#foster the people icons

[onlycarlson]

like if you save

[spacedlexi]

as someone who likes to occasionally look through the blogs of the accounts that show up in my notifs it really is sad to see so many blogs now just be personalized empty spaces :(

[fromtheseventhhell]

They're so twins-coded

[dreadfuldevotee]

This is a inconsequential bit of Liberalism™️ but its kind of jarring to see a footage of NYCC's production of Ragtime where the audience is giving Joshua Henry a standing ovation after performing "Make Them Hear You". A truly beautiful song, don't misunderstand, of a Black man telling others to continue speaking truth to power and to teach and empower eachother to seek justice without fear, But that is immediately followed with said black man being gunned down by the police after being promised safety and a fair trial. Plus, in the prior act his wife and mother of their child, a young black woman, is also murdered by the police. And...I don't know. It feels hollow out here, at this moment

[mariocki]

Twisted Nerve (1968)

"Martin's dead. He's been bad. N- not Georgie. Bad, bad Martin. And now... I lay me down to sleep, pray the Lord my soul to keep... if I die before I wake... if I die before I... wake..."

[strlight-manifkr]

thing i like in music: when an artist uses a sample/edited vocals in a song but when they sing it live it becomes something different. like in ftp's lotus eater when there's the 'aaahhh~' in the chorus but during live performances mark goes "AAAAAGHHH"

[bruciemilf]

I know this is a DC blog but I NEED dad Logan. Get that murder teddy bear some kids ASAP.

Fancast + non canon Headcanons ahead.

BOBBY MY BELOVED / 16

“Sure everything in my life is terrible. But at LEAST I’m gay”

Makes pop culture references Logan doesn’t understand. “Logan threw the first brick at stonewall” “what are you SAYING” “he’s an ally”

Can, will, and has gaslight Logan into thinking he’s homophobic just for not letting Bobby do what he wants

Stole a beer from Logan once and they found him drunk crying at 3 am. He calls Logan to apologize about it. “I’m sO sorryyy. You know I love you??” “Go to bed” “noOoo” Logan is next to him.

Has a secret YouTube channel and everyone watches for Logan interactions specifically

Mabel Pines coded

KITTY… that’s his half pint your honor. / 17

Logan is terrified. Why are you such an easy kid. Why aren’t you rebelling? Why isn’t defiance bleeding on your fists?

Why aren’t you clawing and biting and snarling for your freedom? Why aren’t you being a kid? Who do I have to skin-

Daughters are not supposed to exist quietly.

I hc that Kitty’s family is extremely unsupportive of her being a mutant, — but they’re just traditional in general. Specifically she’s petrified of being around/existing along men.

Certified babysitter when Logan’s not around. She’s so big sister.

“guys!1!11!!!! mr. Logan said not to do that!1!1!1”

Logan BEGS her to be a shitty teenager for like 10 minutes. Be bratty!!! Tell him to fuck off! Throw a tantrum!!!! “But I’m not a kid.” “You’re MY kid.”

JUBILEEE daddy’s girl / 15

Problem Child TM

Plays Rock n Roll by Avril Lavigne at 4 am to piss Logan and her siblings off when they annoy her

Grounded all the time but if she fake cries Logan will shamefully relent.

Always puts Logan’s patience to the test because she anticipates him leaving/giving up on her

Foster child with issues. She spent half her life looking for people and the other half being abandoned by them. This won’t be any different.

Except Logan is very good at fighting destiny.

Your honor I don’t CARE Logan is made to be a girl dad!!!!

“On the spectrum. Not saying which one”

STRONG she/they energy

Most affectionate with Logan out of all the kiddos. Her love language is terrible pancake making (Logan eats them anyway) and cat cuddling.

ADHD icon

LAURA (murder baby) / 7

Brings dead birds/mice to her family members (affectionate)

Charles has the bright idea to enroll her in school with the kids. “It’s important for children to socialize with peers their own ages.” “Can’t socialize if they’re all DEAD.”

That meme of the little boy and his father with an arrow in his shoulder

Youngest child privilege

Steals Bobby’s phone and shoot’s hilariously off angle family vlogs. One of them includes her stealing Logan’s motorcycle while he runs after her

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - July 8-14

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $Kaybarr1735! And if you tip me and give me a way to contact you, at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week!

1. Zoo welcomes birth of four endangered horse foals

“[The Marwell Zoo in GB] said it was "delighted" to welcome the arrivals to the endangered Przewalski’s horse herd. All four are female and said to be "doing well" after two were born in May and two in June. […] “These horses, that were previously listed extinct in the wild, are an example of how zoo breeding programmes can help restore threatened species around the world.” […] All the Przewalski’s horses alive today are descended from just 12 individuals. Current estimates suggest there are 178 mature individuals living in the wild.”

2. Restoring woodlands and planting trees for sustainability success

“In 2023, [the Marwell Zoo] planted 9,000 new trees […] both within the zoo and on our surrounding land. […] Marwell tries to encourage natural feeding behaviour and nutrition by including leafy material [in animals’ feed] as much as possible. […] Planting more trees and enhancing management of our existing woodlands, prepares the way to further self-sufficiency in browse production in the future. Plus, it creates new habitats for wildlife in our woodland areas.”

3. Inclusive Playgrounds Allow Children Of All Abilities To Play

“With ramps allowing children in wheelchairs to ascend the central play structure, as well as numerous other swings and apparatus usable for children of all abilities, the 16,000-square-foot P.K.’s Place is St. Paul’s first fully inclusive playground. […] To be universally accessible, a play area must have at least 70% of its play features fully accessible, far more than required by the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). […] Play areas should allow parents and grandparents with disabilities to participate as well.”

4. Combination treatment can increase human insulin-producing cells in vivo

“[Diabetes-model mice] were treated with the combination therapy [of a plant product called harmine and “a widely used class of type 2 diabetes therapy”] and their diabetes was rapidly reversed. Strikingly, human beta cell numbers increased by 700 percent over three months with this drug combination. "This is the first time scientists have developed a drug treatment that is proven to increase adult human beta cell numbers in vivo. This research brings hope for the use of future regenerative therapies to potentially treat the hundreds of millions of people with diabetes," said Dr. Garcia-Ocaña, the paper's corresponding author.”

5. Decades of Dedication: Australia’s Largest Ongoing Urban Restoration Project

“[Friends of Lake Claremont] has transformed the area into a thriving ecosystem, re-establishing native habitats and fostering biodiversity. This year, 800 native seedlings (100 trees, 350 shrubs and 350 ground covers) have been planted on the northwestern buffer of Lake Claremont. Volunteers replaced a large Port Jackson fig (Ficus rubiginosa) affected by [beetle] infestation with native plants to enhance the local wildlife habitat, thereby benefiting insects, frogs, birds and brown bandicoots. […] Overall, the project contributes to the area’s function as a regional ecological corridor, linking inland bushlands, the Swan River and the Indian Ocean.”

6. Important habitat for fish in Heart of the Fraser now conserved

“British Columbia’s iconic salmon now have more protected spawning habitat in the lower Fraser River, thanks to the Nature Conservancy of Canada’s (NCC’s) conservation acquisition of Carey Island. […] Carey Island and its gravel channels offer calm and crucial spawning and rearing habitat for the river’s fish and aquatic species. […] The Pelólxw Tribe […is also] actively working to restore the resilience of aquatic habitat within this stretch of the Lower Fraser. NCC is exploring opportunities to collaborate with the Pelólxw Tribe in support of their vision for stewardship of the area, which prioritizes both ecological and cultural values.”

7. Prime editing efficiently corrects cystic fibrosis mutation in human lung cells

“[R]esearchers have developed a gene-editing approach that efficiently corrects the most common mutation that causes cystic fibrosis, found in 85 percent of patients. With further development, it could pave the way for treatments that are administered only once and have fewer side effects. The new method precisely and durably corrects the mutation in human lung cells, restoring cell function to levels similar to that of Trikafta [the standard treatment since 2019].”

8. Montana’s High Court Considers a Constitutional Right to a Stable Climate

“At issue was the appeal of a decision last year, when a Montana judge blocked a state law that prohibited agencies from considering climate impacts when deciding whether to approve fossil fuel projects such as new power plants, pipelines or mining. The ruling, by District Judge Kathy Seeley, was prompted by a lawsuit filed by 16 youths who argued that the law violated Montana’s constitutional right to a “clean and healthful environment.” It was the first ruling in the United States to effectively establish constitutional rights to a stable climate[….]”

9. The US is about to get its first solar-covered canal

“The first canal-based solar project in the U.S. is nearing completion on tribal lands south of Phoenix, Arizona. […] The long, narrow solar array design would snake along the line of the canal and tap into the local electrical distribution grid every 1,000 feet, or every one megawatt. […] “Canal solar allows for greater power production per land size, cleaner water, less power transmission losses, and significant reduction in evaporation[….]” Covering the entire 8,000 miles of canals and waterways managed by the Bureau of Reclamation with solar panels could generate over 25 gigawatts of renewable energy and reduce water evaporation by tens of billions of gallons[….]”

10. Camera traps offer glimpse of first beaver born in Northumberland for 400 years

“"It’s such a relief that they have bred successfully and to see a new fluffy kit swimming with the family[….]” In just one year [since releasing the beavers], there has been a noticeable increase in resident trout, says the National Trust, along with more regular visits from kingfishers and grey herons. There are more insects at the site, too, thanks to the organic matter that builds up behind the dams, which in turn provides food for Daubenton’s bats. […] Beavers also play an important role in creating habitats that are more resilient to the effects of climate change[….]”

July 1-7 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[karioke13]

Such an iconic comic book! This was actually one of the first comics that I have read. I always sob my eyes out when reading it

The Mighty Thor #705

[answrs]

PLEASE send in actual feedback to staff!

once again begging people to realize staff don't give one single iota of a shit about you reblogging a complaint post then immediately installing an add-on and "going back to normal" like nothing happened, you need to ACTUALLY SUBMIT A FEEDBACK TICKET (or more than one) for them to even lodge that anyone cares about them fucking over basic accessibility by removing icons or screwing artists out of credit on their own posts!

no one looks at the @'s for official accounts. they get pinged like five million times a day stop @ing staff and expecting it to do anything and actually go submit a ticket because otherwise they can just go "well no one complained that we removed avatars from posts so we're keeping it uwu go screw yourself"

it literally takes like twenty seconds. click feedback in the dropdown and either write your own couple lines or just copy paste the message I've written below idfc. ANYTHING is better than doing the equivalent of literally nothing!

the removal of icons from posts makes it impossible to tell who friends or mutuals are to those with reading disabilities, and it's aggressively anti-accessible. please revert this change! the text blends together instead of feeling like separate posts and is extremely distressing because it feels like you've been forcibly booted from the friendship and community that tumblr has fostered for over a decade. not only is this change inaccessible for many disabled persons, it is actively ANTI-accessible and is both extremely alarming and distressing to see even *get* to this stage of testing!

PLEASE. PLEASE SUBMIT FEEDBACK AND DON'T LET THEM SKATE BY BECAUSE "NO ONE CARES" ABOUT THIS

[onlycarlson]

like if you save

[hurtspideyparker]

Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

[emotionoitme]

under the moon

carmy berzatto x reader

final part of about a girl

masterlist

warnings: drinking & drug use (marijuana), carmy being mean, clubbing, jealousy, so much dirty talk, bdsm dom/sub undertones, oral sex (f receiving), spanking, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, choking, lots of cursing as usual

wc: 9.2k

a/n: i am so excited for you all to read this. & sorry for the slight delay, it took me a bit longer than expected to finish! thank you so so much for your continued support on this series! i genuinely never thought people would like it so much🥺 enjoy!

foster the people - under the moon

she had begrudgingly awoken the following morning, head feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton, eyes swollen and sore. the bright morning light streams through her open blinds, soaking the room in warm sun. she groans, throwing the duvet over her completely, praying her bed would open up into a sinkhole and swallow her completely. she snakes her arm out, reaching around the nightstand for her phone, pulling it back in. she had overslept about an hour, meaning she would have to heavily compromise on her morning routine and practically sprint to work if she wanted to make it on time. she considered it shortly, but ultimately pulled up her contacts app on her phone, opting to call in sick. she scrolls, the first option being carmy. she wanted so badly to hear his voice, yet her stomach drops at the thought of him, so she quickly scrolls past the contact to find sydney’s number instead. the girl hesitates for a moment, before dialing, a point of deliberation deep within her. she wanted to be as far as away from the man as she could possibly be, the thought of his mere face bringing her a feeling of anguish. on the other hand, she wanted to bear witness to his demeanor— reassure herself that he’s as affected as she is over last night’s encounter. 

he’s probably fine, she thinks to herself, lips twisted into a frown, he’s the one who didn’t want to keep it going. she tries to push the thought away, a hot pang of regret seeping through her body. she burrows deeper into the safety of her bed, tapping the icon next to syd’s contact, bringing the phone to her ear. the line rings, once, twice, three times, then a click. 

“hello?” she hears at the other end. 

“hey, syd,” she greets, groggily, “um, i'm sorry to do this to you guys, but i can’t come in today,” she explains, clarifying, “im sick, my stomach really hurts.” it was a white lie, told out of self preservation, knowing if she saw carmy’s face she surely would feel sick. she hears sydney take a breath. 

“uhh, yeah, that’s fine. we should be fine,” she assures, continuing to ask, “are you still gonna come out with us tomorrow night?” syd pushes a piece of silverware neatly into place, finishing the last table as she watches her business partner come out from the kitchen, walking towards her. 

“tomorrow night?” the girl questions, flipping her duvet off her head for oxygen. 

sydney chides her name, “tomorrow night, tina’s birthday? drinks, dancing, i’ve been telling you about it since last thursday?” glancing at her coworker, curious about who she’s talking to. sydney mouths the girl’s name to him, carmen then gesturing to ask for the phone. 

“yes, syd, thank you! i will be there. i’m sorry i’ve been so scattered this week,” she replies, sitting up out of bed. 

“you’re fine, we can unwind tomorrow,” sydney replies, mouthing “okay, okay,” to the persistently gesturing man, “here, let me put you on with carmy,” she replies, going to hand the phone to the man. 

“no!” the other line interrupts, more frantic than she meant to sound, met with silence. “i mean,” she tries to backtrack, “i don’t want him to worry about me. don’t put me on,” the girl stumbles out. 

“welll, he’s saying that he wants to talk to you… so, i don’t really have much of a choice, okay, bye!” the chipper girl quickly tells her. 

fuck, she mentally exclaims, i should’ve just gone in if i was gonna have to talk to him anyways. 

she hears her name through the line, tone questioning, as carmy takes the phone from syd. 

“hi,” she responds to his beckon, quietly. 

“you’re calling in?” he asks, holding a finger up to syd, walking towards the back office for some privacy. she tightly closes her eyes, finding her words. 

“i, uh, don’t feel good,” she responds, tone shakier than she had anticipated. the line goes silent for a minute, the girl mindlessly fiddling with a loose thread on her comforter. 

“are you avoiding me?” comes his question, catching her slightly off guard. 

“no, carmy” she quickly defends, “i don’t feel well.”

“what’s wrong?” he asks, taking a seat in his office chair. 

“my, um,” she hesitates, “my stomach hurts.” 

he’s not sure he believes her, leaning back in the chair and running a hand over his face.

“okay,” he concedes, letting out a sigh, “just, uh, take it easy today then.” he hears her hum in agreement, pausing before continuing. 

“are you going to that club tomorrow?” carmy asks her, “for tina’s birthday?” 

she dangles her legs over the edge of the bed, mindlessly kicking back and forth. 

“are you?” she asks, eager to skip out on anything besides shutting herself safely inside and maybe putting her fingers to good use to prove carmen nonessential, the memories of his touch flooding her mind incessantly. 

“i think i have to,” he responds, “i already told syd i would,” his eyes glancing back towards the open office door. she softly smiles, knowing she was in the same boat. 

“okay,” standing and walking to her closet, looking for a  club-suitable dress, “i’ll go too, then,” a small smirk in her tone. he can’t fight the smile that breaks his face, eyebrows raising slightly. 

“carmy, my phone?” he hears from the hallway, a reminder of his surroundings, his time talking with the girl running short. 

“yeah!” he yells back to the hallway, “hey, uh, feel better today, okay? i’ll see you tomorrow night,” carmy tells the girl, watching sydney walk into the office. 

“thanks, carm. bye,” she responds, the call ending shortly thereafter. she had felt slightly guilty abandoning her shift, all for the purpose of not having to be tortured with his presence, a reminder of what had transpired the previous night. their casual encounters had quickly morphed into something else within her brain, feeling a deep sense of affection towards the man, chastising herself because she had worried about this and continued anyways. 

she makes her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water over her face, the morning chill seeping through her bones. would it be so wrong for them to keep seeing each other? they were consenting adults—albeit boss and employee— both previously oblivious to the profound magnetism of their natural connection. she wanted to pursue things with him further, increasingly affected by his caring words and gestures, no longer being able to deny the twinge in her chest she gets when picturing his face. 

but she knew he didn’t want the same. 

why would he? she thought, it isn’t what he signed up for. he seemed focused on his work, like he would have limited time for a relationship.

she opted to get a few chores done around the house, taking advantage of the day off, sticking on the thought of him, though, finding herself looking through her closet for a dress with him in mind. 

—

the space is hot, crowded, alive with movement. tickets pour from the printer one by one. 

“it goes to four cousin, for the third time,” carmy scolds, “stop fucking with the tickets already,” hands busied with removing a large pot from the burner. 

“hold on, i’m fixing them,” richie argues back, clutching a mess of paper. 

carmy paces to the walk in refrigerator, grabbing a large container and making his way through the sea of bustling employees, checking on stations. he was running on fumes, only getting a solid three hours of sleep the previous night, plagued by a swarming head and uneasy stomach.

it’s best this way, he tells himself over again, easiest, hoping that if he repeats it enough times it will start to feel true. 

“alright send these out to six, please,” he hears from the front of the kitchen, glancing over at the expo, seeing the recently plated entrees. 

“fuck, richie, four!” carmen snaps, his hand flying out. 

“jesus, alright, four!” richie yells, widening his eyes, shaking his head, continuing. “calm down, carm, she’ll be back thursday,” a snicker on his face 

carmen freezes in his spot, skin beginning to burn. his eyes dart to richie, jaw twitching. 

“shut the fuck up,” he bites, venom in his tone, trying to push himself further into his work to outlet the growing frustration. he hears the other man chuckle knowingly, glancing at carmen. 

“okay, sore spot!” richie pokes, organizing the last few tickets, smile on his face. the chef doesn’t reply, beginning to quickly chop vegetables, unsure of what would slip off his tongue if he opened his mouth. 

it was unclear to him why he was unable to regulate himself when it came to someone even mentioning her, figuring it was temporary, and would slowly dissipate once they had some distance from each other. carmy deeply exhales, glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until he would be able to see her again. 

—

it was incredible how fast days would slip by when she didn’t have to go to the restaurant, taking care of domestic matters and recharging from the strenuous week so far, not thinking of carmen.

she goes to sleep that night wearing his clothes, arms wrapped around herself as if the sensation could ever come close to his touch, waking the next morning to eagerly check a phone empty of notifications. on her second day off she works on assignments for her classes, calls an old friend and grabs herself lunch from a bagel shop nearby. upon returning home she grabs a pair of earbuds and spends a few hours outside in the sunlight, mending the cracks in her heart, falling asleep on her balcony sofa and letting the sun kiss her better. the light of the afternoon seeps into the evening, painting the city in a soft yellow blanket, the girl slowly blinking awake. she watches a few cars drive by, a warm breeze shifting the trees, slowly sitting up and stretching, checking the time on her phone. she has a few hours to get ready before meeting everyone for drinks, her body relaxing at the confirmation. her eyes glance down past the time, seeing two new messages on her screen. 

carmy: 416 s clark street

carmy: do you need a ride?

she unlocks her phone, staring at the gray bubbles for what seems like an eternity, fingers hovering over the keys. she begins to type a response, “no. gonna walk,” then quickly deletes it, knowing he would insist on driving her.  

why is he trying to be so nice still?

she feels a twinge of irritation, quickly shutting off the phone, opting to not reply to his message. he was a hard man to understand, his actions contradicting his words more often than not—declaring the two finished, then continuing to pursue contact, referring to them as a “no strings” relationship and then calling her baby and sweetheart. it was confusing more than anything, beginning to take an emotional toll on the young woman. she felt incredibly tense the past few days, mind prickling with anxieties and insecurities, desperate to feel some type of release. 

fuck him, she thinks, standing and opening her sliding glass door, going inside, i’m gonna forget about it tonight. she stalks to her closet, i’m gonna find a hot stranger and just dance, pulling out a short, skin tight club dress and holding it in front of herself, facing the mirror. she wanted him out of mind completely, settling with trying to replace his touch with someone else’s tonight no matter how much her heart objected. she puts music on, setting the dress on her bed and undresses, studying herself in the mirror for a moment before making her way to the bathroom and turning on the shower. she takes a long while to let the hot water to melt onto her skin, cherishing the white silence of the shower head. the young woman takes her time getting ready, piecing herself back together with an extensive routine. once she’s in a robe with her hair wrapped up she walks to the fridge, grabbing a seltzer with alcohol to ease the slight oncoming nerves. she meticulously does her makeup and styles her hair, shamefully wondering if carmy would like how she’s dressed up, checking her phone to see it’s time to head over. dropping her robe and zipping into the dress she had picked out for the night, the girl examines her reflection, admiring the work she had put in. she looked hot, turning to the side and checking out her profile, curves accentuated by the tight fabric. satisfied, she mists herself with perfume and grabs her heels and purse, walking to the door. she swings the heavy metal barrier open to reveal a tepid july night, air thick with moisture. she balances against the frame, slipping into her heels and sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, stepping into the dusk of the evening and letting the door lock behind her. she glances at her phone for walking directions, head slightly fuzzy from the seltzer she had drank on an empty stomach. her short walk to the club garners many gawking stares from passerby’s, surprisingly not making her feel as small as they usually seem to, the goal was to catch eyes tonight, right? 

she squints, identifying bright flickering lights in the distance, the border of the club’s sign. there were a few people dispersed outside, all either smoking or talking on the phone, or both. she brushes her hair back, walking towards the entrance when she hears her name called from behind her. 

“- yo!” turning to see marcus and angel leaning against the brick wall of the establishment. she smiles, turning and walking towards them, the distinct odor of marijuana arising from the cigarette marcus clutched in between his thumb and pointer. 

“hi,” she grins, tilling her head slightly. 

“hey,” the two respond, almost in synchronicity. marcus holds the rolled paper to her, “want some?” 

she smiles, plucking it from his fingertips and bringing it to her lips, deeply inhaling to soften the inevitable drop her stomach would endure at the sight of carmen. the ember burns quickly, and she’s surprised at the harshness. 

she hands it back with a slow exhale, thanking marcus. 

“nervous?” angel chimes in, trying to hide a smile. the girl pauses for a moment, is it so obvious? 

“i haven’t been to a club in a while,” she responds, crossing her arms. it was partially true, but she knew the real reason for the relentless fluttering in her chest. 

the man stubs the filter onto a nearby trash can, dusting his hands off on his pants. “you guys ready to go in?”

the other man affirms, pushing himself off the wall and turning to walk to the front. the girl stays behind, hesitating. 

“you two go ahead. i’m gonna air out,” she responds, leaning back, basking in the slight breeze. the men both crack a smile before walking together to the entrance, leaving the girl in her solitude. she closes her eyes for a moment, deeply inhaling the night air, listening to the reverberation of bass through the walls of the club. she feels a cloud of haze overwhelm her, the mixture of substances seeping through her in a warm glow. she hears footsteps approach. 

“hey.”

her eyes snap open, breath escaping her at the sight of carmy. he looked polished, buttoned up into a dress shirt, hair fluffy and face cleanly shaved. she nearly salivated at his presentation, the buzz she felt complicating her decision to ignore him. 

“hi,” she shortly responds, lip slightly pouted, watching as his eyes examine her, floating down her form. he snaps his eyes away, clearing his throat. 

“you, uh, get my text?” 

she nods, looking up to him, meeting his eyes with unwavering contact. he walks closer to the girl, slightly shaking his head and furrowing his brow in confusion, an unspoken gesture to elaborate. 

she looks away, arms wrapping around herself. 

“i didn’t need a ride,” she answers, “i walked.” 

carmen’s jaw visibly tightens, feeling a twinge of irritation. 

“yeah. uh, i asked because i didn’t want you walking here alone,” he explains in a slightly frustrated tone. 

“yeah, well i made it,” she retorts, aggravation bubbling beneath the surface, “so you don’t need to worry about it.” 

she didn’t know why he was getting under her skin so easily tonight, her throat suddenly feeling hot and tight, raking her eyes over the top of his chest exposed by an open button.

“well i do,” the man argues, “i don’t want you walking by yourself. anywhere,” he solidifies in a stern tone. the girl lets out a scoff. 

“you’re acting like you’re my boyfriend,” she spits, fed up with the sense of entitlement he felt over her. 

“i’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend,” he quickly asserts, tone ringing out much harsher than he intended. 

she knows this to be a fact, but still can’t help the drop she feels in her chest when he says it aloud like that. she opens her mouth to say something, then quickly closes it, biting her lip, eyes darting to the ground. he instantly regrets saying it, brushing his fingers through his hair, grabbing it, studying the girl’s dejection with a pit in his stomach. 

“whatever, carmen,” she dismisses, shoving past him. her lungs felt tight, eyes burned, mentally cursing herself, rushing to the club entrance to distance herself from the man. she shoves the door open, immediately being engulfed by sound and swarming bodies. she blinks back a few tears, deeply inhaling and exhaling, zoning into the environment. spotting the group of her coworkers at a corner table, she shufflles through the crowd to approach them. syd immediately spots the girl, calling out to her and waving. she plasters on a smile as the rest turn to watch her, all unanimously greeting the new arrival. she makes her way over to tina, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek, wishing her happy birthday. she squeezes into her seat in between sydney and richie, turning to the tall man to ask, “so where’s my drink?”

richie lets out a boisterous laugh, throwing an arm around the girl.

“i don’t think you’re gonna have much of a problem getting drinks tonight, sweetheart,” he teases, as carmy approaches the table, receiving welcomes and pulling out a chair to sit. she flickers her eyes over to carmen to find he’s staring at her, quickly tearing them back away and leaning over to syd. 

“come get a drink with me. i really need it,” she pleads, placing her hand on sydney’s forearm. the other girl agrees, the two sliding out from under the table and making their way to the bar, arms linked. 

—

why did i say that? 

he watches her rush to the front entrance, his body frozen, processing the conversation. 

why did i say that?

he begins to go after her, reaching his arm out before she swiftly maneuvers the door open, slipping inside. 

why the fuck did i say that?

it wasn’t completely untrue— he wasn’t her boyfriend— something he had failed to make entirely made clear before that point. he wasn’t oblivious to the way they had grown closer, either, the thought of her nestled deeply within a sweet spot in his heart. yet he had done nothing to prevent it from happening, and once thinking of it, he finds he’s only ever done the opposite, his behavior towards the girl falling far closer to a boyfriend than a hookup. he begins following in her footsteps, opening the club door and immediately becoming overwhelmed with the number of people crowding the floor. carmy cranes his neck, watching her figure weave through the crowd and towards a corner table. he pushes through the wall of people, seeing her take her seat, approaching the table to receive greetings from his coworkers. his eyes are trained on her, wrapped into richie’s arm, smiling until she locks eyes with him. then it drops, slightly. it makes him feel sick. he turns to fak at his right and engages in conversation as he watches her rise from the table alongside sydney. she looks like a model of some type, he thinks, with dark makeup defining her striking eyes and hair tousled over her shoulder, tight black dress riding up over the skin of her thighs. he trails down her face to her neck. when she moves her hair behind her ear he can see a small purple mark left from his teeth, eyes fully fixated on the spot. the bass of the music thumps, reverberating through the club, floorboards shaking. he tries to keep up in the table’s conversation whilst simultaneously keeping a close eye on the girl, shifting to see her order at the bar through the moving bodies. she throws a shot back, grimacing at the taste, laughing while saying something to syd (he was never very good at reading lips) and raising her hand to flag the bartender once more. the table bursts into laughter, carmen’s eyes drawing back to his coworkers, watching as tina shoves richie’s hand with a smile on her face, rolling her eyes. he feels an inclination to step outside for a smoke, head buzzing with stimulation from the lively environment, wondering how long he should stay before it would be acceptable to leave. 

“oh my gosh, thank you baby,” he hears tina say, glancing over to see the girl having returned from the bar, placing a fruity drink in front of the woman. 

she smiles, returning to her seat as the current song ends, fading into the next. sydney and the girl gasp in tandem at the distinctive opening, locking eyes with each other and grinning. 

“we’re gonna go dance!” the girl excitedly calls, taking syd by the hand and navigating towards the dance floor, crowded with moving bodies. it’s hot, but fluid, the two girls beginning to move together, grinning. carmen watches her, eyes cutting through the crowd. she moves her hips, bringing her hands up her body, flashing lights illuminating her in colors. the sight was hypnotic almost, eyes trained on her, tense in his seat. she throws her hair back, circling her body, closing her eyes. 

richie leans over to him, “you, uh, sure she did just bartending over at ricky’s?” elbowing him slightly. 

carmen doesn’t respond, eyes fixated on her gyrating movements, jaw tensing, painfully aware of all the eyes she’s gathered around the club. she continues dancing after the first two songs, even when sydney makes her way back to the table in need of rest. carmy tried to not make it so obvious he was watching the girl, grateful some of his other coworkers had joined the crowd on the dancefloor, completely entranced by her movement. he tears his gaze away, standing up find the bar, eager to ease the incredible tension he felt pent up within him. she seemed to be having fun dancing, and in a way it felt refreshing to watch the girl so loose and carefree. carmy couldn’t help the sense of possessiveness he felt, though, watching her move like that, seeing the way other men looked at her, like meat. it made him sick. 

he orders a beer once the bartender makes their way over, song fading into the next. he turns to lean against the counter, eyes searching for her as he brings the bottle to his lips with a long swig. he feels a pang in his chest, as he finds her, hand on another man’s arm, leaning to whisper something in his ear. he closely watches as the man smiles, nods, placing his hands on her hips and getting closer to her. carmen’s skin immediately becomes hot, teeth clenching, taking a deep breath through his nose to try and calm himself. 

what the fuck is she doing? 

his eyebrows furrow, watching as she dances, bringing her arms up, turning, moving against the stranger. he feels physically sick, stomach churning at the way this man was touching her navel, hips, pressing himself to the back of her. carmy tightly grips the bottle, unable to rip his eyes away, the girl glistening in the light. she throws her head back against the man’s shoulder, hair draping over him, grinding to the music. her eyes find carmen’s quickly, intentionally locking gazes as she brings the strangers hands higher, up her waist, ribs, her mouth falling opening. carmen stands, knocking the barstool off balance with the force of his movement, shoving through the crowd, disregarding the dirty looks, quickly making his way to the dance floor. he grabs the girl’s wrist, pulling her from the stranger’s grasp, tightly gripping her as he walks towards the back door, dragging her behind him, feeling the struggle of her arm as she tries to pull away. he turns, putting a hand on her lower back, ushering her through the club, shoving the heavy metal door open and bringing her outside, finally letting go when the two are far from the door. he brings a hand to his hair, grabbing, turning to face the girl. 

“what the fuck, carmen?” she yells, ripping her hand away from him, “what’s your issue?” her words slightly under-enunciated. 

he bites down on his lip, meeting her eyes, hand coming to his hip. he hardly had an explanation for the girl, driven by a redhot primal jealousy, blood boiling at the sight of someone else’s hands on her, grabbing, feeling her like that. 

“what’s my issue?” he scoffs, “why the fuck were you dancing like that?” his face reddening, pulse quickening. she lets out a laugh, leaning back against the wall, gazing up at him. 

“why?” she asks, “are you jealous?” 

he shakes his head, unconsciously stepping closer to her.

“i’m not jealous,” he argues, jaw set firmly, eyes casting down onto her. 

“yeah?” she leans forward, further closing the distance between them. he nods, fixated on the droop of her eyes, the part of her lips, the way she looked up at him through her dark lashes. 

“so what if i fuck him?” she asks softly, a smirk playing on her lips, “will you be jealous then?” 

he lets out a breath, fire growing at her words.

he shakes his head, “you’re not gonna fuck him,” asserting with confidence. she tilts her head, alcohol emboldening her. 

“how do you know?” she challenges, well aware of how affected she was by his tone, his demeanor, the look in his eyes. carmy gets closer to her face. 

“because he’s not gonna fuck you like i do,” his voice deep, low, eyes boring into hers with an intensity that lights her core ablaze. the girl finds her breath hitches, mouth going dry, gaze flickering to his lips. he rests his hand on the brick behind her, leaning closer, “hear all those pretty sounds you make.” 

she shuts her eyes tightly, trying to shake her senses of the overwhelming lust she felt. she was supposed to stay angry at him, he was being an asshole. maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs, or the way he towered over her, but she felt no anger, only replaced by want, a slick ache growing at the way he seems to claim her for himself. she takes a deep breath, body feeling as if it were buzzing, head cloudy. 

“you are so fucking confusing,” she whispers, bringing her forehead to lightly touch his. he rests his hand on her lower back, relishing in the warmth of the contact, breathing in her scent. she was completely right about him, he thinks, never saying what he really means to her. if he could have what he really wanted, she would be his, only his. a girlfriend. 

“yeah,” he takes a shaky breath, “yeah. i know,” reply coming, hesitantly. “i’m sorry, -” he breathes out, her name sounding sweet on his tongue. she blinks away the tears that want to form, grabbing the fabric of his shirt, a small tremble of the lip. she opens her mouth to say something, eyes tearfully meeting his. 

the metal door creeks open, momentarily releasing the booming music out into the alleyway, breaking the trance as a few smokers congregate by the back. the girl changes her mind, mouth shutting. she releases his shirt, pulling away, stepping around the man and smoothing her appearance, pads of her fingers coming to dry a few escaped tears. he watches her try and compose herself, shivering in her small dress. his heart clenches, feeling the overwhelming need to take care of her— wrap his arm around her, lead her back to his home, dress her in more of his clothes and watch her fall asleep. he shrugs off his light jacket, walking over to her and draping it over her shoulders without saying anything. she glances up at the man, engulfed by his warmth and the smell of him, ache in her chest. 

“i’m gonna go home,” she whispers, swaying slightly. 

“let me walk you,” he offers, hand coming to her upper back. she quickly shakes her head, taking a step away from him. 

he sighs at her stubbornness, says her name. 

“you’re drunk,” he observes, “let me make sure you get there okay.” 

she hiccups, crossing her arms. 

“ ‘m not drunk,” she slurs unconvincingly. he nods, letting out a breath, hand coming to rub his face. 

“okay,” he concedes, “then, just… go back in with me for a sec. say bye to everyone.” 

she meets his eyes, consideration running over her features, then nodding slowly. he puts his hand on the small of her back, steadying her as they walk back towards the large metal door. there’s a noticeable change in temperature difference as the two enter the club again, weaving through a sea of moving bodies, carmy holding tightly onto her, ushering her forward towards the corner table. he doesn’t miss the glances from his workers at the sight of the girl wearing his jacket, a few smiles cracked, looks exchanged. he ignores it, picks his beer back up as the girl excuses herself from the event, claiming to not feel good and chalking it up to drinking too much when she usually doesn’t partake. richie, surprisingly, says nothing, eyes trained on carmen, smirk plastered over his face. 

“i’m gonna head out too,” carmy announces, “take her home.” 

richie begins loudly laughing, clapping his hands together. 

“jesus christ, i am right about everything!” he shouts, slamming his glass down onto the table. carmen’s skin begins to prickle with embarrassment. 

“hey richie,” he chimes, “shut the fuck up.” he felt unbearably tense tonight between the day’s grueling shift, the girl dancing on another man, the newfound teasing, as if he were about to implode. he was in desperate need of some sort of release. carmy watches her, tightly clad fabric stretching over her ass as she leans down to give tina a hug. he felt guilty, almost, the way he had been shamelessly gawking at her throughout the night, the act doing nothing but intensify the burning he felt bottled up within him. 

“i’m sorry i’m leaving so early, t,” he hears from her mouth, “i don’t feel very well.” 

the older woman brushes the apology away, placing a kiss on the girl’s cheek. 

“feel better, baby,” she coos, looking to carmen, “jeff, you make sure she gets into bed okay,” the command motherly in tone. he nods, coming to give tina a side hug, “ ‘night, t. happy birthday.”

—

the sidewalk pavement was in dire need of repair, cracks and bumps literally the surface, worsening the walk for people who weren’t drunk. she stumbles over a divot, instinctively grabbing onto carmy’s arm for balance, heels catching on every small crevice. she lets out a cry of frustration, stopping in her tracks. 

“this is impossible,” she exclaims, reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel, “why don’t they fix this stupid street?” 

he can’t help the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards. she was cute, even in her frustration. he crouched, slightly, leaning over, arms out. 

“c’mere,” he tells her, “jump up.” 

she falters, trying to retain independence in her drunken stubbornness, but ultimately accepts, the other option being continually tripping over herself for another mile. she puts her hands up on his shoulders, using him as leverage to boost herself up, his arms coming to wrap around the backs of her thighs. he hears her squeal, slightly, feeling as she pulls the short dress down to cover the curve of her ass. the man grits his teeth, shaking the mental image of it as he tightly grips the supple skin of her upper thighs. she’s easy to carry, surprisingly so, as he continues walking in the direction of her apartment building. a silence settles between the two of them, breaths falling in line with the gentle rhythm of his steps. she wraps her arms around him further, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, exhale tickling his neck. he clears his throat, glancing back at the girl, seeing her closed eyes. 

“i, uh,” he hesitates, gathering his thoughts, “i fuckin’ hated seeing that guy touch you,” the confession slipping off of his tongue. he feels her smile slightly against his neck. 

“i knew you would,” her reply comes softly. he lets out a small scoff, humored by what she admits. 

“you’re a brat,” he asserts lowly, pressing his fingers into her skin. she splays her arms out, pushing her chest against his back, hand coming to rest on his bare collarbones. 

“you were being a dick,” her words ringing truthfully, resounding throughout the man, feeling a pang of guilt. 

“yeah. i know,” he agrees, eyes fixed forward, “i’m sorry.” carmen lets a cloud of silence engulf the two before vocalizing again. 

“you know, i… really do wanna be with you,” he admits gently, soul bared. she pauses, soaking in his words, feeling almost as if a puzzle piece had been pushed into place. 

“why not?” her question comes soft, sweet. he lets out a deep breath. 

“you know why,” he quietly replies, the street lamps casting their two shadows as one. she does know why, aware of the sly glances the two received, apparent judgment surrounding a relationship with the power imbalance of theirs. 

“well, i quit then,” she pouts, lips brushing against his skin, erupting him in goosebumps. he shakes his head. 

“you can’t,” comes his rejection, “we need you,” expressing the fact with utmost sincerity. she hugs her arms around him tighter, smelling his cologne, his soap, a faint trace of cigarette smoke. 

“i don’t care,” she protests in all of her stubborn glory, “i wanna be yours, carm.” 

he feels himself surrender at her words, pulling her even closer. 

“you’re mine,” he assures her, glancing back to meet her eyes, nodding, feeling warmth as if a bright light glowed from his chest. they can figure out the details later— he genuinely didn’t want her to quit, trying to remind himself it was the only way their relationship would be ethical. the man slows in pace as they approach the front of her building, letting the girl hop down, holding his hand out to steady her once her feet make contact with the ground. she gives a small smile, intertwining her arm with his, hand coming to rest on the mass of muscle as the two make their way to her building. she clutches onto him in her inebriated state as they scale the tall stairs leading up to her door. she fumbles with her keys, eventually unlocking the deadbolt and pushing the door open. she turns to face him, giving him sort of a puppy dog look, hoping he’ll want to follow her in. a smile breaks his face, studying her expression. 

“i, uh, gotta make sure you get in bed okay,” he reminds her, gesturing inside. she grins, taking his hand, pulling him inside and shutting the door. the space was illuminated with strung lights, warm in hue, mystifying the room. he takes a deep breath, wrapped in her intoxicating scent, eyes scanning the room. he primarily notices how pristine it is, cozy, fragments of her soul framed over the walls and resting on shelves. it felt like a home, more than his ever has. she sets her keys and purse on a side table, kicking off her heels and sighing in relief, trudging to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses of water. when she hands it to him he can’t help but stare, focusing on her face, the ache for her insurmountable to anything he’s ever wanted before. he sets the glass down, hand coming to her lower back, deeply looking into her, past her beauty and towards her essence. he watches as her eyes flicker down to his lips, quickly coming back to meet his gaze. he’s in awe of her, almost, bringing both hands to the small of her back, squeezing her slightly, pulling her to him with ease. she lets out a breath at the action, hand coming to his forearm, feeling the flex of his tendons. he wants her all to himself, he thinks, leaning in towards her, raising his hand to cup the side of her face. she leans into the touch, turning, pressing a kiss to the base of his thumb, bringing her other hand to rest on his, biting the skin. he grasps her face at this, shoving his thumb into her mouth. 

“suck,” he commands, voice low, watching in anticipation as she brings her lips around the digit, tongue circling eagerly, trying to take more of it into her mouth. he nearly falls apart at the sight, twitching, pulling her flush against him, dragging his thumb out of her mouth and over her bottom lip. he drops his hand to touch her neck, watching her lips, hearing his heart pound in his ears. she brings her grip to clutch onto his shirt, heavily breathing. he cherishes her expression, cheeks flushed and lips parted, glistening. carmen tightens his hand around her throat very slightly, leaning in to taste her, his lips gently pressing against hers, hearing her moan at the unexpected contact. she’s sweet, soft, eager, the slightest trace of alcohol on her lips. he hadn't realized how much he had been craving her taste until it graced his tongue, feeling almost as if a tension in him had alleviated. he wants more, tattooed fingers wrapping around her neck, pulling her into him, deepening the kiss. she melts into him, trying to keep up with the ferocity of his kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth. he groans, bringing his hand from her back to the curve of her ass, feeling, squeezing, pulling her in. he takes his hand off her throat, her leg slightly lifts, and he takes the opportunity to hoist it up over his hip, turning and pressing her into the counter, weight of his body against hers. it feels as if something had snapped within him, wanting to claim her all to himself, grabbing whatever he can of her, getting as close as possible, lips, tongues dancing in tandem. he presses a few slow kisses to her mouth, pulling away, forehead coming against hers, eyes shut. he listens to the sound of their breath, hand on her ass, fingers teasing the hem of her panties. she arches into his touch, body tingling, hot with desire. his hand comes up, then flies back down to smack her ass, the girl takes a sharp breath, firmly gripping it again after the impact. 

“fuck,” she breathes, a hot swell in her lower stomach. he creeps his hand up the skin of her thigh, slipping under her dress, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs. her face grows hot at the way he takes command, shoving at the fabric until it slides down her calves and hits the floor. she steps out of them, breath shaky, drenched in anticipation, insides of her thighs growing wet. carmy gives her a final kiss before dropping to his knees in front of her, placing a few gentle kisses around her skin. she instinctively clamps her thighs at the sensation, the man bringing his hand to shove her leg to the side, exposing her glistening heat. he lets out a soft moan at the sight, closer than he’s ever been to her core, leaning forward to softly kiss her clit. the girl lets out a cry of surprise, hand flying to his head, the simple act sending a shock throughout her body. he brings his thumb and pointer finger to part her both of her lips, taking her image in, salivating slightly in anticipation. he casts his eyes up towards her face, flushed, mouth open. he leans forward, licking a long stripe up her wetness to her clit, swirling his tongue around the bud, pulling away. she pants, fingers tangled in his hair, arching towards him, wordlessly asking for more. he groans at the taste of her, a rush to his head, his cock, immediately diving in for more, lapping at her as if she’s the finest thing he’s had in his mouth. her knees begin to go weak, trembling slightly, trying to hold onto him for support. 

“carmy,” she whimpers, “i can’t stand.” 

this breaks his focus, bringing his eyes up to her with a glint. 

“yeah?” he asks, “feel too good, baby?” a smirk growing on his face. she refuses to respond, tightly shutting her eyes and throwing her head back when he brings his thumb to slowly circle her clit, watching, gauging her reaction. he pulls his hand away, placing a small smack on the inside of her thigh, the girl gasping. 

“answer me” he growls, breath tickling her mound, leaning to press a few more kisses to her swollen heat. she lets out a whine, grabbing his hair. 

“it feels- fuck it feels so good carm,” she shakily admits, knees nearly buckling. satisfied with her answer he brings both hands to the base of her ass, lifting her with ease and setting her on the countertop. she hastily grabs his shirt and pulls him in, locking lips and tasting herself on his tongue, letting a sweet sound into his mouth. he breaks away, desperate to feel her wetness on his mouth again. he kisses the inside of her thigh, then leans in, flattening his tongue against her clit, gently lapping, a finger coming to tease her pooling entrance. she unintentionally bucks her hips at the sensation, prompting carmen to bring the length of his forearm to her inner thigh, shoving it open, holding her down. she brings her eyes to his tattooed arm splaying her open, heart pounding, trying to straighten herself, awaiting his touch. he continues his gentle licks, circling his finger around her wetness, then pushing the digit into her slowly, eyes darting up to watch her mouth fall open. he swirls his tongue around her engorged clit, then gently sucks, curling his finger deeply inside of her, beginning to establish a rhythmic motion. her pants turn to cries, pulling the man in by his curls. his hand grips the skin of her thigh, spreading her open, devouring her, pushing a second finger into her. her teeth clamp down onto her lip at the sensation, gripping around his digits, trying hard to keep her composure in front of the man. carmy, aware of this, increases the pace of his movement, pulling his mouth away from her, beginning to tease her clit with a feather-like touch of his tongue. her head falls back, smacking against the cabinet, a loud moan slipping through her lips. 

“please,” she pleads, not sure for what, arching into carmen’s motion, hands grabbing whatever she can of him, the knot inside her stomach growing impossibly tight. he wants to feel her cum— clench around his fingers, see how long he can keep fucking into her until it’s too much— but he refrains, pulling his fingers out, soaked with her juices, standing up. her head jerks up to meet his eyes, panting, flushed, frustrated. 

“whyy?” she whines, trying to pull the man back to her. he lets out a scoff, smirk creeping at the edges of his lips, hands on the tops her thighs, gripping. 

“you think i’m gonna let you cum?” he asks, voice low, coming close to her face, “after that shit you pulled in the club?” 

her lip pouts, face heating at his words, held down by his weight, trying to catch her breath. the girl opens her mouth to argue back, but decides against it, just wanting to feel him— leaning forward to kiss him softly, hungrily, hands coming to feel the muscles of his chest. he melts into the kiss, hands wrapping around her back. 

“you don’t care, huh?” carmy teases between kisses, “just want me to keep touchin’ you,” pressing himself between her thighs, deepening their contact. she nods into the kiss, greedily reaching her hands down to pull his shirt up. he pulls away from her, taking it off completely, groaning as the girl runs her hands up his bare abdomen, then gently rakes her nails down, admiring the way his muscles flex under her touch. he grows a bit impatient, decides to pick her up, her legs coming to wrap around his back, carrying her to the bedroom. she grins at the way he holds her, hands gripping both of her ass cheeks, leaning down to kiss his neck in the short walk. when he drops her onto the plush duvet of her bed he leans over her, fingers grasping the side zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down to reveal the skin of her ribcage, waist, stopping right above her hip. they lock eyes and he searches her face for any signs of hesitation, finding only blown pupils and flushed cheeks. he grabs the hem of the dress, slowly pulling it down her body to expose her breasts, waist, stomach, pelvis, letting the fabric fall over her ankles to the floor. his eyes drink her in, sparks firing in his brain, bringing his hands to grasp her waist, thumbs resting over her stomach. carmy leans in, deeply kissing her, savoring her warmth, then rises, unbuckling his belt. she props herself up onto her elbows, watching the man slowly unbutton his pants, pull the zipper down. she lets out a heavy breath at the sight of the large bulge behind his briefs, straining against the cotton, curved upwards to the right. she sits up, inching towards the edge of the bed, seated in front of the man, gazing up at him in adoration. 

“can i take these off?” she asks softly, fingers coming to hook into his briefs, pulling them slightly to reveal the deep v-line in his hips, light brown hair leading down to his covered pubic bone. her mouth was almost watering, looking up at him in anticipation. he grins at her eagerness, raising his eyebrows slightly, nodding his head, giving her permission to slip the waistband down over his hips, cock slapping against his stomach when she does so. she immediately grabs the length of his dick, heavy in her hand, giving it a few slow strokes, watching as he closes his eyes, breathing out heavily. her head feels fuzzy, wanting nothing more than for him to shove her back onto the bed and fill her completely, continuing to marvel at his thickness. he brings his hand to stroke the side of her face, fingers coming over her ear and threading through her hair, watching intently as she slowly jerks him off. she clenches her thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the growing ache, running out of patience. 

“carm,” she whines, gripping his cock, gazing up at him, handsome face framed by a few messy curls, “i want it already.” 

he lets a small smirk grace his face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. 

“yeah?” he asks, watching the girl quickly nod, bringing his face closer to his, lowering his voice, “you know i’m gonna fuckin’ wreck you tonight, right?” 

she heats at his words, eyes widening, an expectant shiver making it’s way through her body and settling throughout her core. he doesn’t let her respond, grabbing her thighs and pulling her, back coming to the mattress, pelvis flush with his. he bends her legs into her chest, leaning over her, the tip of his cock briefly gracing her wetness before he brings his hand down to grip himself, running the tip through her slick folds, sliding up to nudge her clit. she tightly shuts her eyes, lets out a quiet moan at the sensation— almost enough to satisfy, but not quite. he continues thrusting through her folds, listening to the wet sounds, coating himself in her juices. she tries to resist the urge but she can’t, reaching down, grabbing his cock and sticking it inside of her, legs coming to wrap around his back to pull him in. 

“fuckk,” he exclaims loudly, not expecting her desperation, suddenly engulfed in her warmth. he groans, trying to compose himself, bringing his hand to her throat, leaning in, pushing his hips forward to the hilt. she whimpers, cherishing the slight burn of fullness as he tightens his grip around her throat. 

“this what you wanted?” he asks, voice gruff, fully draped over her, nuzzling a kiss under her ear. the way he speaks to her ignites a flame, emboldening her slightly. her eyes gleam. 

“no,” she breathes, “i want you to fuckin’ move,” words laced with a tone. he lets out a short laugh, straightening, grabbing both her calves and propping them up over his shoulders, drawing out of her and then quickly snapping his hips forward. she gasps, hand flying up to her mouth. she feels the ridge of his head drag against her walls as he graciously begins to thrust into her, hands wrapped around her legs, eyes coming to watch her breasts bounce in time with his rhythm. her hand falls away from her mouth, a loud cry pouring from her lips. carmen revels in the sound as he continuously drives his hips forward, skin slapping against hers, gripping her left calf, turning to press a kiss into her ankle. his pace begins to satiate the relentless burn within her core, trying to take his length as deeply as possible.

“so good,” she whimpers, bringing her hands to her breasts, squeezing. carmy groans, slapping her outer thigh. 

“where’d that attitude go?” he asks, pelvis flush against her, pulling closer, “huh?” 

her brows furrow, opening her mouth to argue but falling short, a breathy moan replacing her words at the sensation of him deeply fucking into her. her body feels incredibly hot, nipples perked beneath her fingers, feeling herself approaching an edge. he grins, moving his hand to grip at her thigh, eyes scanning over the sight in front of him. 

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he tells her, hips stuttering, trying to push away his quickly approaching orgasm. he pulls out of her, the girl’s eyes shooting open to object. carmy takes hold of her forearms, pulling her to stand, grabbing her hips and turning her around, pushing her forward. her knee comes to the bed, balanced on her other leg as he wraps his arm around her waist, hand on her ribcage and inserts himself back into her tightness. 

“yes,” she cries, arching back against him and bringing her hand onto his arm, feeling the head of his cock thrust deeply upwards. the tingling in her core grows stronger; her head falls back onto his shoulder. carmen grunts, his free hand coming to find her clit, rubbing small, soft circles, feeling himself unravel at the intense pulse of her walls. he kisses her cheek, relentlessly pounding into her, the crescendo of her moans driving him higher and higher. his lips come right next to her ear, breath ragged. 

“you my girl?” he asks, another kiss on the side of her face, bringing his hand from her ribs to her breast, gently squeezing. 

she nods quickly, arm coming behind her to grab his hip, feeling him, tangible beneath her fingers. 

“all yours,” she pants, “i’m all yours, carm.” 

he groans at the sentiment, bottoming out inside of her, quickly circling her clit as her arousal grows slick on his fingers. she feels herself tumbling towards her edge, trying to physically hold onto him so as to not climax, fingers gripping into his skin. 

“i’m-,” a cry falls from her mouth. he pulls the two even closer, wetness pouring from her at the continual thrusts, feeling the cues of her body approaching climax.

“let it go, baby,” he coos, lips pressed against her ear. with his simple command she feels an intense heat envelop her body, orgasm crashing against her like a wave. she goes limp in his arms so he grabs her tighter, bending her over the bed. her thighs begin to shake as carmen relentlessly snaps his hips, watching her intently, feeling a white hot pleasure seep through him. he’s ferociously grabbing at her, pulling her in as he approaches his edge, stutter of his hips as he bottoms out and releases himself into her with a loud groan. she feels the pressure of his cum against her walls, intense heat diffusing as she rides out the shocks of her orgasm. he collapses over her, hand coming to the bed, trying not to put his full weight upon her. their labored breaths harmonize, hearts pounding. carmy runs a hand over her lower back, soothingly rubbing the limp girl. he pushes himself up, straining to grab a tissue off her nightstand to clean with, the act of pulling out of her releasing a constant pressure, the girl whimpering. he soaks up the mess of cum dripping down her legs, drinking in the sight, then rises to throw the tissues away. she’s able to muster the energy to push herself up and stumble behind him, walking into the bathroom to turn on the shower, steadying her shaky legs by holding onto the wall. she turns to see the man, naked in all his glory, approach her, placing his hands on her hips and leaning in to kiss her deeply. she seeps into his touch, hand coming to graze his lower stomach, exhaling slowly. he lets a peace wash over the two before speaking. 

“so, uh, i’ll take this as your two weeks notice, then?” he teases, hand falling to her low back. she tilts her head to the side. 

“what? you mean i don’t get a promotion after that?” she asks, smiling, trying to feign disappointment, “fuck.”

he grins, adoringly gazing down at the young woman, bathing in the light of her smile. 

he knew it was never supposed to go so far. it was never supposed to end up in this position, with her leaning in for another kiss, him greedily accepting. she was his completely now, the man making a vow to never let anything or anyone hurt her, cherishing the feeling of her warmth under his fingertips. 

it was never supposed to go so far, but it did. and he was so fucking glad it did. 

—

eeeek i hope you liked it!! i genuinely enjoyed writing this story so much. an epilogue to wrap up some loose ends is possible in the future- in the meantime i'll be posting some steamy carmy headcannons.

please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! thank you SO MUCH to everyone for the continued support on this series <3

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"I've got a Big Chief, Big Chief, Big Chief of the Nation

The wild, wild creation

He won't bow down

Down on the ground

Oh how I love to hear him call Indian Red"

Voices of a Nation – "Indian Red"

The Backstreet Bar used to be the spot Celeste's parents went to when they were young and lively in the nineties and before they started pumping out kids left and right. Near the French Market off Esplanade in the sixth ward, it became a shrine and the iconic hub for rhythm and blues.

All things Black and New Orleans culture-wise sprang from that bar in their neighborhood. When the owner Etienne King passed away, his widow Lesli King took over. The levees broke in 2005 and nearly washed away the people and history that gave the city its culture and flavor. But the people persevered until Lesli passed during Mardi Gras of 2010. Celeste remembered 2010 well because it was the first year she started sewing with her granddaddy Big Chief Harris Profitt of the Wild Treme Mardi Gras Indians.

Thirteen and full of spitfire energy and overzealous gumption, Celeste spent all year beading and sewing using her granddaddy's jeweler's loupe magnifier over her right eye. The intricate beadwork and patches she sewed and assembled to make her first Indian suit was a proud moment, not only for Celeste, but for that side of her family who ran up and down the streets hunting down other tribes to battle in verbal dexterity and showing off how pretty they looked in their Mardi Gras finery.

Her suit was a patchwork of dark purple, lavender, and white micro beads, feathers, and sequins. She showed the fuck out among her kin and her relatives started calling her by the nickname Duchess because she strutted so high and mighty in front of granddaddy's house while the neighbors waited for their Big Chief to come outside on a fine Mardi Gras morning to represent their downtown neighborhood in his fabulous three-dimensional African-inspired suit. No one in Treme ever called her grandfather by his first name. It was always "Big Chief", "Chief", or "Chief Profitt".

Proud to be a Wild Treme Indian, Celeste sewed a new suit every year as was custom. It was expensive, time-consuming, and a true labor of love. Her grandmother had worked as a seamstress for a dress shop and her grandfather was a welder like his father before him, and she absorbed those technical skills of sewing and shaping metal under their tutelage to transform Black Mardi Gras Indian regalia into wearable art. Sadly, she lost interest in making suits by the time she hit twenty-four and began designing the fancy second line parasols, fans, and baskets for several social aid and pleasure clubs instead. That extra source of income helped carry her for over four years. Sometimes on annual Super Sundays she'd re-purpose some old suits to play in with other Mardi Gras Indian tribes that came from all over the city to commune and show off in A.L. Davis Park. It made Big Chief happy to see her on those occasions, although he wanted his youngest grandchild to sew new suits again.

The test of a true Indian was to pour your passion and creativity into needle and thread to kill 'em dead with a new suit annually. Tribes frowned on recycling an old suit and considered it lazy work to don a suit people already witnessed you in. People came out looking for craftsmanship, originality, and style—lagniappe—a little something extra each year. She poured her creative flair into the overly decorated accessories for other people and made a nice coin doing it.

After Lesli died, Grand-mère, along with a cadre of old-timers, lamented that the history of their hood would crumble if the Backstreet Bar died. Grand-mère had been one of dozens of foster-children Lesli looked after over the years, giving some jobs working at the neighborhood bar. Eventually, Grand-mère and Big Chief took over the property instead of retiring when Celeste turned eighteen. It was the bar Celeste headed toward for Mardi Gras Indian practice with her family and tribe.

She didn't want to drive through downtown, but she became the designated driver for three of her besties. Lyfts and Ubers raised their prices during the holiday season and no one wanted to pay outlandish fees when they could look cute in her brand new muscle car. Cruising through the Garden District, she picked up two of her friends and headed down to the French Quarter. They didn't have to stop for food because Grand-mère provided free red beans and rice, fried chicken, and sometimes boiled crawfish and red rice at the bar. She hoped they had a nice spread tonight because her stomach growled and she needed heavy food to soak up the liquor she planned to consume.

Her ex boyfriend committed a flagrant foul that weekend by jumping the gun and telling everyone they had broken up before she was ready. She suspected he wanted to bring out his new woman openly so no one would beat his behind once she blabbed that he'd been running around on her. Truth be told, she was tired of his boring ass anyway, but the general principal of the matter was she wanted to be the first to bail and get her lick back during carnival. Now if she turnt up and shook ass extra hard, people would say she was overcompensating for getting dumped.

"Duchess, turn right…slow down…there's a spot about to open up."

"Where?" Celeste said to her friend Mercy, who sat shotgun.

Mercy pointed to the flashing hazard lights of a taxi. Celeste zipped into the tight spot and breathed a sigh of relief. There was nothing worse than searching for parking anywhere near the Quarter or within a one-mile radius in any direction during the carnival season. Mercy checked her smartphone.

"She's on her way out," Mercy said.

Celeste checked her face in the mirror. Although it was only a practice at the bar, she still wanted to look cute. Her giant Medusa locs were pulled back with a leather hair tie high on her head, and her eyeliner and ruby lip stick gave enough sexy unbothered vibes that made her feel confident. She had her girls, a stellar whip that she worked hard for, and time with her tribe to look forward to. Lately, it seemed like carnival festivities were the only way her family got together en mass. Carnival or funerals.

Their friend Joyce hustled out of a popular bakery in the Quarter carrying a box of the popular King Cake, a ring-shaped, hand-braided cinnamon infused dessert. The plastic covering on top showed off the tri-colored icing of gold, purple, and green.

"Hey, girl!" Celeste said as Joyce climbed in the back of the Charger. She gave air kisses to Nae Nae in the back.

"Whew! It's been crazy in there! Some people were mad they ran out of King Cakes that weren't pre-ordered. I am ready to cut up!" Joyce enthused.

Celeste checked her driver's side mirror and pulled out, heading around the narrow block. Clogged streets packed in the tourists, locals, and plenty of cops. She parked four blocks away from the Backstreet Bar and they all climbed out feeling giddy. Normally, Big Chief didn't allow outsiders or non-tribal members to attend Indian practice. But he made an exception that year to help her get over feelings about her ex. Freddie made being in Nawlins central intolerable. He knew everyone in her extended family because he was a police officer who had connections to a political family with high ambitions for him down the road. After their unceremonious break up, she moved into a cute little over-priced cottage far from him, and took an extra part-time job at a chicken processing plant with a goal of saving enough money to head out to California for an extended visit. Celeste had relatives in L.A. and could stay with them for a vacation. Getting away from the Big Easy would help build up a new positive lease on life. Or maybe she'd take a five-day cruise to Mexico. Anywhere was good, just as long as she could escape Freddie and go to a new world for a minute.

That man had wasted her time and love. She wanted to buy a large home and get married. Start a family. Months ago, she gave him an ultimatum that their relationship needed forward momentum and her finger needed a ring by New Year's Day. Cheating was his way of humbling her, and ironically, it brought her great relief. He made life feel stagnant and dull, proving unequivocally that he wasn't The One. She just didn't have the guts to leave first before having something lined up on the horizon.

A crowd of patrons gathered outside a corner in front of the Backstreet Bar, catching the pitiful breeze that attempted to blow through the escalating muggy heat while listening to the thumping music from inside. Celeste glanced at the exterior of the bar painted with colorful images of their tribe, Creole food, and two giant beer mugs clinking together. The name of the bar was graffiti painted above the front door that stood wide open. A "Closed Until 9 P.M." sign taped to the wall kept non-tribal members out for the time being, and a blank-faced bouncer, David, stood vigil on a metal stool.

"Hey David!" Celeste said.

"Duchess!"

David hopped off the stool and gave Celeste a big belly hug because his stomach lopped over his belt.

"I brought my friends to watch with Big Chief's permission. They won't be no trouble," she said.

David looked over the women, his beady eyes taking a liking to Joyce's plump frame.

"Alright now, go get y'all a plate before the good eatin' is all gone," David said to the group. His eyes stayed on Joyce the entire time.

Inside, the raucous shouts of men showered them with the energy of the packed bar and sucked them right into the fold. Family and tribal members were already cutting up, clapping and smacking tambourines in time to an internal beat that swelled throughout the room.

On a small stage across from the bar, a second line brass band made up of young men in their twenties carried the foundational rhythm the others followed. The musical frenzy, sweaty faces, and rocking bodies enveloped Celeste in the comforts of culture. Trumpets, a trombone, and a good faith tuba blasted the familiar jazzy sounds that New Orleans was famous for. Celeste rocked her shoulders, shuffled her feet with slick footwork, and sang the old-time Indian songs.

Joyce placed the King Cake on an open table near Grand-mère who stood regally watching the action. She hugged each one of them. Celeste eyed her father drumming on stage and glanced toward her mother, who mixed drinks at the bar.

It was good to be in the Treme.

She greeted familiar faces and asked "Who dat?" about folks she didn't recognize. Inundated with love and affection, Celeste settled in, bringing a playful zeal to her dancing. Her mother handed her a tambourine at the bar, and she hopped onto the dance floor behind her grandfather and tapped a churchy beat on her left palm. Onlookers who were guests ogled the rare treat of seeing a real deal Indian practice. Their tribe's Spy Boy, Darryl, waved a white handkerchief around, yelped in his warbled tone and pretended to see another tribe's approach. A play uncle named Man-Man started strutting as their Flag Boy and the boisterous sound of voices rose, singing louder than the percussive drum beats onstage. Celeste stayed close to her grandfather, listening for his calls to change the tempo at the drop of a dime.

The Big Chief's salt and a little less pepper hair sweated out into tight curls. His dark hickory brown face stayed bathed in a sheen of earned sweat. Eyes closed and listening for the spirit to arrive, Big Chief struck his tambourine once and hooted, his cries flying overhead and joined by a tribal call-and-response that bolstered his bringing down of the ancestors.

Celeste copied his tambourine strikes to aid in catching the spirit. In four days, the tribe would take to the streets, preening and daring another tribe to outshine them. Thankful for choosing to wear a white t-shirt tied at the waist and comfy jean shorts, Celeste danced, sang, shook her hips and felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders.

Three hours rocked by with chants, foot stomping, and plenty of drinking.

Twirling to her left to show off for her friends, she took some time to eat and gulp down a rum and coke standing in front of the stage. She caught the eye of a man lingering near her right side. Despite the many faces in the bar that blended into a chaotic blur during practice, the stranger's eyes latched onto hers and she couldn't shake them away. He was one of them pretty boys with captivating light eyes and possibly good hair that most people thought Creoles were supposed to have. Celeste's family was bone-Black Creole, the darker kind that still spoke southern, creolized French.

The man stood near some of her male cousins, and God forbid, a childhood friend named Travis X who was a five-percenter and a member of the Nation of Islam. It was impossible to miss Travis's short, high and tight fade and big shiny teeth. Still lurking in the shadows next to Travis, peeping at her moves, Mr. Light Eyes boldly stared right back at her like she was supposed to be sucked up on a plate of hot crawfish and dirty rice Grand-mère served.

Big Chief nudged Celeste to join in on the closing song. Lifting her contralto voice to support her energetic grandfather, she belted out the first opening cry of "Indian Red"

"Madi cu defio, en dans dey, end dans day…"

Their tribe repeated the words like a field holler with a tinge of the blues until everyone was on one accord. They belted out the song that represented the core of their tradition.

"We are the Indians, Indians, Indians of the nation

The wild, wild creation

We won't bow down

Down on the ground

Oh, how I love to hear them call Indian Red

I've got a Big Chief, Big Chief, Big Chief of the Nation

The wild, wild creation

He won't bow down

Down on the ground…"

Tears welled up in Celeste's eyes while singing with her grandfather. The power of the words enveloped her like a cozy patchwork quilt. Big Chief was getting to the age where he would have to pass the torch onto his oldest son. It was quite possibly his last time leading the tribe. His age was catching up to what his body couldn't carry as well anymore. The heavy tribal suits could weigh over eighty pounds or more. She wanted to dance in the streets with him one more time before a shift took place. She heard the trembling in his voice…they all did. Everyone in that packed bar knew they were witnessing the closure of an era under his leadership. Her uncle Alston would be a capable chief, but Big Chief Harris Proffit was the only chief she had known representing her people since she was a baby. He was eighty-two. Time to hand down the baton.

The last note hung in the air and Celeste broke away, grabbed her smokes from her purse, and headed outside to clear her head. Big Chief didn't need to witness her sadness. He wasn't dying, just nearing retirement. But it felt like a passing on anyway.

Back on the corner and away from David, who allowed regular patrons to come inside since practice was over, Celeste opened up a pack of Newports and tried lighting a cigarette. She flicked her lighter. It flashed and petered out. She huffed, and the cigarette dangled from her lips. A sign from God to quit, probably. A spark of another lighter glowed under her bottom lip.

Travis had followed her outside. So did the stranger and a few other men from Travis's Hotep crew.

"Sister Celeste, you know you should give up the devil's ways with this smoking," Travis said.

Celeste puffed to catch the flame, and Travis removed the lighter.

"Then why help me out?" she said.

She took a long drag and blew out away from his face and noticed a dark tattoo on the stranger's muscular right arm. An eight-pointed star floating above a crescent moon. Shit. Another Muslim. Last thing she wanted was to be lectured and recruited to be the next Betty Shabazz to a Malcolm X wanna-be. At least Travis wasn't slanging his bean pies or the Final Call at the bar. A real vibe killer. One thing the Nation had right by her was how they cleaned up Black men and turned them into fine specimens of manhood. She glanced at the tall, pretty boy with the hypnotic eyes. His plush lips looked so succulent for long, lusty kisses.

As-Salaam Alaikum, she muttered in her mind.

Her stomach fluttered at the grin on his face. Like he heard her thoughts. He turned to look at a few patrons entering the bar, and she glimpsed more ink on his left arm. A marine tattoo with black USMC lettering. An eagle sat on top of a globe underneath it, and Celeste looked away when he rested his gaze on her face again. Her cheeks warmed up like she was in a hot bath, and she parted her lips to take in more air. Feeling breathless, she jabbed her cigarette against the wall and tossed it in a garbage bin near the entrance.

"You ready, Duchess? They playing the down home blues in there and the old folks are taking over the dance floor," Nae Nae said with an annoyed stank face, joining Celeste outside with Joyce and Mercy.

Joyce handed her a paper plate with a piece of King Cake on it. Grateful for the distraction, Celeste took the plate and broke off a piece of the pastry. Stuffing it in her mouth, she chewed and Mr. Light Eyes pierced her soul with another drawn-out stare. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and pulled out a tiny brown plastic baby.

"Oop, you know what that means!" Joyce said.

Mr. Light Eyes seemed to float away with Travis and their male entourage down the street.

"I gotta bring the King Cake next year," Celeste said softly, holding the plastic baby in front of her lips, eyes still tracking the round, firm ass of the stranger in his jeans

The marine glanced back at her and smiled. She dropped her head forward, feeling lightheaded.

"You okay?" Joyce asked.

Celeste pocketed the plastic baby and linked arms with her friends.

"I'll go change inside and we'll be on our way! Let's get to clubbing!" Celeste said.

Chapter 3 HERE.

Masterlist.

Author's Note:

Hey y'all, the rest will drop on Halloween as promised! I had to set up my masterlist post now to make it easier when I upload the rest of the parts. Please share/reblog so we can get another Black fandom growing!

Tag List:

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

@slutsareteacherstoo

@nayaesworld

@notapradagurl17

@4pfsukuna

@yamst3rdamctrl

@sweettea-and-honeybutter

@comfortzonequeen

@theereina

@brattyfics

@prettyisasprettydoes1306

@megane96

@honeytoffee

@taurusqueen83

@mightbeher

@melaninpov

@carlakeks

@woahthatshitfat

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[juniperhillpatient]

Genuinely sooo much of Regina’s long-standing status as a fandom icon & so many peoples favorite character really does go to Lana Parilla & that’s not to diminish the script just to praise some truly phenomenal acting.

You can see SO much in Lana’s facial expressions & emotions & just the look in her eyes & that is CRUCIAL in maintaining Regina’s nuance & sympathy especially in season 1 before we fully understand just how absolutely devastating her backstory is.

Here is a woman who is undeniably the antagonist. She has just admitted to sentencing multiple children to death, her own son hates & fears her, & she’s borderline gleeful about sending 2 children to foster care to be separated & that’s just in this episode.

Regina isn’t just evil for the aesthetic she does genuinely reprehensible things to characters we care about time & time again. Yet when Michael says that line about family & she responds softly - tearfully - with a soft “no” the audience STILL feels for her. It goes back to the emotion Lana poured into the scene when Regina carves out her own father’s heart for her own powerful gain. This is a character who continuously makes the wrong choices & hurts others including those she cares about but also hurts herself in the process to the point you can’t help but feel bad for her while also feeling horrible for the many many people she victimizes.

And then this is sort of going off script from my original point of praising Lana Parillas acting & it’s also getting ahead of myself because I’m only on season 1 of my rewatch & Regina is still 100% absolutely no question the villain where I’m at in the rewatch but I also want to praise Regina’s slowburn redemption arc.

There were a lot of early hints like this about Regina’s tragic backstory but at the same time the show never once uses anything she’s gone through as a chance for the narrative to “forgive” her. It takes a LONG time & a lot of work on her part before the people she’s hurt start to forgive her & not all of them do. Those that do, it takes time for the relationships to build trust & even longer to build friendship.

Regina has to start making choices to be better & it’s always very clear it’s for both herself AND others once she begins to work on herself. For all my qualms with this show it got redemption arcs so incredibly right & assuming I don’t get distracted I’m so excited to experience her arc all over again in this rewatch.

Also, to the original point of what turned into a rant about Regina Mills - Lana Parilla is a God of acting HOW does she genuinely seem to BECOME her character feeling what Regina is feeling & allowing us to get so much insight into this character who - as of season 1 - is shrouded in mystery to the audience 😭

[kuwdora]

Saturday Morning Vid Recs - Space and Robots

@tafkarfanfic asked me for vid recs that are similar to the following vids:

Data’s Dream by GayleF (Gayle) and TasheryS which premiered at Escapade in 1994 - made on a VCR!! - and was remastered by morgandawn in 2004. Definitely check out the Fanlore page about Data’s Dream. Star Trek + multi-source.

Starships by bironic. Multi-source. The history of Starships on Fanlore.

These two vids are iconic. Please check them out and learn about their history from the Fanlore page, it's a great look at some vidding history and culture. Amazing vids, do love. As for some recs. I love this kind of prompt. More vids like [this vid] is so much fun. I dug deep into my vid rec archives and brain and bookmarks. I’ve also crowdsourced some recs from the vidding discord. Thank you to @rukbat3, @sandalwoodbox, @fairestcat, @monkeyswithjetpacks, @grammarwoman for the reccing help! And everyone else I might have forgotten.

From Land to Sky - and kicking ass while you're there!

Landsailor by @singlecrow/raven. Multi-source. Swades (We, The People); Master and Commander; 3 Idiots; The Dish; The West Wing; Parks and Recreation; Flight of the Phoenix; NASA archive footage; Apollo 13. ❤️ We're gonna need a bigger boat. Come O’ Eclipse by melodytree. Tenchi: The Samurai Astronomer. Calendar-making! Math puzzles! Astronomy! Politics! Eclipses! Oh my! Galaxyrise by starlady. Multi-source. Apollo 13 (1995), Interstellar (2014), Gravity (2013), Europa Report (2013), Contact (1997), The Martian (2015). This vid is full of so much wonder! The sky calls to us/If we do not destroy ourselves/We will one day venture to the stars. Going through space with the world by bironic. Space Exploration RPF. ❤️❤️❤️ From "day in the life of an astronaut" videos to international stardom; or, Chris Hadfield and his adorable mustache. Monsters of the Cosmos by CherryIce. Thor/MCU. Jane Foster/Science.Cherry’s editing is goddamn incredible. In the last century, black holes have gone from being mathematical curiosities to real objects in the cosmos. This is a vid about Jane Foster and her one true love, Science. Also, Thor is there. Toxic by JinkyO. The Planets (TV - 2019). Humanity/The Solar System. This vid is so fucking brilliant and makes me cackle in love and awe so much. It's dangerous, I'm loving it. Sci-Fi Friday in a Blender by Luminosity. Multi-source. Farscape, Battlestar Galactica and Doctor Who. So much happening in this vid. This is among one of the earliest vids I remember watching and became obsessed with back in the day. Supernova Girl by @usuallyhats. Multifandom. Doctor Who, Star Wars, Babylon 5, Steven Universe, Andromeda, Farscape, Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, Mass Effect, Stargate. So many wonderful brilliant amazing EXCELLENT supernova women and girls. Zoom, zoom, zoom. Space Girl by @aurumcalendula. Multi-source scifi. Inspired by Charmax’s Space Girl vid and Bironic’s The Greatest. This vid has a great selection of newer tv shows and films and it’s fun to play spot that character. But also this vid will grab you by the heart, too. Utterly brilliant, perfection. A must watch!! 'I've been as far in hyperspace as anybody can.' One Girl Revolution by bessyboo. Star Wars, original and prequel. Padme and Leia!! Seeing these two focused on in one Star Wars vid is an adventurous kickass ride. I'll be everything that I want to be. Space Girl by charmax. Multi-source scifi. One of the most beautiful epic space vids out there! I know I’ve recced this before and I’ll rec it again and again and again. My momma told me I should never watch Sci-fi but I did, I did, I did.

Robots! More than wires.

If a Machine by caramarie, Multi-source. Robot narrative focusing on machine origin, intelligence, and interaction with humanity. And Human fallibility. An incredibly rewarding watch and rewatch. This is the story of cables and copper wirings. Electric Avenue by @monkeyswithjetpacks. Multi-source robots! Nate’s multi-vids are always so fun, especially when it’s showcasing classic cinema and all these excellent serials. Electric Avenue has source from 1919 to 2015. His editing is always on fucking point. Don’t miss this vid. We’re gonna rock down to electric avenue. Everybody by @kuwdora. Star Trek, the Borg. This vid was actually inspired by the Backstreet Boys original music video. I still have the vivid memory of watching or rewatching the original music video in @ars-amatoria ’s kitchen. And then at some point realizing it is perfect for the Borg. Am I original, am I the only one? Fembots by Grammarwoman. Multi-source. Sexy sharp editing and fun use of all the sources. The intersection of women and technology: a spectrum of clones, AIs, gynoids, cyborgs, and other artificial creations. On by @rhoboat77. Star Trek: Picard. A Soji fanvid. Rho has the sharpest editing skills this side of the Internet and this Soji vid is so fucking badass and worth 100 rewatches. Can’t hold me down cuz you know I’m a fighter. Que Sera Sera by @ohvienna. Star Trek Voyager and Picard. Seven of Nine.Nobody vids their Seven of Nine love like @ohvienna. You gotta watch this if you love Seven. Whatever will be, will be…"

Journey through Space.

To Touch the Face of God by destina. Multi-source. The Right Stuff (1983, )The Dream Is Alive, From the Earth to the Moon (TV).This is one of the most beautiful moving vids you will EVER, and I mean EVER see. From Chuck Yeager, to the Mercury 7, and on to Apollo and the Space Shuttle Program (STS) - a very human history of the triumphs, joys, and tragedies of the USA's journey into space. Doctor Who on Holiday by sisabet. Farscape, Battlestar Galactica and Doctor Who. A mashup vid of Luminosity’s Sci-Fi Friday in a Blender. This vid inspired me so much. And I have 10 very intense ideas about how I would do my own remix of this vid if I were to make it right now. Fly Me To the Moon by thirdblindmouse. Multi-source. This vid has everything! Alien sex! Xenophilia! Zero-gravity sex! Mpreg!!! Because everyone knows this song is about space sex. Game Night in Space by garrideb. Multi-source. This vid!!!!! IS! SO! MUCH! FUN!! Game on! How are you going to spend those long nights on your starship? Play games, of course! Space poker, space chess, space Monopoly… this is a fanvid celebrating game night in space, set to Don't Stop Me Now by Queen. Starships (Monochromatic Remix) by @monkeyswithjetpacks. Multi-source. See the Fanlore page on the history of Starships (Monochromatic Remix). ALSO check out jetpack-monkey’s extensive notes and side-by-side comparison vid of the original vid and his vid!! He matched Starships shot-for-shot! Most brilliant work ever. The vid notes aren’t on the ao3 page so I HIGHLY recommend checking out the notes on his dreamwidth page! This vid is 10 million kinds of brilliant and technical prowess and perfection.

Vidshow Rec

Alien Invasion! - 30 vids curated and organized into a show by @tafadhali for VidUKon 2024. Featuring films and tv shows: Nope, Attack the Block, Pacific Rim, Venom, Doctor Who, Stargate Atlantis, Star Trek, Prey, Smallville, Rowswell, Supergirl, Arrival, Starship Troopers and more.

Follow these tags to keep up with vid recs this summer:

#saturday morning vid recs

#kuwdora recs

A helpful guide I wrote:

How to Leave Feedback on Fanvids