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goodnightallwhites · 4 years ago

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Snowkitty By BlackingPacking

Snowkitty

By BlackingPacking

Submitted: January 23, 2019 Updated: January 23, 2019

Selina Kyle has never been a big part of the Batfamily. Nor has she ever fucked a big black cock. The two are more related than you might think.

Contains: NTR/Cuckolding, Interracial, BBC, SPH

Provided by Hentai Foundry.

Chapter 1 - Selina gets Blacked 2

Chapter 2 - Along Came a Black Spider 9

Chapter 3 - Stephanie Brown and the Blackedcomputer

1 - Selina gets Blacked

Selina Kyle loved Bruce Wayne. Catwoman loved Batman.

But she also loved money- and, while she’d never manipulate Bruce into giving her access to Wayne Enterprises for a job, she had no qualms with breaking into the place- just a quick in and out really, and, just to be extra nice, she wouldn’t steal any extra goodies for herself.

Worst case scenario, she got found and Bruce came- she’d lose the contract, but would have the fun of playing with him, and then the thrill of escape, always a plus.

(She also wouldn’t mind getting a little closer to Bats than she usually did, but, despite all the black he wore, he was still white down there.)

As she disabled the motion sensors on the window of an office atop Wayne Tower and climbed onto it to cut a hole to climb in, she thought about all her experiences with men- at this point, she had pretty much accepted that big dicks were a myth, and had learned to accept the ‘motion of the ocean’ guys and a good-sized dildo when she could. She was always too busy to watch porn. Maybe she’d break into a studio one day and ask what their secrets were.

She was in, the only lighting in the office being the moonlight making everything, from the flat screen TV to the $2,000 chair to the tall, plastic plant in the corner. Artificial but comfortable- like a dildo-

Goddammit, you have to stop getting distracted! Head in the game, Selina- you’ve got the hardrive, all you gotta do is plug it in- wow, right way on the first try- and now for the data dump. Corporate espionage and the secrets of the rich and powerful? Child’s play.

She waited for all that lovely compromising information to upload, lounging on the chair and, when she head the light but firm steps indicative of a muscular man approaching the door, she unzipped her costume down to her crotch, exposing her stomach and all of her cleavage to the cool air.

When the door was opened, she was unsurprised, for a second- she thought she recognized the broad shoulders, the biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt- but then she realized he was wearing a t-shirt- Bruce never wore t-shirts- and, what she thought she should have realized first, he was black.

“What are you doing here?” he asked glaringly, tapping something on his wristwatch.

She kicked the desk, pushing the chair away from it, spinning around the office, her tits jiggling, “I could ask you the same question- who the hell are you supposed to be?” once she spun the chair in front of the dest, she stood up to face him.

“I’m the guy who keeps trash like you out of this building.”

“Trash? Puh! Is it because of how I dress? I didn’t know it became the Victorian Age when in a tower

this tall, Mister, ah-” she pulled out a black leather wallet- “Luke Fox.”

“Wha- how did-”

“Oh, the CEO’s son, I see. I’ve met your father and your company’s owner, but I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced,” said the Cat. She leaned on him, tits rubbing against his chest.

“You’re right, but I think, after all you’ve done with Bruce, I know you well enough.”

Selina encircled one of his muscular legs with her lissome one, but, truth be told, she was concerned- did Luke here know that Bruce was Batman? And did he know how much they’d fucked over the years?

She decided not to let it get to her, “Well, sorry to say, but I don’t really have time to stay and chat,” she said, slinking back, grabbing the drive, and digging her claws into the glass. She waited for the dark young man to make a move.

“Good, because you won’t be talking to anyone except your lawyer,” he declared. Like clockwork- it surprised Selina how much he acted like Batman. His face looked even more driven than Bruce had in his early days, when he was angrier and brasher. She’d forgotten how sexy it was.

Still, no time for reminiscing. Selina pushed into the cracked glass, totally shattering it, letting it fall like water behind her down to the street far, far, far below. She took a step back, and Luke took a step forward. He proceeded towards her, but not before she jumped out the window, totally free.

What she sure didn’t expect was for him to jump after her. Not only did she question what the fuck she was gonna do know, but Luke’s very sanity.

But then she saw a package rocket out of the building, making a beeline towards Luke, then attaching to and encasing him, before the sleek metal parts tightened around his form. It turned on, blue neon aesthetic lights and glowing eyes and, most importantly, a blue bat-symbol on his chest.

So Luke was Batwing. That explained... a bit.

Before she could think of what to think next, he shot down toward her, caught her, and flew her to the concrete top of a nearby tower, one not half the height of Wayne Tower.

She fell on her ass- dammit, he better not have hurt her lovely ass!- while Luke stood tall above her.

“What did you steal?” He asked, voice robotic.

“Maybe I’ll tell you if I can talk to the real you,” she cooed, “take off the mask,” she could feel the open air on her nipples- presumably, the fall made her tits flop out. The price of mixing fun and work- but it wasn’t like the fun would be over now. She hoped she could use Luke easily.

He gulped audibly as the mask receded from his face, exposing his head and neck. He shifted uncomfortably.

She giggled at him, “Well, first of all, I stole this-” between two clawed fingers, the cat held a button. The kind that belonged on expensive business pants. The kind-

“What- dammit!” Luke realized what caused the discomfort in his pants. He turned around to fix them, opening up the bottom half of his suit to adjust himself, muttering in his deep, throaty voice, “Damn new suit.. Shoulda worn the cup..”

“Ah, the cup?” asked Selina, hoping to get him so aroused he couldn’t catch her, “Oh c’mon, you were staring at mine, why can’t I see-”

“No, I-” he fell forward as he felt Selina push against his leg, but in doing so showed Selina what she wanted- his cock half hard, pushing out against his grey underwear in a massive bulge.

“Oh- oh come fucking on, you’re wearing a cup now!”

“No- no, you don’t get it,” he said. In a move clearly done by pure hormones, he pulled it out to show her- and holy hell was it a sight.

Darker than the rest of his milk chocolate skin and, even when at best half hard, as thick as her wrist and twice the length of her hand, it protruded from his muscular pelvis, curving down until the large, deep mauve head pointed straight at the floor, nearly touching Selina's sensitive skin.

Selina’s sultry, deep breaths stopped cold. She reached out to touch it. In her hand, which she couldn’t wrap around it, of course, she felt his blood pump, making his width tug, his head throbbing just a bit.

It was frightening- how was he so big? Bruce's sat snug in her hand when he was rock hard, but this was barely above flaccid, and it fit in her hand, the squishy, yet strong flesh spilling out of her hand. He was like a handful of sand, something she couldn't hold, while Bruce was just one stone. Or a pebble. Eventually, she managed to get her lithe fingers to touch all the way around it, but, as her breaths turned waveringly deep, she felt them barely brush each other, and then be pulled totally apart as he rose to hardness.

She decided that she didn’t want to run away anymore.

“H-how big does it get?” She stared.

“Fourteen inches,” he gulped, more confident now.

“Christ-” she lifted it up, letting the head brush her face, “do they even make cups this big?” was all she could ask.

“It’s.. difficult,” he chuckled, “And the suits are a whole nother thing... this is a new one, you see. I haven’t made the necessary adjustments yet... I’m sorry, lemme just-”

Selina grabbed his plump cock, “Oh fuck no bitch! I’m gonna get this cock- Goddamn it’s big! And why the hell don’t you have your suit fitted for this? Not that I’m complaining...”

“No- I, I make the adjustments myself. Bruce makes the suits-”

“Say no more,” smiled Selina, working her arm to pump his fat cock to hardness, “Goddamn, those rumors are true...” she felt a massive urge to lick at his black cock.

“Rumors?”

“Oh, you know- about black guys’ dicks- don’t tell me you’ve never been in a locker room with any of Bruce or his, heh, little Robins?”

“I don't think you should trust me to be honest.”

“Well, I’ll be honest, I’ve never fucked a black guy, but if I ever had, I’d be thinking about that cock all the fuckin time.”

“Never fucked a black guy, Miss Kyle?”

“Not even when I was a hooker- and no need to be all formal. It’s Selina, at the very least,” she smiled widely as she smacked his meat against her snow white face.

“Alright, Selina- I think I’m there. Wanna take what you want?”

“Don’t ask next time. It’s hotter,” she replied, and then, just slow enough to taste every inch of the massive thing, Catwoman decided she'd go all in, and inhaled his cock, its blackness more than she had ever had before. It tasted musky and strong, pulsating on and heating her little pink tongue.

She widened her jaw to take in his girth, his dick filling both her. She was great at the blowjob face, sucking her cheeks in, but with a black cock the limber woman felt like a chipmunk. It was heavy, too, pushing down on her poor straining lower jaw. Worst of all, she was about halfway down the actual length. She pushed on, feeling her throat expand as she swallowed his length.

She gargled it, then pulled out, coating his big black dick in saliva, more than it looked like her cute little mouth could produce.

Her eyes, however, told a different story. One that said she needed more of this massive dick to suck on, to lick, to drool over, to fawn over, to get all up inside all her holes. With one suck, Selina Kyle became another victim to black cock lust. She totally forgot how she felt about Bruce- emotions were a thing of the heart, and right now, her dripping pussy was the captain of her actions.

She happily slurped him down again, ropes of spit sticking to his veiny dick every time she came off it. She sucked him like a vacuum, her ruby lips stretching across his shaft as she pulled back before going all the way back down again. Lipstick smeared on him, only to be licked back up when her tongue darted all over his cock every time she went down on him.

Slurping, sucking, kissing and licking, Selina gave Luke the best head she ever gave, and the best he’d ever gotten.

“How.. how close are you?” she gasped, just off his hot dick, strings of spit and precum hanging from her lips, dangling onto her creamy breasts.

“To cumming?” he asked, “Not really.”

Well, fuck! Selina’s usual routine (both before and after she found robbing was more fun than sex) was to make him cum with a blow job, then fuck him. But it seemed this ugy had a big dick and could last twice as long as the normal guy,

“Change of plans,” she announced, gulping as she realized her throat felt much wider, “do you wanna take your costume off?”

“For what?”

“To fuck me silly, silly!” She smiled, stripping, letting her leather catsuit fall onto the roof as she crawled back to his erection, licking its tip playfully.

“I’d like to keep it on, if that’s fine with you.”

“Oh, God yes it is,” she licked his balls and up to his very tip, then let his dick drag between her pillowy tits, “keep me naked, all submissive and helpless, you’re so fucking hot.”

Luke didn’t see it that way- he just didn’t want to be disarmed in case he had to fight this crazy white cat burglar bitch, but every second it seemed more like that wouldn’t happen, since she wasn’t stopping.

She gave him a short, toying titjob, rubbing her pale breasts all over his pole, and then stood further up, rubbing his precum against her firm but smooth stomach, before finally standing up straight, his cockhead poking just under her navel.

“Oh, take me, Batwing,” she cooed, no sign of remembering all the times she’d said Batman instead. Luke kissed her, making out deeply, slimy tongues rolling over each other. He then grabbed her by her soft asscheeks, not as impressive as her tits, but still a wonderful pair. He smacked them, pushed into the soft flesh with his strong fingers, and then cupped her sexy ass in his hands to lift her up onto his cock.

“You feel so big,” said Selina, biting her tongue as she held onto Luke, her pussy lips rubbing on his shaft.

“You feel so wet,” responded Luke.

“Better to guide you in with, Lukey baby,” she said, pushing her stomach against his abs, guiding his cock up to point right at her cunt. She closed her eyes, braced herself, and sat on it.

“Ah, fuck!” she yelled, loud enough that it made Luke hope no one was on the roof, “It is really big! I haven’t felt like this since I lost my virginity! In fucking middle school! Oh yeah, fuck me hard and deep with your big- big- oh, fuck you’re so big!” Selina turned into a chatterbox by his electrifying black cock.

“Damn you’re tight! I thought you were a whore!” He bounced her up and down his massive dong, her sweaty, sticky legs locked tight around his waist.

“Oh, I am! I’m a whore! A dirty, slutty, whore!”

“Then why are you as tight as a school girl?”

“Ah, fuck! You just wanna hear me say it! I’m a- fuck I feel it all the way in I’m sooooo full!- I’ve never been a whore for black cock before!”

“And now?”

“Holy- holy shit! Ah, I’m getting lightheaded... I’ve never been fucked like this before. I can’t believe I’ve never gone black..”

He pulled her short, black hair and smacked her ass, “And now?”

“Now- I went black! And goddamn if I’m never going back! Ahh, fuck!” the usually clever cat burglar had become totally degraded, slick with sweat and eyes wild with pleasure. She held on tight to his armor, gyrating her round, obsessed, child bearing hips on his cock.

It pushed and throbbed and strained all inside her, stretching her insides, making them even wider than her pussy, which never stretched wider than his steady base. It was his twitching head deep in his canal that made her feel like she never had before.

“I’m a fucking slut for black cock!” she cried, mind exploding as she felt a rush of hot, syrupy liquid in her cunt spill out and run on her legs. It took her a second to realize that this was not his cum she felt, but her own.

The BBC whore tried to see what time it was on something, but there were no clocks near. Her screams and cry were replaced with a long, humid moan, that was only interrupted when her whole body shook with one of his thrusts. They could have been fucking for ten minutes or for half an hour. Either way, the man had stamina like she had never felt.

He pushed her up against the wall of the stairway exit, her back scraping against rough concrete, but if any of her white hide hurt, it was her rose-red asscheeks, which had been thoroughly spanked by the dominant man.

She screamed his name as she came again. Her pussy tightened, and he kept driving. She loved the pain. She was a white woman- a snowbunny, now. A snowkitty. She loved it. She wanted him to hurt her more.

He then held onto her back. His gloves had retracted into his armpeices- when, Selina’s dopamine-addled mind didn’t know- and his black, rough palms felt up her back. He didn’t squeeze tight, which she would have loved, but she realized how much hotter it made her felt.

Stupid white girl! Just let the black man pleasure you, Selina. Let his black... black...

It felt like he was dominating her, making her more whorish than Stan or Slam Bradley or Bruce had ever done, effortlessly. She was so weak compared to this adonis.

She was never going back to white boys.

She felt his round, fat black balls slam up against her ass. They were hanging, the size of tangerines, and as delicious as them. Selina could swear that she felt them churn with his superior african seed, what she wanted- no, no, no, NEEDED- inside of her.

Suddenly, as she came a third time, her lover granted her wish, and came inside of her, shooting strong, round, fluid ropes of thick goop inside her already wet pussy, drenching it. The solid weight within her ravished hole doubled as his manhood came deep inside. It felt like gallons of his potent sperm was emptied right into her womb. Shame she wasn’t anywhere near ovulating.

She went limp, falling down, having to be caught with his strong, quick hand around her back. Her head and limbs hung, supported by his one hand and his massive dong, buried deep inside her tight cunt.

“That was.. The best... I’ve ever had,” she panted, dropping to the ground. She looked at her raw, well-fucked cunt, staring at its strained opening. Then, cum ran out- not gray, thin white cum, but thick, creamy, virile black cum, “You’re so much better than all the other Bat boys... how are you so good...” it kept spilling out, drowning her crotch, soaking the ground.

Luke laughed, “Secret identity- I’m black.”

“Of course.. And Bruce had to get a chinadoll to actually have a kid with.”

“And all the boys are pretty shy in the locker rooms too...”

“I bet.”

“‘Cept for Duke.”

“God, tell me more. I’m already wet...” her hand slid down her sticky creampie. It made a shlicking sound. Selina’s eyes closed as she bit her messy lip.

“Sure,” Luke cracked his knuckles, “ready to go again?”

2 - Along Came a Black Spider

Selina had to wonder if Bruce understood that he was a beta white guy, with a below-average dick and no jet pack. After all, he had given Luke Fox, the guy with the gargantuan dick that made Selina into a black-only snow bunny, the super suit with a jetpack.

He used both on the way to Selina’s apartment, where he had agreed to drop her off after she had taken a second load of his on her face, still feeling like a spa day, his thick cum masking her pale countenance with enough fluid to fill a bucket.

She fell naked on her balcony, her ass cheeks redder than her roses from the pounding, her knees more scraped than her old metal chairs from how deep she had sucked him, and her nipples standing erect as the table’s umbrella, the tits they adorned glazed with ropey cum, more than she could swallow- and she loved swallowing his delicious cum.

He took the flash drive and flew away, leaving Selina, naked, and without her catsuit, to go in her apartment, totally exhausted. She had barely taken a few steps in when she collapsed on the couch, lifting her legs up in the air to expose her burning cunt as she teetered at the edge of consciousness.

“Fuck, I need a shower.....” groaned Selina as she felt a fat dollop of syrupy cum leak from her used hole, putting her fingers up to herself to feel her creampie, letting it drip on her couch, the fluid ruining it as Luke had ruined her cunt. Hell, the whole couch may have been ruined. She was sweating so much- every inch of her skin was on fire with a pleasure years of white lovers had never given her. She closed her eyes and smiled, tongue lapping at the cream on her lips.

She began fingering herself. She loved feeling the insides of her tight little cunny, but now it felt like she was hollow, her stretched hole feeling like an abyss around her hand, wider than three fingers. Even when she pushed her whole hand in, her sex stretched easy as a shirt, looser than she’d ever been before. It felt like it would just collapse in on itself if she removed her hand.

Reluctantly, the wet, dripping, sweaty, cum-soaked mess got up from the couch and meandered into the bathroom, tracking her mess throughout the brightly lit, angular apartment. She passed the balcony in her bedroom there, but, to her sadness, there was no Batwing flying around. The Bat-signal was lit, but she hoped Bruce wouldn’t ever expect anything from her again, because, as good a person he was, he wasn’t a real man. And Selina needed a real man.

She turned on the steamy water as she felt guilt and pleasure keep washing over her. It wasn’t like she’d cheated on Bruce- they weren’t together right now, and it’s not like it wasn’t seen as normal for a beautiful white lady such as her to cuckold a white guy with a big, dark lover, was it? And god, Luke felt so good, deeper inside her than she’d ever thought possible.

She played with her clit in the hot bath, finely manipulating it, thinking if she was stereotyping. After all, she’d fucked only the one black guy, what’s to say he wasn’t an outlier? What if she couldn’t, just in

theory, get herself all tattooed up with queens of spades and ‘black owned’ and be totally satisfied with black guys twice as big as any white ‘man’?

Well, she could always just be with Luke. He, she knew, was good enough. He was a decade and a half younger than her- did that make her a cougar? Fuck if she cared.

She kept playing with herself under the water, pinching and pulling at her swollen clit, thinking of the wild night she’d just had. How Luke had picked her up and their bodies sunk into each other, how he’d put her on her hands and feet as he mounted her, her from behind, how he slapped her ass as he pounded her cunt, how his thick pile of meat slapped her tits and her face before cumming all over them, emptying those full, hanging balls she only got to lick a precious few times.

Even more disappointing than how much she licked his balls was her ass- yeah, the cheeks were as red as could be, but as she moved the finger of her other hand to the pink, tight pucker of her anus, it felt very neglected compared to her gaping pussy. She wanted a big black cock in her ass.

As she drifted into sleep, fingers holding her clit in a fist as she put another two far up her ass, she dreamed of it.

She woke up when her head finally dipped underwater- something the expensive in-bath seat was designed to prevent. She stole hard for that, it might as well work!

Still, she felt comfortable- the water was still somewhat warm, so the heating worked. And judging by the dim light it was dawn. If she had any idea how long it was between encountering Luke and going to sleep, that may have meant something.

She didn’t want to get up. She kept her face barely above the water so she could keep feeling herself. Her asshole had accommodated to her middle and index finger, and so she pushed another into the snugly held hole. Her pussy, on the other hand, had tightened around her fingers, no longer gaping or full of semen.

Of course, she’d love it to be again- stretched open and fucked, then poured into with hot, thick sperm. And even more in her ass- god, how she needed a black man to really fill that hole, how-

She rolled her head over, and saw something in the corner of her bathroom- no, someone. Wearing a black full-bodysuit, with orange and purple highlights, a maroon spider on his face.

“Ah, shit,” grumbled Selina, hooping out of the bath into the cold air as a throwing knife flew past her short black hair. He pounced at her, so she grabbed the bathroom door and left him to run into it.

“Black Spider, isn’t it?” She asked, flipping into the living room, soaking the floor again.

He didn’t respond, simply running after her and firing a line from his gauntlet, missing Selina and catching a chair, which also missed her.

“Oh come on!” she yelled, keeping on her feet, “I’m right, right? You’re Black Spider- Eric Needlewhatever-“ she dodged more of his swipes- “Shouldn’t you be with Waller? And even then, what

the hell are you doing in my bathroom, pervert?!”

“You knew the deal- turn in the drive by 6 am. It’s been an hour almost, so I was sent to check on you. You clearly haven’t bothered, I searched the place, and it’s not here, so I assumed the contract is void, and you know the boss don't accept betrayal.”

“Ah, fuck you!” She gasped as she narrowly dodged another barbed line, whipping around her bedroom, “I can still get it!”

“Plenty of people can- and I’m sure the boss is already hiring. You’re done-“ he swung around the line like a whip yet again, “it’s just you and me now.”

“Can you let me get dressed first then, Eric, before I kick your ass?”

“How cliche,” chuckled the Spider, switching to wrist-mounted blades to keep Selina on her toes, “and shouldn’t you appreciate the fact that you’re naked? Isn’t sex appeal meant as a distraction?”

“What? You buy that bullshit? No, I show my tits off because I’m a slut-“ she slid under him to kick him in the back, knocking him down onto a armoire, knocking down a jewelry chest, “be lucky I didn’t go for the dick, asshole,” She grumbled, letting the chest hit him.

“Oh, you would have liked that, wouldn’t you, slut?” He rolled over, still mocking her.

“That’s-“ she paused, knowing he wasn’t the one who started that, “Okay, fuck you, I am a slut, and I was having a great time before you showed- wait,” she paused, reaching for his mask, but not taking it, “you’re black, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I’m a spider.”

“No, I meant-“

“Bitch, I know what you meant! Yes, I am,” he pushed her hand away to take off his mask, revealing a sharp, goateed black face, “why?”

She lowered her body, exposed and naked, on top of his well armored one, until her pussy was nearly touching his large codpiece, “I mean... I just wanted to ask-“ she put her hands on his shoulders, pinning him down, “how big is your dick?”

“...Bitch, what?”

“I’m serious-“ she whined, “how big? Because I fucked my first black guy last night and need to know if they’re all like that!”

They both looked at each other, Selina in what seemed to be desperation, and Eric in confusion.

“AHAHAHAHA,” suddenly, he laughed, “So you’re just another big black cock slut, is that right?”

“Uh- you’ll fuck me if I say yes, right?”

“Fuck Batman’s bitch? Any day.”

“Then yes, I’m the biggest fucking black cock whore on earth!” She exclaimed, almost shaking on him, “oh! And I’m not his bitch- not anymore,” she smiled gleefully, putting up two pinched fingers to illustrate Batman’s little white dick.

“Hah! You are a bad bitch, aren’t you!”

“I’ll be your bad bitch if you really do have a big black cock!”

“Then lemme show you,” he breathed as he pushed her ass off him. She felt her pussy dampen at the feeling of him control her, picking her up with just one big, strong hand.

He tore off his belt and peeled off his pants, pulling the codpiece down to reveal to Selina what could only be described as an anaconda- as long, if not longer than Luke, with a fatter head and thinner shaft, actually making it look bigger, harder to take, more painful. Definitely like a snake.

“I’m already so fucking wet,” whispered Selina.

“I can tell-” he made her moan by feeling her wetness, holding her from behind with two fingers sloshing over her pussy while his thumb pressed right above her asshole.

“Your hands even feel big,” she lowered her shuttering head to his ear, “I want you to do whatever you want to me, baby.”

“Good,” he slammed her ass, spanking her. His spry, sturdy hand totally covered her alabaster cheek, rubbing it like a baker kneading dough, the strength of his black hands rippling over her velvety flesh. She kissed his dark neck, tasting sweat. It clung to her lips until she licked it off.

He began tearing off his padded suit, Selina pawing at the edges as if to help, but she was really just enamored with his black body, his ebony tufts of hair running down his broad chest and sculpted abs, the hair of a real man. His torso and cock was totally opened, and so, like a moth to a flame, Selina dropped, ass up, and face down, kissing his muscular frame.

Preoccupied with his musculature and musk, Selina’s hand drifted down to Eric’s legs without looking, feeling around, groping at his wide, strong legs. She kissed his stomach like it was an idol until her hand felt something new- a smooth, bulbous head, a deep peach poking out from the long, curved, black shaft. It tensed as her hand felt it, as her worshipping slowed to look over at the massive tube of meat, semi-erect and pointing down at his swollen, hanging balls.

Selina’s hand purled around his sleek cockhead and his round ballsack. He secreted precum, the perfect lubricant for Selina’s lustful hand to hold his cockhead, at least three times bigger than any white boy she’d ever been with. As she tried to wrap her fist around his round tip, his cock tightened, hefting his balls, swelling his veins all the way down his shaft.

She planted sloppy, smacking kisses down his abs to his crotch, where she glossed the base of his cock, which, despite its curve, was still taller than her head at its vertex. She kissed and tongued and groped his cock, feeling the fat, many veins only a black cock had, tugging at the soft, loose skin around his solid shaft.

“You’re so fucking... fucking huge... gargantuan... BBC...” she murmured in between licks, just loud enough for him to hear. Even the thought of those words made her pussy ache.

He smiled a pearly grin as she put her silky, drooling lips parallel to his cock, then lowered them slowly onto it, right in the middle. She held it on either side of her mouth, the shaft and it’s veins filling each hand as she sucked on it’s delicious flavor.

She slurped on it, doing her best to drench it with spit from her small mouth, his black member dwarfing her mouth. She went all the way down it and all the way back up, like she was on a harmonica. She closed her eyes and touched herself as her lips popped off his base. When they opened, they saw that her spit, which felt like enough to fill a lake, made maybe half of his godly cock slick with spit.

Selina whimpered at the monster before her. Luke’s was in the dark, but here, in her apartment, at daybreak, she could see the whole thing, all of its features and pulsations and dark, dark blackness against the pinks, peaches, and whites of her home. Her home was a damn mess thanks to their fight- but now she was ready to be made a damn mess thanks to their fuck, thanks to his huge, strong, black dick.

She pumped his dick to hardness, thickening it and flattening out its big, floppy curve, replacing it with a solid pipe of black cock. It’s head still pointed down, just a bit. It sat snugly in her hand, the lightest skin on his dark chocolate member, round and smooth as an apple and slick with precum.

She lied down perpendicular to him, elbows resting on his sinewy dark skin, and let his dick shake and bounce and finally get to full mast right in front of her blue eyes. She kissed the hole at its tip top, and pushed her tongue into to sticky hole, pulling off with a string of precrum. It broke and fell down to his pelvis. She watched it as is fell, far, far below. She jumped off skyscrapers regularly, but, with his cockhead at her nose, the cock she was staring down looked frighteningly tall.

She put her arms on either side of his base and sat up with good posture, the domineering cock running nearly from her belly button to her forehead. She laughed nervously.

“Bitch, you ain’t being anywhere near as much as a slut as your tight ass tells me you can,” he said, slapping her ass. His dark palm renewed the light pink handprint that covered both her cheek before he took his huge middle finger, and ran it down her asscrack, pushing at her perfect pink butthole.

“Eep!” She jumped, body tending and hair bobbing as she felt his fingertips against her sensitive pucker. She looked down, bending to show him he tits with his powerful, huge cock in her cleavage. She beamed, well kept teeth whiter than her skin, but hopefully not to be any less defiled by his blackness, by his huge black cock.

She closed her eyes and breathed deep, “Don’t stop touching my asshole,” she gasped through th,an enraptured smile.

He said nothing as he kept playing with her backdoor, moving his fingers in circles around its pucker, running its pad over her, dipping his fingerprints into her lusting anus. Eventually, he matched the pace of Selina’s nervous licks to the underside of his tip, the perfect spot to lap at the juices.

Her licks were playful, as was his fingering on her behind. Him touching her dirtiest whole made her wet, and that arousal made her more desperateShe lapped at his glans, the smooth, round bulb, the color of syrup. His pace stayed the same, but her mind was running faster and faster. She began to drool on his head and kiss it sloppily as her cunt was, his precum tasting like syrup. He stayed the same. She took a hand and shoved it between her legs, fingering herself. Not long after, his bulb was in her mouth.

“Mmmf!” she stopped herself when his head, the size of a ripe fruit, was already in her head. Sticky spit flung from her stretched lips, sinking down the long rod of his cock. Ready to gag, she chased it down his dick, careful not to hurt him with her teeth. He may have been thinner than Luke, but she still felt it against her teeth no matter how wide she opened her mouth. Like the water of a warm shower, Selina descended down her would-be assassin’s cock.

She began to gag at halfway, more than she could take. She pushed down, feeling her wetness increase with each throb of his cock deep down her little slutty gullet. She teared up as she struggled to even take half of his incredible black cock, and almost cried when he took his hand off her hungry asshole, and her ass altogether. She felt like she was gonna collapse when he put that hand on top of her head, and forced her even further down his black rod.

When she nearly reached the bottom, red-faced, choking, and sputtering as his fat head pushed and pulsates deep, deep in her windpipe, he took his hand off. He moved it down to her crotch, and, to her dismay, he removed her hand from gm inside her soaking wet pussy.

“W-why?” She pleaded, after rushing up for a gulp of air. That huge cock only a black guy could have flopped on her crestfallen face.

“Ah calm down,” he said with his well-earned confidence- after all, who could know how to please a girl better than a man with a big black cock?

He took her waist and hips and pulled them toward him. The pussycat looked over at him, a but he simply pushed her face back into his rock hard dick. Teasing and kneading the flesh, he pulled her hips right at him, lifted them up, and laid them in his face, wet cunny dripping onto his ruggedly handsome face.

Hugging her waist close to his chest, he slurped and smacked on her drenched puss as she did the same to his cock. Needleham had an easier time eating her out than Selina had blowing him, but both felt similar pleasure.

Selina began to go limp as she felt an orgasm flowing through her. If it was a white boy, his dick would fall out her slack mouth, but this black snake stayed deep in her. Eric soon noticed, and put her down- practically throwing her on the bed.

“You’re good at sucking cock, but you need to learn to last a little longer,” he chuckled. Selina moaned

and groaned, but couldn’t verbally respond. She just sat there as he jerked off his long, black dick to her, building it up until his huge, hanging, wrecking-ball testicles clenched, and he came. He spurted cum down her throat, and her clear wet drool became a thick, sticky, and white.

She pulled off his cock, not that you could tell, with the slimy cum sticking to his cock and her lips, making a messy curtain between them. That was nowhere near all his cum though- most of it was down her throat, a bigger load than she had ever had before. She sucked up the slimy mess, trying to hold his whole load in.

“You’d better not spit,” he muttered.

She gagged and gasped, eyes tearing up with desperation. She bent over and opened her mouth, vomiting potent slime onto her floor.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry-“ she cried, bending over to get near to the puddle of cum, “your load was just so big! I couldn’t hold it all in!” She gasped, and stuck her tongue out to lap up the puddle, working to swallow it all.

He walked around back to her bare ass. “It’s fine- long as you lemme go all the way,” he grinned, putting his hand on her numb butt.

She took a breath in between her eating of her own oral cream pie, “sure! Please do- I- I won’t be able to fuck as good as usual, but I just want that inside me!”

“All you had to say,”

“And no condoms!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, bitch.”

She gleefully closed her eyes as she pushed her tongue down onto the hot cum and stuck her butt up for him to use.

“Pussy or ass?”

“Mmgh- pussy! I’d die if your black cock went into my asshole-“ she kept talking about how white guys would make her ass stretch, and she wasn’t ready for Eric’s black mamba to get all up in her guts, but he tuned her out, just pushing his cockhead against her soaking wet lips, and shoved it inside her canal.

She spat out more cum almost immediately, screaming as his strength overtook her tightness, and he shoved his fat head deeper inside her than any first thrust ever had, slamming into her uterus, causing her to explode in pleasure and pain.

Her white pussy was tight, perfectly sized for the types of cocks she’d been fucking her whole life, and while she needed something more, this sure was a hell of a way to get it. It was stretched in every direction, pushing into places that had never been fucked before, that she never knew she wanted to be fucked.

He pounded her so hard it felt like she may as well have been doing anal, slamming her whole body. He sent every inch of loose skin, of which there wasn’t much, shaking as much as her bouncy tits. And forget about her face, it was now totally slack and no longer trying to lick up his spilled cum. Instead the force of her whole body was being buckled and slammed, and her face was laying in the puddle, ground into the puddle. Her hair was a mess. Her pussy was on fire.

He was rougher and gruffer than Luke was, probably due to age and the comfort of her well-heated apartment. Being a criminal, as she knew, certainly help. Being black compounded that. She could barely think, and soon he fucked her brains right out of her. Her arms gave out, and the front half of her body weight fell on her cum-covered face, legs behind her held up by his large hands on either hip. He kept her in place as he destroyed her pussy. She couldn’t see, but he was grinning like a madman, which made sense for any man who got to be with a woman like her, but she considered herself the far luckier one.

The pounding felt beyond physical. Yeah, he was strong as hell and fucked her deep, slamming through her hole and poking her womb like she was a piece of meat, but she felt more than just that. She felt tingly throughout her body. Not a girlish, schoolgirly sort of sensual tingles, but shocks of pleasure like a hard drug throughout her body from his hard cock. Her pussy juices dripped like lava, her stretched canal coated in magma. Her body felt better than ever.

That was when she realised what was happening- she was orgasming. Not just a powerful, climactic squirt from her pussy, but a continuous, flow of orgasms. She was cumming one time after another, so many, so hard, so fast, that it felt like her body was perpetually climaxing.

His pounding had rubbed the sticky puddle of cum on the floor into her face, sending small globs flying into her hair, against her slack lips, even in her rolled-back eyes. She had gotten so used to her constant orgasm that she was barely even conscious, she just sat there, barely propped up against his pumping black hips.

She was jolted awake when she felt his dick twitch uncontrollably inside her, pushing up against her walls. She leaned her head down, putting her hair on the floor, and looked between her legs. She saw his gargantuan black meat entering her and how her pussy was raining juices from the dozens of orgasms she must have had. She also saw his massive, loosely hanging balls swing less and less and begin to tighten up against the underside of his cock.

Why his cock was twitching was finally clear- he was going to cum! His grunts became louder and his thrusts became faster. She threw her head back and moaned as she prepared for what was coming.

He shot his load in her, just as big and thick as before, if not more so. The sheer force of his cum in her womb made her tremble, and as he pulled out, her clit went off as it felt gallons of black cum pouring out of her, enough to make another puddle on the floor and still fill her up.

She had her biggest orgasm yet. It made her jump, pull away from Eric as she fell on the floor, rolling around in a mess of cum as she moaned- no, screamed. Her hips shook and she tried to cover her pussy with her hand, but it was buckled off, and she squirted everywhere, lifting her ass off the ground.

“I love black cock!” Catwoman screamed as she fell onto the floor like a starfish.

“Sure did,” muttered Eric, getting dressed again, having trouble fitting his black manhood in his pants again, “I’ll tell the boss you’re the least of our problems now that the Bat’s onto us. Good luck, you crazy little whore.” And with that, he walked out to the balcony, and left.

Selina was left scoop up the pools of black cum, playing with the precious substance like, well, a kitten. She coated her hand in it, rubbed it all on her worn-out pussy. She massaged her belly with a glob of it, soothing her stretched insides. She made her milky white tits even whiter, lubing them up with his copious baby batter. Most of all, she filled her hands with it, and poured it down her hungry, slutty little throat.

“I love black dick,” she breathed, not even thinking. It just came naturally. “I love black cum. I’m a blacked little slut.”

She passed out, soon dreaming of getting stuffed by big, black cock.

3 - Stephanie Brown and the Blackedcomputer

Selina was in trouble honestly. It was the first time in years she’d failed a job (granted, she never took up contracts, but still!), and surely Black Spider wouldn’t be the last assassin to be sent after her. While that turned out well, she didn’t wanna gamble her life with the next one.

Especially if the next wasn’t black.

That’s why she was here now, at the residence of Carlton Duquesne, a generally well-liked and well-respected mob boss. The kind who would provide her the protection she needed. In more ways than one, of course, but only Selina would think of an innuendo like that when her life was on the line.

Then again, considering Duquesne’s mob was owned and operated by the black families of Gotham’s underworld, not to mention the luxurious overworld old Carlton himself lived in, maybe plenty of women would accept protection. Those of the underworld would prefer to stay clean with the hung black thugs they fucked, while the wealthier women would use it to make sure they didn’t end up pregnant with a black guy’s baby.

Either way, Selina would probably still use it. She wasn’t that addicted to her newfound love. Not yet, anyways. She still knew what she was doing though. Every mob in Gotham had it’s big, strong black enforcers. But she picked the one she knew had the most. And the one that was run by one.

Selina was neither greedy nor generous, stealing more than she could possibly need, but still gave tons to charity. Mostly for animals, but still, it was charity. Mr. Duquesne, however, was not a charity case, and she didn’t intend to spend a dime on protection money to stay at his big, extravagant, and a tad tacky hotel. She did, however offer another payment that was worth more to her than it was to him. Not that she’d ever tell that.

When she first came to him, she pleaded for protection from the newly made enemies. He initially refused- Catwoman was a big name, and a big target. Her reputation couldn’t buy her protection, but it seemed money would. Selina had a better idea.

“Tell me, Mr. Duquesne,” she’d said. She still remembered exactly how the exchange went, that night in his penthouse office, him in a suit and turtleneck, her in her catsuit, “How much do you pay the girls who I saw running around your office earlier?”

“My ladies ain’t a concern, kitty,” the mob boss replied, “you’re not negotiating with them.”

“Oh, of courrrrse I’m not negotiating with them,” she purred, “I’m Catwoman, they’re just... girls, really. How could they compare?” she rubbed a gloved hand up her torso. Her palm grazed against her D-cup.

Carlton looked her up and down. She invited him by sliding her zipper all the way down, so that the tiniest flecks of her well-trimmed womanly hair poked above the catsuit. “I just wanna place to stay, baby. To lay low.” She made a kissy face.

“There a catch, kitty?” The black boss leaned down to look at her. She got on the floor in response,

“Not at all. I’ll do this every week if it you’d rather that then rent. More than every week....”

“I’ll be the judge of what’s worth it,” he said, deep gravelly voice doing things to her pussy. He lifted himself up, undoing his belt and pulling down his pants, then his underwear, down his ashy black legs, revealing his cock.

He was enormous. The thickest cock she’s ever seen, almost as long as her arm and bulbous. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was in love.

“So it’s gonna be like that, huh?”

She nodded. “I’ll be your slut once a week. More, if this thing feels as good as it looks.”

“Good.” He wasn’t surprised by women wanting his dick at all.

“Any limits, sir?” She asked, uncharacteristically submissive. She pulled down the top of her suit, letting her braless tits shine with all their glory.

“Just don’t call me daddy. Shit’s weird.”

She was a little disappointed. She loved the fantasy of a black daddy ramming her ass as she cried his title. Still, it wasn’t worth giving up an inch of this monster cock. Selina nodded yes right into his eyes as she kissed the sliding foreskin of his cock. She got it hard just with sluttly little licks and pokes of her tongue. Just like a Cat. And that was what he wanted, right? Catwoman, the dangerous, uncontrollable expert thief and outlaw, totally submitting to his massive, alpha, dominant, mob boss black cock.

“I... don’t know if I can suck it all,” she worried, looking up at him as he unbuttoned his shirt with massive, strong arms, showing a slightly bulging belly and powerful chest.

“I’ve had white girls take it before. Penguin’s bitches, Lark and Jay? They’ve sucked it down to the base. Do you really think you’re worse than some sluts who suck Cobblepot’s ugly cock?”

That got to her head. Selina always had a bit of a complex, and this played right to it. She hadn’t stood down from sucking a dick since middle school, and she didn’t want to start now. Although, if there was one sort of dick she couldn’t overcome, it was the massive kind black men possessed.

“Yes sir. Your dirty whore, at your service,” she smiled at him.

She licked from his huge, loose balls, her tongue drawing them up until his sack was stiff and wrinkled. Her tastebuds didn’t experience any worse taste though. She put her hands on his comparatively huge ones (and she had big hands for a woman). She felt him relax, loosen up for her. Even if she wanted to hurt him, he’d overpower her. Maybe she’d try to, just to feel him rough her up.

She kept peeling off her spandex down to the last inch, tossing it to the side. He was dressed in classy,

expensive armani wool, unbuttoned to show his impressive physique. Selina, meanwhile, was totally naked, silky ass and tits all out for anyone to walk in to see. If they did she’d keep going. She loved being a black cock slut.

Positioned in front of his bulbous cock, she looked up at him. He didn’t look down. It was like she didn’t even matter. It was a little upsetting, after all, Catwoman deserved more respect. But god it was hot. This monster black cock was probably so popular that the Catwoman worshipping it wasn’t any big deal to Carlton.

Kiss after kiss, she made out with the tip of his dick, not letting an ounce of precum escape from her greedy lips. She was ready to steal all his cum, like the good little slutty thief she was. She went down on him, struggling to swallow all of the huge black rod. She choked, but knew this was where she belonged.

Sucking his cock.

Outside, another sight was happening. Red Robin, Tim Drake, was assigned to watch Catwoman. Her alleged dealings with Tobias Whale’s mob was cause for concern, and as such, he was tasked with the field monitoring, while Stephanie Brown was on the other end of the line.

“She- she’s getting on her knees,” he said, watching the beginning of the scene, peering over the stone lip of the building across the way from Selina and Duquesne.

“What?” came Stephanie, the muffled sounds of movement, “So she’s not just making a deal with Duquesne?”

“I- um, I think she is,” her boyfriend replied.

“Aww, I can hear you blushing. What’s wrong? You watch porn all the time, don’t you?”

“And do stuff with you, but it’s weird to watch.”

“Don’t kid yourself, babe. You know I don’t wanna do stuff with the little thing you’re packing. And you watch me all the time while you’re sitting in a corner or behind a screen, jerking off. Are they still talking?” She slurped down chinese takeout. Not the healthiest, but it was her cheat day. Besides, she knew black guys liked girls a little plumper than she was.

“She’s- um- pulling his pants down. And her top off. Jesus..”

“What? Is he huge, or are her tits that great. It’s both, isn’t it?”

“It... it’s both.”

“D’aww,” she mocked, “Is your little thing hard?”

“Do you have to make fun of it all the time?”

“Oh come on, look, I’m sorry, but it’s just too hilarious! I’m not even horny right now-” she heard Tim grumble something on the other end of the line. “What was that? Is it about me being horny? Because if I was you’d be hearing me watching those VIP Blacked.com videos you paid for me. Now look, I’ll be nicer about it, but we have to get this work done! Either keep talking or turn on the camera!”

“Right,” Tim mumbled, pulling out the portable tripod-mounted camera and hooked it up to the Batcomputer, streaming the scene right into Stephanie’s monitor. The blonde focused it, getting the best shot possible. Tim went off to ‘monitor the perimeter’, but she barely even heard him. The pretty white girl was, as any pretty white girl, mesmerized by the fat cock of a powerful black man.

Shouldn’t have thought about my blacked membership, thought Stephanie, only somewhat reluctantly sliding her hand down to the crotch of her purple tracksuit. Wet, she thought. She could feel it even before her fingertips touched the dampness right above her pussy. Of course I’m wet- god I’m such a slut. Not that she wanted to change that, of course. She put her feet up on the Batcomputer and spread her legs. She focused intently on the image on her screen.

Selina Kyle- Catwoman, a villainess she’d had to put in cuffs at least once before, was looking like a fucking supermodel but with bigger tits, bobbing her face on Boss Duquesne’s massive cock. Her skin was almost as pale as Batwoman’s, and the roundness of her muscular arm and silky tits shone in the moonlight. The drops of spit flying onto them only made them shine more.

As Catwoman drooled sloppy spittle all over this old man’s huge dick, Steph just had to zoom in the camera. Thank god for the 4k quality, she thought, dipping her shakily desperate hand under her waistband. She sunk two fingers into her pussy as she watched how Catwoman’s spit flew everywhere everytime her lips reached the base of his cock. His beefy fingers ran through her short black hair. Both women wished it was longer. Carlton was perfectly happy the way it is. All three of them could see that big hands did indeed mean big dick.

Selina was beginning to feel something was off. She had a sort of cat sense, and right now, it told her that she was being watched. That was usually a bad thing, but right now, with her throat all stuffed with dick and lips dripping with molasses-like spit, she hoped she was being watched.

She was proud of this. She hoped whoever was watching her get blacked the third day in a row was feeling as good as she was. Besides, if she did anything about it, that’d just mean she’d have to wait longer to cum on a big black cock. Or feel it shoot all over her tits. Or cum in her ass. Or just keep having this black monster force her tongue down and her uvula up. Any of those would make it worth it.

So Catwoman and Spoiler, neither in their costumes or even knowing the other was aware of their presence, reached a mutual understanding. Selina would enjoy all the pleasures of sucking, fucking, cumming, and squirting on Carlton Duquesne’s deep black manhood. And Stephanie would get to spend her work time fingering her cunt to a live, real interracial scene. No actors. Every drop of hot cum and warm spit was as real as the juice on Steph’s own fingers.

Speaking of cum, Carlton’s balls tightened further and his rod came to full attention, making Selina gag and choke. She felt like he was going to rip her throat open and her lily white jawbone apart as his whole penis swelled, charging up for a massive blast of cum.

He shot his load down her throat. It was a massive load, fitting for a foot-long monster on one of the most powerful bosses in the city. It felt like a gallon of thick, gloopy cum forcing itself down her throat. Her eyes bugged out with tears. She had always loved that, when guys choked her, but she never knew she could really choke on a fat fucking cock until she downed this one. It felt like some shots blasted his creamy seed right into her stomach. She quickly gulped down whatever didn’t, until her stomach was churning with a massive meal. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, as she was on the run. She was hornier than she was hungry, though. She never expected both to be satisfied at once.

Her eyes widened again as she realized what was happening. She was cumming!

She came right as he did. And without it even going near her favorite holes.

That never happened. Well, it might have with the two black guys before, but she couldn’t remember those well, after they had fucked her silly. Still, it was an overwhelming orgasm, hot pussy juice squirting all over the floor, making Selina try and yell with his huge cock still jammed insider her mouth, “MM!! MMM!!!! FCKKKK!! FFFFKKKK!!!”

This was all a very different experience. It wasn’t random, like the other two fucks she had with Batwing and Black Spider. Those were random. She didn’t expect those. This was planned, she came in here with a plan to get a big black cock fucking her, when she was safe and sober. She didn’t even talk to the guy. She’d bantered with every guy she fucked since she first became a hooker almost twenty years ago. Well, except Batman, but she tried to have him let up his ‘strong silent type’ thing.

The point was, this was when things changed. Selina knew what she would never stop being a horny little slut for black cock. This was the next chapter of her life- the street rat Selina, the prostitute Selina, the famous criminal Selina, and now, the Blacked Selina. The wet, hot, dripping whore couldn’t be happier.

She collapsed from her kneeling position Her bare thighs slid on the tile floor that she covered with her wet cum and she landed on her ass. His scarily big black cock emerged from her mouth still hard and ready for more. The dark brown skin of his body was pitch black on his spit-soaked dick, strands of the mess sticking to Selina’s limp, addicted lips. They curled into a smile.

“What the fuck?!” Yelled Stephanie, kicking her legs down onto the floor. Her bottoms were only a tiny bit down, so the soft skin of her thighs muffined over the band and her blonde pubes, soaked with pussy juice, were barely visible, “You fucking suck his dick once and when he shoots his load in you, you squirt like a fucking fifteen your old all over the floor and pass out like some coke addict whore? All from a fucking BJ?! What lame shit is this? I can’t cum to this!”

She paused her complaining to hear Tim mumble on the other end of the line, “I can hear you.”

She sighed. “Do you want me to just mute you, or keep going? I’m trying to enjoy myself here, and I promise I’ll make it up to you when you come home. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t mute, I might need your help if I find something.”

“Yeah, I know babe. Now lemme keep watching- and save the footage, you should watch it later.” He

didn’t respond. That was why she loved him so much.

She stripped off her bottoms, the top of it all soaked anyways from sweat and her syrupy cunt juices. The purple leggings tossed to the side, she was free to spread her legs as far as she liked while leaning back in the chair that was far bigger than her.

Carlton had been speaking to Selina. Before Steph started watching, he’d asked, “Did you really just cum that hard?”

“F..fuck yeah d- uh, Carlton. I swear I don’t normally cum when just giving head.”

“I hoped not. I thought Catwoman would be a better bed than some virgin schoolgirl.”

“Have you- fucked virgin schoolgirls before?” Asked Selina. By pure coincidence, she thought of Stephanie Brown, miss 15 and pregnant.

“Can’t confirm or deny,” Carl smiled, showing off one gold tooth.

Selina got up, rubbing her smooth, shaky legs, covered in cum and gross juices that she absolutely loved, all over his expensive suit. He didn’t care. He’d just have his maids wash them. If they asked what happened, he’d fuck them too. Hell, he’d fuck them either way. Carlton Duquesne did whatever he wanted.

She ran her hand up his sweaty, hair, bulky body. The idea of him fucking some slutty highschooler, because of some mob debt or some deal or just because she knew a good fuck when she saw one, was impossibly hot to her. By the time her long, curvy body stood all the way up, a drop of horny, hot pussy juice fell to the floor from her dripping cunt.

“You want more?”

“Fuck yeah. Make me your whore.”

“I’ll make sure to get you a luxury suite if you make me cum real good.”

“Mmmm,” she rubbed her plump white ass over the base of his cock, slinging the huge rod all around her sexy butt. Its length dwarfed her behind, its fat head easily sitting on the small of her back. “Fuck my pussy and my ass. I’ll make you cum twice- in each.”

Carlton slapped her ass and grinned ear to ear.

By the time it was over, his cum was all over his desk, her juice was all over his suit, and Stephanie’s squirting was all over the batcomputer. Between the three of them, Carlton’s big black cock had caused at least a dozen orgasms. And Tim hadn’t even watched the video yet.

#bbc #story #interracial

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princeleyjeans · 5 years ago

Text

Amanda is a neutrally crucial character: a post

Just because fans enjoy trikey, doesn’t have to mean they dislike Amanda on the grounds she “Ruins the relationship”, or even dislike her at all. Some of us like her character, she creates a very real idea of how some people do end up on the wrong end of the tracks and in a shitty, co-dependent and plain ass toxic marriage, you don’t have to have your partner come out/be assumed gay to look at your life and think “Holy shit, we’re both huge assholes” In rockstars case, they made her your typical assumed Run-Away/Not really delinquent but getting there (Maybe petty shoplifting) at 17, stripper/hooker at 18/19, who finds a man during her time at said skeezy workplace and gets pregnant too fast to even register if she actually wants the dude or not. Imagine you’re still basically a teenager and some charming, dangerous but cute looking, balls too big for his jeans guy shows up, you’re already feeling somewhat uncertain about how things are going with your life and here he comes with candy, flowers, swatting away other, probably larger guys, risking his own neck to get at you, win your heart, earn your affection, you’d feel pretty damn hawt, pretty on your game, genuinely good because this dude whose appeared outta nowhere, is trying to get you on his arm and is doing it, semi decently, he’s a little different, he’s got dreams, money, goals, plans, everything seems alright, and rightly or wrongly, you fall for that idea. With Amanda and M, personally, I think it was one of those “He’s good looking, strong, seems certain about his plans for the future, I want a piece” deals, of course, this lasts about...a month? two at most, then the condom breaks, they’re on the verge of breaking up because of constant fighting caused by whatever, Amanda wants an abortion because hello, 19, no real address, shitty bf and scary mother fucker hanging around all the time, no kid needs that! But M is about family, holding together the sand from a long broken hourglass, he begs her not to get rid of their baby, makes all these promises, big house, money out the whaazoo, picket fence, dog, all that shit, and out of maybe pitty, strung out hope, desperation, lack of access to healthcare, she accepts and so off they go to get a quickie wedding performed because omg baby out of wedlock, the damn shame (Sarcasm) and enters little Tracey 9 months later, and then things get worse because her food and diapers are eating up money they’d use for other shit, Trevor’s getting more erratic, Amanda is forced back into stripping, going further than before with actual prostitution, everything just goes to absolute hell and she’s stuck, literally stuck because God knows she can’t just run and leave her baby with bank robbers! Her family have no idea where Amanda is, nor of Tracey’s birth or even existence, what choice does Amanda really have? Trek across the border region of America and hope for a miracle, or keep where the money’s at and pray they get enough to make it out alive? All those years stuck under M’s thumb, under the weight of never really being fully able to grow up, experience her 20s as a single, free young woman, realise that being on the wrong side of the law isn’t actually all that a rush as she thought, it fucks up a person, especially if you weren’t a great/fully formed one to begin with! Maybe this is me, but I see M and Amanda as brother and sister, people who’ve grown up together and experienced hardship to the point where instead of work as a team to get through it, they’ve just turned and blamed each other because why the fuck should the other one have to take the wrap for so and so’s fuck up? Shouldn’t the other one know not to do stupid shit like that? It’s quite high-school, Semi/not really bad girl meets a real bad guy and he makes her believe they’re made for each other, things get too hot too fast and suddenly there’s another person involved, he’s shitting his pants because he’s gotta pull himself together and be a decent person but the guy doesn’t wanna so he makes excuses to be an even larger asshole and blames the girl cus how dare she seduce him (Sarcasm, you Tumblr freaks). Neither Party is exempt from blame here, but, that doesn’t mean one is more to blame for what the fuck their lives have become. Amanda is not the enemy. Nor is Michael. But with Amanda, there is a lot of “You can’t hate her because she’s an abuse victim! She’s had to deal with M for all these years!” And “You can’t erase her because of trikey!” Or my favourite “FUCKING MISOGYNIST TRIKEY SHIPPERS WHITE TRASH” Awww yes, tumblr, giving everyone (Even the ones who shouldn’t) a voice. But that shit creates tension, and so people are afraid to have a different opinion, I used to, and that was shit because I do, and did like her as a character, yes she’s an ass at times, but so is her husband and that assery balances them both out and lets you know it’s not a one-sided shit-heap, she’s terrible too, but being in the light of bitter wife constantly cheating and having bouts of sad rationality has meant we’ve learnt more of her story than most games have with their own female characters. Again, probably just me, but at her worst, Amanda is giving pieces of her past/feelings through how she reacts/speaks to Michael, I’m not saying its justified, I just mean you know what she’s going through, you feel something, you know there’s more to this affair, to the ass photos online, the pool boys and tennis coaches, blunt af disregard of her own actions when she herself fucks up. That text she sends Michael after the tennis coach fiasco gets me every single time for obvious reasons, like , bitch, you really not gonna talk about this? You not gonna see your own irony here? others see it as just a bitter, horrible ass woman, but that's the mirror, the slap in the mouth Rockstar give their protags when they need a reality check. She’s crucial because she herself is a mirror, a shitty slice of bread to make the shitty ass sandwich that is her, M and their life together, their family, fucking existence as a whole! Plus it’s giving a “Not everything is one-sided” view of M’s plot-line, it’s what makes his character, as well as hers, so hard to truly hate, because you ask questions, wonder about the truth! the closed doors at the end of the day. Like, imagine if someone said “My husband is such a dick, I wanna leave, I wanna just go and get away”, unless you were close friends, you’d wonder about his side, his feelings, his views, and in some cases, you’d realise it was a mutually fucked up relationship where they can both easily walk away but are so needy and clingy, co-fucking-dependent that they can’t leave and so just bitch about each other because they’re too fucking brats! THAT IS WHY SHES SO CRUCIAL! BECAUSE YOU GET BOTH SIDES OF THE MIRROR AND NEITHER ARE RIGHT BUT IF THEY DIDN’T HAVE TO BE TOGETHER THEY’D PROBABLY GET ALONG LIKE ALOT OF THESE IDIOTS DO! Okay, I’mma say this is done, maybe follow up in another post later, and go listen to Post Malone while also pre-writing my come-back comments to probably really fucked and unrelated to the topic messages I am about to receive for even making this post.

#michael de santa #amanda de santa

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fortheheavenssake · 5 years ago

Text

Allegedly Anon 2

Oct. 3

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Tell me , why was himself attracted to such a spindly legged bint like nutmeg. It’s like watching a Popeye cartoon with Olive Oil telling him what to do. ( comparison photos please anyone) and now has involved himself in litigation on her behalf, as if this wilting violet is such a crushed petal …… really ‘REALLY!! ‘ she’s got a skin thicker than a Rhinoceros. It’s bad timing because of the exposure of the forthcoming vid. “ OMG it’s her”. Allegedly. Speculation of course.

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Oct 4

ALLEGEDLY ANON, The question is’ how far will the MOS go up the litigation hill before they settle OOC, or will they enjoy the Kabuki pantomime it will descend into? I don’t think the BRF wants a public circus in the high court of litigation ,then again I can imagine LG rubbing his hands together at the image of nutmeg swanning into court wearing a denim onesie, and reading a word salad statement prepared by SS describing her alleged trauma 😱😱😱🤣🤣🤣🤣Allegedly,speculation of course.

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Oct. 5

ALLEGEDLY ANON … is it all about archificial?????? O my ‘ a paternity suit. This is going to get quite interesting ‘ so will DNA be produced? Is archificial “ of the body ? I think their both pissed off with the truth. The SA nutmeg show was a disaster …… and for gods sake, what is Harry doing …… it’s now super Kabuki!!!! Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Oct. 6

ALLEGEDLY ANON, The creature from the BLUE lagoon and a few hundred itinerant yachts has set up Her father in a fait accompli regarding the leaked letter ‘ its perfectly ok for a gaggle of chums to blab about said letter , but when her own father claims misrepresentation he’s castigated on the world stage ……… vile women!!! I think LG will string her up by her pneumatic mammaries. Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Oct. 7

ALLEGEDLY ANON, once upon a time , on a yacht in an ocean far far away’ as MM ANON said its opinions ‘ if you install face recognition and then fast forward after reconstruction surgery then you can make an inspirational assumption its nutmeg, after all we have a lot of missing years and information. It’s funny how the media are V. quiet?? but then they have their own dossier on the dubious provenance of the DOS. ALLEGEDLY, SPECULATION OF COURSE.

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Oct. 8

ALLEGEDLY ANON, What’s with the coy 15 year old routine with nutmeg, this from a woman whose sucked more d*** than I’ve had popsicles , she’s got a past that would challenge Caligula, unless you’ve lived in a cave for the last 2 years everyone in the country knows what a POS this grifter is. Let’s hope the BRF gives her the big E. Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Oct. 9

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Canada ‘ move to CANADA!!! What’s she going to do, go back to suits as a Parailegal? I don’t think she will go anywhere near the commonwealth. She hates the RF. She’s disliked and despised. She’s at home more in Calipornia , return to the industry she knows best. This trash has alienated herself from everything she married into. Go home stay home. She’s a classless tramp. Allegedly speculation of course.

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Oct. 10

ALLEGEDLY ANON … kartrashian said “ nutmeg is changing the world ‘ Ummmm ‘ ok , how is that then , O’ I know, by lying about your father bankrolling you upbringing, abortions , having a child, yachting, escorting, tossing salads, golf girl , hockey girl , every ones girl, black and white movies, blue movies,THAT WEDDING ‘ THAT FAKENCY, THAT BIRTH, ARCHIFICIAL, SA. BABY, ……sue the MOS. good luck!!! Allegedly, speculation of course. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Oct. 11

ALLEGEDLY ANON,SS PR writes her word salad, a vacuous, empty, meaningless diatribe that’s supposed to encourage the audience that are in the unfortunate position of having to listen. PR key words written to trigger an emotional response. ENVIRONMENTAL, FEMINIST, DRIVEN, INSPIRATIONAL, SOLUTIONS , POSITION ,SPIRITUALLY POSITIVE, CONCLUSIONS, I could go on all day with her babbling bull$h!t. We see through you nutmeg!!!! Allegedly,speculation of course.

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Oct. 12

ALLEGEDLY ANON, hey skippy ‘ is nutmeg on public appearance anytime soon ‘ I’m looking forward to her facing the British MOS readers …… and the fortuitous anticipation of being booed. Unless the pubic are unlikely gracious she’s going to get a hammering. One can only hope , she’s an obnoxious toss-pot who thinks her $h!t don’t stink. Treated the BRF with utter contempt. A return to porn awaits,allegedly, speculation of course. 💩💩💩💩💩

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Pakistan Tour 14-18

October. 14

ALLEGEDLY ANON, HC’ 30.000 destroyed emails, never indicted …… Benghazi, and she’s got the gall to stick that yachting hooker on a pedestal!! Then slag off the BRF. YEAH RIGHT!!!! Thank goodness we have a REAL ROYAL COUPLE on an official visit with dignity and protocol at the fore- front. I’m a little pissed with colonial trash telling the British how to conduct their lives. F#@ck -em. Allegedly,speculation of course. 😤😤😤

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Oct. 15

ALLEGEDLY ANON , Hoping that nutmeg gets verbal distain from the British public today. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 can’t wait for anons to post.

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October. 15

ALLEGEDLY ANON, The escort in green , himself looks so pleased to be in the company of a (what) ‘I don’t know? What’s wrong with you Harry???????????? … this is becoming beyond Kabuki. Harry plays the game for the sake of HMTQ ……… ok ‘ all roads lead to the So- Hoe. Thank god for W&K ……… a borrowed archificial on SA …… see the photos, allegedly,speculation of course.

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Oct. 15

ALLEGEDLY ANON … 2/10 /19. BLIND ITEM #8

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Oct. 15

ALLEGEDLY ANON …… BLIND ITEM #8……OMG ‘ rhymes with Toss…… JOINTHEDOTS

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Oct. 15

ALLEGEDLY ANON …… BLIND ITEM #8 Oct 2nd. Read this and connect the dots. It’s not Ross ………rhymes with “late”(first name).

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Oct. 16

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Creech St Michael , has seen tinted Discovery’s heading towards the M5. In convoys. ( didn’t someone say she was hiding In Somerset. ) I’m sure there’s a nice soho sponsored hideaway deep in the rural sticks that she’s holed up in. Trouble is , there’s curiosity amongst the well heeled local pop. Allegedly, speculation of course. 👀👀 👀 👀 🕶 🕶 🕶

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Oct. 18

ALLEGEDLY ANON, “WHY DO THEY ALL HATE ME, IM AN HONEST DECEIVING BITCH, I HAVE AN ENGAGINGLY WARM SMILE 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. “ IM HAVING A HARD TIME HERE PEOPLE, I DEMAND A LITTLE SYMPATHY!!!! “Well sympathy comes in the dictionary darling, it’s betwee $h!t and Syphilis. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 O’ please post this skippy, 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

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October. 19

ALLEGEDLY ANON, a focus group of 52 million British subjects would find that 78% dislike or have negative opinions about the colonial carpetbagger, 20% undecided and 2% don’t give a $h!t. Survey undertaken by the Sisters of Perpetual Retribution found that middle England and the upper classes have obnoxious contempt for the grifting bint while the working class seek the return of a happy go lucky Harry without the whining wife. All concluded that the BRF should get rid!! Speculation Allegedly.

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October. 20

ALLEGEDLY ANON, “ She’s just existing “ !!!!!! WT(F) existence on a life funded by taxpayers supporting your multi million pound lifestyle ( one million on posh frocks) 4 million on frogcott, private helicopter , private jets , itinerant jollies to see Elton, breaks in £10.000 a night S of France villas weddings in Rome , a gruelling existence in a luxury lodge at soho estate in Somerset, RPO continually, nannies, cooks , shags on tap, ……… Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Oct 21

ALLEGEDLY ANON, HMTQ and TBRF have collectively now ostracised the house of Sussex from their social calendar regarding functions and family events , the only contact will probably be official gatherings like Christmas and public appearance such as the Remembrance Day service which I doubt nutmeg will attend due to her being snubbed to another balcony last year. Harry has now gone public on his feud with William. Their socially screwd. Allegedly,speculation of course.

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Oct 21

IN PRAISE OF SKIPPYS BLOG , this amazing forum is the most tolerant I’ve had the privilege to post on. Thank you dear skippy for posting comments that perhaps sometimes go against ones beliefs. My utmost respect and acceptance. ‘ Your servant and respectful comrade ,ALLEGEDLY ANON.

I can’t say thank you enough…..or tell you how appreciated you all are! Thank YOU!😊❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oct 22

ALLEGEDLY ANON:- There comes the time when one runs out of superlatives, descriptives, whatever ‘ then you want to tell everyone what you think and a silent hand goes up and you say “ no!! I can’t call her that. Well ‘ fuck it!!!! I’m going to. She is , and has always been a “Manipulative Whore.” Whore ‘ in its most blatant sense. In future Just use the acronym MW. I’ll know what you mean. Allegedly, speculation of course. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Oct 23

ALLEGEDLY ANON, …… purple PURPLE!!! really REALLY!!! The colour of royalty, not a one bit tramp with allusions of grandeur and a sideline in self pity. One little tit-bit that crossed my mind, the use of pharmaceutical enhanced performance. This conduct induces paranoias, believe me I’v been in recovery for 35 years , it’s a hard habit to hide from , and I bet it’s prevalent, uppers, downers , twisters , benders. Mmmmmm’ interesting!! Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Oct 23

ALLEGEDLY ANON … So !! She single handedly saved the monarchy ……… a yachting comforter who is a quid pro Quo whore saved a 1200 year institution from stagnation and decay. Some colonial carpetbagger with loose elastic grifted her a$$ into the BRF and manipulated a Prince who’s a founder member of the easily led club. EPIC !!!! and insults HMTQ last night by disgracing the colour purple.

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Oct 24

ALLEGEDLY ANON, After a year of PR disasters and faux pas nutmeg still doesn’t understand the secret of royal protocol success , simply put ,you “ quietly attract” rather than obnoxiously promote yourselves. W&K quietly grew into the hearts of The British psyche over a period of hard working years,three gorgeous children and a working royal marriage. Unlike the train wreck of this colonial whore dragged into England’s green and pleasant land. Allegedly, speculation of course. ( O’ Harry). 😔😔😢😢

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Oct 26

ALLEGEDLY ANON, So the bitch in Burgundy deciding to vacate her street corner and attend a kitchen meeting with a few collapsible tables and a portable screen. EPIC !!! got out of the electric Audi after a screaming row with himself and went all”power girl” in leather skirt no draws and plunging tits. WOW……… single handedly changing the monarchy 🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Oct 26

ALLEGEDLY ANON, So…… ‘ what next a black top with plunging tits ,a black leather jacket and leather slacks and Harry rides her in on the back of a Bonniville 120 to attend a “ save the children “ lunch at the Savoy Hotel , I can imagine her being intimately acquainted with the Oakley chapter……… word salad and tossed salad in equal quantities. ……… YEP!!! modernising the monarchy, that’s our nutmeg. 🏍🏍🏍🏍🤣🤣🤣

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Oct. 26

ALLEGEDLY ANON, …SS IS GOING TO TRY AND EMBARRASS HMTQ ON REMEMBRANCE DAY BY NEGOTIATING THE APPEARANCE OF THE HARKLES. EVEN IF NOT INVITED,THEY WILL JUST TURN UP. SHES DESPERATE TO SINGLE HANDEDLY MODERNISE THE MONARCHY 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Oct 27

ALLEGEDLY ANON, on reflection ‘ Skippy is right, I assume the old damaged wig will be in Calipornia during RD. Our Prince will be attending in his official capacity. Maybe K and C will be on the balcony with ST. GBHMTQAOGC

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Oct 27

ALLEGEDLY ANON ‘ it’s still an anathema to English subjects like myself who grew up remembering the The crowning of HMTQ IN 1952. at WA. That now you have an appendage yachting escort who a few years ago slept with anyone who would give her a leg over her social mobility. Hockey players , chicken chefs , golf pros any suckem and fuckums that crossed her akimbos. It’s a sad time for Britain. Ashley Cole ‘ you dodged a bullet. Allegedly,speculation of course.

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Oct 28

ALLEGEDLY ANON … Dear skippy, the audacity of this obnoxious creature,thinking she will be given the opportunity to speak,spout more of her vacuous word salad and send the audience into a premature coma. The royal family is in quite distain of her infantile manipulations effecting her blinkered husband. The colonial carpetbagger will soon return from whence she came to the rapturous delight of all Britain. Allegedly. Speculation of course.

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Oct 29

ALLEGEDLY ANON, the obnoxious colonial carpetbagger tells porkies!! Outrageous ,narcissistic ,self promotional, hang me out the window and beat me with the National Enquirer porkies !! Its endemic in her DNA , it’s like listening to cnn , she’s a psychopathic extolling conveyer of mendacious verbiage. I sincerely hope that this appendage that is constantly clawing at our once loved Prince retires to her origins … SOON. allegedly, speculation of course.

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Oct 30

ALLEGEDLY ANON ……… That letter had one , and only one project in mind ‘ via that carpetbaggers agenda!!! THE DESTRUCTION OF THE MONARCHY. That trashollop doesn’t want to modernise the monarchy ‘SHE WANTS TO DESTROY IT !!!!!!!!! Why do you think mostly LABOUR FEMALE MPs SIGNED IT. Duuuuuuuuur!!! Allegedly speculation of course

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Oct 31

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Since when did a colonial interloper and wife of a royal have the constitutional gall to write a letter of thanks to a sitting MP? Politics off limits!! The rumour mill is grinding away with innuendo and gossip stirring the “ royal sources” into a frenzy. I think there’s going to be quite a Sunday surprise imminent. The protocol illiteracy of nutmegs PR is embarrassing and sad ,where’s Henry 8th !! Allegedly speculation of course.

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Nov. 1

ALLEGEDLY ANON, are we supposed to be enthralled by this trash bag visiting a soho sponsored bakery with suspect hygiene. No hygiene gloves, no hand/ hair hygiene, the touching of the matted greasy wig the touching the cake, this video should be shown to the Westminster health inspectorate. No hair covering. There WORKING WITH FOOD PEOPLE ARE GOING TO EAT!!!! another PR pratfall.

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Nov. 1

ALLEGEDLY ANON,… some hacks have their tongue so far up nutmegs @rse that rational communication just becomes a sycophantic Dickensian “ ever so ‘umble, mam”. exercise in dickie licking. Such is the passion of their wanting to be associated with the great unwashed one. ( Fame by association )… example ‘ The Telegraph puff piece. I hope Harry is going to adhere to HM. script this weekend.

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Nov. 2

ALLEGEDLY ANON, ‘MORNING NUTMEG, “ I never wanted the media spotlight “🤣🤣🤣🤣, how’s all your contradictions going about media exposure? Media executives say you BEGGED them for exposure ( begging.?………thats another word for it.) how’s our oracle on instant gratification this morning, all those trips on yachts must have had lots of moments of “ instant gratification” and let’s not forget SH and MA. …a tad wounded nutmeg? Allegedly, speculation of course 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤥🤥🤥🤥

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Nov. 2

ALLEGEDLY ANON,……… THE MOST DISRESPECTFUL INSULTING APPEARANCE SO FAR , MILLIONS GAVE THEIR LIVES FROM AMERICA,GREAT BRITAIN AND CANADA IN BOTH WORLD WARS. …… ‘ this disrespectful tramp turned up to be recorded on film without the world wide symbol of respect for the fallen ‘ the Poppy. HMTQ must have duly noted. social ineptitude on purpose. The final insulting straw.

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Nov 3

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Ostracised, financially bereft, ignored and despised. An outed grifter gone rogue. This notary of Babylonian reputation and suspect sexual indulgences will allegedly grace one of the hallowed balconies of Whitehall on Remembrance Sunday. She will contaminate the great and the good patrons of the monarchy of the British public. Please feel free to booooooooo !!

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Nov 4

ALLEGEDLY ANON, WAS NUTMEG SCARED TO APPEAR?? This question is at the top of everyone’s agenda after reports that the colonial carpetbagger has fled her unoccupied cottage in Windsor and jumped on a private jet to LAX. The no.1 priority of slutchess disaster is to avoid being verbally castigated by the public at the RAH Saturday night tribute remembrance service. Also it saves her isolating appearance on The hallowed balcony the next day. A joyous departure for Brits. 👋👋👋👋👋👋👋👋

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Nov 5

ALLEGEDLY ANON, RE-REMEMBRANCE FIELDS. Expect nutmeg to push ahead of H. Expect it to wear a rainbow poppy, expect her to look for the cameras, expect her stupid rictus grin, as Skippy comments,expect the unexpected. The public once again are dismayed that Camilla will accompany the colonial carpetbagger on this memorable occasion honouring the fallen. I thought it was illegal to drop trash in the hallowed fields. Expect a complete lack of protocol. Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Nov 6

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Dear Skippy The British public are a reserved but unforgiving lot when one tries deception which nutmeg has indulged in. Sooo , if the slutchess and himself appeared together without a minder they would be open to verbal ridicule …… enter stage left Camilla ‘ decorum and protocol would stifle any and all booing from the public,even though they would probably love a good Booo. We wait. Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Nov 6

ALLEGEDLY ANON, NUTMEG to have 2nd child in USA’ FFS, well there’s already a child around according to the Golf organiser where you were a caddy escort, O’ when did you have a child in the U.K.?you mean archificial?? The surrogate dump? Surrogates in the US are ten a penny in Calipornia so a 43 year old grifting yachter won’t have a problem giving “birth” there. You can pay a Surrogate out of the 5mill. Docudrama you’re making in LA. ALLEGEDLY, SPECULATION OF COURSE.

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Nov 6

ALLEGEDLY ANON … THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE. HMTQ. is the head of our 1200 year Monarchy. There was a time in antiquity when only the head of the monarchy could wear the colour PURPLE!! This is so relevant to today’s protocol and practice. Sooooo !! let’s not dilute this ageless and respectful practice. “ are you listening slutchess!! “ ONLY HMTQ …… OK’ good!! now carry on doing what you do best at Soho ho ho ho. Allegedly ,speculation of course

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Nov 7

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Alleged conversation between nutmeg and MA “yeah’ $h!t, tell me about it, stroking his bald f**** head, pretending to be having the best orgasm, haven’t had a decent screw since Madrid. When I come over we’ll hook with George in Malibu, get rat-@ssed , make a weekend of it, NO!! don’t call me, there f*** monitoring my phone, OK sweetie , can’t wait, bye”……… “ yes LG the conversation was recorded by one of our team in the RPO.” … “OK Tony , file under “Your Fu****d.”🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 9

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Nov 11

ALLEGEDLY ANON …… remarks about nutmegs upper lip, all I can surmise is herpes , an old affliction resurfaced. God knows, knowing what we know about her colourful history it wouldn’t surprise me that any number of maladies would have infected her, escorting ,Yachting, So-hoing, auditioning, golf-caddying, friends of porn-stars, hockey players,……… social diseases are an occupational hazard. Allegedly, speculation of course 😷😷😷😷😷

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Nov 11

ALLEGEDLY ANON, “ you wanted to see me Gran, “ Yes Harry, about you both slipping into the royal box , protocol depicts placement Harry!! You both sit at the back for a reason, she’s not a royal, and Harry’ her dress was inappropriate for the occasion, one exposes ones cleavage on reality shows , not honouring the fallen. Now pop off to America and try to be a Little understated, remind your wife to return those earrings. They belonged to Queen Mary, remember Harry, discretion not obsession.

And here is why I don’t believe you. Harry is NOT leaving, I hardly doubt HM would be so calm…..and second…MM NEVER borrowed any jewelry from HM! That is fake! Those earrings were cheap…..only HM wears Queen Mary’s pearl earrings….MM has NEVER worn them…..this conversation NEVER happened! And another thing…….Harry would not have moved seats without permission…not that close to HM!

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Nov 11

ALLEGEDLY ANON, ALL HAIL THE DOC. O dear sweet Kate, elegance personified!! On the balcony with HMTQ and Camilla, dressing as You always do , class and dignity. That Cossack style coat with matching (fascinator) or hat. The most photographed woman on the planet. This is protocol and the Royal Family in all its mystique. Long may it live Thank you dear Skippy for posting so many tributes to the mother of our most loved George,Charlotte and Louie. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🦄🦎🧸

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Nov 11

ALLEGEDLY ANON … IMAGES OF A DESPERATE ESCORT … of all the slutty images we have seen over the last two years( too many to mention) there are thousands that her PR destroyed that would compromise her position as a wife of a member of the royal family. Is this the dossier that the DM paid a million pounds for, and the intel. that LG has onmegatramp, that face of a thousand smirks says it all “ I’m untouchable”. Where have those lips been Harry??Ughhhh !! Allegedly , speculation of course.

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Nov 13

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Expect nutmeg to hook up with HRC during the next few days , mutual hugging and @ss kissing. Dorito will appear in a out of focus photo with Harry and nutmeg, a PR statement will announce another pivotal ploy that she will go to the states but may return to be at Sandringham for Christmas, or may not. All smoking mirror Kabuki for the tabloids to drool over and lay false trails. Actually nutmegs in the Caribbean soaking up the men. Allegedly. Speculation of course.

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Nov 13

ALLEGEDLY ANON, “ were going to LA , NOooooo were staying here!! O’ going to Sandringham then , Noooo, were gonna feed the ‘omless at shelter nr Windsor, feed them what , you know Turkey and stuffing,an Brussel sprouts an stuff!!! I’ll take archificial for the sympathy vote , look all humanitarian like’ Haz can f***off to see his gran and I’ll dump archificial on Dorito,then I’ll shlep off to So-Ho house for a quick shag with MA.… 🎼jingle bell,jingle bell,jingle bell c**k. 🎼 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 14

ALLEGEDLY ANON, dear skippy, I know this great blog is not political but KAC just Blitzed ,Wolf Blitzer on CNN , EPIC!! …… The Queen is reported by the DE That she “drops in” on our dynamic duo because nutmeg needs “ cheering up”, and so she has a cuppa with the depression prone actress drawing on her years of experience to inject some positivity, yeah right!! 🤣🤣🤣 we all swallow that bull$h!t. Sunshine Sucks in disaster mode again!! HMTQ DROPS IN ON NUTMEG!! … WTF!!

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Nov 14

ALLEGEDLY ANON, She was pregnant? A shotgun marriage of unhappy people, a WTF wedding cake, a very hurried guest list, no pomp no carpet, only a narc would walk alone down the aisle alone with the knowledge you’ve got him by the b***. A very strange fakency, no record of actual birth date, FFS birth certificate, “ he’s changed over two weeks” , “ can we see his face.” WE ALL WITNESSED HER LIES, WE ALL SUSPECTED SOMETHING ODD. WE ALL KNEW. IF SHES HONEST , WHY THE AGGRESSIVE PR?? 🤔🤔🤔

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Nov 14

ALLEGEDLY ANON, THIS VIDEO OF THE BUMP POPPING WHEN SHE STANDS UP. nutmeg looks very self conscious and embarrassed. ( build-up of air within the prosthetic and a rapid exhalation of compressed air. ) sounds like a “pop”. She compresses the prosthetic when she bends down and air is rapidly expelled as she stands up. POP!! Anyone still think she was REALLY pregnant??? Didn’t think so.

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Nov 14

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Rebecca English , HRC visits nutmeg and archificial Hold up , hold up, didn’t I mention this earlier this week ……… the old hack has stolen my scoop !!!!! Can’t give out good information without it getting nicked by the DM and there desperate scribes. Remember …… YOU SAW IT FIRST ON SKIPPY!!!!

*******

nov 13

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Nov 14

ALLEGEDLY ANON, So, Rebecca English writes today “EXCLUSIVE” HRC visits nutmeg, ON THE 13th , two days ago Allegedly anon writes , HRC WILL VISIT NUTMEG!! , all we can conclude is that RE gets her information on SKIPPY!!! like so many informants proclaiming scoops they see IT FIRST ON SKIPPY!!! And we all know nutmeg visits here. And HMTQ god bless her. Nutmeg reads the blog and then goes up to her bedroom and cries😭😭😭😭😭😭

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Nov 15

ALLEGEDLY ANON, HRC was reported to visit nutmeg and archificial ……… but NOT APPEARING ON COURT CIRCULAR “ Sooooo BS !! It’s all a PR push with the tabloids trying to put some lipstick on this propaganda pig. Rebecca English trying for a try, whooooops , tabloid tosh. Where are your receipts , “ well actually I haven’t any” “ I just printed the gossip” sources darling, sources !! It’s suggested that you’re a good journalist, but that’s gossip, allegedly, speculation of course.

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Nov 15

ALLEGEDLY ANON, THE DEADLY DIARIES, O, yes the Machiavellian manipulator has a diary, ( actually she’s on her third) an intimate record of conversations, events and observations that has “ affected” the “ I’m not OK” Woke scribe over the , leading up to, wedding and disasters afterwards. And don’t let us forget all the “ pillow-talk” she’s chronicled. She’s gathered more $h!t on the royal family over the past year that defies comprehension. speculation of course. Publication imminent allegedly.

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Nov 18

ALLEGEDLY ANON, WELL, here’s a thing, nutmegs coercion of Harry to skip Christmas with the family seems selfish and petty, both PP&HM in their nineties need the love and support of the royal extended family, nutmeg has a younger mother and plenty of years to indulge her self-centredness. She’s not helping the damage limitation by swanning off to Malibu in her poo hat. 💩💩💩… allegedly,speculation of course.

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Nov 19

ALLEGEDLY ANON, The “ court of public opinion” and “trail by media” is a popular hysterical pastime, the peeps need drama , what would we do without the constant daily shower of innuendo and hearsay, gossip and third hand “quotes” from the ever sensational “Tabloids”. Headlines are contagious, insidious deformation of character is the rule of day wether true or false. I’m guilty of jumping on the bandwagon of conjecture. BUT … I suggest we all wait and see. IUPG. allegedly speculation of course.

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Nov 20

ALLEGEDLY ANON, BC logged 26 recorded trips on Epstein’s private jet. “ my friend Bill Clinton sat on that seat”,Epstein said to a pubescent jet traveller as she flew to an assignation with the paedophile Billionaire. MSM seems to have air brushed this out of the public conscience, while castigating PA , BC seems to have very powerful press Associations. S’pose nobody wants to be suicided. Allegedly, speculation of course 💀💀💀🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 20

ALLEGEDLY ANON, PA has fallen on his sword, for whom?? Wellllllllllllll! …… BC and his Arkansas cabal has all the tapes, the FBI , has tapes. but, BC has “THE” tapes. Allegedly there were over 15 cctv cameras in his NY mansion. Hypothetically these tapes would hold very incriminating evidence on most guests visiting the Machiavellian mansion. Teflon bubba has complete immunity from association with young girls to murder. Unfuckingtouchable!! Allegedly speculation of course. 💰💰💰💰👯‍♀️👯‍♀️

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Nov 21

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Nutmeg courted by Marvel Pictures, Sony, and Disney on arrival in LA. This opens to conjecture her ambitions while in negotiations with said production giants. Courting future ambitions for a return to her former occupation she is using her celebrity to get a foothold into Hollywood ?………… will PH follow??🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 22

ALLEGEDLY ANON … SO… Nutmeg takes down her Wikipedia post on being a “deal or no deal” hostess!!!! Trying to airbrush her dubious past. There’s an interview with a golf tournament organiser about hiring “deal or no deal girls” as “caddy’s”. She said nutmeg as married, and had a “KID” and was very popular girl with the golf pros. Mmmmm ‘ someone let the “KID” out of the bag. Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Nov 22

ALLEGEDLY ANON, I wonder if the cancellation of “ Breakfast in America “ has anything to do with the Epstein forthcoming revelations. Nutmegs been banging on about America’ America, for ages,suddenly it’s all off. I believe she has “history” with PA ( yachting) And with JE&GM procuring?? ( hidden years). She’s gone all incommunicado since PAs disaster interview. PA should suggest,turn up at Hamley’s with archificial buying Christmas presents. Allegedly,speculation of course.

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Nov 23

ALLEGEDLY ANON, WHERE IS NUTMEG, not at frog cottage, she’s still smarting from being fobbed off with a “cottage” instead of a palace that she spends her time at itinerant different crash-pads in and around the Capital. Secrecy is paramount when protecting nutmeg and archificial, ………… but wait!!! Nobody has ever seen archificial, is he real???? Was he EVER REAL?? nobody knows,nobody cares anymore. Maybe Harry will shed light. Allegedly, speculation of course 🤫🤫🤫

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Nov 23

ALLEGEDLY ANON, with respect, the monarchy is a dignified elder statesman ruling with ageing concepts that haven’t changed for over 50 years. With it come the problems of cosseted contempt. There is redemption, W&K have the professional ability to change and add a new reality of “ we the people” to the monarchy as a young “Family”. Everywhere they go they trailblaze fresh and new examples of a monarchy for the 22nd century. LETS LET THEM!!

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Nov 24

ALLEGEDLY ANON , One thing my little birdies tell me that’s a consensus among the royal family and it’s this. Nutmegs atrocious taste in clothes. The colonial carpetbag has never sought advice from the younger well dressed royal women on he wardrobe, hence she remains the worst dressed offender in Windsor. And no amount of PR spin can correct that. So she’ll remain an assault on the visual senses for The distant future, poor us. Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Nov 25

ALLEGEDLY ANON, POTUS /Melania will stay with the ambassador to the court of St. James and the siblings will probably stay in the same hotel as last year while in London, expect Ivanka to contact nutmeg. The banquet will be a very formal and stiff, Trump will give an address but drift off script, HMTQ will remind all of the importance of NATO. Kate will steal the show and William will endorse his king in waiting credentials. A cool evening. Allegedly, speculation of course.

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Nov 25

ALLEGEDLY ANON, Nutmeg is going to choreograph her Christmas card photo because she’s jealous of Kate’s talent in photography. The Green eyed monster is alive and flourishing at frog cott. or wherever she’s sleeping these days,expect a horrifying snap of ginge&cringe with archificial at a suitably obscure location. We wait with baited indifference. 🧣🧣🧣🧣

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Nov 25

ALLEGEDLY ANON, MM said she’s being pitted against the DOC. ………… Ehhhhh , Nutmeg ‘ QUEENS don’t compete with hoes. The Monarchy is the privilege of few , a hoe is a hoe is a hoe. …………… yacht sluts are ten a penny, no matter hoe they married. Allegedly, speculation of course. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 27

ALLEGEDLY ANON, back in LA and attempted the most difficult of tasks, cooking a dinner? yep’ nutmeg has decided to roast the turkey. OMG, how will she cope ‘ frantic phone calls to Cory, are the roast potatoes crispy, do I put the pigs in a blanket on an hour before the turkey has finished? are The Brussels Firm or soft ? WHAT ABOUT THE GRAVY?? yes nutmeg it’s a nightmare, and your skills are only good in one domain. Not the kitchen!! Allegedly speculation of course. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🦃🦃🦃🦃

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Nov 27

ALLEGEDLY ANON, THE AGE ISSUE !!!! how old is nutmeg?? my sister is 53 and thanks to PGs wrinkle cream she looks 33. But nutmeg is “ supposedly is 38 but looks 48, her actual age is 43. Another fakency,yehhhh, good luck with that one ‘🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 wants to find another surrogate for a birth in LA. How does Harry live with this fantasising bint. , O yes ,that’s right ‘ he doesn’t !!! Hey nutmeg how’s the Turkey doing?i smell burning. 🦃🔥🔥…… Allegedly ,speculation of course.

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Nov 29

ALLEGEDLY ANON, we now have video footage of a brave member of the public tackling a terrorist with a s/vest strapped to him , the police pull him clear then shoot him. Sanity is restored, don’t fuck about, just shoot the POS. BRAVA MET POLICE. lot of isis returned from Syria recently and more released from jail. They have contaminated our once beautiful city , GSTQAOBC.

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Nov 30

ALLEGEDLY ANON, WHERE’S THE BABY ?? The most disturbing appearance was at the polo match when she wore the green tent. Nobody acknowledged her or the doll she carried around “RE-WATCH THE VIDEO” that was a seriously disturbed individual. ITS TIME THE PRESS RELEASES ALL THE EVIDENCE THEY HAVE IN CAMERA. How many of the public haven’t seen her barbecue ad? or the undressed maid. Better still , sex on the Jamaican balcony?? ALLEGEDLY SPECULATION OF COURSE. 🤣🤣🤣

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Nov 30

ALLEGEDLY ANON, DEAR SKIPPY, OUR PRIMARY PURPOSE IS THE CONVICTION OF THE COLONIAL CARPETBAGGER, I shan’t loose focus on this procedure, to expose her grifting, lies and entrapment of a Prince. The fakency, illusion of a birth, the doll months , the non appearance of Archificial, the “ soup kitchen “ thanksgiving lie, the ‘ I’m hiding in America,Canada, Calipornia lies. Actually she’s holding up with her minders in SOHOE. trying to arrange her next faux headline.

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douxreviews · 6 years ago

Text

The Craft (1996) Review

"Now is the time, now is the hour. Ours is the magic, ours is the power."

Witchy powers given to angsty teenagers, what could go wrong?

(This review includes spoilers.)

This movie happens in fours. There are four main characters. Four directions. Four elements. Even the movie can be seen as four parts: 1) New girl in town. 2) Girls forming a bond. 3) It's all fun and games until someone gets thrown through a window. 4) Magic tears them apart/final showdown/Bug-o-rama. I appreciate patterns I can follow.

The new girl in town is Sarah. Her family moves into a mansion in Los Angeles that's been neglected and is now falling apart. I only mention this because with all the overgrown vines and snakes, it looks like somewhere that's closer to a swamp in Louisiana than any part of LA that I've seen. Sarah is a natural born witch (she can balance pencils with her mind, don't be jealous), and has always felt like an outcast. Probably because she was sporadically going deaf, but whatevs, it makes her more than ready to embrace friendship with the fellow outcasts or as they're affectionately known, 'The Bitches of Eastwick.' Chris, the cool jock, takes an interest in the new girl too, and of course proceeds to spread rumors about her promiscuity and lack of a skill set in bed. Naturally, this makes him even more appealing to her and she eventually casts a spell "to love [herself] more and allow [herself] to be loved more by others. Especially Chris Hooker." You know what they say... if he's mean to you and shows a general lack of respect, then he must be a good guy underneath that really cares about you.

Bonnie is a burn victim with low self-esteem. You can tell because in the first part of the movie she wears a lot of giant coats (which have to be uncomfortable in the heat of LA), keeps her hair in her face and never looks up. She wants "to be beautiful outside as well as in," and once she gets it she heads straight for the backless shirts and push-up bras, because who wouldn't?

The bonding part of the movie is my favorite. It's so cheesy and predictable that it's perfect. They laugh, they watch Bewitched reruns, play light as a feather stiff as a board and have glamour makeovers. So much fun is had, but it all falls apart when Chris becomes an obsessed stalker and Rochelle's bully start losing her golden locks. There was that scene when Rochelle couldn't look at herself in the mirror, so her reflection turned away from her, but other than Sarah the girls showed no remorse for the people that were affected by magic. In the end, it splintered the group.

Mean Girls taught me that every group of girls needs a leader, no matter how insane. Enter Nancy. She's probably off her rocker from the beginning, but the power she receives turns out to be too much for her to handle. She uses them to kill her stepdad (he sort of had it coming), get rich, and if that's not enough she also wants "all the power of manon." The thing about Nancy is she doesn't bother me nearly as much as Bonnie and Rochelle. Sure, she earned the room in that padded cell, but insanity can't be helped. The betrayal and blatant disregard for their actions could be. Bad sister witches, no broomsticks for a week.

For me, watching this movie is like listening to The Spice Girls. I still enjoyed every minute of it, but how much of that is due to nostalgia?

2 or 3 out of 4 kaleidoscopes of butterflies??

Bits and Pieces

I wonder if those dead sharks that manon sent Nancy came with gift receipts, because they really won't go with anything.

At one point Rochelle said that Sarah made Laura Lizzie's hair fall out? Did she make all the wishes come true or was it just meant as a thank you for showing up and completing the compass circle?

When the girls 'called the corners' I noticed the following... — Rochelle brought a fish and called to the west with the powers of water and intuition. She was on the swim team. — Bonnie brought a butterfly and called to the south with the powers of fire and feeling. She was burned by fire and had scars all over her body. — Sarah brought a bird and called to the north with the powers of mother and earth. Her mother died during childbirth. — Nancy brought a snake and called to the east with the powers of air and invention. I can't make a connection here, and I've tried.

Also, the animals they brought were sacrificed, right? Isn't that the first sign of an unstable person?

There were two instances of leaky roofs. First, when Sarah got to her new house and again in Nancy's trailer right before her step-dad died.

The way Bonnie's spell backfires is a little confusing. She becomes mean. She specifically said that she wanted to be beautiful on the inside and the outside. So did her spell only half work?

The magic shop owner served as the obligatory sage teacher, but they never listened to her so I don't know that she really served much point other than candle provider.

The bugs were a bit much, but effective. I would almost certainly die of a panic attack.

Chris: "Oh, shit. It's the bitches of Eastwick."

Bonnie: "Everything in nature steals, you know. Big animals steal from little ones." Sarah: "Animals steal for survival."

Bus Driver: "You girls watch out for those weirdos." Nancy: "We are the weirdos, mister."

Rochelle: "I think she doesn't want to be white trash anymore, but I told her, like, you're white, honey, just deal with it."

Lirio: "True magic is neither dark nor white. It's both because nature is both. Loving and cruel all at the same time."

Lirio: "Whatever you send out, you get back times three."

Bonnie: "I spent a big chunk of my life being a monster and now that I'm not I'm trying to enjoy myself. Sorry if that bothers you."

Sarah: "Let's go." Nancy: "No. He's gotta pay." Chris: "You're just jealous." Was he right? I mean she seemed to get most upset after he rejected her each time.

Nancy: "God, if I was as pathetic as you are I would've killed myself ages ago. Get on with it."

#The Craft #Robin Tunney #Fairuza Balk #Neve Campbell #Rachel True #Doux Reviews #Movie Reviews

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majorgarrett93 · 2 years ago

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The Unforgettable Night

Jeff Adams, an everyday guy who worked a 9-5 shift in an office would experience a very unordinary night. He was off work; It was a Friday night and planned to meet up with friends at a bar over twenty miles from his home in a town by the name of Winlock.

He knew the last bus route since he didn’t drive due to economic reasons, it was the perfect night until he was waiting, the bus hadn’t arrived. Another bus of another route arrived, the driver informed him about the accident they got in and he’ll have to wait until 6am the next day. He forgot his phone as well and would be stuck out on the streets of Winlock all night. He had a little money but couldn’t afford even a cheap motel, so he took some pills his friend gave him to stay up all night as he struggled with insomnia. He stops at a gas station, asks to use their bathroom which the owner tells him that it's for customers only, so he buys a couple cheap beers. He got the key and went to use the bathroom, crushed up a pill then snorted it and downed the beers. Cashier called the cops instantly because he was suspicious after he took over five minutes. Cops follow him five miles to the other side of town just to confront him about finding a rolled up recite as well as white residue and empty beer cans. They’re ready to take him in until a man is seen across the street in the park completely nude, under the influence of flakka and having sex with a tree while moaning intensely. Cops restrain him and eventually ambulance show up, Jeff could hear him screaming and threatening cops and paramedics, shouting “I am God, and I will destroy the Winlock police department!” Jeff sits down on a bench to take a rest and is approached by a woman who appeared to be a hooker, in tears crying about how a man has been trying to kill her for days. He goes to the ATM to get the rest of the money out of his account to help her, he passed a strange man in the park and suddenly hears three gunshots. He runs into a bar and tells the bartender what happened, and he just replies, “serves that cheap whore right.” Used the bathroom, thought he was alone until a guy came out of the stall and caught him, “clean that white gold off your shirt, cops here got sticks the size of 2x4s up their asses.” Realized that he had extra money in his pocket that he forgot about, orders a few whiskeys, ready to order coffee and pay his tab until he becomes interested in staying longer due to two reasons; Noticed his old friend David from high school which he was David’s only friend, often picked on due to his mental illness. Jeff also noticed an entertaining fight going on between two girls; One typical goth girl and one about two hundred pounds overweight wearing pajama pants and a shirt that said, “spoiled rotten bitch”, like something on the People of Walmart calendar. “Hey David, remember me, Jeff?” he shouts, David joins him for a beer, “Make that coffee two Millers, one for my old pal David.” Trailer trash girl makes fun of David saying, “freak off his meds again?” Jeff stands up for David, “shut up whitetrash bitch, must’ve walked a mile too far cause that’s where the crackhouse is.” Fight is about to break out and both David and goth girl try to break it up, goth girl takes the punch and tells Jeff, “Should've just hit her, you call that stuffed pig a lady?” Fight began to break out, they both got into it. Bartender steps in and makes them leave so they had to take it to the streets. Who won the fight? Well, one girl was found unconscious in the street like she got pushed off the sidewalk, trucker who first mistook her for a dead cow. Bar was closed that night, one guy tells Jeff, “Saw you snort that powder, but I won’t tell, stay at my place tonight." Invites him into his car when he tells him situation being stuck on the streets and tells him how he can stay at his house. He then says, "Yeah, stay at my house tonight. No charge and free dope on the house if you can show daddy a good time in bed." Jeff jumps out of the car into moving traffic almost getting hit. He notices it’s almost 4am and has only two hours until he's suddenly knocked unconscious and mugged. Later wakes up in the hospital. He is later being discharged after being medically cleared and sees a man in the room across from him handcuffed to the bed and surrounded by cops. Keeps begging for painkillers and shouting “my dick’s on fire!” Jeff got home safe finally but would never forget that one night.

#dark comedy #funny #inspired by real events #insanity #drugs

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kee-writestrashh · 6 years ago

Text

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary: You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

**warning: blood, violence, gore, torture, smut; a very ramsay things kinda chapter

Chapter 35: Kill4Me

"Is this smart?" You asked, looking at the rundown bar.

It sat perfectly on the corner between the Roses, Lions, and Stags. Nowhere near the Kings or Boys. If things went south, there was no back up readily available.

"Who cares about smart when you can have fun? You hear all kinds of shit in here. Rowdy folk. Good place to get the scoop on anything you want. Technically not allowed to be here anymore, but I see they've made some staffing changes and new management." Ramsay shrugged, leading you to an empty table as glancing over at the bar.

There you saw a pretty young woman with long, platinum hair. She looked very out of place next to all the other staff members.

"This place is shit." You said, curling your lip in distaste.

"Uh, yeah. That's why the locals call it the shit hole. Full of hookers, bikers, convicts, felons. Shit drugs. Good drugs. Whatever. And yet for as shitty as the place is, plenty of uppity people come here too." Ramsay replied, watching a big, tattooed biker grab all over the blonde girl.

But she seemed to like it, as she laughed and carried on with him.

"Here's how the game works. Watch these people and pick one. Tell me their story and why they deserve to die." Ramsay said, holding you close in his lap, and taking a beer from Matt, who had just returned to the table.

You leaned back into him, lacing your fingers in his free hand.

"But what if they don't deserve to die?" You asked, looking around.

"We all deserve to die." Ramsay chuckled.

"Okay, Sweeney Todd." You laughed, he snorted.

"Here, watch. Dame, bloke in the corner. What's up with him?" Your husband said nodding to the end of the bar by the bathrooms, where a very sullen looking man sat.

"Overworked, middle class. Hates everything. Kids too loud. Wife's a fat, nagging bitch. Comes here to get away from his trailer park trash life. Wonders if maybe there's someone else here as lonely as him. Does he deserve to die? Probably. He's already dead inside. Might as well do him a solid." Damon said, examining the man closely.

"See? Now, find someone." Ramsay said, placing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You watched a group of men, savoring Ramsay's touches as he kissed at your neck.

"What did your father want?" You asked, as you watched Damon lead Charlotte out to the dance floor.

"Don't know honestly. Went over some numbers and shit. But I think it was just to rub it in my face that he's alive, I guess. Says he will be at the twenty week ultrasound." Ramsay shrugged, fingering his empty beer bottle.

You frowned, panic forming in the pit of your stomach.

"Why do you want to tell Stark we have his sister? We don't have his sister." You questioned.

"Hush, you're ruining the game. Hurry up and pick someone." He said with a huffy sigh.

"This game is boring." You said, resting your cheek on your hand, elbow on the edge of the table.

"It is not boring." Ramsay said, rather defensively.

"Fine. See that guy there in the middle of that group?" You nodded to a group of five men at the middle of the bar. "He has a real hero card. Comes here to rescue drunk women from other dudes just like him. Gets them way too fucking drunk, asks to walk them home, gets them halfway home and they pass the fuck out because he's drugged them. Has his way with them, they never remember, and so off to the next one. He deserves to die because he looks like a fucking douche, his hair is stupid, and I don't like his insecure way about using women."

Ramsay stared at you as you spoke, finally letting his eyes wander to the guy you were talking about.

"Is that so?" He asked, mildly impressed.

"Yes." You shrugged.

He let his wicked grin form, "show me."

You gave him a quick kiss and a smirk, standing abruptly. You slapped him across the face as hard as you could.

"How dare you! Stay the fuck away from me!" You screamed, stomping off and playing up the emotional theatrics until you sat at a table across the room.

You caught Ramsay's eye, as he rubbed his cheek, looking slightly dazed. He bit back the evil smile, watching the man you had pointed out order a drink and made his way over to you at your empty table.

"You okay? Thought I could bring you a drink. He do that to you?" The man said, setting the glass down and sitting across from you.

You brought your hand to your cheek and dropped your gaze, forcing tears.

"Yes." You lied quietly, sliding your wedding ring off and slipping it in your bra, pretending to adjust your breasts.

"You're too beautiful to be with a scumbag like that. Beautiful things should never be hit, or broken." The man, said brushing a strand of hair from your cheek.

You looked past him to see Ramsay watching closely, eyes blazing as the jealously crept up. You gave him a sly wink and turned your attention back to the man trying to seduce you with bullshit words.

"What's your name?" You asked, not sure if you really wanted to know, seeing as he would be dead before the night was over.

"Viserys. And youself?" He said, flashing a toothy grin.

"(Y/n). New around here?" You replied, looking him over. He dressed a bit... different?

"Yeah, actually. Well, sort of. My sister and I were born here, but some fucked up men stole our lives from us, forcing us to flee the country. But now we have come back to take back what is ours." Viserys said, rather emotionally, slidding into the seat next to you and resting his hand on your leg.

"Right. Good luck with that." You said, getting bored of the man, and suppressing the urge to punch him and his smug look, like he had just won the lottery, angry he was touching you.

Maybe this game was fun, when you weren't required to be sober.

"Do you have someone you can call to pick you up?" He asked, his voice sounding hopeful that you would say no.

Charlotte saved you the answer as she swooped in to rescue you, "hey, sweetie, let's get out of here. Found a couple of cute boys to take us home."

You looped your arm in hers, thankful for once to actually see her.

She pulled you along, out of the bar and returned you to Ramsay around the corner.

"The fuck was that?" He growled, pulling you into him and placing a harsh kiss to your lips.

"The way you play is boring. So I altered the rules. You told me to show you, and I did. I didn't slap you too hard did I?" You asked cupping his cheek.

"Do it again and I may make you weak in the knees." He purred, kissing along your jaw.

"So, uh... we'll just go grab him up?" Alyn said awkwardly, looking up at the sky.

Ramsay waved his men away, biting down on your neck.

"Baby, stop. Not here. It's cold, and I will not be fucked in the alley like a fucking whore. Not on this side of town anyways." You said, pulling away from your husband.

"You're right. Apologies, baby girl. Besides, you have someone to kill." He nodded, mastering himself and smoothing out your dress.

You pulled your ring from your bra, slid it back on, and laced your hand in his as he led you to the Jeep.

"Where are we?" You asked, looking at the abandoned building.

"You know... I've honestly no idea. Used to be a hospital. Maybe an asylum. The sign was torn down years ago. But either way, hospital of some sort." Ramsay said, pushing the door open for you.

You wished you had worn anything other than heels tonight as he made you trek up the hill to this damn place.

"Is this where you kill all your victims?" You asked, glancing around the dark, dirty lobby, squinting to see better.

"Nah. Not all of them." Ramsay replied, pulling his gun and a flashlight.

"What if someone comes up here?" You asked, standing rather close to him as he led the way up a flight of stairs.

He laughed loudly, and it sounded eerily haunting as it echoed in the cold darkness.

"No one will come up here. The folks around think it's haunted. Hear bone chilling screaming and begging. Stupid fucking twats. Haunted. Ha."

You nodded, looking around. Ramsay disappeared through a door and you were startled to not find him in the room when you entered. You stood stock still, confused.

"Coming?" He asked, behind You.

You turned quickly, with a gasp. "How'd you do that?"

He chuckled, nodding at a door to your left. You rolled your eyes and followed him, this time gripping his elbow.

He led you up another flight of stairs and finally into a large room, that looked as if it had once been used to preform surgeries.

He pulled his lighter and lit a few oil burning lamps.

"You're a twisted fucker, you know that?" You said, examining a pile of metal tools as the room was bathed in cold light.

"It might have been mentioned to me a time or two." He replied, setting his gun on a tray with the flashlight.

"Now what?" You asked, picking up a cold metal hooked pick.

"Now we wait on patient..." He picked up a clipboard and ran his eyes over it, "one hundred and twenty five to arrive for a very botched surgery." He pulled a pen from his jacket and scribbled on the clipboard.

You continued to examine the tools; some of them making your skin crawl as you tried to imagine what they were used for.

"Well, nurse, it seems you need to get ready for said surgery." Ramsay said, rummaging in a cabinet.

You turned to him and he held out a face mask, surgical gloves, and stained apron.

You stared at him. "Really?"

"Can you confirm he doesn't have any diseases, doll?" He asked.

"No." You said, taking the gloves and mask.

Ramsay slipped the apron over your head and tied the back. He stepped back from you and gave a wolfish grin.

"You should do this more often. Nice white pair of hooker boots next time though. And maybe a shorter dress so I can see that beautiful ass when you bend over." He chuckled, pulling on his own gloves.

You couldn't help but feel your face warm as you glanced him over.

"So... what do I do?" You asked, sitting on the table beside the metal tools.

"Whatever you want. Make him confess his sins. Make him tell you a story. Make him give you the information to his bank account. Sing a song for you. Or just kill him. Whatever you want to do baby girl. I'm only here as support. Just watching today. Today I am just a student." Your husband replied, stepping into you and pulling your mask down so he could kiss you.

You opened your mouth under his, cupping his face, as he snaked his tongue in your mouth. As always, the world fell away as you explored his mouth and a warmth started to grow between your legs.

Banging from the floor bellow made you jump and pull away from Ramsay as you heard Damon talking shit and cursing as he tripped up the stairs.

A few moments later Alyn and Damon shoved Viserys to his knees, Matt bringing up the rear, looking slightly distressed. The man had bound wrists and wore a cloth sack over his head. He struggled violently to get free, making muffled noises, as he apparently had been gagged.

"Strip him." Ramsay said, as if no more than ordering a beer.

"All of him?" Alyn asked.

"No, idiot. We have a lady in the room." Ramsay replied, picking up his knife.

You watched Alyn and Matt strip Viserys as Damon held him still.

"Boss, check it." Alyn said, stepping away from Viserys to reveal his bare chest.

Ramsay tutted in amusement and turned to you, "did you catch his name?"

"Uh, Viserys, I think?" You shrugged, examining the large, red three-headed dragon tattoo on his chest.

Ramsay laughed a cold, merciless mirth. "Viserys Targaryen. The Beggar King. How honored I am to meet you. Well, you sure know how to pick winners, baby girl."

"Should... Should we kill him then?" You asked as Matt pulled the bag from Viserys' head.

"Oh yeah. For sure. But I want to ask him a few questions before he stops breathing. But you are free to do whatever while I question him. I won't take the fun away from you. Get him in a chair." Ramsay said, glancing at Alyn as he spoke the last part.

Alyn heaved Viserys up to standing and thrust him into a empty chair. Matt and Damon tied the man's legs to the chair and the three of them left back through the door.

"What do you want to do first, doll?" Ramsay asked, looking from you to victim.

"I-I don't know. I've never done this before, exactly. You know that." You said, cheeks warming.

Ramsay gave you a warm smile, "come here, my pet. Let's start small. I'll show you."

You stepped over to your husband and he placed a scalpel into your hand. You took the tiny blade, staring at it, still unsure what you would actually do with it.

"Mkay, Targaryen. I'm going to ask you a series of questions. If you do not answer, refuse to answer, or lie, my foxy little wife here will cause pain. Though, I think she will cause pain, regardless..." He stepped into Viserys with a grin, "she thinks your hair is stupid." He whispered with a smirk as he pulled the gag away from your victims mouth.

"You fucking bitch!" Viserys screeched, struggling to stand, eyes narrowed at you.

"Manners." Ramsay warned, his tightened fist coming into contact with Viserys' cheek bone.

You pushed Ramsay aside, gripping the scalpel, jaw clenched. You stopped in front of Viserys, looked him over, and stabbed the blade into his thigh with as much strength as you could.

He howled in pain and struggled in his chair some more.

You stepped back, taking a deep breath and turning to your husband.

"Sorry. He just... made me mad? I dunno. Weird. Anyways, continue." You said, with a small shrug.

"This would be a wonderful time for me to tell you that I love you. I'd also really like to fuck you too. But, first..." your husband said, kneeling down as fingering the handle of the scalpel, "What are you doing back here?"

"Go to hell!" Viserys shouted at Ramsay.

Ramsay turned to you and gave you a look.

You looked around, picking up a cross shaped insturment, "What's this?"

"I believe they call it a trocar? Very sharp. Not sure of its exact use. I'm a banker, baby doll. Not a surgeon." Ramsay said, pulling a stool up and sitting in front of Viserys, who watched you through wide eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" He whimpered.

"I told you, my wife hates your hair. And if something offends her it's my job to make sure it's taken care of. Like any good husband would do. Now, tell me, how many know you are here?" Ramsay said, watching Viserys closely.

"A lot. I'm rebuilding my father's empire!" He said through clenched teeth.

"Liar." Ramsay laughed, pulling the blade from Viserys' leg.

Viserys cried out in pain again. Ramsay sighed, and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket.

"Do you smoke?" He asked, lighting his cigarette and taking a long, deep drag. "Who am I kidding? Of course you do. Look at those track marks. Do they call you the Beggar King because you spend all your money on top dollar shit? Hope you don't mind menthols. Something about menthols lately. Ya know?" He held out a cigarette to Viserys, who gave Ramsay a very cold look.

"Are you going to take it or not?" Ramsay said patiently.

You snorted, setting the tool you were holding down and picking up what looked like a pair of scissors crossed with pruning shears.

Ramsay glanced over at you and motioned you over. Once close enough, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into his lap.

"These are fun for cutting off fingers." He chuckled, taking the cutters for you. "Or, cutting flower stems. Whatever."

"You're a sick bastard. Let me go!" Viserys demanded.

You stared at Viserys. For a man about to die, he was putting on a very brave act.

"How close can I get to cutting your pinky off without you pissing yourself?" Ramsay asked, handing you your weapon back.

"What do you want?!" Viserys screamed, struggling against his restraints again.

"For you to answer my questions." Ramsay replied, nudging you to stand up. He grabbed your hand and led you behind Viserys to his bound hands.

"Will you let me go?" Viserys asked, trying to shift in his seat to see behind him.

"Uh... sure." Ramsay said kindly, clapping the man on the shoulder who jerked and gave a whimper.

You glanced up at Ramsay who shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Oh! Before I forget." He dug in his pockets and pulled out headphones and held them out to you. "I prefer to listen to music. Drowns out the annoying begging and screaming until they pass out."

You took the headphones, remembering you left your phone in the Jeep. Ramsay pulled out his phone and handed it to you before he resumed his seat in front of Viserys.

You put the headphones in your ears, plugged them into the phone. You hit shuffle, slidding the phone in your bra, letting out a loud laugh. Thriller.

You drew a breath, hands shaking as you knelt down to Viserys' bound hands. He tried to fight you, but Ramsay decked him in the face.

You swallowed, gripping the cutters tight in one hand, and grabbed one of Viserys' fingers in your other hand.

You clenched your jaw, bringing the cutters to the skin. You closed your eyes tight, swallowed hard, and held your breath.

Flower stems. You told yourself as you clamped down on the cutters as hard as you could.

You felt the breaking of bone and heard the screaming, despite the headphones. Your stomach flipped. You dropped your hands and everything in them, standing quickly, back turned from Ramsay and victim as you willed the need to vomit to go away.

You tried to master your trembling hands and swallowed hard again.

You weren't sure how long you stood there. A deadly war of pleasure and disgust raging inside of you at what you had just done.

Finally a tapping on your shoulder brought you back to earth as Ramsay pulled the earphones from your ears.

"You've made a wonderful start, baby girl. I'm done with him. Kill him." He said gently, kissing your cheek and grabbing your hand.

"I... I don't know if I can, Ramsay." You admitted weakly.

"I'll help you if you want." He smiled.

You took a deep breath, looking down at the box blade he held out to you.

You took the handle and heaved a small sigh.

"How are you already done?" You asked, with a tiny sniff.

"You've been lost in la la land for about," he glanced at his watch, "ten minutes."

You gaped, unable to say anything. He took your free hand and led you back to Viserys.

You swallowed down the hot bile in the back of your throat as you looked down at the man. Nose broken and bleeding freely. Mouth busted. The dragon tattoo hacked and mostly gone, the bloodied thin strips of skin in his lap. The blood pouring from his chest. You weren't sure he was conscious. You wouldn't even have known he was alive if the blood didn't shimmer every time his chest rose and fell, weakly.

"Quick slit of the neck would work. Or you could stab him here," Ramsay suggested, pushing on a pounding vein in Viserys' neck with his gloved hand.

You gave a simple nod. Ramsay stepped back, crossing his arms and watching you like a hawk.

"Go on." He breathed, excitedly as you placed the blade to Viserys' neck.

"I..." You began, hand shaking again.

Ramsay gave another kind smile and stood behind you, taking your shaking hand in his. Slowly he pushed your hand into the soft flesh and the blood welled quickly under the pressure to escape, spurting from the deep cut.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Ramsay dropped your hand. You dropped the box blade, again, fighting the urge to gag or vomit. You stared at the man you had sentenced to death because of a silly game.

You felt slightly numb. You should have been disgusted. You had committed murder. Twice now. And yet... Well you couldn't place it. You were turning into a monster. Just like your husband.

Slowly you turned your gaze to Ramsay who stood there staring at you through hungry eyes.

He crossed the room and slammed the door. He turned back to you, closing the space between you both in a few quick strides. He pulled your mask off, pulled at your gloves, and hastily discarded the apron. He grabbed you, probably harder than he meant in his excitement.

"Baby girl, fuck me." Ramsay panted, going slightly weak in the knees as he kissed you hungrily.

You kissed him back with just as much force, grabbing his waist and pulling him close.

"What does my daddy need?" You asked gently, sliding his jacket off and clawing at his chest.

"Hurt me baby girl. Make me bleed." He whimpered in your mouth.

He dropped to his knees, bunching your dress up, and nipping at your folds and grabbing your ass with both hands.

You tangled your hands in his hair, with a moan, casting around the room. Plenty of things to cause pain, but nowhere other than a dirty table to get fucked on. Maybe the wall could do too.

"Knife.." You finally said, through a choked moan.

Ramsay dug around in his pockets before placing his favorite blade in your hand.

"Up, baby." You said gently. "And get your shirt off."

You watched him tear his shirt away and ran your eyes over him. The fire in his eyes, flushed cheeks, wayward hair, bare chest, rising and falling with each heavy breath, a slight look of discomfort at the restraint off his pants.

You stepped into him, holding the knife tight. With one finger you ran it across a series of scars along his breast.

"Where did these come from?" You asked kissing each one.

"Me. Whenever I needed to feel pain." He said softly, lacing his hand in your hair.

You pulled away slightly, placing the tip of the knife against the deepest scar. You applied pressure and felt Ramsay tremble under you, making a noise in his throat.

"Harder, you fucking bitch." He growled his grip tightening in your hair.

You pressed the blade further until the tip had disappeared into his flesh and blood began to rise quickly. You pulled the knife down and Ramsay made a hissing noise, tipping his head back as his grip tightened on you and moaned.

You pulled the knife away when you were satisfied with the cut and let the knife fall to the ground with a clatter.

Without really thinking, instinct and curiosity took over. You pressed your finger to the top of the cut and ran it along the edges of the skin. His blood was slick, warm, and bright red.

He whimpered, releasing his hand from your hip to grab at the front of his pants.

You smirked, "You better slow down baby, I've only just started."

You gave him an evil look and pressed your tongue to his cut. Tangy and metallic. Warm, and slightly... sweet? Was that the word to use? Eh, what did it matter? It was intoxicating and erotic and so very guilty.

"I can't." He panted, knees going weak again.

"Oh, you can." You whispered wickedly, sliding your hand in his pants, gripping him hard, and running your tongue slowly over his cut skin again.

Was this how he felt when he was the one in control? Because it was powerful. He was at your mercy.

"Baby girl, fuck me. Quit teasing." He growled, canting his hips as you slowly ran your hand along him, fingering his cut with your other hand.

"No." you whispered, shrugging out of your dress, sliding your hand in his pants again as the dress pooled to the floor at your feet.

You ran your bloodied hand across your breasts, tracing over each nipple while Ramsay watched, licking his lips slowly.

You slowly slid you hand down your body to your throbbing pussy. You slid a finger in with a moan.

Ramsay couldn't stop himself. He yanked your hand from his pants, took one of your breasts in his mouth, worrying your nipple aggressively between his teeth, and sliding his fingers into you with yours.

"Baby." You panted.

"Shut your fucking mouth, slut." He panted back, pulling away from your breast, and walking you back into the wall.

"Mm, daddy. Make me a bad girl." You whispered in his ear, before nipping at his ear.

"On your knees." He demanded.

"But it's cold." You protested.

He grabbed at your breast, pinching at your nipple until you shifted uncomfortably.

"I said, on. Your. Knees." He bit.

"I said, it. Is. Cold." You hissed, grabbing his side and digging your nails in.

"I will punish you for your defiance." He panted, trying to pull away from your grip.

"Do it. Spank me. Hurt me. Fuck me bloody." You whispered back, sliding your free hand to your warm wetness and rubbing at your sensitive spot.

"Fuck, when did you become so perfect?" He moaned, picking you up and walking you to the table.

You leaned back on the table, breathing hard, as you watched him push his pants down. You bit your lip, watching his dick throb.

"Hurt me, daddy."

"Scream for me." He panted, grabbing your hips and pulling you to the edge of the table, where he shoved himself into you.

You drew a sharp breath, grabbing at him, as moved in you again.

"Harder." You moaned out, arching your back and pushing your hips into his.

The warmth at your core began to bubble and become hot. You were rapidly coming undone upon each thrust, breath, and touch.

You clawed at his chest, wanting nothing more than to feel his whole weight on you, to wrap your fingers around his neck, and feel him struggle to breath.

As the hard rhythm with him continued, you pushed yourself up. He slid his hand down your back, pulling you in closer to him, and kissed at your neck.

You tipped your head back with a loud moan, sliding your hands up his chest to grip his throat in both hands.

He made a deep noise of pleasure, and thrust harder into you as you applied pressure to his throat.

Feeling his pounding pulse, his staggered breathing, and his difficulty swallowing made you feel so very powerful. You couldn't hold back the high any longer.

It hit you with such force you weren't even sure what to do as you screamed out and fell back into the table.

Suddenly you were overly emotional as the tears welled quickly and slid down your cheeks.

Ramsay fell into you, breathing hard through a throaty, guttural moan, having met his release. He kissed your tears away, placed a gentle kiss to your lips, and pulled away from you, helping you sit back up.

"I love you, Ramsay." You blurted out.

Ramsay looked up from fixing his pants, "I love you too, (y/n). More than you could ever understand."

You stared at him, savoring his gentle words, as you slid off the table to redress.

"What's on your mind, baby girl?" Ramsay asked, helping Matt untie Viserys and move the body.

"Food honestly. I'm fucking starving." You said, swinging your legs off the ledge of the table you sat on.

"Well, what do you want?" He asked, dropping the dead man and standing up straight, leaving Matt to struggle under the deadweight.

"So, this is going to sound really fucking weird, buuuut... I would kill for the crusts off of grilled cheeses. Ya know? Like, it's just... and like lemonade. But the flavored kind because I hate lemonade. Especially the pink kind. Like how is that even possible? Have you ever seen a fucking pink lemon at the supermarket? Exactly. But like raspberry lemonade or some shit. Yeah..." You said, examining your nails.

"And how many crusts exactly would qualify as a meal?" Ramsay asked, crossing his arms and eyeing you closely. As if he thought you mental.

"How many times do I have to tell that I'm not the math genius, you are? But here, lemme put it in a word problem for your geek ass." Matt dropped the dead man and stared at you, as if afraid for you, but Ramsay only tilted his head with a smirk, raising his brows at you. "(Y/n), can eat two whole grilled cheese sandwiches and feel comfortably full. Each sandwich has four side's, and four equal length crusts. If (y/n) wants to only eat the crusts, how many crusts would she need to consume to get the same comfortably full feeling as eating two whole sandwiches?"

There was a tense silence that followed your words as everyone stared at you, wide eyed.

You gave an innocent smile to your husband, as he narrowed his eyes at you.

He clicked his tongue, running his hand through his hair, "does that include a drink contributing to the fullness, or not? If so, how many sips of said drink are typically in the course of the meal? And is this prepregnancy comfortable or...?"

You gaped at him, "Are... are you being fucking serious?"

"Fuck no, I'm not being serious, woman. Though, in my educated opinion, I would assume the crust off of about five sandwiches would float you to that content feeling. Maybe five and a half. We will test my hypothesis," he turned to Matt, Alyn, and Damon, "if these idiots would ever hurry the fuck up, of course."

"Working on it. You don't exactly make it easy to clean up, you know." Alyn muttered, mopping the floor.

"Alyn, quit your bitching you sour grape. Dame, crashing at your place tonight. We have work to do tomorrow." Ramsay said, lacing his hand in yours and helping you from the table, "Kid, bring five grilled cheeses and raspberry lemonade to Damon's. And be quick about it."

Matt only nodded, looking a bit sick as Ramsay led you from the room.

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foranonwritings · 7 years ago

Text

His love is very necessary to me

“Sometimes I get very tired of Shannon, sometimes I think I I’ll grab something heavy and knock him so hard that his head will be ringing as the plates of the drum set. Sometimes he’s too caring. He is so caring that I sometimes think that I’m dying or physically limited. But when I get tired, I fall on the couch and realize that Shannon is far, he toured with Antoine or somewhere else out there, I feel bad, I miss his absolute care, I want to be a younger brother, who he takes care of. I do not care that I’m forty, I like to be his younger brother, his love is very necessary to me.” — Jared Leto about his older brother Shannon.

@jletolove4eva

Tense silence filled the stretching hallway. Heavy doors with card key locks ran its length. Single barriers between an intrusive reality and whatever alternate existence lay behind them. Jared had lived hotel life long enough to imagine what was being lived, unseen. The thick black on white carpet ensured his footsteps did not disturb the inhabitants of the rooms.

Mentally ticking off the numbers until the desired door was reached. He steeled himself in preparation for whatever might lay beyond. In one motion he slid the card through the slot and turned the smooth handle.

At first glance the suite was a whirlwind mess. Articles of clothing of all kinds were strewn about in their hasty removal. Dozens of beer and liquor bottles covered dressers and table surfaces. But the arrangement of multicolored pills, mingling with a large mound of white powder in the center of the marble coffee table consumed Jared's attention the most; sending him adrift years of memories of heartache, fear and helplessness he'd just as soon forget.

Then movement brought him back to sharp focus as two blonde girls stood and whirled towards the intruder. Behind them, a third form, draped over a couch, barely showed signs of life. Both girls were topless, drunk and wide eyed. Jared's keen eye followed the shorter girl's trailing arm to its end. The delicate fingers trying not to look as if they were reaching for the wallet that peeked over the denim pocket of the third occupant.

"Get. Out." The order was sharp and cold. It startled both the girls, more than he'd meant to, but Jared couldn't care through his mounting disgust. They hesitated for just a moment, as if they thought to size him up. The presumption made him see red. "Now!." He hissed. There was no mistaking his intent then, and both girls clumsily gathered what few clothes were in reach before hurrying out the door. A quiet click the only ghost of their presence.

Breathing deeply Jared deliberately slid an arm over the table top, displacing trash and drugs in a costly dust cloud, clearing a place to sit. He propped both elbows on his knees and scrubbed his face with his hands to regain control. And with a final sigh he decided to pull out a half emptied bottle of water from his coat pocket. A deft twist of his hand removed the plastic cap, and unceremoniously dumped the remainder over the prone form of his older brother. The reaction was instantaneous.

Shannon bolted up sputtering and swiping indignantly at his face. "Shannon." Jared simply stated. "What the hell!" The older brother demanded, unable to entirely hide the disoriented wonder as he fully awoke. Jared cocked an eyebrow as if in consideration. "Welcome back. What the fuck are you doing?" There was a low growl in the question.

"I could ask you the same." Shannon feigned leisure, leaning back and putting a booted foot next to his brother on the table. Jared wanted to scream and let loose a tirade of outrage at this supposed normalcy. Instead he breathed again and forced himself to see through his brother's stubborn defenses. "Thought I'd come see how the tour was going." It was calculated, deliberately non judgemental. Shannon rolled his head from shoulder to shoulder as if to unkink his neck. It was chess, and the loser would be the first to break the illusion of control. "Had off tonight. What's your problem Jared, don't be coy." Shannon baited,then stared purposely at the ceiling, hands behind his head.

"So you hole up with some hookers to coke out? Saved your wallet by the way." Jared gripped his knees, the motion familiar and grounding. "Not that it's any of your business." Shannon emphasized, "thanks for my wallet, though." His gaze returning level, he still refused to meet Jared's eyes, he knew if he did, the game was over.

"Are you kidding!?" Jared roared, suddenly standing. Shannon jumped in his seat on the couch. The game was definitely over. "Not my business? Who drags your ass back from the brink when you fall into this shit? You're not just killing everything you've worked your ass off for brother, you're taking MY dream with you!" Shannon flinched as his facade crumbled.

The silence settled slowly over them again. Both brothers feeling very old, and very raw. Knowing exactly what the other was thinking. The same old back and forth. The how could yous, and I'm sorrys, stale as the cemetery of cigarette butts in a beer bottle.

"I-I know you did this," Jared gestured bigger than the room around them. "because you wanted something of your own. But; you have to know, I will never lose you to this." Jared purposely didn't acknowledge the substances on the floor. "Not while I'm breathing Shannon. This life can't be ok." Jared wasn't sure when he'd sat back down, but he attempted to meet the darker eyes across from him. And when he did, they were just as familiar as ever, with the same emotions running through them, the love, the fear, the wild passion. Everything he loved and admired in his big brother, that also made him fear for him.

"It's not like that. I just wanted a break. To be out of myself for a night and this, here, I didn't want to drag you in." Jared barked a laugh and looked around the room again. "Unless you've got Keith Richards stashed in a closet this is more than one night." Shannon's eyes rolled in agreement. "Yea, guess it did go a little Hunter S. Thompson." They both smiled devilishly. "I can't come home yet Jared. I've gotta finish this with Antoine." Then a thought stopped him. "Mom doesn't know, does she?" Jared's face grew a little harder. "No. She thinks you lost your phone. Again." Shannon nodded, clearly grateful. "But this," Jared gestured to the mess on the floor. "stops. Tonight." It was Shannon's turn to lean forward. Elbows on knees, hands covering his face. "You're right." He acquiesced after a few moments.

Jared pivoted and sunk into the couch next to his brother. "Imagine letting you loose on Amsterdam. Jesus!" Jared scoffed. Shannon laughed and plopped back. "Shut up! They were hanging around the back door of the last club. You know I never pay." Shannon cocked an eyebrow. Jared immediately furrowed his own in defense. "I don't PAY!" Shannon laughed harder. "I know, you're too scared of girls." "I am NOT scared! I prefer to have a connection with someone that I sleep with." Jared grimmaced as his retort hung in the air. He waited, now refusing to meet Shannon's gaze. It did not keep his older brother from bursting into a fit of giggles. They continued trading jabs and digs, falling into thier own personal rapport as the hours rolled by.

And finally, when the night was its darkest and most quiet, Shannon brought up the detail they'd both been avoiding.

"You didn't come here to see how the shows were going." He stated, playing with a plate full of chips they'd long since stopped eating. "You would kill it playing with a choir of gregorian chanting nuns." Jared replied absently twirling the keycard between his thumb and forefinger. "And that's a mental image." Shannon snorted.

"How many more do you have?" "You know how many." Shannon smiled. "And my kit at your place will be my first stop as soon as I get back." He didn’t respond, just searched the face he knew so well. “I’ll be there Jared. One thousand percent. I’m coming back.” Jared nodded. He stood and headed out the door. No traded goodbyes, or brotherly hugs needed.

Alone, awake and sober Shannon began the task of sorting, cleaning and returning his room to general order. All to keep his mind from wandering to topics too vast for a post bender 4 am. He deliberately did not hear the quiet, tempting whispers as the pills found their way into the toilet. Did not reflect on two little boys whose whole world was the joy and peace they found making music as he sorted his practice pads in their cases. And definitely did not think about two men, so in sync that being on opposite sides of the world would not keep them from quelling each other's loneliness or tendency to teeter on the edge of disaster. And as Shannon finally sat back down at the kitchen counter, steaming coffee not entirely enough to face the oncoming day. he noticed 1 text message waiting on his phone. A single image, unmistakably his brother's hand, holding his wallet. Shannon couldn't help but reach for his back pocket, only to find it empty. "Son of a bitch." He smiled.

#30 seconds to mars #Jared Leto #Shannon Leto

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buckyscrystalqueen · 7 years ago

Text

New Year, New Leaf: Part 2

Pairings: Carter Baizen x Reader (Sugar Daddy Carter Baizen)

Warnings: Swearing, attempted rape (if you squint really hard), fluff, propositioned prostitution I guess.

Word Count: 4,530

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well you clean up nice.” You smiled shyly at Carter as you glanced down at the brightly colored, floor length dress you had picked out. It reminded you of an abstract painting. With a nod, you glanced up at him and grabbed the coat that Sierra had insisted you needed off the hook by the door. You stepped out of your apartment as you shrugged it on and closed the door behind you.

“Thank you. I’m a little out of my element here.” Carter smiled and offered you his arm to help you down the stairs in your heels.

“Just pretend it’s a student show or something. It’s no big deal.” You huffed a laugh as he held open the door to your building and lead you out into the cold.

“Yea, no big deal to you because you probably do this all the time. I’m just an art student.” You thanked the driver you recognized from the other night and slid into the welcomingly heated limo. Carter slid in after you and nodded.

“And that is what I’d like to talk to you about.” You glanced over at him as the driver pulled away from the curb and into traffic. He turned on the seat to look at you as he pulled a joint from his jacket. With a quick flick of his Bic lighter, he inhaled deeply and held it out to you. You took it carefully as he exhaled toward the cracked open sunroof. “I’d like to offer you a job as my professional date for any events I have to go to.” You smarted a bit as you passed him back the joint and shook your head.

“That’s not a job that’s…” Your brow furrowed as you looked at the joint that he was offering you again. You shook your head and held up your hand as you searched his serious eyes. “That’s a hooker.”

“I think the term is sugar baby.” He said casually as he took a final drag of his joint. He licked his thumb and put it out as he looked back up at you. “And yes, that’s what I’m proposing. I’ve made my way around the Upper East Side and bringing in a fresh face that no one knows would be the perfect screw you to the masses, a great fuck you to Chuck and my folks, and it benefits you…”

“What in Gods name makes you think that I would agree to such a demeaning ‘job’ as you call it.” He cocked his eyebrow at you and gestured to your dress.

“You kinda already did.” Your frowned and crossed your arms over your chest as he pulled a cigarette from a shiny, silver cigarette case. He offered it to you and with a sigh, you took one. “Look, I don’t wanna sleep with you. Well, I mean I do but I don’t expect it. I’m just sick of being with girls that want to go to events strictly to get in my pants. My parents are treating to cut me off if I don’t settle down so I see this as a win-win for all of us. I have a steady date to events, my parents think I’m settling down so I can keep my money, you get money to support yourself and your art work and shit so you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“Win-win.” You said softly as he flipped an ashtray open on his door. You were forced to lean over him to ash your cigarette as he nodded.

“Win-win.” He looked at you expectantly as you reached up to run your fingers through your hair but you paused as you remembered that it had taken the hair dresser over an hour to get it in the tight up-do it was in. With a sigh, you shrugged with your hands and sighed.

“Whatever. I’ve got nothing fucking better to do.” He smirked at you as you took a long drag of your cigarette.

“Oh, and don’t worry about acting like a hoity-toity bitch. I have absolutely zero regard for my public image anymore. Swearing at paparazzi and getting drunk at dinner before a red carpet is absolutely acceptable in my book.” You smirked and nodded at him as you crossed your legs.

“So basically you want me to be as obnoxious as possible as a screw you to your parents for making you settle down.” He chuckled and nodded as he ashed his cigarette.

“Man, you catch on quick.” You nodded as you leaned over him and ashed your own cigarette.

“I didn’t get into NYU by mistake.” He smiled at you as the driver pulled up in front of Ocean Prime. You glanced at the door as Carter put out his and your cigarettes. He glanced over with you as a door man came over to open the door.

“Ready?” You put on a smile and shrugged.

“Fuck it.” He smiled at you and offered you his hand to help you out of the car and into your new roll as his public girlfriend.

——

You didn’t realize that the event that Carter was taking you to was the soft opening of Chuck Bass’ newest bar. You scowled at Carter’s smirk as the car pulled up at the end of the unnecessary red carpet.

“Really, Carter?”

“I thought it was funny… baby.” You rolled your eyes as the door to the car opened. Flashes of light instantly filled the back seat of the car as your date slipped out and offered you his hand. You forced a smile on your face and slipped out of the car. The line of people that were trying to get in almost instantly pulled out their phones to catch Carter Baizen and his newest flavor of the week. You took Carter’s offered arm forced yourself to control your second eye roll as you headed into the building. You blinked a couple times to adjust your eyes to the small darker room, that was decked with deep reds and blacks every where you looked. You scoffed as you saw Chuck Bass, surrounded by a few girls on a black, leather couch in the center of the room.

“(Y/N)?” You looked over as Vanessa pushed herself off the bar with a shocked smile. You saw her new fling, Nate’s eyes narrow at your date.

“Hey, ‘ness.” You gave her a kiss on the cheek and gestured to your new… sugar daddy. “You know Carter, right?” She nodded and gave him a tight lipped smile as Nat put his hand on the small of her back.

“Baizen.”

“Archibald.” You glanced between the two men and Vanessa reached out and touched your arm.

“So where did you go the other night? You just up and left.” You shrugged as the bartender set two of the nights signature drink on the bar. The sight of a pad of paper and a pencil caught your eye as you grabbed the two drinks and handed one to Carter.

“My knight in shining armor here saved me from being raped by Chuck Bass on the roof.” The entire building got dead silent as you took a casual sip of your awful drink. With a blatant look of disgust, you set it back down on the bar as Carter burst out laughing beside you.

“He what?!” Vanessa said as she looked over at Chuck while he stormed over toward you.

“The hell are you doing?” He hissed as he glanced around at the journalists that were getting closer to you to eavesdrop as best as they could. You cocked your eyebrow at him, using the champagne you had at dinner to fuel your distaste for the man in front of you.

“What, don’t like a girl who speaks her mind? Or do you not like a girl who says no?” You seethed under your breath. Carter laughed as he put his hand on the small of your back.

“Don’t make a scene, Bass. You’ll just make yourself look more guilty.”

“I have nothing to be guilty over. I wasn’t even near this slut last night.” You didn’t know what possessed you, whether it was the slight light headedness from the alcohol or the fact that Carter had basically given you permission to be your wild cat self out in public, but you quickly pulled back and punched Chuck in the face with every ounce of force you could muster. The dark room was instantly engulfed with flashes of white light as the journalists got as many photos as they could as fast as they could.

“Get this trash out of my bar!” He shouted as he pointed to you while rubbing his jaw. You raised your hands up in surrender for a moment as a bouncer came over and stood between you and Chuck. You felt Vanessa grab your left hand as Carter laced his fingers with your right and lead you out of the bar.

“He tried to rape you?” Vanessa asked, as she followed you up the road to where Carter’s limo was waiting. You glanced back at her and nodded as Carter pulled open the back door.

“Yea, it was a fucking great New Year’s party.” You said sarcastically as you got in the back and pulled your friend in after you. The pair of you missed the silent, anger filled exchange between your dates outside as you settled into the seat on the side of the limo. “I’d have been screwed if Carter hadn’t been on the roof to have a cigarette as well.”

“Oh, it was nothing, sweetheart.” He said as he closed the door behind him. You gave him a warm smile as Nate glanced over at him.

“Wow. Never thought I’d see the day when Carter Baizen rescues someone other than himself.”

“Nate!” Vanessa hissed as Carter gave the driver the name of what you assumed had to be a club somewhere in Manhattan. Her boyfriend shrugged his shoulders as Carter pulled out a joint and sparked it up.

“Well Archibald, There’s a lot of shit about me that you don’t really know. And the shit Chuck has fed you is ninety percent pure fucking bull shit.” He leaned forward and passed you the joint with a smirk. “Nice hit by the way.” You smirked and sat back against the leather seat.

“You like that? Learned that at NYU, too.”

“Oh, you guys go to school together?” Nate asked as you passed Vanessa the joint. She nodded as she passed it on to Nate without taking her own hit.

“We were in the same Art History class before she went to .” She said with a smile as she glanced over at you.

“We got into a heated debate about Pollock and ended up making out after.” The two men’s hands froze as they were passing the joint and you could almost hear their jaws drop.

“Damn.” They both muttered as Vanessa hit your leg with a laugh.

“So didn’t make out.” She said with a shake of her head. “We did fight though when we were working on a project but bonded over our similar music tastes…”

“And the fact that our teacher was the absolute, bull dyke spawn of Satan.” Vanessa glanced back at you with a laugh as you took the joint from Carter.

“She really was, wasn’t she?” You nodded in agreement as the cab pulled up to the club.

“Damn… so you didn’t kiss at all?” Carter asked as you handed Nate the last bit of the joint. You giggled and shook your head.

“Sorry, honey. No lesbian wet dreams for you.” He cocked his eyebrow at you as his driver opened the back door.

“Wanna bet on that one?” He disappeared from the car as Nate looked a little flustered and Vanessa blushed scarlet. You followed the two of them out of the limo and accepted Carter’s offered hand. He pulled you into his side and bent down to whisper in your ear. “Damn, baby. Keep this shit up and I may take back the ‘not expecting to sleep with you’ thing because I may not be able to control myself.” You couldn’t help but gasp as he took a half step closer and pressed his half hard length against your thigh. You whipped your head toward him and met his blue eyes with an almost evil smirk.

“That a dare, or a double dare… daddy.” His eyes instantly darkened with lust as his grip tightened on your arm.

“Don’t tease me, baby girl. Not nice to tease.” You forced your eyes to soften mischievously and turned a little more toward him.

“But daddy… where’s the fun in that?” You reached up and ran your fingertips down his jaw and his breath caught in his throat. You pulled your hand out of his, turned on your heel and lifted the edge of your dress so you wouldn’t trip. “Coming, Carter?” You heard him growl as you followed Vanessa and Nate through the red rope and into the loud club you typically wouldn’t be able to get in to. As the music and strobing lights enveloped you into poorly lit room, Carter grabbed your hand. You paused at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the VIP lounge Nate was leading you too and looked back at him. He searched your eyes and you saw, for the first time since his proposition, the caring man you saw New Years Eve and not the man who had offered you money to be his public girlfriend.

“Where the hell have you been all my life?” You shrugged as you reached out for his hand and laced your fingers with his.

“Guess I was just waiting to get saved.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on a giant pillow in your private studio at school, staring at the blank wall in front of you. Kurt Cobain’s voice spilled peacefully through your old, temperamental headphones as you tried to figure out just what you wanted your final thesis exhibition piece to be for graduation. Sketches of your past installations and photographs of every piece you had submitted for grades or student galleries littered the floor around you. You were contemplating maybe doing something along the lines of a memorial when someone touched your shoulder softly.

An extremely unfeminine scream left your chest as you ripped your bulky headphones off your head, sending them clattering to floor in two pieces. You whipped your head around, sending a few loose strands of hair that had slipped your bandana’s hold flying across your face. Carter’s wide, grey blue eyes looked down at you as he fought to hide his laugh.

“I’m so sorry. I called your name.” You huffed and buried your face in your hands.

“Jesus, Carter.” You looked back up at him and brushed the stray hairs back from your face. “How did you find me?”

“Gossip Girl.” Your brow furrowed as you pulled some of your drawings toward you and pointed to the chair folded in the corner.

“The hell is Gossip Girl?” He glanced back at you as he grabbed your chair and pulled it toward you.

“You don’t know what Gossip Girl is?” You shook your head as you leaned over and grabbed a roll of electrical tape from one of the boxes of supplies on the shelf.

“I joined the Facebook when I started school just so one of my classmates could write on my wall for a group project because lord forbid she use email like a normal person would.” You glanced up at him as you peeled the end of the tape free from the roll. “So no, I don’t know what Gossip Girl is.”

“It’s just Facebook not the Facebook.” He told you as he grabbed his iPhone from his pocket and pulled up the website to show you. You stopped taping your headphones back together (for the millionth time) and reached out to look at the zoomed in map of Manhattan. You looked at the tiny picture of your face, showing you were at school and shook your head.

“Well that’s not creepy at all.” You said as you tapped on the photo. You smirked at the picture of you punching Chuck from the week before and shrugged. “Good picture though.”

“I definitely agree.” He took his phone back and sat back in his chair. “So what are you doing?” You sighed as you tossed the tape back into the box and looked up at him.

“Trying to figure out what the hell I’m gunna do for my last project. I’m thinking of doing a 9-11 memorial piece to represent the collapse of modern-day society thanks to social media and media in general but I’m still undecided.” His eyebrows flew to his hairline as you sighed and looked at the sketch of a piece you did your freshman year.

“Damn. And I thought art classes would be easy.” You giggled and shook your head.

“Not at all. Which is why I’ve been staring at a white wall for the past hour and a half surrounded by paper with only Nirvana to keep me entertained.” You giggled and held up your headphones with a shrug. “But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” You set your headphones down and stretched over to grab your sketch book and your hidden glass bowl.

“Well you wanna go grab something to eat? Take a break for a while?” You shook your head and glanced up at the clock above the door as you got up to grab your colored pencils, your toilet paper roll to hide the fact that you were getting high and your lighter.

“I can’t leave for another half hour. Technically, I’m in class right now.” He nodded slowly as you grabbed your small, air-tight container of weed from your bag.

“Do I need to leave?” You laughed and shook your head as you pulled up your black bandeau and set all your stuff down on the ground in front of your pillow.

“Not at all. I already had my hour with my mentor and then I gotta do two hours of ‘self discovery and contemplation’ before I can go. So no one will even know you're here.” You locked the door to your studio and came back over with a smile. You couldn't help notice Carter was shamelessly checking you out; his eyes lingering for a moment at the curve of your backside in your black yoga pants and your D cup breast in their tiny cotton holder. “Hey.” His eyes darted up to yours and you put you gestured to your chest. “These are not my eyes.”

“You put yourself on display like that and I’m gunna stare, baby girl.” You rolled your eyes as you unplugged your headphones from your phone and turned on Nirvana again. “What’s your tattoo?” You glanced down at side and sighed. You stood up straight and pulled down your yoga pants a bit and lifted up your top a quarter inch to show him the metal ladder you had drawn to resemble broken metal and shattered glass windows. At the very top was a depiction of the constellation, Pisces at the top with ‘May you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung. May you stay forever young’ around it and a set of dates at the bottom. It was the only tattoo you had.

“It’s for my mom.” You said as you took a step over to him so he could see it. “She was a nurse and she passed away trying to help at the trade centers after nine-eleven.” His hand paused part way to reaching up to run his fingers over the ink and he looked up at you.

“Holy shit. (Y/N), I’m so sorry.” You shook your head and pulled your clothes back into place with a smile.

“Don’t be. She’s the one who wanted me to come to NYU and pursue my dream of being an artist. That’s why a lot of my pieces revolve around September, 11th in some way.” You leaned over and grabbed a few photographs to show him. “I miss her, sure but I do everything I can to make her proud.” Carter nodded as you sat back down on your pillow and started to pack a bowl.

“So what about your dad?” You huffed a laugh and grabbed your lighter.

“You mean my sperm donor? He dipped out when my mom told him he knocked her up. My older brother raised me when my mom passed away.” He nodded as you lit the bowl and held in the smoke. You used the edge of the lighter to put out the bowl so smoke wouldn’t escape and grabbed the toilet paper roll that you had stuffed with ten dryer sheets. “Exhale in this. I can’t get written up again.” He nodded as you exhaled into the filter, successfully containing the smoke and passed both to him.

“Sorry I brought it up.” You shook your head and swiped your hand at him as you grabbed your sketch pad.

“Don’t be. Most people that know me know about my mom. It’s been over fifteen years. If I can’t talk about her now, I need some serious help.” He nodded as you flipped through the book to find a blank page, sighing when you realized you had only one left. You flipped to it and grabbed your small, black pencil and started drawing. You drew three lines and looked back up at him. “Wait, do you have some important lunch you needed me to go to?” He laughed and shook his head as he passed you back your bowl.

“No. Just wanted to get to know you.” You nodded slowly as you took another hit.

“Is that part of the thing?” You inquired. He shrugged as he took the bowl back and waited for the tube.

“Who knows. But I still wanted to get to know you.” You nodded at him as you handed him the tube and went back to drawing.

“Well, what do you wanna know?” He sighed loudly as you started the outline of his face.

“Well, how come you didn’t put your tuition on my AmEx?”

“Scholarship. Didn’t need to.” He nodded as he sat back in the chair and crossed his ankles.

“How do you support yourself?”

“Different ways. I’ve sold a few paintings at Vanessa’s friend’s dad’s art studio. I have some money left over from my mom’s life insurance policy that I try to stretch out. My brother helps me out if I need it. He’s some fancy lawyer up town. Woo…” You said sarcastically as you shook your hand. “Mostly I make due with what I have. I like it though; the whole starving artist thing is kinda peaceful.”

“What’s your cat’s name?” You smirked and glanced up at him.

“Bristol. My brother got her for me for Christmas.” He nodded again as you glanced back at your sketch pad and continued your rough drawing. “Do you have any pets?” He shook his head at you as he took the last hit of the bowl and knocked the ashes out into your trashcan.

“Nope. Kinda hard to have a pet when you aren’t home much.” You nodded as you glanced back up at him to get the shape of his eyes.

“Do you like that life? The fast, everything at your fingertips life?”

“Well… I don’t really know much else, you know?” You nodded slowly as you looked up to get his lips. “It’s fun though, to be able to travel at a moments notice where ever you wanna go. Like, if you could go anywhere, right now, where would it be?” Your brow furrowed as you set down your black and grabbed your brown pencil.

“You know… I don’t know. Somewhere with pretty views that’s for sure. Ireland maybe.” He nodded as you sketched in his short, brown hair.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been to Ireland.” He got up and put the bowl back in the box you had gotten it from. You tilted your sketch pad toward you with a smirk as he tried to peak at what you were drawing.

“No peeking!” You said with a glance up at him. He huffed and sat back down on the chair as you grabbed the blue and the grey.

“How do you come up with your ideas?” You glanced up at him as he crouched down and started picking up your old sketches.

“I don’t.” He looked up and met your eyes so you shrugged. “I let the artwork talk to me. All those ideas are just the ideas that lead to the final project. These are ideas for those same projects that came to me but didn’t get used.” You leaned forward and tapped the end of your pencil against the box that held all your old sketch books in it. “I just think and draw, think and draw until I come up with something that says what I want it to. Some of those ideas I don’t use, work for other projects and others I just finish for myself.” You shrugged again as you finished up the super rough and fast sketch of the man in front of you with a smile. “That’s the beauty of art.” You blew off the small fragments of pencil led, signed the bottom and handed him your book with a smile. His eyes flew open as he looked back and forth between you and your sketch of him.

“Wow. (Y/N), this is amazing.” You swiped your hand at him and started cleaning up your studio to head home for the day.

“That’s nothing. You should see what I’m capable of when I actually put more time into it.”

“Can I keep this?” You nodded as you stood up from your pillow with your photos and sketches from the floor in your hand.

“Yea, just put that sketch book in that box when you’re done.”

“Are you doing anything when you leave here?” You shook your head as you dropped everything on your desk.

“Not really. Why?” He glanced up at you with a smile as he put the sketch into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Well I owe you some new art supplies. And lunch would be cool, too.” You returned his smile as you grabbed your flannel t-shirt off your table.

“I think I can agree to that.”

——

C’s new babe.

Spotted: our favorite bad boy and current favorite bad girl checking out art supplies at DaVinci and someone looked like kid in a candy store with a lot of brand new supplies. From what I hear she’s just a struggling art student so what brought on the shopping spree? Something smells a little… sugar sweet to me but maybe I’m just a little jaded. I promise to keep you posted as I figure out the details!

You know you love me, Xoxo Gossip Girl

Part 3

#Carter Baizen x Reader #New Year New Leaf #Sugar Daddy Carter

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mortalretribution-blog · 7 years ago

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Dishonorable mentions:

Valerie - fat bitch who maybe has been to jail but never heard the phrase "stay in your own lane". She and others are jealous of the relationship I had and have with Mike, a REAL man.

Litta Bergstrom - dangerous narcissist who should NOT have an authority position. Very manipulative.

Joe Bergstrom - huge narcissist, the whole family is

David Petty - Medford, OR;

paranoid, entitled, and mentally abusive. Big dick though 🍆

Monti Stone - HI, CA, AZ;

just Google the guys name; he is a violent man. Nearly killed his ex and gay man. He killed a cop. Big sociopath.

Randy - HI;

abusive of women, insecure, and he bucketed a meth head guy who is ten times his size and a murderer so he might be dead by now. His ex stole $30k from him and crashed his sailboat, the very essence of karma in action.

Jean-Paul (J.P.) Fontany - HI; and OR;

rapes women and is a hustler and pervert

Buddha girl - kills white people; a racist sociopath

David Stewart - abused authority position to sexually abuse a girl

Ginny Stewart - complicit in above abuse

Debbie Masculine - Conroe, TX;

huge narcissist and mental abuser; enables fellow sociopaths

Wayne Wentland - old guy, abuses authority position to have sex with underage girls. Narcissist. He was the rich asshole who is the V.P. of Milo Academy in Oregon and uses child labor for a side business, assembling parts for the product, those orange sensor things. He lives in Washington currently, used to live in Gresham.

Kim Miller - oversees assembly at Milo and complicit to above abuse

Randy Thornton - principal at Milo and complicit to above abuse. He cheats on his wife and religion, hookers and caffiene. (7th day adventist are against caffiene; and hookers too I assume) Randy and wife live in opulent, grand house while most other staff live in tiny shacks in the parsonage. They holed up a hooker in the yellow house that wasn't up to code and infested.

Steevie - fat bitch who is a bully similar to Valerie and is threatened by smart people

Jayson - North Carolina;

he is trailer trash who exploits a disability and manipulates women. His place is infested with roaches and fleas and his dick is flaccid. He is also a pedophile and had sex with his sister, but then again it is North Carolina - the place where the inbred live and where people call the cops at the sound of a fart.

Drew - Ashland, OR;

poser musician with sloppy guitar and scratchy vocals. He is exploitative and a liar. He is a patriarch pusher and sexual abuser.

Aloha Allerd - Jacksonville, FL;

She is Drew's sister who receives the packages Drew mails out of bulk quantity marijuana cuz they make more money selling it in Florida. Drew uses a small town post office cuz most smaller towns don't scan the packages.

Taber Mcgee - Ashland, OR;

Man, this guys looks is a juxtaposition to his secret abusive personality. He abused his ex and when she was out of town abused the cats and cheated on her. And he farts, ALOT. He also is insane and pushes flat earther beliefs on people.

Shannon - a grifter and abusive to her teen daughter. A narc who seeks out codependents which is why she chose her job where she oversees vulnerable people who have been abused by other narcs but aren't aware yet

Dale Legacie - Burnsville, MN;

exploits women and hides cameras in the bathrooms of his house so he can secretly watch them

Michael Paulsen - Omaha, NE;

He is a huge narc and mental abuser. He kills cats, has porn addiction, and hides cameras as well to watch women undressing.

Matt (Conner?) - Denver, CO and Portland, OR;

He is a widow and architect who exploits women sexually. I suspect he killed that girl he was with, a covert narc and killer.

Pickles - Denver, CO;

a rapist and sociopath

Benedetto (Ben) Hauser - Cocoa Beach, FL;

Google his name for his mugshot. He is a mental and physical abuser.

Dion Chatelain - Merritt Island, FL;

He abused his ex, has S&M rape parties, serial craigslist poster, sexual and mental abuser, lures underage girls under the guise of D&D groups. He sexually harassed me and masturbated in front of me.

Joey Weaver - Portland, OR;

Huge narc who resembles Sheldon from Big Bang theory. Sociopath and mental abuser.

Christopher Maclean - Portland, OR;

@ Chemeketa college, he cheats on his wife with the students

Moses Sarinana - Lodi, CA;

He is a scam artist private investigator scamming his clients out of thousands. Someone I knew hired him to find me lol, but they only got scammed out of money with zero results. He is also a sexual abuser.

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rowdywarrior85 · 5 years ago

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STRANGER THINGS PRESENTS: 8/11, PART 2: THE GODDESS OF DEATH (1ST PART)

STRANGER THINGS PRESENTS: 8/11, PART 2: THE GODDESS OF DEATH

[DISCLAIMER: This story in purely fan-fiction, meaning I own no rights to the show STRANGER THINGS, its episodes or characters. Basically, this story is my interpretation of the show, its episodes or characters. Forewarning, there will be descriptions of violence (sometimes graphic), adult content and language; if you have kids under 17 reading this story, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Either way, hope you enjoy it. Towards the end if this story, it’ll consist with the closing action and ending of Season 3, Episode 1: “SUZIE, DO YOU COPY?”.]

(We open with camera pulling back to the HOLLYWOOD sign encumbered buy the night sky and bathed in light. In the background, we hear CRY TOUGH by Poison as we see the aspects of Los Angeles, California. People walking the streets of Sunset Blvd, Walk of Fame. In the crowd, Kali wades through the plethora of people. She saunders down the streets, contemplating her life after losing her friends to Special Agent Ivan Perdovski and the armed forces of Mother Russia. In her melancholy, she bumps into a passing yuppie on his portable phone.)

YUPPIE: Hey, watch where you’re walking, ya little brat.

KALI: Twat.

(As she continues to walk, she makes her way down Sunset Blvd when one of a bunch of rocker kids snatch a purse from one of the hookers down the way.)

(ROCKERS WHOOPING)

HOOKER 1: HEY, ASSHOLE!! MY MONEY’S IN THERE!!!

HOOKER 2: MOTHERFUCKER!!!

(As the purse snatcher makes his way toward Kali, she focuses on him. He looks back for a second, but as he turns back forward, a decrepit leper pops up in front of him. He screams and falls back, throwing up the purse. The purse falls into the waiting hand of Kali. The rocker kid recovers and sees Kali with his “payday”, he gets up and pursues her.)

ROCKER KID: Hey, bitch. That’s my payday you’re walking away with. Hey, I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, you fuckin’ bitch!!

(The rocker kid grabs Kali’s right shoulder. She turns to him with a face like that of a twisted corpse; rotting flesh, glazed over eyes, blood and pus oozing out of every orifice and a discounted jaw with jagged teeth. The rocker kid screams at the top of his lungs and falls back down. Kali turns away with her normal face. She then tosses the purse to the hooker.)

HOOKER 1: Thanks, honey.

(Kali tosses her a wink then goes about her business. She continue her wayward walk, then finds herself down the alleys of Little Tokyo, scavenging for food. She then smells the aroma of Japanese cooking emanating from a nearby restaurant. She peers through an open window and sees rice, vegetables, fish and chicken cooked up all together. She waits for the cooks to leave the kitchen, then enters through the window. She looks around, wondering where to start. She grabs a nearby bowl, scoops up a cup of rice, bits of broccoli and chicken, spreads it with soy sauce, and scarfs it down. Suddenly, a young Japanese man bursts into the kitchen.)

Y.J.M.: (Japanese) Thief!! What do you think you’re doing?

(The Japanese man makes for Kali, but Kali quickly evades. He then proceeds to attack her, but with her premonition abilities, she manages to evade his attacks and they both exchange blow for blow. Even when he came close at times, she even grabs some food to spit at him with such a retaliatory force. At the end, he gets her in an armbar. But with her abilities, Kali makes him see a King Cobra slither from her sleeve to his arm. He leaps back in fear, screaming at the sight of Kali’s illusion. Until…)

VOICE: (Japanese) Enough!!

(Kali, her assailant and the kitchen crew are stopped by the maitre’d. He is a middle-aged gentleman, short black hair slicked back, solemn eyes, wearing a traditional black and white suit.)

Y.J.M.: (Japanese) Father, I found this interloper in the kitchen, eating our food.

MAITRE’D: (English) English, Kyoji. Let us at least show some manners to this girl. She’s obviously hungry.

KYOJI: (English): Father, be reasonable. She is a cur, an invalid of the streets, like the rest of the trash out there.

KALI: You do realize I’m right here, right?

MAITRE’D: Clearly, she does not fight like one. Do you have a name, girl?

KALI: Kali, sir.

MAITRE’D: I am Koji Yashida, and this is my restaurant THE GOLDEN KOI. Where are you from, Kali-san?

KALI: Born in a lab, raised in all over, Pittsburgh, Chicago. Last known address, Milwaukee.

KOJI: Ah, so you are an outcast. Then nobody will care if you die here.

(Kitchen staff roll up their sleeves, revealing Yakuza tattoos. They grab kitchen knives, guns and ninja weapons.)

Unless, you give me a very good reason why I should let you live.

(Kali assesses the situation around her, then proceeds to make the Yakuza see them holding bloody human organs. They drop their “organs” in digest and fear. Koji and Kyoji, however, see a tall, female Ju-on wearing a plain, white dress drenched in blood. They embrace each other in bone-chilling fear, then proceed to close their eyes in fear as the Ju-on closes in, making a droning croaking sound. Then, silence. They slowly open their eyes, and see Kali standing over them, wiping the blood dripping from her left nostril. The Yakuza stand back in silence and fear.)

KALI: Now that I have your attention. I’m the last of my crew, running from enemies, struggling to survive one day after another, trying to find my purpose. In a nutshell,…

(Sniffles)

I have no where else to go.

(Koji and Kyoji later meet up in the upstairs office to decide Kali’s fate.)

KYOJI: (Japanese) Father, you’re not seriously considering taking her in.

KOJI: (Japanese) I am beginning to, yes. You’ve seen what she can do. She can make us see things, things that we fear most, what our enemies fear most.

KYOJI: (Japanese) So, you mean to recruit her into the Yakuza.

KOJI: (Japanese) Yes. We will send her to Yuki and her ninja crew to be initiated and trained.

(Outside the office, Kali is enjoying herself an assortment of sushi. Suddenly, the office door opens with Koji approaching her.)

KOJI: (English) We shall let you stay. In the morning, my associate will meet with you and take you to our ninja camp.

(Kali’s eyes widen with interest.)

There, your training shall proceed.

(The next morning, Kali awakes from her make-shift bed in one of the cubicles in the restaurant. She is then met a 18 year old Japanese girl standing before her. She’s wearing a Duran Duran RIO t-shirt with black leather pants and red Converse sneakers draped over a black business coat with a glass pink lotus pin on her right lapel. Her hair sports a Bob style with Auburn highlights.)

KALI: (yawning) So, you must be the associate.

GIRL: You are correct, Kali-san, is it?

(Kali nods in affirmation)

Good, I am Yuki, my father owns this restaurant.

KALI: Daughter?

YUKI: Correct again, I bring breakfast, eat up then you come with me.

(After breakfast, Yuki boards Kali into her red Ferrari down the Little Tokyo strip. They reach their destination, A 2 story gentlemen’s club by the name of THE PINK LOTUS.)

KALI: This, is the ninja camp?

YUKI: Well, are you coming?

(Kali proceeds to follow Yuki inside the club. Inside the pink atmosphere, spotlights shine on a black runway lined up with chairs, with a boxed end with a gold stripper pole, the stage is decorated with a giant pink lotus flower. There are two bars, one on each side of the runway; one for alcoholic consumption, and the other is the DJ booth. The strippers consist of not just Japanese women, but women of black, white, and Spanish minorities; all toned and in shape, sporting sweats and gymwear.)

So, what do you think?

KALI: I think there is some kind of mistake. Your dad told me I’d be taken to some ninja camp,…

(The strippers around her giggle at her assumption.)

…and from what I see is a bloody strip joint. Not that I have against what a woman does to get attention, but I was serious when I told your father about wanting…

(As Kali was making her statement, Yuki unexpectedly threw a hidden shuriken at her. Fortunately for Kali, her precognitive senses saw it coming and she ducked the shuriken, having it land on a painting of Kabuki woman, right at the neck. Yuki was surprised at her reflex, but Kali wasn’t gonna let that fly.)

…purpose.

(Kali then proceeded to conjure an illusion of the walls bleeding blood, causing the bartender, and the strippers to huddle up on the runway. Yuki, on the other hand, remains perfectly calm and still as the blood formed around her feet. Kali notices that Yuki expected her using her abilities.)

YUKI: Hmm, father told me about your “gifts”. I believe you’ll make an excellent addition to our clan. Follow me upstairs, please.

(Kali follows Yuki to the second floor, which appears to be living quarters comprised of footons and assorted wardrobe.)

The club is a front for our splinter faction of my father’s Yakuza clan, the Pink Lotus Ninja clan. Our group consists of not only my fellow countrywomen, but women of other nationalities to spread our influence across the planet.

KALI: Interesting.

(The other girls gather around Kali and Yuki. The girls stick their right hands showcasing a lotus brand in their palms. Yuki takes a Japanese Rising Sun Zippo Lighter and takes it to her lotus ring on her right middle finger.)

YUKI: The lotus brand is an eternal symbol of respect and loyalty, two aspects that are sacred in our organization. To receive this is to be a part of something greater than yourself.

(Yuki then extends her right hand, showcasing her brand in her palm. She gestures her fingers to Kali, asking for her right hand. Kali begins to jet it out.)

Know this, once you take this step, there is no turning back from this. You will be a part of this crew forever until the day you leave this world. Do you understand?

KALI: I do.

(Yuki takes Kali’s right hand and drives the scalding lotus ring into Kali’s palm. As the brand seers into her skin, Kali slightly winces as Yuki is somewhat surprised that Kali is no stranger to pain. Yuki then removes the ring from Kali’s hand, Kali looks down at the lotus brand seered into her hand, then looks up to Yuki.)

YUKI: Welcome to the Pink Lotus Ninja clan, sister.

(As THE WARRIOR by Scandal plays in the background, we cut to a vacant warehouse outside Los Angeles. The inside consists of ninja recruits navigating an archaic obstacle course, training in several combat circles and a weapons rack which consists of shurikens, kunais, bows and quiver of arrows, nunchakus, sais and of course katana swords. Throughout the fall and winter, Yuki puts Kali through a rigorous training regiment of common practices and traditions, physical training, stealth training, target practice, meditation cycles, theatricality and deception tutorial, hand-to-hand combat and swordplay. As Kali starts off slow, she spends her spare time getting a tribute tattoo from one of the girls, which consists of the 6 masks worn by herself, her friends and Eleven/Jane. As the Eleven/Jane’s mask is being drawn, she volunteers in dancing in the club, with Koji, Kyoji and Yuki watching in fascination. As Dottie’s mask is drawn, she learns Japanese from Yuki. As Mickie’s mask is drawn, she decides to teach herself the Russian language with a Russian Translation Book, just in case. As Axel’s mask is drawn, she’s seen eating and gossiping with the rest of the girls. As Funshine’s mask is drawn, her ninjutsu skills steadily improve which concludes with a sword duel between her and Yuki. Both blades clash, swear starts pouring; in the end, Kali ends up getting the upper hand, which ends with a deflection and a blade at the neck. The girls witness in awe as Kali and Yuki bow to each other, up top the balconies, Koji looks on with pride. With that, Kali’s mask is drawn on. April 1985, we cut to a local bathhouse in Little Tokyo, Kali is in a wide hot bath all alone with her bathrobe beside her on the edge of the bath. She looks at her tribute tattoo along her right forearm, she draws her left index finger down from her mask near her elbow joint to El/Jane’s mask near her wrist. She tilts her head in melancholy, stroking it gently, projecting a rainbow winged butterfly in her right hand. Her eyes suddenly move to the left, her arms lower underwater, she suddenly jerks to the left, shuriken in her left hand, ready for anything. Instead, Yuki standing in a bathrobe of her own, surprised and impressed by Kali’s reaction.)

YUKI: (Japanese) Your skill is progressing faster than anticipated, Kali-san.

(Yuki walks toward her bath.)

Are shurikens the only weapons you brought with you to your bath?

KALI: (Japanese) My mind is the ultimate weapon I carry.

YUKI: (Japanese) That it is, Kali-san. Do you mind if I join you?

KALI: (Japanese) By all means, headmistress.

YUKI: (Japanese, looks down than to her) Do you mind?

(Kali then proceeds to close her eyes, as Yuki disrobes. Every bit of her naked, slim body slips into the hot bath, wetting her hair in the process, and letting off a relieving sigh.)

Open.

(Kali opens her eyes.)

I see Emiko has done excellent work on your tattoo. If you don’t mind my asking, may I inquire what it represents to you?

KALI: (Japanese) Each mask represents me and my former crew.

(Kali runs her finger from her mask to El/Jane’s mask.)

There’s me. Funshine. Axel. Mickie. Dottie. And this… this is Jane. My… (sniffle) my sister. All of them dead, except her.

(Yuki swims over to Kali to comfort her.)

YUKI: (Japanese) What was she like?

KALI: (Japanese) We were born and grew up in the same government lab together. Whereas I project visions, Jane could move things with her mind. When she came looking for me in Chicago, I was so grateful. I felt complete again. I started training to better use her powers through anger. Then I took her with me on my crusade of vengeance against the people who made us.

YUKI: What happened to her?

KALI: The police bum-rushed our hideout.

(We shown of a flashback of Kali and El/Jane’s last moment together.)

Instead of running away with us, Jane took it upon herself to leave, she said that her friends were in danger. I thought because we were the same, she’d understand what I wanted for us a family. But wherever her friends and her policeman protector were, she wanted to be there.

YUKI: (Japanese) I’m sure she had her reasons. You’ve obviously found yours.

KALI: (Japanese) Before Funshine died to give me time to escape here, he told me that one day, Jane and I would one day need each other. Now, after all this, I’m not sure I wanna go to her.

YUKI: (Japanese) Only you can decide when to go to her. It doesn’t have to be now, but someday.

(The girls share a hug.)

KALI: (Japanese) You didn’t come all the way down for a bath and a conversation?

YUKI: (Japanese, chuckles) Indeed, you are perceptive, Kali-san. We are called on a mission in the following months, apparently Father and Kyoji have set up a business meeting with a foreign party at the restaurant. Consider this your initiation, we certainly hope you are ready.

KALI: (Japanese) You can count on me, headmistress.

YUKI: (Japanese) Good.

(Yuki leaps out of the bath, puts on her robe, and leaves the bathhouse.)

KALI: (Japanese) This foreign party, where are they from?

YUKI: (Japanese) Russia.

(A look of great concern befalls Kali’s face as Yuki leaves, could Ivan Perdovski and the Russians have found her after all this time? June 28, 1985. The Pink Lotus Ninja clan hide in the night upon rooftops, surrounding the THE GOLDEN KOI as they wait for the meeting to go down. Each of the ninjas are clad in black, armed with a katana along with an assortment of ninja weapons. They wear black long sleeve gi tops with pink linings and a black hood. Their faces covered with a sock masks, their eyes surrounded in black smudge. Black fingerless gloves encumbers their hands. Their legs covered with nylon leggings with garderbelts carrying either shurikens and kunais. Their feet bear black socks and black sneakers, but for Kali, she preferred purple Converses.)

YUKI: (Japanese) Tonight is your night, Kali-san.

KALI: (Japanese) I understand.

(Yuki looks down to Kali’s footwear.)

YUKI: (Japanese) Purples Converses? A ninja is known for discretion.

KALI: (Japanese)Being I’m the special case here, my powers make me discreet.

YUKI: (Japanese) For your sake, Kali-san, I hope so.

(Kali then spots a black Mercedes-Benz pulling up to the restaurant.)

KALI: (Japanese, points to car) Black Benzo pulling up.

(Yuki grabs a near CB communicator to call his father.)

YUKI: (Japanese) Father, they’re here.

KOJI: (Japanese) Understood. Hold your positions until further notice. I’ll keep the channel open.

YUKI: (Japanese) Understood, be careful.

(Yuki signals her group to hold their positions. A figure steps out of the backseat of the car, it is Special Agent Ivan Perdovski. He’s been on the search for Kali since the events of Milwaukee, now he sports a big burn scar along the left side of his face from Funshine’s claymore surprise. A look of dread overtakes Kali’s face.)

YUKI: (Japanese) You alright, Kali-san?

KALI: (Japanese) Fine, Yuki, just fine.

(Perdovski walks into the restaurant, ride up to the receptionist.)

IVAN: Perdovski, party for three.

(Receptionist motions them to the office upstairs. Perdovski walks up the stairs to the Koji’s office, where Koji and Kyoji await him.)

KOJI: Perdovski-sama, on behalf of my family, I bid you welcome.

IVAN: Spasibo, comrade Yashida, thank you.

KOJI: Drink?

IVAN: Stolichnaya, if you can manage.

(Koji preps two glasses with ice. Fills one with Suntory whiskey, the other with Stolichnaya vodka. Koji hands him his drink.)

Spasibo, or in your case, arigato.

KOJI: (chuckles) Of course. So, to what do I own the honor of this visit?

IVAN: Perhaps you can help with this problem I have. I’ve been looking for a certain individual for the past 6 months. A 15 year old girl, British Hindu descent , with violent tendencies and the ability to project visions with her mind.

(Yuki looks to Kali with content, while Kali focuses on the conversation in the restaurant.)

KOJI: (sips his drink) This is the first I’ve heard of this.

IVAN: (sips his drink) I’ve been following her trail since Pittsburgh, to Chicago then to Milwaukee. She has caused the deaths of several of my fellow comrades. Ever since then, I’ve been combing the entire country for her. After speaking to several eyewitnesses in Los Angeles, I was hoping you be the latter.

(Yuki sees an army truck, a platoon of Spetnaz commandos disembark and surround the restaurant. Then draws her blade to Kali’s throat, demanding answers.)

YUKI: (Japanese) If you have something to say, Kali-san, say it right now.

KALI: (Japanese) They’re not after you, they’re after me. They killed my friends, all just so they can use me for my gifts. If you want to save your family, I’m your only hope.

KOJI: (sips his drink) I don’t know what you plan to gain from this meeting, but I can assure there has been no sign of this girl here or in Little Tokyo for that matter. You can ask everyone that works for me, even in my own family, they practically keeps to themselves.

IVAN: (chuckles, sips his drink) That’s funny, because your son told me that she is working for you a week before the meeting was established.

(Koji turns to Kyoji with a stern look on his face.)

KOJI: (Japanese) Kyoji, what have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?!

KYOJI: (Japanese) I told you it was a mistake keeping her here. He overheard me talking to the guys a week ago. He swore that he would spare us, as long as we give him the girl.

KOJI: (Japanese) You have put us all in danger, Kyoji-san!!

KYOJI: (Japanese) You’re the one who damned us all by bringing this psycho bitch…

(Irritated by this family squabble, Ivan pulls out his Marakov pistol and puts a round into Kyoji’s head.)

KOJI: (Japanese) KYOJI!!!!!

(Yuki is shaken with devastation at the lost of her brother, Kali is lit up with focused anger. Inside the restaurant, the patrons vacate their tables in panic and leave. Ivan notices the commotion downstairs, then grabs his walkie-talkie.)

IVAN: (Russian) Let the civilians go.

(Ivan then downs his drink, as Koji looks in distraught at the headshot corpse of his dead son.)

(English) My sincere apologies, comrade. But your son has served his purpose for Mother Russia. Unless you wish to join him, tell me where the girl is.

KOJI: You will die for this dishonor.

IVAN: Spare me your bullshit. I have a squad of Spetnaz commandos surrounding your establishment. I will get my answers, even if I have to squeeze it out of your comrades.

(Ivan grabs his walkie-talkie.)

(Russian) Spetnaz, move in and incarcerate.

(Ivan van hears screams, gunshots and metal slicing.)

Spetnaz, report. Respond.

(Kali picks up a walkie-talkie off one of the commandos.)

ANSWER ME!!!

KALI: (Russian) Your boys are dead, asshole, and you’re next.

IVAN: (Russian) WHO ARE YOU?

KALI: (Russian) The Goddess of Death.

(Ivan looks to the walkie-talkie in fear.)

KOJI: You afraid, comrade? You should be.

(Ivan points his gun to Koji.)

IVAN: WHERE IN THE FUCK IS SHE!?!

(The lights flicker then go out, the lights become black lights. Ivan looks around the office, Koji looks at him calmly, knowing Kali’s wonders are in action. Ivan, on the other hand, begins to see a figure emerge from behind Koji’s chair. The figure appears to be Funshine, his body half-burned and his mask his half-melted. Ivan looks in horror, not believing what he’s seeing. He bursts out of the office, and runs into Axel with his mask on, but has an entry and exit wound on opposite sides of his head, blood pour from the wounds. Ivan proceeds downstairs to find the front door boarded up. He turns around to find two undead girls by the stairs. One of them is Dottie with her mask on, with her throat slit open, blood pouring from her wound. The other is Mickie, also with her mask on, with a bullet wound wide in the middle of the forehead, also with blood dripping from the wound. Ivan panics looking everywhere, Axel and Funshine join in as the specters close in, Ivan readies his gun eager to shoot.)

IVAN: (Russian) You’re dead. I FUCKING KILLED ALL OF YOU!! YOU’RE ALL FUCKING DEAD!!!

KALI: (Russian, behind his back) So are you, comrade.

(Ivan’s eyes look to the left. Suddenly, both of his Achilles tendons are sliced off, Ivan gasps in pain as he falls to his knees. He tries to raise his gun while steadying himself with his left hand. Until, his gun hand gets lopped off, flying a few feet away from him, again he gasps in pain. He crawls slowly toward his gun, as soon as he nears it, his left hand is stabbed to the floor with a katana, cutting edge towards him so he cut his way out. Ivan lets out a painful scream that can be heard throughout the restaurant. He looks up to see a masked Kali standing before him. She kneels down for eye-to-eye level.)

(Russian) So tell me, how does it feel to be on the other side of the spectrum,…

(She then removes her mask, revealing her face, along with a bloody nose, pass her lips.)

…Ivan.

(She wipes the blood off under the nose with her left thumb, licking the rest of it off with her tongue. As she sucks the excess blood off her thumb, Ivan lets off a weak chuckle.)

IVAN: (chuckles, Russian) Ah, the Goddess of Death herself. I see you’ve been busy these past 6 months. You hide within the bowels of the Yakuza, learn their ways, you even learn my native tongue in the process. Needless to say, I can’t help but be proud of you.

(As Ivan continues to chuckle. Koji hands her the bottle of vodka, then Kali pours the vodka down the blade of the katana, making the wound burn. Ivan screams as the wound burns, Kali then takes the bottle and takes a swig of vodka, she lets out a heavy sigh.)

KALI: (Russian) Whoo. It’s better with ice, don’t you agree?

IVAN: Da!!

(Kali then throws the bottle aside, shattering on impact.)

KALI: (English) Now, as much as I love to continue this coffee session here, there are some questions that I never got to ask you back in Milwaukee. For instance, why are you after me, specifically? Are you like those Yank government fuckers who want to use me as a weapon?

(Ivan spits at Kali’s feet in defiance.)

IVAN: (Russian) Like we ever wanted you to begin with. Besides, you kids today can never see the bigger picture. In short…

(Ivan leans forward.)

(English) FUCK… YOU!!

(Kali proceeds to laughing her head off at Ivan’s petty courage.)

KALI: You know, I was praying you’d say that, because I got something special planned for you.

(Japanese) Yuki-san, can you bring me a Ginzu knife, please?

(Yuki walks to the kitchen to grab a Ginzu knife.)

And do make sure it’s sharpened.

(Ivan looks toward Yuki, then look back to Kali.)

Are you aware of the Yakuza method of Yubitsume, or “finger shortening” to the layman. Interesting, this practice. The way it goes, should a member commit an offense against his clan, he is subjected to lop off a section of his finger then present to your leader, starting with your pinkie finger on your left land. Anymore offenses from there on in, said individual proceeds to lop off the rest of the finger, then proceed to the next finger to the right.

(Yuki walks to Kali, sharpening the Ginzu knife with a sharpening rod.)

But in your case, I’m going to lop off a whole finger for each of my mates you’ve slain in Milwaukee. You a patriot, Ivan?

(Ivan nods in affirmation.)

As am I. But since you’re from Russia, and I’m British, I thought we can sing an American classic, in light of the upcoming 4th of July. America The Beautiful, you know that one, right?

(Ivan again nods in affirmation.)

Let’s sing together, shall we?

(Kali readies the knife on Ivan’s left pinkie finger, as she prepares to sing.)

Oh beautiful for spacious skies…

(Kali lops off the pinkie, Ivan grunts in pain, a flashback of Mickie’s death is shown.)

For amber waves of grain…

(Kali lops off the ringer, Ivan’s painful grunt intensifies, a flashback of Dottie’s death is shown.)

Come along, Ivan. I know you know the words, now SING!

IVAN: (quivering) For purple mountain majesty…

(Kali proceeds to sever off the middle finger, Ivan yelps in pain, a flashback of Axel’s death is shown.)

KALI: Come on.

IVAN: Above the fruited plain…

(Ivan’s index finger is then lopped off, Ivan then screams, a flashback of Funshine’s death is shown. Ivan then begins to cry uncontrollably, snot dripping from his nose, knowing he’s about to die a grisly death.)

Alright, ALRIGHT!!

(Kali then takes the knife to Ivan’s chin, letting him know she means business.)

KALI: I’m all ears.

IVAN: (deep sigh) Two years ago, we’ve learn that the Americans have found a new way to gather intelligence on us. Psychic Warfare, they called it. In the late 60s, they used mind-expanding drugs on women to endow them with psychic powers, so that their children will inherit those powers, to become the new weapons of the Cold War.

(Kali remembers the early memories of herself and El/Jane.)

They reveled in their early success, that is until, they’ve made an unknown discovery. A parallel dimension, a shadowy reflection of our world, populated by monsters.

(Flashbacks of the Demogorgon, Demo-Dogs and the Mind Flayer.)

It unfortunately became their downfall. A year later, we tried to open that very same door on our native soil. But instead of using psychically endowed children, we used the miracle of technology of Mother Russia to tear open a door into that dimension. But alas, there were setbacks.

(Flashbacks of the first attempt to open the door to the Upside Down.)

The dimensional wall on our side of the planet was too strong to penetrate. Fortunately for us, the dimensional wall on the American side of the planet was still weak, still healing from the wound it sustained from the Americans’ folly. So, we moved our resources to America, established our secret headquarters, hid it in plain sight in the guise of a bazaar, or as you say it, a “mall”.

KALI: Right. So where in this country is this secret headquarters?

IVAN: (laughs weakly) It doesn’t matter, child. Things are set in motion in which you cannot stop.

(Kali leans forward with the sword, coming to an inch or two to Ivan’s face.)

KALI: Where… in America… is your secret… headquarters?

IVAN: (sigh) If I tell you, you will make it quick?

KALI: (smiles) You have my word.

IVAN: H-Hawkins. Hawkins, Indiana. That is truth, I swear.

(Kali takes the knife off Ivan’s chin. She then continues to sing, increasing in volume.)

America, America, God shed his grace of THEE…

(Ivan breathes steadily, as her volume increases.)

AND CROWN THY GOOD WITH BROTHERHOOD TO SEA TO SHINY SEA!!!!

(Kali then removes her sword from the ground, spins with a horizontal stroke that takes Ivan’s head right off. Sending it flying into the air, flipping backwards. As it descends, Kali flicks the residual blood off her sword, sheathes it, spins back around to catch the head. She then stands, turns 180°, walks to Koji, lowers to her knees and presents Ivan’s severed head to his feet as she bows her head. Koji extends his hand, touching thee top of her head in gratitude.)

KOJI: (Japanese) Well done, my child. Men, dispose of the bodies

(Later that night, a trail of clothes and weapons lead to Kali laying in a well-deserved hot bath in the dark with nothing but the moon and the stars to be her light. Her ears completely submerged in the water to drown out the noise. Her eyes close only for a moment, wondering what El/Jane is doing at this very moment. Her eyes open suddenly to darkness. She found herself into The Void, she jolts up, grabbing the edge of her pool. The camera looks to her back as her naked body leaps out of the bath. She starts to hear I CAN’T FIGHT THIS FEELING ANYMORE by REO Speedwagon, then picks up a nearby bathrobe she conjured out of nothing, donning it and tying the sash. She walks to the music, fixing her hair as she does. As the guitar solo kicks in, a turquoise wooden door appears before her, beside it she sees El/Jane’s policeman protector, Chief Jim Hopper.)

HOPPER: (knocks on post of door) Hey.

EL: Yes?

HOPPER: Can I talk you guys a minute?

(El telekinetically opens the door for Hopper to enter, he sees El sitting on the bed with Mike Wheeler.)

Hi.

EL & MIKE: Hi.

(Hopper makes his way into El’s room with Kali following in with him, about to observe what’s going on. Hopper pulls up a chair, and turns off the radio to give a pep-talk to the young couple. Kali sits by the dresser drawer, watching Hopper struggling to give the pep-talk that Joyce Byers was prepping him to deliver. Kali watches with a hint of warmth, while Mike quietly berates him in front of El, which she laughs at, causing Kali rolls her eyes at him.)

KALI: What a prick.

HOPPER: You know what? Your mom called.

MIKE: What?

HOPPER: Yeah. She needs you home right away.

MIKE: Is everything okay?

HOPPER: No, I don’t think so. It’s your Grandma.

(Mike and Hopper race to the Police Truck, with Kali readying to follow them. But first, she looks to her sister.)

KALI: Pardon me, Jane. I actually want to see this.

(Kali follows the guys to the truck with Mike asking Hopper anxiously what’s wrong with “Nana”, until…)

HOPPER: NOTHING!! THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH NANA!!!

MIKE: What?

1 note · View note

owlways-and-forever · 8 years ago

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Author’s Note: Okay guys, so this is probably like, my favourite chapter, honestly I've been waiting to write this one pretty much since I came up with the idea for this story. So I really hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. As always, don't forget to feed the author with a smattering of reviews, and I'll see you next week! Enjoy! Summary: Killian was the star of the basketball team, until an injury dramatically alters things for him. Emma is a talented usher and a very enthusiastic fan. Will Killian find Emma’s exuberant cheering endearing, or will she get lost in the sea of fans? Word Count: 2300 (10,300) Links: ao3, ff.net, [tumblr] prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4

Chapter Five - The Dance

Two Weeks Later

In the month since he had given her a ride to the game, Emma had been unable to get Neal out of her head. Something about him seemed very genuine, and she found herself imagining things she had no business thinking about. She found herself coming up with excuses on game days to see him more – just about any errand that needed running or any issue that needed dealing with, Emma volunteered to handle it. She became their right hand man, rather unintentionally, and it earned the respect of her peers as well, though she might lose it if they discovered the true motive for her dedication. And the way he looked at her sometimes, she thought that he might just feel the same way.

Emma, much to the surprise of the others, was the one who convinced Ruby and Mary Margaret that they should go to the grad student formal. They teased her and asked her why she was so keen on going, but Emma said only that she thought it would be a fun night. She didn't tell them about the visions of her in a beautiful gown catching Neal's eye, and him deciding that she was suddenly irresistible, or, well, any other part of the dream that had been plaguing her for the last week and a half.

On the night of the formal, Ruby and Mary Margaret joined Emma at her apartment for pizza and Netflix before they started getting ready for the night. It was far from the ball gown in Emma's dreams, but they cleaned up pretty good. She had wanted to go for a tight red dress, but Mary Margaret had called it a hooker dress and insisted that formals were for looking beautiful, not hot. Ruby had rolled her eyes at this and shrugged into a strappy, silk black sheath dress that had looked a bit like a trash bag on the hanger, but somehow looked impossibly good on her. Mary Margaret had white frock with silver embroidery and little crystals, which she paired with a pair of practical white ballet flats. Deep in the back of her closet, Emma found a pale pink dress made from some kind of shimmery fabric that made Mary Margaret gasp in delight. She stepped into it and Ruby obligingly zipped it for her. As she walked around, the skirt seemed to float effortlessly around her, and Emma felt a little bit like the fairy princess that she very much was not. It was a bit of a welcome break from her usual tough exterior, even if it did make her feel a touch uncomfortable.

They downed a few shots as they waited for their Uber to arrive, and then the three of them squeezed into the back, giggling happily. The venue was beautiful, lights and balloons and streamers in the school colors lining every wall, and there were already people dancing when they got there. Ruby made a beeline for the bar, all three of them cashing in the first of their drink tickets for another dose of liquid courage.

"So, who are you aiming to take home tonight?" Emma asked Ruby as they gathered around one of the high tables spread about the room.

"Hmm, I'm not sure," Ruby laughed, glancing around the room. "The business school boys are quite fine, but then they're so full of themselves. Of course there's always the law school ladies…"

Mary Margaret pretended to be scandalized, as always, by Ruby's willingness to go home with anyone, though they all knew it was a ruse. Mary Margaret was not nearly as judgmental and conservative as people thought, and she and Emma both knew that Ruby's promiscuity was the result of her previous trauma. When she was an undergraduate, her long-term boyfriend had been killed in a car accident, and Ruby had blamed herself, though Emma personally thought she couldn't be less responsible. The loss had crushed her, and she'd been spending the years since avoiding all semblance of romantic attachment.

"I take it you're still looking for your Prince Charming?" Ruby teased Mary Margaret, who blushed brightly.

"I just don't see the point in wasting time with anyone who isn't The One," Mary Margaret replied.

"But how can you know if they're The One unless you spend time with them," Emma challenged lightly.

"I just… I just will," Mary Margaret answered, puffing up a bit. "When it's true love, you just know."

Emma was about to roll her eyes, but something in the corner of the room caught her attention, and she focused on it, only to find Neal walking in, Tamara laughing lightly by his side.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret called, noticing her friend's lapse in attention.

"Look who it is," Ruby purred, looking like the cat that caught the canary, "Emma's true love."

"I highly doubt that," Emma countered, "since true love doesn't really exist and all."

"Maybe, but I bet he'd be a damn good lay anyway," Ruby taunted, and it was Emma's turn to blush.

"I'm not interested," she lied quickly, but both of her friends scoffed loudly.

"Then why can't you take your eyes off him?" Ruby said, as if that statement were the end of it, her hands coming to rest on her hips.

"Oh Emma, you should go talk to him!" Mary Margaret gushed, smiling an earnest, naïve smile.

"He seems a bit preoccupied," Emma spat out, her eyes flicking over to Tamara.

"I highly doubt he'd mind if you pulled him away from that witch," Ruby commented, downing the rest of her drink. "Come on, let's get another, maybe then Emma will feel brave enough to take Neal home."

They returned to the bar and cashed in a second round of drink tickets, and as they walked back toward the dance floor, Emma saw Tamara and Neal, the former watching her with hawk-like eyes. As soon as Tamara saw Emma look their way, a sickly sweet smile made its way across her face, and she looked up at Neal adoringly, pulling his lips down to meet hers. He responded enthusiastically, his hands on her waist pulling her closer to him, and Tamara's hands locked at the nape of his neck. For a brief moment, Emma saw Tamara eyes open and meet her own, and she knew immediately that this had been a message for her. Back off. Not yours. She read it loud and clear, like a bullet to the gut, and she felt bile welling up in the back of her throat, just as tears started to prick her eyes.

"I'll be right back," Emma said, thrusting her drink toward Mary Margaret. She needed to get away, needed air to breathe, space.

"Emma, are you…?" Ruby started, and then her eyes flicked past Emma and she saw the embracing lovebirds. "Son of a bitch!"

She looked ready to go punch one or both of them, but Emma grabbed her arm to stop her.

"It's fine, Ruby, really, I don't care," Emma said, hoping she was lying more convincingly this time than she had before.

"That's not what your face says," Ruby challenged, but her eyes had softened a bit, and she looked more like she wanted to hug Emma.

"I just have to pee," Emma argued, "I broke the seal back at the house. I promise, I'll be right back."

Mary Margaret and Ruby both looked skeptical, but they nodded, letting her go. As Emma stumbled toward the doorway, she wasn't sure if her friends had actually believed her (she doubted it) or if they just knew that she needed a moment to collect herself. It wasn't the world's best kept secret that Emma didn't like breaking down in front of other people, even her best friends. She pushed the heavy door open and stepped out into the cold, February air, gulping down deep breaths. Tears began to fall in earnest, and Emma didn't try to hold them back, there was no one there to see her as she sobbed.

At least, she thought there was no one there.

After a moment, someone, a distinctly male someone, cleared their throat lightly, and Emma felt them take a few steps closer to where she had collapsed onto the stairs. She tried to take steadying breaths, but it was hard, and the tears seemed determined to come whether she wanted them to or not.

"Are you alright?" the man who had approached her asked, and Emma's heart stopped when she heard his voice, she would know it anywhere.

Slowly, Emma pulled her hands away from her face and looked up form her lap, finding herself staring into the impossibly blue eyes of Killian Jones.

"Love, are you okay?" he repeated, his voice laced with concern, and Emma almost believed that it was genuine.

"I'm fine," she answered, trying to pretend that there weren't tear tracks staining her face.

"You're not," he persisted, and he sat down next to her, though she noticed that he was careful to keep a respectful distance.

"If you know everything then why'd you ask?" Emma snapped.

"It's polite," Killian said quietly. "Besides, nothing says 'my world is crumbling' quite like the words 'I'm fine'."

"Why do you care?" she asked, skeptical.

"I suppose I would hate to think that someone had upset the woman who has gone to such lengths to make sure I feel at home and supported," he replied, avoiding eye contact by looking up at the stars peppering the sky.

"You remember that," she stated, somewhat surprised.

"I wasn't the one downing rum like a bloody pirate," Killian responded with a light chuckle.

"What are you even doing out here?" Emma challenged, changing the topic aggressively.

"Hiding," he answered simply, and Emma narrowed her eyes at him.

"From what? Stalker groupie?" she hissed, and her tone sounded accusatory even to her own ears.

"Ah, no," Killian squirmed, his hand reflexively moving to scratch behind his ear. "There's a lot of alcohol in there."

"So?"

"So, as a borderline alcoholic, it is unwise for me to be in… tempting scenarios," he continued, his fingers scratching a little more intensely, and Emma wouldn't have been surprised if he drew blood.

"But you were at the bar," Emma burst out insensitively before she could stop herself.

"Aye, but David was there with me," Killian explained. "It's easier to stick to soda when you have an understanding friend with you."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know…" Emma began, but she trailed off, not really knowing what else she could say.

"Most people don't," he remarked, in an oddly detached way. "It's a story that's been carefully kept secret. Not… not to deceive anyone. Coach just wanted to protect me. It was a difficult time, he didn't want anyone making it any more difficult."

Emma stayed quiet, not knowing what she could say to that. She believed him, that it wasn't meant to deceive anyone. It seemed important to him that she knew that, and for reasons she couldn't quite explain, it was important to her too. She could feel his eyes burning through her skull as she considered what to say next.

"There's this guy," she started, feeling silly as she went on. "I thought he liked me, but then, it's so trivial in comparison, and he's with this girl, and it wouldn't be so bad if it were someone else, but this girl is just such a bitch…"

"You really like this guy?" Killian asked, and perhaps if she had been less focused on Neal, she wouldn't have missed the disappointment that flashed across his features.

"No, I mean, yeah, I guess a little," Emma sighed, struggling to figure out her emotions. "It just would have been nice to be wanted, to have someone again."

"May I give you a hug?" he inquired, one eyebrow raised, his arms already held out wide.

Emma considered the offer. It wasn't that she didn't want him to touch her, it was just that she didn't really do hugs, never really had. And yet, she almost wanted to. She needed some kind of sign.

"On one condition," she answered, and his eyebrow cocked even more. "Guess my name."

It was an impossible task, they both knew it. It was her own self-sabotaging way, setting him a task he could never accomplish so that when he failed it would be the sign she needed to not do what she wanted, to avoid being brave. Killian visibly balked when she said it, but a second later, his face had turned into a mask of determination, and he studied her face carefully, leaning in slightly so he could see every detail.

"Emma," he said, somewhere in between a statement and a question, his voice low, like he was surprised that that was the name that had bubbled to the surface.

Something inside Emma warmed considerably, and she felt as though a ball of tension had released itself. She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, and she wound her arms around his waist. It took him a second to respond, but then he wrapped his arms around her, the muscles tightening against her skin. It was easily the most comfortable hug she'd ever had, and they both seemed content to stay that way. After a few minutes, Killian rested his chin on the top of Emma's head, and she let out a long breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding in. More minutes passed, and still neither of them moved, entirely content, until Emma felt a slightly different type of tension pull at her insides. Doing her best to suppress her desires, Emma pushed away from Killian and stood, holding her hand out to him.

"Come on, I'll be your David tonight," she said, and Killian took her hand with a strangely affected look on his face, as though nobody had ever said anything more perfect.

#cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #cs au #buzzer beater #gen writes

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