#Cherie mwen

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 1-Black Penny

Summary: You grew up in the hustle and bustle of a city most of your life, so you packed your few belongings and headed straight to New Orleans. You hoped to live a simpler, quieter life on the Historic French Quarter. By day during the week, you helped manage Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo Shop and by nightfall you tended bar at Black Penny on the weekends.

You were aware mutants existed, and believed them to be just as ordinary as you but only with extraordinary abilities. After living a few years in NOLA, you had a knack of picking them out in a crowd and treated them no differently than you’d treat anyone else. You had many run in’s with mutants on Bourbon Street, but none as impactful as the day you ran into Remy LeBeau.

A/N: Character Intro, She/Her Pronouns, GambitX!FemaleReader, GambitX!NonMutant, RemyLeBeauX!FemaleReader, Mutants, Post Deadpool and Wolverine, Post Void, New Orleans, Alcohol, Pining, Creole/French to English Translation

(c) - Creole

(f)- French

*I just want to disclose I am not a comic expert. Gambit/Remy LeBeau is very new to me and I’m doing my best to stay genuine to what I’ve researched online or from what I’ve seen in the D&W movie. I’m aware there was a HUGE controversy over his heavy accent/dialect and over his eye color in the movie, so I tried to incorporate both versions of each in my stories to satisfy everyone’s preferred Gambit/Remy style. (Personally, I loved Channing Tatum’s accent in the movie ☺️) I’m also cognizant that Gambit and Rogue are an item in the comics, but for sanity sake, Rogue will be a pastime only mentioned in passing if absolutely necessary so I don’t have to study in depth another character I’m unfamiliar with. (I need some brain space for real life stuff, too 😅) Anyway, I’m doing my maximum effort over here writing for Gambit/Remy, so when I do post my developing Gambit story, please, if you have comments or criticisms that don’t benefit anyone else’s appreciation of these fanfics, keep them to yourself and let the rest of us enjoy it. Thanks so much*

♠️♥️♣️♦️

It was a particularly busy night at Black Penny. As live bounce music and jazz blared from the stage, patrons dance and socialize carelessly with each other while you hotfoot from one end of the bar to the other serving up shots and beers.

You approach a man waiting patiently, his face downward hovering over a stack of playing cards.

“What can I getchya?” You ask him.

He began twirling an ace of spades between his fingers.

“(c) Kisa mwen ka jwenn pou ou?” You repeat.

The man lifted his gaze to meet yours with a mischievous grin stretching across his face. An eerie magenta glow softly radiated from his irises causing your jaw to drop. Your stunned reaction spurred him, causing his smile to widen and his eyes to glow brighter as the whites of his eyes began to blacken.

“….woah.” You say under your breath.

The man chuckled, “(c) Ou dwe padone Gambit, cheri (You must pardon Gambit). When his eyes see somethin’ so (f)dulcet (beautiful), it be hard to hide it.”

You shook your head to refocus, “No need to apologize. This is a safe space for everyone. Just caught me off guard is all.”

You flash him a smile and a wink as he returned one to you, the whites of his eyes returning to ‘human’ version of normal and his irises became a shade of icy green.

“Nobody be lookin’ at me like dat wit’out runnin’ off. You weren’t scared?”

“Of course not. Takes a lot more than a pair of flashy eyes on a handsome face to scare me away.” You state.

He laughed as he adjusted in his seat.

“Dats good, dats good.” He said as he leaned forward on the surface of the bar.

“What are you drinking, Gambit?” You ask again.

��Sazerac. (c) Mèsi, cheri. (Thank you, darling).”

You bring the gentleman a rocks glass fixed neat with the amber-red reserve bourbon. He gingerly raised the glass to his nose, inhaling the oak wood barrel scent with hints of cherry, caramel, apples, and tobacco.

He hummed with satisfaction, “(c) Manyifik (Magnificent).”

You nod, then turn to walk away.

“Remy.” You hear him call to you.

“Pardon?” You say as you turn back to him.

“The name’s Remy LaBeau.” He reiterated cooly after taking a sip from his glass.

He averted his eyes to you, awaiting your name. You grin back.

“Y/F/N.”

“(c) Kontan rankontre ou, Y/F/N (Pleased to meet you).”

You feel your face go red as you laugh nervously.

“Same.” You managed to say before scurrying to the other end of the bar to wait on other customers.

♠️♥️♣️♦️

Remy sat quietly in his spot at the bar the entire evening, only ever looking up from his deck of Mavericks to catch a glance of you as you pass him. The crowd started to thin out as last call was announced.

“One for the road, Remy?”

He beamed at you, “Oui, cheri. If you join me for one.”

You smile coyly, “I gotta close up, chief. How about this; I’ll bring you another Sazerac on the house, and I’ll take a rain check?”

You see the magenta glimmer in his eyes again.

“I like the soun’ of dat, cheri.”

You smile and nod then turn to the counter behind you to prepare his drink. You set it in front of him as he placed a $100 in front of you.

“You only had two. That’s too much.”

“(c) Pran li (Take it). For your generosity an’ da company.” Remy insisted.

You beam at him, “(c) Ou twò janti (You’re too kind).”

He stood up from his stool, and fixed his collar on his leather trench.

“Until next time, mon cher.” He said smiling while standing tall opposite you.

“Orevwa, Remy. I’ll see you around.” You reply sweetly as you feel your cheeks heat up again.

“(c) Mwen pwomèt ou pral (I promise you will).” He purred in his heavy honeyed Cajun accent.

He bowed, then turned on his heel to exit the bar. You released a deep exhale as if you hadn’t taken a breath since having met him that night.

♠️♥️♣️♦️

*I know this was a short one and I plan on a chapter 2. I’m just dipping my toe in the water here to see what feedback I get* 🥰

[sideeve]

Can you write an fic about E 42 Miles and Haitian reader and can you make her speak a little creole like cheri or cheri dodo Idk if you use Google translate

EARTH42!MILES MORALES x HAITIAN!READER

please let me know if there is something wrong or offensive in any way, shape, or form. i am not haitian.

when miles was told he was eating at your place, he was thinking like spaghetti or something.

instead, he was hit with flavors he never even thought of tasting.

miles eyed the bowl in front of him. he wasn’t disgusted, don’t be mistaken. he was surprised. he wasn’t really shown other cultures except for his.

“baby, if you don’t want to eat i can make something else.” you make a false offer, taking the bowl away from him. you really wanted him to at least get a little taste of it.

“no, mami. i’m going to try it.” he lifts the spoon from the table, digging it in the dish and bringing it to his lips. you stared at him hard, looking for a bad reaction.

instead, he smiled. “damn, mami. this is good.” he takes a couple more spoonfuls before praising the dish.

you were sat in miles’ lap.

he had asked for you teach him some creole. you knew that this would be a bad idea.

he wouldn’t stop talking to you in creole once he mastered it.

“so repeat what i say. ‘bonjou, non mwen se miles moral’.” “bonjou, non mwen se miles moral.” you smile. “good.” “what did i just say?” he arches a brow. “ ‘hello, my names is miles morales.” he chuckles. “so when do i get to learn cuss words or ‘i love you’?” he smirks. “nan rèv ou, dous.”

[stormyelliotwritez]

long term relationship with gambit but just on a cute domestic fluffy date.. maybe picnic… flowers and shit.. hes so cute and silly i love my girlfriend remy 🦕

OH MY GOD PRETTY BOY TIME

fair warning: i don’t know how to speak french or cajun or what its called so it’ll be kinda ooc maybe

PICNIC TIME

You and Remy had been dating for ages but you didn’t go on many dates due to life and everything that seemed to follow mutants. So when he suggested a picnic date, you jumped at the opportunity to have a picnic and just be his boyfriend for once.

“Come on, bél ti gason,” he said with a smile as he walked you up the hill. He was holding his hands over your eyes and when he stopped walking, he took his hands off your eyes.

There was a purple, checkered picnic blanket on the floor with a cute picnic basket. Remy could be such a romantic when he wanted to be. He pulled you onto the blanket and then onto his lap. “What do you want to try first?”

You giggled and opened the basket. Inside was an assortment of foods. There was some cheese and some chocolate filled croissants and little strawberries and chocolate and some wine. “A strawberry, baby,” you said.

He pulled the little container of strawberries out and picked the most yummy looking one because only the best for his boyfriend. He held it up and smiled. You playfully opened your mouth and he slipped it in. You bit down and it tasted so good. “Mhmm,” you murmured.

“It good, baby? My boyfriend gets the bestest of the best. T’es le plus bel homme au monde, mon amour.” He pulled you closer against his chest so you were wrapped in his arms. With a wide smile, he kissed you on the top of your head. “Ou se bagay ki pi bèl ki janm vini nan lavi mwen,” he smiled.

You looked up at him with a smile. “What did you say, baby?” Him speaking like that to you always made you smile and giggle.

He let go of you with one hand and picked up a croissant. He offered it to you to bite and you did. “Nothing, baby, just saying how much I love you.”

You giggled again, now with a mouthful of croissant and he kissed you on the top of your head once more. To him, you were the most amazing man he’d ever set eyes on and he’d do anything for you.

“I love you, Remy,” you said quietly. He smiled and pulled out a rose from the basket. He handed it to you. “I love you too, chere.”

You sniffed the rose and turned to face him. “It’s beautiful, my love.” He moved a hand to your cheek and gently pulled you in for a kiss. It was gentle and you kissed him back, slightly more passionate.

A few minutes later when you could hardly breathe, you pulled apart. He gasped and ran his hands through your hair. “I can’t believe you’re mine, cherie.”

You two sat and grazed for hours. He’d feed you strawberries and you’d taste his glass of wine. He’d brought two bottles so you guessed he’d organized for one of your friends to pick you up.

He was the most perfect man you’d ever dated. He always knew what you needed and he almost always got it for you. He would steal the moon for you and you’d steal the sun for him. You two were made for each other and not even Death would threaten to steal you from each other.

[disastersteps]

mans i wonder how mortum get to hear anita playing guitar for the first time. julia had always knew and points out that they can sing which mortum scoffs, doesn't believe it because if anything aoyun had said had before, especially "oh no, i don't sing that much." to be from anita themself.... she would've assumed that maybe anita's bad at it.

but anita looks sheepishly and julia encourages them.

"dont laugh." was anita's warning and mortum feel amused at that.

"bring it on, cheri mwen." she teases, smiling, and thinking that she doesnt care that anita sing bad. but her smile drops slightly, her eyes widen in shock and surprise as anita begin to play the guitar.

and their voice.

for all the talking, the discussing, the laughing, the sacrastic comments, the everything.

they sing so beautiful.

and julia nudges mortum's shoulder with a "told you so."

and mortum is. simply. frankly. stunned. loss of science.

if you told her a few years ago that a regene could sing beautifully, she have to believe its artificial. they are trained. but here in the living room, watching someone who sings so differently from what she had thought to be artificially and a case of 'i'm bad at it.

and absolutely not of these fits anita.

mortum is smitten. she had always been with anita, but she truly, very, and just warm in her chest to hear it lovingly.

[suniside-crossing]

@siempreminta:

She looked up with glazed eyes, surprised by the small gesture. She mustered a small smile, listening to his words as she replied softly, "nan kou mwen cheri" (Of course my dear)

My dear. When was the last time anyone called him that? Alastor can remember.

"Mwen pa—*" He clears his throat gently before waving the mood off in his mind and moving on. "Antouka. Èske w te fini preparasyon ki nesesè pou fèt la lavèy tout Hallow la?**"

*I'm not— **Anyway. Have you finished the preparations needed for the party on All Hallow's Eve?

[roseshewrites]

Yet another Sunday gone by with not a single word written in Neon 🥺 I will finish this story. By the grace of the gods lmao!

Meanwhile, since I,haven't updated on this blog in two weeks, have another random snippet of Alastor and his mother from The Devil's Forked Path:

~

In the early hours right before sunrise Alastor's mother woke him and ushered him outdoors. There was the tire swing. There was the mound nearby where Alastor's father had buried the bird, that clearing of earth free from grass where Alastor had spent countless hours scuffing his feet; grass was growing back. 

"Mama," he said. "What are we doing?" 

That early morning sweetness clung to everything; that humidity that didn't suffocate yet, that aura of blue previous to dawn that whispered with bugs in trees and the scuffing of nearby wildlife. 

They knelt in the dirt near that tire swing and she beckoned him close. Near to her again, he was able to see how her eyes gleamed with unfallen tears as she reached to a pack at her side and took out some items. 

"A lesson for you this morning," she whispered. "A lesson about Gede. About Mother Mary, and Gedeon in tandem, because they watch over us both at once. Take this," she handed Alastor a stick. 

"Draw in the dirt. A crossroads." 

Still sleepy, Alastor sat with his bare feet digging into the earth beneath him and did as she asked. When the crossroads was complete, she placed a little white candle in the center and lit it reverently, giving Alastor a cigarillo to offer to the god, and placed her own offering there next to the candle of a small glass which contained rum. 

Gede. 

An invisible guardian, an enigma of chaotic energy who smiles with unhinged grace and protects with the same zeal. A figure, his mother once told him, who appears physically as a well dressed man in a suit and a top hat, carrying a scythe. 

"Greet him with respect," his mother reminded him gently. 

"Bonjou, Gede," he murmured. 

"Bonjou," he mother echoed, laughing a little. 

He cast her a look of nervousness and she said, "Oh Al, our Gedeon has a sense of humor. There are no wrong prayers with him. You should ask him for protection." 

If Alastor shut his eyes he could nearly vividly imagine it, this spirit with a boisterous laugh and and a wildness who would scoop you in long arms or cut you down with his scythe just as eagerly any way; that perhaps Gede's laughter fell onto the wind and cut like a weapon and made the candle flicker oh so slightly in the humid air while Alastor's mother was muttering her own prayer in her native language. 

Alastor's prayer was silent. It was in his heart, in his mind; it filled his blood with a simmering of longing that he could not comprehend. He longed for that wildness for himself. He longed for that ease of laughter, and imagined that if the god would speak with him, it would be with a suave carefree grace, that Gede's heart and soul was like a drum beat of dance and song and language. 

Perhaps Gedeon liked jazz music.

Alastor thought that might be so. 

"Mwen Cheri. Listen to me. Listen to the songs in mass today. And if they get too much, listen for the protection of our Gedeon. Remember to hail Mary with respect today. Please? Honor your father today. Do as you're told. Endure it with grace. Because mother Mary watches just as Gede."

Don't stumble, Alastor, he thought, don't fall to your stuttering and forget the ritual of it. 

But he'd much prefer, instead of keeping a straight back, feeling restrained in this church mass full of incense and guilt, to dig his toes into the earth and run his hands over the rough bark in the trees and forget the whisperings of Mary, the Saints, and Christ. He'd not enjoy that tang of sour wine which represented blood. 

The body of Christ. 

The laughter of Gede. 

The protection of Mary, full of grace. 

"I understand mama. Don't cry." 

By the time he had gone back to bed, and morning sun had lit the tops of the trees outside with a magical orange light, his lesson about Gede had seemed like a strange dream. 

[bayouwitches]

4

Chapter 3

Time for some cooking in the kitchen with Mama Marie...if the boys don't blow the house up...

“Now, tie the apron to fit you, cheri.”  Marie smiled over at her newest daughter.  “You too, petit mwen.”  Now her words were directed at Melania.  “Enough laundry comes out of this house without having to try and get stains out from cooking.”  The laugh that followed was rich, deep, and honest.  A smile accompanied it that lit up her face, causing her eyes to sparkle in the mid-morning light.

“Mama, ignore the explosions.  I promise we won’t leave nutria parts all over the yard this time.   Don is going to have the pups come over to clean up any mess.”  Francois stepped into the kitchen and dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek, then one on each of his sisters’ as well.  “And ladies, do not worry, we shall keep your husbands in one piece.  If not, Don knows how to bring back the dead.”  He winked when Mel snapped a towel at his ass. “Hey!”  He took a big step to the door laughing, “okay, fine, we will keep them alive.  The rodents though, no promises.”  With that he disappeared around the door frame, Mel rolling her eyes and shaking her head after him.

“You will clean the gore off of the siding, garcon!!”  Marie yelled after her eldest son, then sighed.  Some day she was going to have her youngest have one of those hounds of his take after that boy!  Maybe a good bite on the ass would set him straight?

Heaven and Melania both were having giggle fits when Marie’s eyes turned towards them.  Both tried to contain their amusement.  Both failed.  Marie just shook her head.  She loved her children, but after over two centuries there were times she wanted to introduce them to some of their less savory ancestors.

Returning to the task at hand, Marie had her daughters stand on each side of her.  She was going to demonstrate what they needed to do then stand back and watch them do it.  First would be to dice the “holy trinity” of onion, bell pepper, and celery.  They’d do the “pope” next, but they’d start with the basics first.  They would be making a huge pot of seafood jambalaya for the evening’s meal.  

The “girls” watched their mother dice, the knife seeming to almost float on its own over the cutting board, slicing the vegetables into small pieces in a fast pace that was almost a blur.  When it was their turn to to show Marie if they had been paying attention, Melania and Heaven looked at one another with raised brows and doubtful looks.  Here went nothing.  

While they didn’t have the fluidity of their mother, they were able to achieve the small dice that was required.  There might also have been a few of those small pieces that went airborne at one another when Marie’s attention was distracted.  One might also have ended up in Marie’s hair.  And while the girls hoped that she wouldn’t know, there was no hiding anything from Marie.  Not then, not ever.

Next came the garlic, and there was a little more trouble with it just due to the size, but it all ended up the way it should.  Once everything was diced, it was time to start the roux.  Now, any chef in Louisiana can tell you there are three types a blonde, a light, and a dark.  The only difference was the length of time you cooked it.  1 part fat to 1 part flour and stir.

“All right girls, now of your workout for the day.  You’re going to keep the roux going until we have a nice chestnut color, and I’m going to clean the seafood.   And Melania, if you let it burn, you’ll get to start it all over on your own.” Marie winked at her daughter who rolled her eyes.  Starting it over was never fun.

“Yes, mamma.” 

The girls took turns adding the bacon grease, lard, and butter to the huge pan Marie had put on the stove.  Then the stirring began.  Slow enough to let the flour toast, fast enough to keep it from burning, and just enough to cause the arms to burn.  It doesn’t sound like long, but forty-five minutes can seem a long time when you’ve got to keep things consistent.

Once that was done, in went the seafood stock…lots of it.  Next went in the vegetables.  Finally the spices before it was set on low and slow for several hours to let the flavors infuse all through the liquid and for it to thicken down.  The seafood would be added more towards the end to keep it from being overcooked.

Now done with their chore, and all the small pieces of vegetables out of their hair, it was time for Mint Juleps and snacks on the back porch of the mansion. While Marie and the girls had been getting the base of the jambalaya started, Marie II had been getting the tea sandwiches and small cakes ready for an old-fashioned tea party on the back porch.  Thankfully she was used to her brothers and her brother-in-law enough that the first explosion did not cause her to drop any of the fine china.  Had she, they no doubt would have paid dearly for it later while they scoured the internet for a replacement piece.  

As the women sat out on the porch, they could hear the sound of small explosions, gunfire, and the occasional verbose cussing coming from the bayou.  At least they could tell they were all alive…for now…they’d have to see how many drug their asses back up for dinner.

All dividers by @cafekitsune

Heaven & Arthur Shelby belong to @call-sign-shark

[seulszn]

Can you make head cannons of Abby, Bella, Or Ellie dating a Haitian Reader? Like i imagine them to be so into learning about their S/O culture and language. And tearing UP their cultural food

BELLA DATING A LATINA (Haitian) READER

Yes I love this so much as a Haitian who is in love with Bella, Ellie and Abby this is gonna fill my little heart (and hopefully yours as well 😊) #LatinasforBellaramsey

Let’s say your really fluent in Haitian Creole Bella would 100% wanna learn a thing or two so you guys can comunícate with each other. I also have a feeling Bella has a notebook to write down some creole to remember. I lowkey imagine it going a little something like this:

“How do you say hi my name is in Haitian Creole?” You turn to Bella with a smile on your face closing your book “Salut non mwen se” you say as Bella nods his head and jots down what you said “thanks mon amour” Bella said as you snicker nodding your head.

Let’s say your a actress and your doing a Interview and the person interviewing you also so happens to be Haitian I feel like there would be a small segment where it’s you and the interviewer would just start talking in fluent creole and Bella would just sit their like this 🧍🏻‍♀️and nodding their head understand parts of what you guys are talking about. They so cute I feel like they would blurt out “I know a couple of these words”

Now to add on to the notebook thing. I feel like Bella would use it everyday writing down new phrases, or words you say even if she doesn’t know how to spell it and she would hand you the notebook at the end of the day with like ten or twenty new phrases for you to look over. You think it’s cute having a S/O who is so into learning so much about your culture.

“Here babe look over this for me” Bella says handing you her notebook with words that are misspelled and just all over the place. You smile at it before rewriting some words for him “modi li means damn it” you say glancing at them Bella nods his head staring at both you and the notebook. “Bella why are you so into learning Haitian Creole?” You asked as Bella smiles at you “because it’s important to learn different things and also because your culture seems so fun to learn” they would say as you smile.

Bella would 100% be into learning cultural haitian dances and since Bella is already good at dancing it wouldn’t be that hard to teach her (you guys know that she’s so hot trend on TikTok Bella would beg you to teach her how to do it)

When it comes to your cultural food Bella would EAT I mean she will be asking for seconds, thirds, fourths and even fifths to take home.

“plis manje cheri?” Your mother says holding a big pot of Diri ak Pwa Bella turns to you confused waiting for you to translate what your mother had said “she’s asking you if you want some more food” you translate as Bella nods her head like a happy hungry child “mèsi madam” your girlfriend says to your mother thanking her, your mom smiles patting her head and whispering how cute she is.

Bella would love your family gathering she thinks it’s a perfect way to bond with the people who basically raised you, everyone would love her, the elders, the kids, even the pets. The kids would point at her and whisper things to each other in awe

“My cousins are big fans of you” you would whisper point at the kids standing a few feet away from the two of you “really?” You would nod your head before ushering them over to introduce themself. “ou te yon sòsyè pa vre?” Your little four year old cousin ask holding a stuff animal your girlfriend turns to you before you translate “you played a witch” you translate as Bella nods her head with a smile. They pull Bella away to play with her.

Some of the adults would have a problem with you dating Bella because she’s a girl but majority of them don’t really care. Some of them proud of you for finally coming out after years and years of you and your fruity actions.

“Your girlfriend is cute” Your grandma says placing fried plantains in front of you “thank you grandma” you answer as she smiles at you and places a kiss onto your forehead “also beware dear your homophobic family members are here” your grandma says warning you and pointing to people behind you.

Bella would always think about you when she’s working taking pictures of Haitian snacks/food she surprisedly found taking pictures of it and sending them to you with a grin.

“Oh my gosh you got Bonbon Amidon” you say with a big smile on your face. Bella nods her head before taking other snacks and desserts from out of a plastic bag and placing them onto the table “these where my favorites as a child.” You add as Bella opens up one and pops it into her mouth “so what else was from your childhood or your favorite” they say pointing at the snacks on the table.

You always cook vegan free foods for Bella to eat since you know they love your food dearly but if you can’t figure out how you would always call your mother and she would walk you through some vegan free dishes

Bella would learn a lot of Haitian songs on her guitar and you would only smile at the kind gesture. You and Bella would have a little singing and dancing session with you just just jamming out to Haitian songs.

"You are too cute Bella" you say as he turns to you with a grin on his face "what can I say i have a pretty cool girlfriend.”

To wrap it up Bella would 100% love you and everything about you and your culture.

Another Request done I really hope you guys enjoyed this one I tried my absolute hardest with this one and I will work on the Ellie and Abby one later I take criticism so please give me feedback and please request :) orevwa Ⓒ︎ bellaxellie.

[astarab1aze]

i had no hope of meeting you so soon. // V for Loux

"Wha, wha, wha, pretty boy? Gotta prollem? Wha I e'er do t' ya, huh? 'm jus tryna turn a profit, y'know, in a back alley like any otha respectable salesman tryna close in on an untapped market... Y'know, th' folks who go bump in th' night an' piss on th' sidewalk. Someone's gotta cater t' deez fools or they'll be crawlin' up yer ass, y'know? D'ya wan' a stanky werewolf prollem orrr...? Wha, ya own th' place next door or wha? No? Then either buy somethin' or take a hike, ma cherie. Mwen gen twòp kaka poum fè. Money t' make, y'know th' 'ole shpiel, swee'cheeks."

[nothuman]

mwen cheri in iseder22

[triplecsart]

Pèmèt mwen ale, cheri. #buckhead #couplesatwar

[aescheretalks]

Se pa sipriz si jodi a m ap chante pou w

Pou valè mizè ke w pase

M pa kwè m ap janm fin peye w

//

Manman cheri se ou k tout vi m

//

Li di 'pitit mwen nou patnè'

Ke montay pa konn deplase manman

It’s no surprise that I’m singing to you today

For the weight of misery you have carried

I don’t think I’ll ever finish repaying you

Dear mother, you are my entire life

She told me “child, we’re partners”

Told me that even mountains won’t make a mother move

[astarab1aze]

❝ mwen ta kite ou ruine mwen. ou p'ap janm konnen yon lòt moun tankou ou konnen mwen. ❞ he climbed over him , threw his leg up over Loux's waist and sat down with all the airs of a king on his throne. ( claim the monster your created )

"Èske ou ta pèmèt mwen...? Sal, sal mwen...? Ya'd let th' mos' worthless sack o' shit drop t'is knees an' repent fer all 'is sins?"

All that sweet mischief drained away the second Saint claimed his lap, a hand instinctively resting on the meat of his thigh, stormy eyes affixed to mirrored depths. Flipping defilement into worship, into ardent declarations dressed up in silver-tongued entendres, freshly licked lips drawing into a perfect bow belying true intent. Woe, to be a hapless member of the congregation traveling the pews to slide his arms around those hips, dips his hands past his waistband and stroke his cock from behind, adoringly nip at the space between his shoulders, cup and squeeze and fondle until curious fingers slipped and dragged along slick, puffy lips. How he'd love to start slow and sweet, so gentle, so befitting a bashful believer - only to baptize himself between his legs in a rush of sighs and delirious moans, in a river parted only by his reverential tongue. Woe, to suckle and hum on tender bundles of nerves, so eager to prove to Saint the sincerity of his devotion, the heat of his palms on thick thighs to etch it into his skin. "Èske ou ta kite yon dyab sou tè apa pou Bondye, kè mwen?"

Lost in a fantasy, but never more keenly aware of the richness of Saint's skin, the definition of his face, and the gaze boring into him as though every descending thought had been read, seen, heard. And oh, in any other moment, he might've hated that, but here and now - he could grin. A wolf in puppydog disguise, arms curling under Saint as he changed positions, guiding his other leg around his waist in turn and pushing up, up, up- Warm, achingly hard flesh bubbled and shifted to life, one becoming two and straining so awfully in his pants, thick, tingling with anticipation and excitement. Trotting around like a fox in the henhouse, all but ready bury his teeth into sleek fabric and tear it clean from Saint's body, bury his nose into muscle and soft skin, ghost his tongue along curves and planes awash with goosebumps. What hungry, starved breaths shook out of him then, something carnally predatory shining in his eyes - nothing so sinister, but wholly ravenouse nonetheless, all that desperation burning and burning. So easy a decision to make, to bend his his knee and pray at the altar of Saint's ever so desirous divinity. So delicate beneath him, wrapped around him in wait, what beautiful eyes do watch him as he moves.

What a blessing it would be to have him spread wide open and demanding his cocks, yanking on that leash.

"Mwen ta ruine ou, ma cheri... Avek plezi. Avek lanmou..." Kisses pressed to collarbones, teeth catching on smooth skin. So pleasant and inviting a scent drawing him ever further toward the brink, heart pounding in his chest. Oh, to be nervous when at last seizing his opportunity to show Saint how pathetic and foul in his affections he could be, was. How on earth could he stand to be anxious in being his truest self, as much a declaration of his being as it was his love? Between kisses, bites, between kisses and firm grinding, explorative hands and sloppy swipes of his tongue when at last he pushed Saint's legs aside, spread, away, traveling lower and lower where nose and mouth would find a home in damp fabric, so so eager to please--

"Mwen ta kite ou toutouni ak dezespere pou plis nan mwen. I would 'ave ya... I would have you."

[sangorous]

NO WORRIES

word count: 0.9k

genre/warnings: fluff/none

time-skip atsushi murasakibara x black!fem!haitian!reader

"If your mom isn't making Haitian macaroni, then I don't wanna go anywhere..." his voice trailed off.

Of course, if there were no food, he was going to lay down in bed. Well, not today, you didn't care if your mother cooked the macaroni or not, he was going to get his tall ass up and do something today. You could see him laying down on the bed, eating a bag of chips as you were placing your earrings on. The last thing you wanted was for him to leave crumbs on the bed before you left the hotel room.

Murasakibara was usually quiet, but would always speak at the same time. Today was different, he's been too quiet. Was something bothering him? And if so, what was it?

"Okay..." you trailed off with a sigh.

"What's wrong baby?" you could hear him groan. Baby, one of the few words that he hated.

"How many times must I tell you to stop with those nicknames or whatever you wanna call them..." he sat up as his cheeks were a tint of red.

"You know you like it, so stop denying it..." you teased while he rolled his eyes.

"Your entire family will be there?" he lowly spoke. So that's the problem.

He was nervous, and you couldn't understand why. This is not the first time that he's meeting your family, it's just a few bunches that he's never met.

"Listen Saki, the last thing you should do is worry yourself. You know that my family loves you," you placed a hand on his back while he stared at you.

The noises he made, made you aware that he understood what you were saying, "Now who's driving?" you gave him a small grin.

"That would be you..." he trailed off.

Looking into his violet eyes, you gave him a quick and unexpected peck. He pushed you over which caused you to laugh, "C'mon babe," you got up from the bed.

The ride from the hotel to your parent's house wasn't far. Murasakibara told you that the suitcases were in the car, but you didn't trust him. He was the reason that you two were almost late for your flight to begin with, so you had to double-check that they were in the trunk. You sat inside of the rental car and adjusted the seat to your liking before your little journey to your parents began.

Arriving at your parent's house, you could see the many cars parked on the grass and the side of the house. You could tell that he was feeling a bit anxious, so you grabbed his hand. Squeezing it, you nodded your head with a small smile.

"Is that who I think it is?" the deep voice shouted.

"My man..." your father chuckled, getting up from his chair.

"Hello Mr. [last name]," Murasakibara shook his hand.

"How many times must I tell you? Call me [dads name],"

"Hello princess," your father engulfed you into a hug.

"Pa' you're squeezin' me," you groaned as he let go of you.

"Ya' mother is inside settin' up Mura's plate..." he chuckled with a sigh.

"See! I told you not to fret," you whispered to him while he scratched the back of his neck.

"Okay..."

"But does that mean we can eat now?" this boy was not serious right now? He just ate a full bag of snacks on your way here and he was still hungry? He was truly unpredictable sometimes.

"Murasakibara, Cheri mwen!" your mother shouted, giving him the tightest hug.

"Hi mom," he had a little on his face.

"Come, we were waiting for you two to come. I even made you a plate with a lot of macaroni with it," she grabbed the tall male by the hand and brought him inside as you followed behind the two.

Everyone's eyes were on Murasakibara. Well... not everyone, just your relatives who've never met him before. Your family was pretty tall, but compared to him? They probably felt like ants. He was six foot ten, with broad shoulders. He could also EAT, whether it was food or snacks.

"How tall are you mister?" one of your younger cousins spoke as he looked at them.

"I'm 6'10," while some of your relative's eyes went a bit wide.

"You play basketball?" your uncle looked at him while he nodded his head.

"I'm sure NBA scouts are watchin' for you..." your uncle added.

"Yeah..." Murasakibara sighed.

"March Madness is coming up so that's interesting I guess,"

That unsettling feeling that Murasakibara felt was now gone, seeing your family talk to him and treat him like family made him relaxed. Once everyone was done eating, the men decided to play basketball. Murasakibara tried to act like he wasn't interested in it, but you could read your boyfriend like an open book. His facial expressions were just an act of how he truly felt. The game was good, and it was obvious that the team that he was going to be on would win.

Afterward, everyone ate dessert and talked some more before going home. You and Murasakibara grabbed the suitcases from the rental car and brought them to your old room.

"I told you there was nothin' to worry about," you sat down on the bed as he shortly followed you.

"Yeah... Yeah..." he trailed off, throwing his back on the bed.

Grabbing the tv remote off the dresser, you turned the light off and crawled back on the bed. Laying down next to Murasakibara, he lazily wrapped his arms around your waist.

[haitilegends]

Congratulations Tarah Ernest

Haitian Pilot / First Officer AMERICAN AIRLINES

🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

You are an inspiration to future Haitian female pilots and promote diversity and inclusion in aviation.

God bless you!

Continued Blessings! 🛬 💙❤🇭🇹🙏🏽

#Haitilegends

Member of

@flyfortheculture

@obapexcellence

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Repost @ta_ra__h

I did a thing today! For 14 years I dreamed of this day. Ayiti Cherie, mwen resi ateri lakay 👩🏾‍✈️

Thank you all so much for the love and support. I am my ancestors wildest dreams

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