#Whiskey is Latino | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doubledown · 9 months

Text

Yall already know the drill no MLM fetish people as for minors go while I'd prefer you not to interact I cant control what you do

So this is abit of a specific fic for a certain someone ( you know who you are pooks 💕 )

The reader is Latino with a brown complextion feel free to imagine them in whatever shade you want

The reader will be male and masc terms will be used for them

Some Spanish will be in this used in this fic but a translation with be provided so dont worry about havin to go to google translate

This will most likely be around 2 or 3 parts depending on my motivation

ALSO I HAVE NOT WATCHED THE MOVIE so uh if its not like canon him I'm sorry 🧍‍♀️

Degration, Hook up, Hand job, Public Sex, Cheating, S_lf h_rm ( not described implied tho ), HEAVY Voice Kink

HEAVY on criticism. Trying out a new writing style since I noticed that the one I currently due really doesn't stimulate my brain enough which leads to writer's block. SO YEAH LMFAO HAVE FUN ( P.S THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITEEE AND IT IS KINDA LONG SO SEAT BACKK AND ENJOYYYYYYY )🧍‍♀️

-------------------------------------------------------

Your mama says I'm a fool

And yeah, maybe that's true 'cause I can't

stop thinkin' 'bout you

I'm tryin'

I'm tryin' not to forget my words

'Cause when I'm around you, I tend to keep

changin' my mind

Miguel murmered as the smell of heavy whiskey and cheap liquor crowded around him. He wasn't a drinker at all. He hadn't even thought about it. Well.....not until today. Everything was just going to shit. So he figured he drown himself in something other then self destruction and exhaustion. At least this would kill his worries for awhile after all what's the point of multiverse travel if you couldn't do somewhere where you were unknown? A place you could simply escape without anybody finding you or judging you for your actions. Nobody to put a strong and dominate front for. Just simply unknown and out of touch. " What's on your mind to drink tonight? " The bartender asked abit of a friendly smile on his face. Miguel honestly didn't know what to choose so he just said the first brand of liquor that came to mind. " Just a few shots of fireball.." He said resting his arms on the bar. " Alright hot shot your drinks will be ready in abit. " The bartender said quickly soon off to go take other orders while simultaneously making drinks. He couldn't say he wasn't impressed in all honesty but he had seen it done by failedly by parker. He always tended to try things that really didn't suit him. The bartender looked up and Miguel heart almost sunk in his chest when he spoke. " Buyin a drink or did ya miss me y/n? " The bartender asked leaning over the bar giving a peck on the lips to you.

He couldn't look. He wouldn't look. Yet the gentle rumble in your voice was something that always had a hold on him. " Why not both? " You teased catching onto your lover's lip in your teeth before letting go with a smirk. " You know what I like cariño. " [ darling/dear ] Cariño. Cariño Cariño Cariño Cariño...Even after years away from each other the word still made him his heart burn. Just the way your accent just drove him mad was something that he couldn't even begin to explain. Yet he knew it wasn't his place to feel that way nor right. You two were seperated now. But he wished that things had gone very differently.

" Miguel......Surprised to see you here. " You said your tone neutral but he could feel the hiss of anger in your eyes. You two broke up on a rather...messy note. Things were just too much and miguel wasn't excatly helping with being fuckin spider man and shit. You didn't- No. You couldn't do it. You weren't gonna live in fear that somebody may one day hurt you because they may have followed him home or some shit. So you suggested he retire from doing the whole superhero thing. And he didn't at all take it well. The two of you argued about it for days which turned into weeks. Things were said and one thing led to the other and soon you two weren't even remotely related anymore. He choose people he didn't even know over you. And it stung like hell. But you moved on and forward. And to see him in such a low state....it....it messed with you abit. It brought back some things that you really wished you had buried lower..

" Y/N. It's nice to see you again. " He said with a small smile. You had always been rather...eye pleasing to put it appropriately. Everything just fit so perfectly on you. Every feature on your face to every hair on you head was completely and utterly put together so...Intoxicatingly. And your voice....fuck your voice.... " Ah Im guessin you guys have past? " The voice of your lover pulled him away before his thoughts had a chance to tip off. " Yeah. He's an old friend. " You said simply without bothering to look at the other man. You already you tired from work and really didnt want want to deal with your partner gettin all pissy that your ex is here. " Just a shot of jack daniels Mí Corazón. " you purred. [ My heart ] You knew what your voice did to Miguel. You know what you could gain from him just with a few soft I love yous or just simply saying his name the way he liked. He was a slut for words. Literally. And you had no sympthay for him left in you to care. After all it seemed more like a personal problem then anything. Sucks to suck.

You sat down next to Miguel resting you arms on the bar slightly leaning just enough for that slight arch in your back to show. It was wrong you knew that. Quietly seducing your ex while your partner was right in front of you. But after all you had to return the favor. Finding those texts from all those different guys. You wondered how many times he had fucked some guy while on shift. More importantly how many of them were here now. Miguel was weak when it came to you. He always had been. And the way he shifted in his seat when ever you spoke or the way he seemed so dazzedly focused on your features only proved that he still was a little whore for you. But you weren't gonna simply just give him what he wanted. No. That be too merciful. He needed to beg. Like bitch in heat. He needed to beg like fucking him was a need. Like he couldn't survive without you stuffing him full of what he knew craved.

Miguel cleared his throat and diverted his eyes to his drink as the bartender brough back his drink. " I didn't know you were into liquor. " You said with abit of a curious tone. When did he start drinking?? He always had hated the smell of alcohol at least you thought he did. He used to get onto you about drinking all the time goin on and on about how it could mess up your liver and such. Yet here he was puttin his feelings into a cup. Crazy how things change. " And I thought you didn't fall under stress. " He muttered taking drinking it down in a quick motion. He gagged slightly before swallowing a rather displeasing look on his face. " What? The bite too much for you amor? " [ Love ] You snarked a teasing smile on your face. " No. It's just stronger then what I'm used to. " He mumbled clearly embarrassed by his own reaction. The wound between you too was still fairly fresh. Even more unattended then you both thought. The dismissed jab from Miguel only just proved it.

You swished your drink around not even really wantin it in all honesty. It just felt all surreal and awkward having him around. It just didn't feel natural anymore. And you hated it so fuckin much. Your thoughts were brought out by your rather oblivious boyfriend giving you a kiss on the forehead. " Hey sorry to interrupt you in your space but I gotta head out for a bit. A friend from work needs help movin some furniture. " He said with a smile. " Don't worry about the bar ken is already gettin ready for his shift. " He continued giving you a finally peck before leaving. So that's how he did it. He made a lame ass excuse and left before he could be asked questions. Huh. It was the only thought that came into your mind. At this point feelin guilty was out of the picture entirely. After all if he could go have fun why couldn't you.

You leaned up slightly your left hand grazing the other's thigh as he stiffened. He looked at you confusedly and you simply looked at him for permission. You had always been abit of a fan for open things. It obviously took him a minute to realize what you wanted to do and the clear surprise look on his face almost made you laugh. Yet odd enough he moved his seat abit closer to you despite it. " Hm. Seems like somebody missed old times. " You hummed to yourself teasing his cock through his jeans. He shifted in his seat as he rested his hand on his forehead trying his hardest not to thrust up for attention. You slowly but carefully unzipped his jeans and the entire time the poor man was figiting in his seat. " Desperate much? " You murmed loosely as you teased the head of his swollen cock.

He huffed sharply as he shifted his weight toward your as you wrapped your pretty hands around his cock and pumped it at a rather fast pace. A small whimper came from his throat as you stroked him precum dripping as your pace became relentless. He put his head down on the bar ledge his one hand covering his mouth trying so hard to quiet his soft rambles of pleasure. He twitched and pulsed as what seemed like hours to him as his responses simply got harder and harder to hide. At this point he was pratically mind numb with pleasure and being a whiny mess of a man. Yet you weren't done with your pretty boy just yet. Things were simply getting started.

#dom male reader #sub character #sub miguel o'hara #top male reader #male y/n #dom reader #submissivecharacter #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #lowkeywannabendhimover #LOLENJOYY #YesIdidleaveyallonacliffhangersorrynotsorry🤞🙄/j/lh

271 notes · View notes

ominoose · 1 month

Text

𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Pairing: Jake Lockley x AFAB!Autistic!Reader Summary: Short fluff self-insert with Jake because fandoms gotta become cringe again. Also shout out to Bigfoot enjoyers! Warnings: None WC: 779

“And so like, they weren’t even just screaming, they were vocalising! Phonetically they were forming words, like there was cadence to it, y’know?!”

“Mh hm.” Jake nodded, nursing the coffee mug in his hand, watching the short woman pace back and forth across the kitchen, her own cup of tea completely forgotten and abandoned on the table like many others over the ages. Poor things.

“And- And the University of Wyoming studied the recordings for a year! And guess what!”

The man was an expert at this, and knew well the question was rhetorical, there wouldn’t be enough time to actually get a ‘What?’ in there. Instead, he widened his eyes a little as he took another sip of bitter coffee, waiting expectantly for the next revelation.

“They said the noises were from lungs that were larger in capacity than humans! And it was an actual deliberate language!” The huge grin, wide eyes and shaking of her hands marked the clear importance of the sentence, this was not a finding to be taken lightly.

“No way.”

Coming home from a late shift in the cab, Jake usually would’ve poured a glass of whiskey, kicked off his shoes, loosened his tie and claimed the couch to binge some shitty reality tv. Sue him, it was entertaining to be invested in drama that was less world ending over godly feuds and more Becky's boyfriend kissing her ex. If his girl came to sit beside him and let him use her thighs as a stress toy, it was the recipe for a perfect night.

When he came home tonight to see his beautiful girl practically bouncing on her toes, hands stimming, actively chewing back a smile and practically bursting at the seams with some hot info instead, how could he not walk over and get his fill? After all, she info-dumped with more passion than any gossip the Kardashians could give. As her man, it was his solemn duty to share her burdens, even if that burden was her excitement over some Bigfoot evidence from some random American woods.

“I also heard that the area the sounds were recorded historically had a lot of Chinese settlers- and the vocalisations have a large resemblance to Mandarin! I mean that, like, implies the Bigfoot community only either cropped up at that period or something but, like, it’s still insane I mean can you imagine we haven’t encountered Bigfoot yet because they all speak Chinese and can’t understand us?” How she spewed so much without taking a single breath was a mystery in and of itself, those crypto-whatsits oughta look into that.

“Who’s ‘we’, bebita? There’s only one American in this room and that’s me. Stop trying to steal my guy.”

“Your guy?” The smile on her face grew, adoring that he entertained her info-dumps and enamored with his cheek, “Since when did Bigfoot go to New York?”

The Latino shrugged, completely nonchalant as he drained the last of his coffee.

“When he calls my cab to take him there.” The curl of his lips betrayed his own amusement and the short woman giggled as she bounced into his lap, hands patting his shoulders.

Stimming was still a relatively new concept to Jake. To him, he understood it as needing to shake off big feelings, good or bad, before they drowned you. He could understand that, feelings were a fuckin’ lot even to him, and he didn’t have autism (no matter how much his amor tried to peer review him, he’d dodge those accusations like he dodged the Avengers).

Seeing her stim to him, with him, over him, that was intimate. That coiled into his very soul, snug and warm. Knowing her feelings for him were so strong, so intense she had to literally, physically, manage them before they made her heart explode? It was literally impossible for the thoughts in his head to try and do some self-sabotage. No one could tell him she didn’t love him, not even himself.

That wasn’t even accounting for the obvious fact that she felt safe enough to shake her heart around right in front of him, with that beautiful smile too. She’d kill him before any bullet or cultist ever could, and he’d accept it with open arms.

“You think that Mothman guy and Bigfoot are amigos? Think they’ve ever hooked up?”

The light in her eyes when he casually sprinkled her other hyper-fixation in there, always making a point of showing he remembered each and every detail of her spiels, could lead him out of the darkest black hole.

“You’re weird, Jake Lockley.” Her giggle was girlish, high pitched and sweet as honey, “They’re divorced, actually.”

#jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac #omiwrites

57 notes · View notes

polakina · 2 months

Note

JAVIER REQUEST PLS OMG- We all like latin, suave lover Javier but what if we mix that with a lil bit of awkward Javier?? Javier who says the wrong, rizzless things whenever he tries to be suave and it ends up sounding like he's being threatening??

I think it would be silly if Javier fell for reader who tried to pick pocket him at a bar (he noticed ofc- she ain't slick-) and promptly invited her to come with him and join the gang or else he'll report her to the Sheriff for pick pocketing (he can't think of a fast enough excuse to make her stay).

i love love LOVE this idea. nonnie i love u

pls send more requests, this one is amazing

rating: mature

pairing: javier escuella x reader

follow the trail

You’d noticed him across the store about twenty minutes ago. He stood with a larger, more loudly spoken man who looked as though he was trying to start a fight with the store keeper. The Spanish man just stood there, leaning against the counter, looking like he didn’t want to be there. You found it sort of amusing, how fed up he looked.

Shielding yourself from view behind the shelves, you planned your idea, mapping it out in your head. The loud spoken man eventually stormed out of the building, leaving just you, the Latino and the shopkeeper.

You could do it now. Sneak behind him as though you were waiting in line, steal from his back pocket where you could quite clearly see a bill fold just waiting to be lifted from him. It’d be easy. Like the thousand other times you’d done it.

Javier eyed you from his peripheral. You’d pretended to eye coffee tins for a while now. Nobody looked at coffee that long. Your eyes had flitted between himself and Bill. Something in your eyes brightened once Bill had left the store, not even casting a glance at you.

So he was your target. Not Bill. Not the shopkeeper. Just as he’d suspected, you’d had a firm gaze on his back pocket since even before you’d entered the store. The bill fold he’d conveniently left in view drew your attention right to him. He’d felt your presence quite close behind him and Bill on the walk through Valentine. Not too close to draw attention, but not so far that you’d lose him in a crowd. You were good. But not as good as him.

He paid for his things and left. You grabbed a few tins of coffee and some assorted biscuits off the shelf and side stepped into view, head down. Your shoulder bumped his and you turned to apologise, your free hand reaching around his rear, delicate fingers lifting the folded papers out of his pocket.

“Apologies, mister,” you smiled sweetly, looking up at him. He was handsome, you noticed. A freckle dotted face and dark moustache covering his lips. You hadn’t noticed that from afar.

“It’s alright, hermosa,” he smiled back, tipping his hat to you. “Should have watched where I was going.” With that, he left, leaving you richer and him none the wiser. You smirked to yourself, paying for your groceries and making your way to the door. You didn’t see the silhouettes in the window, two men waiting outside the store. Exiting the shop, you paid them no mind, but they had their eyes on you.

“Got what you needed, Javier?” Bill asked him as he exited the shop, a smirk playing at Javier’s lips.

“No help from you, hermano,” Javier rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall of the general store. He lit a cigarette, waiting for the familiar bell ring of the door to sound. “You’re lucky he even served me after the shit you called him.”

“He said I was drunk! Thought I was a danger to him ‘in the state I was in. Goddamn idiot.”

“And are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Drunk?”

Javier laughed as Bill stumbled, unable to formulate a defence for himself. Of course, whatever defence he did come up with would have been a lie. He’d been drinking whiskey since the sun rose. Of course he was drunk.

“What you even doing, Escuella? We should be getting back to camp,” Bill pointed out, finally realising that Javier hadn’t even moved to make his way to his horse yet.

“Just gimme a sec, Williamson. There’s someone I’m waiting for,” he mused vaguely, turning his head towards the door as the lady who’d stolen from him exited the store.

You felt an arm grab you, and your head whipped towards the same man you’d robbed. Shit. “Hey, look I apologised for bumping into you, you don’t need to take this further,” you pulled from his grip easily. He wasn’t trying to restrain you, he just wanted your attention.

“Javier, you waited all this time for a girl? Come on, man, we’ve got shit to do,” the other man groaned, turning to stumble towards his horse, quite ungracefully, you might add.

“Not here about you bumping into me, chica,” Javier spoke, his tone steady, friendly. He leaned against the store post, smiling. You stood on the top step, a head shorter than him. “I’m here for the money you stole from me.” His accent tingled at something inside you. You hadn’t heard his accent much around Valentine. It wasn’t common. But you liked it.

“Well, that was a little abrupt, wasn’t it?” You asked, cocking your head, your heart thumping in your chest. It wasn’t often you got caught. You had to figure your way out of this one. Perhaps if you played with a meaner, more defensive streak, he might back off. “You’d do well not to go about accusing people like that.”

His eyebrows rose and his intimidating demeanour backed off.

He’d got you. He saw it in your eyes. You were trying to think of a lie that could get you out of this. To anyone else, your smile and sweet expression would have gotten you a slap on the wrist before getting sent off about your day. It could have worked for him. But Javier was looking to recruit. You seemed a perfect candidate.

“I want my money back, and I’ll get it one way or another,” he said. It came across more threatening that he’d have liked. Especially when he saw your eyes squint and your entire body tense. “But…but…perhaps if you gave it back, I could spend it on something nice, like taking you out for a drink? Hmm?”

You’d have thought he’d never talked to a woman before. First he accused you, then he asked you out for a drink? The man was all over the place. “So…you accuse me of stealing from you? And now…you want me to go for a drink with you? I think you’ve smoked too many cigarettes, mister,” you laughed, moving to walk away, but he stepped in front of you before you could leave.

“The bill folds. They were in my back pocket. I can’t lie, it was a pretty good lift. Better than I’ve seen in a while,” he smirked, looking down at you with a genuinely happy smile. “But not good enough, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened. There wasn’t a way out now. He’d caught you red handed. Fuck.

“I don’t-”

“Look,”he leaned forward, his scent in your nose now, smoke wafting in your face as he spoke. His face inched closer to yours, and if you didn’t feel as though you were about to be outed, you’d probably have blushed. “We could use someone like you. You’re good at what you do, that much is evident. Seems like you wanna make money, I can help with that.”

That wasn’t exactly what you were expecting. “I ain’t looking for a job, mister,” you whispered, leaning in closer. “Not if it ain’t legal.”

He chuckled softly, his shoulders shaking as he tilted his head back. He had a pretty laugh. “Honey, I don’t think you’ve ever done a legal thing since you could walk. You rob people as easy as you breathe.”

“Not happening.”

Javier quirked his brow. “Let me rephrase this, hermosa. You can come with me, and my good friend Bill over there,” he pointed at Bill, who swayed against his horse, humming to himself across the street. “Or…I go tell that lovely sheriff over there that you stole from me. I’d love to see how you fare in jail. With a pretty face like that, you might get out in a couple weeks.”

“Are blackmailing me with a prison sentence to come join your rag tag crew of outcasts?!” Your eyes practically bulged out of your head and you couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped you, it wasn’t friendly, exactly. More just out of sheer surprise.

“Uhm…well…okay, so,” Javier rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Not exactly a smooth talker, he was beginning to learn. “It’s your only option, love.”

Honestly, it wasn’t a bad option. At least you wouldn’t be scavenging for scraps for the rest of your life. Hmm. You cocked your head to the side, looking at Javier with contemplating eyes. “Blackmail wasn’t the ideal way to go about it…” Javier chuckled nervously as you spoke, looking down at his feet. “But you’re lucky I’m desperate for somewhere more comfortable to sleep.”

Riding back to their camp, you looked over to Javier, whose eye caught yours. He smiled softly. “You know I wouldn’t have turned you into the sheriff, right?”

You huffed a chuckle, shaking your head. “I know that it would have been a stupid move from you, Javier,” you smirked.

“You still got my money?”

Raising your eyebrows, you turned to face the road. “Thought you were going to take me out for a drink with that money?” You heard him laugh to your right. “I’ll keep a hold of that money until you go through with that promise.”

He liked your spark. “Anything for you, hermosa.”

#fluff #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #red dead redemption community #red dead fandom #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption x reader #javier escuella rdr2 #rdr2 smut #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #javier escuella x reader

100 notes · View notes

evita-shelby · 7 months

Note

Congrats on the 3 yr anniversary of your first Peaky series, Juli! 🎉 Could I pls request a drabble with Eva x Jack using the 3 word prompt “now or never”?

Thank you Lee 🖤

Here you go, i hope you like it

Now or Never

“I am telling you, haricot beans are the superior beans, sweetheart.” Jack joked as he saw his wife pulling a twist on his mother’s recipe of Boston baked beans. He’d taught her the recipe the moment he saw she could actually do shit for herself. "Pinto beans will get you flayed at the church potluck next week."

“You weren’t complaining last sunday.” Eva points out as everything in the kitchen passed her last-minute inspection.

Alice, the maid he’d hired for her, pretty much served as company for his wife instead of the help. Between the two of them they’d gotten the house ready for the Nelson’s first dinner party with the neighbors next door.

The neighborhood had been friendly when he moved in, only for them to become cool and even downright shitty when they saw his wife.

Even Frank had not been able to get over her being a Mexican woman even when Jack made it clear he was to treat his wife like he’d treat him or find his chances at being president fly out the window with him.

Samuel and Helen had been nice, utterly oblivious to the sort of life Jack and Eva had behind closed doors and their kid, Robert, was not a pain in the ass even if he’d caught him looking at Eva’s fine ass when they were washing the car last Saturday.

He’d sprayed the kid with the gardening hose and Sam had laughed while Helen had apologized for the kid. Next thing you know they are hiding the guns, the knives, the whiskey and the personal massager that makes Eva stop speaking English all together when Jack positions it just right.

Fuck, Eva’s even wearing pastels. Shame all the buttons are gonna end up all over the place once the Williamses leave, she looks nice in pink. So sweet and innocent, you wouldn’t think she convinced him to fuck in a confessional the first time they met.

“I like your cooking, why do you think I took you up on your offer to walk in the evenings?” he nuzzled and kissed her neck as he pulled her onto his lap as he took the chair on the table for two in the kitchen. “Although, I’m not opposed to changing that exercise for a different one tonight.”

“I’ll hold you to it, amor.” she murmured and begrudgingly stopped him from getting a premeal workout.

Something that surprised him as Eva has never been one to deny him something they both want; it was only when the doorbell rang he understood why.

“Now or never, Evie.” He whispers when they compose themselves and open the front door.

A/n: vibrators of a sort existed, they were essentially hand-cranked personal massagers.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt was very anti-latino and purposely excluded Latinos from all his aid packages so we'd leave or die, you can see how that worked out for him.

I am loosley basing the Nelsons on the Kennedys and their lived a quiant suburban life before moving into the Kennedy Coumpoud in Hyannis Port, Boston.

You can view the Kennedys' house on here

#jack nelson peaky blinders #jack nelson x oc #jack nelson x eva smith #national anthem fic #3va's party

20 notes · View notes

triviadimplesblog · 10 months

Text

🇹🇭🇪 🇨🇷🇮🇲🇸🇴🇳 🇭🇴🇷🇮🇿🇴🇳

Chibs Telford x OC Brianne O'Connor

Warnings: violence, guns, blood, injury

The Crimson Horizon masterlist

Chapter One

Running away from your life and turning over a new page is easy. It's the consistency of living a new life that's hard. After years and years of making the same choices and reliving the same routine, it's hard to get used to something new. Brianne would know. She had been used to the same bloodshed for the whole 19 years that she lived in Chicago, but now, even after four years, she couldn't get used to the new life. She was jumpy and always carried a gun, for protection of course. She had been involved in some terrible, terrible stuff back in Chicago and she wished she could wipe it all away. Start a clean slate. But no, the blood she had to spill will always follow her and the ghosts of the people whose lives she took will forever haunt her.

That is why she mostly kept to herself. She didn't make long-term friends and she didn't start relationships. No one should want a burden such as herself in their lives. She moved from city to city, town to town in hopes of getting as far as possible from her past. If she felt threatened, even the slightest, in a new environment, she would pack her bags and be gone by dawn. She had to carry fake IDs and have them changed every once in a while so that she wouldn't be tracked. No bank accounts, only cash. The people from her past would find her instantly, she knew that much. It was tough and some days she found herself thinking that maybe giving herself up to the organization and facing death would be easy. But she kept going, she didn't know why she held on for four years, but she did.

She didn't know things would change once she moved to the small town of Charming. She had just moved to the place five days ago when trouble found her. This time it wasn't meant for her, but she still found herself in the middle of it somehow.

She sat at the far corner of the bar she decided to visit that night. It was a full house that night, but she didn't mind as no one paid any attention to her. She didn't pay any attention to anyone else either and sipped on her whiskey on the rocks quietly. The bar was dimly lit, but it had a warm, inviting ambiance. The walls were adorned with vintage signs and pictures of famous singers and bands, telling stories of a bygone era. The air was thick with a scent of alcohol mixing with cigarette smoke and a hint of wood from the old polished bar counter. It had to have been her third drink that night when hell broke loose. Her heart almost stopped beating when the first shot echoed through the busy bar. For a moment she thought she was discovered, but then she saw that the shot was not meant for her.

Brianne saw three men, who had to be older than her for at least 5 or even 10 years, ducking down behind the bar. On the other side of the room stood five Latino men, approaching the other three. She couldn't see their appearances that well because the bar became a frenzy once the first bullet was fired. Everyone scrambled to get out and the Latino men, the attackers, didn't really care about anyone but the three men in hiding. She should have left the money and gone after the other people. She really should have. But seeing as the three were outnumbered, she couldn't help but feel bad for them. She wasn't going to kill anyone, but maybe a bullet wound or two wouldn't hurt. Metaphorically, of course.

Seeing as the fight progressed and now both sides were firing shots, neither noticing the ginger in the corner, she used that as a chance to help. Grabbing her own gun from the waistline of her jeans, Brianne crouched behind an overturned chair and aimed at the first Latino she saw. Once she pulled the trigger, the man cried out in pain, grabbing his shoulder and immediately searching for the source of the bullet. The next one she fired found its target in his thigh. His bald friend next to him had to stop shooting to get his friend behind the cover and press on the shoulder wound. That gave the three men a chance to fight off the other three.

Brianne quickly jumped from her cover and rushed to the two men not shooting. The bald guy didn't see her until she was standing right beside him, but by then it was too late. She slammed the butt of her pistol in his face, effectively knocking him down and when the bleeding guy went to aim at her, she pressed her foot against his thigh wound. He cried out in pain, while his friend started getting up. Brianne grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from a decorated shelf and brought it down on his head. With the uninjured guy out of commission, the other one didn't stand a chance.

The gunfire stopped and she could hear the murmur of the three men from the other side and boots walking over broken glass. The man beneath her grunted in pain which got the attention of the three and they approached to investigate. The first guy was rugged looking with short-ish dark brown hair. Once his eyes spotted the gun in Brianne's hand, he held his own a little tighter for security. The other two men stopped right behind the dark-haired one. One of them had longer, gray hair and was slightly smaller in height, he also had a scruffy beard that looked kept to a certain level. The third man, however, had Brianne's attention fully. The first thing she noticed about him was the Glasgow smile. She heard about the legendary facial scars and had seen in a lot on the internet, but it was her first time seeing them in real life. He had short, cropped, reddish-brown hair.

She didn't linger on their appearances for too long, because the injured Latino had whipped out a pocket knife and didn't hesitate to slam it into her thigh. Brianne cried out at the searing pain, feeling her warm blood stain her jeans. She dropped her gun and both her hands went to the wound to hold the knife in place. If she took it out now, she would bleed even more. The three men reacted almost instantly. The dark-haired one pulled her away from the Latino, in case he tried anything again, and had her sit on a nearby stool. The other two made sure that the bastard wouldn't do that again.

„Let me see.“ The dark-haired one crouched in front of her and went to grab the knife. Brianne reacted and immediately regretted it. As she flinched away from him, she accidentally slightly moved the knife lodged into her thigh and it caused more blood to leak out of the wound and immense pain. She whimpered and pressed on the wound even more. The dark-haired man held his hands up in defense, his gun long forgotten on the ground. „I'm not gonna hurt you, lady.“

Before he tried to look at the wound again the Glasgow smile approached. „Let me Tiggy.“ Brianne was surprised at his accent and she looked up at him through the ginger locks that fell over her eyes. „Don't worry, darlin'.“ He crouched down, taking the dark-haired man's spot in front of her. „We will not hurt ye.“

„Ye're from Scotland?“ His eyes snapped up at her when she spoke with the same accent as him. Something fluttered in his heart for no reason as he stared at the green eyes, piercing his own.

„Aye,“ He nodded and gently placed his hands over hers, which were still pressing on the wound. „Name's Chibs. What's yers?“ He slowly held her hands and moved them away from the wound, making Brianne cringe at the slight pain from the movement. The Scotsman inspected the wound but made sure not to touch it or the knife.

„Brianne.“ She replied. In the distance, she could hear the sirens and Chibs' two friends looked like in a rush. Tiggy, as Chibs called him, looked through a window, inspecting the outside world while the other one inspected the bodies of the dead or alive, Brianne didn't know if they had killed the Latinos or not, men that had attacked them.

„Chibs, man, we gotta go.“ Tiggy reapproached the pair. „Just leave her, Five-O will call the ambulance.“

A look of uncertainty crossed Chibs' features as he looked back at his friend. „We can't leave her here. She saved our lives, Tig.“

Brianne's heart began pounding in her chest at the thought of getting admitted to the hospital or in the police records. They would find her immediately and send the hitman to bring her back, preferably dead. She looked between the two men, already feeling the panic settling in. „If ye leave me here, I will tell the police about ye. I will blame the bodies on ye.“ She didn't need to be a genius to realize they were on the outlaw side. Besides, she'd seen the leather kuttes they wore. 'Sons of Anarchy' are the talk of the town. She had heard about them and, whether or not she heard rumors or the truth, she figured that they don't need police snooping around their business.

Chibs looks back at Tig, with the 'What's your move now, genius?' look on his face. Tig sighed, shaking his head and running a hand through his dark brown locks. „Fine, get her up. But she's not bleeding over my bike.“ With a finger pointed at Chibs, he stated.

Chibs rolled his eyes and stood up, pulling a rag from his back pocket. „Here, should slow the bleeding for now.“ He wrapped the rag around the wound and the knife urgently, making Brianne hiss in pain. Chibs muttered a quiet 'sorry' under his breath and finished tying the ends of the rag. He and Tig quickly grabbed her by the arms and threw an arm around their necks each to support her through the ruined bar. The other man followed swiftly behind, picking up their discarded guns and urging them to walk quickly.

They went out back where three Harley Davidson bikes were parked. Chibs and Tig led Brianne around to the middle bike and Tig let her hand fall to her side. She couldn't hold her balance at that exact moment and began falling back, but Chibs snaked his arm around her waist until she could stand still. Then he helped her get on his bike and with an effort got on in front of her. „Hold on, darlin'!“ He said as he brought his bike to life and the bikers began riding out of the back alley one by one.

Brianne didn't know what she had gotten herself into, but she was glad to evade police investigation and being put into the system. Whatever the hell these bikers have going on, she won't be a part of. She just needed to get some rest by tomorrow and get the hell out of Charming. It wasn't safe for her to be around these outlaws whatsoever. If she gets associated with them, the police might bring her to the station at some point and as soon as she was recorded in the system, the Shadow Hand would be sending the Reaper. And she wanted to live at least a few more months until she could find a way to get overseas and back to the land she was born on. Her father didn't keep tabs on his family back in Scotland so she was sure it was the safest place she could stay at, at least for a few years. But first, she had to survive the night.

#tommy flanagan #chibs telford #theo rossi #sons of anarchy #tig trager #bobby munson #clay morrow #jax teller #chibs x oc #chibs telford fic

21 notes · View notes

musingsofmonica · 1 month

Text

February 2024 Diverse Read

February 2024 Diverse Reads:

•”My Beloved Life” by Amitava Kumar, February 27, Knopf Publishing Group, Historical/Literary/World Literature/India

•”Whiskey Tender: A Memoir” by Deborah Taffa, February 27, Harper, Personal Memoirs/Women/Cultural, Ethnic & Regional/Native American & Aboriginal

•”I Love You So Much It's Killing Us Both” by Mariah Stovall, February 13, Soft Skull, Contemporary/Coming of Age/Friendship/African American/Women

•”Private Equity: A Memoir” by Carrie Sun, February 13, Penguin Press, Personal Memoirs/Women in Business/Business/Finance/Wealth Management/Investments & Securities

•”Village in the Dark” by Iris Yamashita, February 13, Berkley Books, Mystery & Detective/Police Procedural/Thriller/Suspense/Women

•”Redwood Court” by Délana R. a. Dameron, February 06, Dial Press, Literary/Coming of Age/Women/African American/Southern

•”Wandering Stars” by Tommy Orange, February 27, Knopf Publishing Group, Literary/Cultural Heritage/Native American & Aboriginal

•Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop

Hwang Bo-Reum & Shanna Tan (Translator), February 20, Bloomsbury Publishing, Contemporary/City Life/World Literature/Korea

•”Dreaming of Ramadi in Detroit: Essays

Aisha Sabatini Sloan, February 20, Graywolf, Essays/Cultural, Ethnic & Regional/African American & Black/LGBT/Anthropology/Cultural & Social

•”The Things We Didn't Know” by Elba Iris Pérez, February 06, Gallery Books, Literary/Coming of Age/World Literature/Puerto Rico/20th Century

•“The Fox Maidens” by Robin Ha, February 13, Harperalley, Comics & Graphic Novels/Historical/Fairy Tales/Folklore/Legends & Mythology Fantasy/Romance/LGBT/World Literature/Korea

•”Hope Ablaze” by Sarah Mughal Rana, February 27, Wednesday Books, Magical Realism, Poetry/Religious/Muslim/Social Themes - Activism & Social Justice

•“ASAP” by Axie Oh, February 06, Harperteen, YA/Romance/Contemporary/Coming of Age/Asian American

•”Smoke and Ashes: Opium's Hidden Histories” by Amitav Ghosh, February 13, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, Nonfiction/Historical/Travelogue/Memoir/Family History/Essay in History/Globalism/Capitalism

•”Fathomfolk” by Eliza Chan, February 27, Orbit, Fantasy/Action & Adventure/Dragons & Mythical Creatures/East Asian Mythology

•”Ours” by Phillip B. Williams, February 20, Viking, Literary/Historical/African American/Magical Realism

•”Neighbors and Other Stories” by Diane Oliver, February 13, Grove Press, Short Stories/Literary/Historical/African American & Black

•”Greta & Valdin” by Rebecca K. Reilly, February 06, Avid Reader Press / Simon & Schuster, Literary/Romcom/Family Life/LGBT/Cultural Heritage/World Literature/New Zealand/Cultural, Ethnic & Regional/Russian-Maori-Catalonian/Indigenous/Polynesian

•”The American Daughters” by Maurice Carlos Ruffin, February 27, One World, Historical/Civil War Era/Saga/African American/Women

•”My Side of the River: A Memoir” by Elizabeth Camarillo Gutierrez, January 13, St. Martin's Press, Personal Memoirs/Cultural, Ethnic & Regional/Hispanic & Latino/Public Policy - Immigration

6 notes · View notes

leatherneck-70-blog · 3 months

Text

The Leatherman made his way to the hotel room. Walking down the hallway to the numbered room the guy told him to meet him at. His handsome dark face had a shiny glow. Being Latino gave him that leather brown face feature. His handsome hair glowed just as black ad his full black leather skin clothes. Shaved clean cut in the back and the sides. Slicked back tight and looking leathery. His leather body creaking as he walks getting closer to the room. His Adam's Apple is such turn on. Pointy and shiny. His barefooted leather boots shine as the let out a clunk on the old hotel wooden floor. Reaching the room he knocks with his tight black leathered hand. The door opens and the guy says, "Peter?" The Leathermen response with," Leathermen Peter Or Peter Leather" with a leather creaking voice. The guy let's him in. The guy can't stop looking at every bit of Peter Leather. Peter holding his muircap to his chest places it on his leather haired head. Looks at the typical guy. Wearing a white t shirt,jeans and a pair of green doc martins. Peter says," What do you want to do?" The guy walks to Peter and reaches for his left leather hand and holds it. Feeling tight leather hand. The smoothness of it and walks him to a chair. Having him sit down and offering his a glass of Whiskey. Peter says,"No. I don't drink" The guy in his mind thinks. Shit! I have to get this guy to drink something. "How about water?" Peter says," No. I'm not really thirsty." Again tge guy says in his mind "DAMN!" " Your leather is HOT!" the guy says. Peter looks around the room. The guy says" Can I have a kiss Leathermen. Slowly going in for the kiss. Peter bends forward to give the kiss. After the kiss the guy taste leather in his mouth. Peter is leather. Peter gets up and says," Is this all you wanted from me?" The guy says ," No.im just a little nervouse." Peter walks over and lays on the bed. "Come here" says Peter. The guy walks over and slipping in a phone charger cord in his pocket. He walks over and lays on the bed next to Peter. Peter tells him,"Touch my leg" The guys does. Peter grabs the back of his head and tells him,"DOWN BOY!!" Placing his head towards his crotch area. "LICK AND SUCK MY AREA!!" The guy can taste his leather crotch area. Peter's gets excited while he holds the guys head down there. The guy asks Peter if he can sit behind him and cuddle. Peter who loves cuddling agrees. Feeling,smelling the Leatherman Peter gets him horny. Hating to have to do it. He pulls out the phone cord with one hand and pulls Peter closer up to him. Pulling peters collar up on his leather shirt. Leaving the collar down on his leather jacket. Ke kisses Peter's neck. Just to throw off Peter on what hes doing. He grips the cord with his hands. He goes fast and wraps the cord around Peter's NECK!! Pulling tight Peter let's out a loud choke and then cough! Reaching fir his neck and trying to get his tight leather hands between the cord but can't. He creaks out a leather sound from his mouth with his wet tongue popped out with another cough. The guy tightness with all his might. Peter kicking into the guys legs as the guy yells. Peter keeps trying to pry the cord from his neck as the guy shakes Peter's head as it bobbs and drops off Peter's muircap. His black shiny leathered hair head shines again. Peter's now garroting with a leather creak in his neck. His smoke colored eyes are blood shot and they go white rolling up in his head. His leather chest heaves up and down for air but nothing. His tight leather body creaks loudly as he gasps and wheezes for leather life. Peter kicks one more time at the guys leg. This time he yells and the guy let's go. Peter gasps for air. Pulling away from the guy saying to him,"YOU FUCKERR!!! WHAT THE FUCKS WRONG WITH YOU!!" In a throaty leather voice coughing and pulling away to get off the bed. The guy says says,"Now your DEAD!" Peter frightened yells," NO!!!" Peter stumbles falling to the ground off the bed. The guy grabs the chair at the desk. Peter

2 notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 3 months

Note

Heyyy I'm back on Tumblr!! And thought that I should let you some songs rec based on my favourite

Pop: History - One direction

Jazz: False God - Taylor Swift

Rock: Schrei (Scream) (2006) - Tokyo Hotel

Electronic: Party Rock Anthem - LMFAO

Hip-hop: Princess Diana - Ice spice

Metal: Welcome to the jungle - Guns N' Roses

Blues: Tennessee Whiskey - Chris Stapleton

Country: Picture to burn - Taylor Swift

Classical: The four seasons - Vivaldi

Latino: Bam Bam - Camilla Cabello

Punk: Smells like teen spit - Nirvana

Soul: Daylight - David Kushner

Alternative: Call me what you like - Lovejoy

Folk: Betty - Taylor Swift

And I secretly don't really can't think of any other types of music

small thing before I and this : if you like Taylor swift can you tell me which one is your favourite between: Betty, August and Cardigan?

I love you and hope you the best 💖💖💖💖👑👑👑👑

Okay, so I'm not exactly the biggest swiftie but I was chronically online and borderline depressed in 2020 so I did have the folklore album on blast for a number of months, so THANKFULLY I have a very confident answer to your question: I am am August baby so August is definitely my choice, but I do love the entire album.

Also, thank you for so many song recs, I've uploaded them in the playlist now, and you can find them here!

#reidingmusic #reiderreplies

3 notes · View notes

mortemoppetere · 4 months

Text

TIMING: current LOCATION: a liquor store in wicked's rest SUMMARY: emilio gets some unsettling news from a friend. CONTENT WARNINGS: alcoholism, discussions of wrspice

“Guy came in looking for you earlier.” It was all the greeting Emilio was offered as he placed the bottle on the counter, Barry leaning nonchalantly against the register as he spoke. Immediately, the statement had Emilio on edge. He suspected the clerk had known such a result was coming, based on the self-satisfied smirk he was wearing now.

“Gonna give me any more than that?” He narrowed his eyes, hand still resting on the bottle that Barry hadn’t yet rung up. Rather than making any move to do that — regardless of the fact that it was his fucking job, Emilio might add — he only continued to stare at the slayer, brows raised high.

“Gonna make it worth my while?”

Emilio sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and letting his head fall back. “Seem to remember I was the one who helped track down your sister when you needed her to settle your uncle’s estate. That not count for anything?”

“You slept with her,” Barry replied, sounding genuinely offended.

“You never told me not to do that.”

“I thought it was implied. I didn’t ask you to —” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “No, that doesn’t count for anything. Not here. I’ve got information, you want it. So what are you going to give me for it?”

Glaring, Emilio reached into his pocket and made a show of pulling out a pair of twenties, shoving them in Barry’s direction. Barry snatched them with a grin, ringing up the bottle only after he’d pocketed the cash and wriggling his fingers in search of more money to pay for it. Emilio’s glare intensified.

Shrugging, Barry pulled his hand back, retrieving one of the twenties from his pocket and putting it into the register. “Didn’t catch his name.”

“All right, give me my goddamn money back before I beat you to death with this fucking whiskey, you pinche —”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Barry held up his hands in surrender, taking a step back, and Emilio paused. “I can tell you what he looked like.”

“Better make it a good description, or it’ll be your estate your sister settles next.”

“I’d never put someone who slept with you in my will.”

“Barry, I swear to God —”

“Okay! Jesus, anybody ever tell you you’ve got anger management problems?” Barry paused for half a second before accepting that the question would not be answered and, with a sigh, continued. “He was Latino. Middle-aged. Fifties, maybe sixties? Accent sounded a lot like yours.”

And that… That meant nothing good. From the description, the guy was from Mexico, and no one from Mexico would want anything decent with Emilio. Either he was one of the vampires who’d been involved in the attack or he was someone from town who’d lost everything and tracked him here. Either way, him knowing Emilio was alive and knowing what town to find him in spelled trouble.

“What did he want?”

His tone must have left little room for argument, because Barry didn’t hold his hand out for more cash. Instead, he shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not your fuckin’ secretary, am I?”

“Did you tell him where to find me?”

At this, Barry looked almost offended. “He didn’t pay me enough.” Despite the words, there was a hint of loyalty burning behind the clerk’s eyes. Emilio might have been a little rough around the edges, and he might piss Barry off far more often than not, but he knew the guy did have something of a soft spot for him. Hunting down his sister for him had saved him a lot of trouble, even if he wasn’t entirely pleased about what she and Emilio had gotten up to after she was found.

“Okay,” Emilio sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, good. He comes back, call me. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Nothing you’ve ever given me has made getting involved in your shit worth my while, Em.”

Emilio snorted at that, nodding his head. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “You’ll call?”

“Yeah, yeah. He comes back, I’ll get what I can out of him and pass it along. Now get the fuck out of my store.”

Grabbing the bottle, Emilio raised it half-heartedly to the clerk and turned to leave, already twisting off the top.

“And Emilio?” Barry’s voice followed him, and he paused without turning. “Stay the fuck away from my sister. I mean it this time.”

“I’ll tell her you said hi.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah.” He huffed a quiet laugh before exiting the store, shoulders tense the moment his shoes hit the asphalt outside.

Someone asking about him. Christ. He should’ve seen it coming. After all, he’d been in the game long enough to know that nothing ever stayed buried for long.

#self para #wickedswriting #shadows walk the streets

5 notes · View notes

inkandguns · 2 years

Text

The end of my foray in to providing affordable housing: a rant

I left my parent's home with nothing but my car, guitar, and bag full of clothes at the age of 19. At this time the economy was pretty shitty and I was living in the suburban sanctuary city area of Chicagoland. Gas and rent prices were high and the competition in the job market was intense. Latino workers new to the area had more years of experience and more skills than any of us young kids at the time, so they usually got the good high paying jobs that didn't require college. The young spoiled suburban kids competed with one of the best labor forces that has ever been created. Being homeless didn't phase me much. I had plenty of training in living outside from the Boy Scouts (I'm an Eagle Scout), and I had a good work ethic.

Times were tough, but one of the biggest blessings during that time of my life was that I was able to eventually rent a room from a friend who had bought a small condo. Rent took up anywhere from 50%-75% of my income, and I was taking home less than 15k a year. Any time I could I would pick up work with a temp agency or friends with landscaping jobs when they needed a bigger crew. It felt like no matter what you did, someone was there to economically push your head back under water every time you caught a breather.

I would continue to live in poverty like this until I enlisted in the US Army. Fast forward to one year after my Army contract and I was buying my first home. I had continued to work in the medical field and had applied for and been granted a small amount of disability money from the VA. The housing market in Colorado was, and is totally jacked, so when I bought the house it was actually more than 50% cheaper than renting an apartment. After my ex who I had moved in there with and I split up, I moved in a couple of friends.

Things started out badly. My long term friend who I had helped out by charging very low rent to is an awful person to live with. He's cheated me on rent, negligently discharged a 9mm round almost killing me, and has broken 2 windows he refuses to fix. Additionally I had included a discount for if they could keep the lawn mowed - but this guy just wouldn't help the other one. After two months of sitting them down and talking about responsibility and team work, they still couldn't work together. So I pulled the discount and collected the extra cash from them. Things would not improve as I tried moving in different people.

I moved in a young couple. I had gone to school with the boyfriend and he assured me their stay would be short. His mother was mentally ill, and their apartment had about 3 feet of trash, clothes, and papers in the entire dwelling. Reluctantly I gave my friend a chance. It was only a couple of weeks before I caught him stealing my tools. So that couple didn't work out. They left within the first two months. Next, I took in a friend who was living in a van by the pool hall. He had some kind of persecution complex - accused me of racism, all of that kind of stuff. I let him park the van in the driveway and gave him a key to my mini-house. Eventually he would begin refusing to pay the small amount of money I was charging him. He then stole my portable air conditioner and was never heard from again.

A guy that I served with in the Army was staying at my place for free. He began using meth and started drinking an insane amount of whiskey and was eventually stabbed twice in the chest by his ex girlfriend. After his manic episodes started to get violent I had to ask him to leave. I could keep going with these stories - I have many. In the end I've only had 3 people out of about 12 live there that have been decent people. One of the worst ones was when I tried to help my meth addict friend get back on his feet. I got my notary public so I could help him get his ID, let him live in my garage for NO MONEY AT ALL. My only condition was that he was the only one allowed in the garage and that if he used meth, to do it behind the garage. After coming home too many times to people smoking meth in my garage, I kicked him out.

So clearly I've had bad experiences providing affordable housing. But what's going to happen across the market when investors realize that low income housing is just a total waste of money? It seems like every week there's another horror story from Colorado Springs about renters taking complete advantage of their landlords. The biden eviction freeze didn't help either. Without the possible threat of eviction tenants were allowed to get away with some insane shit.

The move away from affordable housing is very clear in South Downtown Colorado Springs. Older affordable housing buildings and single family homes have been knocked down in favor of expensive high rise luxury apartments. Entire families are being priced out of the city - because why would an investor rent to a random? They can rent to people based on income and ask for a very high income level. They can rent to primarily military, in which they have the JAG officials and unit commanders to go to with grievances. In Moses Lake, the town I now live next to, affordable housing came in the form of the government leaving the small Army base for the locals to buy and rent. The Base, formerly post housing, is the dirtiest and most violent area of town. There are frequent shootings and the residents admit that they in fear of the growing violence. Blessed with the opportunity to live in affordable housing, the locals have chosen to sink to the lowest level possible - turning an affordable community in to a drug filled and violent shithole.

There is zero motivation to manage, build, or develop affordable housing. So what will happen? I think within a few years we are going to see a lot of cities starting to look like Portland with people living in their vehicles wherever they are allowed to. So will the government step in and force current property owners to rent at lower prices? Probably, since most cities are controlled by big government democrats. New York is already pushing to use hotels and empty offices for those that cannot or will not find housing. Medium sized suburbs will be flooded with vagrants, their police departments unable to stem the tide. In my situation I only had good renters 25% of the time. I attribute this to people just being shitty nowadays. Laziness and dishonesty were the two biggest problems with my renters. No matter how low I went with rent or expectations of decency, people were always prepared to go lower. What kind of sane investor want to make a 25% return on investment while at the same time incurring expensive damages, dealing with law enforcement, and having to deal with the county to serve evictions? I've got my favorite renter of all time moving back in this upcoming winter. He's a good friend who has never done me wrong. He's paid on time and really respected my space. When he moved out the first time, I could barely tell there was anyone in his space and it smelled like purple fabuloso. After that I am not moving anyone in ever again. My attempt at helping people has been nothing but an abject failure. And for my parting words of this rant I'll point out the most disturbing part of this in my opinion. The most disturbing part of this to me is the low quality of people's character. Most people's word cannot be trusted. I tell my young guys that work for me this all the time: You can be bleeding, naked, and dying in the gutter and the only thing that cannot be taken from you is your integrity. You must hold on to it at all costs. If you are a man of your word it will bring you farther in this world than any amount of wealth. Being a man of my word got me the excellent start in the career field I am in now. My current boss just wanted to know if I could be trusted and nothing else. I entered the agricultural industry with nothing but the honor of my good name, which will never be taken from me.

#Colorado Springs #Affordable Housing #me #grow season 2022

10 notes · View notes

mxshr0mz · 2 months

Text

me: im part (southern) american but i dont listen to country music and i usually just tell people im asian-latino

also me: This ain't Texas (woo), ain't no hold 'em (hey)So lay your cards down, down, down, downSo park your Lexus (woo) and throw your keys up (hey)Stick around, 'round, 'round, 'round, 'round (stick around)And I'll be damned if I can't slow dance with youCome pour some sugar on me, honey tooIt's a real life boogie and a real life hoedownDon't be a bitch, come take it to the floor now, woo, huh (woo)There's a tornado (there's a tornado) in my city (in my city)In the basement (in the basement), that shit ain't pretty (shit ain't pretty)Rugged whiskey (rugged whiskey) 'cause we survivin' ('cause we survivin')Off red cup kisses, sweet redemption, passin' time, yeahOoh, one step to the rightWe headin' to the dive bar we always thought was niceOoh, run me to the leftThen spin me in the middle, boy, I can't read your mindThis ain't Texas (woo), ain't no hold 'em (hey)So lay your cards down, down, down, downSo park your Lexus (woo) and throw your keys up (hey)Stick around, 'round, 'round, 'round, 'round (stick around)And I'll be damned if I can't slow dance with youCome pour some sugar on me, honey tooIt's a real life boogie and a real life hoedownDon't be a bitch, come take it to the floor now (woo)And I'll be damned if I cannot dance with youCome pour some liquor on me, honey tooIt's a real life boogie and a real life hoedownDon't be a bitch, come take it to the floor now (woo)Woo-hooWoo-hooWoo-hooThere's a heatwave (there's a heatwave) coming at us (coming at us)Too hot to think straight (too hot to think straight)Too cold to panic (cold to panic)All of the problems just feel dramatic (just feel dramatic)And now we're runnin' to the first spot that we find, yeahOoh, one step to the rightWe headin' to the dive bar we always thought was niceOoh, you run to the leftJust with me in the middle, boy, I can't read your mindThis ain't Texas (woo), ain't no hold 'em (hey)So lay your cards down, down, down, down, ohSo park your Lexus (hey), throw your keys up (hey)Stick around, 'round, 'round, 'round, 'round (stick around)And I'll be damned if I cannot dance with youCome pour some sugar on me, honey, tooIt's a real life boogie and a real life hoedownDon't be a bitch, come take it to the floor now (woo)And I'll be damned if I cannot dance with youCome pour some liquor on me honey, tooIt's a real life boogie and a real life hoedownDon't be a-, come take it to the floor now, oohTake it to the floor now, oohHoops, spurs, bootsTo the floor now, oohTuck, back, oops (ooh, ooh, ooh)ShootCome take it to the floor now, oohAnd I'll be damned if I cannot dance with youBaby, pour that sugar and liquor on me tooFurs, spurs, bootsSolargenic, photogenic, shoot

#i dont have the energy to write the lyrics #not art #not fanfic

0 notes

chiveraccs · 3 months

Text

Whiskey: Uncle Nearest 1856

Tengo mis reservas acerca de esta marca. No porque en un inmenso mercado de hombres blancos con una larga tradición de destilación, este whiskey sea un producto hecho por mujeres negras. Al final el mundo del whiskey debería ser más diverso y es solo normal que buscando esa diversidad aparezca. Quién quita que haya también algún whiskey hecho por latinos, por ejemplo. Al final el mercado es…

View On WordPress

#Uncle Nearest #USA #Whisk(e)y

0 notes

rig-bee · 4 months

Text

Sneaky Links

Context: Namora belongs to a friend of mine (Yanna), Sammy and Divina Diaz are my characters

Fandoms: MHA, Spiderverse

TW: Drinking, smoking, grinding, petnames, unsafe sex, cunnilingus, oral sex

A/N: Sammy and Divina are Afro-Latina fyi

20 minutes later, she found herself in front of Sammy's apartment. It was in a shady part of town, but Sammy owned enough lead to dare people to test him. Something she somewhat admired about him.

She shifted her skirt downwards as she knocked on his door again, her thing riding up her ass as she waited for him to answer the door. "Cmon Sammy…its fuckin' freezing out here…" It truly was. Middle of December, actually, when it was the coldest. Her hands rubbed against her white fur coat, shivering as she continued to wait for the Cuban man.

"Sammy!" She pounded on the door, shivering as her balled fist banged on his door. "It's cold, asshole!"

Soon enough, the tall Afro-Latino man answered the door, wearing a black beanie and an all-black outfit. Black jeans, a black shirt, and some black timberlands. "Woah…" She gasped, chuckling to herself as she eyed him up and down. "Who you gonna go kill?"

"Tch, you ain't funny." He chuckled, opening the door wider for his new guest.

"You know im fuckin' funny." She teases, walking into his apartment. His TV is still on, a bottle of whiskey planted on his coffee table with a blunt still lit in his ashtray. "You havin' fun without me?"

"Girl, shut up." Sammy chuckled, taking off his beanie and jacket. "I was actually planning to come get you from your car."

"Oh, Sams."Namora sits down on his couch, looking up at the taller man with a smile. "You didn't have to do that."

"I'm a gentleman, believe it or not." He chuckles, walking over to his kitchen. Namora's eyes carved his figure as he did, eyeing all his tattoos and features. His veiny arms. His neck tattoo and matching sleeves. His pierced ears. His mole right above the right side of his lips.

This man was fine. And he knew it too.

The sound of him pulling back his refrigerator filled her ears, the sound of glass bottles clanking together as he did. "Yo NaNa…what you want to wanna drink mama?"

NaNa. His persnoal little nickanme for her. Another giggle left her lips as her stomach flipped once more, her thighs crossing over one another as she smirked at him. "You got any tequila?"

"Do I got any tequila?" Sammy chuckled, walking over to one of his cabinets. He opened it, grabbing a big bottle of tequila with a smirk on his face. "Always for you, NaNa."

Namora smiled as he approached her, holding just the bottle in his hand. "No cups?" She asked, looking up into his eyes.

"Nah… I wanna try something." He whispered, twisting the cap off the bottle and flicking it somewhere to the floor. "You trust me?"

"Yea? Why?" Namora watched as Sammy swigged down some tequila, his gaze never leaving hers. She couldn't help but be curious, eyebrow raisin in curiosity as she stared at him."Uhm….Am I.."

Sammy finally put the bottle, aggressively slamming it against the coffee table to make Namora jump. "Sammy, what--"

He doesn't let her finish her sentence. Instead, he grabs her face and forces his tongue in her mouth, allowing the fiery liquid to smooth down her throat. Namora yelped in surprise as he pushed her back against the couch, her curly hair colliding against his soft couch cushions.

Sammy hummed into the aggressive kiss, his tongue tasting her saliva as he forced more tequila mixed with his spit even deeper into her mouth.

Her blue eyes fluttered shut as she indulged in the kiss, wrapping her hands around the back of his head as she pushed his head closer to hers, deepening their kiss.

"Mm..hold on, hold on…" Sammy pulled away, staring Namora into her baby blue eyes. Her copper skin was flushed with arousal and desire, her curly hair a mess on his couch. She looked so damn pretty for him, and to think he wasn't even really touching her yet.

Sammy couldn't help but chuckle, wiping away some lone tequila on her lip with his thumb. "Damn, NaNa..didn’t think you'd like that so damn much, chiquita."

Namora huffed a slight chuckle, rolling her blue eyes as she turned her head. "Ha, Ha, you're so funny…"

Sammy chuckled before sitting up, grabbing her body closer to his. "You know im funny, stop playing with me…"

Their bodies shifted on top of his couch cushions, their heartbeats thudding in their ears as Sammy stared into Namora's blue eyes. "I ever tell you how pretty your eyes are?" His voice was soft as he pulled her body into his lap, draping her curvy frame back as he grabbed his half-lit blunt. "Cuidado mami… no quiero que lastimes ese hermoso cuerpo tuyo ahora, ¿verdad?"

Namora felt her cheeks heat up as he spoke Spanish in her ear, her bottom lip colliding against her teeth as she gnawed on the dead skin. "You know I don't know Spanish Samuel…"

"Ya ain't got to." He whispered in her ear. "Now….shut up and smoke wit me, chiquita."

Sammy leaned back and stared at her once more, putting his blunt in between his lips and pulling it back. His gaze never left hers as he let the hazy smoke fill his lungs, slowly pulling out his lungs as he exhaled.

"You're staring awfully hard." Namora said with a slight smirk, her hands resting on his abdomen. Sammy chuckled at her hand placement before reaching his tattooed hand up to her soft face.

"And you bein' awfully bold." He chuckled, pulling her lips apart and placing the blunt in her mouth. "Now, chiquita….start smokin'."

*Namora obeyed his commands, dragging the smoke into her mouth and lungs as she stared at him. Their gaze never broke or disconnected as Sammy watched Namora take a hit from his blunt, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed as she took in the beautiful man before her. She knew good and well that Sammy was nothing but a filthy drug, one she had no problem taking in. *

She knew the dangers of getting involved with a guy like him would be bad news, but it's not like anyone would half to know. Their little secret… that's all that mattered.

Sammy soon pulled the blunt out of her mouth, watching her about to blow the smoke out. "Nuh-uh." He stopped her, pulling her curvy figure to his. Their bodies flushed together like two broken puzzle pieces finding their homes; in some sick, twisted way, that's exactly how it was. "…..come 'ere." His tatted hand wrapped around her neck, pulling her head closer to his. "Kiss me chiquita…"

Namora leaned into him, melting under his touch as he pulled her deeper into his spell. She slid her hands up to his face, cupping his stubbled face as her irises bored into his. Never in her lifetime would she ever thought dark brown eyes looked so mystical and majestic, but on Sammy? She could get lost for millennia in those damn eyes.

In one swift motion, their lips collided against each other, the hazy smoke pooling from Namora's mouth to Sammy's. She felt him grunt in her mouth from satisfaction, his fingers burying into her soft skin as he pulled her hips against his. A quiet moan left her lips as desire coursed through her veins, his fingers feeling like fire and electricity simultaneously.

She knew it was wrong. She knew this was her best friend's brother, but that's what made it even sexier--the danger. The danger of being caught. The danger of getting addicted. The danger of being so wrapped up in his touch and taste that she'd drown.

Fuck, she loved it.

Sammy forced her hips down on his once more, another grunt being forced from his lips. Her body was so warm, not to mention he could feel that almost hypnotizing second heartbeat thudding against his groin. Part of him couldn't help but be amused--kissing was all it took for her to melt into a puddle? How cute. But then again, he was rock hard from grinding against her and slipping his tongue down her throat. So, in a sense, he wasn't any better.

"I feel your heartbeat, chiquita…" Sammy whispered against her lips, hands running all across her sides. Namora arched her back again, quietly whimpering against him as her breast pressed against his defined chest.

"You…You can feel my heartbeat?" She shyly asked, warmth flooding to her face. Is her racing heartbeat really that obvious?

"Mhm." Sammy nodded. "But--"

Namora didn't even have the time to think before Sammy tossed her off of his lap, pinning her down to his couch. Hands above her head, legs spread, ankles beside his thighs. She was much more vulnerable in this position, and he knew by the way he was smirking down at her. "It's not the heartbeat you thinkin' of." He whispered.

"Which…" Namora swallowed hard, looking up at the man with puppy dog eyes. "Which heartbeat then..?"

He could fuck her right now. He really could. But, he wanted to be patient--make her scream out for him before he ruined her.

"How about I show you…yea?" Sammy took one hand and slowly slid up her thighs, biting his lip as he felt her cold skin. "Damn NaNa…your skin so cold…."

Namora forced out a chuckle as she shivered under his touch, resisting the urge to buck into him. "K-Kept me outside for so long…I couldn't help but to be cold.."

"Oh, I did?" Sammy chuckled, rolling his brown eyes. "Thought you could handle a little cold, mamas."

"Don't be a fuckin--" Namora's voice immediately cut off as his fingers reached her throbbing entrance, her eyes almost rolling back from the sudden sensation.

Sammy smirked as he felt the little wet spot settling between her folds, his fingerpad slowly pushing the fine fabric even more against her needy cunt as he slid up to her clit. Another strong jolt from Namora caused him to chuckle, his cock twitching in his jeans as he watched her writhe and squirm under his touch. "Right here…That's where you need it, right, NaNa?"

Namora struggled to speak, half words of 'yes' and 'don't stop' spilling from her mouth as her eyes shut tightly. Her hands wiggled in his grasp as he drew small, slow circles around her swollen clit, her back arching from the delicious pleasure he gave her. "Sammy~!"

"I'm right here, NaNa." He whispered, watching her lose himself to him--for him. "¿Tienes idea de lo hermosa que te ves ahora?" He grunted, rubbing her clit just a tiny bit faster as his self control slowly began to diminish. "¿Sabes lo difícil que es para mí no arrancar estas bonitas bragas y follarte hasta que lo único que sabes es mi nombre?"

Namora squirmed even more, his pace slowly quickening as he spoke to her. Even with the language barrier--she knew what he meant. She could tell with how heavy his breath was getting, how he was hovering over her like she was his prey as if she were the very apple of his eye. "N-Ngh~! S-Sammy, please--"

"Por que, mamas…." He responded, his finger speeding up once more. "Talk to me, NaNa. Come on, let me hear you…Let me--fuck--let me hear you mamas."

Namora let out a high-pitched whine, her legs shaking around his thighs as she struggled to breathe. It was almost too much--his beautiful words of encouragement all while he was abusing her sensitive bud. Her toes curled in her heels as she moaned out his name, her blue eyes rolling to the back of her head as she did. "Samuel~!"

"Shh, shh, shh…" He quietly shushed her, chuckling under his breath. "Shush NaNa…I wanna be the only one that hears those filthy fuckin' moans….got it?"

Part One

#writers #oc x oc #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #female writers #smut #lemon

0 notes