#shiny ass bald head king

[captn-trex]

can I offer you some blushy rex?

my knowledge of how shadows work is... nonexistent. so pls ignore that hehe

@lonewolflupe another one <3

[niko-aspin]

For the (not so) "curel" king...

Whats under the damn crown?!

The ice dagger?

The voices within your mind?

A naughty or nice list of each of your individuals knights? (Santa Claus lookin ass lol)

YOUR SHINY BALD HEAD? THAT REFLECTS LIKE A MIRROR?!

*i say as i shove my microphone up to CKs face.*

• guessed right.

[saltminerising]

i love met/al/soap so much i want my dragons to be as shiny as king neptunes bald ass head!!!

Bald

[cosmere-cosmeme]

Cosmere Cards Against Humanity

With black cards like -"szeth son son vallano wore ___ on the day he was to kill a king"

-"Only ___ is worse than Amaram"

-"the manywar took a turn for the bloodier when the five scholars discovered ____"

-"___ fell from the sky"

-"Did you know that there's an entire type of spren for __"

-"Few people know the fate of Hoid's flute, which is actually now ___ "

-"Oh my god, I just found out my spren saw ____!"

-"__ cured Kaladin's depression"

-"You cannot have my __!"

- “Axies is saying he found _____spren”

And white cards like

-"cremlings?"

- "A cool rock"

-"Nale's nuts"

-"The entire kholin clan"

-"safehand" 

-"sharddildo" 

-"the shard of horny" 

-"the seventeenth shard" 

-"hoid" 

-"dalinar's ass" 

-"the seventeenth allomantic metal, mercury" 

-"fuckspren" 

-"szeth's shiny bald head" 

-"a soul stamp that makes your dick smaller"

- “jasnah’s shardstrap”

feel free to add your own in reblogs/tags/replies!

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Part 10

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt 71 “Dont be stubborn. Try it.”

Word Count: 1890

Pairing: Liam and Riley

Thanks @burnsoslow​ for beta reading and pretty much having to drag me across the finish line, as well as all the weeks and weeks of listening to me whine and pity myself.  And @emkay512​ for pre-reading and your encouraging words late Monday that made my whole night.

a/n: this is crack, plain and simple. I haven’t written since mid-october; just been paralyzed with fear over my own writing and this is my practice run and basically the best I could come up with. I’m going to try so so hard to finish this series

The new royal couple, fresh off their Vegas flight, stepped up to a makeshift podium the press had created on the tarmac. It was packed tightly with news station microphones crammed in every nook and cranny, one on top of the other. Voice recorders were spread across its surface, and the crown's private jet served as the backdrop. A bevy of frenzied reporters -- domestic and international -- pushed and elbowed their way into one another in hopes of getting the closest shot of the newlyweds and a chance to have their questions answered first.

“King Liam! Is the marriage binding?”

“How long have you known, Miss Brooks?”

“Were you trying to make a political statement by having a hooker at the ceremony?”

“Your Majesty! Will the monkey be joining your court soon?”

So many questions, most followed by laughter and snickers directed at the King and his bride.

Liam frowned as his eyes dashed side to side in a diligent effort to understand the literally thousands of questions that were lobbed at him all at once. He blinked rapidly as one flash of a camera after the next blinded and bleached his vision. Just as it would return to normal, another successive set of flashes would set him back again.

He had been a part of news conferences since he was a child, when he would watch his late father speak from different parts of the world, near and far, about this policy or that deal. Yet this was different. This was not only the biggest breaking story in Cordonia -- or even Europe -- but one that had swept the world. 

His drunken actions two nights ago, no doubt, would have created a stir; however, it was Maxwell's post on Instagram of the ceremony that now made him tabloid fodder. Everyone knew about the king who was married by his own brother and an Elvis impersonator, the leg-humping monkey that served as a ring bearer, and the chain-smoking, tube-top-wearing prostitute who was the maid of honor. As confident as Liam had been that he could handle this, as he'd dealt with so many other stories of intrigue regarding the monarchy, he couldn't dispel the twisting feeling that burrowed deep into the pit of his stomach.

Maybe Madeleine was right: he had become a laughingstock. A failure. Just one big fuck up.

As much as he hated to hear the things said about him, he could deal with it. In the morning, he would call Prince Harry to swap stories, survival tips, and perhaps share a good laugh about it.

It was just ...

Liam felt Riley's tiny hand grip his a little tighter. He wouldn't blame her one bit if his little pussycat turned around and headed back up the steps to the jet and returned to Las Vegas. The only thing Liam wanted to do was keep her shielded from the hurtful comments and insensitive questions. But to his astonishment, she stood there with all the feigned confidence in the world, flashing a big, beaming smile that lit his heart on fire, while staring back at him affectionately. She was handling the situation better than she was before they stepped off the plane. He knew she was doing it for him. God, she just makes everything better. 

Feeling a little more grounded and in control, Liam returned her smile. A touch of radiance sparkled between his eyes and hers, as if it were some sort of unspoken conversation only they understood. Riley knew exactly what he needed at that moment to rise above this scandal they were both being raked over the coals for: He needed her to be okay.

Raising his free hand to calm the crowd so that he might address their concerns, he noticed the press' attention and cameras suddenly shift away from him and into the distance. Murmurs and chatter soon erupted. Naturally, Liam's gaze followed suit -- towards a group of heavily-armed soldiers heading their way. They wore white hazmat uniforms and had self-contained breathing apparatus and personal protective equipment. Leading the charge was a well-dressed gentleman in a three-piece suit with a shiny bald head that glistened with heavy perspiration. 

He walked like he hadn't shit in weeks.

Liam squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. “The hell is that?”

Riley inched closer to Liam and clasped his suit jacket. "What's happening right now? Who are all those people, Liam?"

Liam's forehead creased in puzzlement; he didn't know. Wrapping his arms protectively around Riley, he pulled her even closer but never answered the question. It wasn't until the uniformed men stopped briefly and pointed to Drake, who was standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the stairs, that it suddenly became clear who they were looking for.

Reporters and onlookers had been so focused on Liam’s return with the American woman, they hadn’t noticed that the brooding Walker had exited the jet last among their posse. Just as everyone had watched replays and snippets of Maxwell’s Instagram video, they were also fully aware the King’s best friend wasn’t exactly returning to Cordonia … healthy … thanks to Maxwell’s Tik Tok sing-along. 

A video Drake Walker had no clue existed. 

 The crowd began to disperse in fear and panic. If men in hazmat suits were needed, they could only assume this went well beyond your casual, run-of-the-mill STD.

Still in no mood to play around, Drake started yelling obscenities and gradually backing away from the hazmat brigade that was closing in on him like a cheetah at a water buffalo hole. 

"Mr. Walker," a heavily echoed voice called out, sounding oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader through their breathing contraption, "we need you to come with us."

"The fuck I do." Drake shook his head emphatically while continuing to slide away from them. "I'll beat the shit out of all of ya if you so much as touch me."

"Now, Mr. Walker, don't be stubborn. Try it, and you'll find yourself with a nice little tranquilizer to the ass. Are you going to come with us willingly, or do we have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?"

Drake stood motionless in disbelief. "I don't even know what you guys want or what you think I did," he squawked with a hint of desperation in his tone.

"Tough titties. SEIZE HIM!"

With that order, Drake twisted on the heels of his boots and took off, dodging and weaving away from a bunch of men he had no clue why were even after him. 

He had a pretty good hunch, though, who set this chain of events in motion.

The bald guy in a three-piece suit walked up to Liam and flipped his badge open. "Your Majesty?"

Liam nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the man's credentials. "I am. What is the meaning of all this? What the hell are you doing with Drake?"

"Sir, if you will, it has come to our attention that Mr. Walker is a public health risk and highly contagious. We will have to secure him into our custody at once."

Liam scrunched up his face in utter confusion and stared back at the official before responding, “He just has case of crabs, syphilis, herpes, genital warts, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. You’re treating him like he’s about to start some damn worldwide pandemic. Without sexual contact and with heavy doses of medications and creams, Drake should be able to live a normal life like anyone else. So, as the ruler of this country, I am ordering your men to stand down at once.”

“My apologies, King Liam, but my orders come from the World Health Organization and the United Nations. You'll need to take this up with them. Dr. Wolfschitz was clear on the protocol."

"Dr. Wolfschitz?" Liam questioned as realization quickly set in. He twisted around to face Leo, who had this enormous shit-eating grin, the likes he'd never seen on him before. "You? You did this?"

“Walker messed with the wrong bull, little bro.” Leo stuck up his pointer fingers on both sides of his head with a menacing scowl and smugness in his tone. “Now he gets the horns.”

Liam swatted away one of Leo's finger horns. “This is serious, Leo. Not everything is a joke! You're going to fix this, NOW!"

Leo placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, patting it a few times before speaking softly to him. “Look, I know you’re upset right now. You two were very close. But the Drakester is going to a far better place. There’s a big open field and everything where he can run and play all day with others just like him. And all the meaty bones he can eat too … lucky bastard.”

Riley had to bury her face in Liam’s chest to prevent the laugh that threatened to escape, but the bobbing of her shoulders was something she couldn’t hide. 

“NOW, Leo!” 

Leo tried to hold his ground but was too weak to resist the impatient glare Liam was burning into his soul. After a brief moment, he rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Why ya gotta be such a dillhole, Liam? Do you realize you get rattled faster than a two-tit turtle on a tightrope? It's really not your best quality, little brother, but we can work on that." Annoyed, Liam rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned as his brother continued, "Either way, Father always said, ‘if you can't help your fellow man out, you might as well become one of the Walkers.’ Truer words were never spoken so eloquently.”  Leo raised his eyes to the heavens thoughtfully before thinking better of it and lowered them toward the ground. "May you rest in peace, Father," he shouted.

As Leo trotted off to speak with Bald Dude to confess his false claim, Bastien helped guide Liam and Riley through the rambunctious swarm of reporters and spectators. Once they reached the limo, Liam helped Riley inside as Maxwell rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side. Pausing for a moment before sliding in, the King placed his hands on top of the open door of the limo and turned one last time to check on his friend. He swallowed hard over the guilt of leaving him behind. As His Majesty watched in horror, Drake took a tranquilizer dart to the back of the thigh and Bastien insisted the area was a security threat, shoving him inside. They would send another car to transport Drake and Leo back to the palace. 

Bastien stomped on the gas pedal and sped off, kicking up dirt and smoke as the tires peeled and squealed against the fiery Cordonian asphalt.

When they passed through the airport's security gate, a small motorcade following closely behind, Liam finally lifted his head, his eyes growing wide when he realized what just happened: Bastien's shove had sent Liam flying across the seat to land face-first into a lap — her lap. 

He stayed frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the two slender, bronzed legs peeking out below the hem of his new wife's dress. 

Riley lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin dangling from her plush pink lips. "Something you wanna say, Your Majesty?"

Everything that had just happened in the 15 minutes since they landed was long forgotten. Drake who? Liam glanced up with a devilish smirk. "Welcome to Cordonia, Pussycat."

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink

@liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography

@txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09

Liam x MC only: Cordonia-gothqueen

Anything with Drake: @tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags:  @sanchita012 ​  @narrytheworld ​  @queenwalton   @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess   @liamandneca @emkay512 @waywardromancefantasygirl @nomadics-stuff @queendianaofcordonia @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @kat-tia801 @drrookie @sfb123

[lovelyjasmari]

Kingdom hearts- send a fandom

The first character I first fell in love with:

RIKU!!! Seeing Riku was love at first sight for me and over the years I've really grown to love and appreciate his character more and more. Sadly some of the writing choices in his story post-DDD has left me a little bored with his character but he'll always be a favorite of mine. I like to think of him as a favorite brother or beloved son. ❤❤❤

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: 

Kairi for sure. I was always somewhat indifferent to Kairi in the past and downright hated her for a while after KH3. But after I started writing her more in my fics and after having an epiphany, I realized that she's actually a very cool character and lovely lady. So much so that she's now in my top 5 kh characters. I just want the best for her.🥺💖

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: 

There really isn't any character I dislike because I find every character's story interesting in their own...Axel! FU*KING AXEL! I was never a fan of him, never shipped him with Roxas even during the early years of the fandom but my dislike of him has only grown over the years, and seeing how the fandom constantly dumps on characters like Saix and Marluxia for their abuses but Axel somehow get off scot-free has only made me dislike him more. I'd go into more detail as to why I dislike him but I think I'm already risking a glowing red dot on my forehead by even uttering this aloud. 😅

The character I love that everyone else hates: 

Saix? I know there are still some that think his redemption was undeserved because of how he treated Xion. I don't think so, it was just not written in the best way. Same with Marluxia. A lot of people get on them for their abuses and crimes, but somehow like to forget how Axel more or less abandoned Saix and his quest to find Subject X, actively lied to and gaslit his supposed best friends and kidnapped Kairi just for the chance to revive his best friend who didn’t even want to be back in the organization by that point. But that’s none of my business...

The character I used to love but don’t any longer:

Honestly, even though I was never a fan of Axel's character, he did amuse me and made me laugh many times. But he doesn't even do that for me anymore and I partially blame his fandom for that...

The character I would totally smooch: 

Marluxia, among others...👀

The character I’d want to be like: 

Aqua, she's so beautiful and graceful and strong. Also she's resilient. I adore her so much.

The character I’d slap: 

So for all my dislike of Axel, I'd actually wanna slap Xehanort first for obvious reasons. I wanna smack his shiny ass bald head and play it like a hand drum! Also wanna slap Yen Sid too, actually I wanna slap most of the old men in Kingdom Hearts. Except maybe Merlin but he's on thin fu*king ice.

A pairing that I love:

I'd say Marlar but that's too obvious. So Sokai. Again it wasn't a pairing I really cared about in the past but it has grown on me tremendously over the past few years. I WILL cry pathetically when they're reunited in KH4.

A pairing that I despise: 

Risem for extremely personal reasons I'd rather not get into here. Also Marnami because in the early days of the fandom she was the one most ppl paired Marluxia with even before Larxene. I hated it then and for those barn cats that still create content for that ship, I hate it now.

[horrorslashergirl]

Deliciously Taboo

Chromeskull x Reader x The Collector

Chromeskull alias Jesse Cromeans

The Collector alias Asa Emory

Warning: NSFW content

Part 1 here

PART 2

Authors Note: Finally the part 2 of this dandy story. Just mark me as horny and frustrated. I was a little reluctant to do it, but the hell with it. Enjoy!~

Seeing your friend so excited made you let out a chuckle. She was more excited than you for this date with two so-called 'sugar daddies'. You were currently seated in the chair next to your vanity as she curled your hair, very careful with every wave that the curler in her hands did.

"You look so gorgeous [Name], you will make them fall on their knees for you, babe." she naughtily said, biting her lower lip and suggestively wiggling her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and huffed in exasperation.

As she finished your hair, she took another good look at your make-up, making sure that everything was perfect.

"So what are you gonna wear, darling?" she asked. You bite your lower lip again; well you never thought of that. She rolled her eyes at you, walking to her dresser, pulling tons of clothes out, creating a chaotic mess. She turned around with a strapless classic black dress that was a little too short, but you knew you couldn't argue with her. She will probably give you another argument about 'Show what ya mama gave ya'. So you just stayed silent, until she gave you a little white box with a tiny red bow on it.

"What is this?" you asked, inspecting the box, wondering what she planned in her devious head. Your friend motioned for you to open it and you did. Looking inside, you pulled out a pair of skin-color stockings, each one with a pink bow up, where the thigh is, plus there was a pair of baby-pink laced panties. Your eyes widened at the gift, looking up at your friend who only smirked.

"You gotta look good, honey. The first impression is always important." she explained, giving you the pair of pink stilettos.

You huffed, getting ready for the big night. From the mail that you received from the supposed sugar daddies, you three were gonna go to a restaurant, have some drinks and discuss the terms of this 'relationship'.

Exiting your apartment, you thanked God it was warm outside, so you didn't need a coat, although it kind of would have been salvation from your skimpy outfit, that your friend said you looked good enough to be eaten.

A black and good-looking car pulled over slowly next to you. From your knowledge of cars, it was a Bentley, and an expensive one. You could only dream to get inside such a car. 

The doors opened and two men in black fine suits got out. Your eyes ranked over the two tall figures. The shorter one had sandy brown hair that was swiped to the side a little, with unique shiny black eyes. The other one was much taller, with a bald head and brown eyes, his face looked to be scarred, giving him a malicious look, but he was still handsome; that dangerous, alluring look. Both of them were pretty big and buff, pure masculine power.

You could feel your face heat up, so you looked down until a deep voice called out your name. It was the brown-haired one, looking you up and down. You nodded, trying to act cool, although it was pretty hard.

"My name is Asa Emory and my friend over here is Jesse Cromeans. Please excuse him for his silence, he is mute." Asa said all professionally. Oh, that was a first. 

Jesse only looked you up and down, more intense than Asa did, with no shame, making your blush deepen, only for the bald man to give you a lop-sided smirk.

"Shall we?" Asa asked, opened the backdoor to the Bently for you. At last, he was a gentleman, so you got inside; the two men getting into their front seats, with Jesse driving.

The whole drive was silent, you didn't even know how to begin a discussion on this unusual date, so you opted to stay put, for now.

The drive was pretty short, finally getting to the local where your date would be. It was a pretty expensive one, seeing it before but only from outside, never having money to eat here.

Asa opened the door, so you could get out. Shutting it after you were by his side, Jesse gave the keys to one of the red-dressed body-servants so they could park it. 

Getting inside, you were mesmerized by how the place looked, so fancy and it made you feel kinda out of the place. Following the two men, you saw that they were escorting you to a private lounge.

Jesse pulled out the chair for you, making you give him a small smile. As the two men sat down, they both looked at you.

"Look...I've never done something like this before an-" before you could finish Jesse raised a palm, in a sigh to stop your talking, making you feel a little nervous.

"We could tell, but don't worry. We are gonna explain everything...in the form of a contract." Asa explained, giving you from the looks of it as a business contract.

"We are serious about this, don't take it as a joke." A deep robotic, but still manly voice said. It came from Jesses Mobil. Well, at last, he could make out what he wanted. Asa pushed the contract to your hands. You took it and looked over it, not knowing exactly what to do.

"I will explain it to you in simpler words. The contract says that you belong to us, think about it as a polyamorous relationship, that means we get to share you, no ifs or buts....And there are rules that you need to follow to make this relationship work." Asa said, his face serious, making you feel small under his gaze.

Your eyes scanned the contract, coming on the paragraph with the list of rules.

RULES OF THIS RELATIONSHIP:

You belong to us, meaning any kind of other relationships is to be done with. No cheating.

You will get an allowance of 10.000$ every month plus gifts that you will receive from both of us, depending on how good you behaved. 

Because of our jobs, we are pretty busy, so you will be contacted when we will meet and date.

We will pay your rent and college tuition.

Good behavior is very important. This is not a simple boyfriend-girlfriend relationship that you can do whatever you want.

In the department of sex, we will both share with you, a quick warning that vanilla is not our type; you need to understand the full concept of it.

You didn't know what to say. It sounded too tempting to be true, but if you said no you will lose the biggest chance of having a life that you could only dream about.

The waiter came in, bringing a bottle of Dalmore Kind whiskey with a bucket of ice, pouring three glasses of the expensive liquor with ice, then leaving without saying a word.

Jesse pulled out a pack of cigarettes labeled Nat Sherman from the looks of it, along with a silver lighter with a skull on it. Lighting up one, he puffed out smoke, then sipping on the whiskey.

You took a sip yourself and coughed up a little, making Jesse smirk your way.

"So [Name]...What is gonna be?" Asa asked, taking himself a sip, licking his lips after. 

You didn't know what to say or do. It was so tempting, not to mention both men were so good-looking, talk about devilish handsome. Thinking back about having two jobs that didn't pay enough to pay rent and college, let's not talk about even getting food and necessities to live.

"Say yes and all your dreams will come true. Gucci bags, DIOR perfumes, Louboutin shoes, Swarovski jewelry? You name it, doll." Jesse robotic phone app explained. He took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in your direction, making you cough.

Asa only glared at the man next to him. Jesse sure knew how to persuade someone.

Your mind was racing a hundred miles an hour, the more devious part of your brain only purring at the delicious offer these two men gave you on a silver platter.

"Yes...." you whispered as your eyes looked up at them. Asa gave you a lop-sided smile, while Jesse was practically grinning.

"Perfect. Just sign at the end of the contract that you are aware and agree with the terms." Asa said.

Without any more words, you signed in cursive letters your name.

After you all finished your drinks you headed to the black Bently, so they could take you home. It was a weird date to put it all, but you were intrigued by these men.

Stopping the car in front of the apartment complex, Asa got out to open the door for you.

"It was a great date. Thank you." you shyly said, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. Asa nodded and smiled at you.

"Our pleasure. Have a good night, [Name]" Asa said and gave your cheek a small peck, Jesse leaning on the side of the car looking at both of you.

Asa moved to the car, getting inside, but not before looking into Jesses eyes with a serious emotionless face.

Jesse leaned from the car moving to you. He was so much taller than Asa, making you feel so small. He smirked down at you, pulling you flush against him, giving your lips a bruising kiss that lasted only some seconds.

Pulling away, your face looked so red with embarasment. Jesse waved at you, getting inside the car and starting the engine. You looked as the car drove away, your mind a blank pallet from what just happened.

Getting inside the apartment you thanked God that your friend was asleep. You didn't need to explain to her all the juicy details of your first date.

At Jesses mansion...

The mansion was empty, let alone from the trail of clothes that lead to the master bedroom. Behind the closed double-doors on the black king-sized bed with silver details, where the two men, the pillows on the floor and tangled sheets under them.

Asa was gripping the black-wooded bedframe as his life depended on it, teeth grinding together as Jesse tugged on the black-tie from Asa's neck like a leash. 

The bald man's trusts were hard and deep, making the smaller male groan and grind his ass on Jesse. If you would have looked it was probably the most erotic scene. The bigger male rutting inside the smaller male backdoor, one of his hands grasping his hips, nails digging into the flesh, leaving crescent marks.

One of Jesse's hands moved into the sandy brown locks of his partner, tugging as his pace quickened, his length hitting his insides just at the right point.

Asa's cock rubbed on the black silk sheets under them, a string of pre-cum connected from the head of his length to the mattress, glistening in the moonlight from the big windows of the bedroom.

"Nrghh....H-Harder....so close." Asa whispered, feeling like he was gonna explode from all the things he was feeling right now.

The taller man picked up the speed, his balls slapping against his lovers' ones. The sound of skin slapping against skin and the groans and moans were music to both of them.

They knew both were close, so with one hard trust from Jesse, he stilled inside Asa, balls deep, as both of them were hit with powerful climaxes. Asa's load hitting the bedsheets and frame of the bed, while Jesse finished inside the brown-haired male.

Normally they would have used a condom, but coming from that date, seeing you all dolled up, and for them; it made their libido sky-rock.

They stayed like this for some minutes to catch their breaths, until Jesse pulled out slowly, his cum dripping from Asa, coating the black sheets in white.

Asa was exhausted, laying on his belly, as he closed his eyes in bliss.

Jesse stayed on the edge of the bed, rubbing Asa's voluptuous buttcheeks.

Jesse's mind went to you as he pulled a cigarette from his pack, lighting it and taking a long drag.

His lips curled into a devilish smirk.

Oh yes, they couldn't way for your little self to join them.

[misc-headcanons]

One of the dumber things I've thought of in the past week:

So you know that one episode of Seinfeld where George gets with the woman taking care of this ornery old man, and it ends with the others walking in on her rubbing oil on his bald head so he can rub it all over her

I keep imagining that but with Saitama and his s/o. Like Genos, Fubuki, and King come into the apartment without knocking and they just see an undressed Saitama, his bald-ass dome shiny with baby oil while his equally undressed s/o is visibly shiny from their "alone time" together

[idga-buck]

use somebody || two

pairing: harry x plus-size!reader

word count: 1,900

warnings: mentions of sex, douchebaggery, and shitty attitudes towards women.

summary: it’s been weeks and even though he knows better, harry still thinks about you

challenge: @baezen​‘s the Other Guys Writing Challenge

previous masterlist next

gif: @ransomflanagan

Running into you again seemed like a pipe dream. At least until it happened, but Harry had given up on the idea long before then. As he relayed the morning after to Nikki, his friend told him to stop overthinking it. You got laid and you got a good day out of it, what else could you possibly want? An ironic question coming from the guy who’d just gotten back from a four night camping trip that pushed him over the edge and ended the almost three week fling with a bang. Literally. In his annoyance, he kicked a cooler over and three bottles of homemade moonshine broke next to the campfire. He was lucky no one got hurt and Harry… he tried not to laugh, but if there was one thing Nikki was good at, it was making a dramatic exit. It was hard not to take his friends’ words to heart, so he swallowed them. Nikki was right. He met a girl, they had their fun, and the next day he woke up in a king suite, not a cinder block basement with someone trying to wear his skin like a pair of tights. You couldn’t ask for much else in those situations.

Your unexpected rejection stung, no more than any of the others, but the next time he saw you, it was all forgiven. Harry hadn’t realized that his eyes would look for you, but not so he can keep his distance. The opposite. You’d been fun, genuinely funny and it was a trait he forgot he could expect from a woman. So many of these fresh out west girls were terrified of saying the wrong thing and being fedexed right back to Duluth or Kokomo or Sioux Falls or whatever boring midwestern city they’d escaped. The city feels smaller when you’re born there, when you belong. It was just his hometown, not the dreamscape everyone painted it out to be. Most people’s photo op was his childhood memory and he liked it like that. It was just about the only way he felt superior to anyone around him. He’d never be the wealthiest in the room, but he’d always have seniority.

This night was no exception. The party was filled with the future faces of Hollywood, but for now, everyone was a no one who wanted to be someone. Those kinds of gatherings usually annoyed him, but there was music and drinks and no cover charge like the cars and clubs, so he rarely said no when someone snagged an invite. The guys he’d rolled up with were already lurking, watching everyone move and mingle to determine their game for the night. Garret was practicing an accent behind him and Harry spun to punch him in the arm. It was lazy, but effective. Especially with the new girls, whose dream it was to be mistaken for a local, to show some attractive foreigner all the spots they’d been shown during their first “tour.” He laughed loudly, as his friend snatched a glass from the hand of a practically orange mass of muscle wearing sunglasses at night and stumbled over to a fluttering circle of short skirts. It wouldn’t take long for Garret to be coated in their body glitter and the small crew jeered as one small manicured hand slipped up to his neck after only introductions. Marcus slinked over toward the bar next, his shiny bald head and thick black stubble was more than enough to bring the attention to him. His confidence and blinding white smile, paired with a heathered grey t shirt that barely contained his thick pecs, which he could make dance for the entertainment of many ladies, Harry looked away quickly, knowing it was only a matter of time before someone snatched up the effortless charmer too. Nikki remained with him near the entrance. His charm required a lot of effort. Harry had never had a friend that he liked as much as he hated, but that was Nikki’s sweet spot, Operating from behind always as if the self loathing fueled his desire to win someone over. He’d seen it work too many times to count, but Harry still couldn’t believe it. His friend never took know for an answer and just when you thought he’d struck out for the 17th time with the same woman, she’d slide away from him with a “come get me” smile and Nikki’s whole universe was her for the next hour or so.

“They’re back,” Nikki’s shoulder collided with his, nudging Harry in the direction of the friends they’d run into over the last few weeks. He watched them all file in, waving their IDs too quickly to actually be checked as they started dancing before their feet hit the dance floor. It was embarrassing, but he knew that if he was sleeping with one of them, he’d call it adorable. There was always one or two of the group who entered the scene like adults and he couldn’t figure out the group’s dynamic for the life of him. They travelled together, drank together, and seemed to enjoy each other’s company, but it was clearly fragmented and the connection was a mystery. On occasion, you’d be with the girls who shook their heads at the others, but with big smiles nonetheless. Sometimes the whole group could be convinced to dance. It was easier after taking shots. Harry was surprised to see that you weren’t with them tonight. Even more surprising- the disappointment he felt as he rose up onto his toes, hoping he’d just missed your entrance, and still didn’t see you. “Marissa’s pissed at me, so-“

“Maritza,” Harry corrected mindlessly, eyes still on the group his friend would actively avoid for the rest of the night. More disappointment. Nikki had a system, but sometimes, if a girl was particularly disinterested he required back up. That’s where Harry stepped in with enough resistance to still make him feel like a good person, but not so much that he wasn’t a good friend. Hanging around Nikki often made him choose, but he couldn’t complain. It was how he met you and how he’d managed to run into you again.

There were the casual run ins. The nods from across a busy room that led nowhere or the greetings so short that he really couldn’t tell if you even remembered sleeping with him. It gave him an inexplicable rush of embarrassment every time he saw you and it hadn’t led to more. You didn’t even use his name and it frustrated him more than it made sense to.

It had been weeks since that night, but the first time he got the chance to talk to you- really talk to you- he hoped it would lead to more. Even more than that, he hoped you wanted that too.

--

The up and comer was flirting his ass off, saying all the right things when you walked up to another one of your friends. Harry couldn’t remember who it was yeah time, Sheila maybe, the one covering her mouth after nearly spitting out the shot some guy in tight pants slid over to her. Once you’d approached though, Nikki was treading water. Nothing he said ever made much sense, but it was a lot more obvious when one of your girlfriends is contradicting him at every turn. Harry wasn’t even looking for his friend before he felt the back of his pin striped vest being yanked hard. He half stumbled into the conversation and was promptly introduced to you. You you. The same you he’d sweat and sighed with, but here he was extending his hand like an idiot. First to you, then Sheila, no, Sherrie, yeah Sherrie with an “ie” like Cherry she’d claimed, to which Harry with a “y” laughed when you’d all but slapped your own forehead at her statement. You’d laughed at his introduction though, smiled at his attempts to lightly poke fun without bringing too much attention to the mistake. Nikki saw the smile and moved quickly, dragging Harry off to the bar for another round after commanding the girls to stay put.

“Fall on it.”

“On what?”

“The grenade.”

Harry frowned and looked back toward the girls they’d just left. “No,” he said simply without looking away. You were rounder than the blonde bean pole next to you, but he’d hardly consider you the ugly friend. There was something sweet about the way you were protecting your friend from an idiot like Nikki and if Harry liked him even a little bit more, he might do the same from time to time. But he didn’t and was content to watch him crash and burn if that was what fate had in store. Sherrie was very clearly Nikki’s type. He liked long legs and small breasts, tinier the better. He said it made the girls a little self conscious and eager to please. Harry wasn’t even shocked at half the shit he heard anymore. He wasn’t picky, maybe a little too loose at times, falling fast for the girls who’d break his heart if they managed to last long enough. He tried the one night stand thing… and he’d probably try it again too. At least until he got it right. He’d yet to decide if you were one he got right or wrong. Your reaction the next morning made him lean towards wrong, but you weren’t pushing him away now and he thought maybe it’d be worth a second round. For science. Romance wasn’t what he was looking for, but when it was absent, he picked up on it and usually found a way to sabotage the whole thing. Maybe it was what he was looking for, but you can’t just tell a girl that. It was only half conscious, but he saw himself making the same mistakes over and over again, pissing off women and being left with less cards than he started with. Watching you talk to your friend over and between the shoulders of smug idiots with fake tans and gelled up hair, he was weighing the pros and cons of continuing down this road and risking pissing you off too. Running you away just like the others… for a second time.

“Too big?” Nikki asked, before taking a sip of Sherrie’s cocktail to test its potency and gesturing to the glass for the bartender to add more.

“What? No, not-“ Harry looked back at his friend and grabbed a drink for himself… and one for you. “No, she’s great,” he said quickly, but that didn’t really cover it. He already knew you intimately, but even before that, he thought you were pretty. Too pretty to be the topic of this particular conversation. “She’s not a grenade, don’t be a dickhead.”

“She's cockblocking me, whatever she is, so make it go away.” Nikki shoulder checked him again on the way by and your drink dropped to the cement pool deck with a damp clink, sending pink liquid all over his shoes.

Harry swore and kicked the cup out of his way, thankful it was plastic so he didn’t make too much of a scene.

“Hey,” he looked up with wide eyes and you giggled. He clearly hadn’t expected to see you, especially standing so close to him and it took him more than a socially acceptable amount of time to formulate a response, until he settled on silence. Again.

[aziraamane]

Human AU - Part 6

This fic now has a name! I’ll be calling it “All the Better Part of Me” when it finally goes up onto AO3 - because I spent far too much time reading Shakespeare’s sonnets to call it anything else.

(Previous) - (First) 

"Is Warlock coming today?" Adam asked, again.

"Yup," Crowley said, popping the 'p.' He tightened his knees around Adam, holding him in place as he dragged a brush through the squirming boy's hair. "Hold still, you little devil."

"'Nath'ma does it nicer!"

"Do you?" Crowley glowered up at Anathema, comfortable on the sofa; she winked at him from behind her coffee mug.

"Maybe."

"You do it, then," Crowley muttered, Adam still wriggling on the carpet.

"Sorry, can't. I'm off the clock for another, oh, two minutes seventeen seconds."

"I hate you."

"Aww, if I weren't being paid extra tonight, I'd hate you, too, Mr Grumpy." 

The doorbell rang at that point, and Adam shot up from Crowley's grip to answer it. With the sudden loss of nephew, Crowley looked at the brush in his hand, shrugged, and began to neaten his own hair. 

No dirt smudged his cheeks today. He’d prepared for guests this time, scrubbed clean and sporting his casual ensemble of tight-fitting, black v-neck tee and even tighter-fitting black jeans. His sunglasses were off, but Anathema was already handing them to him as he contemplated slipping them back on, and he went with the safer option of wearing them.

Warlock came running into the room, all smiles, Adam trailing behind. "Hello!" he announced. 

"Hey, kiddo," Crowley grinned, chucking the hairbrush over his shoulder.

"I gots, uh, cookies in my bag. They got chocolate in them."

"Oh, dear. The womens' mags get mad at me if I don't watch my waistline." Crowley patted his belly with a wink, sticking out his tongue at Warlock, who laughed.

"Come off it, my dear. If anything you could afford to put on a few pounds." Ezra appeared in the doorway, holding Warlock's jacket. 

A flood of warmth suffused Crowley's face at his arrival, along with a starburst of a smile. "Hey, angel."

"Hello, Anthony. Thank you so much for agreeing to take Warlock for the night."

"What are friends for, eh?" He slithered to his feet, joints cracking. "Got time for a drink?"

Ezra shook his head. "I'm afraid not, I must dash off again - do keep in touch, though, won't you? I haven't actually left Warlock with anybody before…"

"Don't worry, he's in good hands with Ana."

For seemingly the first time since he walked in, Ezra noticed Anathema. "Ah! Miss Device! I didn't see you down there. How are you?"

"Good, thanks, Ezra." She flashed a look at Crowley that could only speak of triumph before addressing Ezra again, "I promise I'll contact you if anything comes up, okay? Relax a little."

"Thank you." A little weight seemed to leave Ezra's shoulders. "Well...must go, then." He gestured to Warlock, roughhousing with Adam, and the boy wobbled over, beaming. They came together in a long embrace, Ezra pressing kisses over Warlock's rosy cheeks. "Be on your best behaviour, darling," Crowley heard him whisper, "but if you feel lonely or - or sad - or just need to talk, then-"

"Ezra~" Crowley sing-songed, tapping his watch.

"U-Um. Yes. Quite." Ezra's eyes were overly shiny when he pulled back, though Warlock just giggled and skipped off to play with Adam again. Ezra got to his feet, brushed down his already perfectly smooth trousers. "Well, then. I...I'll be going."

It was clear the man was utterly miserable. He didn't at all want to go to dinner with his siblings. He didn't want to leave his son behind. He didn't like being out of his comfort zone. 

Dammit, he was so cute. 

"Come on, angel." Crowley threw an arm round Ezra's shoulders and steered him firmly, but not unkindly, towards the front door. "S’only a few hours, it'll fly by before you know it." He'd been at enough parties to know that that was a complete lie, but at that moment he'd do anything to wipe the despair off of Ezra's rapidly paling face. "Won't be long before the kids are asleep, anyway, and they won't be getting up to much mischief when they're out for the count. So relax. I reckon you've earned some time off from being dad."

Ezra blinked his big, watery eyes up at Crowley, and his bottom lip finally stopped trembling. "Oh, thank you," he whispered. "I've just been fretting so much about all this. It's terrifying, Anthony."

"Only as terrifying as you make it, angel. Now go, go on, put on a few pounds in my place, you deserve it!" With a final comforting pat on the back, Crowley urged Ezra through the front door and closed it with a snap. 

A long, low huff of breath whooshed from his lungs as he turned, leaning his back against the cool wood. Eyes trained on the ceiling, he sighed. Poor guy's got a lot on his shoulders.

Anathema was staring at him from the living room doorway when he looked back, her expression a picture of utter glee. "What?" snapped Crowley.

She giggled. "You called him angel! Oh, Anthony! How didn't I twig beforehand? You fancy him!" 

Crowley folded his arms. "I'm not having this conversation with you, Ana."

"You're blushing."

"I'm walking away now."

"You're a soppy git!"

"I will fire your ass, I swear to fucking-"

From somewhere in the living room, Warlock gasped, "Your uncle said a swear!"

~*~

The meal was a sumptuous affair. If anything good could be said about the collective Fells, it was that they were marvellous cooks, and Michaela in particular had an excellent eye for wine pairings. Ezra sat on Uriel's left, Sandy to his right, and together they laughed and joked as they feasted. Wine flowed like water, and his stomach was full, his head pleasantly buzzing, and he wondered whatever had he been so worried about?

Until Gabriel cleared his throat, suddenly business-like.

"I told Ezra about the lecturer's position opening," he told Sandy. 

"Ah." The youngest Fell brother, Sandalphon - Sandy for short - was chaplain at King’s; a short, balding man with garish gold fillings in his teeth and a tendency to speak with a slight sneer. He turned now to Ezra, looking expectant. "And?"

Ezra coughed, reaching for his wine. "I have no plans to alter my career at present, Sandy. I'm quite content where I am." 

The looks of pity they all gave him was enough to make his food sit heavy in his stomach, and no longer pleasantly at that.

"What a shame," Sandy sighed. "And you were doing so well for yourself."

"It was my choice, and my choice alone, to leave the teaching profession."

"And we were all very sad for you when you left," Uriel chipped in. She was dark-skinned and dark-eyed, deceptively sweet-looking, and at twenty-four years old, the youngest of them all. Beside her, Michaela, with her rigid pose and coif of short brown curls, steepled her fingers under her chin and leaned in slightly, listening but remaining silent. 

The ever-present familial frustration that simmered in Ezra's blood began heating. "I appreciate everybody's concern," he said, stiff and mechanical, "but I wish you would trust me a little more to make my life decisions by myself."

"Ezra, you graduated from school and started out as a gardener, for Heaven's sake," Sandy retorted. 

"And that profession led to my eventually being allowed to adopt Warlock, may his birth parents rest in peace. You of all people, Sandalphon, ought to have more respect." 

“Oy vey…” Sandy pressed a hand to his brow.

Uriel patted Ezra’s hand. "We just can't help but worry about you," she said, sickly sweet.

"Why?" he snapped. "Because I am not intent on following our parents into their overworked graves, the way you are all doing?" Angrily, he swiped his mouth with a napkin, dropped it to his plate, and pushed himself to standing. "Every time we come together I hope that something will have changed. Every time, I am disappointed. So pray excuse my rudeness, but I will take my leave now - I have family more deserving of my time waiting for me." 

He made for the door, stopped, strode back to the table and grabbed an unopened bottle of wine. "I'm taking this,” he told Gabriel. “I can happily suggest where to shove it if you object." 

He thought he saw Michaela smirk behind her hands, the rest seemingly stunned into silence. 

"Thank you for the meal, but as for the rest, thanks for nothing. Toodle-pip!"

[lovemecharlie]

The wives vs. Dom Charlie. A series.

Bastion

A business trip to Wakanda and Nigeria had Erik caught up and unavailable for two entire weeks. He’d call from time to time but only for a minute or two to speak with one wife or another. This left Bastion to pout, left to deal with the havoc of her hormones without him.

Over the course of her day, she’d already masturbated twice in various public places but somehow she was still sexually frustrated. Walking into the house, her initial thought was run to the vibrator. She planned to go to her room to smackdown her cooch for the third time when a lightbulb went off in her mind. She found Charlie eating in the kitchen instead.

“Bast, hey,” Charlie greeted, her mouth full of homemade pizza fries. "Want some," Charlie offered.

“Hey. No... I actually came looking for you here because.. I miss Daddy," Bast paused. Charlie's heart broke for the girl. "..And I’m horny," Bast continued, "..But I can’t have him. So what’s up with King Jade,” Bastion asked, seemingly out of left field. It caught Charlie off guard. She paused, her cheesy french fry hanging in the air, nearly forgotten.

“You for real,” Charlie's brows arched in surprise. “Hm. Well, King Jade is always ready when you are. Let’s take it to my room though.. You go up and I’ll be there in a minute.” Watching Bastion exit, she put her fries in aluminum foil to be reheated later. A wicked smile crept onto her face as she grabbed a cold bottle of water. This is the first time I’m domming Bastion, she thought incredulously, propping herself up against the counter. Thoughts of Bastion’s brattiness, submissiveness, and level of kink flowed through her mind as she considered what she could do to and for the bratty baby. What do I wanna do, Charlie asked herself. King Jade responded. I wanna turn her into a desperate mess. I wanna make her forget Erik for just a short while. I want her to drip for the next week every time she thinks of what I did to that pussy. I'm gonna fuck her till she forgets her own damn name.

Water in hand, Charlie knew for a fact she'd need it. Jade might take a while. Ascending the stairs, she sauntered toward the room, her fingertips gently brushing the wall and increasing in sensitivity. Every step she took, she allowed herself to fall deeper and deeper into a spell of lust. By the time she entered her bedroom and spotted Bastion on the bed.. fully clothed.. she was pissed. Jade was ready to leap out. Charlie exhaled.

“Two things, doll,” Charlie stated closing the door gently behind herself. She felt like if she didn't move slowly, she'd attack the poor sub and they still needed to talk first. “First of all, you don't wear clothes on my bed. Okay? Take them off.. Now.” Immediately, Bastion sat up and began stripping off her green, white, and black striped twin set. She sat in her black lace Agent Provacature lingerie proudly. It was beautiful and sexy, but it was still clothing. Charlie took another breath to calm the King. Easy girl, she whispered inaudibly, without moving her lips. "Two. Make no mistake, Bastion, I’m perfectly aware that I’m not nor can I replace our beloved Daddy, but for the next hour,” Charlie said setting the timer on her phone, “I want you to submit completely to me. For the next hour, there is no Charlie. You will address me as King Jade. Do you understand?”

“Yes, King Jade,” Bastion replied. Charlie grinned, absolutely floored. It was the most submissive she'd ever seen Bastion. It was way too easy, Charlie thought. She was suspicious because she'd expected a struggle. This was the brat of the house.

“You acting different, what's up," Charlie asked, looking around the room before advancing forward to stand in front of a confused Bastion. There was a peice of lint caught in her hair that Charlie gently removed, smoothing her strands back into position. "I'm not used to your cute ass being so submissive, it's weird." Charlie's eyes narrowed.

"I'm bratty with men, but I'm more submissive with women," Bastion clarified looking up into Charlie's shiny dark eyes.

“So there's nothing negative going on with you right now and you're in a healthy mindstate,” Charlie asked only partially joking. "Yessss," Bastion grinned, humored. She squeeked when Charlie snatched her by the throat, the gold rings of her right hand pressing into the skin of her neck.

"Good," Charlie breathed digging her left hand into the front of Bastion's black thong. "Green light then." Her fingertips collected the beaded wetness from Bastion's bald Godiva peach, pushing it back inside roughly with two fingers going downwards, straight back, and curving upward. Bastion huffed as she felt Charlie's soft lips press into hers. Charlie's tongue invaded her mouth before taking hers captive with a suction and a nibble. The second Bastion began to release a soft moan, she was shoved backward into the bed.

"Take that cute black lace set off if you want to keep it." Bastion struggled to reach and remove each article, her movement and breathing limited.

"You wanna cum, I'm a help you cum." Charlie's grip on her throat tightened eliciting a gasp as she felt along Bastions front wall, pressing on her g-spot in a quick, consistent motion. "You feel that in your bladder?.. I know," Charlie smiled into Bastion's mouth, moving around to her ear. “But what took you so long to come to me?”

Bastion shivered, the gust of air tickling the skin of her ear while her hips moved, her entire body tuned into the pressure building down below. Her strong heartbeat could be felt at the base of her neck. Charlie eased up not wanting to choke her out and Bastion let out a deep gasp followed by deep exhales.

“Words, girl. Breathe on your own time,” Charlie warned, her attention set on getting the Godiva peach to squirt out more juice. Charlie's quick fingers were finally starting to drip how she wanted. She wanted Bastion to be extra wet for what she had planned. "Answer me!"

A light slap brought words from Bastion's mouth. "What," she breathed, her stomach tensing and releasing. She was so focused on her nut, she hadn't been listening. Charlie repeated the slap twice more on her other cheek, the second a bit harder. "Did you just what me?" The next slap was rough, but Bastion ate it like nothing. Charlie gripped her chin. "I said what took you so long to.. what the fuck," Charlie gasped looking down to watch the spurt of liquid spring off of her fingers. It caught her directly on the lip and on the arm and she kept up her motion, bringing out another high spurt. "Ohh you like getting slapped like that huh," Charlie said slapping her a few more times. Slapping and fingering, who'd have thought. Every time she whipped her fingers out of Bastion's peach, Bastion would squirt and Charlie would jam those same fingers right back in. "I SAID what took you so long to come see me," Charlie repeated. Bastion picked up her head and dropped it again to stare at the ceiling, panting.

"Oh you just mute now, huh?" Charlie's brows rose. King Jade wasn't having it. "We'll make you talk. Spread your pussy open and hold it open," Charlie commanded slapping her clit. "Don't move,” she said once Bastion was in position. Walking to her drawer, she pulled out her black strap-on. It was long and wide and she strapped it on, coating and stroking the shaft with her favorite lube. Had it been inside Erik? No. It was entirely too big for him. Charlie had been waiting on an opportunity to use it. Bastion was lying on her back already wet, her bald Godiva pussy lips glistening with the essence of her arousal. The lube was redundant, but thanks to Erik, Charlie was used to working with extra EXTRA slip. Something about the glide made things more pleasant for all parties.

“Hold it.. there you go,” Charlie repeated staring at Bastion's wet fingers and the two holes lined up in front of her. She held Bastion by the kneecaps as she slid deep into her peach, gliding out and diving back in. The sound of macaroni stirring mixed with Bastion's uneven grunts and random high pitched cries bounced off of the walls. I bet the anyone here can hear me effing this girl up, Charlie thought cheering herself on, throwing her hips at an angle.

"Oh shit.. Oh shit," Bastion bleated. Finally. She'd been stuck on silent for way too long.

"It's about time. You act like my dick giving skills ain't shit and we both know that's a lie."

A string of curse words spilled rhythmically from Bastion's mouth at varying volumes.

"Add a King Jade to that."

"Y-yes, King J-ade..," Bastion struggled.

"Good girl! Hold up, watch this.. You're gonna love this one," Charlie grinned climbing on top of the bed and flipping Bastion's legs back with her. Flexible. Squatting over Bastion's entrance, Charlie lined up her shaft up and dropped down deep into her guts, bouncing up and down.. up and down.. drilling her like a jackhammer.

"Say my name while I drop this dick in you."

"King Jade," Bastion whispered, close to cumming again.

Dropping a leg, Charlie reached down to smack her again. "If you're gonna cum, cum." She refused to stop even when Bastion did cum, her nails scratching at the bed.

"Shit.... Okay... Okay, I'm done," Bastion finally rushed. Charlie's legs were tired.

"Nah, turn over." Pushing Bastion into her stomach, Charlie held her down and plunged back into her peach, thrusting roughly from the back. She wrapped her hand around her hair, pulling it to control the distance of Bastion's movements as the force of her strokes forced Bastion's body to shake, thrown back and forth. Bastion's head was stuck in position.

"Oh.. nfuck," Bastion squeaked. "Okay!.. Okay.."

"You talkative now," Charlie spoke over Bastion's groans. The cold plastic water bottle laid on the bed and Charlie got a wicked idea. Freeing Bastion's head, she picked up the bottle and twisted the cap off, pouring it between Bastion's asscheeks letting it shock her. She jumped from the abrupt temperature change as the cold water dripped down her peach, but Charlie kept pouring until the bottle was empty, her free hand grabbing Bastion's hair again to keep her from running. She smacked the empty bottle against Bastion's ass before throwing it. Bastion sounded like she was done, all cummed out and at this point it was crossing a line from pleasure into torture.

"Don't act like that.You ain't fragile," Charlie teased. "You wanted to cum. I'm a make sure you get all your nuts so take em."

For the next half hour Charlie took her duty seriously, stroking Bastion nonstop in various positions. They were both sweating. Bastion's sex drive was high, but she needed a break. She was begging for a break. Charlie pulled out.

"Suck it dry," she commanded, waiting for Bastion to sit up and get to it. That's exactly what Bastion did, sucking all of the residue from the strap. "You like that, don't you," Charlie teased. Bastion came up off of the fake dick with a pop.

"Yes, King Jade."

Charlie chuckled, "You suck that like I can feel it. I can't feel this shit girl! I'm about to go finish my fries. But I want you to take the blanket and sheets off my bed and wash them since you squirted all over them and they're soaked. Do that and then session over. I'll make you some pasta."

Taking her leave, Charlie was still sticky with peach juice on her. It didn't bother her in the least. While reheating her food, her phone rang and after seeing who it was, she answered excitedly.

"DAKA!!"

"Heyy ChaCha, what's up. Checking on you. How you doing?"

"Better now that you called, how's the center in Lagos? Is it anything like yours?"

"They've got some things in place I want to incorporate at home. They have a banking system and I wanna take that and push it a little further, teach kids to keep the wealth amongst themselves and in their own communities."

"That's a good idea. That means we would also do well with a directory of local black businesses. I can never find a good list so let's make one."

"Pretty and smart. That's why I married you. Look, I gotta go. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"I love you too.. And call Bastion, she misses you."

"I know she does. I'll call her in an hour when I leave this next meeting."

"Okay. Good luck in there."

"I don't need luck, I got my wives behind me. Y'all all the luck I need."

"Okay," Charlie laughed, "Bye. Go be great."

He hung up and so did Charlie. So with all the cameras in the house, he didn't know about what she and Bastion just did and as long as she didn't say anything he wouldn't know. Not that Charlie cared. She didn't fear Erik, but him being oblivious made her feel a little sneaky and she loved it.

@killmongersprncss @amethyst1993 @allhailnjadaka @bidibidibombaclaat  @blackpantherismyish @panthergoddessbast @eriknutinthispoosy @thehomierobbstark  @youreadthatright @iamrheaspeaks @wifeyofnjadaka @tgigoldie @hidden-treasures21 @forbeautyandlife @vikkidc @tiava143 @teheeboo @destinio1 @theunsweetenedtruth @leahnicole1219 @whoramilaje @ange-sensuel

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Chapter 20

"When my love comes down, I don't have to run around

I've got you and you know just what to do

to fulfill all my needs and satisfy me

But I'd like to know if the sexual healing is mutual,

do you feel what I'm feeling?

Do I please you? Do I fill the need? I know I might sound bold,

but I'd just like to know

Is it good to you? I want to know

Is it good to you? Oooh, I got to know, yeah

Is it good to you? C'mon and tell me, boy, yeah

Is it good to you?"

Tammy Lucas – "Is it Good to You?"

Damn near shit-faced.

That's how N'Jobu felt sitting around the V.I.P. table with his friends. Drinks flowed, the music was out of control, and it felt so good to curse with Birnin Zana slang without having to check himself. He had known these guys since he was six years old. They were loyal, discreet, and fucking funny as hell.

Once N'Jobu caught up with the current happenings in and around Birnin Zana, and who was screwing who on the down low and in public, the conversation took a turn when he discovered that it was Jax going through the pregnancy scandal with the newly divorced socialite and River Tribe noblewoman.

Tossing back more plum liquor shots, N'Jobu heard the sordid tale straight from the jackass's mouth.

"Like, damn, Jax. Why the hell didn't you use protection? Ngqundu wako!" N'Jobu scolded.

"I'm an ass? Masende kayihlo!" Jax cursed back grabbing at his balls to insult N'Jobu.

"Eh, my father's balls? Nyo kanyoko!" N'Jobu shot back using his fingers to tap his tongue as a counter insult towards Jax's mother's private parts.

The other guys laughed and balled their fists up to their mouths at the bickering of two best friends.

"She said she had it covered. What can I say? I was doing it and thinking she would handle all of that. She's a noble. Those women should know better. Plus, she just got divorced. Ikaka, it might be her ex-husband's," Jax said.

"She keeping it?" N'Jobu asked.

"She can't."

"What if she does? What are you going to do?"

Jax sipped on a bottle of beer.

"She's not having it. I'll make sure she doesn't."

"She can get a DNA test you know," N'Jobu said.

"Not my problem. Plus, I hear her ex wants her back."

"Man, still…wouldn't you want to know if the child is yours? I mean if she keeps it, and it's yours, won't your families want legitimacy?"

"Ohhh, noooo, don't try to put that marriage yoke around my neck. You're the guy that has to get tied down for King and country! Filial obedience!" Jax hollered, slapping N'Jobu on his back.

N'Jobu only stared at Jax in disbelief.

"How many of your choices came to that dinner tonight?" Jax asked.

"We are talking about you, not me."

"Let's stop talking about him. I don't think she's pregnant anyway. I saw pictures of her drinking here last week for a birthday party. Pregnant women don't drink," said Odwa, His twin brother Paki was nodding his head.

"I saw those pictures too. She's playing you Jax," Paki said.

A popular song blasted the conversation and Jax jumped up shaking his hips, his thin twisted locs bouncing around his head.

"This is our cue, gentlemen. Our Prince has returned from fucking American women…don't roll your eyes at me N'Jobu, we know you! Odwa, look at his face, he's sitting here trying to act like he's been a good schoolboy in America."

"I know your comm tab has been blowing up since you got home. Who has been calling you to split them open before you go back, eh?" Paki said.

"Let's go dance, this is the song!" Their friend Chisulo said, dropping his body low and twisting his feet to the massive bass rumbling throughout the club.

Sekani, N'Jobu's third cousin on his mother's side took a long drag from a bottle of peach vodka. He wiped his mouth after drinking and stared at N'Jobu, his bald head shiny under the club lights. "Cousin, let's go," he said.

N'Jobu stood up and followed them as they walked past several elite sections. As N'Jobu sauntered through, he felt eager eyes on him and saw people giving head nods out of respect for his presence. Before they reached the stairs, he had to stop and use the restroom.

"I'll meet you guys down there," he said.

His Dora Milaje were discreet, but still watching his movements closely.

After relieving himself in the restroom, N'Jobu circled around towards the stairs.

"Prince N'Jobu!"

N'Jobu's head snapped to his right and he saw Zinzi and a group of women sitting in their own section. He recognized several of the women, their parents had eaten with him at the palace earlier.

Zinzi wore white skin-tight pants and a white leather corset top that showed off her ample bosom. N'Jobu didn't feel any shame when he let his eyes dip low to check out her breasts. She wasn't shy about showing them off. Oba Oba's was the place to see and be seen. She caught his reckless eye-balling and smiled.

"Zinzi," he said, stepping to her. He reached for her hand and kissed it. The women with her watched him with fierce sparkling eyes.

"Hello Ladies, you all look amazing," he said, acknowledging them. The one sitting closest to him, a pretty woman with dimples and a baby afro who he didn't recognize, kept biting her lip as she gazed at him.

"How come you didn't come over to my section?" he asked, placing his hand over his heart and pretending to look offended.

"You looked like you were in deep conversation with your friends. I didn't want to disturb your reunion."

"You disturb me? Never! Come, dance with me," he said, clasping her hand in his. He felt her fingers squeeze his a little. Her friends looked gobsmacked by how familiar he was acting with Zinzi, his informal Wakandan inflections scandalous to their ears. She did ask him to be seen with her so that the gossip could get back to her lover.

"Sure, your Highness," she said.

"Ladies, excuse us please," he said.

He led Zinzi down the stairs and through a boisterous crowd of dancers. They both could feel more covetous eyes on them. Zinzi's fingers felt warm and smooth interlaced with his, quite comfortable in fact.

He could see his boys throwing down already with women who were serving them hips and dips. The music was funky and not for the rhythmically challenged.

N'Jobu wasted no time grabbing Zinzi's waist. She was already tossing her ass back at him in that slow teasing way that women from this part of town were famous for doing. One leg up and bent, then the other lifted, bent at the knee, tiny steps alternating left to right, hip twisting, ass cheeks jiggled in precise isolations. River tribe women were known for those type of moves, but a dance craze that caught on a year ago filtered over into Birnin Zana from that region. Now everyone was doing it.

N'Jobu had to create an artificial barrier between him and Zinzi. Yes, he was connected to a woman in the States, and yes, he was committed to being faithful to her, but he was also a man who had a body that reacted to fine women. And Zinzi was fine as Ethiopian honey wine. When her ass got too close to his groin, he made sure not to press into her.

She turned around and raised her hands in the air, and that was a problem because now he could not stop looking at her chest and the way her breasts bounced to the music. He quickly forced himself to keep dancing but focused his eyes elsewhere as if he were taking in all the sights and sounds of the club.

A popular song called "Zana Highlife" came on, and N'Jobu really cut loose with Zinzi. She was fun to dance with and actually kept up with him.

"You're good, Prince N'Jobu!" she said, moving around him.

He smiled at her as he worked his shoulders in time with his hips.

"Okay your Highness, I see you!" she called out, trying to match his moves.

They partied to five songs and then N'Jobu took her hand and walked her over to a bar and ordered drinks for them. All the drinks were on the house for him. He asked for two house wines, and when they arrived, he took them and had Zinzi follow him to an open table in a booth. The other tables near them were empty because people were on the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Yejide and Ometeko positioning themselves near him. No one would bother them at the table or in this section.

Sipping their white wine, N'Jobu kept eyeing Zinzi. She might actually be the one for his family's legacy. They got along so far as adults. He had known her when they were kids, but that was a long time ago. She was a woman now. An amazing one.

They did a little small talk about her current work organizing counseling for mental health and advocating for geriatric outreach. They spoke of his education and the excitement of the new royal baby. He showed her pictures of his friends in California on his comm tab. Always group shot photos, and usually he was in the back of the pictures trying to be obscure. He made sure not to show her any photos that he had of Califia and him together. Those were his private stash, mostly selfies of them kissing.

Califia seemed to adore photos of them tonguing each other down. Kissing between them was almost as good as intercourse. It had turned into a necessary extended act of foreplay that he enjoyed very much, especially when paired with his licking her all over from her front to her back. They once had an intense kissing session on her grandmother's couch when everyone had gone to bed. Califia had worked him up so bad that when they stopped twisting their lips and tongues together after forty minutes, he had soaked a section of his pants with pre-cum and he thought he had ejaculated because the stain was so big.

"Any girlfriends out there in America?" Zinzi asked.

"No," he said sipping on his wine, hoping his face didn't betray him.

"But you are seeing women, right?"

"Yeah. I date. But school is pretty intense."

"I hear you're a top student."

"Always. That's an Udaku trait."

"Okay, I guess," she said.

"You and Captain Gcuma…?"

He was curious.

"You were great tonight. Thank you."

"So, what's the deal with that? Why don't you two just get married? I can tell he is into you. He looked shocked when he saw me stepping up."

"My parents. He's older. Divorced. No children. They think being divorced is a sign of bad character and because he never had children with his wife, he must be infertile."

"Who was he married to?"

"Wananeya Duzi."

"The Duzi family? Whoa. How'd he screw that up?"

Zinzi punched his leg.

"Be nice. He fell in love with me."

"You were messing around with a married man?"

"They were separated for three years before he and I…"

"I understand," N'Jobu said.

"I was finishing up my military stint. He was my commanding officer. He just…we just…"

"Easy, Zinzi. You don't have to explain. The picture is clear."

"To be fair, he is descended from the Oni family. His mother is an Oni. He has noble blood."

"But the whole divorce, and maybe him being a lot older is an issue, eh?"

"Yes. But I don't care. My family wants to be in the palace. You know this. But I'm in love. I just want to get married and make that man some babies."

"Does he want to marry you?"

"I know he does. But he's scared to ask. Scared of losing his rank if my family goes after him because they disapprove. That's why I asked you to be seen with me openly. I want him to see that he could lose me. I want him to get a taste of seeing me with someone else."

"And that's supposed to do what? Make him propose?"

"Yes!"

"Well, if I were him, I would say screw the military and elope with you."

Zinzi's face lit up. "Yeah?"

"Of course. Look at you. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. You remind me a lot of my…."

He caught himself.

"I remind you of what?"

He sipped from his wine glass. Her eyes got big.

"You have a girlfriend, don't you? In the States."

"Keep this to yourself."

Zinzi studied his face.

"What?" he said.

"I knew something was up with you."

N'Jobu quirked his lips like she was talking nonsense.

"No, really. I noticed something about you when you were at the dinner. You seemed preoccupied but in a good way. And the way you are in this club right now, with all these beautiful women? I know for sure that when I throw this ass back on a man, they try to catch it. Are you in love, Prince N'Jobu?"

He sat back in the booth seat and sighed.

"Yes. I am."

Zinzi smiled.

"Can I see a picture of her?"

"You must keep this to yourself," he said.

"I've told you my deepest darkest secret that I don't want anyone to know about. You can trust me. I'm not looking for trouble."

N'Jobu pulled up one of his favorite photos of him and Califia together. She is straddling his lap and looking up at his cell phone while he is kissing her cheek. His eyes are closed and his arms are around her and squeezing her tight. Her hair is a big thick ball of fury and her freckles are so vivid on her face. But it's her smile that melts him. Those luscious lips. Her teeth. That cheeky twinkle in her eye. The love of his life at this moment.

"My Bast, Prince N'Jobu. She is striking. No wonder…no wonder."

Zinzi is quiet and they both watch the crowd dance. N'Jobu can see his buddies still cutting up, the life of the party on the dance floor.

"Do your parents know about her?" Zinzi finally asks.

"No one. It's a new relationship. I've dated a lot over there. But this…this is something…I don't even know how to act sometimes. I mean, that girl…that girl has got me. What's crazy is, I wasn't even looking for this. I was happy just screwing around…and then, I don't know… something changed. I've never felt like this before, Zinzi. And it bothers me. It weighs on me. Because I can't keep her. I have fallen in love with someone for the first time in my life, and it's with a foreigner. I can never bring her here, and I can never stay there. I'm fucked."

He hadn't meant to lay all of that at Zinzi's feet. But it felt good talking to Zinzi. She made him feel open and trusting. She reached out her hand and cradled his fingers in hers.

"Your secret is safe with me. Although our situations are different, I do understand what you are going through."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a half smile.

"What time is it over there now? You should call her."

"It's around five."

"Call her," Zinzi said getting up, "I'm going to rejoin my friends for a bit."

She hesitated for a moment.

"Zinzi?"

"Before you leave, make sure we talk again. There's something I want to hip you to. A rumor you should be aware of."

"Okay. Is it about me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Give me a few minutes. I'll come find you."

She nodded and eased back into the crowd.

Tapping his comm tab and placing his earbuds on, N'Jobu hit Califia's cell number.

"Filter background," N'Jobu whispered, and the earbuds worked on blocking out much of the loud music and background voices. It was pretty loud, but he hoped the noise reduction filter would do enough so he wouldn't have to move.

He almost gave up on the ninth ring when he heard her pick.

"N'Jobu!" she exclaimed, and the excitement in her voice made him close his eyes.

"Califia," he said, his voice a gentle whisper.

"How is everything? Is your family thrilled to have you back? What's the weather like—"

"Califia, I love you too."

The music in the background was still a little loud and he thought she didn't hear him.

"Baby?" he said looking down at his fingers. They were trembling.

"I wanted to tell you before you left. But I chickened out. I was going to wait until you came back home to me and tell you in person. But…it just came out like that, and maybe, I dunno, maybe I was scared to say it in person—" she said.

"Say it to me now," he said.

"I love you, N'Jobu. I love the hell out of you."

He released a loud exhalation of breath. He let his eyes drift across the dancers and the bright lights and the wonderful chaos that was his favorite club. His friends were at the bar lifting their drinks to him, their smiles wide and grateful that he was here with them once more. But at this moment, his heart and mind were far away.

"I think I have loved you since the first time I saw you, Califia. When you touched my hand that first time…when you were checking out my bracelet…you looked up at me and …and there was something in your eyes that just caught me. Baby, this is so new to me. But I will do my best to make you happy. Okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered, her voice trembling over the call.

"I'm going to be thinking of you every day here."

"Same."

"I'm hanging out with my friends right now. We're at a club, and it looks like we're about to hit the dance floor again. Or drink some more I'm guessing. They are holding up shot glasses for me."

"Get off this phone and go have fun!"

Her laughter thrilled him. He would survive this trip. He didn't miss the fact that she had said coming back home to her. She was home. She was where he wanted to be.

"My schedule is going to be a bitch, so I may not be able to get at you until a few days from now."

"Maybe we can face chat next time?"

"I'll try to make that happen. A lot of political stuff is happening and my family is involved, so my time is really messed up. I'm glad to be back. Everyone is well."

"Good," she said.

"Talk soon?"

"Yeah."

He heard her give him a big wet kiss over the phone and then the call was done.

A stirring of confidence filled up his chest and he strolled over to his boys with a serious dip in his step.

###

After spending time at the bar drinking, N'Jobu let his friends return to the dance floor as he bounded up the steps of V.I.P.

He found Zinzi talking with her friends in her private section and he spirited her away to his V.I.P. section where they could be alone together.

"Spill it," he said, fingering a glass of water.

Zinzi tossed her braids over her shoulder.

"There has been talk about you and Princess Bathandwa. The entire country knows your family wants an heir. Everyone also knows that your brother and sister-in-law have been trying for awhile to have a baby."

"So? What does that have to do with me?"

Zinzi's eyes went downcast. She fidgeted with an ornate ruby ring on her index finger.

"There's a story going around that when Princess Bathandwa went to visit New York last June with the Women's Delegation, you flew there to see her because a month after she returned, it was announced she was a few weeks pregnant."

N'Jobu thought back to June. Bathandwa was part of a global women's movement to help neonatal health in so-called Third World countries. They were having a big conference near the U.N. and Bathandwa was giving a speech on African women's progress in East Africa. It was part of Wakanda's political maneuverings in the outside world, feigning the appearance of being a struggling nation with health issues.

During that time, N'Jobu had been messing around with a dish water blonde who taught at Mills College, a professor who he met at a university mixer who talked so much shit to N'Jobu that made him think she was cool that he ended up rearranging her guts in her apartment until he realized later in the situationship that she had a fetish for Black men. Especially dark-skinned men like him who had prowess in bed.

He had screwed the professor and missed a flight to JFK airport where he was to meet Bathandwa and her delegation for a quick hi and bye over dinner. They never met up and she flew home right after her speech.

"We never saw each other," N'Jobu said.

Zinzi shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. She leaves Wakanda after years of trying and comes back announcing a baby on the way. People started talking. There's also your reputation too."

"What is my reputation, hmm?"

"Playboy. Heartbreaker. Party monster. Womb wrecker."

"Womb wrecker? Damn."

"Listen, the people love that about you. No offense, but Prince T'Chaka is like the uptight country Uncle, and you are like everyone's favorite city nephew. They're going to talk."

"How long has this rumor been going?"

"Honestly, at first, it was like a big joke, you know, the stuff people say to poke fun of nobles. But then it started gaining traction, and I am afraid it has reached the ears of the palace. I am quite sure your brother is aware of it."

N'Jobu drank his water and pondered her words.

"I noticed tonight that Princess Bathandwa is very affectionate with you."

"And?"

"You may want to be very careful of how you two interact, especially during this time of the coronation. I do not mean to be rude, but people are watching you closely, and not just because of the betrothal march. Some people really believe that her baby is yours."

"Great," he said sighing heavily.

"This will pass. The good thing is, you will return to the States, and once the baby is born, everyone will see that the royal couple finally received the child they have been praying for."

"Let us hope so," he said, "any other gossip I should know about?"

"Your friend Jax, he is not the father of the baby that Yasmin is having. Your other friend Odwa is."

"Oh, shit."

"I know. You did not hear it from me."

"Hey…I talked to my girlfriend."

"Good. How is she?"

N'Jobu beamed.

"She sounded great."

"You are so cute when you are in love. Just all teeth right now."

N'Jobu smiled wider, then stared at Zinzi with a more somber expression. He rubbed his chin.

"Can I ask you something else, and be honest with me?"

"Go ahead."

N'Jobu glanced around to make sure they were still afforded privacy.

"In your opinion, how are the people taking the change. Are they for or against my brother?"

Zinzi's eyes squinted a bit and she pressed her lips together.

"From what I gather, and this is coming from my parents and other nobles, the change is viewed as a good thing among people under forty. It's the older people who are not thrilled. They are accustomed to our Kings and Queens ruling until they drop dead. No offense, your Highness."

"None taken."

"People generally like Prince T'Chaka. He has a level head, but, some feel that his crowning should come later when he is more mature. How do you feel about it?"

"It seems fast to me. But I will trust my father's judgment."

"It lessens your time being a playboy I bet," she joked.

"Look whose showing teeth now," N'Jobu said.

"You know they weren't going to let you dangle out here for long."

"Lady Zinzi!"

Jax stepped back into the V.I.P. along with the rest of N'Jobu's crew. Zinzi stood and greeted all the guys.

"I'll see you later, Prince N'Jobu."

"I'll call you for lunch."

"Do that," she said, leaving their private space.

Jax and the others watched Zinzi's hips sway as she walked around to rejoin her party.

"Sekmet in heaven. Please tell me you are choosing her, N'Jobu," Odwa said.

"I have tried for years to get that woman to look at me. I think she's stuck up," Jax said, grabbing his crotch in a crude manner.

N'Jobu thought about asking his friends about the rumor, but if it were that serious, one of them would've pulled his coattails by now.

All he knew was that if what she said was true, and the rumor had reached T'Chaka, that may be part of his stress besides becoming King.

The guys were ordering more rounds of shots, and the music was getting hotter.

He'd worry about T'Chaka later.

###

N'Jobu rolled back into the palace way after six in the morning.

He sent his mother a message that he would not be joining the family for brunch, but would be sleeping in before attending the planned evening outing, the opening of a brand-new opera in the West Zana district. The royal family would be having dinner at a chic new restaurant so that the press and paparazzi could get pictures. One of his other top picks for the betrothal march would be joining them for dinner and attending the opera with the family.

Once inside his suite, N'Jobu showered, slathered his body in freshly made cocoa butter, and sat inside his sauna to let the rich body butter soak into his skin. His limbs felt sore and heavy from dancing long and late. He was proud that he wasn't hung over.

The heat softened his skin and he ran his hands up his thighs massaging his muscles. A viewscreen popped up on the glass of the sauna door, and N'Jobu stood up from the wooden bench of the sauna to check it. He forgot he had set a reminder alarm for himself to go jogging in the royal garden.

He reset the alarm for the next day, changed his mind, and set it for later in the afternoon. His wet fingers slid across the screen as he checked for messages. He opened an app for his computer and looked for his private Califia folder. The heat of the sauna woke up his skin. He ran his hand across his pecs, then double tapped the folder. He searched for a particular clip that he filmed with his kimoyo beads. He saw the thumbnail for the clip he wanted and tapped it.

Califia.

As big as life, projected into the sauna in full 3D.

She's on her knees facing him, naked on his bedroom floor. She has her hands on her breasts. He hears himself tell her to play with her tits, and she does, her eyes watching him. He feels bad for a second because it's the only clip he has of her face, and he wasn't trying to film it, he just got caught in the moment and he wasn't using his cell to tape, so the kimoyo beads captured everything.

N'Jobu stepped back from the projected image and just watched, his hands at his sides, the steam in the sauna causing Califia's image to look real. He watched her hands slide up her waist, circle around her stomach and then reach her chest. Her fingers toyed with her nipples first, and N'Jobu fought the urge to touch himself. He simply wanted to observe her.

She pushed her breasts together once her nipples hardened, and he felt his dick stir, blood rushed to help thicken it.

"Turn around, face down. Show me that ass," he said in the video.

Califia pivoted and crossed her arms on the carpet and laid her head on her hands, right on top of a pillow that was on the floor. Her ass sat up in front of him.

"Arch that back," his video voice commanded, and she used those dancer skills that trained her body to bend with complete control to pop that ass up higher. Her thighs parted and her ass cheeks separated enough so that her pussy was visible to him.

In the sauna, N'Jobu was weakened, his cock jutted out more as his eyelids drooped from the blessing that sat before him.

"Hhhhmm….baby," he slipped between his gritted teeth. The bulb of his cock was fully fleshed out. He reached his hand up above his head towards a shelf that housed a small black box. He reached inside the box just when Califia's right hand reached between her legs and rubbed tight counterclockwise circles on her clit.

"Oooooohmmm…" N'Jobu groaned as his dick bobbed. It felt so heavy.

"Let me see those hands," N'Jobu commanded on video, and Califia pressed her face on the pillow. Both her hands reached back and pulled open her cheeks. Her fingernails were painted a satiny dark maroon, and they looked so pretty against her skin.

N'Jobu moaned again when he saw her opening give a small spasm and he saw her tasty pink pussy gap open wider. This woman is fucking art, he thought. There should be paintings of this fat juicy vulva throbbing open on museum walls. This is why men waged wars for centuries. Just to have the power to control this pulsing, throbbing, dripping wet and divine thing. Looking at Califia, even in a digitized state, he knew what a living Goddess looked like.

"Babb..byy…" he stuttered, slipping his fingers out of the black box and pulling out the item he needed. A red cock ring.

He slipped the red band over his dick and rolled it all the way around his balls. His sack was very sensitive when he touched it, and when he released his balls, they felt massive hanging from him even with the new constriction placed on them.

"Jobu…Jobu…" Califia was panting out his name.

"Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't you let go," he said out loud to himself in the sauna as he stroked his erection, the shaft slick from the cocoa butter and steam, his stomach muscles taut, and his pecs flexing from the strain.

"Please….please…Jobu…fuck me…" she begged, spreading her cheeks wider.

"Shit…"

N'Jobu reached back into the box and pulled out a silver glans ring and twisted it around the girth of his frenulum. When he released it, he felt his glans swell more. He stopped touching his erection and just watched Califia begging for his dick. It was torture, an excruciating test of self-control. The more she begged for his cock, the more his dick jumped. He used his own muscles to make his dick move, the sweet pain of the cock rings constricting him building up his intense pleasure.

He watched himself slap Califia's sensitive clit with his hand, sharp strikes that made her yelp as he watched her own body's natural lubricant ooze out of her glistening center.

"Dammit," he muttered, watching her squirm and not touching himself.

He watched himself move into the scene and grab her waist, slowly sinking his cock into her pussy. N'Jobu found himself being even more turned on watching his own dick placate his woman who had been begging and pleading for that moment of entry. Now he was listening to her cry out in pleasure as he forced her to keep that back arched by pressing one hand down on her lower back.

"Jobu…huhhnn…s'deep…hmmmmnn…you in so deep…s'deep…fuck…DADDY…you in there…you in there…"

She was wailing and squirming harder, but he kept his dick deep inside her with a repetitive short slow thrust. The movement made his balls just smash softly against her clit.

N'Jobu began to stroke his erection, because now what he was waiting for was coming up soon. He watched himself jump from doggy to froggy style as he kept that agonizing deep thrust. Califia was lying back on her hands again, trying her best not to collapse from overstimulation and no release. His balls would press into her clit and she would wiggle to try and get the friction to offset her orgasm, but the swivel in N'Jobu's hips prevented that. He was torturing her on purpose.

And he was torturing his real self too as he watched. He gripped his cock tight. A thick stream of pre-cum spilled out in a long clear drizzle down to the sauna floor. His climax was in sight. He watched himself plunge down deeper into Califia and hold still.

"Cum on this dick!" his video self barked at her.

Califia's ass jiggled and then he watched her entire vulva spasm and pulse around his cock.

N'Jobu's eyes shut tight as he shot hot ropes of cum onto the glass door of the sauna. His voice bellowed and grunted freely in the soundproof space as he coated the door with so much cum, it looked like someone had thrown a glass of milk on it.

When his eyes opened, he caught the last part of the video where he pulled out of Califia with his jizz spilling behind him from the release.

He leaned against the glass and gulped in as much air as he could, but he had to exit the sauna because it wasn't enough to revive his breath with the heated air going into his desperate lungs.

He pulled off the cock rings and dropped them on the sink in the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror and saw his blown pupils gazing back at him.

"Shit!" he yelled out, trying to gain his composure as he gripped the edges of the marble sink.

He staggered into his room and flopped onto his bed, still winded.

He fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Chapter 21 HERE

Read “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” from the beginning here.

[cannibalisticshadows]

Don’t Be An Ass (Part II)

>>Prologue Here<<

Taurs were valuable as spun gold.

People could make so much money off just one of these powerful beasts without so much as a lick of training. They were strong, resilient, and went up and beyond the accomplishments of any animal—or human. With the upper torso of a man and the body of a hooved creature, any workingman was lucky to have at least one. Communication was easy between humans and Taurs, too, making things so much more uncomplicated, unlike working with a normal work animal.

“Taur” was a wide name for a range of human-equidae hybrids: centaurs, onocentaurs, cervitaurs, even the rarely seen ichthyocentaur.

Only four people in the entire town of Blacksgrove owned a Taur—all of them centaurs.

There was Mr. LeFou and his prided Gaston, a strapping stallion that galloped around town flashing off his numerous skills. Across town there was Mr. King and his two Taurs: James, a showy stallion with a dark-blonde hair, and David, James’s chivalrous twin brother. Down past the church there was Mr. Duke and his stallion: Hordor, a black-coated stallion with a terrifyingly self-righteous attitude.

And finally there was Mayor Mills, who had the fifth and only female Taur in Blacksgrove: Zelena, a ruddy mare with a bossy, controlling streak.

As far as Belle knew about Taurs in Blacksgrove, they were a prideful, powerful race. All of the town’s centaurs were hard to get along with, in her opinion, except David, who was kind and polite to everyone.

From this, it was clear centaurs could possess personalities as complex as humans—it was no secret centaurs could be companions as well as bondsmen.

Belle breathed in a mighty breath and let it out with a determined sigh. True, she and her father had no money to spare, but once they did make money (a Taur would no doubt help to do that) monthly payments could be carried out. Patting her hat down firmer on her head, Belle strolled down the dirt road beside the barren fields of farmland, speckled trees dotting the horizon. Down the road stood town, where she could see the hustle and bustle of a busy day.

They lived on the edge of the town on the hill—outcasts, even before the farm’s decline.

By the time Belle reached town, the sun was high in the sky and people hurried about in their afternoon wear. Ladies carried umbrellas as their big skirts bobbed on their hips, with men tipping their hats in greeting. Men leaving or returning to the mines lumbered by with sun-tanned faces and dirty hands, pushing carts of tools or goods by with panting mules. Cowboys trotted by on calm, docile horses and spat out chewing tobacco as they rode past. One in particular clicked his tongue in greeting, pulling his hat off to hold over his heart. “Good afta’noon, ma’am.”

“Evening, mister!”

Belle was overly aware of how the townspeople stared. In her baggy trousers, dirtied and worn dress shirt, blue fraying bodice, tight belt, and wide-brimmed hat, she looked so odd amongst the community. Like a leper, the townspeople tended to steer clear of her. Only outsiders treated her normally, or those who weren’t even human.

“Hey, Belle, lookin’ good.” Speak of the Devil. Gaston, LeFou’s Taur, greeted her in his deep, penetrating voice as he trotted up beside her. He was so tall compared to Belle, towering over her that her head barely came to his human-waist. His hair, tail, legs, and hooves were black as night; his horse-coat shined a rusty red-brown in the sunlight, and his twitching, bulging muscles moved so noticeably under his skin. Strapped with a shiny golden buckle around his lower body were sacks of goods, most likely produce from his handler’s farm. The Taurs often came to town with things to sell or deliver.

“Hello Gaston,” Belle replied with a nod. “Where is your handler?”

“That bumbling buffoon?” The stallion groused before tossing his head back in a hearty chuckle. Turning back to her, he clenched his arm muscles, just like any man would went trying to emphasis his strength. “No idea, madam. Where’s a lovely girl like you headed off to on this fine, sunny day?”

“I’m actually looking to acquire a Taur myself. How did LeFou come to be your handler?”

He pursed his lips in thought. “Beats me,” he said, flicking his long black tail. “Some company that breeds us. The mayor has connections.”

“Oh, thank you! That helps a lot.”

“Glad to be of help,” Gaston leered, and abruptly sped up to veer in front of her, blocking her path with the side of his body. Her head could barely see over his horse-back. But now that she was facing him this way, she could visibly see his cock protruding out of its sheath. It wasn’t the first time he flashed himself in public. “You know, Belle, I can lend a hand at your farm. No need for another centaur! I’m sure LeFou won’t mind—“

“Thank you but no thank you,” she said tersely, pivoting on her feet to maneuver around him. “I need to talk to Mayor Mills as soon as possible.”

Gaston gracefully skipped to follow, his galloping hooves audible against the dusty ground. “Are you free later? Maybe we can ride down to the river—“

“Do you have time? I imagine LeFou is looking for you—Oh look, there he is now!”

It wasn’t that she was afraid of Gaston—he’d always liked to talk to her. Before Philippe’s death, the centaur had been a bit annoying, actually, but she had always preferred the company of creature over human—and Taurs were fascinating. Now with everyone avoiding her, she managed to welcome the company of Blacksgrove’s centaurs. Just a little, at least. But right now Belle had a mission, and letting Gaston chat her up was not on the agenda today.

Gaston turned his head around to look, eyes scanning the crowd keenly. Seeing him fooled as he looked for his squat, nervous handler, Belle darted off and took a short cut behind the saloon, where one of the working girls on the porch waved her lacy handkerchief at Belle. They knew how desperate she and her father was.

A man trying to tie luggage to his horse cussed as she nearly ran into him, shouting curses as she continued on. Boots scrapping the earth, pumping her legs to go as fast as possible, she then leapt up over a fence. One hand on her hat, the other suspended midair to keep balance. Her jump was smooth, but her landing was not, and she lost her balance once her feet hit the ground. Stumbling, she rammed into a wagon. It jostled a bit as she hit it.

“Och!” A man yelled in surprise, waddling over as she fell backwards onto her rump. She landed with a loud humph, wincing as her hands scratched small sun-heated pebbles and rocks.

“Sorry,” Belle apologized, pulling herself up with an embarrassed look. She wiped dust off her pants, willing her blush to die down. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Clearly,” the man snapped. “Why ya runnin’? Lass like ya, should have a damn steed tae rod.”

The man was old, she studied, with shifty, clouded eyes and well wrinkled features. He was balding in most placed atop his head. Besides that, he spoke with a foreign accent Belle had never heard before. “I’m actually looking to get one.”

“Humph.” His eyes looked her up and down. The old man opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to change his mind and shut it. “Ye best get along, then.”

Uninterested to stay anyway, Belle brushed off her hat, sat it back on her head, and continued on.

Swerving around the man’s covered wagon, she readied to bolt again across the street, until she reached Town Hall. But something made her pause.

Inside of the arched wagon, through the yellowed cotton cover, she saw something move. It was dark inside, giving her little freedom to inspect the goods the old man had, but she saw something shift in the shadows, and the soft sigh of something… something alive.

“Wit’ya standing for? Get!”

Scrambling, Belle forced her curiosity aside and carried on.

~.~.~.~

“I’m sorry but the mayor’s busy,” Zelena said with deep exasperation, rolling her eyes. The ginger mare tossed her long hair back as she barely gave Belle a second glance. A tight green and black bodice and dress shirt clung to the mare’s upper torso.

“But—“

“Belle,” the mare snapped, “you better go before I have to kick you out!“

Town Hall was smack-dab in the middle of town. It was a nice building compared to the rest of town, and was built with stone instead of wood. Meetings could be held here, and Mills had her office here, too. Zelena, Mill’s mare centaur, was more or less a secretary for the mayor. Belle was confronted with the Taur the moment she walked into the building.

“It’s important,” Belle insisted, trying to move around the ginger. The Taur, though, was graceful on her hooves and prevented Belle from getting to the mayor’s office. “I really need to speak with—“

“What’s this about?”

Belle and Zelena’s heads jerked to the interrupter. Mayor Mills, dressed impeccably as ever, stood at the entrance to her office with her arms crossed. The raven-haired woman turned to her Taur, and then to Belle.

“Miss French.”

“Madam Mayor.”

Mills glanced over the younger woman’s head, behind her. Wrinkling her nose, she turned back to Belle. “You come alone. State your business, then.”

Zelena huffed loud, smirking proudly. “She was just leaving—“

“Quiet, girl,” Mills ordered with a clear demand. “Leave us and go pick up the things I needed from the market.” Instantly, the mare shut her mouth. Her eyes, though, glared with hate. Shooting Belle one last judgmental dagger, the red mare turned around and departed the room with a sassy flick of her tail.

“Thank you, Ma—“

“Come on, Miss French, I don’t have all day,” the woman said with an impatient wave of her hand. Like a dog called to its master, Belle beamed and followed the mayor into the office. Once inside Mills shut the door, and ordered Belle to take a seat.

She poured a tumbler of whiskey, and was generous enough to offer Belle one. She took it graciously.

“Now,” Mills said, sitting down at her desk as she adjusted her black day dress. “Tell me why you’ve come. Is it money troubles again? I expected that from your father, my dear, not you.”

Belle swallowed guiltily. It didn’t surprise her that Moe went around begging. “I’m not asking for money, madam. I’m looking into getting a Taur.”

Mills’s honey eyes shot up in surprise. Without a word, she set her tumbler down and reached into her desk drawer, where she drew out a thin cigar. Cutting the end off and striking a match to light it, she breathed out a big breath of gray smoke in Belle’s direction. Coughing, the russet-haired girl waved her hand to blow the smoke away.

“A Taur. And you’ve come to me? Do you—actually have money for that?”

“No, but, I can pay more than it’s worth at a later date—“

Mills flicked her hand in a dismissive manner. “I’ve heard several deals for Taurs in this town. A lot of people are waiting for a purebred, didn’t you know?”

“Yes. I’m not looking for perfection, though. I want something that can work.”

The mayor took another huff of her cigar, seated on her chair like a queen on her throne. “You and many others.”

“Please!” Belle begged, pushing her chair back as she shoot up. Mills didn’t do so much as blink. “My farm—we can’t pay rent, and—“ her lower lip wobbled. “We need the help!”

Mills gave her a hard, serious stare. Her fingers began to tap rhythmically on the desk.

“Miss French, sit down. I know what you’re afraid of.”

“Y-You do?”

Sitting her cigar in a little ash dish, the raven-haired woman sat back and threaded her fingers together. “The life of a working girl isn’t so hard, my dear. You’d certainly make more money than you do now.”

Belle slammed the palm of her hand on the desk. Mills shot her a disapproving look—of which Belle ignored. “I don’t want to be a working girl! I can’t!”

A heavy silence hung in the air. Belle’s hand trembled in emotion as her heart beat furiously within her chest, piercing her eyes with the threat of tears. It terrified her just thinking of selling her body. And it wasn’t just the idea of having sex with strangers, either. It was the thought of her father, and his greasy drunken smirk, and fulfilling his claim that she would never be more useful than being a good fuck. She was brave enough to admit that she was scared. Very scared.

Mills picked up her cigar and took another huff. Closing her eyes, she seemed to be thinking hard. After a moment, she reopened them and looked at Belle.

“I… may know of something.”

Belle’s head jerked up so fast it made the room spin.

“But I’m not sure it would be easy—“

“I’ll take anything you give,” Belle said with all the determination she could muster, “I don’t care if it’s the ugliest Taur in the world. I just need one. Anyone.”

Still frozen since Belle so passionately interrupted her, Mills softly closed her mouth tilted her head to the side. “…I’d say more, but I think you’ve already made up your mind.”

Hope swelled in her chest. “Yes! Yes! Whatever you’re offering, I’ll take it! I promise to pay back when I can! Double it!”

“Fine, then. Don’t listen to me,” she said flatly as she pulled out a contract from her desk. “The Taur I have in mind—Miss French, please know you can’t return it like something at the market. Taurs are living creatures.”

“I know,” Belle said, nodding furiously. “I tend to treat he or she as such. With respect.”

“Sometimes respect doesn’t cut it, my dear,” Mills said, fixing her ink pen. “Have you worked with a Taur before?”

“No, but—“

The mayor let out a sad, dark laugh. She scribbled on the paper, and set the pen down to fold it up. Tucking it into an envelope, she gave Belle a haughty look. “You better read up then, Miss French. Especially for him.”

“H-Him? Oh, you already know the Taur? What’s his name—?“

“It’s irrelevant,” she said snippily, “this Taur is nothing state-of-the-art.”

“I don’t mind.”

“He’s a bit lame, actually. Fairly aged. No spring chicken.”

It bothered Belle a bit that Mills spoke of the Taur as if it was a used wagon for sell. But she pushed that aside and focused on the potential blessing at hand. This was more than Belle had hopped for! She should be overjoyed! “Oh, thank you, madam! Thank you!” Without giving the woman so much as a warning, Belle jumped up and went around the mayor’s desk, where she gave the other a bone-crushing hug. The mayor smelled like apples.

“Okay, I get it—!“ She struggled out of Belle’s hug, shooting the girl a confused, slightly irked look. Turning away, Mills brushed down her clothes as if to wipe of dust. “Warn me before attacking, please.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Now,” the mayor fiddled with the letter. “Go home and think your decision over. Buy plenty of rope. Do you have a crop?”

Belle frowned. Why would she need a riding crop? Granted, they had one with Philippe, but they rarely had to use it. Taurs could speak English—they didn’t need to be whipped. Right? “Um, yes, but—“

“Have it handy.” Mills turned to take a sip of her drink. Once she reset it back down, she added, “And let’s hope you haven’t made a deal you’ll soon regret, Miss French.”

[yuri-purrsetsky]

Add it up if you... (Yuri!!! On Ice edition)

1. Flew to a different continent to chase this cute guy you were drunk dancing with once - $6.00

2. Named your dog after your idol - $2.00

3. Took your dream guy to the top of Barcelona to tell him you've been thinking about him and his soldier’s eyes for 5 years - $5.00

4. Choreographed an entire routine to spite your ex - $5.00

BONUS: named yourself as the EVIL WITCH in the routine - $0.50

5. Got the guy you met 3 days ago to suck your finger on international TV - $4.00

6. Made the ultimate dream collaboration of music and sport culminating in The Theme of King JJ - $10.00

7. Snuck into a club while underaged - $4.00

8. Stripped and pole danced at a banquet - $3.00

9. Slicked back your hair and made Eros your bitch - $2.00

10. Was unable to resist posting a selfie and giving your location away - $5.00

11. Thought Otabek Altin was hot (this is the freebie on the board because everyone and their mothers thinks Otabek Altin is hot) - $1.00

12. Ceased to be Human - $10.00

13. Orgasmed on the ice - $7.00

14. Jump kicked someone across the room - $3.00

15. Have a tag for your bulge - $4.00

16. Invented katsudon pirozhki because you are the best grandpa in the world what a treasure you are Nikolai - $20.00

17. Wear your sunglasses on your head like a total asshole - minus $0.50

18. Dressed like a rainbow bird and/or feather duster unironically - $3.00

19. Like music - $0.50

20. Don’t like hot pot - $1.00

21. Totally definitely don’t have a giant crush on your twin sister what are you talking about - minus $10.00

22. Are an assassin in Shanghai's seedy underbelly but this is your last job - $3.00

23. Ate too many buns OH NO - minus $0.25

24. Dumped a hockey player - $3.00

25. Have an undercut - $0.10

26. Can bench press Yuri Plisetsky - $3.00

27. Find food sexy - $2.00

BONUS: compared your sexuality to katsudon - $1.00

28. Dedicated your entire skating season to a movie - $6.00

29. Went bald because all your skaters are Very Extra TM - $7.00

30. Had the most heartwarming airport reunion in all of recorded human history - $9.00

31. Said "Salut" to Stephane Lambiel like it’s nbd - $4.00

32. Cried on the rink - $2.00

33. Have an amazing ass - $3.00

34. Gave your boyfriend something gold and shiny that he feels like kissing - $5.00

35. Were born to make history - $20.00

@kawaiilo-ren and I made a thing because we love YOI too much.

Inspired by this post.

[witchcatyoshiko]

Things were fine for a few months, sometimes I’d feel a burning in my chest but I wrote it off as heartburn and took some medication. But one day the burning was stronger, not painful but persistent; it caught my breath and didn’t let go as it pulled me into myself.

I could feel warmth spread out over my body the more I curled onto myself. The rise in temperature equalized the burn in my temp so I’d all but kissed my own ass before the burn subsided.

“Finally,” a man’s voice called out, agitated and somewhat worn out, “you answered my call.”

I blinked, besides the fact that I’d been in my house alone and had no notion of any device being on that could simulate a male voice, I was actually more concerned that the burn had gone away. It had been an ever present swirl of warmth in my chest that with it complexly gone and my body cool, I wasn’t all too sure my heart was still in my chest anymore.

“Demon!” The man’s voice was instantly annoying, like that entitled business suit man that tries to make his order before getting in line.

I stood but didn’t look up, standing was almost too easy, air would have been heavier to lift. I extended my arms out in front of me, watching my fingers dance without even knowing that’s what I wanted them to do. I exhaled a surprised ‘ha’ and the air vibrated like heat over a barbque grill. I tested the air on my hand but it felt cool, room temperature breath.

“DEMON!” The man was agitated.

I instantly connected eyes with him as I looked up. I had half a mind to tell him off but when I looked up I wasn’t in my home. I was in a flaming circle and I could only see the man through the flames. I was sure there were other people in the room but I wasn’t allowed to see them. The idea that I had to have permission to see someone just floated into my mind, common information like the sky is blue, 2 + 2 = 4. I simply stated, “What do you need?”

“I want the address of Henry Thoren.” The man’s voice quivered only slightly. His face didn’t show his fear but I could still see it. It was a little blue line that danced around his words. He was afraid to look me in the eyes, as big a talk as he walked he didn’t want me to look him in the eyes. He didn’t want me to see him but he had no choice if he wanted to call me.

I smiled, “David, David,David. Is that any way to ask for a favor?” I let my eyes trail off his face to my left. He followed my gaze to the person I couldn’t see, “they sense weakness, David. Can you control me?” My eyes were again on David, my brows furrowed in mock concern, my hands in the large front pocket of my hoodie. The flames dimmed, I could see shadows around him.

Watching David’s face and seeing more thin blue lines wriggle out of him felt delightful. It was almost better than my volunteer work to third world countries, seeing hungry orphans eat because of the work I did. That was all before I got sick, before I got my new heart, before David’s stupid voice calling to me with chicken blood splattered on his second hand button up.

David had never cared for anyone but himself and the people he worked for. I raised a brow, “When have you not been under someone’s thumb, David? Don’t you want to branch out?” I paused, dipping my head with a sneer, “Don’t you want something else?”

David swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to my left again and again and each time the shadow became more and more transparent. I could almost see the shine from the bald head of a big corporate man. I could feel the misery he plagued innocent people with. “Just...” David stammered, he was running out of energy. A chicken’s life could only afford someone so much extra strength, if it could do more farmers would be kings. “Just give me the address.”

I tilted my head, my eyes focusing more on the shiny bald head and the seething red tendrils dancing along with the flames around me. “What’s his name, David?” I asked, making the words fall like stones in front of the now trembling David who couldn’t possibly keep himself standing much less keep me from doing anything I wanted.

“Henry Thoren.” David said feebly.

I shook my head tutting, “No no David, you can do so much better.” I swung my head side to side then all at once shivered. I could feel it breaking. The flames were dying out. I scrunched up my nose, ducking my head into my body as a big shrug, “Just say it, David. I need payment,” I rocked into my top toes then back to my heels, “Super simple, David. Give me what I asked for, SAY I can have it and then,” I smirked, eyes rolling around as the flames began to burst and lower around me, “I’ll give you what you want.” I mocked a pout but I just couldn’t help breaking a smile, it was like I was going to go to my favorite place, with my favorite people, and eat all my favorite foods without having to pay for anything. “David, it won’t do you any good to wait any longer. You won’t like me if I have to wait another minute.”

David was sweating, wet spots expanding from his pits and neck. He grunted and the flames went out all together. I began walking forward, purposefully slowly, heel to toe tip, hands still pushing deep into my hoodie pocket. The room was full of stunned people in suits. Most were old and surrounded by red lines, wrapping their body like chains. Others were muscle, different lines of greens and yellows with red thrown in as an after thought. I was almost beside David who’d collapsed to the ground, he braces himself on one arm, legs curling in to not touch me.

I stooped low, my eyes locked onto a bald man sitting on a throne of red dancing lines thick as arms, “David.”

“Maxwell Fisher.”

“Thank you, David.” I stood straight again. I approached the man in ten seconds, too fast for his guards to act and too slow for him to not realize what was going to happen to him. My knees were on his lap when I greeted him, “Hello Max” and his response was howls of pain and anguish as I squeezed his brain from his skull and drank his soul from the grip of the red tendrils that lovingly caressed me.

When I was done mostly everyone had run from the room, except a few dead body guards on the ground but I had no idea how they’d gotten there. David was still waiting, breathing heavily and sitting in piss but waiting nonetheless. I glanced at him but thought better of approaching, I made to leave.

“Wait!” He called, he was getting to his feet, “what about what you promised. You know what I really wanted right,” He was edging toward me on his knees, failing to get to his feet, “I let you free to get his soul. You have to give me my reward!” He was gripping my arm, eyes wild, watching the door out of the room. He’s betrayed his employer for his own power. He’d given me a name he shouldn’t have. But...

I took his arm, taking his hand away from me, “You didn’t set me free, David.” I offbalanced him enough that he fell away from me. I stooped down and booped his nose, “You’re a weakling, David, and now,” I laughed, “unemployed for sure.” I gave him a mock sentimental shrug, “you just weren’t a very good employee, I guess.” I began walking away and then turned back, “But, I suppose, you did help me reconnect with myself so,” I lifted my arms above my head to stretch, “I’ll give you what you asked for,” I mocked defeat and watched David’s face light up. I winked, “3237 Winslow Dr. Right here in the same state but one city over.” I began laughing, “Dude he’s seriously so close I can hear him cussing. You two deserve each other!” David’s face was hollow, a man lost in a sea of shit. He didn’t even notice me leave.

Your heart transplant goes perfectly successful, and you leave the hospital with a new and healthy organ. But there’s one thing you don’t know—your donor? A demon.

[claire-bear-and-friends-blog]

Bleach Version of CAH

Black Cards

v  What would I create if I had Aizen’s hogyoku?

v  Maybe Ikkaku isn’t bald. Maybe he’s (               ).

v  The other Visored were shocked to learn that Lisa’s magazines are actually filled with pictures of (                ).

v  What is the Quincy’s ultimate goal?

v  Kurosaki Ichigo has every power. Except the power of (              ).

v  I should be in Squad 0 because I invented (               ).

v  What’s the next thing that Szayel is going to make edible?

v  Yhwach is hiring a new Stern Ritter, the Quincy of (             ).

v  Soi Fon refused to fight alongside Hachigen, at least until he offered her               (            ).

v  Why is Soul Society in trouble?

v  Grimmjow hasn’t joined the battle because he is distracted by (            ).

v  What will the Reiou (Soul King) use to woo Ichigo?

v  Orihime’s powers can heal anything, except of course (                 ).

v  Rukia’s next comic will be about (                ), dealing with (               ), for the first time.

v  For their new fundraiser, the Women’s Soul Reaper Association (WRSA) will be selling (             ).

v  Gin might have beaten Aizen if only he had used (           ).

v  Urahara has a secret weapon to defeat the Quincy. What is it?

v  As a teenager Byakuya was obsessed with (           ).

v  What was the name of Ichigo’s fullbring?

v  When not in use, the Zanpakuto bond by (               ).

v  Aside from killing, what do Soul Reapers use their Zanpakuto for?

v  The Visored survived in the World of the Living by (              ).

v  Why does the king ride the horse?

v  Aizen has requested to see a live performance of Hamlet in the World of the Living. Why?

v  Ryuuken has decided to become a better father by (             ).

v  Isshin has decided to become a better father by (              ).

v  The best sword in Bleach belongs to (               ).

v  Who has the spikiest hair?

v  What was Luffi’s secret power?

v  What things are found in Ichigo’s repression box?

v  Why are there so many characters with a creepy grin?

v  The person that has a crush on Ichigo is (               ).

v  What does Senbonzakura do in his spare time?

v  What brings all the Hollows to the yard?

v  The best way to describe Bleach is (               ).

v  Why does Ichigo’s inner hollow wax poetry about kings and horses?

v  When the Visoreds materialise their masks their sclera’s turn black. Because of (               ).

v  What is the heart?

v (                 ) & (               ), the hottest new ship in Bleach.

v  What were the makers of Bleach S Abridged on when making their abridged series?

v  A new name has been created for Bleach and is (              ).

v  I will defeat you using my (              )!

v  Aizen’s Bankai gives the ability to (            ).

v  When Ichigo and Nel spend time together it always leads to (            ).

v  Uryuu loves (             ), but he will never admit it.

v  The dullest part of Bleach is (               ).

v (                 ) will defeat all the hollows.

v  The real cause of Ukitake’s illness is (              ).

v  Nanao has discovered something in her captain’s bedroom. What is it?

v  (             ) doesn’t happen in the manga.

White Cards

v  The Quincy watching you from the shadows.

v  A Menos Grande named Steve.

v  Aizen’s bondage chair.

v  Ishida wearing Ichigo’s sword like a hat.

v  Tite Kubo’s fetish for cutting off arms.

v  The heart.

v  A sword that releases into an EVEN BIGGER SWORD!

v  My pride.

v  A noble scarf.

v  Boobs.

v  Very nice sideburns.

v  Ichigo’s closet.

v  Getting a tattoo on your face because you once saw a dude with the same tattoo on his chest.

v  An obscene tattoo.

v  Complimenting another dudes’ eyebrows because eyebrows are cool, dude.

v  Shunpo (flash step).

v  Eyebrows that are just, freakishly long.

v  Zombie slaves.

v  A bunny named Chappy.

v  Screaming Kurosaki Ichigo’s name.

v  The empty chair in the sky.

v  Perfect hypnosis.

v  A nickname from Yachiru.

v  Talking to your guitar like it is sentient.

v  The despair squad.

v  Justice.

v  A bucket worn on the head like a helmet.

v  Talking cats.

v  Putting Urahara into a box for an entire month.

v  A pink flowered kimono.

v  A stray dog, down to my bones.

v  Squad 4 being too late to actually heal you.

v  Aizen getting high on Ulquiorra’s eye sparkles.

v  Stabbing Momo Hinamori.

v  Ulquiorra holding out his hand as he turns to dust.

v  Healing mucus.

v  Endless Pursuit.

v  Admiral Seaweed.

v  A hand that doubles as a drill.

v  A caterpillar baby with poisonous chest spikes.

v  Ignoring serious head wounds.

v  Unohana with her hair down.

v  Instinct.

v  Plushies that are alive.

v  Tea.

v  My inner hollow.

v  A city on its side.

v  The rain.

v  A dead mother.

v  Urahara’s hat.

v  A hell butterfly.

v  Because it is all according to my plan. - Aizen

v  Byakuya’s hair piece.

v  The Ouken (The Kings Key).

v  Piles of paperwork.

v  Mysterious transfer students.

v  Resurreccion Segunda Etapa (Second-Stage Resurreccion).

v  BANKAI!

v  Ichigo’s blinding hair that every other anime protagonist has.

v  Nerd Aizen.

v  Getsuga Tensho (Basically, Fuck everything in that direction).

v  Mugetsu.

v  Yoruichi’s fuzzy paws.

v  Quincy brainwashing.

v  A powerless Ichigo.

v  Harribel’s under-boob.

v  Tatsuki punching Chizuru off of Orihime every morning.

v  Las Noche’s being so huge.

v  Crystal tree’s in Hueco Mundo.

v  Mugetsu’s majestic, waist-length, black hair.

v  The holy Substitute Shinigami arc.

v  Everyone randomly giving Toshiro candy all the time.

v  Aizen's butterfly form that made all fans stare in horror.

v  Orihime’s usefulness and character development other that her breasts.

v  The beach episode that came from an omake and a 2-page art piece.

v  Ulquiorra’s habit of creating a hole in his victim’s chest.

v  Rangiku in a cat suit.

v  Hyorinmaru’s stoic face.

v  The tragic ending of Bleach.

v  Gin creepily staring at everyone with a knowing grin from afar.

v  Grimmjow’s Resurreccions blue kitty ears.

v  The fact that Ikkaku shares an uncanny resemblance to Saitama from One Punch Man.

v  The bromance of the entire 11th division.

v  Ichigo’s cero destroying the chains of Hell.

v  The Diamond Dust Rebellion movie.

v  Mayuri without his makeup and headgear.

v  Urahara smirking behind his fan.

v  Just a simple candy shop owner.

v  The rejoicing of every Ichihime and Renruki shipper at the ending.

v  Kenpachi’s hair style of death.

v  The fact that Isshin is Kaien, Ganju and Kuukakku’s uncle. Also, that he was the head of the Noble Shiba clan.

v  Yumichika’s soul sucking, colour sensitive, flowery, peacock zanpakuto.

v  Grimmjow’s abs.

v  Ulquiorra cosplaying as batman.

v  The Espada at Aizen’s tea parties.

v  Noitora’s 6 arms.

v  All of the Ichigo shippers going to war.

v  The despair of every Ichiruki and Ishihme shipper at the ending.

v  Fights that take 10 episodes to finish.

v  Fighting a captain.

v  Sacrificing yourself in a horrific and violent manner.

v  The canon ships.

v  Bleach S Abridged in general.

v  Ichigo’s hollow and Old Man Zangetsu drinking in Ichigo’s inner world.

v  Dark Rukia.

v  Just kiss him already.

v  Cero.

v  Whatever animal Kon is.

v  Insulting your former captain.

v  A secret sake stash.

v  A Mashiro Super Kick.

v  Stabbing people in the chest with your hand.

v  The Onmitsukido.

v  Flinging your friend from the top of Soukyouku Hill.

v  Using forbidden Kido.

v  Ukitake’s chronic illness.

v  Getting lost in every single division barracks.

v  Having Kido backfire on you.

v  Explaining your abilities to your opponent.

v  Mayuri’s questionable fashion sense.

v  A ridiculous amount of spiritual pressure.

v  Hell.

v  High level Kido spells cast without incantations.

v  Betrayal.

v  Kuchiki Byakuya’s perfect hair.

v  Noble families.

v  Orihime’s attempts at seducing Ichigo.

v  Sosuke Aizen. Enough said.

v  Yoruichi turning into a cat.

v  Accepting Ichigo’s offer to see his ‘Ultimate Zanpakuto’.

v  Untreated PTSD.

v  Shiro’s horns right up the ass.

v  Killing Masaki.

v  Dying heroically for no reason.

v  The MRSA (Men’s Soul Reapers Association)

v  Getting stabbed in the chest.

v  Karakura Town.

v  Rangiku’s necklace that falls between her boobs.

v  Pure chaos.

v  Central 46 being murdered by Aizen.

v  Getting stabbed by your captain.

v  Saving the world before turning 16.

v  Muramasa’s Zanpakuto filler arc that is underrated.

v  Ikkaku Madarame’s shiny bald head.

v  Strawberry-chan.

v  Isshin’s suspicious white van.

v  Pretending not to have Bankai.

v  The Maggot’s nest with Urahara in charge.

v  Tekking101’s weekly Bleach chapter review.

v  Kenpachi Zaraki killing everyone in the nearby vicinity

AN: Just to be clear I don’t own Bleach, but me and my friends created our own version of Cards Against Humanity and I wanted to share them. They take a while to make and coming up with the ideas was a process. I encourage you to enjoy and if you wish to make your own, you are totally allowed to use these or simply take ideas. It is a long post as it has 50 Black and 150 White cards.

Have a good one!

-Claire Bear & Friends