#(her mother's necklace the necklace she got from the first person she lost) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alexfromjersey · 1 year

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𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓞𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 & 𝓕𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓐𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮

jenna x g!poc

summary: jenna avoids talking to her family. jah plans a spontaneous outing

warnings: mature language, smut, tiny bit of violence

a/n: this is my all-time fav fanfic to write. I actually enjoy writing again, it’s been a long time since I’ve said that. also I can’t express enough how much I appreciate 230+ followers it’s small to some but this is huge to me thank you 🥺🫶🏾. enjoy the chapter - 5.5k words

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“Jenna…you’re pregnant?”

Those words coming out of her mother’s mouth made all the air in Jenna’s body disappear. Nervousness filled her and tears started to fill her eyes. At the sight, you instantly stood up from leaning against the car.

“What happened?” You mouthed in concern to her.

“Hello? Jenna?”

Jenna stepped away, “How did you find out?”

It was quiet on the other side for a moment, “So it’s true…you are pregnant.”

“Yeah, Mom I am. Listen I was going to call you and Dad and tell you guys but I had other things to handle first” Jenna explained.

“Handle? What things needed to be handled first? I get a call at one in the morning while on break at work from Hudson. My heart done fell out of my ass because I thought something bad happened to you-”

“Wait, wait Hudson called you and told you?” Jenna questioned.

“Yes. Told me that you got pregnant by some hoodlum. Who is this person anyway? You never mentioned you were seeing anyone” Natalie asked.

Jenna looked at you, you were glancing at her with concern and confusion. You saw that her face contorted into something that kinda scared you…and turned you on.

“Mom I have to go but I promise I will call you back and explain everything,” Jenna said.

Jenna didn’t wait for her mother to reply before she hung up the phone. Her walk back to you was full of annoyance and frustration.

“What happ-”

“I need to go somewhere” Jenna interrupted you and texted Big L to go home. As she passed you, she took the keys out of your hand.

“Uh…” That was all you were able to say as Jenna got into the driver's seat. Sensing the anger radiating from her, you just decided to follow her. You hopped in the car and Jenna pulled off immediately.

After a deathly silent drive to NoHo, you quickly arrive in front of a luxury loft apartment building. Jenna turned off the car and quickly hopped out. You were right on her heels.

She walked into the lobby where she was greeted by a doorman.

“Good evening Ms. Ortega” The doorman greeted.

But Jenna ignored him, her focus was on getting the little bastard on the top floor. You and her walk into the elevator which was thankfully empty.

“You gon’ talk or what? I’m lost on this entire thing right now” You questioned.

“My mother knows” Jenna revealed.

Your eyes widen at the revelation, “oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right. The person who told her lives in this building” Jenna said and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Mhmm” You hummed.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment almost to the floor Hudson lived on. You took the ring off your pinky finger and stuffed your necklace into your shirt. You also pulled off your glasses and held them in your hand.

Jenna looked at you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting ready just in case I gotta beat a bitch ass” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Soon, the two of you arrived on Hudson’s floor. You followed behind Jenna until she stopped at the last door on the floor. She started to bang on the door nonstop.

A few moments later, the door swung open to reveal a groggy Hudson. Before the door fully opened, Jenna pushed her way inside.

“You had no right! No fucking right to tell my mother my business” Jenna seethed.

Now Hudson was fully awake, “I did you a favor!”

You casually walked inside the apartment and close the door. You leaned against the counter watching the scene unfold.

“No! You did yourself a favor! I told you to stay out of this. I told you multiple times and you still keep doing it. You were my best friend Hudson and I trusted you! But now I’m done with you Hudson.” Jenna snapped.

Hudson’s face contorts into an angry one, “Done with me! After everything I did for you, you just going to drop me like that! You know what, maybe I should tell the world and your little thug girlfriend everything about you and I mean everything. Show everyone the real Jenna Ortega” Hudson threatened lowly.

If it was possible Hudson would be liquified by the way Jenna was glaring into his soul.

“Or maybe I should just show her all the videos and headlines. Especially the most recent one that’s not even a year old yet.” Hudson challenged the smaller brunette.

Hudson was suddenly cut off by a pain in his left cheek and his head whipped to the right. You instantly get up and pull Jenna away from Hudson.

“Okay, time to go,” You said and continued to pull her away.

Hudson glared at Jenna as he rubbed his cheek. You and Jenna leave the boy’s apartment and make your way back to the elevator. Tears were now falling freely down Jenna’s face. Once inside you push the emergency stop button. The elevator stops and you turn towards Jenna.

Immediately Jenna started to sob and you rushed in to pull her close to you. Your arm wrapped around her and she grabbed a fist full of your shirt. You felt her whole body racked with sobs. You kissed the top of her head and hugged her tighter.

🤰🏻🩵

TWO DAYS LATER

It's been two days since Jenna last spoke with her mother. Technically Natalie was calling and texting her daughter but she was too afraid to answer. Instead, the actress coped in her hotel room avoiding everyone, crying, and eating up all the room service food.

You just came back from shooting hoops with Davis and a few other friends. You took your shower and got dressed in some comfortable clothes. You haven't heard from the actress in a while and you were getting worried. So you grabbed your keys and set off to her hotel.

The journey didn't take long and you made your way up to the floor you knew she stayed on. You then knocked three knocks on the door. A few moments later, an exhausted looking Jenna opened the door.

"Damn girl you look terrible" You spoke without a second thought.

Jenna glared at you, "I will slam this door in your face."

"I'm sorry. My intrusive thoughts won that round. What you doing being cooped up in this stuffy ass room?"

"Sulking in my depression" Jenna replied and left from the door. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you. The hotel room was a lot different from the last of you were in. This was like presidential suite, it had a kitchen, multiple rooms, a big ass dining table, and 85inch TVs.

"That Scream money got you in severe luxury. I might have to dabble into the acting business" You joked.

Jenna, however, ignored you, she instead went back into her room and buried herself under her covers.

"Nah get yo ass up," You said and ripped the comforter off Jenna's body. Underneath, she was only dressed in an oversized white button up shirt and real short shorts.

“No” Jenna moaned and tried to grab the comforter but you moved it out of the way.

“Nah get your pregnant emotional ass up” You stated.

“Real talk, I know the news hitting your fam is not the way you wanted it but they know now. It’s been two days, you can’t keep avoiding them, especially your Moms.” You continued.

“You didn’t hear how she sounded Jah. I never heard my mother sound so disappointed in my life. Not even when pictures of me smoking cigarettes came out” Jenna said.

“I get it. You do your best trying to be this perfect child for your parents. When you disappoint them, you’re afraid that they’ll look at you differently” You commented.

“Yeah,” Jenna nodded.

“But they also gotta understand that you are human. Regardless of how perfect you try to be, you are going to make mistakes in your life. If they can’t accept that then, no offense, they got parenting all wrong” You added.

“You gonna be the fun parent while I be the strict one?” Jenna questioned.

"Why can't we both be fun parents with understandable boundaries" You stated and lay back to next to her.

Jenna sighed and the two of you just lay there in a comfortable silence staring at the ceiling before Jenna spoke again. "This room is suffocating. I need to go somewhere or do something"

You sat up on your forearms, "You are just luck Hollywood. I need you to get up and get dressed. I wanna take you somewhere to get your mind off things."

"I mean there are other ways to take my mind off things" Jenna smirked.

For a second you considered what she was implying but then you had to remember your talk yesterday.

"You are a very horny woman Jenna Ortega. Now get up and get a move on you smell like a reheated supreme pizza" You smirk at her annoyed face and leave her room.

“Asshole” Jenna grumbled.

🤰🏻🩵

It was an hour later, Jenna still had a little attitude with you, which you found amusing. She was finally ready to go. The two of you left your apartment and got in your car.

“Where are we going?” Jenna asked.

“You’ll see.” You smiled and started the journey to your destination. Jenna pouted and sat back in her seat. The car journey was mostly just filled with you bopping along to the music while Jenna stared at the scenery.

The disappointment in her mother’s voice still echoed throughout her head. She knew that she needed to talk to her family and explain everything but she wasn’t ready just yet.

Shortly after, you finally arrived at your destination, The Bronx Museum of the Arts. You always wanted to take someone here but you never found the right person until now.

“Welcome to the Bronx Museum of the Arts,” You smiled as you opened the door for her. The two of you walked into the building that was playing a jazzy instrumental softly.

Immediately, Jenna was amazed by the art she saw. From paintings to sculptures to graffiti art. You stood a little bit behind her as she looked over the art. You, too were interested in all the art, especially the graffiti.

Graffiti reminded you of your father. Before he left, he was a construction worker but had a talent for graffiti art. Often getting in trouble in his youth with his friends for tagging buildings, cars, and billboards. Your father tried to teach your older brother how to make graffiti art but he was never interested enough. But when you came along, he was ecstatic to finally share his talent with his one of his offspring.

“This is amazing” Jenna beamed after she finished reading the description of one of the statues.

“I’m glad you like it. I was kinda worried you wouldn’t like it” You said and scratched the back of your neck nervously.

Jenna smirked as she looked at you, “Nervous?”

You stopped scratching the back of your neck and shoved your hands in your jeans pockets.

“Nah I don’t get nervous,” You said and cleared your throat.

Jenna just nodded with a smile. As much as she wanted to hold your hand, she restrained herself and kept walking through the exhibit. You followed behind her and put a good enough distance between the two of you. Jenna took notice of it but didn't make a comment. The two of you just continued enjoying your time at the museum, learning more about the Bronx and Hip-Hop culture.

Two hours have passed and the museum was, unfortunately, closing. You and Jenna left the building, vowing to come back to finish.

Instead of leading her to the car, you make your way down the street.

It wasn’t long until you arrived at the second destination, Black Knight Lounge. It was recommended to you by one of your buddies you play hoop with. It was a low-key club that served banging food and played fire music. But what made you come here was the fact that it had an open mic night, which coincidentally was tonight.

“Party for 2,” You said to the hostess who nodded and grabbed two menus. The hostess led you to a booth to the right of the stage.

“Enjoy” The hostess smiled and placed the menus down before leaving.

“This seems familiar” Jenna joked.

You chuckled and thought back to the night your child was conceived, “Reminds me of the night we conceived our child. A night that I remember daily.”

Jenna hid her red face in the menu which you laughed at. She went back to looking over the menu while you stared at her, taking in her natural beauty. This was the most relaxed you had seen her in the past week. The girl was a busybody and often forgot that she was human and can get exhausted. Hopefully, since she’s pregnant now she’ll take her body's health into consideration more.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Black Knight Open Mic Night. For all my newcomers, open mic night is the chance to showcase your musical, poetic, or comedic talents in front of everyone. Do your best cause you never know who’s watching. Rules are: each person gets a limit of 3-4 minutes, you may perform an original or cover, and you must have the instrumental for your music or perform it yourself. The winner gets $500. Without further ado let’s get it started!” The DJ announced excitedly.

Everyone in the building clapped their hands while one person went up to the DJ booth and handed him a USB.

“Alright, we have our first performer for the night. Give it up Mr. ChiBX” The DJ yelled into the microphone.

“Twenty bucks, he chokes” You challenged the girl.

“He’s not going to choke. I believe in him” Jenna said optimistic.

You pulled out a $20 bill and smacked it on the table with a smirk. Jenna smiled and also pulled out a $20 bill and smacked it on top of yours. The two of you then turned towards the stage where the overweight middle-aged man was sweating bullets.

“I like to start off my set by telling a little joke. What do you call an angry carrot?” ChiBX asked.

No one in the room answered the man so the DJ took pity on him, “I don’t know man what do you call an angry carrot?”

“A steamed veggie” ChiBX wheezed.

You and Jenna covered your mouths as you laughed from secondhand embarrassment. Again, no one in the room laughed or chuckled. The DJ cringed before hitting a button that made a buzzing sound.

ChiBX frowned and without another word just left the stage.

“Poor guy” Jenna pouted.

You, on the other hand, grabbed the $40 from the table, “Aye I’m $40 richer.”

Jenna rolled her eyes in amusement while you did a quick little dance in your seat. The two of you continued playing the game after ordering your drinks and entrees, only adding money to the mix when one of you was super confident of winning.

While sipping your Sprite, you noticed Jenna kept glancing down at her phone.

“Call them” You blurt out.

Jenna looked up, “What?”

“Call your folks. Avoiding them more is only going to make things worse than they should be” You explained.

Jenna didn’t want to talk about it so she switched the subject, “When are you going to tell your mom?”

You sighed when she switched the subject but you didn’t want to push her to talk about anything she didn’t want to.

“She gets back from Jamaica tomorrow. Which brings me to asking you if you feel comfortable meeting her tomorrow? You can absolutely suggest another time too” You said.

Jenna contemplated meeting your mom right now, especially when she’s not on speaking terms with hers right now. But then she weighed the facts that, she’s going to be gone for a few months filming Beetlejuice in London. She didn’t want to wait until she was halfway from giving birth to tell your mother.

“Yeah I would love to meet her” Jenna smiled and nodded.

“Great” You smiled.

Moments later, your food has arrived. The two of you sat in silence and devoured your plates entirely. By the time you were both done, the place was packed now. More people got up to the mic and performed comedy pieces with only three performing rap songs.

You were now sitting beside Jenna with your arm around her and her leaning into your side. You guys wanted to stay for a little bit longer to watch whoever got on stage.

“Jahaziel?” Someone called your name from behind you.

The both of you looked to the side and saw an older gentleman dressed in a polo shirt and slacks. You recognized him as one of your father’s old friends.

“Mr. Greenhill, how you doing?” You greeted the man and shook his hand.

“I’m doing good young blood. I haven’t seen you since you were little. How’s Moms?” Mr. Greenhill gleamed.

“Yeah. She’s doing good. She comes back from Jamaica tomorrow” You answered.

“Word? I might stop by and visit her. I haven’t seen her since she and Emanuel moved to Highbridge” Mr. Greenhill said.

At the mention of your father’s name, your smile faltered a little. You hoped he didn’t ask you about how or where your father was.

“Excuse me, where are my manners. I’m Mr. Greenhill, I was a friend of her father's and I used to babysit this knucklehead” Mr. Greenhill introduced himself.

"This is Jenna...we're friends" You introduced her.

Friends. The title left a bitter taste in your mouth and an arrow in Jenna's heart.

"Nice to meet you Jenna" Mr. Greenhill smiled at her which she reciprocated. "Am I gonna see you on that stage?"

“Nah I don’t think so. I don’t have anything prepared” You declined.

“The lies you tell. You are always prepared when it comes to music. This one used to put on concerts for the whole block when she was little. Singing her heart out using songs no one expected her to sing. Like that time you sang Chain Reaction by Diana Ross” Mr. Greenhill reminisced.

You chuckled, “I remember. Dre and I were using buckets as drums.”

“Yes! Good times” Mr. Greenhill said.

You nodded in agreement.

"Alright, I don't want to interrupt your outing more than I already have. It was good seeing you young blood and again nice meeting you too Jenna." Mr. Greenhill said.

"Likewise" Jenna smiled. Mr. Greenhill left your table. You take a sip of your drink but you felt eyes burning into the side of your skull.

“What?” You questioned as you looked at Jenna.

“When were you going to tell me you made music?” Jenna raised an eyebrow.

"Oh see that's how I know you are a fake friend because I have music out," You said.

“How was I supposed to know that? You don’t even promote it” Jenna replied.

"Because I made it when I was 13. I put out four songs and three had music videos. We spent a hefty amount of money on them. Almost went homeless because of it" You shrugged and placed your drink down.

“What do you mean?” Jenna asked.

“I used to do little shows on the corner by my house with Davis and a few other friends. One day, a guy came up to me after I finished performing a song and basically sold me a dream. Told me that he was a record label agent and if I signed with him I’ll be this big child singer and I’ll be rich and yadayadayadaya. So I begged my Moms to let me sign with this man cause music is my dream, singing and dancing and performing is my love language. It took a while but my mom eventually let me sign with the man under the conditions that she will manage everything and I’ll still be in school. Everything was smooth, I made those four songs and did the music videos, my mom went from having two jobs to basically a part time job so she can manage my career. So I don’t know what made her look more deeply into these people but I’m glad she did because she found out that they were pocketing the money I made from those songs.” You explained.

Jenna gasped, “How much?”

“They pocketed almost 70k from us. We never noticed because they would show us falsified documents of where the money was going too. They would tell us all our money was going to these fake ass fees and shit. ” You said and sipped your soda.

“Wow. Do you want to make music again?” Jenna asked.

"Eh I don’t know maybe later in my career. I haven’t properly performed in almost ten years so I don’t know if I still got it in me" You shrugged.

"Doesn’t hurt to try again. This is a good opportunity to practice " Jenna said and motioned to the stage.

“Oh no thank you. I’m good" You stated.

“Aw come on Jah…like you said singing, dancing, and performing is your love language. Don’t give up on something you love. Don’t let those people prior take away your passion” Jenna said.

After a moment of contemplating, you let out a sigh, “Fine.”

You stood up from the booth and Jenna watched with excitement as you walked over to the DJ booth. You opened your phone to the notes section. You found a song you wrote a couple years ago. You skimmed through the lyrics until you felt like you had the lyrics down pack. You handed the DJ your phone with the beat on it.

“What you wanna be introduced as?” The DJ asked.

“Just Jah is fine” You answered and he nodded.

You walked up to the microphone on the small stage. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you which placed your nerves in. But when your eyes locked on brown ones, you felt every single nerve disappear. You took a deep breath in and gave a thumbs up to the DJ.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, give it up for our first singing performance of the night, Just Jah!” The DJ announced.

That’s not…whatever.

The beat for your song started playing.

“It’s crazy how your heart just has a mind of its own, yeah, yeah” You started singing.

Jenna’s jaw dropped at the sound of your raspy R&B-suited voice.

“Like when a smile, that makes a choice on its own”

Jenna was completely enchanted by everything about you. From learning that you can sing to your beauty to your mindset. Everything about you made her realize something.

She was falling in love with you. Hard. Which made her even more petrified.

“My mind tries to deny it but girl I can’t fight what I know. I know. I want you baby ooh” You take your voice up a few octaves and stun every single person in the room except for one.

Mr. Greenhill was by the entrance of the building with a proud smile on his face.

You finished the rest of the song and everyone was giving you a standing ovation. You thanked everyone and went back to the booth.

“I need you to sing just for me every day from now on,” Jenna said.

You laugh as you sat down, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Seriously, I need more music from you. I need it like yesterday” Jenna joked.

You continued to laugh at Jenna's eagerness for more music from you. It gave you the confidence boost you didn't know you needed to actually start making music again.

“Wow! What an amazing performance by Just Jah. Now I’m gonna take a quick 30-minute break and I’ll be right back with some more performances” The DJ said and switched on some music.

You recognized the song as Aaliyah's. All the couples in the room stood from their seats and went to the small dance floor. You grabbed Jenna's hand and pulled her up and towards the dance floor.

"May I have a dance with you darling?" You spoke in a British accent which made Jenna giggle.

"You shall" She replied.

You placed her arms around your neck and your hands on her waist. The two of you start swaying to the beat of the song.

"I know this was a spontaneous friend outing but did you enjoy yourself today?" You asked.

"Best friend outing I've ever been on" Jenna answered honestly.

“The best? You just boosted my ego to astronomical heights” You joked.

Jenna giggled before staring into your hazel eyes. The blue strobe lights in the room bounce off your skin beautifully.

“I want to kiss you so bad” You admitted to the shorter girl.

Before Jenna can stop herself and think, her answer spilled out her mouth instantly.

“Do it” Jenna muttered.

At the consent, you didn't hesitate to connect your lips with hers. The kiss was full of passion and love that it made the both of you slightly dizzy. You pull her closer and grip her waist as the kiss gets deeper. Jenna gripped the hair on the back of your neck. Before the kiss could escalate more in public, you pulled away but kept your forehead on hers.

“My place?” You suggested lowly.

“Absolutely” Jenna nodded quickly.

🤰🏻🩵

The both of you knew it was wrong, especially after the discussion you had two days ago. But you couldn't stop yourselves, you were both addicted to each other. An addiction that is going to generate consequences in the future.

By the time the two of you were back in your apartment, lips were interlocked and clothes were scattered everywhere. You barely made it up to the apartment with how much the two of you couldn't keep your hands to yourselves. But you made it safe and clothed until the door was shut.

Jenna sighed in pleasure as your lips enclosed her nipple. Your other hand makes itself useful by rolling the other bud in between your fingers. You gave attention to the other nipple before continuing your way down her body. Kissing every patch of her skin, worshipping her body.

But Jenna was impatient, she wanted you at her golden area to take care of the ache between her thighs. But you weren’t ready just yet.

"Jah...please" Jenna whined.

The sound of her calling your name was enough to get you even harder than before. You decided to stop teasing her and settled between her legs. You looked up and saw her staring down at you with lust-filled eyes waiting for you. You kept eye contact with her as you slowly licked from her hole up to her clit.

Instantly, she threw her head back against the pillows and dragged out a moan. Then, you went to work. You started your pleasurable assault on her clit, going from kitty licks to sucking on it repeatedly.

“Oh my…fuck” Jenna moaned and arched her back while gripping the sheets in her hands. You hook your hands under her thighs and pull her closer. You moaned at the sweet taste of her which sent vibrations throughout her body.

Her moans went up an octave each time you did it. She felt the knot in her stomach appear and she knew she was going to cum soon. You removed one of your hands from her thigh. You ran a finger up and down her slit, gathering wetness before pushing your middle finger inside her hole.

Her knuckles turned white from her grip on the sheets. You started slowly pumping in and out before reattaching your lips to her clit. You added a second finger, your ring finger to the mix.

Jenna’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she panted from the insertion.

You sat up and hovered over the girl with one free arm. You leaned down towards her lips just brushing yours against hers. She tried to lean up and connect your lips but you backed away. She let out a whine which quickly turned into a gasp as you abruptly sped up your fingers.

“Fuck!” She gasped.

Your fingers were increasing in pace, they also were starting to cramp but you pushed through it. The only sounds being heard were the slapping of your palm against her vagina and the moans spewing from Jenna’s mouth. You slowed your pace and curled your fingers and instantly hit the spongy spot inside her walls. Jenna let out a scream as she now gripped your forearm.

You felt her walls pulsating around your fingers. A few more curls and Jenna’s back arched to the sky as her walls trapped your fingers and you felt hot liquid around them. Her jaw fell open as choked moans came out from her intense orgasm. After a moment, Jenna started to relax and you pulled your fingers out.

“You taste delicious” You smirked as you licked her cum off your fingers. She looked at you with half-lidded eyes and a smirk.

After you finished cleaning her off your fingers, you leaned down and captured her lips. She moaned as she tasted herself on your tongue. You took this time to position yourself over her entrance. You broke the kiss for a moment to grab a condom from your dresser, rolling it on your hardened shaft, and lining yourself up before capturing her lips again.

Slowly, you pushed yourself inside her. Jenna broke the kiss as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

You loved seeing her like this, so vulnerable. It was only for your eyes and you couldn’t get enough of it. You bottom out in her as she clenched around you at the feeling of you being deep in her.

“Shit” You hissed as a deep groan escaped your mouth.

Jenna’s eyes snapped to you as she watched your face twist in pleasure. She wanted that godly sent sound to escape your lips again.

“Pick me up” Jenna mumbled.

You obeyed her request and sat up on her your knees with her in your arms. You hooked your arms around the back of her knees and gripped her cheeks with your hands.

Instead of starting slow this time, your hips snapped into a quick pace. Nails dug into your shoulder blades making moon crescent-shaped indents. Your lips attached themselves to her collarbone, bruising up the area with love marks.

"F-F-Fuck Jah" Jenna cried out. Her hips bucked wildly as you hit the right spot inside her. Sweat cling to your forehead as you concentrated on bringing her into a blissful state. But there was something in the back of your head telling you this was wrong. But you ignored it and focused on the trembling woman in your arms.

I can definitely handle you…

A devilish smirk grew on your face. You were going to have fun with her tonight. You stopped your thrusts, much to her dismay. You laid her down back on the bed, her legs now resting on your shoulders. You interlock your fingers with hers and start going to town.

Jenna looked down at the sight of your stick, glistening from her arousal, disappearing inside of her. The knot in her stomach tightened and her walls fluttered around you, signaling how close she was. So naturally, your pace sped up to an inhuman one. Your headboard knocks against the wall.

“Yes, don’t stop!” Jenna sobbed.

A couple more thrusts and immediately Jenna saw stars. The knot in her stomach snapped and she arched into you once more, no sound escaping her lips as her second orgasm ripped through her harsher than the first one. She expected you to stop and let her catch her breath but you did the opposite. You kept thrusting into the girl, fucking her through her orgasm.

“W-W-Wait baby” She hissed as her eyes widen from you continuing. She removed her right hand from yours and pushed it against your pelvis, trying to get you to stop and let her catch her breath.

"Nah" You smirked.

Her legs fell from your shoulders, effectively giving you more access to go deeper. At the feeling of you being deeper, Jenna tried to scoot away from you.

"Nah, where you going?" You said. You flipped her onto her stomach. You pulled her ass towards you and you inserted yourself back into her before she could properly take a breath. A long dragged-out moan escaped her lips. Your hands gripped her hips, forcing the girl to move back onto you.

Jenna’s eyes slammed shut and she buried her face into the pillow. But a gasp was muffled by the pillow escaped her as you delivered a sharp hard thrust.

“Fuck!” Jenna screamed. You smirked as you delivered more sharp thrusts. Choked moans spilled from her mouth until she felt herself tremble. She was sent into another orgasm, her third one for the night.

“I can’t. I-I-I can’t baby” She sobbed as she tried running from you once more.

Your hand went around her throat and you pulled her up against you. You kissed her jawline as your other hand explored her body.

“Give me one more baby girl” Your voice dripped with lust. It was deeper and raspier which made Jenna swoon. You littered her neck with hickeys as she reached behind you and slid her fingers through your hair.

You started slow this last time, setting a smooth pace for both of you. Her heavenly pants went straight into your ear as she rested her head on your shoulder.

“You feel so good” You stated with a groan.

Her fourth and final orgasm was quickly approaching. You were almost there too, you wanted to cum together for the final one. Jenna knew you were close to exploding by the way your hands gripped her hips tighter. She purposely clenched around you which made you hiss and bury your face into her neck.

“Baby…look at…me” Jenna moaned.

You didn't want to look at her because you knew if you do, you'll be a goner. But Jenna wasn't having that, she tugged your hair and forced you to look at her. One look into her eyes had you gone, your hips stuttered as you felt yourself empty into the condom.

“Oh fuck” You groaned and gripped her hips tighter. You knew that was going to leave a bruise.

At the sight of you reaching your climax, Jenna cried out, incoherent words escaping her as she climaxed for the final time tonight. You held her close to you as she trembled in your arms. The two of you shared lazy kisses as you calmed down from tonight's activities. Both of you have tired smiles on your faces.

You pulled out her and she whined from the loss and overstimulation. You pulled the used condom off you, tied it up, and threw it into the trashcan beside your bed. The both of you laid back down on the bed. You lay on your back with your arm behind your head as Jenna cuddled up to your side. It wasn't long until Jenna's breath evened out, signaling that she was asleep and you were following her.

a/n: I also change my mind constantly on everything so the fans/public still don't know...yet cause I have a plan for that *insert evil smile*

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu @zaclewiss @yescruzzzzzzz @silentfor @gemz5 @alwaysdangerouschild @onceblinkarmyandmore @melonfruit442 @zataracloud @nepobaby08 @jennasslut @rimaybank @jaewu @j3nc0re

#jenna ortega #g!p reader #jenna ortega x reader #nycxhollywood #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x oc #Spotify

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stephstars08 · 27 days

Text

Changes

Neteyam x Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Some Adult Language, Angst, Fluff, Anxiety, Depressed Reader, Reader Taking Her Anger Out on Neteyam, Mention of Weapons, And Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry If I Forgot Any!)

Summary: Y/N and Neteyam got together just before Quaritch showed up and made a surprise attack against the Sully family and Y/N which forces them to leave their home and for Y/N to leave her family. After this big move Neteyam notices a big change in Y/N’s personality and not in a positive way.

Song Inspiration: Changes by XXXTENTACTION

Word Count: 1,672

Author’s Note: Sorry if the ending of this story is a little messy. I didn’t finish writing this story till after ten o’ clock at night on Saturday.

Y/N has been very close to the Sully family ever since she was a little Na’vi girl. She was actually born just a couple of days after Neteyam, who is the eldest of the Sully kids. Growing up Y/N has had a huge crush on Neteyam who also had a huge crush on Y/N as well. However, both Na’Vi’s were too scared and nervous to tell each other about their secret crushes on one another.

Well, that was until one day it just happened in the heat of the moment. Ever since the sky people returned to Pandora Jake knew that Neteyam should teach Y/N how to protect herself just in case she has a run in with the sky people so that is what Neteyam did. One day he decided to take her into the forest and teach her how to use a bow and arrow. After a couple of lessons Y/N was getting the hang of it but she still needed Neteyam to show her were to put her hands on the bow.

It all happened so fast but when Y/N went to grab another arrow she lost her footing and almost fell down but before she could hit the grass Neteyam caught her. When Neteyam realized how close his face was to Y/N’s he knew he had a chance, so he connected his lips with hers for a short and quick kiss. The kiss took Y/N by surprise so after Neteyam pulled away she looked at him with a surprised look in her yellow eyes. At first Neteyam was scared that he made a mistake but after he helped her stand back up straight, she was the one that surprised him back.

She dropped the cross bow and put both of her hands on Neteyam’s cheeks. Since Neteyam was a couple inches taller than her she pulled him down and reconnected their lips for a much longer kiss. That kiss felt much different than the short kiss. The kiss felt needy but was also soft and gentle.

They released from the kiss when they needed a breath of air. After they caught their breath, they confessed their feelings for one another. Ever since that day Y/N and Neteyam became more than just best friends.

Things between the teenage Na’vi’s were perfect until a life changing event happened to not just the Sully family but Y/N as well. The Sully’s ran into a familiar foe and when they made a surprise attack on the family, Y/N was with the family as well. The Sully family decided to leave the Omatikaya clan in order to keep their own clan safe. Since Quaritch and his squad knows Y/N and know that she what she looks like and is close to the Sully’s she’s now got a target on her back as well. Jake and her father knew it was for the best for Y/N to leave the clan with the Sully’s in order to not just keep her safe but her parents and younger siblings safe as well.

Y/N knew leaving her family behind was the safe and best choice, but it was not easy for her. When the Sully’s and Y/N settled in with the Metkayina clan the feeling of leaving her family behind never went away for Y/N and Neteyam has noticed a change in her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was sitting in the Sully’s Marui all by herself. A lot of time has passed since Y/N and the Sully’s joined the Metkayina clan. Everyone seemed to adjust to the changes well but Y/N.

When Neteyam walked into the Marui he saw Y/N sitting on the floor staring down at the necklace her mother gave her to her right before she left. As she held onto the necklace Neteyam knew Y/N was doing everything she could do to not let the tears slip from her golden colored eyes.

“Y/N.” Neteyam said in a soft voice. “Why are you sitting in her all by yourself?” Neteyam asked her. “Because I want to.” Y/N answered him as she continued to stare down at the necklace in her hands. “I thought you were going with Kiri to have Tsireya show you how to ride and bond with an Ilu since you’re the only one that hasn’t learned yet.” Neteyam told her. “I don’t want to learn.” Y/N told him as the grip on the necklace tightened.

Neteyam let out a sigh as he walked closer to her and squatted down in front of her. “Y/N, I know this is a big change for you, but you need to learn how to blend in with the Metkayina’s.” Neteyam told her with a stern look in his eyes. “You act like it’s so damn easy!” Y/N said in a snappy tone finally looking up at him. Neteyam saw a mixture of hurt and frustration in her eyes and it was making his heart break for her. “I know it’s hard, but you have to at least try. You haven’t even tried.” Neteyam told her with sincere in his voice trying to comfort her. Y/N let out a harsh laugh as she stood up from the floor which confused him.

“It’s ten times easier for you because you’re still with your family. You’re in the same stupid ass situation with your family. Me? I don’t fucking know how my family is doing! Hell, they don’t even know if I’m okay!” Y/N told him as hot tears started to fall down her face.

As Neteyam looked up at her he was shocked by her behavior. He’s never seen Y/N act like this before. He has never even heard Y/N curse before. Neteyam stood up. “Shit! Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feeling this way.” Neteyam told her with nothing but sadness in his voice. Y/N just stayed silent as she looks away from Neteyam’s sad and worry gaze.

“Is there anything I can do?” Neteyam asked her in a soft tone. “Yes.” Y/N started. “Just leave me alone.” Y/N told him and walked past him, out of the Mauri.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neteyam decided to let Y/N cool off from their first ever fight. He decided to just let her be with herself for a couple of days. It also gave him some time to help find a way to ease Y/N in the Metkayina ways to help her get a little comfortable.

It was nighttime when he saw Y/N sitting by herself on one of the many piers. She had her feet in the water. She was staring down at the beautiful light blue water. Neteyam walked over to her. “Hi.” Neteyam said getting her attention. “Hi.” Y/N said looking up at him.

“I’ve been thinking about what said the other day and I have an idea that could help ease you in.” Neteyam told her. “What is it?” Y/N asked him in a curious tone. “Do you want to take a ride with me on my Ilu?” Neteyam asked her. “Explore the village a little bit.” Neteyam added as he put one of his hands out towards her.

Y/N’s lips turned up into a small smile. She put her hand into his’s and let him help her up onto her feet. The small smile on her face was Neteyam’s answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neteyam took Y/N to the pier where his Ilu was in the water waiting for them. He helped Y/N get onto the Ilu first and then once she was comfortable, he got on right behind her. He could tell that Y/N was scared since her hands were shaking so he held onto her hands and whispered into her ear that it’s okay. When the Ilu started to swim away from the pier Y/N could feel her heart rate speed up. But as they went further out and around the village Y/N started to get comfortable.

Once Neteyam noticed that Y/N was comfortable he decided to jump into the water and let her ride the Ilu with him just swimming next to her. Y/N was having so much fun just swimming around on the Ilu with Neteyam swimming right along side of them.

Y/N had the biggest smile on her face. Neteyam hasn’t seen Y/N smile and laugh this much since they left their homes. Hell, he hasn’t even seen her smile big since their run in with Quaritch.

After a while of riding and swimming they decided to head back to pier. Before going back to the Marui they decided to go lay on the beach together. They laid down next to each other and watched the shiny stars in the night sky. Neteyam had one of his arms wrapped around her while Y/N rested her head onto his chest.

“I’m sorry, Neteyam.” Y/N said breaking the comfortable silence. “What? Why are you sorry?” Neteyam asked her in confusion looking at her. “I’m sorry for pouring all of my anger out on you.” Y/N told him looking back at him. “None of this is your fault and you were just trying to help me.” Y/N told him. “It’s okay, Y/N.” Neteyam said in a reassuring tone.

“This is a big change for all of us but mostly you because you didn’t just leave your home, you left your parents and little brothers.” Neteyam told her. “I know but you still didn’t deserve to hear me say those words.” Y/N told him in a soft voice. “I rather you take it out on me than holding it all in.” Neteyam told her putting his other hand onto her cheeks. He leaned in and connected his lips with hers for a passionate kiss.

As they kissed Neteyam stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. When they released from the kiss, they rested their foreheads against one another’s. “Neteyam, I love you.” Y/N said confessing her love for him for the first time. Neteyam’s lips turned up into a big smile. “I love you, too, Y/N.” Neteyam told her being his first time confessing his love her as well.

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rainydayandmondays · 10 months

Text

Thanksgiving Potluck

Summary: It’s time for the annual Thanksgiving potluck at work. Andy wants to make sure that he brings something special for you. You worked so hard, you deserve it.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, slight non-con

Author's Note: This came about after seeing a challenge to write a spicy Thanksgiving story. With the blessing of @georgiapeach30513 to use Andy Barber, this is what I got.

You had been planning the department’s Thanksgiving potluck for weeks. Running around, trying to get everyone to sign up to bring in something, even if it was just silverware and napkins. Andy never participated in these get-togethers. They were some weird kind of team building bullshit that he had never really subscribed to. Why play nice that one day, while all the remaining days everyone was trying to one up each other. Comparing their win-loss ratios like they were some goddamn a-list athletes. The fucking Red Sox, they were not.

But you had started earlier this year, right around Valentine’s day. He remembered your first day, you wore your pink button down shirt the first two buttons undone and your simple gold necklace nestled in the crux of your shirt. Your pencil skirt was knee-length but seemed to hug from your waist to your hips. He imagined his hands could skim down the sides of it as if it was a second skin. Then your sensible flats, all that up top and did you finish with three-inch heels? No, just sensible flats. The red nail polish on your fingers with a small heart decals on each ring finger, let him know that you enjoyed celebrating holidays.

He watched you as you grew into the department, quickly planting roots and befriending each person you met. You were easy to get along with, never really asked for much, but always willing to give. He had spent most of October working with you. You were assisting on the research for his latest case, spending nights in the conference room with law books spread out in front of the two of you and boxes of half-eaten Chinese in each of your laps. You had asked about his story as you took a break from the mind-numbing reading of passage after passage. He had given you the cliff-notes version. The “everything is pretty on the outside” story. Loving wife at home and kid excelling in school. It was easier that way. Even if he could tell you didn’t totally buy it, you let him lie.

You on the other hand, were open. Told him everything. You were a paralegal, barely starting out with dreams of making it to law school one day. A sick mother at home had meant your law school dreams had taken the back burner. Your mom had been part of the last of the baby boomers and their idealized version of marriage. She had taken care of the household, you and your dad. With her bedbound, your dad was completely lost. You took over and everything else had been pushed aside. No sign of any romantic partners or life outside of work and home. But the glint in your eye talking about becoming lawyer, let him know you had more to offer. You had told him how you had aced your LSATS, spent every night up until 4 in the morning studying for them. You were younger then, could handle the late nights. Shit, you are younger now. Just barely hitting your late 20s, if he had to guess.

After those nights spent over cold takeaway dinners and finishing the McDonald v. City of Newton case, he realized that family dinners with little more than polite conversation paled in contrast to those talks and stale fast food. He had tried to get you on his next case, but Neal had snatched you up the moment you were free. He remembered the apologetic look you gave him when he swung by your desk with some briefs to review.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. I’m already working with Mr. Longudice. But you can leave those here and I’ll look at them when I get a chance.” You fidgeted with your pen, twirling it between your fingers. It was your nervous tick, he had noticed it the first night when you had found a passage that completely derailed his current case plan.

He nodded and walked away, noticing Neal looking on from the corner smirking. Fuck him, he wasn’t going to just use you to improve his standing in the department. He watched as the month progressed and Neal worked you into the ground. He found you more and more frequently in the break room, loading up on coffee. You were up to four glasses a day. That couldn’t be good for you. Not if you still had to go home and get your mom ready for bed.

He started to stay later and later, just to make sure someone was still here when you left. Neal took most of his case work home, leaving you with a list of readings to cover and present the next day. He watched as you flipped through pages, making notes in the growing stack of legal pads, and only the small desk lamp providing any light. He told Laurie that he had a big case he was finishing up. It was easier to keep working at his desk, instead of making the trip home, only to end up in his study. It didn’t take much to persuade her. He was pretty sure she preferred having the time to herself, she barely moved when he finally made it home to bed.

One night, he had timed it just right to meet you at the elevators at the end of the night. He walked up behind you, watching as you raised your right foot to scratch at the back of your left calf. Your pencil skirt rippled around your hips as you ran your foot down your leg. The sensible flats, the same ones you had worn that first day skimmed down the back of your left calf and he wondered what it would be like to have you run those sensible flats down his pant leg. He could feel himself twitch in his dress pants. This was a first. Up until this point, he had found you endearing, wanting to help you as much as you helped everyone else. But now, right now, he could imagine grabbing onto your hips, dipping his head into the crook of you neck as he ground against your pert ass. He felt his cock harden that bit more at the image, starting to push against the fly of his dress pants. Using his overcoat from that day’s chilly morning, he covertly covered the front of his slacks.

It wasn’t until the chime announced the elevator’s arrival and you turned around, that he came out of his brief stupor. You smiled and waved him into the waiting lift. That smile did nothing to help him, he shoved his hand into pocket to discreetly adjust himself before walking towards you. Standing next to you, he could smell those last remnants of your perfume. Was it your perfume? It had been a 12 hour work day, maybe that smell was just you. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? You chatted with him, promising that you were going to get to those briefs he left. It would be the first thing you would work on the next day. He listened and tried his best to feign interest, but you then looked up at him as you made your promise to him, and all his brainpower was immediately redirected to willing away his excitement. His hand still in his pocket, it brushed against his tip and he cleared his throat to cover the small groan that wanted to escape.

Reaching the garage, he offered to walk you to your car. You had gestured to the nearly empty lot, but he only uttered, “Better to be safe.”

You only nodded, leading him to your small late 2000s sedan. Reaching the car, you opened the squeaky driver’s door and threw in your workbag and handbag, before easing yourself into the seat. Andy held the door open for you, only to close it once you had settled. Lowering your window, you gave him a smile, thanking him for the escort, “You really didn’t have to do that. You’re a good man, Mr. Barber.”

He leaned down into your window, sighing before bidding you a good night, “You get home safe, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t meant to let the term of endearment slip, but your bashful smile was all it took to let him know he would be using that name again. Watching as you drove off, he made his way to his car. Popping the trunk on the Audi and throwing in the coat and briefcase, he hustled back to front of the car. Giving one more look around the lot, he noticed the security cam pointed at the opposite corner of the garage. Slipping into the driver’s seat, he only took a second to think through his next action. Closing his eyes, he remembered your big eyes looking up at him in the elevator, promising him something and his hand reached down to his pants.

He hadn’t gone down, no matter how he tried to calm himself, his coat had been his only saving grace, hiding away his reaction to you. Wrestling with his belt and button of his pants, he shoved his fly open, grabbing onto himself through his boxer briefs. He had already been steadily growing a nice wet spot on the front side of his briefs. Admittedly, bumping against himself with his hand in his pocket as he walked with you, might have gone a long way to making that spot. A couple of strokes, he reached in and pulled himself out.

Fuck, his hands were still cold from outside. It made his cock jump in his hold and he imagined your little hand taking him. You would apologize to him about your cold hands.

“Sorry Mr. Barber. Let me warm up my hands.” The imaginary you whispered to him.

“Andy. Call me Andy, sweetheart.” He mumbled into the empty car.

He spit into the palm of his hand, before wrapping it around himself. He could feel you next to him, cuddling as much as possible against him, reaching across the console. Your hand stoking up and down, making sure to twist around the head of his cock. He dribbled onto your fingers and you took your thumb rubbing it along the tip urging more to come out.

“Fuck sweetheart. That feels so good. You’re making me feel so good.” He grunted, his head falling back against the headrest.

He could hear you giggle at that, pressing hard against the vein on the underside of his cock, causing it to throb in your hold.

“Ah shit, sweetheart, squeeze me. I know your hand is so little but try my sweet girl. Come on, try for me.” You would hum at that, reaching between his legs and grabbing onto his sack. Rolling his balls in one hand as you steadily stroked him with the other, giving a squeeze to his cock before a squeeze to his sack.

“What do you need Andy? Whatever you need, I promise I’ll give it to you. Please Andy, tell me what you need.” The imaginary you nipped at his neck, murmuring another promise into his neck.

“Fuck me, sweet girl. Look at me, watch me cum for you. Just for you, sweet girl. Just for you…” He reached for the empty coffee tumbler in his console, placing it under the tip of his cock as he let go. Groaning he pulsed a couple times, continuing to stroke himself until he drained himself fully, because that’s what you would do. You would never do a half ass job.

Sitting back, he looked into the tumbler, seeing a layer of his cum coating the bottom of the cup. He hadn’t cum that hard in a long time. But he supposed a sexless marriage would leave him with a lot of pent-up energy. Remembering Laurie, he grabbed a couple of napkins from the glove compartment, wiping himself before shoving them into the tumbler. After buckling his pants, he started the car, backing out lot and turning onto the freeway for home.

That night had been a couple of weeks ago and he found himself hovering around your desk as much as possible, asking for help finding a text. He would time your coffee breaks and bump into you in the breakroom to make small talk with you. Each time he saw you, he tried to get you to smile. Even on your most stressful days, your shoulders hunch, he would make quick jabs at Neal which would inevitably cause a small giggle to pass your lips. He liked those times, the sound of your laugh would get stored away in his mind, coming out only in the shower as he painted the walls for you.

When you came by with the potluck sign up sheet earlier this week, you mentioned that there were still a few sides left that no one had chosen. Looking at the list, he saw the mashed potatoes listed and quickly jotted his name down beside it. He could probably get Laurie to make it for him. She had been in a better mood recently. Had waited up for him when he worked late. She would welcome him to bed and curl into his side, rubbing circles along his chest. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but if it meant not having to deal with a moody Laurie daily, he would take it.

The day of the potluck, he walked in finding most of the office milling about. It didn’t look like much would be getting done today. With Thanksgiving tomorrow, most had spent the last few days easing into their vacation. He looked at the conference room to see the spread already laid out, you were flitting around making sure everything was set up just right.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you jumped a little as he came up behind you, placing the dish of mashed potatoes in front of you.

“This will be perfect,” you took the dish moving it next to someone’s version of cornbread stuffing.

Turning around, you smiled at him. He thought about stepping back from you, but instead stood still. Reaching up to his arm, you grabbed his elbow and let out small breath, “I should let everyone know it’s ready.”

Slipping from around him, you walked out to the bull pin area, inviting everyone to come and dig in. He watched as everyone hustled to the conference room as he stepped out of the other door. Making his way towards his desk, he settled down, starting up his computer to check some late correspondence. He needed to spend time with you but not with everyone around. He placed his coffee tumbler on the clay coaster that Jacob had made him back in 4th grade. Sighing, he would wait to talk with you later.

The din in the conference room started to slowly die down and looking at the clock he saw that it was nearly half past 2. Most of the office should be heading out for their holiday and he figured, now would be his best bet. Grabbing his stuff together, he headed back out to find the room mostly empty. He couldn’t possibly have missed you, could he? Staring out to the row of desks, he spotted your workbag and handbag still on your desk. So, you were here, just not in the conference room.

Walking into the breakroom, he saw you at the sink scrapping off food into the trash and rinsing off dishes. Standing in the doorway, he watched this small glimpse into the domestic side of you and fuck, if it didn’t do something for him. Imagining coming home to you in the kitchen, prepping dinner for the two of you. You would still have your work clothes on but only now you would be barefoot. You would relax into him as he came up behind you, arms circling your waist.

He let out a quick breath, shaking himself from his daydream, before setting down his bag on the small table in the room. Coffee tumbler in hand, he approached you, quietly interrupting your dishwashing, “I bet you haven’t even made yourself a plate.”

Looking down, followed by a small bashful smile, you nodded, “There was so much to do.”

Grabbing onto his mashed potatoes, he looked for a spoon before starting to serve a portion onto a plate, “Come on. It’s your potluck too. You should get to enjoy it too. Besides, you got to at least try these mashed potatoes. A lot of effort went into making them. Go on now, sit down.”

Watching you sit down, he turns back to the counter, grabbing the gravy boat beside the sink. Taking the coffee tumbler, he had set down, he carefully removed the lid before emptying the contents into the remaining gravy. He stared as the viscous liquid drizzled out. With the spoon, he quickly mixed the gravy with the new ingredient together before pouring out the mixture on the mashed potatoes.

Turning back towards you, you sat at the table patiently waiting for him as he set the plate in front you. Quickly thanking him, you dug in, spooning a generous amount, gravy and all, onto your utensil and bringing to your mouth.

“Mmm, that’s really good Mr. Barber. Kind of earthy tasting. Are there mushrooms in the gravy?” You looked at him, a small amount of gravy stuck to the side of your mouth.

“Something like that,” he whispered, eyeing that speck of gravy and reaching out to clean it from your lip.

“Oh, I’m a mess,” your cheeks heated as you grabbed a napkin to clean the corner of your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he replied, taking his thumb with gravy still on it and licking it clean, “Go ahead, finish it all.”

You followed his direction, cleaning your plate, your spoon making a sound as you laid it down. You had eaten it all. Enjoying it, if he were to go by the little happy noises you made as you ate. He knew you would love it.

“Here, let me put this up for you,” he took the plate and spoon back the sink and as he rinsed the plate, he asked over his shoulder, “Did you like it, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mr. Barber. I promise.”

He gulped, steadying himself against the counter at your promise.

“You know, what, why don’t you take the rest home? There’s still a little bit of mashed potatoes and gravy left,” he asked already reaching for the lid of the Tupperware Laurie had used when packing it this morning.

“I couldn’t do that. You made it, you should take it home,” you answered next to him, and he realized that you must have gotten up from the table.

Locking the lid on the dish, he turned to you, already handing over the remaining potatoes covered in his gravy, “I insist.”

He had made that gravy just for you. After stroking another one out in the front seat of his car in the courthouse parking garage, he had sprayed another load into his tumbler. Looking at the cup again, he swore each session’s load was getting bigger even though this was a daily occurrence at this point. It had ended with a particularly bountiful finish, as he imagined you between his legs. Head bobbing on this cock, tits hanging from your top, before you had spit onto his cock, trapping it between your breasts and finishing him with a hard snuck to just the mushroom head of his cock.

It hit him then what a waste it was to rinse out his tumbler every night when he got home. You would love the taste of him. He knew would. Over the next few days, he collected each load, storing it in his coffee tumbler on the top shelf of his fridge at home. He had a couple of close calls when Laurie asked why he was keeping his coffee cold. He brushed it off, saying it was just water. He was trying to stop drinking so much coffee. Bad for his health. She had just nodded, leaving the tumbler alone.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you nodded taking the dish with a smile.

“You can call me Andy. Promise you will?” He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets, giving himself room in the suddenly tight pants.

“I promise. Thank you, Andy,” smiling up at him, he swore you could feel what he did. He swore you knew exactly what he had given you. Swore that you were happy and willing to take it. His sweet girl would take anything he gave her.

“You almost done, Ace?”

Andy was interrupted from his trance, hearing a male voice enter the room.

“Jake!” You called to the blonde man walking into the room. His shirt was untucked and his tie not quite knotted straight.

“I’m supposed to take you out for a Friendsgiving dinner today, remember?” Jake moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Who in the ever-loving fuck is this guy? Andy watched as you hugged Jake around the waist, shaking your head, ready to apologize, “I’m sorry Jake. My day got away from me. Oh, this my kind of boss, Andy. Andy Barber.”

Jake reached out a hand to him to shake while his other still stayed slung along your waist, “Jake. Nice to meet you.”

Andy looked at the hand in front of him, before nodding and giving this fucker a firm handshake. If he squeezed a little harder than he should, well that wasn’t on him.

“Go get your stuff together and then we’ll head out,” Jake whispered down at you, to which you just nodded and flitted out the room.

Stuck with just Jake in the room, Andy leaning back against the sink giving this other guy a once over. He wouldn’t be an issue. No way did this guy have the prowess or charm to lure you away. You were his sweet girl. This fucker wouldn’t change that.

“I’m only going to say this once, leave her alone.”

Andy looked back at Jake, eyebrow raised, before scoffing, “And who are you exactly?”

“I’m guy who knows how to download the feed from the parking garage’s cameras.” Andy swallowed hard as Jake stared him down. He refused to nod, instead crossing his arms and looking down.

“I’m ready Jake!” You came back in, your handbag slung over your shoulder and the mashed potatoes in your arms as Jake took your workbag from you.

“Let’s shake a leg then, Ace,” you giggled at Jake and Andy frowned. When did that giggle change from just being his?

“Bye Andy. I’ll see you next week. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Waving goodbye to the two of you, Andy waited to hear the ding of the elevator before grabbing the tumbler and throwing it across the room. It clanked against the wall before rolling back towards his feet.

Hands on hips, he looked down at the cup. It was okay. Jake couldn’t do anything to him. He had checked to make sure the cameras were never pointed at him. But you, his sweet girl, he needed a new plan. Grabbing the cup from the floor, he rinsed it before setting it next to the empty coffee maker.

It hit Andy then. You did love your coffee. And you always made sure to have cream with it.

@buckybarnesisdaddy, @theinheriteddutchess, @sarahdonald87

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber smut #defending jacob #dark andy barber #jake jensen #the losers (2010)

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months

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AITA for calling my mother and MIL selfish, insecure, pieces of shit over a friend's necklace?

Some background: I, 25F, just married the love of my life, who we'll call J.

I was introduced to J in our junior year of high school by our mutual friend, who we'll call G. G has always been a super important person to us. She is one of our best friends, and the three of us are very close. She was actually the first person we told when we started dating. We are both pretty protective over G, as she is autistic and has crippling anxiety and struggles a lot day to day. She was actually living with us when this story occurred because she had been spiraling on her own, and her parents lived too far for her to commute to her work from their house. She's been in therapy for years and has been doing a lot better than when we first met her, but we still tend to be pretty protective over her, as she has very few friends besides us. We often joke that she's our practice kid because she goes everywhere with us and has a complete lack of common sense despite being one of the smartest people I know.

In the last week of our junior year, J gave me, G, and another friend of his, necklaces that he made. They were nothing fancy, just pieces of rocks that he carved (?) and tied a string around, but G loved it. It acted as a reminder that she had people who cared about her when her anxiety spiked, and she's worn it almost every day for the last 9 years, to the point where J replaced the string with a thin chain because it broke from use. It's a comfort item, and wearing it is part of her routine.

Another important thing to note is that J and I both have pretty bad relationships with all of our parents. Both of our parents are messily divorced, and the only ones we visit regularly are my dad and stepmom. We still decided to invite all of them to the wedding and involve our mom's in the wedding party to avoid drama, and because some small part of me still wanted my mom to be involved in my wedding like a real parent.

Shortly before our wedding, I was talking to my mom and J's mom in our kitchen about some details for the wedding party and the bridesmaid and groomsmen accessories. I made a joke that no matter what we picked, G would be wearing her necklace. They wanted to know what I meant, and while I was explaining, G came into the kitchen to grab a snack. (Side note: neither of them like G, and my mom in particular has made several abelist comments in the past about her stimming or lack of social awareness) When I was done, my mom turned to G and asked if she was going to wear it at our wedding. Confused, G said yes, and my mom lost it. She called her disrespectful and accused her of trying to break up me and J because J gave her that necklace, and it was bad manners to wear a present from the groom or something. J's mom backed her up and said a lot of awful things I won't repeat, but were really abelist, arophobic (G is open about being aromantic), and included several slurs.

I was completely blindsided. I knew they had those awful opinions, but I had never heard them do anything even remotely close, and I sat there stunned at first until G started to cry and hyperventilate (she has trauma around situations similar to this, and she was already on edge because of a recent death in her family). When that happened, it was like a switch flipped. I got between G and my mom, who at this point had gotten out of her seat and was getting close to G. I told them both to get out, and when they refused I told them they were selfish, insecure, pieces of shit, that they had no right to say any of that to G, and that just because they couldn't keep their husband's didn't mean they had any right to interfere and try to create problems where there weren't any.

At this point, J came home and saw G panicking and immediately reacted. He told our moms to leave, and this time, they left. After they left, it took us almost 2 hours to calm G down from her panic attack, and the whole time, I was boiling with rage over the interaction. After she fell asleep, I told J what had happened. He was completely on my side, and we even discussed banning them from the wedding unless they apologized. G has been far more supportive of us than they have been, and if I had to choose, I would rather have her by my side on my wedding day. Ultimately, we let G decide since she was the one they went after, and she said she would be okay, so they came to the wedding and thankfully didn't mention the necklace at all. However, they told our respective families what happened, and I've been getting texts from family members telling me I went too far in bringing up their divorces, and that I should apologize, especially since the fight was over something as small as a necklace.

I don't think I was wrong to defend G, but I know I tend to overreact in situations where she is involved, and J is as bad as I am. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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moontyun · 18 days

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Pairing: prince!Jungwon x peasant!reader Genre: romance, lost friends, attempted humor, attempted angst?, childhood friends to lovers Synopsis: People out grow each other all of the time. That was the natural process of life, but not for him. Everywhere he turned you were there. You were always someone he could not leave behind again. He'd lost you once, he wasn't going to lose you again. Word count: 1.2K Warning(s): brief mention of death, mentions of execution

Round two

The whole room was being torn apart. Clothes littered the floor. Jewelry hanging off of light fixtures, the curtains practically torn down from the windows. You searched every little corner in the house for it. You had been searching for it for hours by now. It was starting to feel like the dahlia issue all over again. You hadn’t even thought about the necklace in years. So why now? Why out of the blue was this the most important thing to find?

You hadn’t even thought about that person in a long time. You couldn’t even remember what he looked like, nevermind what his name was. What you did know was that his mother did not particularly like you. You had only met her once and you knew immediately that she did not want you around her son. Once was enough for her to get her point across for you. You remembered the day she kicked you out. The look of absolute disgust she had for you, the anxiousness that had crossed your friends face, that was something you wouldn’t forget.

You attempted to sneak your way back into the palace but every time you tried, you could not find a way in. The hole in the fence was filled in with brick and cement. As solid as it could be. The only way around it was to jump over it and you succeeded once. The next day, a sharp barbed wire topper was put in place. You missed hanging out with him, he was your friend. But if it was really this difficult to see him, it wasn’t worth you risking getting hurt just to see him.

A few years past and you soon forgot all about him having met new people and making new friends. Friends like Riki, who was lazing around in the bedroom as you continued to throw things around. “You know, when I invited you over today, I thought, wow you know who would be useful in helping me?” You paused, he looked at you expectantly, “Heeseung.” his smirk fell, “But he was busy today. So get up and help me, you toad.”

Riki clicked his tongue before getting up and helping you look. “It’s been missing for years, you aren’t going to find it.” Maybe he was right, you had been looking for hours and still couldn’t find anything. “It didn’t mean all that much to you, if you lost it.” Not necessarily true. You always lost things. You had no sense of object permanence. Riki had given you a key to his house multiple times but someway, somehow, you always managed to lose it. Heeseung had given you a bracelet for your birthday last year and you had done a good job of keeping it on you at all times for the first couple of months. But sooner or later, it went missing. Heeseung was so upset when you lost it. Good thing you found that a couple of minutes ago, immediately, you put it on your wrist.

“Just because I lose things doesn’t mean they aren’t important. I just don’t pay attention to where I put them.” you continued to rummage through all of your things. “Maybe it’s in the living room...” You mumbled to yourself. You got up and rushed to the living room, leaving Riki in the hell hole that was your room.

“Your mom is going to be pissed you tore up the living room!” He shouted from behind you.

“I’ll just blame it on you!” You replied, as you started to riffle through every single drawer.

Riki walked into the living room and started to help you look here, “What’s so important about it, anyway?” You couldn’t answer that. There wasn’t really anything to answer it with other than a friend from years ago had given it to you and you had a dream two nights ago about it and have had a drive to find it since then. There was nothing more to it. You shrugged in response, he didn’t really need an answer right now, you figured you could explain it better once you found it.

Finally, you sat down, feeling defeated. It had been hours and you still had no idea where the cute necklace was. It was beginning to look like a lost cause until Riki sat down next to you, holding up the necklace, dangling it in the light. The sunlight hitting it just right to make it glitter and sparkle. “Don’t lose it again.” Your face lit up with relief. He’d found it, just like he’d found the dahlia field. Sometimes it was like he was a magician. A little weird magician.

You took the necklace and immediately placed it around your neck. “Where was it?” you asked, excitedly.

“Hanging from your ceiling fan.” He was happy to see you so happy about having it back, “Now, are you ready to tell me why it’s important all of a sudden?”

Candles flickered down the dark hallway. There wasn’t a single sound, a pin being dropped on the other side of the room could be heard. The palace had never been this quiet before. Usually, the place would be bustling with people rushing about getting their chores done or prepping for a meeting that was happening that morning. The energy was very different today, it was like someone had died.

Something definitely was not right. He continued down the hallway reaching the king’s audience chamber. As he got closer, he could hear hushed voices through the door. His father’s booming voice, trying to whisper, was a bit silly for him to even attempt to do. His father's voice carried no matter how much he tried to remain quiet. Jungwon slowly opened the door, getting a better listen to the conversation.

“-execute their king? Have you- Prince Jungwon,” His father’s general of war stopped, “What are you doing here?”

Execute what king? There was only one other king he knew of, was on the other side of the country now. The two had grown up as acquaintances, going to family picnics, celebrating the holidays together. He just earned the title of king a few months ago, his father had passed on and now it was his time to reign. “Sunghoon?” He was still so young, to rip him away from his mother so soon after her own husband had passed would be cruel. He could not lose a friend. He was already short in supply.

The king let out a huff, “So glad my son has decided to join us in this matter.” He said, coldly. “Please have a seat, Jungwon.”

He didn’t like the ice in his father’s tone. He knew what it meant, if made one wrong move he was gone. The memory of the ghost room and the demons that lived in there came rushing back. He did as he was told, like he always did. Sitting there silently, Jungwon continued to listen in on the conversation.

He wasn’t going to speak out of turn, he wasn’t going to do anything that would cause more damage than was already done. “Executing their king would be going too far, we need him. He’s the puppet we need.”

masterlist! ☆ next! ☆ previous!

Tag list is open! Send an ask to be added! : @laylasbunbunny @woniefull

#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen tarot #enhypen fluff #enhypen #jake sim #sim jaeyun #park jongseong #jay park #park sunghoon #lee heeseung #yang jungwon #kim sunoo #nishimura riki

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silalcarin · 8 months

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Squall and Rinoa actually, surprisingly, have a lot in common

No, seriously, I just randomly thought of this as I've been revisiting Final Fantasy VIII, for the first time in 20 years, over the last few weeks. Don't get me wrong, Squall and Rinoa have vastly different personalities (he's an introvert, she's an extrovert), but, outside of that, they share a lot of similarities:

Both are originally from the Galbadia region — Squall was born in Winhill; Rinoa was born and raised in Deling City.

Both lost their mothers at a very young age — Raine died after she gave birth to Squall; Julia died right before Rinoa turned 5.

Both have non-existent relationships with their fathers in the present time — in the game, Squall never directly finds out that Laguna is his long-lost father; Rinoa has been estranged from Caraway for who knows how long.

Both look more like their mothers than their fathers, in terms of physical appearance — while aboard the Ragnarok at the end of Disc 3, Kiros and Ward both comment that Squall looks very much like Raine, and that it's a good thing he doesn't look like Laguna; Rinoa is almost a carbon-copy of Julia.

Both wear a ring on a necklace — Squall wears a pendant of Griever above a cross that's reminiscent of the Cross of Saint James, as well as a ring featuring a profile of Griever, around a chain; Rinoa wears what appears to be Julia's wedding ring around a chain. In Disc 3, Squall tells Rinoa to keep the Griever ring when she willingly goes to Esthar to be self-restrained and they think they'll be separated forever (which is touched upon in bullet #7 below).

Both are strategists and leaders of their respective groups, SeeD (Squall) and the Forest Owls (Rinoa).

Both are driven, impulsive, and persistent — Squall is determined to complete the assassination mission after Irvine fails to kill the Ultimecia-possessed Edea in Deling City; he hastily saves Zell when the latter is about to be shot in the head at the D-District Prison; and there's everything he does and perseveres through to save Rinoa in Disc 3 (which I've already covered in my previous post). Rinoa is determined to liberate Timber with the Forest Owls; she hastily tries to suppress the Ultimecia-possessed Edea by herself in Deling City; and, despite being scared and knowing that she may be cryogenically frozen forever, she perseveres in her decision to seal away her Sorceress powers, prevent Ultimecia from possessing her again, and keep the world safe from her.

Both prefer to not talk or think about the future — this is made explicitly clear during the good date at the Garden Festival in Fishermans Horizon (Irish Jig/Let's Dance = Guitar, Violin, Flute, and Tap) in Disc 2, and during the romance scene in the Ragnarok in Disc 3.

Both have had a fear of isolation since they were 4 years old — Squall has suffered from loneliness ever since Ellone had to leave Edea's orphanage; dummied out dialogue (during the aforementioned romance scene in the Ragnarok in Disc 3) indicates that Rinoa has suffered from loneliness ever since Julia died and Caraway became too busy.

Welp, that's 9 similarities. I think I covered everything. I'm glad I got that off my chest. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk!

P.S. — If anyone can think of more similarities between them that I missed, please feel free to add your two cents! (Word to the wise: I have consistently kept my replies limited to only the Tumblr accounts I follow, because I don't have time for negativity of any kind.)

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liyawritesss · 1 year

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summertime crushin’

Characters: MCU!Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: In Shuri’s attempts to follow in her brother's footsteps and continue his work with the Wakandan International Outpost Facilities, she finally takes up Riri’s offer to visit Chicago. However, she isn’t sure if it's the intense summertime heat that has her face burning or the incredibly talented dance choreographer Riri is friends with.

Warnings: cursing

A/N: For the two dances mentioned: the first is “Killing Me Softly” by Lauryn Hill, choreography by Evan Miller (0:08-2:10), and the second is “BMO” by Ari Lennox, choreography by YeoJin (0:00-1:15), of which (Y/N) is the middle dancer with coloured hair. I’ve had this idea since FOREVER and finally had enough of it swimming in my head, so I finally wrote it down. Hope you all enjoy!

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @6-noir @playhousedistee @shuririsdefenseattorney @shuriszn @zayswriting @wrendermedone @writingintheshadowsforever @mbakuetshurisprincess @verachii @shurisbigtoe

“So the arts are a prominent aspect of the city’s identity?”

“We don’t got our own Broadway title for nothin’, Shuri.”

Shuri could admit to herself that she never thought much of the US outside of the horrible government leadership and the plethora of pathetic white supremacists who hid behind a thin veil of patriotism. She admired her brother’s work, though, with wanting to provide more than adequate resources to black communities all over the US, and as her new title required her to take up the work in question, it only made sense that she’d cut her vacation in Haiti short to get acclimated to the work her brother and mother maintained.

Shuri could also admit that the immense creativity and artistry from members of the Lost Tribe gave her a culture shock she didn’t know she needed to prepare herself for. Even in her mid-twenties, the queen-presumptive had so much to learn about the people who had been stripped of their lineage and ripped from the motherland. No amount of reading or digesting news reports could amount to actually witnessing it in person.

Which is exactly why Riri, Shuri’s self appointed guide to all things Chicago, was escorting the scientist around all the most notable establishments pertaining to all this visual and performance art. From the Chicago Art Museum to watching bands play on corners of sidewalks, Shuri never found herself bored or tired of the activities. And next on the list of places to visit was a storefront dance studio belonging to a friend of the young engineer, of which Riri was rather ecstatic about, as she hadn’t seen this friend since their highschool days.

Shuri didn’t know what to expect when she entered into the storefront dance studio, following Riri in close pursuit so as to not get lost amongst the other bodies leaving the space. Her only exposure to black American dance was from short clips online she had searched up as a child. Though in an ever changing society, the dark skinned woman was sure that what she had been exposed to prior would surely not be the same as what she would be walking into now.

Shuri is pulled into a room that’s blasting music from the speakers, a song from a voice the queen-presumptive remembers belongs to that of the infamous Lauryn Hill. The robust deepness of the rapper’s voice rises goosebumps along Shuri’s skin, bare and showing her deeply melanated tone. She’s in a forest green tank top that emphasizes her shoulders, her golden necklace housing her panther suit rested neatly around her neck. Black shorts clothed her legs, stopping just above her knees, and on her feet for a pair of strapped slides similar to ones her brother wore long ago. Of course, one could not forget the black shade which hid her eyes, and the majority of her identity, from everyone around her.

Compared to Riri, who wears a white cropped tank, black jogging pants and white AF1’s, the engineer looks much more prepared for a dance class than Shuri is, but she was quickly assured that they wouldn’t be dancing, but rather, watching a few of the dances done by the students within the class. It eased Shuri for a moment, until she walked into the dance space with the loud music reverberating through the walls of the studio. With the melody and bass over taking her body, Shuri couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.

“This is one of the best dance studios in the city,” Riri says over the music as the two make their way to the front of the crowd of students, “they do everything from Hip-Hop to R&B, and everything in between.”

Shuri nods along as she takes note of the three men standing in the middle of the crowd. They seem to be hyping themselves up up as the first part of the Lauryn Hill song plays, preparing for their routine.

“You about to get a taste of what real art looks like.” Riri muses, as the aforementioned men take their places as the first chorus of the song ends, and the second verse, and ultimately, their routine, begins.

Firstly, Shuri hadn’t expected for the male dancers to have such languid movements. The smoothness of their steps and transitions between each move seemed flawless, and she soon found herself entranced by the dance routine paired with the music playing. Much more, she notes just how happy they are at the moment. The popping and locking is precise, each one garnering a roar from their audience, in turn spreading smiles across the dancers faces. It feels their energy, keeping the precision consistent with the execution of each move. Even as one dancer falls off at what seems to be the end of the official routine, two of them stay on the main floor. They feed off of each other’s energies, dancing around each other in a near touch that shows the trust in each other and the intuition of each dancer. They move as if they’re reading each others mind, circling and molding around each other in a way Shuri had never seen before. And by the end of the performance, the queen-presumptive finds herself yearning for more.

“Bast”, Shuri gasps in shock, “I’ve never seen anything like this. Not even back home!”

Riri encourages Shuri’s amazement, engaging with her in reveling about the choreography they had just witnessed. Her attention is taken when she feels a tap on her shoulder, and when Riri turns around, she releases a shriek of happiness as she embraces the person who’d come up to her.

Shuri is able to get a good look at the person when Riri pulls away. A woman of melanated skin, sun-kissed and glossed over undoubtedly by perspiration, sporting a gray jogging suit set with the hoodie bunched up and hiked over on one shoulder, revealing a black sports bra underneath.

“You made it, Ri!” You exclaim in your embrace of the engineer, hugging her tight as a long lost friend should. “Fuck, I’m so glad youre here; it’s been years!”

“I heard you were back in town, I knew exactly where yo’ ass was gon’ be.” Riri replies, gesturing for you to step forward to be introduced to Shuri.

“This is the friend I told you I was bringing.” Riri reminds, earning a gentle smile from you to Shuri. “Shuri, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), Shuri.”

You held your hand out for a handshake, but Shuri is too distracted by how pretty you are. “It’s nice to meet you,” you greet, “I’ve never met a queen before. Hope it’s not awkward…?”

“No, no,” Shuri quickly reassures, raising her hand to finally take yours in your greeting, “not awkward at all. And the pleasure is mine.”

Shuri isn’t sure what caught her attention first - the fact that you’re half exposed with your hoodie only properly being on half way, exposing your toned stomach from what Shuri suspects is years of dance, or the way your eyes glisten with excitement, or the way your skin is glowing. She just knows that you’re very pretty and it’s making her look like a fool in front of someone she just met. And she doesn’t do well when that happens.

“My piece is up next,” you say, which brings Shuri out of her head and causes her ears to burn slightly, as she was so stuck in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that her hand still held yours in a firm grip. She quickly pulls it away, muttering a quiet apology in return, but you reassure her that she was alright, “you guys sticking around after?”

“Hell yeah we are,” Riri hurriedly answers, “you owe me lunch, cuz you got some explaining to do about how you just dipped and ain’t say shit.”

“Fine, fine,” You relent, “lunch on me. We’ll figure it out when I’m done, cool?”

Though you don’t give them much time to respond, as you’re already backing away as you hear your song being played over the speakers, and your dance partners already in place. Riri throws you a quick thumbs up, granting you the relief you need for jogging out onto the dance floor.

Shuri’s eyes follow you intently as you meet up with the two other dancers located on the floor. She, however, feels a pair of eyes on her, and turns to meet Riri, who has a look on her face that Shuri can only akin to smugness.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Shuri questions slowly, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Hm,” Riri humans, “nun’.”

“Don’t do that!” Shuri groans.

“Do what?” Riri asks. “I ain’t do nun’...I just peep shit and keep it movin’.”

“Exactly,” Shuri responds, “and what exactly did you ‘peep’-?”

“Shhhh,” Riri shushes Shuri as the melody for the verse comes in, “they’re starting!”

It doesn’t take much effort for Shuri’s attention to shift directly onto you, and she’s actually glad she has these shades on, because she has an idea of what Riri says she ‘peeped’, and the intensity of her stare would have given Riri all the proof she needed to confirm her suspicions.

From the very start of the music, your body moves fluidly, as if you were a deity of water, at home in your element. There’s a certain aura you carry - one of power and respect that you’re sure has earned you your place in this studio. Each and every one of your moves garners a roar of encouragement from the audience, and it spurs you on more and more, feeding off of the crowd's energy. The suave and swag that oozes from your persona has everyone on the edge of their seat. It becomes clear to Shuri that you weren’t just a dancer for entertainment. This was your very lifestyle, and you’ve made it your identity in every way imaginable. She watched as life was breathed into you on the dance floor, spurred on by the crowd’s hype, feeding into your ego.

And by the time your set has finished, Shuri finds herself falling in love with Chicago a little bit more, and experiencing her first summertime crush.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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otdiaftg · 11 months

Text

The Raven King - Chapter Ten

Day: Monday, October 30th Time: 11:10 AM EST

"I asked you this once and you didn't really answer," Neil said. "Now can you tell me why Andrew likes you?" "Last year Andrew took a few of us out to Eden's Twilight one at a time," Renee said. "You know now why Andrew invited Matt. He invited Dan to see if she was a woman worth following on the court. He asked me because he, like you, didn't buy into this front." She gestured at her face and rested her fingertips on her cross necklace. "He wanted the truth, so I told him. Andrew found out he and I have a lot in common." Renee glanced at Neil as they stopped at a crosswalk on Perimeter Road. "The only differences between us are luck and faith." "And psychosis," Neil said. Renee smiled. "Maybe not. I am a bad person trying very hard to be a good person, but I would not be trying at all if not for the outside interventions in my life. I grew up with my mother and her string of heavy- handed boyfriends." She seemed unbothered by her words and turned a calm stare on the crosswalk as she spoke. "Maybe it is inevitable that I got into trouble myself. I started working as a lookout and runner for one of Detroit's gangs. It took me a couple years to work my way up to harder work. I did anything they asked me to and didn't care who I hurt. Fortunately for me, I was not as smart as I thought I was. When I was fifteen the police caught me, and my lawyer traded my testimony for a reduced sentence. My words got a lot of people in trouble, including my mother. My lawyer explained my home life so the court would understand my lack of positive role models. His findings sent both my mother and her then-lover to prison on assorted charges. They were beaten to death by angry members of the gang I helped put away." "I'm sorry," Neil said, when in reality he was a little jealous. Both she and Wymack lost their parents to prison violence, but no one dared attack his father. It would solve a world of problems for Neil if a few inmates could just work up enough aggression and courage. "I'm not," Renee said, jarring Neil from his thoughts. Renee started across the street but it took Neil a couple seconds before he could follow her. Renee smiled at him when he caught up. "I know I should be, but that's still something I'm working on. I know I was directly responsible for the circumstances that led to their murders, but to be honest I hated them. On top of that, without my mother's death I never would have ended up here."With my mother dead and my biological father in the wind, the courts had no choice but to release me into foster care after my year at a juvenile facility," Renee said. "I made life as difficult as I could for my foster families and jumped eight homes in two years. Stephanie Walker found out about me from one of my foster mothers at her high school reunion. She put in a request for me, pushed until it was approved, and moved me to North Dakota as soon as it was finalized. She gave me a new name, a new faith, and a new chance at life." Renee hadn't been exaggerating when she said she and Andrew were a lot alike. They had violent, unstable upbringings thanks to their mothers and spent time in both juvie and the foster system. Their paths split irrevocably after their respective adoptions. Renee let Stephanie shape her into a decent human being and atoned for her past brutality whereas Andrew murdered his mother the first chance he got. Neil finally understood why Renee wasn't afraid of Andrew.

Art used with permission by Lunapiq. Thank you @lunapiq

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mash4077confessions · 1 month

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For your last reblog, please do Mulcahy!!! I love your answers for him. You’re almost single handedly keeping Mulcahy girlies alive!

Thank you very much 😊

Alrighty, let's do the rest of these headcanon questions for Mulcahy!

3) Who depends on them? Everyone at 4077th, in someway shape or form, even if they don't really notice it. He would be prime for an "It's A Wonderful Life" kind of episode.

Back in Philadelphia...it's a very different story. Hell, one of the main reasons why he volunteered to go to Korea, was because he wanted to be useful and no one seemed to need him in Philadelphia.

4) What they would do if they had one month to live?

At first, I think Mulcahy would be very angry. He'd randomly lash out, he'd be hitting his punching bag. Then he'd get very solemn. He'd pray (a lot more than usual), and he'd drink heavily. Then Mulcahy would come out of that, and decide that his last days were better spent on others, instead of pitying himself.

He'd donate all his money, spend extra time with his friends and Kathy. He might even reach out to his brothers that he's long since stopped speaking to.

Mulcahy would give his all till the last moment of life, and still he'd ask quietly to himself, whether or not he'd really done enough.

5) A cherished personal belonging?

Well he has several things I can think of off the top of my head. The crucifix necklace he wears all the time, that was from Kathy. She gave it to him when he decided to join the church, and so it is very valuable to him.

He also has several photographs that he made a point to bring with him to Korea (one of his parents on their wedding day, as no one else seemed interested in having it, a picture of him and Kathy as toddlers, and then the one family portrait they had done when he was still a baby).

There is also his rather healthy library he took with him as well (Plato, War and Peace, The Completed Works of Shakespeare).

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back?

his hearing

His mother. She died just before his 18th birthday. I'm still deciding what actually killed her, but it definitely was caused in part to her having had so many children (7 total). It does things to your body.

If we're just talking about a general item, he has "lost" a couple of autographs from his favorite boxers (I say lost in quotations because what really happened was a nun found his autographed boxing magazines, including one signed by Artie Levine, and she threw them away because she didn't think it was appropriate for a priest to have so many images of shirtless men laying around. She claimed it was the boxing she took issue with, but we know what she was really thinking).

7) This character’s favorite character?

Hawkeye. It kinda goes without saying. Mulcahy is often in awe of him, and he finds him humorous (although a tad obnoxious at times), and he goes to him for help because he knows Hawkeye will be there when he needs him and won't judge him for reaching out.

Mulcahy is also great friends with Potter, though the man is much older than he is, they have a surprising amount in common (side note: is it just me or when William Christopher got old, he started looking more like Harry Morgan?)

Mulcahy also has very close friendships with both Klinger and Sidney.

8) What kind of car they would drive?

I don't think Mulcahy owns a car in his civilian life. Public transportation would have still been pretty common in 1950s Philadelphia and when he was in college at Loyola, that was in Chicago. No real big need to own a car when you're in a city center. That said, if he did have a vehicle, it would be old and second-hand. It would work but it wouldn't be fancy. Probably white or sand colored.

10) How they deal with pain?

Like physical pain? Dude can take a hit. When he was a featherweight boxer (his former life before Kathy got him to become a priest) he'd have concussions, couple broken ribs, black eyes, etc. Of course he gave as good as he got, and then some. But he has a pretty high pain tolerance.

(If you want to talk about that time that Margaret hit him and he acted like he was in pain, it's because she's a woman and he can't hit a woman, so he knew he'd have no way to physically defend himself if she really decided to let him have it. She's also REALLY strong.)

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing?

Mulcahy isn't much into fashion. If it fits and doesn't have holes or stains on it, it's good enough for him. His priestly attire is more important to him than any civilian clothes he owns. That said, he is very fond of his Loyola hoodie (aren't we all?), that "G" baseball cap that Hawkeye bought him, and he does have one really nice lavender button down dress shirt (worn only on leave in Tokyo, which he seldom gets to do).

13) What kind of parent they would be?

The best kind. He would be soooooo loving and affectionate towards his children. He would spend so much time and energy engaging with them on their level. The kids at St. Teresa's Orphanage absolutely adore him, and he adores them right back. He's not great at discipline, though. That would be his partner's job, for sure. Not that he can't lay down the law, when needed, but he's afraid he's overdoing it and sounding like his father.

14) How they did in school?

Mulcahy was always very interested in learning and had no problem keeping up with the lessons. The trouble was that sometimes he just really wanted to read Plato or Aristotle or The Odyssey...and his teachers didn't appreciate him wanting to go off and do his own thing. He definitely got hit by at least one teacher at school fairly regularly for this.

Mulcahy always wanted to learn and discuss very broad topics, and his teachers didn't want to deal with that. Which was not great for him because they'd labeled him a troublemaker, and that got him the belt from his dad. Mulcahy always got on better with the girls in his class rather than the boys.

The boys were all like his brothers and his father; they wanted to rough house and when they got older, go skirt chasing. The girls liked him because he was sweet, and kind, and dorky. They felt safe with him. The boys also beat him mercilessly, until he was 12 and learned that it was OK to defend himself.

Many a time, he had his glasses broken, and once again, his dad would go right for the belt.

I think he was always on the outs in school, even in the seminary. I'm sure he had friends but he also had a lot of people looking at him as if he were just one giant question mark. No one really knowing what to make of him, and overlooking so many wonderful aspects of his being, because of that lack of understanding.

15) What cologne or perfume they would use?

I don't know if he really uses any. If Mulcahy does ever use cologne, it's going to be something cheap and earthy. He is a very cleanly person and he has really nice kinda fruity smelling soap and shampoo. Because he's around the church incense so often, it does stick to his robes. The incense has a nice cedar sort of smell to it.The point being in all this, is that he bathes regularly (probably the most often out of anyone in the main cast) and he does smell very nice.

17) What they’d sing at karaoke?

Something upbeat and fun. Maybe from a musical?

18) Special talents they have?

As previously stated, Mulcahy has a serious green thumb when it comes to his garden. He's also got one hell of a right hook for boxing. He plays piano (how well depends entirely on who you ask). Mulcahy has a pretty solid knack for gambling as a whole, but his odds do fair a lot better when making bets specifically on people...rather than cards. He can whistle pretty well too. Carries a nice tune when he sings (still better sounding with a partner).

Sometimes his most important talent is just getting people to agree to let things go with a small smile, and a tiny "please? 😇"

Mulcahy can also read Greek...though that's mostly just so he can read poetry in its original language.

Also did you see his sand castle in GFA? Dude has some mad skills to pull that one off without a mold.

Mulcahy is a mutitalented person. I didn't even name all his talents/skills.

20) Household chore they hate the most?

This is tough, because Mulcahy loves to clean. He loves dishes, and laundry, and finds dusting rather relaxing. Of course, this is all done as an act of service for someone else's benefit; the rest of the 4077th, those he shares the rectory with back home, his mother when he was a child, etc.

My best guess would be cooking. I think he can cook a fairly decent meal, but most of the time he's only ever cooked for himself and that immediately makes him disinterested in the task. He's just doing it because he has to eat. That's it.

21) Their fondest childhood memory?

Ok, not counting the Gentleman Joe memory because we already know all about that one. I'd say it's a memory of a time with his mother for sure. A time when the house was quiet, because his older brothers and Kathy were away at school, his father was working, and there with his head nestled in his mother's lap was baby Mulcahy, listening to her as she read to him, and stroked his head. It was a good place to be.

22) How they spend their money?

While in Korea most of his money goes to St. Teresa's Orphanage and a few creature comforts for himself.

Back at home he definitely still gives a lot to charity (he has his preferred organizations within the greater Philadelphia area). Of course he has to spend money on necessities such as food, toiletries, clothing items as they fall apart, etc. He gives gifts to his loved ones from time to time as well (birthdays and Christmas in particular, but sometimes just to cheer people up).

As for money he spends on himself just because; well he gambles and you gotta have money on hand for that, he sometimes splurges and treats himself to a good quality cigar or a higher quality beer. He's got some good leather dress shoes that he keeps well polished. Oh! And on theater tickets (both plays and the movies). He also occasionally hits the local art museums and will spend hours there looking at the paintings and statues.

(And as I write this, I know suddenly really want to take him to the MET, because he'd absolutely love it.)

23) What kind of alcohol they drink?

Beer and occasionally wine. His max alcohol percentage is 5%. Anything stronger than that and he will get plastered so quickly. Most of the time, when he drinks you'll notice him sort of nursing his beer, as opposed to chugging for the finish. He actually likes the taste of beer, and usually isn't trying to get drunk.

24) What they wish they could change about themselves?

Mulcahy wishes he was a better orator, the kind that really puts the butts in the pews and has them all feeling God's words deep in their hearts. For clarification on this, he isn't a terrible speaker, but his sermons are loaded with dad Father jokes and thinly valed stories of people he knows.

In general, Mulcahy just wants to be better. To do better. He's chasing the approval of others, because he doesn't really approve of himself. Self validation isn't his thing.

25) What other people wish they could change about them?

The people who know and love Mulcahy, wish he could see himself as they see him (goes for most of the fandom as well, I think). But at the same time, his humility is part of what makes him, him, so maybe they just wish he wouldn't beat himself up so much.

People who don't like him or at least don't particularly care about him (Frank, some higher ranking members of the military, couple church officials from his home parish, etc) they would want him to be a bit more "fire and brimstone", and to have a bit more military sense. They want him to be more traditional and fundamentalist in his views. And they'd also like him to stop with the Bible puns. But they don't matter, because they don't like him anyway.

I feel like I've missed some small but still very vital details, but that's the trouble with headcanons; I could go on and on.

#mash #mash 4077 #father francis mulcahy #Headcanon #headcanon questions

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middlingmay · 5 months

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Model!John x Photographer!Gale AU

So this took a route I was not expecting. It gets a bit (a lot) rough, and I figured you might appreciate some trigger warnings first:

Drug abuse

Alcoholism

Death

Suicidal thoughts

Eating disorders

If any of these are triggers for you, maybe skip this one.

John never learned the meaning of the word 'shy'.

His mom said he came into the world demanding, and if he didn't learn to hold his tongue that's how he was going to leave it. Before she capitulated, kissed him on the head, and gave him what he wanted anyway.

Sure he and his sisters were definitely a little spoiled, but they were grateful for everything.

John always wanted to meet new people and try new things. When he was little, it meant he could float from group to group on the playground and never run out of buddies to play with. He played games and picked flowers and "hunted" for animals and found shapes in the clouds - whatever anyone wanted to do, he'd give it a try at least once.

Mrs Jean Egan was always answering the door to kids wanting to know if John was coming out to play - often little boys and girls that she knew didn't have many friends through no fault of their own. They said kids could be cruel, but not her Johnny.

That was another word she was sure he'd never learn.

But she was wrong.

Oh, John didn't learn how to be cruel, but he learned what cruelty was all the same.

When he was around 17, he and his best friend Curt started experimenting. Alcohol had been their go to buzz for a while, followed by weed, but they were ready to try something new, and chase new highs.

It was ecstasy at first, then coke. He and Curt always used some of the money they got from their part time jobs to score and got high on the weekends.

But then Curt started doing it through the week, without Johnny. Then he started spending all his money on the next fix. Then he started skipping shifts and lost him job and came to stay with John.

Then John's mom's locket went missing, and Curt right along with it. John had stared down his mother's heartbroken, disappointed face and his father's fury with tears in his eyes and his chin up.

"Curt wouldn't do that."

But when John found Curt in someone's basement with a needle sticking out his arm, he was forced to admit that maybe he didn't know his best friend - his brother - anymore.

When Curt came around and the heroin started to leave his system, he admitted to John he stole the necklace. He was in a bad way to worse people and had to hawk something for money, and John was the only person who still spoke to him who had anything of value. Only he'd stumbled across a dealer before he could pay off what he owed.

"Curt," he said, voice cracking and trembling and his hands shaking, "If I get you the money, you gotta stay clean. I'll do anything to help you, but you gotta stay clean."

Curt had promised, so faithfully, teased him and nuzzled him when they hugged just like always and John nearly collapsed with relief at the glimpse of the Curt he knew so well. The Curt he loved like no other.

He'd been fixing up a bike. It was a junker he'd begged his dad to get. John always needed to be doing something, and when he couldn't go outside and burn off his endless energy on sports or his friends or dancing or anything like that, the bike helped focus his head and keep his hands busy.

It was nearly done, and it would fetch a pretty penny. His dad was trying to get him to keep it - a memory, a keepsake to be proud of. But Curt needed him. He sold that bike so fast, and met Curt and the people he owed money to at the agreed place at the agreed time and just like that, Curt's slate was wiped clean. He was safe.

He turned to Curt expecting to see his famous grin, but Curt wasn't looking at him at all. His arms were folded tight across his body his lips bitten bloody, and he eyed the three men stood not ten feet away with a hunger.

They noticed, and grinned at Curt, and John grabbed him and hightailed them outta there. He wasn't an idiot. He new Curt was going to have a rough road ahead of him, but he'd have John in his corner the whole time.

The next day, he went to Curt's...squat, and found him wide-eyed and blue-lipped and lying on a rug, with one of the guys from yesterday standing over him, exasperated.

The guy clocked John and shrugged. "Opened up a new credit line after you paid his debt off yesterday. Said you'd see him square again. You owe $500."

The words rang in John's head as he started at Curt. Too still, too quiet.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

$500.

Because John had cleared the way.

There was a ringing in his ears. He couldn't feel his body. But he saw the man start to kick the edges of the rug over Curt like he was trash to cover up, and John lost it.

He lost it.

He would never regain any recollection of what happened. But subsequent police reports and therapists told him he'd nearly beaten the guy to death. He's seen his best friend dead in front of him and disassociated whilst he had wailed on the guy trying to dispose of his body. He'd fractured a few of his own fingers, but the other guy needed reconstructive surgery on his nose and cheek. John had broken an orbital bone. He'd fractured the guy's skull when he'd slammed it on the ground.

The only reason he didn't go to jail was because the guy didn't press charges, there were no witnesses, and nobody would give the police anything against John. They liked him too much.

John couldn't see why. He'd gotten his best friend killed. They should send him to fucking prison.

But he'd been ordered to have court-mandated counselling for anger, grief, and drugs.

But that was only the start of it. The drugs were easy. The first time he smoked a joint, he remembered Curt and vomited before the smoke made it all the way to the back of this throat. He never touched so much as a cigarette again.

But he took to alcohol real good. He wasn't a violent drunk or a mean drunk, but he got sad, and a little mouthy. And apparently one time he was talking to his sister about how Curt needed him and it was about damn time and why the fuck am I hanging around here for anyway? You'll be better off without me and he needs me, he'd scared the living daylights out of her, and John was admitted to a psyche ward for depression and suicidal tendencies.

His therapist spoke about survivor's guilt and self-destructive behaviour and coping mechanisms.

It took a long time for anything she said to filter through. Not before the only thing John could control stuck in here, his food, became a new crutch.

Later, years into his recovery, he was still surprised how quickly you could lose weight when you just stopped eating. It sounded stupid, but...

The third time he was hospitalised, he woke up to see his dad crying. His mom and sisters weren't there. just dad. He held John's spindly, skeletal hand in his and cried, noisy and wet, and didn't notice John was awake.

"Why d'you want me to bury my boy," he moaned, like an animal who has to watch its young get eaten by the predator, knowing they can't do anything to stop it, save make awful, awful, whining sounds. "Look at you. You're already dead - just ain't put in the ground, yet. Why can't you stay? Stay, John." He broke down into tears. "I'll fuckin' - I'll do anything. I'll scrape the fat of my bones and put in on ya. I'll do anything."

And John fell asleep to the wet splash of tears coating the hand his father held.

Something changed in John, then.

It wasn't miraculous. It certainly wasn't easy, but he tried. Every day, he tried.

He talked to his therapists and ate as much of what they gave him as he could. When he gained enough weight back and his therapist secured funding for him to get the help he needed back home, he was released from the hospital.

His mom and his sisters had stayed at the house to decorate it with a big welcome home banner and streamers - no party food, thank god - and his dad hovered, hands fluttering at John's side, carrying his bags, opening doors, fluffing pillows and duvets he wasn't even lying on yet, and making himself a list of errands for things John hadn't asked for.

And John hugged him with a strength he hadn't felt in a long time.

"I gotta go do something first," he said. "I gotta see Curt's mom."

His dad had looked afraid, but didn't stop him.

When Nora Biddick opened the door to see John standing there in baggy clothes, grey skin and bags under his eyes, she looked at him all steel and said words that cut him more than any hateful, blame-ridden thing she could have said.

"Curt would be furious at what you've done to yourself, John Egan."

He'd gone straight from there to the cemetery where Curt was buried. There, he screamed and shouted and sobbed and hurled everything insult he could think of at the person he'd loved most in this world for leaving him here - for going where he couldn't follow. For making him see what he could never unsee and put him on a road he sometimes thought he would never get to the end of.

Exhausted, he fell asleep with his hand curled on the lip of Curt's tombstone.

When he woke up, he was in strong arms he had vague memories of carrying him as a child, and the same cologne his dad still wore all these years later.

When he woke up again, in his bed this time, he had a sister on either side, and they looked so peaceful - the tension finally gone from the creases of their eyes and the sides of their mouths - that he hadn't the heart to wake them, and fell asleep again.

It took John years to consider himself mostly recovered. He knew he never would be, not really. As long as he remembered Curt - and he would never forget him - he would always hurt a little.

But by his late twenties, he had a career working with the families and friends of addicts, and with people recovering from eating disorders. He channelled his control issues into workouts and sports teams, and his body developed thick and strong because of it.

A charity he volunteered for, that helped queer kids with body positivity, had taken a serious funding hit, and one of the committee suggested a calendar. Focusing on real bodies, all sizes, all shapes, to show just how fucking beautiful they all were.

And they wanted John to model for them.

He laughed, full and throaty when they told him. "Me? They fuck you want me for?"

Helen had smirked at him and shrugged. "Lord knows why John, but some people think you're cute. And you're a born leader. If people see you're involved, we'll get more volunteers. And we need 'em. This won't solve even close to one of our problems, but it's a quick and easy cash injection that we need."

And how could he argue with that? So he agreed and signed what he needed to sign and Helen slipped a card over the desk.

"That's the name, address, and number of the photographer. You'll meet him tomorrow, 10am sharp. No photographs; just a get-to-know-you, you know?"

John looked down at the card.

Gale Cleven.

The Bunk House.

Thorpe Abbots Studios.

#mota #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #buck x bucky #headcanon #alternate universe #masters of the air

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fulgurbugs · 5 months

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OT 1 & 2 headcanons? Doesn't have to be about the main parties, whatever goes.

ok ok here we go, gonna use yours as the OT2 HC ask bestie

gonna throw up here an OT2 spoilers warning cuz of endgame stuff

First some throné ones because i have throné on the brain.

first off i think after her story is over she never wears a necklace like basically ever again. she does love dressing up, feeling cute, but no matter how well a necklace would go with her outfit she won’t add one. it’s just part of her newfound freedom that she can choose never to have anything around her neck like that ever again. all other jewelry tho… she’s got a lot of options to pick from for earrings, bracelets, and rings etc (that she’s most certainly not paid for)

also, i feel like Hikari and Throné, after everything with vide coming to the conclusion that they are actually distantly related to each other, have some kind of exchange where it’s like. “ok wait so im your like great great how many greats aunt or something” uhhh like a couple times removed or whatever. and at first its like weird to think about but they both have such like. idk. throne found out that her family was actually huge and extensive, and all of them were killing each other. her biological father is a monster. she was born to be a monster herself. her relationship with the concept of “family” is extremely strange; the man she considered closest to her actual father was a horribly abusive person but despite all that she was the closest thing he had, and he was her half-brother. Hikari’s family has a curse upon it directly related to being descended from D’arquest, and it’s been nothing but pain for him as well, causing him to lose control of himself, constantly worried he’ll hurt the people he cares about. his brother was a monster in a whole different way, and his dad, while appointing him rightful successor, spent most of his life as a warmonger as well. His mother is dead. his brother and father are dead. he’s lost ritsu, who at one point was like a brother to him. his own relationship with the idea of his family is not… good, in any case. i think they come to find some sort of solace in each other in that, after realizing they’re actually related. they’ve already come to travel with each other and trust each other… i like to think they decide they should just hand wave all the technicalities of how distantly they’re related and how weird the family tree would look and just go with a catch all “we’re cousins” or something.

Castti, while getting her memories back about what happened immediately prior to the events of the game, still struggles with remembering most of her life. it’s not something she really fully recovers from. she never remembers the faces of her parents, or if she had any siblings, her childhood, things like that. sometimes when she gets a flash of something, a glimmer of a skill she had no idea she was well-practiced in, or a remembered fact she can’t recall where she read it, she still finds herself troubled. she basically has to re-invent herself. still, she gets by with a quiet determination to always do right, with the knowledge that she at the very least, knows who she is now, in the present.

ok sillay ones….

Post game partitio starts picking up the guitar. i like to think once he gets good enough he records a song with agnea for the gramophone :P. also, temenos used to play the piano, but he’s out of practice (that one cleric in flamechurch is much better and actually wants to play it much more). he could pick it up again tho with a little practice

oh also ochette is a chronic unpeeled fruit mucher. she’ll just straight up bite into an orange and be like. “i see why some people don’t like the crust but i don’t mind it.” castti and osvald tails gets trolled face

#octopath #octopath traveler 2 spoilers

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jpriest85-blog · 4 months

Text

Put together a collage of my Werewolf MC Hala from @barbwritesstuff Bloodmoon and decided to include some additional info and hedcanons about her.

Name: Hala bint Badr

Pronouns:she/her

Height: 5ft.5”/165.1cms

Appearance: An average height Arab woman with a tan complexion, dark brown curly hair, hazel eyes, aquiline nose and medium build. Hala is often seen wearing layered clothes, homemade jewelry, and a headscarf or hijab, usually in red.

Wolf form: Resembles an Arabian wolf with dark, brown fur, that’s darker on her back and tail tip, and lighter beige on her stomach, ears and muzzle. Hala is smaller than her packmates, with larger ears, and a shorter thinner coat.

Conviction: Be Kind

LI: Marco

Alpha: Aliksander, deceased. Hala, current.

Misc. Info & Headcanons

Hala’s name means halo around the moon in Arabic, and her surname means daughter of the full moon.

Her mother’s name was Sama which means sky in Arabic.

Sama’s pack originally came from a desert climate but like most werewolf packs they had to move to safer territories in other countries.

Hala’s mother never saw the ocean in person until her late teens, and she learned to swim from Jay during their brief romance. Sama later taught Hala how to swim as a way to pass on something from Jay to their daughter, other than his eye color.

Hala has a caffeine dependency but prefers tea. After moving to the city Ed introduced her to boba tea and she got hooked.

Hala prefers not to drink alcohol due to disliking the taste. As a result Hala and Farro usually wind up as designated drivers whenever their packs meet up.

Hala is prone to getting cold easily even in her wolf form. So she often dresses in layers and/or will cuddle with pack members for warmth.

Hala and her mom used to spend a lot of time in public libraries when they used to travel. They had free textbooks and resources to help with Hala’s education, and the nicer ones even offered free classes or activities for people.

Hala learned to make jewelry at one of those libraries and even used to sell the things she made with her mom. After joining the pack Ed helps Hala sell her jewelry online, but she still gives out jewelry for friends and loved ones for free as gifts. As a result every member of the pack owns at least one piece of jewelry or customized accessories made by Hala.

Hala also does little arts and crafts projects with the kids when she is on babysitting duty. This instantly made Hala Izzy’s favorite person when Hala made her a tiara from an old wire hanger, some beads, and glitter.

As far as Hala’s own jewelry preferences go she tends to wear clip-on earrings, usually made of copper or nickel.

Hala’s mother used to own some gold bracelets from the old country that were originally going to be passed down to Hala as a bridal gift if she found a mate. After their pack died though Sama wound up pawning the gold bracelets to support herself and Hala.

Back when Hala was still a stray she used to go out in deep water to swim on nights when there is the full moon, that way she was less likely to hurt someone late at night in the middle of the ocean or lake. Worst case scenario she might swim too far from the shore, wind up exhausting herself and drown. Hala figured that was a better risk than giving into the moon and killing someone, the Alpha and Minjo however did not agree. They were both very distressed at how casually Hala explained that she first wound up in their pack’s territory because she got lost looking for a body of water deep enough to potentially drown herself.

Hala still keeps her mother’s seashell necklace and wears it constantly. Jay made the necklace for Sama as a gift after their first date taking her on his bike to the coastline.

Hala learned how to apply jacket patches from Addie and Elma.

Hala’s favorite jacket is a denim and fleece jacket that used to belong to Marco. He gave it to her shortly after she first joined the pack when he noticed she’s more sensitive to the cold, and told her to keep it because she looked cuter wearing it. She started developing a crush on Marco after that and added rose patches to the sleeves so she could always be reminded of Marco when she wears it.

While Hala didn’t become as close with Vicky as she did with Ed. She always respected and admired Vicky. Sure they don’t alway agree on things but Hala understands that sometimes you have to make the hard decisions, especially since Vicky had to become another parent for Ed growing up when she was still a kid herself. After becoming the Alpha Hala knows she can trust Vicky explicitly to keep the pack safe, but she’s also trying to make Vicky understand she can also depend on Hala and the others to help protect and look after her too.

After becoming the Alpha Hala takes different jobs and learns new skills to help the pack and their new home. She starts working at a craft store so the pack gets discounts on everything from school suplies to fabrics. She becomes a certified notary to help the pack when they need to verify important documents and paperwork. She even undergoes training in her wolf form to become a registered therapy dog.

Likewise Hala tries to encourage and support her pack members with whatever they need. Like helping take care of Minjo’s kids if she eventually decides to complete her training to become an official registered nurse.

#bloodmoon if #oc collage #werewolf mc hala #oc info

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thatsgay-writes · 2 years

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Title 🤷🏻

(Got this idea while working on another fic)

“Mary!” You yell as you watch her rush towards all the possessed civilians. Everything had been going downhill these past couple of weeks. First Sister Shannon had been murder by none other than Father Vincent, the halo was then put into a random person, and now what they thought was a tomb turned out to just be a cage for a powerful demon(?). No hate to Ava though, you actually thought she was pretty cool when she wasn’t running away from what she was given. You look away from the scene of Mary getting dog piled by the possessed and towards Beatrice. “You got to get Ava out of here and regroup with Mother Superion, hopefully she’ll have an idea of what to do.” “Don’t you mean we.” Beatrice responded looking at you, her eyes filled with worry at your wording. You give her a small sad smile before resting a hand on her cheek. “I’ll find you, okay?” You don’t let her respond and rush towards Mary and the possessed. “Y/n!”

Two Months Later

The past couple of months had been difficult to say the least, you think as you move fast in between people in the street. Adriel had come out and proclaimed his self as a prophet and has even made “miracles” happen. You check over your shoulder to see if you were still being followed. Since his introduction, he is growing a steady amount of believers/cultists, the Firstborn Children. Which is who you were running from at this very moment. Well running is a bit generous, speeding walking is a better term. You had yet been able to build your stamina back up to what it was before that dreadful day. Not only had you been unsuccessful in retrieving Mary from that pile of possessed but you also lost your arm, well forearm, everything after your elbow on your left arm was gone. You could only hope and pray that Mary was able to escape somehow as well. It had been a learning curve to say the least once you got out of the hospital after a week. Things you would usually have no problem doing were harder than they should be, like shooting a gun or fighting with your sword and shield, which now was just a sword since you are unable to hold a shield. You spent a good part of the past two months in a safe house in Rome that only you and Mary knew of.

Relearning some skills that you knew you were going to need in the very near future and waiting for any sort of message to come through on the cross necklace you had that connected to all of the OCP. It was times like these you wished you had paid more attention to the lesson that Mother Superion was teaching rather than staring at Beatrice so that you knew how to send a message on the cross. Luckily you knew how to read the code but you still wish there was someway to let everyone know you were okay. Especially Beatrice, beautiful, strong, resilient, and badass Beatrice… Your Beatrice. Your heart hurt thinking about how you would feel if you were in her position. The two of you had been together for 3 years, unknown to the other nuns, and the only other time you had ever been away from each other for this long was when you had a mission down in Madrid for 3 months. At least then you had communication, now it was just you alone with your thoughts.

———

Ava watched concerned from the bar as Bea was approached by a rather beautiful woman. She better not be trying to hit on Beatrice, is all Ava can think as she watches the woman grab onto Bea’s arm as the two share a small smile. Ava wanted to jump over the counter the second the unknown woman said something that makes Bea laugh and tell her that Bea is happily taken and that if you were here right now she’d be dealt with. Well, dealt with sounds extreme, the woman would be told in a nice and forgiving manner that was she was doing was not okay. Ava mentally applauds herself for knowing what you would actually do in this situation and that you would also tell her to not have these over protective thoughts for Beatrice because she could handle herself. But it was hard not to be over protective of Bea, it was hard for the first month to act like she didn’t hear Bea cry herself to sleep from worry when she thought Ava was already asleep. It was hard to watch her sometimes zone out and return with a sad look on her face, it was hard for Ava to watch as Bea mourned you after what had happened two months ago. Bea was being logical, there was a small chance that you and Mary had made it out alive from Adriel but that small chance is what Ava held onto. Even though there had been no word from you or Mary, there also hasn’t been any bad news and that’s one of the things that kept Ava going because if she was honest you and Beatrice were her best friends and with one missing and the other one sad almost all the time it was hard for her to continue hoping that they could find a way to beat Adriel.

The message had come in hours later, luckily for Ava and Bea it was perfect timing as Ava had just revealed herself to some of the Samaritans and Miguel. Ava watched as Beatrice read the flashing lights with bated breaths. Finally it was time for some action. “We’re going to Madrid.” Bea said finally and Ava jumped up from the couch ready to help with the packing that she had been watching Bea do this whole time. “Hold on there’s another message.” Ava turns back towards Bea and watches as her face turns from one of concentration to complete devastation. “Bea?” Ava asks as she gets closer to the girl and kneels in front of her. “It’s only three words.” Beatrice responds with a shaky breath as she allows tears to start falling from her eyes. “We’ve lost Mary.” At that, Ava feels any hope she had that you were okay vanish. She clutched onto Beatrice tight as they both allowed sobs to rack through their bodies. Ava’s heart hurts more at the thought that you were probably gone as well and that maybe Beatrice was right to let herself mourn these past two months.

———

You step into the flower shop slowly as you take in the trashed scene before you. What had happened since you were gone? You wonder as you look at the light covering of dust on a nearby table. There isn’t any way Mother Superion or any other nun were still here. You look around for anything that could point you to another meeting place and find a literal arrow in some dirt pointing towards a wall statue. You walk towards the wall and find a pair of tickets, you grab one and leave the other for whoever else is out there before heading out.

———

Ava and Beatrice stumble behind Camila as she leads them through the theatre and to a hidden room below. "This use to be a cover for resistance fighters during the civil war." Camila told the two as they walked in before being greeted by Mother Superion. You watch from behind a corner as she introduces them to Yasmine and you feel like a failure. How could you go from fighting demons to being scared to see one of your best friends and girlfriend, if you could even use that title anymore, it had been two months. They walk into another room to see the book Yasmine had all her information in and you follow quietly behind them, working up the courage to just say hi before Mother Superion forced you to come out of hiding.

"Muesem heist." You hear Ava say and you feel excited for a second because that did sound fun, until you hear Mother Superion and immediatly you feel scared again. "Before we go, there is one more thing I need to show you." She says towards Beatrice and Ava, who both wear a confused expression as Camila lets out a squeal and claps her hands together. "You will love it." Beatrice and Ava both share a nervous smile as Mother Supreion walks to the door and wraps the end of her cane around you arm and pulls you into the room.

You stare nervously at two of the four people in front of you. Ava's face gained a smile so big, you were sure it was causing discomfort, while Beatrice on the other hand looked frozen with her face void of emotion. "Y/n!" Ava says loudly and happily as she rushes in to give you a hug. "See I knew you would be okay! I told Beatrice that you would be fine and now..." Ava trails off as she turns to look at Beatrice who is still frozen. You can see Camila give her a nudge to push her towards you. "I must still be feeling the affects of that tranquilizer dart." Is all Beatrice says as she puts a hand to her forehead like she was checking her temperature. You knew you were going to have to be the first one to take a step. "Bea, it's me. I'm here and I am sorry it has taken me so long to get back to you." You tell her as you untangle yourself from Ava's hug and walk towards her, feeling tears well up in your eyes just from finally seeing her after two months of uncertainty and fear. All you really need and want was a form of comfort from her, a hug, a kiss, whatever. Just something to ground you after these past months.

You place a hand on Beatrice's face, who has still not moved an inch, and almost cry when you feel the warmth of her skin. "I missed you so much." You say letting a sob slip past your lips and that's all it took for Beatrice to pull you into the tightest hug you've ever felt. "You're really here, you're really here." You hear her repeat to herself as she tries to squeeze herself as close to you as possible, company be damned. "When we got the message about Mary, I thought all hope was lost, I didn't know what to do, I didn't-" Beatrice pulls back from the hug some, making sure her arms stayed wrapped around you, only to see you staring at her with complete adoration and love. Her breath catches in her throat and she does and says the only thing she can think of.

"I love you." Followed by a deep and barely publicly acceptable kiss. "So, so much." She continues as she pulls back. A squeal from Camila, or Ava, you couldn't tell who as they were both standing next to each other with large smiles on their faces. Pulls Beatrice back into the present and she finally remembers that there were in fact others in the room and Mother Superion, who just witnessed that whole display of affection. "Oh no." Beatrice mumbles as she buries her face in you shoulder, embarrassed by the proud mom smile she saw resting on Mother Superion's face. "Don't we have other important matter to attend to?" Beatrice says as she finally controls herself and puts herself back into the mission oriented mindset that she's usually in. "Starting with the fact that you are missing part of your arm. Who did this and where can I find them." You feel yourself blush from the seriousness of her questions and the determination in her voice that shows that she would cause some serious hell to whoever did this, making any nerves you had about the missing appendage disappear. You give her a kiss on the cheek, causing her façade to slightly break, "Your so cute when you get protective over me."

-----

Bonus:

Y/n: "Your so cute when you get protective over me."

Ava: *gags* Oh no, this is gonna happen all the time now isn't it.

Camila: Shhhhh, I've been waiting for this. I knew I was right all along.

Word Count: 2,070ish

#warrior nun #x reader #sister beatrice #Beatrice x reader

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emerson-grimes-apologist · 5 months

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Is it me or do I think (or theorize) that almost all the women in candle cove are all a reminder or ATLEAST symbolize Janice's girlhood, or just anything relating struggles about being a woman. Mostly because of their roles and personality and such, especially in a male-dominated world and practices such as piracy.

You got Janice, who is pretty much a typical girl, who is the embodiment of innocence, curiosity and guilt (for something she did not mean to do as in her mom died giving birth to her) and who is traumatized from her sister, Melrose. Melrose is GREIVING because of a female parental figure being lost in her life. She could be an embodiment of impulse since her only hobby is bullying Janice without thinking "would this hurt her feelings?". She is confident in doing this to her thinking it would make everything better, but it didn't, it only made everything worse for her and Janice.

Now Mary, is an embodiment of rage, and hate itself. She is an intrusive thought of feminine urge. Only burning people because she feels like it, and using techniques to get her way (such as putting on an act as a nice person, saving lillian so she would be more believable) and then throwing it all out so she can betray the crew. It's more like a "I'm just a girl" thing

Sariah is an embodiment of innocence being lost, and the stereotypical things people say about women, (she's naive, innocent, wears pink, falls head over heels to men like milo). When Milo killed her she lost all that stuff and grieved over someone who loved her and killed her only for him to get killed by the Skin-taker.

Lillian represents motherhood, due to how she comforts thade after thade was hesitant joining her crew because his previous crew was harsh. She has a mother-like personality and protected Auburn from Mary, which is typical mother things.

Auburn is the embodiment of free will and justice. Who sees the world being unfair, and is a caring soul. She is trying to receive justice, like many wronged women try to receive it.

Sunny, I cannot think what she embodies but it's mostly how she is the OPPOSITE of what men perceived women at the time. She's vicious, she's tomboyish and the only member in a crew which has mostly men in it. She has been seen equal by the crew because she orders the crew around when Horace is asleep or drunk, but that is because they never knew she's a woman because Horace refers to her as "he". If she did say she was a women, the crew would throw her off or even kill her, since back then people thought women were bad luck on ships.

Susan siren is an embodiment of how men want women to be and look. She's beautiful, long haired She's barely wearing clothes, she's flirtatious. She is chained to a rock and that only shows women cannot escape from men's standards, even if they are the exact opposite without getting sexualized.

Laughingstock is the embodiment of leadership, and always has the final say in things. She keeps trying to tell Percy to go inside caves and stuff. Even if Percy refuses.

Mrs skin-taker is also an embodiment of how men see married wives as. (Nagging housewives) The reason for this is because she wanted to divorce Skin-Taker all because "he's changed". She also had a stereotypical things associated with housewives (thick lips, and a necklace)

So yea I hope this makes sense and English isn't my first language 😭😭 I just like theorizing little things and maybe I'm obsessed with symbolism

AGH, I was so excited when I came home to this ask!! I made some tea and sat down and read this like I’d read a chapter of a favorite book.

It’s really great to see other people into symbolism and media analysis. It’s not something I see often in fandom spaces even though analyzing media deeply like this is really fun, and I can’t be the only one who thinks so. (Well, the only one besides you, Anon.)

This ask has really stirred my brain, so I may have… written a whole essay in response. Heh. (Sorry for taking a while to respond by the way, I wanted to make sure what I wrote made sense.)

I feel like as Janice is growing up and “growing into a young woman” as people say, she would be observing the women around her and learning about the different ways to be a woman. Janice is 9, and it’s around that age when kids really start to form their identities, so it would make sense.

Also, I think being thrown into Candle Cove and the world of pirates, where there’s mostly men, would make her feel like being a girl makes her different, and as the adage goes, identity is formed by finding ways you’re different from other people. So I think coming to Candle Cove and being surrounded by men would solidify her identity as a girl, and lead her to observe and imitate the women around her even more.

Also, a lot of people theorize that Candle Cove is all in Janice’s imagination and by extension, all the characters from Candle Cove represent some aspect of her psyche, which would make this make even more sense. Like, each of the women in Candle Cove could represent a woman (or type of woman) Janice looks up to for guidance.

JANICE

Janice does embody guilt, and I think specifically how women are made to bear the guilt for things that aren’t their fault. Janice is blamed for her mother’s death, but what was she supposed to do? Not get born? And she was a literal NEWBORN BABY—the most innocent a person can be—and is still blamed for something as serious as killing someone. Not to mention that she’s a victim in this situation, too, having never known her mother. But the people around her don’t seem to care.

MELROSE

This might be a reach, but I think she may also represent women who side with men against other women. I’m applying my headcanons to make this work, but what if Melrose learned to bully Janice by watching how her father acts around her? We already know Mr. Stewart is… well, not a very good parent, based on how he doesn’t seem to do anything about Melrose harassing Janice. So it wouldn’t be a reach to say he’s also not a very good parent in other ways. Maybe he’s cold and dismissive towards Janice, bitter because she’s the reason (in his perspective) that his wife died and he’s left to take care of two daughters by himself. And Melrose, as children do, could have learned her behavior from him, bullying Janice because she thinks that's what her father wants her to do. And it’s worse because Melrose is somebody Janice is supposed to have solidarity with, as her sister, and yet she treats her so poorly. It reminds me of how in real life, women put each other down for male validation instead of having solidarity with one another.

RED MARY

She does definitely embody female rage, but I feel like she could also embody women who perform traditional feminine roles to get ahead in life. Like, women are often pressured into being docile and accommodating or else be shamed and called bitches (whereas men doing the same things wouldn’t be shamed and instead even be praised for taking initiative). So women are forced to fit themselves into this docile female role if they want people to like them and to get what they want.

Red isn’t traditionally feminine. She isn’t kind. She isn’t docile. She isn’t nurturing. In fact, she’s the opposite of nurturing—she kills people and draws out their suffering. But she pretended to be all these things when she was with the Tarantula Crew because they wouldn’t take to her otherwise. Like you said, she saved the crew in the past to earn their trust, which obviously isn’t something she would do out of the kindness of her heart. It isn’t made known why she wanted to be with the crew, but whatever the reason was, she didn’t need to be with them anymore at the end of Come and Rip, and so then she was able to be her true self and let go of the act.

SARIAH

I agree with what you said about Sariah representing innocence being lost. She’s naive and probably has an unrealistic, romanticized view on dating men. She was in love with Milo, but in the end, Milo only used her to get something else (Skin-Taker’s trust). It reminds me of how in real life, men often start relationships with women (and take advantage of their naivete) mostly because they want to use them for something else, like sex or free housework.

I also think maybe she represents women who are “props.” Women who have no significance (at least seemingly) other than their relationships with men. A good percentage of female characters in 1970s media fell into this role, so this would be another female role Janice would know of.

Sariah is not portrayed as having any depth. All we know about her is that she’s pretty and has 2 personality traits. She can and probably does have more to her personality, but the audience doesn’t need to know any more because the only thing that’s important about her is her relationship with Milo. He’s the one who matters—she’s just there to support and define him.

And this is something that I realized recently, but the wiki doesn’t actually say Sariah is Milo’s girlfriend. She’s only ever called his “love interest” or “the girl he likes,” which is more vague. She could very well have no relationship with Milo at all. And that’s so much WORSE to me because she could have zero interest in Milo, and yet her whole identity and her whole life (all the way to her death) is defined by him just because she was unfortunate enough to be the object of his attraction. She was doomed by the narrative to be a background character in his story no matter what she did.

LILLIAN

I don’t really have anything to add here. Lillian is obviously motherly. Like you explained, she’s comforting and protective. She’s also sensitive to others’ emotions, which is also a trait mothers are expected to have. Also, I didn’t notice this until now, but Lillian is the only character in Candle Cove who is a mother (unless you count Janice’s mother). So it checks out all around.

AUBURN

I don’t really have anything to add here either, BUT I’m gonna take this opportunity to talk about something that I find interesting:

Auburn is a little girl, and Boar is a grown and capable adult. And yet it’s Auburn who swears to kill Red Mary and avenge Lillian. Boar just tells Auburn that it’s impossible to kill her and leaves right after. Also, bear in mind that Boar and Lillian are described as “very close friends,” so it’s not like he has no reason to feel just as upset and vindictive as Auburn does. Anyway, I think this scene goes to show how intense Auburn is. She, a young and incapable girl, swears on her mother’s grave to do something impossible (kill an Abyssian), even when the adult, the more capable one, just shrugs his shoulders. Like, if Boar sees no point in trying to avenge Lillian, then it really shows Auburn’s vindictiveness that she’s dead set on it, even though she’s weaker compared to him.

SUNNY

I think Sunny represents women who present less femininely in order to be taken seriously. There are women like Red Mary who get their way by following the feminine role of being docile and obedient to curry favor from people, and then there are women who do the opposite: acting masculinely so that people will think they’re owed the same level of respect as men.

This is taken to the extreme with Sunny, who I think deliberately disguises herself as a man. The wiki makes it sound as though the Rubber Fishes simply don’t notice that she’s a woman, but I’m doubtful of that. Not only is she tomboyish—she doesn’t have any overtly feminine traits. She’s bald. She wears androgynous clothes. And yes, she could just be gender-nonconforming, BUT the wiki mentions that she has a feminine-sounding voice, but rarely talks. This leads me to think she keeps quiet deliberately in order to hide her voice, and hide her being a woman. And also, if this is deliberate, that the other ways she presents as masculine are also deliberate. My other support is that female pirates in history, like Anne Bonny and Mary Read, had to disguise themselves as men in order to be accepted by their pirate crews, so her crew thinking she’s a man could have been inspired by that.

While there aren’t many modern-day situations of women literally needing to pretend to be men to get ahead, less feminine women are seen as more deserving of respect than feminine women. For example, when women want to be taken seriously, common advice that’s given to them is along the lines of “Don’t wear so much makeup” or “Carry a briefcase instead of a purse.” There’s also the phenomenon of women saying they’re “not like other girls” as a way to BRAG, because according to them, not being interested in makeup or clothes or other feminine things make them better and more deserving of respect.

All that aside, I personally like to think that Sunny is just GNC by choice and that the Rubber Fishes would accept her all the same if they knew she was a woman, but I still think this interpretation is interesting.

SUSAN

The way you said that women are sexualized no matter what interests me because sirens as mythological creatures got sexualized. Listen: in Ancient Greek literature, they were these frightening bird-women who tempted people by offering to reveal secret knowledge to them, drawing them in by singing and playing instruments. Then in the Middle Ages, their unique traits were removed—no frightening looks, no arcane knowledge, no playing instruments, even—so that they could become these unoriginal, conventionally attractive mermaid/succubus-esque creatures that seduced sailors to kill them. Unsurprisingly, this is the interpretation that stuck. (Does anyone know of that image of some Overwatch character or whatever before and after she was “un-Tumblrized”? It’s exactly like that to me.)

Yeah, so as Janice is growing up, she’s probably being exposed to magazines and TV shows and what-have-you where most of the women are half-naked and doe-eyed and not serving any purpose in their media other than to look pretty, especially bearing in mind that Candle Cove takes place in the ‘70s, where women’s representation in media was even worse. So Susan represents that role for women—the sex object. Which is also, like you said, the way society wants women to be.

Susan isn’t reduced to being a sex object, though. She has an active role in the story, luring a ship to save the Laughingstocks. And heck, she’s actually very powerful, having almost sunk a whole fleet of ships in the past. It’s interesting, though, that her source of power (her singing), like everything else about her, is beautiful. It reminds me that no matter what they do, even if they have agency, society expects women to be beautiful and able to be sexualized as they’re doing it. Able to be turned into the mere sex objects that society wants them to be.

Also, the way that you said that her being chained represents how she’s trapped by men’s standards got me thinking…. Her clothes are basically lingerie, but what’s interesting to me is that they’re made of chains. This leads me to think that they’re not her own clothes, but clothes she’s forced to wear as a prisoner. Stripping people was (and still is) a common form of punishment, so it would make sense. And I sense some symbolism here too, with her clothes being made out of chains. Like, women are chained by society’s standard to be sexy. Pressured to wear revealing clothes or else be shamed and called a prude. Basically, she’s trapped, literally because she’s chained to the rock, and figuratively because society pressures her to be a sex object.

And one last point while I’m here: Even when she’s imprisoned, she continues to have perfect hair and doe eyes and revealing clothes. It reminds me of how, even in suffering and oppression, women are still expected by society to be pretty. (Does anyone know of that old trend on TikTok where women did makeup to make themselves look like they’ve been crying? Not as special effects makeup, but regular makeup to wear to look pretty? And think about how, even though crying realistically involves being puffy and having snot all over your face, this trend implies that women crying is seen as (and expected to be) beautiful by society? That’s one example.)

THE LAUGHINGSTOCK

@mewpirate posted a screenshot from the wiki that said something like, “the creators explained that Ms. Laughingstock isn’t supposed to represent a mother, but a boss,” so I think what you’re saying is actually canon. The wiki does say, now, that she considers herself to be Janice’s “substitute parent,” but still, I see her as a mother in a “head of the household” sense, not so much a “nurturer” sense. She orders people around (mostly Percy), like you said, and also briefs the audience at the beginning of each episode explaining what the characters do in that episode.

MRS. SKIN-TAKER

Mrs. Skin-Taker definitely seems like a housewife viewed from the perspective of her husband. She doesn’t do anything but nag, as if she’s an exaggeration created in her husband’s mind. Like, men get so pissy about their wives complaining now and again (instead of sitting quietly as women are supposed to /s) that they come to only see them as nags. She also kind of reminds me of how wives are portrayed in '70s sitcoms (written by men), so this could be where Janice learned this role from.

And also, she doesn’t have anything to her character other than being Skin-Taker’s wife. She’s basically a gender-swapped version of him. She doesn’t even have her own name—she’s just “Mrs. Skin-Taker.” She’s like his appendage, not an individual person. Although this may be justified, seeing that she was just a throwaway character for one episode and so wouldn’t be very fleshed-out.

You know, I often like to imagine that there isn’t any historically accurate misogyny in Candle Cove, and I didn’t think there was any historically accurate misogyny in Candle Cove based on what the wiki said, but… after reading your ask and then writing about it, I think maybe the creators of the wiki created it with the misogyny of the times in mind? Because a lot of these women seem like they were written a certain way because they’re a woman in the Golden Age of Piracy (like with Sunny needing to disguise herself as a man) or that they were written a certain way because they’re a female character in 1970s television (like with Sariah and Mrs. Skin-Taker being flat and only there to support the male characters).

On one hand, I like to think of Candle Cove as an escapist utopia where misogyny doesn’t exist, but on the other hand, I do like feminist themes in media and to use media to explore the struggles of being a woman. So I have mixed feelings about this, but all in all, it’s really interesting to think about. Media analysis is fun!!

Also, I feel like I should say thank you for reading this whole thing. Here, have some food to regain your energy with: 🍊🍎🥐��🥓🍳🍪☕🍫

#women of candle cove my beloved #i love you women of candle cove #candle cove #janice #melrose #red mary #sariah #lillian #auburn #sunny #susan siren #the laughingstock #mrs. skin-taker #asks #analysis #the fact that this is 9 pages long in times new roman size 12 font double spaced...#(to clarify i DID NOT write this in times new roman size 12 font double spaced like a masochist.#i was just curious to see how long this would have been if this was a literal essay so i ctrl+a’d it)

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