#black brown unity

[mannyblacque]

Source: Aranivah | Links

[thesirenisles]

daughters of the sun.

[blackbrownfamily]

John Brown

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Ok so, a little bit of context behind this. Erica Mena, a mixed latina, called Spice, a dark skinned black woman, a monkey along with blue monkey. Then wished her death.

I just want y’all to peep how the BW defending Erica calling Spice a monkey sound like.

It went from “Black people come in all shades and colors!” To “The monkeys are all shades and colors too! If you call a black person a monkey, it’s not a racial epithet!”

Like-

Here’s a helpful article about Erica Mena and the clip of her yelling monkey at Spice

@thisismisogynoir

Also, question to the Afro-latinas who see this, do y’all even see Erica as Afro-latina ? Considering she says she’s Afro-Latina

[realjaysumlin]

For Black Americans, Race is Central to Identity and Affects How They Connect With Each Other | Pew Research Center

So many people really believe in the idea of scientific racism which is the belief that certain races are inherently superior or inferior to others based on supposed biological and genetic differences, has had a profound negative psychological effect on Black Indigenous People globally.

This type of belief in scientific racism perpetuates harmful stereotypes and reinforces racist attitudes towards Black Indigenous People. By dehumanizing and pathologizing us as being inherently inferior, it contributes to the justification of discrimination, violence, and systemic oppression. This can lead to internalized racism and feelings of worthlessness, shame, and inadequacy among Black Indigenous People, impacting their mental health and well-being.

Furthermore, scientific racism has been used to justify colonialism, slavery, and other forms of exploitation and subjugation of Black Indigenous People. This affects our children from generations to generations unless we put an end to it; because the shit people who call themselves white wish to keep up this stupid and crazy idea of them being superior over all humanity.

[realjaysumlin]

Wifey material. Class beauty is what I seek. This beautiful Black Lady has it all. Black on Black Love.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞 | 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

Day Twenty-Eight - Werewolf Au

【Synopsis】 : With Rogue's hot on the packs trail, Yunho had to make a tough decision. He needed to be able to know you could handle yourself even when you were away from him. So weekly training sessions became your new normal. But tonights training session went a little of course...

『Word count』 :  2.43k

-> Genre: Smut. Supernatural.    

Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : No Prep. Unprotected rough sex. Kinda public (they fuck in the woods at night). Making you. Marking and claiming. Dirty talk. Pet name. Slight primal/prey play. Mention of blood, wounds, and death.

Networks: @cromernet @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @k-vanity

Thank you @kwanisms for the yunho pic in the banner hehe. I love it so muchh ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

The moon hung high in the ink-black sky, casting a low glow over the dense forest surrounding the pack's territory. You had never imagined that you'd become a part of this world—filled with wolves, ghouls and creatures alike who held the ancient power of their own history and lineages. The warmth of the pack's care and family nature enveloped you quickly, letting you fit in quickly, but nothing compared to the electrifying bond you had with Yunho.

Your Soulmate.

Yunho was unlike anyone you'd ever met, his presence was commanding, yet tender; his laughter was infectious, and his deep-set brown eyes held a world of mystery and desire. When he revealed to you that he was a werewolf, you actually didn't believe him. You knew there had to be something more than pure attraction but when he confessed you were soulmates you almost laughed. You weren't one to put faith in fate or bonds so otherworldly, let alone the supernatural.

Him shifting into a wolf quickly changed your mind. You were both fascinated and terrified when his wet snout brushed against you in a reassuring manner. But it was a heart-stopping moment when he leaned in, burying his face in your hair, nuzzling against you as you let out a burst of loving laughter that was contagious and with that everything changed. From that day forth, you became inseparable, your connection deepening every hour and every day spent together.

However, the tranquil and quiet life—well as quiet and peaceful a life as werewolves were—What you were building with him and his pack was suddenly disrupted when whispers of rogue werewolves starting to hunt near the pack territory and soon after attacking pack members. These rogues were seeking to dismantle the bonded circle that created strength out of unity, and you, being the only human, became their prime target. Fear clawed at your chest, along with the others in the pack but it was Yunho's determination to protect you to surge forth like a fierce tide and come up with a game plan.

Train you as if you were a wolf.

Of course you wouldn't be able to shift but if you had the fighting and sensory training young pups go through then you could at least navigate to safety or block any attacks.

So every day and night blended into an exhaustive training regimen for you, your body aching from the drills he insisted upon. Yunho was relentless; he showed you how to fight, to protect yourself. Yet, one particular night, the focus of your lesson shifted from physical strength to harnessing her instincts.

“Close your eyes, Darling,” Yunho instructed, his voice a low rumble in the stillness as he stood with his arms crossed watching you closely. “Trust in your other senses.”

You followed his directive, but frustration gnawed at you as you struggled to absorb the lessons. “Yunho, it’s not working,” you sighed, exasperated. How were you ever going to use your hearing to define footsteps let alone ffind your way out of the thick forestry. You felt completely useless.

“Don’t give up,” he replied gently, stepping closer, his presence radiating strength and warmth. He loosened his arms, running his fingertips along your arm lovingly. Your heart raced as you looked around into the dense forest, your senses trying to heighten but all you could suddenly think about was the man in front of you. Trying to rely on your hearing and smell to navigate alone had been proven more difficult than either of you could anticipate. It seemed your human limitations held you back a lot more and it was growing more and more frustrating every second of this time. "You'll get there, love," Yunho reassured you, his deep voice echoing through the trees. "It just takes practice."

You sighed, your annoyance and anger in yourself was evident. But then it was like in a sudden moment of boldness, you smiled, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes as an idea popped into your head. "Remember that time you told me about your scent cravings?" You teased, your voice laced with a hint of seduction. "How your wolf goes wild when you catch my scent?" You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the comforting scent that was so uniquely him. The deep growl that grumbled deep from him made your heart skip, a reminder of the beast so close to the surface beneath his human facade. With your hands gently trailing down his firm chest, you tilted your head up to plant a playful kiss on his cheek, sweetly covering him in the smell of you.

Yunho's eyes narrowed, his wolfish nature stirring within him. "I recall," he panted lightly, his voice low and dangerous. "And I told you never to run if that happens." Your smile grew wider, your eyes sparkling with excitement as you looked up at him with desire swimming in your gaze. His breath hitched, his eyes darkening with a wild intensity. “Don’t you dare,” he punctuated every word he warned, the edge of his voice teasingly stern yet laced with underlying lust. A part of him wanted you to try. Try and run and see how you far could get. See if you could outsmart him.

With a laugh bubbling in your throat, you made a break for it, your laughter echoing through the forest as you darted between the trees, the thrill of the chase sending electricity crackling down your spine. The moment you took off, Yunho’s instincts kicked in, his eyes glowing yellow and his teeth being barred. The world around you blurred as the feral side of him unleashed, the chase transforming into a primal dance of predator and prey. Cat and mouse. Wolf and human.

Each step brought you further into the woods, the sounds of the night merging with the pounding of your heart. You could hear Yunho’s footsteps behind you, powerful and deliberate, an echo of his determination to catch you. The thrill only spurred you on, each breath a reminder of how alive you felt in this very moment. You weaved through the forest, relying on your other senses for the first time to guide you. The rustling of leaves, the faint sound of a distant stream, and the earthy scent of the forest floor—all became your allies in this game of chase. But little did you notice, Yunho was no ordinary werewolf. With lightning speed, he closed the distance between you, his powerful legs propelling him forward with need. Your heart pounded as you realised your mistake too late. You had underestimated just how fast he could be and in a blur of motion, before you could react, Yunho's arms encircled your waist, pulling you fiercely against him as you both collided into the sturdy trunk of a large elm tree. Breathless laughter spilled from your lips, but it quickly morphed into a sharp intake of breath when he pinned you there—a primal need to claim you.

In that charged moment, Yunho leaned forward, burying his face in your neck, inhaling deeply as if he wanted to savour every part of your essence. The sudden contact sent a jolt of desire through your body. Yunho's eyes blazed with an intense hunger, his wolfish instincts taking over. His sharp teeth suddenly grazed your neck, sending shivers down your spine. The sensation was electric, and you felt your body responding to his touch, your skin tingling with anticipation. “Mine,” he growled, his voice becoming guttural with need, the thrill of the chase still fresh in his eyes.

“Always,” You whispered, lost in the depth of his gaze, feeling the fervour of their bond that decorated your neck. Your breath quickened, your eyes locking with his intense gaze watching as he tried to calm himself down. But your hand found his cheek almost egging him on, "I want you to lose control, Yunho," You whispered, your voice barely audible. "I want to feel you, all of you."

Your confession caused Yunho's hands to roam over your body roughly, tearing at your clothing with an urgency fueled by his primal needs. Fabric fell to the forest floor, leaving your front bare for his fingers to trace along the curves of your waist, the swell of your breasts, and the soft skin of your inner thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You arched into his touch, your body yearning for more. To be close and away from the cold air of the evening. "You're mine," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "I’ll always protect you. No one will ever touch you.”

You didn’t know whether his words were for you or his own needs but without any other further warning, Yunho lifted you, his strong hands gripping your thighs, and positioned you against the rough bark of the tree. The cool night air caressed your exposed skin, heightening your senses feeling overwhelmed by unlocking a side of yourself you’d never thought about before until you met him... Your breath hitched as you felt his hardening cock pressing against your soaking core, a throbbing reminder of the desire coursing through him.

Pushing your torn panties off your body, feeling the burn of the fabric snapped off your sensitive skin you watch Yunho use his inhuman strength to hold you up against the tree with one hand resting under your ass while the other unzips his pants to help his cock spring free from it confinements. His glowing yellow eyes bore holes into yours as he watched your expression, looking for anything to tell him no. But when he only found need and lust he buried himself deep within you in one swift thrust. Your screams echoed into the forest, feeling yourself being stretched and filled by your wolfy boyfriend so quickly. Your body was trembling as you welcomed the invasion of this thick cock, your inner walls clenching around him in a tight embrace. The sensation was overwhelming, a raw, primal connection that sent sparks of pleasure coursing through both your and his veins. “Fuck..So..b-big…”

Yunho's movements were rough, his animalistic nature taking over as he pounded into you without another care, each thrust driving you both closer to the edge within seconds. This was unlike the care he would normally give you. the way he would normally take the time to prep you, love you, ease you. But this was different. This was quick, impatient and raw. Your nails dug into the bark, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you struggled to keep yourself grounded amidst the torrent of pleasure feeling your whole body tense up and skin be mauled by the tree behind you.

Yunho could smell your blood, smell your slick, see the sheen of sweat soaking your body dripping down to your breasts that bounce with each snap of his hips. "Oh, fuck, Yn," Yunho groaned, his voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation. "You feel so good, so tight around me."

Your head fell back, your jaw slacked as you surrendered to the sensations of painful pleasure. "Yes, Yunho," You panted, your voice laced with desperation. "Harder, please, I need you."

Yunho obliged, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he slammed into your abused cunt again and again. The rough tree bark continued to scrape against your back, adding a delicious sting to the pleasure building within you. Everything felt so animalistic, completely feral. You’ve never had such a feeling brew in the pit of your stomach and you knew it was going to become a feeling you’d be craving for the rest of your life. Your body trembled, your pussy clenching around his twitching cock, pleading for release. To milk him for his worth. He couldn’t feel you were close to the edge, reaching down to your clit to rub quick small circles causing your eyes to roll back into your skull as your tongue poked out with drool dripping down your chin.

"Cum for me, Baby," Yunho demanded, his voice thick with desire. "Let me feel you cream around my cock."

Your breath caught in your throat as the pleasure overwhelmed your being, a silent scream following. Your body trembled, every nerve ending alive with the sensation of him. With a final, powerful thrust, Yunho triggered your orgasm making your body convulse in ecstasy as you squirted all over him. Feeling the liquid run down your ass while he dripped down his thighs, staining his pants deliciously. As your high rippled through you, Yunho's own release was imminent. His thrust suddenly picked up once more, his wolfish growl filling the night air as he emptied his thick load deep within your tight sensitive pussy, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

Breathless and satisfied, they remained entwined, your heartbeat matching his as it pounded loudly into the calming night. Your body was completely glistening with sweat, your skin flushed from the intensity of your successful encounter with your lover. You finally lulled your head up so you could look at Yunho. His eyes screwed shut as he basked in the feeling of your cunt still tightly clenching around him. Your lips sought his in a passionate kiss, tasting the wildness that still lingered on his tongue. But as your hand came to cup his cheek you could feel him finally physically relax, all the pent-up adrenaline finally dying down.

“Got you,” He whispered out a playful growl, his wolf rising to the surface for a moment, eyes still vibrantly shimmering like molten gold. Yunho’s lips crashed again, against you, the feverish kiss igniting the very depths of your soul. The rawness of his need sent shockwaves through you, captivating you, reminding you of the claim you hold on one another. You melted against his broad chest, the heat of your bond swirling with the love of the moment.

As you broke apart, breaths mingling in the cool night air, you couldn’t help but smile up at him. “I think I’ve discovered my other senses,” You whispered, your heart racing as you began to giggle.

“Seems like it,” Yunho replied, his expression softening with a bright puppy-like smile. He too couldn’t help but smile, but he still held onto the edge of ferocity. “But remember, it’s not just about running. It’s about standing your ground. You’re one of us now.” The full moon shone down on you and your lover, a silent witness to the intense connection between both of you. You nodded a newfound determination solidifying within You. Together, you would face whatever darkness threatened your pack, your family.

[handweavers]

"Those who point to the lumpenproletariat as the revolutionary vanguard disregard the objective laws of historical development. In pre-capitalist societies, poverty and oppression were even greater than under capitalism. But oppression in itself, no matter how great, does not create the basis for the struggle to abolish oppression.

Because of the specific nature of exploitation under capitalism, the working class, which collectively operates the mass production process of the privately owned monopolies, is transformed into the gravedigger of the system. That is why Marx and Engels wrote in The Communist Manifesto: “Of all the classes that stand face to face with the bourgeoisie today, the proletariat alone is a really revolutionary class.”

No fundamental change—or even a challenge to the monopolists—can occur without the working class. And today the proportion of Black workers in basic industries such as steel, coal, auto, transport and others is transforming the prospects for the class struggle and Black liberation.

The degree of exploitation of Black workers is clearly much greater than that of white workers. Nevertheless, the collective form of exploitation in the decisive mass production industries is suffered by all workers. This creates the objective basis for solidarity, for their unity and leadership in the struggle against the monopolist ruling class.

At the same time, history has assigned a doubly significant role to Black workers—as the leaders and backbone of the Black liberation movement, and as a decisive component of the working class leadership of the anti-imperialist struggle as a whole.

It is the monopolists’ fear of Black, white, Brown, Yellow, Red and working class unity, which in turn can form the basis for still broader people’s unity, that is behind racism and anti-Communism, the main ideological weapons of the ruling class.

Leninism, the Marxism of the imperialist epoch, is the ideological weapon of the working class. It is the scientific guide that enables the working class to combine its struggle with national liberation movements against imperialism.

No other theory has served to free a single working class, a single people, from imperialism anywhere in the world. Beginning with the October revolution, only those guided by Marxism-Leninism have been able to free themselves from class and national oppression and take the road of socialist construction."

— "Objective Laws of Development" Henry Winston, The Crisis of the Black Panther Party (1971)

[blackbrownfamily]

[wearebarca]

1. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character

Part 1 part 2 part 3

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 3,5K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Hello, Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

Her fingers were hovering over the multitudes of cameras lined up in the bookcase of her small living room. The balcony doors were opened and the cool night air filtered in the little apartment, along with the chants and cheers of the sea of supporters passing in the streets below. Nights like these had quickly become her favourite since moving to the heart of Barcelona. She would usually sit on the balcony and watch as the supporters would celebrate their club's win, filling the night air with happiness and excitement but tonight was slightly different though. An important match was currently being disputed at the Johan Cruyff Estadi, one that all the Barcelona Femini fans were looking forward to all year. El Classico was always an electric night and Rosalie had decided to experience this night out in the streets, instead of the comfort of her balcony chair.

Once out in the streets, She was immediately hit by a wave of excitement. She was instantly  swept in a sea of chanting people, all wearing jerseys and scarves with their team's logo. The crowd was so dense that all you could see were flashes of red and blue making the task of focusing on one subject a difficult one. She finally managed to exit the crowd and find a bench near a bus stop, high enough to have a clear view of the scene unfolding in front of her. This new vantage point allowed you to take numerous portraits of fans, capturing groups of friends in the middle of drunken laughs and barça chants. She instantly knew when the final whistle was blown and Barcelona had won the match. Excited screams could be heard all around and the ground was slightly shaking from the people jumping around in an ecstatic frenzy. Rosalie lowered her camera and took a moment to soak it all in. These were the moments that reminded her of why she had chosen sports photography as her career. This feeling of unity between fans, the shared excitement and hope as well as the solidarity displayed among the supporters even during darker times. Sports was something that brought people together, made them temporarily forget about their lives. She considered herself lucky to have a job that allowed her to capture such moments. 

Once back in the safety of her apartment, she plugged her camera to her computer and while the shots she took were transferring into her laptop. She pulled out the wine bottle that was already opened and sat on her couch. Next to her was a pile of clothes that consisted of her vintage oversized brown leather jacket, a tight black t-shirt and dark brown pleated pants. She had specifically picked out this outfit for her first day in her new job. Her camera bag sat next to the pile, only her laptop missing. Everything was ready, perfectly organized, almost obsessively. The stress of this new beginning was keeping her up which led the young woman to work on the shots she had taken during the night until she fell asleep in her living room. 

The drive to the training stadium wasn’t too long. She had left incredibly early to avoid traffic and ended up parking her car at the stadium and walking around the block. It wasn’t long until she stumbled upon a small cafe, not too far from the training center. The place looked cosy and inviting with all the plants and the picture frames. Upon a closer look, she noticed that they were all pictures of what she guest was regulars enjoying their coffees. The thought of so much history hanging on these walls made the French-Canadian smile as she went to stand in line to order. 

 Her Spanish was rather shaky which made the barista and the woman behind her chuckle lightly. But nonetheless she managed to order and pay without going completely red from embarrassment.  

“Americano para Rosalie” The french name sounds so foreign when spoken in the language and Rosalie almost felt bad for the barista and made a note to herself to use her spanish nickname when ordering in the future. 

 She picked up her coffee and as she was turning around to exit the small shop, her body collided with a solid one, making her spill half of her own coffee on herself. 

“oh Déu, ho sento, estàs bé?”

A tattooed had grabbed her elbow in an attempt to stabilize her, but the damage was done. The cup that was previously secured in her hand had spilled more than half of its content on her shirt and bag.  the tattooed woman turn to her partner “ Ingrid can you grab napkins please” 

She immediately took the napkins that were handed to her and started to dab at her bag in an attempt to prevent the liquid from seeping in and mess with her equipment. Busy trying to dry the coffee that had fallen on her work bag, Rosalie had failed to notice who exactly had bumped into her, but the names mentioned during her short encounter were oddly familiar. “ Are you ok? Did any get in your bag?” A tall dark haired woman was standing right in front of you with a worried smile and Rosalie could not believe her luck. She simply shook her head and smiled at the Norwegian while throwing the napkins away. 

“ I’m Ingrid, we’re very sorry about this, Maria’s a little clumsy.” She laughed at her own statement, knowing very well that “ a little” was a bit of an understatement. 

“ It’s ok, I can’t say that I was really looking where I was going” Rosalie said as she followed Ingrid outside the cafe to a small table near the entrance.  The Spanish woman exited the shop shortly after them with a tray with four cups of coffee. 

“ Asked the barista for your order, here you go.” The Spanish woman said with an apologetic smile on her lips. 

“ Thank you, you didn’t have to do that”

“ It was only fair since this one can’t be bothered to be aware of the world around her” she said, giving a playful glare to her partner. 

“ I’m Mapi, .” . 

“Oh I know who you are,” she said with a smile on her face. She wasn’t new to the football world, having played all the way to her college years. After graduation, she had gotten herself a job as an assistant photographer in  the  NWSL in America. She had travelled all around the United-States and became one of the best known sports photographers. Three years into the job, Rosalie received a call that would change her career forever.

Arsenal W.F.C was desperately looking to revamp its image and put the club on the map. Management had come across some of Rosalie’s dynamic shots and had contacted her to offer her a spot in the new media team that would follow the girls around during the season. Seeing this as the opportunity of a lifetime, she moved across the ocean. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and she absolutely loved it. She had built her strongest friendships over there, had fallen even more in love with job and football, but also experienced her most gut wrenching heartbreak. After her breakup, she had stayed with the team to finish her contract and then packed her flat without knowing what she would do next. She knew that going back toArsenal would not be a good idea since she would have to see the face of the woman that had broken her trust everyday, so she gave her notice and left a month to go hiking in Andalucia. It would be during this trip that she would get the call from FC Barcelona Femini. She would accept on the spot and after a quick apartment search she would have all her belongings shipped to her new address and fly straight to Barcelona, without anyone knowing about her new beginning. 

“ Sorry that came out a little strong,  I’m Rosalie Marineau, Barça’s new photographer.” She shook both their hands and started the few blocks walk towards the training facility.

“ Oh it is a pleasure to meet you, we were wondering when the new photographer would start. We were all excited after seeing some of your work with Arsenal, very impressive.” 

“Thank you so much but I should be the one who’s excited, it truly is an honour to work with such a strong and dedicated team Like Barça, I really can’t wait to start.” the woman said with a beaming smile. The walk back to the stadium was filled with conversation about the upcoming season, Rosalie's career and even strayed to her college football career. As the group reached the entrance of the training grounds, a voice made itself heard in the hallway. 

“ustedes chicas llegan tarde” A tall blond was leaning against the wall right next to the locker room door. She was wearing the gray half zip training shirt with matching shorts and her hair loose, fanning over her shoulders. Her arms were crossed, her boots in one hand and a stern expression was plastered on her face. In her mind, there was no way that this woman was not the captain of this team and indeed, a few moments later, Rosalie was standing face to face with Alexia Putellas. 

“ Quince minutos antes no significa tarde, Ale” The sigh that left the Catalonian’s lips was long and the look that came with the sound would make anyone shrink right on the spot. She propped herself up and with even sparing a glance in the direction of the photographer, she turned around and entered the locker room. 

“Maria, you might want to follow her, you don’t want her getting worse.” Ingrid said, pushing her girlfriend towards the same door the blond had previously disappeared in. The Spanish woman let out a sigh of her own before also disappearing into the room. “ Come with me, I’ll show you to the management's office.”

As Rosalie had predicted, her morning was all about paperwork officializing her new position as the head of the photography department. Ingrid ended up staying the whole time and even offered to show her to her new office. The office was located on the second floor of the building, which seemed a lot calmer than the lower level. Upon entering the office, Rosalie was surprised by how spacious the place was. The space was divided into two sections. The first had all the proper equipment at her disposal to hold photoshoots. Everything was brand new and of the highest quality, with some of the equipment still wrapped in their boxes. The second was closest to the windows, which gave a perfect view of the pitch, and was  half hidden behind screens to give the feeling of being in a completely different room. A desk with two large screens and a laptop launchpad, a comfortable looking chair and a small sofa occupied the space. 

A big smile was playing on Rosalie’s lips as she took in the space she would now work in. “ I hope you will feel right at home here.” Jonatan ​​Giràldez said as he came to stand beside the photographer. “ You can set up if you’d like, I’ll send someone to collect you so you can meet the team before lunch.” He said, once again extending his hand for her to shake. “ Welcome to the family, Senorita Marineau.” 

After a quick hug from Ingrid and a promise to talk more later, Rosalie pulled out her laptop and took a seat at her new desk. Looking out at the pitch she found the two women she was hoping to see. During her contract with Arsenal, she was asked to follow some of the players to the Lionesses camp to capture their journey. That’s where she had met her closest friends. When she met Keira Walsh, it was like something in the universe clicked. The rest of the England squad used to joke that the two of them were the same person but in different fonts, and they might as well have been right. The two women had the same awkward sense of humour and were able to guest what the other needed or wanted with having to express anything. 

Upon meeting the younger French-Canadian woman, Lucy Bronze had immediately felt a strong feeling of protectiveness. This feeling grew even more when one night the Canadian woman had shared with their small friend group that she wasn’t close to her family.  Maybe it was because she knew that the girl had nobody to count on, in England or even in her home country, but the woman started to treat the younger brunette like she was part of her family. She was like a big sister to Rosalie and loved the girl fiercely. The couple had become Rosalie’s family during her years in London, but the distance made it hard for them to see each other outside of camps. Still the girls kept in touch regularly and had facetime movie nights on a weekly basis. They were in fact the first ones Rosalie had told about her move, and she would be lying if one of the big reasons why she accepted so fast was because she knew her two best friends were playing for this team. 

Setting up her stuff wasn’t long. She had brought a few picture frames, mainly pictures of her, Lucy and Keira, of her, Beth, Viv, Leah and Lia, her closest Arsenal friends, that she put on her desk and plugged her camera and laptop to the screens. She still had about an hour and a half before lunch so she decided to finish editing the pictures from the night before. 

She knew someone was making their way towards her office just by the sound of football boots on the hard floors. Still, too engrossed in her work, Rosalie did not lift her head until a very familiar voice spoke. 

“You know, if you missed us this much, you could’ve called instead of stalking us all the way here.” She could recognize that strong northern accent anywhere. Leaning against her door frame, in the same training kit that Alexia was wearing, Lucy was smiling brightly at her friend. The smile on Rosalie’s face lit up the whole room and warmed up the English woman’s heart. It had been a while since she had seen her friend with a genuine smile on her face. She almost tumbled over trying to catch the smaller woman who had jumped in her arms. 

“Shouldn’t you be training?” A quick look behind her showed the pitch empty. 

“Everyone is in the gym, we figured we’d come get you to meet everyone now.” She said dragging the girl out of her office.

“Wait a minute,” she made a beeline to her office to grab the usb key containing the picture she wanted to give the media team and followed the woman out in the corridor. 

“How are you settling here? You know, we feel bad about not helping you move.” Rosalie understood perfectly well why Keira and Lucy weren’t able to come give her a hand. With the away games, training and media duty, the women were swarmed and didn’t get a minute to themselves. Still, the lack of extra pairs of arms and someone to push her meant that a lot of boxes remained untouched. 

“Don’t worry, I’m good.” She said with a small smile. By the look the older woman was giving her, Rosalie knew that her little lie didn’t go through. But Lucy chose to drop the subject knowing that pestering her friend was not the way to go in this situation. 

“I'll show you around the training center but first, everyone is in the gym so we can start there.” She said walking ahead of the brunette. “ The trainers wanted you to know that you have access to it whenever you want and if you'd like they can help you with your training.” 

“ What do you mean?” The French-Canadian was confused as she caught up with the taller woman. 

“ Well… when the news of your arrival came out, people started to ask questions. They found out who you were through management and they apparently told the girls to talk to us because we knew you.” Lucy said in an apologetic tone. She knew that even though her friend was well known in her field, she liked to keep her life private. “ We didn’t say much, don't worry, but we have some grade A stalkers in this team.” 

“ Oh mon dieu ,what did they find?” The brunette said, hiding her face behind her hands. She didn’t have anything crazy on her social media, but she did have a couple pictures from her college football career that looked a little weird along with some pictures of her races, triathlons and marathons that were surely not her best angles. 

“ Everything darling,” Lucy said laughing, “ They especially loved the beach pictures and the triathlon ones, you made quite the impression, Frenchy.” 

The girl could not be more mortified. Those pictures were not bad. In fact, she was quite proud of them, but it was the fact that the whole team had seen her in her bikini or dying during a race before actually meeting her. She simply wasn’t a fan of the fact that they knew so much already.  But then, it was only fair, she thought, since their whole lives were plastered in tabloïds and discussed in social media all the time. The difference was that the photographer had never been in their position.

Lucy chose this exact moment to open the door leading to the gym and Rosalie’s ears were instantly flooded with rapid spanish banter and that freshly cut grass smell that she loved. The room was extremely bright due to the fact that it had direct access to the pitch, which meant that a slight breeze from the outside kept the gym cool and fresh. Almost every station was occupied by players, sometimes alone, but mostly in pairs. The first one to notice their arrival was none other than Mapi, who was helping a certain captain keeping her balance on a platform. She waved excitedly which caused the blond to lose balance and almost fall to her face. The look she sent the Zaragozian would have scared anyone in their right mind. When she realized that her look didn’t get the reaction it deserved she turned her gaze to the source of her training partner’s distraction,  only to lock eyes with the photographer. 

The contact didn’t not last long since the commotion had caught everyone’s attention. They quickly formed a half circle around the girl, seemingly waiting for her to say a few words. 

“ hola,” Rosalie wasn’t a shy person but she was definitely intimidated by the women in front of her. A smile from the couple that she had met in the morning was the little push she needed to continue. “ My name is Rosalie Marineau and I am Barça’s new head photographer. I am very excited to work with all of you. " she said smiling "Don’t worry, I’ll always get your best angle.” 

Smiles filled the room and everyone stepped forward to introduce themselves. The first to reach the woman was Mariona who shook her hand and welcomed her. Next were Patri and Pina who both looked like over excited children. They both gave the girl hugs and started to ask different questions only to be pulled away by Irene and Aitana. The taller woman had a warm smile and a very calm demeanor that instantly made Rosalie feel at ease with her. The smaller woman pulled her in a hug and asked her about her  move and how she was settling in this new city.  

A voice she knew all too well interrupted the conversation and arms wrapped around the photographer from behind. As soon as she smelled the familiar perfume, the Canadian spun around and wrapped her arms around her best friend. “ Hello Frenchy''

Keira didn’t let go of the woman and gave an apologetic smile to the two Spanish players who smiled and left, understanding that this was a private reunion. “ I had to fight Lucy to go get you but the old hag still has some spunk in her.” 

The comment made Rosalie laugh and pull away without letting go completely of her friend. At this moment, Lucy arrived next to the blond and gave her a small shove. “ I heard that.”

A few other players came to introduce themselves but Keira and Lucy stayed by the brunette’s side. When the last of the girls left, the photographer turned to her friends only to see them looking over her shoulders. 

“ Hola, I don’t think we have been introduced” 

The photographer turned around swiftly only to freeze on the spot at the woman before her. Words seemed to escape her as her lips parted but no words came out. Alexia Putellas was a woman with a commanding presence and piercing eyes. She towered over the photographer by a few inches  and even with a polite smile on her face, she held herself with a confidence that would make anyone shrink beside her. A sharp elbow in her ribs shook up the girl and prompted her to finally speak.

“ Oui, Bonjour mademoiselle,”

[realjaysumlin]

Black solidarity is no other option. We either unite or we are doomed.

AUSET AND THE KEMETYU

The secret to the Africans' dominance of the Ancient World was its unified organization. The Kemetyu worked together. Their entire spiritual system was about the devotion (Auset) of the person's will (Heru) to communal unity (Ausar) for harmony (Ma'at).

[noxturnals-void]

Flowers I would give slashers:

(With loose flower symbolism)

♥️ These are just my opinions on what flowers to give to different slashers, take em or leave em ♥️

Characters include:

Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Hannibal Lector, Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory

Michael Myers:

Whatever you give him he’d probably throw straight into the trash, but if you wanted to try…

The red and orange roses symbolize desire, fascination, passion, and obsession.

The hydrangeas have been dyed orange, so this can be taken as orange or white. At face value, orange is energy and strength. Under the surface, white hydrangeas are a symbol of superiority.

The miscellaneous black foliage can mean power, mystery, and death.

Jason Voorhees:

He’s definitely a wildflower kinda guy. Anything simple will suffice.

The light blue delphiniums symbolize deep emotion, dignity, rebirth, and protection.

White veronicas symbolize devotion, loyalty, and everlasting love.

The white daisies symbolize innocence, friendship, and adoration.

The miscellaneous green foliage can mean resilience, growth, and vitality.

Thomas Hewitt aka Leatherface:

Would probably love whatever you gave him, but he especially loves sunflowers.

Sunflowers represent loyalty, admiration, resilience, and comfort.

Feverfew symbolizes protection and strength.

The blue sage symbolizes gentleness, health, and wisdom.

Bunny tail grass can represent love and growth.

The miscellaneous dark green and brown foliage can mean vitality, warmth, safety, and stability.

Hannibal Lector:

He’s frequently enjoys the finer things in life and wouldn’t be called a simple man by any means. That said, he does love his sophisticated, but unique roses.

White roses symbolize loyalty, love, secrecy, silence, unity, fascination, and purity.

Jesse Cromeans aka Chromeskull:

Anything pricey-looking would impress him, but he does have a thing for black.

Burgundy roses symbolize beauty, deep passion, obsession, luxury, and commitment.

Black roses represent eternal love, intense emotions, power, mystery, and death.

Asa Emory aka The Collector:

He’s does enjoy the occasional gift, but he’s not much of a flower guy. Red roses would likely be just fine with him.

Deep red roses symbolize beauty, passion, desire, obsession, and deep emotion.

Baby’s-breath represents sincerity and undying affection.

The green foliage can mean growth and resilience.

[mirai-e-jump]

Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger Photo Book: ~King of Kings~

Gira Husty Profile: King of Shugoddam, the most powerful country where the guardian god resides. Learning of king Racules Husty's goal of "prioritizing the unity of Chikyu, even at the expense of the people," he rebels against the world by playing the role of an "evil king" in order to protect everyone. His partner is God Kuwagata, and he arms himself with the KuwagataOhger armor.

Yanma Gast Profile: King of N'kosopa, country of technology. Born in a slum, he rose to the position of king with just his computer. He's a skilled engineer, and all of the equipment for the Royal Sentai was developed by Yanma. He's an ambitious man with a desire to improve, with many people looking up to and calling him "President" due to his yankii spirit.

Hymeno Ran Profile: Queen of Ishabana, country of fine art and medicine. While beautiful in appearance, she has an extremely selfish personality, and values "beauty" above all else. On the other hand, she has no hesitation in saving someone's life, and has the face of a doctor who brilliantly saves lives. She maintains a "selfish style" in battle, not caring about her surroundings, and fights using the King's Weapon: Scythe Mode.

Rita Kaniska Profile: King of Gokkan, country of ice and snow, they're the Chief International Judge who believes that neutrality is justice. They're always reserved and cautious, and don't show emotion, so they're often seen as a stubborn person……but, they actually have a compassionate side……? At the climax of the battle, they face the enemy with a cool style of "remaining immovable," unaffected by anything.

Kaguragi Dybowski Profile: Lord of Toufu, an agricultural country. He's always smiling and has a gentle and friendly personality. However, the truth is he's willing to use dirty tricks to protect his country, and has exceptional negotiating techniques to get things done to work to his advantage. He's concerned about his younger sister Suzume, who married Shugoddam's Racules.

Jeramie Brasieri Profile: Born to a father who was the sixth hero that saved mankind 2,000 years ago and a mother who was a Bugnarak, he has passed down the history of Chikyu for a long time as the "storyteller." His right arm is that of a Bugnarak, and he has a special ability to create strong webs from inside his body. His existence stirs up both the kings and Bugnarak, using words and actions that are difficult to read.

Racules Husty Profile: As king of Shugoddam, he united the five kingdoms with his unparalleled and overwhelming charisma, but was defeated in trial by combat with his brother Gira, and was dethroned as king. While Gira and the others were away from Chikyu, he became the king of Shugoddam and ruled the country as Shugo Mask……

Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger: Costume Guide The gorgeous costumes of the kings, which are reminiscent of the characteristics of each country. A guide to the current costumes and accessories worn by the characters since the beginning of the story.

Gira Husty (Top) Costume of Gira, who replaced Racules as king of Shugoddam. The cape remains the same, but the costume and boots underneath have changed!

(Middle) His recognizable oversized shirt and the bright red harness that highlight it. Red and black straps cross over the wide collar.

(Bottom) The brown boots were worn by Gira as he escaped during the beginning of the story. The necklace is designed with five pieces of red glass.

Yanma Gast (Top Right) Costume from the start of the new chapter two years later. The jacket has a design with a black belt hanging down. The cuffs have a zipper that can be opened and closed.

(Top Left) The wide pants are designed to be divided into upper and lower parts above the knee. The inner one has two lines on the front part. The color blue is used strikingly throughout.

(Middle) The cuff earring has ridges that grow alongside the ear, two chains, and N'kosopa's "King's Proof." The headphones have a cord connected to a switch.

(Bottom) Items that Yanma wears on his arms. The design of the shoes are silver with blue accents. They also have decorations that resemble headphones.

Kaguragi Dybowski (Top) A luxurious and gorgeous costume that just screams, "I'm the lord of Toufu!" The sleeves of the haori have a distinct pattern on both the front and back. The beehive like patterns are also a key point.

(Bottom) The footwear seen under his kimono are boots. Furthermore, the soles are shaped to be like geta.

Hymeno Ran (Top) From the new chapter, the shape of the sleeves and skirt have changed, and the large ribbon on the back is also one of its main features. The asymmetrical skirt produces cuteness and elegance. The tiara contains the "King's Proof."

(Middle Top) The previous costume was made up of a top, skirt, and corset. The skirt has volume, with the front being short and the back being long. The corset is laced up at the back.

(Middle Bottom) The sequin encrusted tights are the same design throughout the entire story. Also, the glittering shoes made entirely of gold are one of Hymeno's signature items.

(Bottom) Hymeno's Favorite Accessories: Hymeno has a large number of accessories, including earrings, necklaces, and bracelets, which among them she'll use at random. This is the commitment to beauty!

Rita Kaniska (Top Right) From the new chapter, Rita's clothes changed to a shorter length jacket. The metallic purple collar accentuates the black base color of the outfit.

(Top Left) The previous costume was a tailcoat type of long jacket. The black cloth is decorated with snowflake like patterns. The design of the purple collar and cuffs are the same as the costume for the new chapter.

(Bottom Left) The black gloves are one of the most distinctive features of Rita's costume. The bracelet decorated in the center has Gokkan's "King's Proof." There's a similar emblem on the cuff earring.

(Bottom Right) Rita is characterized by their all black outfit. Their knee length long boots are of course, also all black.

Jeramie Brasieri From the new chapter, an elegant cape has been added to Jeramie's costume. In the previous costume, his right arm had a longer sleeve. The top is asymmetrical with the left side being longer.

Handwritten Messages Check out the handwritten comments from the cast!

Sakai Taisei (Gira Husty)

"What do you respect about Gira, the character you play?" The fact that he tries to understand people's feelings!!

"If you were a king, what kind of country would you want to build?" A country where children can eat until they're full!!

"What do you think is the best part of Gira's costume?" The cape he got from his big brother!!

"Please give a message to Gira!" I want you to be happy!

"Please give a message to the king cast members!" I'm going to rule the world!!

"Finally, a message to the fans of King-Ohger!" You guys are the gears~ ^_^

Watanabe Aoto (Yanma Gast)

"What do you respect about Yanma, the character you play?" His sense of distance and respect for people.

"If you were a king, what kind of country would you want to build?" A country where the youth are the driving force.

"What do you think is the best part of Yanma's costume?" The sandals that I literally ran in for a whole year.

"Please give a message to Yanma!" I'm on top!!

"Please give a message to the king cast members!" Thank you for the past year!!

"Finally, a message to the fans of King-Ohger!" Thank you so much for your support. Now, you can also be a Royal Sentai.

Murakami Erica (Hymeno Ran)

"What do you respect about Hymeno, the character you play?" Her inner strength 💛

"If you were a king, what kind of country would you want to build?" A country without war.

"What do you think is the best part of Hymeno's costume?" The asymmetrical design!

"Please give a message to Hymeno!" I'm encouraged by your nobility!

"Please give a message to the king cast members!" Thank you all for making this past year so enjoyable. Really, thank you so much 💛

"Finally, a message to the fans of King-Ohger!" Filming for King-Ohger has finished, but we'll live on in everyone's hearts! Thank you so much for your support!!

Hirakawa Yuzuki (Rita Kaniska)

"What do you respect about Rita, the character you play?" The part where they never waver.

"If you were a king, what kind of country would you want to build?" A country where many different languages are spoken.

"What do you think is the best part of Rita's costume?" The chain attached to the jacket.

"Please give a message to Rita!" You've got humanity and are cute :)

"Please give a message to the king cast members!" We're family! Thank you so much for the past year!

"Finally, a message to the fans of King-Ohger!" Thank you so much for loving King-Ohger so much!

Kaku So (Kaguragi Dybowski)

"What do you respect about Kaguragi, the character you play?" That he'll dirty himself for the sake of others.

"If you were a king, what kind of country would you want to build?" Protein supplied.

"What do you think is the best part of Kaguragi's costume?" The emotions (design) on the sleeves.

"Please give a message to Kaguragi!" Be selfish every once in awhile.

"Please give a message to the king cast members!" Thank you all so much, we're family forever.

"Finally, a message to the fans of King-Ohger!" Thank you so much for your support. Let's meet again soon!!

Ikeda Masashi (Jeramie Brasieri)

"What do you respect about Jeramie, the character you play?" His vocabulary.

"If you were a king, what kind of country would you want to build?" Peaceful World.

"What do you think is the best part of Jeramie's costume?" It gives off the feeling of a prince.

"Please give a message to Jeramie!" Thanks ^_^

"Please give a message to the king cast members!" I was really happy with the six of us!

"Finally, a message to the fans of King-Ohger!" Thank you for all the love and good dreams.

[walidgoldpreppy]

Welcome WalidGold

Walter Jenkins, a square-faced man in his thirties with a layered red haircut, stood in front of his office mirror, meticulously adjusting his gold tie knot. He wore a crisp suit, black with gold accents here and there—a nod to his role as manager of the famous sports team, the Golden Team.

Each member of the team wore their Gold uniforms, a symbol of their success and unity, and Walter, always dapper, found subtle ways to incorporate the color into his own outfit. Today, it was his tie clip, watch, and belt buckle that sparkled in the dim office light.

On the mahogany desk sat a small bottle, with Arabic writing etched into the glass. It was a gift from a friend, @arab-god.

Why not try it, he thought, with a wry smile. Without further hesitation, he uncorked the bottle and swallowed the liquid in one gulp. At first, he didn't feel anything out of the ordinary.

But a few moments later, a wave of heat invaded his body. His red beard, although well-groomed, began to gradually darken, turning a deep brown. The heat spread, making his skin browner and browner, as if every cell of his being was burning with energy. His muscles swelled, his body became wider, more imposing, as if every fiber of his flesh was being reforged under the effect of the drink.

Walter staggered slightly, his hands gripping the desk to keep his balance. He felt his mind grow numb, his head became lighter, as if his intelligence was slowly fading to make way for something more primal.

His Gold tie strained against his pecs, which were developing visibly. Each breath was heavier, slower, as the heat reached his lower abdomen, triggering an even more radical transformation.

He placed a hand on his chest, watching in amazement as his red hair turned black, taking on a more neat, almost slicked-back look. His eyes, previously a bright blue, became dark, almost black, as a voice echoed in his head, murmuring words in Arabic.

Walter didn't understand a thing, but he knew, deep down, that something had changed. He repeated these words mentally, without understanding their meaning. Suddenly, everything became clear: he had surrendered to something greater. He submitted to the force of this transformation, feeling a new power invade his mind and body. *Allah*... A clear, precise word, invaded his mind.

He felt stronger, more confident, and above all... more dominant. He straightened up, becoming aware of his new body. His skin was tanned, his features harder, his gaze, now dark brown, more piercing. He ran a hand over his beard, which had grown thick and black. Now he was Walter, but also something more. He felt more masculine, more imposing. Every gesture, every movement gave off an aura of power and control.

Standing in his office, Walter or whatever he had become stared into space. His right hand played absently with his tie as his mind sank into a thick, confused haze. Fuzzy memories came to mind, but none of them seemed to belong to the life he had led so far.

Images of his childhood in a small American town, his rising career in sports management, all of it gradually dissipated, like a dream that evaporates in the morning. In their place, a new reality imposed itself, more powerful, more vivid. He was no longer Walter.

Perhaps he had never been. *Walid*, that was who he was. The name echoed in his mind, filling every corner of his being.

Memories of a sunny childhood in a faraway land, in the heart of palm-lined alleys and bustling markets, imposed themselves on him. His parents, pious and respected, had taught him the values ​​of religion from a young age. Every morning, he rose for prayer at dawn, his eyes still sleepy, but his heart filled with faith. Walter's mind was slowly burning, absorbed by these new memories. He was no longer the man he believed himself to be. *Walid*, the son of a prosperous merchant, had grown up learning to dominate his environment, to impose his will with charisma and authority.

Very young, he had developed a natural talent for business, a keen sense of commerce and negotiation. Everything in his life had converged towards an unstoppable rise. Within a few years, he had become an influential businessman, respected throughout the country.

Every morning, Walid put on his suit and tie, a symbol of his success and power.

His unwavering faith had been his guide throughout this journey. He prayed fervently, guided by the love of Allah, and strove to spread the good word wherever he went. His success was not only the fruit of his hard work, but also of his deep devotion to his Creator.

It was Allah who had given him this strength, this natural dominance over other men. Every day, dressed in his impeccable suit, Walid stood as a manager, but also as a guide, a model of masculinity. With his ties and elegant suits, he embodied success, faith, and power. Under his leadership, the team was no longer simply a sports team, but a unified force, driven by a deeper conviction.

Adjusting his tie, he contemplated his reflection in the mirror. His tanned skin, his impeccably groomed black hair, his perfectly trimmed dark beard... Everything about him exuded a natural authority. Walid stood there, towering and powerful, ready to spread the good word through his success in business and sports. There was no more doubt, no more hesitation. Walter Jenkins was a distant memory. Now, he was *WalidGold*.

[granolawriting]

How abt one where Joel misses the reader sm soo he comes to meet her very late at night they both drink leading to smut cause ofc 😭😏 and maybe in the middle joel makes a vid of them but he didn’t remember it cause he was drunk and later after a week or soo he discovers it idk something like that 😫

pairing: NSFW!reader x no breakout!Joel

Summary: Joel brings over liquor and a smile, a situation synonymous for whats to become of every few months of your life filled with drunken sex and family dinners with him. And as you hear the infamous knock upon your door once more, you fall for his southern charm once more.

Content warning: dom!Joel, drunken sex, doggystyle, video without permisson, rough fucking, porn with a little plot, cumming inside, praise, pet names (sweetheart, darling, doll), "good girl", long haired joel because I say so!!!, age gap (obviously..)

word count: 2.8k

A/N: thank you for this request!!! my first Joel req.. of many I hope hehe. I have a special place in my heart for drunk Joel, probably for reasons I shouldent. But I digress, very fun to write :)) I hope you enjoy!

The clacking of your keyboard brings noise to an otherwise quiet evening within your home, finishing up work on your computer was the only thing that troubled your mind at what the clock shone as 12 into the night. 

A ring of your doorbell catches you off focus for a moment. There was no means for a package to arrive or even people for that matter. It was far too late for any reasonable person to be out and especially at your door. Fear overtakes you for just a moment before curiosity outweighs it and the sudden urge to stay where you are is replaced by the insatiable one to see what lies on the other side of the door. 

You check the phone that had been charging at a port out of your line of sight to be greeted by absolutely nothing, zero clue into what the meaning of this visit could entail. 

The creak of the door upon your hands opening its knob do you watch as it reveals a certain Joel upon the other side of the door. Facing him as he faces you, a selfish smile coating his face as he grips within his hand some nondescript black plastic bag. 

Looking upon Joel did you notice the clothes, and general demeanor he held. With salt and pepper hair grown out slightly, traces of product line it's ends as they clump together to create some semblance of unity as they fall upon his face, the gruff lines and wear of an older man are what you find beneath the strands of hair-- a grin complimented by a short and kempt beard. The clothing upon his body was all worn, but good quality. Red plaid complimenting his undershirt as a worn brown leather jacket works as his outer jacket. Dark levis that signified one of his better-dressed pants, as the stains of work grow more apparent upon the lighter colors he chooses for jeans. His belt was fashioned to fit the precise mold of his body with the crease of the belt hole he uses every morning having considerably more wear than the rest of the belt. 

“Hey sweetheart.” 

A compelling southern drawl complimenting a sly smile was almost enough for you to entertain this interaction with outright positivity. 

“Joel, what are you doing at my place this late. Don't you have work in the morning?”

“Got the day off. But I'm flattered yer lookin out for me darlin. Came by just to say hi, that such a crime?” 

He lets himself into your home as the sloshing of the bag he held within his fingers becomes more curious. 

“You at least gonna tell me what's in the bag? Or is that also none of my business.” 

You cross your arms in an attempt at anger, though fall short as he sees right through you, as he always has been able to. 

Two bottles clash with the top of your wooden table providing a clink to follow what he says; 

“Thought we could share a drink, you and I. like old times ‘member?” 

Memories of the ‘old times’ flood your memories as blurs of sloppy kisses and drunken love fill your mind, the reminders of all the times you and he have had together, and all the times you have not had together. The relationship between you and him was special to say the least. He was no boyfriend, but he was definitely not just some kind of fuck buddy. Or was he? There had been times you took care of Sarah, taken her to games, but there had also been times when there was no communication for weeks on end. It all depended on if you guys just showed up at one another's door. All oftentimes ignited by a simple drink, would it grow into flame of passion that extinguished within the coming months to be done once more after well enough time away. 

It was very toxic, sure. But for someone like Joel, part of you was compelled to believe you could just deal. You didn't mind it.

“Well if the drinks are free, I can't say no. and free delivery, now that's something special.” 

You teased with him a moment, as it wasn't discernable what kind of night it was going to be yet. Some nights you and Joel stayed up until the early morning talking about life, the way you two felt about the world and so on. Other times, the early mornings greeted you with a lot less of a profound means for staying awake. 

“You know that's my specialty.” 

He stands to grab glasses from your cabinet, the muscle memory he holds of knowing exactly where they are making a swift shift from shelf to table as he proceeds to pour you a glass. 

… 

The night grows dark as the two of you grow to run out of things to catch up on. Learning about Sarah's most recent academic achievement, or what sport she's picked to do for this spring. He tells you about the things going on at his work, trying to dumb it down but never quite making it understandable regardless. You tell him how your work goes, trying to not mention any school you may still engage in as a means to not remind him how old he is or how the gap in your age could be equally compared to that of the entire rule of certain kings throughout history. 

You grasp at things to say near the end of your last story. Realizing nothing already said can follow up, leading to a lapse of silence to overtake you two as liquor fills your system looked within his dark eyes as they stare back at you. 

“Know what, fuck it.” 

Joel mutters before pushing all casualty and simple conversation out the window as the tension building up inside of him grew too hard to bear. It seemed as if he was just looking, praying for a quiet moment so he had the means to pounce on you. He didn't properly care about any work you had due, as he watched the pink of your lips as they moved with the sound of your voice, the hair upon your head falling into your face and watching sloppy fingers push it behind your ears. The way your chest poured out of the top you wore and above all else, the look within your eyes that yearned and pleaded for the exact same thing. 

He almost jumped on you, the passion deep within his heart that sunk to his legs as he brought himself from the seated table to your left sounds of wood clashing against wood and a disruption in all the items upon the table you two sat at he brought himself closer to you in one move. He knocks you off your own chair in the process, as the two of you fall onto the floor in a fit of passion as his lips interlock with mine. 

“You don't know how fuckin badly I’ve been missin this darlin”

Is muttered as he lay above you, his arms now holding your wrists to the floor as he looks you up and down. He goes into your neck, licking it up and down as his sloppy movements and tongue coat your whole neck with the sensitive kisses bites of his drunken fervor. His hand releases from the right side of your wrist as it traces down your body, his knee propped up against the left side of you he stables himself to feel your body with his hand. Groping your chest desperately as you feel calloused hands trail under your shirt and across your waist. Sloppy grabbing at every part of your naked body as he moves from your neck to your lips once more. Forcing his tongue down your throat as every move he makes is made with unparalleled desperation. 

He lets up for a moment, breath heavy and sweat coating his face as the clothes he wears begin to heat him up. Realizing that you watch him straddled on top of you as he removes his jacket, followed by the unbuttoning of his flannel to reveal the muscle he held underneath. You watched as his chest went up and down to match the sound of his breath as he looked upon you. 

Part of you grows desperate as well, as your now free hands trail to the only part of him that still stays dressed, his pants. Moving fingers to trace the creases and lines of his jeans, slowly going closer to the growing bulge in his pants. Playfully toying with it, getting just close enough to it but never exactly where he’d want you to. 

You watch as every move you make brings him even more tense, small groans are to escape him as you move a single finger over his bulge and you watch as he throws his hands on the sides of the floor next to you. your faces now an inch apart he whispers within your ear;

“Nows not the time to be playin with me sweeheart. Theres no reason I wouldn't turn you right around and fuck you myself now is there?” 

You stay silent for a moment, but he grabs your jaw and asks again. 

“Is there, darlin’?” 

You shake your head no, unable to muster up a word as your arousal turns you into silent awe at the sight of him. Though with his suggestion you allow yourself to thereafter be moved by his hands onto your stomach, leaving your back completely vulnerable to him. You hear what is the clink of his belt as he struggles to get it off in desperation and with the drop of it across the room thereafter. You hear the zipper of his pants signify their drop as well, watching his phone fall to the side of you in the process. 

He removes your shorts and underwear at the same time to reveal just your ass below him as he straddles your lower legs. Feeling as his hands toy with your ass, moving it and smacking it as he wished. 

Though without much more time wasted, you hear a spit into his hand that undoubtedly coated his cock, as you felt his heat meet yours as he teased it between your folds for a moment before entering you. 

He enters you with a long groan, as he goes in and out of you with no pace and little regard for going slow. The first few thrusts are slow and intentional, but he grows much more sloppy with no time. 

He leans his body to curve on top of yours as you lay on the floor with your knees only to prop up an easier means for him to enter you. He begins to bite your ear, groans and whispering into your ear praise and curse words;

“Fuck hnm, darlin’ you’re so fuckin tight for me. Oh my god ya feel so good fer me. You’re my good girl takin it like you should.” 

His drawl comes out even more when he's drunk, he humps you as you feel his breath hitch and grow uneven on the side of your neck. Though he centers himself once more, this time using only one hand to hold you as to hold you still as he fucks into you. His forearm crossed above your chest, feeling the muscle of his bicep on the side of your arm and the thickness of his forearm grip you as he moves in and out of you. 

“Do you like that huh? Tha way I'm fuckin ya? Arent you my good fuckin girl?” 

He demands a response, to a pleading and moaning mess in your reply as you utter out the words;

“Yes, yes I'm you’re good girl. Please, don't stop please” 

“I could never stop when you feel this fuckin good. God I'm,” 

He falls into grunts as he tries to keep his body straight as he fucks into you with even more desperation as you can feel him growing close by just the feeling of him inside of you. And before you know it you feel a final groan escape him that follows hot fluid shoot deep inside of you as he rides out his full orgasm feeling you contract on top of him, your body desperate to keep in every drop. 

Falling onto the floor, he lays beside you in a sweating, breathless mess as you lay there the same. For a moment you and him look at one another and smile, before you both get up once more to clean each other off, and go in for a shower before you two share a bed for the night. God knows how late it even is now. 

---

“Hey doll, ya know where I left my phone?” 

A voice wakes you up, one of a fully dressed Joel who apparently, is about to leave. 

“Aw, not staying for breakfast?” 

You tease, letting yourself get up a bit and stretching to orient yourself to the morning. 

“Would love to, but Sarah's gotta short day at school today. Hows about ya come over fer dinner tonight? Our treat.”

He shines you an old smile, and your heart melts the same way it's done every time past. 

“Then it's a date. Last I saw, your phone was on the floor in my living room.” 

Pointing him to that direction, he exclaims to have found it, and to follow you hear and opening and shutting of a door to signify that once more, you are alone. Beginning your morning routine you spend some time moving things around mentally, seeing what to do with the day since you now have plans in the evening.

---

Joel stops his car within his driveway, checking the time he realizes he’s much earlier than he expected himself to be. He has around 3 hours to kill before a little girl will be waiting for his beat-up car to take her home early, the best day to ever befall a girl or so it seemed to her. Walking within his home he drops keys into an empty bowl, kicking off heavy boots so the creaking within his home subsides to a much lighter and more sparse sound than that of heavy boots clanking on the soft wooden floors. He sits upon the green couch in his living room, turning on the tv he devises to text you something as a means to make up for the abrupt departure the night before. Though as he opens his phone, it opens to the photo gallery where a new video seems to have been added. 

Oh my god. 

He clicks on it with hesitant hands, and as he does his mind is brought back to a night he failed to properly remember. 

“Do you like that huh? Tha way i'm fuckin ya? Arent you my good fuckin girl?” 

“Yes, yes i'm you’re good girl. Please, don't stop please” 

He feels himself grow at the sight of what's on his phone. 

A video, of last night? 

He never remember taking something like this. Let alone ever saving it. But as he watched as he came inside of you, hearing your begs and pleas for his cock it aroused him in a way he couldn't suppress. As the video ended he lay dumbfounded for a moment. Curious about what to do with such a video. But as he looks at the replay button upon his phone the only thing that fuels him is unquenchable lust. 

Unbuckling his belt once more, he unzips his pants to reveal his hard member once more. Sitting upon that couch does he replay the video. Slowly touching himself at the sight of your body. Watching the way your ass moved on his cock, the way your waist looked curved to get the most pleasure out of his cock. He watched the way you bounced on and off him, the way your body looked gripped by his arm and the desperation that coated your voice as every thrust inside of you elicited a scream or a moan. 

He was obsessed, entranced with watching over and over again as he made you cum, as he came inside of you. And as the pace of his hand around his cock grew faster, it was before he knew it that he finished with closed eyes and a heavy groan once more. 

After cleaning himself up and changing, he looks at the video on his phone once more. Curious of what to do with it. He thinks for a moment, but as a smile creeps upon his face he knows exactly what to do with it. 

“Wanted ta’ let you know I just had a little fun with this. You look fuckin’ amazing darlin’. Might hafta do this more often.” 

*video attached*