#figure out how much you buy per month or per year or whatever and half it

[cass-ass]

i am so happy i became a massage therapist. I love it.

i don't think i'd have been able to recover from autistic burnout otherwise. I also didn't even know I was autistic until a year and a half into the field, massage as a career actually helped me figure it out cause it helped me calm down and be able to take care of my needs.

like this job was basically made for autistic people who are touch friendly:

have dim lights constantly

soothing music- I can also choose my own music in the room I work in

everyone is quiet and talking is soft (usually)

I can wear whatever I want to work, but the more comfy the better. Generally I wear tshirts and nice lounge pants. Some of my coworkers wear yoga pants, or bright hippie-like pants.

I have to talk to at most 2 clients in an hour, at best 1 every 2 hours

I work half as much as other people (I work 20 hours a week, up to 29 if I need extra money, but I have to do that sparsely or else my body hurts too much)

I make 60% of the massage cost + tip so I can afford to work that 20hrs a week and still pay bills and buy some things that I want. The cost is the amount of time plus 10. so $70 for an hour, I earn $42, people usually tip between $10-20 so I make $52-62 an hour.

15 minutes between each massage where I am able to be alone and just clean the room I was using. I am able to calm down any sensory issues in this time. (I am not paid for this time, as I earn commission from the massages so I get about 16 actual paid hours per week)

tactile work where my hands are constantly busy and my sensory sensitivity actually comes in handy

pattern recognition helps me figure out how to help specific pain patterns

able to stand or sit whenever I need to. I can even kneel while I work. some massage techniques you do just from sitting and kneeling on the floor, such as Thai massage

the people that do talk to me during the massage generally tend to be neurodivergent. I get a lot of infodumps about interesting things and it can be pretty fun

the people I work with tend to be neurodivergent as well, usually undiagnosed older neurodivergent people, but one of my coworkers is just a year older than me and has autism and adhd too. We just kinda flock to the career cause it's comfy.

if I feel uncomfortable with someone I can reject them as a client. it's about safety and comfort for the therapist and the client. so if someone says anything homophobic or transphobic I can walk out and reject them immediately or I can stay quiet, get money for the work I have done and then reject them for future appointments.

I can also reject people who don't respect my time, such as people who don't show up for appointments or people who constantly show up 10+ minutes late and expect to get their full time. This can make me have a meltdown, and so I cut them out of my schedule if they want to walk all over it.

There are clear boundaries and rules that are outlined for the field. we have to take ethics classes every 2 years while in the field so everyone is on the same page about these rules.

school was 7 months for full time and could be done in a year and a half for a part time student. It was short enough that even as a college dropout, it wasn't daunting. And grades kinda mattered, but not to a point where I stressed myself out about things like I did with college. and a lot of grades were just based on participation and how well we could follow a physical massage routine that we learned.

and one of the best things:

I can work barefoot and no one cares.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of You Should Be So Lucky by Cat Sebastian

Rating: 4/5 Heat Level: 3/5 Publication Date: May 7th

Premise:

A queer midcentury romance set in the 1960s; Mark Bailey is assigned to do a series of interviews with Eddie O'Leary, once a rising star in baseball and now contending with an infamous batting slump.

My review:

Cat Sebastian wrote yet another beautifully tender love story where all these little moments add up in a way that never fails to tug at my heartstrings. And I don't say that lightly.

Mark is a prickly reporter for the Arts and Culture section of the Chronicle who somehow gets assigned to do a profile on Eddie O'Leary, Midwestern transplant, once-wunderkind, now in the middle of a months-long batting slump. Eddie is brash and charming and often acts before thinking, but he's so endearing that you can't help but root for him, just like all of New York City, and eventually Mark too.

So, a lot of the book is about Eddie's batting slump, but it isn't the main plot, per say. Cat Sebastian draws these intricate portraits of a handful of characters that give you the sense that these people are a work in progress even when the book is finished— just like people in real life. You really feel the full extent of Mark's loneliness after his partner passed away the year prior, his conflicting feelings about being treated like a dirty secret even as they loved one another, and his inability to mourn openly— Mark's shock when an old mentor at the Chronicle likens Mark's grief to his own when his wife passed is palpable, and that hit me hard.

What I like about Eddie is that he may be quick to jump into a fight or trash talk a team, and he has an almost ridiculous sense of optimism, but he's never portrayed as naive, despite his age (twenty-two!!) and whatever his teammates and even Mark initially assume. He knows his own mind and actually ends up pushing for his and Mark's relationship when Mark is unsure about his own heart, and worried for Eddie's career prospects.

Emotionally, this book feels like a slow-burn because Mark isn't willing to go all-in the way you get the sense Eddie is ready to much sooner. But this is one of those cases where actions speak louder than words and you see it in these little moments of domesticity like when Eddie buys Mark breakfast and they walk the dog together, and how Eddie delights in Mark's fussy perfectionism and Mark is reluctantly charmed by Eddie's sense of hope; basically, they're inevitable even when they don't think so.

I liked that this was a queer romance that wasn't centered around a gay awakening, or the homophobia and bigotry queer people experience. Mark and Eddie are both comfortable with their sexuality, and they never let their worries about being out (or as out as someone could safely be in the sixties) turn inwards into self-loathing. Outside of Mark's queer friends, the vast majority of secondary characters inhibit this middle-ground where some of them know to an extent what's going on between Mark and Eddie, or it's a gamble to come out to them so Mark and Eddie take risks where it matters, but otherwise don't.

There is something of a third-act break-up, but it's kind of half-hearted because Mark does a hilariously shitty job of the breaking-up part, and Eddie is unwilling to let go. And that's heartening in a way because nothing can separate these two.

The sex:

Super romantic, super tender and the payoff after all their tip-toeing around their feelings is worth it. There's also an element of exploration that I thought really worked, because while they've both had sex before, Eddie especially is still trying to figure out what he likes, and there's an openness between them that you get the sense wasn't possible for Eddie before.

I will say, while there are multiple open-door sex scenes, the language gets a little more vague when they're having sex, and the writing focuses more on what they're saying and feeling, as opposed to exactly what they're doing. That doesn't mean it's less hot, it's just a little less explicit. There are also a couple instances where there are breaks in the writing between foreplay and post-coital.

Overall:

This is such a soft love story set in a period I don't see often in historical romances, and I adored both Eddie and Mark. I'd absolutely recommend this book to every romance reader out there, and for any reader in particular looking for a romance that slowly but surely packs an emotional punch.

Thank you to Avon Books and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

The great regular sleep experiment of 2024 day "I should stop making excuses for my stupid body"

Okay, I didn't sleep much during my night sleep. I'm tired.

And I know I was just blaming being a bit hyperthyroid, but the thing is I was more hyperthyroid the entire time since I had goiter and had to start packing in the iodine, and not sleeping didn't become the problem I was having until I tried to start pushing myself onto a regular schedule.

Before regular sleep I was sleeping 8-16 hours, now I sleep 4 hours okay-good-ish and then try and fail to sleep a separate 4 hours with mixed poor results...

This isn't sustainable for me and forcing myself to do a bunch of chores isn't either, but now that my brain is in this rough pattern I either have to wait for it to naturally break, or I have to try to force it to break and deal with whatever symptoms that causes.

I kind of feel like biting everything.

Anyway I finished making cookie batter when I got up and I had a thought yesterday about laundry... I want to catch up but doing a big tub in the shower hurts my spine so so bad... and there's only so much I can do in the sink and then have the room to hang, so I have been ding little batches and then having to wait for that to fully dry... BUT if I just set up the drying rack in the shower stall, I can hand wash clothes periodically through a day or two out here and then to hang them in the shower. They only take about a day to dry, so if I shower first, it shouldn't get in the way of anything. Then I can wash my bedding, then the only laundry I will ever have is to wash the outfit I am wearing, or my current bedding and towel, before I put it away/back. Bam. Forever completely caught up on laundry and dishes. I have a system now. I was only behind before because of all the times I had to run myself down organizing boxes and furniture in here since moving in.

Really the fact that I can maintain anything in my health should be super impressive, let alone chip away at other things, but I want to get downsized and settled in already. I want the 'reclaiming my life' part done so I can do the 'living my life' part. It's been almost a year since I got this place and escaped the problems involved with shitty roommates.

I have no idea what possessed me and made me think regular sleep would help me specifically. I am sure it was well intended, but I am always forgetting the very specific reasons why I don't do the things you would assume would be helpful to anyone. It's always because I tried it upside down and sideways, for months or years at a time, tracked and documented all of it, and made the very informed decision that it is worse actually, or at best unnecessary.

I am very much a 'runs a practical experiment on myself and uses the results' kind of person. Tracking the food I ate and my symptoms is how I eliminated half my migraines and figured out I have MCS which my doctor later confirmed, doing so no longer serves a function until a problem comes up. Doing monthly budgeting and tracking receipts for years is how I figured out I don't need to do that. I am consistently under budget and always saving up money if there's any money to spare, through most of it I was on welfare and had only 200 to spend per month and I just watched it all go to basic necessities every month. When I got more money I started ordering crafting supplies or buying tools here or there... And then I stopped that too and otherwise the only change in spending is that i still don't and just shove the extra in savings for the next emergency or need. Budgeting for me just doesn't accomplish anything, I KNOW where all my money is going. Or caffeine, turns out fully cutting caffeine for months on end does nothing except make me agitated and unfocused and increase the number of migraines I get as an overall trend, all long after the possibility of withdrawal symptoms, because I have adhd and a migraine disorder, both of which are known to be helped my caffeine.

I test these things but I also have a shit memory, apparently, because I fucking know why regular sleep doesn't work for me and I don't know why I thought this would help...

But for science, and because I already fell in this trap, we march on.

If I start to sound like maybe there's a gas leak in my apartment you'll know why.

On the bright side, when I am really tired or didn't sleep well, or get a headache, or the sudden onset sleepies... I only have to force myself awake till my next viable sleep slot, which is 5 hours in the morning and my night slot can happen at 6pm or 12midnight I don't care which. So it'll be easier to maintain that over time and my cat won't wake me up constantly if he gets used to it too.

Oh yeah, that's half of why i decided to try this... My cat thinks humans only sleep for 4 hours at a time max, unless they are very sick. Because of me. Because he lives with me, so trying to sleep 8 hours a day in a solid chunk at random times just meant he was waking me up every 2-3 hours no matter what and that wasn't sustainable either. I remember now. I always wake up half way through for a bit anyway, so whatever.

[cheapcourses]

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[yourmidnightlover]

pain reliever

TW: descriptive talk abt period cramps ig?, talk abt cysts, mutual pining lol

Summary: in which spencer and Y/N love each other but refuse to tell each other. Y/N's having major period pain, the effect of a cyst, and spencer comes over to comfort her.

WC: 3,744

A/N - this one’s a bit of a rollercoaster. it has three different POV’s so just bear with me please!

masterlist

--------------------

don't get me wrong, working at the BAU is amazing and definitely has it's perks, but it also has several downsides too. one of those pesky little downsides includes the amount of time off we have.

meaning we don't have much downtime.

this was one of the rare occasions when we were able to have two weeks off, the result of a very strenuous case.

this time was so exciting, spencer and i planned to go out to a movie he'd been dying to see. nobody else wanted to go with him and were being absolute jerks about it, so i automatically stepped up to go with him.

i went to bed the night before we were supposed to go out after showering. i was actually excited to be able to spend some time with him.

i couldn't help but begin to have feelings for him soon after i joined the team. i mean, who would be able to resist those amazing curls, the sweet smile, kind spirit, not to even mention how smart he is.

he didn't know that, of course. and i planned for him to never know. i was able to keep it a secret for 5 and a half years, and i didn't plan on stopping that streak anytime soon. i didn't want to ruin the friendship i had with him by confessing my undying love for him only to confirm my fears of it being unrequited.

i woke up groaning, the effect of an intense pain on my neck, back, and uterus. I almost immediately knew what that meant, sadly.  

i ran to the bathroom, only to find my suspicions confirmed. my period has always been irregular but about a year ago, i started getting terrible cramps when it wasn't anywhere close to the time for my period.

i went to the doctor to find out a cyst had grown on my left ovary so i started taking birth control per my doctor's request. the only thing about the birth control i was on was that it made me sick when i was on the green pill, so i had to stop taking it.

not taking it meant my period was always a surprise. but hey... at least i wasn't pregnant i guess.

when i took the birth control, it also lessened the cramps. not taking it also brought them back. sometimes not even the extra strength mydol was able to subside the terrible cramps that would ripple throughout my body.

those cramps meant that i needed to cancel my plans with spencer. i could only hope he wouldn't take it as me not wanting to spend time with him.

although, i certainly didn't want him to see me like this.

i decided i would take a shower in attempt to wash the dirty feeling off of my body. I could just call him after i got out and tell him i have a bug or something.

i took my time washing myself, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. cysts normally only affect the uterus area and cause discomfort at most times, but it always becomes severely worse during that time of the month.

luckily, my doctors helped create an appointment for a procedure to remove the cyst. the only catch being that the appointment is still 6 months away.

i finished showering and wrapped a towel around my body before popping two mydol's in my mouth and swallowing. i grabbed my cell and quickly dialed spencer's name.

"Y/N! hi. what's up?" he asked sweetly. i could hear the excitement in his voice.

"hey, spence," i started, already feeling terrible for the sad news. "i won't be able to go out today. i really, really wish i could. i came down with something and don't think i'm well enough to go out. i'm so sorry," i murmured, already regretted having to cancel.

"oh... that's okay. are you alright? do you need me to take you to the doctor?" he asked all worried. i giggled softly.

"no, that's alright, spence. thank you though. i think i'm probably just gonna get some house work done in the meantime," i declared with a sigh.

"you're planning on cleaning when you're sick? another reason to never doubt the strength of a woman, i suppose," he quipped, another laugh erupting from my chest, this one being louder.

"that, spencer reid, is why you're my best friend," i said with a smile.

"that and the fact that you actually listen to my incessant babbling and rambles," he remarked.

"i actually happen to enjoy those rambles, doctor. don't sell yourself short," I demanded in a sweet tone.

"thank you, Y/N. you should get some rest. don't overexert yourself," he said sweetly. "in all the years i've known you you've only been sick a number of times, so i would imagine you really don't feel too well," he declared. "goodbye."

"goodbye, spencer. s-sorry again," I stammered out.

I hung up the phone before actually getting dressed in some proper underwear. I threw on some loose shorts and skipped putting a bra on, my boobs were really sore, opting for just throwing a tank top on.

i started with doing the dishes from last night. the medicine was kind of kicking in, not fully taking the stabbing pain away but lessening it enough to where it would be manageable.

once the dishes were done i started doing the laundry, taking breaks in-between loads. during the breaks i made sure to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated.

part of me was debating going to the store to pick up some dark chocolate, ice cream, kale chips, and some chinese, but i decided against it.

i'm sure if i went out i would immediately regret it and have the pain 10x worse, just because that's my luck. so, suffering alone it was.

once i finished all of the laundry, i sat down on the couch. i had been going for about three hours, and definitely felt the toll it was taking on my body.

i turned on FRIENDS and grabbed a heating pad from a bin in my living room. i placed the pad on my upper back and groaned at the heat.

before i knew it, i was dead asleep.

SPENCER'S POV

i didn't buy it.

she never gets sick, and when she does it's like she's dying. she doesn't laugh when she's sick, and her voice wasn't as nasally.

don't get me wrong, something was obviously wrong with her, but she wasn't sick sick. maybe another sick.

what else would cause her to cancel plans with me? she's never done that before.

although, there was one time where she mentioned her needing to go to the doctor for a consult about a cyst. maybe it was the cyst?

wait... her uterus. the cyst was on her uterus.

we were on a case a couple months back, and this unsub was hard to track down. when we managed to figure out where he was, she ended up having to chase him down. she had to run a mile for at least 7 minutes before actually getting him. he was only 25 and was an exercise fanatic.

after catching the guy and bringing him in she had a hard time hiding her discomfort. even at the station, abut an hour later, she was still grabbing her lower stomach in pain. when i asked her what was wrong she told me about the cyst and where it was.

although, the cyst never really affected her energy level since then. she was able to go out on cases and perform perfectly fine.

the only thing that it could've been would be her- ohhh!!

oh...

i should get her something. food. she loves food.

she's probably in a lot of pain right now because of that. she shouldn't have to handle that pain 24/7. she was so sweet, and caring, and generous, and loving, and undeserving of any sort of discomfort.

to be honest, i've had the largest crush on her since after she joined the BAU. who wouldn't?

she's such an amazing person. just being around her lightens my mood. not to mention her beauty. don't get me wrong, i absolutely love her mind and everything about her personality, but the beauty she beholds is beyond anything i've ever encountered. then again, maybe the feelings i have for her boost that beauty in my eyes.

it was that beauty that kept me quiet. why would someone with beauty as ethereal as hers even look at a guy like me? it's like she's not meant for this world. she's too good for this world.

i'm in too deep now to share my feelings. i would do anything to keep her light in my life, even if that meant keeping all my love for her bottled up.

my heart ached at the thought of her in pain that i can't help her subside. the least i could do is be there for her.

i quickly grabbed my keys- yes, that's right. i'm driving for her. what kind of man am i?- and headed out of my apartment.

i went to the grocery store and picked up some of her favorites, dark chocolate, mint chip ice cream, kale chips, and... chinese. she loves chinese, so surely that's what she's craving. if she doesn't want it i would gladly get her whatever it is she does want.

i would give her the entire world if i could.

after picking the items up, i made my way to her place and pulled her key out of my pocket after she didn't answer my knock the first couple times. We had both decided to give each other a copy of our keys for safety purposes, result of me becoming the designated driver after a girl's night out gone wrong.

long story short, all the girls left with someone, leaving Y/N stranded at a heavily populated bar. if the girls weren't drunk when they left then i know i would've scolded them for leaving her in such danger. hell, they were FBI agents and left a friend who wasn't in her right mind alone in the middle of the night.

the only reason i was able to pick her up was because she drunkingly called me, slurring her words together. that's a story for another time.

i held the bags in one hand and the chinese food under my arm while i unlocked the door and quitely walked in. i saw her laying down on the couch, looking so peaceful.

SECOND PERSON

spencer looked at you as you slept. he noticed the heating pad laying on your back as your face was partially smushed from the couch. he'd never seen anything so adorable.

he pushed a strand of hair out of your face as he gently tapped your shoulders to wake you. you squinted at him in confusion for a second before you finally spoke.

"spencer? wh-what're you doing here?" you questioned him in disbelief.

you had no idea why he was here. you had told him you couldn't go out, right?

"me being the amazing profiler i am figured out what was actually wrong," he gloated. "i brought your favorite snacks and came with chinese food. if you want something else i could always go back out and-"

"did you drive?" you squeaked.

"why wouldn't i? you're in pain right now, that's the least i could do to somehow help you," he gushed.

you felt tears pricking your eyes at his confession. how could someone be so selfless and kind as to put themselves though something they hate doing for you?

"hey-hey, what is it?" he worriedly questioned.

"i-it's just... th-that's so sweet, and nice, and you hate driving, and you're such an amazing person, and i don't deserve you," you sniffled out, the tears flowing past my eyes as you sat up on the couch to give him a place to sit.

He grabbed the heating pad that fell off your back and set it on the coffee table before wiping your tears. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as you lightly cried into his shirt for a few minutes before pulling back.

"sorry about your shirt," you whined.

"don't worry about it. and i truly think it's me who doesn't deserve you, Y/N," he said softly. "now, let's dig into the food. i'm actually hungry right now, i had to smell it the entire way here and it's been taunting me ever since," he said seriously, eliciting another laugh out of you. "oh! there she is! i love hearing your laugh," he smiled.

"oh, you're just saying that," you waved him off as he feigned offense with a loud gasp.

"are you accusing me of lying, Y/N? i'm terribly offended," he shot his hand over his heart in an attempt to mock pain as he groaned.

"i would never, spencie," you taunted with a smirk before getting an actual cramp.

your face contorted slightly in pain as you bent over in an attempt to ease the discomfort. it felt like someone was stabbing your entire lower stomach and punching you all at once. the pain and sudden movement made your head begin to throb intensely, so you didn't know where to put your hands. your stomach or head? you chose stomach.

spencer felt horrible as he watched you go through such pain.

"what hurts, Y/N/N? let me help you," spencer pleaded.

"head. really bad," you groaned.

he got behind you as his hands found your temples and began massaging them gently, being able to subside the pain pulsing in your head. while your stomach still hurt, the pain became bearable again, allowing you to sit up and face spencer. he saw that your eyes were full of tears once again and his arms flew around you.

he hated that you had to go through that... every month too? your pain tolerance has always been high, something spencer learned after you got shot in the thigh and didn't even shed a tear, so he knew the fact that tears were in your eyes had meant the pain had to be terrible.

"food?" he said softly, you nodded eagerly, still being wary of the headache.

he went into your kitchen and put away the ice cream, chocolate, and kale chips before getting the chinese. he grabbed you a water bottle from your fridge before exiting the kitchen and sitting beside you on the couch.

"why didn't you tell me they were this bad?" spencer wondered.

"i didn't want you to worry, or see me like this," you shrugged.

it was true, you hated anyone seeing you hurt or weak. you prided yourself on being tough and strong enough to withstand most things. the fact that a measly monthly period was breaking you hurt your ego more than you'd like to admit.

for spencer, he didn't care. the only thing he wanted to do was make sure you were okay and be there for you when you weren't. he was determined to help you through this time. it made him feel... important. he enjoyed caring for others as it gave him a sense of purpose.

"Y/N, i don't care what state you're in. i always enjoy seeing you. and i'm always here to help you. asking for help makes you stronger than you'd think," he soothed you.

one thing you loved about him was that he always had a way with words. he was able to make you feel safe in the most dangerous situations, calm in the most chaotic, comfortable in the most destitute, and all with words.

you ate your food rather quickly after realizing you hadn't eaten all day. you were unashamed of eating that much, too. you'd become so comfortable with him over the years that you didn't feel embarrassed over something as routine as eating as you normally would with others.

after spencer finished eating he insisted on cleaning up rather than you do it yourself.

and to think, you thought you couldn't fall deeper in love with the man and here you were, falling deeper the longer he stayed.

little did you know that spencer was already madly in love with you.

he came back and sat beside you gently, looking at you with the utmost adoration that you couldn't see since you were back to being doubled over in pain.

"let's get you laid down, hmm?" spencer suggested as he gently rubbed your back.

"mhmm," you agreed, sitting up far too quickly. your back shot out in pain as you tried to straighten out, bringing a groan to your lips and causing you to twist your torso in an attempt to avoid any more hurt. "i guess i can just stay here," you said, resuming the doubled-over position.

spencer wanted to cry himself seeing you so defeated. you were the most strong-willed person he knew and here you were, giving up on something. he wouldn't let that happen.

"you'll be more comfortable in the bed. i'll carry you since you can't get up, okay?" spencer suggested.

you hummed in defeat as he swiftly scooped you up, leaving your body folded up as you swung your arms around his neck. he laid you down on the bed gently as you groaned at your back stretching out.

"turn over on your stomach," spencer ordered.

"wh-what? why?" you wondered.

"you'll see when you do it, ms. stubborn-pants," he teased.

you groaned and flopped onto your stomach, reaching to cuddle the pillow your head was resting on. spencer secretly wished he was that pillow.

his hands fell onto your back, applying light pressure right between your shoulder blades.

"ohh, this is what you were gonna do," you hummed in content as his hands continued to work their magic. he gathered your hair and pulled it to the side as he worked his way up to your neck. "ugh that feels amazing, spence," you groaned.

spencer huffed a laugh at your enthusiasm, him being happy that he can subside some of your pain. if doing something as simple as giving you a massage made you happy, he was happy.

spencer worked his hands back down to your shoulders and worked out nearly every single knot on your back. you felt your breathing slow from the relaxation and didn't even realize how good of a distraction your hands on her body were. if only you could massage my boobs, you thought with a laugh.

"umm... what?" spencer questioned.

"hmm?" you questioned, suddenly realizing that you had said that out loud. "i didn't say anything," you said, your voice raising an octave as you spoke.

spencer knew what he had heard, but decided to drop it to make you more comfortable.

"right, sorry," he said with a smile. maybe you did have feelings for him.

he continued the massage and noticed you were asleep after about ten more minutes. He sighed as he watched your hair move with each breath you took. he relished in the fact that he helped you achieve something, that he was useful for something.

"god, i love you so much," he whispered. "i love you so much, i don't even think i could tell you how much i truly love you."

you were awake. you heard him. you heard every word. you were in that weird between stage when you weren't really asleep, but you weren't necessarily awake either.

"i love you too, spencer," you spoke.

spencer shot up at your words, realization hitting him as you stirred in what he assumed was your sleep. you rolled over onto your back and looked into his eyes.

"i love you so, so much, spence," you smiled, noticing the shocked look on his face.

"y-you do?" he babbled.

"of course i do. how could i not?" you quipped, noticing his utter nervousness.

"i-i can't believe it. you love me?"

"how many times do i have to say it? i love you, spencer reid. i love you," you said as the shocked expression on his face turned into one of pure happiness and joy.

"i love you, Y/N Y/L/N. i've loved you for so long..." he trailed off, bringing your body into his arms.

"and fyi, i mean the romantic way if you didn't catch that," you joked.

"good because that's exactly how i meant it," he said, pulling back to look at you once again. "ca-can i kiss you?" he asked as his hands were balanced on the back of your neck.

you nodded eagerly before his lips crashed into yours passionately as you placed your hands on his face. the feeling of his sharp jawline with his scruffy facial hair something you've been wanting to feel against your skin for far too long.

spencer tugged gently at your hair, bringing a soft moan to your lips, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth gingerly. he was immediately granted dominance as you allowed his tongue to travel into your mouth, investigating it thoroughly.

you were both in a state of euphoria as you delved into each other's presence in a new manner. both of you knew this discovery would change your relationship, but you had both gone through every scenario in your minds in the many years' past.

you finally pulled back at another sharp pain in your uterus.

"ouchhh," you grimaced.

"are you okay? what can i do?" he wondered eagerly.

"just cuddle with me?" you asked with pleading eyes.

"of course i can," he smiled.

he moved up to the headboard and laid his head on one of your pillows after getting underneath the covers. after he opened his arms, you rested your head on his chest and threw one arm over his torso, interlacing your legs underneath the sheets. he brought one arm around your waist as the other drew you closer across your shoulders. You nestled your head into his neck and inhaled his comforting scent.

"you smell good," you giggled.

"thank you," he laughed at your compliment.

"spencer?" you asked.

"yea, Y/N?"

"you're my pain reliever."

[cherrysha]

Lesson Learned

Okay so it’s canon that nobu is not not the sharpest. Motherfucker locked the door when two kids smashed thru a wall to break out. So I was sittin there like 🤔 what typa yandere would he be? Like if he didn’t want to use force what would he do instead? I think he’d stall trying to think it through until it was too late to be subtle.so i wrote abt it.

Summary: Nobu helps you through a breakup. Also the reader is very naive

Word Count: 2.8k

My requests are open atm

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk sex, unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, yandere themes, dubcon/noncon

  18+ Only

Taglist: @ramwrites​ @prettycutebunny​ @absolute-flaming-trash​

Nobu meets you there, a small rundown looking bar on the outskirts of town. As he enters, he sees you sitting at the bar, a small smile on your face as you vacantly stare at the wooden countertop. That, along with the half empty glass in your hand, makes it clear that you’ve started without him.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Ahh, a waste of four months of my life! Rejoicing the end of a shit relationship.”

You’ve already managed to make a scene, much to his dismay. The bystanders around you seemingly more boisterous as you raise your shot in cheers.

“I’ll buy us a round for that!” The tall brunette next to you chuckles. Older, maybe in her late forties, and a little drunker than you were right now. As she hands you the drink, he can’t help but think of the ten different ways she could’ve spiked it with something, how trusting you were when you truly shouldn’t have been. Of course, he wouldn’t let that happen to you, but the thought alone is enough to irritate him.

He’d manufactured the breakup, of course. Planted a seed in your mind that the man was seeing someone else and carefully placed evidence when he knew he wouldn’t be caught. It was surprisingly easy. The cheap plastic lock on your window wasn’t all that sturdy; He’d told you to change it before he left but you’d just shrugged and told him that there wasn’t anything in your apartment worth stealing. So naive. Couldn’t really blame you for finding someone though. It seemed somewhere along the way he’d miscalculated. Thought maybe if given time you’d come to realize just how much he meant to you, how much you meant to each other. Obviously, his mistake was giving you a choice in the matter.

“You gunna drink Nobu?” You giggle, hands tugging and getting lost in the folds of his robe. Always so handsy when you drank; At least your affection was focused on him this time.

“Not tonight sweetheart” he smiles at the pronounced pout on your face, lip jutting out at him.

He wraps an arm around you to the other side of the stool and pushes you closer.

“Hey, if I’m drunk too then who’s gunna watch out for you? Can’t defend your honor if I can’t see straight right?”

His teasing and light poke of your nose makes you giggle again, burying your head in his side. Nobu had always felt safe, one of the few men who wouldn’t read your affection as flirtation. You could hug him the same way that you did with your girl friends and not have to worry about it being misconstrued.

It didn’t take as long as he thought it would for you to call him, if anything you’d messaged him maybe two hours after he planted the women’s clothing in your apartment. Sure, he didn’t expect you to go and get wasted, but he could work with this. So sweet, that’s what infatuated him in the first place. Trusting and affectionate and so, so gullible. Couldn’t tell when a man wanted you, when he wanted you.

As per your earlier request to “keep ‘em comin’” The bartender slides you another drink. Something fruity from the looks of it. He smiles as you play with the condensation on the side of the glass.

“Can I ask you something?”

You’re hesitant and he wonders if it’s because he may say no, or because of the answer you may get.

“Shoot.”

Your apprehension is almost palpable, but he ignores the little squirm of your body against his.

“D-D’you mind if I stay with you tonight? I mean I gave him a couple of days to move out and all and I -“

“It’s fine.” He tries to make his voice sound irritated, but follows it up with something sweet to discourage you from backtracking. “What are friends for, right? You can stay until he’s gone.” Offers you a kind smile to subdue any apprehension you felt.

When he left you’d found someone. Some bland looking man who had a desk job and promised you a plain life. As if that’s what you wanted.

He can’t help but smile as you take shot after shot, body swaying with the boom from the overhead speakers. It’s only when you get really loud that he decides it’s time to go.

“Y’don’t wanna dance Nobu?” You slur as he practically carries you out.

“No, baby I think it’s time we left” you start to whine but he hushes you, stopping in front of your car to dig through your purse for the keys.

“Hey Nobu?” You whisper, eyes blank and staring at the wet concrete.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You don’t respond so he figures you’ve already forgotten the question and focuses on getting you in the vehicle and securing your belt. Head resting against the seat, you close your eyes, only speaking again when the car is pulling out of the lot.

“Nobu?”

He doesn’t respond. Focuses on the road as you work through whatever you had to say

“Nobu...I think maybe I wasn’t good enough.” his eyes flick to you as he gives you a sigh.

“Any man that thinks you’re not good enough is a fucking idiot.” He expected this. Made a list of answers to your self-hatred so he wouldn’t get angry in the moment. Such a stupid thought, he blames it on the alcohol to soothe the irritation in his chest.

-

“Why did you wear a dress anyway?” He questioned, sitting on the edge of his bed as you take your hair down.

“Cuz then I can take it off easy! Pants are too hard when you’re drunk.”

He’s seen your panty-clad ass multiple times tonight. Teasing him with every sloppy movement you made. Getting on the stool at the bar, getting off of it, getting in and out of the car. He got a good look at the pretty lace covering your womanhood. As you pull it over your head, he gets to see a little pink bow that rests at the top of the underwear this time.

So brash, in all the years he’d been by your side he’d never seen this much of you. He knew it was the drinks, but It’s almost like you wanted it.

“Nobu?”

He hesitates, taking in the way your body looks as you stretch your arms above your head, yawn falling from your open mouth.

“Yeah?”

“D’you have something I could sleep in?” You ask it like you know he’s willing to give you something. Like he doesn’t want to see your naked body in his bed, fucked out and delirious with pleasure.

“What if I don’t?” He tried to mask the lust on his face with indifference and watches as you cross your arms.

“Not even a shirt?” He shakes his head no.

Too tired to really care, and too wasted to have any modesty, you crawl into his bed with a huff.

“Fine! Be like that then!” So cute when you were mad, face scrunching up as if your reaction alone could sway him. To be fair, it usually did.

He’s deftly untying his robe when he speaks over his shoulder to you.

“I don’t want you throwing up on my stuff... lucky I’m not making you sleep on the couch.” He mutters loud enough for you to hear.

He expects you to get angrier, but his fingers halt when he hears your giggle.

“What’s so funny y/n?” He stands, taking his pants off before coming to sit next to your body sprawled across his bed. You acted as if you belonged. A breathing sculpture made for his eyes only and soft skin forged just for his hands to enjoy. In his bed. Giggling and almost naked.

“You wouldn’t ever ever make me sleep on the couch!”

“And why’s that?” He grunts

“Because I’m your best friend” And you say it with so much confidence it pulls a smile to his face.

“Ah, I guess you’re right there.”

After a few beats he lets his hair down and comes to join you, laying to rest next to your body as you begin to squirm with a frown.

“What’s wrong now?”

 “My bra... I need a shirt... can’t take it off without a shirt.. cuz then -“

“Take it off y/n.” His tone is clipped and the way he’s staring at you, you read it as annoyed. He’s right, he’s your best friend. It’s only weird because you’re making it weird. The alcohol fuzzes any concept of propriety from your mind.

You sit up and try to unclasp it yourself but, in your state, the tiny hooks are a puzzle you can’t quite figure out. Just fucking asking for it, he thinks to himself as you allow him to unclip it for you. He takes the initiative to trail his fingers down your arms with the straps, watching goosebumps raise on your flesh.

“Thanks nobu” You smile, quickly covering yourself with the blanket before he has a chance to get a proper look.

It’s maddening. He’s painfully hard, has been painfully hard since you took the damn dress off. He takes a few moments to collect himself, propped up on the bed with an elbow, he pinches the bridge of his nose. Closes his eyes and breathes.

“D-Did I do something?” You whisper, face half hidden under the comforter as you stare up at him.

“No. It’s just -“ he pauses, thinks of something to say besides ‘you’re being a fucking tease and it’s taking everything in me to be patient with this’

“You know how many people could’ve taken advantage of you tonight?”

He looks for a response and finds you shaking your head ‘no’, blanket tucked around your chest as big watery eyes meet his.

“Fuck me” he groans.

Having enough, he pushes you flat on your back, arm coming to cup your face.

“Don’t cry. Just answer me.” He still sounds annoyed, so you obediently lay there and listen. What if you annoyed him so bad that he forced you to leave? It’s not like you could go home, or even get there in this state.

“What if someone touched you like this?” His hand keeps caressing the side of your face, thumb swiping down to your bottom lip every so often.

“Someone bigger than you... you couldn’t do anything, huh?”

“I could try to get away..” and it comes out as more of a question.

His hand travels down your throat to lightly grip your neck.

“What if they were faster?”

You whimper and it takes a moment for him to realize that it’s not from pain. He’s used to being a little too rough, so he checks his grip. You liked this. His hand around your throat, panting at it even though he didn’t apply enough pressure to leave you breathless.

“I - could scream”

“Ah…”

His hand pulls the blanket down, giving you a sharp stare when you try to cover yourself up again. With the object out of the way he can finally see them. Pert nipples and plump skin, they look like they’d be heavy in his hand and with a grunt he confirms his suspicions. he shifts his weight and frees up his other hand, you mewl as he cups both of them. Squeezing them softly he asks you “What if you couldn’t scream?”

Your mind is fried. Torn between being uncomfortable with your best friend softly palming your breasts, okay with it because he was only teaching you a lesson, and shamefully turned on at the warm pressure of his hands on you.

“I....I..” you squeal as his pinches your nipples, eyes narrowing as he rolls them between his fingers.

“Stop moving... I’m trying to teach you something here.”

Like a good girl, you try to still yourself. You look unsure, as if you don’t know what to do, how to feel. When his hand travels to play with the waistband of your panties you finally collect yourself enough to wrap a hand around his wrist.

“No... wait!” You’re wet, embarrassingly so, to the point you can feel it sticking your panties to you. If he went any lower... if he saw it..

“Let go” it comes out as a growl, actual anger making its way into his face. And you do, because he’s already mad at you and now you were just making it worse.

His hand cups you through the fabric, eyebrows raising at the wetness dampening the cloth there. Shame fills your face and you can’t stand to look at him. It’s not that you were trying to stop him. Seeing the look in your eyes he can tell you’re embarrassed by it. This was what you were trying to hide? He scoffs and pushes the scrap of fabric to the side. Wants to warm you up, play with your clit until you’re a mess underneath him, but once he feels just how wet you are, he abandons that plan. Instead he opts to shove two fingers as deep into your pussy as they can go. Moaning, your back arches as he starts to curl his digits up into that little slice of heaven inside you.

“What if someone got their fingers in you like I did? What if they weren’t your friend and you didn’t want it?” He’s growling lowly as he nuzzles against your neck, teeth nipping at the soft skin as he sucks bruises.

“Nobu!”

You try to wriggle away from his mouth ravaging you, moving down to your breast and grazing his teeth against your nipple.

“Nobu…Nobu...” his name becomes a mantra on your lips as you grab a fistful of his hair. A thumb roughly circles your clit and the pressure continues to build. A few more minutes, a few more curls of his fingers and you’re close... so close your muscles start to tighten, whimpers getting lost in the open air as they escape your throat.

Before you can, though, he pulls back. Pushes you onto your belly, hands pulling hips up until you’re in the position he wants. Gently rubs circles into the small of your back and before you can even understand what’s going on, his cock is filling you up from behind.

“Fuck” he grits out. You’re still mumbling his name strewn along with quiet little whimpers. “Someone could’ve fucked you like this” he bends down to your ear as his hips slam into yours.

“Taken you like a bitch in heat.”

His hand squeezes tight to your throat and it makes apologies fall from your mouth. So tight he loses himself in the feel of it. Slows his hips down until all he’s doing is grinding up into you. Closes his eyes as his teeth clamp around your shoulder. So much wasted time waiting when it only would’ve taken him one night and a few bottles. He rocks into you quick, loving the sharp cry of his name you let out, followed by apologies.

“Stop sayin you’re sorry” he grits out, feeling the way you tighten around him at the sound of his voice.

“Just tell me.... would you want someone else doin this you?”

You yelp as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hip, not so subtly pushing you back and forth on his cock.

“No!” Your voice cracks when his hips make contact with yours again.

He smiles “But it’s okay because I’m your friend, right?”

You nod fervently, heat building up in your core at an alarming rate.

“Wanted my cock in you…” you keep nodding, incoherently agreeing to whatever he has to say as he pinches your nipple.

Such a good girl, so submissive already. His other hand pushes against the small of your back, deepening the arch until your face is smushed against the pillows.

He keeps hitting your cervix, the tip of his cock forcefully bumping into it with every movement. Already knows how sore you’re going to be tomorrow, but that’s what he wants. Wants your legs to feel like jelly, thighs sore and cunt aching from being filled so well. Wants to hear you beg as he tries to soothe the ache with his tongue.

The bed muffles the screams as you cum around him, arms shooting back to desperately shove him off. It’s no use, hands grab your arms and he uses them as leverage to fuck you through it. When he’s satisfied, he wraps one arm around your stomach as the other settles at the hollow of your throat. Fucks up into you as he peppers kisses to the side of your face.

“So good for me” And the praise makes a sweet little cry escape from you. So pretty, and all his. The realization makes his thrusts more urgent. A few more jerky movements and he stills himself deep inside, slightly lifting you off the bed as he forgets to be gentle. He doesn’t want to, but fuck if he can control himself, he cums inside with a shaky moan. He rests there for a beat, enjoying the warmth around him, before he pulls out.

Nobu sets you down, laughing softly as your legs give out underneath you. “You learn your lesson sweetheart?”

[purplesurveys]

1281

survey by chasingghosts

Who?

Who was the last person you had an intelligent debate with? Not so sure - maybe Angela and Reena. Our group chat will occasionally veer towards serious topics.

Who was the last person who cooked something for you? Dad, I believe; but I can also hear my mom preparing breakfast downstairs so she will be the next last person haha.

Who was the last person who you heard singing? Other than me, my co-worker Dev’s sibling when we had our weekly ~fade-out-slash-bonding call with the rest of the team last Friday. She had left her mic on while we were all doing the last remaining bits of work for the week and I could hear her sibling humming in the background.

Who was the last person you kissed and it meant something? My ex.

Who was the last person you were upset with? Myself.

Who was the last person you danced with? I don’t really dance with other people unless...like, drunk. But I guess my swaying and bouncing with Angela when we watched Sowoozoo counts.

Who was the last person you felt awkward around? The food delivery rider who was bringing food my aunt wanted to send over to us yesterday. He seemed very confused for reasons I’m still very confused by lmao, so it all made for an awkward encounter. 

Who was the last person who borrowed something from you? My mom went into my closet last week to grab something of mine, but I have no idea what it was since I had been half-asleep when she walked in.

Who was the last person who showed you how to do something? My dad taught me how to make coffee that wasn’t from a 3-in-1 sachet lol.

Who was the last person you went shopping with? I don’t really go shopping, much less with other people.

Who was the last person you had a crush on? I haven’t crushed on anyone since my ex, and the people I find attractive nowadays are all celebrities haha.

Who was the last person who made you cry? Myself.

Who was the last person you shared a bed with? Oh, that’s been a while. Still Gabie, I’m pretty sure.

Who was the last person you got drunk with? We were quite a bunch at Angela’s place two weeks ago, but I’ll name a few - her, Reena, Pia, Hans, Al.

Who was the last person who touched your hair? Not sure. Maybe my dad.

What?

What was the last pair of shoes you wore? It was a pair of adidas sneakers.

What was the last birthday party you attended? The last birthday celebration (not necessarily a party) I went to was Angela’s. I darted to her house straight after work that day cos there was no way I was going to miss out on her birthday.

What was the last thing you said to your mother? I think it was just to bid her goodnight last night.

What was the last song you listened to? Seesaw by Suga.

What was the last thing you thought about before going to sleep last night? I was thinking about my headache and how I wanted to fall asleep immediately.

What was the last fun thing you did with your family? We had a Zoom party yesterday to celebrate my cousin Bree’s 12th birthday! Her family sent over takoyaki, milk tea, and pizza to all the households who went and we watched the birthday clips we sent for Bree. It was a lot of fun and it was a super nice break from how monotonous my weekends could be.

What was the last thing you borrowed from someone? My sister’s microfiber cloth so that I could clean my glasses.

What was the last vegetable you ate? I’m blanking out...which is weird because my dad puts veggies in most of the dinners he makes hahaha. Probably something like lettuce or pechay??

What was the last thing you bought online? My friends and I pre-ordered the second season of In The Soop so that we can watch it when it premieres later in the month. We’ll also have to purchase our tickets to BTS’ next online concert that’ll be happening this month too...thanks for reminding me I have to raise it with them haha.

What was the last thing you had to drink? I haven’t had to drink anything recently but the last thing I took a sip of was my coffee.

What was the last reason you went to see a doctor? Continued from yesterday morning. I had had a fever all week long and we couldn’t figure out how to lower my temperature, so we needed to go so I could finally be diagnosed with whatever it was. It turned out to be a UTI.

What was the last non-food item you purchased? Pre-order slots for a pay-per-view series.

What was the last type of yoghurt you ate? Ooh, I don’t like yogurt. I’m blanking out on the last time I had it.

What was the last fast food place you ate at? I haven’t dined in at a fast food place in a while – I think it may have been Jollibee, when Angela and I met up back in February. But I did get KFC for delivery a few weeks ago.

What was the last thing that bothered you and kept you awake? Doesn’t really happen to me nowadays. I get knocked out most nights.

When?

When was the last time you embarrassed yourself? I guess yesterday? I went to Starbucks to work for a little bit but since I hadn’t done dine-in for a couple of months, I had no idea the government modified the rules a bit and required people to bring their vaccination cards if they wanted to dine in. The barista explained the new rule and I ended up profusely apologizing because I didn’t have mine on me, and I also offered that I could just do take out; but she was nice and let me off the hook and just confirmed with me if I’ve had my shots.

When was the last time you watched a movie with someone? Just myself. I did watch Squid Game - binge-watched all 9 episodes straight - with my sister last Saturday, though.

When was the last time you charged your phone? Earlier this afternoon.

When was the last time you were sick with a cold? I dunno. 1 or 2 years ago, maybe? I rarely get colds.

When was the last time you spoke to a family member on the phone? Yesterday when my mom called me up.

When was the last time it rained where you live? Earlier today. Explains why it’s been humid the last few days.

When was the last time you laid awake, unable to sleep? Like I said, struggling to fall asleep doesn’t really happen to me anymore. I usually exhaust myself until I feel like I can pass out the second I close my eyes.

When was the last time you met someone new? I want to say two Fridays ago when I pitched a presentation to a new set of people but still within a client brand we manage.

When was the last time you filled up your car with petrol/gas? I don’t drive a lot, so it’s been a few months.

When was the last time you ate popcorn? Don’t like popcorn so I honestly can’t remember. My mom makes them occasionally though so I may have grabbed one or two just to have something to chew, sometime within the year.

When was the last time you went to a school event? March last year. A school event that had been held on a Friday was literally the last place I was at – by the time that very next Monday rolled around, classes were already suspended.

When was the last time you took the trash out? I’m not normally in charge of that chore so I haven’t done it.

When was the last time you did anything to change your appearance? Like...10 minutes ago? I just fixed my bun since my hair had started to look disheveled from being up all day.

When was the last time you cooked at home? Sometime in like November last year when I tried to make a sandwich. Anyway, my dad just left today to finally head back to his work for the first time in nearly two years, and I told myself (and him) that I should try to learn cooking at least one meal so that I can manage well while he’s gone haha.

When was the last time you had a sleepover? Maybe January of last year.

Where?

Where did you last go shopping for clothing? Not sure about physical spaces but I did open my Zalora app recently to look for cute bucket hats that I’ll probably never buy anyway hahaha.

Where did you last go on a date to? I don’t even remember. I deleted all photos a long time ago.

Where was the last wedding you went to? Manila Cathedral, if I’m not mistaken. This was well over a decade ago, though. I haven’t been to any other wedding since.

Where did you last park your car, other than home? Angela’s house when I visited a couple of weeks ago.

Where did you last leave your keys? Dining table.

Where did your last kiss take place? By my ex’s car when I was bidding her goodbye.

Where did you last go for a walk to? The mall, yesterday.

Where did you last take a vacation to? It was a staycation more than anything, but we stayed at Tagaytay for a night at the start of this year to celebrate my dad’s birthday.

Where did you last go to celebrate your own birthday? We stayed at home. I reported to work that day then just had a huge dinner with my family haha.

Where was the last place you had dinner at? No clue. I want to say Ramen Nagi? when I ate there on my own last February.

Where did you last go to exercise? Rooftop since it’s open-space and no one can see me.

Where did you last take public transport to? I don’t take public transport.

Where does the last person you hung out with live? A city close to mine.

Where did you last visit for the first time? A Korean restaurant close to Angela’s place.

Where did you last take a photo? Just my room.

[notebooknebula]

Brad Smotherman on Flipping Real Estate

https://www.jayconner.com/brad-smotherman-on-flipping-real-estate/

Brad Smotherman manages a 7 figure flipping business, and hold notes across Middle Tennessee. We invest in multiple states, and have houses from Michigan to Georgia right now.

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Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

The Private Money Academy http://www.JayConner.com/Trial

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Jay Conner (00:01): Well, hello there! And welcome to another exciting episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I’m Jay Conner, your host of the show. Also known as The Private Money Authority. And if you’re brand new to the show, here on this show, we talk about all things that relate to real estate investing. We talk about investing in single family houses, commercial projects, small apartments, self storage, land deals, notes. And we also talk about how to get funding for those deals creatively and with private money. Now, if you’re brand new to this show, I’m known as The Private Money Authority, because from 2003 to 2009, I relied on the local banks and mortgage companies to fund my deals. But then I got cut off with no notice in 2009, but it was one of the biggest blessing in disguise. I was introduced to this wonderful world of private money.

Jay Conner (01:02): Since that time I’ve never missed out on a deal. I’ve rehabbed over 400 houses. Done even more deals creatively. And the reason I’ve never missed out on a deal since 2009 is because I got the cash ready to buy those all cash deals. And as we know, most of the sellers require all the money. So I’ve got a brand new free gift for everybody that’s tuning here on the show. And that is, I just launched The Private Money Academy. Which is a monthly membership where we actually have two live zoom conference a month with yes, yours truly me. For at least an hour to an hour and a half answering all your real estate investing questions. Getting you plugged into private money and funding for your deals. And we also have a hot seat session where we will take one of the members of the Academy, put you in the hot seat, analyze your business, and create a plan to take you and your business to the next level.

Jay Conner (01:57): So I have a free gift for everybody tuning in, and that is four weeks absolute free access to The Private Money Academy. And you get to come on the next two live shows for the Academy membership. Absolutely for free! You can take advantage of that and learn all about it after the show today at http://www.JayConner.com/Trial that’s http://JayConner.com/Trial Be sure and check that out, come on in to the membership for free, and I’ll see you on the inside of those live zoom conference coaching calls.

Jay Conner (02:41): Well, as you know, if you’ve been tuning in to Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner, we have amazing guests and experts here on the show. And today is no exception. Before I bring my special guest out of the green room and here to the forefront. Let me tell you just a little bit about him. Well, my guest today is a real estate investor and a mentor. And he owns and manages a seven figure per year flipping business. So my guest and I, we’ve got a lot in common. Well, his passion is being a top house flipper in the nation. And his other passion is also helping other newer investors build a sustainable real estate investing company. Well, with 11 years, he started back in 2010 on the real estate investing side. With 11 years in the real estate investing business, he’s invested in over 15 States. And yes, today on today’s show, we’re going to be talking about how do you do this business remotely and totally virtually.

Jay Conner (03:41): He also has houses all the way from Michigan to Georgia. And today he has completed over 550 transactions today. Yes, he knows what he’s talking about from experience. In addition to that, he focuses on buying single family flips creatively. Using both subject to the existing note strategy, and he buys a lot with owner financing. In fact, he is known as the Owner Finance Guy. He also uses the strategy of selling retail or with owner financing, with creating wrap around notes. I know you’ve heard that terminology. Wrapping around a note. And if that’s sort of a new term to you or an old term, and you don’t know what it means, we’re going to talk about that on today’s show as well and how you can utilize that strategy as well.

Jay Conner (04:34): Well, he is also the host of one of the top 100 business podcasts in the nation. And the name of his podcast is Investor Creator. And there on the podcast, he teaches new and seasoned real estate investors. How to take their house flipping business to a multiple six or even seven figure income without sacrificing freedom. After all, what do we want in this real estate investing world is, wealth and freedom. And my guest today is an expert in that area. My guest lives in Nashville, Tennessee. And with that, welcome to the show, my friend and expert, Mr. Brad Smotherman! Brad, welcome to the show!

Brad Smotherman (05:18): Jay, I appreciate you having me on. I have a feeling we’re going to have so much fun with this. I’m just going to have to take a nap after we get done.

Jay Conner (05:24): Yes, you are! My lands! Brad, I’m so excited to have you on. And I know just by your intro, your bio and the short period of time that we’ve been around each other, we’ve got a lot in common. In fact, my best guess, one of your core values, and one of your secrets to success is having the mindset and the framework of putting other people first, having their interests ahead of your interest. Would you agree with that?

Brad Smotherman (05:52): Hundred percent! A hundred percent!

Jay Conner (05:54): So Brad, first of all, you look entirely too young to be this successful, but anyway, I’ll go beyond that statement pretty quickly. You’re from Nashville, Tennessee. You grow up in Nashville?

Brad Smotherman (06:06): I did. Born and raised.

Jay Conner (06:08): You’re sing country?

Brad Smotherman (06:10): No. I don’t see anything. And that’s a good thing for everybody that would have to listen. So for the people that know how to sing it I’ll just listen politely like everyone else.

Jay Conner (06:20): But now you enjoy going to the Grand Ole Opry, right?

Brad Smotherman (06:22): Oh, certainly! And like I was telling you guys before I’m out taking my grandmother to see Merle Haggard there twice, and we saw George Jones once and just had a great time. So, absolutely!

Jay Conner (06:33): That’s awesome. Well, I’m excited to have you here on the show today. Brad, because you’re known as the owner financed guy. You’re an expert in the area of buying houses on terms controlling them creatively or whatever. So first of all, if you would explain to the audience, what is your business model look like?

Brad Smotherman (06:59): Well, I think my business model is a little bit different than most because everybody out there, especially the past five or six years, what they wanted to do is, you know, they wanted to wholesale something. They wanted to fix something and flip it. And you know, the past 10 years we’ve had an explosion of these fix and flip TV shows. And frankly, Jay, those shows just give me anxiety. Like I can’t watch them. Literally. I went to the dentist the other day and asked me what I wanted to watch as I’m sitting there in the chair. I was like anything, but this HGTV stuff, right?

Jay Conner (07:25): Well, wait a minute, Brad. Now, why would I, why would a reality show that I’m sure is real, that shows you how to make a hundred grand in 30 minutes with no headaches. Why would that give you anxiety?

Brad Smotherman (07:36): Well, just like, you know, I mean, it’s not real. And then, you know, secondly, I’m looking at what they’re spending on the kitchen. I’m thinking I could do it for a sixth of that. And then the person buying the house, it’s like, well, what do you do for a living? And they say, well, we catch butterflies and rainbows all day. And our budget’s 2 million bucks and it’s just like, it just doesn’t seem exactly genuine to me. But maybe they’re just in a different market, a better market than I’ve ever seen. Let’s just say that.

Jay Conner (08:01): Yeah! I get it, Brother, I get it. Sorry to interrupt. What’s your business model looks like?

Brad Smotherman (08:04): Yeah. And that’s a hundred percent fine. So, you know, I started in 2010 and my background was very similar to yours in a certain way, although I didn’t live it. So I worked for a builder developer. Well, I sold real estate through college and everything was going really, really well up until the crash of ’08. And in 2009, the bankers came in and said, well, sorry, we’re going to have to call your loan. You have 30 days to pay us off. And as you know, during that time, there’s really no way to refinance commercial lending, you know, especially a development loan. And so it bankrupted them. And luckily I was able to learn the lessons from the crash without actually having to be involved in the crash. And so when that happened, I realized very quickly, I didn’t want bank money in my business. Very similar to what you’re dealing with. Right?

Brad Smotherman (08:46): So it’s like, guys, being able to raise private money is paramount to this business. Like what Jay is talking about is super, super important. But, so I got started in 2010 and back then, you really couldn’t wholesale because no, very few people had an equity position that was big enough to where you could wholesale it. And then also the fix and flip model was very difficult because that couldn’t get money. And so I had to find another way. Well, what I found worked. Has always worked and what I feel will always work is creating owner financing. And so what we do is we buy creatively when we buy and then we sell with owner financing and a vast majority of our transactions. We still go retail at times and that’s okay. But what we want to do is we want to create longterm cash flow with longterm capital assets. And for me, I’d rather have that in mortgage notes. I feel like it’s far more scalable than rentals. We’re able to get paid to take the note in most of our transactions. It’s not like I’m putting cash out there to invest. We’re getting longterm assets given to us. And I just had to find another way because I couldn’t, I didn’t want to wholesale, I couldn’t wholesale. And the fix and flip model looked like really difficult to me during that time. And so we’ve been pretty much doing a similar model ever since.

Jay Conner (09:53): So to recap what you just said, tell me if I got it right. Your core model is buy on terms, buy with owner financing, buy with subject to, buying creatively without paying all the cash. Take that same property, turn around and sell it creatively to a new buyer with owner financing or what have you. So let’s break that down. First of all, you said, the reason you do that is because you want to build longterm wealth by leveraging an asset that’s going to continue to pay you monthly for a long time. Is that right?

Brad Smotherman (10:38): A hundred percent. That’s right.

Jay Conner (10:40): So in today’s market, I know from my own business, I know from my students’ businesses that finding a deal today in the multiple listing service is a bonus. The deals are not in the multiple listing service buying large. So we have to find our deals off market. We have to find houses that are not in the multiple listing service. So if you don’t mind pulling back the curtain for us just a little bit and give us a little sneak peek as to what is working for you today to find these people that have houses for sale, or maybe they haven’t considered selling their house. How do you find these deals?

Brad Smotherman (11:30): That’s a great question. Well, I mean, as we know, everything starts with a motivated seller. So the foundation of the business is marketing for motivated sellers. Now for me, real estate is a means to an end. I mean, if I can do this business with dump trucks or swimming pools, I would do that. I’m not in love with houses. They break, they smell bad. Some of them. One of my apprentices yesterday in San Antonio, he’s buying a house that has 70 cats in it. And I can’t imagine how bad that is, but you know, at the end of the day, marketing comes down to two different avenues. We can do sweat marketing, or we can do paid marketing. Man. When I started, I didn’t have any money. So I had to do the sweat marketing side of things. And so the examples of that would be, you know, putting out bandit signs, you know, although you’re paying for the sign, what I would do is I would put them out Friday night and pull them up early Monday morning.

Brad Smotherman (12:13): And so a hundred signs, a couple of hundred bucks would last me three or four months, right? So that’s more of a sweat technique as opposed to leaving them out. Another one that were having a lot of success with is actually networking with wholesalers because wholesalers are slave to the 70% rule. We’re able to go in and do deals that they can’t do, right? Because we buy creatively as opposed to just throwing cash offers around all over the place. Right? So I’ve got an apprentice in Texas. He’s done three transactions this month, where wholesalers are bringing him the deal. You know, one of them is at a 0% owner finance rate. Now why a wholesaler would want to make a $5,000 assignment fee on a deal where we’ve got like four years and this thing is going to be paid off and we’ve got an $80,000 note on it.

Brad Smotherman (12:55): I don’t really understand. Okay. So that’s a couple of options in terms of sweat marketing. What I hope for people is that they understand that marketing is an investment. It’s not a cost. So effective marketing should at a minimum of 25 X. So if you’re spending a thousand dollars in effective marketing per month, you should over time buy at $25,000 per month in equity. Right? As an average. Now, what I hope for people is that if you have to start with the sweat side, that you go to the paid marketing side, as soon as you can. Okay? So in my world, the best paid marketing that we can do is Pay-per-Click so being there on Google ads, whenever they’re there, like people are searching for us. Searching, sell my house fast, or companies that buy houses. We want to be there. When people have already realized that they have a problem and we can be there to offer a solution, but it has to be done very well. I know a lot of people that have lost a lot of money when it comes to doing Pay-per-Click campaigns, because they don’t understand how to drive traffic number one, and how to create conversion. Once someone is, has landed on a page number two, but those are examples of sweat marketing paid marketing that we use in our business.

Jay Conner (13:57): Excellent! So as we know, and most of our audience here knows. When talking to an off market seller, a person that owns a single family house, you know, they don’t have it in the multiple listing service. They have some type of motivation. Most of these people are going to be anticipating when you’re starting that conversation with them of you buying their house. Most of these people like 99% of them are more having their mind that, well, if I sell my house, I’m going to get all the money, right? I mean, it’s like, that’s the traditional way. I sell a house, I get all the money. But now, you come along and you are going to be talking to them about creative selling or them becoming the bank. Or there’s a note and they’re going to get payments. What are your secrets? And as our friend Eddie would say, talk off points. Well, what are you, what are your secrets or scraping that takes a person that’s never considered selling on terms and waiting for all their money over time, from the point of then expecting to get all the cash up front?

Brad Smotherman (15:06): That’s a great question. And what I would submit to you is the first thing that we can’t do is make offers. So in my world, I really feel like an offer is a commodity to shop. And I can’t even begin to tell you how many houses that we’ve gone in and bought because, you know, two or three other investors had gone in and left an offer behind for them to think about. And then we come in because we won’t give them our price. They’re giving us a price. We’re making sure that that’s the least that they will take. And then we’re going to switch it to terms. So let’s say that someone says, well, and we talk about things in terms of cash at closing. So if somebody owes a hundred thousand dollars and they want to sell the property for 115, then I’m going to switch it and say, well, so your cash at closing is $15,000.

Brad Smotherman (15:48): So assuming that they would sell to me for that $15,000 cash at closing, then I’m going to say, well, you know, I can do that. If we can do it another way, and this is how we can make it work. So I’ve never given them a price and they’ve given me the price. So I mean, what we’ve done there is we’ve made it very difficult for them at that point to really begin to pull back and think about it because we’re giving them their number. We never give a price ever. Now, Jay, there’s some times that we do pay cash for properties, we just bought one outside of Huntsville, Alabama, about a month ago that the people had paid $160,000 cash for it in 2012, we paid 15,000 for it. And, you know, it’s like at that price, I don’t really feel the need to negotiate terms.

Brad Smotherman (16:29): You know, it’s like, we’ll just pay the 15K. And I thought about it. It kinda hurt my feelings to not get 0% owner financing on that 15. But I was like, you know, they need the money. They need the 15 grand we’ll just go ahead and pay it. But the short answer is I think the real skill is to, to be able to negotiate with people, without giving them a price, giving them an offer. I feel like if you give an offer, it’s a commodity, a commodity for them to shop. I also think it’s kind of acrimonious. People feel like they’re good negotiators because somebody can say, well, I want $200,000 from our house. And you can say, well, how does a hundred thousand sound? I don’t think that’s negotiation at all. I think that’s horse trading. And like my family came from the agriculture world.

Brad Smotherman (17:09): So, I mean, we were pig farmers. I mean, and I saw that growing up all the time, you know, that doesn’t work for houses as well. Like if we can make people realize that we’re not there to take advantage, if we can make the number work, then we will make it work. But there’s equity. There’s two types of equity. There’s equity at price and equity in terms. So if we can create equity in terms, a lot of times that’s a better equity position for us to have as a longterm play, as opposed to just like really working in the 70%. If that makes sense.

Jay Conner (17:37): Do you ever offer or give multiple offers or multiple strategies of saying, okay, if you want your price, we can do it this way. If you’ve got to have all cash, we can do it this way. And if you want a third option, we can do it this way. Or do you, most of the time stay with say the the terms negotiation and conversation?

Brad Smotherman (18:02): And that’s a great question. So we don’t do like the three offer strategy of like, we can do it this way, this way, or this way, this way, because what I’ve found, at least in my own personal experiences that I had people say, well, I want this price with that term.

Jay Conner (18:14): They want to pick and choose the way they want it.

Brad Smotherman (18:18): Yeah. It was like, we’ll take this closing date. We’ll take that price with those terms. It’s like, well, that’s not really how it works. What I’ll say to that is it’s really common for us to, to bounce back and forth between price and terms. So if someone says, okay, this is the price that we want, they’ll say, well, if you want it like that, here’s how we can make that work. And they said, well, that doesn’t work for us. And then we’ll go back and say, well, is that price the least you would take? And so we start talking about pricing in. And I’ve had situations where we have to kind of go back and forth three or four times before we land somewhere. And it’s generally somewhere kind of in the middle that we find that people will work within kind of the median based on what they’re hoping for. You know, if we can substantiate pricing and values and costs to where we can show like, Hey, these are the numbers that you’re working with. Like, this is the value. This is the cost to get it there. Here’s my breakeven number. You know, what are you hoping for your cash at closing people generally tend to be a little bit more reasonable if we can substantiate why they should accept a lower price and what they were hoping for.

Jay Conner (19:15): When you have someone that is agreeable or at least open. They’re open to the idea Terms and, you know, taking payments or equity over time or whatever. Do you, in your, in your conversation, do you tell them how long or how long the term of the note would be? Or do you ask them what’s the longest they could go? Or how do you get to that agreeable length of the note?

Brad Smotherman (19:51): Yeah. So what we talk about is in terms of some now and some later, so we’re going to talk about it and say, okay, how much cash do you need at closing to make it work? And they’ll give us a number and we’ll kind of negotiate that. It’s like, okay, if I can get you X at closing, then how soon were you hoping to get, no, we do it this way. We can either do payments every month, like an annuity or retirement plan, or we can do a lump sum in the future, which were you hoping for? Generally, people kind of gravitate towards the payments per month. But the thing that we never mentioned is interest. Okay. We never really talk about terms. We’re going to talk about it in terms of, you know, $20,000 at closing and $500 per month until paid.

Brad Smotherman (20:27): And so people are kind of looking at that and saying, especially if they’re a landlord. Guys, if you’re, if you’re dealing with a landlord that has free and clear property and they’re tired landlord, you should absolutely be able to negotiate owner financing because these people are open to receiving payments. That’s what they bought the property for in the first place. Well, if we can just kind of segment it to being like, well, how much do you need at closing? What would you like a lump sum in the future? Or would you like monthly payments? Generally, they’re going to say, well, I’d love monthly payments and we can negotiate something, but we never really talk about it in terms of, well, it’s a 10 year loan and here’s the rate we never mentioned. Certainly we’d never mentioned interest. We don’t really ever talk about the term as well.

Jay Conner (21:03): So you would agree that most of the terms that you structure are payments with no interests?

Brad Smotherman (21:10): Correct. A hundred percent. I’ve only paid interest twice on owner finance deals. And both of those were properties I wanted. They were both lake properties and I was like, I’ve gotta have this. I think I paid a 3% rate on one and four and a half on the others.

Jay Conner (21:24): I love it! I love it! Well, Brad, now let’s really change gears from the owner financing thing and the term thing to this world that you’re in of investing remotely. My lands! You are in, you’ve invested in 15 States. You invest from Michigan to Georgia. And when I asked you a question that could take you three days to answer, but you got about three minutes instead.

Brad Smotherman (21:55): We’ll work with that.

Jay Conner (21:55): But how in the world do you invest remotely in 15 different States? And we know what, we know everybody’s concerns are. I mean, how do you find those deals, you know, out there in a different state, what’s your boots on the ground? How do you make sure you’re not being taken to the cleaners? How do you manage all that stuff remotely? And you know, my land! You can’t drive by it and see what’s happening to the property. I mean, what does that world look like?

Brad Smotherman (22:24): Yeah. And you’re right. That would be about a three hour answer. But to put it into three minutes, the first fundamental that we have to understand is that the farther away we are from our own personal market, the cheaper the property must be. So we have to have a higher discount. Now, I’ll buy something at 60 cents on the dollar cash in my backyard, but I’m definitely not going to do that, you know two States away, right. So we have to have a greater discount because you’re a hundred percent, right. We’re going to have issues that we don’t expect right now. We don’t have, you know, a large amount of like workforce that can help us in these deals generally. Right. So what we’re going to do is we market to areas that we like, okay. And because we’re marketing in big geographic areas, our lead cost is actually quite a bit lower.

Brad Smotherman (23:12): It’s substantially lower. So we can do one of two things. We can either have a lower ad budget, or we can keep our ad budget the same and have maybe three or four times a lead flow. Okay. So let’s just say we have four times the lead flow. Well, what that means is that, that deal that comes around twice a year, three times a year is going to happen for me roughly every two months. Or, you know, the deal that happens every four months is going to happen for me every month. So I can be a little bit more picky based on what I’m looking at. And so in terms of the value, the decisions are very easy, actually. So I mean, case in point, we just bought one in Montgomery, Alabama. The property had a comp across the street that sold in in February for 76,000, we bought this one for 13, so we have it under contract.

Brad Smotherman (23:59): And so once we have an under contract, we go into due diligence. So the first thing we’re going to look at is value. So what is the value based on what we expect right now? So we feel like roughly this thing’s worth $75,000 and I can probably owner finance it for 89 or maybe 99,000 with a 10K down payment. You know, at a minimum 10K. So with that, we’re gonna talk to two or three brokers in that market, real estate agents that are gonna give us CMAs. Give us an idea of value. And then we’re going to then once the value looks okay, we’re going to switch to condition. So we’re going to get actually a home inspection on this property. Okay guys, once we have three different CMAs from agents and they all kind of make sense for one another, like there’s congruency in those three CMAs, and then we go and we get the home inspection, we’re going to know really everything that we need to know in terms of that property, especially with the discounts that we’re buying.

Brad Smotherman (24:48): So, I mean, the question being is that a little bit more risky than buying it around backyard? It certainly is. Whenever, if you were paying dollar for dollar the same amount, but if you’re paying 60 cents in your own backyard or 20 cents in another state, then I would ask you, well, which is more risky at that point. Okay. So short answer, we’re going to get things under contract that we feel pretty comfortable with. Then we’re going to verify and find the facts that we know and what we don’t know. At that point, we’re going to make a final decision. Sometimes we have to renegotiate price most of the time we don’t, because it’s just such a severe discount on the front end. And I mean, in terms of management, the thing is that we’re owner financing most of these, almost all. And so if we’re owner financing things, we’re serving the least served in the most underserved buyer pool in the country.

Brad Smotherman (25:32): There’s a lot of people that need owner financing. And since March, this is what I heard from Eddie Speed yesterday. And Jay, I know, you know, Eddie. So he said that if a hundred people could get a mortgage in March before this COVID thing hit, then right now there’s 64 people that can get a mortgage that’s left out of those hundred. Well, what happened to those other 36 people? Did they just decide not to buy? Well, no, they need owner financing at this point. So we’re serving a very needed, a very underserved buyer pool that needs owner financing. So sell the house with owner financing, create the note. I don’t want ownership and property. I feel like property is liability. We want to own the paper. Okay. So we create owner financing. So the house owner financing to have a longterm cash flowing asset. And in a nutshell, that’s how we buy remotely.

Jay Conner (26:18): To what extent do you buy houses remotely with owner financing? To what extent is, are you comfortable with the amount of repairs or rehabbing involved?

Brad Smotherman (26:33): Yeah. I mean, we’re not going to rehab anything. So if the property means that the grass cut, somebody better go cut the grass because we’re going to buy it. We’re going to sell it as is, you know, the best example that I have with this. I had a house that I bought for $2,000 one time. And now I don’t understand why people do what they do sometimes. Jay, I know that doesn’t resonate with you. I’m sure that you’ve never seen anything that didn’t make sense. But for me, I see a lot of things that don’t make sense in my world. And this lady sold me the house for $2,000 and she had just done new vinyl and new windows on the exterior. They surely looked great, but she said, I don’t want you to go in the house because I’m afraid you won’t buy it.

Brad Smotherman (27:07): This was maybe six or seven years ago. And I’m actually going to look at houses. I said, well, respectfully, I have to go look at, you know, I have to go inside. And so this lady, the roof look kind of bad, but I didn’t realize how bad the roof was. She did new vinyl, new windows. She didn’t do the roof. And so water had been pouring into this house for like four or five years. And so like, literally the back half of this thing was gone. I mean, it was like molded. It was soft, the subfloor, you couldn’t stand in the kitchen, all this, it was a mess! But we sold it with owner financing. As is! Like, I’m not going to do that kind of construction. I’m not a construction guy. Literally I had to come over. I had to have a handyman come to my house and replace the doorknobs because I don’t know how to do any of that stuff. So like, I’m terrible.

Jay Conner (27:46): You and I have something else in common, my friend!

Brad Smotherman (27:49): Glad to hear that, man! I think we’re like kindered souls just, probably not from the same parents, just generationally, but you know what I’m saying? We’re cut from the same cloth.

Jay Conner (28:00): A brother from another mother.

Brad Smotherman (28:04): For sure.

Jay Conner (28:07): So you’re not gonna do any, you’re not gonna do any major rehabs. I get it. So my lands! How do you find, so are you finding most of these deals remotely in other States? Again, as you mentioned using Pay-Per-Click. Google Pay-per-Click.

Brad Smotherman (28:25): A hundred percent. So, I mean, these are people that are actively searching to solve a problem and we’re there when they need to be.

Jay Conner (28:30): I love it when people are looking for me and I’m not looking for them.

Brad Smotherman (28:34): Big difference because people don’t understand the difference in the negotiation structure. So, I mean, if I’m contacting someone to sell me something, versus someone contacting me to buy something, that’s a huge difference in the frame of negotiation. And so we always want to be where someone is searching for us. If we can be, of course, there’s always exceptions. You know, like anything works some of the times. So we can do the text, we can do the direct mail. I used to do 70,000 direct mailers a month. I don’t do any of that anymore because it comes down to, I don’t want to contact someone to sell something. I want people contacting me to buy something.

Jay Conner (29:08): Final question, Brad. At least almost final question I have to, I have to precursor that. So we know how you’re finding these deals. You got all these people that need owner financing. They don’t know there’s a way. So how in the world do you get the word out to all these people that you’ve got owner-financed terms available? How do you find the buyers?

Brad Smotherman (29:29): And that’s a great question. So our big three are Craigslist, Facebook marketplace, and then putting yard signs out that say owner financing. And so…

Jay Conner (29:38): My number one on a, so I sell, I don’t do owner financing out here in this market. That’s another conversation. I do a lot of rent to own. I love your model. Regardless. It’s the same buyer, whether they’re buying owner financing or they’re buying rent to own. But with that, Facebook marketplace, hands down. Is my best lead source for finding these owner finance buyers.

Brad Smotherman (30:04): Yeah. It’s really amazing. I’ve got a, I’d say she’s at least half time and probably closer to three quarter time. And the poor girl, she probably has carpal tunnel by now because like you post a house for sale with owner financing and all of these buy-sell-trade groups. And like, you can see like the computer almost begin to melt because it’s overheating from all the people responding. And it makes sense. I mean, it’s really common in a market. So I’m in Nashville, Tennessee. The last time I checked, there were 2,700 houses on the market on the MLS to service everyone that could get mortgage financing. Well, there were three that were offered with owner financing and they were mine. And so it’s like, if that’s the case, you can see the disparity in the supply demand curve. You have a huge group of demand for very, very little inventory. And so selling the houses never really been a problem.

Jay Conner (30:53): I love it! Brad, I know my audience wants to stay connected with you. How can they stay connected with Brad Smotherman?

Brad Smotherman (31:00): Yeah. So for those that are interested more on owner financing and what we do, then you can listen to my podcast, Investor Creator, on iTunes and the various other platforms. And if anybody wants to reach out to me directly, feel free to do so. At http://BradSmotherman.com

Jay Conner (31:13): That’s awesome, Brad! It’s so great to have you here on the show, Brad, I really enjoyed our conversation. I know the audience did as well. And so let me give it to you for parting comments and final advice.

Brad Smotherman (31:26): You know, the thing that I want to say to people is, always would try to instill the amount of hope that I can, you know, I think a lot of people want to do this business and they have a lot of fear. And I remember how that was in 2010 when I started, because you know, I started in the brokerage business. I was a realtor and not a super successful one at that. I made a living, but you know, whenever I decided to be an investor, I thought, gosh, like nobody’s going to leave a loan in place. Nobody’s going to sell out a discount. Nobody’s, you know, and it’s the same thing that I’ve heard, you know, and here’s kind of like the hierarchy of beliefs that fell down for me. I thought nobody would leave alone in place. Well, that happened.

Brad Smotherman (32:01): And then I thought, well, nobody’s going to sell at 50 cents on the dollar. And then that happened. And then I thought, well, nobody’s going to give me 0% owner financing. And then that happened. And then I thought, well, all of this is because we’re that good in person. We can’t do it on the phone. And then we started buying all of those on the phone. And so at the end of the day, I mean, this business works. It’s an amazing business. It changes lives. And if you feel compelled, you have a passion for the business and you have a passion to help people with their problems and you can do very well in this business. Stay with it.

Jay Conner (32:28): That’s awesome! Brad, thank you so much. And thank you! My audience for tuning in. It’s always great to have you here. And I know you found this episode very valuable. I’m Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority. Wishing you all the best and here is to taking your real estate investing business to the next level. And I’ll see you on the next show. Bye for now!

[newbornwhumperfly]

all i know is you’re the nicest thing

CW: references to past non-con, dissociation, panic attack, references to victim-blaming.    

a spinoff gift fic of @haro-whumps brilliant, heart-wrenching group whump series. this is based on some headcanons we’ve exchanged. i hope you like it, haro!!!                                                 

Snow is thick on the ground and Galo is going stir-crazy.

He hasn’t been able to run around the mansion for a week now. While it was kind of a fun challenge to wrestle through the drifts when they were ankle-high, it’s now impossible while keeping good form. Per usual, he’s been visiting the gym regularly but that’s come to a stop with the week before Christmas, depriving Galo of even this pressure-release. He still lifts weights, pushes and pullups until his arms tremble but he’s pushed himself as far as he can without burning out. Video games always exist, obviously.

What’s really funny, Galo thinks sourly, plucking a thread loose in his coverlet, is how a little cold weather makes you realize how isolated you are. Sure, he’d never really cared for Christmas. Correction: he kinda hated it. Aside from the fact that he’s decidedly not religious, the holiday was always bound up with baggage. Being made to wear festive, uncomfortable dresses to seemingly infinite parties full of infinitely shallow, shitty guests tripping over themselves and one another to flaunt how well they were doing. 

Ever since he’s gotten his own place, Galo never bothered with his own celebrations. No SO, no super close buddies to chill with, no way in hell he’s gonna make plans with anyone in his family. Outside of the occasional Christmas party at work and its flimsy temptation of free dessert and sparkly booze, he hasn’t bothered.

Now though…

Galo worries his lower lip as he sips the smoothie Sasha made for him. There’s a sprig of holly on the rim and it makes him grin. The timid woman has blended his breakfast for the past seven months and he’s come to lean on the reliability of it, the way that Sasha assembles the ingredients just so, drawing out a fresh deliciousness he’s never managed to coax from the mixture. She’s really damn good with food and he remembers to tell her so whenever the opportunity arises. It never fails to soften her.

Now he has people to take care of. Well, ok, they’re not children. But sometimes Galo feels that way, as guilty as it makes him. They’ve learned helplessness well, as they were trained to. As it was beaten into them over years and years, until they were broken, stitched back together with brutal routine. He grips his cup, fingers flexing in rage. Aunt Bethany may be cold in her grave but Galo’s anger refuses to cool, needing only a flinch or stammer or any unbidden reminder of the abuse to stoke that fury. The many weeks Galo has lived with these traumatized slaves has only peeled back fresh layers to the nightmare, all of it fuel to the simmering heat that lurks below his skin. He said he wasn’t religious but he really hopes hell is real.

Galo threads his fingers through his tuft of hair, yanking firmly to shake that train of thought off its runaway track. Now he can’t even work out until the burn of adrenaline smothers the hateful heat in his veins, he needs a new distraction other than his guild or fucking video games he’s played a hundred times before. The charity places he fills his spare hours with are all closed too, the heavy snowfall blocking most of the volunteers from service. He really is gonna go crazy, stuck for long, quiet hours in this sprawling estate with only his slaves for company. Who can’t leave and will all probably feed off his tension until they’re all an accidental frown away from a breakdown.

Fuck.

Bethany is gone but her horrors haunt this house, the ghosts waiting to strike in every corner.

Galo wonders if these guys celebrate the holidays at all. None of them can buy eachother anything, duh, but they’d probably made do? He doesn’t really have any clue what slaves would do on holidays but it’s probably none of his goddamn business. If he had to venture a guess, they probably did something special together after Bethany fell asleep. Or who knows? Maybe Christmas had shittier associations for them than even he had. That assumption was probably depressingly accurate. They were clearly devoted to this little unit of theirs and had probably found some way to make the day nice for one another.

And Galo had the nerveto feel stymied. He groaned as he threw an arm over sore eyes, blocking out the gaming livestream he was listlessly tracking on his laptop. He sure as hell wasn’t throwing a party in this gothic funhouse, most likely the first time in the group’s memory that they didn’t have to arrange an event. He was sitting pretty on millions of dollars, bemoaning his loneliness on a holiday he didn’t even celebrate in the first place.

He’s sure that the poor bunch downstairs could only dream of getting good things like he could get for himself anytime he wanted.

Oh.

Galo sprung up from his lazy sprawl against the headboard, an idea flaring up, getting brighter and warmer the more he thought on it.

This…this could be a good idea.

Could be being the operative word here, Galo determines, clicking away from the livestream to open a new search page as he reaches for his notebook and begins to flip through the pages of observations. He pauses, massaging his eyes as he considers his options. He’d have to be verycareful with this one; if he’s gonna do this, he needs to do it right or not at all. It might be a big fucking mistake, with the potential for backsliding practically a minefield under Galo’s still-balancing feet.

But it has been months. Dozens of days had crawled by without incident and he’s got wiggle room when it comes to potential fuck-ups – the last triggering incident was over two months ago and it had nothing to do with Galo’s actions. He figures he is safe for now. But, then again, he might never be safe when it comes these people – or rather, they might never feel safe with him, he acknowledges, heart panging sharply at the thought. Is it worth the risk, disturbing the fragile balance he’d so painstakingly built over the stretch of time?

Galo sighs, trying to release his tension the breath as he rubs his temple, ruffling the buzz of hair distractedly. It might be selfish, but he wants – desperately – to make them happy. To do something for them all other than just stay out of their way. There’s always the risk, in anything he says or does or doesn’t say or doesn’t do, that he will hurt them without even knowing it and it hurts. One thing he knows for sure is that he’s never been that person to resign themselves to doing nothing. Nothing is written in stone – if he has the heart and the care, he can do what he puts his mind to.

Sucking air into his lungs in one big, fortifying whoosh, Galo squares his stiff shoulders and starts typing suggestions into his search bar. He’ll start with Greyson, since his choices are easier, and then work his way down the list. He’s got less than a week and if he can do this right, and he needs – he reallyneeds – to get this one right, then they’ll be happier. And that’s all that really matters in the end. These people have never expected kindness outside of one another for their entire lives and Bethany had built the world in their minds in her image, a world of casual cruelty.

Well, it’s about the time to change that, and if Christmas is supposed to be a time of rebirth or whatever, Galo will exorcise his aunt’s presence with the ass-whooping spirit of the motherfucking season.

                                                        ~          ~                              

Master Galo has been…animated.

Galo is almost always cheerful, at least in their presence, but the past week has thrown the man into a state of nervous energy. It isn’t…bad, as far as Greyson can pinpoint. There is an excitement which hovers around him but there is tension too. He’s been muttering under his breath a great deal, mumbling to himself in a distracted, half-aware manner as he has tended to do when he has a lot on his plate. He has been glued to his laptop a great deal as well, tending to pace with it as he wanders on socked feet between his usual haunts. Most hours, he drifts from one room to another, sometimes shutting himself into a room to make a call, sometimes contemplating something on the screen in long pauses, biting his lip, brow scrunched in focus.

Greyson has warned the rest to take care and not distract Master Galo, as he is prone to bumping into doorframes or nearly tripping as he turns about to set the device down and scribble swiftly in that bulky notebook that he carries in his pants pocket everywhere he goes. Whatever Master Galo’s true mood, Greyson knows it would not do to disturb his patterns of distraction. It has already been tense downstairs, what with Master trapped inside due to the harsh weather and lack of exercise routine. A bored Master is dangerous. His full attention could be easily caught by anything (or anyone) who got in his way right now.

And he cannot help but notice, even though he should not notice, as it is none of his business, that Master Galo keeps the screen darker than usual when he carries it around and he always closes it when Greyson or one of the others approaches. He does the same with the notebook but there is almost a caution to the movement when Galo notices he is being observed or approached, snapping the device shut and looking for a moment almost like a guilty child caught sneaking a treat. Greyson does notwant to think about what that means. He will find out soon enough, he suspects.  

So for almost a week, as Christmas Eve crept closer through the soft, white hours, passing too slowly and yet too fast, Greyson watched and waited for something to happen.

                                                           ~          ~                           

Nyla has brought several packages up to Master Galo’s room in the past week.

In the past, she wouldn’t take too much note of this. Mistress had had everything delivered to her once her knees got too bad to go out shopping anymore and she had always given Nyla’s own knees a good whack with her cane when Nyla brought her the latest purchase.

Now, however, it is unusual now and unusual is always bad. Master Galo doesn’t tend to buy things for himself, besides the occasional video game or set of clothes that he often chooses to drive out and pick up in person. Now, he has eagerly grabbed each new package from her, a pleased, giddy grin on his face every time. She doesn’t know what it means but she has noticed Master’s hyperactivity and knows that Greyson is concerned. When she allows herself to dwell on it, it concerns her too.

Master’s behavior might not be bad (yet) but Nyla certainly isn’t going to call it good. Master Galo insisted he wants Christmas to be uneventful and while Nyla would typically be beyond grateful for such a reprieve, her anxiety worsens with the lack of planning to busy her worried mind. Nevertheless, she pours the fretful energy into perfecting what she can. She can always be perfect. Nyla assures herself of this constant as she polishes and re-polishes, scrubs and sharpens and floats like a dust mote through the halls, quivering at the ready for Master’s beck and call.

Her headaches are beginning again. The season ushers them in without fail, sharp heat coiling down her neck, her jaw, up through her temples and between the eyes, at times so stabbing that she nearly staggers from the anguish. She doesn’t though, despite being uncommonly tempted to grimace against the cruel pale glare of winter sun through every window. Putting it out of her mind, she glides quietly in rooms near Master Galo. 

Adjusting this, that was already straight. 

Wiping this, that was already spotless. 

She scrubs at a wood-stain on the balcony for the sake of scrubbing, letting the tingling cramps in her overworked wrists and sore knees distract her from the pain in her head. How much her jaw felt like it was trying to escape from her face, how much her neck seemed trying to twist off from the rest of the spine, and the constantpressure, the throbbing patch of nose, eyes, brow clamped with a spiked vice.

Mercifully, dusk was coming swiftly at the heels of the noon, the quickly dimming sky beckoning in Christmas Eve. Nyla has told Greyson to be ready with the car in case Master should want to go somewhere at the last minute. Lilah has kept the driveway shoveled with Evan’s help, bless them both, and salted. Sasha putters about the kitchen, busy with nothing as she travels in slow circles like a crumb circling the drain. They all feel it. They are all waiting. Master has been locked in his bedroom all day and most of yesterday, doing…something. Other than an occasional soft curse, Nyla has heard little when she passes (pauses, lingers, eavesdrops) by his door. She doesn’t think about what might be coming, what could be about to descend upon them swifter than the evening, better to lose herself in little meaningless labors.

Her focus thankfully helps her avoid a start when Master Galo flings his bedroom door open and pokes his head out, glancing about until his eyes catch Nyla, already risen from her futile polishing to a poised, submissive, smiling stance.

Perfect. She is perfect.

“Oh! Hey, Nyla, good – you’re exactly who I wanted. Um, is everyone…busy right now?”

Nyla parses the question. Everyone should be busy. That seems to be the right answer.

“Yes, Master Galo. Is there anything you require?”

Master didn’t seem outwardly displeased by her answer so she let herself breathe into his reply.

“Awesome. Yeah, actually. Why don’t you tell everyone to finish up whatever they’re doing? If it’s not finished, it can wait till later. After that, can you tell everyone that I wanna see them, and you too, in the living room? I’ve got some…gif-, uh, good surprises for everyone.”

Nyla can’t breathe in. She has breathed out already and can’t breathe back in. She needs to breathe in. Needs to speak.

Surprises.

For everyone.

Oh god. 

Oh please.

Breathe.

She’s missed his words, muffled, underwater, swimming through too-thick air, no sound.

You need to breathe.

You need to listen.

Listen!

Air thins around the words and they make it to Nyla’s ears.

“-holiday spirit and, uh, yeah. It’s my festive mood coming out I guess. Don’t wanna give it away, you’ll all see the surprises in a moment anyway! But, yep, a few minutes? That good?”

Breathe.

She’s still smiling. She can feel it. She can feel her face, her mouth, her hands clasped in front of her. She can’t feel her lungs for some reason.

She blinks.

Nods.

She’s answered Master, right? God, please, has she answered Master’s question?

She must have. She must have. She must have answered correctly because he is grinning and nodding and thank holy god he isn’t really looking straight at her, rubbing his neck in that strange way he does sometimes. She must have answered him because he hasn’t gotten angry and he’s closing the door and she couldn’t have made it worse and she can’t make it worse and she’s perfect and she-

Perfect.

The word is like a splash of cold water and Nyla remembers how to inhale, knees buckling briefly with the dizziness of no air, catching herself on the balcony as the head-neck-spine-wrist-knee pain floods through her awareness, riding in on the icy wave of fear.

Surprises.

For everyone.

Perfect.

Enough. Nyla flicks her tender wrist with sharp, punishing taps until her limbs unfreeze. The moment she trusts her legs to carry her, she scoops up her cleaning supplies and lets her body take over. Drift gently down the stairs to inform the others. Obey. Guide the others.

Be perfect.

                                                           ~          ~                           

It’s about fucking time.

Evan allows himself to savor this small prick of resentment on his swift walk to the living room, following only a minute behind Greyson, who’d tersely passed along the command.

Huffing harshly through his nose, he lets the tic in his jaw relax into his required, submissive blank while he tucks the flyaway hairs at his neck and forehead back into his ponytail. He doesn’t give a damn, of course, how pretty he looks. It’s not like his Master is gonna fuck him…probably. Gifts are not good; Evan should know that by now. Should know better than anyone. His gut lurches oddly at the memory of clammy, clawed hands pawing and pulling and scraping and taking what they want. He hasn’t been eighteen in a while but the space of years makes no difference and he can still smell the stench of smoky, heaving gasps. He can still feel the confusion like a sticky sweat crawl through his limbs morphing into terror-rage-shame.

It’s just the scent-memory which summons nausea, nothing more. He just…hates the smell of ash on breath. Hates that it’s been months since he’s had hands on him, years since that was new, hates that the hands fill his dreams and make him wish he had no skin to touch at all. He scratches the ghostly caresses off in the shower and tries to be grateful, bitterly, that no new hands have replaced the phantoms. Master isn’t gonna fuck him, at least, not soon. He shouldn’t have any reason to care about “looking proper”.

But Nyla would care, Evan thinks, the months-old regret clenching like an invisible vice around his heart. He owes it her to still be good, to at least try to live up to her poise.

It’s this duty which lulls him as he glides, smooth and graceful as he can, into place behind Nyla in the living room. He notices how she and Greyson have put themselves at the front, forming a fragile wall in front of Lilah, who is quivering in place and hunching to make herself shorter. Sasha has placed herself at Lilah’s left, shoulder almost brushing her bowed head as she curls ever-so-slightly inward towards the teen. Evan has been left Lilah’s right to stand at, his tall form shielding her from the room’s entrance. All of this was Nyla’s doing, of course it was. She has ensured that Lilah will, at least, not be the first to endure what is to come, has given her time to brace herself.

Evan’s love and respect for Nyla soars and nearly overwhelms him for a moment as he tries mirroring her back-straight neck-long eyes-low hands-clasped-lightly posture. She had forgiven him a while ago though softening took far longer and he is grateful for the generosity of time when he hears her hum, barely audible, in approval.

It is the only sound other than crackle-rumble of the enormous wood-fire blazing high and hot and he glances to the side to see the orange shadows dance over Lilah’s face. The dull roar has drowned out her breathing, too loud, too uneven. She hasn’t gone Quiet yet and he wishes she could when the flames reflect tears threatening to spill from her eyes already. She’s trying very hard, he can tell. His sweet baby Lilah. His sweet baby girl. He wishes so badly he could hug her right now. He wishes Master wasn’t about to hurt her for no fucking reason.  

Stop it.

Those thoughts are dangerous territory and Evan will notlet himself ruin anything for everyone else. This isn’t about him. He needs to be perfect right now, for Nyla, for Lilah, for all of them. He owes them that much at the very least. It gets harder to keep his face flat, however, when Master practically strutsaround the corner.

In all the months he’s been here, Master has never looked so energized. He’s switched out his usual t-shirt and shorts for a casual suit, hair slicked, and when he strides to a halt in front of the Christmas tree, he’s almost bouncing on his heels. His hands keep clenching, unclenching, clenching with whatever jumpy giddiness that’s put that wide grin on his face. Whatever restraint has kept him tethered is loose now and it trembles through every line in his broad body.

Evan drops his gaze to the rug so he doesn’t have to look anymore, tracing the red-white-green stitching of embroidered wreaths below his shoes. He knew, he knewbetter than to trust Master Galo’s mood, so peppy, so eager, so cagey. Master’s gonna drop the act like a heavy fist down on their heads and Evan might almost be sickly satisfied if not for how a traitorous nausea is curling in his gut to swallow the rage, if not for how his whole family is trembling around him, if not for how he’d almost – almost – begun to wonder if Master was…different.

At least this stupid, stupid, stupidpunchline is about to be called. Cold comfort now with how chipper Master is, how he can barely contain himself with the sweet satisfaction of it all, to watch his slaves quiver on the cusp of long-awaited suffering. Evan just hopes its everything Master’s fucking dreamed of.

                                                     ~          ~                                      

Lilah is so confused that she wants to cry.

Usually, the tension would strain every muscle tight, fighting her mind that kept trying to Go Away, ‘cause it wasn’t time yet. She is about to cry, a little wetness escaping, wiped away quickly. She can’t cry yet, she can’t even cry yet ‘cause nothing even happenedyet and that’s bad. She can cry later. There’ll be plenty of time to cry, soon. Soon, will go Quiet and she won’t be worried about anything.  

She doesn’t understand.

It’s so stupid to be confused. This just…used to be so simple and it hasn’t been the same recently and…she doesn’t get it. Evan was right, of course Evan was right, he’s always been right about Mistress things. She should’ve trusted him more about Master. But…but he…

He seemed different.

She’s never been good at the games, not like everyone else. She’s stupid about the rules anyway, and there’s so much that the rest of them all understand so easily, that they’ve learned from so many years of being good. She should know that there will always be a game. There will always be a rule. A test.

But still. He really did seem like he might be different than Mistress. His games were so very different that Lilah would wonder if he had a game at all. That’s stupid. But she had a good reason to be! Master had always been kind to her. He’d always smiled at her, real big, and he said such nice things about her work! He gave her lots of rewards too. Lots of rest and new kinds of food and special tools to make her yard-work easier, even though Lilah had always done a good job without those things.

“It’ll help you as a thanks for being so good at everything”, Master had told, all his teeth showing.

She should’ve known that was a lie. It had to be. But she’d wantedso badly to believe it.

Master never got mad when she went Quiet – kind of sad, or what looked like sad, and watchful and worried. But never mad. He’d never get mad at Lilah, even though he’s been mad at the others, been mad at Evan, even though they’re all better at this. Good enough for years. Good enough, at least, to not be punished all the time, day and night, beaten into place ‘cause she always had to be reminded of how not-good she is.

Bad girl.

Why? She just wants to know why and wanting hurts. Her heart hurts. It’s not a scared-hurt. It’s a sad-hurt, heart sore and throbbing wildly. She feels sadder than scared and that’s new and stupid but…she really did think Master woulddo something bad when nobody has been really bad and now he isgoing to and…she just doesn’t know why. But he is. And he’s happyabout it. Evan would say it’s ‘cause Master enjoys it, that he enjoys playing with them the way he does. She should listen to Evan. Why doesn’t she listen? Why can’t she ever keep up?

‘Cause you’re a bad girl.

Master’s voice rings suddenly through the room, the noisewhere there was no noise pulling Lilah’s breath in a little too quickly and Sasha barely twitches at her side. Lilah swallows a whimper before it escapes her dry throat and just…listens to Master.

 Please, let him get it over with quickly,she begs to someone, anyone.

 Please let it be quick.

And, horribly, selfishly.

Please.

Let him choose someone else first.

                                                       ~          ~                                        

“Ok! First off, Merry Christmas Eve to everyone.”

A silence hovers briefly and Sasha stumbles to say “Merry Christmas, Master Galo” in sync with the rest of the group. Their chorus, fortunately, hides her stammer. Master has not seemed to mind her stumbling speech but right now? There’s no doubt it that every broken phrase would tally up in whatever pain is to be doled out now.  

“Thanks! So, you’re all probably a little confused by the lack of celebrations. I know my aunt had tons of parties but…that’s just not me. I don’t love parties at the best of times and I really don’t love Christmas. But I figured, hey, I can do the holiday my way and you’ve all been a big part of changing how I feel about it. Everyone’s been awesome about decorating the house beautifully and making things feel cheerful, so, thanks so much for that. I really appreciate it.”

There is another beat of silence before Nyla, sweet, sacrificing, perfect Nyla, glides forward a couple of steps, Greyson carefully sidestepping to fill the space in front of Lilah, and kneels at Master Galo’s feet before taking up his hand to kiss it.

“Thank you, Master, for your kindness. We are all honored to serve you in whatever manner you desire.”

Sasha thinks, for the first time in a while, of how starkly largehis hand is next to Nyla’s head. Cold sweat beads on her brow as she measures those palms as though examining them for the first time, how when Nyla’s lips touch the backs of Master’s fingers, the span of his knuckles bridges her brow from temple to temple. He could crushNyla’s face with a firm squeeze, shatter her delicate little nose with one heavy slap, how could Sasha everhave forgotten that, even for a moment?

And now, the little blonde woman is deliberately putting herself at those heavy feet, pulling that meaty hand towards her lovely face, flattering and appeasing, indicating that she has chosen to go first for whatever this is. She’s so brave. She’s so good. Sasha loves her so much and she wants to save her so badly. Sasha wants to curl around Nyla’s kneeling form until Nyla is hidden away by Sasha’s arms and back and she’s safe from the pain which frightens Sasha so much and which Nyla so plainly does not deserve. But she is petrified and spineless and would only make it worse.

Oh, Nyla.

Greyson.

Lilah.

Evan.

Me.

Don’t react poorly!

Sasha blinks furiously until her tears settle behind her lids, pulsing with restrained grief.  

Don’t make this worse than it’s already going to be.

                                                       ~          ~                                    

Greyson should’ve been the one to approach Master Galo first.

He has a…dialogue with Master and either way, he is older, more practiced, should be quicker to know what to do. But Nyla has caught onto being what she should be in half the time it took him and has thrown herself into the line of fire with her typical grace. It sickens Greyson that he was too slow and let her take the burden.

Currently, Master’s glee seems to have abated at Nyla’s gesture and, seemingly, was not replaced with rage. Yet. He blinks down at Nyla’s upturned, sweetly submissive, face and smiles softly at her. No smirk. No secretive glint in his eye. Nyla must have done the right thing, yet again. Master has yet to…use Nyla in that way but he clearly acknowledges the faultless state of her service and it softens him towards her.

“That’s…wonderful, Nyla. Very good! Hey, while you’re down there, can you help me pull these boxes out?”

Before Nyla has even crawled over to the bottom of the towering Christmas tree, Master has crouched beside her, scooping out brightly wrapped packages from below the swoop of the low-dangling branches and jangling the glittering ornaments. Brushing pine needles off his pants, Master piles them, gesturing Nyla to copy him, onto an armchair before swinging back towards them all to clap his hands decisively and grin once more.

“Alrighty, then. So! Nyla?”

“Yes, Master Galo?”

Soft, immediate, lilting.

“I guess since you’re, uh, right here, I’ll give you your gift first. Uh, can you hold your arms out, Nyla? This one’s a bit big.”

Greyson has barely time to blink before Master has practically dropped one of the largest packages, a box of wide, flat golden cardboard topped with plaid bows, into Nyla’s quickly outstretched arms.

What?

“Sorry! Sort of threw it at you, didn’t I? You can go back to the rest, Nyla. Greyson, you’re up, my man.”

What?

Greyson’s feet carry him forward, arms already extending, body reliably obedient even while his brain is lagging.

 “Here y–, oh, no need for both arms. Heh, sorry, dude, your gift’s not Nyla-big.”

What does that mean?

He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t need to understand, Greyson reminds himself harshly, he only needs to obey. So he remains blank, cups his palms as Master Galo places a little sleek black box, neatly bound in white ribbon, into Greyson’s palm. It is not professionally wrapped, Greyson absently notes, the tape was raggedly snapped off the dispenser and the bow is a bit crooked. He glides into place back at Nyla’s side, poised like emotionless pillars with their…gifts held stiffly in front of them as each person is called forth. Lilah, then Sasha, and, finally, Evan; all are handed a package, unique in size and decoration and received quietly and quickly before they are re-assembled as they were before, only now clinging to…

Most likely, the instruments of their imminent torture.

Or, as Master Galo is saying…

“Awesome. Alrighty, so, you’ve all got your gifts now. That’s good. You’ve probably noticed that they’re kind of sloppy. I wrapped them myself and…let’s just say, I wasn’t born to be a decorator. You’re just gonna have to live with it, heh. So…if you guys wanna sit down, like, on the couches or on the floor or, like, wherever you feel most comfortable opening your gifts? Just, uh, yeah. Everyone just go ahead and enjoy!”

All are silent and it is Nyla who folds elegantly to the floor and first begins to peel the wrapping back, small hands fluttering like butterflies as she unwinds the ribbon. Greyson folds alongside her, hesitating a brief moment as he catches Master’s eyes on his knees and then, slowly, sits on the ground and folds his ankles neatly in front of him. Master looks pleased when he sits this way rather than kneeling and Greyson’s jaw slightly slackens as he settles in beside Nyla. Her quick grace disguises her shaking to all but Greyson, whose arm touches her shoulder and absorbs her tremors. He leans, barely, against her, steadying her (and, honestly, himself as well) while he neatly disassembles his own package.

His box is the smallest, Greyson has noted, so he is the first to lift the lid and find…

A pair of glasses.

They are frameless at the bottom, rimmed in delicate wire that is stained redder than a ripe apple. It matches the hue of Greyson’s favored necktie. Spongy black nose pads and grips at the tips of the temples show how the eyewear would grip the face comfortably. Coiled beneath the neatly folded pair, clipped to the ends of each temple, is a fine chain, dozens of miniscule links glittering silver beneath the clear lenses.

They are…beautiful.

Greyson cannot do much more than blink. He can tell that everyone else is unwrapping slowly, glancing from the corners of their lowered eyes at his reaction and he shouldreact in some way. But he…he can’t…

What?

He finds that he is trembling as he plucks the frames from their nest of silk cleaning cloths, cradling them like they will shatter if he breaths wrong. His eyes raise almost without intent, catching Master Galo openly watching him, a soft hesitance weighing his gaze. Greyson nearly starts but Master gets ahead of a potential apology by gesturing vaguely at Greyson’s gift.

“I, uh, I peeked through B –…through your records and found your prescription. It said five years ago and I don’t know if your eyes changed since then and, well, if I’d gotten an appointment for you, this wouldn’t have been a surprise. Someone recommended I make them a tad sharper and so I did but, if you wanna adjust them or if they’re too strong just tell me… Anyways, I, uh, I really hope they see as nice as they look, heh…oh, yeah, and the chain is to keep them around your neck and the cloths are yours. Like, in case that wasn’t clear, all the stuff in the box – hell, the boxif you want it – is all yours. But, I hope you enjoy them, Greyson.”

Greyson cannot speak. He opens his mouth, moves his lips, and nothing emerges. Trembling more pronounced now, his hands pull off and fold his glasses and tuck them into his breast pocket, he does not choose to do this. He does not decide to lift the new frames to his face, unfold them, slide them into place and loop the chain behind his neck. He blinks as his body reconnects with awareness again, the missed moments of automation causing him to startle bodily with the clean, unscratched, clarity of the room before him.

There is…something inside Greyson’s chest. It is like a living thing, pressing, stretching the wall of his sternum. It takes his heart and his lungs and squeezes, mercilessly.

It hurts. 

The animal is resurrected, awakened from a peaceful sleep to roar in his blood, unfamiliar with the way his insides are warm and loose and tingle like his legs after rising from hours on his knees, all the blood rushing back to the numb area. He feels and it aches and his throat is tightened by the same animal grip on his innards.

The tight, the hot, the blood-rush, the suddenness of the old tenderness is tearing at Greyson and, suddenly, all he wants to do is weep. No hollow, scraped-out loss prompting the swollen heat pounding like a pulse behind his lids. A press, inexorable as it is tender, against his sternum is cracking him from the inside and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He abandons his typical protocol of vacancy to bite his inner cheek savagely, allowing the throb to distract and dull the other strange unfamiliar anguish below his ribs.

It hurts but Greyson can take hurt. This anguish which is not anguish will be smothered too and once he allows the ache in his gnawed mouth to ebb, he is clearer again.

                                                        ~          ~                                        

Evan is pissed.

At least, he’s really trying to be. What he really feels, right now, is confused as hell. Which angers him more, ‘cause he can take his own pain and humiliation and the games that never ever end but this is, admittedly, pretty fucking weird.

He will, in his own mind, confess to being tense, if not really surprised, about his box being the biggest. But as he lifts his…gift out of its mountain of tissue paper, he can’t feel much of anything. It’s like his head is disconnected from his shoulders and his hands move on their own to unfurl a frankly enormous blanket, at least six feet in all directions, fluffy and hedgerow-green and thick and light all at the same time.

The first thing he registers is how soft it is.

He almost starts when he feels the texture of the blanket, fingers sinking into the tufts of…what is it? Evan doesn’t know, he’s never touched something this soft. He almost expects it to melt like soap-foam between his palms but it settles, barely a weight against his folded legs. It feels nice.

Evan snaps back to clarity, lowly roving a glance around to the others. They’ve all opened their own gifts and they’re all as confusing as Evan’s. They all look like gifts, but real gifts. The sort which Mistress’ “friends” would exchange during those god-awful parties. Sasha is cradling something bright and delicate in her hands, Nyla’s got something to wear perhaps, and Lilah’s unwrapping something fluffy. He can’t clearly see what Greyson got in that little box but he’s oddly silent.

Evan tries to stay sharp. He needs to be sharp, to be aware, nothing is more dangerous than getting distracted right now. Nothing is…good about getting a present. But he’s drawn like a throat to thirst by the softness in his lap and sets his jaw before cautiously lifting the blanket like a cape over his shoulders. Tufts tickle the nape of his neck, gentle bulk shielding his torso from the open air, and Evan feels more than allows his spine to relax just a fraction.

It feels so good. He likes it so much and he hates that he likes it as much as he does. Yet even as he straightens his spine and keeps his eyes down, he cannot help but turn his cheek just barely so that the tufts brush, feather-like, against the skin.

Liking this is fucking dangerous, of course it is, of course it is, it must be fucked up somehow. But Evan is tired of caring right no. And so leans further into the softness. Maybe he’ll pay later but if he really got this as a…giftthen he’s gonna damn well enjoy it like one.

                                                     ~          ~                                       

Nyla is stalling.

Yes, she’s offered herself first. Yes, she made a show of opening her package. But…she hesitates and keeps twitching away when she tries to peel back the mountain of red tissue. She smooths is back in layers, slippery as onionskin, crackling at even the littlest movement. She’s afraid of what she’s going to find and she has no excuse for her delay but that fear which keeps her fussing with the final sheet of tissue.

It is only once Greyson has lifted his gift out its box that she finally, unforgivably late, folds back the final barrier. It is in the same moment that Greyson’s gift becomes clear in her periphery, unmistakably a new pair of eyeglasses, when she comprehends what lies before her in the box.

A dress.

A dress?

It is a dress and it’s a pretty dress and it looks expensive and it’s a real gift and Nyla almost doubles over, spasming fingers gripping the edge of the box in an effort to remain grounded. She hides her tremble with busy movements, not really thinking but allowing her body to take over and carefully pull the dress from its crinkly nest.

Nyla knows little about clothing except from what Mistress Bethany and her guests wore but she knows what quality cloth feels like and this dress is certainly a cut of the finest. It has a supple, satiny feel but it isn’t silk, more like good linen in a soft blue imprinted with a pattern like white and grey stitching. It is crisp and flat and smells a little like vanilla when she moves it. Pleated skirt which could hit just below the knee, elbow-length sleeves, slimming waist. It has a wide neckline which doesn’t plunge to her breasts but instead would barely sit above the collarbones and sit halfway down the shoulder to show off their delicate swoop. It would show off the arc of her neck perfectly.

She would look so elegant in this dress, appearing so proper and almost fancy in a modest way. It is how she has dreamed of looking, sometimes, when she neatens her apron and flicks lint off her drab, black, uncomfortable uniform. In this dress, she would look as perfect as she behaves.

Absently, she strokes the along the mysterious fabric, wondering what it would feel like against all of her flesh. She nearly shivers with pleasure at the very thought of sliding that material over her head, zipping it up nice and neat. She suppresses a second, cold, shiver when a gratitude rises, unbidden, at her presence amongst the rest of the group. Mistress Bethany had never forced any of them to strip more than a shirt in front of one another but…who knew what Master Galo might command? If they had been alone when Master Galo gave her this, she would certainly assume she was meant to unclothe and slip into her giftstraight away. Display it for him. Looking pretty in it for him.

Master has paid close attention to them all, that much is abundantly clear. Nyla glances to the side and sees how Sasha is mesmerized by her gift. It is some sort of hair ornament, a flat clip to bridge the top of the head, a glorious, darkly polished wood that had been carved with an inlay of golden roses. It won’t just hold back the cascade of ebony hair, it will brighten the wavy length which Sasha combs between her fingertips, which soothes her so. Which one would notice if one watched her for long enough. Sasha’s fingers fly between hair and the ornament, sunk fully back upon her heels as she turns the clip over in her fingers like it is glass, watching the firelight catch all the petals and vines of gold.

Sasha loves her hair. She loves her gift.

It is all gift, Nyla realizes. All of her clothes are a gift. Seeing properly enough to do tasks obediently, having glasses at all, is a gift. Everything they are allowed to have is already a gift, graciously given on strict conditions. Nyla can go without her gift – her clothes – at any time Master Galo desires.  

Nyla soothes her fluttering pulse with a low breath, stilling her hands so they won’t seize the fabric and scrunch that ironed hem. She is here, right now, with her family. She traces the pattern with her eyes, counting the facsimile of stitches on the bodice as she allows that thought to ease the edge of sudden anxiety. There is absolutelyno sense in torturing herself with scenarios like that, no sense at all. There was no need. Even…ifsuch an idea did come to Master Galo, Nyla would give him no reason to play it out. She was perfect, she had always been perfect, and she will continue to be perfect; it is the only thing she can control. Nobody will have any reason to hurt her. Oh, Master can hurt her, of course he can, but he won’t have a reason to do it.

She won’t evergive anyone a reason.

                                                        ~          ~                                   

Galo hears a giggle and the surprise causes him to glance up from the game he’s been pretending to play on his phone, sprawled on the armchair several feet away from the group.

Lilah has opened her gift. A little red winter hat, ear-flaps and all, topped with a cotton puff which Lilah is poking at. She has pressed a hand to her mouth but is still grinning through her fingers as she pokes and ruffles the little poofy ball on the hat, on the matching gloves, on the tassels of the matching scarf. Lilah has lost herself in an almost open delight, youth bubbling through her nerves as she bats at her gift. Her bruises have long faded, all the cuts pinked and flat with age, so her freckles are stark. The absence of wounds makes her look so much younger than her eighteen years and her glowing grin gives her a childish glow.

Tears well in his eyes and he has to press his knuckles against his lids as he tries to swallow back the ache in his throat.

“Thank you so much, Master Galo! Thank you!”

Galo hopes his eyes are clear as he glances up again and sees that Lilah is the one who spoke. The others are clearly carefully looking anywhere but at either Lilah or Galo and, to be honest, he’s a little shocked at what amounts to an outburst from Lilah. She is trembling violently but is also clutching her gift tightly to her chest, gazing at Galo with…gratitude, heavy as worship, in her eyes.

Her grins widely at her, his gesture seeming to brighten that gratitude to a feverish glow. It’s all too much for Galo all of a sudden and he has to look away again so the tears won’t betray him and leak down his face, hoping to God that his reply doesn’t sound too choked.

“You’re welcome, kiddo. I’m…really glad you like it.”

                           i’m gonna throw myself into a pit now! hope ya’ll liked it!

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Girl I Met on the Internet (Holy, Part 1.)

Series description: Your bestie Kim was a free-spirited person who wasn’t exactly concentrated on finding herself a partner. Yet one day, she recieves a phone number and this time, you didn’t want to keep the person on the other end hanging. And so, you text them, no matter who they are.

Part summary: A party was something unseen in Brownsville, for at least five years. You and your friends go there - and you get a hold on an unknown person’s number sent to your bestie by Stanley Barber.

A/N: I know that I’ve done this with Whatsapp series already but... This just seemed like a super-sweet idea for a closeted queer Sydney is. 

Tagging: x

Sydney’s tape: go fuck yourself

Series masterlist: H E R E

It was a wild evening. The kind of wild you knew you'll remember until the day you die. That was clear as day. Well, in the end, something like this happened once in every five years in Brownsville. What was happening, you might ask?

People puking on the toilets - some of them proceeded to do quite a variety of sexual activities in the said cabins. Drunk dudes were undressing, girls throwing their bras and/or panties (in the worse case) onto the stage. Everyone was dancing, yelling, laughing, and drinking more than they drank beforehand. Oh. And it was a concert. An indie band underground concert. Which naturally caught the attention of many youngsters living in the small town.

Naturally, everyone, there was drunk as fuck and when these said people weren't drunk, they were as high as a kite. Don't be silly - almost no-one there was over the age of 21. No, we're talking about high schoolers. Said reason was the main one for most of the parents not knowing that their children were out there, partying. The whole school was there in the underground club.

Your friend, Kim, managed to assemble the full party - you were there, your gay friend Aaron came, and on top, he brought his boyfriend with him. They disappeared for a while, leaving you and Kim and the bar to buy some beer. Naturally, you had a very vivid idea about what they were doing, but you just let the boys handle their business.

"So..." - You started quietly, looking around at all the young people. Not only your schoolmates were there, but also youngsters from the nearby towns had come there. - "You see some lucky person you like?" - At this question, Kim grinned and took another sip of her beer.

Kim was someone who didn't care about gender or relationships. She was mostly focused on having one night stands and God, she could afford it. She was, indeed, gorgeous in her way. And you were as pretty as she was, yet it wasn't in your nature to just... Approach people. For the most part, you were sure that you're into boys.

But many instances had shown you to never say never. For example, there was this so-called lesbian... Well, now, she was pregnant with a dude who was working in local 7/11, so she couldn't be such a lesbian she proclaimed to be just half a year ago, could she?

"What about you?" - Kim asked back without answering the initial question, sipping from her cup of beer while intensely looking at one chick on the dance floor who was breaking her pelvis while attempting to twerk. Or whatever she was doing.

"Nah. I'm far behind dudes for a while now. We don't wanna repeat the David thing which ended what... A month ago?" - Yeah. As you were shaking your head, there was a grin on your face. David was portraying the role of Mr. Perfect, to put it somehow. Well, in the end, he wasn't as perfect as he wanted you to believe. And when you realized how much of a fraud that person was, you brought the hell on him.

Yet as soon as Kim smirked, even more, you knew she's about to say something borderline controversial. - "Maybe you're searching in the wrong crowd? But who am I to judge." - You watched how her shoulders shrug as you rolled your eyes.

Kim wasn't as much help in the relationship advice department as you'd expect your best friend to be. Every time you've been whining about the escapades with boys, she looked you dead in the eyes, telling you to find yourself a girlfriend. To which, you usually rolled your eyes even harder, telling her that this side of things is her domain more than yours.

And again, she had a response to that - when you meet the person, there doesn't exist a thing like a gender. Sure, she was probably right, but you decided not to jump to conclusions. If you were about to live through some sort of a queer awakening, you wanted it to strike you just like that. You never talked to a girl to ask her out or whatever.

If it was about to happen, who would you be to stop it, right? But you weren't the person who would walk to meet it. So, for the last couple of years, it was Kim's mission to find you a girlfriend. And when you asked her why, she just answered that for a reason, she gets the queer vibes from you.

"Here are my favorite boys!" - Kim cried out as you both saw Aaron and his boyfriend making their way to you. They both looked relaxed as fuck, so that made you more or less sure about what these two were up to on the restrooms. Either they were doing the mentioned sexual activities or they were doing some drugs - and then doing something sexual. Aaron rose his hands above his head, straightening the football jacket on his shoulder just before he hugged one of your shoulders and one of Kim's shoulder. Kim sighed, leaning the back of her head into Aaron's broad shoulder.

"I have... This for you, miss Possible." - His fingers suddenly pulled a small paper from somewhere on his palm, handing Kim a piece of paper with a number written on it. This occurred rather frequently. For an unknown reason, guys neither girls never thought that Kim is an insufferable asshat. She was receiving numbers on pieces of paper now and then - well, she could decorate her whole room with the numbers. As usual, Kim took the paper and looked at Aaron, waiting for the story of this particular number. In the meantime, Aaron's boyfriend left you standing there, going for a cig outside. - "You won't believe this." - Aaron rose his eyebrow, shaking both of you with a childish smile. - "Stanley Barber gave me this number."

"Stan the Man is here? Why didn't you tell me earlier? He sure as hell has some good weed." - Kim widened her eyes, ready to go on a search for Stanley immediately. But Aaron was still holding her in one place, having a dead stare in his eyes. - "Hold your horses. To answer your question, yes, he has his joints with him. But this number belongs to one of his friends who was too shy to approach you. And in exchange for the weed, he wants you to text her." - Aaron explained simply.

Stanley Barber... How would you describe Stanley? You couldn't describe the boy. He was something completely out of this word. No, he and your group of friends weren't friends, but you weren't enemies either. You had more or less a neutral relationship. Sometimes you hung out around each other, sometimes you hadn't seen the boy in weeks. Well... At least you tried not to see him. Stanley himself was unmissable. This boy sometimes came stoned to school, wearing sunglasses and banging his head into walls left and right. His clothes were unmissable as well. Stan was just... Unmissable.

Yet, honestly, you never saw him with anyone who could be seen as a friend figure. Never fucking ever. There was a high probability that Stan was high once again. First and foremost - was this friend real? Second of all - was it a girl or a boy? As soon as you saw Kim's face, you knew she's not texting anyone - but for the first time, it struck you as wrong. Stanley was a cool dude for the most part. You could say that you technically liked the boy. When you realized how much weed he had already invested to keep the relationship on neutral, this was the smallest thing Kim could do.

"Not happening." - "Don't be a bitch." - Aaron rolled his eyes, sighing. - "Stanley gave you as much weed as a cow eats per month. This is nothing to repay him, huh? And... It can end in something fun for you." - The boy proposed and for once, you had to say that Aaron was right. - "Not happening, babe. Stanley's friend is just as weird as he is and I don't wanna do anything in common with that. But let's smoke some fucking pot!" - Kim put both her palms up the air, crying out cheerfully.

"You should text that person. Stan's cool for the most part." - You took Aaron's side in this not-even-an-argument. At that, Kim turned at you and put the small piece of paper into your palm. - "If you can't beat them, join them. I think I know how this would play out, so, now's your turn to try texting a stranger." - Her fingers gently patted your cheek before she turned on her heels, dragging Aaron along. You wanted to go home anyway. And as you watched Kim and the big quarterback disappearing in the distance, you turned on your heels to leave the place as well.

It was a nice evening. You had seen someone gulping down a whole fucking cup of beer under one minute without throwing it out, you saw a dude undressing in front of the stage, a shit ton of people making out, and a few of them throwing up. Sometimes doing these things simultaneously. Which was as impressive as scary. But honestly, you were fucking tired.

Silently, you snuck through the house, closing the door behind. Just when you wanted to call the whole operation a success, you almost stumbled over Mr. Skittles, your super-extra-old tomcat. Even when you almost screamed and Mr. Skittles almost hissed at you pretty loudly to put you back into your place, you both stayed silent and looked at each other. Not too long after that, you were already laying in your bed, trying to fall to sleep.

The next morning, Kim rolled to your house in her old, falling apart Beetle. She was looking worse than you - there were sunglasses on her eyes, she sure as hell hasn't done her make-up in the morning, she didn't even comb her hair, she just put a baseball cap over it. - "You look fucking disgusting." - Was the first thing you told her when you opened up the door. Kim leaned closer to you, pulling her sunglasses down for a minute to look you in the eyes. - "You. Have. No. Idea." - And with that, you set on your way to school.

There still was a mysterious number which was given to Kim. You didn't throw it away but you weren't exactly overhyped to text them. You didn't want to lose the small piece of paper, but you didn't keep it on your field of vision. But there was a day when you gladly took the gamble. It was a few days before one of the shorter holidays, so naturally, there was a big test coming your way. Kim and Aaron were shopping for your stay at your grandma's small cabin just a few minutes down the road.

You, in the meantime, were trying to study. But even the leaves falling on the ground were more interesting than the subject you were trying to study for. So, as you tried to build a small tower from your pens and markers and as it had fallen again, your eyes slowly traveled to the drawer where you stored the small piece of paper for the last few days. Well, you could try it, right? It won't hurt anyone. You didn't even know who's number that was. It would be just like snapping or texting on Omegle, huh?

Slowly, you stood up from your desk and walked to the drawer, taking it out. You were weirdly on edge. It was more than two weeks since the whole concert thingy - the person probably accepted that Kim fucked them over. So you didn't have to stress about this whole situation. You could maybe just make something up in case they would ask where you got the number? This was nonsense. You shouldn't be nervous about such bullshit. So all you had to do was that you had to text the first text. And so you went for it.

You: Is someone there?

That was a tragic first text, that had to be said. And as soon as your phone marked it as delivered, you threw the device away on your bed, turning to your table with your heart in your throat. Why were you feeling so sick? Were you about to pass out? Most likely yeah. And it got worse - because the person had responded.

(Unknown number): Yea, there is. And you are? Where did you get this number?

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 10

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez x Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Word count: 3.1k words

Warning(s): Mature | Gun phobia, stalking. Diego and Healy get POVs in this one while Jazmine gets some R&R with the help from her mother. This is a plot only chapter, sorry. Previous Masterlist Next

Author’s Note: No beta reader and I’m far too exhausted to edit properly. After this story, I’m gonna adjust exactly how I format my fics. My million other fic ideas plus my debate over participating in NANOWRIMO this year have been keeping me from working on this too much, I figured it was time to put this up since the last chapter was posted in September... 

The rest of the day went by with a subtle ease. The temperature was just perfect for a coat and Diego seemed to have nowhere to be. Bordering on the miraculous, it was the man himself who asked her if she wanted to go out and have fun. Feeling caught off guard, Jazmine elected to throw caution to the wind and suggest something other than a fancy nightclub to hang out in. And when Diego heard the name, his jaw dropped. 

Two-Bit’s Retro Arcade. 

He did not ask why (though he did scoff, but more so in amusement than derision). Julio was elated to hear the address (apparently he’d been before), and Miguel looked crestfallen to have to stay at the penthouse. The journey from ritzy apartment to 25 cent arcade felt like being washed in time, stepping backwards into her past with a piece that didn't belong in that memory. 

The place was decently busy, there seemed to be no parties bigger than five. A collection of young kids took up the classics section, rotating between Dig Dug, Pac Man, and Tapper Light. The young man who played pinball every day was there. She didn't know his name but she knew his three letter handle because he had the highest score on every pinball machine in the arcade. The rest were small and easygoing groups, buying beers and gathering around prize winning claw games or Dance Dance Revolution. 

"Do they have air hockey?," Diego asked over her shoulder. He was dressed down per her request, in a simple hoodie and jeans. She kept glancing at him, feeling drawn to the simplicity of liking a simple man. 

"Over here." She had no intention of hiding how familiar she was with this place. Diego gave Julio a nod and the man dissolved into the background but was never out of sight. Suddenly, Jazmine became very aware that there were now at least two guns in this public space. Air hockey was... occupied. "Looks like a college tournament. Come on, we're not going to be able to play for like a week." 

She grabbed his arm to guide him away, but the man didn't budge. He stared those college boys down, looking for a fight. If he started something… 

"Diego. Diego! Please… it's just a game, I know a better one we won't have to share." 

At last he acquiesced and followed behind, never more than a foot away. She didn't realize she was holding her breath and wondered if those guys noticed his staring… they probably thought it was normal though. 

Jazmine brought Diego to the darkest corner of the arcade where nobody was or needed to pass by. If she stopped dead in her tracks, Diego would have tripped over her immediately for how close he was, but now that he had her exclusive attention, she didn't mind. She gestured to her favorite game and smiled. 

"Welcome to Marvel Vs Capcom: Clash of Superheroes," she announced. "Nobody plays this version because there's a huge glitch that sometimes makes one character untouchable." 

"OK." Diego wore a sly grin. No doubt he intended to find the cheat character and win all matches, but Jazmine knew all of this game's little secrets. 

Unsurprisingly, Diego's first pick was Wolverine. Jazmine refrained from rolling her eyes and let him work through the board of player characters, picking her own at random and sometimes picking the one she knew would fair better against his character to make it an even game. She watched his brow grow tighter and tighter as he couldn't find the broken character. He even switched up strategies– picking the characters that looked the least strong and working up from there (the opposite of his earlier choices). At last, he picked Chun-Li, having not noticed Jazmine picked it three times already, and he glanced at her face once more to see if she reacted, but the woman gave nothing away. Not until he looked towards the screen did she crack a smile. 

The way the smugness drained off of Diego's face made her smile broaden. He looked at the controls as if they were to blame, then to Jazmine and back to the screen where Chun Li had walked off of the edge of the screen. Annoyed, he leaned over the controls menacingly and waited for an explanation from the Cheshire cat grin on his partner's face. 

It took her awhile to answer him– she was trying really hard to fight the bubbling laughter in her belly. "Yeah, that um… that's what I was talking about. If you play the same character four times, the game breaks. You can't be hit but you also can't hit and you need to hold down the joystick to keep from walking off the edge of the screen… if you let them get away, well… you have to unplug the whole system." 

Diego looked pissed. He stared her down for so long she gulped but eventually, he freed her from his penetrative gaze. His hand slipped under her jacket and found a home at the base of her spine, and suddenly she was being whisked away towards the bathrooms. 

"Where are we–" 

Diego wasted not a breath and pushed her into the women's bathroom (unsurprisingly closet sized), before crowding her space to step inside and lock the door behind. Her heart began to pound against her chest as he turned and fixed her with a commanding glare. He moved as sly as a big cat, forcing her to find purchase against the tiny wood counter with the sink and leaning over her with his lips pressed to her nose. 

He said something softly in Spanish that she didn't understand, but it sounded sultry and it sent a pleasant shiver down her back. She thought he was going to kiss her, but then there was something hard and heavy he pressed into her hand. 

A gun. 

Her eyes bulged– glancing quickly between him and the shiny dark metal of the killing contraption– and shook her head minutely. 

"Take it," he said. She just kept shaking her head, hiding her hands beneath her arms and feeling dizzy, on the verge of passing out. He growled. "I wasn't asking." 

If he wasn't pressed against her, she would be rocking for comfort. Jazmine did not like guns. Her eyes misted over as she whispered, "why?" 

"They've been following us since we left." He slid the wretched mechanism up along her arm and let it rest just below her collarbone. "Haagen's men probably. They're getting bolder– probably by their master's orders." He tilted his head as if he was speaking of something completely mundane as he said, "did you really think those air hockey guys were college students? It's a Thursday." 

Jazmine didn't mean to whimper, but she managed to keep her tears at bay long enough to touch a finger to the gun, not quite taking it, but letting him know she would. She let him show her the safety and slipped it into the back of her pants, careful not to hurt her and demonstrating an awareness of her southpaw. He was almost hugging her when he finally stepped back (as far as the little toilet would allow). When his heel clinked against the porcelain, he turned to make sure he hadn't stepped in a mess, and Jazmine bolted. 

~

"Hello?" 

There was no one else's voice she wanted to hear more than that of Lashawn Mann. Jazmine felt guilt well up alongside the anxiety that had been threatening to consume her for weeks. 

"Mama?" Her voice sounded so small in her own ears. "Can I come over and see you?" 

"Of course, baby. You can come see me right now: I'm at your place." 

Jazmine caught a cab from Essex street home, and though Diego possessed an acute lack of awareness for personal space or feelings, he did leave her alone for a while. No SUVs with fake licenses trailed her home, no voicemails and no texts came through. She put it in airplane mode to make sure things stayed that way. She had a thought to drop Healy's hearing aid down a drain but put it in her pocket instead. 

Lashawn was waiting with Hercules. The tiny bit of annoyance Jazmine usually felt about getting slobbered on washed away the instant she saw her furry grey friend. The woman plopped her butt onto the ground and let the dog run amok in excitement to see her again. 

"Mom…" Hercules settled down in her lap and weighed her to the earth like an anchor for a ship at sea. "If something happens to me, will you take care of her?" 

"What do you mean 'if something happens to you'? Child, I ain't heard from you in two months and you come back with that?" Lashawn sat down on the floor despite her bad knees and leaned on her daughter's shoulder. "Baby, what's going on with you?" 

~

Estupido. She shouldn't have run away like that. 

Diego was overthinking in the backseat while Julio sat in perfect silence. The driver would have preferred the radio on, but his boss demanded the proper atmosphere to brood in. Taking what little he knew of the woman, Jazmine was probably going to retreat to her apartment since he lived in the only other place she was safe. Whatever– she would return in her own time. Unless her own time hindered their operation. 

We can't lose this opportunity. We are so close to Porsche and revenge. Hurry up, cariño. Make our next move. 

Diego was stuck deep inside his head even as he stood with his sister hours later in yet another huge warehouse with examples to be made of. Alicia wiped the blade of her knife onto her bodyguard's sleeve, then turned the blade over to her brother. 

"Finish the last one, will you?" 

Diego hummed, distracted by the conversation at the edge of the half circle. He did not like what he heard. He dug the blade straight into the crying man's heart, then cut his throat just for good measure. The blood on his hands was drying before he was able to speak again. He and Alicia were sat in her limo across from each other. She tactfully ignored his piercing gaze, while he worried the stickiness between his fingers mindlessly. 

"What's this I hear about you staying in New York?" 

Alicia glanced coolly up from inspecting her nails. "What do you mean? Someone needs to run the business." 

"That's what that idiot and your little fuck toy Dre are for. They deal with shit here while we get Porsche back, and then we go home. Together." 

"No," she shrugged. "Dre can't be trusted, Diego. I'm staying, you're going back to Mexico. We can split parent: the girl comes to live with me for a while and then with you. Every month or so…?" 

Diego's hands ball into fists and his teeth hurt from the pressure of keeping his jaw closed. Fucking puta, he thought as the car slowed to a stop. Exiting the car, the man pulled himself up to his full height and reveled in the brief moment of fear that registered on her face. 

"I'm not your errand boy, hermana. I don't do things because you think it's convenient. And I won't be sent away like an annoying pest so you can trounce about in luxury while I'm stuck doing peasant work. Am I the only one worried about that little fucking girl?" 

Through the marble stonework of her mask, he saw the cracks in her armor. "We can talk about this later, Diego." 

"Do you even want her back?," he sneered. 

"Stop it!" 

Alicia pushed him out of her way and disappeared quickly, her entourage scurrying to follow her. Diego looked to his men to find them with their eyes cast down as if they were witness to something they should never see. He stormed away with his head full of rage and more questions than answers. 

~

Meanwhile in a stuffy police office space, Healy was getting chewed out. His superiors figured him out, and now he was sat in interrogation with a furious pair of agents awaiting an explanation and disciplinary action. 

"You took it too far, Healy," his boss said. "I mean, you have really outdone yourself this time." 

"Yes sir." 

"Fucking A, right!" Agent Brasa slammed her hand on the table. No doubt she was chewing a huge wad of nicotine gum and gunning for his immediate firing. "This was our case, Healy, ours. Mine and Holbrooke, not yours!" 

Holbrooke remained ever brooding, silently leaning against the wall and watching the scene unfold. Though they made remained neutrally poised, he could tell by the pinch in their brow they were just as angry as Brasa. Healy had given up trying to talk to Brasa, and instead appealed to Holbrooke this time. 

"You two have every right to be angry with me–" 

"Oh do I??" Brasa cut in, "I didn't realize I needed your permission to be pissed off!" 

"-- but I did it because I had an 'in.' I saw an opportunity that only I could have seized, and–" 

"Are you really going to let him get away with this, Stahlworth?" Brasa looked accusingly at their boss, who merely scratched at his neck and closed his eyes as if keeping them open pained him greatly. 

"Brasa. Holbrooke. Out. I'll handle this the way I see fit– and don't argue with me, Marie, or I'll put you on suspension." 

The two stormed out into the hall, and finally Healy was able to breathe. As soon as he had been confronted by Stahlworth, he had come clean– setting up a covert op without agency permission and using a civilian to distract the perp while he slipped a mole into the organization and collected information. Brasa and Holbrooke had done amazing work– they discovered Haagen was the head, profiled the victims, and knew many of the locations of the exchanges– but they couldn't get any further to seizure warrants or when the exchanges were taking place. 

Healy looked pleadingly at Stahlworth. "They didn't have the resources to cover all those locations with proper 24 hour surveillance, Jack. Haagen is always one step ahead of them– of us– anyways because someone in this very organization is on his payroll. I don't need the glory, I don't want the case to myself– I just want this fucker behind bars. If you have to suspend me, I understand, if you have to fire me, I get it– but please don't throw out my evidence. People's lives are on the line, and Brasa and Holbrooke need this info–" 

"Who's your informant?" Healy snapped his mouth shut as the dreaded words left Stahlworth to hang menacingly in the air. "Healy? Who. Is your. Informant? Who are you working with? Give me a clearer picture of what you've been up to, and maybe I'll ask the DA to go easy on your ass." 

Healy gritted his teeth and dug his heels in. "I can't tell you any of that. A mole for a mole, I can't afford to trust that the eyes and ears in this very room are sound. Now if you want to pass this case back over to the agents it belongs to, I just have a few conditions concerning the safety of–" 

"Is this about Meghan?," Stahlworth asked. 

Healy's voice died in his throat. A lump formed and he had to swallow it down before it consumed him completely. Standing from his chair, Healy buttoned his coat and came face to face with his boss. 

"This is about the kids I can still save. Sir."

~

After LaShawn helped Jazmine pack her belongings, the daughter decided to take Hercules to the park for some fresh air. Her mother had made it clear she wanted Jazmine to move back in with her since she'd lost her job, but what she didn't know was that before Healy and Haagen, Jazmine was two months behind on rent, and she should have lost the lease to her apartment weeks ago. As it stood now, the landlord hadn’t bothered her once– so someone was paying her bills. Exactly who would remain a mystery as Diego, Healy, and Haagen possessed the means and the interest in keeping her in New York City, so she tried not to think too hard about it. 

Jazmine picked a spot in the grass and let Herc off the leash. She threw a beat up tennis ball with a little cheap plastic arm and watched her happy grey pupper zip around picnickers and other dog walkers, always stopping to be petted by every little girl and boy who squealed happily to see her. The woman was jumpy and constantly on edge, but for some reason she barely flinched when Diego sat down next to her. 

"I'll be honest, I'm glad you're here," she said without looking his way. 

He took the plastic arm and threw the next ball watching Hercules trot over hill and dale for this throw. "Did Healy tell you about Porsche?" 

Jazmine turned to see the dark bags under Diego's eyes. "He said something about a missing baby… is that what you mean?" 

The man leaned into her shoulder. "Yes." 

"I'm sorry, Diego." 

"I want my baby back, Jazmine. I want to watch her grow up happy and healthy and loved." He turns to look at her with an expression of maturity she didn't think he was capable of. "That's why I need you. We need you. You're probably scared, but you can't be more scared than that little girl is right now." 

It felt like a punch to the gut. Part of her was annoyed by his dismissal of her fear, but for the most part she understood. It wasn't hard to figure out what happened to older girls and boys in Haagen's ring, but what the fuck was he doing with babies? The thought twisted her stomach until her head ached from nausea. 

Diego continued, scratching at his eye to cover the build up of tears that threatened to spill out. "Healy said he found evidence of sales for kids under 13 that looked more like adoption papers than anything. Requirements for private education and a separate bedroom, things like that. He said he has a stack with no names but six of them are around her age with the name of the adoptive parents on it. It's a start." 

"It's a very good start." Jazmine placed her hand on Diego's back and let him curl into her side with a sigh. "It means she's still alive, that's fantastic... do you think Haagen noticed the papers were missing? He probably has so many…" 

Diego shrugged noncommittally and dragged her down to lay in the grass with Hercules. As he did, she felt the gun in her pants dig into her back, tightening that fist clenched around her heart. She was safe for now, in this moment. But would she ever be again?

@mental-bycatch @nicke0115 @1zashreena1 @girlpornparadise @kid-from-new-zealand​

[prorevenge]

Got an asshole fired and helped a co-worker get a job they wanted.

About 20 years ago, I got a job at a warehouse/ delivery place, pulling and delivering windshields. When I started, there were 6 drivers - 1 old white guy who'd been there since humanity existed, 4 young black guys, and me (white female). I mention this only because, unfortunately, it does become important later. There were also 4-5 people in the office running sales/ admin, including the only other female at the company. She'd wanted a delivery job, but had been told "that's not a woman's job" so was stuck in the office. The guy who hired me made a big deal about how he'd stuck his neck out for me, and was getting crap from his buddies for hiring a woman. There was some undertone about equal opportunity, but I've never counted on that and made sure I went above and beyond.

At the time, it was a locally-owned place, and rules were not really standardized about most things. In theory, each driver was supposed to take orders for the next route scheduled, load up the next available truck, and head out. In reality, there was an unofficial pecking order, and each driver had "their" route/s and truck. As the new guy, I got the less-than-great pickup truck with an open-air rack and various problems; most of the other trucks were box trucks (think small moving trucks) so the windshields wouldn't get wet as they were delivered, and the driver could rearrange things inside the truck if the route got switched around for whatever reason. I also got the furthest-away route with the latest delivery times, so I usually got stuck in rush hour on the way back. I know the rules, though, so I shut my mouth, sucked it up, and waited for turnover to make me not-the-new guy and get a better truck/ route.

Surprisingly, turnover didn't happen. There were the usual problems with 2 of the workers not pulling their weight, but... no one ever got fired. The worst offender was, of course, the guy at the top of the unofficial pecking order, we'll call him Mike. Dude was huge - easily a foot taller than me (I'm not short), I'm pretty sure all he did was work and workout, and he constantly bragged about doing steroids to get bigger. He would only take the shortest run with the fewest deliveries and spend the rest of the time talking sh!t with the other drivers or just randomly vanishing. A couple months after I started, I got some big orders for my routes all in a row, and asked for help so I could gather everything, load up, and head out on time. This was not uncommon - there were several machines used for pulling the stock, so if you finished your orders early, you helped others who were behind. Not Mike, though - you'd think I'd asked him to skin a puppy. Got in my face, yelling about how dare I ask him to do anything, I'm just the new guy, get out of here and don't let him see me again, etc., you get the picture. One of the other guys I'd become friends with pulled me away and helped me get loaded up and out the door, but that never really sat right with me. Mike had never been friendly to me, but after that day, he'd go out of his way to be an ass - nothing big, but enough to seriously irritate me and intimidate the other guys to not talk to me when he was around.

A little while later, I mentioned the outburst to the lady in the office, and she told me why nothing would ever be done about Mike or anyone else. Apparently the personnel guy, we'll call him Tony, had gotten fired from his previous job over a complaint about racism. He'd used the phrase "Black Friday" to refer to, well, Black Friday: the day after Thanksgiving, when sales are supposed to get companies back in the black/ financially solvent. Apparently one of his employees claimed he used it as a racist remark, it got taken to court and somehow, Tony was found guilty and fired. Basically, that meant that he couldn't take any actions against a black worker ever again, because he's got a prior judgement against him. The drivers knew that, and Mike (and one other but he's not important here) absolutely used it to do the bare minimum required to stay employed. That didn't sit right with me either, but I was just a driver, and the new guy, so nothing I could do about it.

Until...

A couple months later, the owner did some necessary maintenance around the place, and one of the things done was getting rid of "my" old truck and buying a new-er one that was half-enclosed/ half open-air racks. The owner apparently said it should go to "whoever had driven the old truck" as an apology for not having heat/ ac in the old one, but I'm not super picky. Offered it to the old guy, because seniority, but he turned it down in favor of "his" truck that he was used to and was fully enclosed. I offered it to the two black guys who actually did their jobs and were pretty decent to me (when Mike wasn't around), but same thing - they wanted their own, enclosed trucks. Ok, cool. Newish truck for me! Spent the first day getting used to it, and stayed late off the clock getting it sparkling clean, inside and out. The only thing it lacked was the new car smell, everything else was polished, cleaned, buffed, shined, etc.

Well, apparently, the fact that I didn't bow and scrape to Mike pissed him off even more, and seeing the "new" truck out back all shiny and pristine was too much to handle. He was already out on a run when I came in the next day, so I loaded up and headed out as per usual. Got back about 5 minutes before his second run of the day was supposed to leave and he came storming out before I could even get out of the truck. Screaming profanity, "how dare you take my truck, get tf out of that thing, get your sh!t out, that's my truck, I'm gonna take it 'cause it looks good and I deserves it, you're just a bitch, you don't deserve anything nice, I'm gonna f**k you up," etc etc.

Side note: I don't tolerate bullies at all, and I don't back down easily. I was always the little kid, growing up, and I learned just how far I could push it, mouthing off and calmly standing up to kids bigger than me because "oh, you're so tough? You're gonna pick on a little girl?" As I grew up, I tended to work in "men's jobs," so I was used to taking some sh!t but also drawing a line firmly in the sand and defending it. I am occasionally surprised I haven't gotten decked a time or two, but I've gotten pretty good at reading a situation.

Back to the story: I'm sitting in the newish truck with Mike standing outside the door screaming profanity and threats at me. For all the sh!t that Mike talked, though, I got the feeling he was used to getting his way without actual violence. I calmly opened the door and got out, but left my personal belongings in the truck and locked the door behind me. He was doing his damnedest to intimidate me, getting up in my space, finger in my face, personal threats, etc. I started walking toward the office, which was all the way on the opposite end of the warehouse, and he followed me the whole way, still screaming, threats getting worse and worse, apparently ignorant to the fact that literally every single employee had stopped what they were doing and was watching us. I walked into the office and just stood there for about 4-5 minutes, staring at the owner while Mike just kept going off. He finally realized I wasn't reacting to him and ran out of steam, and you could see the realization of where he was register on his face, but he glanced over at Tony and smirked, probably figuring he was still untouchable.

In the silence that followed, I calmly said to the owner, "You have four black guys working in the warehouse." He nodded. "And you have one woman working out there." He nodded again, and I saw the light come on. Without looking at anyone else, I said, "I do not want to pull the gender card here, but if something is not done about this situation, I will have to take steps to ensure my safety." I grabbed the tickets for my next run, turned around, and walked back to the warehouse to start pulling the orders.

I'm not really sure what happened next, because all the other guys had mysteriously gotten loaded and left on their runs in record time, and I followed not long after. When I got back, Mike was no longer there, and one of the other guys was training the admin lady to be a new driver. Over the next week, I got quiet "thank you"s from her, Tony, and the other drivers who actually did work. The other slacker guy got fired a while later for possession with intent to distribute, I believe. I left about a year later to drive bigger trucks, but by then we had a pretty solid crew of drivers who helped each other out.

TL;DR: I worked as a warehouse/ delivery person with 4 black guys and an HR guy who'd been fired as a racist for using the phrase "Black Friday," so he couldn't take any action without being accused of racism again. One of the black drivers who thought he ruled the place didn't like that I got a newish delivery truck that no one else wanted, screamed and threatened me as I walked into the office so everyone could see; pointed out there were 4 black drivers and one female. Guy was fired.

​

Sorry, that was WAY longer than I thought it'd be when I remembered it. Let me know if anything's unclear or this isn't where it belongs.

(source) story by (/u/Manarelle)

[tk-productions]

Mystic Sisters- Ch.1 Who’s watching us?

Yua’s POV

“Yua mom said breakfast is ready. Hurry up!” My younger sister yelled from the other side of my bedroom door. I groaned sitting up and sliding on my slippers. I rubbed my eyes trying to wake myself up. Why was that dream so weird? I thought to myself. The only thing I could remember was running away and a voice telling me to  keep running. “Why do I feel like I know that voice?” 

“ I'm tired, go away” I said to my sister as I finally opened the door. “ Can’t I sleep in peace?”

“Mom called you 30 minutes ago and you never came down. We're gonna be late……. again because of you.” I rolled my eyes at her. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“I see you finally joined us.” Dad laughed while eating his breakfast.”Well yeah thanks to Hikari.” I replied, taking my seat at the table. 

“Have a good day. I’ll be back late so your dad is making dinner tonight.” Mom explained putting our bento boxes in our backpacks. Hikari looked at me with a disgusted look. “Do you think he’s gonna try to make us eat miso soup again? And the rice balls?” she whispered horrified.  

“Um we’ll cook tonight instead.” I chimed in thinking about the last time dad tried to cook for us. He somehow left the soup and rice on too long and it got stuck to the bottom of the pot. We had to get a new rice cooker because he burnt the rice. We ended up with take-out that night. 

I had that dream replaying in my head over and over. I know it probably didn't mean anything but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

“Oneesan, are you okay? You were quiet the whole way here. I asked you what we were making for dinner but you didn't say anything.” Hikari asked worriedly when we arrived at our school Meguro Academy. I looked at her smiling. “No, I'm fine. I’ll see you after class.”  I hugged her and quickly walked to  class. I know she didn’t buy it. For some reason we’ve always been able to feel each other's emotions. Any time either of us were upset the other one knew. 

I walked into class 4-a and sat at my desk pulling out my homework from last night. It was just a dream. I told myself again. There’s no need for me to get worked up over nothing. I sat in class lost in my thoughts  when I felt my phone buzz in my uniform pocket.

HIKARI❤️🌺😜: let’s eat lunch together

                                    YUA🥀: 👍🏾

HIKARI❤️🌺😜: Where are we eating?

YUA🥀: Meet me at the water fountain.

I tried to get through my next classes without falling asleep. I sighed in relief as the bell for lunch finally rang. I ran my hands through my red hair. Mid- terms were coming up so we’ve been doing more work than normal.

When I get to the fountain Hikari is already there. 

“I told you I was fine.”  I reassured her by noticing the expression on her face. Hikari and I weren’t much different looks wise. People always confused us for the other one. Hikari was a year younger than me and had a more playful look. While I had a more serious “mature” look as our mom would say. The main difference in our looks were our eyes and beauty marks. I had green eyes while my sister had grey eyes. I had a mole on my lip on the left and Hikari had a dimple on her right cheek. I listened to my sister ramble about her math test she just took. I laughed watching her complain about how much she hates the subject until I felt eyes on me. It felt familiar. I looked up and locked eyes with the eyes that I once loved but now hated. In front of me was the person I fell in love with. The reason I can’t fall in love again. Haru. The memories of him came rushing back. 

Everything was going fine that day until he left me. Haru had been distant so we agreed to go on a date. We started the day at Mystic cafe and ended the night at the local festival. The whole day Haru looked sad. He reassured me that he was okay but I knew something was up. We dated for two and a half years and I knew when it was lying. That night was the first time he told me he loved me. When he dropped me off at the front door he told me he didn’t want to be with me. “Haru what do you mean? You just told me you loved me.” 

“Im sorry Yua. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“I love you Haru. Whatever it is we can fix it.” I cried. 

“I'm sorry.” He said once again before walking away leaving me there to cry on my front porch confused and upset. I could see his dimly lit figure fade away into the darkness. 

That was 7 months ago. After that night he stopped showing up to school. Haru stopped answering my calls and texts messages. When I went to his house to see him no one would be home. 

“Haru..” I whispered not loud enough for him to hear me. He smiled before walking away.

“Did you see that? The nerve of him to smile at me after he hurt me the way he did.” I rant to Hikari. 

“Don’t be so hot-headed.” Hikari mumbled, stuffing her face with her rice balls making a mess as per usual.

“Well he shouldn't be so shameless you know. And stop stuffing your face.”I said huffing and wiping her face with my sleeve.  Every time I saw him all the memories we shared the good and the bad come rushing back. Then the pain follows. The pain of him breaking my heart. He’s the reason why I can’t ever fall in love again. 

“Yua-chan we still need tofu and daikon for the kimchi jjigae.” Hikari chirped in front of me grabbing a few boxes of almond flavored Pocky off the shelf and tossing them into the basket. She cheerfully walked down the aisle adding stuff in the basket that we didn’t need. “ I hope you have money for that.” I warned as Hikari added ramen into the basket. 

“I don’t because you're paying.” she smiled before turning down the next aisle. I rolled my eyes , pushing the basket following behind her. 

“I can’t believe you made me spend $20 on Pocky and ramen.” I muttered looking down at the receipt. 

“You love me though.” Hikari cheered, opening the Pocky offering me one. I shook my head no and Hikari shrugged while reaching for the bags. 

“I do, so you're lucky.” I laugh out.

I had forgotten about the dream while being with Hikari. Things were always easier when we were together. Mom always said that we’ve been joint at the hip. I was listening to my sister ramble on about the manga she was reading while we walked to the train to go home. Something didn't feel right. 

“And the next book comes out friday. I already pre-ordered it.” Hikari rambled on. I stopped in my tracks glancing at  my sister. She stopped walking and looked back at me with the same concerned look she had been wearing all day. “Why’d you stop?”

“I feel like we're being watched.”

[imagine-loki]

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 50/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You spent the next month bouncing between your classes where Loki hung out on campus with you when you weren’t actually in class, patrol, healings for the Avengers, and dance practice for the ball.  It was a lot of work, but not the most you’d been through and being with Loki helped.  

“Thor and Sif want to come visit,” Loki told you the day before the ball.

“Are they coming for the ball?” you asked him excitedly. It would be fun to have them there.  They obviously knew how to dance and a ball was something the Asgardians could understand easily. 

Loki nodded. “It will not be a problem, will it?” he didn’t want to upset Fury anymore than any of the rest of you did. You shook your head and texted Fury to let him know Thor and Sif would be attending the ball, and coming to town. “Great! Mother will be opening the portal for them in a couple minutes.” It was much easier now that you all had the portal spell to use that instead of trekking all the way to the bifrost.  

"We should get downstairs, then,” you commented dryly. It had been a late start that morning and you had neglected to get out of bed so far. It was nearly noon. Oops. 

You got out of the bed no matter how reluctantly and summoned clothes for yourself, a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. You tied your hair back in a simple tail. You were getting stupidly fancily dressed up tomorrow so today was extra casual and lazy. At least that was the plan. Loki could just deal with you being lazy and casual today. He still pouted at you anyway. “C'mon, Lo. We want to be downstairs before our Lady Mother opens the portal,” you reminded him.  That didn’t stop you from still having to grab his hand and physically pull him from the bed.

You were both laughing as you made our way downstairs to the commonroom where the portal would open. “What are you two up to?” Tony asked at your laughing, looking up from whatever he was reading. “It was so quiet with you sleeping in,” he teased.

“Thor and Sif are coming to visit,” you explained. “We need to be down here to greet them,”

“Why are they coming here?” Tony asked, more curious than anything.  He liked Thor, so of course he didn’t mind that he was coming to visit. 

“They would like to attend the ball tomorrow,” Loki replied eagerly and a bit excitedly, which was strange for when he was speaking with Tony.  He was usually more wary around your uncle. 

Which sparked another question.  “How do they even know about the ball?” you asked Loki, turning your attention up to him. 

“Mother asked for an update about what was going on here, and if we’d heard anything from Balder. I mentioned that there was a ball coming up,” he replied, but there was something off about his explanation.  It wasn’t a lie, not really, thanks to him you’d have been able to smell if it was. But he was skipping something. 

You didn’t argue with him. 

Yet.

But you did make a note that he was keeping something from you.  It seemed so unlike him. 

A minute later, the portal crackled open. You and Loki both stepped back from it to allow Thor and Sif to walk through. You greeted them with hugs as per usual though Loki gave them more formal greetings, until Thor squished him in a bone-crushing hug. “Welcome to Earth,” you told Sif, who hadn’t been to Earth in a rather long while, and never to the tower.

“Thank you sister,” she replied with a smile. She went over to greet Loki once he was free of Thor’s hug. Thor came over and gave you another hug. You didn’t get squished, since you submitted to it willingly. “Sister, we wish to go visit your parents to pay our respects,” Sif told you formally once she had greeted Loki. 

You nodded, expecting that.  It was their way after all. “Of course.” you looked over at Tony. “Do you want to come too?” you asked him. It had been awhile since either of you had been to visit. 

He nodded. “Yeah, just let you go change.” He was wearing lounge clothes since today was supposed to be a lazy day..

“Need me to-?” you asked, offering him a hand. You had already used magic to change into a green sundress which was much more appropriate for visiting your parents. 

Tony hesitated but finally held out his hand. “Fine,” he grumbled. You didn’t think he really liked anyone using magic on him, but it was a quick spell and would get you out of here sooner. With a flash of magic he was dressed and ready.

“Lo, take care of Thor, will you?”

“Of course, Sig,” he replied. You rolled your eyes. He was teasing you with your superhero name as a direct result of you calling him ‘Lo’ in front of his family.

You turned to Sif and offered her a hand. “Will you allow me to conjure you Earth clothes?” you asked her more formally than truly necessary. You didn’t know her as well as Thor and sometimes still found yourself unsure about her and about whether she’d appreciate your using magic on her behalf.

“That would be appreciated,” she replied with a smile. You relaxed then, and took her hand. You summoned her a very pretty maxi dress, which was very flattering to her figure. You took a look at her left hand, which was covered in the swirls of her own soulbond with Thor. You summoned a wedding ring set for her and slipped them on the appropriate finger. It was costume jewelry, but looked real enough for this purpose. You tossed the gold ring for Thor to him. He caught it and slipped it on, remembering it from the last time he was on Earth. “What is this?” she asked, indicating the rings.

“It’s a wedding ring set, the Earthen symbol that someone is married. The diamond ring is an engagement ring. Generally the man presents it to his lady when he asks her to agree to the Earthen equivalent of the soulbond. The plain bands are exchanged during the ceremony,” you explained. “I gave Thor the gold ring to wear last time he was here to protect him from admiring females,” you added with a grin. 

She laughed at that. “I am sure the females were very entranced by his form,” she added, smiling fondly at her husband.  You didn’t blame her.  Thor’s physique was very attractive. 

“Quite entranced,”

“Shall we, ladies?” Loki asked, drawing your attention away from discussing Thor’s body. You both laughed at him, but agreed that you should head out.

“You’re driving, Uncle!” you announced. Tony growled at you, but it was half-hearted at best. "I need to call the florist on the way anyway,” you reminded him.

“Fine, imp. I’ll drive,” Tony smirked and led the way out to where he was parked. You offered Sif shotgun, even though it was your to claim, but she refused, preferring to sit with Thor in the back. So you took shotgun and made a quick call to the florist. On the way, Tony, Loki, and Thor went into the liquor store to pick out something for your dad. You and Sif sat chatting in the car while you waited for them.  You still weren’t of age and didn’t want to make a fuss with the store thinking Tony was buying it for you. “Thor tried to pick out an entire case of beer for dad,“ Tony grumbled as he drove you to the florist which caused you all to laugh.

"What!? It is a warrior’s drink!” Thor protested, making you all laugh harder. 

Mary had your flower order ready when you arrived at her shop. It only took you a minute to go in and collect the flowers.  The order went on your tab.  

After that, you drove straight to the cemetery and to your parents’ graves. You and Tony went up first with your offering of flowers and alcohol and greeted your parents, apologizing for not visiting more often. You stepped back and Sif stepped up next, kneeling and murmuring a prayer. Loki was flipping the pages of a spellbook while she did. You looked over at him, but he was distracted with his spellbook. “Lo, you don’t have to do that-“ you started, but knew he wouldn’t listen as per usual.

"I would like to. Would you assist me?” he asked. You realized there was no arguing with him. He had a reason for wanting to do this. So you nodded and took his hand so you could recite the spell together. You kissed him when it was cast, but ran to greet your parents a moment later. You couldn’t help it.  You got to see them corporeally again, even though they’d been dead for years. 

You introduced Sif to them, and Thor properly since he could speak that day and hadn’t been able to last time.  You caught them up on everything you’d been up to, while getting lots of hugs in. At one point, you noticed that all of the boys took dad off to the side. You and Sif tried to ignore whatever they were doing and mom helped by asking Sif something about Asgard to distract you both. You had a feeling mom knew what the boys were up to, but apparently you weren’t allowed to know.

“Did you get the message from Frigga?” Sif asked you while the boys were distracted. 

You nodded, remembering that ominous note.  “Did she have any other hints or warnings to go with it?“ you asked softly. You still hadn’t told Loki about the note and knew that you shouldn’t. 

Sif shook her head, regret in her eyes. "No hints, but she said to ask for our help if you need it when the time comes,”

“What message?” your mom asked, looking between the two of you confused. 

“Loki’s mom gets premonitions of the future. She saw something happen and sent me a warning,” you explained a little of it. Mom didn’t need all of the details of this. Not of this.

“I’m sure whatever it is, it will be ok,” she answered instead of pressing the matter. You was grateful to her for not pressing it.

“I’m sure it will,” you answered her with a smile and changed the subject to the next day’s ball.

You spent a long time talking with everyone, sitting on a picnic blanket by their graves. “Loki, if you don’t end the spell soon, Thor’s going to have to carry you home. And me along with you,” you told him. You had been feeding him power to maintain the spell and could feel the effects. Loki nodded, though he looked sad that it couldn’t keep it going. “Lo, that spell is insanely draining. You know that as well as I do. Don’t feel bad that we can’t keep it going. We got to visit and actually see my parents,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, Loki, the fact that you can give us this at all is amazing,” Tony said. We all just stared at him for saying something complimentary to Loki, but Tony didn’t acknowledge it. 

You and Tony both said your goodbyes, with the usual bittersweet tears and promises to mom that you’d take care of each other. Loki ended the spell and you felt the backlash of power. You couldn’t stop it. All you could do was wrap your arms around Loki’s slim frame and offer your support so he wouldn’t collapse. Though you weren’t much better “I’m alright,“ he promised you. His power levels were so low. That spell was stupidly draining.

"Sure you are,” you replied sarcastically. 

Thor stepped toward you. “Allow me,” he bid you gently. “Go say your goodbyes,” you nodded and let him take Loki’s weight from you.

“Thor! I can stand!“ Loki protested a moment later, when he was thrown over Thor’s shoulder. You laughed and made your way over to Tony so you could say your last goodbyes to your parents.

"Thank you for coming with us,” you told Sif as we walked back to the car.

“Thank you for allowing me to come pay my respects,” she replied formally, pausing her laughing at Loki, who had fallen asleep on Thor’s shoulder while arguing for his brother to put him down.  He was adorable when he was so stubborn and pouty. 

[duchessfics]

A Lasting Mark Part 2

Billie x Fem!Reader x Audrey

Warning(s): NSFW, Dom/sub dynamics, semi-public sex, praise kink, sex toy usage, orgasm denial, cunninlingus, choking 

Summary: You finally go out on your first date with Audrey and Billie however the dinner goes in a suggestive direction leading to you going home with them. Even though you aren’t the most experienced, you quickly learn that their bedroom activities are much better than you imagined.

Word count: 8465

A/n: So...this ended up being over 12,000 words so there will be a part 3. But it’s already typed up and will be posted tomorrow! I really worked hard on this and hope you enjoy. This had a lot more warnings than I originally intended, but with Billie and Audrey I’m not surprised. ;) Enjoy!

Also @shineestark and @lana-b-bana I know you’re not on my tag list, but I figured you would want to know when I post this. I hope you like how this turned out as much as I do. :)

You can hardly contain your smile as the host leads you to the table Billie and Audrey reserved for your date. It has been around a month since you have seen either woman in person and you are looking forward to reuniting with them. Over the couple days you worked with them on set you had gotten to know them better and found yourself falling hard for them both. But you decided to wait to go out on an official date until shooting was done. However, that didn’t stop you from texting and having a couple late night facetime sessions with them both. As you walk, you smooth down your dress and notice they lead you to a more secluded area. Then you take a couple breaths to calm your nerves. Unfortunately, that effort fails as you see Billie and Audrey sitting at a circle table beside each other.

Audrey looks adorable with her short hair and wears a lacy, off-white dress that compliments her skin beautifully. And she looks to Billie who wears a blush pink dress and pearl necklace. And you have no doubt that they are genuine pearls. Her hair is curled and loose as per usual making you want to run your fingers through it to see if it’s really as smooth as it looks. They both look up as the host steps forward and you can’t help the blush on your face as they both smile up at you.

 After murmuring a soft thank you to the host, you take a seat and Billie murmurs, “You look beautiful tonight, sweetheart.” Did Billie Dean Howard really say that—to you? That is not something you thought you would ever hear even in your wildest dreams. You smile and blush even more as she looks you over appreciatively and reply, “Thank you. You both look stunning as well.” Audrey giggles and bites her lip, but something about her seems…off. Maybe they had a disagreement? They both have very strong personalities. Or she was filming for hours on end and definitely could be exhausted from that.

As you pick up the hefty, leather-bound menu and Audrey says, “We’re so happy to see you, darling.” You look to her sweet face and reply with a smile, “I’m really happy to see both of you too.” Then you pause, looking between them and wonder if this is too forward, but you decide to say it anyways, “I’ve missed being around you both.” Audrey blushes with the biggest grin while Billie smirks and looks as if she knew that already and it feels so good to be with them in person once more. Then you open the menu and before you can stop yourself your eyes widen at the prices adjacent to the food options. “Order whatever you would like, darling. We’re buying.” Billie says. Immediately you look to her and stutter, “T-that’s ok. You don’t have to do that—” But Billie raises her hand, making you stop and her glossy lips form into a smile as she purrs, “It’s my pleasure.” Your mouth suddenly feels dry as her darkened eyes keep contact with yours, so you simply nod.

You go quiet, looking over the list of delicacies and don’t know what half of these things are. The level of luxury in your life is very minimal. So, you decide to choose something that is basic, but at least you have an idea of what the item is. The waiter comes over and they look to you to order so you do so with a blush as you think about the price. Then the waiter looks to Billie and she orders something that you have never even heard of. But her practiced ease makes your stomach warm in arousal. Cool your jets, you inwardly tell yourself. It’s just a dinner order. Finally, the waiter turns to Audrey, but what happens next throws you for a loop.

As she begins to order, her throat closes up and she drops the menu, making your eyes widen. Her jaw clenches as her cheeks turn a dark red, but when she goes to speak, a moan escapes her lips. What the hell? Should you…do something? You aren’t sure so you keep quiet trying not to embarrass her further. Luckily Billie seems to notice and takes Audrey’s hand while saying, “Audrey seems to be tongue-tied at the moment. So, she’ll be fine with the same meal as me.” The waiter looks as shocked as you, but doesn’t say anything, leaving with an awkward smile.

By the time you return your gaze to Audrey, she seems less tense, but still blushes. “Are you ok, Audrey?” You ask, searching her face to get an idea of what’s wrong. She clears her throat and replies, “Y-yes. Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.” Even though she says she’s alright, you eye her down, very skeptical, but she gives you a small smile. As she does, out of the corner of your eye you see Billie smirking and know she must be up to something. But before you can ask anything more about it, Billie asks, “So have you previously dated anyone?” Ha! That’s a good one. You look down, a little embarrassed by your dating history or lack thereof.

“My older brothers were very protective of me, so they usually scared off anyone that was interested.” You begin and make yourself look up at them before you continue, “I dated a guy my senior year in high school. But it only lasted a little less than three months and fizzled out after we both graduated, and I moved away.” They both study you and Audrey says, “So…you’ve never dated a woman before?” Oh crap. Your eyes widen and you begin to inwardly panic as you explain, “Well, um, no. But I-I was, am, I am attracted to women. I just…no one asked me out.” Then you swallow and take a deep breath before explaining, “I-I like men and women…Hopefully that makes sense.” Then your eyes falter as your face burns. Did that really just happen? Unfortunately, it seems so.

Billie reaches over and takes your hand in her smooth, warm one, making you look back up. They both give you reassuring smiles and Billie runs her thumb over the top of your much rougher hand as she soothes, “That makes perfect sense, sweetheart.” You smile, glad that they understand and wonder why you thought they would judge you in the first place.

Billie’s smile turns into a smirk as she casually asks, “And how far did you go with your boyfriend?” At this point, you feel your chest heating up as you look between them and reply, “I…well…we just kissed.” Instead of looking to Billie’s dominant gaze, you look to Audrey and she chirps with a pleasant smile, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, darling. I am quite certain that he loved every kiss you gave him.” You let out a little giggle and Billie releases your hand as the waiter comes over to deliver the food.

Once the dishes are served, before they can probe anymore about your romantic life, you ask, “So how did you two meet?” Immediately, Audrey’s eyes light up and she looks to Billie as she replies, “Well, we first met at an award show and even though I find most Americans to be abhorrent, I felt a connection with Bill right away.” You can’t help but smile as Audrey speaks and you find her nickname for Billie adorable. “So, we exchanged numbers and began to text back and forth. Eventually when the both of us had a break from jobs, we went out on an actual date.” Audrey finishes, letting out a sigh of happiness as she practically swoons under Billie’s gaze. While Billie is much more covert, you see that attraction reciprocated in the way she cares for Audrey. She looks to Audrey and murmurs, “The moment I saw Audrey walk into that restaurant, I knew I was head-over-heels in love with her.” At that, Audrey giggles and lets Billie give her a gentle kiss.

Between bites, Audrey explains, “We went out on a couple more dates before I let Billie take me home.” Billie chuckles, raising her eyebrow as she looks down at Audrey, and comments, “You let me take you home? I distinctly remember you begging me to take you to my home. But perhaps I’m mistaken.” You giggle at the comment while Audrey huffs, but smiles. Then Audrey looks to you and lets out a dramatic sigh before saying, “Anyways, then we really began to explore our relationship. Billie is amazing. I mean, she makes me feel like a teenager again even though the days of my youth are long over.” At that comment, Billie shushes Audrey and kisses her cheek before she says more to Audrey than you, “You are nowhere near being old, my darling. You’re like a fine wine, getting better with each day.” You practically swoon at how Billie compliments Audrey and can see Audrey genuinely smiles before giving Billie a kiss on her cheek.

Audrey brings her hand up to fan her face and she says, “They really ought to keep this place cleaner. Blasted dust getting into my eyes” But you and Billie chuckle, knowing dust has nothing to do with it. By now you are to the last bites of your meal and Billie speaks up, “After taking Audrey home, I learned she can be such a darling submissive.” Then she looks to you with an eyebrow raised and asks, “You know what a submissive is, sweetheart?” Your cheeks burn for the umpteenth time and you nod, your voice failing you as your own arousal resurfaces.

Billie chuckles at your response and takes Audrey’s hand as she looks her over. “For example, last night, I told her that she could only cum from my words.” Then she glances to you before murmuring, “No touching.” You face burns and you did not expect this insight into their sex life, but you are most definitely not opposed to hearing about it. Billie’s dilated eyes look you over hungrily and a whimper nearly escapes your mouth. “You know what sent her over the edge?”

Fuck. Me. Well these panties are definitely ruined. You clear your throat and squeeze your thighs together to get some reprieve before squeaking, “No.” Billie grins and looks to Audrey who is suddenly very quiet but has a small smile playing on her lips. “I told her to imagine someone touching and kissing her in all of her special places. And just before she came, she cried out your name.” Your whole body heats up and you glance at Audrey who looks as red as you feel at the moment. But her eyes are almost completely black, and she licks her lips, clearly aroused.

Then Billie leans towards you and murmurs, “Darling, the thought of you touching her made her have the most intense orgasm she’s had in weeks.” A smile creeps up on your face at the thought of causing that. You haven’t felt this kind of influence and it does a number on your butterfly-filled stomach. Meanwhile, you still can’t manage to speak words, thinking about what Billie just described and wishing you were there. Billie releases Audrey’s hand and leans back, clearly amused at you and Audrey’s very apparent arousal. Then she tuts her tongue before saying, “But Audrey sometimes has problems with her attitude and that has to be addressed.” Then she looks to Audrey and says, “No one likes a bratty girl.” Audrey doesn’t speak and averts her eyes, only making small glances at Billie.

Before Audrey can respond, Billie returns her gaze to you and explains, “Today was one of those days. So now she’s paying the price.” You furrow your brows completely confused. She’s on a date with you…Is that a punishment? Surely not since she had an orgasm at the thought of you. So, you tell Billie, “I-I don’t understand.” She grins and pulls her chair over, so she sits beside you, making Audrey let out a whimper of protest. Then she pulls out her phone and opens an app as she murmurs, “Currently, sweet Audrey has a vibrator in her that I control.” Suddenly, things begin to make more sense and you are in disbelief that this is actually happening. But God you would love to have Billie dominate you too.

Your face flushes and all you can manage to say is, “Oh.” Billie chuckles and you suppress the shiver of arousal that almost makes its presence known. It doesn’t help that her sweet scent now completely fills your nose as she gets even closer to you. Then she says in a softer tone, “I’ll show you how it works.” You watch her press a button and look up as Audrey drops her fork on her plate and takes a deep shuddering breath, closing her eyes as she trembles in pleasure. As this all occurs, the room temperature feels like it has risen significantly.

Billie chuckles and says, “I can turn up the intensity too.” And she slides her finger over her screen to increase the number present. “Billie.” Audrey says in a strained moan and grips the table, clamping her mouth shut. Billie’s dark eyes look to you and she asks, “Should I stop?” Your eyes widen at being the one to determine this. After looking to Audrey’s desperate gaze, you nod and reply, “Yes.” But you can’t deny that there is a part of you that would not have minded teasing Audrey further.

Audrey lets out a sigh of relief as Billie turns the vibrator off. Then she looks to you and breathes, “Thank you.” You look to Billie, unsure if you should reply. Wait—what? How does she determine what you say? She gives you a small nod and you look to Audrey before replying, “You’re welcome.” giving her a small smile, still imagining her crying out your name in the thrashes of her orgasm. Audrey picks up her fork and goes to take her last bite as Billie says, “Audrey and I have been doing this for a couple hours and she does deserve a reward for taking her punishment so well.” At that, Audrey perks up and looks to Billie with a smile on her face. Billie ignores her, looking to you and murmurs, “Now you don’t have to do this at all, but I know Audrey and I would love it if you came over and helped me reward her. Would you be interested?” You look between them and know your answer before Billie finishes her question. “Yes.” You say almost as soon as she finishes speaking.

She eyes you down and asks, “You’re sure? It’s ok if you say no. We won’t be upset.” But there is no doubt in your mind. Looking to them both, you have no idea what the night holds, but you are as sure as hell that you are not leaving this place without them. You give her an affirming nod and try to make yourself sound more confident as you answer, “I want to.” After hearing that, Billie grins and gets the waiter’s attention for the check.

You walk with them out of the restaurant to a luxury car and Billie walks ahead before opening the back door for you. You blush at the gesture and say, “Thanks.” She gives you a smile and makes sure you’re completely in before closing the door. Then she goes around to the other side and opens the other back door for Audrey. Once you’re both in, Billie gets in the driver’s side and turns on the car. But before she goes to leave, Billie turns back and looks to Audrey.

“Since you behaved so well in the restaurant, I’ll let you cum.” At that, Audrey lets out a sigh of relief and says, “Thank you.” But Billie’s smile turns mischievous and she says, “But the vibrator stays on until we get home.” Both of your eyes widen, and you can’t imagine having that on the whole ride home, especially with LA traffic. Audrey goes to say something, but Billie raises her eyebrows and firmly says, “Unless you would rather not cum at all while the vibrator is on?” Audrey fervently shakes her head, tousling her short locks as she cries out, “No! Please No!” Billie goes back to her confident smirk and purrs, “Good girl.” Then she looks to you and you find yourself both terrified and aroused at what she will say to you.

“I have a task for you too, babygirl.” Billie murmurs. Your insides warm as she uses the pet name. Then she bites her lip and chuckles before saying to herself, “Babygirl, hmm, I really like that.” But she goes back to focusing on you and says, “I want you to help Audrey out as she cums. Can you do that for me, babygirl?” Each time she says that pet name, you feel your body buzz in arousal and nod before softly saying, “Yes.” Billie smiles and gives you a wink before she pulls out her phone.

You know when the vibrator is on from Audrey letting out a groan as her head falls back against the plush leather headrest. Meanwhile, Billie chuckles and begins to pull out of the parking lot. You scoot towards the middle spot, looking to Audrey for some guidance. She sits up enough to face you and moans, “Kiss me.” So, you bend down towards her face and she meets you halfway, desperately capturing your lips. You close your eyes and moan at her boldness, getting a taste of her lip gloss as she wraps her arms around you to pull you closer. Meanwhile, your hands come up to cup her face and you part your lips to let her tongue enter. As she does, you let out a sigh, leaning further into her as pleasure takes over.

But after a couple moments, Audrey abruptly breaks from your lips and moans, “Fuck.” However, Billie’s voice warns, “Audrey you know we don’t use such dirty language outside of the bedroom.” You decide a distraction might help so you cup her face and whisper, “It’s ok.” Then you guide her to kiss you once more, partially to help her and partially to feel her lips on yours again.

Audrey’s body trembles and her arms tense up before she parts from your lips again, whimpering, “I-I’m close!” But instead of trying to recapture her lips, you hold her close and murmur against her neck, “Let me see you cum, Audrey.” Then you begin to kiss and suck on her neck, going harder as she lets out mewls and whimpers. Audrey’s body stiffens and she says, “Oh God!” then she shudders and lets her head fall forward onto your shoulder. You feel yourself warm up as she clings to you through her orgasm. Once she seems finished, you back up a little and Audrey lifts her head to look at you. Her sweet face is adorable as she smiles up at you and bites her lower lip. You smile at her blissed-out face and wipe some of her hair off of her sweaty forehead.

“Such a good girl, Audrey.” Billie murmurs making you both look to her. Even though she isn’t addressing you, your stomach flutters at the words “good girl.” While she makes sure to keep facing the road, LA traffic gives her plenty of time to look at you both in the rearview mirror. Then Billie’s eyes look to you and she says, “How about you climb up on Audrey’s lap and explore her body further?” Your face flushes, but you nod and stutter, “O-ok.” Then you hitch up your dress with trembling hands enough to straddle Audrey’s lap. Already her face looks strained and her lust-blown eyes look up to you. Audrey’s arms slide up your back and she pulls you flush against her body.

A squeak escapes your lips, but any other sound is swallowed up by Audrey’s lips on yours. Then instead of going to cup her face like earlier, your shaky hands land on her front and slowly slide down until you meet her breasts. Audrey whines against your lips as you gently squeeze and she thrusts her chest out further, as if encouraging you to take more. While you are the one pleasing her, you find your own pleasure increasing at her encouragement and moans. So, you give her luscious mounds a firmer squeeze and massage them while you roll your hips over hers, losing yourself in the moment. Before long, Audrey breaks from your lips, letting out a cry and you can tell she is about to cum again. So, you lean down to kiss and suck the delicate skin of her neck.

Her hands stroke up and down your back and she holds you even closer as she moans, “That feels so good, darling. Just keep going, just like that, love.” In response, you moan against her neck, continuing your movements and before long Audrey is shuddering through another orgasm more intense than the first one. Billie keeps quiet this time, but you can feel her gaze on you both. As Audrey keeps going, you both keep each other close and you murmur encouraging words while she falls apart in pleasure.

You don’t know how many times Audrey has cummed or even how much time has passed, but she can hardly speak as Billie finally turns off the vibrator. Once she turns off the car, you finally look around and realize you are in a garage. So, you climb off of Audrey’s lap, smoothing down your dress as you give your swollen lips a break. Billie gently opens the back door and leans down to meet Audrey’s glazed over eyes as her hands come up to cup her face. “You ok, sweetheart?” Billie murmurs as her warm brown eyes scan over Audrey.

Audrey gives a lazy smile and speaks in a sleepy, exaggerated voice, “Yes. Y/n was brilliant.” You blush at the compliment and Billie eyes you over with a satisfied smirk. Then she gives you a wink and you feel yourself aroused even more by that movement. Billie returns her gaze to Audrey and murmurs, “Let’s get you inside.” Then she helps Audrey stand and holds her up as they walk towards the door. However, Billie stops them and looks back to you, making sure you’re coming. You climb out of Audrey’s side, shut the door, and dash up to the other side of Audrey so she can get some support from both you and Billie as you walk inside.

You gasp as you step into their luxurious home and look in every direction making them both chuckle as you take everything in. But you don’t slow down, helping Audrey into a kitchen that looks like it’s made for a professional chef. Once there, Billie helps Audrey into a chair and pecks her forehead before murmuring, “I’ll get you some water.” Your eyes follow Billie’s figure as she saunters over to their massive cabinets. That dress hugs her curves just right and you find yourself mesmerized. How is it possible that someone—well actually two people can look so perfect? However, your eyes flick back up to her face as she twists back to look at you and asks, “Would you like a glass of water, babygirl?” You give her a smile and reply, “Yes, please.” Her eyebrow raises and she gives you a smile as she praises, “Good manners.” You smile and blush, looking down in bashfulness.

But as you hear her heels tap against the floor, you venture to look up and get a gorgeous view of her rear as she bends to pick up some ice that dropped on the floor. The way her ass strains against the fabric makes your mouth water.  And as you watch, you lick your lips, feeling your cheeks flush with arousal. However, you get startled by Audrey asking, “Enjoying the view, darling?” Immediately you look over to see Audrey smirking with a knowing look. You find your cheeks burning as you stammer out, “I…well—” but you shut up as Billie comes over to you.

“It’s alright, babygirl,” Billie murmurs as she smirks, and her eyes rake over you. Then her eyes return to yours and she continues, “Audrey gets distracted by my ass all the time.” Then she hands you a cup of water and you smile in a gesture of gratitude, words failing you at the moment. You take a long drink of water, hoping it will cool you off while Billie walks over to give Audrey her water before lighting a cigarette.

Within minutes, Audrey has drunk all of her water and Billie happily refills it for her, holding the cigarette in her mouth as she holds the cup under the water dispenser. The room fills with the smell of smoke and perfume making it sweet and smoky in the best way. As Audrey drinks more, she begins to perk up again. Meanwhile you continue to sip on your water, watching Billie keep a hand on Audrey’s shoulder as if anchoring her. Audrey happily leans into her and Billie continues to smoke her cigarette, looking you over once and awhile.

After letting out a puff of smoke, Billie strokes Audrey’s back as she says, “Audrey, since you did so good, I thought I could teach you to top Y/n.” Your eyes widen and Billie smirks as she takes another drag before purring, “You seem like such a sweet submissive girl, darling. And judging from earlier events, it seems you find being told what to do to be arousing.” Your face flushes and you can’t deny it. In fact, it feels like you can’t speak with your mouth being so dry. Her eyebrow raises and she asks, “Am I wrong?” But she already knows the answer. You shake your head and answer, “No.” Audrey looks up to you with wide, brown eyes and asks, “You’re ok with this?” You bite your lip, a little nervous, but know that this is what you want.

Billie lets out a puff of smoke as she says, “We’ll take good care of you, babygirl. I promise.” Then she smiles and you find yourself smiling back as you look to them both. “Yes, I’m ok with it.” You softly say. Then you swallow and try to sound more confident as you say, “I-I want to do this.” Audrey grins, her eyes sparkling and Billie smirks, putting out her cigarette as you finish your water. Once that’s done, Audrey takes your left hand and Billie takes your right hand before they lead you upstairs.

Another gasp falls out of your lips as you see their enormous bedroom and their hands let go of yours, letting you explore further. As you look over their distinctly feminine wardrobes and nightstands, you find yourself heading towards their California king bed. You run your hand over the silky bedspread, looking to the cushioned headboard and murmur, “This looks beautiful.” Then you look back to see both Audrey and Billie studying you. Your cheeks warm and you let your hand fall to your side before saying, “Right, sorry.” Then you bow your head ready for their instructions.

Billie comes forward and says, “Don’t be sorry. We’re going to take things nice and slow. This should be enjoyable for you.” You nod in understanding, still new to all of this. The corner of Billie’s lips curves into a smirk and she purrs, “Now how about you come over here and sit between us, babygirl.” Oh my. This is really happening. You blush and nod coming closer as they both perch themselves on the end of the bed. Then you hesitantly sit between them, trying to watch both of their faces. Once seated, you can’t help the smile on your face, and they give reassuring smiles back. Then Billie cups your face with one of her hands and guides you to look to her.

Each time you are close to Billie, you feel like you get swallowed up by her warm, brown eyes. They are a touch lighter than Audrey’s and remind you of milk chocolate. And her touch is always soft and gentle. You find yourself leaning towards her hand as her thumb lightly strokes over your cheekbone making her smirk. “Since Audrey got to kiss you all the way home, I think I should get some sugar too, hmm?” Billie purrs. You giggle at her comment and nod. So, her other hand comes up to the side of your face and she leans towards you, her lips melting against yours.

You bring your hands to cup Billie’s face and mimic her movements, making her moan into your mouth. And although Billie is much slower in kissing you than Audrey was, Billie’s lips and tongue have a dominance that make you unravel. You taste the vanilla sweetness of her gloss this time with the slightest hint of smoke, but that doesn’t bother you. It turns you on. Goosebumps pop up over your back and arms as you feel your hair get brushed over your shoulder and lips press against the nape of your neck. The feeling makes you shiver in arousal and you moan into Billie’s lips as Audrey begins to kiss and suck at the skin, making Billie smirk against you. Audrey continues to suck and nibble at the skin causing you to whimper at the hint of pain, but you can’t deny the wetness rapidly forming between your legs.

Eventually, Billie releases your lips and leaves a line of wetness as she kisses down your neck. Once she gets to the sensitive bend of your neck, her teeth nip at your skin, making you gasp her name, eyes closing in pleasure. You always heard that it was a sensitive spot but feeling her mark you there was better than you could have imagined. Then your fingers find residence in Billie’s remarkably soft hair to keep her close. You smile to yourself, knowing now that you were right about her silky hair.

Both Audrey and Billie continue to kiss and mark you from both sides when you feel the zipper of your dress slowly being pulled down. You twist your neck as much as Billie will allow and look back at Audrey. Her mouth leaves you and she smiles up at you before she leans up to kiss your lips. Then she pulls the zipper down the rest of the way. You shiver at the feeling of your skin being exposed and suddenly feel a little self-conscious about the scar on your shoulder.

Audrey parts from your lips so her dark chocolate eyes can meet yours and she asks, “You ok, darling?” You inwardly try to shake off that concern and give a small smile before replying, “Yeah.” She smiles up at you and you feel your stomach flip. But you get distracted by Billie’s lips leaving your neck. So, you look towards her and feel her breath fan over your face as she murmurs, “Can you lift your arms for us, babygirl?” You bite your lip to keep from moaning as you feel the heat of her body radiate onto yours. Then you nod and do as she requested.

Two pairs of hands gently lift the dress up over your head and Audrey leaves to set it on their chest of drawers. You let out a quiet whimper from the cool air behind you and your first reaction is to cross your arms and curl into yourself. Billie gently takes your hands and asks, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Your whole body burns as you look down from her questioning gaze and stutter, “I-It’s stupid, but,” you stop yourself and take a deep breath, forcing yourself to look to her before continuing, “My scars are big and ugly, and,” you take another deep breath before saying, “I-I just don’t want you to be disgusted when you see how big they are.” Billie gently shakes her head and moves her hands up to cup your face with a warm smile to greet you.

“Hey.” She says in a soft and soothing tone. Your eyes stop shifting down and you look directly to her. Her thumbs gently brush over the skin of your face and you feel warmth flow through you as she murmurs, “You have no reason to be embarrassed or disgusted by your scars.” Then she pecks your lips before asking, “You remember how amazed Audrey was when she saw your scars?” By now Audrey is back behind you and she rests her chin on your shoulder, soothingly rubbing your arm as she says, “I still am.” You smile, remembering the first time you met Audrey on set and nod. Billie grins and says, “You are not ugly. Far from it, babygirl.” Then her hands leave you and she says, “Ok?” You look between them and Audrey gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Ok.” You softly reply, sitting up like you were.

Audrey runs her lips over your bumpy shoulder while purring, “So beautiful.” Then her fingers unhook your bra and Billie helps you shrug it off before you slip off your panties. Oh God. This is really happening. Billie hums appreciatively while Audrey can’t keep her lips off of you and you are sure there are marks all over you. Then your whole-body flushes as they both kiss and compliment how beautiful you look. And as they both give attention to your almost completely scarred upper leg and side, you find yourself feeling comfortable again.

After a moment, they both come up so they face you and Billie looks past you to Audrey, stroking your arm as she asks, “What would you like her to do for you, Audrey?” You look back to Audrey and see her brown eyes studying you. And you feel nerves and excitement as you think of everything you could do. She keeps quiet, nibbling on her lower lip for a moment before she smiles and says, “I want her to eat me out.” Your cheeks flush at the request and Billie asks, “Can you do that for Audrey, babygirl?” drawing your attention. You look to her and reply, “I-I can try.” Billie smiles and murmurs, “Good girl. How about you get down on your knees for us.” So, you slip off the bed onto their plush carpet and shift so you’re on your knees.

Audrey makes quick work of removing her clothes while Billie grabs some pillows to help prop Audrey up. Then, just as quick, Audrey opens her legs and exposes herself to you. Your eyes widen as you look to her soaked, bare pussy. Wow she is like a goddess as she looks over you, body flushed with desire. But you pause, uncertain You’ve seen videos of women doing this, but it’s different now that you’re the one doing it and her pleasure relies on you doing well. You scoot a little closer, knowing what you promised; however you pause when Billie kneels beside you and asks, “Need a little help?” You blush as you reply, “Y-yes please.” Billie smiles and says, “I’ll guide you.” You inwardly let out a sigh of relief, glad she will be there. So, you turn back to face Audrey and Billie comes a little closer before murmuring in your ear, “The first thing to do is to get the vibrator out.” Then she takes the hand closest to her and moves it up to Audrey’s dripping core.

“Go ahead and rub her clit with your thumb. That’ll help her relax.” You rest the palm of your hand on her mound and bring down your thumb to dip into her folds, slowly moving it until you feel her little pearl. Audrey lets out a moan, making you smile up at her as you continue to move your thumb over her sensitive nub. Billie keeps close enough that her hair brushes your shoulder and neck and her hot breath on your ear makes you shiver as she murmurs, “Good girl. Now use your other hand to pull out the vibrator. But don’t pull too hard.” You nod in understanding and bring your other hand up. Fortunately, the end of the vibrator is visible, so you take it with the tips of your fingers and increase the movements of your thumb as you begin to gently pull.

Audrey’s neck and chest are as pink as her face as she moans and shifts her hips. You notice the vibrator is much wider than you thought and the sounds that result from you taking it out are obscene, but turn you on nonetheless. Meanwhile Billie continues to murmur soft words of encouragement as you continue to pull. Finally, the vibrator leaves Audrey’s hole and she lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing into the bed. Your eyes widen as you finally see how big the device is and Billie says, “I’ll take care of that.” So, you hand the dripping vibrator to her and wait for further instructions.

For now, Billie sets it to the side and comes to face you before murmuring “Now it’s time for you to give Audrey a special greeting.” You eagerly nod, making Billie chuckle and she says, “I want you to give her pussy lips a kiss. Then you can start to lick with your tongue.” You lick your lips in anticipation and say, “Ok.” Then you turn back, so your face is level with her weeping slit. Well here goes nothing. You bend close and press your lips against her bare ones, pausing for a moment before dipping your tongue in to taste her.

Immediately you close your eyes and moan into Audrey. She tastes sweeter than you thought. “You like how she tastes?” Billie asks. You pull back a little to see her smirking. “Yes.” You breathe, licking the remnants off your lips. However, you realize how slow you’re being and turn to look up at Audrey. “Sorry I’m taking so long.” You softly say. Billie pets your hair and soothes, “It’s ok. This is a time for you to investigate her body. Audrey can be a good girl and wait.” Then Billie looks towards Audrey with her eyebrows raised. “Right, dear?” she asks. Audrey’s legs tremble, but she gives a half smile while replying, “Of course.” Then you bend close and begin to lick her pussy once more.

As you go, you look up to Audrey, watching her reactions while you suck and lick at her clit. You venture to enter your tongue into her and Audrey moans, “Yes, that feels so good, darling.” Arousal flames in your stomach as she praises you and makes you work your tongue harder. She continues to moan praises, some incoherent while Billie keeps your hair back. The way her fingers brush through your hair down your back makes you tingle all over and the arousal between your own legs continues to build.

After a couple minutes, Billie leans in close to your ear and says in a low tone, “It’s ok to go harder. Audrey likes it rough.” At that you pause, unsure, and back away to face Billie. Audrey lets out a whine, but quickly goes silent as Billie shoots her a warning look. Then Billie’s face turns gentle before she looks back to you. You blush as you ask, “Could you…I mean, would you be willing to help me?” Then your eye contact falters as you look down and explain, “I just…I wouldn’t want to hurt her.” Billie’s fingers brush against your cheek, making you glance up to see her smiling. “I can help you, babygirl.” Then her hand leaves you and she says, “Go back to licking her.” And you eagerly do.

After a couple moments of getting your rhythm down again, Billie leans close, her hair tickling your skin as she softly says, “Now I want to you run your teeth over her clit.” Teeth? Isn’t that…harsh? You glance at Billie out of the corner of your eye, skeptical. But you listen, letting your teeth lightly graze over the swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately Audrey cries out, “Yes! Harder!” Ok. That’s unexpected, but Billie is right about Audrey liking it rough. Your cheeks warm at the praise and you listen, adding more pressure.

Audrey’s fingers come down to entangle in your hair as she pulls your face even closer. “Fuck! Just like that, darling!” Audrey moans. You smile as you keep going and Billie huskily whispers in your ear, “Now I want you to enter two of your fingers into her.” At this point, you can’t say anything, so you nod and lift your dominant hand. Then you wet your pointer and middle fingers in her juices before slowly easing them in.

You moan as you feel her warmth greedily take your fingers in, her hips bucking up for you to move faster. She groans and clenches down on your fingers and it feels indescribable. You are connected to Audrey in one of the most intimate ways possible and it is amazing. Meanwhile you continue to abuse her swollen clit with your mouth. One of Billie’s hands takes your wrist and she murmurs, “I’ll get you going.” Then she pulls your hand back until your fingers are nearly out of Audrey before slamming them in even deeper. Audrey moans and curses as Billie continues that motion, speeding up your hand until it moves at a brutally fast pace.

Billie murmurs in your ear, “I want you to keep going just like this.” Then she releases your wrist and you follow her instructions as Audrey begins to cry out and pull you closer. All of this feels surreal and you wonder if this is a dream. But Audrey’s nails digging into your scalp keep you awake in the best way. Billie pecks your cheek before leaving your side and standing up. You watch her walk around the bed until she stands over Audrey with her arms crossed. “Doing alright, sweetheart?” Billie murmurs with a smirk, making Audrey take her cries down a notch. Her cheeks are dark red as she answers, “Y-yes.” Billie leans closer and her one hand wraps around Audrey’s throat as she purrs, “Are you glad to be topping someone?” You moan into Audrey’s cunt as you watch her squeeze the hand around Audrey’s throat while leaning down to kiss her.

Audrey and Billie kiss each other while you look to them, keeping your pace. Then Billie says, “Why don’t you take a look at that sweet girl who is making you feel so good?” Her hand remains on Audrey’s throat as Audrey sits up and her darkened eyes look to you. You whimper under both of their gazes and Billie soothingly strokes Audrey’s cheeks and hair as she helps her lay back down. Billie backs up and murmurs, “But you’re still my girl, right?” Audrey arches her back and goes to say yes, but you slam your fingers in extra hard, making her cry out, “Oh! Fuck! Y-yes, Billie.” Even though Audrey doesn’t seem to have any thoughts besides pulling you close against her, there is no doubt Billie saw the mischievous glint in your eyes. You are sweet, but you’ve also got some spice too and Billie gives you a knowing smirk.

Then Billie releases her hold on Audrey’s neck, and you can’t help but wonder what that would feel like on you. Would it be frightening? Maybe a little, but you know she would never hurt you. She saunters out of your line of vision, swaying her hips dramatically as she is sure you are watching. Which you are. Even though your arm is tiring out, you keep up the pace, encouraged by Audrey’s moans and whimpers. Not long after, you feel Billie kneel beside you, but gasp as you feel her bare body rub against yours. And if you weren’t ready to be fucked before, you are definitely ready now. Then her lips start to kiss the top of your shoulder and she says between pecks, “You’re doing so good, babygirl…Listening to my instructions so well…I knew you would make such a sweet submissive.” But her compliments get cut off by Audrey whimpering, “I’m close!” Billie’s lips leave your shoulder, but she keeps close to you, her fingers stroking your hair and back once more.

“Do you want to cum, sweetheart?” Billie asks. Audrey sits up, her eyes nearly pitch black as she moans, “Yes. Billie—shit—Billie please let me cum. Please, please, please,” but her words die in her throat as Billie says, “Shh.” Meanwhile you are quickly beginning to lose momentum. Mind over matter, mind over matter. Hand do not fail me now.

Billie leans close to your ear and soothes, “We’re almost done, angel. I want you to curl your fingers up and towards yourself. Like this.” Then she shows you with her fingers and you mimic the motion. Immediately Audrey’s channel clenches up and you watch her head fall back as she moans, “Billie!” But your hand unintentionally begins to slow. Billie notices and says, “Ah, keep up your pace. You can do it.” If Billie says you can, you can. Simple as that. So, you speed up your movements to Billie’s set pace as Audrey continues to beg to cum.

But Billie shakes her head and says, “Not yet.” Audrey lets out something between a cry and growl, but listens. Then Billie leans close to you and whispers, “When I give her permission, I want you to keep going until I say stop.” She doesn’t even have to ask if you will because you both know you will do anything Billie tells you to do.

As Audrey’s legs violently tremble, Billie purrs, “Cum for me, my darling.” Audrey does so, letting out a loud cry and you watch her face contort from the strain of holding back to the overwhelming pleasure of release. You try to capture every sweet drop that pours out, but some gets smeared onto your lips and cheeks as she continues. Her nails dig into your scalp as she holds you close and you stay true to your wordless promise, continuing to lick and fuck Audrey with your fingers until Billie says to stop.

By that point, Audrey has let you go and the first thing you do is withdraw your overworked hand and let it fall to get some blood flowing to it. But as your swollen sensitive lips leave Audrey, Billie gently tugs your hair to pull you up to her. You practically fall into her warm, smooth chest as her arms hold you close, and she latches onto your lips. You hang on for the ride and let Billie’s tongue taste Audrey’s juices that linger on your lips and cheeks. Before long, Billie pulls back just enough for you to catch your breath and she moans, “You taste so good.” Then she chuckles as you give her a lazy smile. And you would say anything to get her to laugh like that again.

Her nose slides over yours as she murmurs, “I’ll give your lips a little break.” Then she bends to kiss and suck at your already sensitive neck. You let out a weak whimper at feeling her teeth, but expose your neck further, making Billie moan against your neck. Although there are some sensitive spots, it’s a hurts so good feeling. Goosebumps come up all over your skin as you feel her hands slide down to cup your breasts. Your hands move up her smooth back and you keep her close to you. Then her nimble fingers go on to pinch your nipples and you moan her name, arching towards her.

Billie chuckles against your neck before sucking another spot and rolling your sensitive buds between her fingers until they feel like little pebbles. Her laughter makes you feel weak in the knees and you are glad you have a sturdy grip on her. As her fingers wander further down and dance across your navel, you let out a whine and spread your knees as a way of directing. But you’re still unable to put exactly what you want in words. You want too many things to think straight. Billie chuckles and comes up and uses one arm to pull you against her, kissing your lips as her fingers venture lower. Your whole-body trembles as she ghosts her finger over your slit. “Oh, B-biliie.” You gasp, parting from her lips as your hips move with her finger. Her lips brush against yours as she murmurs, “You, my dear, are soaking wet.” As she finishes her sentence, her fingers dip further in, making you moan and your forehead rests against hers.

There is an audible sound as her fingers spread around your wetness and Billie says over your whimpers, “Shit, you’re dripping, my darling.” But then her fingers leave you and you perk up, letting out a whine of protest. Billie shushes you, kissing the corner of your mouth before she backs up enough to suck her fingers clean. After she looks to your distressed face and murmurs, “I know you need to be touched, babygirl, but do you think you could eat me out?” Oh. Oh no. You look down and nibble on your lip, torn by your selfish desire and wanting to please Billie.

Billie cups your face and soothes, “I won’t make you this time. But I can assure you that Audrey and I will make sure to take good care of you after this.” As you look into her warm eyes, you know you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to taste her pussy. And the idea of pleasing her is enough to send you over that ledge. So, you nod and say, “I’ll do it.” Her brown eyes look you over and she asks, “You’re sure?” You give her a smile and nod. If getting a taste of Audrey was that good, tasting Billie would be an amazing experience as well. 

Billie pecks your nose and says, “I want you to lay back for me.” You gratefully get off of your knees and lay back against the luxurious, cushioned carpet. Billie smiles down at you and lifts her leg so she can straddle your face. As she looks down at you, your breath catches in your throat. “You ready, babygirl?” Am I? Yes, hell yes I am. You smile up at her and reply, “Yes.” So, she adjusts herself before slowly lowering her pussy onto your mouth.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in future works!

[starlene]

A long, itemized, soul-searching list of complaints

...related to theatre in Finland, and my personal relationship to it.

This has been brewing in my mind for a while, and I have to write this out somewhere or I think I’ll start wailing in frustration. I’m putting it on Tumblr, because I feel like now is simply not the right time to start airing my complaints about the Finnish theatre scene in spaces that people from said scene actually visit. But I still have to try to get this out of my mind.

So.

Seeing how theatres have been closed for over four months now, I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on my own relationship to Finnish musical theatre. For the past decade, it’s been the thing I’ve been the most interested in – which is why it feels so saddening to me to see where the whole scene seems to be going.

You see, for a country with only 5,5 million inhabitants, and only 18 people per square kilometer, Finland has a ridiculously robust network of state-subsidized theatres. There are dozens of them, most big and mid-sized towns have one. So far, so good, right? But then, when you look into this a little bit deeper, and figure out how musicals fit into the equation...

Well, here’s how it looks like:

1) Musicals are widely regarded as the cash cows of Finnish theatre. Put on Fiddler on the Roof and you’re guaranteed to get butts in seats. The most popular theatrical productions in this country are almost always musicals.

2) In so-called intellectual circles, musicals are widely regarded as worthless drivel that should not benefit from any public funding.

3) During the past... dunno, five years or so, a handful of our biggest theatres have been getting into this ridiculous ours-is-bigger-than-yours type of competition with their musical productions. They buy the rights to some mediocre new musical that ran on Broadway for a year and a half, promote it as a huge Broadway success story that is finally being brought to Finland, and come up with some way to make it bigger or otherwise more special than any Finnish musical production before – be it the biggest ensemble, the flashiest special effects, the most famous composer visiting the premiere, the most accordions added to the original orchestration (added accordion has seriously been used as a selling point over here)... And the productions themselves tend to be these replica-ish-but-not-quite, professionally made but artistically bland and devoid-of-any-deeper-meaning spectacles.

4) The ticket prices for these big musical productions have shot through the roof. I’m talking about increases up to 80% in ten years – increases that simply cannot be explained away with the overall rate of inflation. I’m talking tickets to Finnish state-subsidized musicals costing the same as tickets to Finnish commercial musicals (well, granted, we only have one theatre that’s making big scale commercial productions – but it’s not a good look that their prices match the state-funded prices), tickets to Swedish commercial musicals costing less than tickets to Finnish state-funded ones.

5) Did I mention a big percentage of the funding for Finnish arts comes from our state-owned betting agency? In practice, that means a big chunk of the arts funding comes from the pockets of poor people addicted to gambling. Seriously. 50% of the profit the agency makes comes from the most active 5% of gamblers, and almost 25% of the profit comes from people that have a gambling addiction. There is also some evidence suggesting the agency has deliberately been placing the majority of their slot machines in poor neighbourhoods. There is talk about dismantling this whole thing, but it’s a really difficult issue, since no one really has a realistic idea for an alternative way of funding the arts.

...and the more I think about this nasty circle of things I’ve written about above, the worse it makes me feel.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m 100% for state-funded arts, and I 100% believe musical theatre is a form of art on par with any other. But the way the funding works right now, the way the biggest theatres keep increasing the prices and, thus, pricing everyone who’s not well-off out... It really makes me furious. My family has always been well-to-do, but I could not have had the experiences I’ve had earlier in my life if I was born ten years later. I would not have the money to see all the musicals I got to see as a teenager if I was a teenager now. (And then they wonder why young people don’t seem to be interested in theatre.)

Of course, I know that no one needs theatre to survive. It’s a good thing to have, but it’s not at a matter of life and death, far from it. And that’s another big thing I’ve been thinking about. This spring and summer, four months and counting without theatre, has shown me that personally, I truly do not need theatre to survive. If it’s not available, I’ll just do something else.

So now that certain theatre people have been giving these statements about the importance of the arts and making the audience trust going to the theatre again despite corona (which is... it’s such utter nonsense, it’s not in your hands if we get a second wave or not – if anything, reopening theatres makes it more likely we will – and if we do, nothing you do or say can make us “trust” going to the theatre since it will not be safe to do so and that’s that)... I just can’t help thinking, are you actually as essential to our society as you like to pretend you are? Are you actually offering a public, accessible service? (On top of all this, add the fun fact that only 50% of Finnish arts organizations that are required by law to have an equality plan actually have it, and you get a picture of how important being equal and accessible actually is for the arts in this country.)

And once you see this stuff, really see it, it’s really hard to unsee it and to go back advocating for Finnish musical theatre.

It’s like the big theatres are hearing the criticism that musicals should not be subsidized at all, and to debunk it, they do exactly what the critics have been saying they shouldn’t do. I do love a big musical production every now and then – but I super do not love getting one every single year in all the big theatres, if that means that prices will continue to rise, and that more and more people who don’t have a lot of money to spare can’t see musicals at all. I do love a Broadway musical every now and then – but I super do not love that in 99% of the cases, the people in charge don’t even consider the world of musicals that exists outside of Broadway. (I also hate the nonsense argument of pitting original Finnish musicals and Broadway musicals against each other, but that’s a rant for another day.)

And in the end, I feel like the Finnish theatre scene in general is out of touch with reality. We have things like climate change and inequality and whatnot going on in here, and for the most part, it seems like they do not even notice – or if they do, it’s an opportunity for them to look good, not to do good. Common enough in corporate world, sure, but for a field that prides itself for being so humane and essential to human survival... yeah.

Of course, I’ve been personally let down by certain aspects and people of the Finnish theatre world, which partially caused my burnout, which in turn has had some severe repercussions I keep battling with to this day. I’ll be the first to admit that this experience will probably always colour my views on Finnish theatre as a whole, and if everything had taken a different turn some years ago, I likely would not feel this bitter now.

But as it is, I’m going to live my life with the memory of that disappointment and the shadow of that burnout, and I don’t think they take away the validity of my criticism.

It just feels a bit rough. I’ve been trying to speak for Finnish musical theatre for a decade, I’ve cared about it deeply, and it’s given me plenty of happy memories too – so, to examine the whole system, and to end up with this deeply cynical outlook of it all... it’s a bit sad. I know losing interest in things you used to like can be related to depression and things like that – but what if this is not that, what if this is how I’d be feeling in any case?

It’s just a bit sad, I guess.

It’s not that there are no directors or actors whose work I’m interested in anymore, there certainly are, and there are exciting things coming up. It’s just... with everything I’ve mentioned above, and especially when you remember the ongoing pandemic, it doesn’t feel so important right now.

I actually feel a bit queasy thinking of going to theatre in the fall since it doesn’t feel 100% safe. I really need to think that through before I decide to go or not to go. I mean – I know the corona situation in Finland is looking very good right now, and maybe this is just the future we’ll be living in from now on, but at the same time, the chance of being the person who got sick because she went to see West Side Story or whatever... Yeah. Doesn’t sound too good, does it.

So yeah, just wanted to write all this out somewhere. I know the arts have been hit really hard because of corona, so I can’t really go around criticising them in public right now, even if they 100% deserve it – now is simply not the right time. But all this is making me feel so conflicted and confused, seeing how much of my own life has been and still is entwined with these things, and not knowing what to make of it all, not knowing how to reframe the place Finnish musical theatre has in my in my life and in my heart.

Thank you for reading. If you have any thoughts, I’d love to hear them.