but i still look pretty in this dress

So, I was thinking about how Anxiety pretty much looks the part of JD, but JD isn’t so much just about dressing in black as he is about delusions of grandeur; a sort of flowery, dramatic way of speaking; and grand, romantic(ally twisted) gestures that result in the death of whatever is troubling his beloved.

Originally posted by darude-sanderstorm

(Although I still maintain that Roman would make a good Heather C., too.)

anonymous asked:

i dont like hating on the show but honestly... they left out arya taking weasel even though she knew it will risk her, hotpie and gendry's life, they left out arya giving water to dying men from robbs army, they left out arya in harrenhal godswood, they left out arya feeling bad bc she ruined a pretty dress lady smallwood gave her, and people still wonder why show-only fans only see arya as a "badass child killer"

what i’ve been thinking about for the last day or so is “ok, what remains for arya that even stems from all of her book arc,” and the answer is…who knows.  given some of the leak spoilers there are some fronts about which i’m optimistic and others about which i want to punch a wall, but for the most part, i look at the adaptational choices around making show!arya and go “this? this is what you chose to focus on?”

but then again show!arya has never been book!arya not even in season 1 so there we are.

it makes me mad it makes me sad i’m tired.

i still do not understand what possessed so many well-respected actors to do the spy kids movies like

did they pay really well? did you want these beautiful, terrible movies to be a blemish on your career forever?? why

 antonio banderas did so many high-profile movies then in spy kids he looked like this

tony shalhoub has won multiple emmys but he did spy kids and

even fucking george clooney wtf

steve buscemi is pretty goofy but still

salma hayek’s pigtails in this wow 

elijah wood was the lead in a movie that’s tied for the largest number of oscars of all time and he played a character creatively named “THE GUY”

sylvester stallone is like a cultural icon and he played not one but FOUR ridiculously dressed weirdos

alan cumming is the only one i can understand 

Mental Illness in the Horror Genre

Something that pissed me off the other day.

Talking to a guy who knows my parents but doesn’t know me very well, and he tells me that his friend (indeed, a very nice and talented actor) recently put out a horror movie. And I’m interested until I hear the words “So it’s about this guy with OCD…” and at that point my mom and I give each other a sidelong glance.

I say, “I don’t know, because I have OCD and it’s a pretty serious thing for me.”

To which he follows up, “Oh, you don’t have it like this guy! You’re totally functional!”

Okay, dude. Yes, I am standing before you in a fancy club, dressed nice, and looking relatively balanced. But you do not know me. You do not know OCD.

You do not know that I have been non-functional, and that in order to maintain my current balance of sanity, I take daily medication and see a weekly therapist, and I still have downward spirals and panic attacks.

OCD can add to a story, for sure. The Aviator is a great example–albeit, it was on the voyeuristic side, kind of “check out what a weirdo this guy really is”, but his condition was portrayed in a realistic and *sympathetic* manner, because it focused so hard on his anxiety and entrapment.

I don’t need a horror movie about my disorder for a couple reasons.
1. I already live the horror movie that is OCD.
2. Just like people with psychosis, schizophrenia/schizotypal disorders, dissociative identity disorders, and any other number of mental disorder that makes us act in unusual and yes, sometimes frightening ways, I don’t need it to be the hinge for your horror flick, a handy device that makes more people like you scared and misunderstanding of people like me.
3. And for people with the above disorders who may not be diagnosed, they don’t need to be told that they are dangerous monsters and cause them to avoid treatment out of fear. (This goes double for people who experience paranoia or delusions as part of their symptoms.)

This post ended up way longer than I meant, but really, truly, hear me out creators:

MENTAL ILLNESS IS A TRAIT AMONG AN INFINITE VARIETY OF PEOPLE. IT IS NOT A CHARACTER FLAW, AND IT IS DEFINITELY A POOR PLOT DEVICE FOR THE HORROR GENRE. YOU CAN DO BETTER.

Renaissance Faire - Race and Culture

This month hosts The Renaissance Pleasure Faire in Los Angeles. For those of you who have never been to a Ren Faire, one of the key aspects of it is costume and dressing up. 

When I was in High School and would go with my High School friends, I was always a little jealous of the costumes that they would wear. All of my friends in High School you see, were white. The costumes that they would wear always looked right on them and somehow, wrong on me. 

One year, I took things into my own hands and decided to dress as a Chinese Peasant. I got a Rice Paddy hat from our local chinatown and a pretty drab and easy top and pants (I super wish I could find these photos for you guys)  

The effect worked, a lot of people noticed my costume and laughed at my little joke.

Still, I would look at my friends in their beautiful dresses and flower crowns and envy that they could easily slip into this land of make believe and I still felt a little bit like an outsider. 

I don’t believe that anyone particularly made me feel this way, it was just something that made me aware of my race when usually it’s something I don’t necessarily think about. 

So, I went and decided to just wear the ‘wrong’ feeling costumes anyways, it was all pretend and I could do anything I wanted. 

But this year, I decided to do something different. I did some research and found out that during the Elizabethan period, the Ming dynasty would have been in power. I did some research online and found myself a Ming Dynasty costume. 

It was everything I had ever wanted. I felt pretty, but also I felt like I belonged. I felt like I was able to share my culture and what was beautiful about that time period with people who didn’t know. A lot of people stopped me to ask about my costume! I wish I had known a little bit more about accurate construction or really, anything about the Ming Dynasty, but I still felt right in it. 

There are lots of cultures that existed during the Elizabethan era and I encourage any People of Color to share that when they go to a Renaissance festival next time! I would love to see more costumes, maybe Armenian or Turkish or Mongolian! 

Next year I want to take this as a starting point and try to incorporate more elements of fantasy. There are lots of Chinese dramas that take period costumes and throw some fun fantasy elements into it. Here are some cool examples:

5

Ewan McGregor on getting older: 

“I don’t feel it – you never do. I still want to kick around on BMX bikes! I have to ask my wife: ‘Do I look like a cock, or is this all right, the way I’m dressed?’ Because you don’t want to be ‘that guy’, but you also don’t want to listen to that voice either. I want to wear skinny jeans when I’m in my 70s. Why not? Who cares?

Happy 46th Birthday, Ewan!

reasons why haggar is a lesbian

made by me, a certified lesbian

• she’s the most powerful villain/person in the show
     • like seriously no one has anything on her
     • and lesbians/gay people are always more powerful than straight people

• no one fucking…listens to her
     • which is relatable so i mean…

• the only time she smiles around a man is when she’s torturing him
     • do i even need to explain this

• she’s magical and magic is gay
     • proof: have you ever read a fantasy book because holy shit even if the obviously        gay characters end up being straight (looking at you sarah j. maas) they’re still            pretty fuckign gay

• what straight girl dresses like this:

conclusion: haggar is a lesbian

Fanfic Prompt List

Reblog this. Readers send a fandom (and a pairing, if you’re into that) +  a number to your Ask. You write a fic/drabble using that line in your piece. Yay, more fic!

  1. “It wasn’t your fault.”
  2. “You love me as if I deserve you.”
  3. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
  4. “I really wish you’d told me your mother was in town.”
  5. “You don’t believe in an afterlife?”
  6. “I just came to say goodbye.”
  7. “I never say no to a picnic.”
  8. “There’s only one bed.”
  9. “You don’t remember last night at all, do you?”
  10. “You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.”
  11. “A woman’s sexuality is a moving target.”
  12. “You’re a genius with facts, but you’re really stupid with people.”
  13. “I made the mistake of thinking ‘This can’t get weirder.’ Sorry.”
  14. “We’re in love with the same person. Friendships have been built on less common ground.”
  15. “I didn’t know you could dance like that!”
  16. “I found it in the recycling bin.”
  17. “I know what I want, when I want it. So get over here.”
  18. “This is… exactly what it looks like.”
  19. “There’s so much blood.”
  20. “You should see me in my old uniform. I’m pretty sure it still fits.”
  21. “I know you really want to hang it on the wall, but…”
  22. “I hate everything about Christmas except…”
  23. “We bet and you lost, so you have to do it.”
  24. “Is that a tattoo?”
  25. “I could tell it was your favorite book because of all the notes you wrote in the margins.”
  26. “What do you think?  Is purple my color?”
  27. “That is way too expensive.”
  28. “Girls night in?”
  29. “I never imagined myself in a wedding dress.”
  30. “I was scared and I ran.”
  31. “I’m yours, in every way you’ll have me.”
  32. “You’re acting like this is your first threesome.”
  33. “The bow was perfect before, but then I got paranoid and had to check to make sure it was still in there.”
  34. “You might not like me, but you definitely want me.”
  35. “If a zombie bit you, I’d be heartbroken, but I’d also shoot you twice in the head.”
  36. “I’d be fine having sex with the same person for the rest of my life, if it wasn’t the same sex every single time.”
  37. “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”
  38. “I lost the baby.”
  39. “I love you. I just love her more.”
  40. “A package arrived for you, but there’s no return address and the box looks really old.”
  41. “If I die, I’m going to haunt you.”
  42. “I didn’t say “sex party” as in orgy.  I said “hex party” as in witches.”
  43. “You wanted me to walk in on you.”
  44. “This is a totally inappropriate soundtrack.”
  45. “Let’s get wasted and then go piss on his grave.”
  46. “I scalped my Hamilton tickets to pay for it.”
  47. “Hold my hand until it’s over?”
  48. “If you want to get me naked, you’ll have to convince me it’ll be worth my time.”
  49. “I’m a level 72 Rogue and if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it and I will kill you.”
  50. Author’s choice!
A Different Take on Transition Selfies for TDOV

My name is Amy (she/her)! I am pretty damn far along on my transition even after less than a year on HRT. I’ve changed a lot for sure, but there’s a point I want to get across by going backwards in my timeline with these selfies.

[March 2016] This is me now. I look a pretty damn good woman with that sidecut and blue/purple gradient don’t I? Look at how trans I am.

[February 2016] This is the first time I got high. I had a blast. My hair is noticeably solid blue, I look like a mess, and I’m not wearing a bra. Still trans at this point.

[January 2016] Look at how good my body looks! Estrogen has done wonders for me. My hair is orange this time (I like to mix up my appearance a lot ok). That lipstick mark is from my good friend and roommate @rosaceaex. I’m absolutely trans here.

[August 2015] Daaaaaaamn look at my makeup! My hair is a vibrant red here but it’s the same dye as the above pic - it just faded to that orange color. I’m not as curvy in this one, but I still look hot as heck. Still trans and still a woman.

[May 2015] Hey look my hair is the same color this time. It’s shorter for sure, but I’m wearing a pretty cute dress. This was also the month I started hormones! Yup, trans for sure.

[January 2015] Finally we are at the point where my hair is its natural color. I’m wearing a full on feminine outfit possibly for the first time. Though I’m not on hormones, I’m not curvy, and you can see a bulge in my skirt. But I’m still a woman at this point right?

[November 2014] My hair is definitely shorter here. And now I’m wearing a masc shirt! But hey guess what? I’m still trans, and I’m still a woman.

[September 2014] OK I look like I’m just trying too hard here. The makeup is kinda too much, and I’m wearing masc clothes even though they’re tight-fitting. But I still think I look good. And I’m still trans. Still a woman.

[May 2014] Very short hair, completely masc clothing, no curves whatsoever. I think I took this shortly after I came to realize I was trans. I’m still Amy here, and I’m still a woman.

[August 2012] Here I am at the Grand Canyon before starting my first semester of university. At this point I had no idea about the whole trans thing. I was still going by my birth name, he/him pronouns, and everything. But guess what? The person in this picture is a girl. Her name is Amy. She’s transgender.


No matter how far along you are in your transition, whether you’re closeted or not, your gender is still valid and you are still trans. You can still be proud on TDOV. No matter how late you figured it out or how much your identity has changed, your gender is still perfectly valid.

potato-pig  asked:

Hello Charlie! You're one of my favourite artists, you really inspire me and I love your art! I was wondering though, how did you get so good at designing and drawing clothes, esp that realistic fantasy style? What inspire you when it comes to that?

Thank you! <3

Dang, that’s an interesting question! I don’t really think about it all that much. There are a couple of things in my art approach that feel like they’re innate and they’re just… there. Instinctual I guess. Clothing being one of them - but I’ll try and explain it anyway!

I think I’ve always gravitated toward practical outfits. Even if I’m drawing someone in a ridiculous pretty dress I’ll always be thinking about how it’s made, in the back of my head. What fabric it might be made out of, where the seams are… real thrilling stuff. And more often that not I don’t draw the showy / fancy pieces - I end up going for simpler styles.

I also love movie outfits because they tend to be more outlandish in design, but they’re still real - someone still had to make them. LOTR for fantasy deisgns (that are real world and look practical and believable.) Anytime anyone puts a lady in armor I’m all in - GOT. Snow White and The Huntsman (even!) … just, anything that tickles your inspiration bones I guess.

I don’t sit around watching runway shows but I get tons of inpiration from it. Haute couture can be kind of mind blowing, if you’re ever stuck for inpiration. Even just the gorgeous textures and patterns are something you can work into designs without them being over the top. I actually have a book to recommend here too! If you want crazy, fantasy style dresses (which actually exist real-world) grab Alexander McQueen’s Savage Beauty! It’s just… I don’t even have the words:

It’s the perfect mix of fantasy and real world (everything I aim for at least!)


Why the Linda Cho Snub Stings

And here we go, folks: as promised, my first in a series of critical posts regarding Broadway, culture, and my opinion on the state of theatre today.

Let me preface this post with a clear disclaimer: I am a major fan of Anastasia and have been since the Don Bluth movie came out in 1997. I also understand why Santo Loquasto was selected by the American Theatre Wing as this year’s Tony winner for costume design; I congratulate him heartily, because he is a master of the craft.

But with that out of the way, I disagree with the American Theatre Wing on this award and truly believe that the award should have gone to Linda Cho for her work on Anastasia. I think this honestly was the most upsetting snub for me last night. In some ways, this gets to the heart of another post I made. From an aesthetic standpoint, Linda Cho’s costumes were more visually impressive, more memorable, and more original than those for Hello, Dolly! I’m not alleging any animus in the ATW’s decision, to be clear; it goes more to the somewhat staid, static vision of theatre possessed by the eligible voters.

Now, part of the reason I find the HD costumes uninspiring is because thanks to HD being a revival, there is a kind of need to look to the past productions for inspiration, since the director and producers were not trying to go for some kind of completely original setting (which is fine, for the record!). 

But to my mind, the Best Costume Design category is designed to reward originality and accomplishment, not just improvements on a theme. The costumes that Linda Cho designed for Anastasia manage to have a kind of timeless elegance that grabs the eye and forces you to notice not only the actors, but the costumes themselves. 

Anya’s (Christy Altomare) red and blue gowns from Act II have stuck in my head since the very first stills were released to Playbill ages and ages ago. For visual pops, you cannot beat these (all photos are either from Playbill or other publicly available sources, and are not my property):

Both of these gowns exude a classic elegance that is unrivaled on Broadway today, paying homage to the source material (the high society of the Roaring 20s in Paris, as well as the Russian designs included on the red gown) while still looking fresh. 

The lines on the blue gown in particular are exquisite, and give Christy Altomare (who is not a tall woman) the appearance of added height without it being obvious that is what it’s designed to do.

The costumes for the Romanovs are also elegant, sophisticated, and memorable (I lack a proper still for this that I can attribute to Playbill or Broadway World or Broadway Box and thus the still is drawn from Pinterest; if you are the original photographer, please message me and I will edit this post to credit you). 

For those familiar with the show, you know the ones I mean: the ghostly pearlescent white of Nicholas, Alexandra, and the others slain at the start of the musical. The costumes are graceful, and a good match to many images of the real Romanovs in the era in which the prologue is set. But as with Anya’s gowns…truly, there is a level beyond the simple. I called them “ghostly” for a reason: you can’t look at them without having a terrible sense that these people (innocent for the purposes of the musical) are about to be slain. Linda Cho made funeral shrouds out of ballgowns–and that is a metaphor that works on a huge number of levels.

But you know where Linda Cho really gets me? The costumes for Lily (Caroline O’Connor), Vlad (John Bolton), and Dimitry (Derek Klena). Let’s take each in turn, with just one example per.

This is a Playbill still from the Broadway performance of (I believe) either “Land of Yesterday” or “The Countess and the Common Man”. One of my fellow fanastasias ( @nikolaevna-romanova​ or @anyasdimitry​ perhaps?) can confirm which scene/number.

I’ll focus on Lily for the moment. That gold dress is clearly designed to pop. Lily is a fun, flirty, outrageous character, like her spiritual predecessor in the 1997 film as voiced by the divine Bernadette Peters. Caroline O’Connor brings a downright saucy quality to the character that this gown is designed to highlight. The character is a fallen aristocrat who acts as press secretary/majordomo to the Dowager Empress. She’s supposed to look wealthy–but a kind of shabby wealthy, like someone down on their luck. 

So let’s take a closer look at this Linda Cho masterpiece (via Broadway Box):

The pattern and the cut of the dress are simple–much simpler than would have been worn by the nouveaux-riches of post-war Paris, but still quite elegant and stylish, especially when accented with the lace gloves. But it’s a far cry from the style that Countess Malevsky-Malevitch would have been used to in her old life in imperial St. Petersburg. She’s had to make reductions–but damn if she’s not going to make them work. Linda Cho really captures that perfectly. This dress looks, in addition to being beautiful, like it might have come from a very high end store, but wasn’t custom-made as would have been expected of someone with massive resources. While presenting a memorable dress, Linda Cho stuck to the history: Lily is down on her old circumstances (as the Romanov family was post-Revolution) but she will still Look The Part.

Next, I look at how Linda Cho costumed Vlad Popov, the would-be Count and titular Common Man of the previous number. This still is courtesy of Getty.fr and numerous other news orgs, and is from the Broadway opening night:

It looks pretty fancy, right? It is! But if you look at it closely and in the context of the play, it’s in the same category as Lily’s gold dress. The fabrics are clearly fine, but it’s not a custom tailoring, even though this comes after he is restored to some measure of glory. Linda Cho replicates a rich French brocade for the vest and matches it to the morning coat perfectly (more technically, I believe it’s a stroller, though the term is anachronistic for the year the musical is set). But there’s a reminder to the common-man status in the design of the trousers: leaving them striped, subtly, the way Linda Cho did is a subtle signal that Vlad is not born to wealth–no aristocrat would have styled themselves that way. But he mixes the two styles in a subtle nod to what he is (a commoner) and what he pretends to be (a Count).

Finally, there’s the costuming for Dimitry. Playbill ran this still before opening night, and it’s a perfect one to showcase why Linda Cho was such a genius with her choices:

We know from the musical that Dima is a poor con artist, really not much more than a gutter rat as it were and his costuming matches. The fabrics he wears are rough-hewn and cheap-looking (by intention) because he would never have been able to afford anything else unless he aggressively bartered. As a good man in early Communist Russia, he wouldn’t have had the resources to style himself any better–we get the sense Vlad can only because he had the clothes beforehand. Dimitry is all commoner, all working class, all rough (the same with Anya’s Act I wardrobe).

Now, it’s easy to make a costume look cheap–but Linda Cho does more than that. She makes it look cared for. After all, Dimitry has no resources to replace a winter coat if it’s torn, and so we see that while worn, it’s clearly cared for. His shoulder bag, if a bit out of place in the era, is the same: the leather is time-worn and it’s clearly a possession he has had most of his life. That’s not an easy look to master, and to execute it so flawlessly requires real skill.

Here’s my bottom line. The costumes that Linda Cho designed were bold and innovative, and perfectly matched to the heart and soul of the characters who wore them. They took some risks in the way in which they used colors and fabrics, and they blended some modern sensibilities with the design elements and fabrics of the era the musical is set in. That is the kind of thinking that I feel the American Theatre Wing had a chance to reward with the Tony in 2017, and it’s why I feel disappointed by the snubbing of Linda Cho. Her costumes weren’t groundbreaking, but they were unique, they were original, and above all, they felt like they improved the overall quality of the show for their presence.

I doubt Linda Cho will ever read this, but if she does: you own the Tony in my mind, and I cannot wait to see what you come up with for the next show lucky enough to hire you to design their costumes.

His || Jungkook || 0.17

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

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THE SIGNS AS ELECTRA HEART LYRICS

Aries: Think you’re gonna break my heart. Think you’re funny, think you’re smart. Yeah, you may be good looking, but you’re not a piece of art. - “Power and Control”

Taurus:  Yeah, I wish I’d been a, wish I’d been a teen, teen idle. Wish I’d been a prom queen fighting for the title. Instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible, feeling super, super suicidal. - “Teen Idle”

Gemini:  I guess you could say that my life’s a mess, but I’m still looking pretty in this dress. I’m the image of deception. - “Homewrecker”

Cancer:  Lies, don’t wanna know, don’t wanna know, oh. I can’t let you go, can’t let you go, oh. I just want it to be perfect, to believe it’s all been worth the fight. - “Lies”

Leo: Living life like I’m in a play, In the lime light I want to stay. I know I’ve got a big ego. I really don’t know why it’s such a big deal, though. - “Primadonna”

Virgo:  I never sang for love. I never had a heart to mend because before the start began, I always saw the end. Yeah, I wait for you to open up, to give yourself to me, but nothing’s ever gonna give, I’ll never set you free. - “Starring Role”

Libra:  I’ll chew you up and I’ll spit you out ‘cause that’s what young love is all about. So pull me closer, and kiss me hard. I’m gonna pop your bubblegum heart. - “Bubblegum Bitch”

Scorpio:  Born with a void, hard to destroy with love or hope. Built with a heart, broken from the start, and now I die slow. - “Valley of the Dolls”

Sagittarius:  When you’re around me, I’m radioactive. My blood is burning, radioactive. I’m turning radioactive. My blood is radioactive. My heart is nuclear, love is all that I fear. - “Radioactive”

Capricorn: And now I see, I see it for the first time, there is no crime in being kind. Not everyone is out to screw you over. Maybe, oh just maybe they just wanna get to know you. - “Fear and Loathing”

Aquarius: All my life I’ve felt it deep inside of me. All this time was fighting for what I believe. All my life I’ve tried to hide what history has given me. - “Sex Yeah”

Pisces:  All I really want is to be wonderful. People in this town they, they can be so cruel. I live my life inside a dream, only waking when I sleep. If I could sell my sorry soul, I would have it all. - “The State of Dreaming”

10 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU]

WORD COUNT: 5,308

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as violence and alcohol

Originally posted by eatupbangtan

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Two small red pills, one of the white ones and a fresh bottle of water.

Caring for your brother had become somewhat second nature to you, Jackson and Bambam were recovering quicker than Yugyeom expected; which left Jimin in the false hospital wing alone. Both you and Sung took it in turns to keep him company, the other one catching up on sleep when you swapped over. It was safe to say Jimin hated his younger sister and girlfriend looking after him, he was supposed to be taking care of you two not the other way round.

Another week had passed since the night that stole Jimin’s sight, the manor house was quiet because albeit nobody could find the right words to say. It was awful to observe the usually strong warrior men resemble lost sheep, without their leader in good health the boys would wander aimlessly down the halls; occasionally escaping the confined walls only to return to the same stone cold silence mere hours later.

It was a Thursday morning when Sung announced she and Jimin were taking off for a week, after endless research and countless sleepless night she had managed to find an ophthalmologist who claimed there was a possibility Jimin’s sight could be restored with stem cell treatment. You were ecstatic to say the least, throwing your arms round her petite frame as you were both overwhelmed with hope.

“That’s amazing! Are-, he thinks he can do it?!” You gasped, squeezing her even tighter.

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Long Live the Plains Magpies

I know I’ve talked about this before but I’m going to talk about it more because fuck this shit. 

Pocahontas (the Disney movie) has received well deserved flack, but I almost never hear about one way it really affected me growing up: It taught me how natives are ‘supposed’ to look. It came out the year before I started kindergarten so the hype was still pretty fresh. Picture this

Literally. 

I’m the girl on the right. The girl on the left was my friend Ashton. 

Of course there came a day when we had a ‘dress up as pilgrims and indians’ day at school. My family couldn’t afford to get me an ‘indian costume and I wouldn’t have my own regalia for another four years*, but Ashton was from a better off family and she, along with many, many others showed up at school wearing Pocahontas merch. 

And little five year old me couldn’t quite understand what I was feeling. See, the popular idea of native peoples has us looking like this:

Know what Osage (and other plains people) wear to powwows? 

This did not add up in my mind. 

The ‘good’ natives wore simple buckskin. The popular girls dressed up as these good natives. But when I thought about what I’d seen at powwows I started to feel like this was Pocahontas:

And this was Osage

If you get what I mean. I’m trying to give voice to a 5 year olds feelings, cut me some slack. 

I saw my own culture as tacky and over the top and I learned to become embarrassed by it, even ashamed of it. I spent years feeling like this. Like my culture was the gaudy aunt with 500 cats compared to ‘REAL’ natives. I also was very confused at why a blonde white girl was considered more ‘indian’ than me by our classmates because she wore a fake buckskin dress and I remember sitting in my pink sweats wanting to scream ‘but I really AM native!’ but since I wore pink sweats I honestly thought no one would believe me so I stayed silent.

Eventually I unlearned this. But it wasn’t as six. Or seven. Or seventeen. It was at twenty-four. 

THAT’S how deep this shit runs. 

I was speaking with fellow plains native @stalkershandbook one night and she remarked that natives are like magpies; we take ribbons and sparkles and beads and paint and we make it work. Our regalia is BEAUTIFUL. It’s taken me so fucking long to appreciate it. I hope you do too. 

* this is the regalia I got at 9, the dress made by my grandmother

BSD Chapter 53 (51.3) Summary

This  is part 3 of Chapter 51 “Echo”. Well, things happened quite fast and out of everyone expectation I guess. I myself think that it’s the calm before the storm but the storm itself might not happen so soon. 

Anyway, here’s some summary as usual… Trust me the kanjis in this chapter are killing me. So I skipped a lot of parts, as a lot of things can be understood just by looking at the picture already.

I most likely will make mistakes here and there, both English and Jap are not my mother tongue, but I hope I help explain something. I have seen people either getting excited or criticizing the chapter and I hope I can help pointing out some good things after all. 

                                               SPOILERS AHEAD

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Bear: Stuart Twombly x Reader

Pairing: Stuart Twombly x Reader 

 A/N: This is my first reader insert. This is also the first smut that I’ve done on here so bear with me. I also feel like the story line was all over the place, so I apologize in advance. Also, I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes as I’ve procrastinated really hard on this, starting this in like early April and not finishing it until 1:30 in the morning today, and I am way too tired to proof read. 

@writing-obrien

Warning: NSFW 18+

Word count: 4,814

 ~~~


Originally posted by prettiestcaptain

Stuart’s POV 

 How do you deal with having a crush on the hottest girl in the office? Be a complete asshole and ignore her all the time, of course. Admittedly not my best decision, but it’s kept me from fucking her in front our co-workers, so that’s something, right? And I can’t help it. It’s not my fault that she could literally be wearing a paper bag and I’d still get a hard on. The way her jeans hug her curves and the shirts that make her look sophisticated, yet sexy at the same time. Or when she wears these cute little sun-dresses and sandals that make her legs look amazing. It can make any man fall to his knees. And to make matters worse, I was her supervisor. 

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2

Sam x Reader, Dean

Summary: Sam doesn’t approve of what you’re wearing. Dean does. 

Warnings: possessive/dominant/jealous!Sam, language, a little dirty talk. 

Words: 700+


“If you think I’m letting you leave here with her dressed like that, you’re insane.” Sam gestures in your direction, however his words are meant for Dean.

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Call Boy Johnny (Johnny x Reader)

THE MOMENT OF TRUTH HAS ARRIVED PEOPLE. THE SCENARIO YOU HAVE BEEN BEGGING ME FOR OVER AND OVER, I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED IT. HERE HE IS, IN ALL HIS GLORY. CALL BOY JOHNNY! I hope you all enjoy this one as much as I did writing it!! I’M THIRSTIN’ SO HARD RN

P.S. Yes, I’m the same blog as the original Call Boy Yuta smut. I changed my url from @chokemewithjaehyunschoker to @caliboyjaeffrey ! Hope no one get’s confused lol

Originally posted by y-ta

You woke up slowly, the sheets and blankets kicked off in your sleep and tangled in your legs. You felt content as you looked over at your alarm clock, the time being in the late afternoon.  Sleeping in was your passion, you’d stayed up super late the previous night anyway, not too bothered that half the day was gone. You gazed out the one big window in your bedroom, the one that looked out at the bustling city. Snow had fallen last night, dusting over the streets and cars like powdered sugar on pancakes. It didn’t really feel like your birthday, but it wasn’t so bad to wake up on a day as pretty as this one.

You got up and stretched, sliding on your slippers as you went over to the bathroom to wash your face, splashing it with cold water to wake yourself up. Refreshed, you lazily went to make coffee, turning on your radio to hear a cozy sounding song playing through its speakers. You also heard your phone beep softly back in your bedroom, in no rush to see what is was as you finished making your coffee.

Walking back to your bedroom, you slid open your phone, reading a text from one of your friends; something along the lines of wanting to meet somewhere for your birthday to celebrate. You smiled at their thoughtfulness, replying that you didn’t really mind where or how you partied, allowing them to go wild. Your friend answered back quickly, excitedly texting in all caps that she already had an idea in mind. She’d text you the details later, wishing you a final happy birthday.

You set your phone down, feeling your body give a quick shiver of energy, the coffee beginning to kick in. If they were planning on going out after the sun had gone down, you weren’t going to rush to get ready. Instead you plopped down on your couch with a bag of cheesy popcorn, clicking on the tv and watching the current music show programs contently.

Over time, you received various calls and texts from family and friends, all wishing you a happy birthday and to enjoy yourself today. That I will, you thought with a smile, standing up to refill your bowl of snacks for the second time. Someone might think it sad that this was how you were celebrating your birthday, but in all honestly, you loved having a day all to yourself. Of course, you didn’t mind hanging out with your friends later, in fact you really were looking forward to it.

After a while, you received a text from your friend again, with a time, address, and instructions to dress cutely. You smiled at the smirking emoji, texting back before you wandered back over to your bedroom, making a beeline for your closet. The time had said 8:00, so you thought you might as well get ready now, giving yourself two hours to really put on the ritz. It was your birthday after all, you didn’t have too many chances to really go all out the rest of the year.

You shifted through your clothes, finally being drawn to a cute, slimming black miniskirt; the perfect ploy to slim your food baby from all your snacking you did today. You’d pair the skirt with a red ribbed mock neck long sleeve that ecentuated your chest. You slid on a pair of sheer pantie hose before you put the skirt on, tucking the shirt into the waistband to really make your hips pop. You finished the look off with some simple black ankle boots with just enough heel to make your butt look extra good. Satisfied, you headed over the bathroom to finish getting ready, knowing you would spend at least an hour doing your hair and makeup.

A little over an hour later and your hair was curled and twisted up into a high bun, knowing that you’d probably get hot later. Your makeup was simple, but with a little touch of sparkle around your eyes that made them twinkle merrily. Happy with your appearance, you packed your purse full of the essentials you usually needed. Before you slipped out the door, you slid your chic winter coat on, hoping you wouldn’t freeze in your little skirt on the way to the subway station.

You boarded the train half frozen, passing the fifteen minutes on your phone thanking people who had posted birthday related things on social media. A few people discreetly complimented you on the train, making you flush sheepishly as they applauded your style and makeup.

Once you arrived at your stop, you took the stairs up onto a crowded street known for its nightlife. This certain strip was famous for its clubs among young people, and you’d been here on a few occasions. You weren’t shocked that they had decided on a club to host your party, what did surprise you though was which one they chose.

The exterior was modern and sleek, only the big tinted windows giving an indication of what was happening on the inside. This club was notorious for having the best of just about everything, music, drinks, food, and people. Celebrities frequented this spot, so it was a rather exclusive club, and difficult to get into. You went to walk to the back of the long line just like everyone else, but a large bouncer stopped you, looking you up and down before asking politely, “Excuse me, are you ______?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “Yes, that’s me.”

He nodded to another bouncer who opened the door, loud electric music spilling out onto the street. The bouncer held out an arm to the door, “This way, please.”

You were still amazed as you walked up the steps and through the black glass doors of the club, staring in awe at the fashionable interior. The bouncer signaled you to follow him, leading you past the lively dance floor, whose tiles lit up in rainbow colors to the beat of the music. You were led up the stairs, almost unable to take your eyes off the people mingling and dancing, the place so alive and busy. Your body itched to shed your coat and join them.

The bouncer stopped at another black glass door, politely knocking on it twice before he opened it, revealing the familiar faces of your girlfriends. They jumped up in excitement, popping those little confetti and streamer poppers as they cheered, “Surprise!”

You were ushered in, the door closing as you grinned at your friends, embracing them warmly as they kissed your cheeks affectionately. They all said their ‘happy birthdays’, gushing over your outfit and makeup as they helped you with your coat and bag.

“Come over here, _______,” your friend who had texted you patted the chic leather couch next to her. “The birthday girl sits in the middle!”

You giggled and sat down, immediately being greeted by a cake with candles in it, “Oh my gosh, you guys.” They cooed and laughed, singing you happy birthday loudly and cheering when blew out the candles. “I don’t deserve you all. Really.”

“Oh, stop that,” one of your friends scolded affectionately, “You always do so much for us, we really wanted to make this birthday extra special for you.” The rest agreed, already pushing presents into your hands.

“Wait, guys,” you laughed, setting them down on the coffee table. “Presents later. I really just want to get down their and dance my ass off.”

Your friends booed jokingly, but they were already heading towards the door, tying back their hair as they prepared for the sweaty mess downstairs. You felt your body vibrate, rushing down the stairs to finally step onto the bright and colorful dance floor. Your friends quickly joined you, forming a circle around you as you danced wildly, dropping down to the floor with the beat, causing them to scream gleefully at your sudden sexiness. You didn’t hold back, allowing your body to move provocatively to the beat as you closed your eyes and soaked in the music.

You and friends danced for what felt like hours, taking the occasional break to indulge in some delicious drinks. Your body buzzed with the alcohol, but you were no lightweight, so your wits were right about you. You couldn’t say the same for your friends though, who stumbled around happily and danced without a care. You laughed at them, holding their hands so they wouldn’t fall over as you danced. Several cute guys had approached you, and you’d indulged in your inner desires as you danced with them. You would grind your ass into their crotch like an expert, ending up at one point sandwiched between two very cute guys. You kissed a few of them, just for shits and giggles, but the moment they whispered for you to leave with them and go ‘somewhere more private’, you would politely decline and slip away from them. Even with alcohol in your system, you were still smart enough to avoid a situation like that.

You and your friends eventually reconvened, wanting to go open your presents and let your feet take a break too. Sitting down, you opened your presents, grateful for the effort they put into them. After opening the last one, you went to thank them, only to be hushed by one of them, “Wait, that wasn’t the last one.” They were all giggling, making your eyes narrow at them in suspicion.

“All the girls and I pitched in for this one,” she smirked, your eyes widening as your feared the worse. The look they had on their faces only spelled trouble, “I’m sure you’ll find it rather…enjoyable.”

Right on cue, the door opened, and a boy stepped in. He was far more gorgeous than any of the guys you’d danced with, making them look homely compared to the god that stood before you. Your jaw dropped, still unable to comprehend what they were implying, “I-I don’t understand…”

He answered, voice so deep you felt it in your stomach, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, sweetheart.” He was dressed casually, but stylishly; a sports team jersey of sorts, sweatpants that left little to the imagination, and Timberlands that clunked with authority on the tiled floor. He wore gold chains too, actually making them look hot for the first time in your life. He had beautiful long brown hair that swooped perfectly, complimenting his warm brown eyes and perfectly pouty lips that naturally had a smirky curl to them.

Sweetheart, you trembled at his words, eyes wide as he walked up to you effortlessly, firmly taking your chin into his hand. He ran his thumb across your bottom lip with a smirk, one of your friends spoke up, holding back giggles, “Meet Johnny, _______. The most expensive and impressive call boy in the city, and he’s here to help you celebrate your birthday.

You were speechless, eyes snapping up to meet his, which were watching and gauging your reaction carefully. He was perfectly calm and collected, while you were completely flabbergasted, still unable to understand what the hell was happening.

“We also booked you a room at a really nice hotel,” one of your friends spoke up, biting her lip in amusement.

If your eyes could get any bigger, they would have popped out of your skull. Your mouth couldn’t move, still transfixed with the way Johnny’s thumb parted your lips and slid into your mouth. You lightly tasted him on your tongue and accidentally let out a quiet whimper, his own lips twitching into a smile at your cute reaction. He’d have a lot of fun with you, you were definitely doing something to him. And he certainly didn’t mind.

“Before your friends leave, baby girl,” Johnny simpered, finally letting his hand drop from your mouth. “I’m going to put on a little bit of a show for them, free of charge.” Your friends laughed and fanned themselves jokingly, but you could tell they were trying not to look as shook as you were.

Johnny took a half step back from you, but he still towered so much that you had to crane your neck. You sat back, trying to relax your nerves but failing miserably as the call boy began to rotate his hips sensually to the muffled music on the other side of the door. If you thought your dancing had been risqué, Johnny made you look like a nun doing the Macarena.

He suddenly slid onto the couch, straddling your hips and grinding into you as he gave you what you finally realized to be a lap dance. He grabbed the back of your head, exposing your neck so he could ghost his lips along your sensitive skin. You let out a whimper, this time not holding back as your hips moved on their own accord against his. Johnny stopped with a smirk against your neck, dragging his soft lips up to your ear where he whispered, “Now, now sweetheart. Let’s save that for later, your friends are still here.” He let his tongue run over the shell of your ear, his voice lower, “Unless you’re perfectly fine with me fucking you in front of your friends?”

You shook your head, remembering that your friends were still in the room. You glanced quickly at them, they were clutching onto one another, eyes glazed over and biting their fingers at the scene before them. Johnny slid off your lap, taking your hand rather politely and snapping your friends from their trance, “Okay, ladies. Show’s over, time for us to leave.”

They all gushed in agreement, some of them whispering excitedly to one another in disbelief, others reassuring you that they would take care of your presents. In a daze you thanked them, barely remembering how your coat ended up on you and your bag on your shoulder, “Bye…thank you for everything.”

With his large hand grasping your smaller one, Johnny led you out of the club, easily weaving between crowds of people who were still dancing the night away. When you got out onto the street, snow was beginning to fall again, but the amount of people had only increased. The tall boy ran a hand through his hair, the action hypnotizing as he wrapped an arm around your waist and entered the stream of people, “This way.”

You didn’t know what to say to him, but the silence was stifling, so you murmured loud enough so that only he could hear you, “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know,” he replied, glancing down at you once before continuing with a small smirk, “But I want to.” He waited a minute before replying with an actual smile, “And they paid me too, so…”

You gave a small smile and blushed, clutching onto your bag for dear life as you two walked down the bustling street, snow falling softly and tickling your face. Your face burned all the way to the hotel, still unable to comprehend that such a gorgeous boy, a call boy at that, had his hand around your waist, and was leading you to some hotel where he would do God knows what to you. If some part of your brain was firing off and saying, “Hey, _____! Isn’t this a bad idea?”, you didn’t hear it. Instead you were listening to the other voice that whispered giddily, “A call boy! Just imagine! Wait! You don’t have to because it’s real!”

While you were fighting a war in your mind, you failed to notice that the two of you arrived at the hotel, which was way too luxurious for normal people. Johnny walked in like it was nothing, like he owned it, and upon noticing your reaction he smirked, “Listen, sweetheart. I’ve been to nicer, my clients are quite fond of me and have quite the heavy purse. This is child’s play compared to other places.” He spared you a glance, eyes traveling up your legs and curves, as he murmured, “Who knows, maybe I’ll show you them someday.”

You stared at your shoes in embarrassment, unable to find your usually witty tongue that served you so well. Instead, you walked with him through the sparkling lobby, the marble tiles so shiny you could see your reflection. Johnny didn’t even stop at the front desk, only giving the doorman a curt nod, who returned the gesture. As he pressed the button for the elevator, you gaped at him, “What was that?”

“That, baby girl,” he smiled lazily, a confident look, “is called connections.”

You were pulled into the elevator as soon as the doors opened, Johnny smashing the button that closed the doors before people could step on too. They cried out angrily but he only smirked at them, already backing you against the side of the elevator.

“I was going to be a gentleman and wait until we got to the room,” Johnny murmured, large hands traveling to your waist. “But you look so good just standing there I can’t help but want a quick taste.”


You barely had any time to reply when his lips crashed passionately into yours, hands on your hips rough as they tugged you into his. If kissing was an art form, Johnny had become a master artisan. His soft lips moved sensually against yours, controlling and powerful as you tilted your head back against the wall in defeat, allowing him to completely take over. He had you pinned against the cold metal wall, teeth nipping at your bottom lip for entrance as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You’d never been kissed like that, eyes flying open with a surprised moan before they slid close at the intimate feeling. Your head spun like you’d downed numerous shots, futilely trying to push his large frame off of yours so you could breath. But Johnny was stubborn and dominant, not stopping for a few more seconds before he pulled away, satisfyingly watching you gasp for air like someone who almost drowned.

You noticed your hands had bunched up in his shirt in an iron grip, slowly releasing the fabric as you blushed. You really didn’t know what to say to him, how did you even talk with a call boy? Don’t you just fuck and then go your separate ways?

Apparently not because Johnny couldn’t stop poking at you, all those pet names he threw around, the way he hadn’t stopped touching you since the club. He was beginning to frustrate you, though you couldn’t let him know that, he’d take too much pleasure in knowing he made you squirm.

“How was that, baby girl?,” Johnny murmured as you reached your floor, making no move to get off as you realized he was waiting for an answer.

You were known for being honest at all times, so you couldn’t help the words that slipped out of your mouth, “It was really hot.” Your ears turned pink, seeing a smile on his lips as he took your hand again and led you down a hall of doors.

The walk felt never ending, your body becoming hotter with each step as you stopped at the very last door, a corner suite. From the pocket of his tantalizing grey sweatpants, Johnny pulled out a key card, which he swiped effortlessly. He held the door open for you, ducking under his arm as you took in your new surroundings.

Your friends had apparently spared no expense, regardless of what Johnny said, the place was absolutely gorgeous. Decorated in a rather modern fashion, there was one impressive floor to ceiling window that over looked the city, and one grand king sized bed fitted with lovely grey sheets. You walked over to the bed and stroked the soft threads, unsure of what to do with yourself, but unable to meet Johnny’s eyes.

He stood off to the side, watching you carefully like a predator watches his prey, wondering when he was going to pounce. You weren’t sure what you were feeling, whether you were ready or not, whether this was something you really wanted. Sure, your body was telling you to let Johnny do things to you no one had done before, but your brain was battling and kept you from falling into the call boy’s arms. You sat down on the bed and took your heeled boots off, not as an invitation for him to go on with it, but because you were suddenly so tired and confused.

Johnny could tell you were at war with yourself, you were not the first time he’d dealt with someone who was hesitant. All you needed was a little push, a little reassurance, and he could give you that and much more if you agreed.

“_______,” Johnny called out, surprising you as he used your name while he walked over and sat next to you on the bed. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, turning to look at you, the natural curve of his mouth calm and pensive, “and I understand. This isn’t the first time someone was unsure, it’s actually really common.”

You stayed silent, mulling over his words. He sighed, probably expecting you to say something, but you didn’t, not knowing how to tell him both sides of your feelings. He was gorgeous and willing, here only to make your wildest fantasies come true, but the truth is, you were terrified. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your friends, and Johnny certainly didn’t know.

You were still a virgin.

You were surprised Johnny couldn’t spot the fact that you were one from a mile away, seeing as he’s probably slept with more people than he could count on his fingers and toes four times over. The famous call boy stood up from the bedding, dusting off his pants, “I understand. I’m not going to force you into anything you would regret.” He was already making his way to the door, grabbing his coat as he reached for the door handle, “You don’t have to worry, I’ll give the money back to your friends. It’s not a big deal.”

You forced yourself to look up, seeing him turn the handle with the actual intent of leaving sent your nerves into overdrive. You stood up suddenly, taking a few steps toward him, “Johnny, wait!”

He turned expectantly, looking fazed for only a moment before he returned to his calm state, “What?”

You gulped, closing the distance between the two of you and overlapping your hand with the the one that rested on the door handle, “Stay…please.”

He let go immediately, dropping his coat and backing you up slowly in tottering steps until the back of your legs hit the bed. You sat back down on the edge, allowing him to tower of you and cage your body with his as he pushed you into the mattress. His voice was low, already laden with a lust that sent a shiver down your back, “You sure?”

“Y-yes,” you quivered, hands lacing behind his neck as you pressed your thighs together, “I want you.”

“Positive?,” he teased with a smile, playful and confident again as he let one of his hands barely slide up your miniskirt.

“Yes! Fuck me!,” you cried out, exasperated and wiggling underneath that stare of his that practically undressed you.

“Alright, princess,” Johnny smirked, lips barely touching yours, “You didn’t even say please, that wasn’t very nice of you.” His hand crept up into your skirt, finding that you were only wearing pantie hose without underwear, and that greatly excited him.

He inched his fingers up your inner thigh, your legs parting on their own as you tilted your head back at the strange new feeling, “Ah…!”

He bunched up your skirt around your hips, his short finger nails digging into the hose and ripping a hole big enough to give him access to your womanhood. Cool air hit your lower lips, eyes screwing shut in pleasure as Johnny let one of his fingers dip lightly into your wet folds. He down at you underneath him, smirking, “Now listen hear.”

“I could take you real slow, sweetheart,” he traced a finger up your slit, letting it press lightly enough on your clit to make you gasp. “Or I could fuck your brains out.”

You could only moan, feeling him increase the pressure on your clit as he circled it with his finger, “Either way, baby girl, you’re going to end up bent over and spread wide for me.”

He bent down so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, retracting his hand from your core and unzipping your skirt slowly, “I’m going to make you come around my cock at least two times tonight, sweetheart. How does that sound?”

You swallowed thickly, tears of pleasure already pricking at your eyes just from his words, “So good.” You’d never felt so aroused in all your life, your body experiencing sensations and feelings you’ve never felt before. It was all so new and beautiful, you’re sure your body wouldn’t be able to last the night.

Johnny sat up and took his shirt off, giving you a good long look of his toned tan chest, his gold chains bouncing lightly as he walked around the bed until he laid himself down at the head. He made himself comfortable as you sat at the foot of the bed confused, “What’re you-”

“I want you to dance for me, baby girl,” Johnny murmured, his hand languidly resting over the bulge in his sweatpants. “I saw you in the club, dancing like the little slut you are, such a naughty girl. Stand up.”

You listened obediently, already sliding your skirt and panties hoes down your legs as your body moved to some silent music. You recalled a song you’d really liked from earlier on the dance floor, a hypnotic beat that had the risqué sound of a bed rhythmically creaking. You danced to that beat, tongue coming out to trace your bottom lip as you stared at Johnny, whose hand moved lightly over his sweatpants.

He watched you with intense eyes, lips parting slightly as he watched your every movement, “You know you made so many guys hard, sweetheart. And you turned them all down too, isn’t that right?” His voice dropped an octave, his abs flexing as he rubbed his dick harder, “They all would have gladly waited in line to fuck you right there too.”

Not missing a single movement of his hand, you slipped your shirt over your head, dropping down to the floor like you had in the club. Johnny sat up a little straighter to watch you knot your hips on the floor, his dick twitching at the sight of your bare body.

As you stood back up, your reached behind and unclasped your bra, feeling bold enough to throw it at Johnny’s feet. He let out a small groan, watching as your crawled on all fours towards him on the bed. You felt like someone completely different than earlier, driven only by your need to be with Johnny and feel his touch.

You let your hands press against his chest, straddling him like he had done to you in the club and grinding down in his clothes erection. Johnny must of had a ton of self control because he only breathed through his nostrils heavily and squeezed your hips with his hands, guiding you as you rode him. You let out lewd sounds you didn’t know you were capable of making, unable to bare the pleasure you were feeling, how hot Johnny’s skin was against your palms. You couldn’t resist the temptation any longer, your fingers leaving his chest and choosing to weave through his long brown hair.

You tugged on the roots as he began to grind back up into you, making you moan, “Johnny…”

He grunted in approval, stilling your for just a moment so he could pull his sweatpants down. You had left a large wet spot over the front, all from your dripping core as you rode him. You balked, realizing what his intention was as he slipped his impressive dick out of his briefs, “What’s wrong sweetheart? You suddenly scared?”

You gulped, raising yourself up on trembling thighs so he could position himself at your entrance. Your fingers dug into the skin of his broad shoulders, heart beat picking up as you prepared yourself for him, “N-no.”

He didn’t even reply, instead he decided enough was enough and slammed himself into you harshly. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as his eyes suddenly widened in shock, “Shit. _______, why didn’t you tell me this was your first time?”

You buried your head into his shoulder, sniffling from the pain as his arms wrapped comfortingly around your frame, “I-I didn’t want you to make fun of me.”

Johnny sighed, showering your skin with kisses and rubbing soothing circles around your back, “Sweetheart, no….”

You gave a shaky breath, beginning to get used to the unfamiliar stretch of your core, the strange feeling giving you a sense of completion. The call boy cupped your face, eyes surprisingly earnest, “I’ll make it up to you, baby girl, I promise, okay?”

You nodded, resting your head against the crook of his neck. You felt so small in his arms, but safe, so you whispered tentatively, “Okay. You can move….”

His hips moved gently at first, rocking in and out of you smoothly as you got used to the feeling, which began to build into one of pleasure. You hesitantly moved your hips, clumsily finding the same rhythm as him. He noticed you reciprocating his movement, picking up his speed slightly and pressing a kiss to your neck, “Feel good?”

You could only moan softly, voice wavering as he bounced you on his dick getting increasingly rougher as he realized you were beginning to like it that way. His hips rutted harshly into yours, now unable to hold back as you grew accustomed to his size, biting down into the skin of his shoulder when he grabbed your ass, “Johnny!…”

“Such a good girl,” he groaned, head lolling back against the headboard as he lost himself in the feeling. “Your tight little pussy feels so good.”

Your breathing increased, feeling close to your high as Johnny spanked your ass roughly, most likely leaving a perfectly red handprint. Soon as his hand made contact with your ass again, you were gone, arching your back in a silent scream as your first orgasm of the night rolled over you.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Johnny smirked, obviously not close at all to his own high as he helped you ride out your high. “Come all over this dick.”

Once you’d settled down, Johnny suddenly slipped out of you, taking your wrist and dragging you over to the large window. He pressed your naked body front first against the glass, legs still trembling from your release as you watched the unsuspecting people walk by on the street. He kicked your legs wider, running  a hand down your back as he guided his member to your dripping heat. Before he pushed into you, Johnny leaned over, resting his chin on your shoulder and licking the skin there, “I’m going to fuck you up against this window for all these people. They’re going to see you spread all pretty for me, baby girl, pressed against the glass like the slut you are.”

You moaned loudly, feeling him push into your still flexing walls, a tighter fit than even the first time he entered you. He gave you no time to adjust, fucking you so hard against the window that the glass vibrated dagerously. You felt your heart increase as you were forced to look down at the people walking down on the ground. Someone could look up any minute and see your breasts pressed against the glass and you already felt a blush reaching your cheeks at the thought. For some reason, it excited you being in such a dangerous position.

Johnny worked your body like a pro, his much taller height practically lifting you from the ground as you stood on your tip toes. He was hitting a spot inside of you that you didn’t realize was there, and each time he did, your body felt an electric shock. It was intoxicating the way he breath fanned across your back, his small grunts so sensual in your ear that you felt them travel to your core. He let out a groan, “I’m close, baby girl. I’m going to come all over you.”

Pressing your cheek against the glass, you reached a hand down to rub yourself to completion. You saw stars as you touched your clit, not realizing such a small bundle of nerves could feel so incredible at just the slightest brush. Johnny saw you touching yourself, pushing your hand aside and replacing it with his own as he panted, “Let me help you out, sweetheart.”

You slapped the glass with a hand covered in your essence as he pummeled into you, his thrusts becoming choppier as he approached his high. He suddenly pulled out with a loud groan, “Fuck…”

You felt strands of his hot cum land on your back, turning your head to watch him pump his cock to milk it of all his release. Which was apparently a lot, leaving your back completely covered and messy. You shivered at the feeling, still close to your release as you cupped his jaw and kissed his passionately. Pulling away from his lips, you murmured against his lips, “Your cum feels so warm on my skin, Johnny.” He moaned and returned your kiss, sloppily letting his tongue stroke yours, remembering that you hadn’t come yet.

Johnny fell to his knees, gold chains clinking lightly as he pushed you against the glass again, this time with your cum covered back smearing it. He spread your legs, a smirk on his face, “Don’t think I forgot about you sweetheart.”

You didn’t understand what he meant until he leaned in and licked a stripe up your lower lips, your thighs trembling at the feeling. He mouthed your soaking heat, your fingers gripping at his hair as he made some of the lewdest noises with his mouth. He focused mainly on you clit, his teeth coming out to tug on it lightly as he brought his fingers to your entrance. He slipped two of his long fingers in, pumping them in and out at a nice steady pace as you moaned at the feeling. He hummed, sending gorgeous vibrations onto your clit and making you brain blank as you suddenly came. You arched into his mouth, trembling with your release as he pulled his mouth away and finger fucked you to completion, “That’s right sweetheart, let me have it.”

When you came down, he pulled his fingers out and placed them in his mouth, looking up at you through his lashes as he sucked them clean. He placed kisses on your stomach, peeling you away from the mess you’d made on the glass with his come and laying you on your stomach on the bed. You sighed contently, watching as Johnny tucked himself into his sweatpants again and walked into the bathroom. He returned with a washcloth that steamed with warm water, coming over to clean your back of his release.

“It’s been a while since someone made me come this much,” he casually observed, wiping you back and pressing kisses to it when he was done. “Usually I would leave right after I fucked someone but…”

You felt something akin to hope bubble in your chest, for an unknown reason, and was happy. You tried to appear calm as you turned on your side, “But…what?”

Johnny looked at you with a smile, a real one, laying down next to you so that you were face to face, “But, you’re rather interesting.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, “And cute. And beautiful.”

You blushed, biting your lip to hide your pleased smile, “Oh.”

He watched you amusedly, “Usually I have a personal rule where I don’t date my clients, but you’re a special case I think.”

“What’re you trying to say?,” you smiled, feeling brave enough to brush the hair from his eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is,” he started, pushing you down into the bed and caging you in with his arms. “I wouldn’t mind taking you out to get coffee sometime soon. So I can get to know the pretty personality behind the pretty face.”

You laughed lightly, allowing him to press kisses to your neck, “I wouldn’t mind that at all either.”

Johnny looked up at you happily, “Then it’s a date. Now,” he let his hands wander to places he had yet to explore, making you gasp, “we have this room for the rest of the night. Why don’t we put it to good use?”