#but when i say this lady was like... racist as fuck when she was talking to me. i really really mean it
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i love being casual at my second job, because it is one of the most toxic work environments i've ever been in (and i say that being a retail veteran lmao) and every time i go in there's like. eight new fucked up things everyone rushes to tell me. bc my work vibe is that i am normal and collected (literally had someone tell me yesterday that i'm the most normal person at work which is the first time i've ever heard that one) and i don't take sides or get invested in gossip, so i don't really have beef with anyone... so everyone thinks i'm their friend and feels comfortable just like. telling me the most rank gossip known to man. and i'm not full time and these people are just coworkers i see sometimes so i'm just fully not emotionally invested in any of what's going on, which allows me to see it all as pretty funny instead of getting pissed about it.
#liveblogging life#literally spent 30m today listening to a coworker rant at me about how she suspects someone stole her phone#and like. i dont cause waves bc the way these people will hold grudges is fucking insane to me#but when i say this lady was like... racist as fuck when she was talking to me. i really really mean it#like accusing people of being drug dealers and stealing her shit and repeatedly connecting it to them being hmong... BIG yikes.#but usually it's just a lot of people complaining about how other people are getting favoritism from our sups#our that someone called in super drunk again. or that someone showed up high to work like eight hours late.#idk man every day i thank god i got the fuck out of that place full time and that my current work environment is 1000x better#bc being a casual person really is the only thing that makes that job at all tolerable#esp. since the shifts i work or pick up i usually don't see any coworkers at all. top tier.
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Me, 4 years ago: Boy, I sure love the song "Guitar Hero" by Amanda Palmer! But I can never clearly hear what it is she shouts in this one segment - I'll just look it up real quick!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2d7055fd0e19588261d8eb8958ad0084/dfb7e84d00edd250-ad/s500x750/d8e561690ea8b3a6be5f36f91fba3257823ba57a.jpg)
...
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[it was the n-word]
#original#amanda palmer#dresden dolls#and that's why I can pinpoint the exact moment in time I stopped looking up to Amanda Palmer#she's a white lady there is no excuse. cartoonishly 'white feminism' nonsense.#it is additionally bizarre bc it has nothing to do with the song. like there's nothing she could have done to justify it but it's#so nakedly just for flavor. racist racist flavor. i was fucking horrified#it is one thing to make art exploiting your own trauma but to be white and to exploit black trauma in your art is such fucking garbage#like I don't think that when someone makes tasteless art about abuse we should demand that they out themselves as an abuse survivor#but something fuckin tells me Amanda Palmer has never experienced anti Black racism#and it's really hard to give her the benefit of the doubt that she's approaching art about other people's trauma in good faith + w/ respect#when she clearly thought this was just... funny? cool? i have no idea what. i mean talk about losing a role model in 5 seconds flat!#imagine being white and saying the n word and then recording yourself in a song saying it and releasing a music video for that song#at least the other racists have a good sense not to record themselves saying it Jesus Christ what a stupid thing to do#how often are you using that word that you felt like it was time to put it in a music video?? I often have trouble hearing lyrics#but usually i work them out from context clues. I never caught this one bc it has no context#and bc I truly believed she was better than that so it never even occurred to me. like all of her edgy artsy bullshit was not fun anymore
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-_-
#my mom is. so fucking white#like technically she's middle eastern but sometimes i will have a convo with this woman and go wow you are. white -_-#so today we were talking and somehow this guy she knows got brought up and she was saying how he said something abt how white ladies will#cross to the other side of the street when they see him coming and she was like i wonder why???? he doesnt even look like a thug????#which is. something. so i was like uhhhhh. its prolly cause he's black. n theyre racist#and she was like nooooooo he's not black!!!!!! he's lebanese :). and also half ghanaian and im like..... YEAH. so he's black#and she's like nooo he's not black he looks like you :). and im like. woman. SO HE'S BLACK. (for context i am abt as dark as travie mccoy.)#and she's like. so you mean people would just cross the street when they see him?? because he's dark??? and im like....... YEAH. NO SHIT.#like. sometimes i forget that people can just go thru the world being white passing and not having to think about this shit#also its funny as fuck to me that my mom is lowkey racist against black ppl and gets really upset when i call myself black#and my dad is lowkey racist and highkey islamophobic and gets mad when i call myself middle eastern. like. bruh#it's honestly a wonder i dont have racial identity issues cause like. ?? girl help
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It is possible to interact with people whom share opposing views and no this is not about pineapple on pizza. In fact, it is imperative that you learn how to be civil with some people who you may find difficult to agree with.
At work, Youngin would often tell me that the guy that trained him (Ginger) was a misogynist. I had never met Ginger, and I had very little to say on this matter. But I would ask Youngin some questions about him because I like to know the other seasonal workers a little. I ask about Ginger- first words from Youngin's mouth 'he's a misogynist.'
I asked him why he thought that. (There are many misogynists at this location, as someone that is woman-shaped I see it often, I am comparing notes.)
"We were on our way to a location and a driver was going really slowly. When he got around her he said 'fucking women drivers.' Like he was going out of his way to prove that the driver was a woman."
The last month or so, Youngin worked exclusively with me because I knew that it was a matter of time before he said something that pissed off one of the guys. He was not going to get along with people here, it just wasn't happening.
When he left, everyone wanted to know what he was like to work with. And I finally got to have a conversation with Ginger.
"I'd like to ask you something a little strange- he said that on his first day there was an issue with a driver going slowly. Can you tell me about that?"
"Oh yeah! She was going super slow and when I got around her I said 'yup- little old lady driving.' And he was like 'what's that supposed to mean?' And I just kind of dropped it, but I hear he was saying I was a misogynist over it?"
So I give Youngin some grace because he's young, he's got a social bubble that's very liberal, he has not met very many people that weren't part of that kind of scene. But he often talked about how every person here has said something that pissed him off and he seemed really surprised that I (woman-shaped queer liberal) would be okay working with all these sexist homophobes.
And I give grace to Ginger because he had no reason to think that his words would be interpreted like that. What he was saying was normal to him. This is... somewhat the culture of landscaping jobs. And its not even close to the worst thing I've heard out of these dudes mouths. (Literally had one of the dudes comment that he would like to 'motorboat' one of the pedestrians.)
It was weird for Youngin to carry that with him for the whole two months that he worked here, over a very... small comment.
Every single person I've worked with here has said something that has given me pause and I tuck it away to rant about later and then I let it go. If it gets out of hand, I talk to one of the bosses about it. I know how to contact HR. I came into this place knowing that I was going to disagree politically with most of the people that I work with because I'm coming in to a culture that is fundamentally different from my own.
If I am being frank, I find the overt bigotry somewhat better than the corporate bullshit of 'we value your contributions, but won't be granting your accommodations request out of fairness to other workers' or the glass cliff or literally being fired for my sexual orientation but phrased with 'oh you just weren't a good fit for the culture here.' I at least know what I'm getting into when I come to work. I know what not to talk about. Last time I thought I was safe to talk about something queer with my boss she blindsided me with some transphobic garbage.
Its admirable to stick up for the marginalized people in your life, but part of changing minds is knowing the time and the place to comment. I think I've changed more minds at this warehouse by being a visibly out lesbian at work than I have by making carefully crafted speeches.
That is fine. It is fine to disagree. Sometimes you have to work with racists, homophobes, and assholes. That is part of being an adult. You talk about things like... sports or TV or weather or some cool bug you saw. Finding common ground with people who are different from you in many ways is an important part of socialization and it sucks to think you have anything in common with a jackass but look- you're spending 7-ish hours with these people and at some point some of them are going to say stupid shit. You are going to say stupid shit also. I have said my fair share of stupid shit. Deal with the fact that you're all stupid shits.
And for fuck's sake, wear your hardhat.
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Witches' Brouhaha
Summary: Ari saves you from a real-life fright on Halloween night...
Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Drunk/Abusive Asshole, Mildly Racist/Xenophobic Language, Mentions of Domestic Violence, Angry/Protective Ari, Physical Violence, Face Slapping, Wrestling, Manhandling, Oral Sex (Male rec), Cum Swallowing, Allusions to P in V Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
“Well, this should be the last of it.” You huff, setting a box of decorations and spare prizes down on the desk in the back of your shop. Wiping your hands on your gown, you turn around just in time to avoid colliding with your friend, Marisol Gonzalez, as she carries in several oversized event posters.
“Sorry! Comin’ through.” She breezes by you, doing her best not to trip over the hem of her dress.
“Just lean them against the wall.” You tell her, stretching your arms above your head. “Yeah, right there is fine.”
Tonight’s Spooktacular Soiree at the local library had been an overwhelming success. You’d co-hosted the event with Marisol, who also happened to be the town librarian. While it was true that she was a couple years younger than you, you two had become fast friends over the past few months. And when she’d pitched this idea to you over coffee at the end of the summer, you’d known immediately that you wanted to be a part of it.
It was a family friendly event, complete with music and games, dancing, a costume contest and, of course, books. Tons and tons of books. Talk about a perfect way to spend your Halloween. And you couldn’t have been more pleased with the turnout.
Which was why, after numerous requests, you were already planning on doing the same thing again next year. Matter of fact, you two are so excited by the prospect, that you’re already discussing ideas when Ari walks in.
“So, word on the street is that tonight was a smashing success.” You immediately perk up at the sound of him joining you in your office. “Not that I expected anything less from the Wicked Witch of the West and Cleopatra.” The handsome bounty hunter tosses a wink your way.
“Actually, I’m dressed as Nefertiti.” Marisol corrects him with a smile.
“My mistake.” He amends before reaching for your hand to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.
“Eh, no biggie. I gave up trying to explain it to people about an hour into the party anyway.” She tells him with a shrug. “Hey, chica. Should we go check to make sure we got everything out of your car?”
“Yeah.” You sigh before standing up and offering Ari your chair.
“Need some help, ladies?”
“Nah. We got it.” You reassure him, rising on your toes to kiss his cheek. “Just keep my seat warm for me, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gifts you with a lazy smile as he slides into your chair, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Hurry back now."
After triple checking that you’ve gotten everything out of your vehicle, you and Marisol return to the warmth and comfort of Baubles & Quills. Still riding the high of tonight’s success, you’re actually in the middle of showing off a new display when you hear the chime of your front door opening behind you.
“Sorry, but we’re closed. Come back tomorrow…” The words die on your lips the moment you see who the hell just waltzed into your shop holding a bulging pillowcase.
Although you’re not exactly sure who you were expecting, it was safe to say that this was the last person you wanted to see – especially on a night like tonight. Because standing before you is a man by the name of Dale Edwards.
And it becomes alarmingly clear that he’s drunk as fucking skunk.
“Dale.” You begin, keeping your voice calm and even. “We’re closed right now. I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“Hell naw.” The pudgy man slurs. “I–I…drove all the way here to deal with your ass now.” His murky gaze strays over Marisol, as if he just realized that you weren’t alone. “And when I’m done with you, I’ma call immigration on Gaudilupe here. Let ‘em know they might want to stop by for a visit.”
Your mouth falls open in shock as Marisol audibly gasps. Even though she spoke with a hint of an accent, the woman was as much of a citizen as you were. Not that she owed anyone an explanation.
Least of all him.
“Get out or I’m calling the cops.” You threaten, wishing you were standing near your panic button.
“Go ahead.” Dale snarls, spittle flying from his mouth. “And I’ll tell ‘em that I wanna press charges against the bitches who tried to corrupt my daughters by giving them pornography!”
“Now that is an absolute lie, Mr. Edwards!” The sweet librarian exclaims. “You know we would never do something like that.”
“Yeah? Well, I…” He shakes his head in an effort to regroup. “I went through their rooms. Got all the evi–evidence right here.” The man shakes the bag. “And I know you tried it again tonight. With families!” His voice grows louder with each word. “Offering candy like you ain’t just invited 'em to dance with the Devil!”
Oh good God, this was not going well.
“Marisol.” You whisper as you look around for a weapon. “There should be a phone right there next to the register. Grab it and dial 911.”
Unfortunately for you, you make the mistake of taking your eyes off the man for two seconds. Which is why you miss the moment Dale reaches his hand into his bag before chucking the contents in your direction.
Drunk or not, the man proves to have good aim. Which is something you find out the hard way when several pieces of hard candy manage to graze your left cheek, making you scream.
Thankfully, it doesn’t hurt. Much.
Momentarily stunned, all you can do is stare back at him, mouth open, as you try to process what the hell had just happened.
Because had this man really just thrown a fistful of candy at you? At ten o’clock on Halloween night?
“What the actual fuck–?” Is all you can manage before turning your head to look at Marisol’s equally shocked expression.
“Um, Dale…I mean Mr. Edwards…I think it’s time you left now.” The sweet librarian tries, holding the phone tighter to her chest.
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He snarls at the same time as one of his pudgy hands grabs ahold of your discount book rack, knocking it over, sending almost two dozen of your precious books crashing to the ground. “In fact, I think it’s high time someone put the fear of God into you two bitch–” Dale falters suddenly, his spine going ramrod straight at the sound of another man’s voice joining the fray.
A voice that belonged to Ari.
In all the commotion, you’d completely forgotten that he was here – peacefully minding his business while he waited for you to join him in the back of your shop.
“Just what in the hell is goin’ on out here?” You find yourself breathing a sigh of relief as your bounty hunter’s deep baritone washes over you like a balm.
“D-Dale was just leaving.” You tell him, sparing a quick glance over your shoulder to offer up a reassuring smile.
“Of course he was.” Ari agrees, jamming his hands into the pockets of jeans. “And as soon as he cleans up his mess, Mr. Edwards can be on his way.”
“I ain’t doin’ shit!” The angry man hisses at the same time as you eek out the nervous “that’s okay”.
However, Ari doesn’t really seem all that in the mood to listen. Not after what he just witnessed before you realized he was standing there. In fact, the only reason he hadn’t already personally introduced this drunken asshole to every goddamned wall in your store was because he didn’t want to cause anymore unnecessary damage.
But that also didn’t mean he wouldn’t.
He’s by your side in seconds, his eyes never once leaving the other male’s disgruntled form as his long legs eat up the space between you.
“You okay, Marisol?” He asks, not bothering to hide the tick in his jaw.
“I–I’m fine, Mr. Levinson.”
“Glad to hear it, darlin’.” The bounty hunter takes a second to roll his shoulders, cracking his neck as he does. “Do me a favor. Take that box to the back and ring Bell’s Creek PD for me, would ya? Tell ‘em we’ve got a buddy here waiting for pick up. Go on, now.” He tacks on the last bit when he notices the young librarian hesitate briefly.
She hustles away with a nod. And although she tries to hide it, Ari doesn’t miss the way her lower lip starts to tremble as she makes her way to safety. Shit sets his teeth on edge. So much so, that he doesn’t speak again until he’s confident she’s out of earshot.
“Gotta be honest, fella, I’m about two seconds from breaking your fuckin’ jaw.”
“It’s okay, Ari. Really.” You try once more, bending your knees so you can begin collecting the candy littering your floor. “I can…I’ll tidy this up.”
“Baby.” The danger laced in his silky tone has you halting your movements almost immediately. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Once he’s confident he’s gotten your attention, he returns his attention back to the man at the heart of this disruption.
“You know what I hate, Dale?” The man at your side grunts, pushing up the sleeves of his thermal to reveal his brawny forearms.
“This here ain’t none of your business, Levinson.” Your aggressor hisses, spittle flying from his lips. “Hell! This ain’t even your town.”
“Men who act like bullies once they’ve got a little drink in ‘em.” Ari shrugs, continuing on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Especially with women. Really pisses me the fuck off.”
It’s only then that one of his hands goes to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his stormy gaze. While he was almost certain that you weren’t hurt, you knew there was a part of him that needed to see for himself. And although it’s hard, you manage to resist the urge to lean into his touch.
“I run my house, okay? I–” Dale wobbles to the left before finding his balance. “I am the king of my goddamned castle and I don’t want my family readin’ any of the trash these two like to peddle.” He rails, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Have you seen ‘em, Levinson? We’re talkin’ stories about women openly fornicatin’ with all kinds of creatures! Demons and vampires, an-and werewolves. Why, they might as well be…be…layin’ with dogs!”
“Oh go to hell!” You snort, unable to catch the words before they come tumbling out of your mouth. “You seriously just insulted the entire genre of paranormal romance!”
“Easy, Bird.” Ari murmurs, even as you bristle.
“You and Guadalupe over there are out here promotin’ beastiality. I’ve seen it on the cover of those damned books. The same ones I caught my girls readin’!”
Gritting your teeth, you close your eyes and force yourself to take a deep breath. It’s not like you’d forced those books on his girls, both of whom were 19 and 22 respectively. They were romance novel junkies, just like you. And you couldn’t be more proud that you’d turned them onto authors like Kresley Cole, Jeaniene Frost, and Nalini Singh.
But deep down you also knew there was no use in arguing with this man. All you really wanted was him out of your store so you could finally lock-up and go home.
“Look Dale, you’re drunk. I can see it and I can most definitely smell it.” Your fingers come up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “If you leave now, I promise I won’t press charges.”
Which means your poor wife won’t be stuck bailing you out of jail. Again. Although you’re smart enough to leave that last part unsaid.
“I ain’t leavin’ until I’ve made my point.” Dale grunts, kicking at one of your fallen books. You grimace when you notice the way his boot rips the cover, nearly tearing it in half. “This filth ain’t welcome in my town.”
“Jesus Christ, you moron - the police are already on their fucking way so it’s your goddamned funeral!” You screech, throwing your hands up in the air.
“How ‘bout you shut your whore mouth before I –” Unfortunately for him, Dale doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.
Moving with a speed that belies his size, you can only watch in what feels like slow motion your bounty hunter strikes. Slapping the other man dead in his mouth with enough force to send him staggering backwards.
“Let that be the last time I hear you disrespect this young lady.” Ari rumbles, the fierce sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “And her shop.”
“I think you cracked my tooth!” He wails, clutching at his injured jaw. “And all over this bitch and her—ah fuck!” You can’t help but wince when his drunken stream of consciousness is interrupted once more when Ari slaps him in the mouth for yet the second time.
“Now what the fuck did I just say, Dale?” His dark chuckle makes you shiver. “Nope – eyes on me, buddy. There we go.” Your bounty hunter does a quick side step, using his big body to shield you from view.
Feeling a bit dizzy, you lightly grip the back of your man’s shirt as you silently will your pulse to settle down. It had been awhile since you’d seen Ari like this. The last time he’d gotten physical with another man over you had been back at the local tavern. The night you credited with jumpstarting your relationship.
A pained noise escapes Dale’s throat as he takes another step backwards. And then, wouldn’t you know it? That motherfucker has the nerve to spit out a broken tooth. The sound of it hitting your hardwood floor seems to echo throughout the store.
“I reckon you’re gonna want to see a dentist about that.” Comes the lawman’s cheeky response before he turns to you.
Smiling down at you, he’s actually in the middle of instructing you to go check on Marisol when a hard covered tome connects with the side of his head. But to your surprise, Ari doesn’t even so much as flinch.
In fact, he barely reacts at all. At least not until the guy tries to tackle him, sending them both flying and you scrambling out of the way. Any real worry for your man fades when you see him quickly regain the upper hand. He lands a solid blow to the pudgy man’s kidney before pinning him to the floor with a knee in his back, his right arm trussed up in a way that looks mighty uncomfortable.
“Fuck you, asshole!” Dale squeals, belatedly reminding you of a stuck pig. “Fight me…” He wheezes. “Like a–like a man!”
“Dale, if I fought you like a man we’d be callin’ you an ambulance right about now.” Ari snarls before twisting the other man’s arm hard enough to make his bones snap. It only makes the man squeal louder. “Now apologize to my lady for making an absolute ass out of yourself tonight. And it had better be fuckin’ good, or I swear I’m gonna do a hell of a lot worse than a bruised kidney and dislocated shoulder.”
Seeing your man like this, acting so protective and possessive over you and your shopwas doing funny things to those damned butterflies in your belly. Although you liked to think that you were more than capable of handling yourself, knowing that you had a man in your life who wouldn’t think twice about defending your honor made you feel so unbelievably loved and cherished.
It also made you wet as fuck.
As your thoughts take an increasingly naughty turn, you get so caught up in the heat pooling between your thighs that you almost miss what’s transpiring in front of you. Key word: almost.
“I don’t think she heard you, Dale.” You watch as the man continues to thrash in Ari’s hold, his pathetic mewls of pain falling on deaf ears. “How bout you try that again?”
“I’m sorry!”
Covering your mouth with your hand, all you can do is nod. Seconds later, flashing red and blue lights capture your attention as two squad cars pull into your parking lot.
Frankly, it was about damn time.
You’re so grateful when Deputy Milton and another officer come waltzing through your front door. Just as Marisol makes her way back into your lobby.
Milton frowns the moment he catches sight of her. While you had suspected that he might have a thing for the young librarian, his reaction only seemed to confirm it. Because you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you saw him angry before today.
“We got a call about a disturbance?” The Deputy surveys the scene, his frown growing more pronounced at the sight of the books and candy strewn across the ground. “Would you happen to know anything about that, Dale?”
His response comes out muffled. Not that it really matters any.
“I already informed Mr. Edwards that you boys would be more than happy to escort him back to the station.” Comes Ari’s gruff reply. “As soon as he cleans up his mess.”
“You know, I think the owner of this establishment would really appreciate that.” Milton cheekily turns to the officer at his side. “Right, Elkins?”
“I reckon it’s the only gentlemanly thing to do.” Officer Elkins pauses to wave at Marisol before continuing. “Ms. Gonzalez mentioned something about you both being assaulted. Would either of you ladies like press charges?”
You both shake your head no. If anything, you were pretty sure that Marisol wanted this whole nightmare to be over the same as you.
“Alright. Guess that makes today your lucky day, then. Huh, Dale?” The officer hauls the man to his feet once Ari releases him. “Now, I’d get to cleanin’ if I was you. I’m anxious to get back to the supper I left behind at the station.”
“You can’t be…” The man sucks in a harsh breath. “That guy just broke my tooth and you expect me to…to…”
“Clean up your mess?” Milton helpfully supplies. “Absolutely.” All three men chime at the same time.
“And when you’re done, we’ll escort you to your room. I’ll let you know right now that it ain’t the Marriott, but I suppose it’s better than the cold, hard ground.” The deputy muses with a shrug. “Mariam kicked you out after this latest episode. Can’t say I blame her after what you did to her face.”
“Oh my God.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around Ari’s trim waist. “Is she okay?”
“Eh.” Milton casts a sideways glare at Dale, silently warning him that he better get a move-on. Or else. “She walked away from tonight with a couple stitches. And possibly one hell of a wake-up call.”
You decide you’re better off remaining silent as haggard-looking Dale Edwards begins collecting the books he’d upended. And you remain that way even as he begins haphazardly stacking them back on the shelf.
Which was fine. You’d simply fix it tomorrow.
Next he moves to pick the candy he’d thrown at you. A soft sigh escapes you when you feel your man’s warm, lightly calloused palm come to rest on the back of your neck, giving you a reassuring squeeze.
The entire process takes a little longer than it should, but given that the man is obviously inebriated, nobody sees fit to complain.
Eventually, the task is complete. And a defeated Dale is led away in cuffs before being placed in the back of Elkins’ squad car.
Good riddance.
And when you offer to give Marisol a ride home, you’re not the least bit surprised you’re intercepted by Milton, who eagerly agrees to escort the traumatized woman home. They’re out the door a few moments later, leaving you alone with Ari.
“Well shit.” He chuckles, his hand coming up to gently massage his shoulder as he watches you secure the lock. “That was…somethin’.”
Instead of agreeing, you silently turn to face him, your hands resting on your hips. After all of that commotion, you had just one thing on your mind. And you weren’t going to let this man out of your store until you got it.
“It probably wouldn’t hurt to break out the vacuum, Duchess. I can go grab it if you–”
You cut him off a look before grabbing a fistful of his shirt, tugging his head down to your level to capture his lips in a kiss. Swallowing his surprised gasp, you can’t help the moan of appreciation you let out when he grabs your ass – hauling you even closer to his muscled body.
“Fuck that.” You hiss, nipping at his plump bottom lip. “Don’t wanna vacuum.” Needing to taste more of him, you ultimately abandon his mouth in favor of kissing your way along his bearded jaw.
He’d made a man bleed for you tonight. And words simply could not express just how horny that made you.
“Oh yeah?” One of his large hands winds its way into your curls, wrenching your head back so that he can take control. “Then what do you want?” His eager tongue sweeps past your lips to dance with yours as he grinds his rapidly hardening cock against your belly.
“You.” Comes your heated growl as you force him backwards. “I want you.”
Ari doesn’t protest when his back collides against the wall, or when you all but rip the shirt from his body. In fact, he fucking loves it. Although he might not be sure exactly what he did to make you act so goddamned feral, he’ll be damned before you ever hear him complain.
“I’m right here, baby.”
“Need more.” You hardly recognize the sound of your own voice.
A wave of pure feminine satisfaction courses through you when you feel his big body shudder beneath your touch, his soft groan of pleasure driving you even closer to the brink. You rain sweet, hot kisses down the hard expanse of his chest, only pausing your ministrations long enough to give into the temptation to bite his left nipple, before continuing to move lower.
Right now, you were a woman on a mission. And nothing was going to stop you from reaching your intended destination. His turbulent blue eyes darken as they follow the path of your nails gliding along the ridges of his abs, causing goosebumps to rise across his tanned skin.
“Thank you for always protecting me.”
“Fuck! Always.” He grits out through clenched teeth.
Raw hunger fills you the moment you finally reach the fastening of his jeans. You quickly undo the buttons before dropping to your knees to undo the zipper of his fly with your teeth, making your intentions clear.
“Is this what you want, baby?” Your bounty hunter rasps, tangling his fingers in your hair once again. “This what you need right now?”
Meeting his gaze, you nod. Tonight, this man had unlocked something primal inside of you. And at this moment you wanted the taste of this man on your tongue more than anything. It takes you no time to free his impressive member from the confines of his pants before shoving them down his hair covered thighs.
Later, you might allow yourself to be embarrassed by the sound of appreciation the bubbles it’s way past your lips. But not tonight. Refusing to break eye contact, you wrap a hand around his girth as your head dips to lap up a salty bead of precum. A familiar warmth pools in your belly as your core spasms with need.
Ari’s chin tips back on a groan when you draw him into your mouth at the same time as you begin working him up and down with your hand. His fingers dig into your scalp as he spurs you on, loving the little noises you make as you greedily suck him off.
“That’s it, baby. My good fuckin’ girl.”
Emboldened by his response, you increase your pace, hollowing your cheeks with every bob of your head. It’s damn near impossible to take all of him – he was much too big. But you’d been practicing.
Thankfully, your bounty hunter had proven to be a patient man. He never complained whenever you decided you wanted to practice.
You’re rewarded for your efforts when you feel your man’s hips begin to move in time with your rhythm, damn near choking you in the process. But Ari doesn’t stop. Your pretty little mouth feels too goddamned good right now for him to even dream of it.
“Ah shit, Duchess.” He chuckles when you gag around him for the second time. “I know you love it like this. My girl loves chokin’ on my fat dick. Don’t you?” You try to respond as your eyes begin to water, your mascara running down your cheeks.
“Mmph!” Your free hand moves to cup his heavy sac, kneading and massaging as you continue to devour him. And then your mouth moves lower, briefly sucking on his balls in a move that has him rocking back on his heels. In response, Ari readjusts his grip on your curls, forcing himself deeper down your throat. Having anticipated this, you do your damndest to control your response by breathing through your nose.
It works like a charm.
“Fuck, baby.” His eyes roll back in his head as his impending orgasm threatens to overtake him. “Keep–keep me–oh fuck!”
And you were determined to take it all. You were gonna swallow him down like he was your favorite treat. Because let’s be honest, you’d come to crave him just as much as he craved you.
“Cum, Beast.” You purr, swirling your tongue around the plump mushroom head. Once. Twice. “Fucking cum for me.” You allow the wet heat of your mouth to engulf him once more, not missing the way his body begins to tremble beneath you.
He continues to thrust, his breathing becoming more labored as his movements grow increasingly erratic. He was so close. So goddamned close. You knew it. And so did he.
‘Give it to me, baby.” You beg between deep, ragged breaths, no longer caring about how desperate you sound. “Gag me. Make me choke on it.” Your thighs clench together as the heady thrum of pleasure dances along your skin.
And as Ari always liked to say, your wish was his command.
“FUCK!” He roars as he rears back, forcing you to take him to the hilt as jet after jet of his seed pumps its way down your throat.
Once again you’re forced to rely on breathing through your nose until he’s finished, making a show of swallowing him down. And then you lick your lips, not wanting to miss a drop of your man’s salty goodness.
Like the good girl you are, you remain on your knees as you patiently wait for him to recover. You knew without having to check that your panties were positively ruined. That came as no surprise.
“Happy Halloween, Beast.” You murmur, nuzzling your nose against his still half-hard cock.
“Oh yeah.” He responds with a quiet chuckle before gently cupping your chin. “You sure you’re okay, little Bird?” Your eyes flutter closed as he smooths the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip.
“Yeah.” You find yourself leaning into his touch, feeling safer and more protected than ever before.
“Good.”
You watch as he rests his head against the wall, his big body now fully relaxed. But you’re not done with this man yet. Not by a long shot. Which is why you don’t bother trying to hide the impish grin that spreads across your features as you reach for his dick once more.
“But I bet I’ll be even better once you fuck me.”
END
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Trying to get more into old movies because of this blog (I only know about half of these people and feel like a poser) do you have good recommendations on where to start or is it just a situation where you watch stuff and find what you like as you go?
you are not a poser <3 i myself am just here for the hotties.
here is my quick and dirty list of fun films to start with if you're new to old movies. and of course if you like one of these, do try to find more stuff as you go! there's no bad way to try out old movies.
(this list is not official and is SUPER quick. i'm tagging for content warnings where I can, but if I forgot something let me know.)
"I want to watch something SILLY!"
The Court Jester (Danny Kaye, Angela Lansbury, Glynis Johns, Basil Rathbone)—everyone in this movie is hot. everyone is in fancy medieval dress, which makes them hotter. everyone here is very silly. You can stream this on Hoopla, last time i checked, so you might be able to stream it through your library!
Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang (Dick Van Dyke, Sally Ann Howes, Lionel Jeffries, Gert Frobe)—some people hate this movie and to them I say What Is Wrong With You. dick van dyke is a hot absent minded inventor who lives in a windmill with his two adorable children, his gorgeous sheepdog, and a grandfather who is categorically useless. it feels like the two films mary poppins (1964) and willy wonka (1971) had a baby and that baby was born on roller skates singing an old broadway showtune. this one has been showing up in some odd places lately—I think you can catch it on Tubi or Hoopla? It's definitely around.
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (Jane Powell, Julie Newmar, Howard Keel, Russ Tamblyn)—my problematic fave. everytime i watch this i change my mind whether it's a sexist pile of garbage or a feminist paean, and fellas, today we're on the feminist paean bandwagon!! jane powell's millie is truly the star of the movie, she is the hero she drives the plot the narrative is on her side, and besides all that there are seven very hot men dancing next to her and six beautiful ladies making me bisexual. (on Tubi last I checked.)
The Duke Is Tops (Lena Horne, Laurence Criner)—I get a huge kick out of watching Laurence Criner and Ralph Cooper swindle everybody while also trying to put on a show; there's just something silly and sincere here, plus you get a ~musical extravaganza~ at the end when all is right as rain again. Free on YouTube I think?
"I want to watch something DRAMATIC that may make me FEEL SOMETHING."
Witness for the Prosecution (Marlene Dietrich, Tyrone Power, Elsa Lanchester)—I love a campy twisty turny mystery, don't you? :) I'm not going to talk about this one much because it's better to go in blind, but if you like Agatha Christie stories you'll probably like this.
To Be Or Not To Be (Carole Lombard, Jack Benny)—always relevant, always makes me laugh, also makes me cry. this takes place in poland during wwii so big tw for nazi imagery and mentions. (don't worry. this movie fucking hates nazis.)
Seven Samurai (Toshiro Mifune)—this one is Great Cinema™™™™™™™™™™™ for a goddamned reason
"I want to watch some stuff with the scrungles in it!"
Mr. Washington Goes to Town (Mantan Moreland)—I've been checking out more of Mantan Moreland's stuff because every time I see him in something I think he's delightful, and I really enjoyed this silly-spooky comedy. Does this story have a brain cell? No. Are the special effects and goofy slapstick fun? Yes. This is a fun example of an all-Black cast in a film that was made for Black audiences, and is a striking counterpoint to the stereotypical representation Black actors were given in white-targeted films, showing the enormous amount of talent and artistry the racist studios missed out on by excluding these actors. This is not A Great Film™ but it's still A Fun Time,™ with a goofy Laurel and Hardy type vibe. (It's free on Youtube.)
The Red Shoes (Robert Helpmann, Leonide Massine, Marius Goring)—hey kid, you wanna watch something fucked up? This movie is so fucked up. It's about ballet, it's about art, it's about technicolor, it's about dance and toxic relationships and making theatre and nightmares and ambition and death. A lot of these recs tend on the silly side (because I tend on the silly side) but this one is actually Serious Film and will definitely help you chat up Martin Scorsese should you ever meet him. Big content warning if you can't handle dark themes right now—this movie's pretty dark, not in the gore way but in the Haunting Creepy Image way. (it's also free on Tubi and Kanopy most of the time.)
The Invisible Man (Claude Rains)—my favorite of the vintage horror flicks and a great introduction to Most Dunked On Hot Vintage Man of All Time, Claude Rains. (it helps that you barely ever see him!) Very very silly but the special effects are just plain fun. (I think this is on Internet Archive in full?)
"Can I just get more hot people please?"
Flower Drum Song (James Shigeta, Nancy Kwan, Miyoshi Umeki, Jack Soo)—there are so many unbelievably hot people in this movie which is somehow very good (thanks to its cast) and also incredibly, horrifically bad (thanks to its white team of writers, directors, and producers). on the one hand, it's a mostly Asian cast in a big budget, beautifully designed MGM style musical! there's dream sequences, lots of fun dancing, crooning Rogers & Hammerstein cabaret moments, and just charm galore. it is also freighted with so. many orientalist assumptions and stereotypes, absolutely ridiculous shit that the writers ABSOLUTELY should have known better about in the 60s and nonetheless carried into this. this is a hard one to recommend because I loved this cast, and I loved seeing them in a context beyond the usual stereotypical bit parts so many of them frequently were limited to—yet the movie itself perpetuates so many stereotypes on its own it can be a hard one to watch, and I totally understand if it does not work for most people. tl;dr watch for Shigeta, Kwan, Umeki, and the others, but content warnings galore for one (really bad) case of yellowface casting, orientalist tropes, extremely stereotypical character types, etc. (On Tubi/Kanopy last I checked.)
Charade (Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, James Coburn)—this movie feels like a Hitchcock movie except I had a ton of fun watching it, which I can't always say for a Hitch film. (I told you my taste was bad.) This one is free on YouTube and thank god because Audrey wears a lot of Givenchy, Cary Grant wears spectacles and keeps almost dying, it's very exciting and thrilling and funny and sexy. I don't think there are any content warnings but it's been a minute since I watched it. (I should go watch it right now.)
The Big Sleep (Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall)—they're so hot askjdljhjghladkghjksahkhgslkahgshskjhgsalhgsahgjh. i like this one a lot :)
[this is NOT A FULL LIST of all the hot vintage movies to start with but it might give you some starting places! i banged this out as quick as I could at 2 am, so apologies that it's sloppy and not perfect.]
#recs#asks#coffee night#me 10 seconds after posting: oh fuck wings why didn't i mention wings. oh fuck sherlock jr. ohhh little women. oh CASABLANCA oh NO
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c08c25655dc98deb640ae1ea3414eeec/71db751c738cdc91-97/s540x810/04b30f5412c60c919c1b438fd20db18ec2fd9483.jpg)
summary: you are staying with your aunt this summer. she loves talking you to places only she enjoys, so when your night together was becoming increasingly irritating, a handsome stranger shows you that jazz clubs aren't so bad.
tags: pwp, old man logan, human logan, age gap, mention of divorce, afab reader, sex with a stranger, sex in a public space, p in v unprotected (that's spooky!! don't do it), creampie, dirty talk, a few pet names, sir kink, a little breeding kink (for like a line).
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! I'm kicking this off with a logan fic because i can't be stopped. this is around 3.1k words, so i hope you enjoy it. omg, my 2nd kinktober guys, yeppeee. IF YOU SEE ANY TYPOS NO U DIDN'T
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ae127a2cc899f50c661f16a154888675/71db751c738cdc91-d4/s540x810/1f194836b90e50ff99c6ef3c3740b8b5db370852.jpg)
The people here don’t rush—they settle. its something you had to learn the hard way, now that your parents left you with your aunt for the summer. She enjoyed the finer things in life, like pearls that had to sit perfectly, right above her clavicle, aged whiskey with no ice in it, and jazz clubs.
"Oh, I wish I grew up during those times... the roaring twenties. Everything was much more sophisticated andㅡ what's that word..? oh, polished." she went on. "Yeah, and more racist." you perk up. "Young lady! Your dad left you with me so you can straighten your act up. Now you speak when I tell you to." her voice was stern.
"Oh, now I truly feel like I'm in the 1920s, next up, my lobotomy!" you say with a strained smile whilst doing the infamous 'jazz hands'. By the time you finish, your aunt is red in the face, and it wasn't from the absurd ammount of rouge she had on. You clear out your throat and get up from the table. "I'll go use the washroom. Sorryㅡ" the woman scoffs as you turn around and leave "We'll talk about this home."
holding in your giggles, you swiftly make your way to the bathroom, finally letting go of the laughs you were keeping down as you close the door behind you. you didn’t hate your aunt, you hated that she tried to be something she wasn't; those pearls were not 'swanky originals' as she would say when people asked, but a $7 gift from her cheating, ex-husband. then again, maybe that why she felt the need to create this persona when others are around. and maybe that's why your parents sent you away from home, as to not hear about their inevitable divorce. it's not like you were a child. you were their child, but an adult nonetheless. alas, you were 22, stuck in a jazz club with your divorcee aunt, laughing all on your own.
well, almost.
"What's so funny, young lady?" what. the. fuck. why is there a man in the woman’s bathroom? and why is he talking to you? "Excuse me, old man, this is theㅡ" you raise your voice, and you turn around to face him but the words get stuck in your throat as you lay eyes on him. he was stunning, incredibly handsomeㅡ to say the least. His dark hair, streaked with the slightest touch of silver at the temples, was slicked back with utmost precision. A neatly trimmed beard framed his strong jawline, the salt-and-pepper strands giving him a distinguished air, as if life had brushed him with just the right amount of experience without taking away any of his vitality. His eyes, a deep, knowing hue, carried the weight of someone who had seen the world, yet still found wonder in it.
"Lady? Hey, 'r you okay?" he pulls you out of your trance. "What, oh- I, yeah! What are you doing in the ladies room?" you finally speak up again and he raises one of his brows before questioning you again. "You sure? 'm pretty positive the door distinctly said 'mens room' then againㅡ" he point to the sign printed on the door "I'm just an old man, so you might be right." oh, how you regret calling him that. even though he was oldㅡ not the old you meant when you said it. with your face scrunched up you turn around and read the sign.
fuck.
"What's it say, sweetheart?" he prys as you let out a defeated sigh. "mens room.." you reply. "what's that? sorry, I'm so old I can barely hear ya." you ball up your fists in embarrassment and say it louder. "mens room."
"Yeah...mens room." you can hear the sound of his footsteps coming closer from behind you. His voice was low, teasing, the kind that sent shivers down your spine despite your frustration. You could feel him standing behind you now, the warmth of his presence far too close for comfort. His breath brushed against the back of your neck, and you bit down on your lip to suppress the strange rush of nerves rising in your chest.
"Looks like you wandered in here by mistake," he said, voice smooth and almost amused. "But I won't hold it against you. Happens to the best of us, sweetheart."
Sweetheart. There it was again, the casual endearment that somehow made your skin prickle. You turned around to face him once more, trying to muster some semblance of composure, though it was nearly impossible with him standing near you. Up close, he was even more disarming, his gaze sharp yet somehow warm, like he was in on some private joke you hadn’t quite caught on to yet.
"I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to—"
"Don't worry," he cut you off, one corner of his mouth lifting into a crooked smile that sent your pulse racing. "No harm done. Besides, it’s not every day I get to have a conversation this... interesting in a bathroom." he motions his hands around.
"I didn’t mean to call you old. That was... uncalled for."
He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through the air between you. "Don't sweat it. I've been called worse, trust me. Besides, a little gray never hurt anyone, right?" He ran a hand through his hair, almost like he was flaunting it, as if daring you to disagree.
You found yourself at a loss for words again, caught between wanting to melt into the floor and the strange, undeniable attraction pulling you toward him. a little gray never hurt, indeed. "So," he continued, breaking the silence as his gaze roamed over your flustered expression. "What’s a lady like you doing in a men's room anyway? Trying to stir up trouble?"
You rolled your eyes, finally finding your footing again, and crossed your arms over your chest. "I could ask you the same thing, considering you're not exactly rushing me out of here."
"Maybe I’m just enjoying the company," he said, his voice dropping just a bit lower, sending a flutter through your stomach. "Or maybe I’m just waiting to see if you figure out how to get out of this mess." the man takes a step closer. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a small laugh. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he replied, stepping even closer, his voice now barely more than a murmur. "But you're still standing here, aren't you?" his palm now sitting on the small of your back, and it feels like you've been waiting for this your whole life. it was disarming, intoxicating—how effortlessly he touched you, as if he’d always known you, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
You drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady the pounding in your chest, but the way he looked at you made it impossible. His eyes, deep and piercing, held you in place, like they were pulling you into some unspoken dance, something wild and unnamed.
"Not saying much now, are you, sweetheart?" he whispered, his lips so close to your ear you could feel the heat of his breath. His fingers splayed ever so slightly against your back, and you swore you could feel your pulse thrum beneath his touch, like a melody. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to moveㅡ to break away from him this instant, but your feet were rooted to the spot.
"I'mㅡ" you tried to speak but your voice betrayed you. The curve of his mouth shifted into a slow, devilish smile as his hand slid a fraction lower, just above your hip, a silent invitation pulling you nearer.
"See?" His voice was like velvet, wrapping around you. "Maybe you didn’t wander in here by accident after all." he tuts. "Your daddy was right, you do need straightening up, sweet thing."
"Y-You know my dad?" and he can only chuckle. "I don’t, baby," he drawled, "But that little fight you had with your aunt a few minutes ago? Well, it was heard by more ears than you think." You’d thought your quarrel was contained, tucked away in a corner where no one could witness the messy unraveling of your family drama. But apparently, you were wrong—so very wrong.
"I-It wasn't really a fight.." you huff, trying to fight the growing warmth in your core. "Right, you were just being a brat. I got that, too." your eyes find his again, heart plummeting into your chest. "I'm good with brats." god, how wrong it all felt, yet you couldn't find a way. you didn't want a way out. your aunt was waiting, but you were dripping with arousal in the arms of an older man who was a complete strangerㅡ not to forget you were in the bathroom of a bar, where anyone could walk in on you at any moment. but was it so wrong to want what's wrong?
"So...You gonna let me teach you some manners, young lady?" The words hang between you, igniting something you couldn’t name , but you felt it, burning, spreading. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. No, you didn’t want to care. you felt drawn, tethered to him by something far more primal, more consuming. The risk, the recklessness—it was intoxicating. You couldn’t deny the hunger that twisted in your belly, the way your body leaned into his touch despite the alarm bells ringing faintly in the back of your mind. Maybe you’d always been waiting for something, or someone, to break you out of the mold you were supposed to fit into.
"You're thinking too much, sweetheart," he teases, his voice low and rough, sending warmth coursing through you. "Just let go. You know you want to."
The last piece of resistance crumbles. You don't want to fight anymore. You want to see where this will go, consequences be damned. You want the wildness, the chaos, the thrill of stepping outside the boundaries you've always kept yourself within.
Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and submission. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. "Good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches.
"Can you at least...tell me your name? please?" You’re caught in this moment, teetering on the edge of something dangerous, and part of you needs to know who has you under their spell.
"My name’s Logan, sweet thing," he says, the name rolling off his tongue with a rough edge, like it holds more than he’s letting on. His fingers trail lightly along your shoulder and down to your cleavage, the contact making your breath hitch. "But you won’t be needing it for now," he adds. "You'll be calling be sir. Understand?" whatever happens next, you're no longer in control so you nod your head eagerly, but he isn't satisfied. "Speak, girl."
"Yes, sir." you force the words out. The moment you say it, you feel the world tilt, like something has shifted between you, pulling you further into the depths of whatever this is. The man's lips curl into a smile yet again, he reaches behind you and you close your eyes. you hear a faint click and then a soft chuckle. "Let's hope no one gets a hold of the key, wouldn't want anyone to interrupt our time here, unlessㅡ" your cheeks heat up, your thighs now pressed further together. "You'd like us to get caught, huh? Dirty girl." those last words send your head spinning and you swear you could come just from his voice alone. you never thought you'd be in a situation like this, but deep down, you wished someone just walked through that door only to see you splayed out under Logan.
without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large golden mirror above the counter. Logan groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the sink, your hips snug in his grip. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous, baby."
"Thank you, sir." this earns you a tug at the hair, his face right in the crook of your neck. "Say that again, baby." and you do. even if to you he's just a stranger, the need to obey him burns at your insides. you can feel his hard-on rubbing against your ass, so you press up against him making logan hiss. "You getting cocky, miss? Or are you just that excited for an old man to fuck you?"
you look down. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up your almost see-through dress, finally taking a look at your soaking panties that were barely covering anything. His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. Without a warning, you hear the material rip and feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor. "Pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his trousers. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low. this doesn't last long, as you feel his rough palm grab at your face and pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the mirror and you see him shake his head. "No, no. You watch while I fuck you, understand?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly. "Words, baby, words."
"Yes, sir." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough, turning you into a whining messㅡ truthfully you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, logan starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thorns; every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- there we go.." he praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. Logan moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.
his hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Logan. "Fuckㅡ sir, please.." you manage. pulling at your hair he starts "What if your sweet aunt walked in just now, huh? What ifㅡ fuck! What if she saw how good you take this cock? Yeah, nice and deep, there ya go, baby, there ya go." while thrusting relentlessly into you, your legs barely holding up anymore.
Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? feel you up with my babies? let people inside this room, let them see your pussy filled with my come- you want that?" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, sir, I'mㅡ"
"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, sir!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. With a few more snaps of his hips you know he's close, nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your walls with white ropes. "God fucking dammit!" you know that you'll be bruised tomorrow.
the bathroom feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. Logan watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm beads of come trickling from inside of you, down your thighs. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths. you feel like you are floating.
The sounds of the world fade away, leaving just the echo of your heartbeats. The weight of what just happened presses down on you both, thick and suffocating as you exchange glances through the mirror. Finally, you break the silence. “What do we do now?” The realization sinks in. What's done is done. "We clean you up and pray no one heard anything, baby." Logan laughs reassuringly, sensing the uncertainty in your voice.
maybe jazz clubs nights with your aunt aren't so bad after all.
#kinktober#logan howlet smut#logan wolverine#logan howlet x reader#logan howlett#hugh jackman#logan x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#deadpool smut
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Completely random things about Disco Elysium characters that I think about
Klaasje isn't Garte's type and he is probably the only one immune to her charm (she even manages to fool Kim)
Garte never takes a step back and even yells at the Hardie Boys and mercenaries. He doesn't give a shit if he dies.
Cunoesse sleeps outside at night
Cuno used to do his homework so he is not 100% illiterate
Cuno is locked out of his house by his father (his father keeps his key) so Harry breaking into their apartment might be the only way he could get in again
Smoker in the balcony says that Harry looks like he does belong in the Homosexual Underground. He even flirts a little
Egghead dresses like a boideiro
Measurehead can't get hard for his babe which he uses some of his racist bullshit to explain
You can touch the hanged man's penis for some reason and electrochemistry even urges you to
Kim intervenes when Harry is talking to Paledriver or Joyce only out of concern for him
When Harry sees Judit he immediately remembers her as the horse faced woman because that was probably what he used to call her before his amnesia, at least in his head
Similarly, Jean uses the words middle-class, bangable and fuckable while describing Dora in a deadpan tone even though he never met her because that was probably what Harry exactly said about Dora while he was drunk. The drunks in the fishing village also confirm that Harry said a "whore" fucked him over.
Endurance and physical instrument holds Harry's repressed toxic masculinity and possible misogyny, although you can become a feminist or grow out of those thoughts throughout the game. If you don't, they will repeat thoughts about how women are whores and they are all crazy.
Both in Harry's first dream and last dream, his subconscious focuses on Dora's sexual aspects: Warmth of her mouth, between her thighs, wearing a white gown that shows her figure etc.
Kim will still like your karaoke performance even if it was a disaster and he will even defend your performance against Jean
Jules Pideu will try to encourage you if you tell him you can't do this anymore
What Judit feels for Harry is just pity
If you make a "joke" to Cuno about Kim dressing in drag Kim will think something like "YOU are the one who looks like a hooker in those promiscuous clothes"
Jean will also tell you that you look like you have 20 STDs if you are wearing something "promiscuous"
Trant used to be a drug addict and so he understands why Harry can't just quit drinking
Ruby does not actually want to hurt Harry and Kim. She even decreases the intensity of pale emitter because she feels bad for them
Evrart will say "you are NOT an ultraliberal Harry, get the fuck out of here" if Harry says that he is an ultraliberal
Kim will yell "are you stupid??" so loud that Harry will lose a health point if he says that he is a fascist
Andre is "not twenty" and he is already balding
"Pigs" lady used to take care of the Hardie boys when they were kids
Titus says "some Hardie boys are queerer than others and that's okay", looking at Glen
Glen is probably gay but he is the one who reacts the most when Harry says that Ruby likes girls
You can give the working class woman a hug
Harry can ask Joyce if she wants to fuck but she will evade it immediately, saving both of them from embarrasment
If Harry goes on a date with Lilienne, one of his skills will say that this is as far as he could go in his current state & he should be sober for more than a year for something more. Which indicates that if Harry did not keep drinking/he has recovered, he could actually pursue Lilienne and they could be something more
Kim knows that wearing anal beads in public would not make a sound
#Almost none of these are tied to each other. These just live in my head for some reason#Completely random#disco elysium#Things i'm playing
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A couple of weeks ago, in a day I didn't work, we had two fights that both required the cops to be called.
The first one was a couple of groups of teens who apparently had beef and pulled knives on each other. An old guy tried to break them up, and both groups turned on him. The issue did end up being resolved without any blood drawn, which is more than I can say for the next fight. (But people wonder why I'm so strict on enforcing the No Weapons rule. It's because I remember the last time someone got stabbed)
Fight number 2 was a drawn-out affair. For context, I work at a movie theater. There was a (white) couple who apparently were in their movie and causing a disturbance by throwing around racial slurs (I was not told the specifics but I'm assuming the N-word) at other (black) customers. For some reason, they weren't asked to leave, just to be quiet, and they eventually shut up. When the couple went outside after the movie, the other group of customers was waiting for them. This was the last show of the night, so the doors were all locked (our doors can be opened from inside when locked, but not the outside. So we lock them while the customers are still in the building). The group, who I'm told had at least 4 people in it, started beating on the couple. I'm not sure where the lady went, but she disappeared at some point. Meanwhile, a manager (I was not told which one) who's helping close up hears some commotion and looks over and sees the racist guy banging on the door and screaming, and he's smearing blood on the door. All the manager knows is that someone is being attacked, so they run over and open the door to let the guy slip inside before closing the door behind him while someone else calls 911. The group scatters. And guess what? The racist guy was pissed that the door was locked, so he punched the manager and also broke the door, because apparently racists don't know how to be greatful to a person of color for saving their ass (basically all my coworkers, including the managers, are POC. So even though I don't know who the manager was, I know they weren't white) So now charges are being pressed both for the assault on the manager and for the cost of repairing the door. But they fucked around and found out, I guess. Or should I say, talk shit, get hit. Granted, I can't really condone beating the shit out of strangers for calling you slurs... I don't really feel bad for the racist couple. Hopefully, lessons were learned, though somehow I doubt it.
Side note, there is actually a customer who calls *me* slurs, and has for quite a while, but I doubt it was the same customer, since she isn't white, and thus doesn't match the description of the racist couple. I didn't see her for almost a year, and then she came in a few weeks ago and was actually behaved and didn't seem to recognize me. So I'm not sure if she did some self-reflection or started on some meds/therapy or found Jesus or something, but whatever it is, I'm glad it's working for her, I guess. Though as far as I know, she's not mentally ill, just a Karen who doesn't like that she has to follow the rules like everyone else.
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Arranged Marriage chapter 5 part 2 rant so theres spoilers. beware😼😼
Castin, what the fuck. Baroness, what the fuck. Intacia soldiers, what the fuck. I am SICK OF THIS😭😭😭 SICK OF CASTIN SICK OF BARONESS SICK OF INTACIA SOLDIER'S RACIST ASSES OMFGGGGG I'm tearing my hair off my scalp this is so stressful I'm not even the baroness I FELT SO OVERHWLEMED AND STRESSED 😭😭
Like idk wtf happened to the baroness ik, but chapter 5 pt 2 baroness AINT MY BARONESS💀 WHY IS SHE MAKING EVERY SINGLE CHOICES WRONG OMFGG Anri don't even have that much of a screen time but I relate to her in every single way when it comes to everyone in that chapter PFFFTTT
Like we went from an imperial baddie that carried the damn peace to some pregnant lady that can't even talk through her own husband's paranoia to get his head out of his ass OMGGGG BARONESS IM ROOTING FOR U PLS DONT DO THIS TO ME I PLANNED SM STUFF FOR U🗣 oh and to add salt to the wound, ITS HER ABUSER THAT WHACKED HER INTO REALITY😭 baroness be testing my patience
Oh if baroness testing my patience, CASTIN TESTING MY WILL TO LIVE💀💀 Oh ur wife is pregnant and she let her guard down once just for her to get jumped? To protect her, LETS GO THROUGH THE DAMN BLIZZARD. CASTIN IK UR DUMB BUT UR BETTER THAN THIS. GOT EVERY SINGLE OF UR WIFE MOVEMENTS MONITORED BY DOZENS OF TRUSTED AND HIGHLY TRAINED SOLDIERS YET U RATHER HAVE HER GOING THROUGH A BLIZZARD??
I need someone COUGHBARONESSCOUGH put his head at the right state pls this cannot be real💀💀 'do u trust me' DO U EVEN TRUST UR WIFE😭😭 U DONT EVEN LET HER STAY AT HER OWN HOME FOR MORE THAN A DAY? 'It's because she almost got jumped while shes pregnant' I rather look over my shoulder and wait for the damn blizzard to die down rather than going through the blizzard blindly, especially with a group of people that's not even used to snows and blizzard
I'm still so fucken pissed at how Castin just disregard of what Baroness wants omfg she said she wants to stay at the castle LET HER STAY AT THE DAMN CASTLE😭 'how did they know we're staying at this shelter??' Bro did not listen a thing Anri said SPIES BRO SPIESSSS U GOT THE BARONESS AT UR CLUTCH WHILE UR TAKING HER, AGAINST HER WILL, AWAY FROM THE EMPIRE IN A MIDDLE OF A BLIZZARD.
Everytime castin speaks or make an order makes me want the baroness to say something ISNT THIS A LITTLE TOO FAR.. I get she's pregnant but ik she's not stupid baroness I don't see u as a stupid helpless damsel you've been better than this pslskdjdydhdh
Oh my god if I don't like castin in this video I HATE HIS DAMN RACISTS OF SOLDIERS. 'I hate the snow!! I hate the blizzard!! I wanna go home!!' OH AND GUESS WHO ELSE WANTS TO GO HOME? THE BARONESS. THE B A R O N E S S. SHES BEEN STAYING AT INTACIA FOR LIKE MORE THAN 2 YEARS WITHOUT EVER VISITING HER OWN HOMELAND. YET U ALL CANT EVEN STAY AT THE EMPIRE FOR A DAY GET GOOD NOOBS.
Anri is like the only sane mfer there istg I respect her sm in such a small amount of time ofmdjsg she better than me I'd teach that one soldier how Castin's old village died PFFTTT THAT WAS MEAN IM SORRY 💀💀💀
Characters' actions so ass that it got u ranting about it in tumblr
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Tea Soup and Sympathy
There’s already been plenty going around fandom about the significance of soup this season, so I’ll just condense soup discourse down and summarize that it’s about love and nourishment. But sometimes, soup is not real soup.
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When we first meet Zheng Yi Sao, she is posing as Susan the Soup Merchant. But before the end of the episode, it’s revealed that her soup-slinging ways are all artifice.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/dc6267d42f537db5f97308d6e2309ac7/011108d30c04df04-bc/s540x810/3eba3e394d205ae33f420d82533c47d4d360910b.jpg)
And just as soup is love, this Yi Sao’s soup-slinging pretense is indicative of the fact that she uses the semblance of sympathy to manipulate people to her own ends. Let’s look at the case study of her interaction with John Bartholomew: Having successfully sacked his ship, she gets news that he wants to shoot himself, but only with the captain that bested him watching. Yi Sao attends the cabin of of the clearly panicking John with Stede and Olu in tow, and lets John show his ass with his inground racist and misogynistic assumptions; with him first identifying the white guy as the captain, then the MOC, and finally the WOC. In spite of the insult, Yi Sao meets him with the contrivance of compassion to give validation his heightened emotionally volatile state, acknowledgement of the cultural assumptions that are making this a particularly difficult defeat for him to accept, but also plays INTO his misogyny by suggesting that if he follows through with killing himself that his final deed in life with be the (implicitly shameful) act of surrendering to a woman.
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Once she has gotten him to a place where he feels like someone is listening to him AND understanding where he’s coming from, and shamed out of taking his own life, she applies the social lubricant to foster that warm, fuzzy feeling of camaraderie by suggesting they have drinks.
Pay close attention to the language she’s using when she’s talking John around. After John complains that he’s just trying to feed his crew, and maybe make a little extra money on the side, Yi Sao jumps in with more affirming statements to demonstrate that she understands and appreciates the obstacles he’s facing in obtaining his goals, and concludes with a restatement of his thesis:
“Sure, but they won’t let you. The Spanish, the Dutch, the fucking English! Everyone is cracking down on the little guy! Like, hello! How’s a pirate supposed to make a living?”
Having established that she understands where he’s coming from, she starts the bridge-building portion of her agenda; inviting him to identify with her because of common interests, but simultaneously downplaying her authority, AND using a rhetorical question to which he can easily agree in order to prime him to continue agreeing with her further down the line:
“I don’t speak for everyone, but I didn’t get into this business to fight other pirates, did you?”
She’s also using neurolinguistic programming: all the while that she’s talking to him, she’s reaching her hand out to him - a gesture that mimics the way she is metaphorically reaching out to him, and inviting him to reach back. She then floats a hypothetical that ALSO is easy to say “yes” to, but posing it as a question rather than an order to encourage him to buy into the idea rather than just submit to it:
“What if we could all work together, support each other?”
From here, she plays coy - feigning reticence to float an idea as though it’s TOO audacious, and employing a little false modesty, suggesting her idea is stupid, to not only, once again, play into John’s misogynistic zeitgeist, but to allow him to feel that, when she DOES give voice to her ultimate plan, he can feel like HE won one over on HER by enticing it out of her.
“I don’t know… be, um…Oh! Forget it! It’s stupid. What if… What if we could be partners?”
And that, ladies, gentlemen, and those betwixt and beyond, is how you get someone to cheerfully buy into their own subjugation in the coming invasion.
And make no mistake - invading and conquering the Caribbean IS what Yi Sao is after. She's not looking for partners - she's looking for subordinates. She’s very clear about that with Stede back aboard the Red Flag.
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Her soupy subterfuge in the Republic of Pirates was a reconnaissance mission to scope and get info on the local talent in order to try and get them to either join her or die. But she’s not picky either way. Her red flag fleet is already making its way over land at the isthmus of Panama. This IS going to happen. So are you on-board or not?
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“Okay,” I hear you say (or not. I don’t know you well enough to put words in your mouth), “but she’s really nice to her crew, providing them with gentle exercise and kind words and soup that, according to all the Caribbean pirates who taste it, is so good it might be the best thing they’ve ever tasted. What makes you think it’s manipulation and artifice, and not the real thing. Maybe she’s just actually compassionate, but her compassion has its limits - the proverbial iron fist in a velvet glove, as it were?”
Because we’ve already seen this behavior before. Using alcohol to lower inhibitions, using both shame and sympathy to motivate participation, using neurolinguistic programming to let the other party think that THEY’RE the one driving the action, and even being calculatedly withholding to make people think they’ve won something when they extract it from you:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ec76e8050e435ab8426f6bf3c5cdf1bf/011108d30c04df04-01/s540x810/1ed9e991bb21182faa4ffbf6e4e64929635711c5.jpg)
That’s right. It’s Calico Jack, the master manipulator (RIP, asshole) all over again. But whereas Jack leaned further on the typically masculine end of the shame-to-sympathy scale with bullying and establishing himself as a subject matter expert, Yi Sao is coming at it from a decidedly more typically feminine place, encouraging self-identification and downplaying her strengths and contributions. But Yi Sao also ups the game transforming into what the other person needs her to be to close the deal. With Jackie the bossbitch businesswoman, Yi Sao is the Money Bitch. With John Bartholomew the prototypical pirate drowning in toxic masculinity, she’s a feminine fount of sympathy and understanding who, gosh, just CAN’T be sure that her silly little ideas are any good unless a big, strong man affirms that for her. And with Stede, she’s a girl-friend who has BEEN THERE and wants to dish about his toxic ex and all the complicated feelings about that.
So when we hear:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/334d38587e471ece464b1e403e83f228/011108d30c04df04-9f/s540x810/774b7766a9209863aafa0e57ba30f95e235a6b22.jpg)
It should immediately throw red flags, both for us AND Stede. He was THERE when she used this voice with John Bartholomew. There might not be any liquor, but she KNOWS that Stede has said that he encourages this kind of “talking it through” behavior, so she doesn’t need to get him to buy into it first. Instead, she launches directly into the same kind of tactics she employed before. She hears Stede say “[The crew] couldn’t keep living like that. Ed can be quite troubled.” Out come the affirming statements to demonstrate that she understands where he’s coming from, and restatement of his thesis: “You must feel so weird. Like you’re glad he’s alive, but then he did all this evil shit to your friends?”
Then on to bridge-building (literally and figuratively - look how she reaches out to clasp him on the shoulder) to invite identifying with her: “I’ve dated my fair share of guys on ‘Wanted’ posters.They’re hot.”
She doesn’t bother with downplaying her authority, because Stede has just confessed to being a novice in terms of romance, but she is so calculated with her wording, floating a scenario that invites Stede to come up with a solution for: “But it always ends in a massacre and then the wrong people get hurt.”
So when she “caves” to his suggestion of “Maybe we could avoid that happening here?” with “I AM feeling a little merciful today,” it begs the question:
What, exactly, was going to be the price of this “mercy” if Auntie hadn’t interrupted?
So Roach isn’t wrong when he praises the soup they get aboard the Red Flag as “Beautiful, complicated, and balanced.” It IS a complicated act, an artfully balanced deception, and beautiful in its artifice. It HAS to look better and more enticing than the real thing. Because it will never give you the actual nourishment you need.
#ofmd s2 spoilers#ofmd s2e3#ofmd s1e2#ofmd s2e1#ofmd#our flag means death#my modest contribution to fandom
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[re: this post]
So this neighbor of mine, an older white woman around my mom’s age, who has Multiple Sclerosis and severe scoliosis, as I’m headed out, she comes up to me and says, “Odin! The next two years are going to be great!” And I’m so dumb that it didn’t occur to me what she was talking about, so I go, “What happens in two years?” And she replies, “The Republicans won the election and the next two years are going to be great!” And yeah, I feel a little badly now, but I lost it and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “THEY’RE ALL FUCKING RACISTS! THEY’RE ALL TERRIBLE EXCUSES FOR HUMAN BEINGS!”
And she stepped back and she just looked sO confused.
But that didn’t stop her from putting her foot even deeper into her mouth. She immediately goes, “But at least Trump won, right?” And without missing a beat, I said, “He’s an even bigger racist asshole than the other Republicans,” and I just kept on walking past her.
It isn’t like me to snap at anyone like that, especially elders (and especially disabled elders), but I guess there’s always a first time for many things. And it was the day after the election too. I’m still fucking raw about it. I know it might seem like a small thing when you consider all the bad things that are about to happen under a second Trump term, but all I could think about was the conversations I had with my sisters and my mom, and I was sad for them because for the first time, I realized that it was possible that none of them might ever see a Black woman president in their lifetimes, and that made me incredibly sad. (Yeah, yeah, I know all about the dangers of weaponized identity politics, and I know that all skin folk ain’t kin folk — but deep down, I felt how I felt).
Anyway, I keep thinking about how happy that white woman was. If she had approached me differently, or maybe at a different moment in time, perhaps I would have responded with a more reasoned, mature, less visceral tone. But I still feel like she deserved it needed to hear it. Like, read the damn room, lady. I am unambiguously Black. You cannot be that tone deaf and just assume that I would share in your joy about openly racist and misogynistic candidates winning.
LOL, I fully expect to get the “angry Black man” treatment from my neighbors now, because I dared to yell at a white woman. Idc.
I’m still pressed.
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༒Here’s hcs no one asked for.
James Patrick March.
Ladies and gentlemen.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fcdded3c57aab46b22e16ab47ef94508/d6fc0894fd7400eb-a4/s540x810/4158b1cdb27bacb3c2767a2296ec14fec9b9c6b1.jpg)
Warnings: murder, drugs, blasphemy, nsfw themes.
Sorry if there’s any misspelling or grammatical mistakes I wrote this after midnight.
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I will make it a habit to put the song I listen to while writing.
Please kiss his dimples.
He listens to indie rock sometimes. Secretly
He says he hates pets, but you’ll catch him petting a stray cat. American Psycho reference
He went heavy on cocain in early 30s, right before he died.
He likes to fuck religious people before killing them. In a way that mocks god and the Bible. I’m really sorry
He had multiple affairs while he was married to Elizabeth.
Although he thought all these years Elizabeth turned him to the police he still loved her. But when Mrs. Evers admitted it was her he never spoke to her again. For eternity.
James likes age gaps, I think he married Elizabeth when she was 21/22 and he was 30 I guess correct me with accurate numbers if I got it wrong.
Unlike Kai he wouldn’t kill his lover yet alone lay a single finger on her. If she simply did something wrong he will correct her in private. After defending her in any situation of course.
Or simply by punishing her while having intimate time. Light spanking. Nothing more.
If someone did you wrong or got on your bad side, whether you’re his lover or friend, consider that person gone forever.
He cares deeply for his circle and students.
He didn’t miss a single devil’s night.
He likes the sound of screaming late at night while wandering through the hotel’s hallways.
He’s a night owl.
When he was alive he enjoyed car rides at night and did it a lot while hunting for someone to kill.
He loved the ocean but hated the sand.
He knows all the casino games. And a skilled player too.
He knew he was going to hell. And he believed there’s a God who trapped him for eternity in the hotel.
He plays the piano.
He refused to use a smart phone until the Countess told him she would follow him on instagram. Simp
He loves talking shit about other ghosts and judges them all the time.
He was racist until he met Queeny.
He hated Jews too.
#misscherrysworld#RTITA#american horror story#evan peters#ahs#james patrick march#the countess#elizabeth johnson#hotel cortez#ahs hotel#james patrick march headcanons#ahs headcanons#Spotify
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✨Chris Sturniolo Headcanons✨
For Black Girls✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5f7071e738629f87b204c223d6336c25/d2e0e89af96dcbd7-52/s540x810/6f8560cf00d5bb4ba31964c4df6835a9a7f5e6a8.jpg)
💋 Chris loves black girls
I’m sorry but in my head Chris prefers black girls. Like Atlanta Georgia black girls… thick, dark, dressed to the nines, hair done, acrylic nails 💅🏽💅🏾💅🏿absolute fucking queens. Like I don’t describe Y/N in any way but best believe if it’s a Chris fic she’s black to me.
💋 He sees fucking hates racists
This doesn’t actually need to be said but I figured We’d get this out of the way first. Chris definitely listens to you when you talk about race issues so he knows all about micro aggressions. He always notices them and stands up for you every time. “Baby, if anyone says that shit to you again I’m gonna catch an assault charge!”
💋 He owns silk sheets
This man most definitely would buy a full set of silk sheets after you sleep over his house for the first time and he notices you brought your own satin/silk pillowcase. He doesn’t realize it’s for your hair until he surprises you with them the next time you sleep over and you tell him. “Oh, I just thought you were being bougie.” Then he buys more sets of them because he decides to throw away all his cotton sheets.
💋 He learns your hair care routine
Chris is the only white person you trust to touch your hair. He makes taking care of your hair into a really loving and intimate experience. If you’re in the bath he adds epsom salts, sets up candles, and does a bunch of stuff to set the mood. “You have any music requests, Mama? If not I’m probably just gonna put on the sexy time playlist.” He sits out side of the bath and takes his time washing and conditioning your hair making sure to detangle and section it the way you taught him. He does the same thing when you’re in the shower except he stops occasionally to pull you close and feel you up. “Come here, Baby. You’re so fuckin’ pretty and you smell so nice and clean. I just can’t resist.”
💋 He sits with you when you’re getting your hair braided and brings you snacks
Before your appointment he packs you a lunch bag full of snacks for the both of you because of course he’s coming with you. “Alright, Baby, we’ve got Doritos, McDonald’s chicken nuggets, and a shit ton of candy. We’re all set to go.” If you think he’s not gonna come when you’re gonna be in the chair unable to get away from his yapping you are sorely mistaken. He’s always keeping everyone entertained and happy. “What’s up ladies! You have any tea for me today.” It’s just him feeding you snacks and having silly conversations with you and the person doing your hair. If you ever show up to your appointment without him everyone misses him.
💋 He pays for your acrylics
He insists on giving you the money every two weeks because he’s just “helping to keep his princess feeling pretty” He also likes to help you figure out designs and themes nails. He sends you random texts with nail inspo all the time. “I know a zoo theme seems extra, but let me cook, Mama!” I’m certain that he makes you get a C for Chris on one of your nails every time you get new set. This probably isn’t exclusive to black girls but like as a black person who gets their nails done I like to go all out on the designs and shit gets expensive.
💋 You convince him to wear a durag
He only agrees to do it one time in the house. You use the situation to teach him its use and significance in black hair care. It takes him a few tries and you have to demonstrate it a lot but eventually he is able to put it on correctly and he looks super cute. Not cute in a “this is a good look for you” kind of way, but in an aww “the little white boy is engaging in cultural appreciation” type of way. “I think if anyone saw me like this I would get cancelled.”
Taglist
Masterlist
Idk if people put their tag lists on headcanon posts??? Pls advise
@daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @rafecameronsbitch @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @cind2224 @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @chrattstromboli @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339 @sturnzsblog @spotconlon55 @robins-scoop @junovrsmp4 @sturnlover4eva @blahbel668 @lilahnowheretobefound @luxy-nyx @tuffsturns @m0r94n @sturnstvs @pepsicolapussy333 @maddyslifesstuff @dogblof @honeymoonxxz @xplr-sturns-e-m @hayhjelmstad15
#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo#chris x reader#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x you#matthew bernard sturniolo#nick sturniolo smut#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets smut#sturniolo triplets x reader
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Introducing... 8 am in the (fucking) neighborhood
Papyrus is back with the groceries.
Unfortunately, his Karen neighbor is still mad at him for ruining her perfect white wall.
Alas, Papyrus is in trouble once again! (or not).
You can read it down the line or on AO3:
8 a.m in the neighborhood
Papyrus finally had his groceries. After a long morning that almost felt like an entire year, the house was finally in sight. He took a look at the clock in his car. He had to meet with Undyne at 2 p.m., which meant he would have to leave at precisely 1:38 p.m. to be on time. It would leave him plenty of time to clean the groceries and wait by the door until it was time to leave.
The skeleton turned at the end of the road to park in his alley. Or at least he intended to. Because he had to stop almost immediately.
His two bins were in the middle of the alley again.
Oh no. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Please, please just leave him alone…
A terrible knock on his window made him jump out of his bones. He looked up in disbelief. Here she was once again.
His Karen neighbor.
Papyrus tried to keep his cool. Everyone said he was the most patient monster they had ever met. So he was going to honor them and be patient with her as well. He could do this. He was the Great Papyrus after all!
He forced a smile and rolled down the window.
"DEAR NEIGHBOR, WE MEET AGAIN! IS SOMETHING WRONG?"
"Something wrong? You dare to ask me if something is wrong? You ruined my wall!"
Papyrus turned around. Ah, yes. He almost forgot the amazing crack he made in that horrible perfect clean white house of hers. She was just dramatic. If he closed his eyes hard enough, no one could notice it.
The skeleton rolled his eyes. Where was he? Ah yes, being patient. He was the great Papyrus and according to Tumblr, he was supposed to be nice and always smiling, because cute boys can't be sad or have a bad day. He couldn't betray his Tumblr fans. He needed to stay in his role. Hum… What would his Tumblr fans do in these types of situations?
Oh!
He knew!
"RUINED IS A BIG WORD. YOU COULD EASILY HIDE IT. I SUGGEST YOU PUT A PRIDE FLAG ABOVE IT AS WE ARE IN JUNE, THE PROUDEST MONTH OF ALL!"
Well, for sure, Karen didn't expect that. Her face turned from angry to disgusted very fast. Did he say something wrong?
"You are one of them?"
"THEM?"
"Those people who are identifying to helicopters and wearing pink thongs in the streets. Don't you think you did enough already? You're going to contaminate the children with your… Ideology. We're respectable people in this street, you can't just show your pink string to the children and call that an identity. That's absolutely disgusting."
Papyrus shuts his mouth in a loud bone noise. He took a deep breath, then made a slow turn towards the screen of his phone, hanging to the opposite window of his car.
"DEAR TUMBLR FANS, I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS AS I WILL BE OBLIGED TO USE A LOT OF STRONG WORDS IN THE NEXT FEW SECONDS THAT ARE NOT VERY PAPYRUS AT ALL BUT HOLY FUCK. EXCUSE ME FOR A SECOND."
"Who are you even talking to? Do you hear voices?"
Papyrus forced a huge smile and met her eyes.
"JEEZ LADY, YOU ARE SOMETHING ELSE. I KNEW YOU WERE A RACIST FUCK ALREADY, BUT THAT'S EVEN MORE FUCKED UP SOMEHOW. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING? DO YOU THINK THIS IS A NORMAL THING TO SAY TO SOMEONE? DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT EDUCATION WHEN YOU HAVE THE LEVEL OF EDUCATION OF AN OYSTER."
She gasped loudly.
"I am not an oyster, you sick asshole!"
"THIS IS NOT THE POINT! YOU COULD BE A MOLLUSK OR A CRUSTACEAN FOR ALL I CARE, THIS DOESN'T CHANGE ANYTHING: YOUR OPINIONS ARE DISGUSTING, HURTFUL, AND DISGRADING. INSTEAD OF BEING JEALOUS OF ME AND MY GROCERIES, WHY WON'T YOU BUY SOME DECENCY TO THE GROCERY STORE? IT'S JUST TWO MINUTES DOWN THE STREET."
"I will talk to your brother about your behavior! If I can't make you realize how wrong you are, maybe he will! I can't believe how immature you are! What a shame for your kind! And gay with all of that! Poor, poor children! What an example you are for them!"
"FIRST OF ALL, I'M NOT GAY BUT ASEXUAL AND AROMANTIC. SECONDLY, I AM AN ADULT AND CAN TALK TO MYSELF. AND LAST…"
"if it can help, i don't identify as a helicopter but i for sure wear bright pink thongs. they're cute." Sans said from the first-floor window, watching the drama show playing in the street. "also, my bro is right. he's not gay. i am though. need something else?"
Karen opened and closed her mouth in shock, like a dying goldfish. She then let out a scream of rage and left, raging. Sans lazily waved goodbye at her as Papyrus, very satisfied, flipped his two middle fingers in her back. Anyway. He still had groceries to clean.
Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad after all.
Fuck Karens.
#let papyrus say fuck#letpapyrussayfuck#undertale#undertale ao3#undertale fic#undertale fanfic#papyrus#papyrus is mad#sans wears pink thongs#chaos ensues#have fun
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I can't with this anymore uhhhhhhggggg
"AITAH for creating a private doc to keep notes on what my racist teacher said"
I have this teacher who said a lot of shit (eg. "Ashkenazi people were Europeans forcefully converted by invading Jews", "the Torah mentions Jesus and Mohammed", "Judaism started in Ethiopia because it's the oldest religion and therefore must come from where all people do", "getting angry at Houthis for attacking Israel is like getting angry at a l*nched man for struggling on the noose", etc.). No one cared that she said these things besides a boy she kept deadnaming, a girl who she used as an example talking about slave r*pe, and a kid who she humiliated in front of the class a few times.
When I reported this shit to the dean he was concerned as fuck and 100000% on my side because he's really cool. And to report the stuff, I'd been using a private google doc to keep track of what she'd said. The principal though was overly optimistic and decided instead of talking to the teacher in private, she would hold a class discussion! Yaaaaaaayyyyyyy. I was less than pleased by this, and at the discussion most people took her side. I eventually decided to share the doc with the other three kids so I could get better firsthand accounts.
But then the doc started spreading.
One of the other kids shared it with this boy who she used to mock and throw under the bus, and he shared it with his friend. Who shared it with another friend. Things went like whisper-down-the-lane until someone, I don't know WHO, got a hold of it and shared it to the whole. Fucking. Class. Including the teacher. People started claiming the doc was Islamophobic and didn't elaborate why, and saying we were only "attacking" the teacher because she was Muslim. Or that we only reported this stuff to get drama and attention. The principal herself even said that this was happening because we have varying cultures, which is BS because I have plenty of Muslim friends who have never said ANY of the shit this lady has. That is waaaayyyy more Islamophobic of a statement and I felt offended on my friends' behalf with that one.
I feel bad for the teacher for seeing that doc, but then again, I myself am suffering because someone leaked all my personal opinions to the class. I'm a super conflict avoidant person because I have severe ADHD and OCD and mild autism (ASD1, to be specific), and I hate being involved. I want to sympathize for her. I really do. But when asked to apologize for what she said, she started defending herself and saying we were all closed-minded for not thinking what we previously thought was wrong. My mom wants to take me out of the class to do an independent study project so I can pass the required course without being in that classroom. Because nothing gets in the way of Jewish parents. Especially during Passover.
My classmates are saying she's a sweet lady and it was wrong of us to get upset at her, so are we the bad guys and/or am I overreacting to this scenario.
Anon I'm going to be very honest here. You are absolutely NTA here. And you're not overreacting at all. Your teacher is being very offensive, not to mention historically wrong.
And the doc? If she didn't want to have her offensive opinions called out in front of everyone, maybe she should stop being offensive.
I'm going to say, personally if she were my teacher the doc would be the least of her problems. She would not like me very much.
I hope you're safe tho, you and the other students she's hurt. You don't deserve to be treated like this
-🐺
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