#these things are expensive bc they’re MASSIVE

[zootopiathingz]

Pookie came home yesterday✨✨

[iwritefandomimagines]

BLIND DATE — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

description: you and jamie never saw eye to eye. when keeley offers to set you up on a blind date and it’s him that turns up, you’re irritated. but you’re soon to find out that maybe she’s right… maybe he has changed.

warnings: enemies to lovers if you squint bc there’s not much angsty content it’s more implied, swearing, alcohol consumption, fluff at the end because that’s my mf baby

author’s note: i live and breathe enemies to lovers jamie tartt content so this is sooo self indulgent and fluffy ish at the end.

———

“You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me?”

You’d already been reluctant when Keeley Jones begged you to let her set you up with someone she knew.

Your best friend had been going on at you about needing to ‘get yourself out there’ for ages now — and the only reason you had given in to her request was so that she’d back off a bit.

But now, as the one and only Jamie fucking Tartt approached your table, your dress felt especially clingy and your palms felt especially sweaty.

“Y/N,” Jamie smirked, having always enjoyed getting under your skin, “You look fucking stunnin’, and really fucking happy to see me.”

You rolled your eyes as he sat down, “Why the hell would Keeley set me up with you of all people?”

Jamie pushed his hair out of his face, and you couldn’t help but take his whole look in as he removed his jacket and adjusted his shirt.

Okay, he may have been a massive prick — but not even you could deny that he wasn’t exactly a chore to look at. Just a chore to listen to.

“See, Y/N, I hear ya voice complaining,” he quipped, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm as his other hand waved over a waiter, “But you’re still checking me out. Like what you see, eh?”

Before you had a chance to snap back at the walking irritant in front of you, the waiter was at your table taking your drinks orders.

A large glass of wine to cool your nerves would do nicely was what you had decided before he’d arrived — but now a bottle seemed more appropriate.

Of course, when you asked for this Jamie just smiled smugly, “Yeah, you know what? Me ‘n the lady will share. Bring us your most expensive bottle of Pinot Grigio, yeah?”

You tried not to cringe at his mispronunciation.

You sighed, sipping at the table water you’d already been brought as the waiter nodded and rushed away.

“Now where were we, love?”

“You were being arrogant, I was still trying to figure out how I’ve ended up sat opposite you… Just like old times.”

Jamie scoffed, “Oh no, I was simply observin’ that you checked me out. Don’t worry, love, I was checking you out too. Like I said, you’re stunnin’.”

You hated that he could so obviously see his words had affected you — a crimson blush immediately staining your cheeks as he quirked his eyebrow in acknowledgement.

“I can think that you’re attractive and still think you’re a prick, Jamie,” you shrugged, a small smile on your lips as he screwed up his face, “I do have eyes.”

He licked his lips, “See, makin’ progress already. Never admitted you fancy me before, but if it helps, love, I fancy you too.”

You scoffed again, “I said you’re attractive, not that I fancy you.”

“Same thing,” he shrugged, leaning further forward, “Look, I know you think I’m a twat, but I’ve been working on how not to be.”

You looked at him for a moment, not sure what to make of his words.

He’d always been an egotistical arse, always convinced he was God’s gift to earth, and his shameless flirting whilst also being an arsehole had always just grated on you.

You’d had some semblance of a crush on him once, almost admiring his confidence (and of course how gorgeous he was) but his attitude had led you to a prickling disdain for the man instead.

He knew he got under your skin, so he would flirt outrageously and nitpick at things you did and said to piss you off and rile you up.

Keeley had insisted he took the whole childhood ‘if they’re mean to you they like you’ bollocks all too seriously, but you’d brushed that off considering the fact that he was still very much lapping up any and all female attention he received elsewhere.

Given that you only attended events as Keeley’s friend, it hadn’t been hard to avoid him since — deciding that it wasn’t worth letting him get to you.

“So Keeley’s been saying,” you narrowed your eyes, “I know you flirt with, like, anything that breathes, but I’m surprised you’re not more disappointed by her decision to set us up.”

It was Jamie’s turn to scoff now, his eyes never leaving yours as you felt suddenly shy under his close watch.

“She didn’t set us up, I asked her to.”

You furrowed your brows, confused as to why the fuck he’d do that. Sure, he’d flirted with you before but you were certain it was just to piss you off.

“What?”

“I knew you didn’t like me, ‘cos you only know the old Jamie Tartt,” he pouted, and you fought the urge to chuckle, “So I asked her to pretend it was just some mate of hers she wanted to send you on a blind date with. Just to see if you’d give me a chance, ya know?”

You were almost touched by his words, but still remained wary about his intentions, “Why— what made you that determined for a date with me?”

He laughed, a big loud laugh that drew the attention of many surrounding tables.

The waiter returned now, interrupting you again.

He poured you both a glass of wine and placed down the wine cooler as you and Jamie thanked him whilst never looking away from each other.

“For the third time tonight, you’re fuckin’ stunning Y/N. And I like that you never took my shit back then. Just figured it was time to try me luck and see if ya’d change your mind about me,” if you didn’t know him better, you’d think he was nervous, “‘S why Keeley’s been talkin’ me up to you so much. She’s known I’ve had a thing for you for, like, ages.”

You were gobsmacked — not only by his confession, but the sincerity his voice held.

“Why’ve you not reached out sooner, then? I haven’t seen you in months, not since the last charity gala,” you bit your lip.

You remembered that night very well, given that you’d almost shared a drunken kiss with him until you came to your senses and left the party.

He only smirked again, “You remember the exact last time we saw each other, huh?”

“Jamie…”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in defeat, “I was gutted you didn’t kiss me at that party, even though it’s fair that you didn’t. Keeley told me you deserved better than how I’d been treating you, but that she knew if I got me shit together we’d make a good couple. So I waited ‘til me shit was, well, together. And now here we are. With my shit sorta together.”

You were almost speechless, “Jamie— that’s, well, that’s actually really sweet.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, “Glad ya think so, love. Been hard as fuck and I’ve almost called you a fuck load of times, too, but Keeley and Roy have been really good with helping and that.”

Now you were really surprised, “Roy’s been helping you work on yourself? Fuckin’ hell, things must have changed since I last saw you!”

Jamie laughed, pursing his lips as he shrugged and let out a breathy sigh, “He won’t admit it but we’re, like, friends now. Don’t tell him I said that though. He’d go fuckin’ mental.”

“Oh I know,” you chuckled, “But I hope you’ve been doing this for yourself as well, not just trying to change to make other people happy.

The smile on his face spread warmth through your chest, and you could feel the walls you’d built up to protect yourself from Jamie’s old self beginning to crumble.

Your face was lit with a smile now, a wide and sincere smile that you could tell boosted his confidence about this whole elaborate plan.

“Nah, it’s been good,” he nodded, “And you’ve never smiled at me like that, not even when we first met and you were trying to be nice before I fucked things by being all Jamie Tartt. So I’d say it’s, like, more than worth it, to be fair.”

Your smile only widened at that, and his matched it almost exactly.

“I don’t even know what to say at this point, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not actually glad I’m here now,” you bit your lip, maintaining steady eye contact with him and placing your hand on the table.

He was quick to place his own hand atop yours, “‘M really glad to hear it, Y/N. Can we treat this like a fresh start or whatever? Like a real blind date? Want to show you I’ve changed properly, that I’m a new Jamie.”

You giggled, poking your thumb out to rub the back of his hand with it, “Sure. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and it’s nice to meet you. Sorry if this is forward but you look really good tonight, stranger.”

He beamed like a proud child at those words, “Jamie Tartt. You look fuckin’ phenomenal, Y/N. Since we’ve like, never met, this might be weird,” you rolled your eyes with a laugh at how seriously he was taking the starting over thing, “But I hope this ain’t our only date.”

“Play your cards right, Jamie Tartt, and it won’t be,” you smiled, standing up and leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheekbone.

“Because, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I hope it isn’t either.”

———

eeeee i hope you enjoyed that, i love jamie tartt a ridiculous amount so couldn’t help myself ! here’s my masterlist if you want to read more of my jamie fics or any of my other stuff!

also kinda feeling a part two where you’re secretly dating and turn up to a richmond squad event with him? let me know if u would like that!!!

[nqueso-emergency]

Buddie seems to think we have a problem to them shipping or rooting or believing for their ship. But it’s not, have as many couch and color theory as you want. Hell, everyone has different approach and conclusion to the character and/or their relationship from watching the show, I get that. Fandom is for having theories discussing them, making head canon and creating works around them.

What people have problem is them being the absolute vile human being to the real life people be it a fan, crews, and even the actors themselves. We have problem with them because their counterproductive has always been at the expense of others. One of which treating their own fanon or ideas as canon and/or true fact. I discovered 911 universe thru LS first. And from the beginning they’ve always say that Tarlos was the replacement for Buddie. That Tim was going to green lit them before he left but the exces was not having it. When asked the buddies never provided actual interview or press and as long if seen they just replied with tweet that comes from another buddies with different variation of wording. And listen I don’t have a problem if they believe that, but they keep running it as a fact, then dismissing Tarlos as a legit relationship because they started too soon (which I seem to remember the most paying ship from that show doing this too, but I guess if it’s a queer relationship it has to have the fanfiction plot 🤷🏾‍♂️) or they started from hookup instead of years of slow burn (which surprise most relationship goes from casual then taking the leap of faith to pursue it seriously or not). Then the other day they come again saying that the Rafael or Ronen have beef with each other. Which I don’t care about the RL actors but also what a fucking weirdo you have to be to micro-analyze two actors especially from the show you say you didn’t like. Oh they definitely had been bothering the LS actors too asking about their opinion on Buddie (bc of course that’s just regular behavior for them) and being mad when the actors answered in neutral and the other answered he only has eyes for his own show and relationship, because I guess even they knew how obsessive these fans can get

Before 2024, the buddies weren’t this massive and “openly” hateful and it was mostly Tarlos because from their own mind that they choose to believe as real factual information, Tarlos was the one thing preventing Buddie to “happen”. Now while I don’t closely join the 911, due to algorithm I have witnessed how nasty they have been to the idea of BuckTommy/ just Tommy in general. Because now this new guy is also the one preventing my two preferred men to kiss.

I think wishing you guys well and for Buddies to enjoy their ship without bothering others seems like a big imagination because it’s either being mad at the exces for making other couples instead of their preferred one or being mad at themselves for getting too worked and baited up by their own theories that was made by their own mind and choose to believe it as canon. I guess that’s why a lot of them seem to be mad if they’re not going to have buddies this season. Because what a waste of 7 years being baited by your own brain 🤣

This

[azrielslostshadow]

Modern!Azriel Headcanons

Modern! Azriel/ Navy Seal! Azriel x reader

Wordcount: 900ish

Warnings: annoying drill sergeant, couple curse words, not super gendered (like one mention of a dress)

A/N: az is a cutie in this one too :)))

Modern!Azriel who grew up in the same trashy neighborhood as you and cass and rhys. 

Modern!Azriel who was determined to make it out despite what his shitty father and half-brothers had to say about it. 

Modern!Azriel who was somehow top 10 in your graduating class despite missing like half of junior and senior year to work and help his mom pay the bills. 

Modern!Azriel who got a 1500 on the SAT and a 96 on his ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) test. 

Modern!Azriel who knew that his best chance out of the hood was the military (also probably not the best way to work out all his anger)

Modern!Azriel who convinces cass to join him and they both enlist in the battle buddy program together. (they both deploy together so they always have a homie to rely on)

Modern!Azriel who is a fucking 6’4” unit and is recruited by the navy bc he’s massive and a genius and secretly speaks like 5 languages (bc his mom is an immigrant and they’re like that) 

the drill sergeant just about dropped and foamed at the mouth at the sight of azriel and cassian (drill sergeant goes on a tangent about finally getting some “real sailors” and the rest of the unit literally hates them bc yeah he’s right they don’t compare)

Modern!Azriel who (alongside cassian) gets asked to apply to seal school and they graduate with some of the highest BUD/S scores the navy has ever seen (his mom is super proud and makes him mole de pollo bc its his favorite and she loves her son and his friends)

Modern!Azriel who makes it to captain in six years instead of the average nine bc he’s just that good

Modern!Azriel who always remembered you as his kind coworker from his trashy minimum wage dishwashing job in high school and definitely not as his friend’s cute younger sister.

Modern!Azriel who remembers every time you brought him dinner and badly lied about how you hated to waste food and didn’t know what to do with the leftovers so he wouldn’t feel bad about eating it (bc times were tough in HS and he really wasn’t eating enough at all)

Modern!Azriel who just kind of slowly blinks at you when him and his unit walk into the museum that you’ve been working at. 

Modern!Azriel whose chest tightens with something strange when your whole face lights up after recognizing him. 

Modern!Azriel who has only had casual flings (mostly bc he was always away for work) but feels his heart drop to his feet when you press your lips to his left cheek and give his arms a little squeeze. 

Modern!Azriel whose whole body relaxes when you pull him into a hug. who’s knees almost give out when you rub your manicured hands up and down his biceps and whisper about how you missed him–how you were worried about him. 

his whole team will harass him later about his reaction and beg for the details behind your history because even though they’re navy seals they’re really just chismosas on the inside. 

Modern!Azriel who is seriously so confused as to how you (someone who was so kind and loving) could be involved in counter-terrorism.

Modern!Azriel who is shocked when you explain to him that the art world is full of criminals and that terrorists especially love to use expensive art as methods of payment for whatever horrible acts they want to commit. 

Modern!Azriel whose chest puffs with pride when he hears you tell your boss that you have full faith in his unit and their abilities bc “azriel isn’t the kind of man who lets people down”

Modern!Azriel who is supposed to be paying attention to the baroque painting on the wall but can’t take his eyes off of you in your beautiful, floor-length, velvet gown. 

Modern!Azriel who takes out two things in one night: a secret terrorist cell and you to dinner. 

Modern!Azriel who realizes he hasn’t been able to have a serious relationship bc he’s been in love with you this whole time (read: since he was literally 9 years old and you told him he had the prettiest eyes in the world)

Modern!Azriel who wears the matching bracelet you got him every single day. especially when he’s deployed bc a photo of you might actually be too dangerous for the field

Modern!Azriel who never tells you exactly what he does just that he’s the captain of a navy seal unit bc its classified, but you still worry (especially bc you’re a historian and can almost immediately tell where he’s been in the world based on the souvenirs he brings you)

Modern!Azriel who almost bursts into tears when you tell him you love him first bc he’d  been struggling to get the words out for weeks

Modern!Azriel who gets to experience softness from someone other than his mother for the first time in his life

Modern!Azriel who is in a healthy, positive relationship with someone who loves all of him including his flaws. 

Modern!Azriel whose partner teaching him about emotional maturity and communication and slowly walks with him down his healing journey

Modern!Azriel who is pathetically in love with his partner and can’t wait to start their life together. 

[the-cookie-of-doom]

The Birds and the Bees (Gets Kim On His Knees)

Summary: Sex pollen AU Kim is getting POLLINATED. Bee boy Chay thinks he’s the prettiest flower in the bunch and he’s getting all up in his vase. (sober note: Chay is not actually a bee boy)

It starts out perfectly innocently, okay? Chay had a plan, and that plan was to woo Kim, because after his delightfully sweet confusion upon receiving the guitar pick from Chay was any indication, he’s never been romanced before, and Chay is going to romance him so fucking hard. There’s going to be chocolate and dates and flowers. 

The flowers are the important part. Chay went into the florist with a polite request for something special, bc his honey only deserves the best, and he can’t remember the name of the flowers that were neatly wrapped into a big, fluffy bouquet, but it was pretty, and it sounded expensive, and Chay didn’t even bother checking the price tag before his handed over his credit card. Worrying about the price of things? That’s a Before Chay problem. Now Chay has mafia money, and he’s going to spend it on flowers to make his boyfriend blush, and no one is going to stop him. 

The flowers make Chay blush a little bit, too. He gets all shivery and warm under the collar as he carries them out of the shop, little white flecks dusting all over him. 

“Have fun,” the florist tells him on his way out the door, waving and laughing. “Don’t forget plenty of water.”

Duh. Chay knows how to keep flowers alive. Or, keep them from wilting, at least for a few days, bc technically they’re dead now that they’re cut. He’s giving Kim a dead gift. But that’s okay bc Kim gave him a bar fullof dead gifts, and these ones are prettier. They smell better, too, and they may be snowing bits of white fluff everywhere, but they aren’t going to leave so much of a mess. (Poor Yok had to close the bar for a month.) 

Back at the apartment that Chay does not share with Kim, even though hes there more often than he isn’t, because kim hasn’t offered, and chay hasn’t asked, and besires, hia would probably kill him, anyway. Say something rude about a love nest, which is absolutely not what it is. (It’s exactly what it is.) 

Without the use of his hands, given the *massive* bouquet, Chay has to settle for knocking his feet and elbows against the door until Kim gets the hint and opens it for him. 

“Chay?” he asks, peering around the flowers, and oh, right, he probably can’t actually *see* chay like this. He ducks his head around the side and grins, then thrusts the flowers into Kim’s arms. He’s getting tired, and he needs a glass of water. Carrying those things has been making him sweat. Who knows flowers could weight so mich? 

“Hi, honey,” CHay greets cheergully. “I’m home!” 

Kim’s fae goes from confused to preciously warm and soft and chay wants to kiss him, bc he’s *so* cute, he actually can’t take it. Who said his boyfriend could be so cute? Kim is supposed to be hot and sexy and intimidating. Cute is cay’s thing. But Kim, bc he isn’t fair, bc he’s blessed, is everything. He’s so good and sweet and he’s watching chay with eyes so fond and warm they could melt chocolate, and Chay has to kiss him about it. Right? Kim’s his boyfriend now—it’s their 1 month anniversary—which means he gets to do that now. 

The flowers are in the way, though. 

Chay takes them back. Says, “These are for you, by the way,” as he carts them over to the table, and Kim closes the door, and follows after him with an indulgent smile. 

“What’s the occasion?” he asks. 

“You, duh. I just.” Chay puts the flowers down. He arranges them carefully, fluffing out the thick white buds. ROcks back and forth on his teeth. Twists his hands in his sweater. He loves Kim so much and he has no idea how to hake his boyfriend understand. “I’m just—y9ou make me so happy. And I’m really lucky to be with you. So, yeah. Flowers. For you. Bc you deserve nice things.”

“Chay…” 

Kim comes up behind him, because Chay, flushed from the tip of his nose to the tip of his ears, does *not* look at him. He wraps his arms around CHay’s middle and nuzzles into the back of his hot neck, planting a soft kiss there. 

“I love you,” he murmurs into the sensitive space behind Chay’s ear, making him shudder. “Thank you, love, they’re really pretty.”

“You’re pretty.” Chay ducks his head down but he lets Kim spin him and kiss the top of his head. “I need some water.” He’s still burning up, and now he’s certain it’s the embarrassment more than the thirst, but if he doesn’t drink something cold now he’s going to melt into a puddle on the ground. So he darts away and Kim lets him go with a laugh. 

It gives him the opportunity to look at the flowers closer, leaning down to take a deep inhale. The fluff flaking off from the fleshy pink middles must egt vaught in his nose bc he starts sneezing, and chay giggles from the kitchen. 

“SOrry they’re getting pollen, like, everywhere.” Like dandelions, almost. Except these flowers are more than balls of white, tufty seeds. The petals are thick and full, white around the edges, then peachy pink in the middle, and at the very center of them, where the petals are folded together the thickest, they turn a lurid, dusky purple. And those white tufts of pollen drip out from that tight furl of petals. 

Kim straightens back up from his fit, and has pollen all in his hair and dotting his cheeks. Chay coos at him. He looks like he went frolicking in a daisy field. 

[commercial break for porn]

“Chay—Chay, those flowers—”

“I know,” Chay groans, dragging Kim into a fevered kiss. Fuck, what was wrong with those flowers? He should have—he should have realized something was off, as soon as he started getting warm, and they florist—telling him to remember plenty of water for them, him and Kim, not the flowers, of fucking course. God, how could he have been so blind. 

“Chay.”  And Kim—Kim is whining. That was definitely a whine. High and plaintive and pleading, and Chay has to take a deep breath before he comes on the spot. 

This is fine, everything is fine, he’s in control here. He’s barely affected. See? Look, P’Kim, he can walk in a straight line, straight to their bedroom, because he’s fine. Chay isn’t the one that decided to inhale a lungfull of sex pollen. 

Kim looks out of his fucking mind with it, though, little white flecks speckled through his hair, his pupils completely blown. Like a cat when it sees something in wants. Kim is looking at Chay like he’s never wanted anything more in his life, and it’s a heady feeling, to be on the receiving end of that gaze. For all Kim has become a whimpering limpet, he looks like he’s going to each Chay alive as Chay pushes him down onto the bed. 

“Are you okay?” Chay asks, on top of him, kissing his throat, because he’s a gentleman. Porsche raised him to be very considerate of his partners, and dammit, he’s going to make sure Kim is comfortable and taken care of!

“Yes, Chay, yes, I’m so okay, fuck, are you—” Kim tugs at Chay’s shirt, seemingly forgetting how buttons work in his desperation to get it off of CHay. he settles for digging his fingers into the spaces between the buttons and yanking, ripping it apart. 

Once again Chay is taking several deep breaths. 

Do not come. Do NOT come, he tells himself. 

Unfortunately his inhale led to a little tuft of pollen going right up his nose, and he snuffles a few times, trying to get rid of the tickling feeling. Now that he knows what he’s looking for he can feel it as the warmth spreads through him, spreading from his nose to his face and down his neck, and then it reaches his heard and flows through all of him, coalescing at his dick. 

Which Kim is determinedly trying to free from the confines of Chay’s slacks. 

Why did he decide to give up his usual uniform of tshirts and sweatpants, again? Dressing up for his boyfriend is overrated when he could be undressing for his boyfriend instead, and that’s a lot harder to do wrapped up in said boyfriend the way he is when he isn’t wearing something with a forgiving degree of stretch. He tries very hard to wiggle out of the stiff slacks while also palming Kim’s ass, which isn’t helpful at all, but it is nice. 

“Chay,” Kim complains, and there’s that whine again. God, it shouldn’t be as hot as it is. It really shouldn’t. Except for the fact that it means Kim is utterly and relentlessl desperate for him, which means it’s approximately the hottest thing he’s ever heard. 

“I’m trying,” Chay says, except he isn’t actually trying at all. He manages to pull his hands away from Kim long enough that he can open up his pants and kick them down his legs, while also trying to divest Kim of his own clothes, and somehow that ends up with both of them in a tangled the floor. Chay isn’t sure how that happened but there’s a dull ache in his shoulder and hip telling him that gravity was involved. 

Kim, straddling Chay’s thighs in an instant, doesn’t seem to mind the position change. In fact he takes full advantage, throwing himself on top of Chay and kissing him absolutely breathless. CHay isn’t complaining, that’s for damn sure. 

“I need you ti fuck me right now,” Kim demands. 

“Yes. Yes yes yes.”  Chay scrabbles on the floor, hoping for lube to magically appear when he needs it most. Unfortunately it does not. He makes a mental not to hide lube fucking everywhere later, just likekim has guns and knives hidden in all the nooks and crannies around his apartment, that way they can both be prepared for anything. Bc chay wants nothing more than to fuck kim on every available surface, please and thank you. 

Today that apparently includes the floor, and honestly? Chay isn’t hating it.

“Lube, P’Kim, we need lube.” No way he’s going to fuck him dry. Because again. Gentleman. COnsiderate lover. All of that. 

Except Kim makes a noise like—like—chay doesn’t know what it’s like. It’s high pitched and maybe kind of worried? And he’s reaching back between his legs, and his brows are drawn together as he scrunches his nose up in that cute way he does, and lips are parted so sweetly, and—

Before CHy can kiss him about it, Kim pulls his hand back, his fingers glistening with something that looks a hell of a lot like lube, except for the fact that they have no lube, as previously established. 

“I think maybe we don’t?” he says. His voice, normally rough and deep, goes somewhere high and unfamiliar. 

What the fuck, Chay thinks. 

“What the fuck,” he says out loud. Kim’s eyes are wide and wild and is laugh is a little bit hysterical. Chay should probably worry about that. Try to calm him down maybe. Except he’s also read about this? “Let me just—” he wiggles his hand beneath Kim, brushes his fingers against his hole, and—yep, he’s definitely slick with something. 

“What the fuck,” Kim echoes, still staring at his fingers. 

He suddenly remembers the florist telling him, Don’t forget plenty of water. He’s going to die, actually. They’ve been sex pollened. Pollinated? Yeah, that. And fuck, she knew, she had to know, that’swhy she smirked and laughed and told him to drink water, because she knew things were going to get wet and fucking messy. 

God, Chay can’t even be mad about it because—because it’s Kim, and he is wet, and Chay desperately wants to make a mess of both of them. 

Kim shouts when Chay throws him back onto the ground, pinning him on his back. He made sure to pull a blanket down first (Gentleman!!) so Kim wouldn’t be bare on the cold wood floor. Then he grabs Kim’s legs behind his knees and forces his thighs to his chest, he’s vaguely aware of Kim’s hands slapping the ground, but then he’s thoroughly distracted by burying his tongue in the nectar-sweet slick dripping from Kim’s hole. 

“Chay!” Kim cries, equal parts indignant and hopelessly turned on. HIs thighs clamp down around Chay’s head and do absolutely nothing to deter him. In fact, Chay elects to ignore him entirely, digging his fingers into Kim’s thighs and licking into him with fervor. 

Deliriously, he thinks, finally, all those smut fics are good for something. He’s never been more prepared for something in his life. 

“You taste so sweet, P’Kim,” Chay says when he finally comes up for air, what could be minutes or hours later. 

“You’re so fucking weird,” kim pants. His face is flushed, all the way down his chest, and his eyes are glassy. It’s the most beautiful CHay has ever seen him, and all Chay can think is, I did that. 

Well, the flowers—the fucking sex pollen—did that, but Chay helped! 

Chay shoves Kim’s legs open again, because they’re still crushing him a little bit, and crawls his way backup Kim’s body, where he greets him with a deep, wet kiss. Chay is covered in that sweet slick from nose to chin and Kim makes a face at it, mumbling, “Gross,” but does nothing to resist Chay’s kiss. Sucks on his glistening bottom lip, even, and his tongue, chasing the sweet taste of himself. It’s probably just because of the pollen clouding his judgment. Probably. 

“I could eat you out for days, P’Kim,” Chay says, just to be sure, “So sweet for me.”

“Fuck.” That’s all Kim says. No agreement or refusal, absolutely not aligning himself with either side of that spectrum, and refusing to meet Chay’s eyes for fear he’ll see an answer there. That’s okay. Chay knows they’re definitely going to do it again, if only so Kim can have the chance to… properly decide for himself whether he likes it, or not, without the pollen making his brain fuzzy. 

“Can I still fuck you, P’Kim?” Chay asks, sweet as anything. (Gentle. Man.)

“Finally, yes, please, if you’re done teasing me.”

“I’m not.” Not even close. Teasing Kim into a shuddering, pathetic mess is going to become one of the greatest achievements of Chay’s life, up there with Getting His Idol to Tutor Him, and Getting Into University. “I’ll make it good for you, though, promise.” 

Really, it’s more of a threat. Chay makes himself comfortable in their little nest on the floor—he blindly reaches up and pulls a few pillows off the bed, one for him to sit on and another to shove under Kim’s hips, popping him up and putting him on display even more than he already is—and gets to work. Circles his thumb around Kim’s glistening rim, lightly at first, waiting until Kim’s breaths stop hitching and he takes a deep inhale, and then Chay dips the digit into him. Up to the first knuckle, nice and slow, and then deeper, until it’s all the way inside and the rest of his fingers lay flat against his cheek. Chay pulses it in and out a few times, nice and shallow, before he pulls all the way out and replaces it with his foreigner. A minute later he slides in the middle one, as well, and Kim keens sweetly for him. 

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

Who are the ballad brothers I have seen you tag them on a variety of posts and I am intrigued

THREE MONTHS LATE BUT HERE WE GO!!! I also did a post about this ages ago which I’ll link HERE but! There’s been a lot of development since then!!!

This is going to get long. Sorry in advance. (Also I’m keeping it to just the Ballad Brothers themselves (and co) but lmk if you also want to know about the saints! They’re not at all relevant to the main plot (two and a half exceptions) but they live rent free in my head)

TLDR. Little guys took up residence in my head when I listened to music in the car and it’s become a whole scifantasy worldbuilding exercise.

Anyway!

KYRIE ALEIDIS BALLAD

- she/her

- 29 years old

- 5’11 (and a half)

- Massive Fucking Tech Sword

- Enneagram 8w7 if you’re an enneagram guy

- she is YOUNG she’s FANTASTIC she’s GOD’S FAVORITE and she’s NEVER GOING TO DIE

- The main character!

- She is the city (symbolic) and her name is god

- Former sword-for-hire/star player/golden girl/mascot/diversity hire (whatever you want to call it) for evil organization(tm) Rekah’s Finest

- (named after St Rekah of the Guard)(think somewhere between the CIA and the Pinkertons)(National guard type of thing that staged a very quiet coup/government takeover about a decade before Kyrie was born and is gradually got to the point where they’re running the city-state where this all takes place as a police state)

- current renegade and aspiring vigilante

- she fucked off the minute she turned 18 to join the metaphorical army/become a cop (same difference)(except there’s also regular cops and they kind of suck shit) and very quickly became very good at it!

- wound up as essentially the Special Little Guy they have as the face of the organization doing a lot of like. Public outreach and shit. Also doing a lot of assassinations inside and outside of the city

- A few years before the story starts she Realized Some Things about how her and Alonzo were orphaned and quit her job EXTREMELY publicly and extremely dramatically and left with nothing but her Massive Fucking Tech Sword and the clothes on her back and fucked off to go hide/live in a massive tower monument at the center of town

- It’s… legally difficult to get her out of there due to the historical site preservation regulations so she’s just been kind of vibing there ever since

- Theoretically. She’s trying to take down the RF and get them Out Of Her Damn City

- In practice she’s one singular burnout and has no idea how the hell to go about doing that so she’s mostly just hanging out in the tower and evading arrest

- She’s a fuck boy dirt bag piece of shit (etc etc etc) and I love her for it

- She gets no bitches despite being a local celebrity with one of The Fanbases Ever (she would do numbers on scifantasy Twitter) bc She’s So Sucks <3

- (no bitches except she does have a weird homoerotic thing going w her roommate/childhood best friend who’s kind of a reincarnation of St Ely who built the city and lives in the tower)(she’s not looking at it)(she’s got bigger problems called Avoiding Confronting Any Emotion bc if she looks at any of them she’ll have to process all of the Guilt she has irt. Pretty much abandoning her baby brother on the streets to go be a hero and then Never Contacting Him Again)

ALONZO BALLAD

- he/him

- 25

- 5’4

- two regular guns

- Kyrie’s aforementioned baby brother!

- Enneagram 3w4 which if you were friends w me 2019-2021 you’ll know exactly how much that says everything you need to know about this guy (derogatory)

- Most repressed mfer on the planet and a neurotic little freak

- Considers himself to be the only guy in this found family with a braincell. (Untrue, even if you don’t count An)

- His first instinct in a lot of situations is Improv Theater. (Seeing his sister for the first time in more than ten years? Better wear a hood and prepare a whole dramatic reveal about it. Ran into the guy he kissed at the office holiday party while trying to get his expense account wrangled for an upcoming assignment? Time to launch into an extended bit about how he’s so sad and poor and he’s gonna starve and freeze to death all alone on the street and Only They have the power to help him. please.)(they think it’s hilarious but jfc what’s wrong with him)

- The main issue with him is that he gets his apartment and all of his necessities directly from his employer, so his first priority at all times is Preserve His Job At All Costs

- He thinks of the way he lives as self care. I think of it as masochism.

- His main idea of a Life Plan from the ages of 15-his early 20s was Look At What His Older Sister Did And Then Do It Too

- (his main idea of a life plan from the ages of 3-20 was Don’t Get In Trouble Ever or They Will Come And Kill You To Death)(these are not especially compatible philosophies.)

- So he’s a sword-for-hire (gun for hire. And not even a fancy tech one. They’re not trusting any more Ballad brothers with any more expensive technology.)

- This is not working out well for him. he’s not overwhelmingly good at the job. He doesn’t find any purpose in killing people. He doesn’t even like blood.

- He is, however, very good at following orders. But only when he wants to.

- He’s also very good at Lying To His Boss’s Boss

- They keep sending him to try and assassinate Kyrie as like. Kind of a power move? Trying to show her that they’ve got her only family at their beck and call and they can make him do whatever they want

- Unfortunately Alonzo has no interest in killing her so those missions pretty much just wind up with him going to hang out in the tower and shoot shit for a couple days and then going back and turning on the big sad wet eyes for his report to tell them that he did his best he really did but she’s always been stronger and he just couldn’t take her— but he’ll do better next time he promises 🥺🥺🥺

- Kyrie had been their best guy for several years and Alonzo is, in all other regards, the perfect employee (turns in all his paperwork ahead of time, does every other mission very efficiently and never gets caught, goes to all the company mixers even though everyone can tell he’s exhausted, always has his uniform meticulously clean and pressed) so this is plausible, and they go “aww okay better luck next time :) go get some rest :)”

- Also he’s lowkey a hostage here. What are they gonna do? Fire him? No they need him for leverage

- It drives his immediate supervisor who knows EXACTLY what’s going on up the fucking wall. We will get to them.

- Gets Fucking Shot With A Cheater Bullet (very small timed action grenade) on an assignment midway through the story and his first instinct (instead of going back to the office where they have like. Actual doctors and medical equipment to deal with that) is to head to St Ely’s tower, where they have his sister and his kind of boyfriend and also his sister’s roommate who can sew and his childhood buddy Jonesie down the street who knows first aid

- He’s not thinking especially straight due to the Panic and also the Blood Loss from the Bullet In His Ribcage and he’s got a whole emotional thing about how he wants to die at home w his people— and then it goes off and he Fucking Dies. Whoops!

- He gets better his boyfriend (for real now lmao) is an aspiring necromancer and God’s Pet Freak (there’s a lot. Behind that. more later) and he very pointedly doesn’t believe in magic or saints or anything but also his chest cavity did very much get exploded and he’s fine now (besides the lingering Effects) so like.

- He deals with this by 1. Contacting his supervisor who lets the higher ups know there’s been An Incident. 2. Going back to work as soon as they’ll let him (like three days later). and 3. Getting himself transferred to the security division and becoming Ari’s dad’s bodyguard so he doesn’t have an excuse to go hang out at the tower anymore and he doesn’t have to look at any of those emotions he can just Focus on his Work <3

- Obviously that does not go well for him.

SENECA “ARI” FINCH

- they/them/any

- 25

- 5’2

- Enneagram 5w6

- Mad scientist

- Nepo baby

- Front desk intern for the RF financial department

- Aspiring necromancer

- God’s Pet Freak

- If you’ve ever wondered what happens when you raise a child in one of those beige instagrammable influencer houses. It’s this.

- Their dad is the puppet city governor for the RF (Kyrie wants him dead so goddamn bad)(he’s kind of a useless twink but he’s an easy guy to blame for all this shit)

- Their mom died when they were like 8 of something pretty regular and they have since dedicated pretty much their entire life to Bringing Her Back

- (No they were not especially close or anything why do you ask?)

- TECHNICALLY their dad, knowing their passion for Science (and not much else about them) got them a cushy RF job developing biotech to make the cool individualized tech weapons

- In practice, they got their funding and their fancy work lab and immediately proceeded to squirrel just about everything useful from it downstairs to their own personal lab in the basement (not on the floor plan) where they don’t have to worry about things like “supervision” “safety regulations” “proper ventilation” “their job” etc

- They are still doing their job but they’re getting it done in like. Two days out of the month and spending literally all the rest of their time on the necromancy

- It’s gotten to the point where they’re not even clocking in upstairs anymore so they made them take a couple shifts a week at the front desk of the financial department just so they have something on record to pay them for

- They’re okay with this! it’s fun to switch it up and there’s snacks in the breakroom

- I cannot emphasize enough how much they Do Not Leave the horrifying unventilated unethical science basement. there’s a couch in the corner and a sink and an employee bathroom in the stairwell what more could they need.

- One of the early plotlines is centered around Getting Them To Go Outside (really outside, not just to the regular parts of the RF building) and like. Idk. Maybe seeing a leaf or smth would be good for them)

- where they also wind up meeting and hanging out w Kyrie and El, doing some upkeep on Kyrie’s fancy sword, and being Absolutely Fascinated by St Ely’s Tower (there’s some generally buried Magic Shit that perks up when them and El are in the room together)

- BECAUSE!!! (And this is why they haven’t succumbed to the Fumes in the horrifying unventilated unethical science basement, or the gas leak in there from the pipe main running through the middle of it that they’ve been siphoning off of, or any of the experiments they do on themself bc they can’t get any other test subjects and also bc they wouldn’t trust anyone else’s testimony as to What It’s Like) the magic, which is how Ely built the city (and how all of the other saints Did Their Things as well but that’s a whole other can of worms) is a vapor that lives underground and speaks no human language but saw this little freak trying to defy the laws of nature from their hole in the ground and took a liking to them

- It can’t bring their mom back bc she’s been dead for fifteen years and it never met her so it wouldn’t even know where to start

- But it likes them! It follows them around and keeps them alive and helps with their experiments :)

- (they remind it of Saint Ely, who was a similarly tiny passionate freak, but that’s also a whole other can of worms)

- Ari is not aware of this in the slightest.

- Their second arc is getting Disappeared from legal existence (very easy. They live in a basement and barely ever leave it and don’t really talk to people), realizing that they are in fact mortal and could potentially die someday, and trying to contact their dad to make sure he knows they’re okay. (Doesn’t work. They’ve been disappeared and are no longer allowed past the front desk.)

- Their third arc (during the communal breakdown era. Kyrie’s abandoned by god arc where she decides to run away from her problems in a literal sense and Alonzo’s evil arc where stops speaking to everybody and dives headfirst into his job at the war crimes factory) is deciding that the same thing happened to their mom and the necromancy isn’t working because she’s NOT actually dead which means she’s out there somewhere and they can find her! :)

- That is not even a little bit true. :(

EL (no last name)

- he/him (woman)

- Doesn’t really have an age. They don’t really exist in time in the usual sense

- 5’0

- Enneagram 9w1

- Lives in the tower

- Just kind of showed up there one day as a kid and has been living there ever since

- There’s a nearby convent of some kind that fed and clothed them growing up (same place that looked after Kyrie and Alonzo after they were orphaned)

- Kind of a reincarnation of Saint Ely. not in so many steps bc again. Out of time and who knows how long he’s been there but like. He’s back for more but he’s a lady with an ounce of common sense this time. It’s unclear how much he’s aware of this part of it. He knows the tower is important, and he knows restoring the murals inside of it is important. I don’t think he knows why.

- only guy in this found family who’s even remotely capable of coping with the idea of death (he already did that)(kind of psychopomp coded about it)

- Kyrie’s best friend and second in command so much as she has a command. Weird homoerotic gay thing going on there. I assume there’s some of the traditional St Ely brand of devotion but like

- (And by traditional I mean I don’t think that’s a widely known thing about Ely the Saint but it is one of the more prominent things about Ely the Guy)

- Spends most of his time restoring the tower and the murals inside that nobody has seen in years

- (That’s a whole thing)(different can of worms)

- This is @nosongunsung11’s guy so I’ll tap them in for the details but I think that’s the basics!!

AN “PUNK” JANG

- they/them (lesbian)(in gender moreso than practice)

- 35 but they’re lying about it. actually 33

- 5’5

- Enneagram 1w2 😬

- Twin fancy tech rapiers

- The previous Special Little Guy/Mascot/face of the RF

- Ran away from home, changed their name, and lied about their age to join up when they were 16 and they’ve just kind of been going off that ever since

- Went by Punk for a while towards the beginning of their career bc they were 16/17 and it Sounded Cool and it would up becoming almost like their callsign (that’s what Alonzo calls them bc he was very much an enjoyer when he was a kid. They were like Spider-Man to him. Blorbo from the news.)(and he continues to call them that bc he’s a little shit.)

- (They wound up naming themselves after Saint Anjane of Strength not because they believe in any saints but because they desperately wish they did and this way at least they can pretend they know what it might feel like to have that kind of faith.)(in a fun and funky coincidence, they’re actually very very similar to Saint Anjane herself. El has some Complicated Emotions about this.)(long story. It’s Saint Ely’s Monument but it’s also the closest thing he has to a grave— he pulled it out of the ground so he could be alone w/ Anje’s body after he got to her execution too late to talk her out of it)

- Got shunted when Kyrie showed up and was infinitely more personable due to her heroics in SciFantasy 9/11 (long story. Building exploded.) and general bright-eyed and bushy tailed unjaded Disposition

- And by shunted I mean promoted to middle management in the Murder Department

- They’re fine with this it’s significantly less work on their end

- They do make sure after that to have everything they need for basic living separated from the job though

- Only guy in this found family with their own actual apartment. And basic cooking skills. And healthy sleep schedule.

- When Alonzo gets into the Murder Department they wind up as his immediate supervisor!

- Exciting prospect at first! He’s a high profile assignment (hostage) and also an easy assignment (does all of his paperwork on time, completes his missions Quietly and Efficiently, doesn’t really do anything interesting at all)

- Less exciting prospect once they actually work with him. He’s a little shit and a motherfucker and he knows exactly what he’s doing

- They can’t stop covering for him at this point without doing a hell of a lot of paperwork and jeopardizing their own job so they’re stuck now

- Also. unfortunately. they got attached. They’re not the step-older sibling, they’re the older sibling who stepped up.

- They’re the one who arrests Kyrie at the beginning of the story and kick off the whole first half of the plot, but they also wind up putting in their two weeks after Alonzo Gets Fucking Killed and then immediately goes back to work

- They do it significantly better than Kyrie tho they keep their apartment and their bank account and return most of their uniforms so the rf doesn’t have any reason to come after them besides Aiding and Abetting (and also trespassing. On the protected historical site that is St Ely’s monument. But that’s the least of anyone’s worries here.)

- They wind up kind of taking charge of the. whatever the hell these guys are doing. during the Communal Breakdowns arc. they would really prefer not to be doing this but somebody has to. So.

- Also during that arc they wind up facing off with Alonzo and boy howdy is there a reason they got assigned as the rf’s Special Little Guy and he didn’t, bc he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell even with them holding back

AND THAT’S THE MAIN CAST! Thank you for coming to my ted talk! (Get it?) I’ve hit the image limit on mobile so I’ll come back and add the before/after pictures in a reblog bc I had fun making those

[the1975attheirverybest]

I’m the anon who asked about the SATVB openers looking for work post-tour 🙋‍♀️

I actually work in the music industry and honestly that’s very normal for newer/smaller/up-and-coming bands like been stellar to pick up “regular” jobs in between tours. Kinda unfortunate but just the reality of touring post-Covid. Things have gotten so expensive and even bigger bands are hardly making profits from shows, especially considering how many people/staff they have to pay for touring, production, etc. And most of it is Ticketmaster/venues that are making the profits (ik we all know this lol).

Especially considering that been stellar is relatively new (I think? Honestly I don’t know much about them/their history) some bands will offer to take a pay cut to support a larger act/tour because the exposure may benefit them more in the long run. Considering the success of ATVB/SATVB, how viral the tour went, and (in all honesty) the attention Matty’s had in the past year — I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. That would be at the band’s/their managers decision to take a pay cut for exposure (although they’re signed DH I doubt jamie o is their manager but I don’t really know haha).

Ik it sucks but more musicians/artists/creatives do precarious work in between gigs to make ends meet than you think 🤷‍♀️. lol I mean think of how many famous pop stars who own brands/take tv gigs and don’t tour anymore (not saying theyre struggling for money but touring is hard and not as profitable as it used to be). Especially considering DH is an indie label, these newer artists aren’t signing massive deals that’ll allow them to live in mansions and stuff lol. It’s the reality of the industry but who doesn’t have a side gig these days the way the economy is rn haha

So I wouldn’t necessarily say DH is a bad label (I honestly don’t know — theyve produced many successful acts & every label/business has drama behind the scenes). But even if they were a bad label, the onus isn’t necessarily on the label for what they get paid for touring.

Not trying to start any drama or ramble too much lol! Ik this convo started bc of the current Rina drama which really intrigues me.

Wow and I thought the publishing industry was bad. This fuckin sucks. Can artists not make art anymore. I figured since it’s not their own lil tour and it’s supporting a much bigger artist it would pay better.

Idk. DH definitely needs to do more to at least promote their people. Their posts are hit or miss like it’s not consistent but I don’t know what their deal is. They’ve signed some amazing artists they should back them more. Just feel bad for the guy like he just came off tour he should at least have some wiggle room. Ugh creativity never pays under capitalism.

[hausofmamadas]

ALL ABOARD THE POBRECITO EXPRESSWAY | The Man, the myth, the OG Pobrecito, Javier Peña

♫ To the tune of One for the Road by Arctic Monkeys ♫

✧

Wow, okay Jesus H Christ. I made another thing? A thing I never thought I’d make. Bc frankly, I’m an insufferable contrarian to my grave, despite the fact that I hate hipsters. I do see the irony. I don’t really— Okay, look. Listen. Doing a massively popular fanfav character has always seemed like a lot of hoopla? There’s already so much content out there, and I’m always like my favs have to be randos that only had like 3 lines in the whole show “Meeeh, what do I have to say that hasn’t already been said. What do I have to add that hasn’t been done yet?” tbh I’m not at all confident that another One for the Road Javier Peña edit isn’t already out there bc the combo is like PB&J

But there is good news porque por lo visto, parece que tengo un bien chinga de cosas que decir about our Javier Peña. He is, as everyone knows, a multi-faceted man: he’s a lover, hes a fighter, but most importantly he is the OG sad!boi, sad sack, bury my feelings in any woman within a 5mi radius bc I prefer that to processing trauma bc who needs sanity or true human connection and King Pobrecito, for which we members of the Narcos/Nmx Fanfic Writer’s Discord have dubbed him, Conductor of the Pobrecito Expressway.

Oh praytell, what is the Pobrecito Expressway? So veryfuckingglad you asked you didn’t, shhhh. It is a train driven by Javi head engineer is naturally, Walt Breslin that dutifully shepherds passenger cars of similarly precious, forlorn pobrecitos from the Narcos/Nmx franchise.

Now, to be a pobrecito, one must have:

a) sad puppy eyes b) a personal life in shambles c) a will to succeed at all costs including their sanity and at the expense of those around them d) Many Problems, not entirely of their own making but that are undoubtedly exacerbated by the their inability to reconcile their emotional natures with the toxically masculine environments they are immersed in namely The Law and/or a Life of Crime.

And let me do tell you, there are many. Actually it might be easier to list those not on this crazy train. Hmm, so btwn the 2 shows, it'd be: Steve, Kiki, Benjamin, Miguel who did try to board the train but everyone hated him so much, they threw him off the back, Pacho, Chepe, Gilberto altho Navegante does, from time to time, end up rail hopping and everyone’s always yelling at him bc he is neither Big Sad, nor does he have a ticket. Oh, and I feel like it goes without saying, none of the incredible women are on this train. No, they’re enjoying champagne on a private jet pa’ todas las pendejadas they���ve had to deal with.

But yeah, basically everyone else is there. All food groups equally represented. Just moping from passenger car to the restaurant car, chain smoking, trying to untangle themselves from the red string they’ve been pinning to their walls, or trying and failing to remember how many drinks they’ve had and if there’s enough blow on the train to make them feel sober enough to continue drinking (you know who you are…. Rafa, Ramón.) And at the head of this train of absurdity is a one Javi Peña! A light(?) in the dark, to show them the way thru Pobre-dom. Which is to say he has no guidance, no idea where he’s going, doesn’t have a license even to conduct a train, pero se fue alaverga and we out here and no one’s crashed yet so! yay?

Anyway, I’ll shut up now. Here’s the thing I made.

✧

✧

taglist: @narcolini @ashlingnarcos @cositapreciosa @purplesong1028 @mandaloria314 @artemiseamoon @thesolotomyhan @narcos-narcosmx @tinylittleobsessions @salt-is-a-terrible-currency @anunhealthydoseofangst @criatividad-e @dashavau @cherixrosa @complete-nonsequitur

[camgirlsurvivalguide]

Goooood morning Survivors -- back at it with my favourite procrastination strategy: making e-books instead of shooting for OF! Love that for me.

Anyhow,

Tier systems and exclusivity marketing have always been at the forefront of my personal approach to my business. My two overarching goals with online SW are to make a lot of money (duh) while also keeping myself and my subscribers happy. For the camgirl migrators who used to live stream and then worked our way over to content creation platforms - I feel like some of our foundational knowledge has been forgotten, and I’m here to remind everyone that the way we used to do things is still a really good approach even on OF.

On M/FC, we focused our energy on premium members, and always offered more attention to tippers than to basics or non-tippers. This helped us focus on where the money was actually coming from, and rewarding tippers with more attention/special treatment plus access to things that others didn’t receive (videos, VIP status, club memberships etc) made tipping look more attractive to non-tippers. 

Somehow on OF, practices have shifted - and I argue they’ve shifted in ways that really don’t benefit all of us very well, or very often. I’ve paid for “shout outs” from top creators twice now, and both times it’s involved giving out a number of free trials to my page. Both times I’ve paid over $200 and received a grand total of zero fucking dollars in the end - the free trials were used over 50 times, and NONE of those new “subscribers” paid me a damn dime. The only people benefiting were the seller, who pocketed my $200, and the seller’s subscribers who got free access to my page for a month (and then proceeded to spend absolutely nothing). Maybe this works for others, maybe there are criteria that I need to follow more carefully, bla bla bla - the bottom line is I think this practice mainly circles around from top creator to top creator while providing the buyer themselves - aka me, in this situation - with next to nothing. Now if I sold a “shout out” with a free trial link to someone else and then gave all my subscribers a month of free access to a different creators page, sure, some of them may click it - but they’re also more likely to stick with me for the chance to get free subs elsewhere.

Make sense? Because when it makes sense, it just kind of sucks. For me, I mean. For the other two parties it’s great - but I’m out here trying to make me money first and foremost. The second piece, as per old M/FC knowledge, is I’m trying to make the people who actually support me happy so they continue to do so. 

This is where my e-book comes in. I’ve had more than half of my current subscribers for more than a year, with probably a third of that half having been subscribed for two or more years. At current, 125 active subs have spent $1000 or more on my page - and that’s out of just 275 total subscribers at the moment (it’s low bc I broke my fucking wrist and can barely lift a spoon to my mouth without dropping food, let alone shoot sexy content lol).

What I’m getting at here is that I’ve learned how to make people happy enough to stay long term and spend a lot. I do this using exclusivity marketing, which helps me maintain my own boundaries (I only really want a small group of top tier supporters seeing my most explicit content, which helps me keep leaks lower and makes me feel better about what I release) and allows me to charge $100 plus for a single video, because I know the individuals I’m sharing it with are way more likely to purchase expensive stuff. This is personal experience that I feel strongly enough about to sell to you as a tutorial book. As always, I’m never going to offer something for sale that I haven’t personally utilized with strong reward, so the book is a massive source of information not just for newbies but especially for long term creators. 

At this point, because of how I’ve set myself up, even if I lost access to every single social media account I own, I know I’d still be able to make a handsome income because I don’t rely on advertising or a constant influx of new subscribers for the bulk of my income. Advertising is always necessary, but if you set yourself up right, it’s not 100% crucial to be doing every single day. As always, I’m sleepy and I have a huge brain so I prefer to work smart, not hard. 

Anyhow, thanks for listening to me rant. I really hope the book benefits some of y’all because I think we could all use a bit more of this strategy and a bit less mad scrambling to secure new subs every day. Are you tired? I’m fucking tired. Doing things this way is a little less tiring. 

[sanstropfremir]

My expectations for MAMA stages are essentially nonexistent because I’ve learned my lesson from previous years, but I am holding out some hope that Forestella, Hyolyn, and Monika can save the day at least. And maybe KARA but it’s been too long to know exactly what we’re getting there, so they’re more of a wild card. But otherwise anything quality from the other groups will be a bonus, since they’re almost all young groups or mnet projects or hybe. (And no sm groups again??? A travesty). Just please, no more lore at the expense of actual performance 😭

we're not holding out a lot of hope for mama rn. mnet gets one (1) additional point in advance from me for having a monika and lim young woong collab stage bc i think that's going to be interesting, but it's pretty much those three/four that are holding up my wilting expectations. i think the kara stage is more likely to be good than not, simply on nostalgia factor alone, but even if logisically the performance is somehow bad it's still likely to be fun to watch. but yes, anything else that's good is gonna be a bonus. it is really strange that sm has pulled all their artists from awards show performances this seaon, since they take up a big presence in the industry and boy the lineups are feeling pretty empty without them. that winter concert/gala event or whatever that thing is they're planning better be fucking massive.

[lamb-of-elderberries]

Unknown date, long dream, stressful and couldn’t wake up:

Gay uncles and the sand man

Visiting uncles Matt and Henry (do not exist but they’re gay and have huskies). Then in the night this tall lanky man with a rain stick?? Kind of thing and this kind of humming tone starts walking around, I run to my uncles bed and they start throwing sand, which makes him back off but only a little. This continues, it’s not clear what happens if he catches us. He seems to be specifically after Matt. There’s a demon outside who had tried to get me/Dean bc this was a supernatural skit before I got into the house (she tried to black smoke me out of a dream and then I/Dean was kidnapped by sand.) I got on the roof to talk to her and her hellhounds who couldn’t get in like theres a barrier. I went back inside and Matt is choosing to make a run for the junk pile (think that one episode of love death and robots or wall-e but more expensive stuff) so I follow him and circle back around when I see the guy. At this point it’s gone from mid-night to mid morning. I run back to the house with Henry, who is making a break for their climbing wall. I run after him and also start climbing. The man starts climbing to Henry’s left (I’m to the right by a bit) and gets wrapped up. I cant quite tell if it’s intentional. They’ve tried killing him before, but this time Matt comes up and start hitting the man’s head on a large hold, and the two of them start swinging him around until the rope snaps and he drops into the massive ravine below, down through the sky if that makes sense. Tldr gay uncles live in really high up sky cabin with evil sand man following them.

[peachyteabuck]

This is a very long reflection post so read if you want to. It’s very word vomity though so watch out

I’m doing an no-buy year, which has quickly morphed into a low-buy year. I’m 21, my partner is 22, and we’re still coming into our own. How can we do a no-buy year when our essentials include measuring spoons and stuff for work? I’m still building my wardrobe. They’re still building theirs. It’s not possible to stave off all buying, in all honesty. However, the low-buy year is going well. Rocket Money is the tool we’re using to keep track of spending. The app isn’t perfect (I’m a freelancer, so keeping track of my income is a nightmare) and i make a lot of purchases that I just charge them 1/2 for, so I’m not sure how much of the spending is accurate. But i think it’s going well. The issue is it takes a lot of time. So much fucking time. To plan out grocery lists and crock pot meals and lunches and strategically buying wardrobe choices. It also sucks when I buy pants for example and they just don’t fucking fit. I want to be body neutral, and appreciate my body for all that it can do, but it’s hard when I try to express that via my dollars and it blows back in my face. Even big bud press pants have their issues, and theyre the only pants i wear regularly

I’m started to realizing i can’t have everything i want in terms of what i want to do. There literally is not enough time. Every day i finish 99% of what i want to leaves me physically wrecked. My brain cannot fit that much stuff in it. I can’t read the books I want because i want to give them time/attention and i just fucking can’t. I hate delegating tasks and asking for help, and when my PCP tried to send me to collections i literally begged my mom to help me. I’m glad she/my stepmom were able to, but that was such a massive blow. Hyper independence is a fucking joke, which sucks.

I need to write more. It makes me feel better. I have commissions to finish. But writing fills me with dread because i hate everything I write. I just want to write and finish things but I literally fucking cannot. I remember watching some lawyer’s expertise talk on a video platform my mom paid for and he was like “writers write despite everything.” I literally can’t fucking do that. I think everyone thinks i have more time than I do. The principal for the school im student teaching at wants to put me in the substitute system so I can work “on my off days.” The 2.5 days I’m not in the classroom i am either at work or in class. Im in student government. I volunteer. What fucking off days. The weekend?? When you’re not open?? BFFR. Idk how I’m going to make up the two snow days we had. Lying, probably. Idk if this is sustainable but i don’t know what my other option is. Everything is too expensive.

I need to buy a pill holder for my Ritalin/caffeine pills/pain killers. I just need to find one with labels bc im an idiot.

The little stuff keeps falling through the cracks and becoming big stuff. I think i need to make a notion page where I track how often things actually take and rate their energy usage bc this is becoming a problem. I just cannot girlboss and work nonstop for 12 hours. My brain literally cannot handle that.

I need to sleep more. But to do that i need to do enough “non-necessary things” to give my brain a break.

I really need my Ritalin back. I was not super regulated to begin with, but the Ritalin helped so fucking much. I could get everything done and sleep at a reasonable time bc my brain was sufficiently worn out in all areas. Im self medicating with caffeine rn but Jesus Christ i want my meds back.

Anyway. My goals for February are to track expenses weekly (sun-sat) and do daily habits in my notebook and not notion bc i constantly forget to do that shit. We’ll see. I wish i was better at this stuff & i wish i was more forgiving with myself & i wish i didn’t feel the need to be The Best all of the time.

[onsunnyside]

…reader and her friends Steve, Ransom, Ari, Chris and Jake who are mystery/ghost hunters?

Sometimes even though they requested 2 rooms, the motel is overbooked and *gasp* there’s only one bed? But they’re all just super platonic best friends right? Nothing will happen. 👀 …right?

Or…it’s been a few days since they’ve been able to afford to have a single-bed room at a hotel (Ransom’s currently arguing with Harlan so he’s cut off at the moment and Ari and reader hustle pool/flirt to get gas/hotel fare) and if Jake just NEEDS to take care of his boner right then and there in the van so he can focus on the next case, well…reader’s always wanted to give road head. And it’s now or never (except it then happens…a lot) 🤷🏼‍♀️

WHOOPS IT HORNY HOURS IM SORRY.

OMG WAIT I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE A ROADTRIP AU, I LITERALLY HAVE NOTES/PLOTPOINTS/THE RV NAME SAVED IN A DOC !! 

characters i have in mind: ari, jake, steve. now.. perhaps ransom is the rich guy who constantly pops up wherever the group is staying bc he has a massive crush on the reader, and always tries to woo her with expensive and shiny things !! but no, our reader is into the little knick knacks, collecting bottle caps, postcards and ‘just the normal things, fancy things don’t do it for me’ but ransom still tries anyway. (You didn’t hear it from me, but they meet a rugged biker with a buzzcut who joins their little group !!)

reader is the number one flirt, responsible for their free gas, free food, free rooms and ehem... ari does it too, but isn't as good ☺️ plus people are intimidated by him. she hooks up with people on the road, going on dates and being 'the one that got away' for all those poor souls. Steve is the certified mechanic and bartender, he’ll usually pick up a job at a bar if they’re staying long. jake is the sweetest fella on the planet, ofc a tech head but he’s also the cook !! Perhaps ari does a bunch of stuff, usually working at the most obscure places who are desperate enough to hire some guy (florist, music shop, bakery). 

I’d write this with an endgame, meaning it would be centred on two characters getting together in the end, no gang bangs here. Me thinks ari would be perfect for a friends-to-lovers/idiots in love. Similar to erotica but a completely different storyline, I’d add a tad of ex’s-to-lovers bc yes, reader and ari went on a few dates, they still do, but it just never works out. Definitely blue balling the rest of the friends. The vibes would be more like a photo album, lots of Polaroids, watching the sunrise/sunset, sharing beds in crappy motels, using fake names for fun in different cities, and just about a group of friends who are each other’s safe place. 

now this is not the horny thot any of you were expecting but a road trip au is on my bucket list !! i must look away from all my wips... while adding this one to the never-ending list

[ask-buddy-lewek]

[So I’ve been thinking about an Au I came up with like last night, basically, it’s this spin off idea based on “what if all 5 of the BATIM novel kids had met and become a good group of friends somehow, probably all investigating the ink and the machine somehow together,

So this specific AU is sort of like a Prince and the Pauper type deal between Buddy and Bill (bc I just absolutely believe if they had met, they’d just get along so well, regardless of their economic statuses being so drastically different, and I will absolutely die on this hill)

So the basic gist of this AU idea is:

Buddy and Bill agree to see what it’s like to live in the other’s lifestyle, for say, about a week or two or maybe 3, like, long enough to get an idea for what a normal way of life is like for the other. And I just keep getting so many ideas about the amount of culture shock these two experience during this little swap, Bill realizing just how mindful he has to be about things like keeping lights on for too long, how he probably doesn’t know how to do his own laundry or cook for himself, realizing just how much responsibility he now has to help Bud’s family make it through the week(s) he’s staying there in Bud’s place and just how hard it is to try and make ends meet for people in Bud’s place. Meanwhile, Bud’s probably just in absolute disbelief about the concept of having people work for him (like The Chambers’s house staff), the idea of someone doing something if he asks them (very politely, mind you) to, maybe even just getting overwhelmed by the idea that he not only has fancier clothing, but MULTIPLE SUITS AND EXPENSIVE GLOVES AND ALL THAT JAZZ.

The panic that it’s so painfully obvious they’re so far out of their regular element, that at first it feels almost impossible to adjust. Buddy suddenly having to learn all this very specific etiquette, fancy table mannerisms, realizing just how materialistic and powerful the Chambers family (Mainly Bill’s dad) is, and how immensely important it is to maintain a specific, well kept appearance, how everything has to look perfect, spotless, a stained shirt is immediately discarded for a clean, crisp one, utensils with even a small smudge are swapped out for spotless shiny new ones, all of this superficial yet massive effort to just put on a show for those below them. Where as Bill’s probably now having to try and manage a language barrier (since I’ve always pictured that the Lewek Family spoke in Yiddish and/or Polish at home), Bill having to try and learn all these phrases and expressions, not to mention the language barrier between Bud’s grandfather and himself.

Buddy having to deal with the ignorant ramblings of Bill’s father, slowly realizing just how lucky he is that Bill doesn’t share any of these immensely ignorant and massively classist views. Where as Bill being shocked at how warm and welcoming and understanding Irena is of his struggles with what seem like such basic day to day tasks like laundry or cleaning. (I’ve always imagined that Irena would see Bill like a second son to her after a while, not really caring that he comes from riches or wealth, because he’s still polite and very open minded about how different their cultures and lives are).

Buddy suddenly having more free time on his hands then he knows what to do with, while Bill discovers how little time he has to himself between running errands, helping out around the apartment, not to mention I’d imagine that when the two swap lives temporarily, they also swap jobs. Bill having to find his way around JDS and just getting almost hopelessly lost making deliveries (thankfully Dot would be there to give him a hand if he needed one), and Bud having to take Bill’s place working at Gent, and therefore, having to actually work closer with Mr. Connor, who already probably intimidates him immensely while he’s making deliveries at the studio.

I’d genuinely imagine that both boys learn how hard the other has it, and while they had always kind of known this to begin with, they never realized to what extent it actually was. Buddy suddenly being surrounded by people looking down upon or judging those who aren’t as well off, where as Bill discovering the amount of judgement and prejudice that people like Buddy have to live with on a day to day basis.

I could go on for days about the various elements and differences these two would experience in this AU, I really could, but this post is getting pretty lengthy as it is 😅.

But that being said though, what do you guys think? Would this be an idea you’d want to see explored a bit more somehow? Let me know if possible!]

[peachiimilquetea]

𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

im not a bnha blog however i have some things i feel like i just want to scream about! some of these are based on his birth chart too so if you’re into astrology i hope you enjoy that aspect as well!

length: 780 words

tenya loves spicy food

he looks like he wouldn’t be built for it but he’s actually got a pretty high pain tolerance

he adds chili pepper to literally everything

he also has a massive sweet tooth so sometimes when he confiscates peoples snacks in class, he eats them himself later

if you’re one of his closer friends (or his s/o) he’ll share them with you

he spends like $80 a week on honey buns from the vending machine

tenya also has a scorpio moon so i think that like bakugo he loves love/romance HOWEVER instead of romance manga, he reads corny ass wattpad stories as a guilty pleasure

mina made a joke about her wattpad phase once and it led to his demise bc he was too damn curious and he just had to look it up

if you ask him directly about it he will deny it but he’s a voracious reader and can finish like 4 books a week

they’re so bad but they’re so good lmao

he enjoys correcting the writers’ grammar as he reads and complaining about how cliche the plot is but he just cant stop reading

iida is also the only boy in class 1-A that actually takes care of himself lowkey

i think he’s got a better skincare routine than me tbh

it’s simple, yes, but expensive and it works wonders on his skin and on yours

he owns a jade roller. no questions asked

i also see him as the type of person who’s scared of putting in contact lenses BDHSNSVSJSNS

like he’s got so much anxiety around accidentally poking an eye out he just can’t muster up the courage to do it

especially bc his hands are so big for no reason

he does own contacts tho, they literally just sit in his bathroom cabinet

speaking of his sweet tooth again, tenya cannot drink black coffee

i’ve seen some people say that’s his order when the deku-squad goes to starbucks or smth but no i think he gets like 15 pumps of caramel in a grande cup BEHSNSVSAJAN

his attention to detail is impeccable

he’s got a virgo mercury and mars he literally notices EVERYTHING

this makes him a very good gift giver bc he literally remembers everything about you and keeps a mental note

uhhh let’s see what else

tenya is rhythm blind SVDHSNSBAKAKA

he cannot dance to save his own life

lord knows how he fakes his way through all the hero charity galas and stuff his family hosts

he can only do a two step if you count for him

he’s a pretty decent singer tho

very shy about it tho

if you get him under the influence of a substance he will definitely do karaoke and he’ll make everyone look bad bc he’s really good

that’s his leo sun talking fr

he’s also a sneaker head surprisingly

it sounds like it doesn’t make sense HOWEVER hear me out

he runs all the time everywhere for training and stuff, constantly trying to beat his PR

so he goes through running shoes very easily

but he doesn’t want to get the exact same ones every single time so he switches it up

then he fell down the rabbit hole of lifestyle sneakers and here we are

i don’t know if he dresses the part but i don’t think he wears stiff ass polos and dress pants all the time

that makes no sense bc how tf will his big ass calves fit in the pants BDBSJSNSJA

so streetwear actually makes a little bit more sense

just imagine tenya in baggy khaki pants and jordan 1s

and a baggy sweater vest omg

giving very much tyler the creator vibes

i think it fits him tbh

especially as he gets older and figures out what he likes to wear as opposed to what his parents put him in

ALSO tenya is very into the humanities and social sciences

he wouldve gotten into the arts but mans cant draw for his life either

fortunately he can read like hell so he consumes copious amounts of political and philosophical theory for funsies

based iida⁉️⁉️⁉️

also a polyglot maybe?

dont ask me what specific languages but most likely japanese, english, mandarin and spanish

hes one of those people whos like "oh i read an article about that!" whenever you mention something new

but not in a condescending way he just genuinely wants to show you that he relates to whatever you're talking about

he prides himself on being a walking encycloepdia just so he can help everyone

thats all ive got for now but im definitely gonna post more if i can think of any

[keilemlucent]

if you are interested, i would like to present my dear salem with hero hawks and his little horny crush on his innocent assistant bc man’s corruption kink go brrrrrr😇

okay look LOOK i have... such a thing for hawks getting a h*rd on for his sweet, far-too kind PA.

(NSFW)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: dubcon, coersion, (a little bit of) yandere hawks, reader wears lingerie, reader is sorta oblivious,  sugar daddy hawks, scumbag hawks, power imbalance, hawks is a manipulative bastard but its hot so who cares <3

...

“Are you sure this is... appropriate, sir?” 

No, no, definitely not, not at all. Taking his sweet, desperately-in-need-of-a-break PA out on a little shopping spree was definitely crossing a lot of professional lines, but how could he care? He was far more focused on the wobbly way ‘sir’ had dripped off your tongue.

It wasn’t sin, but he’d get you there, he was quite persuasive. 

The little shopping trip (literally) landed you at a luxury mall across Fukuoka, many-floored and lavishing decorated with twinkling, bright bulbs and crystal on every fixture. The stores were expensive, too expensive for you to afford on your own but Keigo knew how hard you’d been working! All that extra paperwork (he’d been purposefully giving you because it kept you around the office later and more often) had been getting done beautifully, and you deserved a treat. Many of them. 

Consider it an early bonus.

You already had quite a few bags dangling off your arms, the cords and ribbons digging into your arms (god, he wished he could make some marks of his own--). And Keigo had decided to treat you to one, final stop. He guided you to the store entrance with a hand on your lower back.

God help you, a lingerie store.

Nothing cheap, only custom-made and designer pieces. It was more of a boutique, some places private where no one would bother the two of you. 

He watched your expression, the pull of your brows and the way your pupils dilated. It might’ve been from a bit of ill-placed stress, but he’s sure he can get your eyes just as inky other ways, if given the opportunity. 

“This is remarkably appropriate, dove,” He hummed and ushered you inside the store entrance, flashing a grin to the starry-eyed salesclerk. His hand drifted downward, just over the upper curves of your ass, just to watch you squirm. “Consider it a reward! You’ve been doing so much good for me and the agency, you deserve a treat or two, don’t you think?”

You shifted the bags on your arms and dared to meet his gaze with your own, meek and wide, “I-I think this is more than ‘a treat or two’--”

“Then shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, thanking me for my generosity then?” Keigo smirked as your expression faltered. You were way too easy and god, he fucking loved it.

Before you had a chance to fret anymore, he assured you quietly that everything was alright. A bit of praise to ice the pinpricks he left behind. He shooed you into the fitting rooms, pointing a beaming smile at a clerk and getting to work. 

He’d have you spoiled, whether you liked it or not.

...

You sat on the plush bench of the fitting room, hands in fist and lip tucked between your teeth. You chewed on it, swallowing around your dry throat. Hawks’ voice drifted back from the salesfloor, though you couldn’t tell what he was saying. You could pick up words like ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’ and you could only assume the words were about the bright-eyed, big-titted employee you saw when you walked in.

You squeeze the fabric of your skirt and tried to let some of the tension in your shoulders dissipate. 

“Oh, wow, dove, the selection they have here is amazing!” Hawks whistled as he returned to the fitting room, alone, carrying an armful of padded, velvet hangers. 

“I can imagine,” You wished you could have looked around a bit yourself, but Hawks had a much better eye for these things than you did. You were very fortunate to have him around. 

He arranged them on a gold railing nearby, wings tucked to his back as to not crowd the small space of the dressing room.

It was truly just a single room, though it was large enough. Six-sided, each wall complete with a well-padded, velvet bench seat to idle on. The middle of the room had a little raised platform, leading to three, angled mirrors. They were massive and felt a bit too revealing as Hawks hummed to himself nearby.

The only thing separating you from the rest of the store was a heavy, velvet draping. 

Hawks plopped onto the cushion next to you, letting out a deep sigh and leaning back. You watched him, gaze flickering from the garments on the rack and the exposed patch of his chest visible from the unpopped buttons of his shirt. 

His feathers brushed up against your arm and you shuddered.

“Now, sweet thing,” He clicked his tongue, jerking his gaze to the hangers. “I picked out some pretty sweet pieces for you. Why don’t you try them on and let me know what you think, hm?”

You nodded, though your stomach felt like there was suddenly lead in it. From the looks of the lace and silks, those pieces weren't going to cover much of anything. You mentally sparred with yourself.

It’s not... that bad. It’s not like he’s going to see anything more than he would if you were wearing a swimsuit. 

Besides, this a gift, right? You should at least show him what he’d paid for on an actual body. 

He had you so well-trained--

You stood, moving to the rack on shaking legs and examining the pieces.

They’re all... a bit whorish. None of those soft babydolls and teddies that folks wore in those softcore pornos that you definitely never watched. The pieces Hawks picked for you aren’t the least bit modest. They’re all lace, mesh, and ribbons. Stockings and garters that looked like they might be a tich too snug. You grab the least garish-looking piece. 

And Hawks was still in the room, body lax and slumped against the cushions.

His eyes lazily opened, a bushy brow-raising, “You good, dove?” 

“... Aren’t you gonna step out?” 

He chuckled and you knew you were fucked. Just not literally, not yet. 

“Why the hell would I do that?” Hawks laughed and righted himself. His vibrant gold eyes bore into yours, though they looked more black than topaz by that point. 

You swallowed. 

“I would prefer if you d-did.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice oozed something that made your knees weak. “What then? I know you don’t like disappointing me.”

You didn’t, but this was a bit far. ‘A bit’. 

“... s-sir, please,” You begged, albeit quietly. 

This was crossing lines. As much as Hawks gave you special treatment at the agency, literally and figuratively taking you under his wing and tending to your needs as he saw them and has he saw fit, stripping and playing dress-up in expensive lingerie definitely was too far.

As much as part of you adored the attention, you tried to keep that quiet. Stuffed down and hidden. Hawks was your boss, and you had to keep yourself occupied with his busy schedule and mountains of paperwork, lest you allow yourself to dissolve into thinking his attentions were anything other than favoritism. 

Oh my god, you really were that dense

“’Please’?” Hawks cocked his head to the side, the corners of his lips curling. “‘Please’ what, dovey? Tell me.”

You let out a shaking breath, “Hawks, this is remarkably inappropriate--” 

“Maybe,” He cuts you off swiftly, a flap of his wings pushing him to his feet and directly in front of you. “You just need some help? That’s it?”

Your mouth went dry. He wasn’t wrong, not really. 

“That’s all, huh?” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, his wings curling around the room, too-wide and fluffed for the small space. “Should’ve just said something. I imagine you don’t do this kind of thing often.”

“N-no, I don’t.”

Does anyone? 

“That’s alright, I know you try your best and just need that extra push, hm?” Hawks sighed, deep in his chest. 

With the scarlet swallowing your peripheral vision, you feel like you’re suffocating. Maybe in a good way. You nodded, pliant.

He always knows you. What you want, what you crave, what you need. 

Nimble fingers untucked your blouse from your waist, and you yipped at the chill of his fingers. He was undeterred, loosening the garment and immediately going for the buttons.

One by one, they came undone and you wrap your arms tighter around your middle. Hawks ogled, openly and without a care. It made something in you writhe, but you still wanted more of it. His attention, overt affections that supposedly mean nothing-- you want it.

He slid the blouse from your shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. You watched as his feather shuddered, rippling as he let out a few harsh breaths. You knew how you must look, hot and flushed to the touch. Bare on your upper half, sans a cheap bra that had seen better. 

“Are you sure--” You weren’t sure what you were going to ask, but Hawks didn’t let you say it besides.

“Yes, of course, obviously,’” He licked his goddamn lips. A taloned-finger caught the pilling strap of your bra, snapping it against your shoulder. “Besides, look at this! Can’t have you representing the agency, me, and my brand wearing shit like this.”

Something burned in your gut, some mix of shame and arousal that was threatening to spill from the wet corners of your eyes. 

Hawks dropped to his knees, so fast you hardly could register it. His hands hooked in your skirt by the first two knuckles and tugged and he went down. The sound of splitting fabric cracked in the air, and your skirt fell to the floor in tatters.

And Hawks, the fucker, hovered just inches away from your covered cunt. The cheap cotton of your panties did nothing to shield you from the hot breath that he fanned over you.

“H-Hawks!” You cried out, attempting to push at his shoulders with sweaty palms. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Just taking a closer look,” He gave you no time to protest as those quick fingers of his pulled the elastic of your panties, tugging them down your thighs. He had the decency to tap your ankles, one at a time, so you could step out of the garment. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You let him. 

Perhaps you should’ve protested a bit more. Maybe. But it wasn’t like this wasn’t your wildest fantasy. Your sweet, too-kind boss, spoiling you. You weren’t sure if you’d thought about Hawks that way at first, but he had gotten to you at some point. The impromptu lunches, the late nights together, the walks and flights home. There was even that one he’d managed to wrestle a guy getting too handsy at a club with (how had he known you’d even been there?)

Hawks unclipped your bra, throwing the thing to the side with a  look akin to disgust. He snatched the hanger and garment from your hand and nodded toward the platform.

“Stand over there like a good girl for me, okay? Don’t take your eyes off yourself.”

You couldn’t disobey him, could you?

You’d seen what he did to people who crossed him, when it really mattered. He didn’t put his heart or energy into something unless he really, actually cared. And the handful of times you’d seen that go to shit had left memories of sharpened feathers and terror-filled eyes in their wake.

But you were good for him. His assistant who always made sure his meetings lined up with his patrols, and that everything was brief unless entirely necessary otherwise. You were the one who made sure he had caffeine nearby and a full belly, even on his most busy of days. 

He’d never do anything other than be kind, right?

You didn’t want to find out otherwise. 

He approached you from behind, the silk of the garment tucked over his arm. His eyes looked predatory, gleaming and inky. 

He only stopped when his chest is flush to your back, hands finding their home just above your hips with a squeeze. You shuddered at the feeling, new and raw and you couldn’t tell if you hated or loved it. 

“I want to see how this looks on you, god,” Hawks groaned, nails biting into your skin. “Hold still for me, dove.”

You did.

You didn’t dare move an inch as Hawks took his sweet time dressing you up. The garment is silken straps, the lace wrapping around the curves of your hips and chest, securely with expert bows that he pats into place after each one.

It was impossible to ignore the bulge pressing into your ass. Even as he pulled the pair of panties between your cheeks, stroking the lace and the fat with a wide palm, you were far more focused on the heat and hardness slowly grinding at the other cheek.

He tied you up expertly, and you watched in the mirrors, seeing each angle of it. The way his hands squeezed and pulled at your flesh along the way. The hungry glint in his eyes as he traced your figure. The way his wings seemed to shake and flutter in tandem with your short, quick breaths.

You were truly at his mercy. 

“Look at that,” He whistled low, grabbing your jaw and pulling your gaze just where he’d like. “Tied up like a pretty present I told you this would be good, didn’t I?”

“Y-You did.”

Hawks sighed, draping himself over your shoulders and nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the part of his plush lips, the way they drag over your skin. You swore you a nip or two.

His gaze met yours in the mirror. One of his hands trailed low, very low, sliding over top of the lace panties and cupping your sex. His index fingers lazily traced your lips through the fabric, idle. His other went to grope your chest, more insistent as he palmed at you, pinching a nipple as you began to sputter. 

A warbled moan cracked from your lips as Hawks fingers dipped below the seams of the pretty garment, rubbing at just the rights parts of you, tugging your body flush to his. 

“W-Wait, Hawks!” You wrapped a hand around on his wrist, begging your breath to stay somewhat even. “What if someone hears? Or one of the employees comes back? What if--”

“Do you think I care?” Hawks groaned, grunting as he ground into your ass. The unmistakable sound of fabric tearing cut through the room (again) and the fabric of his pants hit the ground. And suddenly you could feel how hard and hot he was. 

Something twisted in your gut and your legs rubbed together. Hawks caught your gaze, scarlet enveloping the room from the sides of your vision and the mirror in front of you.

Hawks shifted your face toward his, nosing along your cheek. The grip on your jaw was replaced by one on your throat; he was hardly exerting any pressure but the threat and meaning were clear.

Keigo has you right where he wants you. He always has, always will. You’re just a bit too... naive? No, maybe dumb... That’s a bit mean, isn’t it?”

“You need this just as I do,” He spoke low and rolling, touch burning like embers. “You know you do. I know you do. You trust me, don’t know?”

All you could do was nod before Keigo slotted his lips to yours, staking a claim that was only new to you. He nipped at your bottom lip, tugged until you were wincing into his mouth. He caught every sound, every little gesture of yours was his, just like you were. Keigo kicked himself for waiting for this so long, but he could be ginger, under the right circumstances. Ones that benefited him. He could only hope you were as good of a fuck as you were fun to toy with. 

You’d be sin yet, Keigo resolved as he pulled away. He just had to coax you there first, and he wasn’t against more... direct methods.

Maybe you’d finally get it then.