#you can just casually blast your thots into the | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ramp-it-up · 3 years ago

Text

What That Boat Do?

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. VERY EXPLICIT. Bathroom sex, oral (m/f receiving), creampie, light choking, a little bit of fluff at the end. Not proofread, errors my own.

A/N: This is based on the following ask from a wonderful Nonnie:

Post premiere smut with Rafa 😏 some red carpet teasing maybe?

Sorry it took me so long. We're on episode three! Anywho, I hope you like it Nonnie!

----------

The weekend was wild.

Rafael seemed sure of himself, but you knew the real story. He had never worked so hard to get something created. His soul was bound up in this work. And he was full of chaotic energy just finally getting to show the world what he and his friends created.

It was a hella busy weekend, flying coast to coast, grabbing sleep when you could. You just stored up your thots for later, knowing he needed this nervous energy to push through.

You loved how your man looked, and this premier tour was giving you ample opportunity to ogle him, along with everyone else.

Rafa in that blue suit did something to you. Black shirt, white shoes. Buzz cut and beard. Holy hell he was hot.

You were asleep as soon as you got in the car that night though, and Rafa just put you in bed in the hotel suite as he got busy playing hype man on social media.

And of course, you got a spanking the last time you wore that Green A’s jacket, sneaking it out of his trailer without him knowing.

Seeing him in it made you soaking wet with the memory of that night. The way he smirked at you while walking around in it told you he knew just what you were thinking.

You got so blasted that night because you were with the homies, so you were in no condition to be taken advantage of.

The final night of the premier weekend finally came, and you could tell that Rafa was exhaling. He was going to really celebrate tonight. And you were right by his side.

Tonight he was wearing the two-tone Comme des Garçons suit. It was just delectable.

Your gown matched his fly, and the only undergarment you were wearing was a black silk thong. You thought Rafael wasn’t paying attention as he fussed in the mirror getting ready, but you were wrong.

Rafa held your hand as he advanced toward the red carpet. You looked up at him and squeezed his hand before you got separated at the press and the step and repeat.

You watched him pose, and answer questions, smiling, laughing, and joking. He was in the zone, using his charm to hype up his project.

Damn. What a man. You were turned on just looking at him.

He and the cast went backstage to get ready to host the screening and answer questions. You were used to watching from afar.

You wandered around the venue, talking to the usual suspects and inspecting all of the liquor bottles on the top shelf from your perch at the bar.

Rafa texted you.

Bored?

You looked around and did not see him anywhere.

Where are you?

I’m stage left, waiting to go on, I see you counting bottles. Are you bored?

You peered at the spot he indicated and saw him leaning against the wall. Fuck, he looked good. You straightened up as your heart started beating faster.

I was, but not anymore.

Rafael smirked at you, and then down at his phone

Oh yea, well, why don’t you go take off that thong?

You looked up at Rafa. He had his evil grin on. Your eyes grew wide and you hurriedly typed in your phone.

WHAT?!?!?

You looked back up at him when you sent the message.

“Off,” he mouthed at you, then he held up his phone and started typing again.

Scared?

You loved a challenge. You looked him straight in the eye, got your purse, and asked the bartender where the bathroom was. You left and came back in three minutes.

You chose at a table near the stage when you sat down again. Rafa was there with the cast, staring at you, watching you, and waiting to be introduced.

You blew him a kiss. He subtly caught it underhanded, winked, and motioned as if he were putting it in his pocket.

You were transfixed as Rafael hyped the show. Watching him work and listening to his voice was such a turn on. You were more than ready to go, sitting up and paying attention with your whole body.

You crossed your legs, flashing the stage, and you caught Rafael lowkey checking to see if anyone else saw. You saw the flash in his eye and a little delicious shiver of fear ran through you. He did not miss a beat however, as he was staring right at the apex of your thighs, and he didn’t even pause as he spoke.

You kept moving in your seat because it was getting unbearable. Finally, you stood up, crossed your legs, and leaned against the wall for support, still staring at Rafael. You had no idea what anyone else in the room was doing; it was like you were the only two people there.

When Rafael left the stage again, he texted you almost immediately.

I saw you squirming. Meet me in the restroom on the left side of the house in 10 minutes.

Your pussy clenched as you read the text. You looked up and around the room. No one seemed to have any idea of what was about to happen. You watched the clock on your phone, the 10 minutes seeming to take forever.

It was like you had super senses. You heard people laughing, phones dinging with notifications, and Rafa’s body calling you.

When the time came, you picked up your bag and casually walked down the hall to your destination. You tried the knob and it was locked.

“Rafa, it’s me.”

The door opened and Rafael pulled you in quickly, and you laughed nervously at the sudden movement. He pinned you against the wall and kissed you well. He took his time to addle your senses with a kiss. That mouth did a lot.

You took control, kissing him, and unbuttoning his shirt, liking his nipple and kissing down his chest and abs as you got on your knees to un button and unfasten his pants.

His dick was not totally hard, but thick and waiting on his thigh. You deep throated it while looking up in his eyes.

Rafael’s sea blues gazed down at you and he smiled while you pulled off and stroked him, spitting on his cock for lubrication.

You were dripping as you sucked him a few more times for good measure, palming and rolling his balls. He moaned deep in his throat and placed his hand on your head.

He started tugging you upwards and you pulled his dick with you as you stood back up. You pulled your dress up and sat on the vanity, pussy directly over the sink.

You spread your legs as Rafa grasped your nipple through the slick fabric of your dress, then slid his hand down your belly to your cunt, using all four fingers to play in your pussy, dipping into your slick and coming up to circle, then brush your clit.

You could feel him releasing his frenetic pent up energy on you; all of the tension leading up to tonight was going to benefit you greatly.

Rafa surprised you by getting on his knees himself to taste you a little, licking your cunt, his nose in the center of your mound. He stood suddenly to take his jacket and shirt off, then got back on his knees, opening your legs wide and holding on to them, as your ass was falling into the bowl of the sink.

He started eating seriously then, diving in and bringing you to the edge of heaven, over and over again, but never quite letting you come. You bit your lip, moaned and wiggled in his clutch, and he smiled up at you, eyes sparkling at your vexation.

He brought his hand up and dipped his fingers in again, gathering some of your slick, and used it to lubricate his cock as he jacked off a bit. Rafael immersed himself in you, lapping you up and turning his head as he made out with your pussy.

You were so wet that by the time that he stood up to line himself up, he slid in easily and started pumping into you with no hands. He held them up like he was doing a trick on a bicycle, and the cocky muthafucka smirked at you as you looked up at him, mouth open and panting for more.

You reached for his ass as you wanted him to quit teasing you and ram you fully. Instead, he grabbed your hips, and you leaned back into the mirror, running your hands up his arms and down his torso again.

He gathered your knees in his arms, brought you closer and started pounding you harder, just as you wished. You moaned, your eyes rolling as your head lolled back against the mirror, and Rafa clapped his hand over your mouth.

He kissed your forehead as you continued to shake and moan in his arms, then he picked you fully up by your thighs and started bouncing you up and down his dick before depositing you back down on the vanity.

He pulled out and turned you around, pounding you and reaching around you to finger your clit until you came, his hand firmly muffling your noises.

But Rafael wasn’t finished. He leaned against the wall, and pulled you with him, his arm clutching your neck and holding your back flush against his chest, spearing his rock hard dick inside you.

The first time either of you spoke was for you to protest to him.

“Rafa… no… I - I can’t… not again.”

Rafa pulled you tighter against him and whispered in your ear.

“Yes you can, beautiful. And you will.”

He started moving again, squeezing your neck and flicking your over sensitive clit with his other hand. You quivered with overstimulation, but couldn’t help but fuck yourself back on his cock until you were close to coming again.

You put your hand over your mouth to stop the noise, but the slapping of your bodies was almost as loud as your noises.

You came and then Rafael stilled to stave off his orgasm. He bent his head toward you, forehead at the top of your spine as he breathed and tried to calm down. You slipped off his cock, the slippery wetness of you resonating in the room.

You wanted to celebrate him and his accomplishments, show Rafael how special he was. He was still hard, so you pushed him back, got on your knees again and sucked him off, tasting yourself on him, Rafa watching you in the mirror as he massaged your scalp.

You looked up at him as you stroked him off and sucked him, going deeper each time he moaned. He was staring at you with those eyes. That and his sounds kept you going and you felt his ball tighten.

“Shhhhhitttttt! You are so fucking good at this. You ready for it babe?”

Rafa was trying to stay cool, but he was making that cum face that you loved. You smiled and nodded up at him, opening your mouth as he took over and spurted streams of cum at you.

“Now swallow like the Good Girl you are.”

You did as you were told and then leaned forward to clean him up, hollowing your cheeks again and causing his knees to get weak.

“Damn, girl. You are a fucking big brain geniusssss. Shit!”

Rafa slumped against the wall as you rose from your knees, a pro still in your heels. You got cleaned up at the sink, and he opened his eyes and smacked your ass as you fixed your face and pulled down your dress.

He put his clothes back on, made sure he was still fly and then pulled you to him, kissing your forehead again, sweetly now.

“Thank you for being my ride or die. I couldn't have done any of this without you.”

You shook your head and began to protest.

“Shhh. I’m dead serious. You are my rock, my calm in the storm. I love you girl.”

You melted on the inside, but were still very aware that he was technically still working.

“I love you too, but before you sail out back into them rocky producing waters, give me back my panties.”

You held out your hand and smirked at him.

“Nah girl. You go out here with me commando, and remember just what that boat do.”

And Rafael pulled you laughing back out into the premier event, happy to be riding the waves with him.

---------

My first fic in a while (for me). Let me know what you think.

Tag List:

@braidedchallah @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @anh1020 @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonybitch

#rafael casal #rafael casal x reader #ask dj #rafael santiago casal #rafael casal fanfiction #rafael casal imagine #rafael casal smut #Rafael Casal x you

72 notes · View notes

trillgutterbug · 4 years ago

Note

i have Questions about both those narcos fics but call amado maybe... hello 👀

call amado maybe is the result of @lingua-mortua and i (i think she named it actually, because she’s very funny) trying to figure out the sequence of events in canon between amado and pacho first meeting each other at that very fraught summit with miguel, where amado is very clearly uncomfortable and doesn’t like him much, and then their next interaction, which is amado throwing miguel’s crusty ass directly under pacho’s huge oncoming bus. like what happened in there?? how did they decide to trust each other? when did they talk?? how’d pacho even broach the topic? and we determined that a) pacho likes phone sex, b) amado likes attention, and according to the rules of algebra, a+b=69. and in the process of these things being true, there needed to be about 30k of pacho very seductively convincing amado that a lil dick is good for him! needless to say, i never finish anything, so it’s been languishing in my narcos folder for like a year, but. it’s one i poke at every once in a while bc we’ve got a big doc of notes and Thots on the subject, and it’s pretty compelling shit. HOWever, it’s such a clusterfuck of logistics and details, i’d have to rewatch all of mexico and take copious notes, which like. aint nobody got time to suffer through that much miguel angel. anyway, here’s the first scene.

“Amado Carrillo Fuentes,” said the voice on the line.

Amado blinked. “Hello…?” He knew that voice, the warm, flip familiarity of the words. It made a little alarm bell ring in the back of his head. Belatedly, the pieces clicked. He scowled over his shoulder at Aguilar, who had summoned him for the phone call without saying who it was. Aguilar wasn’t paying attention, whistling as he rummaged in a filing cabinet. Amado was on his own. He braced a hand on the desk, ducking his head. Something told him to keep this conversation quiet. “Señor Herrera.”

Pacho made a soft sound of tutting disappointment. “Are we not on a first name basis?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

A chuckle. “Oh, I think we should be.”

Amado resisted the urge to check over his shoulder again. Aguilar was a jackass, and certainly not above eavesdropping, but the defensive prickling of Amado’s nerves had everything to do with who was on the other end of the call, not who was in the room with him. “If you say so.”

The smile was audible in Pacho’s voice. “I do.”

Although it was cooler in the trailer than out under the noon sun, Amado was still sweating, damp down the length of his spine. He plucked at the open collar of his shirt, trying to summon a breeze. “What can I do for you?”

“Excellent question,” said Pacho. There was an odd noise in the background, shrill, echoey with distance. A whistle? “Your new airstrip in Chiapas, have you broken ground yet?”

Amado hesitated. “Last week.” There was no reason not to answer truthfully, was there? If things went according to Miguel Ángel’s clusterfuck of a plan, all their business with Cali would hinge on Chiapas before long. Much sooner rather than later, in fact. Amado grimaced, rapping a knuckle on the edge of the wooden desk to be safe. "Why? Are you changing the schedule on us?"

"Of course not." Pacho's tone was so soothing it made Amado scowl harder. “Félix said as soon as possible, didn’t he?”

Amado shut his eyes. They stung with sweat. He pressed the heel of his palm into them, one after the other. “He did.”

“And I promised to deliver.”

More noise in the background, this time shouts and hollering, although they lacked the edge of implied violence. It was strangely familiar. “Are you at a game?” Amado blurted.

A second of silence, punctuated by what Amado recognized as another whistle blast. “Just about to go on the field,” said Pacho.

Amado blinked his eyes clear, surprised. “You’re playing?”

“Center forward.”

Amado tried to picture it. Pacho Herrera - infamous in his slick suits and meticulous hair, his pristinely shining shoes, his reserved cunning - sweating and muddy on a football field. It was probably a vanity project, one of those honorary positions on a purchased team where the defenders kept Don Pacho from getting a scraped knee at the cost of their own heads. “Huh,” said Amado.

“Do you play?”

Amado barked a laugh before he could stop it. “No, man. I have better shit to do.” Too late, he could have strangled himself, but Pacho only laughed as well.

“Fair enough. But do you watch?”

Amado shrugged. He finally glanced over his shoulder. Aguilar was frowning at a fat folder opened in his hands, mouth moving as he read. “Sure, sometimes.”

More hollering, more whistle blowing. “Chiapas,” said Pacho.

“Yeah, right, Chiapas. What about it?”

“I’m sending someone to liaise with your crew there. He’ll be arriving Wednesday.”

“Uh,” said Amado. A strange, defensively guilty sensation came over him - jumpiness like a teacher had told him to open his locker for inspection even though he knew it contained no contraband. “What for?”

Pacho made a little hmm sound, a dismissive moue. “It’s nothing personal. This is a large shipment Félix will be handling for us, and assuming it goes well, not the last of its kind. Chiapas will be important for both our businesses, going forward. My partners and I would like to have first-hand knowledge of it. We don’t want any easily avoidable incidents, do we?”

Amado frowned. What kind of incident could happen in Chiapas that the Cali cartel could possibly care about? As Pacho had reminded them in Panama, if anything happened to the coke after it left Colombia, the consequences were on Félix’s head alone. Well, not alone. Amado could easily picture the maelstrom of shit avalanching downhill in his direction. On second thought, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Cali to okay the operation in advance.

“What are you calling me for, then?” Amado asked. “Have you talked to Félix about this?”

Another hmm, this time loaded in a way Amado couldn’t identify. “I’d much rather talk to you,” said Pacho.

A concerning little curl of uncertainty coiled itself in Amado’s belly. “Oh?”

“You handle transportation, don’t you? Why concern the king with the business of generals?”

Amado heard the mocking emphasis on the word king. He almost smiled. “Are we generals, you and I?”

Pacho chuckled. “I understand how things work.” Unspoken, the sentiment that Miguel Ángel did not.

Amado chewed his bottom lip. “Alright,” he said at last. “Wednesday. But the airfield isn’t ready for planes, yet.”

“Of course. I’m sending a flight to Corazón de María. It’s arriving at noon. He’ll need to be picked up.”

Ah. Amado saw where this was going. “And I suppose I’ll be doing that personally, huh? I might be busy Wednesday, I don’t know if I’ll have time to fly to Chiapas.”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling you how to run your operation, Amado.”

The uncertainty in Amado’s belly curled a bit tighter at the way Pacho said his name. It was as casual as it was intimate, the menace implied. “Sure,” said Amado.

On Pacho’s end there came a wild, roaring cheer and a flurry of exuberant sound. A goal, maybe.

“I’m up,” Pacho said. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you.”

“Yeah.” Amado hesitated. “You too.”

“Oh,” said Pacho. “The man I’m sending. Navegante. Be respectful to him.”

Amado frowned. What the hell did Pacho think he was going to do, ditch his sicario at the airport and call his mother a pigfucker? “I understand how things work,” he echoed.

“Certainly.” There was a definite edge of humor in Pacho’s voice. “Have a lovely day, Amado.” He hung up before Amado could respond.

Amado stared at the phone in his hand, blinking. “What the fuck, man,” he muttered.

“Good talk?” asked Aguilar.

Amado turned around. He tugged his sunglasses down his nose so he could properly aim a double middle finger. “Funny joke. Give me some fucking warning next time, huh?”

Aguilar squinted innocently, the folder still open in his hands. “What do you mean?”

Amado shook his head. He headed for the door. “Never mind, asshole.”

#my fic #narcos #amado/pacho #even rereading this bit for the purpose of posting it here i was like ?? what the fuck is chiapas #lmao so you can understand how much work i'd need to do to get it finished #palamedessextus

8 notes · View notes

graffitibible · 5 years ago

Note

PLEASE dig more into the intricacies of ghoul and gogo's relationship I'd LOVE to hear more!!

OH THANK GOD, i have SO MANY THOTS about this relationship

im putting this under a cut because it got. ridiculously long lmao. im sorry you can indulge me if you want

one of the hardest things about writing ghouls pov is that he is, consistently, a ridiculously unreliable narrator. their awareness of themself and other people is on so many different levels of disordered thinking and his sense of self is so distorted by a chemical cocktail of neuroses, compartmentalized trauma, and a lifetime of severe self-loathing. they’re like ten layers deep into this mental bullshit and don’t have the tools to unpack it. whenever ghoul meets someone new, theres a fundamental paranoia and fear regarding what their motives might be in regards to him. thats why they approach everything with so much defensiveness and the general assumption that someone has an ulterior motive. this is actually pretty common coming from kids with roughed up backgrounds like ghoul’s. unprompted kindness absolutely terrifies him because they assume theres some kind of trick there - historically, all the people in his life who were supposed to be “safe” weren’t so this is one of the rules of the world that ghoul’s internalized as fact. and because ghoul is scared basically all the time they tend to grab that fear and channel it into being angry instead because that nets him more control of the situation.

basically: ghoul is two thousand tons of radioactive maladaptive coping mechanisms packed into a five foot two goblin who hates the idea of being scared all the time and has chosen instead to channel all that fear into being An Absolute Nightmare.

narratively, i needed ghoul to have at least one positive relationship in his life so that there was a basis for some good relationships in the fabulous four collective. i needed ghoul to have some kind of context of “this is what it’s like to trust someone, this is what it’s like to love someone so goddamn much you’d do unspeakable things to keep them safe, this is what it’s like to have someone in your life who has your back unconditionally.” granted, thats not how this relationship ended, but at least for a minute there, gogo and ghoul had each other’s backs. that was important because i needed ghoul to have some experience in navigating a positive relationship.

it wasn’t originally gonna be newsagogo, but i did know that gogo was gonna cross paths with ghoul prior to their run-in with poison and kobra - this was something i settled on sometime while i was writing part two of “starry-eyed.” gogo was meant to be a) one of the ways to contextualize a lot of the Shit in the zones that ghoul didn’t have an opportunity to learn about on their own time and b) one of the key ways that ghoul gets to cement a real genuine sense of justice. prior to that, ghoul had this unfocused hatred of bli the way most people in the zones do but didn’t have a real big picture understanding of how best to chip away at that kinda construct. the closest thing to it was gangs that were super bloodthirsty and liked to hunt dracs for sport but these groups weren’t interested in dismantling the institution of bli, just the catharsis of blasting dracs to hell and back. so when i got to this run-in proper, there were enough similarities in their characters (both tech-heads, both with some deep-seated vendettas against bli, both prone to couching their Real Problems in humor and deflection, etc.) for me to go “hang on.....what if....” and i could kill 2 birds with one narrative stone.

that being said oh man i did not expect writing that relationship to hurt the way it did.

because on a lot of levels, these two really got each other! ghoul can read gogo’s expressions and body language so easy. ghoul, like jet, is an extrovert; he recharges best around people they trust. gogo’s the same. like, one thing i feel like i didn’t do well enough in that chapter was cement that, objectively speaking, gogo didn’t strictly need ghoul’s help. newsagogo is fully capable of setting up and running that station all on their own. ghoul suspected this from the start, sure, but gogo has a good grasp of tech and could probably do most of the setup herself. BUT she offers this hand to him because she doesn’t like running this station alone. she likes people and likes being around people - hence why she’s so desperate to get herself really networked into the desert and capable of calling up other dj buddies of hers. it’s pretty common practice for a dj to have a partner or team to back them up (in case they need a runner, in case they need to pack their stuff and go, in case they need someone to spot them, etc.) so gogo was in the market for that - and ghoul was a good candidate. a tech-brain, someone good with radios and obscure gear? that’s ideal runner material, and gogo doesn’t have to do this shit on her own.

and newsagogo was a really good influence on ghoul in a lot of ways. she’s the first person to go “hey let’s just do shit for fun” without any ulterior motive. takes them out drinking for fun, likes to drink soda on the roof for fun (this did not always end well but the intention was in the right place). that’s a new thing for ghoul, who’s always felt fundamentally unwanted. in every group and crew and relationship he’s had prior to this one, there was always the undercurrent of “they’re using me. they’re using me and once they’re done using me they’re gonna ditch me or kill me.” so while gogo’s doing these casual bonding activities ghoul is like WHAT IS THE ULTERIOR MOTIVE HERE and their paranoia is eating away at him and theres really honestly no other shoe that needs to drop here but thats not something that registers on ghoul’s radar.

even with that rocky start ghoul was picking up a lotta stuff from gogo, like that aforementioned sense of justice. and it was with a positive relationship like that one that i could bring out just how person-oriented fun ghoul is. like, the way i write the fab four, someone like party poison is task-oriented. fun ghoul (and jet star, actually) are both person-oriented. that’s why fun ghoul becomes so ride-or-die for newsagogo. this is actually like...their default state of being if allowed to get close to people lol. fun ghoul has a distorted sense of self that causes him to rank their own safety and self-worth way below everyone else’s along with a default propensity to love people...deeply. ghoul loves people ungently. they love people with everything they are. will easily put himself in a position to die if it means that the people they love are safe. part of this is setting up just how easy it was for the fab four and ghoul in particular to make that suicidal, sacrificial call in “SING” but part of this is just who fun ghoul is as a person. so when gogo gets hurt, ghoul goes ahead and conjures up every scrap of leverage he has against tommy chow mein and basically sets it on fire because that’s what ghoul loving someone is like. it’s ghoul trying to take apart anything that threatens the people they give a shit about and being wholly capable and willing to set himself on fire to keep the people they love warm.

they complimented each other incredibly well in a way that surprised me. like, ghoul gets people in a way gogo doesn’t, and vice versa. gogo has the attack plan and knows how they intend to set about dismantling bli with careful, calculated movements, but ghouls the one that suggests “hey, you know that if youre a dj you actually have a lot of political capital in the zones, technically??” like not with those words but thats the basic gist behind what they suggested. prior to that it didn’t occur to gogo to use DJing as a route to get what they needed but DJs have a lot of clout in the zones with the right crowds and ghoul’s hunch turned out to be correct. gogo’s the person who can do the face-to-face interactions in a clear and concise way, who can sell good headlines on the airwaves, but ghouls the one who comes at those interactions with the requisite suspicion to realize when things could be off - it’s that paranoid initiative that saves gogo’s life when that bomb goes off.

ofc once ghoul realized that they gave this much of a shit about newsagogo he immediately tried to stop thinking about it because this kind of unconditional caring for someone? that’s brand new. and it terrifies the shit out of him. because all of a sudden, ghoul doesn’t have the handy back door that they’ve always had. if shit really gets bad, he tells himself consistently, they can just leave. they can ditch whoever they’re with and it’ll be fine. but when ghoul gives this much of a shit about someone, the idea of leaving feels like trying to carve your heart out with a spoon. every time gogo expressed this casual affection ghoul does his best to brush it aside or willfully forget it - but they dont, really. subconsciously that’s always there. and no matter what kind of bad blood manages to end up between them, ghoul can’t forget that this is the first person who he actually wanted to call a friend; they keep that pendant gogo gave him for the rest of their life.

but ultimately, the pair of them fell apart because they both grew in such a way that they couldnt be in each other’s lives forever. gogo prioritizes the cause over her interpersonal relationships; that’s just the kind of person they are in this stage of rebellion against bli. gogo can look at her personal happiness and acknowledge that something like that is secondary to their goals. war is about sacrifice and gogo understands this. newsagogo knows that she might not survive to the end of it, knows full well that their agents might not survive to the end of it, and has accepted these consequences. losing some of their agents doesn’t shake gogo the same way it does ghoul.

because ghoul’s the kind of person who can’t accept that. this is the first positive relationship he’s had in their life and he doesn’t wanna lose it. he doesn’t wanna lose newsagogo over a big blanket cause. the seeds for that kind of “will die bleeding for this cause” are there, but ghoul is a socially-oriented person and very person-oriented in general. and fundamentally, fun ghoul is a deeply compassionate person who can’t help but empathize: the micro will always supersede the macro. it’s easier for ghoul to charge into battery city to save a little girl than it would to charge into battery city for a vaguely defined reason that might further a broader cause.

unfortunately, because gogo and ghoul had two such different approaches to this and because ghoul is a volatile person, they did that thing where uh. again, this is pretty common in abuse survivors, but ghoul did that thing where he detonates their positive relationships because this was always a foregone conclusion to someone ensconced in so many paranoid maladaptive coping mechanisms and at least this way, with ghoul going off, the relationship gets to detonate in a way that ghoul can control. a lot of those moments where ghoul acts like an absolute little nightmare have to do with that notion of control; this way, fun ghoul gets to decide when and how the relationship ends and for someone who did not get a lot of control over anything in their early life, this is how he compensates.

i wrote this fuckin. tragic “friends who drifted apart, who didn’t see the cracks in the foundation of their relationship until they were using them to splinter themselves away from each other” with no basis in anything canon and fucked myself up over it and why did i do this?

this was an essay and a half but yeah feel free to yell at me about newsagogo and fun ghoul cause THATS a niche fucking friendship i didnt expect to mess me up the way it did

#danger days #fun ghoul #newsagogo #anon #*fabrication #i feel like i didnt even touch on everything lol #me tears in my eyes: im doing this for narrative purposes. it is for narrative purposes #i tricked myself into caring about this friendship and then it hurt. oh lord but it hurt #oh yes almost forgot: cw for some brief mention of abuse #its more like 'this is a mindset significant/common to abuse survivors' but stay safe friendos #ohhh my god tumblr what did you do to cut feature why is it like that #functional. functional website!

58 notes · View notes

killmvnger · 7 years ago

Text

What You Need (Part 6) 5 / 4 / 3 / 2 / 1

Killmonger/Black!Reader

Warning: This is just build-up

Summary: You didn’t go to the club to find a man, but you sure as hell leave with one. (I seriously need to change this summary, so much has happened)

Erik Stevens felt like a force of nature, unstoppable and unchallengeable, slowly sneaking into your mind when you didn't want him to, embedding himself in your life without a second thought. He made you want to change things for the better...starting with your horrendous wardrobe. He's only seen you in your special occasion thot dress and his baggy clothes, so he isn't aware that your closet is a wasteland of old sweaters and ripped jeans. You're ten minutes into tearing your closet apart searching for an outfit appropriate enough for wherever you were going, which he didn't tell you about, not even when you texted him about it. His reply was a laughing emoji.

Half of your room had clothes strewn on it and in the middle of it all, you, seconds away from having some type of meltdown at the realization that you don't own the wardrobe that you deserve. Huffing in silent defeat, you put on a pair of black leggings and your oversized grey sweater.

By the time your phone started buzzing the text of his arrival, you had already fixed your hair and makeup in the mirror, so you picked it up and started walking downstairs. You spotted Erik's Bugatti parked in front, a stark contrast to the patchy grass and uneven sidewalks around it. Your neighborhood wasn't the best, by far, with its loitered grass and crumbling streets that the city never cares to fix, but it's always been enough for you. You wouldn't be surprised if people were lurking in their windows watching his expensive show car wondering what the hell it was doing here all out in the open. He was standing beside it, leaning coolly against the hood of the car waiting for you, so you scurried faster towards him.

You checked him out from head to toe, which he noticed with a conceited smile.

"Hey," you greet in a bashful whisper. The sun shines down on his moisturized skin brilliantly, making his dusky skin glow a creamy brown, and his dark eyes lighten enough for you to see his irises. He still intimidated you, still made you feel so much smaller in his presence no matter how much he let you talk back and, in a twisted way, that only excited you. His arms wrap around your waist and you instinctively latch yourself around his neck as you're being pulled in.

He kisses you and it's unexpected but not unwelcome. You stand on your toes to reach him, kissing back with an equal vehemence, and softening under his firm hands gripping your body closer. As ridiculous as it sounds, you missed kissing him - or, the feeling of kissing him. The feeling of burning all throughout the inside of your body yet still being plagued with the chill of goosebumps on your skin. He could make your hairs stand up by a simple slip of the tongue, a small grunt into your mouth, a calloused hand trailing down your waist. You squeal on his mouth as his arms drop to your hips and lift you up, spinning you around twice before setting you back to the ground. You're laughing through his adamant kisses, lightly patting his chest to stop his attack on you. Playfully, he pinches at your side and pecks your cheek before finally pulling away. You're in a daze, of course, the same dopey one you slip into whenever he's around and all you can see is him.

He bites his lower lip, looking you up and down. "Wassup?"

Before you could answer him, a gagging sound chime from inside the car. You turn around, shocked that he kissed you like that with people in the car watching.

"Cousin, must you stick your tongue down this girl's throat before even giving her a proper introduction? You bring me all the way down here just to make out with your girlfriend?" Shuri's head sticks out of the back window, frowning in clear disapproval. Princess Shuri. You quickly smooth your hair down and make yourself somewhat presentable.

"I'm not his girlfriend --" "Not my girlfriend--" You both protest at the same time.

At least you're both on the same page about something. Excitedly, you skip to Shuri's door, sticking an awkward hand through the cracked window. She shakes it, amused at your eagerness, and you tell her your name, stuttering only slightly. You don't even care if Erik's judging you for being so nervous, it's so overwhelming to meet royal figures. She laughs and it's such a heartwarming sound that you find yourself laughing with her.

"I'm Shuri. Nice to meet you." She greets back. You disconnect your hands and turn back to Erik, who is rolling his eyes. You peer closer into the car to the seat next to her, which you notice T'Challa is occupying. He waves at you.

"Beautiful. Nice to see you again." He says. A silly giggle bubbles its way up your throat at his nickname for you. Honestly, you needed a recorded video of T'Challa calling you all kinds of cute nicknames in that accent and you'd be set for life.

"Hey, T'Challa. It's always nice to see you." You reply, feeling the heat rush to your face. He winks back at you, playfully. You glance back to Erik but he's turned away from you and already getting back in the car, so you follow his example, opening the door and settling into the passenger seat beside him. "So, where are we going?" You ask as you're buckling up. Erik looks down at your outfit with a disparaging smile and snorts.

"To the mall, it's looking like." He utters, managing to drop your confidence from a solid eight to three. You glance at your black tennis shoes in disdain, regretting not just sucking it up and stealing Aaliyah's chunky boot heels to up your outfit game.

"You didn't tell me what to wear. This is a neutral outfit!" You defend your basic fashion while casually refraining from cursing him out in front of his royal siblings.

The last thing you want is for T'Challa and Shuri to know exactly how explicit and horribly informal you truly were, but you gave Erik a side eye you hoped would be brutal enough to inflict actual pain on him. Not everyone has three fucking closets.

"I ain't say nothing because I wanted to see what you'd come up with. You look like you 'bout to go jogging and shit." He judges a little rudely. You squint at his sudden attitude.

Shuri scoffs. "Do not listen to him, you look fine." She assures you, but Erik is sucking his teeth beside you as he puts the car in drive. You look from him to the back where Shuri and T'Challa were sitting rather uncomfortably. There's this weird energy in the car, you realize, like Erik was legitimately angry at T'Challa, who wasn't even really speaking. You smile back at T'Challa for reassurance and he offers a kind look back to you, but there's a stiffness to him that's a little uneasy. His eyes turn back to his window, staring out at your street with a guilty expression.

"Where exactly are we all going?" You ask to break the tension.

"They are going to get some work done," He points to the backseat. "And we are going to eat."

"But --" Shuri starts, but he holds his hand up to silence her. "Cousin!" She exclaims.

"I don't even wanna hear it, Ri. I already told yo ass." He shuts her down quickly. She sits back, crossing her arms. You felt like you were imposing on a private family matter.

It's eerily quiet for the first five minutes of the drive, mostly because Erik neglected to turn the radio on, and the only thing you could actively give attention to was the steady beat blasting from Shuri's headphones. You tried to start a conversation but somehow everything reached a complete dead-end, even with T'Challa. So, you sat and kept to yourself, occasionally glaring at Erik through the corner of your eyes and occasionally scrolling down your Instagram feed. The only thing that tore your eyes away from the dancing baby on your feed was the car coming to an abrupt stop in front of a large office building about ten minutes later. Shuri's hand touches your shoulder as she opens her door.

"See ya," she pats you before slipping out of the car with T'Challa right behind her. He just waves his exit. You watch as they stroll past the security and into the building with an ease that only comes with having authority. Without the audience, you turn back to glare at him.

"The fuck is your problem? It was nice meeting the princess, but all this extra shit with the silence and insulting how I look? You really got me fucked up!" You exclaim. You weren't even about to call his ass in the first place and, technically, he didn't even call you.

"Chill out, shorty, it's not that deep. I'm aggravated. Not at you." He sighs. His face looks dejected with his scrunched eyebrows and pouty mouth so you can believe that he's feeling a certain kind of way. You reach your hand out to his, lightly touching him without being too assertive. He doesn't look like the kind of guy that responds well to a deeper emotional connection in these situations.

His eyes linger down to your hands, then slowly trail up to your face. His expression is blank, so you're unsure if you did a good thing or a bad thing, but you decide to roll with it.

"Do...you wanna...talk about it?" You suggest with a squint.

"Fuck no." He replies. You breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God. You barely even wanted to see him, let alone listen to him vent about some shit you had nothing to do with. Once you get involved with his emotional side, you might as well be in a relationship with the man and that's not what this was.

"Cool. Now, suck that shit up and take me out like you promised." You laugh, finally getting a genuine smile out of him. "Sensitive ass." He rolls his eyes at you while starting his car up again.

"Damn, okay."

You laugh at his expression and turn the radio up as he begins driving again. You had a strong feeling that no one outside of his family talked to him the way you did, which was a damn shame because his face afterward is always so hilarious to you. You liked how he'd raise his eyebrows comically high and grin in surprise, looking partially offended and partially amused. There were a lot of small things about him that made you all warm on the inside, and so far none of them had to do with his cold exterior.

"It's not anywhere fancy, right? I just want a McChicken sandwich."

"A sandwich?" He asks, baffled. "I just gave yo ass five hunnid dollars and you wanna go to McDonalds and shit? I need to un-humble you."

"I don't need to spend thousands of dollars on a meal, nigga, just gimme two McChickens and a chocolate shake on the side! I'll be fine!"

"You want me to cancel the five-star restaurant reservation I made so you can eat fast food?"

"Who's really doing all that for lunch? You are the most bougie ass nigga I've ever met in my life. But you're 'royalty', so it's not a surprise."

"Why you say royalty like that? Watch that tone. I'm a real nigga. And if I got the means, me and my girl ain't about to slum it at some fast food place with terrible service and rachet workers."

You smirk. "Your girl?"

He's stopped at a red light when you say it and he turns to you with a deadpan expression. Your eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

"Don't." He commands. If you didn't listen when Bryson Tiller said it, you sure as hell don't need to listen to him, so you continue on anyway.

"That's bold of you to just say." You keep going. "Is that why you're doing all this? You want me to be your girl?" You ask rhetorically and giggle at his faux-annoyed expression. "I don't know, I think you need to earn the right to call me your girl like that." You tease.

His eyes held not even the slightest trace of the light humor emanating from you. They were soft, but cut through you like glass, drawing you closer to something that you didn't understand. Though, his face did not correlate with the intensity of his eyes, calmly smiling and as relaxed as ever. Usually, his eye contact felt elating like you were flying on the highest of clouds with a warmness that comes from your underbelly and spreads all over you like a blanket. All his stare does now is make you anxious, nervous, and twitchy as you wait for a response you're not even sure will come. You start to internally freak out, afraid you've subconsciously taken a harmless joke and struck a chord with him. He turns away from you and back to the road seconds before the light switches.

"You won't let me." He whispers before taking off again.

It takes a couple of seconds to digest his sentence and when you finally do, he's already on another topic.

"Who allowed all these niggas on the road? Can't nobody drive! The fuck!" He speeds past a slow-moving Prius, honking angrily as he did so.

Maybe now is not the time to address whatever the hell he means. With a little difficulty, you let his remark slide for the moment and stick a pin in it for later.

He continues on with the drive giving into his phase of road rage, cursing out a few students drivers, flipping off cabbies, and speeding past the 'bitch made' cars.

You stop in front of his suggested restaurant, of course, because he doesn't do compromises well. You look up at the fancy place with apprehensive eyes, wondering about the scene and the people and what you'd even look like in that environment. His hand touches yours, not grabbing but resting.

"Calm down, you're with me." He assures. "If anyone makes you feel uncomfortable at all, I'll buy the fucking place and we can eat there by our damn selves. Okay?"

"Do we have to do this? I don't see the reason."

"The reason is that you deserve quality food. Don't worry, I got you." He reminds you with a shake of his head. You blush and look away.

"Okay," you mutter. He leans towards you, gripping your jaw and turning your head back to him. Your foreheads graze as he regards you, drinks in the sight of you.

"Kiss me," he orders. You push up against him, letting your lips meld together lightly, then all at once. You almost hate how good it feels to kiss him. He pulls away five seconds into the smooch and looks down at you, questionable. "You good?" He asks.

"Yeah," you smile in a way you can only assume is ridiculous by how much your cheeks start to ache. He pecks your lips once more before unbuckling your seat belt for you. You both exit the car and the valet immediately comes to take the keys and park the car. The walk inside is less intimidating than you imagined, it's surprisingly pleasant and without one single old white person to look down at you. In fact, there weren't many white people at all despite how incredibly expensive the place looked. You were about to ask him about that, but a waiter appeared beside him and began leading the two of you past the other tables towards the back.

He paid for a private room, of course.

The lighting is dimmer inside of the large back room, casting a soft, orange glow on everything in the room. A square, dark mahogany table sits in the very center of it all with two velvet chairs opposite each other. There are a few plants in the corners and other expensive knick-knacks sitting atop various shelves on the dark brown walls. As you continue your admirable stare, he nudges you from behind to take your seat. You stumble forward slightly before taking the dozen or so steps it took to get to the table, then sitting down in the plush seat. The waiter sets your respective menus on the table and makes himself scarce, speed-walking back through the door you entered through to tend to others.

"You bring a lot of girls here?" You ask. And, honestly, you don't why you ask the question, but it spews out before you could contain the thought. He shakes his head, unweathered by your inquisition.

"No, but I won't lie, there were a couple." He says.

"I figured. This whole set up is pretty smooth." You compliment.

"Bet you glad we ain't go to McDonald's."

"Don't speak so soon, I ain't taste they burgers yet." You joke.

You open your menu and frown.

"It doesn't show any prices." You notice, flipping through the laminated pages in confusion.

"It's not supposed to. Just get whatever."

You've gone your whole life being as frugal as possible, always handling money, especially if it were not yours, with care and responsibility. There was never room in your life to go wild with cash, to always eat whatever you wanted at whatever the cost, to have random extravagant lunches for no reason and not question the bill. You know that on some level he understands what you've gone through and why you respond the way that you do to his showcases of wealth, but at the same time, he doesn't understand. He's had money for the most part of his life so, humble beginnings or not, he can't feel how crazy this is for you. You scan through the menu and like a muscle memory you skip over the steaks and lobsters and settle on the burger selections.

As you finally decide on your order, you peak over the top of your menu to peak at Erik. He looks to be contemplating between a few things on his menu, looking back and forth between the words with a wrinkle in his eyebrows. You find yourself in one of those moments where you can't help but delight in his handsomeness. You like when his dreads are loose and wild, framing his face shape so perfectly. He's made even more beautiful underneath the warm glow of lights. His eyes snap up to you like he could hear your inner commentary. You blush and raise your own menu higher to shield yourself. He laughs at your clear embarrassment.

"What?" He asks. You set the menu back down, instantly feeling less protected than your makeshift shield allowed you to be.

"Nothing. I just...I like your hair like that."

He smirks. "Had to make it easier for you to grab on to. I know you like that shit."

Your eyes widen.

"You seem pretty confident about having sex with me again. Who's to say I don't just eat this meal and leave?"

"Your pussy." He smiles and you roll your eyes.

"Anyway, I think I'll be ordering the smokehouse barbeque burger." You ignore his comment and try to change the subject matter.

Thankfully, he lets whatever dirty thoughts plaguing his mind go and follows along with your swift and obvious subject change, commenting on which dish he wants. The waiter, whose name you didn't catch, times his arrival perfectly and swoops back in to take your orders and offer the prince some special wine on the house.

"So, what is it that you do? You know, other than being the Prince of Wakanda."

"I'm the head overseer for the Outreach Program in Oakland, the big building beside Shuri's science thing. I'm not there all the time, but I get my notifications when I need to drop in and handle some shit."

"Seriously? That's amazing."

"Yeah, I'm pretty amazing." He boasts and you kick his leg from underneath the table.

"Oh, my God, shut up! I'm just saying...someone with your status wouldn't need to do that. It's...admirable that you do." Your cheeks burn predictably, but Erik looks as pleased as ever. "I've been to that building so many times. It's kind of weird that we haven't crossed paths already."

His eyes shift from yours down to the table, then back up again. He smiles, perhaps too smoothly, but it's enough to get you to smile with him. "Yeah. Crazy."

If he was being weird, you didn't comment on it.

"Enough about me, though. You ain't never tryna talk about yourself."

"My life is ridiculously boring compared to yours."

"I don't care. Bore me! I'm feeling weird as shit witchu knowing all my business and I barely know where you live."

"You know where I live." You deadpan. He scoffs.

"Not the apartment number or anything."

"Girls don't just give away their apartment numbers to strangers."

"You know what I mean."

You sigh, eventually caving. You decide to tell him about where you work, the busy barista hell-zone flashing back to you horribly. When you got the job, you were desperate as hell and needed any kind of money you could get to keep up with rent money, and now it's like you were stuck there with the mediocre pay and over stressful work environments with the bratty managers and annoying co-workers. You tell him that Casey has the best job out of your trio, despite being the lazier of you guys and having a strong dependence on marijuana.

You tell him about moving away from your family after high school and how that change almost made you give up on yourself until your best friends pulled you back together. You wouldn't get too deep into your familial relationships, quite like him you had things too depressing to bring up in casual conversation. You tried to focus on the good things, like that time you won those free Drake concert tickets from a radio station, and when you took that trip to New York and met Captain America. He's surprisingly content in listening to you ramble on about anything and everything you could think of.

"Captain America, huh?" He asks once he see's the expression on your face.

"Don't judge me. He's my favorite Avenger, wherever the hell he is now." You comment, thinking about that whole 'rogue Captain America' news headline.

"No comment."

Your food finally arrives and you immediately get to eating, slightly uncaring that he's staring at you devour your meal. You have to begrudgingly admit that this meal beat any fast food you could ever think to order. Sitting there having lunch with him felt more natural than it should have, all the playful banter and lingering stares were enough to leave you wanting to do it again. There still remains a stubborn part of your brain that believes this is all an elaborate prank, that he's not really the person he pretends to be in front of you. Though, his comforting presence seems to be drowning that nagging voice out more and more.

You're a little bubbly from the wine as you get back into the passenger seat of his car. You hadn't realized how long you two had been in there, but the sky was getting darker already and Erik spend the time it took to walk back to the car asking you to go home with him again.

"I told you I have work tomorrow, I have to get home." You slur while buckling yourself in.

"C'mon, I'll get you back home before then." He uses his persuasive voice, which sadly hasn't failed him yet.

"I don't know."

He picks your hand up and presses his lips to your knuckles, slowly kissing upwards while keeping steady eye contact with you. "C'mon, baby, lemme take care of you tonight." He whispers to you. You bite your lip, contemplating. You know damn well that if you were traveling to his place tonight, you wouldn't be leaving in time to get to work tomorrow. But if you went home instead of leaving with him, you'd be frustrated the rest of the week.

On one shoulder, you had Casey in a white dress, smoking the holiest of blunts, telling you that you have responsibilities. On the other was Aaliyah in a red bodysuit yelling at you to continue ho'ing. You knew you had absolutely too much wine if that's what you were imagining.

Screw it.

"Okay. Yeah, let's go." Your reply. He smirks wickedly before starting the car up.

(I hate this chapter, but I love you guys so I had to finish & post. Things seem tense with the royal family 👀👀 hmm)

@sweettea-and-honeybutter @coldcrevices @nakh-es @shesfromwakanda @nyxieso @jaaystaar95@tiava143 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @tenxouttanine@ashleychristina73 @panthergoddessbast @artpoetx @im-not-always-a-jellyfish @thehomierobbstark @muffytheaardvarkslayer @k-michaelis @yung-glvdn-goddess @localtrapgod @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @pumpkinmcqueen @lalasparkles @princessstevens @maya-leche @coldcrevices @youreadthatright @buttercup812 @sicksadgen @purple-apricots @nyxies @muse-of-mbaku @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @wakanda-inspired @magic-madness-heavensin @sadblvckkgirl @nubianqueeniexo @cocoaflowerrs (sorry if I missed anyone, thanks for the love & support)

#black panther fanfiction #erik killmonger x reader #killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black reader #erik killmonger x you #idk what this mess is but lol it'll get more cohesive by the next one i'm sorry jkhjgfhgvjhk

364 notes · View notes

lenin-it-to-win-it · 7 years ago

Text

the lorax, but everytime a character appears its bnha and every time u read it u want 2 die

summary: oh you know damn well whats coming, sweetie

notes: its 2:35 am. i spent over an hour writing this. pls clap.

*****************************************************************************************************

it was a suny day in thneedville and the sun was shining but it was COLD and DARk in dekus hart as he gazed sadly off intot he distance. “mommm wy doesnt todoroki senpai-san NOTICE me???”” he lameneted to his mom.

“maybe its ur ugly little pissbaby child face” inko suggested as she cooked up a spaghety for brekfast.

“how can i impress him??” deku questioned

“try lifting, cucklord” said his grandma recovery girl as she casually bench bressed 600 pounds of rocks.

“how bout i find him a plant insted?” deku sugested thinking about the tre todoroki painted on his house. he had asked todoorki if he liked trees and he sed ‘ya sur i gues’. “bitches lov plants”

“yeeee i kno wat u mean giv him some *lettuce*” recovery gorl winked

“wat a bout a tree” ��but TREEs are DEAD” inko exlciamed! she threw the spagheti on the floor for dramtic effect and cltuched dekus head in his hands. “Son do not SPEAK of such things or The All For One’HAre Corporation Copyright TM wil BUST thru the ROOF and kill you! Now sit down and eat ur capitalism! Consumerism is god hallejeuluah amen!”

“tree” deku whisperd

the hose exploded and every1 died but they were okey. avaracious all-for-one’hare, a tiny liitle with a shiny bowlcut and tiny little man feet bitchslaped deku across the face. “NO TREES ALLOUD!!1!” he shrieked. he bloo a kiss ot dekus mom “that plate of capitalism u have is cooking upped looks lovly mam”

inko blsuhed. “thanks”

“just make sure to keep the kiddo here away from any” all-for-one’hare, lowered his voice, which was hard bc he was already so short and low and close tothe flor. “trees”

inko gASPed! “of CORSE! i wil keep him away from the place where the trees once were by the Forbindden WAll u buildt with ur money to keep out the Bad COmmunist SentimentsTM”

recovery girl made shifty suspicious looks on her face “sure yea me too”

all-for-one’hare, was convinced. “I AM CONVINECED” he sed “by felicia!” he hopped on his hoverbord and hoverborded away.

inko cleaned the spaghety off the flor and recovery girl pulled deku by the leg into the backyard. “YO FUCKER U BETTER RUN UR ASS OVER THE COMMIE WALL AND GET A TREE SO U CAN START SLINGIN SOME MAD PUSS”

“but gramma im gay”

“then start slingin some nuts my d00d the POINT is get a TRE e” she scremed. “when i was, a yung boi, my ffather, took me over the wall, to see a bunch of trees, he sed son when, u grow up, dont kill them , the trees, and bring the nonbelievers, to come and plant new trees”

“k”

she siezed dekus sholders “GO FORTH CHILD BRING THE TREES SO WE CAN MAKE THEM GROW ANEW AS THE PROPHECY HAS FORETOLD, OUT BEYOND THE WALL LIVES A MYSTERIOUS MAN CALLED THE ONCE-FOR-ALLER, FIND HIM, HE WILL TELL YOU HIS TRAGIC TALE OF TREE AND BRING NEW LIFE TO THIS BARREN CAPITALIST HELLSCAPE, NOW GO”

“k” deku hopped on his totaly radicel scooter headed 2 the wall. a robot cat watched him forehsadowingly.

it was hella empty over the commie cuck wall with not even a bORger king in site!!!1! tree stumps covered the flor and clouds of smonk from a thousand vape pens darkened the sky. a ded bird lay deadly on the ground while its bird children cried over its bird corpse. it was sad. deku took a sad face selfie with the ded bird then did a sick ollie over the corpse and headed toward the mysterious shack in the distants.

the shack had a bucket in front of the dor labeled “piss”. deku hopped on in the piss bucket “YO ONCE-FOR-ALLER U GOT KIK??” he cried. wind wistled past his ears and he coffed from the vape smoke but then the pis buckt got pulled up on a ROPE and deku found himself hOISted up to a wINdOW!!!! he stareed face to face at a pair of black eyes with blue spots in the middle like limpid tears and some long bony arms with glvovs and yaoi hands reached out to slap him.

“WHAT” he yelled “ARE YOU DOOING” he leaned closer “IN MY SWWAAAAAAMP!????”

deku wet his pants and criied. “i sutjj,,, i jstu wann, t a t;rree,,” he said sobbily. “i,m tr yiyng to get s enpai , t o noticnse me,, an ,n and i thgout,, i fi got, hima t,r,ree, he wo uld liek me”

“fucken millenials” snarled the once for aller “its always senpai this, thrussy that, my neck my back, my snapping-chat, wy wold i giv u a tre??”

“b-because i,, i brought u a SPAGHETTY” deku exxclaimed, pulling pounds of spagheetyi out of his pockets

the once for aller slorped up the spaghetti hongrily “ya ok i gues i can tel u my storey now. its a dark and trageic tale of capitalism, like the star wors preqols” a tear ran down his bony old cheek. “but insted of jar jar binks thers only me, booboo the fool”

there was a crossdissolve and suddenly they were in the once-for allers past where he was a big bara man with bara tiddies and twinky skinny geans no where near the size needed to accomodate for his phat dong. he rode along in a cariege puled by a single muel

“FASTER AIZAWA KUN” cried the once-for-aller hapily. “those proletariats arent gonna exploit themselves!”

aizawa the mule grunted sexily and plowed on, workin that tight little mule ass.

the once-for-aller started shredding out a sick nasty solo on an elextric guitar and it was RAD AS HELL as he blasted out the opening cords to jake pol’s magmnum opiss “its everyday bro”. “we gotta dab on those haters aizawa kun” said the once-for aller with a very gay wink

aizawa the mule grunted in annoyance. he could not dab, for his sexy mule bodey had no arms.

they fond a metric shitload of trees and there were like wildlifes and shit running around. bears (like endeovor) froclikced int he woods with their hairy bara nippels exposed 2 the world, tsuyu and her frog pals swam in the woter, and tokoyami the borb boy floo in the sky wich was pure and clean without a single trace of vape smoke. the tres looked fuckable so the once for aller busted a nut against one trunk then wipped out a glock and started shootin them down “YEHAW fuCKERS iTS HIGH NOON” he screamed in texan, his native language, as he mowed downt he trees the way present mics sexy voice mows down the pussey.

sudenly DANY DEVITO IN A FURSOOT APEARED. he was tiny and magestic and orange and so fucken valid. also he was grand toledo. “CUNT” he yelled kicking the once for aller in th e kneecaps. “THIS IS THE ENVIROMENT!!!!1! YOU CANT JUST START WEED WACKIN THES TREES WITH YOUR YANKEE DONGLE DANDY AND SHOOTING THEM WITH GUNS!1! THAT IS BAD AND WRONG! CAPTIN PLANET DIED FOR OUR SINS”

the once for aller looked down at the tiny orange man then down at his own big bulgin bara tiddes “i cold crush u 2 deth with my tiddys, maybe u shuld stay out of my way dude’

dany deveto gasped angrely. “how DARE!!1!” he screamed, punching the once-for-allers big toe. “BUDDY I WILL PERSONALLY FUCK YOUR GRAVE WITH MY OWN TWO ASSCHEEKS IF YOU SAY ONE MORE FUCKING WORD, I DEFY U TO TALK SHIT, COME AT ME SCRUBLORD IM RIPT”

“try me gardfielf” the once for aller laffed “iv ben drinkign plenty of nut milk so my boneses are helthy and Stronk”

daney devito pulled out his 20 inch thunderdong and beat the once for aller in the head with it until he was past oout on the ground. the woodland crreatures danced hapily around the bodey but then he woke up

“u kno wat” he moaned “mabye capitalism isnt so good, lets al liv together in communism and friendship, and i wont cut and/or fucc any of the trees”

danny deveto was mostly appeased. “ya ok, but if u try anymore fuckin shit ill go back in time and cuck ur grandparents.”

dannneie dievoto tried to hav the once-for aller killed on at least 10 separate occasions and the once for aller did slip in some clandestine tree fuckage now and agein, but other than that the communism and friendship was good. but everything changed went he fire nation atteacked, they defeeted endevor esily but then the once for allers slutty, sluty family showed up to REEK HAVICK :0 !!!1!

the once for allers ugley mom, sir nighteye, stepped out of their cheap car and did the anime glasses thing “toshi u commie thot” he said with distaste “stop being poor”

“but MOM” the once for aller wined “i HAV to be por! its good for the envorionemnt and my new animal frends and if i dont dany devito will beat me over the head with his massive meaty man-canoe!”

“dont b lil bitch, do a capitalism.”

the once for allers loud cosin hizashy jumped out of the wagon. “YAINT” he shrieked at 1000000 decibels, killing 90% of life on erth. “ARE WE GON FUCK SOME TREES OR WHAT”

the once for aller looked at his disproving mom, then at his loud cosin, then at the very fuckable trees. his eyes lingered on a sexy sap hole. “yea we are” he said, pulling out his gitar sexily. “how bad could it posbiley be??”

the answer was prety fucken bad as it turned out. a metric fuckton of people paid to watch the once for aller and his family fuck trees to deth by throwing moneey at them like they were stripers, but then al the tres were fucked ded!!11! the bears starved into ity bity twinks, unable to maintain the THicc, tsuyu and the frogs choked and coffed up water ful of human piss as they peed in the water while laughing in delite at the once for allers antics, and tokoyami and the birbs coffed out their organs from the clouds of vape smoke filing the sky.

soon ther was no one left. the once for allers familey left with al the money, aizawa the fuckable mule was ded, and it was just the once for aller allone in the rouns of his former capitalistc glory with only the bright yellow banana suit on his back to remind him of those days.

dani devioto looked at the once for aller with sad eyes before kciking his own ass so hard he got sent rocketing thru the stratusphere, leaving behind an imapct crater with a single word

“cunt” deku whispered softly in the present as he gazed into the crator.

the once for aller sighed sadley. “iv wondered for years and yeers wat he ment by that, but i think i understand now. unless some1 like u stops being a cunt, then nothign is gona get better, u nut”

“shit fam thats deeep” sed deku

the once for aller looked at dekus pissbaby child face. “i lost evrything to capitalism, my friends, nature, my family” teers rolled down his cheks “i even sold my organs to buy cocane and strippers so now i hav a total of 2 orgens in my hole bodey.”

“kinky”

“but we can change that!” cried the once for aller passionetely. “i am going 2 giv u a tree to plant in thneedvil so communism can return and bring back the life stole from this world with my big stick diplomacy. go now, young midorieya-shonen my boy, GO FORTH IN THE NAME OF COMMUNISM AND UN-CUNT THIS MISEREBLE WORLD!!1!”

ther was an epic radicel chase seen wher deku had to fite the The All For One’HAre Corporation Copyright TM and his grandma recovery girl did sik triks on her moped and deku almost but not quite got to kis todorki senpai but they made it to the town square.

deku held todorokis hands and tenderly put the baby tre in it “here” he sed “take my seed”

todoroky noded solemly. “i hav never wanted anything more than to be given ur seed midoreya” he was about 2 plant the seed in the ground when all for one’hare appered! “NOT SO FAST FUCKHOLES” he yelled capitalistically. “this TRee is COMMuNISM!!1!” he cried to the townspeople. “do u RELLY want to be FILTHY COMMIES???”

“Commies hate micdonaleds!!1” screamed one impassoned townsperson.

“LETS BOIL THEM IN OIL” some one else agred.

“but guys wait!!!” deku cried “dont u want like, nature n shit?”

“CAPITALISTS WANT TO REPLACE EVERY REMOTELY FUCKABLE PERSON WITH A TREE” all for one’hare screamed

teh twonspoeple gasps, thens tarted chanting for deku todo and grandma to get boiled in oil

deku sweated nervosly “um but,, treees,, r good?”

“OIL OIL OIL”

“BACK IN MY DAY WE FUCKED TREES AND WE LIKED IT” recovery girl rored!

that was acomeplling argument. the boil in ooil chanting slowed

all for one turned to his henchperson stain “STAIN” he yelled “TEL THESE HIPPY DIPPY COMMIE TREE FUCKERS WHAT WE REALLY THINK OF THIS CAPTEN PLANET B-ROLL BULLSHIT”

stain cleered his throt and burst into magnificent song “let it gro let it gro, so we can have trees to bone” he sang. he was The Ultimate ChadTM so every1 agreed with him imediately. they throow all for one’hare into a pit of spiders where eh was eten and killed and planted the seed in the fertile butthole of the earth wher it could blosom and gro.

in the folowing yeers trees started groiwng beyond the wals and the once for aller crawled out of his shame sahck to water them with his nut as an act of penanc.e

slowly, magesticsally, danny devito in a fursewt flew down from the sky. “ya done good cunt” he grunted, tenderly slapping the once for allers boney ass with his furry orange old man boner. “ya done good.”

they both floated up to gay heaven by their ass skins wher the once for allers big bara past self greeted them with open arms. “all of ur trubles are ogre” he whispered tenderly in their tidditlyated ears.

the once for aller caressed his past self “oh oncey” he whispered sweetly “are u shure we should do this?? can u even,,, oh, how can u love me in this broken down form??”

past once for aller smiled and did the kabedon thing with his future self who whimpered arousedly and blushed carnelian. “its not who we are on the outside” he shoved his entire arm up his entire ass“its who we are inside”

danney devito cheered the once for allers on as they fucked together for all of eterneity and it was very communiest teh end

#bnha #all might #deku #lorax au #selfcest #i managed to work it in #at the very end #i Had TO

27 notes · View notes