#badass biker mama

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

I don't remember the context and in my.current emotional state I don't care.

Love the shot of weaver and belle

Oh great. Zelena's back.

"So how does it feel to be finally chosen before regina?"

The Dark one in denim.

You're going down gothel

You've got yourself a deal rapunzel.

They do have a Good way of revealing people.

YOURE AWAKE BITCH AND I AM TOO

[yanderederee]

¡暴走族\旧車會!ｘ!ヤンキ!ｘ! 助番¡

What is the New Generation of Delinquents?

~*,`¢

Tokyo Revengers plot circles around Bōsōzoku subculture, which is why I love it as deeply as I do.

!! Update: Discussion Piece(6.14.23): Tokyo Manji Honorary Division

Bōsōzoku culture derives/d from lower class Japanese youth who’ve banded together to express dissatisfaction with Japanese Society.

America is very familiar with countercultural movements lmao. Punk/Grunge/Metal/etc…

Youth are aimless, reckless, and rebellious.

If you’ve ever enjoyed the book The Outsiders by S.E Hinton , you know this is a prime example of brotherhood bonds between lower class hoodlums. In Oklahoma, of all places.

Otherwise known as; Yankii, Sukeban, Kyushakai.

Who is a Yankii?

The Rise and Fall of Bōsōzoku

When Bōsōzoku Youth evolve past crime, Kyushakai

#GirlGang: Sukēban<33

This article is really awesome in explaining cultural differences, feel free to read up on some if you’re interested.

Today I plan to point out a few:

Yankii Mothers / YanMaMa; Ryoko Baji

early ’90s, yankii men occasionally entered construction and teen women had children and dropped out of high school — both stereotypes that persist today. *The young yankii mothers — yan mama — were often ostracized by other mother groups and struggled to assimilate to their new identities as parents.

Within a year of publication, Yan Mama Comic had reached of circulation of 120,000, helping to bond socially isolated communities of young mothers.

…

NO DOUBT ABOUT IT FOLKS; Ryoko and Baji’sDad were definitely two yankii teens who fell in love and had a kid too young.

Headcanon! That Keisuke’s parents were set on making a badass life together, and be awesome young parents with the coolest and toughest new punk kid to add to the books!

…But, they were still two idiots. Baji’s father probably ran head first, sacrificing himself in one way or another, I’m sure.

This leads you to wonder ~..

How did everyone else come to this lifestyle?

What is Their Social Injustice?

(All headcanons but kinda factual,so…)

Mikey: all younger siblings admire their older brothers! Shinichiro was the leader of a biker gang, of course Mikey would want to follow in his footsteps! So Mikey’s reason soon turns to::

Shinichiro: By being a overall stand up guy, true to his word and genuine to a fault, he had a strength not a lot of people had. He welcomed friendships with BlackSheep, and made a home for them however he could. Strong ally’s stood by him and as long as he’s around, they would support his ideals in shaping a better future.

Draken: was literally born into it. Escorts have been judged and poorly treated left and right, taking care of yourself—with a child to boot; was hell for a women. Unwanted kids of “filth” aren’t usually welcomed in social circles. The Children bare the injustice of inconvenience. By living with escorts and witnessing first hand the “low-class work” so many have had to endure to make a decent way of life, Draken learned young that life was unfair. So to live, you have to make a way of life for yourself, unapologeticly.

Mitsuya: Poor kids are looked down on a lot. Made fun of for things they can’t control. Kids with jobs are looked down on for being in the working class so soon. With a mother who was never home, and taking care of two younger sisters, he needed strength to deal with how unfair his life was. Meeting Draken, and realizing that the struggle to survive and keep trying to have a family even when it’s hard, he started respecting his mother a lot more. He found a sense of belonging Toman…

Baji: also literally born into it. Grew up with a single mother who was looked down on for being young/dropping out of school. Supporting her as the only Man of the house, Keisuke takes after his mother’s confidence. He also is seen having an alternative sense of fashion, making me believe he is definitely a metal head.

Kazutora: dealt with a lot growing up. He was bullied for being a sheepish pushover. He was hit by his father for any level of individuality /expression of defiance. He was manipulated into always having to pick one right side, and that there was always one wrong side. He tries showing loyalty by giving everything he has to friendships that hurt him, without realizing friends shouldn’t hurt him. No matter who he was, there was never anyone he could just be a person with. Be a part of the perfect high status family you were born into, or face the punishments. He finds comfort when he finds a family he can trust and be a person who makes mistakes. Friends are meant to be treasured. And after meeting Baji, and joining Toman, he found somewhere he could belong.

Pah: I still need to look more into him I can’t lie.

Takemichi: Bozosoku culture is notorious for being social justice fighters, as the entire notion of a subculture is to defy societal injustice anyway. And that’s just who Takemitchi is; a friend to everyone.

Hinata: the prime example of Dating into the lifestyle. It’s easy to admire and possibly fall in love with people as passionate as rebellious, adrenaline junky teens. She’s empathetic to how others see Takemichi, knowing above all else, he loves her more than anything!

Emma: she never really got into being a part of the gang, but she was by association. All of her brothers. She’s always been the crown jewel of TokyoManji! But not only that; Emma isn’t fully Japanese. True, a lot of the cast is multinationality. But she has Mikey on her side. She is his family, and that makes her strong. Foreigners are often ostracized, easy to pick out due to her natural Blonde hair. (*blonde hair is also often an act of rebellion, she showing that she refuses to dye it black to fit in can also say a little about other issues-)

LETS NOT FORGET!!! TOMAN IS BUILD ON THE BACK OF “The Little guy who sticks up for the Weak”.

The series is based on what kind of world Manjiro Sano chooses to build. Every timeline is unintentionally set by his hand, because he is that powerful of a person. Because people follow him. Manjiro is the type of person who changes fates.

By losing Shinichiro; Manjiro loses Empathy.

Shinichiro was a charismatic and empathetic person, often putting differences aside to better the other person. He was a heavily respected person in the delinquent world of Japan as the founder of Black Dragon. He led Black Dragon with a humble heart and was treated with notable respect, while also being a big brother to all three of his siblings. Even though he was a weak fighter, he lead the Black Dragon with his immense charisma. Even years after his death, later generations of members still hold him in high regard.

A person like Shinichiro is the kind of man people follow. The Weak Guy sticking up for his friends; The One who Always Won..

In a subculture seeking structure, he is the perfect person to leading a generation of a kinder and more empathetic people.

So let’s wrap up the question!;

What is the New Generation of Delinquents?

!TO.MANji !!

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Bittersweet boys with a listener who does cosplay- (HCs)

What's Hastu Miku doing in our kitchen?

Ngl really had fun with this! Might do a story for this when I get the chance!

Okay first of all, if you do any badass cosplays Alphonse and Seth are loving it.

Like Princess Peach if she was a biker, a perfect combo of the two

Alphonse def gives you suggestions if you run out of ideas for cosplay

Seth helps you make props for your cosplays may it be weapons, jewelery, or ect.

I hc Alphonse knows how to sew bc of his mama so he helps you with sewing if you wanna start another part of the cosplay

Since you plan for the cons to go to the boys try and see if they can go with you!

Alphonse is def 100% down but with Seth it's a bit trickier bc he works in town

During cons Alphonse is wearing a backpack that has everything you need to fix your cosplay

Seth is the one getting food and drinks so your not going to pass out.

Sometimes you wear cosplays while baking so Al would walk in and see Hastu Miku and be like ooonew cosplay?

Seth got jump scared by you cosplaying a horror character and almost threw a book at you

I feel like Al is the best at taking pictures so he's loves being your camera man

Seth helps make sure your cosplays cloths are washed gently in case their with a material that can't be washed in a washer

I can see Seth bc he said something about being good or okay with a curling iron, he helps you with your wigs if you wear them!

Alphonse def helps with decorating or accessorizing your cosplays.

Honestly idk if cons would let you sell your baked goods but I can see a cute little stand where u guys sell them!

Alphonse has to be the responsible one with holding you and Seth back from buying everything during cons.

Seth is good at finding stands that had a specific merchant you wanted for a cosplay! Also good at reading that one map where it tells you what every stand is

[dailydemonspotlight]

Hell Biker - Day 68

Race: Fiend

Alignment: Neutral

June 10th, 2024

AWWW SHIT, HERE WE GO! PUMP YOUR ENGINES, LET THOSE EXHAUST PIPES SHOOT, AND ROCK AND ROLL FOR THE ONE, THE ONLY, THE BEST MOTORCYCLIST THE VORTEX WORLD HAS TO OFFER- HELL BIKERRRRR!!!!!

Ahem. The last of the non-biblical fiends in the series stands out to many, whether it be for his Hulk Hogan voice, strange origin, or just how odd he is even compared to his fellow fiends. Sure, Matador is a bullfighter, and Daisoujou is a mummified monk, but the strange mix of Ghost Rider, Biker Gangs, and cheesiness has captivated many, me included. Unfortunately, in Tony4U's video on the Fiends, he had to brush over Hell Biker for a... variety of reasons, but let's just say that the Angel of Hell has a lot of things, uh, riding on his portrayal.

Starting off, and this is very explicit, but Hell Biker is directly based on the long-running motorcycle club called the Hell's Angels, the largest biker gang in the world. For the most part, these clubs consist of people who stand for freedom and ride outside of the 'laws of society-' things like romanticized ideals that many may see in, say, the Yakuza, being people who aren't afraid to step out of line of the law to do what they see as right, or, in the case of the club, to express true freedom.

Hell Bikers' name in Japanese is, quite literally, ヘルズエンジェル, translating to Hells Angel, which makes the reference even more explicit beyond the resemblance of, not only the leather trench coat, but also the Motorcycle it uses. The design of the motorcycle seems to be based primarily off of classic 1980-90's Harley-Davidson cycles, as pictured below.

I really like the detail on the motorcycle that Hell Biker uses, however, that his bike's top is pink, with the sticker being a heart with a lightning bolt struck through it- it adds a far more playful twinge to the design, showing that it isn't just the bike of a hard-ass gangster. I like to think that the heart and pink coloring are just his way of showing appreciation to his mother- there is a common stereotype in several movies and TV shows regarding biker gang members, after all, being that a lot of them are mama's boys.

Back to the Hells Angels, the club formed in the United States in 1948 as a joint collaboration between several smaller gangs- namely, a breakaway from the Pissed Off Bastards Biker Gang named Otto Friedli who left due to a dispute joined up with several people from other gangs, each of which joined together to form the syndicate we know today. Since then, it ballooned into a worldwide gang with members all across the globe. Notably, the Hell's Angels aren't an explicitly criminal organization like most organized crime groups- despite having an organized structure, every charter in the group is their own person who does their own thing. As such, while it is arguable that the leaders of the gang are complacent in some horrible things, such as human trafficking, many people in the gang simply wanted a sense of community, and actively refuse to participate in criminal business.

Now, drifting back to Hell Biker, the series seems to portray him as one of those bikers in the gang that uses it as an excuse to get away with criminal activity and violent lashing out, driven by hatred towards both himself and the world at large. As the compendium almost always states regarding the fiend,

[Hell Biker']s anger with himself and the world causes him to lash out, that everyone else would suffer as well.

Yeesh. I think he needs therapy, not a biker gang. Design-wise, Hell Biker takes a lot of cues, interestingly enough, from a completely different flaming skeletal biker- the golden-age Marvel hero, Ghost Rider! Who hopefully needs no introduction. Of course, given the idea behind the demon being a biker, the fact that he's a Fiend, and how badass flames generally look when being driven on Motorcycles, it's hard not to explain the similarity. Overall, though, Hell Biker is a very interesting Demon, and he stands out alongside Matador as one of the fiends who breaks many rules left unspoken within the series. Much like Alice! Funny that.

please don't kill me hells angels people im harmless i swear

[imaginedreamwrite]

3 time mousey started getting feelings for Curtis 🤭

There were three distinct times you knew you were starting to fall head over heels with Curtis, and each seemed to be a little more chaotic than the last. There wasn’t a great amount of idealized moments like those in romantic books or movies, rather it was the irksome nature of the man that drove you to confront your feelings. That or it was the cuts and bruises, the ailments that befit his role as biker.

The first instance where you had to face your growing feelings had been when Curtis decided to host a club meeting at the house rather than the number of bars they’d owned. His biker friends and their girlfriends, wives or hookups had attended this meeting at his house and you were happy to remain ignorant to them all.

You’d happily grabbed buckets of Lego to play with Theo & James, never really wanting to pay them any mind. You’d rather build their Star Wars sets or cities rather than worry about what Curtis’ friends were up to, until one of the hookups had garnered your attention.

A single glance had allowed you to see the girl putting her hands on Curtis’ bicep, her nails clenching the material of his shirt. It was only a single touch and yet it fuelled your envy. You’d acted instinctively and stood from the Lego factory floor and begun stalking toward the woman without question.

Your inability to hide your emotions had sparked a smirk and amusement in Curtis, all of which had been extended when you glared daggers at the woman touching him, and with upmost degradation you’d ripped her hand off of him and threw out some excuse that was as empty as her head.

It was a cheap excuse and you scurried off not long after, managing to only hear Curtis speak your petname before you were gone.

The second had happened after Curtis had come home from a night out. What you thought had been him drinking had really been a case of him taking payment for a service he was owed, and by the time he had come around back to the house his hands were marred with cuts and bruises.

Despite how irritated you were by his nonchalant waving, by which he waved you off and told you not to worry, all it took was a sharp smack to his shoulder with the medical kit to get him to sit for you. He had kicked his boots off and found mirth at your sour expression and huff, he had spread his legs so you could get an unobstructed look at the few scrapes on his cheek and his hands, but what really pushed you over the line was the husky whimper of your name.

“Damn you!” You whacked him again in the shoulder while still being between his legs, your heart thrashing in your chest and your stomach afflicted by butterflies. “Sit still for one minute you aggravating man!”

“Mousey-” Curtis grinned, knowing how you were affected. “-am I bothering you?”

“Yes! Your entire body bothers me! Your voice bothers me! Your eyes—” You had cut yourself off and shut yourself up, steeling your reserve to finish the job.

And the third instance of you realizing you were falling in love with the man, was after he had hosted a party at his place, insisted you come and the introduced you as his nanny.

Nothing more. His nanny, which you were, was the absolute bare minimum of what you were.

Theo and James had called you their mama, Theo and James had thought of you as so much more but their irritating daddy called you his nanny.

The nerve struck you, it dug deep within your core and you wanted to lash out at him. With a glass of wine in you, you wanted to strike him across the back of the head and call him an idiot for trying to denote your relationship. It was irksome and it was another example of how that man made you want to reenact Rapunzel’a frying pan attack, and kiss him stupid.

“Don’t let him get away with that.” Pari had reinforced your feelings of annoyance with encouragement to get after him. “Come on, Mousey. Be the badass we know you can be.”

“Seriously, don’t let him negate you like that.” Nat had given you another boosting pep talk while cleaning up the bottom right corner of your lips and the lipstick that had slightly smudged. “Take charge, Y/N. stake your claim.”

You followed him as he moved toward the back door, your eyes narrowing in determination and drive. You caught him before he could leave, whipping him around to see his toying smirk face to face.

“Need something Mousey?”

“Shut up.” Your lips crashed into his, your claim made and your boldness surging through the kiss. “Don’t you ever refer to me as just your nanny again.”

You pulled away and pat his chest twice, turning away from him to exhale slowly.

Your relationship was officially turned on its head.

[heavisdelulu]

Okay so I wanted to make a Wattpad story miles x oc (I want it to be reader so bad but I’ll just have to make a new one specifically for reader or y/n) and I wanted to share some stuff that I came up with about oc…

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Miles x oc~

Oc is definitely miles best friend. I’m talking friends since 2nd grade best friend. I’m such a simp for friends to lovers tropes. It just warms my spirit.

Oc is black and Haitian (oc is me headass). Just want to sprinkle in a bit of my culture ya feel me?

Oc is stupid smart (oc is not me 💀). Like Tony stark smart. I basically envisioned her to be the girl in the chair type, the one who makes all his gadgets and help him with his hero duties by hacking in stuff.

Oc is gonna be a badass. I mean like come on, I’m not settling for less and neither is y’all.

Oc has BIG, thick, 4b-4c hair! (No more combs for you bookie)

Oc is quiet but bold. Like she speaks when spoken to but don’t let it fool you. She’ll usually say what everyone is thinking, no matter how rude or crude it may be. Believe me, this gets her in trouble, but it’s never on purpose. She’s never been one to hold her tongue. She tends to mind her business but on the off chance she’s nosey, it has to be something important.

Oc was raised by her pops (dad) and mama (grandma). You’ll learn more later if you choose to continue reading. No hard feelings 😅

Oc has a very chill personality. Like you can have roast sessions with her, movie/ show marathons, she can help you with your homework or French lessons even tho she speaks broken creole, need her to hack the test scores so you can get good grades- she can do it but she not cause her friend’s dad is a cop. Need girl advice? She’ll tell you to ask someone else but at least she’s honest 😂. If you do something dumb, trust she’s gonna drag it out for a while.

Like- “hey remember the time you fell in front of your crush cause your dusty ass 1’s wasn’t tied. Crazy” “bruh I only said you were short, why you gotta violate me?”

Oc is blunt but awkward. She sometimes misses social cues. Buss out a joke at the wrong time type.

Oc plays volleyball. Idk thought she should play a sport to seem kid like plus I like haikyuu so yeah…

Oc’s style falls into the alternative side. Like street wear, slight emo, grudge aesthetic. But she knows she has a nice body and likes to wear clothes that compliment her shape. So if she wear baggy pants then she’s pairing it with a cropped top or if she wears a big tee she’d pair it with form fitting pants or biker shorts. Her shoe style varies from platform boots, crocs, and a few Jordan’s (curtsy if mikes bugging her to get em). Pretty good style overall.

I’ll try and draw her, I ain’t the best but I can make a lil sumthin😏, plus I’m a visual person! If you’re interested more in this whole creation leave a like or lil note so I can keep going(gonna do it regardless 🤧). Also if you have any questions please PLEASE! Ask em. I will answer. I swear, I don’t have anything to do. 🥺 I’ll make some more head-canons up until the I actually release the story.

Thank you for your time and have a bless day🫶🏾💋

[hotdamnhunnam]

Meet the Fuck-Ups

A/N: Here’s the winning fic from this poll that I posted for what to write next! In which you’re Jax Teller’s girlfriend, and it’s your first time meeting his parents... cue family drama followed by Jax making up for the trauma by treating you to especially epic sex ✨

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk (all in Part 2) – Part 1 is just the Teller-Morrow clan fucking around and being a traumatically chaotic bunch of clowns 🤡 Request: This anon request + follow-up + character pref poll

Word Count: ~3.1k

“Jackson.”

The prince of Charming stops mid-walk, blonde hair flipping around his head in sudden shock, as the queen mother unexpectedly attacks him.

He was just caught off guard, as he’d been mesmerized watching you from across the yard. Admiring from afar. Whenever you’re at an event where Jax’s folks are in attendance, you make sure to keep your distance, so as not to stir suspicions. He’s determined to protect his girlfriend from his toxic parents; it’s a secret love affair between you two. But he can’t get over just how gorgeous you are, at the far end of the backyard, gracefully grilling burgers at this big neighborhood barbecue...

And Gemma notices that he’s loving the view. “You’re fucking her, aren’t you.”

“What?” Jax huffs, pulling back to escape from her manicured hands on his kutte. “I—ugh...”

“Jesus Christ,” Gemma melodramatically sighs, seeing straight through the secrets and lies. “You’re not just hitting that. You’re dating, and you’ve got it bad. I knew it.”

“No, you don’t know shit—”

“She’s got you all giddy and googly-eyed. Now you go tell her she’s invited to dinner tonight.”

The poor guy looks like he just literally died. “But Mom, I...”

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me,” Gem snaps; she won’t take any crap. “What, are you worried it’ll go badly? You embarrassed of your family?”

Those blue eyes blink sarcastically. “Ya think?”

“Shit only happens when we drink.”

“Yeah, which is 24/7. Mom, I’m not even...” 

But they both know the prince’s desperate protests won’t go over well. The queen has one last thing to tell. “Now go invite your girl to dinner, Jax, or I’ll do it myself. And spend the rest of my life making hers a living hell.”

Jax doesn’t doubt it, and he’s quite honestly terrified about it. “God, you’re so fucked up...”

“Apple, tree, and all that crap,” she deals his golden-stubbled face a playful slap. “You know you’re just as fucked as me. It’s time to see how well she fits in with our fucked up little family.”

***************

At the doorstep of his own childhood home... the badass biker known as Jax Teller—the fiercest and most fearless man you’ve known, ever—looks scared out of his wits. He tries to channel all his nerves onto his mother’s creepy garden gnomes. “Seriously, Y/N, this one is smiling like he secretly just murdered someone. Psycho piece of shit.”

“Hmm, I sense some deep-seated resentment here...” you tease him, softly squeezing at his arm to calm his fear. “Did this little bastard traumatize you as a kid? What is it, was he Mama Teller’s favorite?”

Sticking out his tongue, Jax rolls his beautiful blue eyes with a big sigh and plays along. “Yeah, kills me just to hear you say it...”

Leaning up to kiss his cheek, you guide him up the front steps as his knees start going weak. He is legitimately scared as hell. “Well, for what it’s worth you’re my favorite, and Mr. Gnome ain’t shit.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” Jax tilts his head to kiss the top of yours, slowing down as you near the front door; you can tell that he’s stalling. “Better not say that to my mom. She cut the last girlfriend I brought home who said shit about the garden gnomes.”

“Oh, God,” you mutter—whether that’s a joke or not... you’re honestly not sure. You’ve heard a lot about the infamous queen mother. “From what you’ve said of her, she’ll probably cut me if these roses are the wrong color...”

Jax beams down at the pretty pink bouquet you’ve brought for Mrs. Teller. You had hoped that this soft pleasant shade would be subtle and safe. “She’s a bad bitch for sure, but she’s got a big soft spot for flowers,” he reassures. “They’re perfect, babe. Just like you are.”

Although you know it’s far from true, you sure feel perfect when your boyfriend looks at you like you’re a shooting star. “Will your parents think so too?”

“Of course,” he coos, as you two finally step up to the front door. “Just look at you. What’s not to love?”

A lot, but Jax seems to think not. Reaching up to brush a random speck of dust off of his kutte, you murmur to him quietly, voice low and soft, in hopes of easing his anxiety. “...Then what’re you so scared of?”

He answers as if it were obvious. “That finally meeting my fucked up family will scare you off.”

“Oh c’mon, you think I scare that easy? Really?” with your free hand, you punch him gently in his broad muscular chest with a resentful huff. “Jax, you should know by now I’m big and strong and tough.”

Before your tall blonde boyfriend can respond... the front door suddenly swings open. That is not what Jax was hoping. Curses himself in this moment, as he knows he should’ve grown a pair and knocked before this happened.

But he hadn’t.

And now the proud lioness of Charming... has just pounced on your ass without warning.

Well, this is gonna be fun. Gemma is glaring daggers at you before the night’s even begun. “Beg your fucking pardon, but did someone just punch my son?”

“Mom, don’t...” your man groans, mortified to the bone.

You raise your hand up quickly, smiling innocently while admitting what you’ve done. “Guilty. Hope you’ll please forgive me?”

Gemma studies you up and down, shadowed brown eyes scoping out every weakness and flaw to be found. She’s a critical bitch when it comes to her baby boy’s girlfriends. “That depends. Was it your bright idea to keep this little fling a secret from his parents?”

Right about now Jax wishes he could disappear inside his kutte. “Mom, can you not—”

“Well, we make all of our big decisions together,” you candidly tell her. “But no, the idea wasn’t mine. I’ve been wanting to meet you and Mr. Morrow for a really long time.”

“So you’re laying the blame on my son, then.”

Your man is caught somewhere between cringing and fuming and looks like he seriously wants to punch this woman. Never mind that she’s his own mom, in her own home. He clearly wishes that you two had never come. “She’s not trying to blame anyone...”

“I’m pretty sure this little pistol can speak for herself,” Gemma cuts him off, bossy and gruff, cold as hell. Jax had described her like the evil witch out of a charming fairytale, and his description lines up well. “But whatever, I’m done. I’ve got some poison apples cooking in the oven. Extra poison. Come on in.”

She steps aside, and you put on a brave face as you nervously accept the open invite. Jax keeps one of his hands pressed against your lower back, a silent promise that he’ll jump to your defense in case the lioness attacks.

Once you’re inside, the queen proceeds as if these are your first words of the night. Extends her hand in introduction. Polite and forthright. Acting as if she had never accused you of laying a punch and a bucket of blame on her one precious son.

“Gemma Teller,” she proclaims, as if you’re not familiar with her matriarchal fame. “It’s a real pleasure. You must be Y/N.”

Jax blinks and steps in front of you all of a sudden. He had never mentioned your name; hearing it now awakens his instincts of protection. “Since when—”

“Calm the hell down,” his mother replies with a roll of her eyes. “I asked around. This little lady has a reputation in this town. Apparently I’m not the only one who figured out that you two are together.”

You hear a voice then from the next room, interrupting in a raspy boom. “Now did I just hear my woman introduce herself as Gemma Fucking Teller?”

The man of the house appears out of the hallway, joining the three of you in the foyer, with a half-empty bottle of beer in his hand. Gemma brushes away his theatrical alpha male anger. “My old man. Swears like a sailor.”

“You bring that shit out of me every damn day,” he tells her, extending his free hand to make your acquaintance. He’s clearly not sorry about the foul language. “Clay. And this is my wife Gemma Teller-Morrow.”

Gemma grabs the beer out of his grip, takes a sip. “If you say so,” she quips. “This old bastard is the President of SAMCRO, and a total fucking scumbag just in case you didn’t know.”

Oh, you knew it—Jax has filled you in on all the Sons’ business. You’re far from clueless.

But Clay doesn’t know that you’ve got all the dirt. “Whatever shady shit you’ve heard... don’t listen to a word. I’m a mechanic and a motorcycle enthusiast.”

“Of course,” you answer with a smile, well aware of Jax squirming uncomfortably beside you all the while. “It’s really nice to meet you two. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Clay is checking you out more than you would like. His sunken eyes survey your figure as if you’re some kind of bike, shiny and new. “Wish we could say the same. Jax keeping you a secret from his family is a crying shame.”

Your man cuts in then, all of a sudden. He’s sick of the blame game, and shifts his position to block you from his stepdad’s unwelcome view. “Alright, can you guys please just thank her for the flowers? Then let’s sit and grab a bite. We’re only staying for an hour.”

Gemma shoots her son a look of spite—planning to keep him here all night—but graciously accepts the roses. “Thanks, doll, these are gorgeous.”

Her husband mumbles underneath his breath, as if he thinks you’re fucking deaf. “Yeah, she really is.”

At that, Jackson erupts, pulling him furiously to the side. “You better fucking stop...”

The queen is taking it in stride. She’s used to Clay’s wandering eyes and doesn’t even care to listen. Beckons you into the kitchen, giving the men a few seconds to fight. 

Gemma checks on the food in the oven and pours you a drink over frivolous chit chat. Small talk feels a lot safer than real talk with her, so if this is the course of the rest of the dinner, you’re quite fine with that. 

She compliments your dress, which you had taken care to make sure wouldn’t come off as classless—you wanted to look casually elegant, dressed to impress, yet innocent and modest. When you had decided on it, Jax had joked that you look like a virtuous virginal goddess. Which is a big joke to be honest, given that you’re fucking addicted to taking his huge cock and giving him long filthy blowjobs...

“So you seem nice enough,” Gem interrupts your wayward thoughts. “Guess you’re all pink roses and butterflies and gumdrops?”

She has absolutely zero need to know the facts: that when it comes to Jax, you’re nothing but a dirty little slut. You keep your inner whore mouth shut, batting your eyes theatrically. “Yup—that’s just me. Ain’t nothing else to see.”

“Oh, and you’re sassy,” she laughs as she leads you into the dining room and gestures at your seat, now that the food’s almost ready to eat. Sets the bouquet down on the table as a centerpiece. “Sass and savagery are the key to surviving this family.”

The boys finally arrive, now that Jax is done verbally skinning his stepdad alive. Badly. In the heat of the argument, he had abandoned his kutte and is now wearing only his heather grey hoodie, which makes him look like such a soft cuddly cutie. But nothing about him is goody-goody; he’d made it clear that he will literally pull his gun if Clay dares to refer to his girl as a ‘hot piece of pussy.’ 

Jax just hopes and prays that Clay will keep it classy. When the old man starts getting tipsy—as he is tonight already, obviously—his remarks inevitably get a little nasty.

“Here I thought dinner would be served,” Clay grumbles, as he sits himself at the head of the table. He’s half-joking with his next words, but just half—there’s a bona fide dickbag behind that big laugh. “Shit’s still in the oven? Get back in the kitchen and do your job, woman!”

Gemma flips him the finger but doesn’t linger. Stows her lioness ego and goes to fetch dinner—she picks her battles, with this chauvinist asshole. When it really matters the queen will make damn sure she comes out the winner.

You motion to stand up and offer to help. But Gemma stubbornly insists that you should sit as she can handle it perfectly well herself.

The next minute or so is spent in awkward silence. Clay grabs another brew, and forces himself not to even look at you; the air is thick and tense. You clasp your boyfriend’s hand under the table so he won’t resort to violence.

When Gemma comes back to the dining room with heaps of food in hand, you notice that she’s taken off her slick black leather jacket, revealing a white floral blouse underneath it instead. You notice the side-eye she shoots at her man. Clay’s recent comments must’ve gotten somewhat into her head, got her feeling indignant and heated. She keeps a stone cold face, but you can see the fragile little girl behind her gaze—her heart is twisted, dark and fifty shades of fucked, but it’s an open book, for anyone who takes a good hard look. For anyone who cares to read it.

And somehow, having met the lioness who raised the man you love... you understand him better than you ever have, till now. Vow to yourself that you’ll spend the rest of your life giving him all the love he’s ever needed.

In any event, dinner is finally served and it’s time to eat it.

After a fair bit of small talk, Gemma has had a bit too much to drink and then suddenly brings up the subject of... well, Jax’s cock. “So tell me—what’d you fall in love with? His big heart or his big dick?”

You blink, then blurt out something without bothering to think. “Who says his heart is big?”

Clay bursts out into good-humored laughter at your unexpected answer. “Hah, I dig this chick,” he hollers.

Jax impulsively picks up a steak knife; his stepdad should honestly fear for his life. “Don’t you call her—”

Raising a hand to firmly press against his chest, you hold him back. “It’s fine, Jax; really, I don’t mind. ‘Chick’ isn’t even negative. Don’t get all oversensitive. It’s fine.”

He takes a seat, but still he seethes, growling through gritted teeth. “You on their side or mine?”

You shrug. Playing it cool so you can be his rock, though truly everything about this evening has you shook as fuck. “Just fitting in behind enemy lines.”

Jax releases a deep sigh, still breathing heavily. “Fine. As long as you know who’s the enemy.”

Clay shakes his head, snickering as he tears a crust of bread. “Enemy? C’mon, son, that’s no way to talk about your perfect white-picket-fence family...”

Everyone at this table knows full well that if the Teller-Morrows had a fence, it would be inked in black and stained in bloody red—permanently—from all the deadly crimes that SAMCRO has committed. Sure as hell wouldn’t be white.

The mood just got a little bit too heavy; tipsy Gemma tries to make it light. “Enemy’s probably right. It’s a damn war in this house every night. What fun is life without a little fight?”

She winks at you across the table. Just a friendly little gesture, girl to girl. And though she’s mentally incredibly unstable... that’s the first time this whole night that you’ve felt comfortable. That little gesture really means the world.

So long as you can count the queen among your friends, you’re on the right side of the Teller-Morrows’ bloody picket fence.

As dinner continues, the conversation takes a turn toward innocuous bullshit like weather and uneventful local news. Thankfully then the air in the room gets a little less tense.

... That is until Clay sets an ominous tone again, scowling across the table at his stepson. “Jackson. Lemme ask you a serious question.”

Jax is currently chewing a big piece of meat up. He stops; his face drops. 

As you tremble in worry, the man of the house carries on with his critical inquiry. “You, uh... mind passing me some of that corn on the cob?”

Oh, that was savage. You can feel the blood return to Jax’s veins, heart picking up its beat again, as your tough guy boyfriend heaves a sigh of relief and pretends that he wasn’t just punked like a pussy-ass bitch. Tries to brush off the dumb prank with swagger and style.

“Now there’s that smile. Haven’t seen it in a while,” the queen mother gladly reacts, raising her cup. There’s nothing in the world that makes her happier than happy Jax. It’s all she ever really wants. And she’s proud of her husband, for once. “You got the kid to lighten up. Good job.”

“Yeah, I ain’t all bad,” Clay laughs, giving the room a rare glimpse of the zero-point-two percent goodness in him. “Now do I get some sugar for that?”

He puckers his lips, taps his pointer finger against them to request a quick kiss.

Gem pretends to resist, but in her twisted fashion she loves the man more than she cares to admit.

Of course he loves her, too. On some level even the most fucked up love built upon a whole lifetime of secrets and lies can be true. “I love you, babe,” he tells her as she pulls away, though she already knew.

And at that, Jax is happy. As fucked up as these sick twisted psychos may be, they’re his family. The love that they share is a sweet thing to see. And he’s fucked up too, obviously—the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree.

The only person he loves more than them is you. And the way you’ve so bravely and gracefully handled his parents... honestly made him fall in love with his girlfriend all over again. Jax already can’t wait to get back to his place after dinner, and show you just how big his heart and his dick are. Remind you of all of the mind-blowing things that his big dick can do.

Now that you’ve survived meeting his fucked up family... finally... he can spend the rest of the night, and the rest of his whole damn life, loving you madly. And fucking you up, just the way you both love. Badly.

***************

... Continued in Part 2!

Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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[lilacyennefer]

A Future with You

A/N: Hi everyone! So, I had the idea for this fluffy little piece, and I had to write it during the weekend. It's not really proof readed so forgive me for any mistakes. I got really insecure about my writing, and how I write Angel, so any feedback is greatly appretiated. Enjoy the rest of the weekend, and have a beautiful week <3

Summary: Angel meets with your son for the first time.

WARNING: none, it’s fluffy 

At first, you were nervous to tell Angel that you have a 4 years old son, Luke. 

To your biggest surprise, Angel loved the fact, and he couldn’t wait to meet with him, but unfortunately Angel was really busy in the past few weeks, with all the club business, the rebels, and doing shifts at the scrapyard. 

That’s when you decided to bring Luke to the scrapyard to meet with Angel, since your son was restless about meeting this badass biker you told him about. 

You knew that once Luke and Angel met, there’s no going back from this. 

They either would really like each other, or really don’t, and if your son doesn’t like Angel, then you have to break up with him, since you don’t want your son to be around someone he doesn’t like. 

But it also was important for Angel to like Luke, since if things would go nicely, he would become a father figure for him. 

You take a deep breath before you take Luke’s small hand into yours and walk into the scrapyard with him. 

You hear him say a ‘wow’ excitedly as he looked around, and it didn’t take long until you spotted Angel, who was working on his bike. 

He was wearing a sleeveless green Romero Brothers shirt, his tattooed arms are on full display, making you lick your lips. 

He didn’t saw you coming, not until the point you were close enough for him to hear you say:

“Hey there, handsome.” 

Angel wasn’t expecting to hear your voice, but he immediately recognised it, making him look up from his work. 

With a smile on his face, he looked up at you, but his smile faded quickly as he looked at the little boy next to you. 

Luke was hiding behind your leg, suddenly being shy in front of the tall, intimidating looking biker in front of him. 

“I know you’re busy” you start nervously “but someone couldn’t wait to meet with you.” 

Angel’s eyes shift back at you, then back to your son.

Nervously, he wipes his hands clean, then he walks up to you.

With a smile on his face, he squats down to be on the same eye level as Luke, then reaches his hand out to your son, who’s still intimidated. 

“I’m Angel.”

Your toddler looks at the big hand in front of him, then reaching his tiny hand out to shake it. 

Angel couldn’t help but smile when he wraps his fingers around Luke’s tiny ones, his smile makes the 4 years old smile too.

“Do you want to see what I’m working on?” The biker asks the toddler, who suddenly jumped from behind your legs, his previous nervousness disappeared so quickly as he looked at the bikes behind Angel.

“Yes!” Luke said enthusiastically, taking Angel’s hand as he led the toddler to the bikes.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest as you watched your boyfriend with your son, all your worries going away when you see how much they like each other already. 

“When I grow up I want to be like you!” You hear Luke say excitedly.

The toddler’s words meant so much to Angel, he could feel his eyes fill with tears. 

Having a father who never actually loved him made Angel think ten times more about having a child, and his lifestyle was also something that worried him when it came to having a family. He never thought that he’d be worthy to be a father, he was way too insecure about many things, and he didn’t want to fuck someone’s life up, since he already fucked up his. 

But having Luke around, even if it was only for a few minutes, he started to change his mind. 

Angel started to think about how he wants to spend his whole life with you and Luke, and how much he wants to have his little family to grow. 

“Luke, it’s time to go.” You call for your son.

“Nnnnoooo! Mommy please!” He says with a pout, and puppy eyes. 

“C’mon baby, it’s lunch time, and we showed up uninvited.” You say.

You really didn’t want to bother Angel at his work, and Luke needed to have lunch soon, then take his nap. 

“Mi dulce, it’s really fine.” Angel says, trying to convince you to stay a little longer.

You look at him, and you can tell that he actually means it, and wants to spend more time with the two of you.

You look away from Angel, down to your son.

“Aren’t you hungry, Luke?” 

You see your son think for a second before he looks at the ground, kicking some dirt.

“I am.” He says faintly “but I want to stay with Angel.” Luke pouts again. 

“I’m coming with you then.” Angel shrugs.

“Angel…” you try to protest, but Angel was having none of it.

“It’s going to be fine! I’ll go talk to Bishop.” And with that, Angel was on his way to the clubhouse.

You follow him with your eyes, worrying that you caused any problem for him. 

Luke taking your hand snapped you out from your thoughts, making you look down at him with a smile.

“I like him!” He smiles at you.

You brush your fingers through his hair, making him giggle.

“I like him too, peanut.” You tell him, then see Angel walk out from the clubhouse. 

“Alright, I got like an hour, so let’s go and eat.”

“Can we take your bike?” Luke asks the biker excitedly.

“Absolutely not!” Angel and You both say in unison.

——

10 minutes later you walk into one of your local diners, looking for a booth for the three of you.

“Can I sit next to you?” Luke asks from Angel, taking the biker’s hand in his tiny ones as he looks up at him. 

“Of course you can!” Angel smiles down at him.

Angel helped Luke sit inside the booth, then sitting down next to him, you in front of them. 

“Alright, little man, what would you like to eat?” Angel asks your son.

“Hamburger!”

Angel looks at you with raised eyebrows, and a smile on his face “Okay, mami, can we get hamburgers for lunch?” 

You sigh dramatically “How could I say no to my favourite boys?”

Luckily, the diner had menus for children, so Luke didn’t get a normal sized hamburger. 

All three of you had so much fun during lunch, Luke absolutely adored being around Angel, and you could tell that Angel liked to be around Luke too. 

“Mama, I have a serious question.” Luke starts, his expression is just as serious as his question will be. 

“Can I get some ice cream?” 

Angel laughs at the toddler’s question, he wasn’t expecting his serious question would be about ice cream. 

“You know what?” You asked “You can.”

“We should get some too.” Angel offers.

You order ice cream for everyone, Luke wanted chocolate flavoured, you chose your favourite one, and Angel got caramel flavour.

While waiting for your ice creams, Luke was checking out Angel’s tattoos that were still on display in the sleeveless shirt.

“You can touch them if you want.” Angel tells the toddler as he pushes his tattooed arm closer to him. 

Luke hesitantly traced his tiny fingers over Angel’s skin, admiring the black ink decorating his skin.

“Can I have tattoos too?” Luke looks at you curiously.

“When you’re old enough, yes.” You agree.

“Old like Angel?”

“Did you just call me old?” Angel looks down at Luke, pretending to be offended from his question.

You see Luke think for a few seconds before he simply says “Yeah.” 

Angel dramatically places a hand over his chest, his mouth is open from the hurt he pretends he feels.

The scene makes both You and Luke laugh, Angel eventually joining too, as he can’t hold his laughter anymore.

“To be fair, you are actually older than both of us.” You add.

“Never heard any complain before.” Angel raised his eyebrows at you. 

“Oh, I’m not complaining! I was simply stating the truth.”

Angel doesn’t have the chance to reply as the waitress walks up to your table, placing your ice creams in front of you. 

You were having a casual, fun conversation with your boyfriend, Luke was too busy with enjoying his ice cream. 

When he was finished, Angel was still eating his, it was placed on the table.

Angel’s full attention was on you as he talked, but you saw Luke move closer to him with his spoon in his hands, and with a quick move he took a spoonful of Angel’s ice cream.

“Luke!” You laugh, your mouth dropped open from the surprise.

Angel, just as surprised as you, looked down next to him, seeing Luke snickering with the spoon in his mouth. 

“He stole from your ice cream.” You inform Angel when you see that he’s totally clueless about what just happened. 

Angel grabs his ice cream and holds it towards Luke “Do you want some more?”

Luke hesitates, then shakes his head “No, thank you.” 

By the time you finish the rest of your ice creams, Luke was sleepy, ready for his afternoon nap.

Angel paid for the bill, and when he saw that Luke was about to fall asleep, he offered to carry him.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.” You tell Angel, but he already lifted Luke up, and the toddler automatically wrapped his arms around Angel’s neck. 

The biker caressed his back, making Luke snuggle against him more.

The sight of Angel holding Luke, and how your son peacefully was dozing off on Angel, and how much Angel already cares about Luke makes your heart melt, and you suddenly feel the urge to have a baby with your boyfriend. 

“I’m sure.” Angel kisses you sweetly on the lips.

——

Luke was still asleep when you dropped off Angel at the scrapyard, none of you wanted to wake him up to say goodbye.

This caused Luke to cry when he woke up and he realised Angel wasn’t with him anymore.

You had to call Angel so he could talk with Luke, calming the crying toddler down. At the end of the conversation, you heard the biker promise Luke that he will be there to read him a bedtime story. 

Angel’s promise made the toddler stop crying immediately, making him all excited about the evening to come. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Luke, and watching his favourite cartoons before it was time for lunch, then later for his bath. 

“Where’s Angel, mommy?” Luke asks you, sitting on the bed in his pajamas.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon, baby.” 

As soon as you said this, you heard a faint knock on the door. 

“Angel!” Luke yelled as he got up from his bed, running towards the front door.

You open the door, only to find a fresh looking Angel standing there, in his jeans and a plaid shirt.

Luke immediately jumped on Angel, making the biker lift him up as he stepped inside your house. 

“I hope I’m not too late.” He says as he kicks his shoes off.

“Just in time.” You answer sweetly.

You follow Angel as he takes Luke to his room, the sound of your son’s laugh filled the house from Angel’s tickling. 

“Alright, little man. It’s time to go to bed.” Angel gently places Luke down on his bed, tucking the toddler in.

“What do we read tonight?” 

“The Cat in the Hat!” Luke explains excitedly.

Angel sat down on Luke’s bed, the book open on his lap. 

You place a gentle kiss on your son’s forehead, wishing him a goodnight as you walk out of his room, leaving him with Angel.

20 minutes later Angel joins you in the kitchen, kissing your cheek when he stops next to you.

“He’s asleep.” He informs you as he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you close to his body.

“Are you hungry?” You ask Angel. “I put some of the dinner away for you.”

“I could eat, thank you.” Angel kisses your neck before he lets you go and sits down to the kitchen table. 

“There you go.” You kiss Angel on the lips as you put the plate down in front of him.

You sit down at the table too, looking at him eat before you speak.

“Thank you for today.” You say sincerely “You didn’t have to do all this what you just did, we showed up uninvited. I hope we didn’t cause any trouble for you.”

“Querida, I loved to do all of this.” Angel answers “Bishop understood, and I loved to spend time with you.”

“Thank you.” You smile “You’re really good with him. And he really likes you already.”

“I like him too. He’s a great kid.”

“You know,” you start nervously “he deserves a father figure like you.”

You see Angel swallow nervously “I’m scared shitless. To be a father. I’m afraid I’ll fuck this up, I’ll ruin his life. But spending this day with the two of you made me realise how much I want to be a part of this, all of this. Raising him, taking care of him, going to his school programs to support him, and one day when we are ready to have more babies.”

“I understand your worries, all of them.” You reach your hand to take Angel’s in yours, caressing your thumb over his tattooed hand “But I’m here with you. I don’t expect you to do everything from the first moment! But I do appreciate everything that you do. And we don’t have to rush things! Baby steps, Angel, baby steps. And we do this together.”

Angel squeezes your hand “Together.”

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[starlessea]

Ultimate Guide to Writing Accents and Dialogue

I recently saw an amazing post on how to keep your characters ‘in character,’  and I wanted to make my own about writing accents, dialects, and overall just creating dialogue that suits the people you are trying to portray.

I’m a language/linguistic student, so here are a few tips I think you should consider!

1) Standard Pronunciation: 

First you need to think about where your story is set, and what is the standard dialect of the majority of your characters compared to your main character. What I mean by this is, if your story is set in the South, and all of your characters therefore have that Southern drawl, then it becomes the STANDARD, and has nothing to contrast it unless you introduce something.

If your main character (your POV) has a different accent, then make it NOTICABLY different from the standard of your story. It’s good to have accent variety, otherwise all of your characters start to sound the same.

2) Constructing your Vocabulary: 

Next, you’ll want to consider the vocabulary of your character. Ask yourself questions about them: are they educated, what was their upbringing like, do they work in a field with specific vocabulary? You can strip it back even further than that - when you think of your character how would you describe them? Could you see a badass biker using long, sophisticated diction on a regular basis? Or an old woman swearing like a sailor?

Don’t get me wrong, these are very much stereotypes, and often the most interesting characters are created by subverting your expectations. But use these questions as a springboard for your characters. If you’re writing fanfiction, and know the characters well already from a movie / tv-show, then try to IMAGINE them saying your lines to see if they are something they would actually say. 

However, also note that the register of your characters is bound to change given the situation. Obviously, someone is more likely to use heightened vocabulary in a certain setting - e.g. within a classroom - and more casual language elsewhere - e.g. in a bar. See below for such a distinction:

Formal: Yes/No

Informal: Yeah/Nah

3) Orthography, Syntax and Morphology: 

Okay, so those words might look a little scary, but don’t worry. Orthography is just a fancy way of saying spelling (specifically, the standard spelling system of a time/place and how we might see a character deviate from it), syntax is word order, and morphology is how words are formed (such as grammar, inflections etc.). I’ll give some examples of what I mean.

Orthography: I’m going to use Daryl Dixon from TWD for reference (keywords: Southern drawl, redneck, country). For Daryl, some words he says I write phonetically (according to how he says them), so that the spelling matches the phonology. E.g.:

Standard: “Take care of yourself.”

Daryl: “Take care of yerself.” 

I tend to do this alot with pronouns, such as ‘you/ya,’ ‘your/yer.’ But I also use the long, standard forms for variety and emphasis - e.g. ‘you’re right.’

Syntax and Morphology:

Often, a character will use different syntax or morphological patterns that we aren’t used to. Often, non-native speakers are portrayed using types of English we often categorise as ‘incorrect’ - but are just non-standard. You can find good examples of this within Creole literature.

For example, past-tense verbs are usually conjugated in the present-tense form:

‘we was / if I was you’ instead of ‘we were / if I were you’ 

“I go now.” 

“She gives it to me yesterday.” 

Unfortunately, a lot of these conventions are also stereotypically used to portray characters who are uneducated - think of Joe or young Pip from Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations, for example.

But, you also want to avoid STEREOTYPING your character too much, as that can come across as amateur or cliche. What I mean by this is don’t over-rely on certain patterns - don’t overuse them. It’s okay to have variety, even if its with the SAME character. Just do it in a way that fits your overall construction. You can even change these speech patterns DURING your story to represent the development of your character, or them picking up an accent, or being around different people.

4) Apostrophe and Negatives:

Apostrophe: These can be used to mark a number of things - such as abbreviations, contractions, possession etc. If your character has a certain accent, they might roll certain words into one another - not stressing specific consonants, for example. We can see this in ‘C’mon.’

Alot of abbreviations are now recognised slang words, too. For instance:

C’mon = Come on 

‘Cos = Because

Lil’ = Little

‘Ma = Mama / mother

Ol’ = Old

Think about whether certain abbreviations and slang matches the register of your character, as well as their location. For example, slang words like ‘cuppa’ (cup of tea) are usually expected in a British setting.

Also, remember that the apostrophe goes in the position of the letter/letters you are getting RID OF, which is not always necessarily in the place of the contraction. E.g:

‘Do not’ contracts to ‘donot’ which abbreviates to the standard ‘don’t.’

Going back to my Daryl Dixon example, other common abbreviations I use for him include the following:

‘Ing’ contraction - walking becomes walkin’.

 Anyone, anything - becomes ‘nyone, ‘nything

Pronoun contractions - her becomes ‘er.

Connective contractions - and becomes an’ or n’.

Other contractions don’t even need apostrophes - such as ‘gonna,’ ‘gotta,’ ‘sorta,’ ‘wanna.’

Negatives: 

Even though Standard English doesn’t use double negatives anymore, we can use them in our writing of characters as an indicator of their background or dialect. They can also be used for emphasis.

Coming back to Daryl, he tends to use a lot of double negative constructions:

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

“Don’t want nothin’.”

“Ain’t go no reason to.”

If you want to get even more complex, you can have a proclitic negative (where the negative attaches itself to the verb - e.g. don’t), and contract it further so you get a multiple contraction. For example:

You (pronoun), Are (verb, form of ‘be’), Not (negative) = you ain’t = y’aint.

“Y’aint never done shit for me!”

Because this is a three way contraction, it becomes a bit confusing where to put the apostrophe - is it y’aint or y’ain’t? To be honest, it becomes mostly your choice after that (stylistic). 

5) Loanwords and Imposition:

Loanword: This is a word borrowed INTO the native language FROM another one. For example, think of an American speaker using a French word or phrase in a sentence.

“Thought we were all takin’ a laissez faire approach now?”

Think of how this changes the sentence, and the impact it is going for. French is still seen as a prestigious language, so it can be used to heighten register, or can be used to mock/patronise/be sarcastic in a certain context (as in this example).

Imposition: This is when a speaker uses a word FROM their native language in the context of a non-native language they are speaking. It has connotations of power and agency. 

For example, a French speaker might use a French term in a conversation, despite it having a perfectly good English counterpart. This might be in order to demonstrate that a character is trying to show off, or is reminding their peers of their background or status.

6) Non-verbal Indicators:

This is more on the border of style, but I thought it was worth mentioning. Sometimes, the descriptive words you use can reflect a character's dialect. An obvious example can be how ‘drawled’ is associated with a Southern accent.

Although it might sound cliche, you should think about the vocabulary you want to use in order to describe a certain accent. If we were to compare perhaps Scottish or Welsh with French, for instance, you would be able to hear the distinct sound differences. The former are more harsh, guttural, have a lot of sounds that come from the back of the throat, whilst the latter is nasal and flows more.

Use your descriptions to emphasise this. Look up synonyms that describe the WAY in which your characters are pronouncing the words. Are they guttural, harsh, gravelly, thick? Or are they soft, fluid, smooth?

Anyway, I’ve rambled enough. Good luck writing, everyone!

Disclaimer: Even though this post is long, it’s actually really basic on a linguistic level - so I hope no true linguists read this haha. These are just some personal observations, but I hope they help!

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Your blog is WONDERFUL! May I request headcanons for Throttle, Modo, Vince, and Carbine from BMFM dating a high-ranking female soldier in the U.S. military and how they would react to her receiving a prestigious award for her service (Silver Star, Medal Of Honor, etc)?

Thanks! I'm glad you're liking it!

Fem!Soldier!S/o getting an award (BMFM)

Throttle

Throttle's type seems to be women who can kick his ass to Mars and back so he and s/o being together comes to the surprise of exactly no one. He's not as pushy to train as Vinnie is nor does he probe too much into what she does since few are the people who like to talk about work at the end of the day, but there is not doubt that he is proud of them.

Throttle's idea of a good date with s/o is being in a secluded spot (maybe her place, maybe a quiet hill on the outskirts of town), some take out food, a few drinks and sharing stories. He's got his own stories to tell, and being able to exchange them with someone who gets it is such a nice change of pace.

A grin breaks across his face when he hears about the medal, and he congratulates his battle angel happily. Throttle knows she's badass, and it's just nice to see that other people see that too. She deserves it. He will tell the bros about it, enjoying the reaction on Vinnie's face insisting on some sort of party.

He's the first one to drag s/o away from the party with the boys, taking her to the side to see how she's doing. It's been an overwhelming 24 hours for her and being the most emotionally in-tune mouse out of the bunch, Throttle likes to make sure she's doing alright. In private he congratulates her again, holding her close.

Modo

This mouse is so proud of s/o it's not even funny. He may not show her off as Vinnie would, but Modo has other ways of showing support, including staring at her with a swooned look on his face whenever she's working or training. Mama Modo always said to find a partner who can lift you and damn if she wasn't right.

Military work is emotionally draining and can take a huge mental toll. Of all people, Modo knows that. Whenever she's feeling down or dealing with a very bad mental day the big guy is there to comfort and help in any way he can. He's very much a physical affection comforter, but if she prefers to have him only hold her hand while she vents or if she just wants to cuddle quietly he is more than fine with that. Whatever she needs.

She's getting a medal? That's amazing! He will spin lift her before pulling into a tight hug. Modo could not be prouder of her - he knows how much work goes into the life of a soldier, how intense it can be and to know she is being recognized for it makes his fuzzy little heart soar for her. They've got to celebrate this with the guys!

Part of the reason he really wants a small party with her to celebrate is because he can't really go to the ceremony- wouldn't want people to freak out at the giant mouse suddenly there. This is Modo's way of celebrating s/o and getting to be there for her.

Vinnie

Vinnie is well aware of how kick-ass his s/o is. So is Throttle. And Modo. Charley. Carbine the one time she stopped by. Stoker ever since he started coming and going. Some guy minding his business. This biker mouse can and will go on about everything his badass of a girlfriend does for a long time, somehow never running out of things to say much to the suffering amusement/amused suffering of the rest of the team.

This is a mouse who swoons at someone capable of tossing him. The first time she lifted him over her head only to put him in a leg headlock Vinnie drooled openly without shame. She will have to remind him to keep their sparring sessions PG. Unless they are in private and she's into that in which case he's going to go a little crazy.

She did what?! Vinnie is over the moon about s/o's achievements. He's been a soldier, a freedom fighter- he knows a lot about how intense the job can be and she's out here getting a medal for being so good at it! That's amazing! This calls for party night!

Best of wishes to Vinnie's s/o - hopefully she's up for two consecutive parties. The formal one for the medal followed by the wonderful chaos the mouse has planned. It's going to be a unique experience for sure.

Carbine

Frankly s/o being a female soldier helps establish more of a friendship-turned-romance than any other career path would have. Carbine has practically been raised in the military, then took over the rebellion. She just doesn't know how to relate to civilians much anymore. Having that similar background makes things a lot easier for her.

Carbine likes to talk military, but when she's with her s/o, unless the s/o brings it up work is not going to be a common topic. Military work is exhausting, draining, and if every moment is spent on it, it can be unhealthy. When they are together, unless they are venting, their time is spent actually winding down from all the burdens of leadership. They need this rest.

This isn't to say that Carbine isn't the first person to congratulate her when she hears about the medal. Of all people, she cannot thing of anyone worthier of getting recognized for all the hard work she does. She is oozing pride for weeks, even if she doesn't show off as much as the others.

Not being a party type of mouse, Carbine would opt to celebrate with her more privately. She's not great at planning stuff like this, but having attended formal meetings she knows the best thing afterwards is a calm night with a few drinks, some good food, and rest.

[curvynerdfan]

Bookkeeper and the Biker

Thank you @xx—day-dreamer—xx for requesting and being patient! This piece was a lot of fun to write but took forever, sorry about that. I hope you like it! 💕

Also sorry for the overload of samcro gifs lol! I just love when you find gifs that fit the storyline

Jax x Reader

Y/N felt like her heart was gonna jump out of her chest. She was headed home. Well, her hometown, she hadn’t been “home” in over ten years. Her dad was killed on a run when she was sixteen and her mom used the opportunity to get her out of Charming. Not that Y/N wanted to leave. She always saw the club as her family but her mom despised SAMCRO after her dad passed. Y/N thought her mom blamed the MC for her dad’s death.

Y/N had flourished in her time away from Charming but still felt like something was missing. So she was going back. Over the past ten years, Y/N had grown her skills and felt confident in her decision to come back.

She loved growing up in Charming. She could remember running around the autoshop with Jax and Opie, driving Gemma insane because it wasn’t exactly safe. The clubhouse took hide-n-seek to a whole nother level and family dinners were her favorite club activity.

She called Gemma about a year ago and the mama bear of the club was ecstatic. At that point Y/N had no plans to move back. She just missed the rest of her family. They reminisced and caught up on each other’s lives. Gemma let her know how the club was doing and Y/N kept her second mom up-to-date on her life.

At some point, Y/N mentioned that her dream life consisted of running her own eclectic bookshop and living above it. She never thought her dream would become reality but Gemma had other plans. A two story shop in downtown Charming popped up on the market and momma Gemma called Y/N before a sign was outside the building. Once Gemma sent her all of the pictures and told her the price, Y/N snatched it up. While she had some savings, the purchase price was being covered by money her dad had left her in his will.Plus, her association with the clube convinced the owner to lower the asking price. She was given access to the fund when she turned 25 and she couldn't think of a better way to spend her money than to pursue her dreams. She even had money left over to purchase books and some furniture for her new place without dipping into her own savings.

Gemma told her she could stay in a clubhouse dorm until her apartment was set up. She pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow and parked her car. Y/N felt the anxiety build and took a few deep breaths to settle her nerves.

“There is no reason to be nervous. It isn’t like you abandoned Jax or Ope. Hell, they may not even remember me, no biggie, no pressure”, she mumbled to herself, “Gemma invited you. No one goes against Gemma, right? And it’ll be nice to see my SAMCRO family. It’ll be great!” Y/N said, but she didn’t feel as confident as she sounded.

She opened the door and quickly stepped out before she could change her mind. Once completely out of the truck, she stretched her arm up high and arched her back. She grabbed her backpack and her duffle bag and locked up her truck before heading to the office to look for Gemma.

“Can I help you lassie?” A dark-haired Scotsman asked.

“Umm, yes please. I’m looking for Gemma.” she said.

“Ah, is she expecting you?” he questioned.

“Yes, you can just tell her Y/N is here.”, she clarified.

The Scotsman disappeared around the corner and Y/N took the time to take in her surroundings. Very little had changed. The Teller-Morrow signage was rusted and worn in some places, there was newer equipment It also looked there were members in SAMCRO than before based on the number of bikes parked in front of the clubhouse.

“Y/N! There you are baby!”, Gemma shouted as soon as she walked into the office.

Y/N couldn’t help but squeal when she launched herself at Gemma. They had always been close as she was growing up. Gemma taught Y/N how being a nerdy, tomboy didn’t mean that she wasn’t a beautiful badass too.

“Hey, momma.” she said when Gemma squeezed her tight.

Gemma leaned back to look her over and then kissed her cheeks in greeting before pulling Y/N out of the office and across the parking lot, ranting and raving about how great it will be to have a powerful woman back in Charming. Y/N just giggled and let herself be dragged around.

The momma bear had cleaned up a dorm for Y/N to have for however long she needed. While it still looked like a typical clubhouse dorm, there weren’t any posters of naked women or trash scattered around the room. There was also a gift basket of goodies on the bed for her.

Y/N hugged Gemma, “Thank you for going through all this trouble for me. I am happy to be home.”

“Not any trouble at all sweetheart. You’re not the only one happy that you’re back in Charming.I know Jax has been asking about you for a while!” Gemma said, nudging Y/N with an eyebrow raise.

Y/N’s face flushed, “Don’t start with that Gem! Neither one of us should get our hopes up.”, she mumbled.

Y/N has always been close to Jax and Opie but Jackson never fall into the brotherly category. She didn’t want to get excited about the idea of a relationship with Jax and possibly ruin the amazing friendship they have. Plus, she didn’t think she was his type. Gemma said he dated Tara for several years and was really hung up on her when she left. From what Y/N remembered, Tara was always snooty, looked down on the club, and had no desire to live a small town life.

“Baby, you know me, I wouldn’t lie to you. Jax has been head over heels for you from the get go. He kept asking if you remembered him, how you were doing, how he can help you find your place here. Hell, he stocked that top drawer over there with Reaper and SAMCRO shirts so anyone new knows you are important to us. I would wear one of those tonight if I were you!”, Gemma suggested, “Give him a chance before you close yourself off again”

Y/N nodded and decided not to argue when Gemma gave her that all knowing look. Gemma helped her unpack your bags before leaving the dorm. Y/N used the hours before the party to lay on the bed and order more materials for her shop. When she had about an hour before the party’s start time she decided to take a shower and get dolled up before joining the excitement.

After her shower, she rummaged through the drawer that was handpicked by Jax. Y/N ended up grabbing a black “fear the reaper” t-shirt, a pair of her ripped jeans and some old sneakers. Y/N knew better than to wear nice shoes to a SAMCRO party. Y/N decided to tie the t-shirt up so it showed a little bit of her mid-riff and enhanced her natural curves. She dried her hair and applied basic makeup before heading to the party.

Y/N weaved her way in and out of the crowd of club members, their old lady’s, croweaters, and wannabe bikers. She made it to the bar and ordered a double before making her way to Gemma. She was starving and knew the momma bear could direct her to the food.

“Damn babygirl! You are just trying to give these boys a run for their money huh?”, Gemma said approvingly, “Atta girl!”

Gemma fixed her up with a full plate and got her settled in with Tig and Piney. Y/N caught up with the guys and dug in on the delicious food Gemma cooked. All of the sudden to mammoth arms wrapped around her from behind and lifted her into the air.

“What in the world!”, Y/N squealed.

A hefty laugh was the only response she received before she was dropped back down onto her feet. She spun around quickly and then gasped.

“Opie!” her shout pierced his ears and he flinched.

“Damn, you still have pipes!”Ope exclaimed as he wrapped Y/N up in a hug.

Y/N and Opie spent the next thirty minutes talking about life and joking around. Opie knew she was moving back so it wasn’t a surprise, but it was finally true now that she was in front of him. He was going to get married soon and wanted her to be there on his special day. Y/N and Opie had always agreed on the simpler things in life. They wanted to find their person, fall in love, get married, have kids, and live in Charming surrounded by friends and family.

Y/N gave Opie a hug and promised to visit more. The noise was getting to her though, after such a long drive the party wasn’t really her scene. She made a quick stop at the ladies room before getting a refill at the bar.

Jax made his way through the party, greeting members and partygoers as he made his way to Opie. His friend had a massive grin on his face and Jax couldn’t help but laugh. It was rare for the giant man he thought of as a brother to look like a silly puppy.

“What has you smiling so big, brother?” he asked, looking over.

“Y/N” was Opie’s one word response.

“Where?”, Jax couldn’t hold back his excitement.

Opie laughed and reached out to physically turn Jax around. His best friend laughed even harder when Jax’s jaw dropped. She was stunning. Y/N was still the beautiful girl he grew up with but he could tell she was more confident and her curves had developed even more. She was wearing one of the shirts he had picked out for him. That caused an odd sense of satisfaction. Y/N got her drink from the bartender and made her way down the hall and away from the party, more importantly away from him.

Opie slapped his back, “What are you waiting for man? Go get your girl!”

Jax felt his cheek warm and shook his head before swaggering after her. At some point she drifted out of his sight. Jax wracked his brain for where she could have snuck off too. After checking her dorm and finding it empty, he realized where she was. He climbed the stairs but paused before opening the hatch to the roof. What was he going to say to her? He hadn’t seen her in almost ten years. His mom assured him that she would reciprocate his feelings but how do you tell your childhood friend you want to be more.

Y/N jumped when the hatch creeped behind her. She didn’t think anyone would find her up here, but if anyone could it would be Jax or Opie. To her surprise, it was Jax. ‘Dear lordy, he is even hotter now,ah and that clenched jaw oof’, Y/N shook her head to clear her mind.

“Jax, you found me.” She whispered in awe.

It was real now, she was really in front of him “Y/N… of course I found you.”, he said with a sigh.

“Wow! I mean, you look really good, umm, not that you have ever looked bad. Well i guess you look bad in the baddass biker MC VP kinda way, congrats by the way. You don’t look bad ugly, not that you have ever looked ugly, you still take my breath away. I am not some flustered sixteen year old anymore and,” Y/N paused awkwardly, “ Oh my god, that is not how I wanted this to go. It’s been such a long time.I’ve missed you and your mom said you missed me to but now I’m not sure because all you’ve done is stare at me so far, so maybe your mom was wron-” Y/N paused when lips were on hers.

She could feel Jax’s lips smirking against hers, “I missed you too”, he whispered before kissing her again.

Y/N hummed, pulling away from him, “That is the best way anyone has ever made me shut up”

She leaned against his chest before looking up at him again, “What does this mean, Jax?”

“Are you really staying this time?”, he asked.

Y/N nodded, smiling at the sheepish look on his face.

“Then, I want to make you my old lady someday. For now, we can just see how things go. I always pictured us ending up together, but I don’t want to force anything. Biker and a bookkeeper, who would’ve thought?” He smiled.

“I did”, Y/N grinned.

She pulled on Jax and had him join her on ‘their ledge’. He chuckled gently in her ear as he wrapped an arm around her. He couldn’t wait to see where this was going to go. The idea of the bookkeeper and the biker felt good.

Taglist: @justahopelessssromantic

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #892: One Year Anniversary Date (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

6:34 p.m. at Big Bang Burgers......

???: Pitto..... Pitto-Kins.........('CLAP') Hey!

Dark Pit: (Immediately Comes Back to Reality by the Sound of the Clap) Huh!? What...(Starts Blushing Before Quickly Turning Away from his Two Girlfriends in Front of Him) I-I-I wasn't staring or anything!....

Misako: (Smirks Teasingly at Dark Pit While Wearing a Biker Like Attire) You sure about that?~ You seemed pretty invested on what we're wearing right now to me~

Kyoko: (Giggles Softly While Wearing a Blue Dress and Bow) Yeah. We look realllly pretty for our special night together, don't we?~

Dark Pit: (Sighs a Bit in Defeat While Turning Back to the Ladies) Yeah....You guys look great tonight. (Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) Can't believe I'm actually saying this, but I kinda wish I was wearing a tux right now.....

Misako: Yeah, but the jacket you're wearing does look good on you. Where did you get it from?

Dark Pit: Apollo's. Mama Samus got it for me a year ago I think. Special of which....(Takes Out Two Pieces of Candy From his Coat Pocket and Shows it to the Ladies) Happy One Year Anniversary.

Kyoko: ('GASPS') Jolly Rancher!~ Pitto-Kins, you shouldn't have!~ DIBS ON THE WATERMELON! (Quickly Takes the Pink Jolly Rancher and Takes Off it's Wrapping Paper)

Misako: (Immediately Glares at her Girlfriend Beside Her) Damnit, Kyoko! I wanted the watermelon!

Kyoko: You snooze, you lose, Miski-Cakes!~ (Playfully Sticks her Tongue Out at Misako Before Eating the Candy)

Misako: Miski- (Groans in Annoyance While Pinching her Nose) Forget it. (Takes the Last Jolly Rancher Out of DP's Hand) I'll take Apple. Thanks for the basic gift, babe. (Takes the Wrapper Off if the Candy and Eats it)

Dark Pit: No problem. I thought about buying you guys an actual gifts beforehand, but I didn't have enough money. (Points at the Duo) But I'm definitely gonna get you two something for Christmas this year though.

Misako: Cool. Just try not to spend too much money us on, 'kay?

Kyoko: (Smiles Softly) We'd be happy with any gift you give us really.

Dark Pit: I know. I just wanted to surprise you two is all. And to give my thanks.....

Kyoko: Thanks?....

Misako: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) For what exactly?

Dark Pit: For being my girlfriends....And for giving a brooding, carbon copy of angel like myself an actual chance in romance or whatever.

Kyoko: ('Gasps') Pitto-Kins! (Makes her Way to DP Side if the Table and Hugs Him on One Side) Don't ever put yourself down like that again, okay? You're none of these things in our eyes.

Misako: (Makes her Way to Do Side if the Table As Well) Kyoko's right, babe. I mean, you're not entirely wrong with the brooding part....

Dark Pit: (Starts Rolling his Eyes) Gee. Thank-

Misako: (Immediately Place her Finger on Dark Pit's Lips) Upup. Let me finish. While you may have some broodiness in you, you're also charming, patient, and an occasional sweetheart. And we love that about you.

Dark Pit: You.... really mean that?

Misako: (Softly Punches DP's Arm) Of course I do, dumb-dumb!~ You mean a lot to us for a reading, ya know? Hell, if anything, we should thanking you for dating the both of us to begin with.

Kyoko: Yeah. I know we can be loud, needy, and obnoxious from time to time, but-

Dark Pit: Okay. Now, I'M gonna have to stop you two from speaking any further. Cause I don't ever think that way about of either of you at all.

Kyoko: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Really?

Dark Pit: Yeah. You girls are way more cooler than anyone give you credit for. (Turns to Misako) You're a badass who hardly take any shit from no one.

Misako: (Chuckle Lightly While Blushing a Little) ('Heh') Badass, huh?~

Dark Pit: (Turns to Kyoko) And you're practically the cutest girl I ever met.

Kyoko: (Gasps Once More While Placing Hands on her Cheeks and Blush) Cutest!?~

Dark Pit: Yeah, that's right. Cutest. And those traits alone are reasons why I love the both of you equally. (Starts Crossing his Arms) So I don't wanna hear any more bullshit about you being loud and obnoxious ever agai-

Kyoko: (Immediately Pulls Dark Pit Back Into a Loving Hug While Squealing Happily) Eiiiiii!~ Thank you, Thank you, Thank you so much, Pitto-Kins, I love youuuuuu!~ (Starts Kissing Dark Pit's Cheeks Repeatedly)

Misako: (Gives Dark Pit a Sincere Smirk on her Face) Well, whaddya know? I was right. You really are a sweetheart~ (Kiss Dark Pit on the Other Cheek) Thank you.

Dark Pit: (Starts Blushing by His Girlfriends' Affections Towards Him) Y-Yeah..... No problem. I'm just....('Clears Throat') Glad we're on the same page here.

Kyoko: ('Sighs Happily') Same.......Ooh! I thought of something!

Dark Pit: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Like what exactly?

Kyoko: Okay. So.....This might not be the smartest idea in the world. But we should definitely try that Big Bang Burger Challenge again!

Dark Pit: (Eyes Widened at Complete Shock) Are you nuts!? After what happened last time!?

Kyoko: I know. I know. We weren't prepared for it or anything at first, but second time's the charm, right?

Dark Pit: (Already Has a Deadpinned Look on his Face) I think you mean "Third Time's the Charm"........

Misako: You know what? Fuck it. (Starts Smirking Confidently) I'm down for another challenge!

Dark Pit: (Immediately Turns Back to Misako) Seriously!?

Misako: (Turns to Dark Pit) Yeah, seriously. That lovey dovey speech of yours has already gotten me pumped up. I wanna show you how much of a Badass I'm really am in action. (Winks at the Dark Angel Beside her)

Kyoko: (Gives the Dark Angel the Puppy Dog Look) We can pleeeeeeease take the challenge again, Pitto-Kins!?~ Pleeeeeeeeeeease!?~

Dark Pit: ('Sighs in Defeat') Fiiiine....We can do the stupid challenge again....(Highly doubt we'll win this time....)

Kyoko: (Happily Raises her Fists in the Air) YES!~ Then it's settled. We'll show that burger who's boss and finally WIN THIS CHALLENG-

Few Minutes Later......

Dark Pit/Misako/Kyoko: (Groans in Fullness While Their Heads Are Slumped Down on the Table) ('Uggggggggh')

Koopa Employee: It seems you failed the challenge once again. (Smiles Brightly) But at least you slightly better than the first attempt. So you should be proud by that outcome. (Walks Away)

Kyoko: You hear that, guys?.... We've improved .....Yayyyyyyyy.......

Misako: Go fucking figure...... (Takes a Look at a Picture Frame, Under the BBB Challenge Champion Selection, of a Familiar Face) How the hell was your brother able to eat all of this within minutes!?

Dark Pit: I've been wondering that for now and I still don't know.....

Kyoko: Maybe he has a stronger tummy....

Dark Pit: Probably....('Sighs Heavily') Okay. After we let our stomach digest, you guys have any plans on what we should do next?

Misako: Hmmm........DP, do you have a PS4 in the mansion?

Dark Pit: Yeah, why?

Misako: I say we spent the night at your place and play some good ass Tekken.

Kyoko: We did say we would play it some day in the future. (Smiles Brightly) It could be fun. You know, after we teach you the basics first.

Dark Pit: (Shrugs) Eh. I can learn the gameplay all by myself.

Misako: (Gives Dark Pit Yet Another Smirk) You sure you don't want me to teach you anything?

Kyoko: Yeah. Misako is like crazy good at the game! Especially 7.

Dark Pit: Oh please. Everyone say they're good at something till they're proven wrong. So it wouldn't be too surprising if you're one of-

Few More Minutes and Twenty K.O.s Later at the Smash Mansion's Living Room.....

TV Screen: K.O.!

Dark Pit: (Eyes Widened at the Screen in Disbelief Before Slowly Turning Misako Beside Him) ..................Okay. So maybe I do need some lessons on this after all.....

Misako: (Smirks Once More While Kyoko Giggles Softly) Wise choice, rookie. Let's begin.

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@cyber-wildcat

@26shann

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@supergamemaster64

@princekirijo

[itsme-autumn]

Inner Darkness  |  Part 1

Author: @itsme-autumn Pairing: Jax Teller x OC Warnings: swearing, violence

Jolene, or Ruby now that she was about to be on the clock, tried to give herself her regular pep talk on her drive to work. It was something she had to do since she’s started down this particular career path more than seven years ago. 

Jo? Jo was sassy. She was a woman who could take care of herself. Get shit done. She had always been on her own and she’d always made it work. Jo was smart. Colorful. Fun.

But on her drive to work, she had to let Jolene go. She had to let go of Jo and take on Ruby.

Ruby was much more docile. Ruby loved to please. Ruby would sweet talk a man and become his biggest fantasy. Ruby was bubbly and polite. Maybe she was a bit cheeky or even wild if that’s what he–whoever he was–wanted.

And whenever he was inside her, she was–well, she was no one. She turned herself off completely. She’d gotten so good at it over the years that she didn’t even remember most of her encounters. Only the especially memorable ones. The ones she wished she could erase from her memory permanently.

Walking into the doors of Diosa, Ruby starts to head to the back first to drop off her stuff. Before she gets there, Nero catches sight of her and waves her over.

“Hey, Ruby, how you doin’ mama?” His kind eyes searching hers. 

She smiles through her exhaustion, she can’t help it with Nero. Jo hated this work, hated this life. But in the short time she’d been at Diosa he had been nothing but kind to her, seeming to sincerely care about her well being. That wasn’t a given in this industry, not by a long shot. “I’m okay, Nero, what’s up?” 

“I’ve actually got a special job for you and a few of the girls tonight. A party for a potential business partner. Think you’re up for that?”

She’s had ‘bosses’ in the past that didn’t ask–just pointed to where her ass was supposed to go. And she wouldn’t dare argue. She knew if she really had issue with it, that Nero wouldn’t force her into anything, his sister on the other hand... 

Unfortunately, Jo was in no position to turn down any jobs.

“Yeah, of course. I just need the address and the dress code.” She tries to infuse as much enthusiasm into her voice as possible. 

This was going to be a long ass night.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Why the hell are we here so early?” Bri whined. “There are like...kids here.” Her tone disgusted.

Carla rounded on her, Jo was surprised her heels didn’t stick on the floors, the MC clearly didn’t have room in their outlaw budget for a mop. Or air freshener. 

“We are showcasing what Diosa girls have to offer. The difference between us and them.” Carla’s voice was low but venomous as she nodded her head to a couple of girls that were setting up behind the bar.

“Those girls are called croweaters. They’re desperate, classless, and the patches treat them as such. We set a new standard.” Carla took another step towards Bri, eyes boring into hers. “Diosa specializes in women that men can actually bring around town before enjoying them behind closed doors. It’s about presentation. We can be here early with the families and friends of the MC–and not be obvious hookers that the old ladies will immediately throw out. Understand?”

Jo just rolled her eyes. Like anyone would ever take any of them for anything other than whores. It’s like putting lipstick on a pig. 

She tugged on her dress. Horny Biker Chick was the look she was going for per Nero’s classification. Her her dress was simple, but effective: black, strappy, and tight. Paired with black heels smoky makeup, Jo knew she would get the intended attention. That, plus what she already had going for her.

She realized why she was asked to be a part of this exclusive offer tonight. Being chubbier than most of the girls, having tattoos (more than just a butterfly above her ass), and a mop of dark curly hair made her a bit of a required taste.

For some it was a fetish of sorts. Others, usually high caliber business men wanted the antithesis of what they got at home–thin, prim, proper to her thick, blunt, and alternative. 

But badass bikers were right up her alley. Suddenly her desired presence despite Carla leading the group tonight made sense. Any other job and Carla would have made any excuse to exclude Jo–Ruby–like she always tried to do.

Ruby made her way over to the other side of the room, the party was still pretty subdued, most people quietly mingling amongst themselves. The large wall full of framed mugshots caught her eye. She couldn’t help but smirk and roll her eyes as she looked them over. Boys. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were intimidated.”

You turn to see one of the mugshot models in the flesh. He could totally pass for a model, you think before you can stop yourself. Between the slicked back blonde hair, well kept goatee, and piercing blue eyes, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a biker this pretty. And that smirk he’s giving you is really giving something to you.

“Intimidated? You should see the wall of mugshots in my living room.” Your snarky reply only makes his smirk grow. Sass was always your love language.

That’s when you notice the President patch. Oh shit. 

President of SAMCRO. Jesus Christ. No pressure or anything.

Jax is looking at Ruby expectantly and she now realizes that she’s completely missed what he’s asked her.

“I’m sorry, what?”

His eyes light up at her distracted state. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

“Um, J–Ruby, it’s Ruby.”

“Ruby, I’m-”

“Jax! Why are you wasting your time with her?” Bri is suddenly at Jax’s side, slipping her arm into his. “Trust me, baby, you want someone who knows what they’re doing to take care of you.” She then turns her attention to Ruby. “Ruby, why don’t you go get us some drinks? Better make yours a diet, though, honey.”

Ruby was never one to let a bitch get the last word in, and that was being a bit of a bitch herself. She narrows her eyes and quirks her head. 

“Wow, Bri, I didn’t know you were a nutritionist! Thats so great. And people say your only talent is sucking cock.” Bri’s eyes widen, but Ruby’s not done. “Now you can keep track of how much cum you can swallow before your bony ass gets a shape.”

Ruby hears Jax attempt to stifle a laugh as she walks away. It’s then that she hears a member shout from the door of the clubhouse.

“Jackie! We need ya outside brutha!” the scottman’s tone indicating that it’s urgent.

Jax immediately runs outside, along with a couple of members. Bri shoots daggers at Ruby with her eyes but doesn’t make a move towards her, instead heading to the bar. Smart bony ass bitch.

Wanting some water but not caring to go round two with Bri, Ruby heads to the small kitchen off the main room. Searching the cabinets, she finally grabs a glass and fills it up with the tap water from the sink. Turning around, she leans against the counter and takes a sip. 

How did I get here? 

She shakes her head. No. You can’t do this here. You need to keep your head in the game, Jolene. Get your shit together.

Jo takes a deep breath and sets her glass in the sink. 

All right, let’s do this.

She takes a step out of the kitchen when she hears a scream and tires screeching. She looks around and notices a little blonde boy all alone, no older than two. 

Then she hears gunshots. 

Glass shattering.

More screams.

Absolute chaos.

And the boy is in the middle of all of it. 

No.

Jo makes a run for the boy, dodging other Diosa girls and croweaters in her path. Once she makes it to him, she picks him up and drops to the ground, crouching behind a table. Shots are firing from the outside in, bullets and shattered glass flying everywhere. 

The boy is crying, but remains still underneath Jo, her body caging him in protection. She squeezes her eyes shut and murmurs encouragement to him. She doesn’t even know what she’s saying but she hope it helps. Glass is on the floor, digging into Jo’s arms, but she doesn’t dare move.

After what seems like an eternity, the gunshots stop. The chaos seems to settle down. Distraught cries replace the screams in the disheveled clubhouse.

The main doors burst open, members pouring through, with Jax leading.

“ABEL!”

“ABEL!”

The little boy squirms from Jo’s grasp and moves his little legs as fast they can carry him. “Daddy!” 

Jax spots him and bends down to scoop his son up, holding him close to his chest. Jo makes the connection as she sees the reunion from her position still crouched on the floor.

The last thing Jo sees is Jax peering at her from over the boy’s shoulder before her vision goes black.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

A/N: So this is my first OC story that I’m trying! Hopefully it’s clear that when she’s more herself she’s Jo and when she’s in ‘work’ mode she’s Ruby. Please let me know what you think!

Jax Tag List: (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!) jenny885, melissataggart87, misssara1981, lokilvrr, innerpaperexpertcloud, alievans007, calirindo, leapingoveroblivion, curly-minnie, coffeebooksandfandom, mrsjaxtellerfan, mrspeacem1nusone

[jaxteller87]

butterfly part 3

A few weeks had passed since we had taken the kids to the field. I saw Amber sitting on the back patio with ice tea in her hand. She had getting her hair done today, with the colors of a sunflower.

“Hey Teller,” she smiled as I walked over to sit down next to her.

“How’s my girl doing today?” I smiled back at her and took her hand in mine before kissing it.

“Really good,” she squeezed my hand as her smile grew a little wider.

“How long have they been sitting here?” I nodded towards the two bright blue and yellow butterflies resting on the table in front of us.

“About 5 minutes, I think.”

We watched them in silence for a few seconds before one of them took off and landed on my nose. Amber laughed and stayed as still as she could before taking out her phone.

“You only show this picture to our little princess, got it?” I said as still as possible.

“Got it,” she laughed as she snapped the picture. The butterfly flew over and landed on her leg instead. “Well hello there little guy,” she smiled.

“Forgive me if it’s a stupid question Amber, but how do you know it’s a sign from Mary and not just a random butterfly?” I asked curiously.

“That’s not a dumb question,” she kissed my hand and took a deep breath, “about five years ago or so, I learned that how long they stay around and how many there are . Like right now when there’s two, I think it’s just Mary saying hello, but when there’s a bunch of them, I feel like she’s trying to tell me that everything is going to be okay.”

“And she’s right about that, everything will be okay,” I moved my seat to be able to sit in front of Amber instead of next to her. “I know you’re having a hard time going on meds, but it doesn’t make you a failure, Amber. You will never be a failure, and I’m not saying that as your husband or even as your badass biker,” I chuckled and it made her laugh too. “I’m saying it as your best friend, who is here to catch you and who’s here through all your ups and downs in life. You always get up, no matter how hard you fall,” I took her face in my hands.

“I’m on these meds, so that my brain doesn’t tell me that you’ll get sick of me and leave. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

“Yes, but if it’s working… it’s still working, right?” I asked curiously.

Amber nodded with her forehead rested against mine. “I love you, Jackson,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t have made it this far, if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’d do it all over again, babe,” I smiled.

 Later that night after putting Thomas to bed, I walked in to find both my girls sitting on the floor Indian style.

“What are you guys up to?” I asked Mary.

“Meditating,” Mary said and opened one of her eyes.

“Oh well, can I join?” I smiled.

“I don’t know… mama, can daddy do it with us?”

“Sure he can,” Amber whispered trying not to laugh.

I carefully sat down in front of Amber, she opened one of her eyes and mouthed ‘I love you’.

“Oooom,” I said as I sat with my legs crossed.

“Daddy ssshh, that’s not how you do it,” Mary hissed.

“Oh sorry.”

“Little miss sassy pants,” Amber giggled under her breath.

“Mama shh, I’m trying to concentrate,” Mary hissed again.

“Ooh, you just got yelled at,” I chuckled under my breath.

“I know,” Amber giggled and we fought hard to not bust out laughing.

 In bed later that night, I was holding Amber close to my bare chest and every so often stealing a kiss or kissing her forehead.

“I have no idea where she gets that sassiness from,” Amber laughed.

“Both of us,” I answered promptly with a smile.

“Yeah I guess,” Amber said.

“I meant to tell you earlier, that I love your now hair, babe.”

“You do? I was worried how I would like the two colors, when I usually only go for one…”

“Don’t worry babe, it looks great and most importantly you’re happy with it,” I kissed her temple.

“It really does,” she looked up at me with that gorgeous smile.

 The next day I got home from work early. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked into the bedroom to see Amber sitting on the floor meditating. I unbuttoned a few of the buttons on my shirt and quietly walked in the room. I sat my beer down on the nightstand and sat down in front of her. I sat there for a long time before Amber broke the silence.

“You’re not going to make fun of me as usual?” she chuckled with one eye open.

“Nah, not this time,” I chuckled.

“I still can’t believe how into it Mary got the other night, it was hysterical,” Amber giggled opening both her eyes.

“It really was, she’s a smart girl.”

I looked Amber in the eyes with a smirk on my face. I could tell she knew what was coming, as I tackled her to the floor covering her face in kisses causing her to laugh. “Jax,” she hissed playfully.

I hovered over her with a hand on the floor on either side of her head.

“I’m so happy you’re my husband,” she laughed.

“And I’m happy you’re my wife.”

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 18

"See she's telepathic Call it black girl magic Yeah she scares the gov'ment Deja Vu of Tubman

We go missing by the hundreds Ain't nobody checkin for us Ain't nobody checkin for us…"

"Blk Girl Soldier" – Jamila Woods

The morning is a whirlwind of activity and excitement.

Negra Lia and her entire family had a catered breakfast at her parent's house near the polling site where the family would cast their votes. N'Jobu watched Erik prance around in his new t-shirt and new black khakis. Califia untwisted his hair and let him rock a 'fro to match hers. Erik was a Mama's boy, and N'Jobu couldn't fault him for it. Especially when your mother was a badass.

A priest from the local church came by the house and gave Lia a blessing prior to everyone tucking into the gourmet breakfast. A TV played in the background and everyone caught the news coverage of polling stations having long lines. Lia had captured the imagination of the young, Black, disenfranchised, working poor, and the queer community. Although it was just the city council, N'Jobu sensed that the people in the community saw Lia as their champion, that perhaps with her unapologetic Blackness and her support for them and their needs, that real change was a possibility. She was a local girl who made good. City council was just the start. The energy pouring out in the streets and on TV was just the beginning of a new day in Sao Paulo politics. Axiel and other supporters were sponsoring carpools to help get people in the favelas to their polling places. Lia looked happy but also worried. When she stepped outside to get some air, N'Jobu followed her.

"How are you holding up?" he asked while sipping on orange juice.

Lia's eyes were coal black, the eyes of someone who could take the world by the throat and shift it on its axis. Her hair was wrapped in a yellow headwrap and the shade of raisin brown lipstick she wore complimented her glowing skin.

"I'm feeling the pressure," she said.

"You have this on lock," he said.

"I don't want to disappoint them if I don't win. They all have their hopes and dreams pinned to me, and I can't fail them again," she said. For the first time, her eyes looked vulnerable and unsure. He moved closer to her.

"No matter what, you have inspired the people around you to strive for more power to help themselves. All these young people…they are on fire."

"I hope they can carry on and stay invested in politics if this doesn't go the way they want."

"They will."

Lia gave a deep sigh and rubbed the back of her neck.

"The problem we have is waiting for some great savior to come down and fix everything. There can't be one leader. There have to be many, in all communities…when we put our hopes into one person we often get into trouble."

"What would you like to see happen?"

Lia glanced out at the street and clasped her hands in front of her thighs.

"Black strongholds all over the world. Many leaders…many women…. running communities and connecting together, sharing ideas on what works and doesn't work to help us move forward as a people. Less in-fighting and power grabbing or even clout chasing…."

She spoke in Portuguese for a second to find the right English word and then she stared at N'Jobu.

"I want heaven on earth for all of us right now. No more struggling just to survive. We need to thrive and flourish. All of us in the diaspora…on the continent from where we came from too. Free education, free healthcare, affordable housing for all…prison reform and then abolition. Transformative justice. That is my dream…no, those are my goals."

"Big goals."

She smiled and tapped her head.

"Ah, but if we put our mind to it, we can do it. I just have to play my part. Right now, city council…next time something bigger."

She shook her hands with nervous energy. "We should go to the polls now," she said.

N'Jobu took her hand and squeezed it. He spoke to her in Wakandan and her eyes glanced at his lips for a second when she heard him give a click with his tongue.

"What did you say?"

"I'll tell you after you win," he teased. She gave him a playful tap on his shoulder and he followed her back inside the house.

"Are we ready to leave?" She asked everyone inside. Her boyfriend Oscar grabbed his car keys and everyone divided up into the car groupings they would go in over to the polls. N'Jobu and his family were riding with Lia's parents in their minivan. Their small caravan pulled out and N'Jobu could feel Erik's excited energy as he sat next to him. Califia chatted with Lia's parents and N'Jobu watched the scenery out of the car window.

"Mom told me you have to leave early," Erik said. They were sitting in the back of the mini-van.

"I do."

"Why?"

"Some things came up at work and I have to solve some problems there."

Erik's eyes went to his beads.

"Mom looked sad when she told me. Are you guys okay?"

N'Jobu was taken aback by his question.

"What made you ask that?"

He shrugged.

"Mom looks happy most of the time, but this morning she kept looking at you and…I dunno…she looked kinda sad. Did you have a fight last night, Baba?"

N'Jobu glanced up toward the front of the minivan. Califia and Lia's parents were busy speaking loud Portuguese and ignoring the back of the car.

"No. We didn't have a fight. She is sad that I can't go to the museum with you on Friday. She likes us all being together and she doesn't want me to miss Aunt Lia winning."

Erik smiled.

"Auntie Lia is going to be a President one day."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Erik's nose scrunched up as he thought about the question. He looked like Califia at that moment.

"A computer designer and programmer with my own company. Or an architect."

"Hmmm, I thought maybe you might want to be an archeologist or a scientist—"

"Oh yeah, those too."

N'Jobu rubbed his son's head. His brilliant little boy.

"You can be whatever you want to be, my Son."

The minivan pulled into the parking lot of an elementary school. N'Jobu saw that the line to vote wrapped around the building. He slipped on his dark glasses and pulled a baseball cap on his head. There was a news crew waiting by the entrance. N'Jobu hung back behind the reporters and out of the way, blending in with the background. Two male news reporters thrust mics in front of Lia's face, cameras bright and close.

N'Jobu didn't know what they were saying, but he was sure it had to be about her casting her vote and her hopes for the outcome. Califia and Erik stood to the side with Marisol and Aunjanue.

Lia's parents, Soliel, and her friends stood in line to cast their support and Lia herself was filmed being escorted into the polling booth directly so she could vote. It didn't take her long to go inside the private booth and make her choices. When she came out, she flashed the peace sign on both hands and the crowd of people waiting in line clapped. Lia walked to the end of the line to join her family. Califia left Erik with Aunjanue and Marisol and sauntered over to the background where he was standing and watching. She clasped her hand in his.

"This is it," she said.

He nodded.

"Oscar said he can give you a ride to the airport tomorrow."

N'Jobu put his arm around her and pulled her in tight so that she was against his chest. He kissed her forehead.

"Lia is lucky to have you rooting in her corner. I saw all the work you put into helping her campaign. Organizing the young people, working on her social media and every little detail to make this a success. This is a win for you too."

She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I wish I didn't have to go," he whispered to her.

"We'll be back in Oakland with you soon enough."

She tilted her head up and puckered her lips. He kissed her and felt her body relax against him.

They both turned to watch the voters make their way through the line.

N'Jobu thought of Califia's work in Oakland. He thought of her activism there and the need she had to change what was around her. It mirrored Lia in so many ways. Soliel was the same way, her activism focused on protecting the fragile same-sex rights that had been hard won since she had married Aunjanue and gave birth to Marisol. For N'Jobu, it felt like an unfair burden to carry. These women could not live comfortable lives or even live for themselves without external pressure encroaching on their right to life and liberty. They couldn't be happy unless all were happy.

He hated to admit that he wished Califia didn't use so much of her time worrying about others when they were first reunited. But it was the thing that made her who she was. If she weren't that way, how different would she be? Would he have fallen in love with her?

The first time he had ever saw her was in the middle of her bursting into a room bringing a righteous energy to a crowd and encouraging them to protest a racist writer. If she had been a typical university student talking to him about her classes and who made the best coffee for cramming sessions, he may have overlooked her. But she came in like the fire of Sekmet with her form-hugging biker clothes and daggers in her eyes. His old lover Andrea had caught his interest with a fat ass and compliant nature, but Califia's sharp tongue and call to the masses had won his heart. After that, she was always on his mind. Even when he was juggling women back in the day, getting his dick wet as much as he could because he could, it was Califia and her assertive drive to shape the world that forced him to turn her way. Her influence on him over the years changed him and his worldview. She was the catalyst for him finally admitting to himself that he wanted out of the palace. He wanted a life of his own, but to have that life, it meant looking out for the life of others in a more profound way.

He could freely admit that his woman gave him new eyes. And those new eyes turned to look at his own country and really allowed him to see how seclusion and secrecy was…what? Wrong? Selfish? Without her, would he be sitting in the palace now with Zinzi looking no further outside of Wakanda except for the occasional trips he would have to make to the U.N. and worrying about nothing so pressing as to what he would wear to a royal event? Would he have children that were nothing like Erik, who expected things to be handed to them because they had wealth and protection?

N'Jobu watched his son as he spoke to Lia and Marisol, and a chill ran through him. His little boy was so much more than what his own nephew T'Challa could ever be. His nephew lived in a bubble just as N'Jobu had lived. It was an extreme world of privilege, high-tech, and insular thinking. It was also a small world that had the capacity to make one not have empathy. This was the thing that Califia gave him. The tipping point that shifted his mind. He was sympathetic to the troubles of people outside of Wakanda when he first arrived in America, but honestly, beyond that, it wasn't his problem or concern. Califia taught him empathy. And this made him look outward.

It shook him to his core at that moment to know that she made him free. Made him want more for others. Especially for her and their son.

N'Jobu squeezed Califia's waist and let his chin rest in her hair.

Bast be a rock.

They were inside the local community center that Soliel created. It was a small building that served a vibrant neighborhood and it was packed with supporters.

Califia was drinking an overly sweet punch when the final vote was tallied and Lia received the phone call that she had won her seat on the city council. They all watched Lia cover her face with her hands after she burst into tears. Her boyfriend Oscar scooped her up and her family clamored for hugs. Marisol and Erik hugged Lia's waist as she stared around the room, her face full of shock.

N'Jobu stood next to Califia and his smile was so big and bright, she could only grab onto his arm and squeeze his bicep. Lia ran to her and Soliel and threw her arms around them both in a big hug.

"This couldn't be done without you two," Lia said. When she stood back, her face looked like it had really registered that her political career was beginning. All the talks over wine and food late into the night over years of strategic planning to win over minds and canvassing the neighborhood had paid off. Her foot was in the door. Now all she had to do was stick to her convictions and push reform. Within the hour of winning, Lia was outside the center giving a victory speech to reporters, her face back on tv again. The entire neighborhood felt like it had won. Califia and N'Jobu watched her speech from inside on the tv with Califia translating for him.

"She is talking about her critics hating her left-leaning politics and how her opponent, that asshole Nobrega, will no longer be allowed to hide his cover-up of extrajudicial killings by police officers in the favelas…"

They could hear the crowd of supporters outside cheering Lia's words about the police and city corruption. Nobrega was a former cop turned politician, and N'Jobu thought he had the face of a mindless weasel. He was racist, homophobic, and a champion of militias and right-wing extremism. Throughout the campaign, he kept referring to Lia as a troublesome black rat who would damage the city. An ugly little man in N'Jobu's eyes. He overheard Erik calling him "mancha de merda" to Marisol at the Catalina restaurant, and Califia looked shocked that he said that and reprimanded him at the table. When he asked Califia what Erik had said, she whispered in his ear, "Our son called him a shit stain." N'Jobu had laughed.

There was a small party at Lia's house that evening out on the patio, and part of the time was spent with Califia and Erik watching N'Jobu pack his things. They had finally put the mattress back on the box spring and Califia and Erik sat on the bed.

"Tomorrow we'll be at the swearing in and then the luncheon until one, and then we'll head back here for dinner. My Dad said to call him when you get into Atlanta and he'll be at the airport waiting for you," she said as she watched him pack away a few shirts and some souvenirs.

Erik kept watching her face and she wondered why he was so intent on being so hugged up near her. He was doing the same to N'Jobu.

"You okay, JaJa?" she asked him while rubbing her hand on his curls.

He nodded, but he gave furtive glances to his father.

"What is it, Son?" N'Jobu said sitting on the other side of Erik.

They both saw two tears run down both sides of Erik's face and then he was pressing his head against Califia's chest. She put a protective arm around him.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want Baba to leave."

"I'm just going for work—"

Erik shook his head against Califia.

"Something's wrong," he wailed and Califia patted his back to try and calm him down.

N'Jobu pulled Erik away from Califia and held his chin with his hand forcing the boy to look his way.

"Speak," N'Jobu said.

"It doesn't feel good—"

"What doesn't feel good?" N'Jobu said wiping Erik's face.

"You guys. It feels different."

"What are you worried about?" Califia asked. Her eyes had glanced over at N'Jobu's and he looked as puzzled as she felt. But Erik was sensitive that way. He always had the ability to feel their tensions.

"Baba leaving us so early all of a sudden. And you were crying this morning when Baba took a shower. I saw you, Mom. Baba's phone was vibrating on the kitchen table and you looked at it and started crying…are you breaking up? Is Baba leaving us?"

Califia was horrified. Her baby saw her crying over her fears and thought his family was disintegrating. The look on N'Jobu's face hurt her also. When his eyes reached hers, he was now aware that she had been checking his phone. His locked phone. Califia couldn't even find the words to speak.

"No one is breaking up, JaJa. Dry your eyes. Your mother and I will always be together."

She stared at N'Jobu. There was no lie in his eyes.

"You've been worrying about that all this time today?" she asked.

He nodded, a small shudder of air leaving his lips as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. She should've been more aware of how she was acting around her son. All of her focus had been on N'Jobu and that damn cell phone, and she had unintentionally telegraphed divorce to her baby. She held him close to her and kissed his forehead.

"We are fine—"

"But why were you crying?"

"I always miss your father whenever he leaves us. I'm just sadder now because I want him to be here to help us celebrate Aunt Lia. He's going to miss out on all the cool stuff we're going to do—"

"Yes," N'Jobu said jumping in to clean up her mess, "No museum. I can't go see the Gato waterfall with you and Marisol on Friday. Your Mom was looking forward to that, so now we'll have to do it the next time we come down-"

"And your father's phone is always ringing and disturbing him. I was upset that he will have to work early and not play with us."

Erik's chest stopped heaving and his face was now just puffy and not wet with tears.

"Feel better?" N'Jobu asked.

"Yeah," Erik said still leaning into Califia.

"Afonso said that his mom cried a lot before his Dad left them. He doesn't get to see his Dad anymore," Erik said.

Afonso was a neighborhood kid that played with Marisol.

"We are fine. You will see me back home. Give me a hug," N'Jobu said.

Erik practically leaped onto his father and Califia felt her chest heaving a bit. N'Jobu stroked the back of Erik's head, but when his eyes met hers this time, they were solemn.

"JaJa, come on!" Marisol yelled from the small livingroom.

"Your mother and I are going to talk, okay?" N'Jobu said.

Erik jumped up kissing N'Jobu's cheek and then quickly hugged Califia before he ran out to play with Marisol and Afonso. Lia had turned on music and the noise outside let them know there were more people around to give their congratulations.

Alone, Califia felt like a small gulf had sprung between her and N'Jobu.

"Checking my phone?"

She nodded, feeling her eyes well up.

N'Jobu stood up and locked the new bedroom door. He sat back down next to her.

"I do not want to see my son crying like that ever again," he said.

She couldn't tell by his voice if he was angry or upset, or even sad. His eyes were on hers and their intensity overshadowed anything else.

"I do not want you looking at my phone and wondering about my intentions or who is calling me."

He took off his shirt and slipped off his shoes and socks.

"I do not want to see you crying over me because of something you've imagined I've done to cause you harm…"

He slipped out of his pants and underwear. When he was completely naked, he widened his legs.

"Take off your clothes," he said. It was a command.

She stood up and pulled her blouse and bra off. He held her hand for balance when she kicked off her heels and pulled off her pants and bikini underwear.

Helping her straddle his lap, N'Jobu held the back of her neck with his hand.

"You have to trust me. I'm your man. Just yours. I have to take this fear out of you," he said. His voice changed.

"Califia Stevens, you belong to me. You are the mother of my son. Yours is the only bed I belong in. Understand?"

He moved his hips under her and she reached out to hold onto him. He lifted her up to adjust his penis under her so that it rested tucked between her folds, soft and warm, not even erect.

"Kiss me," he said.

She placed her lips on his and the heat from his mouth made her open hers wide to accept his thick wet tongue. His other hand held her waist and she could feel him growing underneath her. She bounced for him and his kisses became deeper.

"Our son can't cry like that anymore," he said.

His reached up and fondled her nipples, plucking them until they were stiff beneath the tips of his fingers. He looked down between her legs.

"Get that pussy ready for me," he whispered to her. He slipped his tongue around the outer shell of her ear and she could feel his warm breath hitch as her plumped up clit and ring dragged across his tip.

"Oh…girl…just like that…just like that…get that fat pussy ready for me…just me…"

She was getting wet so fast, his voice easing her pussy open…

"There it is…I see it…that look…you got Daddy's pussy together, huh?"

She groaned into his neck and he laughed at her. "Yes, you are ready for me. Dripping all on my lap…"

Laughter outside distracted her for a moment. The music was infectious and the smell of rich foods permeated the air. Lia was talking to someone over her cell phone.

His lips trapped hers again and his deep kisses engulfed any control she had over her mind and body. By the time he let her come up for air from his mouth, she was whimpering into his collar bone and her thighs were slickening his thighs with her wetness.

"You ready to sit on my dick?"

His grip was on her waist. She whispered yes into his neck but it came out like a long breathy sigh. He gripped his erection with his hand.

"Slide down this pipe, girl."

He lifted her up and she widened her thighs and slipped her fingers between her legs to guide him inside of her. She sat on him slowly and his breath became little puffs of warm air upon her neck. He kept still once her ass sat on his balls. The walls in the room vibrated with the sound of music and talking and laughter from outside. They heard Erik speaking to Andres and Soliel, and there were occasional shouts from down below on the street from people sending words of support and pride at Lia's win.

Califia shifted forward on his lap and started lifting up and down on him.

"I don't want you to worry about me being back home by myself," he grunted, his hands gripping her sides. His voice went deeper in tone as the sound of skin on skin slapping together drowned out the noise outside.

"When you come back, I'll bring you to my apartment. I'll let you get in my bed…"

Her eyes stayed on his, her lips puckered and wanting his mouth.

"I'm not fucking anyone else but you—"

She exhaled and kept her movement on his lap controlled so that the bed didn't move that much.

He lifted up from the bed with her still on his erection and moved to put her on her back on the edge of the mattress. He spread her legs and leaned over her, his thickness sliding in and out of her with a slow gentle rhythm.

"Is this what you're worried about?" he asked. His sack was like a plush gift slapping against her cheeks.

"You think someone else is getting this in my bed when I'm away from you?"

Her eyes rolled back and she turned her head to the side. She couldn't look him in the face as her pussy throbbed with just the thought of him with someone else. It was a perverse pleasure to imagine his dick hitting some other woman's spot the right way. Serah called him grade A dick and didn't mind sharing him. She could not, but it turned her on imagining the act.

"Ohhhh," he said trying to keep quiet in the room as he held her legs up.

He looked down at her and she knew he was not keeping his control with the way his face was getting tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching each time he entered her folds.

"Damn, I'm stretching this shit out," he gasped. He thrust forward and laid on top her, letting her take his full weight. The bed was groaning from their movement. She pushed up on his chest and he pulled out of her. He squeezed his balls as he watched her stand up and bend over for him, her hands pressed on the mattress.

He grabbed his cock and inserted himself back in her and soon enough he had her sucking on the sheets with her mouth trying to hide her yelps. He was having a difficult time keeping the sounds of his pleasure to himself.

"I have to fuck this good pussy… real well….I won't have it for a week…ohhhhhh…I feel you coming already…I feel you," he gritted out.

She screamed into the sheets, her hands gripping the cotton tight.

"Cum in me," she begged, her head turned to look back at him, "your dick feels amazing."

He made a sound that gave her shivers.

"I'm ready to bust—"

"Cum in your pussy—"

"Damn—"

"Nut in this pussy…"

His hand pressed down on her lower back. She rocked her ass cheeks on him.

"Bast!" he shouted and she felt him hold still as his cock spasmed in her walls. She sighed as his load kept pumping into her. Collapsing onto the bed, he pulled out from her easy, still dripping cum from his tip.

He plopped down next to her and reached above her head. He brought his cell to her face. She watched him unlock his phone.

It was always hard leaving them.

N'Jobu gave Erik and Califia tons of kisses and it was never enough. Lia's boyfriend waited patiently by his car as N'Jobu bid farewell to everyone. When he hugged Lia tight, her bright eyes made him feel blessed to know her.

"Now will you tell me what you said the other day?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

He smiled.

"When sleeping women wake, mountains move. And do not forget, however long the night, the dawn will break," he said.

"Hmmm. I like that. Thank you for being here with your family and for supporting me. We will have a good time for their last week."

"When you get some time, come visit us," he said.

"I will."

He hugged her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"JaJa," he said and Erik jumped up in his arms. He hugged and rocked his son in his arms.

"Look after your mother. Be a good boy and I'll see you soon."

He leaned over and kissed Califia.

"You better get going, you have to be there early for international flights," Califia said.

Her face looked peaceful. They were back on track.

"Me and you in my apartment. I'll get Dante to watch Erik," he whispered. He saw her eyes twinkle.

Waving to his family and friends, N'Jobu enjoyed the drive with Oscar as they moved away from the favela and he had the opportunity to watch the scenery. He found a flight that could get him into Atlanta at a decent time. If he had to, he would contact T'Chaka there and feed him the story he sent his parents via email about attending a bachelor party. He just needed to be on American soil as soon as possible.

Once he was back in his apartment, he would start getting background info on Ulysses Klaue. And if D'Beke found that N'Jobu had enough War Dogs converted to his side, he would start planning to subvert policies back home. It would take time.

The airport was busy and his flight was delayed.

He sat in a crowded section where his gate was and watched travelers come and go. He had a couple of hours to kill, so he read a book from his burner cell to pass the time. He was looking forward to sleeping on the plane and made plans in his mind to keep busy while he was separated from Erik and Califia.

The chatter of voices around him lulled him to close his eyes.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he fell asleep and was jolted awake by the gasp of the Black woman sitting next to him.

His eyes shot open, and he couldn't make out what the woman was saying in Portuguese. Other travelers were stopping and watching the tv above them. It was a chaotic scene and a female reporter was pointing to a car in the distance behind her.

"What's happening?" N'Jobu asked a white man behind him who spoke English to his companion.

"I'm not sure," the man said.

The woman next to him covered her mouth with her hands.

Eyes back on the tv, Lia's picture appeared. It was a photo of her voting at the school. A clip played of her speaking outside of the community center after she won. N'Jobu walked swiftly to his flight gate and questioned the brown-skinned attendant who also had her eyes glued to the tv.

"Excuse, me. What is happening?"

The woman's eyes were wide and her lip trembled.

"That woman who was voted into office was…she was just killed—"

N'Jobu felt his gut lurch and he immediately dialed Califia's number. She wasn't picking up. Eyes bolted back to the tv, the news showed shocked faces of people wandering around in a daze. One young Black woman was shown sitting in the street wailing.

N'Jobu looked for any signs of Califia or Erik, or anyone he recognized because they were with Lia.

"Two people were killed," he heard the second gate attendant tell another traveler next to him.

Califia was still not picking up. All he knew was Erik and Califia rode with Lia and Soliel to the luncheon.

Two people dead.

Panic clutched his throat. He grabbed his carry-on bag and walked quickly toward the ground floor. His eyes were blurry and he was running by the time he made it outside of the airport.

Luck was with him and he snagged a cab right away. He gave directions to the cabbie to head for the community center. He couldn't remember the luncheon address because his mind was a rush of negative fear-bound thoughts.

The cabbie had the radio on and N'Jobu heard Lia's name mentioned.

"Do you speak English?" N'Jobu asked. His voice sounded high-pitched and frantic.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what the radio is saying about what happened to the new Council Woman. Lia—"

"Oh, oh, she was shot and killed…"

N'Jobu's hands shot up to the top of his head. He still couldn't reach Califia and his body was shaking.

"Who shot her?"

The cabbie listened to the radio.

"What the fuck are they saying, man?!"

The cabbie was startled by his anger, his lips grew tight.

"She was leaving from somewhere and when she was in her car, someone pulled up and shot into the car…uh…she was killed…and…and they say her driver was killed too…many people seriously injured who were running away…"

He sent Califia a text, and then he tried calling Soliel. No one was picking up. He didn't have Lia's parent's number. That was in Califia's phone.

The soldier in him bucked up. He sat back in the seat. He couldn't fathom what was happening and he had no control on how to get to his family any faster. Califia could hold it down. She would protect Erik.

But who would protect her if he wasn't there?

He closed his eyes…and felt his kimoyo beads heat up on his wrist.

Chapter 19 HERE.

[dujourmeans]

all kids are weird in one way or another. it's just that some remain weird through their lives. for these ten kids: being weird has never been simply a trait for them, it's been a way of life. though each may have had unique starts from one another, it was the start of middle school that provided to be life changing for each of the ten. after years spent navigating the sleepy neighborhood area that they were raised in, the ten came together due to a shared ... interest in a local urban legend that was beginning to pick up steam. their goal was to try and figure out where it was coming from, but not everything is to be solved. they never ended up being successful in their pursuit (despite what some of them like to say), but they did end up sticking together throughout the rest of their middle and, soon after, high school days. though each of the ten were unique in their own right, some even falling into different social cliques, they always came back together and developed somewhat of a rep as the local "cool" weird kids. (though, admittedly, some of them were treated worse by people outside of their crew than others, but that's another story for another day.) they did everything that they could to keep both their crew active and comradery alive: from launching their own local podcast, to youtubing their "adventures", to throwing awesome halloween parties yearly. "cool" weird kids? yeah. that was truly the best way to refer to them, and it still is, but with adulthood comes complication, and they have been faced with coming-of-age related angst that none of them have tried to make too big of a deal out of. for example? while some chose to stay local for university (or didn't choose to attend at all), others left town to go to school elsewhere or just chose to leave the town altogether. even with distance though, they've tried their hardest to come together as often as possible to hang out and do what they do best, even if it means having to road trip to meet one of them. lately though, whisperings of a new creepy local legend has had their ears perk high for the first time in awhile and, well, temptation is running pretty high for an old school investigation ... requirements: though they're not required to have lived in bellow falls since birth, they've lived in the town since at least middle school. › they all lived in the same neighborhood as each other. › they were all in the same school year. › they're either nineteen or recently twenty (so: their birthdate would fall sometime between september 1998 - august 1999). › they're big weirdos in one way or another (but that's kinda obvi). (also: yes, they did steal their name from are you afraid of the dark?)

the kids

› mathilda larson ›› adorkable, deadpan snarker, gadgeteer genius, hollywood nerd, meganekko, pint-sized powerhouse, sesquipedalian loquaciousness, the smart girl ›› taken by britt › girl #2 ›› cute clumsy girl, damsel in distress, designated victim, the ditz, the heart, ms. fanservice, spoiled sweet, the fashionista ›› taken by emily › girl #3 ›› action girl, badass adorable, biker babe, clingy jealous girl, girly bruiser, little miss badass, mama bear, the heroine ›› taken by june › aj jeong ›› gamer chicker, girly girl with a tomboy streak, jerk with a heart of gold, little miss snarker, manic pixie dream girl, one of the boys, here, here ›› taken by piper › girl #5 ›› alpha bitch, the cheerleader, screw the rules: i have money, bratty teenage daughter, it's all about me, large ham, comical overreacting, the stoic ›› open › boy #1 ›› butt monkey, classical anti-hero, cowardly lion, crouching moron / hidden badass, the lancer, new age retro hippier, the stoner, here ›› open › boy #2 ›› the all-american boy, brainless beauty, cloudcuckoolander, clueless detective, the generic guy, lovable jock, here, here ›› open › boy #3 ›› hot-blooded, street smart, sugar-and-ice personality, the game master, the hero, the leader, took a level in jerkass, undying loyalty ›› taken by ada › boy #4 ›› ditzy genius, heroic self-deprecation, innocently insensitive, nice guy, nightmare fetishist, plucky comic relief, unwitting instigator of doom, the smart guy ›› taken by mj › boy #5 ›› team dad, gentle giant, mr. fanservice, no poker face, brilliant but lazy, bunny ears lawyer, motor mouth, the storyteller ›› open