,” Teairra said.
“I’ll get you some water.”
Erik left to grab her some water from the bar. Blackbird was wall-to-wall filled with people. Erik couldn’t even hear himself think. He made it to the bar after shoving past some people. He flagged down a woman with electric blue hair and she made her way over towards him. Erik ordered three waters and she gave him three bottles. On his way back to the pool table, Leo and Toni were talking closely. Erik searched and there was no sign of Teairra or DeMarcus.
“Where did they go?” Erik interrupted.
“De went to the bathroom. Not sure where Teairra went.” Toni replied.
The mention of the bathroom made Erik feel the urge to relieve himself. He sat the bottles down and walked towards the men’s. When he arrived, he opened the door and it was mostly empty except for the first stall. Erik could see two pairs of feet from beneath the stall. A man and a woman. He walked over to the urinal and while he relieved himself, he could hear sucking and slurping sounds coming from the stall. He already knew what was up.
“Mmm, yeah…suck that dick, T.”
Erik flushed and went to wash his hands. He could only shake his head. The noises grew louder and shuffling intensified.
“Mhmm…”
“This nigga…”
“Erik?”
The stall door pushed open and standing there, spit covered dick hanging out through the opening of his briefs, shirt pushed up beneath his chin, was DeMarcus. Teairra was crouched down in her stilettos with one hand full of dick and the other reaching out to keep the door open. Her lips down to her exposed chest was covered in spit. Her once pristine makeup was now ruined from the amount of tears that had fallen from deep throating. Erik couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“What the fuck, T?” DeMarcus blurted out with agitation.
“What? He can join us if he wants. I’d love to suck both of you off…I wanna see what that dick tastes like…I bet it’s pretty…isn’t it, Doctor?”
Erik felt his dick jump. He had to get out of there and fast. The bourbon coursing through his body mixed with the sudden horniness was all too much.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Suit yourself, maybe next time then.”
Teairra winked at him before turning to suck DeMarcus off again. She didn’t even shut the stall door. She was throating him with no hands all the way down to the base. DeMarcus threw his head back and groaned. Teairra dropped her hand from the stall door to grab DeMarcus by the balls. The door slowly closed, hiding them from sight. Erik walked out and he tried to shake the feeling of his hard dick pressed painfully against his jeans.
“You good?” Toni asked.
Leo gave Erik a weird look. Erik grabbed his Jean jacket and proceeded to slip it on.
“E?” Leo tapped him on the arm, “What’s up?”
“…DeMarcus is getting his dick sucked by Teairra in the bathroom.”
Toni and Leo looked at each other with big grins. They started laughing, too far gone off of whatever they were drinking.
“Couldn’t even wait to get back to the hotel! Damn! She doesn’t waste time…”
“DeMarcus better clean himself off well before going back home to Yvette…”
Erik checked the time on his phone. It was after 11 pm and he was jaded.
“Listen, I’m about to head out.” Erik announced.
“So are we. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” Leo said.
“Yeah, let me get back to Emerald.”
They all said their goodbyes with hugs and handshakes. Neither of them cared about DeMarcus or Teairra. They all knew he was going back to the hotel with her to finish.
Sienna was dropped off at her apartment by one of her girl friends that she hadn’t seen in months due to school. Dressed in a dark wash denim mini dress with platform pink heels, Sienna waved goodbye, almost tripping in her shoes when she stepped up onto the curb. They shared a laugh before Sienna entered her building.
She fixed the front of her dress, frustrated that it had slipped. Inside, Sienna rode the elevator up to her apartment and quickly made her way inside because her feet were killing her. She decided on a last minute dinner celebration and had one too many green tea shots. It felt like the room was spinning. She clumsily made her way over to one of her sofas, flopping down haphazardly before bending over to loosen the straps that wrapped around her calves.
Giggling to herself, Sienna placed her shoes to the side so that she could stand. She walked towards the kitchen to grab herself some water and a liquid IV packet. She proceeded to mix it in a cup and afterwards she walked back to the living room. Sienna wasn’t quite ready to get in bed, too excited and turnt to rest. She was so close to the finish line. All of that hard work will finally pay off. In just a few short weeks, she’ll be graduating. Her pinning ceremony is within a week, and she had a photo shoot set up for her cap and gown pictures.
Sienna drank her liquid IV and decided to put on some music. R&B playlist on, she stood up to go take off her dress and put on a robe. On her way to her room, Sienna’s phone buzzed. She sat her shoes down next to her bed and opened her bag to retrieve her phone. There, she could see that Erik was calling. She smiled to herself before accepting the call.
“Are you home?”
“Hello to you too, Sir,” Sienna rolled her eyes, “To answer your question, yes, I am. I just got in.”
Sienna could tell that he was driving.
“I’m on my way.”
“Did you just get off work?”
“No. I went out for drinks. I have a story to tell you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Aight, I’m five minutes out. I’ll see you when I get there.”
“Okay, drive safely. Love you.”
“Love you too, lil’ mama.”
Sienna had plans to do a late night Only Fans session. Maybe this could be the introduction into Erik being a part of it. Why not? That’s her man. She’d been doing sex work less and less since being with Erik and she missed it. She no longer needed the money, but the fantasy of so many people tuning in to watch her fuck her man turned her on something serious. That was her entire aesthetic anyway. Be a slutty sugar baby for an older man. And her boyfriend is all of that.
Sienna took a quick shower and when she finished, she rubbed down with some scented body oil and Orphic body shimmer oil. Her makeup was still intact and she quickly set up to film. She could hear the door opening so she made her way out of the room, cracking the door. She secured her magenta, silk robe around her body and spotted Erik taking off his shoes and denim jacket. He looked delicious. She could smell his cologne from where she stood. His shoulder-length locs framed his handsome face, giving him a rugged look.
“Hey, daddy…”
Erik’s onyx eyes fell on her and he paused, raking his eyes up and down her body. No matter how many times he saw her, she still got the same butterflies in her stomach. Sienna blushed as she made her way over to him. Arms up and around his shoulders, her robe slid open revealing some cleavage and a little thigh. Erik scooped her up, lifting her off of the floor with his arms circling her waist while she was pressed against him. Sienna gripped his face and leaned in for a kiss. They swapped spit and tongued each other down. Sienna could taste the top shelf bourbon on his tongue. She broke the kiss and stared into his eyes longingly while rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs.
“I missed you…I’m so proud of you.”
“I missed you too. Thank you, daddy,” Sienna smiled, “How was your day?”
Erik walked over to the couch with her still in his arms. He carefully sat down, Sienna straddling his waist. Erik rubbed his hands up and down her ass over the silk robe repeatedly. He rested his head back against the sofa so that he could get a better look at her. His eyes were low and she could feel his brick hard dick against her pussy lips.
“It was crazy. Back to back cases. I took a break after three cases to go down to Radiology and do some readings. I knocked that out in an hour. Went out for drinks…how was your day?”
Sienna toyed with his chain, “Amazing. I went out to eat and had drinks with a good friend of mine. I’m seeing her tomorrow too.”
“Sounds like a good time…”
Sienna gave Erik a timid smile. He pinched her cheek.
“So, what did you want to tell me?”
“Oh,” Erik sat up, “So, I caught up with an old buddy of mine named DeMarcus. He worked the cases with me today, he’s an assistant anesthesia tech. Anyway, he invited me out and I invited Toni and Leo. Jamie couldn’t make it. So, DeMarcus invited Teairra…”
“…Teairra from work?” Sienna asked.
“Yeah, the nurse. She came into the break room and caught up with DeMarcus. So, she showed up tonight with us at this bar called Blackbird. DeMarcus and Teairra have history…they used to mess around during overnight shifts back in the day…”
“Doesn’t Teairra have a crush on you?”
Erik hesitated to respond. Sienna doesn’t like Teairra; she's too touchy-feely. Doesn’t know boundaries. Sienna already knew she was on that same type of shit tonight. She was visibly and rightfully annoyed.
“Why was she even there with a bunch of men? Like what did she think was going to happen? Spinning on all y’all dicks?” Sienna argued.
“Baby, calm down. She tried it but I wasn’t giving her the satisfaction. She ended up sucking dick in the bathroom before I left anyway…DeMarcus. And he’s married with kids. He’s been cheating on his girl for a while now…”
“I’m irritated. Did she touch you?”
Erik’s eyes bore into Sienna’s.
“She kind of…stroked my arm…that’s it. Everything else was just staring me down…”
Sienna’s brows snapped together. She was pissed. Erik tried to sooth her by stroking her arms.
“How did you know she was sucking dick in the bathroom?”
Erik observed her body language closely. Despite her being upset, he was so turned on in the moment. She was doing things to him with that cute frown on her face and the bratty tone of her voice. It was rare that he’d witnessed Sienna like this.
“…I saw them. I saw her sucking his dick…she pushed open the door to the stall so I could see…”
Sienna drew her bottom lip into her mouth and looked up at the ceiling. She folded her arms beneath her breast causing them to sit up and point out at Erik’s face. He could see her nipples straining against the silk. He licked his lips and fought the urge to yank that robe open and suck on her nipples.
“Sienna?”
“What?”
She looked down at him finally with a screwed up face.
“I told you, nothing happened. Why are you so upset?”
She unfolded her arms and her breasts bounced.
“Because, I don’t like her. She wants you and you’re mine. You’re my daddy…”
She pouted and went to lift from Erik. He trapped her with his hands on her waist.
“Sienna, look at me…”
She exhaled before rolling her eyes down towards him.
“Are you sassing me, lil’ mama?”
“Why did you watch? Did you like watching her suck dick?”
Erik looked Sienna up and down. He did. It turned him on. It’s not like he wanted Teairra to suck his dick. Erik has a serious voyeurism fetish. Sienna knows this. She does as well.
“Baby girl…I’m not gonna lie to you…it did turn me on. But, I don’t want her, I want you.”
Erik stroked Sienna’s chin while she stared into his eyes.
“I am your daddy. And you’re my baby.”
“…she wants you so bad. But you’re mine.”
“I am,” Erik smirked, “I am yours. All of me. She wanted to taste this dick and see how pretty it is…her loss.”
Sienna shifted her hips on Erik. His dick was practically knocking at the seam of his pants to be freed. He needed to be ten inches and balls deep in her tight wet puss expeditiously.
“She said that?” Sienna questioned.
“Yeah…all while sucking his dick.”
Sienna scowled.
“That bitch…”
“That bitch ain’t getting this dick though. You know why…”
Sienna looked into Erik’s eyes.
“That’s my dick.”
“Mhm…your dick, Princess. All yours…”
“And she can’t have it…”
Erik licked his lips. Sienna reached between them so she could grip Erik’s bulge. She made a whimper sound in her throat that had Erik biting his lip hard. He wanted to hear her make that sound on a never ending loop while he beat that pussy up.
“Daddy…I’m taking that dick right now.”
Sienna pushed off of Erik and took off her robe. Erik watched that robe fall from her body and the way her skin glowed and glistened with whatever she put on had him stuck. He couldn’t look away.
“Damn, baby…”
He reached out to touch her but Sienna smacked his hand away. Erik cut his eyes at her, staring at her like she lost her mind.
“You don’t get to touch me yet. You owe me for what you did tonight. That dick belongs to me…”
So, she was going to dominate him? Erik could only size her up with a half, dimpled smirk. That won’t last. She’s too much of a submissive. All Erik has to do is whip his big boy out and she’s on her knees.
“I have a surprise for you in the room, daddy…”
Erik didn’t hesitate to push himself off of the sofa. Fixing his strained erection, he followed Sienna to her room. She pushed the door open and Erik walked in. His eyes scanned the room and he noticed that she’d set up to film. He looked at her with an arched brow. Sienna walked out of her closet after two minutes wearing knee-high white socks with pink bows on them and matching kitten ears.
“Get undressed. I want you to lay on your back…”
Erik took his time taking off his clothes. With only his briefs left, he didn’t tear his eyes away from Sienna while he pushed them past his hips. That big dick sprung free and bounced between his legs. Sienna’s eyes followed the motion of his balls and dick swaying back and forth. So pretty and smooth with bulging veins and a fat tip. She could feel her walls clenching in preparation.
“Mmm…it’s definitely pretty…”
Sienna crawled onto the bed and turned around so that Erik could have a view of her pussy from the back. Sienna arched her back deep and when she did, her cheeks spread and he could see an opal butt plug in her ass. He sucked his lip into his mouth and grunted.
“That fat pussy is wet, baby girl…that plug is beautiful in that ass too…mm…you tryna tell daddy something?”
“I’ve been training with my plugs because I want you to fuck me in my ass…”
Sienna spread her cheeks with her hand and that pink puss spread open. She was dripping. That clit was nice and hard, her labia glistened and begged to be sucked on, and her wet hole wouldn’t stop leaking. So juicy and ready for his tongue and dick.
“Sienna…” Erik wrapped a fist around his dick and jerked.
“I want you to lay back daddy so I can ride your face…”
Sienna made room for Erik to climb in bed. She had the camera facing away so his face wouldn’t be revealed, only seeing his lower half. He laid back against her pillows and Sienna got on top of him. They were in a 69 position. Erik’s girthy length was definitely camera ready. The ring light made the vein on the underside of his dick pop out. Sienna could feel him spreading her wide to the point where she could feel cool air on her clit.
“Mmm, yes, eat that young pussy…gobble it up…”
Sienna stared into the camera while Erik’s big dick sat against her cheek. She rubbed her face along his length like a dick-crazed slut. Her tongue swiped from his balls all the way to the tip. With each pass of her tongue, she would leave behind a trail of spit that shined.
“I love this big, daddy dick so much…”
Sienna opened up and sat his dick in the back of her throat. She made herself gag on it. Erik was busy sucking on her pussy. Sienna sucked long and hard while cupping his balls in her hand. She would push up on his sack to force-feed her throat some dick. She became cross-eyed in a slut-induced trance. Her lips popped off when Erik started slurping loudly while spanking her ass.
“Yes! Mmm…daddy…keep doing that…you love the way my pussy tastes? Hmm?”
Sienna lifted her hips so she could rock back and forth on Erik’s tongue while sucking his dick. Each time her pussy would meet his tongue, Erik would swipe and flick her clit.
“I love the way your tongue feels on my pussy…”
His big dick was back in her mouth like it never left. With a roll of her neck and a tighter grip of her lips, Sienna sucked like her life depended on it. Saliva formed bubbles that trailed down to Erik’s balls. She had his ass then. He popped his thick lips off her folds and moaned into her pussy.
“Uhhhh, fuck…suck that fuckin’ dick, Princess. Eat daddy’s dick up…fuuuuckkkkkkk….”
Erik went back to feasting on Sienna’s pussy. His tongue caught her creamy lips and he cleaned her up before sucking her clit again to produce more. She was a mess. His lips were covered in her arousal. The most he’d ever witnessed. This Onlyfans shit must be a huge turn on for her.
“Daddy, I’m gonna cum in your mouth!”
Sienna jerked Erik’s spit-covered dick while her face frowned with ecstasy. Her body shook with her release, Erik’s face practically between her cheeks. He didn’t stop eating her pussy. Sienna slurped on Erik’s tip while fisting his dick and she could see his thigh muscles contract and his toes curl. He was about to give her a nut to remember.
“Give me that nut daddy…I want it all over my face…”
“Mhmmmmm,” Erik could only hum because Sienna’s hefty cheeks were sitting on his face.
“It’s so thick…I can feel it swelling in my hand…this big dick…cum for me…give me that cum…I want it…”
“Hmm! Mmm! Hmm!”
His cum shot out from his slit and landed all over her chin and lips. The more she jerked and sucked, the more he came. That creamy, white nut trickled down to his balls and Sienna didn’t leave any of it behind. She stared into the camera with her doe eyes while covered in cum.
She lifted off of his face so he could breath and Erik sat up while Sienna moved to his side so that they could focus on his dick. He was still rock hard, dick saluted and balls tight. He was ready for more, and it always amazed Sienna how much stamina he had for his age. He could go multiple rounds and keep up with her.
Jerking his dick, Sienna and Erik kissed, aware that his cum was still on her face. Sienna broke the kiss and stared Erik in the eyes while slowly beating his dick.
“Who’s dick is this?” She whispered seductively.
Erik licked his lips, “Yours…”
“This my dick, daddy?”
“Mhm…”
Sienna started licking and sucking on Erik’s neck.
“I wanna ride my dick…”
“You better ride it all the way, baby girl…”
“That’s how I do it, I want all this dick in my pussy…”
Erik smirked at her, “I wanna feel that pussy deep. If you gon’ take charge, you better do it right or I’m a fuck you myself.”
“When have I ever backed down from a challenge? Hmm?” Sienna replied sassily.
“Let’s not get bold for your fans, Princess. You know daddy have that ass crying. I’m extra hard right now too,” Erik took it upon himself to show her just how hard, “Don’t think because that puss nice and ripe I won’t dig you a new fuckin’ hole.”
Sienna almost came from his words alone. Such a nasty man. She could only whimper as she threw one thick leg over him to straddle him. Erik’s wide palm with outstretched fingers whacked each mocha cheek with force. The feeling of his hand spanking her sent a vibration down to her clit.
“Do that again, Unh,” Sienna arched her back over Erik and started twerking her ass. Erik alternates his spanking, his hand coming down with force. Her flesh stung so good and the closer his hands were to her pussy, the more she leaked.
“Put this dick in, Sienna. Hurry up.”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
“C’mon, lil mama. Get on this dick before you make me mad.”
She did as she was told even though she was supposed to be the one dominating him. Sienna pointed his tip at her opening and she thrust her hips back so he could slide in. He looked into her eyes and she looked at him with a stuck expression on her face.
“Mhm,” whack! “Ride this fat dick.”
“This dick feels so much bigger inside of me!”
Her ass sat on his balls. Sienna positioned herself so she could rock back on him. Planting her hands against the bed, Sienna started bouncing. Her ass ricocheted and created a loud collision. Erik kept his arms outstretched, fighting the urge to grab her waist, plant his feet into the mattress, and ram his dick in. She was doing her thing though, wetting his dick up good.
“That’s it, fuck this dick, Princess. Good girl…show me this dick is yours…get down on this dick…”
“Yes! Oh, fuck,” Sienna felt chills all over, “It’s hitting my spot!”
They could both tell. Erik could feel her walls repeatedly squeeze him and the way he glided in and out of her pussy had his lip poked out and his eyes low. That pussy was creamin’ all over his dick. Sienna could feel nothing but his thick pole wet and hard going in and out of her never ending. It sent tingles all throughout her pussy.
Sienna looked back and she gasped. Creamy and wet. It was a beautiful sight. She was loving that dick in her pussy so much that she had to get up on her feet to ride it. Erik made a fist with his hands. A deep growl rumbled in his chest. Sienna looked down at him with spit hanging from her mouth and her eyes crossing. She was cumming.
“Look at that dumb, stuck look on your fuckin’ face. You cummin’ ain’t you? Huh?!”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
“Shitttttttttttttt—”
Sienna came down on Erik’s dick and squirted. Her body convulsed out of control. Erik had to hold her in place, afraid that she would fall off. The mess she made was nothing but a sticky, creamy, puddle. Erik’s dick slipped out of her wet hole and he sat up on his elbows to admire it. Damn, he wanted to taste it. His tongue ached to taste it. With a glint in his eye, Erik gave Sienna a look that told her ‘end this Onlyfans shit right fucking now’. Sienna took the hint and ended the recording, planning to upload it later.
“I want you to look at all this mess you made on me…”
Sienna peered down at Erik’s dick. She formed a crease in her brow while sucking on her finger.
“Clean your mess up. Get down there and clean this dick off.” Erik barked out.
Sienna didn’t hesitate to put her face between his legs and clean his big dick off. Erik was still solid and ready for more.
“Yeah…you know not to forget these nuts…now, who’s in charge?”
Sienna pulled her lips off of his sack to stare at him.
“You.” She replied with a small voice.
“Show me that pretty ass pussy…”
Sienna turned to face him. She leaned back on her hands, got up on her feet, and spread her thighs. That flower opened up and all he could see was a wet and gushy mess. It was all over her lips, clit, and inner thighs.
“Damn…lil’ mama…”
Erik sat up and got down on his knees on the floor. He dragged Sienna towards the edge of the bed and instructed her to stay just like that. Pussy opened wide, legs pushed out, and eyes on him. Erik looked up at her through his lashes, curled his long tongue, and licked to his heart's desire. Sienna chewed on her bottom lip and fought the urge to close her eyes. He cleaned off her inner thighs so attentively. Each pussy lip he would suck into his mouth leaving behind a trail of spit. This man was a fucking pussy monster. She couldn’t hold her weight anymore. That didn’t fucking matter to Erik, he had her knees by her ears and his plump lips all over her pussy.
“Daddy…daddy, please,” Sienna cried.
Literal tears streamed down her face. It was that good and that overwhelming. Her inner thighs bounced out of control and she gave into the feeling as his lips sucked her clit. One weak hand reached out to put his locs into a tight grip.
“Unhhhhh, uhhh, unhhhh, unh—uh-–uhn–uhhhhh—”
She cried with her release. Erik kissed up her stomach until he was face to face with her. He tongued her down before dragging his tongue down her neck and then he gripped her titties, pushed them together, and feasted on them. This fine ass, grown man knew how to make her body feel and do things she’d never experienced. It was overwhelming and refreshing at the same time.
“Keep your legs open just like this…this how I’m fucking you now…”
“Huhhhhh—”
He was back inside and balls deep. Erik sat up, locs swinging in his face, built body working overtime to fuck her. He had her ankles pinned back so she couldn’t move. Sienna clawed the sheets and stared down the valley of her body at Erik beating her pussy up.
“Such a big girl…mmm…you take dick so good, baby…just how daddy likes it…ready for this dick all right…dick hittin’ that pussy, yeah?”
She was squirting again but Erik fucked through all of that.
“I want that ass next.”
His tone was rough. She couldn’t wait.
“I can’t wait—daddy!”
Erik held his dick deep and thumbed her clit. She came again.
“Look at this shit…”
Erik withdrew his hips and Sienna looked down at how messy his dick was. He moved his hips so that his dick could glide between her folds.
“I'm taking this plug out now, okay?”
Erik didn’t wait for her response. He gently tugged and the tight sphincter of her anus contracted. She moaned at the sensation, more than ready to feel his dick in her ass. She’d prepared for this moment long enough. It was time. She showed him where her lube is and Erik made sure to use enough to make the experience more enjoyable.
“Aight, turn around and arch your back…”
Sienna got into position. Erik folded her legs and climbed onto the bed, standing above her. He crouched down and aimed his dick for her ass. His tip sat at her ass and then he pushed, her back-door entrance opening. She. Clenched up and sucked him in, Erik hissing from the sensation.
“Oh my goodness…”
Sienna exhaled, relaxing her body while Erik pushed deeper.
“It’s going in my ass…fuck, it’s going in my ass…”
Mouth hanging open, eyes wide, Sienna could only look up at Erik. He caught her eye and winked at her with a lick of his lips. He was finally all the way inside.
“Tight ass…damn, damn, damn….”
He pulled back and Sienna gasped.
“Spread your legs…keep that ass open, Princess.”
“It’s so much…”
“I know, but it feels good, right?”
“Yes…”
It was such a great feeling.
“Let me dig this ass out…”
He increased the tempo. Sienna gripped the sheets. To feel his big dick from tip to base go in and out of her had her speechless. Erik got down on his knees behind her and kept her cheeks spread open with his large hands. Now, he was going faster. Sienna drooled onto the bed.
“Fuck my ass, daddy…”
“Fuck this ass? You want me to dig you out?”
“Please!”
Clap! Clap! Clap!
“OH FUCKKKKK!!!!!!!”
Erik had Sienna by her shoulders. Tears streamed down her cheeks while her ass continued to get pounded out.
“FUCK MY ASS GOOD, DADDY!”
Her pussy leaked. Erik noticed and swiped his thumb between her folds until he found her clit. With all her wetness, he flicked her clit with his thumb.
“That clit is nice and fat right now. Ass so fuckin’ tight…gotta open this tight shit up.”
“You fuck ass like that?!”
Sienna was astonished. She loved anal. This man could use all her holes. She wasn’t letting him go. He was the complete package. He pinched and tugged on her hanging clit and labia and that sensation mixed with his dick pounding her ass out had Sienna seeing the galaxy.
“You nasty, good pussy, tight ass, deep throat slut!!!!”
She loved his degradation.
“I’m your nasty slut!—”
“As long as you know who the fuck you belong to! Ugh!”
“Are you cumming daddy?! Please cum in my ass! Please!”
“I fuckin’ love you!”
Erik’s balls slapped Sienna’s clit harder. Harder and harder. He was about to explode. Her asshole got the pounding of her life. She buried her face into the sheets as sweat poured from her body.
“Ugh! FUCK!”
Hot cum filled her ass. She was dizzy with lust and her body ached for more.
“Daddy…fill my ass…”
“Gahdamn, Sienna…”
@hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixt @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @princessxotwod @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics
#nahimjustfeelingit-writes#killmonger imagine#killmonger fanfiction#killmonger smut#erik killmonger#sugardaddyerik
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TERFs GO AWAY I’m nonbinary and as this is a look that is about exploring my own identity, gender is included in that. I’m not a woman, I am not your “divine feminine”. An edit I wish I didn’t have to make.
Here are some of the pictures of the Minoan/Mycenaean look I did yesterday! Mind you, it's all very generalized since I haven't made any clothing studies from these time periods yet, so I had just grabbed random clothes and jewelry from my closet that I could at least pass off as the ~vibe~ . I went for a pretty simple interpretation of makeup back then and ended up not really putting a whole lot on my face before the decorative elements, just a very thin amount of white foundation, but even so I figured my skin is pretty pale as it is that if this were historical I probably would have just been fairly bare faced anyway in a similar fashion. I tried to stay pretty close to how makeup might be applied back then and not go too anachronistic, and if I did it was for photographic or artistic purposes (namely, light contouring on my nose not for any sort of like, modern feature minimization, but to make sure my own Greek ethnic features weren't flattened by lighting levels or camera perspective)
Overall this was a really fun exploration of historic culture! Seeing the finished makeup on myself kind of brought over this cultural euphoria for me, even though many things have changed since ancient Mediterranean civilizations, there's almost a feeling of sameness in exploring the history of your heritage and seeing someone who looks or feels like you in ancient art. (But also a brief little disclaimer: the Mediterranean has been an extremely diverse region for thousands of years! I'm just one way of looking and that absolutely isn't representative of all people of Greece, neither then nor now!) I want to explore more historical fashions within this realm, and next time try a more extreme version of the makeup, something that feels more on the ceremonial side than casual like this one.
#wahoo! yippee!!! anywho enjoy and sorry i rambled a lot in the post im not good at being a brief person lol#historical fashion#ancient greece#minoan#mycenaean#greece#greek#history#antiquity#ancient greek#my cosplay
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Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.
In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:
1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.
2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.
3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.
4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)
5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.
6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.
I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.
How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.
1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.
2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs
3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.
4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.
Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.
At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣
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