#black cholo

[highsocietygifs]

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄʜᴏʟᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

(cholo basically means a hispanic boy who dresses with baggy clothing(search up cholo outfit), and like has a diff speech pattern, btw imma js make him kinda like an edger bc why not they fine asfff)

(his name gon be miguel bc yes)

yan cholo who is ur hb, who you met freshman year in homeroom.

You were busy on your phone before getting your leg kicked by someone beside you. You looked at whoever did that with narrowed eyes, why did this beta js kick a sigma like you..???

He had an fluffed up edger cut, with a slit eyebrow. He had some baggy clothing, proclub grey sweatpants with a black T-shirt with a silver necklace. He was attractive to say the least.

"Put your phone away, chica! (girl or chick)"He said playfully, nodding his head to the teacher making you look, he was helping to you to not get your phone taken by that old ass dusty teacher

you quickly put your phone in your pocket and thanked him. "No problem, hermosa. (beautiful)" He smirked at you, you could hear his accent very well. You tilted your head at him before looking away, not really understanding what was the last word he said (UNLESS U DO, IF U DO PRETEND HE SAID IT UNDER HIS BREATH OR SUM SO U COULDNT HEAR))

yan cholo who began talking to you the whole homeroom after that, and soon you realized he switched his classes to be matched up with yours.

yan cholo who is now ur besty westy hb, who u tell to put u on to someone

ʏ/ɴɴɴʟᴜᴠsᴋɪᴛᴛʏs

miguelllll

put me onto on of ur friendssssss

ᴛʜᴇʏғᴡᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ

ma, dont start with this bullshit

none of those assholes deserve you, alr mami?

yan cholo who buys you cutesy shit even tho he never did that with any of his ex gfs, only you. But he isnt even dating you too!

"hey ma, got you a lil sum" He said as he wrapped his arm around you, interrupting a convo you were having with one of your friends who js stared at him with heart eyes. He gave u a kuromi plushie that had some pocky taped to her hand. You quickly thanked him making him rub his neck sheepishly,before tapping his cheek .

"cmon baby, give me a peck for it, yeah?"

yan cholo who tells you all of the drama and whenever theres gonna be a fight, grabbing your hand and leading you to someone getting pressed if u want to see a fight. But if you dont like ppl fighting, he'll drag you away from it, and distract you with something else

yan cholo who is possesive of you, always following you around in parties, arm either around your shoulder or waist.

There was this one time, he wasnt on your tail or following you since he was grabbing snacks for the both of you guys and some fool from another neighborhood took this as a chance to started talking to you at a party. The guy was laughing, leaning in too close.

For you, it was someone actually wanting you and u were mad excited bc miguel greedy ass wouldn't even put u on to his friends, but to miguel? It was a threat. His fists clenched, his blood boiling as he was walking to you, noticing the guy talking to you.

He stormed over, stepping between them with a cold stare. “You got somethin’ to say to her, you say it to me, homie.”

The guy backed off instantly, giving miguel a dirty look before mumbling something under his breath and walking away. You raised an eyebrow, "Boy, are you fr? I was gonna finally bag someone bruh"

"Ma, you have me. You don't need anyone else."

yan cholo who talks about you to his homies, absolutely gushing over you like u were a celebrity. And his homies were mad confused bc the man has NEVER been obsessed with any girl, not even his past gfs. He would barely even mention his gfs!

yan cholo who whenever you guys hung out, whether it was grabbing a bite at mc donalds or cruising through the streets with the windows down, he treated you like a queen. He’d make sure you had everything you wanted, always checking if you was comfortable, if you needed anything. He'd make sure to pay for everything, not letting you even touch your wallet, He'd open doors for you, give you flowers, on valentines day he'd give you hello kitty bouquets with money, and hot chips

yan cholo who was jealous of any man who got into a 500 mile radius of you

“Yeah, I ran into Alex today at the store, yk that guy that fought with eric? Yeah, he saw me and said hi” You said offhandedly as miguel drove

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He tried to keep his voice calm. “Oh yeah? Did you say hi back? Don't talk to him, princesa(princess). Hes no good for you. ” he finally said, his voice low, like a warning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, catching the change in his tone. “Relax, it’s not like that. He’s just a friend.” Miguel furrowed his eyebrows and kissed his teeth, not bothering to respond knowing he'll start raging.

yan cholo who every morning, he’d be at your locker, waiting for the moment you'll walk down the hall. His eyes would lock onto yours the second you appeared, his heart pounding harder than it ever did during a fight. You didn't notice the way he would glare at anyone near you to back off, and leave the two of you alone.

When you finally made your way over, you dapped him up, and opened your locker. “Hey, you got the notes from yesterday’s class?” You asked him, finally looking up at him.

He’d play it cool, nodding and pulling out his notebook without a word. Inside, though, he was a mess. Every time you spoke to him, he wanted to say something—tell you how he couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you was the only thing that mattered to him, how he couldn't even sleep thinking about you and your gorgeous face. But he couldn’t, instead, he handed you the notes. “Yeah, here. Whatever you need, mami.” He said smirking down at you.

yan cholo who whenver you gave him a casual wave goodbye, he had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and tell her she was his amor (his love) and no one else’s.

yan cholo who plays soccer only to impress you, every kick, every pass, was an excuse to show off for you. He could hear his teammates calling for the ball, but all he cared about was making sure Y/N was watching when he scored. And when he did—blasting the ball into the net with a perfect shot—he didn't bother to cheer. His eyes darting back to Y/N instead, seeing if she was impressed with his goal

yan cholo who daydreams about you before games, His teammates often tease him about his crush on you. They notice how he lights up whenever your brought up in conversations or whenever your around and how he tends to play better when he knows she’s watching

yan cholo who is a lil too obsessed with his hg y/n <333

yan cholo who is ur hb who hates seeing u with men <33

MORE COMING OUT

BTW I DID THIS ONE FIRST BC I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS IDEA SO MCUH HELLOO??

IM MEXICAN BTW SO I THINK ITS OK TO POST THIS IDK

GUYS IS THIS GOOD???? IDKK

HELP I NEED A CHOLO EDGER IN MY BED RN LIKE COME HERE PAPI

HELP I HAD TOOOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

[ki-kink]

Recently won a free coupon for the local barbershop that just opened. I thought i'd check it out but it seems it's in the more dangerous side of town. What do you think i should do? The weirdest part of the coupon is that it specified i should come to the barber shop late night after the closing hours...

I recently won a voucher for a new hair salon that has just opened. I thought I'd check it out, but it seems to be in the more dangerous part of town. What do you think I should do? The strangest thing about the voucher is that it says I should come to the hairdresser late at night after closing time….

It's 22:00. The area is really not very inviting. You're glad you got a parking space right in front of the hair salon. The store is dark. At least the blinds are down. There are a few young Latinos loitering in front of the store. Smoking, talking on the phone… But they have cool haircuts. Very short hair as a rule. But it looks rough and masculine. Still not for you. You also need a masculine and rough body for this kind of hairstyle. You get out of the car. The boys are checking you out? “What are you doing here, gringo?” asks one. You show the voucher. The boys nod approvingly at each other. One of them opens the door for you. One throws away his fag and follows you. He shows you a barber's chair without saying a word. He places a glass with a brownish-clear drink in front of you. Could be whiskey. Or rum. And an ashtray. You say that you don't smoke. He puts you a box of Marlboros without a filter and a Zippo. And then he puts the hairdresser's cape on you.

Even though the store is new, the cape smells of cigarette smoke and sweat. It's actually disgusting. But somehow also a turn-on. “As always, Hermano?” You want to say that you don't know each other at all. But you reply: "¡Como siempre, Hermano! ¿Qué otra cosa podría ser?" Raoul starts to run his hair clippers over your head. Your blonde hair falls to the floor as black hair. Raoul asks how your day was. You reach for the cigarettes, light one and think that the day is just beginning. Raoul laughs. He asks you to light him a cigarette too. Raoul is an artist. He manages to pull off a transition even with short hair. He hits the shaving soap, you lean back. You still have plenty of work to do this evening. You have to look perfect. And Raoul knows how to do it. The Old Spice burns pleasantly. Raoul pulls the cape away. You look in the mirror. Yes, that's you. Un cholo de primera, un príncipe en tu barrio. Camino de convertirte en rey.

¿Pago como siempre?, you ask? Raoul gets down on his knees in front of you and opens your pants. Your cock pops out of your pants like a jack-in-the-box.

[tllgrrl]

Grimes 68 by @tllgrrl aka nefertiri jones

Summary: After almost 8 years apart, Michonne finds Rick Grimes, the love of her life and father of their children, and he brings her into the Civic Republic Military. For the time being: 1) She has to pretend to be someone else to avoid being seen as a threat; 2) He has to figure out a plan for the two of them to get out; and 3) They have to try and act like they’re strangers to each other instead of reunited lovers.

(The key word is “try”.)

* * * * *

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

The steel kill sticks striking against the brick wall rang in the parking lot of what was left of a post office.

A former postal service semi that now had protective grills over the windows led the next herd of the dead, or what the CRM called “deltas”— “delts” for short—into the large space on the one side of the harvest wall.

The shuffling hoard was drawn by the noise and flashing lights mounted on the truck.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

The consignees readied themselves on the other side, and as the delts shambled to open spaces in the wall, each one was met with a blow that drove a sharp, prong-ended spear (“kill stick”) into its skull, followed by a twist of the wrist that destroyed its brain, effectively and finally killing it.

It was a repetitive, bloody, mind-numbing grind, and some said that it was brutal for the workers because it wasn’t easy to completely forget that the delts were once living human beings too.

Grimes had done his time at The Wall. He’d even become a legend with the number of kills he could rack up in a shift.

It was painted in big letters on the side of a nearby building, for all to see:

GRIMES 68.

He was also well-known for the number of attempts he’d made to do something no one else in the City wanted to do: Escape. Wanting to leave the safety and security of the CR so badly that he actually cut off his own shackled hand at the wrist, only to fail again and be brought back to the Wall.

Time and time again an officer in the Civic Republic Military gave him a chance to join up, and he refused each offer, preferring to be at the culling facility, killing the dead and planning his next escape attempt.

Then one day, he accepted the offer. He traded his Consignee jacket for a CRM uniform. Instead of using a kill stick, he got a fancy, deadly prosthetic hand with a retractable blade. He got all kinds of specialized training, all the perks as he rose through the ranks, and he never had to cull delts again.

But now, after having been gone for years, there he was. Back at the Wall. Watching.

Watching her.

The new consignee.

The dark-skinned Black woman with her hair cut short on one side of her head, exposing a beautiful profile; and locs cascading down just past her shoulder in the back and on the other side of her face .

The woman who, after her on-boarding interview, was designated a Type “B”, seeking safety, willing to work, and keeping to herself, but had the carriage and demeanour of an “A” who was always observing, was more than capable of defending herself, and being a provider of safety. A leader.

Word soon got around among the Consignees that the ex-consignee/now military officer known as “the famous Rick Grimes” had not only survived a chopper crash, but he’d started showing up at the harvest wall. Coming back to a place he’d gotten away from years earlier, only to return when a mysterious new consignee was brought into the CRM.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“Hey. Look who just pulled up,” said a consignee who had her red hair tied back with, of all things, a bright pink ribbon that was tied in a bow.

“Holy shit! ‘zat Grimes?” another consignee added, tying a bandana on his head, cholo style, then slipping on his face shield. “He doesn’t have to be here any more. What’s up with that?”

“Bethune’s not-so-secret admirer,” snickered the worker to pink bow’s left, stabbing his kill stick into a delt that sagged and dropped. “She doesn’t see him yet. But she knows he’s there. Watch. In 3..2..1.”

Michonne—known to the other consignees as “Dana Bethune” —stationed at the far end of the wall, continued to methodically dispatch delts.

Then she stopped, looked over her shoulder, and found the tall CRM officer. Standing there, at ease, even with his helmet and face guard on, she knew he was watching her.

It seemed like they stood there, the only people at the wall. 5…10…15 minutes. Watching each other. Breathing the same air. At last…

3 seconds later, she turned her head back to the oncoming delts, and went back to work.

Behind her mask, the other consignees couldn’t see the small smile that graced her lips, or hear her whisper “I found you.”

Behind his mask, no one could see the CRM officer smile as he whispered “You found me.”

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“You see that?” drawled the consignee to pink bow’s right, continuing to spear oncoming delts. “Somethin’s up with those two.”

“I know, right? For the past two weeks, he’s here. Same time every day she’s on shift, just before third break. Look at him lookin’. Even wearin’ the consignee jacket, the mask, an’ her hair all tucked in, it only takes him a second to find her. And a second for her to know he’s here. Like they’re—”

“Might could be that ass is imprinted on his brain!” laughed a big man nearby with a bushy black beard.

“Maybe it’s because she saved his life out there.”

“Peterson said somethin’ about that. It’s true?”

“‘parently so. His chopper went down. Got blown right outta the sky and crashed.”

“You serious?!”

“Word is it was a scrub with some kinda RPG an’ shit,” a consignee added to the story while wiping a splatter of brains and blood off of his face guard.

“Stop lyin’! How’d they even get that? After the Fall, CRM took over most of the bases out there with a quickness.”

“There was military stuff out in the wild even before everything went to shit. All kinds o’ stuff is still out there,” bushy beard opined. “Shouldn’t be a surprise all these years later somebody has a bazooka or some ordinance hidden away. There’s jeeps, even tanks here and there. I lived in one for a couple o’ months before I got found and brought here. CRM scoops ‘em up quick as they can, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. So anyway, the scuttlebut’s that Sargent Major Loverboy there, an’ the other troopers jumped out of the wrecked chopper an’ the scrub starts firein’ on ‘em. The ones he could catch, he slit their throats…with a sword.”

“A what?” bandana scoffed, stabbing into what was left of the next delt’s face. “Get outta here with that BS, man!”

“I’m just tellin’ you what I heard! Grimes was about ta get got, when Bethune comes runnin’ outta the woods, grabs one of the dead trooper’s weapons and shoots the scrub!”

“Wow. Maybe that’s why he’s here all the time,” pink bow chuckled. “Hell, I’d be in love with her too.”

“Get in line,” beard snarked. “You really think those two know each other?”

“Know each other?” the woman laughed, stabbed a delt and shook its eyeball off of her kill stick. “I think they’re fuckin’.”

“No way!” bandana exclaimed. “She just got here!”

<<<Good work, Section 5 and 6 Consignees. Bethune and Clifton, please report to post-shift health check before boarding transport.>>>

“Think about it,” pink bow explained. “Grimes is an officer on the inside now and doesn’t need to be at the Harvest Wall any more. Who’d come back to this shit after their 6 years of consignment is up? Now, all of a sudden, he’s back. Out here almost every day. Why?”

She tipped her head toward the driveway and they watched Grimes remove his helmet and turn completely around to watch “why” aka “Dana Bethune” walk past, avoiding his eyes.

*CLANK…CLANK…CLANK…*

“Oh, yeah…” pink bow grinned. “They’re fuckin’.”

* * * * *

This bit of nonsense was inspired by The Walking Dead spin-off, The Ones Who Live - Episode 3: “Bye”.

Click HERE for the AO3 version.

Thank you for reading!

[3-2-whump]

Relapse: Crumbling Promises

<prev next>

Please heed the TW/CWs on this chapter. Also, thanks @generic-whumperz and @whumped-by-glitter for your input into the ending of this chapter, your feedback has been applied

TW/CW: dubcon (lots of dubcon), allusions to previous dubcon, prostitution, slave whump, degrading language, degraded whumpee (in that whumpee has to haggle their own value -idk what that’s called, but it’s pretty degrading), intimate whumper, possessive whumper, asphyxiation, emotional whump, unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessive relationship dynamics, whumper x whumpee (although pretty unbalanced)

The frenetic stimulation of his cock and the wild fragility in Khaled’s eyes continued to haunt the mob boss long after their reunion of the flesh in the parking lot a month ago. He thought about it from when he couldn’t sleep at night to the first waking moments of consciousness in the morning. He thought about it in the shower, at the gym, during meetings, and in the middle of intercourse at the brothels. It was just as Khaled had said; those girls (and occasional boys) in the whorehouses could only satisfy him for so long, and he believed he had finally run his course after his fourth threesome in a month. Now here he sat, in his desk chair, trying to compose an email he’d rather not send, with his mind far away from the zoom conference he was supposed to be a part of.

He looked over his shoulder at Khaled, who had broken away from his usual positon right behind his chair to water the potted fig tree by the window. Nothing in his composure betrayed his lapse in decorum on that fateful night, though he was moving a lot slower than usual, and his eye-bags seemed darker than his foundation could cover up. Tom studied him closely, noting Khaled had been like this for months now. Was he still sneaking out at night to see that damn cholo? He’d been meaning to do something about his slave’s newfound promiscuity, but something more important always came up, and ever since their near-death experiences, Thomas had been trying to turn over a new leaf and give Khaled a longer leash, metaphorically speaking. Although, if the boy kept dragging his feet, he might tie him onto a literal leash, too.

Some static-y goodbyes and well-wishings sounded from his monitor, signaling the end of the conference call. Tom cleared his throat and jumped in with his own farewells. “Yes, you too, happy holidays, buon natale –yeah, yeah, I’ll see you next year, Matteo. You too, Gio, happy new year! Okay, okay, bye!” He exited out of the call, minimized the screen, and swiveled his desk chair to face the young man by the windowsill. “Khaled, come here,” he called.

As soon as Khaled was within reaching distance, the boss grabbed him by the waist and slung him over his lap, trapping him between the hard edge of the desk at his back and his own body in the front.

“What are you doing?” Khaled neither squirmed or struggled in his grasp, instead opting to stare at him quizzically. “Let me off, I don’t want this-”

“Like you didn’t want it in the parking lot on the night of your birthday last month?” He grinned in triumph as his slave’s face blushed bright red from the tops of his ears down to the black band of his collar. “You do,” Tom whispered, voice low and sultry. “You want this, and you need this, Khaled.” He ran his hands from the young man’s waist up his sides, slightly untucking his shirt in the process. “I’ve seen you work yourself to the bone trying to be my executive assistant. Isn’t it exhausting, working so hard?” Khaled sat as still as a statue as his fingers raked over the front of his body. “Isn’t it tiresome, doing what free people do?” He snaked his hands down Khaled’s sides to dip under his shirt hem, feeling a familiar rush of heat below as he touched the warm skin underneath. “Don’t you just want to relax?”

The way Khaled’s body responded under his hands as he laid him over the desk was nothing like any of the whores the brothels could give him. Here, splayed back-first onto the hardwood, was his own personal fuck hole, who pleasured him exactly how he wanted. “But, this isn’t- I don’t want this,” his slave protested, lightly pushing back, “and this isn’t even what I’m being paid to do anyway-”

“Well, if it’s pay you’re after, I can pay you for this,” he snickered. “It’s called prostitution, Khaled, and if that’s how you want to earn your money, I certainly won’t get in your way.”

“But I don’t want this!”

“Not even for $100?”

Khaled’s mouth snapped shut. Thomas laughed.

“$500.” Thomas stopped laughing.

Khaled stuck his lower lip out and shot him the most pathetic pout he could give. “Am I, your own personal fuck slave, not even worth what you pay your high-class call girls?”

He scoffed incredulously. So, that’s how it’s gonna be? Alright then! “$200,” he countered, “you’re out of practice, and a little too assertive for my tastes lately.”

In an unprecedented turn of events, Khaled wrapped his legs around Thomas’ lower back and pulled him in closer by the front of his shirt. “$450,” he whispered, his soft, sweet lips mere inches from his own. “I’m not as out of practice as you may think, and I can be as meek as a lamb when I need to be.”

The mob boss did not expect this to turn him on as much as it did, and yet the ignition of arousal in his core and the hardening member in his slacks spoke for themselves. He emitted something akin to a purr or a growl. “$250,” he murmured sultrily, “take it or leave it, boy.”

“$300, and I’ll do that thing with your balls that you like.”

“You’ve got a deal!” He leaned in to kiss Khaled’s lips, pinning him further onto the desk as he unfastened the belt and pants around Khaled’s waist and peeled them off. He smiled into the kiss as Khaled yielded to him, opening his mouth so the older man could penetrate his mouth with his tongue and claim every inch inside him. He reluctantly broke off from the kiss to undo his own belt and pants. Once he had gotten himself out, he noted with satisfaction that Khaled’s knees were already hitched up to his shoulders, displaying that perfect set of three and that lovely little hole, all for Thomas J Costa. “And a merry fucking Christmas to me!” he murmured, completely satisfied. He opened the top drawer of his desk, where hiding among the paperclips and stapler refills was an innocuous little bottle of lubricant, with just enough fluid to get them through this session. “I never thought you’d be such a whore,” he teased. “Where is your self-respect?”

“Just hurry up, please,” Khaled whined, cheeks flaming red in –arousal? Shame? Not like Thomas could tell, or care.

“Oh no, whore, I’m gonna make you work for your $300 and ensure you earn every cent!”

He emptied what was left of the lube onto his hardened shaft and threw the bottle away. He gave himself a few quick pumps to spread the slippery substance from base to tip, then aligned himself between Khaled’s spread legs, pushing in without any sort of prelude or preparation. The boy groaned at the sudden intrusion. His nails bit into the wood of the desk as Thomas bottomed out inside of his tight little hole. “Oh my god, how do you still feel like you’re a virgin down there?” he grunted. He began to thrust his hips, slowly at first, then building up a nice rhythm as the lithe body underneath him slowly relaxed and opened for him. “There, that’s it,” he murmured as he leaned over Khaled. “You know how this works…” He nuzzled into the crook of Khaled’s neck, murmuring against the curve of the boy’s neck and shoulder. “Your body knows exactly what to do...” God, even the smell of Khaled’s skin was enough to stoke his arousal into a full inferno. The boss kissed hungrily against Khaled’s neck, breathing in the boy’s scent like it was air and he’d been holding his breath. The whimpers he got out of the boy as he began to use his teeth were some of the best noises he’d ever heard him make. Why on earth would he, Thomas Costa, want to give this up? Why did he ever think he could go one more day in his life without being inside this amazing little being? He sucked what he hoped would be a nice, dark hickey right over the strip of black ink across Khaled’s throat. A collar is not complete without its gemstones, right? he thought. He tongued the tattooed line thoughtfully. He licked at it as if he was trying to wipe it away with his tongue, even though he knew he couldn’t. Those permanent black bands were just another part of Khaled’s near-infinite sex appeal.

“You’re mine forever,” he whispered, lips brushing against that graceful neck with every word. “Doesn’t matter if you’re free one day, because you will always be mine.” And honestly, why would he ever have thought of freeing Khaled, when the boy made him feel this good?

“Please…” Khaled whined beneath him.

He pushed up from the crook of Khaled’s neck, placing the palms of his hands on the desk as he propped himself up. “Please what, my little slut?” he teased. “Please go faster?” Khaled screamed and moaned as Thomas picked up an enthusiastic pace inside of him. He pressed the boy between the hard desk and the weight of his heavier body as he pistoned in and out of his ass with only his own pleasure on his mind.

“What is it you want?” Khaled stared up at him, his dark brown eyes shimmering like pools of liquid ink. “Please what?” he panted huskily. “Please choke me?”

Dark brown eyes widened and his lips formed the beginnings of the word ‘no’ before Thomas wrapped both hands around Khaled’s slender neck. Instinctively, Khaled released his grip on the desk to futilely scratch and tug at his hands as he increased the pressure on his neck. Thomas released one of his hands just to slap him across the face. “Hands on the table,” he growled. A squeaky wheeze left Khaled’s lips as he still tried to pull the remaining hand away from his throat. Thomas slapped him again as he held the boy’s neck in a crushing grip. “Now!”

Khaled dropped his hands to his sides. His tears flowed over his reddening cheeks. His pulse quickened under Tom’s fingers as his trembling lips formed breathy words. “Please… please… no more… I’ve been… good... please…” he whispered hoarsely. His fingers clawed at the desk, carving long furrows into its surface as he struggled to dutifully keep his hands on it. “Mas…ter… please…” he begged.

I have your literal life in my hands, he thought, smiling down with a sadistic awe. No escorts of any economic bracket would ever let the man take it this far. Nothing could ever come close to this feeling of absolute power and control, and only his slave could make him feel this powerful. Only you, Khaled, only you, he repeated in his head as he fucked his way to climax. As Thomas emptied his balls inside Khaled’s hole, he knew he would never feel this way with anybody else. What was this feeling exactly?  he wondered, finally letting go of the boy’s bruised neck. He stayed sheathed inside of Khaled’s warm, tight hole, listening to nothing but Khaled’s desperate breaths for air over the sound of his own heavy breathing. It isn’t possessiveness, it isn’t just lust. He pulled his softening length out of the boy’s fluttering hole, watching his own seed seep out with fascination and pride. So, what was that feeling, where you know nobody else can make you feel this way, and you wouldn’t want anybody else to, anyway?

Khaled turned over, leaning over the desk by bracing himself on his hands as he coughed and sputtered. Once the hacking and coughing sounds had subsided, and Khaled was nothing more than a trembling body barely keeping itself propped up against the desk, Thomas gently turned him around to face him. “You good?” he asked.

Khaled nodded. He had crushed the boy’s throat, making it difficult for him to respond in any verbal capacity. His reddened eyes blinked up at him, shining anxiously under their tear-dampened eyelashes. “Alright, down you go,” he replied softly. He pushed Khaled down to his knees, putting him face-to-face with the cock that had just been inside him. “Clean me off, and don’t forget my balls,” he ordered, murmuring a quiet “you know what I like,” at the end. He brushed a hand through Khaled’s disheveled hair, thinking about what to call that feeling he held for his dear slave. He tipped his head back and groaned as Khaled’s skilled little tongue set to work.

If it isn’t possessiveness, and it isn’t lust, his thoughts began, before he lost himself in the sensation of Khaled’s mouth.

Is it…love?

“Why didn’t you love me?!” Khaled screamed in the parking lot that night.

Love. That was a sensitive subject for Thomas. What was love, even? Between his long-absent stepfather, his sperm donor of a biological father, his neglectful mother who pissed away her inheritance into casinos, and his hard-ass grandfather who demanded nothing but perfection as he pitted brother against brother, the man was painfully aware of the lack of love in his and his brother’s childhoods. The closest thing they had to a loving adult in their formative years was Val, the nanny, but she left them too, once they were old enough.

It was no wonder his honest attempts at dating had failed so spectacularly. It culminated in self-sabotaging his wedding with Lenore on the day of, making sure that she could never break his heart like everyone else by leaving him. It seemed like a good idea at the time. It was not.

The pleasurable oral sensations had stopped down there, and Khaled now stared up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Satisfied?” he croaked. His voice was wrecked. He looked angelic.

“Yes.” Always. Forever.

Whoever said ‘if you love them, let them go’ obviously didn’t understand the pain of watching those loved ones abandon you one by one. Yet here, at Thomas’ feet, was someone who made him feel like the luckiest, most powerful man alive, who outshone everyone else as he pleasured him like no one else could, and who –if he reneged on their deal– would never leave him.

I love you, Khaled, he said in his mind, even if he wasn’t ready to say it aloud.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire

[okratic]

Thrash metal P2 because I said so. I wanna see him wearing black cholo shorts, white socks, doc martens and a kickass jacket.

[princesadaisy]

been watchin eene with my twin so here's some racebent eds!! double dee is black and wears a durag over his cornrows, eddy is mexican and into cholo subculture, and ed is chinese and likes star trek! (hence the necklace!) some silly sketches are under the cut!

^^ my initial sketches!!

ahem. if you made it this far, you get a cookie!! thank you for viewing! <33

[xshegoxo]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTFLSVLSN/

THISS!!! I love his personal style but then again I also dress this way

See chola/cholo chicano/chicana style was made by indigenous people, popularized by black and brown people in the 80s , there’s nothing Latin about it, it was made by indigenous people. (Yes native Mexicans are Native American)

Same with “Latina makeup” ain’t nothing Latin about it, indigenous women have been doing that makeup style for years. It’s a form of war paint.

Latin and Spaniards colonized Mexico, Mexico used to be a part of the americas.

Cuban, Mexican, Aztec, Chicano, Dominican are all Indigenous. There’s even indigenous Brazilians

Spain, Latin America aren’t Mexican. They just colonized Mexico and started breeding so Spanish became the language.

Mexicans are indigenous Native American actually.

Each native group is different but the same, the language is different and the names of food but it’s the same.

Tacos are Native American because the native groups of what’s now Mexico and Navajo created them on fry bread

Native languages sound like modern day Mexican Spanish.

When natives first came to America it was of East Asian south Asian and Siberian descent (it’s why we look Asian now) but we created our own cultures then Mexico “broke off” and Spanish invaded.

But Mexicans are still native. It’s why Mexicans and natives are like 🤞🏽

Food, languages, music, culture, makeup, clothing styles. One in the same. Even our features look the same.

[charmabrasion]

its a little embarrassing as a "music fan" but it takes a huge amt of effort to get an emotional reaction out of me from live music. i think i still dont fully understand the format. i can count the number of times ive had what i would categorize as an intense emotional moment:

1. mirrored fatality inviting us all to build an altar together then drawing everyone into a violent and explosive scream

2. chai covering dancing queen, then doing a james brown style vamp about how i, too, can be cute

3. everyone at the first kikuo show knowing the lyrics to gomenne, implying a certain grim unity

4. getting the shit kicked out of me (positive) by cholos at black midi

someday it might be nice to learn to appreciate a wider range of live moments

[boopsloop363]

I wonder if cholos and the like in Los Angeles know Mexicans in Mexico don’t talk or dress like that. They should actually be called Blaxicans (black mexicans).

Erm anon they're the true heirs to the Aztec empire. They say that themselves anon. Just don't ask em to say it in Spanish or Nahuatl

[burlveneer-music]

My WVUD playlist and stream, 1/27/2025

Clan Caimán - Andanza Luna Horns - Cuidaito Mulatu Astatke & Hoodna Orchestra - Dung Gate Elite Beat - Cosmic Imbalance Sarine - Asas Terrenas (Exordium) Edvard Graham Lewis - Diamond Shell Black Flower - Monkey System (feat. Meskerem Mees) Tomin - Life Vibration Black Finger - Change Photons - Comme un Point Oyobi with Karen Lee Andrews - The Bottle Peni Candra Rini - Tapal Kuda Liar The Natural Yogurt Band & The Oracle - Existence Beat Love Oracle feat. Liang-yu Wang - Radical Risk Part 3 BISSESVINET - Veråb SPELLLING - Portrait of My Heart Causa Sui - Sorcerer's Disciple Cholo Visceral - Algo Anda Mal… tfvsjs - and paint our pupils with the ashes Amoeba Split - The Inner Driving Force Oiapok - Les Grands Equipages de Lumière Actionfredag - Dalai Lama's Five Dollar Mamas I Goku - Evolution Practice

Listen on Mixcloud

[starfxkrinc]

perfume recs please!!! I’ve been trying to get into more of daily perfumes and I’m sick of wearing “generic” ones

- one that’s sweet, flirty, and girly (almost like Ari by ariana grande or mod blush by ariana grande)

- a very cozy one that smells warm but I hateee vanilla scents (makes my head hurt)

so a common thing i see in ur two perfumes are raspberry and rose and raspberry is like a softer less medicinal cherry. its likely what gives ur perfumes that “jammy” quality.

i think you should check these three out. jimmy choo blossom is a very bright and uplifting scent, choloe l’eau de parfum intense is def warmer so may be a fall/winter reach and signorina is this fluffy almost milkshakey sweet rose that i find to be really pretty

now for the last one just walk with me. bc i think what may be happening is with cheaper perfumes theyre made w diff qualitt ingredients, so certain materials arent blended right which may lead to headaches. that being said this one i think if you can find a sample online (like a 1ml) or seeing if you have any niche fragrance stores around itd still be worth trying bc it checks all your boxes

ive smelled this myself and its the most lush, beautiful jammy sweet rose ive ever smelled. it has the rose and raspberry but also black currant, pink pepper, cacao pod etc. im not saying run out and buy it but at least give it a sniff test bc it could legit be a quality thing! bad blended or low quality vanillas are heavy, screechy and headache inducing and this one i find to instead be soft, creamy and supplemental instead of the main star of the show

[the-dance-of-italy]

Ok you all asked for it:

(Well one person did so far)

For all porpouses, im naming mine The Last Testament or TLT, and it's something if a reincarnation AU.

anyway, here's the ideas/HCs or whatever:

Jésus 🇵🇸 🇲🇽:[Still woking on Him]

-One of his parents is a refugee from Palestine into Mexico (Im respecting that fact abt him on account of the aprox. 13,000 refugees living in Mexico) (Haven't decided who tho, probably Miriam)

-Lives in Mexico City...kinda. Isn't really from there. (will elaborate later).

-Has a Pitbull he rescued named Angel

-Likes cumbias, bolero and regional. Is neutral abt banda. Hates corridos. (Music genres)

-Trans FTM and AceAro.

-Works at his parents artisan shop making traditional crafts based on both cultures.

-Went to college for psychology, then dropped out almost two semesters before graduating.

-Autistic and has ADHD. -Artisan / Gaphic Designer. Went to college for political studies and psychology, but dopped out. -Does Gaffiti with Tadeo and Juan often. -Meeting the guy who's supposd to be the antichrist is like a doppelganger sitation for him. -Meets his heavenly parent during a weed trip.

Tadeo (Thaddeus) 🇲🇽: [Woking on him]

-Also lives in Mexico City.

-Has worked both as a taxi driver and as a microbus driver.

-Is a Chivas fan (football soccer team).

-Obv believes quesadillas don't have to contain cheese in them. [Wrong, but he's from the capital so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯].

- Definitely has gotten into heated arguments with Jesús abt it.

- Loves cumbias and rap. Doesn't like banda too much. Hates corridos of all types.

- Definitely a cholo. -Owns a volkswagen beetle. -Has a torta and taco food stand.

Simon P 🇰🇷🇬🇷 (lives in 🇺🇸):

-Works as a butcher or has a fish shop (haven't decided)

-Didn't go to college because he had a child at 19 (almost after highschool graduation. He did love his wife very much despite marrying so young and both still inmature then.

-Becomes a widower after she dies in a fire.

-They had 3 kids that he is left alone to raise.

-Currently 28 y/o and third eldest of the group.

-Very conservative until his eldest child tried to come out to him as trans. Didn't go well at first, with him believing someone put ideas in their head.

-Meets Jesús in a forum online asking fo help about his kid. J' is the one who knocks some sense into him.

Andrew 🇬🇷🇰🇷 (Lives in 🇺🇸):[Still woking on Him]

-23 y/o studying to become an obstetrician, since their mother died giving birth to him, due to a doctor's malpractice.

-Learned about reproductive rights after meeting Juan and Jesús in a forum.

-Closeted gay because of Simon.

Felipe (Philip) 🇪🇸:[Woking on him]

-Runs a bakery with his family in Barcelona. -Besties with Nathaniel

Nathaniel Bartholomew 🇵🇭:[Woking on him]

-Neurologist -Meets Felipe in Spain after going to study abroad there

Thomas 🇮🇳 (Lives in 🇺🇸) : [Woking on him]

- Architect. -Is studying abroad in LA -Has a drug addiction problem - Meeting Jay makes it slightly worse. -His best friend is Lil' James.

Mateo (Matthew) 🇨🇱 (Lives in 🇺🇸): [Woking on him]

-Autistic

-Used to work in border patrol.

'Zi' (Simon Zee) 🇧🇷: [Woking on him]

- They all call him that on account of his name being Simon and the zi in Brazil. -Has Vitiligo

Mary (Magdalene) 🇦🇫🇺🇲: [working on her]

- Drag queen or Trans Woman (Haven't decided, fuck it, why not both)

- Parents disowned her after coming out and kicked her out at 16 y/o.

-Became friends with Jay after meeting him at a shelter. Worked odd jobs with him until they could afford an apartment together.

-Works in the same bar as him.

Jay (Judas)🇪🇬🇺🇸: [Woking on him]

-Went to college for political studies, dropped one semester before graduation and switched to psychology. Dropped two semesters in and switched to Art.

-Has a black cat named Baphy. (Yep, edgy motherfucker.)

-Works at a local gay bar near his neighborhood.

-His parents disowned him after he came out as Gay. Later he discovered he's Pansexual.

-Used to be a sex worker. Sometimes still does it even though he doesn't need to anymore.

- Listens to 80's and 90's music the most. Likes MJ, Bowie, Twisted Sister, Queen, ABBA and Elton John... -Doesn't know what to do with his life -Puts others peoples needs before his own. Cant say no to others. -Great at math, good at administrating money. Actually ends up buying the bar he worked at (with illicit money).

L. James 🇺🇸: [Woking on him]

-Is a Oncologist.

Sean (John) 🇮🇪 : [Woking on him] -Immature -Doesn't know what to do with his life. -younger brother. -Does mostly wheatpaste and sticker art

B. James🇮🇪: [Woking on him] -Punk -Friends call him Jay. Closest friends call him shaggy. -Always starting ending fights with the police -Has moderate alcoholism. -Does gaffiti and wheatpaste.

Juan (John TB) 🇵🇷 🇲🇽: [Still woking on him]

-Obv. Jesús' cousin.

- Left home to backpack travel around Latin America [refuses to go to Europe or the United States, but would love to visit Asia and Africa. Terrified of Australia.]

-Has dreadlocks and they're incredibly well taken care of despite traveling without much rest.

-Meets Andrew and Felipe during a spring break vacation in Colombia. (Already knew Andrew through the forum but didn't know it was him until they met there).

-Vegan probably. -Get's kidnapped by a cartel after messing someone's bussiness. He get's brutaly murdered afterwards by them to get rid of him. Eleazar (Lazarus) 🇺🇸/?? : ryu -Has and incurable illness. -Is always hospitalized, if he's dispached for a while, he's in a wheelchair.

[styleofdiamandis]

PHOTOSHOOT: TOKION FACTORY

Back in December 2010, Marina (and the Diamonds) was photographed by JUCO for Japanese culture magazine Tokion Factory!

All of the colorful looks were styled by JAK. Makeup by Amy Chance and hair by John Blanie.

The first set of photos see Marina donning a beautifully crafted intricate sequin mini dress with Christmas sweater-themed motifs from Ashish's Fall/Winter 2009 runway show.

The black feather and gold chain bracelet, she wears on her right wrist, is by Candace Ang.

For her second look, Marina wore a purple sheer chiffon blouse with ruffled details, and pleated and gathered mini skirt seen in OLIMA's Fall/Winter 2010 debut colleciton!

Los Angeles-based iconic milliner Gladys Tamez Millinery created Marina's green felt hair beret...

...while Jimmy Choo is the mastermind behind these sexy Magnum yellow python and mesh sandals.

Next up, Marina poses in a black satin dress which she crowned with a golden metal spike visor from Ella Zahlan's "Michael Jackson" collection!

The Greek-Welsh beauty also wore a golden fringe necklace by Iosselliani, similar pictured to the one above!

Marina stuns in a black velvet mini dress with glass crosses all over from iconic designer Jeremy Scott's Fall/Winter 2010 collection which she paired with a Gladys Tamez Millinery Fall/Winter 2010 feather fascinator.

For the penultimate look, Marina takes a stance in Brian Lichtenberg faux denim print bodysuit with padded shoulders. Brian's designs are also loved by other singers like Lady Gaga, Beyoncé and Katy Perry.

Her mustard-yellow high-waisted pants from emerging designer Katie Ermilio's 2009 debut collection!

I love mismatched earrings and Marina's definitely fit the bill here!

She paired a single long chain fringe earring by Iosselliani with a white spike drop earring by former jewerly brand Kites & Metal.

Marina completed her colorful look with these Ashish Spring/Summer 2010 metallic gold leather woven platform wedges!

For the final look, Marina is sporting a bodysuit version of this Falguni Shane Peacock Fall/Winter 2010 runway look which was worn with OLIMA Fall/Winter 2010 black wool pleated mini skirt.

Marina's fringe metal necklace with star-shaped crystals on top is yet another beauty signed by Iosselliani!

Lastly, she re-wore her Candace Ang feather bracelet and multiple rings by Han Cholo including his sterling silver snake ring with red stone in the center ($270.00).

[protect-daniel-james]

Who is most likely to announce their relationship by wearing the other persons clothes to training?

Bonus if it is the one who would do it accidentally and the one who would do it intentionally!

I think Antoine is one who is cheeky enough to intentionally do it - but Cholo's clothes are quite low-key, like, it's just a black suit, black tie, it doesn't look that specific, so maybe people wouldn't even notice if Antoine came to the training in that? Like, maybe someone would joke that he looks like Cholo but they wouldn't pick up that it is actually Cholo's - of course Cholo would know and be mortified (Antoine would then flirt with him the whole time, and it would end up with a big fat blowjob in Cholo's car afterward)

Also, this is something that Franko would want from Mason and/or Anthony, but it would have to be extra sneaky (like, wearing his underwear or undershirt). So it wouldn't be really done to "announce their relationship", just to fulfill Franko's fantasy.

I think soft, loving couples would intentionally do this to actually announce their relationship, I'm thinking de Jong/de Ligt, or Ashley Barnes/Ashley Westwood (although tbh I doubt anyone in that Burnley dressing room would even notice them sharing clothes, much less care about their relationship status lmao).