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fanficimagery · 2 years ago

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Roger, Roger

When one of the females gets too clingy and can't take a hint, Coco calls in backup.

Words: 3.2K Author's Note: Surprise! No one really wanted to read this one, so I figured I’d just get it out of the way.

I'm not sure where Coco grew up, so I'm just gonna say he grew up in Las Vegas. Trigger warning for violence? I don't know. I can't write fight scenes, but I tried.

Coco sits at a table, picking at the label on his beer bottle as Mya drones on and on next to him. She'd been new to the clubhouse, bright-eyed and eager to please any man in a kutte, and he'd made the unfortunate mistake of sleeping with her a little over a week ago. Most women knew the drill, never seeking out a second encounter unless the Mayan sought her out, but not Mya.

Apparently, she couldn't take a hint like everyone else.

"So, I was thinking that if the boys don't need you tomorrow night, you can take me on a date," Mya says. Her hand lands on his thigh under the table, sliding upward. "You know how much I wanna climb onto the back of your bike."

Coco reaches under the table, grasping her hand. "No," he says as he shoves her hand away.

"Coco!" Mya stands, stomping her foot in a huff. "We've been dating-"

"We're not fuckin' dating!"

She gasps at his explosive response, completely oblivious to those in the clubhouse who've stopped what they were doing in order to pay attention to them. Her expression morphs from one of shock to utter rage within seconds and she grabs up her glass of beer, tossing the liquid into his face. "You need to get your priorities straight, Coco! I'll see you tomorrow and your attitude better be well adjusted or this-" she practically screams at him, gesturing wildly between the two of them, "is over!"

As she stomps off, Coco angrily swipes the beer off his face and slicks back his hair. Laughter erupts behind him as hands clamp down on his shoulders and he rolls his eyes as Angel steps aside to pull out the chair next to him. "Fuck off, Angel."

"Bro, what the fuck?" He continues to laugh as Bishop takes a seat across the table from them, shaking his head in amusement. "I thought you had that shit handled?"

"Pendeja doesn't know how to take a hint." Coco takes a sip of his beer, letting his anger fester. "I was moments away from clockin' her."

"We don't hit women," Bishop reminds him.

"I think we can make an exception just this once."

Angel laughs at how worked up his brother is.

"No." Bishop's answer is final. "If you want her truly gone, get one of the other females to take care of it."

"And risk them getting infatuated with our little Coco," Angel muses. "He'll be starting from square one all over again, Bish."

Coco remains silent, pondering his next course of action. "What if I get an outsider to do it?"

"Female?" Bishop wonders.

"Yeah." Coco sips his beer. "Got a friend in Vegas. She's kind of protective, but won't start shit unless she knows I can't handle it myself."

"You tapped that?" Angel asks, but his brother merely scoffs, shaking his head. He grins as he tries to ruffle Coco's hair. "I didn't know Coco Puff needed a bodyguard."

"Fuck off, man. She grew up in the system. Had a tough childhood, so we bonded over dumb shit before I split for the Marines. She's basically my sister."

"A sister we never met?" Bishop arches an eyebrow at him.

"She's got her own shit going on." Coco shrugs. "She knows about the club, but never really had time to make the drive down here."

"Call her. I need to meet this girl," Angel says. "Party's tomorrow so we know Mya's gonna be in top form."

Coco looks at Bishop and his president shrugs. "Handle your shit without laying hands on a woman. Call your girl in if you have to."

Finishing off his beer, Coco sets the empty bottle aside before bringing out his phone. He taps away at his screen before finding what he wants, and then puts his phone on speaker before setting it down on the table. It rings and rings, and then.."

"Johnny!"

He grins at her excited greeting. "Hey, 'mana, you busy?"

"For you? Never. What's up?"

"There's a female here at the club who can't comprehend I ain't interested. I wanna lay hands on her, but-"

"Let me guess, el presidente said no?"

"Bish said no," he chuckles.

"So what do you need from me? Want me to dig up some dirt? Slash some tires? Pour sugar into her gas tank?"

"Jesus Christ," Angel murmurs, stifling his laughter.

"I need you to be at the party and throw hands if it comes down to it."

"Oohh. Tempting."

"Free drinks all night."

"Even more tempting."

Coco sighs. "I'll throw in a slice of cheesecake."

"Make it a whole strawberry cheesecake and I'll pack a bag and start driving right now."

"Fine, fatass. Just get here in time for the party."

"Don't fat shame me, 'mano, or I'll tell your stage five clinger that you're just playing hard to get and leave you to defend yourself."

"Puta."

"You know it. Love 'ya, Cruz. I'll be there tomorrow to collect that cheesecake."

When you pull up to the Romero Brothers Scrap and Salvage yard, a man stops you at the gate and then directs you where to park when you mention you're looking for Johnny Cruz- or Coco as they know him.

The clubhouse where the Mayans congregate looks exactly like Johnny explained to you once upon a time. There is a row of motorcycles parked nearby, but you make sure to park away from them to lessen the chance of accidentally knocking one over. It's happened before, thankfully not to an MC member, and the rider was pretty pissed. You can only imagine how an actual MC member would react to their precious bike taking a tumble.

As you exit your vehicle and stretch your limbs, the clubhouse door opens and out step several men and what appears to be a teenager. Coco appears at the back of the crowd and hops down the steps, intent on meeting you halfway. He smirks as he nears and you can't help but laugh as you throw your arms wide and embrace your childhood friend.

"Holy shit, Cruz! It's been a minute." As you pull back from the hug, your hands reach up to grasp at his hair as you look him up and down. "See, I told you you'd look hot with long hair."

He laughs as he steps back. "Still blunt as ever, I see."

"Always." Your eyes dart to the men and the girl now waiting at the bottom of the steps to the clubhouse. "Now introduce me to your brothers. If you had told me they were this hot, I'd have come a lot sooner."

"Please don't bang my brothers."

"I won't." You laugh. "But I will ogle because holy shit."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on." Coco leads you to his brothers and introduces the ones who'd come out- Bishop, Angel, Creeper, and EZ. Then he walks over to the teenager who doesn't know what to make of you and slings an arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to his side. "And this little ball of attitude of Letty. My daughter."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do, your eyes widen. "Daughter?" Your gaze darts between the two of them in surprise and you finally see her facade crack as she slowly grins. "Holy shit! You had a mini you?!" You reach forward then, grabbing the girl and tugging her closer to you before forcing her into a hug. As you hold her with one arm, you point threateningly at the men. "I only had mini-Cruz for a hot minute, but I will protect her with my life." The girl laughs against you and then you pull back a bit, looking her in the eye. "If anyone tries to fuck with you, they gotta go through your new tia YN."

"Sure thing, tia."

"Aw. You're definitely a Cruz. I'd know that attitude anywhere."

"Alright," Coco sighs. "Can we go inside now? You need to rest up before Mya gets here and tries your patience."

"Uh huh. And do you have the payment?"

"EZ's got the cheesecake in the cooler."

"Awesome. Let's get inside then. I need to collect myself before I gotta put the sucia in her place."

You release Letty to go back to your vehicle, grabbing your bag from the backseat before heading into the clubhouse alongside Coco. The inside is not as big as you were expecting, but it's the perfect place to hang out for select individuals. The ones you previously had been introduced to go their separate ways as Coco introduces you to a few new individuals. Then when they all know who you are and what you mean to Coco, you're led to a back room where you can rest before you have to freshen up for the party.

. .

Later on, when the sun's gone down and the clubhouse becomes even more livelier, you jump in the shower. You dress in a rock band tee that's one size too small, its sleeves and about four inches of the bottom half of the shirt missing. You pull on a pair of jean shorts and a pair of very worn in Doc Martens, and then tie your hair up in a ponytail to keep your hair out of your eyes.

A knock on the door sounds just as you reach for the doorknob, and you open up with a smile. Letty's on the other side, grinning as she holds a plate of cheesecake. "Coco said to bring this in hopes of bribing you out of the room."

"I was already on my way, but thanks." You take the plate of cheesecake from her, grabbing the fork and taking a bite of the cream cheesy goodness. "Mmm. God, I love this stuff."

"I can see that." Letty gestures towards the hallway behind her. "Mya will be here soon. I never liked her. She didn't seem too impressed when she found out Coco had a daughter."

"Well now I dislike her even more," you muse. "Lead the way, favorite niece o'mine."

Letty smiles as she does as she's told. You follow her, finishing off your slice of cheesecake in record time and hand the plate off to some female behind the bar who seems to have just swapped duties with EZ for the rest of the night.

The table Letty leads you to is already occupied by Angel, Coco and Creeper. EZ brings a round of beers for everyone, except for Letty, and takes a seat with all of you.

"So how is it that a girl like you calls Coco her best friend?" Angel wonders.

"What do you mean by a girl like me?"

"Look at you, you're hot!" He exclaims. EZ snorts as Coco and Creeper shake their heads in amusement at their brother. "You could pass for a hookup, but a best friend? Nah, I don't see it."

"Well, see it." You chuckle. "Coco and I have been friends for as long as I can remember."

Creeper glances between you and Coco. "The two of you had to have hooked up in the past."

"Why are you guys so adamant that we hooked up?"

"You guys don't know YN like I do," Coco says as he takes a drink of his beer. "She was really crazy back then. I am man enough to admit that I wouldn't have been able to handle her as a hookup when we were younger."

"Aw. That was the sweetest thing you ever said about me," you coo, "but I was not crazy."

"Yeah, you were, mujer. Do you or do you not remember when I had to rush to the club and pick your ass up before the cops showed because you stabbed a guy?"

Your mouth instantly falls open to defend yourself, but you end up shrugging. "That guy should have walked away when he had the chance."

"You didn't have to stab him," Coco muses.

"You weren't there. You didn't hear what he said to me!"

"What- what did he say?" Angel asks, eyes sparkling in amusement already.

"What are you gonna do? Stab me?"

EZ is the first to laugh, the rest of the men following behind him. Letty is the only one who shrugs. "Yeah, that's fair."

"See!" You point at Letty. "She gets it."

"That's because she's exactly like you were when we were teens."

"And that's why you're now my favorite Cruz," you say, slinging an arm around her shoulders and holding her close.

Angel watches the two of you, eyes narrowing slightly. "You two aren't allowed to be alone together. Ever."

You and Letty simultaneously smirk as the men shiver, and then Coco decides to divulge more of your past. You throw in your own two cents here and there, so they don't think you were the only out of control teenager. Coco had his moments too, but most of the time it was him pulling you out of some dumb situation you put yourself in.

You're barely on your second beer, having relaxed and forgetting all about why you're really there, when EZ's lips quirk into a grin. "Trouble just walked through the door."

Coco tenses in his seat and you eagerly glance around to see who it is that's causing your friend so much trouble. The girl that's standing closest to the door and looking around for someone is obviously beautiful, and you can see why Coco went for her. But the sequined mini dress and the too tall stilettos have no place in a biker clubhouse, and the moment her eyes land on Coco, you know the night just took a turn for the interesting.

"Oohh. She's pretty," you muse. "You need to work on that radar though, Cruz, because I can smell the psycho all the way from over here. I don't know how you missed it."

"He was too worried about getting laid to see it," Angel mutters.

You can only smile, keeping an eye on the woman apparently named Mya as she makes a beeline for the table you're sitting at. Creeper and Letty are the only two capable of keeping their expressions schooled whereas Angel and EZ are already grinning. Coco heaves a long-suffering sigh and you can't help but snicker as he kicks you under the table.

"Hey, baby," Mya coos, her hand landing on his shoulder before sliding down and across his chest as if claiming him in front of everyone. "Are you in a better mood tonight?"

Coco shrugs her off, staring up and glowering at her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"W-What?" She tenses. Her eyes subtly widen before she pouts. "I just thought we could have some fun tonight since you boys don't seem too busy."

"Well you thought wrong, mujer. Now get the hell out of here."

You're watching the girl as her expression flickers from hurt to anger and you subtly scoot your chair back. You catch Letty and EZ's eye on either side of you, motioning for them to do the same because one wrong move on Mya's part and you were throwing yourself across the table.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Her voice rises and you clench your jaw when you notice those closest to your group start paying immediate attention. One hand goes to her hip, but the other she uses her pointer finger to press against Coco's temple and shove his head to the side. "You can't just fuck me and toss me out like last night's garbage."

The amusement instantly drains from your expression. "Watch it, niñita," you call out, relaxed in your seat but ready to fly off the handle if necessary. "Coco might not lay hands on you, but I sure as hell will."

Mya scoffs when she looks at you. "You're not gonna do shit, new girl. Coco's my man and I'll treat him how I want, when I want."

"The fuck you will!" Letty practically shouts, leaning forward in her seat. You catch her by the shoulder though, pulling her back into her seat. She glances at you; furious you would keep her from defending her father.

Mya's gaze darts between you and Letty, and smirks when you turn your attention back to her. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

She goes to shove Coco again and between one blink and the next, you're launching yourself across the table. Angel, Creeper and Coco shove their chairs back with a shout, and you manage to grasp the neckline of Mya's dress in hand before reeling back with your dominant hand and delivering punch after punch.

She shrieks, attempting to cover her face with one arm and swatting out with her other. Her nails manage to catch your shoulder and neck as she stumbles back and forth in her ridiculous heels, and you take the both of you down when someone shoves you hard in the back. You hear the men shout, but your attention is solely focused on Mya as she shouts and squirms beneath you.

You hit her twice more when someone grabs you by the ponytail, yanking you backwards. You yell out as you scramble backwards, only to have the body at your back suddenly yanked away. When you whirl around, your mouth drops open at the sight of the president of the Mayans standing over some guy on the ground and holding his jaw.

"Get your puta and get the fuck outta my club," Bishop says. "Number one rule is we do not lay hands on a woman."

"But this bitch-"

"Who are you calling a bitch, pinche pendejo?" You stalk up to him, kicking him across the face. You don't knock him out, which is a pity, but you do see his mouth fill with blood. You sneer down at him before marching your way back towards Mya, sneering at her as she scrambles back. "And you!" You grab her by the arm and drag her towards the clubhouse doors. "Consent works both ways. Now get the fuck outta here. I don't want to see your face around here again."

"But you're not even-"

"I said get out!" You shove her towards the door, taking too much delight in the way she trips over her own two feet.

As you watch her and the man who had dared grab you collect themselves and walk out, you keep an eye on them while redoing your own hair. Then when you turn around, you roll your eyes with a laugh as Coco, Angel, EZ, Creeper, Letty, Bishop and several other men applaud you. The other women are looking at you with respect in their gazes and you smile at them, showing them that you're not a total bitch.

"Yeah, yeah. Show's over."

"And that, hermanos, is the girl I grew up with. Only she was a lot more volatile back then," Coco says as you near.

"Whatever. She got off easy. Both of them you did," you grumble.

Angel laughs. "We thought Bishop was going to blow a gasket. The second that puto grabbed you, every man in here lurched forward. Bishop just beat us to the punch."

"Well, I feel honored," you muse. You head back over to the table, laughing as EZ picks up your turned over chair. "Now can someone grab me an ice pack? My hand's starting to hurt."

#mayans gen fic x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagine #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #angel reyes #ez reyes #letty cruz #obispo losa #bishop losa #mayans #mayans mc

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cloveroctobers · 2 years ago

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RIO/MANNY x black! Reader | October Prompts!

A/N: andddd we’re back! Back at it again with some spooky content for you. We love writing for Rio/Manny so I thought why not? Also threw another handsome man into the mix…so we’ll see how this works out! Shall we?

Prompt: #2. “Trust no one tonight.” + #4. “The house is not haunted.”

Synopsis: Rio/Manny warns you to be careful tonight and suddenly the house feels a lot bigger and creepier without him there. So you invite over a new friend you made to mainly keep you company but to show them that your mind is not playing tricks on you.

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“Trust no one tonight,” Manny’s voice tells you as you’re standing in the kitchen, hand deep into a chip bag.

Instantly a frown appeared on your face, “and what do you mean by that, Manny?”

It was mostly silent on his side of the line until you heard the acceleration of his engine before he basically ignored you, “where’s my girl?”

“You’re talking to her.”

Manny chuckled on the other line, “oh so you love me again?”

You scowled putting the phone on speaker and tossing it onto the island. It’s been five months since you brought up the idea of separation but not a divorce. Manny was your husband of eight years but the danger of his lifestyle started to become unsettling to you. Of course you were loyal, he could never say you weren’t but having him brush off the fact that he was almost burned alive scared you. He had to come clean to his Mayan Charter, that he was part of something much bigger than they knew.

Which brought on higher demands and not seeing him at all. The two of you shared a four year old and if you had to raise her yourself, you would. You preferred not to but Manny made that hard and he didn’t like you questioning him. He just expected you to, “trust the process.” He would do anything for the both of you, the two of you were his entire world and he was involved in a lifestyle that could hand him his death sentence any day. He was down for the cause and providing for his family was his number one goal.

“I never stopped loving you,” you sighed, “don’t get on my nerves Manny. What’s up?”

Manny answered, “ez’s supply got burned to a crisp so he came to myself and Mick to make a trip over the border. Let’s just say, shit went left over there and you know I don’t flee from much.”

This was true and frustrating. You didn’t need to know every detail of your man’s business but just the basics. Things like this? You needed to know. When Manny provided vague sentences and started questioning about your daughter’s whereabouts and whenever he mentioned those fucking Reyes brothers—you had questions.

Manny knew how to be strategic so if anything took a turn, he was quick on his feet to handle it. That you knew. The secret was out that Manny had his own connections and could supply what was needed. Miguel Galindo was hiding in the shadows so someone had to take over but that was not how Manny originally wanted to play it. So you left the raised ranch in Santo padre to a mid-century home out in Palm Springs, away from everyone and almost everything.

“Which is why I’m asking, where’s Maeve?”

“She’s with her aunt and uncle for the weekend remember?” You replied, “they wanted to take her and the twins to the theme park with those tickets you gave them for their birthday.”

Your younger siblings were roommates in a shared town home out in San Diego and often took Maeve to spend time with your brother’s kids. You had plans to enroll Maeve into a private school next year but would strongly consider homeschooling if Manny’s profession got significantly worse.

“Mmm, I’ll get mick on that.”

Widening your eyes you said, “damn, that bad huh?”

“Yeah, kinda. Don’t worry about it too much, mama.” Manny answered, “I’m on my way back but I don’t recommend leaving the house once nightfall comes through. Shut everything down the minute the sunsets you hear me?”

Puffing out a breath you scowled, “what if I had plans now that Maeve is with my sibs?”

“That’s cancelled, I thought that was obvious.” He chuckled.

Your eyes were rolling. It’s not like you did have plans exactly this weekend, it was supposed to be a chill one but the fact of the matter is: you could have had plans and things often have to be rearranged due to Manny’s surroundings.

“Mama?” He pressed.

“Yes. I know. Operation lockdown by 6pm until otherwise stated.”

“Trust no one.”

You repeated, “And trust no one.”

“Aight.”

Just like that you were off the phone with a long sigh and a childish stomp of your feet. Everything from this point on was a routine: checking the time, checking the fridge for leftovers, putting some tunes on by voice command, and ran your bath water as you stripped, sitting in your bra and panties while you scrolled Twitter.

A gush of warm-like air brushed against your kitchen, almost as if someone was breathing right behind you as you sat on your bed. You whipped around, eyes scanning the ceiling in search of the placement of the vent. Yes the central heat turned on minutes after you got off the phone with Manny. That was the reason why you decided to take a bath, turning it up slightly just to keep it warm while you bathed.

Most of the vents in the bedrooms were only on the floor and not the ceiling. Rubbing at the spot, you pushed off the bed to quickly enter the bathroom with a lock of the door. Settling into the bubble bath, you plucked the flute glass off the wooden tray and enjoyed your personal time to yourself. The worry of tonight went to the back of your mind as you dozed off for some time.

A quick yank by the tips of your exposed feet had you underwater. The gasping for air made you choke, hands gripping the sides of the tub while you felt pressure on your chest, holding you down. This couldn’t be a simple mistake of dozing off? Not when it felt like something cold and solid was keeping you in place between your breasts?!

Your lungs were burning for air until you were able to feel in control of your body again. Popping out of the water, you choked lounging onto the side of the tub, cheek and ankle resting along the cool edge. Coughing you quickly wiped the bubbles off your face, glancing down at your toes to see your big toe nail appeared to be bleeding along with a dark purple ring circling your ankle.

Once you gained the strength to pull yourself out onto the tile floor you fought to gain your breath back. A towel was eventually wrapped tightly around your body, water drained, gauze secured around your toe; with your phone pressed against your ear.

Manny now had ten missed calls.

Cautiously you found some clothes to throw on, leg bouncing as you sat on your bed. You locked yourself in the bathroom but didn’t feel safe there and now you were back in the bedroom and you didn’t a hundred percent feel safe there either.

That’s when you felt it again. Warm breath against the back of your neck followed by a sinister whisper, “Malachi.”

If you ever seen Tom and Jerry? You were Tom shooting up from your bed after that. Fumbling with the door knob, you did not look behind you as you hobbled down the hallway ordering your phone to call someone else instead.

Twenty minutes later you flung the front door open, revealing a new friend you made three months ago downtown named: Max Parish. The buzz haired man stared down at you as your eyes held complete fear in them.

“What’re you still doing in the house?” Max huffed as he took in the sight of you, barely dressed.

“I can’t exactly leave.”

Max sucked his teeth now stepping into the house, “Manny would just have to understand the circumstances especially if you said someone’s in the house.”

“I’m better off taking my chances here than whatever he’s got himself messed up in out there.” You argued.

Max eyed the house. This was his first time being over at your new upgrade and it didn’t feel like something you’d pick really. In your mind, you always felt like you were being watched here. It never felt like home, not like Detroit.

“The hell am I doing?” Max muttered to himself, “go wait in the car.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m gonna scope the house out.” He raised his jacket, showing his piece tucked in his waist band, “make sure they get the message.”

Given Manny’s lifestyle outside of his family, of course he kept a gun in the house just in case. The sight of the gun attached to Max’s body wasn’t foreign to you yet you still found yourself taking a sharp inhale. You knew how to fire a gun and had a solid hand but unfortunately you did not have the pleasure of liking them. It made you uncomfortable to know that there was one in this house especially when Maeve was around. You were waiting any second for the feds to come searching the house, (you just had to think of the worse if it ever happened, something manny got on you about) although manny didn’t have anything to hide here.

“It’s not—it’s not a person.” You mumbled out as Max started moving.

He stopped in his tracks, “you said—

“I know what I said,” you exasperated, “there’s something in this house, Max.”

A small smile played on Max’s lips then, “something?” He echoed, “like what?”

“The fucking devil! I don’t know! All i know is, one minute I’m minding my black ass business and the next, I’m being drowned in the tub and someone’s screaming in my got damn ear.” You explained to Max who rubbed at his beard.

His laugh was full of disbelief as he shook his head. “I thought you said it was something not someone.” He teased.

“I’m not making this shit up! I’m really freaked out and I would handle it myself but you’re the closest thing I got when manny’s not answering his phone!” You attempted to pace in the entry way and that’s when Max took in your full appearance.

He missed the bandage around your foot and your coils were dripping down your oversized tee. The friendship between you and Max was not instant, you met at a cafe—which sure was cliché but you payed for his drink just for him to chase you and scold you about it on your way to your cosmetology course—which so happened to be in the same building as Max’s cooking course.

It was war from that point because there maybe some things that made you uncomfortable but you did not take well to someone talking to you crazy. Being yelled at was a trigger for you and you didn’t need some 6’5 man yelling at you for being kind. Max ended up apologizing to you the week after at the next class meeting, telling you that he was simply having a bad day since it was the anniversary of his fiancée’s passing. Again that had nothing to do with you, he acknowledged that and soon ended up buying your beverage every Thursday before class.

Somehow you built a friendship around that. When either of you called the other, most of the time you were jumping to each other’s aide but not without some shit talking first on the side.

“Wait,” Max ran a hand over his buzzed head, “you said manny wasn’t picking up his phone?”

“Yeah.”

“And did you talk to him before that?”

“Yes. He told me…not to trust anyone.” Your eyes were wide, “Oh my god, get out!” You ordered.

Max raised his brows as you began shoving him backwards but he barely budged. He gripped your hands trying to get you to calm down, figuring whatever manny put into your head before these events probably increased your paranoia. From what max learned about your relationship with manny, he personally didn’t care much for him although he’s never met him, Max just felt like Manny didn’t have his priorities straight when it came to you or his child.

He kept that to himself though.

Once Max got a hold of your face, he turned your head to the side by your jaw, catching the red liquid that slid out the side of your ear.

Okay…that was concerning.

“Whatever you’re thinking had nothing to do with me. I promise,” Max gently spoke, “but could it be manny playing a trick on you?”

“No.” You shook your head, “why would he do that?”

“I don’t know.” Max lifted his shoulders, eyes glancing around this Brady bunch ass house, “you tell me.”

“He’s coming back from Mexico tonight…i assume with the Yuma and Santo Padre charter. I don’t know who stayed back but he knows I don’t care to have them around me—even if it’s for his idea of protection. The only one I trust is Mick and Manny said he was sending him off to Maeve…but why isn’t he answering his phone?” You thought out-loud.

Max hummed as he let go of your face, surveying the house once more. It was quiet, much like you would expect a home in the desert with a Mountain View to be. Perhaps it was a figment of your imagination after Manny caused you to be on alert? Majority of the time you were a homebody, if you weren’t with your daughter you’d invite a friend or two over but most of the time you were alone and without your husband.

“Maybe…”

Your eyes were in slits as you peered at your friend.

“The house is not haunted.” Max stated, “your husband set your anxiety off…if he’s not lurking in the basement or something.”

Crossing your arms you still felt upset, “I don’t think we have a basement and I didn’t do this to myself.”

Max was no therapist and it’s not like he thought you needed one or anything! It’s just it’s always a possibility when you have a lot going on in your life right? He didn’t want to say anything to make you feel worse so he inhaled.

“Okay then, shut the door. Let me check for you.” Max instructed as you swallowed the lump in your throat, first checking the time on your phone and slamming the door shut.

The man lifted a brow as you walked by him to the hallway. Slowly he followed you to see you reaching for the side of what appeared to be a abstract painting, which slid to the side at your touch. Max was in awe as the wall proceeded with the same movement, revealing a panel behind it. Your fingers flew over the monitor, punching in some numbers before you pulled the switch into a downwards position.

‘Lockdown activated.’ Flashed in bright text before the clinging of metal followed.

Max’s head turned towards the front, noticing the windows becoming dark followed by the front door clinking with more locks.

“This manny’s work too?”

“Anything for his family.” You were quiet now as you went into the kitchen before calling out, “audio off.”

Which cut off some The Mamas and The Papa’s song he was sure his red headed aunt listened to when she was growing up. Max didn’t pick up on the music playing until he realized how dejected you appeared.

“Anything for his family? Yet he’s not answering your calls? Eh, I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right here.”

“Max,” you started pinching the space in between your brows, “the first thing I would want him to do is go to our daughter. If I’m in trouble, I’d figure it out.”

“He’s got you trained then.” Max sarcastically said, “yet I’m here and he’s not.”

Glared you hissed, “maybe I want the spirits to get your ass first just to give me enough time to get out here, did you ever think about that?”

“So a set up is it?” Max was smug, “you just put us in lockdown which means no one in and no one out. Sounds like you just killed us both dont you think?”

“I’m…really starting to hate men who’s names start with the letter ‘m.’”

“Aw, thank you, babe.” Max placed his hand on his chest mockingly while you fanned your hand at him.

Leaning against the island, you rocked back and forth slightly looking around. “You really don’t think this place is haunted?”

“I’ve seen a lot in my life but there’s only one way to find out.” Max declared, “I’ll check the place out now…since I don’t really have a choice now that you locked me in here with you. Thanks for the option by the way.”

“Oh, You’re welcome sweetie.” You gave a small smile.

Max scoffed with a shake of his head, “don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Well…it was fun while it lasted.”

“Max!”

“I’m kidding! Just relax, finish your merlot…better yet, don’t.” Max had his eyes elsewhere as he slowly began to creep around the house and out of your sight.

Once max was gone you stared at the bottle, gripping it, taking a sip before you shoved it into the fridge with a sigh.

The house still didn’t feel as comforting even with max being here with you. Not only did it not feel like home but it always felt eerie, too long and separate from what a house should be. You didn’t get a say when Manny just uplifted you and Maeve to this house. Marriage was supposed to be about a partnership yet most of the time you felt like it was you on your own.

Everything felt like it was always on his terms and in a sense it made you think of “Rio” more than anything. Christopher changed his name and his image once he decided California would be your next move. You didn’t mind the move much since that meant being closer to your siblings…however there was a contrast to this ordeal; not just in the exterior of your relationship but also what should have felt like the inside of a home was anything but.

He was supposed to be that.

Which is why you brought up separation. To test Manny, to see if he rather work on this marriage or continue diving into his job. You were understanding for years! His life was constantly on the line and you were stuck always watching from the sidelines. He could never leave this life, it’s been this way since he was a teenager. Since you learned about his previous relationship, the one that mattered, before you.

You gotta go where you wanna go

Do what you wanna do

With whoever you wanna do it with

The distortion of the previous track began to play throughout the house, making you sit up straight at the bar stool.

“The hell? Audio off.” You called out just for the track to continue on with its chopped and screwed version.

Babe, you gotta go where you wanna go

Do what you wanna do

With whoever you wanna do it with

“Isla?” Max called out to you, making you snap your head to look at Max being led into the kitchen by a gun.

Hoping off the chair you winced at the pressure and gripped the island for support, “Manny?! What’re you doing?”

“I thought I made it pretty clear not to trust nobody tonight, mama.” Manny’s smooth voice was leveled as he looked at you, “Just to my surprise, you have some dude who prolly goes to Coachella to sniff coke off some girl’s asscrack, up in our house.”

Max gave the 6’1 man the side eye, “that’s very specific and judgmental of you.”

“I advise you to stop trying to talk to me before I split your shit forward.”

Max widened his eyes at you, wondering when you were going to step in. He could definitely say he personally wasn’t a fan of your husband after this.

“Okay none of that!” You yelled over the music.

Manny glanced around and it was his voice this time to say, “audio off.”

Which shut the music completely off.

Now ain’t that some shit?

“Manny…you better start talking.”

Manny grinned at you but it was anything but sweet. He nodded his head at you, “you want to start making demands when I’m just trying to have your best interest at heart tonight? What about mine? Who the fuck is this?”

“Max is my friend.” You blinked, “are you seriously threatening his life in front of me now to prove what exactly? Never mind that, let’s discuss why you didn’t answer your damn phone when I needed you huh?!”

Manny licked his lips, “I got caught up, my phone was acting up the second I got back in town like I knew it would. I got here as fast as I could…so mind telling me what’s going on?”

“That sounds like bullshit, honestly.” Max commented just for Manny to take the butt of the gun and jam it at the back of Max’s skull.

You yelped as Max dropped to his knees, groaning as he did so. Your eyes were wide as Manny smirked to himself, surveying the larger man on his kitchen floor.

“I don’t think I asked for your opinion, Coachella.”

Shaking your head you stepped forward to check on your friend but the look Manny sent you made you pause. “Max, you okay?” You asked, eyes still set on your husband who crossed his arms.

Max continued groaning, “I’ve dealt with worse. Just give me a second.”

“Ooo,” Manny nodded his head impressed, “Coachella’s got bravery which is the only explanation I can think of to why you’re entertaining him behind my back.”

Scoffing you looked away in incredulity and held up your hands. “First I thought it was me losing my sanity here but I’m convinced it’s your stupid ass!”

“Want to run that by me again, mama?” Manny stepped over Max who now laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, dazed.

You also stepped to Manny, making your heated eyes meet his. Toe to toe you said, “I didn’t fucking stutter. Separation does not mean I suddenly went screwing other men, making you sleep in the other room does not mean I’m screwing other men. I wouldn’t do that to us. let me make this clear and final to you, I’m not screwing Max. I’m allowed to have male friends.”

“I don’t have female friends because I respect this marriage too much. I expect you to do the same…I know how jealous it makes you to see me with another so I don’t.” Manny shrugged his shoulders as if he was doing you a damn favor.

“Jealous?! Uh, no.” You pointed at him almost laughing in his face, “you don’t get to stand here and insult me. You certainly do and the difference is I trust you! I trust you to put them in their place if they ever take it there.”

“I have colleagues that are women, doesn’t exactly make them my friends.” Manny informed you, slits in his eyes while you just closed your own with a slow shake of your head.

Manny even went as far to curl a finger around one of your damp coils. He studied your face while you tried to get your thoughts together. He loved when you said your peace because that let him know you had a mind of your own, even if it pissed him off a good percentage of the time. It wasn’t about who was right or wrong, it was about who had the last word and who stood by it.

Take that how you will.

“Guys,” Max had been moaning for quite some time, almost missable as you pressed your forehead against Manny’s chin.

“What’s going on in the pretty head of yours, Hm? What happened?” Manny lightly caressed the back of your neck, squeezing and massaging the tension there.

That’s when your eyes met his again, “you need to be honest and tell me what else you’re hiding?”

He frowned.

“GUYS!” Max yelled just as his own body was lifted into the air by his feet and flung over their heads into the hallway.

Both you and Manny watched in horror as the man’s body left a dent in the wall before he fell into unconsciousness. The lights began to automatically flicker on and off along with the music playing again. Protectively Manny gripped your shoulders bringing you into his frame, pointing the glock into the air—not seeing anything to shoot at.

“We have to get to the basement.” Manny suggested.

“What? We have a basement?”

“It’s the safest for us.” He spun you by the hips, hand slipping down your arm to tighten his hand against yours and leading you through the house.

“Max,” you whispered, “we can’t just leave him.”

“Yes we can,” Manny almost smacked his lips, “as long as he’s out, she won’t get him.”

“She?!”

“C’mon, Isla.” Manny pulled on your arm as he led you towards the bedrooms, “or do you want her playing tennis with your body like she did max?”

Well that wasn’t funny. At least not now.

Cautiously you decided to look over your shoulder, seeing Max’s limb peeking out from behind the wall. And what did you do that for? You saw her dressed as if she was from a different decade standing over Max’s body. A gray hand pressed onto the side of the wall, long sickly fingers and black sharp nails. Her face appeared around the wall, peeking right at you, what could have been a beautiful face turned horrid.

Her jaw was down too low, eyes also black with no pupil as she screamed at you before she began floating towards you. The evoked a scream out of you but as soon as it left your lips you felt Manny yank on your arm once more, followed by him shoving you up behind a door, hand clasped over your mouth.

“Sssh,” he coached you, eyes drifting from your frightened stare as he looked at the door listening to what sounded like the clicking of heels.

“Malachi,” the woman in white called.

Which made you clench your eyes shut just as Manny carefully locked the door to your daughter’s bedroom. Keeping a finger to his lips, he guided you away from the door, taking slow steps back to the spacious closet. Sliding the barn door closed behind you, Manny went to the old diaper changing station that stood in the center of the closet. His hands went underneath it, pressing on something that slid the clothes on the rack out of the way.

With the gun he trailed it along the wall, making a symbol. Something you saw once at his grandmother’s house back in Detroit, a family crescent that was also tattooed somewhere on his back. The wall began to move, revealing a large safe. Manny tucked the gun into his waist band and quickly latched onto the handles, twisting and turning before it popped open.

He didn’t look back at you, holding his hand out and expecting you to grab it. You held your head back, staring up at the ceiling, making a silent prayer as your fingers found your husband’s. He led the way, stepping over and into the safe and helping you in as you did so. He closed the safe behind you, locking it with a scanner that went over his right eye.

You waited as he led the way, lights turning on at each step. The tunnel was cold, and illuminated in brown lighting as he led the way to the unknown.

Finding yourself sitting on a cozy tan couch in what appeared to be a control room, you sat as Manny brought you some warm apple cider in a mug you were looking for since you left Detroit. You hated warm apple cider and yet Manny came with a scooper dropping a few ice cubes into your mug. A small smile played on your lips as you stirred the beverage with a spoon before placing it on a side table near you.

“Might as well get comfortable down here, we’ll be here at least until dawn.” Manny mentioned, crouched over a control system that suddenly lit up, showing screens of the house.

He then picked up a walkie and connected it, “Mick? Maeve and Isla’s family good?”

“They’re fine.” Mick responded after some time, “they’re all having dinner.”

Your stomach rumbled at the thought. You were really looking forward to the leftover oxtail rasta pasta in the fridge. However your body was saying you were hungry but your mind was elsewhere.

“What about yall?” Mick asked.

Manny glanced over at you resting your head back on the couch, arms folded.

“We’re good…” Manny started, “first time actually seeing her tonight.”

“Shit.”

“Word. I’ll talk to you in a bit, brother.”

“Alright.”

Manny pulled his lips into his mouth, dropping his head a bit as he realized he had some explaining to do. Standing up he made his way over to you, plopping down so that your thighs were brushing.

“C’mere.” Manny attempted to scoop a arm across your shoulders.

You shoved him away by the chest, “no, fuck that. Start talking.”

Manny exhaled through his nostrils, tightening his jaw before he rubbed his hands against his pants, going to rest his elbows against his knees.

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say.”

You were silent but did not falter your gaze from the side of Manny’s face.

“This house is one of the only houses in the states that belonged to my family for centuries.” Manny started, “Nick was the one to get it remodeled but I outbid him on purchasing it. Which pissed him off in the end.” He was smirking making you want to slap it right off his gorgeous face.

So you opted for shoving his knee.

He cleared his throat, “I knew we would need a place to stay once it got out to the charter that I wasn’t one hundred percent who I said I was. It was perfect at the time, secluded and away from everybody. I’m shocked homeboy even managed to get here…you know once you get to this area things start to malfunction. There’s a reason for that.”

You held your breath.

“It’s her doing.” Manny continued, “my great great great—however many great aunt who keeps calling for someone named Malachi? Which is her son, lived and died here many years ago. It was brutal.”

Your crossed legs on the floor began to wiggle now, finger pressed to your temple. Manny picked up on this, reaching for your injured foot to rest across his lap as he sighed.

“This was only supposed to be a temporary spot! A month or two tops and we would be out of here, move somewhere else or build a place someplace else. It didn’t register that it’s the anniversary of what happened to them here.” Manny told you while you glared at him.

There was so much he was still leaving out.

“You must have had so much on your mind that you also forgot to mention to your wife that you wanted to move her and your four year old to the land of the damned?” You hissed.

Manny took your words with a grain of salt, “I didn’t know things would go this far. No one told me she would be a vengeful spirit. Like I said, it was only supposed to be a couple of weeks.”

“How did she die? What happened to her and the baby, Malachi?”

“…they accused her of being a undercover witch after she decided to leave the convent back in Mexico. She had miraculously became pregnant before with a boy she decided to name Malachi, most of the sisters tried to help her and convince her to stay believing it was a blessing instead but the head nun shunned her due to the actions she did not commit. So she crossed the border, found a home, this home, gave birth, and settled. What started out as a new chapter soon found a bitter end.” Manny caressed your ankle which actually began to throb again.

Manny sniffed, “the head nun went around convincing others that my aunt was a witch…she was a real hater even after my aunt left. A religious cult that the head nun was cool with—thats ironic right? Located my aunt and stole the four month old baby boy and drowned him in the creek up the road.”

You felt nauseous at this. A hand going up to cover your mouth as you had to calm yourself down. It made better sense now, upsetting nonetheless but at least you were finally getting the basis of this house.

“I almost drowned earlier,” you said with shaky breath.

Manny sat up.

“That’s why I called you multiple times before I reached out to max. It was her, your aunt. She did that to me.” Your eyes stared down at your foot, “she’s looking for her baby.”

“Which they never found, only his blanket…the investigators only found her body hanging and badly burned.” Manny’s voice was low as he realized, “I’m so sorry, mama.”

And you knew he was.

Another thought occurred to you, “Is Maeve going to be safe?”

“As long as she’s nowhere near this house. I made sure Mick understood that.” Manny replied with a curt nod.

Some tension seemed to release from your body at this news. Manny brought your legs up to his lips, placing a kiss at the purplish bruise on your ankle. His hands then slipped up your thigh to rest there while he now tried to pull you into his lap.

This time you allowed it but you were still aggravated. There was already so much going on in your lives and now you just learned about a (rightfully) vengeful family member that you didn’t really want to meet.

“You should have told me,” you said as Manny locked his lands around your waist, “then I wouldn’t have gotten max involved.”

“fuck him though. Forget about Chef Boyardee,” Manny said from over your head making you jerk your head back, “spending all this time with my girl, my wife. I just hope you didn’t bring him around my daughter.”

“What did you say?”

“Which part?” Manny cleared his throat, sitting his body up straight with you still in his lap.

You gripped his face turning it to look right at you. And manny did but not without a side eye radiating from his long lashes.

“How did you know he’s in the culinary business?”

“I told you I got eyes everywhere,” manny boldly notified.

“Manny you got three seconds to stop playing with me before I call Malachi my damn self.” You warned.

Manny held his hands out with a quirk of his thick brows, “oh excellent idea, mama. I’ve been ready to empty out the clip again, it’s been a few hours actually and since I was being generous and didn’t do that to max thanks to my friendliness with his aunt Melissa? I dare you.”

“You are deranged!” You yelled, “how are you friendly with his aunt Melissa?”

“You wanted Maeve in private school and I want her in public school. Did some digging on Max to find that the woman who raised him, his aunt on his deceased father’s side is a school teacher. Fascinating isn’t it?” Manny told you.

Getting off his lap you should have known. This was the man you married, the man who always had a plan. You were starting to wonder did you meet Max out of pure coincidence or was this all part of whatever game Manny was playing?

“…Does max work for you?”

“Nah,” Manny smirked, “you did that all on your own, sweetheart. but…he can if he wants to get that restaurant started.”

“Is that entity even real? Is anything real with you?”

Manny frowned as you felt like you wanted to start bawling. This was all becoming too much for you to handle and you’ve been holding on for so long.

“Hey now,” Manny crouched beside you as you held your face away from him, “of course it is. I don’t play with the dead…I usually dispose of ‘em—

“Oh fuck you!” You yelled getting to you feet, almost forgetting your injured toe as you crumpled to the carpet in front of the man you married, “this isn’t a joke anymore! This is my life and I’m not going to continue with you fucking it up!”

Cradling your foot, your toe began to bleed through the gauze. Breathing air through your teeth your eyes burned with tears as Manny moved around the room for the first aid kit. He sat on the edge of the couch, gripping your ankle to cater to your wound and you let him.

Laying back on the carpet, you bit down on your lip as tears slid down your cheeks with your arms folded.

“I did too much this time, huh?” Manny asked.

Huffing you nodded your head, “yeah…and I think I’m really done.”

He was just about to place a kiss on your ankle but your words stopped him.

“Whatchu say?”

Swallowing you looked up at him saying, “I want out. I want a divorce, Rio.”

The way you said his nickname with such venom on your tongue did not sit right with him. At all so he was on you then, catching you off guard as your breath got caught in your lungs. He was hovering over you now, hands on either side of the face as he peered down at you with those dark eyes.

“Are you threatening me right now, isla? At a time like this?” He trailed his nose along your cheek, making you turn your head away from him as he spoke into your ear, “you and I both know you’re not going nowhere. We love each other too much and we took vows to each other which means something in my book. I’ll be damned if I let this ruin us.”

He still didn’t get it.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Manny pulled away from you, rubbing at his mouth as the ceiling above you rattled, “we got bigger problems right now.”

His eyes were at the monitor as he helped you up.

“W-what now?” You cleared your throat.

Manny could see Max starting to wake up on one of the monitors, which was not a good thing—for him. Moving closer, Manny stared hard at each screen with you standing behind him in utter confusion.

He lifted his head in that moment, tilting it to the side as he placed a finger to his lips. He suddenly moved away from you, staring out into the hallway as the sound of creaking followed.

“Man—

“We gotta go, now!”

“Go where?! I thought here was safe.”

“We gotta go lower, mama. Right now! There’s a elevator in the back of the room. We better get on that or else.” Manny ordered, quickly moving around as he snatched up the walkie and moved over to the wall to send the weapon station down below.

“Or else, what?!”

He came back to you as your heart began to race. Manny pecked your lips, gripping the sides of your neck, “that bitch is gonna flood this area up. She’ll drown us and contrary to your belief, I care about your well-being a ton, even if you don’t think I go about it right. Your ass is mine and I’m forever yours so unless you want to see a reenactment of the titanic…we gotta get the hell up outta here, you understand?”

“Isla?” Manny quizzed.

You held his stare before you slipped your hands in his again. This time Manny allowed you to lead the way to the gated elevator, his gaze elsewhere as water ran down the opposite hallway. It was your turn to yank the lanky man beside you, hands sliding the gate shut after him. Manny was mashing on the buttons, the old elevator suddenly dropping as waves of water began to flood the room you were just in.

Some water splashed into the elevator, the amount was like someone flicking water at you in the pool. Your eyes closed, thinking this was the end but found yourselves descending just in time, to someplace else with a man you thought you knew.

⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣ ೋ ⍣

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here

#rio x black!reader #good girls nbc #good girls netflix #manny montana #mayans mc fx #mayans mc s4 #mayans mc x reader #manny mayans x reader #in the dark cw #max parish #max parish x reader #casey deidrick #october prompts #spooky prompts

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years ago

Text

From Blood, Love and Courage - An Angel Reyes/Original Character Story.

So I almost never, ever do this, being as I’m only part way through writing the second chapter, but I just want to test the waters with my audience. I’m feeling unconfident with it, and being that it’s such a battle for A - visibility within tumblr and B - getting more than a handful of people to react with anything other than a like, I thought I’d see if this was worth me actually spending my time writing. So, if you do enjoy it, please do comment and reblog. If it only garners minimal interest, I shan’t continue with it. Sad, but it truly has come to that for a lot of us. Us authors are like plants, water us and we grow. Deny us, and we wither up. I really, really hope it’s a hit!

Words - 4,625

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - Mentions of rape and the associated trauma of such to come in future chapters. While I do not plan on detailing these overtly graphically, if the subject is a trigger for you, you’d be best not to begin reading this. 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

The sound of a lone berimbau opening, preceding the scream of guitars filled the air, a few whistles and shouts going up from various members of the crowd. Being a long-time fan of Sepultura, Angel knew exactly what song was currently filtering through the speakers of the venue. Attitude. A strong choice of entrance music for whomever the fighter was making his way to the octagon, although he had no clue over their identity.

The first two participants in the MMA night he was currently spectating at had been kept a secret, although many in the audience whom were obviously aware of the fighter whose entrance music preceded them cheered their arrival, Angel surprised when behind two big fellas walking down the aisle, emerged a woman.

“God damnit, Coco! You didn’t tell me this was gonna be some foxy boxing night, man?” he complained, eyes swivelling onto his cohort.

Coco shrugged, sipping his beer. “Secret billing! I didn’t have a clue either, homes. Anyway, you can’t tell me that shit’s not hot, watching two girls' brawl.” Angel remained silent, his mouth down turning as he thought on that statement, eyebrows rising a little. “Come on! As if you need to contemplate it!”

“It’s hot when they’re brawling over me.”

His words were met with a snort of laughter, Coco bouncing on his heels with amusement, his eyes widening. “And when’s the last time that happened for you, huh? You ain’t exactly swimming in pussy over there, are you? Thinking you’re some Cassanova daddy, pfft.”

Angel narrowed his eyes, unamused as his friends’ observation into the vacancy of his bed. “Fuck you.”

Coco laughed with mirth, both of them turning their attention to the octagon before them. The announcer had called out the name of the girl fighter, but in his haste to chastise Coco, Angel hadn’t been paying attention. What he did take notice of was the fact that she was hot. Tall, about five seven or thereabouts, a mix of soft curves and lithe muscles, a full sleeve of tattoos reaching her hand on one arm, long, braided black hair, blue eyes and a ridiculously voluminous pout.

“Bro, she could suck a ping pong ball through a juice box straw with those lips. Am I right?”

Angel choked on his beer, turning to bump fists with Coco. “Right, man. Although, I ain’t sure I’d want her to. Look at that shit, man. That girl is raging,” he began, watching her stalking around the ring, her jaw set, looking like she meant some serious business. “She prowls, like a tiger. She looks mean.”

And she did. Because she was. She side stepped around the octagon at a steady jog while waiting for her opponent, the announcer lifting the microphone to his mouth. It was the usual fanfare, the guys talking between themselves, their ears really pricking up when the announcer called out the name Johhny Boswell.

“What?”

That word was delivered by both Mayan’s at exactly the same time.

“No way! She’s fighting a dude?” Angel cried, his head swivelling around to take a look at the guy walking out, his chest stiffening with the immediate discomfort of the idea. “Is that even legal?”

“Amateur circuit, man. The UFC don’t hold shit over ‘em, so they ain’t got no governing body to answer to,” Coco began, who was a wealth more of knowledge on the sport than Angel. “Likely why it was a secret billing though, bro, save any controversy ahead of the match.”

“I mean, I don’t wanna sound like a raging chauvinist or nothing, but that’s not right, is it?”

Coco shrugged. “These bitches are tough as shit, man.” Gesturing with his beer bottle, he pointed right at the girl, hopping from one foot to the other in her corner, hyped and amped up. “I guess we’re about to find out, though.”

The ref took his place, the fighters touching mitts before the bell sounded, words of encouragement being called from their coaches as they began to circle one another. What happened swiftly afterwards, not one single person in the venue was prepared for, least of all Johnny Boswell. The girl ducked a punch, landing three in succession to his ribcage, her fists meeting bone like lightning. He landed a kick to her side, the only strike he’d make, trying his luck for another. She was too fast though, catching his leg and hauling him by his thigh, throwing him straight to the canvas, on him like a boa constrictor seizing its prey. The noise of his body hitting the deck was deafening from the power of her takedown, Angel and Coco wincing.

Her legs wrapped his chest, thighs squeezing, wrenching his arm under hers and driving her fist against his skull with multiple blows. She was, to put it simply, absolutely savage.

“Holy fucking shit!” Coco yelled, his jaw on the floor, Angel in much the same state, the ref intervening before making a motion with his hands, the bell being rung again. Johnny was out cold.

“Our winner, ladies and gentleman. Lily Armstrong!” Her hand was held aloft, Lily looking as proud as one could through a mouthful of tooth guard, her coach offering her a hug before she exited the octagon, once again to the roar of Sepultura, the entire venue erupted into cheers, pretty much every single person in there in a state of shock.

She removed her mitts with her coaches assistance, taking out her guard from her mouth and sipping back some water, circling her neck a few times as she began to walk, the air of menace radiating from her, her eyes suddenly snapping onto Angel as he gaped at her in a mixture of disbelief and ‘shit, that chick’s so damned hot’ as she approached.

“What the fuck do you think you’re looking at, bro?” she barked while passing, Angel and Coco’s heads spinning to each other, looks of surprised disbelief on their faces as they began to laugh.

“Oh, she’s sparky, dude!”

“Yeah. Fuck, I thought she was gonna jump in and swing at me, man. Jesus!” Angel guffawed. “She’s a fucking lotta something else!”

“Right? Damn, bitch be walking out to the right song. Attitude in shades.”

Angel’s nod conveyed his agreement, finishing his beer and heading to the bar to fetch a couple more, sadly of the non-alcoholic variety as they were riding. All around him, people spoke with disbelief about Lily and her impeccable takedown, the savagery of her knockout, the fact that a girl had so easily given a man a whooping. It gave him pause for thought, though, suddenly feeling a little guilty for initially doubting her based on her gender when clearly, she was the better fighter of the two. She just so happened to have tits, which really should have neither been here nor there.

He knew one thing clearly; he’d hate to get on the wrong side of her, and he was man enough to admit that, too.

Getting on the right side of her, though? Well... if he happened to see her around after, hmm. She might have chewed him out for staring at her, but Angel Reyes was not one to concede easy defeat. Throughout the next few matches, another four in total, he kept his eye out for her, wondering if she’d come back out to spectate, his searching not going unnoticed.

“You’re looking for the machine, aren’t you?”

The machine. How accurate a description of the girl fighter with a serious mean streak.

“And what of it?”

Coco grinned, shaking his head. “Damnit, Angel. You thrive on danger pussy! Whether it’s a girl you know you shouldn’t be fucking, or in this case, one who’d probably snap your junk in two, you’re like a bug at a porch light with those chicks!” He made a flapping motion with his hands, cracking up before turning his attention back to the ring. “Come on, man! Slug him!”

“Well, I don’t see her, so I guess that particular porch light just got turned off.” With the last match coming to an end after two rounds, people didn’t waste time filing out of the small venue, Coco and Angel heading back over to their bikes, the latter doing a double take when he noticed exactly who he’d previously been searching for across the parking lot, leaning back against a street lamp.

“Ahhh, porch light came back on,” Coco observed, nodding in her direction, his mouth upturning as Angel looked across at her. “Now, what I gotta do tomorrow? Laundry, go pick up a bag of weed, make a little splint for my buddy’s broken pecker, couple of toothpicks should do it.”

“I will fucking plant you into the goddamned asphalt, man!” Angel exclaimed quietly, shaking his head as Coco put his helmet on.

“Godspeed, homes. If she breaks you, don’t say I didn’t warn you. See ya.”

“Yeah, later.” As Coco rode out, Angel lit a cigarette and casually walked over to Lily, who was lost in reading something on her phone. The closer he neared, the more he really did see how stunning she was. Her hair had a gentle wave to it now she’d removed the two French braids holding it all back while she’d fought, her muscles shapely without being too bulky, her tattoos of incredible quality and her face. God, her face. She was so pretty.

“You,” he spoke, Lily turning to view him, looking a little puzzled.

“Excuse me?”

“When you asked me what the fuck I thought I was looking at. I was looking at you.”

She closed her eyes for a second, surprisingly looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah, my apologies. I tend to be a little amped up before and after a fight. I go to another place.”

Angel snorted softly. “Where? Seventh circle of hell?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, turning toward him. Oh, well then. What did she have here? He was certainly a lot more attractive than she’d noticed in her adrenaline spiked state. If she was a sucker for anything in a man, it was a tall guy with dark hair and well-built physique. The biker standing before her certainly ticked those boxes. “I think that’s fairly accurate. Lily, and you are?”

Taking the hand she offered forth, he shook it. “Angel.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Why do I get the sneaking suspicion you’re anything but?”

He dropped his chin a little, laughing softly. “The kutte kinda gives it away.”

“Oh, you could be standing here butt naked and I’d still think you were trouble.”

“Trouble you could no doubt handle,” he offered, drawing on his cigarette. “Well done tonight, by the way. I don’t know much about MMA, but shit, you handed that guy’s ass to him.”

“Yeah, I did,” she spoke with pride, smiling triumphantly.

“How’d you learn to fight like that?”

“A hell of a lot of building upon natural talent,” she began, slipping her phone back into her pocket, content to give the handsome biker her full attention. “I was a scrapper as a kid.”

Angel nodded knowingly. He’d been much the same in his youth. “I bet you gave your folks a hard time with that, huh?”

Her lips tightened, her head tilting a little to the right. “No folks to speak of. Growing up in the hell that was endless foster families and group homes is why I learned to fight well. You have to when trying to survive in an environment with other damaged kids, too.”

He raised his eyebrows, flicking his finished cigarette away. “Shit, sorry to hear you had to go through that. What happened to your mom and dad, if that ain’t too personal a question?”

Usually, Lily would have likely told someone she’d only just met to mind their business, but with Angel, she felt quite at ease with revealing it, for some reason, like he wouldn’t judge. “My dad, I have no idea about, and my mom died when I was four. Heroin.”

“Fuck,” he exclaimed softly, his brows rising. “Again, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m not. She was a worthless junkie who used throughout her entire pregnancy and neglected me for the entirety of our short time together, until I found her dead on the lounge floor. She wasn’t a mother, merely a vessel who grew me, and she couldn’t even do that properly. At least something good came from it, though. My anger at her being such a lousy mother fuels me before I step foot into the octagon. I like to think of it as both motivation to win and therapy, too. Catharsis, if you will, albeit perhaps a little unhealthy.” She paused, her eyes taking him in a little better, Angel’s mouth twitching into a lopsided grin when he realised she was checking him out. “So, what do your parents think about you being an outlaw?”

“Mom was always a little worried about it, that’s how most moms are, though. My pop saw it coming, I think. He’s alright with it. I was never the golden child, like my brother,” he shrugged. “Hey, do you wanna go get a drink or something?” he then offered, gesturing to the bar just down the street on the opposite side.

She turned to view where he’d pointed, looking back at him with a smile. “Depends on what the ‘or something’ is.”

He chuckled, liking her playfulness. “The ‘or something’ can come after the drink, if you want?”

Licking her lip, she sent a spark of fire through him, Angel remembering Coco’s lascivious comment about the juice box straw and ping pong ball. It did nothing to quell that burn when he once again noticed the way she stared at him so appreciatively. “Alright, Angel. Let’s go.” Lily usually had a good measure of people upon meeting them, and from Angel, she liked what she sensed, even if he only ended up as a one-night stand. It was very clear, the signals that they were sending to one another, that they definitely intended a bed to become involved at some point during the course of the evening.

Pleasingly, she also noted that just before they were about to cross the street, he placed his hand in a soft touch against her lower back. It was gentlemanly. It was nice. People often forgot that beneath the powerhouse fighter, she was still a woman, one who liked to be treated with a little courtesy. He showed that even more by quickening his step to open the bar door for her with a smile. God, he was hot.

“What are you drinking?”

“Vodka rocks, please?”

“Any particular brand?”

“Anything is fine with me. If there’s a difference between the twenty dollar a bottle stuff and Grey Goose, it takes a much more refined palette than mine to notice,” she smiled, Angel nodding at the bartender to attract his attention.

“Large vodka rocks and a Coke, please.”

Lily looked on at him curiously. “Not drinking?”

“Nah, I’ve reached my alcohol limit. Besides, I’m by nature much more responsible when I know I’ll have someone else on the back of my bike.”

She liked that, how confident he was without being too cocky. “You’re very sure of yourself.”

He snorted softly, paying for the drinks and sliding hers toward her. “And you ain’t exactly discreet with checking out my junk.”

Oh, so he had noticed her eyes flitting downwards a few times, Lily blushing a little. “Well, you do fill out those Levi’s well.”

“Easy, girl.”

She was in soft fits at that. “What? I like to appreciate what I intend to put in my mouth at some point in the near future.”

For the second time that night, he choked on a drink due to a reference about her lips and his dick. Damn, that brazenness. “Oh, you need to calm it down, or imma drag you off into a darkened corner and have my way with you. I’d like to actually get to know you a little before that happens.”

Her laugh was loud, pulling a chair back and sitting down, shaking her head a little. “Okay, I’ll be good.”

He winked, sending her stomach into a perpetual flip. “Not too good.”

They calmed down their playfulness enough to sit there and talk, learning of each other’s lives, their interests – of which they had a few in common – and their dislikes, some of which were not met well by the other.

“What in the hell is your issue with Judas Priest?”

“Rob Halford sounds like he’s having his nuts trodden on by an elephant!”

Angel was aghast. “You,” he began, waving a finger at her from across the table. “You’ll take that back, missy.”

“I shan’t! I’m perpetually tortured by it all fucking evening long! That and REO Speedwagon. My neighbour likes everyone else on the block to listen to his awful music, too.”

“Okay, the Speedwagon part I get, because they’re fucking dire, but damn, how anyone can hate Judas Priest is beyond me. They’re classic!”

“Showing your age,” she teased.

“Hey, fuck you, Lily! I’m thirty-two!”

Her giggle. Oh, it was the sweetest music. “And you?”

“Just turned thirty a month ago.”

“Wow, I thought you were like, twenty-three or something,” he exclaimed, Lily certain he was just being charming, although she was confident that she looked good for her age. “So, Lily, aged thirty, originally from San Diego, whose five favourite bands are Sepultura, Linkin Park, Meshuggah, Wu Tang Clan and Cypress Hill – great choices, by the way – and doesn’t appreciate the classics, how long have you been doing the MMA thing for?”

“About five years now,” she began, sipping her drink. “Before then, I was into Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, started with a friend of mine just as a form of exercise, because I’m by nature quite lazy other than loving to walk almost everywhere I need to go, which is handy with my piece of shit car. But yeah, so Angie and I began doing that, she didn’t like it so quit, I stayed on and then started kickboxing too, which is how Larry, my coach discovered me.”

“I take it he was one of the big fellas who walked you out tonight?”

“Right,” she confirmed. “He was the white guy. The Latino dude is Ernesto, Angie’s husband, who also coaches me from time to time when Larry isn’t available.”

“And do you wanna go pro with it, or is it just a hobby?” he then asked.

“Ideally pro, but it’s really fucking tough to crack the pro-circuit. The last time my gym had a scout out, they overlooked me in favour of another girl, which I can take on the chin, you know, she was better than me. My fight tonight, though, well, Larry said it’d get tongues wagging, get people talking about me, the girl who took on a guy, even though in the same weight category, and knocked him out thirty-three seconds into the first round.

“Sure, some might think it a little unorthodox when you take gender into consideration, as it’s still quite taboo, the whole dynamic of men vs women competing against one another, but he’s of the opinion any publicity is good. I guess he was right, too, since I did a little networking after my fight, and I got approached by Bulldog Gear, who make martial arts apparel. They offered me the best thing going, sponsorship!”

He smiled widely all the way through hearing her speak of her sport, Angel loving her passion, her excitement for it. After such a rough start in life, she deserved it, he thought, something to excel at, a world to be embraced by, people to tell her she was good, that she was worthy.

“No shit, that’s great!” he enthused, pointing to the bar. “You want another?”

“Let me get the next round?” she offered, Angel shaking his head.

“Nah, it’s on me. You deserve it, you won your fight and you got a sponsor. Time to celebrate.” He squeezed her shoulder as he passed her, Lily smiling, fizzing inside a little. He was, by the definition of her mental checklist, everything she looked for in a guy. He seemed really nice, articulate, he was very good looking, well-built, tall, tattooed, and he rode a big motorcycle. It was a little worrying that he was an outlaw, but she could decide later if she could handle that or not.

‘Girl, cool your jets. You know he’s only being nice to you to get in your underwear.’ It was a toxic trait of hers, and she acknowledged it, to have issues with seeing herself as more than temporary in the lives of any new people who she met. A defence mechanism typical of an abandoned child, one might say.

One might be very correct.

While he was at the bar, Angel received a text from Coco, opening it up to see a picture of a few toothpicks crudely strapped together with masking tape.

‘Did she break you yet? It’s here if you need it, homie!’

“Fuck you, Johnny.” he snorted, sending a middle finger emoji and putting his cell away, turning back to glance at Lily. God, she was so cute, and what a fucking nice girl, too. The lovely young woman he was enjoying the company of was a million miles away from the utter tiger he’d watched stalk the octagon before taking her contender down with such staggering, albeit brutal, finesse. He enjoyed that kind of duality in a woman, having so seldom found it before.

“So - and I know you can’t tell me in any kind of detail – what was it about the MC that attracted you?” she asked when he arrived back at the table, thanking him for the drink.

“Outlaw is all I’ve ever done well,” he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. The action made his bicep flex, Lily’s eyes nearly falling out of her skull and into her drink. “I think I’d pretty much suck at a nine to five set up. So, what do you do other than the MMA? I take it you have a regular job as well?”

“Yeah, I’ve had all kinds over the years, but I work at Rebel Coffee across the street from my gym at present. It’s handy, since I spend up to three hours a day training, longer if I have a fight coming up. I’ll usually put in a couple of hours prior to work too then as well. Luckily for me, the gym is open all hours, so I can grab a quick session whenever, even if I don’t have someone there to do pad work with me. I wish my apartment was big enough to fit a punch bag, I’d love that,” she spoke, smiling a little wistfully. Most of her lounge space was taken up by the huge cage her beloved Cockatoo, Charlie lived in.

“You live and breathe it, don’t you?” he noted, sipping his drink, catching an ice cube between his back teeth and chomping on it.

“Quod me nutrit me destruit,” she spoke, Angel raising an eyebrow.

“Which is Latin for?”

“That which nourishes me, destroys me. I expect I have a tidy bruise forming, I dunno. You’ll be able to see better than me.” Lifting the side of her white top up, she glanced around, Angel craning to take a look.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed, her skin already turning an aggressive shade of purple. “Yeah, you got a big assed bruise coming up there, babe.”

Her tummy flipped again at hearing him call her babe. “I expected as much. I should buy shares in a company that makes arnica cream, the amount I go through!”

“What does that do?”

“Expedites healing, brings the bruising out more,” she confirmed, adjusting her top again. “Why are you grinning like that?”

Shit. Busted. “No reason.”

“No, go on,” she urged, Angel wiping a hand down his face as he leaned back in his seat. “You’re wearing a red bra, and I got a real thing for chicks in red underwear. Ignore me, I’ll calm down. Eventually.”

He winked again, Lily having to plant her feet in order to stop herself from surging across the table at him in sexual longing. “What if I don’t want you to?”

“Then the dark corner is looking more appealing by the second,” he began, rising from his seat. “I’m going for a smoke, try and calm myself down a little. Damn you. And your red undies. You ain’t fair on my male hormones.”

She could have done with a smoke herself, although she was currently trying to quit and had already smoked her daily ration of four, so waited instead, sipping her drink, feeling like she was effervescing inside. Once he’d returned, they continued their conversation, neither noticing that by the time the bar closed, they were the only two people left within it, save for a drunk guy asleep at the bar whom the owner of the establishment had to rouse via a repeated poking in the thigh with a broom.

The street was relatively quiet outside, the tinkling of glass bottles rolling along the ground in the distance, a cat meowing, a car crossing over the junction to their right, a woman shouting her vexation at someone within her residence for not turning the bathroom light off. Not another soul was around as they crossed the road and headed down the small embankment back into the venue parking lot, Angel suddenly taking her hand and halting her.

“So, call it cliched, whatever, but...” he paused, taking her face in his hands and leaning to kiss her. God, her lips. He almost couldn’t pull away to continue. “My place or yours, tough girl?”

“I’m over in Holtville, how about you?”

Holtville was over thirty minutes away from their current location. Nope.

“Santo Padre. So my place, yeah?”

Fifteen minutes. That was much preferable. Her nod confirmed it.

She reached for him, guiding his face to her level, kissing him again, a kiss that deepened in an instant, their tongues softly swirling, Lily draping her arms around his neck, Angel’s winding around her waist, caging her body to his with a soft squeeze. God damnit, how the girl could kiss, Angel feeling that alluring tug deep in his loins, his hands slipping to her butt and grasping the well-rounded cheeks. One kiss, and he was hooked. She had him.

As for Lily, well, if she’d have taken off her undies and thrown them at a wall in that moment, they’d have stuck to it. Very, very few men had made her ache with arousal just from a kiss, but Angel? One kiss, and she was wet for him. Oh, mother Mary. If he could make her feel like that just from kissing her, what the hell was he capable of conjuring with the rest of himself?

The way he kissed her had her blazing, the feel of him, the smell of him, the sheer size of the man wrapping her in an embrace of pure muscle, Lily imagining that weight atop her. The thought almost made her knees buckle.

“How the fuck am I meant to ride a motorcycle in a straight fucking line after that? Damn, girl,” he exclaimed, once they finally broke for air.

She smiled, a sultry tilt of her sumptuous lips, reaching forward, letting her fingernails trail over the bulge in his jeans that she’d had trouble keeping her eyes away from. “Just you wait until I kiss you there.”

Angel Reyes had never cum in his pants before, but in that moment, he was dangerously close to doing so.

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 3 years ago

Text

The Reaper and the Death Angel Part 26

This chapter is going to be very violent and very smutty, I've been foreshadowing that the OC/reader is similar to Happy so get ready. You will still be able to skip any violence and it won't change the plot if you chose not to read the section, it will be marked with X as normal. As for the smut, it's going to be super fluffy and intense.

Series Masterlist

Part 25

Contains: The integration, torture and death of Nazis. Sam being a good little brother, fluff, uber possessive Jax, smut (oral sex M and F receiving, fingering, praise kink, P in V, Dom/sub dynamics, Dom!Jax, sub!reader, subspace, aftercare.) Follows the plot of 2x02 loosely.

5.1K Words

Comment if you want to be tagged.

Jax has lessons to learn

"People are trying to break in, wait twenty minutes then bring Jax, Clay and Tig. I want to have some fun first."

With one last button press, the men got the door open so they walked in and it started. The door slammed behind them, lights began flashing violently while the speakers blared heavy metal.

They looked at each other confused, a sudden electric voice blasting overhead.

"You are trespassing on private property, leave now or the owner will exercise their rights." The larger man with Norse tattoos all over his arms waved the smaller man around the corner.

"This is your last warning, leave now or the owner will exercise their rights."

They both looked back at the door, then the music got louder, changing to something filled with chanting. You watched for the basement, the inside cameras being triggered but the break-in. You could see the change in them as they ran to get out.

"What about Weston?"

The short man sounded terrified, "we'll tell him we couldn't get inside." But when they went to open the door, it wouldn't budge, "fuck fuck, what have we gotten ourselves into."

"Check all the exists, we have to get out of here before the cops come, she must be hauled up in a panic room." How wrong they were.

As they went to the exists, each one was the same, it wouldn't open. The flashing lights and loud music were slowly leading them downstairs, with everything getting softer and less offensive.

When they got to the basement door, they could see the gentle yellow light escaping under the gap. The larger man put a single finger to his lips and opened the door slowly. The moment they left the stairs, the lights turned off and you came out from behind your hiding place, gas mask on your face.

The last thing they knew before they lost consciousness was the smell of the flowery gas coming out of the Anvil branded canister.

"We're on our way now, you good with that?" Sam's text came through just as you were stringing the men up, having taken anything that could trace back to your home and called the cleaning crew at Anvil to deal with their car, you were ready to start.

"Yep, I've invited Happy too, he should have some fun."

Sam put the phone down and put on a worried face, running over to Jax and Clay, "y/n said someone's broken in, and that she needs us there."

The colour drained from Jax's face, "is she ok?"

Sam nodded, "she's fine, she was just very clear that she only wanted the four of us there."

Clay went up to the other guys, "somethings come up with y/n, the rest of you need to go to the meeting with the Mayans and the Niners, we'll keep you updated.

They got to the house as fast as they could, when they pulled up, Billy and Derek were pulling the pickup into a semi-truck. Jax went up to them, worried sick, "what in the fuck in going on?"

Billy said nothing, Derek's voice was harsh "I just got here for Oakland, y/n is in the basement, we need to deal with this mess." Up until this point, Jax had never had any of your friends be so short with him.

When they got to the basement door, Sam stopped Jax in his tracks, "You need to be ready for what you're about to see in there because that darkness I told you about, is about to hit you in the face. If you can't handle seeing this side of her I'd leave now before you get yourself somewhere you don't want to be."

Jax dismissed it, "I know your sister Sam, I ready for what's down there."

Sam almost snarled at him, "spoken like a true civilian." They could hear Happy talking to you as they walked down the stairs.

"Gentlemen, please leave all phones in the box by the staris. I hope you don't mind but I invited Happy because I might need some help." They were greeted by the two men strung up with thick metal chains around their wrists. They were gagged and one had a cotton spit mask over his face.

Clay blinked, trying to take in the scene. Jax, for his part, didn't know what to do. "please sit on the provided chairs. We have some things to learn and I intend to get as much information as possible out of these men. If you stay you will see them die so this is your last chance to leave before things become serious." You looked over at Jax, trying to see wavering in his face.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"No? Great." You walked over to the barely awake men cutting their clothing off till they were naked and then threw buckets of ice water at them. They shot awake, the larger man screaming threw his gag.

"Shut up or I'll cut your vocal cords, you're not going to be the one doing the talking today." This wasn't just because you found his appropriation of Viking culture offensive, it was because he was one of the men who attacked Gemma and you couldn't risk him talking.

"These men in front of us are Ivar White, original name James Hobbins and Eric Smith. James here likes Viking culture as you can tell by his tattoos, this will be important later." You went over to the bag that Eric was carrying with him and went through it.

"Duck tape, a knife and condoms. Let's not go over what you were going to do with them." Jax was shaking with rage, "calm down dear, they're going to be dealt with."

You weren't paying any attention to your friends, rather, everything you said was to the two men chained up.

You turned to Eric, acting like the other man wasn't there, "this is how it's going to go. I'm going to ask you a question, you should know I know a lot more than you think I do, and if you get it wrong, I'm going to hurt your friend." You gestured to the tray of tools at your side and Happy leaned in with a nasty smile.

"You both going to die tonight, but you get to decide if it's easy or hard. If you don't comply, I will blood eagle your friend then do everything I did to him, to you." You picked up one of the large knives on the tray, "for my friends in the back, a blood eagle is a method of execution used by Viking warriors to kill their enemies."

You walked up to the man spinning him around so they could see his back, "when someone is blood eagled their back is cut open, their ribs are severed from the spine with a sharp tool, and their lungs pulled through the opening. The change in pressure from their chest cavity causes their lungs to flutter like the wings of an eagle, hence the name."

Their faces went pale, "I'm really hoping you didn't name yourself after Ivar the Boneless, he was a gifted taction and brave warrior, he would be turning in his grave at the thought of you. No matter, the only way to get to Valhalla during a blood eagle is not to make a sound, which I don't think you can manage."

You spun the man back around and went up to his friend, removing his gag under the spit mask, "who sent you?"

He glared at you, "fuck off slut."

You shook your head, "wrong answer, Ethan Zobelle sent you." You picked up a cattle prod and pressed it to the other man's chest, "why are you here?"

"I ain't telling you anything." The cattle prod drifted downwards and you turned it on and brushed it over his crotch. You weren't looking behind you at your friends, but Sam was watching Jax carefully.

"Try again." No response, "ok, it seems you need to learn that I mean business I'm going to have some fun and when I'm done, I'll ask you again. Until then, don't talk or he'll get it worse."

Jax had no idea what was happening, it was like you were a different person. He watched as you picked up a scalpel and then you started singing.

Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you will never return again.

You started cutting away one of his tattoos, occasionally stopping as his moaning seemed to annoy you.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

The darkness Sam warned him about was stirring at the surface so violently Jax could see it, like something was wearing your skin as a costume.

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

You took your time cutting out the tattoo, every now and then looking back at his friend.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold.

My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair

And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea

While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam.

When you got the tattoo off his body, you placed in on an empty tray. Going back to his body to find another tattoo to cut off. There was no sound other than your signing and the man's moans.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

"Do you wish to talk now?"

The man looked from his friend's bleeding body to yours, "what do you want to know?"

You smiled, it was gentle but there was something cruel behind it, "what was your message to me, if you were to be successful in your plan?"

The man looked down at the ground, his injured comrade was looking at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

"Tell your man to stop selling guns to colour, or we find you and do this again."

You smiled, "good man, now your friend gets to die a good death. However, I'm going to need more from you if you wish to do the same."

XXXXXXXX

For the next half an hour, you went between questioning the man and torturing his friend. You had called Happy over, pointing out nerve buddles and areas that hurt the most. Your attention never drifted to the men behind you. By the time it was over, they knew how many men Zobelle and Weston had, what their plans were and why there were here. There was no mention of Gemma but plenty of talk about Jacob Hale.

"Is that all you need to tell me?" The man nodded, his face wet with tears. "A good death for both of you it is, I'm not some pusillanimous coward, I'll look you in the eyes when you die." You glanced back at Tig, who was pale.

You killed the Viking first, lifting his chin with one hand to meet your eyes before plunging a knife into his chest. The other man looked at the ground again and you went up to him, running the flat of the bloody knife over his cheek.

"There's that look, when a man knows he's about to die. It's a shame you look so frightened, you talked about being a warrior and you're shaking like a leaf."

This time, you lifted his chin with the blade of the knife. You tilted your head, looking at the man as if he was a set of human remains, "I'll make sure your loved ones find closure." And then you jammed the knife through his lower jaw and into his brain.

You didn't look back at your friends but waved at Happy to help you take them down. When it was done, Billy, Derek and, to Jax's surprise, Travis came down to deal with the bodies.

When you finally looked back at them, Clay and Tig were frozen to the spot, Sam looked unfazed and Jax was unreadable. "I think after everything, you know now that you can't retaliate against Zobelle without more information." At their lack of response, you rolled your eyes, "for fucks sake, typical civilians, things get a little bloody and you all go to water."

"Everyone other than Sam can go, it's clear you're all weak as piss." When they didn't move, you finally let loose, "well, are you confused about why we're all here? Let's go over it; Months ago, all but three of you wanted out of the illegal arms trade, then ATF came and you two got Donna killed." Tig looked around like a trapped animal, "because let's be honest with ourselves, had everyone else had their way, some Nazi wouldn't have shot Donna in the head by mistake."

You shook your head, "I gave you the option to leave before this started and you didn't take it, what you saw after that is your own fault. Welcome to the real world good sirs." Jax looked around the room, trying to figure out what to do, you did warn him that you weren't a saint.

"What the fuck did you do over there?"

You smiled again, it held the same nastiness, "whatever was asked of me Tiggy, it's not like Sammy hasn't done the same thing."

*****

They collected their phones and went upstairs but didn't leave while you got rid of the evidence. Tig sat down with his head in his hands and turned to Sam, "for fucks sake, that woman is hardcore."

Jax rubbed his eyes, "is she ok?"

Sam looked shocked, "why the fuck do you care? You look like you can't even keep your dinner down."

Jax looked at your brother, "because she was almost attacked tonight. Your home was broken into and she just spent the last hour torturing two men and then she killed them."

Sam shrugged, "ask her yourself, that is, if you an stand to be in the same room as her."

That hurt, but Jax could see why he said it. He was trying to protect you from being left because Jax couldn't handle you. That wasn't the case, if anything, Jax loved you more. You had revealed the nastiest parts of yourself to him and yet you still kill the men with honour "A good death it is, I'm not some pusillanimous coward, I'll look you in the eyes when you die." That was more than he could say for Tig.

A little while later, around one, you came out of the shower, shocked that they were all still there, "well shit, you didn't run. You're really a glutton for punishment, aren't you, Teller."

Jax stood up, walking over to you slowly before pulling you into a long, warm hug. "I'm so sorry you had to do that."

You were shocked, "this is about to be a gentle break-up?"

Jax hugged you tighter, "you warned me more than once what you were like. I'm not going anywhere."

You were vaguely aware of Clay talking on the phone, "this sappy love fest can wait, Bobby's been shot at the meet."

****

You rode to the Clubhouse by yourself, Jax stuck close by the car the whole time. When you got out at the compound, Chibs came running up to you, his gloved hands wet with blood.

"How bad is it?"

Chibs didn't seem worried, "I don't think it's deep." You ran inside, not sparing Jax a glance but he still followed you.

You sat your kit down and cleaned up, talking to Bobby as you did. Gemma was standing close by, she looked upset and tired. As you prepped Bobby, Jax went up to him, "you ok bro?"

Bobby nodded, "I'm in good hands." Jax looked over at you, you hadn't met his eyes since he walked into your basement.

Jax watched you clean Bobby up, once you were finished and everyone was going into the chapel, he pulled you aside.

"I've called your work and gotten you the next two days off and Billy offered the cabin up the street from Piney. I think we should spend the next fours days there and come back fresh on Monday."

Your pause made Jax continue, "tonight has changed nothing. You've told me a million times you do what needs to be done and I don't think I saw what you really meant until tonight. I love you y/n, even the parts of you that you don't like." Jax watched you carefully,

"So you don't find me detestable?"

Jax was heartbroken, "Never." You turned your head away from him and blinked back tears, Jax grabbed your chin softly, pulling your head back towards him and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, "I'll deal with this then we can go home to pack. Abel can stay with Gemma. Ok?"

You nodded and he left you, Sam was standing off to the side, before he went into the chapel, he leaned in close, "I told you so, y/n. You don't give people enough credit."

****

You went home when the last man walked into the chapel, starting to pack the moment you go in the door. You could tell that Tig was worried you knew about Donna but after that display, there was no way he would try anything.

Clay knew where he stood, he had met people like you in Nam. There was no way he was going to try and get rid of you, he knew full well you would have planned for that. No, he would have to find a way to get you on his side, he was smart enough to know he had no other options.

Jax got home early morning, while the moon was still in the sky, "you ready to go Darlin?"

You nodded, "yeah, I packed for both of us." You handed him the duffle bags of clothes and walked out the door together.

****

Jax drove, insisting that you must be tired. It was coming up to dawn when you pulled up at the cabin, it was larger than Piney's but more into the woods.

"I think we should get a few hours sleep then we can have the next four days to ourselves?"

You nodded, "I'm not really that tired but a nap would be nice." Jax smiled softly, "sure, I'd like that."

The inside of the cabin was simple, as you walked in, you keyed in your code and armed the alarm and Jax took your bags to the main bedroom and put everything away while you ordered groceries to arrive later that day.

"This place is really fancy."

Jax was looking out the main bedroom window at the hot tub in the courtyard, "yeah we use it from woods training but it's good for a break. Frank's going to bring Maria and the kids here for her birthday this year."

He shot you his trademark smirk, "can we use the hot tub?"

You shook your head, "not for what you're thinking, I don't want to explain to everyone else why we had to drain it." You walked by the window and closed the shutters, "sleep?" Jax nodded, and you both settled in for a nice long nap.

****

Ding dong

You tapped Jax on the chest and rubbed your eyes, "food's here." You climbed out of bed, Jax's eyes on your ass as you went. He heard you thank the delivery man, no doubt giving him a large tip and then opening and closing the cupboards before you came back into the bedroom.

"Hey."

Jax reached his arm out, pulling you back into bed, "hey." You laid in this arms, resting your head on his chest over his heart. "Do you think that guy told you everything about Zobelle?"

You shook your head, "no, he only told me everything he knew. There's a lot more to his plan, hence why I told you not to act but Clay will do what he wants."

Jax rubbed his hands over your arm, "we're going to use the empty gun warehouse for a new porn business with Luanne. Clay isn't happy but the other guys are sold."

You felt relief, maybe this was a sign of good things to come, "that's great news, I'm sure Otto will be thrilled. I can ask Anvil to set up their security."

Jax smiled, and as he pressed his nose into your hair, the air changed. Jax's lips pressed against your temple, then moved to your cheek, one of his hands at the other side of your face to keep you still.

"You are the most wonderful human I have ever met."

The statement took you aback, but Jax stopped you before you could rebut him, "I don't want to hear it, I wouldn't say it to you if I didn't mean it with all my heart and that's all that matters. If you disagree with me, we're going to have problems." The tone of his voice made it clear there was no point in arguing.

"Ok Jax, I believe you."

He didn't believe you for one minute, "no matter what you're about to say, I think I need to prove it to you." His hands cradled your neck lovingly, and he leaned in, rubbing your nose with his.

"Lay back. I hope you're well-rested because you won't be leaving this bed until there's not a doubt in your mind how much I love you." You went to protest but Jax pressed a firm kiss to your lips, "I don't want to hear it. If you keep this bullshit up, you'll won't like the results. I can't have anyone talking bad about my old lady, even if it's you."

You did as he asked, laying down and pulling him with you. Jax was looking down at you like he was trying to commit your every feature into his memory. His hands came up to brush a curl behind your ear, the same hand then brushing over your cheek. His lips touched you next, ghosting over your cheek then to your lips then down your neck.

"Your skin tastes like brown sugar." You went to explain but Jax kissed you again, "there's no need to tell me why." He took off your shirt, his fingertips drifting over your breast. You felt exposed under his gaze, the lack of talking was making it hard to concentrate on anything other than the way he was looking at you.

You reached a hand up to touch his face but he grabbed it before it could land, kissing your palm then each one of your knuckles before pressing barely there kisses to your fingertips.

"Jackson, you don't need to do this."

You felt a strange mix of adoration and discomfort. His face changed, standing up while grabbing your arm and pulling you along, "get on your knees." You did as he asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

"You're mine, understand?" Sure it had been said before, but not like this. Jax stepped back and removed his clothes, making sure to be close enough to touch you if he wanted. When he was naked, he stepped back into your space, one hand gripping his hard cock while the other was on the back of your head.

You tentatively placed both hands on his hips, looking at him for consent, "well, what are you waiting for?" You went right for it, sucking the head into your mouth like a lollypop. Jax groaned, his hand tightening in your hair, "that's it, just like that." It wasn't like he didn't sing your praises normally, he was very generous with the feedback but this was different, it was like he was letting you hear his every thought.

"God you could kill a man with that mouth."

"Fuck you're a good girl."

"I'm gonna get you on your knees for me every day."

Each grunt making his pained desperation clear, each whisper of praise making your skin feel hot

As his breathing got heavier and his balls tighter, he tapped on your cheek and you pulled away, "can I cum on your face?"

You were stunned for a moment, "whatever you want." You moved one hand off his hip, using the spit left on his skin to slick the up, down slide. Jax stuttered and you felt warmth spurt on your chin and lips.

You stood up, looking Jax in the eyes before you wiped your face with your hand and licked his cum off your fingers. Jax's gaze was almost angry "you think it's ok to tease me like that?" Your knees were against the edge of the bed so the gentle pressure he put on your shoulders had you falling onto the bed.

He was on top of you before you could catch your breath, his mouth practically devouring yours. There was a desperation in his movements, almost like he was trying to get at your insides, when he reached your panties, he tore them off you. "Another pair Jackson?"

He dismissed you with a bite to your shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll buy you more. I can't have my woman having anything but the best."

Jax had never been so possessive, it was like he had reverted back to being in a cave. He kissed down your body, sucking on your skin so you had a line of bruises down to your centre, you could feel his teeth making the occasional appearance. By the time he got to where you wanted him the most, you were soaked.

"Good girl, always so responsive." The soft kiss he pressed to your mound was disarming and as you settled in for what you thought would be his usually teasing, you were shocked as he went right for the kill, his lips sealing over your clit while he jammed his fingers inside you.

"Oh my God Jax." You could feel him smirk against your skin, it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before your back was arching off the bed and your legs were shaking around his head.

He didn't stop even as you tried to use the strength in your thighs to shove him away, "Jax please, it's too much."

His mouth paused for a moment, his fingers still moving inside you, "that wasn't a safeword."

Your breath was stuck between your chest and your throat, you had no idea how long he kept at you or how many times you came but the sheets were attached to your body with sweat. By the time he thought you were done, you couldn't form a thought.

He rose up, looming over you before grabbing his cock and pressing it gently to your entrance. You tried to move your hip in entice him but he pushed them down with brute force, "tell me you're mine and I'll let you have my cock."

You reached up desperately, hands landing on his face and pulling him towards you, "please." he kissed you hard, his teeth catching your lower lips.

"Not what I want to hear." He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your slit, making sure to rub over your clit with every pass.

"I'm yours. Please, I'm yours."

The slam of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs, he paused for a few seconds, waiting for your core to stop squeezing him so violently. The moment you caught your breath he was moving inside you, the sound of skin slapping filling the air.

It was a religious experience, he was going between grunting like an animal in your ear and whispering filth that would turn the devil green. You couldn't tell where one peak started and another one ended. As he reached his own end, he pulled out, twisting you onto all fours while he reared up on his knees.

Jax went from staring at the tattoo on your back to watching his cock disappear in and out of you. The way you gripped him was painfully pornographic, and he had to look away as you clenched around him.

"You're mine." His fingers were digging into your ass cheeks, "you're mine." He bent over, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "You're mine." One hand wound into your hair, craning your head so he could devour your mouth, "you're mine."

You could feel how close he was getting by how he was moving, his hips pushing into you like he was trying to rip you in two.

"I'm yours."

Jax's hand moved to your clit, rubbing with precise movements, "come one Darlin, give me one more." You were powerless to refuse, your chest collapsing onto the bed as he buried himself into you one last time.

"Jax please."

You felt him spray your insides with warmth, his hand gently rubbing your hip, "good girl." He pulled out, pressing kisses to your back, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his embrace.

You were vaguely aware of Jax talking to you, his deep voice barely cutting through the cotton in your brain. His lips were pressing your crow over and over again, from each wingtip to another. You had no idea how long you laid there trying to get your bearings, each time you felt like you were cresting the surface of consciousness, Jax would soothe your back down with gentle touches and sweet words.

You could finally feel your limps enough to turn around in his arms, his hand coming up to push a stray bit of hair off your face, "you back with me?"

You nodded, "yeah, I'm here." One of your hands rested over his heart, still pounding slightly, "I'm here."

He smiled, pulling your hand to his lips, "good, I wouldn't have you anywhere else."

You stayed in his arms until the urge to shower became unbearable, Jax following behind you with your hand in his.

"I meant what I said y/n. You're mine." You smiled, kissing him under the stream of hot water as he rubbed your shoulders.

"I did too, I'm yours."

Part 27

I've just nutted (puunnnnnnnns) out this and an essay in one day, all words look the same to me. I hope it's good because I can't tell.

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cosmicyeen · 3 years ago

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Ajsjdjd i recenrlt tracked down one of my favorite articles, and even though i first read it years ago i still think about and use the conclusions i drew from it to this day

https://www.wired.com/story/what-you-call-a-color-depends-on-how-you-use-it/

It's such a fascinating idea, that we value warm and cool differently. That the background, the frame of our world, the cool colors, is less described in color than the objects of our interest.

That we talk about colors that are more friendly to us, closer to our experience, something we even created, with more detail.

The natural earth that we walk upon, we do not as easily describe using a superficial cool color description and rather opt for function. Function over form, interwoven with how we see the world. A blanket we weave, a tool we create, we are more likely to ascribe it a value that balances form with function, color as well as insulation; whereas the aesthetics of the greater world are more incidental to its importance.

That the very first color divisions we created, were based not just on wavelength, but an intangible familiarity, almost tied up with how we interact with them. To say something was [warm color term] was not just to describe it, but to invoke a closeness to it that is separate from any cool color one.

That to this day, things like warm and cool, hot and cold, light and dark, hold context of liveliness and friendliness and intensity beyond their initial meaning. That that was baked into our perception of everything, not just ourselves!

It makes me think about how the Mayans wrote comics, and the speech bubbles that represented Anger and yelling, they were fringed with fire.

Anger: dynamic, yes, but ultimately fleeting entity, appearing and disappearing like fire against the backdrop of the ancient world changing perpetually around us

And it reminds me of a book i'm reading; in the book Braiding Sweetgrass, there is a chapter dedicated to the Native American language Potawatomi (and others), and how the distinction between environmental and created objects/beings is coded into verbs. Everything outside of immediate human creation is dynamic, not said as a noun but as a verb. A tree exists as a verb until it is turned into a table.

Value in its own existence, not as something that can be described flatly and superficially. "To be a Bay." Color be damned, when a bay is so much more than what it looks like!

And the Tsimane, they described the natural objects by their function, something dynamic and interconnected with everything, and the manmade ones by their color; unlike the english speakers, which were more likely to make no distinction.

Have we lost something there in our western lives, just as we've created a language that equates manmade objects with nature itself? What happened to change that?

Aso something to think of is how there's not a full overlap between warmth and human objects; we create overwhelmingly "warm" objects, but many warm objects like animals and fruits are created by the great, cool world. The frame of our existence is inherently equal to us, creating its own stuff we can use and need, the green of a forest occasionally bursting with the warm color of fruits and flowers for us and the animals! Just as we, dynamic beings, burst with our own creations! A mirrored creative force that we live amongst. The warmth of creation equated with the warmth of generosity.

There's so much to think of, both in understanding the way we interact with art, and the world, and each other, just using the conclusions of this article. How universal and interconnected color, warmth, volume, movement, function, everything, truly is.

#color #colors #human nature #psychology #linguistics #rambling #yeen yelling #article #nature #art

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lingthusiasm · 1 year ago

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Transcript Episode 83: How kids learn Q’anjob’al and other Mayan languages - Interview with Pedro Mateo Pedro

This is a transcript for Lingthusiasm episode ‘How kids learn Q’anjob’al and other Mayan languages - Interview with Pedro Mateo Pedro’. It’s been lightly edited for readability. Listen to the episode here or wherever you get your podcasts. Links to studies mentioned and further reading can be found on the episode show notes page.

[Music]

Gretchen: Welcome to Lingthusiasm, a podcast that’s enthusiastic about linguistics! I’m Gretchen McCulloch. I’m here with Dr. Pedro Mateo Pedro who’s an Assistant Professor at the University of Toronto, Canada, a native speaker of Q’anjob’al, and a learner of Kaqchikel. Today, we’re getting enthusiastic about kids acquiring Indigenous languages.

But first, some announcements. We love looking up whether two words that look kind of similar are actually historically related, but the history of a word doesn’t have to define how it’s used today. To celebrate how we can grow up to be more than we ever expected, we have new merch that says, “Etymology isn’t Destiny.” Our artist, Lucy Maddox, has made “Etymology isn’t Destiny” into a swoopy, cursive design with a fun little destiny star on the dot of the eye, available in black, white, and my personal favourite, rainbow gradient. This design is available on lots of different colours and styles of shirts. We’ve got hoodies, tank tops, t-shirts in classic fit, relaxed fit, curved fit – plus mugs, notebooks, stickers, water bottles, zipper pouches. You know, if it’s on Redbubble, we might’ve put “Etymology isn’t Destiny” on it.

We also have tons of other lingthusiastic merch available in our merch store at lingthusiasm.com/merch. I have to say, it makes a great gift to give to a linguistics enthusiast in your life or to request as a gift if you are that linguistics enthusiast.

We also wanna give a special shoutout to our aesthetic redesign of the International Phonetic Alphabet. Last year, we reorganised the classic IPA chart to have colours and have little cute circles and not just be boring grey lines of boxes and to even more elegantly represent the principle that the location of the symbols and rows and columns represents the place and degree of constriction in the mouth. I think it looks really cool. It’s also a fun little puzzle to sit there and figure out which of the specific circles around different things stands for what. We’ve now made this aesthetic IPA chart redesign available on lots more merch options, including several different sizes of posters from small ones you can put on a corkboard to large ones you can put up in your hallway. They look really, really good, especially if you have some sort of office-y space that needs to be decorated. Plus, it’s on tote bags and notebooks and t-shirts. If you want everyone you meet to know that you’re a giant linguistics nerd, you can take them to conferences and use them to start nerdy conversations with people.

If you like the idea of linguistics merch but none of ours so far is quite hitting your aesthetic, or if there’s an item that Redbubble sells that you think one of our existing designs would look good on, we’ve added quite a few merch items in response to people’s requests over the years, so we’d love to know where the gaps still are and keep an eye on lingthusiasm.com/merch.

Our most recent bonus episode was a behind-the-scenes interview with Sarah Dopierala, who you may recognise as a name from the end credits, about what it’s like doing transcripts from a linguistics perspective and her life generally as a linguistics grad student. You can go to patreon.com/lingthusiasm to get access to all of the many bonus episodes and to help Lingthusiasm keep running.

[Music]

Gretchen: Hello, Pedro, welcome to the show!

Pedro: Hello. Thank you so much for this invitation. I really appreciate it.

Gretchen: We’re really excited to have you. Let’s start with the question that we ask all of our guests, “How did you get interested in linguistics?”

Pedro: That’s an interesting question. I think there’re two main things. One is that I had the opportunity to attend a boarding school where there were many Mayan languages and, in addition to that, there was a class on grammar of Mayan languages, and I think that’s one of the things that motivated me to be curious about that language. Then after becoming an elementary school teacher, I was also interested about knowing more about how these languages work. For example, how language works in this case – well, in the case of Guatemala, for example, people think – I am assuming that that was in the past, but there’s, I think, some people who still think that Indigenous languages don’t have a grammar from there as well. Is it true that, in fact, there’s no grammar of this language? That’s kind of how I started –

Gretchen: There’s no language with no grammar.

Pedro: That’s true. I like when people say that everybody has a mental grammar. I like that. Which is true for every language as well. It’s how I would say I got interested in linguistics.

Gretchen: And you’re already a speaker of Q’anjob’al, and so going to this boarding school and being exposed to other people speaking other languages.

Pedro: Also, I acquired Q’anjob’al when I was a kid. And then I went to this boarding school. But unfortunately, I didn’t know any of those languages until later when I started living with my wife who is a native speaker of Kaqchikel, and from there I started to learn, but it has been a long process for me.

Gretchen: To learn different ones. So, you were at boarding school, and you’re encountering, “Okay, Mayan languages have grammar – great!” What happened after that?

Pedro: When I graduated from this boarding school, I became an elementary school teacher. I taught, I think, a couple of years. But one thing that I noticed is that there was that need to understand a bit more of the language. I thought, well, this is something that one of my best friends, who is Eladio Mateo Toledo, he said, “Well, let’s find someplace to go.” We went to school in Guatemala City to study sociolinguistics at that time. I’m talking about years ago. But it was a way to find opportunities to learn a little bit more about the languages.

Gretchen: So, you studied sociolinguistics in Guatemala City and thought, “Oh, this is cool. I wanna do more of it”?

Pedro: I finished sociolinguistics, and then I received a fellowship or a scholarship in a different university. It’s Universidad Rafael Landívar. There was this project called “EDUMAYA” where there were scholarships to Mayan speakers or Indigenous speakers in Guatemala. This was an opportunity for me to get an undergrad in linguistics. After that, I think I took two or one year off, but while I missed those years from school, I was working at OKMA – Oxlajuuj Keej Mayab’ Ajtz’iib’ – under the direction of Nora England.

Gretchen: What is this organisation?

Pedro: This organisation works on Mayan languages. It’s a group of Mayan speakers who studied their own language.

Gretchen: That sounds great.

Pedro: It was really great. In that case, I was an elementary school teacher, and then I started to work very hard at OKMA. It was a huge difference teaching kids and then doing analysis on a language. For me it was a big transition, but it was amazing because I had the opportunity to learn many things about how Mayan language work. It was unique.

Gretchen: And the kids that you were teaching when you were teaching in school were Mayan kids as well?

Pedro: Yeah, most of them were Mayan kids, so they spoke Q’anjob’al. Even though there is this idea about bilingual education in these Indigenous communities, I had this opportunity to teach these children in Q’anjob’al. One of the norms of education is you teach these kids, and they have to learn Spanish and something like that. So, what I did is, okay, let’s take as the base the knowledge that they bring from home. They speak the language, they understand the language, so we need to teach them how to write and read. That’s what I did. I was in trouble because the parents didn’t like the idea of teaching the children in Q’anjob’al.

Gretchen: They wanted them to learn Spanish.

Pedro: Exactly. They said, “Why do we need Q’anjob’al? Why do we need to write when we speak the language?” One of the arguments I made is, okay, yeah, but we need something already that will help us to learn to write and read. It took me a while. One way to convince the parents to change their mind was that, in the first meeting when they came in to get their children’s grade, I started the meeting in Spanish. I messaged them in Spanish. It didn’t last for a minute, and they stopped me. They started to complain and say, “Why would you talk to us in Spanish when, in fact, you know that we speak Q’anjob’al?” Different people, they were angry or uncomfortable because of that. After that, I asked them this question, “Have you thought about your children who spend about five or six hours every day here at school?”

Gretchen: “And if I speak to them in Spanish, they’re not gonna understand me either.”

Pedro: Exactly. That was my point. And this “Oh, yeah, yeah.” “Have you thought about that? Do they complain?” “No.” “Okay, because they are kids.”

Gretchen: They don’t know any better, yeah.

Pedro: For me, it’s important for these children to understand what’s going on in school. One way to do this – using the language that they know. I was able, in this case, to talk with the parents, “Okay, we understand what you are after.” I had the opportunity then to teach the children, at least, I mean, at that time – so divide a year in two parts. In the first part, I would teach the kids in writing and reading Q’anjob’al. And then in the next part of the year, we switched to Spanish. But at least that was an opportunity to –

Gretchen: They have sort of a balance of the two and accommodation of the two, and they’re not coming in and suddenly someone’s talking at them in a language they don’t understand at all – “Okay, what’s going on?” Yeah.

Pedro: Those were the things that I really liked when I go back to that experience that I had as an elementary school teacher.

Gretchen: Then you started doing language work with other linguists and speakers.

Pedro: Yeah. Again, when I came to OKMA, I started working with a group of Q’anjob’al speakers on the dialectal variation of Q’anjob’al. I was there, I think, less than three years. Then I left Guatemala because my wife had a scholarship, and we went to the US. That’s how I started learning English, and then started the MA and PhD programme at the University of Kansas.

Gretchen: In linguistics as well?

Pedro: In linguistics, yeah. Then I started to work on how children acquire Mayan languages – of course, not all Mayan languages, but I started to work on Q’anjob’al to document how these children acquire Q’anjob’al.

Gretchen: Sort of informed by this experience as a schoolteacher saying, “Okay, these kids are coming in already speaking this language. What’s going on?”

Pedro: I think the question is, “What do they know?” That’s how I got interested in this. Plus, at that time I had my first son who was, I think, one-year-and-a-half or something. It was like, okay, this is an opportunity for me to learn how to document child language acquisition. So, then I started to work on Q’anjob’al.

Gretchen: I think there are a lot of linguists who get interested in child language acquisition because you have a child, you’re spending all this time taking care of your child, “What are they doing?”

Pedro: For me, it was really interesting because, again, going back to when we moved from Guatemala to the US, the first time I took care of my son, so I made basically a diary of what he was saying almost every day. I have my notes – I dunno – somewhere.

Gretchen: Then you started looking at other children as well.

Pedro: Yeah. For my MA, for example, I looked at, I think, eight or ten children. It was a cross-sectional study. As for my PhD, I worked on a longitudinal study. My main focus at that time was on how these children acquire the verb morphology in the language, in this case, the word that indicates action, for example, what happens, and then the different parts that are necessary in that verb, for example. We talk about when the action happened, and who is participating in the action. Those are the kinds of things that I tried to evaluate in my study. That’s something that, also, I have been working on these days.

Gretchen: I mean, this is the kind of thing that it’s not like, oh, you study it for one degree, and now you know everything. This is the kind of thing that people could study for a whole career.

Pedro: Exactly. That’s an interesting point because what I have learned is that, okay, I’m going to – so my advisor said, “Well, you can start with this.” And I said, “Well, okay.” I started studying acquisition of the verb morphology, I think, more than 10 years ago. And I thought, “Well, I am done.” It’s not true! Because every time I look at the data, and I find other things, and I start asking other questions. There is no end of that – which is a nice thing that you start with something small –

Gretchen: You’re not gonna be out of a job.

Pedro: It’s nice. I think one thing that I really appreciate is the opportunity that I have also in documenting acquisition for Mayan languages. For example, I have documented the acquisition of Chuj, another written Mayan language to Q’anjob’al, for example. By looking into a known language, it helps me to understand what must be going on in Q’anjob’al. And I said, “Wow! I wish I had access to this language before so I could have a better idea of how to explain what was going on.”

Gretchen: You can find some things that are similar between Chuj and Q’anjob’al, and some things that are different, because the languages are grammatically, you know, related. They’re similar.

Pedro: That really helped in terms of analysis, in terms of understanding what’s going on, in terms of explaining a specific phenomenon, for example. It really helps to have that kind of mirror, for example, to see what’s going on.

Gretchen: One thing that I know about when kids are acquiring English is they often make mistakes. They’ll say things like “runned” instead of “ran” or something like that. This tells you “Oh, they’re generalising something about a rule.” Are there some things that come up with mistakes kids make or interesting things that kids do when they’re acquiring –

Pedro: That’s an interesting question. That’s something I was looking at, for example, for Chuj and for Q’anjob’al is that, so in Mayan languages, for example, there is this suffix that is known as the “status suffix” that appears after a verb. The idea of this status of something, like, it’s indicating what information is provided by the verb.

Gretchen: “Style” suffix?

Pedro: “Status.” “Status suffix.” It indicates whether the verb is a transitive verb or an intransitive verb. In this case, when we talk about intransitive verbs, it’s one participant of the verb. Transitive verb – two participants.

Gretchen: So, if you have something like “walk,” it’s gonna be intransitive, and it’s gonna have one status suffix. If you have something like, well, the classic example is “hit,” but I always find that very violent – you know, “hug” or something – that’s gonna be transitive. And it’s gonna have a different suffix.

Pedro: A different – yeah. In English, for example, that’s just one form of the verb. But in Mayan languages, or someplace, you have a specific morphology on the verb to indicate that, well, you are talking about an intransitive verb or a transitive verb.

Gretchen: So, if it’s just “I eat,” it’s gonna have one status suffix. If it’s “I eat an apple,” it’s gonna have a different status suffix to indicate that that’s there. Okay.

Pedro: I think, trying to answer your question, that all of this – I mean, there are all things that happen with this status suffix, but I haven’t seen children, for example, producing errors with these status suffixes. One thing that we have seen as maybe “errors” or children overgeneralising is the production of the status suffixes in a specific position. One thing that we know about status suffixes is that sometimes they appear at the end of a verb, and other times, they don’t. But in other times, they do. Then the question is, “What happened?”

Gretchen: And adults know this?

Pedro: An adult knows. But for a child, there are different variations on these status suffixes that a child has to find as a challenge. One thing that we notice is that these children, for example, produce these suffixes in non-final position – something that is not seen –

Gretchen: The adults only produce it at the end of the verb, at the end of the sentence?

Pedro: Yes and no. If they have what we call a “root verb” – consonant-vowel-consonant is the idea.

Gretchen: Consonant-vowel-consonant is a “root verb,” okay.

Pedro: When you have that verb with that “shape,” let’s say, that suffix doesn’t appear in the non-final position. But if you have something that is, let’s say, derived, then that suffix has to be there.

Gretchen: Okay. If you make the verb into something else by changing the tense or something –

Pedro: By changing the status of that word. You have the word “song,” for example, and then you make the verb “to sing,” then you add a morpheme to it so that this noun “song” becomes an intransitive. Because of that, then it’s a derived intransitive verb.

Gretchen: It’s a derived intransitive, and you need to have the suffix. Do the kids do this?

Pedro: They produce that. One thing that we noticed is that they make that difference between derived and non-derived intransitive verbs. Again, it’s like they are acquiring that, but that’s what we see as something problematic for them in acquiring those status suffixes.

Gretchen: They have some difficulties still.

Pedro: That’s, I would say, where we see them making those mistakes or having trouble with acquiring the suffixes.

Gretchen: Is there something that you’ve noticed that’s interesting about how kids are acquiring the languages you’ve worked on?

Pedro: In addition to looking at the verb morphology, I also studied how children acquire the nominal classifier – numeral classifier – in Q’anjob’al. In this case, some Mayan languages have a nominal classifier or a numeral classifier. In this language, for example, everything has to be classified. If you refer to a woman, for example, you’re going to use the classifier “ix,” and then “naq,” for example, for men. Then if you have other things like –

Gretchen: You know, a hat or something.

Pedro: Then it would be “chʼen,” for example.

Gretchen: That’s for objects in general, or are there several different kinds of objects?

Pedro: Well, for animals, for people, for objects, and things like that.

Gretchen: So, if you have a dog or something?

Pedro: That’s going to be different. That’s going to be “no’.” I was interacting with this child. He was a boy. Well, first, he was interacting with his grandmother. These classifiers were there. He was like “ix” or “naq” or “chem” or “ch’en” or “no’” – everything that was –

Gretchen: Everything that you would expect for all the different kinds of things that you can refer to.

Pedro: And then someone came to visit grandma. So, grandma left the conversation, so that left just the boy and myself. This is what happened. All of those classifiers were gone. There’s just one that stayed, which is “ix.”

Gretchen: So, he’s using “ix” for everything.

Pedro: “Ix” for everything. But this is not something that he’s just making up. It’s something that we can see in the other grammar.

Gretchen: Okay. Do other children do this as well?

Pedro: Other children do, but mainly boys – not girls.

Gretchen: Interesting.

Pedro: The thing is that this “ix” that replaces all nominal classifiers occurs mainly among men. People have argued that it’s mostly in informal contexts.

Gretchen: Right. So, because his grandma is gone, and you two are men together – well, he’s like, 3 years old.

Pedro: Exactly. It’s kind of like, “Okay, yeah, let’s use the ‘ix,’” replacing the others.

Gretchen: He’s sensitive to the sociolinguistic context of “Oh, women aren’t here anymore, so I’m gonna do this thing” –

Pedro: “With this guy.”

Gretchen: “With this guy.” Even at this young age.

Pedro: Exactly. He was about 2-and-a-half or 3 years old. This boy is able to distinguish both contexts. His grandma has come back in the conversation, and then those classifiers came back.

Gretchen: Wow. He’s really paying attention to this dynamic situation of whether his grandma is here or not changing how he talks.

Pedro: When to use all the classifiers and when to use just one classifier. For me, again, that’s a way to illustrate that these children, they’re exposed to the language, and they are exposed to this system of the nominal classifier, but in addition to that information, the social aspect of that nominal –

Gretchen: And the cultural context where if you just had kids who are trying to learn language in a classroom while maybe the teacher is a woman, and you don’t have all the different types of social situations.

Pedro: One of the things that’s important to emphasise, then, when we do language documentation is making sure that that interaction with that child doesn’t happen only with grandma, for example, but happens with the different gender – I mean, in this case, female/male, and also –

Gretchen: Ages.

Pedro: And there’s ages and the kids themselves.

Gretchen: Because maybe the kids are talking differently with each other than they’re talking with their grandparents or their aunts and uncles or the older generation. The researcher doesn’t necessarily know in advance which things the kids are gonna be paying attention to because maybe the kids don’t learn how to talk like the men until they’re older. You don’t know what age they learn that until you’re studying it.

Pedro: Exactly. I would say the take home message in this part of the conversation is documenting everything, basically, because you never know, I mean, what you will learn. I mean, you never know what will come with this child’s interaction.

Gretchen: I think sometimes when we’re analysing how kids talk, at least a lot of the studies that I see on big languages like English, they bring the kid and maybe one parent, the mom or something, into a lab and they have them talk in this controlled but also very artificial environment. You don’t have the environments of, “Well, somebody comes to the door, so grandma has to go answer the door” that lets you have this situation where you can illuminate this effect. Sometimes, if you do too much control, you don’t actually see the natural things that happen.

Pedro: That’s the difference that we see, I mean, in this case between doing an experimental study and a naturalistic setting, for example. I think when you do certain things in that natural setting, then you have the opportunity to see the language being used in different contexts, for example. In this case that we are discussing for the “ix,” I think it’s a unique illustration of the importance of documenting the language as a whole.

Gretchen: In the whole community, cultural context. I mean, of course, then you also have the thing of like, “Oh, if there’s some birds in the background or something.”

Pedro: Again, that’s the advantage and disadvantage of doing this kind of work. I think it’s good to do both, especially when we talk about Indigenous languages. You mentioned something important, “Okay, what do we know, for example, about language acquisition?” I think most of that information comes from the well-known languages. What happens to these less studied languages or languages that haven’t been studied at all, for example – how to bring those languages into discussing what we learn about language acquisition?

Gretchen: And there’s two reasons why that’s really important. One is because, for speakers of those languages, if they want to try to support using them in schools or using them in daily life or trying to revitalise a language that’s become less common in daily life, having the knowledge of “How do kids talk in this language? What are their first words like? How do adults normally talk to children in a bit of a different style?”

Pedro: I think we can say that it’s not just about the grammatical aspect of the language that these kids are acquiring, but at the same time, how they are acquiring that language, for example. I think one thing that it would be good to connect with language revitalisation is, like, let’s learn the language thinking like we are kids. Because a kid, for example, wouldn’t think about “Oh, is this the way to say it?” “Should I put this here?”

Gretchen: “Should I put this suffix on this verb?”

Pedro: Exactly.

Gretchen: Kids don’t know what a suffix is.

Pedro: And it takes time for them to get to the production of the adult level. For instance, also the sound system that these children produce. Q’anjob’al, for example, has retroflex sounds like /ʈʂʰ/ or /ʈʂʼ/, for example, /ʂ/. And these kids do not produce them like –

Gretchen: They can’t produce them immediately.

Pedro: No, no, no. It takes time for them. I will say three-years-and-a-half or four. It takes that time to produce this retroflex. I think when we are in the context of revitalisation, those learners of a language will go through similar patterns of acquisition.

Gretchen: If you’re trying to re-learn Q’anjob’al as an adult and being stressed that you can’t produce the retroflex and say, “Look, it takes the kids four years. If it takes you four years, that’s really normal. You can keep practicing this and get better at it. If you can’t do it on the first day, then you still have hope.”

Pedro: That’s the importance of doing this kind of project and documenting how children acquire this kind of language. Then this information can be useful for other purposes.

Gretchen: Q’anjob’al also has the ejectives, which I’m not doing a very good job of pronouncing, but you’ve been saying it in the name of the language itself that “Q’anjob’al.”

Pedro: /qʼanxobʼal/, yes.

Gretchen: Do kids learn those really early, or are they a bit harder?

Pedro: It takes time for them as well. That’s another interesting question because what we have noticed is that these children, when they try to produce these ejectives, they would follow two strategies. One – either they produce the plain consonant.

Gretchen: So /kanxobal/ instead of /qʼanxobal/?

Pedro: Exactly. Or they would just produce the glottal stop.

Gretchen: Oh, okay, so /ʔnxobal/?

Pedro: Or something like /ʔanxobal/, but I’m just making this up. It will be something like this – either they use a plain or this glottal stop. It’s a process.

Gretchen: Extracting the two possible features that you would need to put together eventually.

Pedro: This has been reported for the acquisition of sounds in K’iche’ and Chuj, and I also see it in Q’anjob’al.

Gretchen: These are all Mayan languages that have –

Pedro: Mayan languages that have ejectives as well. Maybe someone will say, “This is our dialectal variation,” or “It’s just the kids,” I mean, because of individual differences, but no, it’s across –

Gretchen: It’s across a bunch of them. That gets us to the other reason why it’s really important to document kids acquiring lots of different languages – Indigenous languages – is that, when we’re trying to think, “What do we think about how kids learn language in general?” if we base those theories entirely on a few big languages that have other relatively similar typological features in some cases – English and Spanish are typologically related, and so if you’re coming up with a theory just based on English and Spanish, well, you know, that’s not very generalisable.

Pedro: That’s true. I think that’s one of the other things that we wanted to mention here, like how to include other languages to understand human language and also how these children acquire languages – human languages in the world, you mentioned, that sometimes haven’t been explored at all. It would be good to document those languages and have a better idea of what these kids do. But the other thing that I’m going to add here is that, yeah, we want to have a better idea of how these children acquire language, but at the same time, how this information can be used, again, for language revitalisation or for language maintenance or things that the community’s interested in. One thing that I noticed, for example, about this in Q’anjob’al is that these children, their first words have a basic shape which is consonant-vowel-consonant. This is really common in the whole Mayan languages, but these are the specific things that these children produce. If that’s the case, then is this information possible to use when we consider creating teaching materials for these children? It would be a good thing to have this because it’s going to be much easier if these children can read these words with this shape, for example.

Gretchen: Right. If you know what words they’re acquiring early, then you can say, “Oh, well, we’ll put those words in maybe the first books that we’re trying to have them learn because you don’t wanna try to have them read a book with words that they don’t understand, they’re not using already. You can use this small shape – because Mayan languages have, you know, quite a bit of prefixes and suffixes and things on the words but, of course, you have to start somewhere, and that’s just with – the roots are generally consonant-vowel-consonant, so they just produce the root first, and then they start adding things onto it.

Pedro: Exactly. They are good at identifying those roots in the input or in the adult grammar in this case, yeah. Also, I had the opportunity to collaborate with other people about trying to understand how these pieces are put in the verb. What we have noticed is that there’s the root, and then children are good at producing suffixes.

Gretchen: Ah. But not prefixes?

Pedro: Not prefixes, but for a reason.

Gretchen: What’s that?

Pedro: Stress.

Gretchen: Oh.

Pedro: Stress is also with these suffixes. You have the root and then the suffix.

Gretchen: And that’s the part they do first, and then they do the prefixes much later.

Pedro: Yeah, later.

Gretchen: Interesting.

Pedro: That’s the other thing that we have.

Gretchen: So, you work at the University of Toronto now.

Pedro: Yes.

Gretchen: What sorts of projects are you working on there?

Pedro: Well, my position is about language documentation and language revitalisation. One of the projects that I am currently working on is about the revitalisation of Itza’, another Mayan language spoken in Guatemala, in the northern part of Guatemala, in Petén. It’s a language that has been considered an endangered language because it has less than 40 speakers.

Gretchen: Wow. Less than 40.

Pedro: And most of them are elders. I think this week I was asked about how old is the youngest, and I said, “Well, 70-something.” Children are not acquiring that language anymore. But the goal in this project is how to teach the language and how to bring the language back. That’s one of the projects that I am doing – how to do that. One thing that we are doing with the community is two main things, 1.) is developing a workshop on teaching them how to teach the language.

Gretchen: Right. Because just because you can speak a language doesn’t mean you know how to teach it.

Pedro: That’s one of the things that we did. What would be the best method? We’re using a method that has been used in other contexts, so let’s try to use this for the revitalisation of Itza’, in this case, not for all Mayan languages, but for Itza’ because of the condition of it.

Gretchen: Because Q’anjob’al still has lots of speakers.

Pedro: Lots of speakers, yeah, so it’s different from Itza’. So, that’s one thing. The other thing we are doing – and for me this is really important because we are developing pedagogical material that we are using for the same purpose, but the unique thing for this grammar is that we have students at the University of Toronto who are involved in creating information about the grammar. In this case, these students are doing research about the subject of Itza’, but because they are preparing this material for non-linguists, for example, it’s an opportunity for them, okay, they have to understand the structure of the language but then how to share that information with people who are not linguists.

Gretchen: Who wanna become speakers and don’t have background in grammar or any of these theoretical concepts, but they just need to know how to talk to people.

Pedro: For me, these students have this opportunity to learn to speak the language and then also the opportunity how to share that information with these people, but in addition to that, having the opportunity to work with Indigenous communities and also doing language revitalisation.

Gretchen: And trying to accomplish the community’s goals rather than, okay, I have this research agenda, I’m just gonna show up, extract some information, and then go off and get a degree and have a career without benefitting the community.

Pedro: I think that’s something that I tried to tell the students. Okay, it’s good that you are learning this. You’re doing your research. But at the same time, this is the impact that you are making with your work. Maybe you cannot see it now, but later, you will realise, “Oh, this is what” – it takes time to understand what you are doing. Again, I consider this as an opportunity for the students to be involved in this situation. The other part is, in addition to the workshop on teaching methods, we are also working with community members about the different lessons that we are putting into this grammar. How can we do this? Or how do we do this? Or how do we say this? Basic expressions.

Gretchen: So, if you wanna have a lesson about foods, you wanna make sure you’re using the foods that are in the local area that they wanna be able to talk about not some sort of food that nobody’s actually eating in this place.

Pedro: Exactly. But again, just by doing that, it’s a long process. It has been a long process. We have been working on this grammar, I think, more than a year, and we are not even done. But still, that is helping us to understand how to work with the community, but at the same time, how to work with the elders who have the knowledge of the language, for example. I was telling some of the colleagues a while ago saying that, okay, I was asked whether this pedagogical grammar will be going on under review. I said, “Well, it’s going under review at the moment with the elders.”

Gretchen: Right. It’s not necessarily going under peer review by academics, you’re having the true experts, which is the elders, look at it and say, “What do we think? Do we think this is a reasonable reflection of our language?” How is it like for you as a speaker of a different Mayan language to go into a different community? Do you think this makes it complicated for you or interesting?

Pedro: It’s really interesting for me because I always consider this as an opportunity to work with another group of Mayan speakers but also an opportunity to help them because, I mean, as Mayan speakers or as Indigenous speakers, for example, we go through the same situation. For me, it’s really important to consider that. But I also feel like I have built this good relationship with them and to work in this project. But one thing that I would like to mention is that even though I am a Mayan speaker, even though I am from Guatemala, one thing that I have tried to emphasise is like, showing respect for them. Again, they are different cultures. I mean, we’re Mayan, but our way of living is not the same. I think I try to respect that, like, yes, I am from there, but that doesn’t mean I have impulse things.

Gretchen: It doesn’t mean you know everything already.

Pedro: No, no, no, no. I always say this – I am also learning with them. I am helping. We are developing this project. But we are learning together. That’s the approach I take when working on these kinds of projects.

Gretchen: And you’re also coming in with the backing of a big Canadian research institution and this sort of stuff which puts you in a different situation.

Pedro: I think it’s a lot of responsibility. I think one thing that I am learning is that, yes, we have to do language revitalisation, but I think there’s another component that we have to consider that’s about the research aspect of that. One thing that I noticed about what I am doing is working in the infrastructure of the project, building that relationship, working with elders, working with the different activists in the language, for example. I think that’s the first step. Now, we are doing this, but as for research, you asked me, I don’t have much to say, but again, I think building that infrastructure, it takes time. But if I try to think a little bit more, I would say, well, we have some results of this project. I could mention two. One of them is that we have trained some speakers of the language about the teaching method. They are using this method to teach the language. We are about to finish up this pedagogical grammar for the language. I think those can be considered as “results.”

Gretchen: That’s balancing the way that you have to talk to funding agencies and universities and these bodies that care about results that you can report in a list somewhere while also saying, “Okay, but we actually care about the results that the community members care about, which is having more people able to speak the language,” which is not actually what the research institutions are trying to fund. So, there’s lots of different people who have different priorities that you’re trying to balance between.

Pedro: But for me, that’s an opportunity of how to communicate those ideas and how to make that balance. Sure, research will come. Research will grow.

Gretchen: But the relationship –

Pedro: But the question, “Is it easy to start?” It will take a little bit of time. I think one of the things I would like to mention here, a “keyword,” I would say, is to be patient. Sometimes, we want to see really fast.

Gretchen: Results really fast, yeah.

Pedro: It takes time, yeah. That’s one thing that I see. I also see that this project will grow, and I think there will be more students who will be more interested in working in the project. That’s my hope.

Gretchen: I hope so, too. If people wanna know more information about Q’anjob’al or Chuj or any of the other research that’s being done on Mayan languages, is there somewhere where they should start for more information?

Pedro: I think if you are interested to know more about, in this case, the work that I do, I would recommend exploring my personal website. You can go to linguistics, the University of Toronto, and then you will find my personal website.

Gretchen: We’ll link to that from the description as well so people can follow that for more information.

Pedro: Thank you.

Gretchen: If you could leave people knowing one thing about linguistics, what would that be?

Pedro: That’s a good question. I would like to say the following – when you do linguistics, it’s good to start with something small. It’s good that you start with that something small and then start asking questions that maybe you don’t have answer to that question, but you will find answers to that question. I hope I can connect that or relate that to what I mentioned in the discussion that we had today. Remember, I said that I started studying the verb in Q’anjob’al – and I am not done exploring that. Start with something small. But the other thing is that, yes, as a linguist, for example, or as a researcher, you have your own agenda, but try to reflect a little bit about, also, the community’s agenda and the community’s needs. I think that’s important to have that in mind and also important for you to build a relationship with that community that you are working with.

[Music]

Gretchen: For more Lingthusiasm and links to all the things mentioned in this episode go to lingthusiasm.com. You can listen to us on Apple Podcasts, Google Podcasts, Spotify, SoundCloud, YouTube, or wherever else you get your podcasts. You can follow @lingthusiasm on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr. You can get redesigned IPA posters, “Not Judging Your Grammar, Just Analysing It” stickers, t-shirts that say, “Etymology isn’t Destiny,” and other Lingthusiasm merch at lingthusiasm.com/merch. I can be found as @GretchenAMcC on Twitter, my blog is AllThingsLinguistic.com, and my book about internet language is called Because Internet. Lauren tweets and blogs as Superlinguo. Our guest, Pedro Mateo Pedro, can be found at pedromateopedro.ca. Lingthusiasm is able to keep existing thanks to the support of our patrons. If you wanna get an extra Lingthusiasm episode to listen to every month, our entire archive of bonus episodes to listen to right now, or if you just wanna help keep the show running ad-free, go to patreon.com/lingthusiasm or follow the links from our website. Patrons can also get access to our Discord chatroom to talk with other linguistics fans and be the first to find out about new merch and other announcements. Recent bonus topics include an interview about what it's like to transcribe all of the Lingthusiasm episodes as a linguist, using linguistics in the workplace beyond academia, and a very special Lingthusiasmr bonus episode where we read The Harvard Sentences to you [ASMR voice] in a calm, soothing voice. [Normal voice] Can’t afford to pledge? That’s okay, too. We also really appreciate it if you can recommend Lingthusiasm to anyone in your life who’s curious about language. Lingthusiasm is created and produced by Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne. Our Senior Producer is Claire Gawne, our Editorial Producer is Sarah Dopierala, our Production Assistant is Martha Tsutsui-Billins, and our Editorial Assistant is Jon Kruk. Our music is “Ancient City” by The Triangles.

Pedro: Stay lingthusiastic!

[Music]

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muttman · 3 years ago

Text

Hard to swallow pills (for tumblr):

A species that lives entirely underground would have little reason to have melanin, especially if they live primarily around a climate similar to England and Europe in general, especially because lighter skin allows for more vitamins to be obtained when there is less sun normally, this is why non-europeans and non-east asians are darker, the sun is more ínstense and so there’s need for protection and less need to take in more vitamins.

Any added character to Tolkien’s canon does by definition break canon, because the story then has to be changed to accommodate them. Any Beardless dwarf or short haired elf also applies, because of the pre-established culture of each race, and so the culture has to be augmented from what was written by Tolkien to accommodate.

Elves as Tolkien wrote them had long flowing hair because they saw that as beautiful, and the Dwarves never shaved. In addition to the melanin thing, the modern elves make no sense.

Middle Earth was inspired by European mythology, and so has European characters. It features non-europeans from far off lands, like the Harad of the south and the Easterlings of the East, but overall it makes sense as to why the characters are light skinned (I say this as a Mestizo). You shouldn’t cast Christian Bale to play Malcom X, nor Awkwafina to play Robert the Bruce. Same as you’d cast dark, straight haired mestizo (or a fully indigenous Nahuatl speaker if you’re lucky) to play an Aztec or a Mayan.

Grogu is a cutsy piece of bait to get you to watch mediocre shows and distract from the shit sequel trilogy. Star Wars is now just colorful garbage and Din Djarin is (and always has been) a different breed of Gary Stu than Rey, but still such none the less, a plank of wood with all of the “super kewl” items that people know, like Yoda’s species (formerly tridactyls), and the darksaber.

Star Wars and Star Trek, and soon Middle Earth, are being lost to the Normies, and the only way to preserve the original fandom is to make sure you keep an iron grip on your original copies of the series and of Tolkien’s work, to prevent the Heirs from allowing editing.

The people here clap for the most basic shit imaginable, like Din Djarin holding his hands up from a droid about to shoot him. Despite the fact that his opinion on droids has been aboit as stable as a wet noodle, and this isn’t even his show.

Tumblr has not improved as much as you’d think since the exodus, but instead simply infected other sites with its exodus.

Modern Writing, relies now so heavily on the fans making the character traits for the writers, that characters like Din Djarin have exploded in popularity, despite being planks of wood.

Now, I’m leaving this stupid site to learn to write properly, so I can rebuild where Disney and others destroyed, and I’ll laugh as their properties continue to plummit and the Normies slowly fade, to find a new nieche to make into a trend, only to find its fandom wiser, and gatekeeping the fuck out of it, and see peace be restored.

#anti disney #fuck the sequels #also fuck korra because why not #Star Wars is dead #No modern writer cares about continuity #R.I.P. J.R.R. Tolkien #R.I.P. Christopher Tolkien #Fuck Tumblr #fuck amazon #Fuck Bad Robot aka Bad Reboot

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thoughtfulmagazinepaper · 3 years ago

Text

Unusual Encounters Pt. 3!

"This is why I don't socialize."

Summary. Valentino and Angel wake up hungover, tired and sore from the party last night, Valentino shares some new information.

Words: 2333

Enjoy!

I woke up to the sound of the TV playing in the background, and someone moving dishes around in the kitchen. I slowly opened my eyes, adjusting to the brightness of the lights.

"Angel?" I questioned, still half asleep.

"Look who's finally awake. You sure are a lightweight huh?" I laughed at this statement. I moved my hair out of my face, gathering my bearings and sitting up.

I could smell food cooking, and the window was opened from what I could see. I got up, heading over to the kitchen to help him wash dishes.

"You know, in Ukraine you can drink as soon as you can reach the bar." His eyes widened. "So no, I wouldn't consider myself a lightweight by any means." I snickered at his expression, grabbing a dish and scrubbing it. He looked confused now.

"Yo, I can clean my own kitchen thanks." He stated, flipping the eggs he had cooking and taking a sip of his water.

"Oh I know, but it doesn't really look like this place has been cleaned in a while. Plus, I know the whole biker thing cancels it out, but I like helping certain people." I said, putting emphasis on the word certain. "Then why help me?" he asked, a glint in his eyes I couldn't quite place.

"because you're my friend, plus, a Mayan just like myself." I grumbled, trying to shake the bit of drowsiness still left in my body.

He was talking, but, I wasn't listening. I was looking around his house. There were scattered alcohol bottles, a dirty carpet, and it reeked like rotten food. He was still talking, but I just dropped my dish back into the sink with a clank, grabbed a plastic garbage back out from under his sink and went over to pick up the many glass bottles scattered on almost every solid surface in the house.

"And like I sai- wh-..... what the fuck Hawk?" He gave me an irritated stare.

"Don't look at me like this place doesn't smell sour." I snapped, giving him a look like he had the audacity here. "I'm willing to help if you're up to it."

He thought about it for a second, then without saying anything, grabbed a trash bag and started picking stuff up. I clicked on a speaker and started playing some music.

Eventually we got into a rhythm, I'd clean up the empty bottles and leave the ones that still had alcohol in them to him to put back on a shelf. After a few hours of dusting, vacuuming, scrubbing, etc. His house was clean. And better yet, it smelled clean.

My phone rang.

It was Bishop. My heart dropped a bit, I was enjoying spending time with Angel. "Who's that? He asked. I put my finger over my lips and answered.

"Hey uncle, whatcha' need?" I asked, Angel gave me a quiet "ohhhhh," and listened in.

"Hey, I need you and Angel to come to the clubhouse. An emergency cartel shipment was just ordered by Galindo. Sorry to trouble you while you're moving in, but its urgent. We need all the men we can get. It's a shipment of 20 keys, so it's pretty risky. Get here fast."

"Okay, Love you."

"Love ya too, bye."

And he hung up.

"Shit." Angel muttered, we both put our Kuttes on, not having time to change. I followed him out to the clubhouse, still not knowing the way very well. A bunch of thoughts went through my head. How is this gonna play out? What if Angel gets hurt-? Wait. Why do I care if he gets hurt so much?

Shit.

Before I could answer my own questions, we were already pulling into the scrapyard. Bishop walked out as we parked.

"Emergency Templo. Now."

(A/N: sorry in advance for the amount of dialogue about to happen 😭)

Me and Angel glanced at each other. We went inside without a word, and the other guys were already at the table. I took a seat next to Angel under Bishop's orders, and so began my first Templo.

"So, the keys aren't the problem." Bishop started. "We have the keys we need. The problem, is that our last shipment got ambushed and we're shit outta luck with help from Galindo to get our heroin over the border. Don't suggest the underground tunnels, there's way too much to ship it that way. But chances are, we'll get ambushed again when trying to drive them to the location. Any ideas?"

"Fight back." I mumbled.

"The fuck did you just say?" Bishop demanded.

"I said, fight back. If this ambush is so unavoidable and we have no other options, then I think the answer is pretty simple. Prepare for the ambush, and come back at them with double the power. It's a risk, but it's not like we have a lot of options here."

Atlas, who sits directly across from me, cut a glance in my direction, then back to Bishop. I could tell he didn't expect me to do something like that.

Bishop paused. He looked like he was staring into my soul honestly. But I stood my ground. I mean, what the fuck else did we have to do? Not give him a shipment?

"..anything anyone wants to add?" Bishop finally asked.

Silence.

"Then it passes. We'll fight back against the ambush if it happens. If anyone gets hurt, I'm blaming you Hawk." He sternly nodded in my direction, I nodded back. "Fair enough."

He smacked his gavel down, and everyone got up.

"Damn Hawk, you for really went for it?" Atlas materialized beside me.

"You came out of nowhere- but yeah, is that a bad thing?" I asked, a bit worried if that was bad manners in America or something.

"Nah, but it shows you got some major balls." He laughed, so did Angel who was on my other side. I gave a nervous laugh, looking over and seeing nails scoping me out. Yep, the same girl I pulled off blondie. She looked at me, marched towards me, and slapped me. Ouch.

All of the guys went silent.

"Why are some of the girls in here telling me that you think I'm disgusting because I'm Taza's girl." God, this girl was seething.

Taza cut me a glance, shook my head.

Atlas was about to open his mouth to defend me, but I put my hand out over his chest. "This isn't your problem Atlas." he looked at me, examining my face. he then put his hands up and backed off. My attention turned back to Nails.

"Taza's practically my uncle, ese. Plus I was helping Angel clean his house all morning. Why and how would I have said that"

Then I saw her.

The same blonde bitch that was fighting Nails, watching the whole thing while drinking a beer.

"You. Blondie. Get the fuck over here." I demanded, she brought her drink with her and took her sweet ass time walking over.

"What do you want now?" She asked me. A fake innocence in her voice.

"Don't be fucking dumb, we all know you started this rumor because you're too pussy to say it about Angel and you don't know me." I laughed, taking her drink out of her hand and setting it on the table. "Get the fuck out of this clubhouse, you aren't even someone's girl." My thick Russian-Spanish accent popped out more than usual. The guys looked at Bishop, and he nodded.

She left, but not before taking the two drops left in her drink and trying to throw it at me.

The guys were laughing at something, then I just look to my right and see Atlas eyeing me like I was fucking crazy.

"What..?" I asked, he genuinely looked like he saw me grow a third eye.

"Nothing, I just thought you wasn't gonna react like that-" he started. "I for real thought you were- let me stop before I get hit."

I looked at him weird, but I didn't pay any mind to it. I'm kind of odd, and by my accent you can tell I'm foreign. So, a lot of people expect me to be quieter. They're dead wrong.

Bishop checked his watch. "We have 2 hours until we have to get this run done. Its 4pm right now."

All of the guys nodded, I went and sat down at one of the leather barstools. Nails strutted over to me. She sat down opposite to me, watching Taza and Coco play a pool game behind my left shoulder. Eventually she focused in on me, a look of sincerity in her eyes.

"Hey, sorry I slapped you. I just get heated when people talk about me like I'm a common whore. I really like Taza, so being treated like I'm one of these casual cumsluts pisses me off; Luckily the guys got that, but since you're knew I wasn't really surprised. My bad." She held out a hand, and I pulled her into a quick hug.

"Don't worry about it Querida; I would have reacted the same way." I was genuine when I said that, shit happens. I put my hand over hers, trying to be nice.

"You two want drinks?" Ez asked behind the bar. I grabbed my card out of my wallet and tapped it on the wooden table. He took it, going behind him and getting two shots ready for us.

Nails looked at me with a slight confusion. "By the way, where's your accent from? I know you jumper charters from somewhere outside of America but that's all I know."

Ez came out with the shots, setting them in front of us. We both grabbed one, clinked them together and threw them back.

"My accent is from two places. I was born in Ukraine and lived there for 19 years. Eventually I moved to Mexico because I couldn't see myself staying in Ukraine without any family. I patched in about 5 months into prospecting because I killed in battle, so I lived in Yucatán for 8 years until I moved here. Plus, the reason I'm around Atlas so much is because he was my sponsor when I was prospecting in Yucatan. Here I have more family and I can cross the border any time I like to see my family that's closer to the border, like in Mexicali or some shit. So, my accent is kind of weird."

"You lived in Yucatán?" I heard Angel say behind me. "I've heard it's beaches are really cool, what's it like?" He asked, I could almost laugh at how socially unaware this guy is.

"Yeah, they don't lie. The only thing annoying about it is shitty tourists acting like you're stupid. I LOVED fucking with the tourists."

Over the next two hours, I started talking with Nails and Angel about both of my old countries I lived in, the family, the club, the people, etc. Along with the occasional interruptions from Atlas talking about how different I was. Eventually we had to call a quits because we had to do this damn cartel run.

,"Alright everybody! On your bikes! Taza yelled, everyone got up, stopped whatever they were doing and filed out of the clubhouse. We still had to pick up the keys, but once we did that, the plan was ready. And the mess ups would be on my hands.

Mine.

#angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes x reader #mayans imagine #mayans #mayans mc #m!mc #male mc

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skydinzeal · 2 years ago

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🔥⚡👽🌟In 2012 I was a guest speaker in South America on the topic of the Mayan Calendar! I spoke to the Norse Gods, shared their Rune songs and practiced Kung Fu on the pyramids. Those pyramids spoke to me and I set about to create the Talisman below that you see! It is for Astral Journeying, originally. Soon clients wrote back it activated chakras that they kept it atop. I began meditating for hours at a time while keeping it on my crown. Visit http://www.skydin.com to speak with me live! 🔥⚡👽🌟🦋👑🌷 I hand-make talismans, paintings/sculptures for you or your loved ones!🌷All of my creations are made of 100s of ancient, powerful symbols! I've tested and taught Spiritual practices via my classes at NYCs Edgar Cayce Center for 10 years. I am likely LIVE right now on http://www.skydin.com & will sense and gift you what you need! 💜💜💜 🔭🌠💜👽✨ I am looking for an art gallery or store to give my best to! I am a rare, tireless entertainer, salesperson and psychic. I have huge social media reach and can work day and night continuously! I don't even need to eat, but there's one thing I won't do and that's be complacent! If you would like to make a connection happen contact me. If it works out I will pay you! . . . . . . #bosnianpyramids #europeanpyramids #spiritualjewelry #psychic #paranormal #anunnaki #ancientEgypt #bosnianpyramids #nephilim #Thoth #pyramid #tarot #divination #ankh . . #sorcery #magick #pagangods #occultsymbols #elven #witchesofinstagram #metaphysical #medieval #sacredgeometry #mysteryschool #heathen #sorcery #celtic #healingtools #wizard #stonehenge #mythology #harrypotter (at Brooklyn, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnsFc9LPekL/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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mayans-sauce · 4 years ago

Text

Man-Child

Gif Creadit: @ angels-reyes

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female Reader

Word Count: 560

Warnings: mention of dick sucking and Angel being a pouty boy

Thank you @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting for sending me this tweet and giving ideas as well: I forgot my bfs phone was dead, so when he went to the bathroom I decided to roam around Walmart. About 20 minutes later I hear “Y/N Y/L/N” your child is at register 10. I walk over there and there he is... my boyfriend... sitting there... on the bench... pouting that I left him.

GROUP CHAT for updates!

•• Main Masterlist •• Angel Masterlist ••

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“Stay right here please, I need to take a piss,” Angel said to you as he walked into the Walmart bathroom.

You decided that you would just roam around a bit, not far away. Angel was a grown man; he could find his way back to you with no problem.

You had completely lost track of time as you were walking around, and about 20 minutes later, you hear over the store speakers someone asking for you. “Y/N Y/L/N, your child is at register ten. Please come and collect.”

Child? That’s weird… “Child? We don’t have a child… what the fuck is this?” You said with your eyebrows furrowed together. But you decide to check anyway. Maybe it was one of the kids you knew from your friends that knew you were here and got lost.

When you get over to register ten, you see Angel sitting on a bench. His arms were crossed, legs bouncing up and down, and he was pouting at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as you walked towards your boyfriend. “Child? What the fuck Angel? Are you pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?” You couldn’t help but laugh even more at your own words. God, you were funny. “Oh no, the cashier meant you! You are the child!” You leaned down a little, holding onto your knees because it started to hurt so much from laughing.

Angel didn’t find it humorous. He was still in the position as he was a minute ago. “You left me. You left me all alone. I spent 20 minutes trying to find you.” He looked so cute when he was trying to be angry. “Aww, I’m sorry, my Angel,” you took both of his hands in yours, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw a Karen giving you both dirty looks, and you knew it was then time for you to go before she caused an unnecessary scene in the store.

“Come on,” you helped him to stand on his feet, “let me buy you a lollipop, and then we’ll get out of here.”

That seemed to put him in a better spirit because his face was smiling from ear to ear now at the mention of something sweet for him.

As you were walking out of the Walmart doors hand in hand, Angel was sucking on the candy you had given him. He was happy and satisfied, and it looked like he had left what happened just minutes ago out the window.

“Are you happy now, Angel? With your lollipop?” He wrapped his lips around it, sucking for a second before it came out of his mouth with a pop. “It’s not the only thing getting sucked tonight.” He gave you a wink indicating that it would be his dick in your mouth in a few hours.

“HA!”

He stopped dead in his tracks as he held his arms up by his side, annoyed, but you continued to walk towards the bike. Your head turned towards your irritated boyfriend standing in the middle of the parking place, a shit-eating grin on your face. “I ain’t no predator Angel! Now come on, let’s go home and watch the children’s network,” you almost shouted, “man-child,” the faintest of whispers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading❤️ Let me know what you think❤️

GENERAL TAGLIST: @everyhowlmarksthedead @-im-fantastic- @idorkish @bishopslosawife @witching-hour @rosieposie0624 @jessprins13 @skyofficialxx @glamourglambert @jasminee97 @starrynite7114 @gemini0410 @rocketqueen @mack-jay @megapeacelovemusic-blog @weasleytwins-41 @achievement-hunters-blog54 @taurean-brat @multifandom.girlie @anythingandeverything97 @spookyboogyuniverse

MAYANS MC TAGLIST: @blessedboo @60shannon @bellisperennis0 @capnsaveahoe @diaryofkali @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @xvvalx @missswritings @theocatkov @pinguinstudiert @chibsytelford @encounterthepast @rawrlittlepanda-95 @beeroses @siriussnape07 @adaydreamaway08 @miss-nori85 @oldstuffnewstuff @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @jatriciaaa @creepers-baby-girl @browneyes9125 @cole-winchester @blackksunflower12 @phoenixhalliwell @cant-decide-at-this-moment @love-mesome-me @holl2712 @jennisdirtyimagines @balladbloodwrites

ANGEL REYES TAGLIST: @spnaquakindgdom

#mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc fluff #mayans mc fandom #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fx #mayans x reader #mayans fluff #mayans fandom #mayans fanfic #mayans fx #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes fluff #angel reyes fic #angel reyes imagine #clayton cardenas #mayanssauce writes

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imagineredwood · 3 years ago

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Can we send in d d l g esque requests? I just read that story BB rebloged with EZ so If I can, can I make an SDOD inspired HC for EZ where his girl and him got into a fight so they're not really speaking but he can tell that she had a rough day and just needs him to be that caretaker for her so he does. It's totally cool if you don't write stuff like that anymore, I was just wondering. Either way, love your writing. Not common to find work that latinas can fully submerge themselves in❤️

You can absolutely send in SDOD inspired requests! I have a soft spot for them actually lol Thanks for the request and I'm glad I could create content for you that you can identify with. Also, this got long af because it made me too soft and put me in a ✨mood ✨ 🥺

The fight was simple, nothing that was a deal-breaker or anything

Even still, you were both irritated with each other, neither able to see where the other was coming from

So rather than get to the point where either said something they couldn't take back, you decided to get some space

EZ stayed in the house of course, never one to leave you alone and unprotected no matter how upset he may be

But the two of you kept your distance from each other

EZ gone before you woke up

You leaving his dinner in the microwave and eating before he came home

It was slightly petty, something you both knew, but neither of you wanted to be the first to cave

So when you came home from work tired, aching, and needing comfort, you didn't go to him like you usually would

You stayed to yourself, just planning to work through it alone

EZ could tell as soon as he saw you though

He watched silently as you walked into the house, tossing your favorite purse over onto the counter carelessly

Your keys and phone getting dropped into the dish that you usually so gently placed them in

He watched as you took off your shoes and put down the rest of your stuff, wordlessly taking yourself to the bathroom to take a shower

The Mayan sighed, giving you some time while he contemplated following you in

He was your protector, your guardian, the one that you always depended on

He was the one that looked after you and babied you when you needed it and even when you didn't

But tonight you really needed it, that much was obvious, and he put down the TV remote, following after you

He found you standing at the edge of the bathtub silently, the water full but plain as you stripped down

No bubbles or scents like usual

Just plain clear water, and he ended the 3-day mutual silent treatment

"Don't get in yet. I have your bubbles here."

You turned toward him but said nothing, too tired to even be bratty enough to argue or deny him

He poured from the bottle and then sloshed his hand in the water, bubbles forming from the movement until the top was covered

He looked at you and then motioned to the water, his voice soft

"Get in."

Once again, you did not argue, simply climbing into the warm water and settling in, eyes tired as they looked up at EZ

"Thanks."

EZ nodded and then sat down on the edge of the tub, reaching over to hit the speaker that sat on the shelf, soothing sounds of nature flowing out

"Bad day?"

You only nodded at first, eyes downcast as you played around with the bubbles

"Yeah."

Your voice trembled slightly when you spoke and the sound of it had all traces of irritation leaving EZ's body, his only focus now being to take care of you

He reached for your face and took it in his hand, bringing you to look up at him, cheeks and lips squished

Your eyes were shiny and doe-like as they looked up at him, unable to hide your need for comfort, and just like that he was kneeling down beside the tub, reaching for your soap and your washcloth

"Come closer. Let me clean you up."

You leaned toward him and then sat there motionless, letting him lather you up

By the time he was done, you were nearly asleep, the water now cold and he gently stroked your chin to wake you up

"Let's get you out, baby. Come on."

You nodded and stood, words not coming easily to you in your state

EZ rinsed you off and then helped you climb out, wrapping you in your favorite fluffy towel and walking with you to the bedroom

Holding out your new panties for you to step into, sliding your pjs onto your body, slipping your cozy socks onto your bare feet

With you ready, his hands made their way down to rest on your hips, his eyes full of the warmth and tenderness you were used to

"Let's go make something quick for dinner. Whatever you want. Just no sweets; you need something balanced."

You laughed softly as your idea of french toast was shot down immediately and nodded, following EZ into the kitchen feeling much better already

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa @sadeyesgf @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @all-the-boys-to-the-yard @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @darklingveracruz @appropriate-writers-name @cind-in-real-life @blessedboo @montanaraed @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @redpoodlern @xonickibaby @cruzwalters

EZ taglist

@justazzie @xonickibaby

#ez reyes #ez reyes x reader #mayans mc #wouldinclude #headcanons #ez x reader

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

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One of Them Girls

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by @lakamaa12: I have a request.. if you don't want to do it, no worries (or it's been done by another blog and I missed it).I was wondering if you would consider writing something with Angel based around the song One of Them Girls by Lee Brice?

(Part 2 can be found Here)

Warnings: language, alcohol, Angel being the cutie we know he is

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: To the best of my knowledge, no one else has written an Angel fic for this song yet! If you have and I didn’t see it, my bad! But real talk I’ve been obsessed with this song lately and I wanted to write a fic for it so I’m super glad you sent this my way. Hope you enjoy! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @amandinesblogofstuff @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx (If you want to be tagged let me know! xo)

Your roommate had been trying for months to get you to go to one of the MC parties with her. She knew them from working at Vicki’s and she swore that you would have a good time if you just came to the clubhouse with her.

“Just for a couple hours,” she pleaded as she stood in the doorway to your room, “and if you’re really not having a good time, we can leave and I’ll never bother you about it again. Promise.”

You sighed, leaning your head back against your headboard, “Fine. Just so you won’t bother me about it anymore.”

She beamed, “Yes! Oh this is gonna be so fun,” you could practically see the thoughts racing through her head, “Wear those skinny jeans that make your butt look good.”

You groaned, “You’re gonna dress me, too?”

She laughed, “It’s just a friendly suggestion.”

It was a suggestion that you begrudgingly took her up on. She really wasn’t that pushy about what to wear, but she knew that she was able to nudge you out of your comfort zone a little bit sometimes. You’d ended up with a simple, low-cut black tank top, the jeans she had suggested, and a pair of black boots. You weren’t going to risk snapping your ankle in a pair of heels when you didn’t know what you’d be walking into.

Elena may have been persistent, but she was a woman of her word. She stayed by you when you first arrived, knowing the scene was a little overwhelming when you first walk into it. You weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting, but this wasn’t quite what you had pictured in your mind. It was a little tamer, a little less chaotic than your brain had been telling you it would be.

“C’mon,” she tugged you towards the bar, “I’ll get you a beer.”

“Elena, who are all these people?” you asked quietly as you scanned the room.

She started pointing out the members of the MC one by one, telling you their names and a few fun facts about each. Some of the facts were a little more information than you cared to know, but she got you to laugh. Some of the girls you recognized because they’d come over and hang out at your apartment sometimes, and it was nice to know that you knew more than just one person at the party. They said there was power in numbers, right?

“Hey, querida,” a voice piped up from behind the two of you.

Elena turned, a smile instantly spreading across her face as she walked up to the man who had been speaking to her and letting him scoop her up in a hug, “Angel, hey!”

He set her down and his eyes found their way over to you. You felt small under the weight of his gaze but you tried not to let it show. He glanced back to Elena, “You brought a friend?”

She laughed, nodding, “Angel, this is my roommate, and best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Angel, the biggest pain in the ass in the MC.”

He placed a hand over his chest, an exaggeratedly pained expression on his face, “Right to my heart.”

The three of you laughed and you shook your head slightly, the nerves beginning to dissipate a little bit. You weren’t expecting him to plop down on the stool next to yours, but he did. You looked over to Elena, as if to ask if you should be worried about anything. She flashed you a smile as she sat down on the other side of you, giving your arm a light, reassuring squeeze as she reached for her drink.

“So what questionable decisions led you here tonight?” he asked with a laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Just throwing Elena a bone. She’s been wanting me to come here with her for a while.”

“Didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of degenerates?” there was a playful smirk on his face.

You smiled, ��More like I didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of people in general,” you laughed, “I’m a bit of a homebody.”

“I’m working on that,” Elena piped in with a smile.

The three of you sat at the bar and talked for a little while. You could tell that Angel was trying to get a read on you, the new girl. You couldn’t be mad because you were doing the same thing to him. He was smooth, flirtatious, but not overbearingly so. That was a game you’d be willing to play for the night while you pacified your friend. If you were going to be forced to socialize, there were worse people to look at while doing it.

Elena must’ve gotten the vibe from you, because she politely excused herself from the conversation, letting you know that she wouldn’t be far if you decided that you wanted to bail and go home. You saw the smirk tugging at her lips as she walked away though, knowing that you were having a much better time there than you’d ever admit.

“So I gotta know,” Angel asked as he idly toyed with the beer bottle in his hands, “how does a homebody like you end up rooming with Miss “Life of the Party” Elena?”

You laughed, trying not to stare at the way his ringed fingers traced and curled around the neck of his beer bottle, “We actually had a few classes together our first year in college,” you shook your head, “Nothing bonds two people together like suffering through statistics classes together.”

He chuckled, “Fuck that.”

“That was exactly how we felt.”

The longer the two of you talked, the more he tested his boundaries. He wasn’t pushy, or inappropriate, but he was definitely trying to figure out what made you tick. You weren’t going to give him that kind of satisfaction so quickly, though. You bantered back and forth with him, and you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had you laughing so hard.

Angel was in the middle of an incredibly cheesy pickup line that he swore has worked for him before when the song coming through the speakers changed. You couldn’t help but to perk up a little bit at the familiar beat and Angel noticed the shift immediately. He watched you for a moment as he tried to feel out the situation.

“Wanna dance?”

You shook your head no with zero hesitation, “No thank you.”

He laughed, “C’mon, why not? Live a little.”

You smiled but didn’t move to get up from your stool, “I’m sure there are plenty of women here tonight that would love to dance with you, Angel.”

He didn’t push the topic any further. You were smiling but he could see the flash of emotion in your eyes and he knew that there was something there that you weren’t ready to tap into yet with him. So, instead, he got you another beer and delved back into his cheesy pickup line story. When you realized that he was going to move past what you just said and not make it awkward, the tension immediately melted out of your body. You gladly took the beer bottle from him as you listened him ramble into another story.

“Yo, Angel,” Coco called from the pool table, “get over here. Bring your friend, we need two more.”

“You play pool?” Angel asked you, curious to your answer.

You shrugged as you hopped off the stool, “I mean I know how to.”

He laughed as he followed you across the clubhouse, “That’s not a super reassuring answer, querida.”

“Man, fuck him. You can be on my team,” Coco said with a laugh, “He and Gilly can fend for themselves.”

There was something reassuring and welcoming about the way that Coco spoke to you—like he had known you for years. He handed you your pool stick, smile still plastered onto his face. This wasn’t how you had originally pictured your night going, but you weren’t upset about it.

About halfway through the game, Angel was pissed that he didn’t try to team up with you. You and Coco were on a hot-streak and he really didn’t expect that from you. He shook his head as you sank another shot, and you had to laugh at the way that Coco was able to effectively gloat with just a simple look thrown Angel’s way.

“I mean I know how to,” Angel mocked you with a laugh as he shook his head, watching you line up to take another shot, “Can’t believe you fuckin’ hustled me.”

You laughed, “I don’t think you can call it hustling if there’s no money involved. You’re just mad because we’re about to whoop your ass.”

He chuckled and glanced over at Coco, “Don’t look so smug, Coco. She’s fuckin’ carrying you right now.”

The game wrapped up quickly with you and Coco both doing so well. Gilly had been more than content to sit back and watch it all happen, reveling in the fact that someone, and someone new at that, was kicking Angel’s ass at pool. Angel was shaking his head as he set his stick aside, still trying to figure out how all of that just happened. For someone who claimed that they didn’t like going out and doing things, you seemed to be full of surprises.

“Since I am a gracious winner,” you said with a laugh as you let Coco put your stick away, “I’ll buy you all a drink.”

Angel went to protest, not wanting you to be buying anything for any of them, but Gilly slapped his chest to stop him. The look on Gilly’s face made it very evident that no matter how cute the girl was, none of them were about to be turning down free drinks. Angel laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

As the night wore on, slowly but surely people began to trickle out of the clubhouse. You hadn’t really talked to Elena since you got wrapped up playing pool with the guys, but the two of you kept an eye on one another. Every now and then she’d shoot you a look, one that asked if you needed to get out, and you would just shake your head. She’d smile, sometimes throw you a wink, before getting wrapped back up into whatever she was doing. You knew that she was just glad to get you out of the house and socializing with people.

You and Angel were sitting next to each other on the couch talking, keeping your conversation low in the midst of music and noise still filling the clubhouse. You were shaking your head at him as he told you about some of the scrapes he’d gotten into with his brother, someone that you knew you’d also love to sit and have a conversation with eventually.

Elena walked up and gave you a nudge, smiling when you turned to her, “Not trying to rush you, but I think a couple of the girls and I are gonna head out. You want me to bring you home before I go with them?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to leave. But she was your ride, so it wasn’t like you were going to have much of a choice. Just as you were about to speak up and say you’d get ready to leave, Angel interrupted, “I can take you home if you want.”

You glanced back at him, arching one eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yea,” he shrugged, smiling, “I don’t mind.”

Elena bit at her bottom lip, trying to fight back a smile, “You good with that, Y/N?”

You nodded, “Yea, I think so,” you laughed, “Worst case scenario I have pepper spray in my bag.”

“Jesus,” Angel laughed.

Elena shook her head with a grin as she leaned down to kiss your cheek, “Text me when you’re home. Love you.”

“Love you too. Text when you get to wherever the hell you guys are all going,” you chuckled.

“Will do,” she turned and hugged Angel, “Get her home safe, or I’ll beat your ass.”

He nodded, trying hard not to laugh because he knew that she was serious, “Yes ma’am.”

When she was gone and it was just the two of you again, things felt a little different. You suddenly became very aware of the way that his arm was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers almost brushing against your shoulder. Despite the number of people that were still in the clubhouse, it felt like it was just you two left. Everything else felt farther away.

“Can I ask where you’re from?” he leaned in a little closer to you and took a sip of his beer, “Because I feel like you’re not from around here.”

You smiled, shaking your head, “I’m not. I’m from the East Coast—came out this way for college,” you laughed, “Very cliché, I know.”

“Ah, you’re one of them girls, huh?”

“Who are them girls?” you chuckled.

“Had to get the hell outta dodge?”

You smiled and nodded, not really wanting to get into the details of your decisions, “Something like that.”

“You musta broke a lot of hearts when you left,” there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed, “Wouldn’t know—haven’t been back to find out.”

Somewhere along the line of your conversation, the two of you had gotten very comfortable. You had your legs pulled up underneath you as you leaned into him, his hand resting lightly on the nape of your neck. Every now and then when you laughed your hand would come to rest on his thigh for a moment or two before you pulled it back to your own body. He wasn’t bold enough to say it but he wished that you’d leave it there.

There was a brief lull in the conversation and you looked around the clubhouse, seeing that the two of you were some of the last people there. You checked your phone, seeing that you had gotten the safety update from your roommate almost an hour before and hadn’t noticed from being so enthralled with Angel.

“You got that look on your face like you gotta get going,” Angel said knowingly.

You sighed, “Yea, unfortunately I still have to go and do life stuff tomorrow,” there was a hint of laughter to your voice.

His thumb traced idly along the exposed skin at the base of your neck, “We can take the bike, if you want.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment, “I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He chuckled as he rose to his feet, helping you to do the same, “Something tells me you’ll be fine.”

The two of you walked out of the clubhouse, Angel’s hand settling on the small of your back. The chilly night air hit your skin and sent a chill through you. Without a second thought, Angel peeled off his sweatshirt that he’d put on and handed it over to you. You started to shake your head no but he wordlessly pushed the hoodie into your hands. You gave in with a smile, pulling it down over your head. It was warm, and you were practically swimming in the fabric, but you didn’t mind.

He let you use his helmet, and you settled behind him after climbing onto the bike. Your hands were lightly resting on his waist and he pulled your arms tighter around him, causing you to press flush up against his back.

“Don’t be shy, querida,” he chuckled, “For your own safety as much as anything else.”

You laughed, thankful that he couldn’t see the sheepish smile on your face as you let your body rest against his. The bike came to life underneath you and you nervously wrapped your arms a little tighter around him, and you could feel him laughing despite the fact that you couldn’t hear him over the noise of the bike.

Slowly you eased into the ride, your nerves subsiding a little bit. Angel must’ve felt the tension dissipating because he picked up the speed a little bit, causing you to laugh and tighten your hold on him. You knew that Angel knew the way to yours and Elena’s apartment, so you knew that he was taking the long way there. As much as you wanted to call him out on it, you didn’t want him to think that you minded. It was a peaceful, freeing feeling to be riding with him.

He rolled to a stop in front of your apartment building. You hopped off the bike, handing him back his helmet. The two of you stood there and you knew that he could feel the same type of tension in the air that you felt. For a night that you really hadn’t been looking forward to, it was the best time that you’d had in a while.

You went to take his sweatshirt off to give back to him but he shook his head at you, “Nah, keep it.”

“You sure?”

He nodded with a smirk on his face, “Yea. Just give it back next time I see you.”

You smiled, “Next time? Who said I’m coming back to the clubhouse?”

He laughed and shook his head, “Damn, you and Elena are both out to keep my ego in check, huh?”

“It’s good for you,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the fact that you felt nervous, trying to figure out how to say goodnight.

“But really,” he stepped in a little closer to you, forcing you to tilt your head up slightly to look him in the eye, “I’d really like to be able to see you again.”

You managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds, just long enough to make him nervous. You could see him racing to try and come up with a follow-up statement to get himself out of being rejected, and you let yourself smile as you nodded, “I’d like that.”

He let out an audible sigh of relief, “Had me worried for a second,” he chuckled.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Can’t make it too easy for you.”

He smiled, “Can I have your number? Or do I gotta level up for that?”

You rolled your eyes as you held your hand out, “Give me your phone before I change my mind.”

He chuckled as he dug it out of his pocket and pressed it into the palm of your hand. He watched you intently as you plugged your number in, smiling as you handed it back to him, “This your real number? Or one of those rejection hotlines?”

You smirked, “Guess you’ll have to call me and find out. One time I gave some dude the number that would just play the John Cena theme song over and over again. That was…peak rejection.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring for me, you get that, right?” he laughed.

You smiled and shook your head, “It’s my real number, promise,” you stood up on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Thanks for bringing me home.”

He couldn’t hide that he was surprised by the gesture. A huge smile spread across his face as he nodded, “Yea, any time.”

“Get home safe.”

He nodded, “I will,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trapping the heat against your body as you watched him get back on his bike and strap his helmet on. He flashed you another smile and you waved him off.

You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned around and made your way into your building. The walk up to your apartment seemed much shorter as you replayed the night over in your head. You turned the key in the lock and stepped in, glad to be home but simultaneously wishing that the night wasn’t over yet. You showered and threw your pajamas on, falling into your bed with a happy sigh. After shutting the light off and settling in underneath your blanket, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You reached over to see who it was, and smiled when you saw a message waiting for you from a new number.

“Home safe. Sweet dreams” after a few seconds a second text came in, “It’s Angel by the way”

You chuckled as you typed out your reply, ‘Thanks for the clarification. Got worried for a second”

“Just tryna be sweet and you can’t let me have it, can you?”

“Nope” you were laughing in the quiet darkness of your room.

“Alright. Sweet nightmares then. Goodnight”

You could picture his face and you couldn’t stop smiling, “Goodnight xo”

You set your phone off to the side again, settling back down underneath your covers. Your body wanted to sleep but your brain was too busy replaying the entire night over again and you couldn’t stop smiling.

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