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skinnyazn · 9 months

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I Will Not Ask and Neither Should You

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader (Jaguar) Chapters: 2/3 Notes: inspired by Hozier's Like Real People Do, Jag Backstory unlocked!!!

Part One | Part Three | AO3 | MASTERLIST Why were you digging? / What did you bury Before those hands pulled me / From the earth? I will not ask you where you came from / I will not ask and neither should you

___

You were in the kitchen getting water for the both of you when the message came in.

55.7249º N, 37.5541º E. Tuesday, 14:00.

The +7 country code made a cold sweat break over your body. Russia. You didn’t know how the sender got your number, but if it was who you thought, they would have their ways. All you could do was stare at your phone as your heart hammered through your chest.

“Everything al’right?”

You hadn’t even noticed Simon come up behind you.

“Mmhmm,” you managed, passing him a glass of water as you set your phone screen-down on the counter. You lowered your head onto your arms, resting them on the surface to hide your face while you backed your nakedness against the colossus of a man. A raspy grunt was his response.

“Dangerous, Jag,” Simon warned, but closed the gap all the same. He kissed your shoulders and back, setting down the glass of water next to your phone. “Heart’s racin’,” he murmured against your skin as his hands smoothed down to your hips. “Can hear it from ‘ere.”

“You have that effect on me.” It wasn’t a lie—not usually. But at present, the contents of the text message were still etched into your brain. You felt like throwing up.

“Thought you needed a break, luv.”

“Changed my mind,” you tried your best to even your voice, but it still came out shaky.

Ghost’s hands stilled on your hips as he paused. “We don’t ‘ave to—”

“Need you, Simon,” you interrupted, raising your head to look back at him while snaking his tattooed hand up and around your neck.

Dark eyes glinted in the low light, looking at the phone on the counter, then searching yours for a moment—for an out, a reason. But all they found was benediction. He tightened his grip around your throat and kissed you softly.

When your beautiful man was finally asleep, sound and unsuspecting, you hated yourself for exploiting his weaknesses. For knowing that he got sloppy around you in this domestic setting; that he slept deeper—you both did—after a few rounds. That he knew you’d get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or refill your water.

You slipped out of the warm bed, packing as quietly as you could—shoving your life with Simon “Ghost” Riley into your black duffel. Hating yourself more as you scribbled on the back of a receipt and set it down next to his mask.

Something I have to do.

You looked at him one last time—perhaps for the final time. His blonde hair was exposed, his ultimate layer of trust in you; you watched his scared back softly rise and fall as he slept. Numbness ran through your body at stupidity of thinking you’d finally escaped your past. Cut all the ties. That you naively thought you had built something here, too. People in your line of work never get happy endings. Your throat tightened as you slipped through the front door, locking it behind you. Your cab was already gone by the time he woke.

______

Moscow was frigid and covered in a light dusting of snow when you landed. And all those memories of a life left behind seeped back up from their well of suppression on the cab ride to the coordinates. It seemed like a lifetime ago. In a way, it was. There was a split in the road then, where you made a choice. One that lead you to San Francisco and to Kokshetau and to Leeds. One where you chose your life.

Yet here you were, back in the cold and snow—despair growing in the pit of your stomach with each mile passed. You worried your jaguar pendant between gloved fingers.

The cab stilled in front of large bronze doors, now a dull green after centuries of oxidation.

Новодевичье кладбище: Novodevichy Cemetery.

You paid the fare and got out, duffel slung over your shoulder. There were tourists and locals alike visiting the historic cemetery. It made you even more on edge as you entered through the double doors. You were too vulnerable out here in the open.

Checking your watch, you were thirty minutes early, giving you enough time to scope out the location. It calmed you some, passing by the beautiful tombstones and monuments of Russia’s most notable and respected citizens. Anton Chekhov, Vera Mukhina, Lyudmila Gurchenko. Pristine marble and greying stone and wet concrete. It was an odd location for a meeting but you hoped with all the people around you could let your guard down a little. You wandered through the maze of the deceased. But then you saw it: a mound of freshly laid earth and an ornate marble bust. You stopped completely. Felt your heart stuck in your throat and a flush of heat to your face. Your hands went numb as you just stared.

Vladislava Ignatyev.

The thread that lead you to where you were now. In memory you heard the gentle clink of a tea cup and the soft rustling of a maid’s dress.

You’d make a fine spy one day, my beautiful Odette.

That your wish or mine?

Neither. It’s your nature, dear. The same way a fish takes to water or a swan flight.

…

You can give me that look but you know I’m right. You were a caged, pretty little thing when I discovered you. And now you’ve grown majestically into your true nature. Just remember who gave you your wings when you are enjoying your freedom. My door will always be open for you…

The marble bust on the cold floor did the older woman no justice. It failed to capture her elegance and the magnitude of her character. You’d learned so much from her. Vladislava was a woman who silenced a room when she entered, through no other means than just being her. And now she was in the cold ground beneath you. Beauty and stature decaying. You wanted to cry but the tears would not come.

“It’s you…”

The gentle voice snapped you to the present again. Standing across from you was a handsome man, with blonde, wavy hair falling to frame his young face. His blue eyes took you in.

You inhaled deeply. “Dimitri.”

He smiled and you felt a tightness in your chest.

“I…I was not sure you would come.” Low chatter from the other visitors passing by filled the silence as you took each other in. His smile grew wider. “You look so different, and yet exactly how I remember you.”

“And you’ve grown,” you found yourself returning the smile slightly. Dimitri shifted on his feet, like he wanted to take your hand like he used to, but knowing that too much time had passed. You continued, “Surprised you even recognized me.”

He looked at you kindly and chuckled. “You weren’t always in ballet attire, my lisIchka. The short hair suits you though.”

You ran your gloved fingers through your choppy hair, recalling the muscle memory that had sleeked it into a taught bun countless times in the past—not a flyway in sight. Streamline. Efficient. Orderly. Your true nature.

Dimitri stepped around the grave so that he was facing it too, the both of you staring at the bust on the floor.

“We were just kids, then, weren’t we?”

You hummed. “You more-so.” You sucked in a breath. “When did she pass?”

“Last week. A stroke. It was so sudden—she had been in perfectly good health," his voice wavered slightly. “I was the one who found her in her bed in the morning. She just looked like she was sleeping...”

The statue’s hollowed eyes stared into nothingness. You had to look away, so you looked up at Dimitri. “I owe your mother a lot. I… I’m sorry I never came back,” you paused, studying the side of his face. He must be twenty six now—a decade gone in the blink of an eye; all those memories of the two of you when you were younger filtered back. You steadied your breath. “But I had to experience the world for myself.”

The younger man turned to you. “I understand. Never could keep you caged. No one could.”

You smiled but it didn’t meet your eyes. Nostalgia was a deceiver.

Dimitri cleared his throat. “There is another reason I asked you here, though. Something I have for you. From Vladislava.”

He reached into his wool peacoat and procured a long velvet box. Hesitating, you reached for the it, staring at the plain box in your hands before opening it.

It was the necklace that Vladislava had worn the night you first met: a massive canary diamond choker, surrounded by ornate gold and diamonds. You recalled the burning in your legs as you took your closing bow for the Vaganova Ballet Academy, peering into the crowd and seeing a glint of yellow among the blur of the audience. She’d come to you after, as you were removing all the feathers and makeup backstage. Introduced herself. You had no idea her influence at the time; you were only eighteen. But soon you were living with her. Wandering her massive estate with Dimitri. Being her eyes and ears at events with the most affluent; sometimes the most corrupt as well. Learning all you could from her as you started down a completely different path than when you first moved to Russia.

The significance of the necklace wasn’t lost on you as you stared down at the gorgeous piece. You closed the box quietly.

“I can’t take this, Dima,” you passed the box back to him, but he didn’t move. He just looked down at you, fondness in his eyes at the familiarity of his moniker. He wrapped his hands over yours.

“I'm afraid you don’t have a choice, lisIchka. It was in her will.” His hands stayed for a moment, then fell back to his side.

You simply stared at the box.

“You know,” he said softly, moving slightly closer to you, “there’s always a place for you here. In Moscow. At our home.”

And for a moment, the sun peaked through the grey day, alighting Dima’s golden hair. But when you looked at him, all you saw was Simon and his flat and the rain and his warmth. You gave a sad smile.

“Ah,” he said, understandingly.

You reached out and took his hand, running your gloved-thumb over his knuckles. “In another life, perhaps.”

He squeezed back. “I’ll look for you, then.”

You heart hurt at the whole situation. Vladislava was a force, now extinguished. And a childhood crush had clearly become something more. You held onto him for a while longer, then finally let go of his hand.

“Well, you must be exhausted from your travels,” Dima looked around. The oppressive sky was continuing to lighten. “To be honest I wasn’t sure you would even come, but I reserved a room for you at the Kempinski anyway. Stay as long as you need.”

You tucked the box into you jacket and looked at the younger man one last time, reaching up to touch his face. “Thank you for everything, Dima.” He leaned into your caress. “Take care of yourself.”

“And you.”

You gave a final glance at the grave, then left, not looking back. ______

Dima bb we're so sorry T^T Thanks for the wait, one more chapter to go! if you'd like to be (un)tagged for updates let me know! @deadbranch @solidly-indulgent @aalxrose @dotcie

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faecaptainofdreams · 1 year

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~Through the Nomad’s Eyes~

“It's not terribly often.

A few times a month, I'd say -- sometimes less.

Depends how much trouble I get in.

Day is dark with smoke, my vision is full of embers.

My eyes burn, the fires are hot.

Birds chirpin', people talkin' is replaced with screams.

Tall, proud buildings are suddenly collapsing.

I hear children cryin'...

I see dirt roads and pavement painted red.

Stalls and homes fall to stone and ash.

The smell is...indescribable.

Those screams...

It's unbelievable, what...godless sounds come out of a person, when they're bein' burned and mangled...

Or shot...

Or trampled...

Or crushed by debris...

The ground shakes, glass shatters.

It's pure chaos, but it's only a second.

Then, I blink my eyes...

And it's all over.

And my heart stops racin', and the ice in my veins melts.

'N I'm okay.

This doesn't usually happen when I'm somewhere peaceful.

Naw, it's usually when I'm gettin' myself into trouble helpin' folks.

Wherever there's a fire, when I hear screamin', when there's panic.

It affected me worse when I was younger, but I've learned how to push through it now.

It helps to remind myself that it's over, but...I know it'll always be with me.

I'll always be haunted by that day.

By the screams, and...by them gettin' quieter...

By the blood.

By the ash, the flames, the rumblin' of the earth.

By the empty vessels I climbed over -- bodies, people.

People someone loved.

Mothers.

Fathers.

Babies...

I'll always see those faces; sometimes when I close my eyes, they're lookin' back at me, hollow.

I knew some'a them...

People who took care'a me.

That day is the reason I look back, why I can't stay out'a harm's way.

Because I know what happens when hearts grow dark, what hurt and twisted people do to other people.

Maybe I can make a difference, maybe I can't, but I gotta try.

I want to prove that love, that patience and time, can change fate, can tame temper.

I know what it means to be helpless, and when I see someone else livin' that, it makes me ill.

I know that hurt people hurt people, that someone failed them, too.

When I see disaster, I gotta run to it.

I'm sorry...

But I gotta.

Because if I do nothin' even though I had the chance, then it's my fault.

It's not rational, but don't ask me to change...'cos I can't...

Don't feel sad for me, now.

In my heart, I really feel...good.

Yes, I hurt a lot, and I feel guilty.

I punish myself when I can't save somebody.

Sometimes I don't love myself like I should, I don't take care'a me.

Sometimes I think, "It shoulda been me."

Sometimes I feel...worthless...but I really know better.

If I didn't, I wouldn't feed and take care'a myself like I do, and play and have fun, right?

I like livin', I like bein' happy.

...

If I run into danger, and someone comes out alive or better off on the other end because of it, I've succeeded.

If I run into danger and all that happens is I got a whoopin', well...reckon I had it comin'.

Who am I to say what's what?

But yeah, generally, I feel good.

Minus the memories, the nightmares sometimes, I often sleep real good at night.

I can smile, and laugh play and sing and see what's beautiful in life.

This life is painful, and scary, but it's also miraculous.

We're all here on a whim; the odds of us existing are so against us, and yet here we stand.

A universe, cold and empty and quiet, full'a nothin'...

It's such a divine gift to be here, to learn and think and share life with others.

To make new life, to lay down past life, to cry and grow and nurture.

All from the same place, from dust to dust, to one day all return to that same place.

Ooh, it makes my hair stand up!

Doesn't it you?

I see fire...

I see blood...

I see death...

But when that passes, I see joy, and nature, and all of us together.

I see life blooming, new beginnin's unfolding.

I see us learning from what we live through.

The past haunts me, but I won't live in it.

I'll just look back at it -- and that's okay.

It's okay to look back.

I'll just let it inspire me.

Don't try to turn my head when ya see me lookin' over my shoulder.

It'll release me when it's done."

#wander over yonder #woy #woy fanart #ptsd #no that isnt Harvax LOL #just his species though #more to come on the species later

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yopossum · 2 months

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Kindred Spirits - 3

Main Masterlist - Part 2

Part 3 of the Professor Jack Daniels x Reader miniseries for @secretelephanttattoo’s Secret Springs Creative Challenge 🥃🤠

Rating: M

Warnings: Alcohol, drinking, brief discussion of loss of spouse and unborn child, grief, flirting, innuendo

—————————

The night was warm and lovely, and twinkling string lights criss crossed over the cobbled road, casting everything in a soft glow. You wandered aimlessly, enjoying the quaint surroundings, until you came to a small, cozy-looking bar that opened to the street, several stools slid up underneath and a few tables and chairs scattered about. Soft bluesy music played from a speaker inside, and the people drinking at the tables wore easy smiles and laughed heartily. You slid up to the counter and ordered an old fashioned (with Jack Daniels, please, you’d requested), tipped the bartender generously, then found an empty table. You sipped at your drink, savoring the sweet burn on your tongue, and closed your eyes and let your head fall back, content.

“Well, if it isn’t my star student,” lilted a rich, familiar voice.

You sat up to find Jack Daniels himself looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, pink lips drawn into a crooked smirk. Had they been that plump this afternoon? He still wore his Stetson, but had traded the suit for a white tee shirt, a black leather jacket with an upturned tan suede collar, and criminally snug dark jeans. You blinked back your initial surprise, settled into an expression you hoped looked a little more relaxed despite the pang of want that poked at your insides.

“If it isn’t Dr. Daniels,” you replied, running a finger around the rim of your glass.

He clucked his tongue. “Now, I believe I told you to call me Jack, did I not?” He went to pull out the other chair at the table, but paused, looking at you with question.

You nodded, and he sat down, stretching his legs out under the table and slouching back comfortably. “You did. Having a nice night, Jack?” you snickered.

He raised his own glass to you, whiskey neat. “Am now, darlin’, thanks to present company.” You hoped the flush of your face wasn’t too obvious in the dim light, just hummed in return.

“So, I take it this whole… energy… isn't a gimmick for the storytelling gig, then?” you asked, gesturing generally at Jack. You were curious, a little loosened by the drink, and hoped you didn’t sound rude.

He snorted, amused. “‘Fraid not, honey. Just Jack.” He took a long drink of his whiskey.

You toyed with the straw in your glass. “So you’re a real life cowboy, then?”

“I am, believe it or not. Have a couple dozen acres of woods and pasture in Louisville, some horses, small farm. Spent a lot of time ropin’ and racin’ in my younger days. Livin’ a bit more slowly now, though.”

You nodded. “Same. Well, not same. I’m not a cowboy, obviously.”

“Coulda fooled me with that Loretta Lynn shirt and whiskey habits,” whistled Jack. “Y’ got good taste.”

“Cheers to that,” you snorted, reaching across the table to clink his glass. “I meant the living slow part. That’s why I was at your lecture earlier, why I’m out alone now. Girls I’m with are a rowdy bunch. I raised some hell in my youth, but my time is a lot more limited and precious now, you know? I want to spend it doing shit that fills me up.” You cackled, then, shaking your head. “And, ideally, I’d like to remember it and not wake up sick or injured or in jail.”

“Amen.” Jack emptied his glass and sat it on the table, thick fingers tapping the sides absently. “I think I’ll have another. D’ya mind the company? If you’re keen, it’d be a great privilege to buy your next drink.” He seemed almost bashful, braggadocio thinned in the moment. “‘Course, you can always tell this old cowboy to fuck off,” he added.

Oh, Lord, I’m keen. I’m keen as hell. I’m the keenest anybody has ever been. I’m the fucking queen of keen.

“I guess I could do another, sure. I’ll have what you’re having.”

He beamed and excused himself from the table to order another round, and you resisted your body’s urge to scream and fling your arms around in excitement like Kermit the Frog. By the time Jack returned to the table, you’d collected yourself (slightly).

“Kingsman whiskey. Local distillery, makes me feel close to home.” He sat the glasses down in front of you and gestured for you to pick yours up. You complied, raising your glass and giving him a soft smile, which he mirrored. It was delicious, and with each sip, smile, and chuckle, you found yourself falling into deep, rapt conversation with your twangy table mate.

“May I be frank with you, sugar?” God knows how much time had passed when Jack leaned forward on his forearms, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in a way that reminded you of a puppy.

“You may.”

“I was dreadin’ this whole damn thing. Secret Springs, the travel, the talk, all of it. Almost pulled out last minute.” He sighed, lifting his chin skyward and looking up into the night. “Booked it thinkin’ I needed to just push through some shit and get on with it; pretty much immediately regretted that.”

Your eyebrows wrinkled with concern at the previously cocky Jack Daniels, looking suddenly forlorn and vulnerable. You weren’t sure how to respond, but your hand moved of its own volition, reaching across the table again and coming to rest on his wrist. He glanced down at where you made contact, then back up to your face. You blanched, thinking you overstepped, and let go, but he swiftly stopped you from pulling away with his free hand. “No, no. It’s… I’d like it if y’ kept it there. It’s a comfort.” So, you left it.

“My wife wanted to come to a place like this for our honeymoon.”

You tried to hide the shock on your face, loosing your hand from his wrist again. A fucking wife?!

You must not have done a good job, because Jack looked up at you with weary eyes and chuckled humorlessly. “S’not what you’re thinkin’, sugar. That was a long time ago.” He sighed into his empty glass.

“You’re divorced?”

“Widowed.”

Oh shit. “Jack, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… God.”

“Nah, he ain’t bothered with me for a while,” Jack huffed. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. Twenty years, this year. Lost her and our baby, caught a stray bullet from a couple of junkies stickin’ up a convenience store.”

Your already fractured heart shattered for him then. For the third time that night, you reached for Jack, taking both his hands in yours, silently bridging the gulf of the table between you. “It reminds you of her? Being here?” you asked quietly. He nodded, a slow sad smile on his lips.

“It does. She woulda loved it. We were just young and broke and dumb in love when we got hitched, and then she got pregnant right away, so we never made good on the honeymoon. She deserved it, though. Wish I’d been able to give her more than she got.” Jack pursed his lips thoughtfully, looked like he might say something, but swallowed it back.

You paused before responding. “Sounds like you were lucky to love her, Jack. I’m sorry you lost her. Lost them both. That’s…” Your filter was still a little fuzzed with drink. “That’s so fucked up.”

Jack, shocked, threw his head back and barked a surprised laugh. “Y’know what, honey? It really is fucked up. I appreciate you not sugarcoatin’ it or some nonsense. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten empty platitudes over the years. They’re in a better place and that shit.” His nostrils flared with frustration.

You snorted. “Bull fucking shit.”

“Exactly, darlin’. Exactly.”

“Tell me about her.”

Jack’s eyes widened, confused.

“I mean, if you want. You don’t have to, it’s none of my business.” Stop talking. Stop talking. Just stop talking. “Just, if you want to talk about her, I’d like to know about her, about your family. Sorry…”

“No, no, sweetheart. No apologies necessary. I’d… well, I’d love to, truly.” Jack’s eyes glimmered, damp, streetlights reflecting in the dark brown of them. “Y’ caught me by surprise, but not in a bad way. Folks jus’ want to gloss over it and move past the whole thing. Makes most uncomfortable.”

You shrugged. “Not me. Tell me about the love of your life, storyteller.”

So, he did. The young, hopeful rodeo rider falling for the homecoming queen. The scrimping and saving from odd jobs around town to buy the only ring they could afford at the pawn shop. The small wedding in the community center, everybody sticky with sweat and gulping down paper cups of punch. Patchwork scrap quilts spread proudly over a creaky bed. Disastrous casserole attempts in the kitchen of a small mobile home. Cold bags of frozen peas pressed over dusty bruises, whispered admonishments to either get on a horse and stay put or get off for good. The soft swell of a round belly under a broad, rough palm. A porch swing’s squeaking chains a metronome in the humid evenings, two (and change) bodies pressed snug together.

Jack had loved, and been loved, well. And rather than the lick of jealousy or envy, you felt… welcomed. He was a gifted storyteller, you knew already, and he was charming, which was undeniable. But what you saw as he shared, as he granted you access to his world with bright eyes and a broad smile and an ache in his soul, was that Jack Daniels had a depth you’d never imagined lay under the hat (or the juit). No, he was something altogether new to you. Smooth, sweet, refreshing, warming you all the way through. Like his namesake, indeed.

The sharp scrape of metal against stone dragged your attention from your table mate. You realized suddenly that everybody else had left the small bar besides you and Jack, and the bartender was busying himself cleaning around you and stacking chairs, clearly trying to give you a respectful hint to please leave. “Sorry!” you hissed to him with a frantic wave, and grabbed for your bag under the table.

You turned back to Jack to see him already standing and pushing his own chair in. Rounding the table, he offered you an arm, and you pulled yourself to standing, keeping a gentle hand on it after you rose. He pressed a few bills to the tabletop and tipped his hat to the bartender, who nodded in thanks, and the two of you stepped out into the middle of the now empty street.

——————————————

“This was a real pleasure, hon. Thank you for talkin’ with me, lettin’ me reminisce a while. Felt good to remember. Feel better now lookin’ forward.” Jack’s face was soft, relaxed. Affection seeping through his features, he cleared his throat. “Now, may I be so bold as to offer to walk you back to your room?”

“Pleasure was mine. And yeah, that’d be nice, Jack. Let’s…take the long way, though.”

His expression went playfully stoic. “Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, leading you off the main road and down a side street.

“Been a while since I closed down a bar,” you snickered as you passed through buildings and emerged on the outskirts of the town center.

Jack grinned, tilted his head in the direction of a dirt path that appeared to wind through tall grass down along the shoreline. “That so?”

“Mhm. It’s way past my bedtime. I would’ve been curled up in bed with a book hours ago.”

“Well, shucks, it was mighty kind of you to keep a lonesome drunken cowboy distracted while he drowned his sorrows. Didn’t know I was keepin’ you.” His dimple deepened, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You’re surprisingly good company, Dr. Daniels,” you teased.

“Surprisingly?!” He pulled his arm from you, clasped his hands to his chest as if struck, taking exaggerated stumbling steps while you grinned after him. “And here I thought I was doin’ an alright job of charmin’ you.”

You caught up alongside and nudged him with your hip, smirking. “Didn’t say you weren’t, cowboy. Just didn’t know what kind of man was hiding behind that big ol’ mustache. Like I said, I thought it might be put on for the gig.”

“Hah! I’ve always been a bit of a character, that is true. Too much for many.” You’d reached the bluffs, and Jack slowed his steps as he turned to look out at the ocean, moon spilling out over its surface like glitter glue.

You slid to his side and threaded your arm around his waist, and he looked down at you with raised eyebrows and a gentle twist at the corner of his mouth.

“Nah, not too much.”

“You reckon?”

“I do reckon,” you laughed, and pressed your cheek against his chest, your eyes on the water. “I think you’re just right, Jack Daniels.”

“Mm,” he hummed, pressing his nose into your hair. You stood in companionable silence that way for several minutes while your thoughts swirled.

I deserve to have a good time. I want to have a good time. Jack is a good time. Jack is… good.

“Hey Jack?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Where are you staying?”

“Little bed and breakfast, back the way we came. Worried about me makin’ it back all by my lonesome?”

You shoved aside your oh my God what are you thinking instinct and reached out for his hat and pulled it on, cocking your head. “May I be so bold as to offer to walk you back to your room?” you drawled in a goofy imitation of him, smirking.

He put one hand on his hip and ran the other through his now-revealed (very soft-looking, very pullable) hair. “You may, honey. And as much as I’m missin’ my hat, I must admit you look a pretty picture in it. Are you playin’ at bein’ a cowgirl now?” His teeth flashed, smile stretching wide across his face in the moonlight.

“Oh, I know how to ride,” you snarked, low and heated. Holy shit, did I just…? You weren’t sure who was more surprised. Jack cackled and beamed, and in a flash he was grabbing your hand and ushering you back down the path towards town with swift strides.

“Let's hop to it, then, sweetheart, because I’d love to see that.”

You both nearly skipped as you went, sneaking through the night giggling like giddy teenagers. When you poked through between the buildings back by the bar you’d left some time before, approaching the bed and breakfast, Jack leaned in and bumped you softly with his shoulder.

“So, I spilled damn near all my secrets to you earlier tonight. When are you gonna return the favor?” He pointed two fingers in the direction of the front entrance as he talked.

“Hmm,” you mused, bringing a finger to your lips while he guided your bodies to the door and pulled it open. “Guess we’ll have to have another long conversation. You feel like talking when we get to your room?”

Jack laughed and reached for the hand at your mouth, bringing your fingertip to his lips and pressing a soft kiss there. “Sure as hell do not.” Threading his fingers through yours, he led you up a set of stairs to a door and slipped a key from his jeans pocket, turning it in the lock with a soft click. He glanced at you over his shoulder as the door opened slowly, his expression hungry and longing. “Let’s discuss it over breakfast instead, sweet girl,” he husked, pulling you through the door and into his arms.

#yopossum #secretelephanttattoo #secretsprings #agent jack whiskey daniels #jack whiskey daniels #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal character fanfic

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vkelleyart · 2 years

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*deep breath*

It has been such a long and winding road to be able to finally make this post. MANU FACES THE MUSIC will soon be my debut graphic novel, published by one of my favorite publishers, Oni Press. There are so many people to thank for this, chief among them Saritza Hernández who believed in this project from the very first panel, Desiree Rodriguez who saw the need for stories like this and threw her support behind it, Andrew Smart who steered me through the artistic direction of the original comic, and my friend and editor extraordinaire Anna Racine whose input was integral to this outcome and without whom I'm sure this book would still be stuck in my head. And endless thanks, as always, to all of you who have supported the comic from the beginning. I cannot wait to show you where Manu’s adventures take her!

#Manu #manu graphic novel #original work #book deal announcement

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cupidssorbet · 1 year

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“Save a horse, Ride a cowboy.”

Agent whisky x Cowgirl/Rancher Reader.

Summary: Reader assists whisky with a more on edge mission in saving some animals from corrupt people. What happens when things go a bit south after?

Includes: Flirty whisky, Fluff in the beginning, Filth half way through, Hair pulling, Oral (M & F receiving), P in V.

Word count: 2,074

★Please read! ★ This obviously contains smut so you are reading at your own volition! Expect the others coming soon!

By Cupid.

"You two are all set," Ginger spoke, adjusting the strap around your waist giving you a smile. "Thanks Ginge," You hummed, putting the weapon in it's place. "Now where's that cowb-" You let out a squeak as a pair of hands landed on your waist a picked you up. "Right here sugar." Whisky gave you a wink, a toothpick resting between his teeth.

You laughed looking at him, "Though I'd hafta leave without you for a second there." Quickly you reached up and took his hat placing it over your head. "You wouldn't," He stated plain and simple setting you down and taking the hat back. "Alright you two, Let's get movin' The vans waiting for you too." Ginger nodded her head to the doors. "Goodluck."

"Hey, We don't need no luck. We're the best team there is!" You smiled nudging your partner as he gave you his signature smirk and a wink. "In more ways than just work, ain't that right darlin'?" You smacked his chest lightly. "Whisky! Sweet Jesus, let's just go already." You sighed grabbing your own hat & the keys off the desk and heading out a laughing whisky not far behind you.

You both hopped in the van, heading out as fast as the van would allow you too as Ginge began to brief you guys over the headsets. With your eyes focused on the dirt roads ahead and your mind focused on listening to Ginger you failed to notice a hand making it's way onto and up your thigh. "Whisky." You whispered harshly moving his hand away. "What was that?" You cleared your throat, "Nothin' Ginger just thought I saw something." Lying as smoothly as you could giving your partner a harsh look.

All he did was wink and blow you a kiss chuckling to himself as he looked back out the road. "Well then, that's as much as I have for you two. You should be closing in on the place soon. Remember in and out." You both gave her the 'ok' before she gave you the directions of where to put the van for discreetness. "Remember, you two are interested in the horses they've got here. Get pictures, Any evidence. Just don't disrupt anything, with the amount of stuff they could have you ought to be careful. Goodluck." Then with that it was time for you two to get the job done.

You flipped the belt to hide any kind of weaponry, and began your way up to the large farm like area. "State your business here." Two burly men looked down at the two of you. "We're here to look at the extraordinary race horses we've heard so much about, Unless we've got it wrong?" Whiskey asked slyly pulling his sunglasses down to look at the two men. Who in exchange looked at one another, then a rather dazzling dressed man all in a rhinestone cowboy get up opened the doors. "Ah! You must be Mr. Vanholten and Mrs. Heimer. I've been expecting you two." He held out his gloved hands as you two shook them.

You gave whisky a look, Those weren't the name you two would be going along with but it was getting you in quicker. "Come in, We've got the finest racing horses. Only the best!" You looked around, the poor things were in the worst conditions. "How do you get such..strong racin' horses?" Whisky asked, giving you a chance to sneak some pictures and such. "Well between you and me, we've got some outsiders giving us some strong stuff to keep these equines as fast as they are now." The round man before you smiled proudly adjusting his rhinestone coat.

You swear you could've socked him right then and there for practically drugging these horses. "But between you and me.." That's when you hit record hiding it in your sleeve discreetly. "We don't just use it for the horses, if you catch my drift." Whisky's jaw tensed a bit before he nodded. "Well I'll be damned you've got some fine hor-" The doors opened wide as you looked over quickly. "Boss, We've got Mr. Vanholten and Mrs. Heimer. here to look for some new horses." He looked at the man and woman then the two of you. "But I have them right here." He motioned to you two. "Well we've just checked their IDs and they seem to be the real thing." You muttered a quick 'shit.' giving Whisky a look. Taking a quick look around as everything seemed to move in slow motion. A horse not too far from you would be a good way out and fast. There was no way you'd get past the burly men.

"Whisky, Come on!" You grabbed his hand pulling him outta the way of the big men as more came barreling through. Quickly leaping over the metal fence and over the horse. "Sugar we can't just get on and go." He motioned, "Well we hafta!" You hoisted yourself up and over, "Now c'mon." You took his hand and helped him up. With a quick call the horse was up and over, racing towards the now closing metal doors. You kept muttering a 'come on,' One hand holding on tightly to the horses mane as Whisky kept his hands 'round your waist.

With what seemed like luck to you, you made it out on time. The doors shutting on the yelling man. You just kept going, you couldn't stop not until that place was nowhere in sight. "Darlin'! You can stop, You can slow down now!" Whisky called to you, snapping you out have it. You slowed the horse down, letting out a sigh that broke in a laugh. "Whisky I can't believe I did that, I- I did in a spur of the moment kind of situation. There was no way we'd get out to the van and-" He just shushed you, "Hey you got us out of there, as well as one of these poor fellas. I reckon we've got room on the ranch?" You sighed leaning back into him and nodding. "I reckon we do, Now ring up Ginger and tell her we wanna come on home and that we'll need a trailer." He just chuckled kissing your cheek and nodding.-

When you had arrived back Ginger had wanted to do some tests, but it was gettin' late and the poor thing looked more tired by the second. So, you refused for the time being saying that in the morning she could come by and the two of you could get a look at the fella better. You and Whisky brought him back, and Whisky insisted he take the horse for ya and that you should go shower. You sighed and smiled a him taking your hat off and stealing his. "Alright, See you inside Cowboy." You didn't waste time heading inside putting his hat on the bed and getting into the warm shower the water hitting your skin making you feel refreshed.

You grabbed your towel wrapping it around yourself and using another one to dry your hair. Humming a tune as you walked outta the master bedrooms bathroom, your husband sitting on the bed his hat back on his head. Tip toeing over you traced your fingertips along his neck getting his attention. "Well Cowboy I think we did damn good. We at least saved on of those poor things," You sat down beside him.

He looked at you smiling, planting a kiss on your lips. "And I mean..You know what they say, Save a horse, Ride a cowboy." You smirked looking at him pulling your towel to the side exposing your wet body to him. He sighed dramatically taking his hat off and placing it at his chest. "Goodness Sugar, What are you tryin' to do to me." He leaned in kissing you harder, your hands went to finding his shirt and jacket tugging at them. Making him break away to undress. You smiled looking at him through your lashes, biting your lip gently. "You enjoyin' the show over there?" You hummed in response to his question. Sitting back and carefully opening your legs. "Sweet Jesus Darlin', You really are trying to kill me aren't you." He groaned his belt and pants hitting the floor. A prominent tent in his boxers as he leaned forward, his hands clinging to your (skintone) thighs.

Massaging them in his hands, planting kisses everywhere and anywhere but where you wanted him. Desperately. "Whisky, Please." You sighed leaning your head back then looking at him again. "Shh, I'm getting to the best part Honey." He leaned forward his dark eyes focused on yours as he licked a long stripe up your wet pussy. Your hand flew to your mouth. "Ah-Ah, I wanna hear you." He pulled your hand down and away as he brought his fingers to your dripping hole, dipping one in causing you to inhale eyes fluttering. "Ohh whiskyyy.." You dragged it out. "That's it," He smirked into your cunt, licking again as he added another finger in pumping.

It felt like your head was spinning as you cried out, his tongue focusing your clit. making you bite your lip instinctively. It felt too good, too much. The knot in your stomach forming. "Shit, Shit right there Whisky," You sighed out, your hand finding his dark hair. You could swear his smiling into as you continued to cry, your thighs clamping down on his head. Your pussy fluttering around his fingers as you came, your head lolling back,

He hummed and sat up a bit. "Taste as sweet as pie darlin' Can't ever get enough of ya." You pulled him down to kiss you, your tongue on his tasting a bit of yourself. You could feel him grinding his bulge in you. Resting your hands on his rest you pushed him back, "Whisky, come sit." You patted the spot where you were as you got onto your knees on the floor. "Oh darlin' Come on." He chuckled, "I insist, Can't leave me without a snack." You smiled winking at him as he sat before you.

Running your finger tips over the now wet spot in his boxers. Palming him through his boxers. "Shoot sweetheart.." He said breathlessly running a hand over his mouth. You smiled at him making eye contact as you pulled his briefs down your hand flying over running over his tip. He groaned loudly heading leaning back. You leaned forward placing butterfly kisses on his lean and tall cock, before your mouth fully covered as much as you could. Bobbing your head fast then slow, your hand pumping what you couldn't take.

He hissed lightly at the teasing before he murmured a 'Fuck it,' he thrusted up lightly making you gag. His eyes looking at yours through your now watery eyes. You moved faster, your hand fondling him. "Shit, Darlin'." He pulled you off trying not to hurt you. "You did say save a horse, ride a cowboy. Time for the cowboy part." He got you onto the bed making sure you were comfortable.

"Ain't you eag- Oh my!" He drilled into you quick and fast. You noises muffled by the pillows until his hand grabbed hold of your hair bring your head up, a loud 'Ohhh!' coming out and a few mewls and cries. "That's it sugar, be as loud as you want." He leaned forward going deeper, peppering your shoulders and neck in kisses. Before he leaned back pulling out fully causing you to whine then cry out his name again as he went back in starting a steady pace.

"Shit sweetheart..Your so goddamn perfect. I don't think I'm gonna last long." He snaked his other hand away from your hips and to your clit as you held onto the headboard, rubbing slow then fast circles. Your noises becoming louder by the second and more breathless, your pussy walls tightened around him. "Shit- Shit, Whisky..I'm close!" You called out, He nodded fervently. "I am too sugar," his pace picked up and you gripped the headboard as you came, you swore you saw stars for a second there. Snapping back as he pumped into you slowing down.

You let out a breathless laugh, "I wouldn't say that was much riding cowboy." He leaned down letting go of your hair and kissing you pulling out. "Eh, We can save that for another time."

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x female reader #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x reader #kingsman #golden circle #agent whiskey x reader smut #agent whiskey fanfiction #Cupidssorbettlibrary

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 5 months

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Mike Luckovich

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

May 8, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

MAY 09, 2024

Today, in Racine, Wisconsin, President Joe Biden announced that Microsoft is investing $3.3 billion dollars to build a new data center that will help operate one of the most powerful artificial intelligence systems in the world. It is expected to create 2,300 union construction jobs and employ 2,000 permanent workers.

Microsoft has also partnered with Gateway Technical College to train and certify 200 students a year to fill new jobs in data and information technology. In addition, Microsoft is working with nearby high schools to train students for future jobs.

Speaking at Gateway Technical College’s Racine campus, Biden contrasted today’s investment with that made by Trump about the same site in 2018. In that year, Trump went to Wisconsin for the “groundbreaking” of a high-tech campus he claimed would be the “eighth wonder of the world.”

Under Republican governor Scott Walker, Wisconsin legislators approved a $3 billion subsidy and tax incentive package—ten times larger than any similar previous package in the state—to lure the Taiwan-based Foxconn electronics company. Once built, a new $10 billion campus that would focus on building large liquid-crystal display screens would bring 13,000 jobs to the area, they promised.

Foxconn built a number of buildings, but the larger plan never materialized, even after taxpayers had been locked into contracts worth hundreds of millions of dollars for upgrading roads, sewer system, electricity, and so on. When voters elected Democrat Tony Evers as governor in 2022, he dropped the tax incentives from $3 billion to $80 million, which depended on the hiring of only 1,454 workers, reflecting the corporation’s current plans. Foxconn dropped its capital investment from $10 billion to $672.8 million.

In November 2023, Microsoft announced it was buying some of the Foxconn properties in Wisconsin.

Today, Biden noted that rather than bringing jobs to Racine, Trump’s policies meant the city lost 1,000 manufacturing jobs during his term. Wisconsin as a whole lost 83,500. “Racine was once a manufacturing boomtown,” Biden recalled, “all the way through the 1960s, powering companies—invented and manufacturing Windex…portable vacuum cleaners, and so much more, and powered by middle-class jobs.

“And then came trickle-down economics [which] cut taxes for the very wealthy and biggest corporations…. We shipped American jobs overseas because labor was cheaper. We slashed public investment in education and innovation. And the result: We hollowed out the middle class. My predecessor and his administration doubled down on that failed trickle-down economics, along with the [trail] of broken promises.”

“But that’s not on my watch,” Biden said. “We’re determined to turn it around.” He noted that thanks to the Democrats’ policies, in the past three years, Racine has added nearly 4,000 jobs—hitting a record low unemployment rate—and Wisconsin as a whole has gained 178,000 new jobs.

The Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, the CHIPS and Science Act, and the Inflation Reduction Act have fueled “a historic boom in rebuilding our roads and bridges, developing and deploying clean energy, [and] revitalizing American manufacturing,” he said. That investment has attracted $866 billion in private-sector investment across the country, creating hundreds of thousands of jobs “building new semiconductor factories, electric vehicles and battery factories…here in America.”

The Biden administration has been scrupulous about making sure that money from the funds appropriated to rebuild the nation’s infrastructure and manufacturing base has gone to Republican-dominated districts; indeed, Republican-dominated states have gotten the bulk of those investments. “President Biden promised to be the president of all Americans—whether you voted for him or not. And that’s what this agenda is delivering,” White House deputy chief of staff Natalie Quillian told Matt Egan of CNN in February.

But there is, perhaps, a deeper national strategy behind that investment. Political philosophers studying the rise of authoritarianism note that strongmen rise by appealing to a population that has been dispossessed economically or otherwise. By bringing jobs back to those regions that have lost them over the past several decades and promising “the great comeback story all across…the entire country,” as he did today, Biden is striking at that sense of alienation.

“When folks see a new factory being built here in Wisconsin, people going to work making a really good wage in their hometowns, I hope they feel the pride that I feel,” Biden said. “Pride in their hometowns making a comeback. Pride in knowing we can get big things done in America still.”

That approach might be gaining traction. Last Friday, when Trump warned the audience of Fox 2 Detroit television that President’s Biden’s policies would cost jobs in Michigan, local host Roop Raj provided a “reality check,” noting that Michigan gained 24,000 jobs between January 2021, when Biden took office, and May 2023.

At Gateway Technical College, Biden thanked Wisconsin governor Tony Evers and Racine mayor Cory Mason, both Democrats, as well as Microsoft president Brad Smith and AFL-CIO president Liz Schuler.

The picture of Wisconsin state officials working with business and labor leaders, at a public college established in 1911, was an image straight from the Progressive Era, when the state was the birthplace of the so-called Wisconsin Idea. In the earliest years of the twentieth century, when the country reeled under industrial monopolies and labor strikes, Wisconsin governor Robert “Fighting Bob” La Follette and his colleagues advanced the idea that professors, lawmakers, and officials should work together to provide technical expertise to enable the state to mediate a fair relationship between workers and employers.

In his introduction to the 1912 book explaining the Wisconsin Idea, former president Theodore Roosevelt, a Republican, explained that the Wisconsin Idea turned the ideas of reformers into a workable plan, then set out to put those ideas into practice. Roosevelt approvingly quoted economist Simon Patten, who maintained that the world had adequate resources to feed, clothe, and educate everyone, if only people cared to achieve that end. Quoting Patten, Roosevelt wrote: “The real idealist is a pragmatist and an economist. He demands measurable results and reaches them by means made available by economic efficiency. Only in this way is social progress possible.”

Reformers must be able to envision a better future, Roosevelt wrote, but they must also find a way to turn those ideals into reality. That involved careful study and hard work to develop the machinery to achieve their ends.

Roosevelt compared people engaged in progressive reform to “that greatest of all democratic reformers, Abraham Lincoln.” Like Lincoln, he wrote, reformers “will be assailed on the one side by the reactionary, and on the other by that type of bubble reformer who is only anxious to go to extremes, and who always gets angry when he is asked what practical results he can show.” “[T]he true reformer,” Roosevelt wrote, “must study hard and work patiently.”

“It is no easy matter actually to insure, instead of merely talking about, a measurable equality of opportunity for all men,” Roosevelt wrote. “It is no easy matter to make this Republic genuinely an industrial as well as a political democracy. It is no easy matter to secure justice for those who in the past have not received it, and at the same time to see that no injustice is meted out to others in the process. It is no easy matter to keep the balance level and make it evident that we have set our faces like flint against seeing this government turned into either government by a plutocracy, or government by a mob. It is no easy matter to give the public their proper control over corporations and big business, and yet to prevent abuse of that control.”

“All through the Union we need to learn the Wisconsin lesson,” Roosevelt wrote in 1912.

“We’re the United States of America,” President Biden said today, “And there’s nothing beyond our capacity when we work together.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #Biden Administration #election 2024 #infrastructure #jobs #economic reality

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ernestinee · 1 year

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Finalement c'était une chouette journée !

Pour rappel, je conduisais ce matin l'ado à 1h30 de la maison, pour le reprendre ce soir et j'avais plusieurs options :

- m'ennuyer à l'attendre, la dernière fois il faisait mauvais, j'ai lu dans la voiture toute la journée et j'avais détesté le bouquin #vieuxchiant (j'avais fait un hashtag exprès pour l'auteur oui oui)

- rentrer à la maison et retourner le chercher au même endroit le soir, soit 6h de route en tout.

Alors finalement rien de tout ça, j'ai pris les appareils photo et j'ai roulé 50 km de plus pour retrouver les endroits où je passais les camps de vacances quand j'étais enfant, puis ado. Ça faisait une éternité que je n'y étais plus allée mais je n'avais rien oublié. Il faudra que je scanne les polaroid convenablement et ils iront dans ma série "places of my childhood". Le polaroid n'a pas été capricieux. J'ai vu les antennes de Lessive, le domaine des Masures, le Belvédère, la maison du pendu qui était à l'origine d'un tas d'histoires effrayantes, je suis descendue ensuite pour retrouver la source de la Lomme et cet endroit est mon endroit préféré du monde, je me souviens très clairement être enfant, dans la voiture vers le camp, et être impatiente d'y arriver, je me souvenais des racines enchevêtrées, des rochers qui dépassent, des endroits où être au plus près de l'eau, de la grotte où j'avais eu un cours de spéléo, puis je suis retournée à la voiture, j'ai trouvé un magasin pour acheter à manger et à boire, et alors que j'allais m'installer à l'ombre pour manger, j'ai vu un groupe de scouts qui faisaient du stop, je les ai amenés où ils voulaient être, c'était des scouts de Bruges hyper sympas et qui parlaient super bien l'anglais, j'ai pas vu le temps passer, on a fait 25 km dans les lacets de la région de Houyet en Ardenne. On a eu une chouette conversation à propos des vacances et celui qui était sur le siège passager m'a demandé ce qui m'avait le plus plu lors du road trip en van en Italie, et je n'y avais jamais réfléchi je crois. J'ai finalement dit que j'avais adoré ne pas savoir du matin où j'allais dormir le soir, j'avais adoré le fait de ne pas tout devoir planifier, le fait de rouler si envie, s'arrêter si envie, manger quand on a faim même si c'est pas l'heure. Il a dit que sa mère avait très envie d'un road trip mais leur famille est trop grande pour embarquer tout le monde et que ce serait génial si elle pouvait experimenter ce truc de ne pas devoir planifier tout le temps, parce qu'il voit qu'elle est très stressée à cause de toute la charge qu'elle a sur les épaules. J'ai fait un petit détour pour qu'ils gagnent leur concours du groupe qui fait le plus de km avec une voiture en stop, on a dépassé d'autres groupes et on leur a fait signe en rigolant.

Après il était presque l'heure de reprendre l'ado donc je suis allée sur place, j'ai (enfin) mangé et il m'a demandé de le reprendre plus tôt voilà voilà comment une journée qui était censée être pénible est devenue une chouette journée de vacances, j'ai été seule, j'ai fait ce que je voulais, j'ai bronzé et j'ai bien marché.

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siribaes · 7 days

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crusin’

han lue x (oc) [ black!fem! ]

a late night, open road, passenger side driving around los angeles with her favorite guy.

contents: fluff. some angst. smutty thoughts. brief smoking cigarette mention. brief mention of death. rival gang dynamics. mild peril han drives fast ofc <3. nothing too major.

suggested tunes📻: protect my heart by kelis, it’s whatever by aaliyah, luxurious by gwen stefani, run to the sun by n.e.r.d., boogie 2nite by tweet, try again by aaliyah

author’s note: just a little somethin’ featuring my number one guy han <3. this was heavily inspired by romeo must die, i loved jet and aaliyah’s dynamic & this takes place after better luck tomorrow and before fast and furious/tokyo drift. y’all lmk if i should make this into a fic…🤔 / not edited or proofread

. . . ZOOOOM!

an electric blue, 1995 mazda widebody fd rx7 flys down the street. driving through lights, regardless of the color change. the wind brushes against chickie’s cheeks as the car veered left. she stretches her arm out the window, she hummed. the air is a bit chilly but it feels good against her skin. the mazda slowed down at a red light.

“i thought you said you wanted to cruise. it feels like you’re racin’,” chickie murmurs pulling her arm back inside. she turned toward the driver’s side.

he glances at her, his lips forming into a lopsided grin. “was cooped up, haven’t been behind the wheel all day, let me flex,”

flex he did.

chickie’s heart fluttered watching his skillful hands maneuver the gear shift with ease. his nimble fingers tap on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music. a part of her mind wonders how his hand would fit into hers or how the rough callous on his palms would feel against her skin.

“can we stop at the store? i want some snacks,” chickie spoke aloud. she focused her eyes on the road and away from from his hands.

“it’s one up ahead,” with one hand, he effortlessly maneuvers the wheel, his palm gently guiding it as the car turns at a right corner.

so smooth.

the madza slowly pulls into a spot across from a brightly, colored convenience store. chickie unbuckles her seat belt.

“you want anything?”

“nah, i’ll just share with you,” chickie playfully rolls her eyes. she steps out of the car and heads straight into the store.

chickie comes out minutes later with a boat load of snacks and drinks. already, half way done with her snickers, she almost chokes, from she sees. her friend, her favorite guy.

han leans against the car, his body, totally relaxed like he doesn’t have a care in the world. a cigarette hangs from his full lips, as han rakes a hand though his inky, black tresses. the street is quiet as the plastic bag swishes back and forth. with every step, chickie feels like her heart is gonna leap out of her throat.

she can’t really pin-point when it happened or how it happened but it just did. it was like chickie went to bed one way and woke up another. every little thing han lue did set her a flame, even simple things like tonight, calling her up at 1:00 AM asking if she wanted to go for a ride. she all but leapt out of her bed room window when heard the engine of the madza coming down the street.

as exhilarating as her crush on han was she knew that it wouldn’t go anywhere. he was her best friend and on top of that the growing rivalry between his crew and her cousins, both vying for control over parts of south-east la, didn’t add much to the equation. in fact it subtracted from it. so chickie just settled for her mushy, unrequited feelings and distracted herself with other things. this time, nitpicking han’s smoking habits.

“i thought you were quitting,” chickie hoists herself on the hood of han’s car. she digs into the bag, pulling out soda and a pack of twinkies.

a week prior, han told chickie that he was going to quit, cold turkey. that and some other ramblings of needing to get out of “this place”. over the course of their friendship, chickie can tell when han is tired or sleep deprived. typically a man of few words, he becomes talkative and super rambly when exhausted. there was a small part of that was happy han was quitting, but she should’ve known better, old habits die hard.

han takes a long pull. he blows the smoke away from chickie’s direction. “i am. haven’t had a cig in three days,”

“but you said you went cold turkey,” chickie takes a bite of her twinkie.

“listen,” han leans towards chickie, “i’ll go cold turkey when you tell y’re pops about your new jewelry,” he reached towards her stomach and lightly flicked her belly button piercing.

chickie squatted his hand away. “boy, please another piercing isn’t gonna hurt anyone. my body, my choice. besides, cigarettes aren’t good for you,”

han chuckles. he takes another pull, blowing the smoke up towards the sky. he shrugged. “does it matter? health isn’t my priority. especially the way i’m livin’,”

chickie frowns. “i don’t like when you talk like that,”

han take another pull, longer than the previous. the cigarette is a nothing but a stubby bud now. he flicks it away. slowly, he turns and faces her.

“you worry about me too much,”

“i feel like i don’t worry enough,” chickie said quietly. she avoids his eyes, keeping them toward the lights of the convenience store.

“you hoggin’ all the snacks,” before chickie could respond, han pulls her hand towards him. a prickly, chill runs down her spine. The roughness of han’s callouses feel good against her skin. frozen in place, chickie watches han lean down and bite the twinkie in her hand.

she feels everything.

the slight, soft-wetness of han’s mouth on her skin. his nimble tongue as it gently slides and swirls around the tips of chickie’s fingers. her works in over time, completely thudding against her chest, as han pulls away from her. for second, chickie sees a certain glint in the deep, brown pools of his eyes.

he chews. han smirks at her.

“there’s a race on saturday. you should come,” han says, leaning back, casually.

chickie took a sip of her soda. hoping for the coolness of the drink to cool her down. she takes another sip and thinks, if he could do that, so could i.

“i dunno,” chickie trails. she innocently, fiddled with her bracelet, playing with the race-car charm, the same one han got her a year ago, in honor of the mutual love for cars. she looks at him, batting her eyelashes, subtly, “i might be, busy,”

han’s eye brow rose. “busy?”

“yeah, i might have plans, or something,”

“what, like a date?” chickie notices a slight change in han’s demeanor. his jaw tightens, emphasizing the angles of his cheekbones.

chickie attempts to channel her best han impression, shrugging her shoulders in the most nonchalant way. han grows quiet, slowly nodding his head. he leans off the car and positions himself in front of her. in quick movements, han pulls chickie close. fingers flutter across her exposed stomach.

han tickles her.

“han! stop, please! o-okay, okay, okay! i’ll come, i can’t breathe,” chickie squeals, attempting to push han away from her.

“say you’ll come,” han somehow managed to snake a hand to the back of chickie’s neck. he gently holds her in place, while he continues to tickle her.

“ooo-okay! i will come, please,” han eases off of her. he watched as chickie caught her breath. she shoves han’s shoulder, “asshole,”

they laugh.

“seriously though,” han rolls his shoulder, keeping his gaze on chickie, “i need you there. i wanna see my favorite girl,”

chickie smiles, gently. the flames of her unrequited crush roaring back inside of her. han loops an arm around chickie’s shoulder, she leans her head against him. savoring this moment, allowing herself a little leeway to dream about what could’ve been.

#siribaesfics #han lue x oc #han lue x black!fem!oc #han lue fanfic #fast and furious fanfiction #woc fanfiction #poc fanfiction #black fanfiction

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lizzybeth1986 · 11 months

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Character Playlist: Lily Spencer

So I thought I'd make a playlist that's both vibrant and fun, and deep and introspective, because Lily embodies both for me. Four of the songs I chose have video game references, of which one ("Too Much is Never Enough") was inspired by music in video games.

You'll find the playlist here. Do give it a listen!

Tagging @lilyspencerappreciationweek and @sazanes for LSAW Day 2: Lily the Gamer

Bad Reputation - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation

Never said I wanted to improve my station

An' I'm only doin' good when I'm havin' fun

An' I don't have to please no one

Love in December - Club 8

So you fall

when the nights grow longer

into sleep

You won't wake up

And I'm here, I'm sitting beside you

and I'll wait

until the spring

Telephone - Ladh Gaga ft. Beyonce

Boy, the way you blowing up my phone

Won't make me leave no faster

Put my coat on faster

Leave my girls no faster

I should've left my phone at home

'Cause this is a disaster

Calling like a collector

Sorry, I cannot answer

Video Games - The Young Professionals

Go play a video game

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on Earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I heard that you like bad girls; honey, is that true?

Disturbia - Rihanna

Put on your break lights

We're in the city of wonder

Ain't gonna play nice

Watch out, you might just go under

Better think twice

Your train of thought will be altered

So if you must falter be wise

Don't Panic - Coldplay

Bones, sinking like stones

All that we fought for

Homes, places we've grown

All of us are done for

And we live in a beautiful world

Yeah, we do, yeah, we do

We live in a beautiful world

Game On - Waka Flocka Flame ft. Good Charlotte

It's amazin' all the places and the people faces

Ah, bought the tour bus like a spaceship

I'm racin' against nothin' but time

Probably wouldn't be so lost if you was watchin' the signs

Too Much Is Not Enough - Florence + the Machine

Oh, who decides from where up high?

I couldn't say: I need more time

Oh, grant that I can stay the night

Or one more day inside this life

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun - Cyndi Lauper

That's all they really want

Some fun

When the workin' day is done

Oh girls, they wanna have fun

Oh girls just wanna have fun...

Stockings - Suzanne Vega

Do you know where friendship ends

And passion does begin?

It's between the binding of

Her stockings and her skin.

Nintendo Game - Alessia Cara

All the trashtalk is getting reload

I'd rather try my hand at Rainbow Road

I'm focused, play my next move

But you're onto me so it's no use

It's a showdown, a game for two

Pick each other's brains looking for clues

A battle with no objective

Who will be the final one standing?

Don't Stop Me Now - Queen

I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky like a tiger

Defying the laws of gravity

I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva

I'm gonna go, go, go, there's no stopping me

#lily spencer #bloodbound #lilyspencerappreciationweek #LSAW #LSAW 2023 #LSAW Day 2 #LSAW Day 2: Lily the Gamer #lizzybeth1986 #content: playlist

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matchagyudon · 1 month

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"God in the Dice" - Dice Arisugawa, Hypnosis Microphone English Lyrics Translation

TL Note:

小判鮫 (kobanzame) is a type of shark that sucks. Remora. Sharksucker. Suckerfish. I opted to use bottomfeeder here instead for the simplicity of understanding without having to look it up. Just easier to understand (to me).

Time for the adrenaline to kick in With a grin on my face, can’t hide the trembling Flow’s in the Zone Microphone and a show Our rivals can’t even come close

When it all comes to a halt, pray to God No stress-- I’m the one who’ll win The rolls will Go my way I’ve placed a Full BET, takin’ all the chances here I don’t care; I’m just me The thrill of the dice that fuels my life The very last moment that leads to a jackpot Racin’ down champion road

(Love the life you live) Just like Back in the days (Live the life you love) I ain’t lost now (Love the life you live) I love it, All the way (Live the life you love) G.O.D God in the Dice

Shibuya Crossing- a swarm of people No one else’s colors can stain this life Once you’ve given your all, leave it up to the Gods Don’t call it a coincidence, ain’t no romance here Like bottomfeeders clinging to scraps After refusin’ the call, you’re now steppin’ up for the challenge We can’t be careless, this is just the beginning We’re the wild cards, feast your eyes on us God’s in the dice and details I’ll pay back double what I owe No matter how shitty the path lies before us I’ll love my Life till the very end Mics that can dethrone the powerful, this is our cue to turn the tables; Time for revolution It’s a risky try, to cross that Red Line All the heads in Shibuya-- Get High

I don’t care; I’m just me The thrill of the dice that fuels my life The very last moment that leads to a jackpot Racin’ down champion road

(Love the life you live) Just like Back in the days (Live the life you love) I ain’t lost now (Love the life you live) I love it, All the way (Live the life you love) G.O.D God in the Dice

The troubles I’ve buried deep I’ll fulfill the mission I’ve laid bare Don’t look away, keep watching Instantly Reset your Bad Mind-- complete Like a baton relay, see how our lyrics flow together Feeling refreshed and energized Rhymes come to mind when the timing is right We’ve got the Master Key to turn the tide in one sweep I hold this Mic that I chose From here on out this is my territory As expected, the positive image that just keeps giving The History that we’ve built together With instinct as my weapon, we’ll take our position This’ll be Shibuya’s Victory

(Love the life you live) Just like Back in the days (Live the life you love) I ain’t lost now (Love the life you live) I love it, All the way (Live the life you love) G.O.D God in the Dice

Just like Back in the days I ain’t lost now I love it, All the way G.O.D God in the Dice

God in the Dice - Dice Arisugawa, English Lyrics Translation @MatchaGyudon (google.com)

#english translation #matchagyudon #translation #hypnosis microphone #hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone translation #fling posse #dice arisugawa

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