#you make me wanna

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Make Me Wanna 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend’s dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You duck your head just before you can glance off the metal. Walter shoves you into the passenger seat gruffly as you drunkenly gold against his strength. You dizzy pull your feet inside as he grips the door and barely get them out of the way before he slams it. You shake your head, try to break free of the haze. Ugh, too much vodka.

The car jostles as he rips open the driver's door and the axel dips beneath his weight. He growls as he snaps the door shut and ram the keys into the ignition. He lets the engine idle as he shifts in his seat. He slips his phone out and taps with his thumb. He could crack the screen. You grasp your own cell and check for messages.

He huffs and drops his phone in the cupholder. He pulls the seatbelt across his burly figure and clicks it into place. He glares over at you as he slaps a hand around the ridge steering wheel, "buckle up."

You obey. The nightstand taken a rotten twist and the sooner it's over the better. You just need to find Faye. You do up your belt and grab your phone again. You key in a message without a care for typos. Where is she? You suspect she might be too distracted to answer.

He reverses out sharply and you lean into the door. You look up, the streetlights glaring in your vision, then another light draws your attention. His phone is still bright. You squint at the map on the screen and the dot pulsing a couple blocks away.

"What the hell?" You bend to see clearer and he resches over to shove you back against the seat. "You're tracking her?"

"None of your business, " he sneers. "That's fucked up," you say. "You got a nasty mouth. Now I know where she got that from."

"I didn't raise her," you scoff. "Why the hell am I here if you got GPS on her--"

"Because for once you're gonna face consequences for your actions," he growls as he turns the corner without slowing down.

"Stop the car," you demand.

"Shut up."

"Stop!" You pull on the door handle futilely, "let me out."

"Don't do that," he barks as he keeps his foot on the gas.

"Let me out!" You raise your voice, "let me the fuck out, Walter."

"Mr. Marshall," he retorts meanly. "Stop fucking around."

"I said. Let. Me. Out." You hit his shoulder with your fist and the wheels swerve. He slams on the brakes and you lurch back in your seat.

"Hey!" He roars and reaches over to grab your wrist. He twists and you whine. "You're gonna get us fucking killed."

"No, you are."

"You ever shut that mouth," he sneers as you try to free your arm, only further stressing the tendon. You whimper and bring your other hand up to try to peel away his fingers.

"Let me go." He huffs and releases you.

You recoil and rub your wrist as you pout. You're quiet as you evaluate the throbbing in your muscles.

"You know, I don't think you'd want someone treating Faye like this," you murmur.

"Shut up," he mutters as he eases onto the gas.

"No, stop, I'm getting out."

"You're not going anywhere," he quickly builds speed again. "And you're not going to talk about my daughter again."

"Well... you put your hands on me. What kind of man--"

"I'd hate to think of the boys you call men," he spits.

You reel at his inference. Is he calling you a slut? He would laugh at the truth.

"Whatever," you cross your arms and sit back, fingers still tingling.

He drives on in silence, only his grumbles underlining his slow breaths. You don't get it. How is it always your fault? You got better grades than Faye, you did extracurriculars, it isn't your fault you couldn't afford tuition.

You don't spill any of these gripes to Walter. He would care. He doesn't care. He just needs someone to blame besides his precious daughter. If only he knew how many times you kept her from worse mistakes.

You peer out the window, yellow blocks of light flicking in between the dark. You had a bad feeling about tonight. You saw right through Faye. You knew she wasn’t coming for you. These days, your hang outs rarely end up being just that. You just don’t know why. She’s changed.

Or maybe she’s outgrowing you. She’s in college and you’re working down at the diner, scrounging tips to pay your mother’s rent. You slump down as the drunkenness coaxes your self-pity to the surface.

Your eyes wander across the dashboard. It’s not old and grimy like your mother’s used Chrysler. It has bluetooth and lights and the heat works. There isn’t a crack down the plastic and it doesn’t smell like cigarettes.

It was easier in high school to pretend you belonged with Faye. You still had that layer of naivete that made you believe things could get better for you. Well, life’s begun and you’re just the same as you ever were.

You’re rattled suddenly as he shakes you, his large hand on your shoulder, “wake up.”

“Hey,” you shrug him off, “I’m awake.” You swat him away again, “don’t touch me.”

He blows out between his lips and snorts, bringing his hand back to the wheel. You sit up and turn your eyes back out the window. He’s just another person in your life who thinks they can mistreat you. His temper tantrum is nothing to you, just like you’re nothing to him.

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[lickmylundqvist]

S

I

R

[blackmensuited]

[aaliyahunleashed]

March 1st, 2022 - Usher shares his confessions.

These are my confessions

On this day, Usher shares with E! Hollywood News that he WISH he asked Aaliyah out! How do YOU guys feel about this?

He starts off saying, "I never told anyone this" and says that he wish he said something to Aaliyah.

"She was a really, really close friend of mine for a small amount of time," he continued... and then we just kind of disconnected." - Usher shared.

Watch the video for more of what he has to say on the subject!

Now I can't stop thinking about Aaliyah when I hear the song "You Make Me Wanna".

Before anything began between us, you were like my best friend The one I used to run and talk to when me and my girl was having problems You used to say it'll be okay Suggest little nice things I should do And when I'd go home at night and lay my head down All I seemed to think about was you - Usher "You Make Me Wanna" August 1997.

No, I'm not saying the song was written with Aaliyah in mind! I'm just saying when I hear these lyrics, I myself can't help but think of Aaliyah.

[fyeahusheraymond]

Usher performs You Make Me Wanna… and My Boo at Lovers & Friends Festival (2022)

[scorpionextdooor]

[afrotumble]

You Make Me Wanna… Madison Calley x Usher

[sirlonius]

"I tried, I tried to fight it, but the feelings just too strong..."

[salamispots]

dream wip

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You Make Me Wanna 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, best friend's dad trope other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You stumble through the open doors into the cool night air. The sweat on your skin chills you as your warmth melds with the evening temperature. The pulse of the club thrums through you as it follows you out, barely contained by the walls. 

You glance at the bouncer as you pass. He’s uninterested as he peers into the shadows across the street. You pull at the front of your shirt, airing it out as the heat of alcohol nips in your cheeks. You’re not in too deep. Three vodkas and water between to even it out. 

You sigh and lean against the brick, pushing your head back as you let your eyes close. There’s a tick in your cheek as you cross your arms. For all her nagging for you to come with her, Faye hadn’t been much of a wing woman. Maybe that’s what she’d expected of you. You don’t know, you just came to dance off the long week. 

Before you came out, you couldn’t separate her from the guy she was batting her lashes at. She swore before you came that she wasn’t looking to hook-up. Not again. Last time was just too weird. And you agreed, last time was the final straw. You’re done with those awkward encounters. 

You open your eyes and set your head straight. You would think she would be a lot more cautious. Considering where she came from. Or maybe that’s why she’s so reckless. She’s a bit too old for teenage rebellion. 

You stand and roll your shoulders. You’ll go back in and entice her away from that creep with a shot. You’re going home together. Just like she promised. 

“How did I know you’d be here?” The deep rumble has your ankle bending as you take a step, your clunk heel turning sideways. You know that voice, all too well. Fuck. “Where is she?” 

You face Walter as he marches up on you. Better known to you and all Faye’s cohort as ‘Mr. Marshall’. The no-nonsense detective who never has a good word or a smile for anyone. You’d hate to have a father like him. He makes you thankful you don’t have one. 

“Inside,” you shrug and go to spin away. 

“You just left her in there?” He snarls as he closes in from behind. 

“I’m going back in--” 

He grabs you and spins you to face him, his large hand tight around your arm. Despite the new strands of grey in his curls, illuminated by the lights of the marque, and the fine lines around his eyes, he’s still an imposing man. And strong. You wiggle, trying to tug away from his grasp. 

“Eh,” one of the bouncers calls over, “let her go.” 

He huffs but does as he’s told. He doesn’t want a scene, not that he couldn’t flip his badge out and swing his weight around. He never seems to shy away from that. 

“I came out to get some air. I didn’t leave her--” 

“No, but you brought her here,” he looks up, “that’s more than enough.” 

“I came here with her, I didn’t bring her here--” 

“Whatever. This shit might fly with your deadbeat mother but it won’t get far with me. Faye never started sneaking out until you came around--” 

You scoff, “she’s twenty-one. She’s an adult. And trust me, she was doing a lot before I ever met her.” 

“Take me to her,” he growls, “now.” 

You roll your eyes and the rumble stays in his throat. You wave him off and pivot on your heel. You clop forward and show your stamped wrist to the bouncer. They stop Walter and he sighs. You don’t wait for him as he stops and shuffles around. You don’t look back, knowing his badge will gain him easy entry. 

He catches up with you as spectrum of blues and purples haze over you from the coloured bulbs. He presses close as drunken clubgoers crowd around you. You search along the bar where you last saw Faye. 

“She was with some guy--” 

“Some guy?” He blusters, “are you serious?” 

You take out your phone and key in a message to her. You hit send and pop your head back up, scanning the writhing bodies. You don’t want to stay here with Walter, you can feel his anger roiling off of him. It would be better if you could find Faye first and sneak out of there. 

“I’ll check the ladies,” you offer. 

He doesn’t say a word. You set off towards the bathroom and sense him behind you, following you. Great. He trails you all the way down the hallway and only stops outside the black door. You push inside, doubting you’ll find Faye but all too happy to get space from that overbearing grump. 

You don’t bother checking the shoes under the stalls or the other faces in the mirror. You take out your gloss and redo your lips. You fix the collar on your cropped polo and turn to check the curve of your ass in your leggings. You look good even if your eyes are bit glassy. 

You look at your phone again. No answer. You can’t hide in here forever and you somehow don’t think a sign will stop Walter forever. The vodka fills you with doubt. You wish you were sober. 

You drag yourself back through the door and shrug at Walter as he meets you with a furrowed brow. 

“Not in there,” you say, “she’s probably dancing--” 

“You know, you won’t get far in life spending all your time in pits like this. You should go to school, grow up.” 

You ignore him. You’ve heard a million lectures from him, usually aimed at his daughter, but you don’t have to listen to him. He isn’t your father. He doesn’t know shit about you even if he’s profiled you as a bad egg. 

Your phone buzzes and you stop at the end of the hallways. His arm hits yours and you squint at the screen. He leans in, reading over your shoulder. 

“Shit!” He snarls sharply. 

The drunken message makes you cringe, ‘see u 2morrow. Got a hottie wit a botty.’ 

“Come on,” he grabs your elbow again. This time there’s no escape as he marches you across the cramped dancefloor. 

“Walt-- Mr. Marshall, what are you doing--” 

“Finding my goddamn daughter.” 

“But--” 

“But nothing. This is your fault. You’re not going anywhere until she’s home,” he sneers as you stumble in time with his long strides. “Then I never wanna see your face again.” 

[tha-wrecka-stow]

The Album

The Single(s)

[u3pxx]

chat i dont think i can explain this one

[blackmensuited]

[devilfruitdyke]

we need to destroy the idea that girls should wear makeup. normalize bare faces on prom queens and flower girls and cheerleaders. no products at all instead of '7 product simple makeup routine.' no more 10 step skincare and regular facials and dermablading and gua sha just to be comfortable with yr natural face. i want to see eye bags on the funny librarian and acne on the swim coach and wrinkles on all our adult role models. i want to see a 16 year old girl that has never tried putting on eyeshadow. i want to see a 7 year old girl who doesn't have to go out and buy powder for her dance recital. i want to see trans women and girls everywhere to never have to wear makeup, regardless of how well they 'pass.' no more 'contouring to look masc' either. a post-beauty industry world is possible

reblogs are on but if you bring up the stage makeup point that i have addressed three times yr blocked on sight ☹️

[fyeahusheraymond]

Usher performs You Make Me Wanna… with the original dance break from the music video at the Lovers & Friends Music Festival (2022)