#'well it's gonna be hard for everyone to find a job so might as well go try to do what i want'
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essektheylyss · 7 months ago
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I'm not gonna put this on the other post cuz I don't really want it rebloggable but I do want to specify that like, yes I was being dramatic about Essek in terms of affect, but every part of that post is also quite literally a description of my experience with a creative field that is pretty centralized around a few locations and that has made it stringently difficult to enter and stay in the field. There are obviously monumentally different aspects around those circumstances, but like... look I left Los Angeles literally two weeks after the c2 finale with a very clear understanding that once I did, I was not going back, and that because of that, my career would never look like I'd wanted it to in any capacity, and in fact it was likely that it meant I would not work in the field I'd trained for ever again, and also knew it was the only choice that made sense if I wanted to, like, have a life. And I do! And it's great! And it still makes me very upset to think about for many reasons! So you can see why I have a lot of feelings about the whole situation.
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arts-i-enjoy · 10 months ago
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AHHHHHH
#this post brought to you by: me#i. applied for a preapproval letter for a mortgage yesterday. and spoke to a realtor to start finding me houses#i want to move several states away which further complicated things. but the houses there are CHEAP#like under 100k for a 2 bedroom move in ready#anyways i got approved for 80k with a 20k down payment. and im FREAKING THE FUCK OUT#and because i got that pre app letter i have a loan officer calling me today to talk#and we literally work at the same bank so i can SEE that hes active and hasnt read my message#even though its been 45 minutes. KEVIN MESSAGE ME BACK. IM NOT GONNA BE ABLE TO FOCUS UNTIL I DO THIS CALL#AHHHHHHH S C R E A M. it might happening!!!! i might be finally.mov8ng out in a few months!!!#i mgiht be a HOMEOWNER by the end of the year#i have been saving money for this since i was. 16? 17?#ive had a good well paying job since i was 18.#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH#once i have a house then i start job searching in that area. and start getting really serious about LEAVING my very good job#which is soooo scary. this job was supposed to be my lifelong career. but then everyone fucking moved to other states and left me behind#so theres no point staying here.#i might never have this kind of job security again.#but also my realtor said that theres a lot of bank jobs in that area so maybe itll be easy to find something#on the fence on if i tell my parents that im Making Moves right now#on one hand its hard to not talk about it becuae im STRESSED TF OUT#but on the other hand when i tentatively mentioned the state i want to move to#richard started yelling and swearing el oh el#might be better to wait and avoid the tension as long as possible?#but also i dont know how they can stay angry when its literally my best option#the other places where my friends live either have 0 opportunity and high housing prices. or are even moe liberal than where im going#idk. why do half of my problems come down to “my parents will be mad” like im a 12 year old or something. shit fucking sucks#this is why i want to get out of here#also it feels weird and bad to talk to my friends about how stressed i am about buying a house when all of them are stressed about#not being able to make rent or something. my problems feel like a brag in a really odd and shitty way. but hey!#if this works out maybe ill start being stressed about how im going to make my mortgage payments! :') yay!
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dukeofankh · 2 months ago
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If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.
"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.
Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.
Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.
You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."
Problem with that being:
1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.
2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.
3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.
4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.
I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.
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girlivealwaysbean · 6 months ago
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sometimes i miss talking to that one person who didn't NEVER turned it into a competition about who has it worse and never told me well atleast you have [x]
#weirdly i think she was the only one#my irl bestie called and was ranting about her miserable life and#it's the exact same thing ive been going through for years her parents won't let her move to another city#she can't make friends here she hates it here her parents are being overbearing and don't understand the importance of socialising#with people her age and they tell her to just hang out with her family all day and don't give her privact#like. okay. i love her ive been listening to her complain about how her mom comes into her room sometimes. and just#i was okay listening to it okay im no judge for how someone's feeling and my bad might be their worst#but then she goes like well atleast you'll know you'll get to move out after you finish your degree for a job#like. wow okay. atleast you got to enjoy 3 years of college at the coolest city in india atleast you got to have vibrant life experiences#and learned so much about the world made tons of friends visited a hundred places had a boyfriend#went to clubs increased your netword learned how to be street smart and talk well#i hate to be resentful ofcoursr im happy for her and ofc i understand this is a hard time#but like god seriously. she'll never know what it feels like think you'll live your life as you pass 12th because they let your elder siste#go to college and she had the best times and then suddenly you're 17 and they twll you well actually we made a mistake and we won't repeat#it ever so you're just gonna stay home where we watch you 24/7 and ww won't even let you go to classes that have somewhat okayish people#because you can't have friends because they'll distract you from your studies#and she'll never know what it's like working towards a dream everyday that seems so fucking faw away and unreachable#when you're not even good at studying and especially focusing because yeah parents fucked you up majorly!!#like im sorry but try being completely hopeless and alone and isolated losing your friends one by one watching everyone#grow and find themselves as you rot in your room try to do better try to find happiness but it's impossible it's never enough#and try to study for a really fucking hard course in the middle of all that#and then tell me that atleast ill get to go out after i finish#like seriously try fucking living my life for one day and then talk#god i know ive become resentful and bitter because of a thing in my childhood but i don't know how to stop#ugh i never should've picked up the phone i was studying so well before that#anyway. i miss talking to that one person who was sensitive and sweet and encouraging always yk#i miss hearing i completely understand you because im going through the same things (def worse imo) and we'll get through this together#man.#chappell roan was so right actually i hate that i let this go on for so long now i hate myself
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creatingblackcharacters · 13 days ago
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“It’s Giving” AAVE, and the Denied Yet Undeniable Impact of Black Culture
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I grew up knowing it as Ebonics; I didn’t hear 'AAVE' until I was an adult. Apparently it’s used derogatorily- I did not know. But when Robert Williams coined the term in the 70s, its meaning was:
“…the linguistic and paralinguistic features which on a concentric continuum represents the communicative compentence of the West African, Caribbean, and United States idioms, patois, argots, ideolects, and social forces of black people…Ebonics derives its form from ebony (black) and phonics (sound, study of sound) and refers to the study of the language of black people in all its cultural uniqueness.”
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Familiar Examples include but are not limited to:
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The History
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It was unbelievably difficult to find a solely Black perspective on the subject. I’m gonna need everyone to let Black linguists talk, it’s literally their job. Anyway, I need y’all to actually WATCH this video. Don’t skip it thinking I’ll summarize. Watch it. Actually listen. That’s part of the problem to begin with, is not listening. Even if you have to read this lesson later, so be it.
One of the points emphasized in this video was that AAVE was formed of the need to communicate, and specifically to communicate in a way that hid what we were saying and thinking from antagonistic white society.
“…“the disguise language used by enslaved Africans to conceal their conversations from their white slave masters to the lyrics of today’s rap music, [the magical power of] the word has been shaped by a time when, as observed by Harlem newspaper writer Earl Conrad, ‘it was necessary for the Negro to speak and sing and even think in a kind of code.’””
Because it was in a form that white people could not understand, as well as already existing racist biases against the humanity and intelligence of Black people, naturally it was assumed that our way of communicating was ignorant and ‘false’. Even acknowledging it as a valid language was seen as abhorrent, by nonblack and certain Black people.
“For decades, linguists and other educators, pointing to the logic and science of language, have tried to convince people that Black English exists, that isn’t just a politically correct label for a poor version of English but is a valid system of language, with its own consistent grammar. In 1996, with the unanimous support of linguists, the Oakland School Board voted to recognize AAVE, or the more politicized term “Ebonics” (a portmanteau of “Ebony” and “phonics”), as a community language for African American students, a decision which might have opened up much needed additional funding for education. Instead it resulted in intense public backlash and derision due to the still widespread, incorrect belief that Black English was an inferior, uneducated form of English associated with illiteracy, poverty, and crime. It’s hard for a language to get ahead when it keeps getting put down. Some linguists, such as John Russell Rickford, have noted how even sympathetic linguistic research, which has derived a lot of benefit and understanding from Black English grammar, can unknowingly focus on data that represents African American communities negatively, giving “the impression that black speech was the lingo of criminals, dope pushers, teenage hoodlums, and various and sundry hustlers, who spoke only in ‘muthafuckas’ and ‘pussy-copping raps.’” The term “Ebonics” even now is used mockingly by some as a byword for broken English.”"
(Some of) The Rules
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AAVE is a full dialect with grammar and social rules. But the ones most people are familiar with include:
Th becoming D (“dats”)
Double Negative (“I ain’t see nobody”)
Habitual Be (“It’s cuz he be on that phone”)
Possessive s absence (“I’m going to my grandaddy house”)
Question word order (“who that is with the ice cream and cake?”)
Zero copula (“who that?”)
"Why do you talk like that" Would you rather I code switch?
“Code switching, or adjusting one’s normal behavior to fit into an environment, has long been a strategy for BlPOC individuals to navigate interracial interactions successfully. Code switching often occurs in spaces where negative stereotypes of Black individuals run counter to what are considered appropriate or professional behaviors and norms in a specific environment, and regularly happen in work settings.”
In this context, you might recognize it better as “using your white people voice”.
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Some Black Americans, for varying reasons including internalized antiblackness and a desire for assimilation, hate AAVE! Some people will hate that you don’t use AAVE! Never assume we’re all on the same page about its use! My own mother used to be big on speaking ‘proper English’.
Regional Differences
The same way regional differences affect standard pronunciation, it’ll affect the AAVE used. Culture in the area as well will affect the words that come from it. So someone Black using a phrase in Philadelphia might not automatically know what someone Black from Compton is saying.
Someone did their dissertation on this topic, and while I’m going to link the summary for yall to give it a shot, Imma be honest- I do not understand this. I tried. It’s interesting how something that comes so innately, once written out like this is like WHAT. But the research has been done!
Easier examples include:
"Aaron earned an iron urn"- Baltimore
GloRilla and "Mursic"- Memphis
A lot of AAVE from New York City is popularized; so you might hear words from anywhere that originated from Harlem or Queens, or New York Ballroom culture
Tonal Languages
One major source of misunderstanding AAVE is people not understanding tonality. AAVE is often tonal, similar to many African languages, languages in general- meaning that unless you hear it or are innately familiar with how it’s spoken, you might not know HOW I’m saying something and therefore will not understand what I’m trying to convey. Given the history, this was on purpose!
Black language- Black culture in general, really- is often conveyed orally. Everything we say and do is not going to be written down for someone else to study. Doesn’t mean we weren’t saying or doing it. If you want to understand, you have to listen!
“Linguist Margaret G. Lee notes how black speech and verbal expressions have often been found crossing over into mainstream prestige speech, such as in the news, when journalists talk about politicians “dissing” each other, or the New York Times puts out punchy headlines like “Grifters Gonna Grift”. These many borrowings have occurred across major historical eras of African American linguistic creativity. Now-common terms like “you’re the man,” “brother,” “cool,” and “high five” extend from the period of slavery to civil rights, from the Jazz Age to hip-hop: the poetry of the people. This phenomenon reflects how central language and the oral tradition are to the black experience.”
Some examples:
1) "You Good" can mean, depending on how it is said and the context in which it is spoken:
Are you okay?
Do we have a problem?
You’re okay.
You don’t want these problems so chill.
Do you have enough money/resource?
It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.
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2) This was an interesting experience, watching the misunderstanding of AAVE occur live. It’s the realization that people read this as “This is something Bugs Bunny would wear” versus “Bugs Bunny would wear the fuck outta that outfit”. But if you didn’t know that, if you aren’t familiar with the tonality of AAVE, of course you’d think the first one is what it meant! And it's not wrong-wrong - he would wear it, but that's not necessarily all it meant.
3) “Chill-ay” versus “Chile”. Yeah, we didn’t forget that. This is often why AAVE is used to sound “aggressive” on the internet- if you perceive (however subconsciously) how Black people speak is aggressive, then when you decide to emulate my speech in your moment of aggression, it is because you think my Blackness will make you seem more intimidating! You find Blackness… intimidating. Same reason you think it makes you funnier than if you were to deliver the same joke using your own dialect. It means the jokes not funny; my language is what’s funny.
Black American Sign Language
We even communicate differently in sign language; there’s an entire history and culture behind the Black deaf experience.
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“In April 2020, Nakia Smith, aka Charmay, created a TikTok account introducing five generations of her Black Deaf family and how they communicate in Black ASL. As a social media influencer of Black ASL content, Charmay made a series of educational and informative videos on the history and practice of Black ASL. Charmay’s video went viral, landing in a New York Times article, Black, Deaf and Extremely Online, and Blavity: TikToker Has Gone Viral For Putting The Culture On To Black American Sign Language. Additionally, Netflix requested Charmay to explain the difference between Black ASL and ASL.”
Everyone doesn’t speak AAVE!
If your Black character is not Black American, and has never once been connected with Black American culture or people, they are probably NOT going to speak AAVE! They’re going to speak whatever dialect THEY have! And that doesn’t make it any less “Black” of them!
Different dialects and languages across the diaspora include but are certainly not limited to:
Black British English
Haitian Creole
Gullah
Jamaican and Caribbean Patois
Everyone Owes Rihanna an Apology
Y’all remember the song Work. I know you do. It was mainstream’s love and joy when this song dropped to be overtly racist about it, Black Americans included. Everyone claimed it was ‘gibberish’, that she was just mimicking language on a song and ‘it would be popular’.
Meanwhile, it was her singing in her native island patois! The people who spoke her language understood it! Anybody who actually tried to understand it, understood it! Another popular song, Sean Paul’s Temperature, is also in patois! And I thought we loved that song!
So next time Black people speak and you find yourself thinking- ‘wow, this makes no sense’, I want you to think to yourself: ‘does it make no sense, or do I just lack the context/knowledge/language to understand it?’
NOW THAT WE’VE HAD SOME EXPLANATION BEHIND THE LANGUAGE!
Writing AAVE
Me personally, I admit I don’t like it being used in stories where it is clear the author doesn’t understand the dialect, or where it’s clear the only person who speaks it is the “Black character who OMG DID I TELL YOU THEY WERE BLACK”. I’d rather it be the regular Queen’s English. We speak that too. I’m not going to decry your fanfiction or your regular modern-day original story as “bad” if you choose to use whatever language your region commonly uses. We know how to speak it. We will be okay. Using AAVE is not going to sell me that this character is “Black” if the rest of the character writing is still bad.
If it means that much to you, because it is important to the character, then you as the writer need to commit to learning proper AAVE! This isn’t going to be a “look up every turn of phrase on google” or “ask Ice what every single thing means”. You’re going to have to do what everyone who learns a language does- immerse yourself in it! If you can’t be bothered to learn my language, I’m going to know that when I read your work.
Obviously if there’s a context where the Black people involved do not know how to speak a language, it is perfectly fine to show that, as long as you are showing that it’s not due to some innate stupidity or other stereotype that this person cannot communicate the same way others communicate around them.
“The N Word”
I know someone’s thinking it, so let’s address it. There’s a translation for this word in damn near every language that’s ever come across Black people. So don’t go “oh we don’t have that word in my language-” I bet money you do.
Yes, it could be used in historical context- the ‘hard -er’. Yes, it could be used in social context- the ‘-a’. It follows the tonality rules I discussed earlier; that is, the way it’s used and who is using it makes ALL the difference in how it will be received.
Everyone is not on the same page about the use of this word within our community. Some Black people think it should never be used, period, even by us! Some Black people think that it should be reclaimed and use it as such! The only thing we’re on the same page about is that YOU should not be using it.
I say this to say to nonblack writers: put the pen down.
My stance is, if you can’t understand AAVE, you CERTAINLY aren’t going to be able to incorporate the social use of this word. Period. If you scared of the potential smoke incurred if you fuck it up- and if we see it, you will catch it- don’t bother. Trying to “write realistically” does not cut it. You should be doing everything in your power to understand and write a great Black character in all ways before ever thinking this is something you should do. In fact, if you're that thirsty to use this word, you have some other things you need to consider.
In the historical context, just watch yourself. If you’re gonna drop that word, you need to be damn well-researched on every other aspect of Black life and oppression in whatever era you’re writing. Just dropping this word to say “life is racist” shows a lazy lack of understanding of antiblackness. You don’t even have to drop the whole word. A “ni-” at the end of the sentence is enough for me to know exactly where we’re going! But if you not gone do the rest of the work… you know what they say about stupid games.
The Fundamental Disrespect
If you watched the prior videos (and you should have) and paid attention up to this point, you have already heard the struggles that both AAVE as a dialect and those that speak it go through.
There’s a societal connotation of stupidity, aggression, and silliness behind the way I speak. None of those things are true, and it’s hard to be told that even the way you communicate with others is bad.
But the other reason it’s so hard is because we spend our lives hearing that those are the connotations… when WE speak it. It is not the language- it’s ME that makes it so! And that gets into the other part of this lesson, something that AAVE is oft victim to.
This part is a little scarier for me to write, because people don’t like it when you talk about Black Americans as a separate entity from the US of A as it is known. I’m gonna put on my political hat for a second, but I promise this ties into my overall point so stick with me!
Stolen Cultural Hegemony
The reality is that the United States of America has forced a cultural hegemony upon the planet (amongst other forms). Yes. That is due to the capitalism, colonialism, imperialism and damn near just about every other -ism at the US government and military’s disposal. I am not saying that part somehow changes, of course not. That’s just facts. There are people far smarter than I (Edward Said, take the wheel) who could explain this far better. But I’m only here to explain this one point.
What DOESN’T get acknowledged is how much of what is deemed American pop culture across the world is both 1) stolen 2) Black culture! We do not have equivalent political power despite what our hypervisibility would suggest, but our social currency is raw diamond- so naturally, it has to be plundered! The white American dollar might mean far more than my life, but it’ll pay for my creations- even more so when I’m not involved!
The issue is that if your society says that I am less than, how can you justify how you covet everything I create? If I’m supposed to be so much less than you, why do you seek my language, my fashion, my music, my body? Why do you feel entitled to my creation, but you think you should have it… Without me?
Sit on that one for a second!
Appropriation of AAVE
Let's refer back to that chart at the beginning. How many of these have you seen or even used before? How long did it take for you to know it was AAVE? Don’t get me started on the influence of AAVE in queer spaces!
Of course I’m going to get started. Ballroom culture, created by Black and Latino people in New York City in the 80s (Paris is Burning, anyone?), has spawned so much popular “gay” lingo, and it’s not even just “gay”- it’s of color! Black English in particular is the source of many of the words that queer people use now in casual conversation, brought into the ballrooms, normalized, and then proliferated with other communities.
I can always tell when a new phrase from AAVE has hit nonblack audiences because it’ll suddenly be in every sentence I see, often butchered. Remember that historical context- of having to speak in code. Have you ever considered why AAVE is always evolving? Why we have to find new ways to communicate with each other? Have you considered that when people are constantly taking and misplacing your words, they may lose meaning or value, and so you have to come up with something else?
Appropriation of Black Music
Jazz, swing, the blues, disco, rock and roll, pop, even rap and hiphop have all been subject to appropriation- intentional or not. Far more intentional than you might want to believe. And it all comes back to money!
White audiences in the 1900s loved Black music- as long as they didn’t know Black people were singing it! Often, songs would be completely lifted and given to white bands to re-record. When Frankie Lymon first came on stage to perform, some of the audience was stunned! Even you know Itty Bitty Pretty One!
A more modern-day example: not to pick on the K-Poppies, but unfortunately it’s a low hanging branch example.
What K-Pop groups are doing now is heavily influenced what Black pop, rap, and R&B artists were doing from the late 90s to this very day. Part of the reason I enjoy K-Pop is because it reminds me of the stuff I used to listen to growing up. How many times have you heard someone think a Korean rapper in a K-Pop group is “fine”, but “don’t like” rap otherwise? Or will listen to K-Pop groups, but have very few to no one Black of the same sound on their playlists?
Examples:
Rover by Kai (2023) vs Swalla by Jason Derulo (2017)- Idk how popular Kai is outside of EXO, but I do know that some influence was had. And I like the song, btw! I prefer the music video! It’s just not the first time it’s been done!
Sweet Juice by Purple Kiss (2023) vs Say It Right by Nelly Furtado on a Timbaland beat (2006)
Taemin and Michael Jackson, period. Taemin having a song called The Rizzness. How did ‘rizz’ get to him? How did he know? More relevantly, how did the people who wrote his music know? How did something that started with Black people in Baltimore get all the way to Taemin in South Korea without influence?
I’ll use another example, so it doesn’t feel like I’m picking on K-Pop. I’m currently listening to CĂN NHÀ TRANH MÁI LÁ (Vietnamese, if you couldn’t tell) and as much of a banger as it is, with its own amazing cultural spin on the delivery… it is CLEARLY influenced by Black American rap. He nicknamed himself Vietgunna. Yall.
A non-American musical example: Afrobeats has taken the music industry by storm… How many of those people who enjoy an afrobeat from a nonblack artist will enjoy it from Wizkid or TEMS?
Those polls, where they ask how many Black artists you listen to… try paying attention to see just how much of your music takes inspiration from Black creators, but there’s a non-equivalent amount of Black artists that you support!
Political Bastardization of Powerful Black Colloquialisms
The appropriation of Black English isn’t always for entertainment. Sometimes, it’s a purposeful, malicious tactic to demean the words, and therefore the intent behind them.
“Woke”
“Michael Harriot, columnist at TheGrio and author of the upcoming book, Black AF History: The Unwhitewashed Story of America, explains that this kind of insidious takeover and flipping of Black vernacular to anti-Black pejorative has numerous parallels in America’s past and runs all the way up to present day. “When you look at the long arc of history and America’s reaction to the request for Black liberation – every time Black people try to use a phrase or coin a phrase that symbolizes our desire for liberation, it will eventually become a cuss word to white people,” Harriot says in an interview with [Legal Defense Fund]. It’s perhaps this very context — Black people’s awareness of their history and their power to resist injustice — that made woke so ripe for the pernicious mutation it has now undergone. Indeed, the forced transformation of the colloquialism echoes how countless other Black ideas and intellectual contributions have been maligned. “When people during the civil rights movement began saying ‘Black power,’ all of a sudden it became a term that people equated with communism and anti-white sentiment — and then it eventually gave birth to ‘white power,’” Harriot tells LDF. “The ‘1619 Project’ [which centers the ramifications of slavery and the contributions of Black people in American history] has become an insult. ‘Black Lives Matter’ became an ‘anti-white sentiment’ that was banned in school and spawned ‘all lives matter’ and ‘blue lives matter.’”
#SayHerName
This discourse is happening again, it happens like every six months on here, and it’s one of the things on here that fills me with a hatred that I struggle with every single time. It is hard, I literally feel that hatred in the pit of my chest right now as I type this.
Kimberle Crenshaw (Black woman and the originator of the legal term ‘intersectionality’), the Center for Intersectionality and Social Policy Studies, and African American Policy Forum coined the hashtag in 2014. TWENTY FOURTEEN.
It was meant to highlight the violent deaths of Black women and girls at the hands of police, which happens at a high rate like Black men and boys, but often goes far less acknowledged. By appropriating the hashtag, you are actively choosing to speak over the very names and deaths of Black women and girls we don’t know, because we are NOT SAYING THEM, and therefore are allowing those deaths to continue as though they do not matter.
I’m going to stop before I get more upset. But know what violence you’re contributing to in your negligence.
How to Avoid Cultural Appropriation while Showing Appreciation
Everything is obviously not appropriation. It is possible for people to appreciate, replicate, and take influence without being disrespectful! It happens! And because it is possible, is why it’s so infuriating that it does not.
It’s frustrating that when something is on me, it’s ghetto, ugly, ignorant. But when it’s on the right stick thin pale girl, it’s chic, it’s fashionable, it’s new. So if it’s not the language, and it’s not the fashion or music you don’t like… It must be… Me. I am somehow not worthy of respect for the very culture I create.
Can you imagine being told that? That you are not worthy of being… you?
If you are worried about cultural appropriation, both in your writing and in your life, the easiest way to avoid that is to:
1) acknowledge and support the culture that created what you’re saying or doing and
2) actually treat them like human beings instead of zoo animals or a species to study. Show respect! It’s not hard!
This is my body, my language, my creation. It’s not just to entertain you! It’s my life! I talk like this because this is how I speak, not because I want to get Tiktok cool points. If I’m around people who treat the way I talk like childish babble, it makes me feel stupid and disrespected. We can see that, and we can read it in your writing.
And yes, you may be saying “well none of that is unique to AAVE, that’s how other languages work!” Okay then go speak those languages then lmao. But if you’re absolutely determined to understand and utilize mine, then you need to treat it with respect and not like the Gen Z slang babble (or worse- the threat) y’all treat it as. It’s a form of antiblackness that is so normalized that we don’t even think about it… but now that you’ve read this lesson, you can start! You can start taking the time to actively dedicate a thought to what you’re saying and doing and where it came from. You can take the time to notice when something isn’t right- and maybe even choose to speak up, because it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers.
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pomefioredove · 8 months ago
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now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending
summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up
crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake
he acts so... casual about it?
swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"
"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"
okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you
"To what?"
Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."
(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)
Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices
"So you'll let me go once you get me?"
"Uhhh..."
Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him
Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him
(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)
Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess
even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast
you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!
of all the irresponsible things...
of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too
purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble
he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours
of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too
going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?
I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?
actually don't answer that
...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie
but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?
for one, you'd make a really good pillow
he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that
and malleus would hate it
...that's reason enough for him
plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?
either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie
news travels fast around school, after all
then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed
that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!
besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!
so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price
he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now, Azul is annoyed
once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about
talk about good marketing...
why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!
of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary
it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one
Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof
though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion
a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around
and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says
"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"
hint: he is not
the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it
(AKA infinite sleepovers)
and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!
he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in
right next to his of course :)
and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you
after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him
You don't always get what you want
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable
he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner
with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...
when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs
oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?
of all the silly, immature things...
oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding
(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)
Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile
but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately
with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"
Idia understandably freaks out
"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"
(liar)
(...but this is still different)
the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus
"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."
Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"
"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"
"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"
Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege
Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made
he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident
though, of course, he goes to you first
seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week
and he's in a great mood!
"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"
you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"
"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"
you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"
"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"
certainly he's not this naive, you think
"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"
he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"
huh. that was a strange way of putting it
but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it
and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!
"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"
he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"
"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"
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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months ago
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Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officer
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Summary: After Javi brings home a pair of handcuffs from work, your plans for the night start to look very different.
Word Count: 7.2K (she got away from me real fast)
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v (It's implied that Javi got the snip, we're good y'all), oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, sex toys, roleplay (kind of? Javi's got access to handcuffs and you're giving him enough attitude to bring out the brat tamer in him 😵‍💫), rough sex, creampie, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, dom!javi (but still the same sweet, soft Javi that we all know and love who loves his wife), a sprinkle of a breeding kink (because it's trademark at this point), heavy on the praise kink, sexting, safe word/consent (hawt), spanking (not that hard), one AFFECTIONATE use of slut!, Javi is our aftercare king (are we surprised? no.) Javi's mouth is so filthy I'm washing my own out with soap, I'm not gonna lie to y'all, this is NASTY and I don't think I've ever put this many warnings for something lmao (also, still fluff and dad!Javi because I say so)
A/N: ....... Soooooooo, yeahhhhhhhh. This is hands down the filthiest thing I've ever written 🤠 Steppin' a little out of my normal comfort zone for this one- idk what's in the water this month, but I think someone may have to come put me out to pasture pretty soon!!!! Checking myself into horny prison with a life sentence!!!!! I hope you guys enjoy, I know it's different than the norm, but lemme know what you think 🥺 Thanks for supporting me through my horny endeavors, ily all!!!
The days of chasing down bad guys and capturing criminals were a thing of the past for Javier Peña- at this point, the closet he'd come to his past life in Columbia in his position at the Laredo Sheriff's Department was using every ounce of patience he had to deal with his knuckle headed co-workers whenever they did something stupid.
While the job title "Border Protections Consultant" provided Javi with a much quieter and calmer life than working as a DEA agent, when his daughters had asked him to come in for Career Day, their classmates were convinced that he might as well have been straight out of "Men in Black."
Unfortunately for the other parents who had decided to show, Javi's appearance had out shadowed any of the other jobs after his daughters classes had learned he worked for the Police Department to help catch "bad guys" (even if the better part of the class had decided to ignore the fact he wasn't the one physically going out to stop them).
After showing off some cool accessories he had brought with him from the department and sharing some watered down, age appropriate stories to make his presentation more interesting, the Peña girls were the talk of the town at Alma Pierce Elementary, riding the high of being dubbed "The Kids With the Coolest Dad" by everyone in their class, especially after he signed them out early with promises of slushies before heading home.
So when Javi and the girls arrived back to the house, it was no shock to you that your daughters were still beaming with excitement about their dad's celebrity appearance.
"Mommy, Mommy!" Lucy, your oldest squealed as she burst through the door, dropping her backpack with a thud to greet you in the kitchen, "Dad had the best job at all of Career Day. All the kids in my class said he was the coolest one."
"Oh was he now?" You smirked, watching as Javi and your other two daughters, Elliot and Harper, trailed behind Lucy, equally beaming with excitement.
"Yeah! That's what all the kids in my class said too!" Elliot exclaimed, plopping herself down next to her sister at one of the barstools at your kitchen island.
"Me too!" Harper added, finding her usual spot next to her sisters.
"Looks like someone's reached celebrity status." You giggled, playfully raising your eyebrows at Javi as he came to greet you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other dropped his work bag on the countertop, pulling you closer for a kiss.
"What's a celebrity?" Harper asked, staring at her sisters in confusion.
"Someone who's like, really famous." Lucy answered, Elliot nodding adamantly in agreement that her dad was, in fact, their elementary school's newest celebrity.
"So I take it the presentation went well then?" You asked, shrugging at Javi, trying not to blush with pride from his daughter's admiration.
"Guess so." Javi replied, shedding his suit jacket and tossing it next to his bag, loosening his tie and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows before reaching in one of your cabinets to grab a glass of water.
"Dad told our class about how he helps catch bad guys and put them in jail, for like, forever."
"And he told everyone about how a long time ago, before he was old, that he used to go run through the streets and catch people and put them in handcuffs!"
"He even brought in handcuffs for everyone to see!"
The last comment most definitely caught your attention, crossing your arms over your chest and tilting your head at Javi, trying your best to keep from letting a suspicious smirk spread across your face.
"Oh? Daddy brought handcuffs? Daddy doesn't normally use handcuffs at his job. I wish I would have gotten to see them."
While your girls would have never noticed anything unusual about your question, Javi was nearly choking on the sip of water he had just taken, very clearly understanding the implications of what you had just asked, coughing a few times as he tried to compose himself.
"Are you okay, Daddy?" Harper asked, looking at Javi with concern.
"Yeah, I'm- I'm good, baby. Just didn't know Mommy wanted to um- wanted to see my handcuffs so badly." Javi stammered, glancing over at you with a devilish look in his eyes.
"You should show her! They're really cool, Mom!" Lucy proposed, her sisters nodding along in agreement, blissfully unaware of the tension rapidly thickening between you and Javi.
"Um- y-yeah, maybe later, Lu." Javi stuttered, still keeping eye contact with you as he answered his daughter, "Why don't you guys um- why don't you guys go play outside for a little bit."
"Really?! Before homework?!" Elliot squealed in surprise and delight.
"Yeah, go- go play. Mom and I will come get you guys in a few."
Javi could barely finish his sentence before your girls were sprinting to the backyard, leaving you and your husband alone in the kitchen in a silent stare down until the backdoor was shut behind them.
"Man, you must reallllyy wanna show me those handcuffs, Javi." You cooed, tongue darting out of your mouth as you bit down on your lip, getting a kick out of how rattled one little comment had made him.
"You better be careful with that shit, Hermosa." Javi groaned, stepping towards you, hands sliding down your back until they were groping your ass, slowly kneading the soft flesh in his hands.
"Yeah? Or what? You gonna use them on me?" You mewled, whispering in Javi's ear, the hot breath of your words making him audibly moan, taking a deep inhale and exhale to try and keep from busting right then and there.
"Jesus fucking christ- If you're gonna keep teasing me like this, then maybe I fucking should." Javi sighed, pulling you closer to feel the bulge hardening in his slacks, pressed against your thigh.
"Is that a threat, or a promise, Officer?"
At this point, you knew you were playing dirty, but you couldn't help hit, sultry smile spread across your lips at the way Javi's jaw had gone slack, practically hitting the floor in horny disbelief that your night was about to take such drastic turn.
"Depends, has sido una chica mala (have you been a bad girl)?" Javi hummed, voice rumbling deep in his chest as his grip around you tightened, eyes growing dark with lust, watching you play innocent, batting your lashes up at him.
"Para ti? Si. (For you? Yes.)"
Letting out a low, quite laugh, Javi shook his head before reaching one of his hands up, wrapping his fingers around your jaw and top half of your neck, forcing your gaze up at him and his smug snarl.
"Then it's a promise." He paused, the two of you staring at each other with a silent thrill of excitement pulsing through your veins. "Go pack the girl's bags, I'm dropping them off at my Dad's."
"Javi, are you sure? It's a Friday night, we can't just drop them at your dad's like this last minute. What if he-"
"Talked to him earlier this week. I know he's not busy. Even if he was, he'd drop whatever it was to have a sleepover with the girls. Like I really need to twist his arm to watch them."
"Okay, well what are we gonna tell him when he asks why we're dropping them off unplanned?" You retorted, knowing Javi wasn't wrong, but feeling bad for springing your girls unsuspectingly onto your father-in-law.
"That it's an emergency." Javi shrugged, his mouth working faster than his brain to find an answer to your question.
"Being horny isn't an emergency, Jav." You sighed, rolling your eyes at your husband.
"I'll figure something out. And if you keep talking like that to me, it most definitely is an emergency." Javi smirked, gaze of his reassuring, sweet brown eyes winning you over with ease.
"Okay. Go call your dad, I'll get the girls ready." You grinned, anticipation bursting at your seams as Javi raced to the back door, throwing it open to yell out to your daughters.
"Pollitas (little chickens)! Come inside, we're going to Abuelo's!"
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The two of you were convinced you'd never worked faster to get your daughters out the door, frantically throwing together their sleepover bags with their help before Javi was nearly tossing them into his truck, the girls none the wiser and happy as could be to have a surprise sleepover with Chucho.
"Thanks again for watchin' em, Pops. We'll come pick them up in the morning." Javi nodded, giving his dad a quick hug after dropping off Lucy, Elliot and Harper, who had blessed him with a short and sweet goodbye as they rushed off to the barn to go feed the horses, leaving Javi to part ways with his dad.
"Of course, hijo. You know I love having mis nietas (my granddaughters) here, even when it's a surprise. I must have missed it on the phone, but what was so urgent? Not that I'm complaining." Chucho asked, resting his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, patiently waiting for his son's response.
"It um- something uh- something came up, and I-" Javi stammered, face turning bright red as his eyes darted towards the ground, trying to come up with some sort of bold faced lie off the top of his head before his dad cut him off.
"I thought I done getting grandkids?" Chucho smirked, relishing in Javi's uncomfortability, having a sneaking suspicion exactly why his son had made such a quick and urgent request.
"Jesus, Dad..." Javi sighed, burying his face in his hands to try and hide his embarrassment, not confirming or denying his father's acquisitions.
"Makes me happy to know you two are still very much in love." Chucho chuckled, patting his son on the back.
"Okay, I'm gonna go now," Javi huffed, scrunching his face in shame, giving his dad one more awkward hug before trotting back to his truck, "Thanks, Pops."
"Don't mention it, Javier. Take your time tomorrow. Tell your wonderful wife I say hello and that I hope the two of you have a fun night toget-"
"Jesus Christ... Bye, dad." Javi groaned, climbing into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming the door behind him as Chucho disappeared into the house, giddily laughing to himself.
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Meanwhile, while Javi was busy dropping off the girls (insisting that you didn't come, because he'd have zero self control if you did), you had decided to go digging through the back of your underwear drawer, looking to find something to surprise Javi with when he returned home.
You pulled out a few choices, tossing them onto your bed to browse through before finding a black, lacy set you had almost forgotten about- the delicate, barely there, see through lace of the bra paired with the equally as skimpy thong seeming like an ideal option for the night ahead of you.
If you weren't already thrumming with enough anticipation as you changed into your new attire, your phone lit up on your nightstand, buzzing as Javi's name popped up on the screen.
Javi: Leaving Pops. Be back in 20.
You stared up at the clock, quietly calculating Javi's arrival time before you were interrupted by another vibration.
Javi: Wait on the bed for me. Don't touch yourself until I'm back.
You could almost hear Javi's voice, commanding you with just enough sternness, but not enough to stop you from pushing the limits just a little.
Grabbing your phone, you opened up your camera, dropping to your knees in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, seductively posing to tease just enough of your surprise to get Javi home to you in 12 minutes instead of 20.
You: Yeah? And what if I do? 😉
You smirked as you sent your text and picture, giggling to yourself at Javi's near immediate response.
Javi: Fuck me. You're so fucking sexy.
Javi: Your pussy's all mine tonight. Be a good girl and do what you're told. Bad girls get punished.
You: Maybe I wanna be punished 😏
Javi: Careful what you wish for baby. See u soon.
You could already feel your stomach swelling with arousal, your text messages alone beginning to soak a damp patch into the lace of your thong, making the fabric clinging around your swollen and puffy pussy, leaving you with a throbbing ache between your legs.
You wandered over to your nightstand, searching around the back, just like you had done with your dresser, looking through the few toys kept there. It had been a while since any of them had made an appearance in your bedroom, not because you or Javi were opposed to it, but because with how religiously Javi wanted to be the one who made you feel good, it wasn't often they were going to use unless you were uncontrollably horny and Javi wasn't home.
And even though at this point he'd be home in 15 minutes, right now, you found yourself in both of those categories, the added layer of seeing if he'd make good on his threat only turning you on more.
With the way your clit was throbbing and cunt clenching around nothing, you opted for your rabbit vibrator, climbing into bed with the toy as you settled yourself into the pillows, lying on your back and spreading your legs to try and ease the ache between them.
You ran the head of the toy over the soaked fabric of your panties a few times before pulling the damp lace to the side, shuttering as it brushed against your clit. With how wet you were from want, you easily slid the tip of the toy into your entrance, sinking it deeper into your pussy until the smaller end was hitting against your sensitive bundle of nerves. You whimpered at the sensation- still feeling no where near as good as what Javi would, but finally easing the fluttering of your pussy and throbbing of your clit was enough to give you temporary relief for now.
You thanked whatever lucky stars were out there in the universe that your vibrator had battery power left, clicking it on to feel the low hum shoot through your lower half, making you squirm against the sheets.
You lazily dragged the vibrator in and out of your heat, just enough to prod against your g-spot without leaving your clit untouched, imagining Javi's length thrusting in and out of you while the worn pads of his fingers circled your throbbing nub, whispering filthy, sweet nothings into your ear as he fucked you.
"That's it, pretty girl. Make yourself feel good. So fucking wet, making such a mess for me."
You threw your head back on the pillow, clamping your eyes shut as you let the scene continue you to play out in your head, turning up the intensity of your vibrator as you rocked it faster and deeper into your cunt.
"You're taking it so well, baby. My good girl. There you go. Pretty little pussy wants to cum so bad, huh? Greedy thing couldn't wait for me to take care of her like I asked?"
You were so caught up in your own pleasure that you could have sworn you'd heard Javi speaking to you. Too lost in your imagination, you didn't stop, feeling your orgasm beginning to creep through your body. So lost, that you didn't hear the heavy footsteps padding their way to the edge of the bed or broad body looming over you.
"Just couldn't wait until I got back, huh?"
Your eyes shot open, the all too familiar low and sultry laugh much too real for you to have imagined, looking up to see Javi standing over you, hands on his hips as he watched you fuck yourself on your vibrator.
"Javi! J-jesus, baby. You scared the shit outta me." You huffed, trying to catch your breath as you scrambled to turn off your vibrator, whining at the loss as you pulled the soaking toy out of you, sitting up straighter on the bed.
"Wouldn't have scared the shit out of you if you did what you were told." Javi tutted, smirking to himself, "You gonna be a good girl and do what you're told, or am I gonna have to teach my pretty little wife a lesson about following directions?"
Before you could say anything, Javi was grabbing you by the hips, pulling you to the edge of the bed so your legs dangled off the mattress, letting him lean in to give you a desperate kiss, tongues and teeth clashing in a messy fight. With his hands frantically roaming your body, tracing over your lacy silhouette, he pulled away from your kiss just enough to let the words of his whisper dance against your skin.
"Donut. If it's too much. Repeat it back to me."
"Donut." You moaned, nodding your head in agreement at your safe word.
"You promise you'll tell me if it's too much? I don't wanna hurt you, amor." Javi asked, the familiar sweet and sensitive concern of your husband unveiling itself through your facade, puppy eyes locking with yours for confirmation.
"I promise. Damelo, Papi. (Give it to me, Daddy). "
As soon as your eyes locked in harmony, giving Javi your promise, the once sweet and innocent gaze had now turned to something much darker, the brown of his pupils pooling with lust, reaching behind you to grab the vibrator laying on the comforter, still covered in your slick.
Dropping to his knees, Javi parted your thighs, settling himself between them to admire the wet, puffy mess you had already made by yourself, running his fingers over the lacy fabric that had been barely covering it up, tugging it tight like a rubber band before letting it slap against your pussy, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you.
"She's crying for me, isn't she, baby? Poor thing. Trying to fuck yourself on this, wishing it was my cock, weren't you?" Javi scolded mockingly, turning on the vibrator and running it through your folds, teasing you everywhere but where you wanted to be touched.
"Y-yes. Wanna cum all around your cock, Javi." You moaned, face scrunching as he slid the toy up and down your weeping slit.
"But bad girls don't always get what they want, do they? Sometimes," He paused, slipping the toy into your hole until the longer curve was flushed to your g-spot and the shorter to your clit, "sometimes, they have to beg for what they want. You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?"
"Make me."
The words rolled off your tongue with a bratty confidence, a challenge you knew damn well he'd accept. Javi turned on the vibrator, cranking it up to it's highest setting, tongue running over his teeth as he watched your body jolt, grabbing fist fulls of your bedsheets to brace yourself.
"Oh fuck-" You muttered, swallowing hard, trying to suppress the shock of pleasure that had ignited in you as the vibrator thrummed at full force, Javi pushing it right up against the soft spongy spot inside he knew drove you wild, making sure the other part of the toy stayed nestled between your folds.
Javi could see your pussy beginning to flutter, clenching tighter around the toy as arousal began to seep out of your hole, pressing the vibrator deeper into you, only egging your impending orgasm on further.
"I know you wanna cum, baby. Ask nicely before I make you beg for it." Javi groaned, the hand not holding the vibrator now digging into your hip, holding you in place.
"N-no." You stammered, confidence wavering as you felt the tingle at the base of your spine start to spread rapidly through your body. Gripping tighter onto the tangled sheets, you felt your legs begin to tremble, cunt clamping down around the toy, about to cross the finish line until-
"Fuck! Nononono, Javi- fuck!" You cried out, whimpering as Javi yanked the vibrator from your cunt, leaving you empty and aching, the near high of your almost orgasm quickly dissipating.
"What's it gonna be, Hermosa? You gonna be good for me now?" Javi mewled, snarky smile spread between his lips watching your chest heave with heavy breaths after leaving you on the brink of collapse.
"Fuck- No. Make me, Javi." You huffed back, trying to keep cocky as if you weren't seconds away from crumbling under his touch.
Javi's response was nothing but a low laugh to himself, turning the vibrator back on high and stuffing it into your hole, fucking you with it more intensely than before. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, jaw going slack as the feeling of the fullness and buzzing consumed you, putting you back on edge of where you just were moments ago.
The only thought you could process was how close you were cumming, cunt throbbing and pulsing around your vibrator, body trembling with need as the coil in your stomach was about to snap.
"J-Javi, Javi, I-" You stammered, trying to string together a coherent sentence.
"What, baby? You gonna cum?" Javi asked, taunting you with his tone.
You tried your best to nod your head, nearly there, thinking that Javi would give in, only to let out another wanton cry as he pulled out the vibrator again, even more desperate and empty than before.
"Fuckfuckfuck! No, fuck! Javi, no-" You sobbed, white knuckling your sheets, bucking your hips into nothing, "Javi, let me cum. I wanna- fuck- I wanna cum!"
"Brats don't get to cum, cariño." Javi tutted, tossing the vibrator to the edge of the bed, caging your body under his, teeth nipping across your skin, hands cupping your lace covered breasts, fingers slipping under the fabric to tweak your pebbled nipples while his mouth met yours. "You want it? You get on your knees and beg for it like a good girl."
"And what if I don't? What if I don't wanna listen, Agent Peña?" You retorted, staring up at him with a devilish grin, trying to egg him on enough to reach for the handcuffs he had dangling out of the back of his pants pocket.
Reaching down to snake your hand between your bodies to try and rub your clit, you were stopped in your tracks, Javi wrapping is hand firmly around your wrist, grabbing it, and your other free arm to pin both your wrists to the bed above your head in his grasp.
He paused for a moment, looking down at you for a silent confirmation that you were comfortable with what was about to happen next, both of your heart beats pounding in your ears as you gave him a subtle, but adamant nod, biting down on your bottom lip with a sultry grin.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Fuck me-" He murmured to himself, trying to keep from laughing under his breath from pure exhilarated elation, breaking his stern facade. After a brief moment of self-composure, Javi was digging in the back pocket of his slacks, pulling out the shiny, silver pair of handcuffs that had gotten you in this position in the first place. "Either you listen, or I make you fucking listen, Hermosa."
"I'm sorry, Officer, I never have been a good listener." You cooed, batting your lashes and pouting at him with the big doe eyes and plush bottom lip, watching something animalistic begin to consume him.
In a sudden and frantic dance of limbs, Javi was clipping his handcuffs around your wrists, leaving enough room to wiggle them without pain in the confines of the cool metal, but with nowhere near enough room you were breaking free from them without his help. Bringing your now locked arms from above your head to in front of your chest, Javi was manhandling you off the edge of the bed to the ground, settling you to your knees in front of him.
A feverish thrill ran through you as you watched Javi undo his belt, metal buckle clanging as he shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, his painfully hard cock springing free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a trail of precum on the bottom of his shirt.
Your mouth watered as you watched his length bob in front of you, wishing your hands were free to wrap your fingers around his base, stroking him while you lubed him up with your spit and his precum before taking him into your mouth. Instead, it was Javi running his hand along his shaft, the other reaching down to thumb at your bottom lip, coaxing your jaw to go slack for him.
"Open." He commanded, tapping the tip of his cock against your tongue as you stuck it out, the warm and salty dribble of his precum leaking into your mouth.
Javi gleamed watching as your thighs clenched together beneath you, wiggling to try and give yourself any kind of friction as your slick coated the inside of your legs. He ran his hand across your cheek, cradling the back of your head as he ran his fingers through your messy hair, grabbing a fist full near the base of your neck to yank your gaze up at him.
"Could have cum by now if weren't gonna be sucha brat, baby girl. I know you want me to fuck you so bad. You wish that I was stuffed so fucking deep inside you, huh? But you're so fucking greedy for my cock, you'll take it wherever I give it to you, won't you?" Javi huffed, nostrils flaring as you nodded your head, his tip still resting on your tongue before your lips wrapped around the head of his shaft, taking him into your mouth as your tongue ran along the length of the thick vein pulsing in his cock.
With a subtle shift of his hips, Javi was thrusting himself deeper inside your throat, making you hollow your cheeks and breath through your nose, the curls at his base filling your nostrils with his sweet and musky scent.
“So greedy, you'll let me fuck this pretty little mouth of yours, won't you?” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching you fill with his length, "You're gonna be a good girl and let me stuff your throat so full of my cock that it'll fuck that bratty mouth right out of you, won't it, hermosa?"
His other hand met his first, cupping the back of your head while he fucked into you, hitting the back of your throat as tears welled in your eyes and drool pooled from your lips as his cock consumed your mouth. You nodded your head, looking up at him with teeth gritted and eyes darkened, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull, so demanding yet desperate at the same time.
"And after I fuck your mouth, I'm gonna fuck the brat out of you with my tongue," he paused, drawing back to slam his dick to the back of your throat, "I'm gonna fuck you with my cock," He paused again, repeating the motion, wetness dripping down your eyes and mouth from your tears and saliva, "I'm gonna fuck you 'till you're begging me to stop, because who does this pussy belong to, baby?"
Jerking back his hips, he freed his cock from your mouth, leaving you coughing as you tried to clear your throat, completed wrecked in the best way, the thick and musky tang of him still lingering on your tongue.
"It's yours, Javi. My pussy is yours, baby." You whimpered, your mask of cocky confidence now fading to reveal rampant your need and want, your pussy too painfully aching to hide it any longer.
Javi grunted, lifting you off the ground to guide you to your bed, letting your back bounce against the mattress as Javi once again settled between your thighs, slinging your legs over his broad shoulders.
You looked down to see his eyes widen as he admired the absolute wreck that had pooled between your legs, slick smearing your cunt and the inside of your thighs, pussy so swollen and shiny that you were convinced you had never been this worked up in your life without any sort of relief.
"Say it again, baby. Whose pussy is this?" Javi mewled, licking a long, flat stroke across your cunt.
"Y-yours, Javi." You moaned, bucking your hips into Javi's face, desperate for more.
"Louder, cariño. Let me hear who this pussy belongs to." The movement of his tongue repeated, this time added a few more broad strips, draping his hand across your stomach to hold you in place.
"Y-you! Oh fuck- It belongs to you, Javi! " You cried out, writhing under his touch, egging on the primal and possessive part of his brain.
"Do think you finally deserve to cum, hermosa? Poor pussy made such a fucking mess, I can feel her throbbing for me, baby." Javi taunted mockingly between licks of your cunt. "Beg for it, Osita. Beg for it like the filthy girl I know you are only for me."
There was no use in fighting it anymore, every shred of fight you had left in you had disappeared, leaving you a sobbing, whimpering mess, so dire to cum, you would have cried and plead for hours on end if that's what it would have taken for you to finally get what you wanted.
"P-please, Javi, please. Please, baby, I'll be good. Fuck- please make cum. Pleasepleasepleaseplease- Fuck!"
Your sobs were cut off as Javi dove between your legs, the slow and monotonous licks of your pussy now turning into him devouring you, sloppily eating you out like it was his last meal on earth, and he wasn't leaving a fucking crumb behind.
The way his mouth sucked and lapped at your clit had the coil in your spine that had been tightening over and over again for what felt like hours now reaching a near breaking point. Your wrists were straining against the handcuffs still clasped below your hands, writhing and thrashing under Javi's touch, wishing that you had something to grab onto to ground yourself.
"Fuck, Javi, Fuck- don't stop baby, please- ohmygod- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-ahhhhhh!"
Your pent up orgasm crashed through you like a tsunami, every inch of your body radiating with such intense pleasure that you could feel your legs shaking around Javi's head, sobbing out with relief while you gushed arousal into his mouth, going limp with ecstasy.
But to your surprise, the sensation between your legs continued, Javi still relentlessly drinking you up, his pace unfaltering as he worked you through your high, clearly determined to make you cum again.
Latching his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves, Javi sucked at your clit with a feverish intensity, fingertips gripping into your hips to keep you in place and hold you against the bed, keeping you right where he wanted you until he had you crumbling under his touch.
It wasn't long before the tingle at the base of your spine was building rapidly again, your pussy fluttering and throbbing, so sensitive from how long you had waited for release of your last orgasm that you could feel your second building just as fast as your first.
"I'm gonna- fuck- Javi, I'm gonna cum again, oh my- fuck- fuckfuckfuck!" You sobbed, limbs feeling like Jello as your next high hit you, eyes rolling to the back of your head, cumming so hard you were convinced you were seeing stars.
With your eyes scrunched shut, you hadn't seen Javi pulling away, shedding his shirt before grabbing your hips to flip you over, maneuvering you so your locked arms were outstretched in front of you and your chest pressed to the mattress, the firm grip returning to your hips to raise your ass in the air, wet and puffy pussy on display for him as he hovered at the edge of the bed behind you.
"Pussy's so fucking sweet, hermosa." Javi hummed, swiping two fingers through your folds and collecting your slick from your still trembling cunt, caging his body over yours as his other hand wrapped around your neck and jaw, pulling you up to flush your back against his chest, tacky with his sweat.
"Taste." He ordered, bringing the two shiny fingers to your lips, dipping them into your mouth while your tongue swirled around, tangy and sticky arousal filling your senses. "Think she's ready for me, baby? Or should I fuck you with my fingers until you're begging for my cock?"
"N-no, I want it, p-please, wanna cum around your cock so bad. Wanna feel you Javi, please." You whimpered, swallowing hard with Javi's palm still gently splayed around your throat.
"Okay," Javi paused, reaching down to grab the base of his shaft, coating his length with your arousal as he ran it up and down your slit until the blunt head of his tip was notching into your entrance, "but this greedy little cunt is gonna take everything I have to give her, understand?"
"Mhmmhmmm-" You nodded against his skin, whining as he sunk the rest of his length inside you, the sweet sting of his stretch setting you ablaze.
"Fuckkkk-" Javi muttered under his breath, pressing his body weight into you to force your chest back down to he bed and ass back up, running his hands over it, massaging the plump flesh before bringing a flat hand down to it, smacking it just hard enough to make you whimper.
"Dirty fucking girl. You loved getting fucked like this, don't you? Getting fucked like the pretty little slut you are just for me." Javi huffed through gritted teeth, giving your ass another smack as he dragged his cock out of your cunt before ramming it back into you.
"Mhmmmmmmhhhh- fuck- Just for- oh fuck- just for you, Javi."
He began to set a punishing pace, pounding into your g-spot, making sure that every thrust was flushed with your ass so that you took every inch of him inside you, practically punching the air out of your lungs with every stroke.
Javi felt so full inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was all consuming, the position he had you in opening you up to take as much as he could give. Your fingers tugged at the sheets, handcuffs rubbing against your wrists as you tried to brace yourself, so worked up and overwhelmed that you were nearly drooling onto the bed.
The noises coating the walls of your bedroom were unspeakably lewd- the wet squelching of your pussy, Javi's balls slapping against your ass, the wanton moans and grunts with every push and pull making your room sound borderline pornographic.
You could feel your cunt beginning to clench again, fluttering around Javi's cock as he rammed into you, your legs beginning to tremble as you could sense your third orgasm creeping through your body. With how sensitive you were, you knew the wiry hairs around the base of Javi's shaft rubbing your clit would be enough to push you over the edge again, wishing you could reach back to grab Javi's hip, digging your fingertips into his tanned and sweat-ridden skin while you came.
"Javiiiiiiii- Fuck, fuck, fuck- I'm so c-close- Don't stop, don't stop, don't, Fuck!"
With each orgasm that crashed through you, your body became more and more loose, feeling like you were melting and floating all at once, all consumed by your dizzying high while Javi's pace remained steady, fucking you through collapse.
"That's my girl. Cum all over me. Let me feel you, baby." Javi smirked, giving your ass another smack as you cried out his name, too wrecked to let any other words form in your brain besides his.
Still staying stuffed inside you, Javi was scooping his arms around your front, one splayed across your middle to keep you upright as your sat back on your knees, the other back around your neck and jaw, tilting your head to lean back on his shoulder while he sucked at your pulse point.
You were all but sobbing at this point, pathetic whimpers and moans rumbling from your chest with each deep thrust of Javi's cock only intensifying as his fingers reached down to circle your clit, so sensitive that just the presence of his hand pressing around your nerve bundle had you crying out for him.
Your face was flushed with heat, sweat beading down your temples with the warmth of Javi's chest pressed against your back, feeling your heartbeat pound so loud you could feel it in your ears.
"It's too much- fuckfuckfuck- it's too much, Javi." You whined, the pitch of your voice registering higher and higher with each word that came spilling from your mouth, starting to squirm in his grasp. Your movement only made him tighten his grip, forearm pressing into your stomach and fingers locking around your jaw as he whispered in your ear.
"Nuh uh. This is what you wanted, remember, baby?" Javi tutted, somehow feeling like he was fucking into you even deeper than before, "You're gonna take what I give you. You're gonna cum for me one more time. Cum for me one more time and then I'm gonna fill you so fucking full of me that I'm gonna leak out of you for days and make sure you remember exactly who this pussy belongs to."
The pads of his fingers pressed more firmly into your clit as they circled faster and faster, each snap of his hips crashing into your g-spot, the volume of your cries growing so loud, you had never been more thankful you didn't have any neighbors close by you were worried about hearing you.
"You're taking me so well, baby. C'mon, just one more, Hermosa. Be a good girl and give me one more. I know you can take it. Take it, take it, take it-" He groaned, chanting with each thrust with a low rumble in his throat, bearing his gritted teeth and flared nostrils as he fucked into you, knowing with the way your pussy was gripping him like a vice, you didn't need much more to get where he wanted you to go.
"Javi, Javi, Javi, Javijavijavijaviiiiii-ahhhhhh! Fuck!"
You were convinced that if Javi hadn't been holding you down, you would have floated away, cumming so hard that your vision went white, everything around you feeling like it was moving in slow motion as pleasure swept through every inch of your body, slumping into Javi, now finally chasing his own high.
"Did so good for me, baby. So fucking good." Javi praised, voice sweetening softly as he held you pressed to his chest, kissing and nipping at the damp skin on your shoulder. "Gonna fuck you so full of my cum. Bet you wish I could still knock you up, huh? Let everyone know who you belong to. Let them know that this perfect little pussy is all mine. I'm- oh fuck- I'm so fucking close. Feels so fucking good. Mierda- I love you so muc-ahhhhhhh-"
Javi's incoherent babbles were cut off by a final stutter of his hips, balls drawing up into his stomach as he spilled deep inside of you, warm ropes of his cum painting your velvety walls.
Still keeping himself stuffed inside you, you could feel the mix of your spend seeping out your spent hole and down your thighs, the dripping only exacerbated by the heavy heaving and panting of both of your chests, rising and falling in sync, so blissfully fucked out from your highs.
After a few seconds, Javi came to, pulling out of you with a hiss, reaching over the side of the bed to shuffle through his pants pockets, digging up the keys to the handcuffs and unlocking your wrists, gently kissing them where the metal had left red marks on your skin.
"Lay down, baby girl, lemme take care of you, okay?" Javi cooed, the flip of his demeanor instantly switching back to tender and soft, pressing a kiss into your messy hair as he shuffled to your ensuite, coming back with a warm washcloth to gently wipe up the mess between your legs.
"You've taken care of me plenty, Javier Peña. I don't think I'm gonna be able to walk for the next week." You giggled softy, still giving your heart rate a chance to come down to normal.
Javi tossed the washcloth into the hamper next to your bed, crawling next to you and pulling you close to lay your head on his chest, tracing dainty circles with his thumb across your skin. "Are you okay? It wasn't too much? Sorry if I got carried away or-"
"Javi! Baby, why are you apologizing?" You asked, looking up at Javi as you felt his shoulders shrug beneath you.
"I just- I don't ever wanna hurt you, Hermosa.
"If you're trying to get me to stroke your ego and tell you that you have a huge dick, then yes, you do." You teased, the two of you softly snorting while Javi rolled his eyes at you.
"Shut up, you know what I mean." Javi huffed, giving you a playful nudge.
"You take such good care of me, Jav. I know you would never mean to hurt me. Besides, I asked and you delivered. This was hot as fuck. This honestly may be a top 5 of all time." You smirked, nudging him right back.
"Yeah? God, you're so fucking sexy. We still got it after all these years, huh?" Javi smiled, pulling you closer to his chest, tickling you with kisses across your face.
"Yeah we do. Although maybe next time we get some more comfortable handcuffs. Those things do not feel good."
"Honey, they're meant to be used on actual criminals breaking the law. They're not supposed to be comfortable." Javi teased, laughing at your suggestion.
The two of you lay in silence for a moment, a peaceful and content quiet washing over you, basking in the warmth each other's bodies tangled together in a mess between your sheets.
"Do you ever miss it?"
"Miss what, Osita?"
"I don't know- having a more exciting job, getting to handcuff actual criminals, not just your wife. I just- I know that you always say how different and boring your job is now, and if you ever wanted to go back to doing something like what you used to then-" Before you could finish your thought, Javi was cutting you off with a passionate kiss, gently cradling your cheek in his palm, looking at you with those sweet brown eyes you loved so much.
"I don't ever miss it. My boring office job gave me a life where I have the most beautiful, amazing wife and daughters. There's nothing in the world that would ever make me even have a chance of giving that up. Besides..." Javi paused, sneaky smirk spread across his face.
"Besides what, Jav?"
"Using the handcuffs on you is way more fun."
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writersdrug · 3 months ago
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The rest of the 141’s thoughts when they see Bartender Ghost and Waitress reader together
Catastrophic. The both of you hadn't even tried to soft launch it - you were both just horrible at being subtle.
Of course, Price had expected it to be around the bend - he knew if Simon had waited any longer to share his feelings, the poor man might have burnt the pub down. So, he's relieved when he sees the lingering glances, the gentle touches on the small of your back when Simon speaks to you, the way you aren't afraid to lean into him to hear him above the din of the nighttime rush-
It was about time, Price thinks - and he's relieved. He's sick and tired of Simon getting distracted during his shift every time you come prancing around; sure, it might still happen, but at least he doesn't see the bartender staring daggers at everyone you talk too- no, actually- shit. He's still doing that, too. And he's still getting hard behind the bar. Ah, whatever. At least he's not the victim of Simon's jealousy anymore.
Gaz picks up on it on his second or third day at the pub (Price convinced him to start working with them, though he promised to share him with the Brewmaster when he really needed him). He wasn't particularly observing the two of you much, more occupied with doing his job and talking with Soap in the kitchen...
But he happened to witness a moment between you and Simon behind the bar. You were refilling a table's ginger ale, your expression blank. It was only four thirty, the pub only being open for thirty minutes, and there were no patrons at the bar as of yet. Gaz was restocking the server station when he heard a commotion behind the bar. He turned to find Simon crowding you into the corner, standing like a brick wall at your back.
"Simon- move!"
"Got somewhere t' be?"
"Yes, believe it or not. Are you gonna move?"
"Mm... tough."
Not a moment later, you pointed the nozzle at his chest and sprayed him with tonic water - he cursed and jumped back, and quickly made your escape from behind the bar.
It might not be a neon sign, but it was obvious. Simon isn't a man who lets people get this close to him, unless they mean something. Something more than just a coworker, for sure.
As for Soap... well, Johnny boy finds out about you two on Halloween night - via the unintentional hard launch.
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luveline · 6 months ago
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Hi Jade ! I loove your sunshine!readers, could I request one for Carmy ? Maybe someone calls her to get to the restaurant when hes feeling anxious to calm him down idk if thats good lol love ya !
ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.4k
Is it The Beef or The Bear? In your head, despite the wishes of everyone who works there (except for Ebra, who seems to have mixed opinions), you always call it The Beef. But the sign brags otherwise, and when you push open the doors, nothing inside is left to remind you of the old restaurant. It was a total gut. 
“Hi, gorgeous,” says a familiar, warm voice. 
You almost walk straight into her table, distracted looking for brown curls through the kitchen door’s little window. “Hey, Tina.” You grin at your second favourite chef. Your most favourite Sous. “You taking a break?” 
She offers you a round butter cookie from a sleeve of them. Her cup of coffee billows with steam. “Uh-huh.” 
“Hiding from a meltdown?” you ask, taking a cookie, fingers oily with butter, sugar grains falling to the floor. 
“It’s not like that,” she says. 
Well, what is it like? you think. 
Richie’s text wasn’t exactly descriptive. Need ur help with the little Bitch, he’d said. Then, when you didn’t answer, ASAP!!!!
You figured it must’ve been another rant. He’s prone to these… episodes of anger where he doesn’t realise he’s spinning out and hurting people who really care about him. You try to bring him out of it, but he’s a Berzatto. They’re all the same, sort of. Everything that’s wrong with them has been stamped into them a long, long time ago. 
He’s been better since Nat steel armed him into AA, but still. You tilt your head to one side, sugar cookie between your fingers, listening for the goings on in the kitchen. “Sydney’s here?” you ask. “I thought she was sick.” 
“Sydney gets sick, but she doesn’t take sick days,” Tina says with a loving shrug. 
You smile at her in brief goodbye for now and make your way to the kitchen, where you push in quietly. All their ‘Behind!’ and ‘Corner!’ and ‘Hands!’ makes you laugh, and you can’t take it seriously so you don’t, but you’re not trying to be dangerous in there either. 
“Hello?” you ask. 
Sydney and Richie look up from a cramped notebook at the table nearest to the door. There are employees you're unsure of prepping vegetables along the wall, but Carmy isn’t anywhere to be seen. 
“Fucking finally,” Richie says, before rubbing his face regretfully. “I’m sorry, it’s just– I texted you an hour ago, babe, you’re letting me down.” 
You laugh. “Sorry, babe,” you tease. “I have a job, just like you.” Your hands are cold where you tuck them under each armpit, crossing your arms. “Hi, Sydney. You feeling okay?” 
“No. He’s stressing me out.” 
“Which one?” 
“Both of them.” She looks like she might rub her face too. “I need him to be in here right now, he should be doing this, but he keeps walking away and– and not saying where he’s going.” 
“He is stressful,” you agree, though usually Carmy’s stress tends to bounce right off of you, “I’m gonna find him and strap him down for you.” 
Sydney just frowns. 
“I’ll see what’s up,” you say more seriously. “In the office?” 
“Out the back,” Richie says. “Smoking like his mother. He’s a fucking steam train lately.” 
It’s like they want to worry you. You give them grateful nods, sorry nods, and start to make your way out of the main kitchen, past the dishwashers and the dessert station to one of the back doors. Carmy isn’t your responsibility. You don’t have to apologise for him, you don’t have to mother him, he should commit to his responsibilities all on his own, but… it’s hard. You like apologising for him because his behaviour isn’t always on purpose, and he struggles with commitment for similar reasons. There’s this aching, stagnated grief in him that’s reawakening, there’s the stress of the restaurant, his business, the scars of the last ten years, and before that. You know it isn’t your job to come here and make him feel better, but isn’t it? When you love someone, it’s half the deal. 
Carmy shouldn’t yell at his friends, or employees. He shouldn’t chain smoke, and he shouldn’t be sitting on the low wall by the dumpsters shaking so hard with his head so low that you can see the first notch of his spine in his shirt. 
“Carmy?” you ask. 
His head ducks further down. You can hear him breathing, not too hard as to alarm you, and yet unrelaxed. 
You smile without thinking. You hate seeing him like this, but looking after him is a pleasure. “Hey, Carmen. Can I sit with you?” 
He forces his face up. “What are you doing here?” he asks. 
Trying to make sure he doesn’t tear another chunk out of Richie. “It’s my lunch break.” 
You perch on the wall beside him and snap your nearly forgotten cookie into two pieces, one side bigger than the other, which you offer him. 
Carmy takes it. Looks at it without expression, though that slowly turns to a dry ire you’ve felt directed your way a hundred times. “What the fuck is this?” 
“Cookie.” 
“I don’t want this.” 
“Could you just eat it?” You put your own half in your mouth in its entirety, all aligned to your teeth. It shatters into sweet, soft crumbs between your teeth. You talk with a hand over your mouth, “It’s not gonna kill you.” 
Carmy looks at it for a long time before he eats it. 
You watch him. He’s more tan than you’d think, that Italian gene kicking in, skin clinging to whatever sunshine it finds. He spends enough time inside that you’re surprised it can muster the energy. He looks better with it though, his curls look gold toned under the sun, and his clenched jaw doesn’t seem so harsh. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask eventually. Almost conversationally. 
“Nothing.” His hand shakes on his thigh. He turns his palm down to clasp his knee. 
“You sure?” 
“No.” 
“That one’s my favourite.” 
“What?” 
You poke toward a tattoo on his hand. It’s a simple flower, same style as most of his tattoos. “I like it ‘cos it’s just a flower.” 
“My least pretentious,” he guesses. 
“Something like that.” 
He tips his head back. 
“Richie texted me. He thinks I’m gonna… like, I’m gonna calm you down, I guess.” 
“You always do,” he says. 
You give him a long, smiley look. “So you’re in love with me?” you ask warmly, pushing up into a knee to wrap your arm behind him, hugging him before he can move away. “You’re totally fucked for me, Berzatto, that’s fucking crazy.” 
“Fuck off,” he laughs. 
You rub his arm, his skin hot in your hold. He touches your waist very, very lightly. “What am I supposed to do, anyway? I can’t cook. You and Syd are on your own.” 
“You already… already did enough.” He grabs your waist where you wobble on the brick wall, grit biting your knees, his hand comparatively soft. 
“Such a crush on me,” you tease in a whisper, his hair crushed under your cheek. 
You’re tempted to kiss his temple, but affection with Carmy is like oil and water sometimes. You give him a last protective squeeze and sit yourself down again. 
“Carm,” you say, “you know you can call me, right? Like, if you don’t feel okay.” 
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” 
“Or text me. If that’s easier. It’s hard to say hard things out loud.” 
He laughs again. “Sorry.” 
“I know, I don’t– I don’t seem like I know what you’re talking about, I get it, but I do understand. N’ even if I didn’t, I don’t mind listening. Or laughing at you.” 
“What’s that about?” 
“The laughing?” you ask. “You tell me.” 
His hand slides behind your back in half a hug. “Guess it’s funny.” 
“Can I change my mind about the tattoo?” 
“The flowers not your favourite?” 
“No. You know which one I like best?” 
His thumb rubs into your back. “The snail.” 
“Absolutely the snail. You’re so fucking silly sometimes, I’m supposed to take you seriously when you’re yelling and red in the face with a snail on your arm?” 
You can’t see his face with your cheek to his shoulder, won’t know that he’s smiling at you with a rare aura of peace. Can’t see the wanting, either. 
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lexsssu · 1 year ago
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Light (Sung Jinwoo)
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TAGS: Jinwoo/Wife!reader, a/b/o dynamics, yandere, possessive behavior, death threats, breeding, impregnation, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)
‘E-Rank Hunter’ Sung Jinwoo, a title that followed him wherever he went.
Despite being a Hunter, his power was barely above an ordinary human aside from his slightly more durable constitution and slightly increased healing factor. 
So it’s only natural that he’d always get hurt. Hell, he’d even nearly gotten killed several times already too!
It’s not that Jinwoo wanted to be a Hunter in the first place, because aside from the danger, others also made fun of him for his weakness. Even the pay was surprisingly not that great.
Unfortunately, someone in his mid-20s who lacked any viable skills that could land him a normal, stable job could only work for the Hunter’s Association as one of their Hunters thanks to their medical aid. Had it not been for that, he wouldn’t have been able to afford the millions of won in medical bills he owed to the hospital that took care of his mother. 
It’s not even just his mother that he had to provide for, but there was also his little sister and…
“Look Yeonjin, it’s Papa!”
Worn out from another hard days’ work, E-Rank Hunter Sung Jinwoo felt all the fatigue in his body seemingly melt away into nothingness as the sight and scent of his wife and child soothed his weary soul.
“Baba!” Yeonjin babbled excitedly as his father made a beeline straight towards you both.
“Welcome home, honey.” You press a kiss to the corner of his lips, smiling up at him with those beautiful eyes he always finds himself lost in.
This is why even if he didn’t want to, he would still participate in these Association supervised raids.
No sacrifice is too great when it comes to his loved ones and regardless of how incompetent he was as a Hunter, Jinwoo will do everything in his power to ensure that they are cared and provided for.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You’ve been with Sung Jinwoo ever since you were both just awkward teenagers in high school. When his mother succumbed to Eternal Slumber and left the two siblings to fend for themselves, instead of leaving you surprised Jinwoo and moved into their cozy little home and took it upon yourself to keep the house running.
While Jinwoo did his best to provide for the family’s needs, you would ensure that Jinah and the house was taken care of, this of course also included the man himself whenever he came home from a raid. You even managed to get a remote job that helped with the bills in spite of juggling that with your online college classes as well. 
You and Jinwoo had gone through so much together over the past decade so was it any surprise you’d end up married and with a child? 
Former friends and schoolmates might have tried to dissuade you time and time again to leave him, pitying you for spending your youth making ends meet and watching over your comatose mother-in-law, Jinah, and now your own baby.
But you don’t need their ‘advice’ when it all basically boiled down to having you leave your family because you ‘deserved better.’
They are already what’s best for you.
Why can’t they see that?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“ How are you and Sung Jinwoo? Sorry I couldn’t check up on you guys sooner. Life’s been pretty hectic on my end.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your baby shower before! I had an important appointment that I couldn’t bail out on back then. Why don’t we go out for coffee to catch up?”
“...way too long since we last got together! Our whole class is gonna have a reunion this weekend. Everyone will be stoked to see you and Sung Jinwoo there— ”
Beep.
You don’t have the chance to reply to the latest call you received from another ‘old friend’ when your husband pressed the ‘end’ button in one swift movement. Though his face looked impassive, his scent clearly revealed his agitation…not to mention the shadows that seemed to curl spread from the soles of his feet.
“First they tell you that I’m not good enough for you and that you should leave me, but now they’re all tripping over themselves just to get to me through you…” His lips stretched into a snarl, power rolling off of him in waves at their blatant shamelessness.
Jinwoo’s inner alpha snorted and growled, the mere thought of these impertinent swine daring to involve themselves with his mate even if to gain some sort of favor from him made him see red. 
How dare they?! He will rip and tear into their bodies and reap their souls to become his puppets if they so much as even approach you. Did they think he was bound by the rules of ordinary mortals? Foolish! 
The hunter’s alpha grinned diabolically, cackling from within the confines of his soul at thought of giving them their just desserts.  
“My big, strong alpha…Always willing to jump into the fray to provide for and protect us…How can I even think about choosing anyone else?” You crooned and purred at him, the soft sounds and your calming scent enveloping him and taming the shadows that once agitatedly tried to claw their way out of him to carry out his will. 
Burrowing into his arms, you embrace his waist and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as best as you could considering his height had also shot up recently. A few soothing kisses and kitten licks against the skin of his neck later, Jinwoo’s darkness ceased pouring out of him.
Because now he focused on wholeheartedly pouring every last drop of cum into your quivering pussy, thrusting weakly even as his fat knot plugged you up. Your lower belly bulged with the amount of cum he’d already fucked into you, but he still didn’t think it was enough.
At the rate he was going, he’s definitely gonna knock you up again.
Not that you were complaining. It was about time for Yeonjin to finally have a sibling to love.
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 8 months ago
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History Repeats Itself
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note: first jess one-shot!!! (and i'm actually proud of it???) also i say their baby is one but i don't know babies to well so if she's too advanced for a one year old, just cut me some slack
warnings: teen pregnancy, food/eating
word count: 4.7 k
♡ summary: Being a teen mom is hard but without any help it's even harder, after saving up enough she can finally move to Stars Hollow to be closer to her baby's father
♡ Jess Mariano x reader
request ✓
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The bus ride down was long, and it only got worse as 1-year-old Caroline woke up from her nap and decided to let everyone know of the inconvenience. Finally after the long months of working and saving up she had enough to move to Stars Hollow, unlike Jess who had a parent to send them and an uncle to stay with, she saved up and made it happen. She wanted Caroline to be around her father, and she wanted to be close to Jess.
And Y/n’s always loved the idea of a small town, a place where you felt safe, a place she would feel safe raising her child in, a place that wasn’t $2,500 a month for a closet. Here she could give her daughter a lot more, here she would have a support system in Jess and Luke. Unlike what her parents would give her.
By this point in the bus route it was only the mother and daughter and a couple strays, she saw the messy haired boy sitting on a park bench close to the bus stop, of course he had his nose in a book. She started packing up Caroline’s stuff, tucking her blanket and toys in the basket of the stroller.
When she got to the bus doors, Jess quickly made his way to help her lift the stroller down the steps, when the stroller was once again on the ground Jess squats down getting face to face with his little girl, “Hey, Care!” “Daddy!” He lifted her up by her armpits. When the little girl was out of her seat and in her dad’s arms, her mom stacked their bags on the seat.
“Hi! You’re so big! Really she is. She’s growing up so fast.” “Well she can walk way more stable now. No more scaring, mommy that you’ll fall if I look away for a second.” She says the last sentence in baby voice while she tickles the girl’s belly to make her giggle and their foreheads to rest on each other’s.  
“So you gonna show us around?!” “‘Around’?” They continued their walk around the gazebo area, walking towards Luke’s. 
“This is it, that's the record shop, that’s the bookstore, that's Luke’s, and that’s all you need to know.” “Well where’s the bank, I might need to rob it later.” “You’ll find a job. And if you don’t then work at Luke’s, he could do with the time off then maybe he’d get off everyone’s backs.” “He’s probably stressed with you always causing trouble.” “Me? Trouble? Nooo, I’m a peach.”
-
Jess had the baby today since Y/n was off to find a job, her first stop was the most promising. Luke let her know that a friend of his needed extra staff at their Inn for an event that was coming up, someone who could be an assistant of sorts. So after wearing her most capable looking top, and best fitting jeans. She kissed Caroline’s check and yelled goodbye to Luke and Jess as she began her walk.
When she walked inside she saw a man at the front desk on the phone. Waiting to ask for directions, she hung around the man’s desk, busying herself with some pamphlet. She couldn't help but listen to the man’s angry English in his french accent.
Suddenly he hung up the phone and got back to writing whatever he was writing, without looking up and with an annoyed tone said, “Yes?” “I was looking for Lorelei, I’m here for-” “The assistant job, yes.. Follow me.” He walked quickly to wherever it was they were going, mumbling along the way, “Of course, an assistant. Just what we need around here. Not like I don’t already do most of the work around here.”
He opened the door for them, it ended up being the kitchen they were now in. A tall woman holding a to-go coffee cup that said ‘Luke’s’ on it and a shorter woman in an apron fighting with a scruffy man about vegetables, which look to be parsnips. 
“The mini-you is here.” “One little comment, Micheal. I’m not saying you’re incapable. I just want more help with organising events so I focus on planning!” “Whatever.” Turning on his heels, Micheal walked out the doors making his way back to his desk. 
“So you’ve met Micheal! Sorry, we usually don’t let him around the new people but we're a little short-staffed. Let’s head to the dining room.”
They sat down at a table in the dining room, Lorelei asked all the important questions, and Y/n was perfect, now she was just asking the things she’ll tell Sookie later when the woman asks about the new hire.
Taking a sip of her sixth coffee this morning Lorelei asked, “So, are you new to town? I haven’t seen you around before.” The girl was stirring milk into her second coffee as she responded, “Yeah, I am. I just moved here with my um- my daughter, closer to her dad so…” 
Since it was of course the time most adults got horrified, thought she was a bad kid, and though she didn’t get that vibe from Lorelei, it was at least bound to shock her. “You’re daughter? How old are you? Wait- I know, it’s on your resume. I mean- I’m, deja vu y’know? Abba did say ‘the history books on the shelf are always repeating themselves’.” 
She must have seen the confused look on the young girl and explained, “I had my daughter when I was sixteen.. And came here to get a job, so just getting major deja vu. Well then, since I know what you’re going through, I won’t put you through the short mental torture of waiting for a call I was gonna do and just tell you you got the job.” “Oh, thank you! I really need this, I can’t thank you enough.” “Just change her name to Lorelei and we’ll call it even.” “deal.” Those two would get along great, much to Luke’s misfortune.
-
Y/n sat at the counter with Caroline in front of her sitting on the counter while she played with her mother’s hair. Jess was filling up cups of coffee and serving customers while he listened to Y/n’s words.
“So until you go back to school, you’ll have Caroline during the day here and when I’m done work I’ll take her.” “No, you’ll never have a break. After work you go to your house, relax then grab her after dinner.” 
Jess may have this ‘I only care about myself’ attitude but that never included Caroline and Y/n, he’d kill for either of them at any given moment. He always put them first. If thought Y/n needed a break, she was getting a break whether she wanted it or not. 
Just as the girl was going to thank him she was interrupted by another girl around their age coming to sit down at the counter, two over from her. 
“I have the book you lent me.” She said, unknowingly interrupting the conversation since Jess was facing the coffee machine to make a new batch when she sat down. “Oh, thanks.” He muttered, notably not turning to face her.
On the inside Jess felt guilty. Why did he feel guilty? He didn’t do anything, he and Y/n weren’t together, nevermind the fact that all he did was lend Rory a book. As friends. Because they’re friends. But nonetheless it almost felt like cheating. Jess and Y/n may not be together officially but that didn’t mean that they both didn’t love each other. And not just because they were the parents to a beautiful little girl. Jess had always wanted more, he’d let the girl know that more than a handful of times, and she let him know it wasn’t unrequited, yet something always came between them.
You’d think having a baby together would bring them closer, and in some ways it did; they trusted each other more. But they also fought more and being the dumb teenagers they were, they didn’t have the emotional ability to move past that and build the relationship they both wanted. And then when they felt they were ready to, Jess was sent to live with his uncle. Just another fork in the road. But now they were living in the same town and had a good system, and people to support them. It was the perfect time, everything was going right, they could feel all the feelings that never really left resurfacing.
“Okay, I have to get to work. You’ve got her?” “Yeah.” “Bye, baby, I love you. I’ll see you in a little bit, but you get to spend all day with daddy.” “Bye-bye, mommy!” 
She said bye to Jess after she walked around the counter and handed him Caroline, muttering a small ‘go see, daddy’ that Rory most definitely heard.
When the door finally chimed shut Rory shot up to follow Jess to the table he was now setting Caroline up at. She watched his gentle movements as he readjusts her shirt and places crayons and paper in front of her, which she got right into scriballing away. 
“She’s yours?” “Yeah.” “.. So that girl is your girlfri-" "I’ve got work to do.” 
-
The warm atmosphere of the dinner is a stark contrast to the cold winter air. Noticing Jess and Caroline are nowhere to be seen she assumes they were upstairs and makes her way up the stairs. Half-way up the flight of stairs she could hear her little girl’s loud giggles. She quietly opens the door to see Jess holding Caroline above his head, as if she was flying.
When she first got pregnant everyone told her Jess wouldn’t be a good dad, that she can’t rely on him for anything. God were they wrong. She doesn’t think it’s possible for her baby to have a better person as a dad. She sadly doesn’t get to watch the scene for much longer as she’s spotted by little Caroline.
“Mommy! I see daddy ‘morrow?” “Yes, you get to be with daddy all day tomorrow too.” “Yay!”
As the conversation between them goes on, Jess lets his little girl plant her feet back on the ground and starts collecting some things she’ll need during the night before she comes back here tomorrow, he then starts getting Caroline’s shoes on her feet. While Y/n sits on the couch next to their little girl.
“So who was that girl this morning?” “Who?” 
Jess always did this, it was a tell tale sign that he didn’t want to talk about it, but that’s never stopped Y/n before. “You know who.” Of course having to be difficult, Jess gives her a fake confused look, as if he’s never met another girl in his life. 
“The one returning your book.” “Oh, that girl.” “Yeah, that girl.” “She’s nobody.” “So you just lend books to ‘nobody’s now?” “Care, where’s Mr.Wiggle?” The girl lets out a gasp and reaches out for Jess to help her off the couch, when he does she runs into the closet where she previously hid while playing hide and seek a couple hours earlier. 
“What? Don’t want Care to hear about her new step-mom?” “Don’t call her that.” “What? Care? Only you can call her that?” “No, don’t call Rory Care’s ‘step-mom’.” “Rory! I get her name!” 
Jess was a quiet guy, but not this quiet, especially not with Y/n. He didn’t want to talk about Rory, maybe because it was weird talking about another girl with your baby momma. And yes it was weird for Y/n too, but for a completely different reason, she assumes. She liked Jess, and has since before she even knew about Caroline.
“C’mon, Jess, it’s me. I want you to be happy.” Sure Rory made him happy, but only because she was the only friend he had here, it wasn’t the way Y/n made him happy. Before he could deny for words again Caroline came back running into the room with her stuffie in her hands. Having already said her goodbyes, she opened the door and walked out.
“Caroline, wait hun! I think you should go for it Jess.”
She walked out the door, closing it behind her, leaving Jess to stare at where she disappeared. He decided to take her advice, just maybe not the way she meant it
-
Y/n helped Caroline pack more snow onto their snowman. Caroline wanted to do it after she heard Luke complaining about town events again, he stopped complaining when he saw how excited the girl was. They had Mr.Wiggles off the side learning against the tree, using him as a reference. 
“Mommy, no. Mr.Wiggles has more hair.” 
Caroline was getting very comfortable ordering her mother around, but in this instance Y/n let it slide, poking more sticks on the top of the snowman’s head to mimic Mr.Wiggle’s spiky hair. 
“That’s good!”
Lorelei and Rory were just one snowman down, both told Caroline they thought she would win and encouraged her before she even started. Since they were so close, they could hear the scene that had just played out. 
“Tough age, wait till you get to the terrible twos. ‘No’ is all you’ll hear.” Lorelei said, kindly as her and her own daughter walked past them. Y/n let out a laugh at the comment before she asks, “You guys done already?” “No, but after Michelangelo over there busted out the power buffer, and when Caroline busts out her cuteness, what chance do we have?” “I see your point.” “So off to Luke’s we go.” “We’ll see you there in a bit.”
-
Y/n was standing talking to one of the decorators when she saw Lorelei and Sookie step out of the kitchen, quickly finishing her directions she wrote down a note on her clipboard then made her way to meet them at the entrance of the dining room.
When Sookie sees her, she asks, “What’re we looking at today?” Sookie was really fun to work with, like Lorelei she was very chill as a boss, but Sookie was also so kind and always took it upon herself to make sure Y/n has eaten and that her and Caroline are taken care of. She could tell the woman was going to make an amazing mother.
“This is last on the list.” She replied, after she took a quick glance at her clipboard, then continued, “We’ve got trumpets, the madrigal singers-” “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m not playing squire of Bracebridge.” 
Sookie and Lorelei must have finally told Jackson to play the squire, they told her earlier in the week that they were playing to ask at the last moments so he had to. It was a flawless plan, especially when Jackson can’t say no to Sookie.
She saw that Lorelei and Sookie were just ignoring him, so she played along and continued down her list, “All the servers are lined up. This is just for the recorder players and harpists.” She stopped at the recorder players and let Lorelei talk to them, “Hi. Lay some on us, guys.” 
The two recorder players played the soft tube they were going to come accustomed to in the next few days. The three of them shared positive looks and when their playing came to an end, Sookie said, “Hey, you cats really know how to blow those things.” Lorelei continued Sookie’s comment by saying, “You’ve got the gig. Y/n here will call you later with the details. Thanks.” 
Recorder players started packing their things, Jackson started again on the fact that he wouldn’t play the squire, and the three women continued to ignore him.
“When do the quests arrive?” “Thursday at four on their own jet.” “After buying out the whole inn.”
“Must be nice to have money.” Y/n added, checking off and writing down more notes on her clipboard.
“You know what struck me today?” “-Was it the fact that I am not the squire?-""We’re crazy for doing this.” “We’re beyond crazy.” It did feel crazy, Lorelei told her they’d never done a function this big before and that’s the reason they hired more help. Like her, but also that they were planning to do a lot more big things like this, more weddings, and such. 
“We’re ‘Anne Heche speaking her secret language to god and looking for the spaceship in Fresno’ kinda crazy.” “Oquinis no-goodo noto.” Sookie said, causing Y/n add, “Il ecnatra dos guidan.”
Their nonsense was once again interrupted by Jackson, “And spring this on me at the last minute too. I mean, that’s just manipulative.” Suddenly a cook pops his head out of the kitchen, saying calmly, “Sookie- fire!”
Sookie rolled her eyes softly, this happened far too often, before saying, “I gotta get back in the kitchen. You guys handle the harps?” Both women nodded and replied in unison, “You got it.” 
“Alright. I’ll do it. I’ll play squire Bracebridge if that’s what you want.” Everyone knew he would cave eventually. Sookie patted his arm and said a quick, “Thanks, sweetie.” before walking back into the kitchen to hopefully deal with the fire. “As long as it’s not just because I fit the costume.” Jackson looked back at Lorelei and Y/n, Lorelei had a grin on her face while Y/n wore a tight-lipped smile. “It’s because I fit the costume, isn’t it?” He followed after Sookie.
Lorelei put her arm around Y/n and led them to the harpist, “Go ahead.” The harpist played the same tune as the two recorder players. But just as the woman started, Lorelei got a call. She patted Y/n’s arm, “I have to take this, you handle the harpist.”
The girl tried to stay calm, nodding her head and going back to listening to the music. Lorelei trusted her, yes it wasn’t a big job by any means, but still it was a step into a bigger role down the line.
-
The next day, Sookie and Y/n had all the waiters/performers in the dining room going over what their job was. And teaching them the old English words to use for things.
Sookie was just telling Rune that he couldn’t just talk like an old man whe Lorelei came in with a disappointed look on her face, and let them know the dinner was off.
The three women, as well as Rory and Caroline were now sitting at a table at Luke’s, Caroline was happily eating her pancakes, plain just as she liked and completely unaware of the collective disappointment of the group.
Lorelei has really welcomed Y/n into her life. She may not be Jess’s biggest fan, but she would always help another teen mom out. Especially since she sees so much of herself in Y/n. She’s grown to really love the girl in the short time they’ve known each other. And aftering hearing Y/n didn’t have her family in her life she was more than happy to help and maybe become that family for her one day. Just like Mia did for her.
“I’ve got 30 pounds of aged beef, trays and trays of trout, mountains of prune tarts. I diced pumpkins until my hands turned orange. I’ve got pumpkin hands!” Sookie showed the table her hands, it apparently caught Caroline’s attention since she grabbed Sookie’s right hand and held it in her left while she continued eating. Sookie lets her hand rest in the little girl’s while she freaks out more and asks Lorelei, “How can you stay so calm?” “There’s nothing we can do about it.” 
Rory was just as upset, mostly because she knew how hard her mother worked on the planning, “I can’t believe they got snowed in.” Y/n hasn’t told Jess, but she’s become pretty close to Rory, the girl sometimes comes to the Inn and helps around and Rory’s become kinda her only friend, that was until Rory invited her to the record store with Lane. After that day she had two friends. 
After knowing Rory more, she realised how much she and Jess have in common, and even though Rory has a boyfriend she can tell there’s an attraction to Jess she’s trying so hard to hide. 
Y/n zoned out for a moment, looking outside, she was upset that the first event she helped organise wouldn’t even happen. She was broken from her stare out the window from Caroline jumping in place while sitting on her mom’s lap, the cause of which was Luke coming to the table. 
“You girls want anything besides coffee?” He asked, adding on with a pat on the girl’s head, “Or pancakes?” “Hey, what about Luke?” “What about him?” “He eats, and Jess eats. Doesn’t Jess eat?” Sookie directs the question at Y/n, before the girl could say anything Luke cuts her off, “What’s she doing?” “I think she’s inviting you for dinner.”
Getting distracted while trying to convince Luke to come to dinner, the four decide to still put on the dinner for the town. Like an out of control slumber-party.
-
The dinner was going great, the secret amazing part of inviting the town was that Y/n and Caroline could actually meet everyone. Miss. Patty and Babette loved Y/n and Caroline (mostly Caroline), Caroline loved Kirk, and everyone loved that Caroline could do whatever she wanted and Talor wouldn’t say anything. And Y/n got to meet Paris after all the stories she’s heard.
Caroline and Y/n were in line for the horse drawn carriage rides, when Caroline saw her favourite person, Lane. “Laney! I ride with you!” Lane, before agreeing, made eye contact with Y/n to make sure it was okay. Y/n gave them the go ahead and helped Caroline get settled. After their carriage left she made her way to the next one. Telling the driver it’s just her.
It was nice to get a break from everything. It was quiet and peaceful. Well that was until Jess ran up and hopped on the carriage next to her. Without a word he put the blanket that was over the girl’s legs on his too. 
“I thought you and Care were going together.” “She’s one ahead, with Lane.” “Ahhh. Well it’s two to a sleigh no more, no less. So you were breaking the rules, you're welcome for saving you.” “You could have hurt yourself.” “Aw, you care about me.” “You are my baby's father.” 
She wished she just agreed with him. She didn’t just care for him because he was Caroline’s dad, and she doesn’t think she says it enough. But then again, maybe it would mess things up if she admitted that. But that decision was made for her.
“I’m touched.” “Jess. I don’t mean it like that. I care about you, Caroline or not.” 
Trying to change the topic to something she thought was more lighthearted, she says, “So, how are things with Rory?” “There are no things with Rory.” “C’mon, Jess, we can talk about this stuff-” “Why are you so insistent that I date Rory?” 
She wasn’t expecting that outburst. Not from Jess. He rarely ever yelled at her, and when he did it was always misplaced anger, never actually angry at her. This time it was her, it was what she said.
“I just want you to be happy-” “C’mon, Y/n. Be serious.” “I am. I want-” “If you want me to be happy so bad, why won’t you give me a chance?!” 
He turned his face to her, looking right into her eyes, she could see the hurt in his. Did she put it there?
“What’re you-” “Since we found out about Caroline, I’ve tried and tried to help you realise that I love you. And not how you mean ‘I love you’. I don’t love and care for you because we have a family and I have to. I love you, because I want to. I want to be with you. And I know it will be hard, but I’ll do the work.” 
If she had more social awareness at the pent she would have hated that the coachman heard all of that. But after what Jess said, the look in his eyes; that was so full of love. She felt like it was just them two in the world. No, that it was just their little family in the whole world. He and Caroline were all she would ever need.
“I love you too, Jess. I have for so long, long before Caroline, but I thought you wouldn’t want to be tied down to me, especially after I had Caroline, that any sign I thought you gave me was all in my head.” “It’s not.” 
He brought her in closer to him, an arm around her shoulders and when her arms wrapped around his waist he left a kiss on the crown of her head. The small kiss brought her eyes up to him, which led to their first real kiss in one year and nine months. 
His lips were softer than she remembered, but they still fit into hers as if they never left.
She broke away from their reuniting kiss to place her head in the crook of his neck, wanting nothing more than to be close to him.
“My mom didn’t want me to come home.” She took her head out of his neck to look at him fully. They were always that person for each other, the one you can tell your problem to and they knew when to help and when listening was enough. Right now, she knew listening was enough.
“I’m sorry, Jess.” “It’s fine. Just sucks.” “I know. Well, Care and I will always want you to come home.” After her words, he brought her closer than before. She was always just what he needed. 
Wanting to change the subject, Jess nodded his head to the snowman Y/n and Caroline built. “It’s good.” “What?” “Your snowman, well Caroline’s snowman I'm sure she’d want me to say.” “You know which one’s ours?” “Definitely shows her personality… It kinda looks like Mr.Wiggles.” “That’s what we were going for. But everyone thinks the one on the end is going to win.” “Really? It’s so overdone.” “I agree.” “You and Care’s should win.” “Agree again.”
-
The dinner was filled with Jess and Luke confused at what exactly was in the food, Jess and Y/n trying their best to keep Caroline sat which about half an hour in they gave up and just let her walk around the lobby, as well as saying hello and talking to everyone at the table. Having an interesting conversation with Mrs.Kim about grace, ‘helping’ Kirk by sitting on his rolling food cart, and even talking with Paris for a while. 
Overall it was a great night. Even better when Jess, Y/n, and Caroline got to their shared room, putting Caroline asleep together for the first time in a while. And falling to sleep in the same bed together, holding each other, listening to each other’s breaths, as well as Caroline’s. Everything was just how they both always secretly wanted. And now get to have openly and freely. 
In the morning Y/n got up early since she was technically working, and she still was when Luke, Jess, and Caroline left to open the diner for the day. It was around noon when Y/n finally left, walking to Luke’s to spend the day with her two favourite people. Which was when she saw Michelangelo’s snowman fallen to a large pile of snow on the ground.
She didn’t even have to think for a second to know that Jess did it. Sometimes he did the weirdest things to show his love.
The bell rang as she pushed open the door, she sat down next to Caroline, saying ‘good morning’ and getting one back before she made her way to the counter.
“I saw what you did.” “What’d I do?” “Caroline will be happy she won.” “Anything if my girl’s win.”
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mattybsgroupie · 7 months ago
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misbehave | matt sturniolo
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contents: cursing; established relationship; edging; handjob (m receiving); p in v; creampie; mommy kink; sub!matt
- ♡ -
notes: i feel this is a bit intense and might not be everyone’s cup of tea but here’s matthew calling you mamas mommy momma ma etc, enjoy!!! if you dont think matt has mommy kink fuck you cause he does. part 2 of “late night rides” coming out next week, we’re fucking matt in the van <3 love you guys
- ♡ -
matt was leaning against the countertop of the kitchen, laughing about something i did not hear with his friends. i was thirsty and he wouldn’t read my messages, so my only solution was to walk through the living room and grab some water for myself.
i tried my best to not interrupt the so called boys night and decided to ignore him, just like he did to my texts. as i was making my way to the fridge, i felt matt’s huge hand slapping my ass followed by a “grab me a drink as well mamas”.
i couldn’t believe his boldness.
i stopped for a bit and stared at him before opening the cold device and grabbing myself a bottle of water and a root beer for him. i got closer to matt to the point our noses were touching, and he looked at me with a cheeky grin growing on his face.
“you are fucked” i whispered, slamming the soda can next to him and giving him a peck, so his friends wouldn’t know what we were actually talking about. i left matt standing there, his blue eyes widening as he realized he was, indeed, fucked.
- ♡ -
around 1am, matt said goodbye to the last guy leaving the house, closing the door and resting his back on the wall. he smiled as i walked to his direction, opening his arms to a hug that i didn’t give, resting my hand on his shoulder instead.
“what was that?” i asked, innocent look on my face.
“what was what?” he played fool.
“uhm, slapping my ass in front of everybody?” i questioned, frowning my eyebrows.
“i have no idea what you’re talking about”
“oh yeah? you don’t remember calling me mamma either?” he gulped, finding the ceiling interesting to stare at. “say it again.” matt shook his head in disagreement. he was trying so hard to piss me off.
“baby, you really think you’re getting somewhere behaving like this?” i asked, my fingers tickling his neck.
“i was, actually. gonna get ready to bed” he teased, loving every second of it.
“sweetie” i cooed, caressing his hair. matt melted into my touch, snuggling against my hand. “you’re not. only good boys are allowed to sleep with their mommies” i pouted, pretending i was so upset at his behavior.
“so you better fix that attitude of yours and behave for mommy, or you're sleeping on the couch.” i smiled before leaving a peck on his nose and quickly making my way to his room.
- ♡ -
i woke up in the middle of the night to matt’s whimpers and small cries. i didn’t notice exactly when he came to bed, but as our bodies were glued together, i could tell it had been a while. matt was burying his face on my back, our legs tangled, humming something i didn’t understand. 
when i fully woke up, i realized why he was actually crying - i could feel his boner poking my thigh, matt’s hips moving in such a slow pace, torturing himself while humping my leg. i slightly turned myself to him, allowing my hands to rest above his sweaters.
“please mommy” matt whispered.
“hm? what is it baby?” i asked.
“wan’ you”
i fixed my position in bed, sitting by the headboard. matt did the same, following me with eager eyes. i couldn’t help but caressing his cheek, slowly traveling my hands down his naked chest and sealing our lips together. matt got desperate with my touch, breathing heavily and deepening the kiss. i palmed him through the cloth, receiving a whine in response “hurts, mama”.
i shushed him, instantly putting my hand inside of his pants and wrapping it around his cock. poor thing was leaking, pre-cum covering his whole shaft. this only made my job easier, pumping matt’s length at a quick pace while i placed love bits over his jaw. 
“c-close”, matt suddenly said. i stopped right away, his blue orbs widening in confusion.
“you really think you deserve to cum? after acting like a brat all night long?” 
matt loudly whined, frustrated with the lack of contact. my fingers made their way to his cock once again, but barely touching where he needed the most. “mommy f-fuck, please. i need you so bad”
i moved my thumb to his tip, circling it before teasing his slit. matt twitched in my hand, bucking his hips upwards to get some friction. i allowed him to get off on his own, holding his dick while he desperately pounded into my fist.
it didn’t take long for his thrusts to get sloppier “w-wanna cum”, he said whimpering. “wanna come for you”
i paused once again, loosening my grip. “not until you tell me why you did that earlier”. matt threw his head back, realizing that if actually wanted to come, he would have to answer me.
“fuck!” he cried before speaking again “i-i misbehaved!” matt finally let out, putting his left arm over his face, covering his shyness away. “because i wanted momma’s attention ah-!” he was cut off by me grabbing his cock one last time and quickly stroking him, not planning to stop this time.
“is that so, sweetie?” i whispered next to his ear, kissing throughout his neck.
“uhum, fuck” he moaned. “wanted mama t-to look at me”
“oh, my pretty boy. you just gotta ask next time. no need to put on a show to get mommy’s attention”
“b-but mommy was talking to- fuck, g-gonna cum” matt whined, his forehead coated in sweat. “can i? please?”
“are you gonna be a good boy for me?”
“yes” he nodded frantically, looking at me with puppy eyes. “matt good for momma”
“that’s right, matt’s so good for mommy. you can cum babe, make a mess on mamas hand hm?” with a few more pumps, he finally came. matt wouldn’t stop whimpering, finally being able to reach his orgasm after being edged for way too long. he covered my hand with his release, jointing his hips forward as he came from his high.
i gave him a kiss on the lips, moving the hair away from his face with my free hand and quickly cleaning us both with bed sheets. i knew matt would often get overwhelmed when in such headspace, so i made sure to hug him, letting him snuggle on my chest and rest for a bit.
as his breath calmed down, i kept running my fingers through his brown locks. “ma” matt muffled. “‘m sorry…”
“what for, baby?”
“misbehaving…”
“shh, it’s okay” i shushed him. edging him was already too much, but hearing his cries only made my cunt ache the whole time. “wanna make it up to mommy? think you handle another round?” matt nodded furiously, quickly getting up.
i could see he was half-hard, but i knew exactly how to get him going again. “oh” i complained. “my breasts are so sore”
“i can help with that!” he firmly said, hands already travelling to my tits. matt's fingers brushed lightly against my hardened nipples, as if he was waiting for permission to keep going. i nodded and got closer, making my way to his lap. sitting with both legs by his waist, i took my shirt off and soon my shorts were gone as well, completely exposed to him.
matt put his tongue out, licking my nub and making me gasp for the sudden contact. i placed both palms on his shoulders, getting near him as he squeezed my left boob and sucked the other. matt was so good and i always let him know that by moaning loudly and praising him for fucking me so well.
matt's hands moved to my ass, strongly groping it and opening my cheeks. his fingers tugged my skin, grip tightening as his tongue still worked on my breasts. it didn't take long to matt's fingers reach my entrance, teasing it slightly. he was fully hard again, cock lazily rubbing underneath me.
i positioned myself downwards, nearing my lower lips to his still wet tip, full of previous cum. pulling my hair aside, i kissed matt to cover his moans as i lowered myself on his shaft. matt was huge, but his sticky spurt made it easier for me to slide in, his veiny cock opening my walls as he burried himself inside of me.
“m-matt, gosh!” i whined once he was in, trying to adjust to his size.
“so tight mommy” matt breathed heavily, closing his eyes and thrusting his hips forward. i bounced on his dick, my tits shaking along with my body as i threw my head back. matt reached my spot, making me arch my back and moan loudly, clenching against his shaft.
“momma i’m-” he said, blue eyes watering.
“babe, be a good boy hold it in for mommy hm? you can do it” i cooed as i kept on riding him, my hands now placed on his chest as i tried to reach my orgasm.
“uhum, yes” matt nodded, grabbing me by my waist and pounding deeper into me.
as i got closer, i couldn’t shut my mouth. i kept on groaning, the knot on my lower belly getting tighter each thrust. “matt, im so close” i cried.
“wan’ inside ma” matt whispered “please, let me cum inside you mommy”
“fuck i-” my own words were cut off by matt filling me up with his release, bringing me to the edge. my whole body trembling, i collapsed over him as i reached my orgasm, completely out of breath.
as we both came from our highs, i heard matt giggling. “what?” i asked.
“nothing” he kept on smiling as i got up, challenging him with my eyes. “don’t make me do that all over again…”
“oh” he laughed, letting me snuggle against his chest. “i'm definitely calling you mammas in public again”.
- ♡ -
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effy-writes · 7 months ago
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Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus HC
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• You always tend to wear Fizz's clothes. You'll say your clothes are in the wash but both Ozzie and Fizz know that that's an excuse to wear his clothes. Sometimes you would steal his pj's to wear around the house and in bed. Fizz would look for them every night before finally realizing that you're wearing them. The first time he caught you wearing his pj's you were already in the bed sleeping beside of Ozzie. Ozzie would laugh to himself seeing Fizz scavange around the room looking for them until Ozzie finally pointed to you sleeping nice and cozy in Fizz's pj's.
• Ozzie LOVES washing your hair. Every time you tell him that you're gonna take a shower/bath he's always rushing in to wash your hair. He finds it so sensual to message your scalp using warm water, pouring on your favorite scent onto your hair and lather it. It's super relaxing to you, feeling his big hands work slowly around your head to get your hair clean. When it's time to wash the shampoo and conditioner out he'll put one hand over your eyes and the other hand on the shower handle to get the soap out of your hair.
• Because Fizz doesn't have any feeling on his arms and legs (obvi), you use your tail to hold his tail whenever you guys are walking (as well as holding his hand). You know he loves physical touch and wants to let everyone know that you're in a relationship with him, so holding his tail with yours is a win-win. He can feel your touch, at the same time hold your hand. He also loves using his face and tail to touch your body. Rubs his cheek on yours (face cheek, jesus), rubs his tail along your torso, arms, legs, genitals, everywhere because he wants to feel you.
• After having a long day out or getting sick you love to crawl on Ozzie's lap and sleep. Ozzie finds it cute to watch you climb onto his lap and get comfy like a cat (he also calls you kitty as a nickname). He loves to watch you sleep, not in a creepy way, but he knows that you're safe and comfortable whenever you're sleeping on or next to him, he makes him happy and so he can't help to watch you sleep.
• When it's time for bed you're always in the middle of the double king size bed. Fizz and Ozzie (especially Ozzie) feel like it's their job to protect you, so they want you in the middle. You don't mind it though. Sometimes Ozzie is the big spoon and you're holding Fizz (and vice versa) Other times both you and fizz are laying on top of Ozzie.
• Fizz is so good at massages because of his mechanical arms. He loves giving them to you without even asking because he knows it makes you happy (and he gets happy when you're happy). He'll give you a full body massage from your shoulders allll the way down to your feet. He'll ask if you want him to massage your ass muscles, and 99% of the time you'll say yes.
• For some reason you are always getting hurt. Whether it's falling down from a dance pole, scraping your knees from tripping on your shoes, Ozzie is always the one to bandage you up. He'll be worried about you, but then scold you on how to be more careful next time. He always says pole dancing is hard and that you have to be patient with it but you didn't listen. So he is always begging you to slow down on it so you won't get hurt again.
• Fizz loves kissing your cheek and your hands. He'll greet you with hand kisses and says goodbye with cheek kisses. Ozzie however, loves kissing the top of your head. He's much taller so the closest thing he can kiss quickly is the top of your head. Other than that, he's like Fizz, kissing your hand and sometimes your neck.
•Lastly, the two of them absolutely HATES to see you cry. Especially Ozzie, he will literally go haywire and might kill someone. So whenever you need some sort of comfort you go to Fizz. He'll hold you, rock you, and let you cry it out to him while he comforts you. He lets you know how much you're worthy and how much he and Ozzie loves you. If Ozzie catches you crying he will first beg you to tell him who hurt you, but then soon enough does the same thing what Fizz does, but he's still more on the "i'm gonna fuck somebody up"
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redstarwriting · 2 years ago
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the clash | ii. time bomb
hobie brown x goth!reader
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word count: 1.5k
genre: enemies to lovers
warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, y’all almost fight twice lmao
a/n: felt bad only posting the first chapter, so here’s the second one as well! i’ll get the third one out as soon as i can, but a bitch has work tomorrow and the next day. please enjoy chapter two everyone! and if you wanna be added to the taglist just let me know! :)
now reading: ii. time bomb
previous chapter: i. hey, ho! let’s go!
next chapter: iii. black planet
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Hobie swings his way to where he’s sure Gwen is, and in doing so he will probably also find Miles and Pavitr. He’s sure he looks like if someone said the wrong thing to him, he would punch them in the face, because honestly? He just might. And he doesn’t care. You pissed him off. With your stupid opinions. People like you are the reason anarchy can never succeed, you’re either all in or you’re all out. He hates the way you dismissed him, which is a shame because he really thought you were drop-dead gorgeous.
Speaking of drop, that thought makes him drop. Like, actually. He face plants.
He groans. Fucking hell, he’s never had to deal with this type of hatred before. Usually, it’s just cut and dry ‘I hate you cause xyz’, but fuck you are making it hard. While he hates you for what you said, he loves your style, and he respects you standing your ground and not giving into him with your beliefs, but at the same time, you piss him off. He glances around, “Meant to do that.” No one in particular hears him, but he quickly webs off again. He searches for bright blond hair, and sure enough, he sees Gwen. She’s chilling in the common room Hobie claimed as his own a while back. He claimed it by… redecorating. He just made it feel more like home, and since Miguel is such a lame ass, he didn’t appreciate all the colorful spray paint and broken furniture. But Hobie doesn’t really give a fuck. As he gets closer, he can see that Miles and Pavitr are there too, and… absolutely fucking not.
He lands directly next to you with an unamused look on his face. “And who invited you into my home away from home?” You look at him and roll your eyes. “This your place? Well, that explains why it looks like someone gave Mayday Parker a 50-pack of markers and told her to go to town in here–”
“Ha ha. Funny.”
“–and to answer your question, I invited myself,” you say smugly, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t try to make me like you, it’s not gonna work, love,” he growls, and everyone can tell by the way he said love that he certainly did not mean it as a term of endearment. “I wouldn’t dream of it, mate,” you say, imitating his accent in over-exaggerated way. “I don’t think they are actually calling him their mate,” Pavitr whispers to Miles, who gives him an expression practically dripping in ‘no shit.’ Hobie tears his gaze away from you and looks at Gwen. “We need to show this twat around,” he huffs, and Gwen raises her eyebrows. “We? Isn’t that your job,” she says, and Miles nods. “Yeah, I remember you said you made a deal with Miguel that–”
“I don’t give a fuck if it’s my ‘job,’ when have I ever followed the rules of a fuckin’ job?” he seethes, and you snicker. “Aw, how endearing, the punk rebel has a job. I’ll be sure to go to Miguel and tell him you’re doing amazing, so that you don’t get fired, in fact, you could get promoted!”
“That’s it,” Hobie growls and turns to you, grabbing the neck of his guitar and getting ready to use it. You smirk and slightly crouch, ready to jump away or towards him, based on his next move. “OKAY! Okay, we’ll help you just put the damn guitar down,” Miles says, jumping between the two of you. Hobie looks at him before looking at you with a deep frown. “I don’t need help. I just need to make sure other people are here, so I don’t murder this nitwit,” he says, tossing his guitar back so it hangs off his back again. “If anythin’, you’re helpin’ them.”
“I don’t need help either. Especially not yours. I’ll find my way around here myself,” you say, crossing your arms. He turns and offers you a smile. “Well now that you say you definitely don’t want my help, looks like I’m gonna be that friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and assist you.”
“My hero,” you say sarcastically, pushing past him and walking out of the room. He motions for the others to follow you first, and walks out last, slinking in the back. Gwen takes up the role he usually plays in showing everyone around. You nod and listen, occasionally asking a question and cracking a joke. He hates to admit it, but your jokes are actually very funny. It’s refreshing to hear deadpan, straightforward, dry comedy instead of the puns and silly jokes all the other Spider-People love to make. But he doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even crack a smile. Just watches you.
‘Like a creep,’ you think, catching him staring at you for what feels like the 50th time. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you were getting from him. Truthfully, he’s probably the most attractive person you’ve ever laid eyes on.
Such a tragedy he’s also the worst person you’ve ever had the displeasure to speak with.
“Your suit is so cool, by the way,” Miles says to you, and you give him a grin. “Thanks. Made it myself.”
“Yeah. I can tell,” you hear Hobie pipe up, and your head snaps towards him. “Because it’s so stylish, fashionable, and better than anything you could do yourself?”
“No. ‘Cause it looks like it was put together by a colorblind toddler. If you look close enough, the blacks don’t even match,” he says, smirking. Now this was a lie. All the black in your suit was a perfect shade of raven, he just knew it would piss you off. And it did. “Fuck you. At least my suit doesn’t look like a twelve-year-old who just discovered Hot Topic for the first time,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth there, mate.”
“You watch yours, mate.”
“Okay, both of you shhhhhhh!” Gwen says, and you both look at her. “Don’t tell me what to do–”
“Stop talking like me!”
“What?! You stop talking like me!”
“Oh my God, the romantic tension is through the roof right now!” Pavitr suddenly pipes up, and now the both of you are staring at him, dark expressions on your faces. “I’d rather be eaten alive by a single piranha so it would take days until I finally succumbed to the sweet release of death,” you hiss and Hobie nods. “Finally. Somethin’ we agree on.” He turns and looks at you, and you roll your eyes at him. “Way to de-escalate, buddy,” Miles whispers to Pavitr, and Pavitr sighs as Miles walks a little faster to catch up with everyone else. “But I was being serious…”
Gwen continues to show you around, and when she finally finishes, you all are back at ‘Hobie’s common room.’ You walk back inside and sit on the tattered and broken-down couch. The way the room is decorated is kind of cool, you must admit. You’re just not a fan of the mismatched colors everywhere. And it could use a couple more decorations. Like bat skeletons. Or just live bats. That would be adorable. “Thanks for showing me around,” you thank Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr. “Not you, though,” you say to Hobie and he snorts. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to thank me for anything.”
“Why do you two hate each other so much? Didn’t you literally just meet?” Miles asks, looking exhausted from the snarky remarks coming from both of you. “We did,” you confirm. “And we don’t get along cause they don’t have any strong belief system.”
“Yes, I do! I’m just realistic, and he can’t understand that,” you say and he rolls his eyes. “Realistic, eh? I already told you I led a rebellion.”
“And I told you it doesn’t matter because everyone is shit. How many villains have you fought since this rebellion you led?”
“None of your fuckin’ business.”
“So, you’ve fought at least one. What did that rebellion get you then, huh?”
“I recommend you shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you.”
“Please, do try. I need a new skeleton for my collection,” you growl and the two of you jump at each other. Luckily, Gwen and Miles web both of you and hold you back. “That’s enough of that,” Gwen says. “I have an idea,” Miles says, “why don’t we go visit your universe, (Y/n)? Maybe then Hobie can see why you’re so… negative.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere near that place,” Hobie nearly yells. “Good. I don’t want you there anyway.”
“On second thought, I think it might be very eye-opening to see the world you grew up in. Maybe I can team up with your sinister six and put you in your place,” he spits out at you, causing you to glare at him and flip him off again. “A field trip sounds fun, especially after all this just happened. Maybe it will help the two of you lighten up,” Pavitr says, and you both roll your eyes. “Fine. You can all come. But if you step one toe out of line, Hobie–”
“What? You’ll yell at me?”
“No. I’ll torture you to the point that you would beg me for death.”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
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『 tag list 』
@casmosmoon* @khaleesihavilliard​ @sparklyphantom​​ @weyrrii*
*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue
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oddthumbswetsleeves · 1 month ago
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Hiding - Oneshot
Inspired by this post by @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington <3
“Have you heard from B today?”
Elita-1 looked up from her datapad at her former-incompetent-subordinate turned leader. He looked stressed, or maybe nervous? It was hard to tell ever since he received the matrix.
“No. I haven’t seen him since the last time he messed up putting the supplies in storage.’ She looked back at the forms she was filling out. “He’s probably avoiding us cause he’s embarrassed.
“Embarrassed?” Optimus sounded confused. Elita realised she had neglected to tell the prime about B’s latest incident.
“He put a lot of the supplies he was sorting into the wrong places. I mean, seriously! I gave him possibly the easiest job I could have, and he still messed it up.” Optimus didn’t look like her answer had put him at ease. “He’ll be fine. If he’s embarrassed it might teach him to listen a little more.”
“Just-“ They met optics, “Tell me if you see him, or if you can get through to him. He won’t answer my comms.” He sighed. “I’m worried.”
He definitely looked nervous now.
“Yeah, sure.” Elita went back to reading. Optimus was silent for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but left quickly.
Once he was out of audial-range she tried B-127’s comm, certain Optimus was exaggerating. B never missed an opportunity to blabber.
“B”
Nothing
“B-127, respond.”
Still nothing
“B, this isn’t funny. Answer me.”
Silence
Elita never thought she would be able to use that word to describe the yellow bot. She started feeling slightly worried before it was replaced with something else.
How dare he hide away from his duties as an Autobot because he was embarrassed. He wasn’t the only one struggling with his new status. Being the Autobot commander and essentially second-in-command of Cybertron was exhausting. Every moment she wasn’t recharging or refuelling she was working. B was not going to get away with skirting his duties.
She was gonna find him.
Where the frag was he?
Elita had spent nearly half the orn asking around for the little mech. No one had seen him since she had. Not Jazz, not Ratchet, not even Prowl, who was usually aware of all Autobot activity. The other scouts had gibed her about B-127’s unrivalled skills in what they called “Extreme Hide and Seek”.
“If B’s hiding from you there’s no chance you’ll find him” one taunted. Primus, she hated being around the scouts, nosy bunch.
“Wait, why do you think he’s hiding from me?”
“Why else would you be looking for him? He’s told us about how busy you are.” Another one answered.
“Well, you’re not helping!” She stormed off before they could peeve her off more.
Elita was definitely getting hangry, so she decided to stop to get energon before anyone could risk mentioning it to her. Everyone had really been enjoying the abundance of it. The decreasing rations had been affecting the cogless bots hard. She remembered after being transferred to waste management seeing how some of the supervisors were stealing others rations off the delivery lines for themselves. That was one of the first things she fixed, especially since many of the bots on lower levels didn’t leave their stations during their breaks. Mostly the bots on the sub-
The sub-levels
“The best hiding spots are ones that other bots don’t know exist.” B-127 told her that once while he was training to be a scout. He was mostly talking about places that taller bots couldn’t get to, but almost no one knew about the 10 extra sub-levels.
“Scrap”
The elevator rattled more the lower it went. It was also getting noticeably hotter. The doors opened and after stepping out they surprisingly didn’t close behind her. Strange. She didn’t say anything at first, trying to hear any noise that wasn’t coming from the furnace.
She felt isolated.
Even though Elita knew she could contact anyone she wanted instantly, there was just something about the room emanated loneliness, but B had to be here.
She looked around. The room was small, nothing besides the furnace, the conveyor belt, and the trash chute.
Unless…
One of the walls seemed to have a handle, and when she moved it... Another room! She pushed it over.
What on Cybertron?
The walls were lined with multicolour string lights. The room had a table and chairs, but in the chairs were 3 piles of trash. They were kind of bot shaped. She guessed one of these were what “Steve” was, who Orion supposedly killed and D-16 insisted wasn’t real. Primus this guy was weird. Just before she turned away, she saw it. There was something golden-yellow barely poking up from behind the table. Elita had to stop herself from groaning. Some hiding expert he was.
“B” He didn’t move. Elita crossed her arms.
“B-127 I can see you.” He slowly ducked out of view. Elita’s face scrunched up, “Get out here right now or so help me, I will drag you back up to Iacon by your finials.”
The bot cautiously stood up, looking anywhere except her face. Neither one said anything for a few moments. Elita tapped her finger against her arm, making sure B could hear it. He still did not say anything. Elita started feeling nervous again, B didn’t even recharge this quietly. She wouldn’t show it though, he wasn’t getting any pity from her.
“Well?” she prompted.
“Why are you down here?” He asked quietly.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Elita leaned forward, but B still didn’t look up. “Why are you hiding? Do you think I’ll just forget your screw-up if I don’t see you for a few orns?”
“I’m not hiding. You know I’m here now, you can go back to work.” He fidgeted with his servos.
“What, so you can keep sulking here?”
“I’m not sulking.” His voice was low, but a bit rough.
Had he been crying?
“Then why are you down here?”
“You were really mad at me the last time I messed up. You said I was running out of chances.”
“So?” Her gaze steeled. His breath hitched.
Was he going to cry again?
“Well, that’s what supervisors used to say to me before I would get demoted” their optics met, “and you were a supervisor…”
“So, you came down here?” She gripped her arms a bit tighter.
“I’ve never had a boss who was my friend before.” He looked down at his servos, still keeping his voice low. “I just didn’t want to see your face when you decided to give up on me.” Fluid dripped from his optics.
“Give up?” Her voice was suddenly much softer. She cleared her throat. “Why would you think I’d give up on you? We’re friends, you said it yourself.”
“Megatron was Optimus’ friend, and he dropped him to the centre of Cybertron.”
Elita felt a pang in her spark. That might have been the scariest moment of her life, including everything that happened leading up to it. B had been the one to stop her from trying to grab Orion as he plummeted. In the frenzy she might have fallen after him. B had probably saved her life.
She was definitely failing to hide her pity now.
They were both silent for a while, the furnace rumbling softly behind her. Elita sighed and walked around the table. B shrunk under her gaze. This was the first time she had ever felt bad about making a subordinate scared of her. She put her servos on his shoulders, taking care to be gentle, and bent down slightly to be at optic level with the scout.
He was definitely crying.
Elita wrapped her arms around him tightly. He tentatively moved his servos up to her back. She felt him shake.
“Are you not mad at me?” B’s voice quivered. She sighed, squeezing tighter.
“I’m not sure I am anymore.” Letting go to hold his shoulders again. He sniffled and she moved her servos to cup his face. “Why haven’t you answered any comms? Optimus is practically beside himself.”
“I didn’t know you guys were calling me.”
“What?! Is your commlink broken?” She turned his helm to look at his audials. He pulled her servos away from his face. They had tears on them.
“No.” He looked towards the furnace. “I’m pretty sure no signals reach down here from the surface.
Elita’s face scrunched. She turned away, reaching a digit up to her commlink.
“Optimus, come in.”
No response. She swore quietly.
“We’re going back to Iacon before the boss starts pulling walls down to find you.” She held her servo out. B hesitated.
“He’s looking for me?”
“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” B tapped his pedes nervously.
“I thought you guys were kinda fed up of me.” Elita chose not to address that. She grabbed his servo and pulled him towards the elevator. It was still open.
“How come these doors didn’t close behind me?”
“Cause they don’t open from this side. It’s so if somebot comes down here to get something they won’t get stuck.”
“But that means…” Her spark sank in her chassis.
“Yeah, I can’t call the elevator.”
She stared at him. She felt the rage she frequently had for Sentinel and his lackeys build up.
“So you planned on staying down here forever?” B started wringing his servos again.
“I dunno”
“Well how would you have come back up if I hadn’t found you here?”
“Optimus, Megatron and I climbed up through the chute.” He pointed at it. “I probably could have done that again.”
“Would you have?”
B didn’t answer.
“You’re coming back to Iacon with me.” She put a servo on his shoulder. “I cleared my schedule when I went looking for you so we can do whatever you want, ok?” She led him into the lift. He shrugged. “There are a couple movies I’ve been too busy to watch. We can watch them in my quarters if you want.”
“Sure” He smiled for the first time since she found him.
“We do have to go see Prime first. I’m a bit worried he has actually turned headquarters upside down in my absence.” B giggled. Elita felt a weight lift off her spark. Once the elevator started moving, she pulled him into another hug, more forcefully this time.
“Never scare me like that again, or I will actually kill you.”
“Okay”
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sludge-saturday · 7 months ago
Text
catching feelings ☆ pencil and charcoal
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you've been riding with the van der linde gang for a few months now, pulling your weight and helping out when you can. you've earned the trust of nearly everyone there with your hard work and are starting to capture the interest of a certain someone...
pairing: arthur morgan x gn!artist!reader
summary: you show arthur your artwork by the fire. how will he react when he sees himself amongst your drawings?
tags: fluff, arthur has low self-esteem, high honor arthur
warnings: very brief mention of alcohol consumption
word count: 1,141
a/n: first entry in the "catching feelings" series! i can't tell if my writing style is too corny or not so feedback is encouraged. :)
☆ the trotting of your horses' hooves served as gentle ambience as you and arthur watched the van der linde camp come into view. an involuntary feeling of relief washed over you, knowing that you were safe here. the two of you were just arriving from a particularly difficult bounty hunt, but your combined skills proved to be efficient. "a job well done," as arthur had told you.
☆ you both approach the camp and hop off of your horses, hitching them to an available post. arthur gives boadicea a gentle, appreciative pat on the neck. "i'm gonna go tell dutch how much we made." he says, walking toward where the gang leader is standing. dutch is next to one of the posts holding up his tent and a fire had been made not too far away by some of the other gang members. karen, tilly, charles, javier, and lenny all sat around the flame, a couple with bottles in their hands.
☆ you wanted to stop at your tent for your sketchbook before heading over to sit with them. now would be a perfect time to keep practicing, you thought to yourself. after making the short trip to where your belongings were, you swiped the leather-bound book and the rest of your supplies off of your cot. as you walk towards the fire you glance at everyone sitting around it. no one had left yet, but another person had joined: arthur.
☆ scanning for a place to sit, you decide on an open spot next to the gunslinger. you had to admit, you've grown fond of arthur's presence since you first started traveling with the gang. it was something about his get-it-done attitude, his undying loyalty to those he cares about, and, of course, his rugged handsomeness. you kept your affection for him a secret, though, afraid of what might happen if anyone ever found out. you drew one of your knees up to your chest, propping your sketchbook up on your thigh in an attempt to dispel the thought.
☆ arthur's gaze couldn't help but wander to what you were doing beside him. as you opened your sketchbook, flipping through the pages to find where you last left off, arthur's eyes were able to steal a few glances at what was inside. from what he able to see, there were sketched pictures of people he could have sworn he recognized. was that... dutch? and sean? and mary beth? arthur gestured to the book in your hands and spoke in a hushed tone, as if afraid someone else would hear what he had to say. "you draw too?"
☆ you looked up at arthur with a smile already on your face. "it's been one of my passions since i was a child. i practically clung to my pencils when i fell on hard times." your eyes sparkled as you spoke to him, and you could have sworn you saw the same kind of shimmer in his eyes as he listened. "can i..." he started, "can i see 'em?" arthur had never met anyone else that shared his love of drawing and thought he never would, he had made peace with that. but this new discovery, this moment he was now sharing with you, it made him feel more alive and more connected to someone than he felt in a while.
☆ a flush threatened to creep onto your cheeks as you process arthur's request. you can't remember the last time someone asked to actually see what you were making. anxiety bubbled in your stomach as your mind raced through everything that could happen if you agreed. but, when you looked at arthur, his features were graced with a subtle glow, an expression of wonder and pure curiosity. how could you refuse?
☆ "of course." you gave him a sweet smile. "should i start from the beginning?" your hand prepares to move all of the pages on the left back to the right, but you look at arthur for approval anyway. "sure." he answered, nodding his head.
☆ and so you do. you show him everything, from your finished portraits of the gang members to sketches of your horse to quick scribbles of plants and animals you spot on your adventures. and arthur found it all so breathtaking. your art style, the way you chose to characterize your figures, your ability to make photo-realistic images from just pencil and charcoal, he never knew you had this in you.
☆ he watched as you flipped through the pages, admiring your work and pointing out ones he particularly liked. the person drawn on the last page had a dark cowboy hat on with rope tied around the base. he had a dark kerchief draped around his neck and a stubbly face. "recognize him?" you smooth your hand over the paper, remembering the unforgettable process that was drawing arthur for the first time. "this is one of my favorites." smiling at the page, you turn to look at his reaction.
☆ arthur was utterly dumbfounded. he couldn't believe what he was looking at. someone, especially someone like you, had deemed him worthy enough of being a muse for artwork. he thought he was so... ugly. he thought everyone found him that way. at a loss for words, the man felt tears prick his eyes. he didn't know why he was getting so emotional! he couldn't cry in front of anyone, so he cleared his throat and searched for what to say. "is that me?"
☆ you noticed that arthur's eyes looked glossier and that his expression shifted. you couldn't gauge how he was feeling from the look on his face, so you looked back down at the drawing. "it is," you said, fiddling with the corner of the book. "you are a joy to create." your smile was genuine, the apple of your cheeks shining in the firelight as you turned your head to face arthur again. his expression was still unreadable, his gaze tilted down towards his lap. after a few seconds of silence, arthur speaks softly. "ya really mean that?"
☆ arthur's eyes were still glassy, but softer this time around. he looked like the answer to his question would make or break him. he looked... vulnerable. even you knew that this was not a disposition you would typically, if ever, expect of him. you were careful with your response, knowing that you held the very livelihood of arthur morgan in your hands. "i do."
☆ those two simple words sent a small swarm of butterflies through his gut. for him, nothing would be able to compare to the way you just made him feel. for him, this moment would be occupying his mind for longer than he cared to admit. for him, this gesture was just another piece of the stunning mosaic created in your image. after this, there's no more room for doubt. he's smitten.
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