#meth around and find out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetchildcloud · 1 month

Text

Polyamorous headcannon with Geto and Gojo ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

contain s#lf h#rm,sex (not explit) hope you like this ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡

@kiwicopia

(i choose this two pics c'ause it represent they're personality in the reletionship)

i totally didn't create this for my thirtsy needy b#tch a*s

Geto and Satoru are in a closeted poly relationship with you. You three are a team not only in work, but in life as well. When you are with them they never want to let you go even in your apartment. Even when you are sleeping the two are always making out or cuddling next to you.

Satoru and Geto often have cooking contests to see who can cook the better dish. It’s all in good taste though as they always share the dish they make with you. Geto takes great pride in his cooking, while Satoru is more so passionate about it. Both are great cooks nonetheless. Both are very protective of you, and you’re the one with final say in who wins and who loses. They won't get too overcompetitive because they can’t risk you being angry with them or losing you.

The three of you are out grocery shopping. Geto and Satoru usually have disagreements on what to get and what not to get, they’re like night and day. Geto is more reserved and is fine with eating any old food whereas Satoru really puts effort into his cooking and wants to take his time buying the freshest ingredients for the meal he is planning to make. You on the other hand are in the middle and keep everything from becoming too heated between the two. Satoru is also more flirty and playful with you than Geto is.

Geto and Satoru are constantly trying to win you over with affection. They’ll sneak off with you to find a quiet corner away from others and kiss you fiercely while hugging you close to them. The two are always competing to see who can make you the most flustered by their gestures of affection. If you decide to take a break from the shopping and sit down to rest, they’ll both try to sit as close to your as possible. Satoru is more affectionate out in public whereas Geto tends to dial it down in public.

You, Geto and Satoru are just hanging out in the living room, the two are busy playing video games to which you couldn’t care less. Geto is a bit of a sore loser and so Satoru purposefully loses to him so Geto can have the satisfaction of beating his friend. As a prize Geto asks for a kiss from you, and Satoru can’t help but pout because Geto beat him to showing affection towards you this time.

Satoru and Geto have gotten comfortable with being openly affectionate around you. The two of them will make out in front of you whether you’re in your apartment or theirs, or out and about. Satoru is also very clingy and has a habit of latching onto you whenever you are within his reach. Geto also wants to get a chance to show his affection to you and will do so through hugs and kisses, both are very clingy and like you to cling to them as well. Satoru loves calling you “baby” and will call you that often.

Geto gets extremely protective if someone dares to intentionally hurt you in any way. He would most likely fight them and give them a black eye or a busted lip. Satoru is more likely to confront the person verbally rather than physically he would either chew them out or give them a scathing look that’s enough to shame them. Both are protective of you but in different ways, Geto physically and Satoru verbally. However both wouldn’t hesitate to jump at the chance to protect you from any kind of harm regardless of the method.

Geto is very protective of you and does not react fondly whenever someone hurts you. He would get very angry and hostile towards the individual who’s hurting you and threaten them to stay away from you. Satoru is the same but slightly more reserved than Geto. When the two are around and someone hurts you they would try to both comfort and console you. They would stay by your side until they see you smile again or see you happy. They would also get a bit jealous of whoever is hurting you, thinking that they are taking you away from them.

Geto and Satoru are constantly bickering about something small, it doesn’t take much to set them off. While they are always at constant verbal war over petty things, when it comes to actual important issues that could possibly hurt you their petty rivalries immediately take a backseat. They never let the petty arguments affect the way they feel about you and always make sure you don’t get involved in the arguments. They both are equally worried about your safety and wellbeing, and they would never let a petty argument get in the way of you being happy and healthy.

Geto and Satoru are not afraid to show their passion or affection in the bedroom. They are both equal in their desire for you and love exploring your body and trying out new things. They both can get quite possessive of you. They have both agreed that sharing you three has been one of the best things to happen to them. Geto and Satoru may have fights and be completely opposite of one another. But when it comes to you, all pettiness is out of the window.

As the three of you are hanging out, things inevitably lead to the bedroom. Geto and Satoru start making out while they are pushing you to the bed. The two are extremely eager, and are pushing each other away to get to you first. Once Geto and Satoru finally manage to get[you in the bed, things get even more heated as they each try to make you flustered. They’re both flirting with you and using their words to try and seduce you. Geto and Satoru are both equally eager and both want to be the one to give you more pleasure in bed. While they are both equally eager, they do have a bit of a competitive streak in them still. Each one wants to please you more than the other.

Geto and Satoru’s competitive streak in the bedroom doesn’t just apply to who can please you better. Geto and Satoru are both very fit due to their training, but they still like to challenge each other’s strength. Both will be equally determined to pin the other down to the bed and be the dominant one during the session, but they won't get too rough unless you want them to. The two love using their bodies to prove their dominance while making sure to do it in a way that pleases you.

If you ask the two to switch, they will without hesitation. They aren’t too proud to switch positions if you ask them to. Despite their competitive streak, they respect your wishes as well as your boundaries. Neither will cross a boundary unless you have given them permission beforehand. Geto and Satoru are both passionate and determined in the bedroom, but they aren’t too prideful to admit when they’re at a loss, and they always try to please you. They make the best of your love making sessions, and they always have a good time with you.

When you’re feeling down or like you just want a day to relax, the two of them are always willing to cuddle you and let you lay your head down on their lap. Satoru, being the more affectionate of the two, is always looking for a chance to hug and cuddle you, whereas Geto is more reserved and less of a cuddly type he will still happily hold you in his arms. The two of them always make sure to pamper you and show their affection towards you whenever you need it, and they never hesitate to give you comfort. Despite the differences in how they are after sex, both of them are equally affectionate towards you. As Satoru showers, Geto will stay by your side cuddling you after the intense session you three just had. Satoru will get out of the shower and join you two in bed with a smug playfully teasing expression on his face teasing Geto for being clingy in front of you. Satoru is a bit more playful after the session than Geto is, which you find amusing as you’re cuddled between the two.

Satoru and Geto are always keeping an eye on your mental state. They always pay attention to when you get anxious or if you’re feeling down. They don’t pester you with incessant questions asking if you’re okay because they don’t want to annoy you with such, however they do occasionally check in on your feelings by giving hugs, kisses and letting you relax while they’re next to you. You never have to fake a smile or pretend to be happy around them, the two always know when you’re not okay.

When you feel sad and are having a hard time coping, Satoru is the one who would cook you a comforting meal and give you a long warm hug. Geto on the other hand, is the one who wants to comfort you by simply laying down next to you and holding you as you vent to him about what is causing you to be so sad. They want to take the burden off of your shoulders and take your mind off of whatever is bothering you with comfort.

As you’re feeling down and are close to tears, the two of them are both trying to comfort you in their own ways. Geto wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him while gently rubbing your back in a soothing manner. Satoru walks up to you and stands behind you before wrapping his arms over your shoulders and kissing the back of your neck. He holds you as tight as he can and speaks softly to you. Both of them are trying their best to distract you from the source of your sadness, so you can have a calm mind.

When you’re feeling overwhelmed or depressed and have self harmed, Geto and Satoru would immediately check in on you. They’re aware of your past and understand that self harm is something you do to cope with your emotions. Instead of getting concerned and pestering you with questions about why you self harm and if you’re okay, the two sit next to you to comfort you and let you calm down. Satoru rubs and holds your hand to soothe you. Geto just sits by you calmly letting you lean and cuddle into his chest.

The two are highly attentive and notice that while you may not want to speak about why you have self harmed, they both know that it is something you do. Neither really presses the issue or pries at you for more information. Instead, they both choose to let you lean and cuddle with them while doing small things to comfort you. Neither of them are going to get mad at you or yell at you for self harming, instead they both try to be as supportive as possible. Geto might also take you over to a store and buy you your favorite candies as a little treat.

140 notes · View notes

evilmario666 · 1 year

Text

One Direction: Breaking Bad

A fanfic I wrote. A Breaking Bad AU. Jesse and Walter completely live in the van. Walter is evil.

Jesse Pinkman makes a big mistake in the van... So Walter White takes it into his own hands. What happens when 5 boys arrive after seeing an ad in the streets of Albuquerque?

Find out... In One Direction: Breaking Bad.

(Jesse POV)

“BITCH!” I screamed.

And just like that, all of our test tubes were knocked over. They shattered on the ground, and in that moment, I saw my terrified expression in the shards as they split into smaller pieces.

I felt sick. I wanted to throw up.

“Jesse, you idiot!” My bald mentor scolds me. “That’s the fifth time this has happened! I can’t afford any more test tubes! Jesse, there’s a shortage of those i the country right now, Jesse. They cost so much. Jesse!” He grabs me by my scruff and dangles me above the floor. “We sold all of our meth already. But I don’t have enough money for test tubes. Damn it.”

“Yo! Walter White! I was - I was -”

“I watched Jane die,” Walter White spat at me.

“Ok” I said sadly. More like Walter Freak, I thought to myself. I didn’t continue my sentence. My scruff hurt as he dangled me above the ground.

“I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you! You know, Jesse, you’re expendable. You’re just a company resource. You’re as replacable as the shoes I would stomp on you again and again, if I weren’t holding back.”

“Let go of my scruff, yo!” I frowned.

“Fine” Walter said as he threw me on the ground. He stomped away angrily, leaving me by myself in the van we called home.

(Walter POV, 1 day later)

“That aught to do it.”

I stapled the advertisement to the tree near the street. I laughed evilly.

“I will sell Jesse to someone, and then I will get enough money to buy new test tubes and materials.” It was a perfect plan. Though, I would be the ultimate judge. I would only sell Jesse to a buyer who is a good singer.

My favorite band is One Direction. I was going to go to a concert next week, but I won’t have enough money unless this twink gets sold, I thought to myself.

Just as I thought about that thought, 5 familiar boys approached me, their eyes locked on the advertisement...

(Jesse POV)

I was dressing for another day of sitting around smoking weed in the van. I put on my favorite Firestar (Warrior Cats) shirt from Redbubble and my baggy jeans. I threw on my Aoba Seragaki cosplay jacket. I looked in the mirror and frowned. My hair had grown out since I began living in the van. I needed a new style, this shit sucked.

I put it in a messy bun. I smiled. I looked like a cute babygirl but a boy. Then, suddenly, the door opened.

“Yo, Mr. White! Are you back with some yaoi, bitch?” I asked. Walter White was also a male fujoshi (not fudanshi it’s different).

“Jesse.” He looked really serious. “I sold you.”

“Bitch?” I began crying.

“Meet your new owners.” Then, 5 boys walked in...

It was... One Direction!!!!!

“Yo, Mr. White, is this some kinda prank?” I was so confused that I cried even more.

“They paid over the 5,000 I had set for you. They paid me 10 million dollars, in exchange for your cooking skills.” He grinned and shook Harry’s hand.

I was shocked. Liam smiled at me. He had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. “My cooking skills, bitch?!”

Louis shot me a wicked smile. “The meth cooking skills. We think you could be... of special use, with that.”

Zayn gave me a signature 1D stare. “Yes... Yes. You have a boyish exterior too,” he said, calculating and breathing heavily. “The sort of exterior that makes concert halls bustling. The sort of exterior that brings you to stardom.”

Harry let go of Walter’s hand, and bared his fangs at me. Was... Was Harry Styles a vampire?!?!?!??!

“You see, Harry, um...” Louis looked really serious and began crying. “Harry got bitten by a methpire... Now HE’S a methpire!!!!”

I tilted my head like a cute anime girl. “What’s a methpire?”

“It’s like a vampire, but instead of blood, it’s meth. You don’t snort it or anything, you just put it in your mouth and absorb it into your fangs. It doesn’t get you high or anything, but it’s the only way a methpire can feed.” Harry looked really hungry. “I haven’t had meth to eat in months.”

“He’s starving!” Liam cried. “He’s going to shrivel up into ash and die if we don’t do something! Please, Jesse! You must cook for us!”

I looked at Walter. Then I looked at Liam again.

“Do I have any choice, bitch?” I asked.

Walter White snarled at me like a wolf ready to pounce. “No not really”

“Ok”

And that was the day.... My life changed forever.

#Mario posts #One Direction: Breaking Bad

1K notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for being in a shared apartment too much?

🏠✨to find this again.

I (27F) have lived in an apartment (2 bed 1 bath) with the same roommate (26F) for 3.5 years. Let’s call her Jane. We’ve always gotten along well and have been (from my perspective, anyway) compatible roommates. For the past year, however, Jane has been increasingly unhappy about me being in our apartment at the same time as her. She’ll either leave the apartment just before or just after I get home, or hole up in her room, or stay out late until she thinks I’ll be asleep, or just be noticeably bummed about me being around.

We’ve talked about it once, and her response was essentially “it’s not you, it’s me”—that she just likes time to have the apartment to herself and putter around, especially after traveling or being out of town. (She will usually avoid me for about five days after coming back from a trip.) She also said that me staying in my room and out of the common areas during certain times is not enough—I need to be out of the apartment entirely. Last summer, we agreed that I would be out of the apartment from 11am-3pm on Sundays so that she has that guaranteed alone time in the apartment in addition to the other times I’m out of the apartment for work or meeting up with friends. She hasn’t told me explicitly, but this seems to not be enough.

Points of note:

- We are both graduate students with fairly flexible schedules. We’re on campus a minimum of 3-4 hours 2 or 3 days a week to teach and are usually on campus additional days for meetings or events—but (technically speaking) our job is to research and write. We’re not typically “at the office” from 9–5.

- I work from home as often as I can. When I’m not on campus to teach or attend an event, I’ll typically just come back home. We don’t get paid much, so I like to be home for meals to avoid buying lunch or paying for a coffee in order to work at a cafe. So, admittedly, I am often at the apartment for most of the day.

- For my part, I don’t mind Jane being in the apartment at the same time as me, and I honestly miss being able to chat with her during our breaks from work or study. So this is not really a mutual dislike.

- Jane is not doing anything nefarious in the apartment while I’m gone (it’s small enough that I would know if she was cooking meth or something lmao). She just genuinely wants to be alone to hang out in the apartment.

- I don’t typically hang out in the common areas for work or play, and I don’t leave my own stuff there. When I’m at home I tend to stay in my room, except when cooking.

- I have made no major life changes during the time she began to dislike having me in the apartment. Whenever I ask her if there’s any particular behavior I could change, she says there isn’t. During this same span of time, however, Jane has been under increased stress due to academic deadlines and some extra jobs, which is probably a contributing factor.

I’m graduating next spring and plan to move to live with my partner in a different city—so the problem is solved in the long term. But I’m curious whether I’m missing some key roommate etiquette.

Is it an asshole move to spend most of my time in a shared apartment?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

137 notes · View notes

cloveroctobers · 3 months

Text

FEBRUARY FLUFF — MANNY X READER X HAPPY LOWMAN.

A/N: Thank you to everyone that took the time out to vote for this thing! I’ve always wanted to write for happy but felt like I wouldn’t be able to do him any justice…this is just me brushing on him being in a relationship so I hope he wasn’t too OOC! Anyways hope you guys enjoy this!

WARNINGS: language, some angst—duh!, slight graphic violence right at the beginning, infidelity, age-gap, and me dipping into some smut?—Don’t get too excited 😆

*FIRST GIF BELONGS TO: @riosnecktattoo + the other doesn’t belong to me either!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: 48. "home doesn't feel like home anymore. you feel like home now."

𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢

with the new year just arriving you’ve been standing on business and keeping busy. You always believed in starting off big and ending with a bang but you didn’t actually want to start off February covered in: blood splatter on your face and brain matter falling onto your tall Chanel boots.

There goes that Christmas gift…

it was late and you were just finishing up at the new construction zone, touring the completed model home and agreeing to take it on as a property to sale. You were a real estate agent, one of the very best—if you did say so yourself—in the growing area of Charming and stood on that. Sure it’s name and it’s pretty views was part of what made Charming, charming but every city has its thorns.

Which led to a knife being pressed underneath your chin by a meth head who thought it would be fun to squat here. You weren’t sure how long he’s been hiding out in the home but it didn’t take him very long to attack after business was completed. Listen, you hardly went anywhere without your guard up but your bag was left in the kitchen, phone lost somewhere on the floor after the ambush, and your heart was going haywire while you held your breath, calculating how to handle this.

Before you could tune back into the addicts demands, you ripped your body away, cut on your chin as the knife slipped downwards just before the man fell forward. Your ears only heard ringing, taking up the once quiet of the night in the hills, and you slowly turned your attention to the person who quickly got you out of this messy situation.

Lowering their gun with gloved hands, there stood Manuel, “Manny,” Moreno. Once his long lash framed eyes fully sat on you, he’s shoving it back into his waistband and calls over his shoulder at the two men beside him, who spring into action to clean up their crime scene. He’s moving towards you now but you’re using the sleeve of the mesh new shirt you liked! to wipe away the blood from your face.

“Nu—

He starts to rest his hands on your upper arms but you shove him off, “I’m fine.”

There’s concern on his handsome features as he rasps, “Are you though?”

“It’s not my first time being around a dead body and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” You snap, “just wish it wasn’t fucking with my business but here we are.”

Manny dips his head at you, briefly glancing at his men who are shoving the body into a black bag, “yeah…sorry about that.”

You scoff at this and walk off to the half bath.

Manny hesitates to follow you but says to his men, “take him to the van and make sure y’all get everything spotless in here before we roll out.”

He stalks off in search of you, finding the half bathroom that has the door left open just a crack. Manny raps his knuckle against the door and he can hear you sigh over the water before you shut it off. He takes that as you being decent and pushes the door back with the tip of his shoe. You’ve rinsed and scrubbed your face but he knows when you get home, you’ll just go over that pretty skin even more.

“What’re you even doing here?” You ask, voice steady but there’s a slight shake in your shoulders before you stretch them back and straighten up your posture.

Manny lifts his own as if it’s obvious, “same as you, business.”

“No shit, smart ass! I’m talking about in this area…didn’t you take your spaceship back to AZ where you belong?” You bite but Manny finds that second half amusing.

Manny leans against the doorway, watching your reflection in the mirror, “nah…things changed and put me into a new perspective…so we decided a move to Stockton permanently was the best option.”

That was about fifteen minutes away from Charming.

You felt your eye twitch at this new information as it was your turn to fire off, “How long have you been here?”

Manny seemed to instantly grasp what you were getting at but knew there was no sense in lying as he exhaled through his pierced nose before holding your stare, “Only a couple of weeks.”

Pressing a tongue into your cheek you huff, “a phone call would have been nice.”

Manny lightly sucked his teeth, “Would you have picked up?”

“Probably not but a voicemail or even a damn text would do…unless you also were not expecting to see me here?” You questioned, although part of you had a feeling what that answer would be.

Manny is quiet for a moment and you scoff again. Whipping around with your backside pressing into the sink, arms spread out along the counter you burn your eyes into the man you shared history with. Once upon a time you used to look at him with such light in your eyes but the universe can show you just how wicked people can be. You’ve been on your healing journey and perhaps it can’t all be resolved by your expiration date but it was worth trying…yet the most high knows just how troubling it was for you.

it was difficult when the man you used to be in love with was back to his old tricks like: showing up when you were trying your best to forget his existence. You truly didn’t think you could even if you prayed hard enough while considering so many factors.

“The sons are a conflict and I’m just glad i got here in time.” Was all he said as confirmation.

You’re rolling your eyes, “oh my knight and shining armor! You think I wouldn’t be able to handle myself?”

Manny shakes his head, “Never that, I know exactly what you’re capable of but you hesistated and a thank you would be cool in my book.”

“And you not being a piece of shit would be even better,” you point into his forehead, leaving Manny to lean away from your jabbing nail until you’re shoving your way by, wanting nothing more than to get home and away from him.

Your stomach was churning just being in the same space as him again and you were trying to keep your anger calm but it was increasingly difficult the longer you spoke with Manny.

Moving around the living room, you’re down on your knees searching for the fallen phone and find it just underneath the couch. Bringing it back to your attention, you’re reminded of what last texts you were sending to your agency, (now ready to tell them another story but ultimately knew you probably couldn’t) before being shoved over the couch and then yanked back into the hands of the deceased.

“Look…you can say whatever you want about me but I don’t appreciate your abuelo being around my kid.” Manny tells you and you feel your blood pulsating as you whip your head around.

“What?!” You hiss, head pushed forward in hopes to help you make sense of where this conversation was going.

Manny chews on his bottom lip, “I said—

“I heard what you said,” you got to your feet, “but what makes you think I wanna hear it?”

“You don’t have to want to but I’m gonna tell you anyway.” Manny clasps his hands in front of him, already on defense.

Throwing your head back in laughter you say, “let me tell you something, Manuel. You don’t get to step in whenever it’s convenient for you, which is barely, thinking shit is going to be sweet just because you’re in your feelings about an actual man stepping in taking your place. That same place you didn’t even want, mind you.”

Manny quirked up a brow, “that bag of bones ain’t doin’ shit but getting his gravesite ready. You think that’s cool having that old head raise my kid?”

“What kid?” You quiz, “oh you mean the most adorable three year old girl that you first tried to deny because of something we both did? That same kid you thought was a mistake? The one you tried to hide from your wife? yet she’s the one who had the balls to reach out and want Aya to have a relationship with her big sister, Marbella?”

Manny tightens his jaw as the men are trying their best not to send him any looks as they’re using solution to clean up the hardwood floors. He’s rubbing at his jaw in irritation that his private business was being aired out like this but he’s the one who knew this conversation was going to be had at some point.

Manny’s wife, Lígia was the one to encourage this move. To push Manny to be the man he says he is and shown that he is. She always believed in him when he knew he didn’t deserve it. His wife had unmatched strength with all the deceit he brought into their home and he was just thankful she didn’t take Bella or her love away from him. He knew how shitty it sounded considering that he actually had a friendship with you some time ago—way before he even took those vows. The old him wasn’t as trustworthy and he wanted to try to be now, at least he was according to his brothers but he had his share of dirt. Nobody’s ever perfect inside or outside the club. He’s been married for eight years, had a six year old named Marbella with Lígia and a three year old named Aya out of infidelity with you.

It was always a tough pill for Manny to swallow even until this day. He felt like maybe he took advantage of your heart, promising at the beginning that it would all just be for fun with two friends messing around but you fell fast and even harder when he found Lígia. That was supposed to be you but it never happened. it was something you commonly did, the whole handing your heart over on a silver platter in hopes that your partner would do just the same. Manny ignorantly thought it had to do with the age difference. Now here the both of you stood with you at your early thirties and him approaching forty but this wasn’t the first time he’s ever mentioned this to you.

Manny knew how deeply you cared about him but he still went forth with his marriage and he still wanted you there. As down bad for Manny as you once were, you didn’t want to burst into flames watching Manny seal his love with someone that wasn’t you. Sure you weren’t proud to talk about how foolish you were but it wasn’t a secret like Manny tried to make it out to be. He really wasn’t as smart as he thought, honestly. It wasn’t all about pointing fingers, you had to find your worth, knowing that if Manny really cared about you he wouldn’t have strung you along with false promises. Eventually you knew when to step away for good but of course a pregnancy dragged you right on back until manny showed just how much he didn’t care enough to be there as much as he could for Aya.

Yes it was hard being in two different states now and you for damn sure wouldn’t be uprooting back to Arizona. To make it easier for Manny. He was going to have to put in the effort but instead he’s been here for weeks and his focus is on who Aya is being nurtured by?

He nudges his head, “let’s talk in the kitchen.”

You don’t argue because your bag is in there and you’re itching to get out. Briefly glancing through your bag to make sure your contents were still in there, you lift your head and exhale.

“I know it’s been rough,” Manny rasps as he leans over the large counter, “and I’ve got a lot of things in this world to be apologetic for but I’m here now and I would appreciate it if you would allow me to be there for Aya.”

You hold his stare, “I’d never deprive you of having a relationship with her because of how you treated me. It’s the way you went about everything else and now want to switch up because your wife gave you the okay? is what doesn’t sit right with me.”

Manny sighs aware that this is partly true, yes Lígia gave him the push but he had to learn how to face his truth on his own, “I know I fucked up and I’m sorry—i—just didnt want to be a failure of a husband and father to them but in return I treated y’all like you two didn’t matter. Which is the farthest thing from true. I’ll always be sorry for that time lost…which is why I’m here now.”

‘For how long?’ You thought to yourself.

It wasn’t time to be selfish because Aya deserved to get to know Manny regardless of how young she is at this time. You would have done anything to have more time with your dad if you could and honestly you wanted Aya to determine her own stance with Manny in due time.

For however long that’ll be.

Taking a deep inhale you shrug, “okay…when do you want to see her?”

“As soon as possible,” Manny perks up, “I actually can head your way now—

You grab your jacket, hooking it over your arm before grabbing your bag, “Aya’s not home. She’s spending the night with my mom and Rudy.”

Manny nods as he’s muttering, “right…I guess you and Mr. ‘I’ve fallen and can’t get up,’ probably have big plans tonight.”

Now why did he have to go and say that? Did he see you worrying about his wife or attacking her?

“Excuse me?”

Manny blinks not in the slightest bit worried about your tone, “you know tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day right? You used to love it.”

That holiday came around much faster than you remembered and you showed no emotion at Manny recalling one of your favorite holidays.

“I didn’t forget.” Was all that you said but it was clear Manny didn’t believe that, laughing to himself.

Manny sniffs as he talks once more, “right so…I’ll have the day off tomorrow, so maybe I’ll slide through and grab Aya from your moms and step dad’s and we can have some bonding time—just us three I swear.”

See how he just assumed that you would bring Lígia up? Of course you didn’t think you would one hundred percent be comfortable with that although she did reach out to you but you can never underestimate anyone. The both of you shared words before over the phone prior to the talk about Aya (mostly about you reaching out too much to a married man, although you tried to brush it off with just being besties but Lígia put the boundaries up for Manny since he wouldn’t) but it was never on sight. Lígia made sure of that which in your mind, you labeled that as her being scary of having a convo face to face but she just wanted you out of Manny’s life as it would create more problems for them.

She took it up more with Manny you heard…but she still should have been worried about you fucking her man even after they said, ‘I do.’

“Good luck with that,” you snort already aware how your mother felt about him, “she wont let Aya out of her sight.”

Manny shrugs, “I’ll figure it out.”

You saw something different in his eyes this year. There was a swirl of dedication in them the longer you stared and you didn’t want to get your hopes up. However you would give your mother a heads up since Manny probably already knew where she resided with your step-father. Manny was good at playing at not caring ever since he got into the club and chose to get married but you knew he couldn’t be that heartless. Sure he sent birthday cards here and there once he came to terms with Aya being his and even responded when you thought about child support.

The thing was he just didn’t show up whenever he was near by doing club business. It was the bare minimum and he chose not to. Manny claimed that moving here had partly to do with doing right by Aya and that’s all you could ask for. It still left a nasty taste in your mouth that Lígia got him to step up but that was your own personal problem not Aya’s.

“Alright then,” you start to make your exit until he says…

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Nubia.” His voice is gentle and you expect the tenderness in his tone to make you feel something but surprisingly it doesn’t as he continues, “take care of that cut and don’t forget to pick up something nice for abuelo on your way home.”

You halted but kept your gaze straight, “don’t worry, he’ll give me more than you ever could.”

Which left Manny nodding at your words, rubbing the tension from his jaw as he watched you walk away from him but certainly not for good in his eyes.

Making a stop was not on your to do list tonight but you stopped at your best friend’s lab to shower, take care of the scratch on your chin that would heal in a few days, get tested thanks to being exposed to blood—sadly while being asked a bunch of questions from the worry wart of a best friend that you had but you simply gave her a synopsis before making your way back home after a few texts to your mom and your man.

The drive was a bit longer since you had to go in the opposite direction to get a decent shower but it was what you needed. Eventually you made it through the suburbs and pulled your car right into the open garage beside the familiar bike. Reaching for the sun visor and pressing on the remote, you’re closing the garage door behind you and take a few more seconds to yourself before climbing out.

Each step you took towards the door you hoped the tension erased. The first door was left unlocked while you carried up the stairs, tiredly before unlocking the top door yourself. You don’t even peek to the right where your bedroom is, dumping your items right into the living chair before being greeted by Ope knocking into your legs for attention.

“Hey,” you greet the pit as you scratch behind his ears with a small smile, “you have a good day today? I’m sure you did since you don’t have any bills to pay.”

He barks at you, wagging his tail before running to head up the stairs. Letting out a yawn you raise your arms above your head, cracking the space in between your shoulder blades and blow out a breath as you drag your eyes from the window and to your left.

There Happy stands in what most would find a creepy demeanor. He’s watching you, almost analyzing but you greet him first before he can suspect anything, “hey.”

“Hey,” he blinks almost as if he has to remind himself, “what’s with the change of clothes?”

You frown, peering down although you’re aware what you left the house in but was unsure how Happy knew what you were wearing since his day started earlier than yours today.

“You left the damn shoe box out in the middle of the floor,” he responses in his usual gruff voice, “almost broke my fucken neck.”

Stepping to the bald man with the dark eyes, you wrap your arms around his waist burying your head into his chest to listen to the beat beneath it. “Sorry about that hun, I was rushing this morning.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Happy rests one hand on the middle of your back, squeezing you firmly to his frame.

The both of you hold onto each other for just a little awhile. This was all that you needed, to be in the arms of the man you could trust to be upfront with you and loving despite what the streets labeled him as. It’s not that it didn’t matter but at least you felt sure about this relationship—which didn’t sit right to some but you were grown enough to know what you wanted.

“I need to show you something.” Happy says now rubbing your back in circles, almost as if sensing you had a long day.

You squeeze him with your eyes shut, “is it a sweet chili wing dinner?”

“Better,” happy comments with a smirk as you peer up at him.

Turning your eyes into slits you don’t say much as Happy removes his hand from your back to slip his arm across your shoulders. Leading the way to your bedroom, you’re hit with the satisfying scent of brown sugar and fig, a thick patchwork towel spread out along the bed, and propped up pillows right along the center of the headboard.

“What’s this?”

“Strip,” happy demands from beside you while you frown.

“For…”

Happy rolls his eyes, “stop askin’ questions woman and get naked.”

Giving him a look you turn towards him, fist pressed into your hip while Happy can’t help but to let a smile slip past his lips, faint dimples appearing right with it.

“…am I getting naked by myself or…?”

“if you’re lucky,” happy grips the side of your neck and squeezes, “but first I’m taking care of you with a full body massage.”

A smile breaks out onto your lips now, “aw, happy—

“Don’t get all fucken mushy on me,” happy jeers as you go to scratch the white scruff on his face, “now strip and get your ass over there.”

“You could say please,” you tease kicking off your trainers first followed by Happy doing the honors of yanking up your crewneck.

Laughing to yourself at Happy’s impatience, you guess he’s been waiting a good amount of time for you get home so he could do this. He nods to the bed where you plop down and he lets own a low whistle along with a motion of his finger, “on your belly baby, you know the drill.”

“Oh?” You wink, while Happy grins at you.

Twisting your body, you crawl closer to the pillows, prepared to rest on your stomach but not without catching sight of some oil and flower petals resting in a wooden bowl. Call yourself impressed as you reach into the nightstand to grab your bonnet to slip over your hair.

“I need to be prepared too, hap.” You announce while the said man snickers to himself.

Resting your cheek against the soft pillows you close your eyes, feeling the bed dip and your man hovering over you. His lips are by your ear as he says, “I’ll always take care of you.”

And you believe him.

Happy’s touch is always rough but careful when it comes to you. You keep your eyes closed, body sinking into the comfort of the blanket and the roominess of your shared bed. His fingertips slip between your bra and skin, lifting the garment upwards before messing with the clasp. Being free from that trap makes you feel better already but there’s goosebumps as Happy trails a fingertip down your spine, against the dark art in Arabic that decorates your skin just right.

His hands are on the waistband of your leggings now and he doesn’t say much, he never does, making sure his movements are precise and swift; slipping a hand underneath you, lifting your hips with one arm while he uses the other to remove your leggings for you. The house is always toasty, just warm enough for the both of you during this comfortable but breezy winter but the goosebumps always arise once your skin is bare and underneath the gaze of the man you had no problem calling yours.

You’re left in your underwear and bonnet just the way Happy likes it—occasionally in your Mumu’s (don’t knock it until you try it ladies!) too but for tonight’s purposes? This would be his first choice to keep locked in his memory. He’s reaching over you again, rough fingertips grasping the bowl to tip it right over your skin. You don’t predict it to be warm and it almost makes you flinch but it’s soon smoothened out once happy’s touch is applied.

He starts at your shoulders first, where there seems to be the most tension. Just the right amount of pressure had you squirming but he knows you can take it, knowing just when to ease off, trailing his touch down your arms and interlocking his fingers with yours that are buried beneath the pillows. Then he’s back at it, tackling the knots and backing away towards your spine and going right back to make sure he’s doing his job.

Happy’s always loved your legs, especially when they’re slamming back against his, but this time he has to make sure they’re ready for what’s to come. You’re always on your feet showcasing homes or hunched over a desk so he knows your shoulders and legs would be the most problematic but it’s not like he’s worried.

“Hold on for me, lady.” He warns you just as he jams his thumbs over your upper thighs, making you groan and lift your foot up in protest.

He smacks it back down against the bed, noting that he would get to that later. However he knows your body pretty well so he attempts to keep your mind off the soreness that releases, “…want to tell me about your day?”

Happy’s not the biggest talker but based on research and with his own experience with his mother, he knows directing the conversation elsewhere helps people get through it. Which is a huge contrast when it comes to his job of getting some answers if you get what I’m saying…

“Only if you tell me about yours,” you huff twisting your body to the right in pain but Happy has no problem sitting right on your ass.

Happy snorts, “know i can’t tell you all those details, lady.”

You laugh a bit, “not sure id want to hear the graphics anyways,” relaxing a bit as he switches to his right and your left, which seems to be less painful, “Manny’s back and wants to attempt a relationship with Aya but I don’t want to be the bitch that keeps her away when he’s the one who pushed us away at the start. Yet he has all these standards and preachings with the damn club but couldn’t acknowledge his kid because he screwed around on his wife with me multiple times. I’m scared and don’t want Aya to grow up getting her heart stomped on by a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Happy is listening but he doesn’t respond right away. He couldn’t care less about manny the shitty Mayan to be honest and Happy honestly never saw himself being a father—if that’s what you and Aya considered him as! he was more of a pet dad, and even fell in love with your pet snake, Bingo first before having the chance to meet the curious light hearted toddler with the wide doll-like eyes and pretty long eyelashes who had wind chimes for a laughter box. Granted Happy’s only been around for almost a year but as much as he cared about you, caring about Aya was just a bonus.

This manny punk missed out and you were better than happy. If happy had a woman that didn’t step up for their kid, she’d probably be six feet under—in pieces. However he was the killer out of the couple whereas you said your peace and expected that to be done while still hurting over situations. If situations kept being pressed? That’s when things had the potential to go left on your terms.

“We’ll make sure it won’t,” happy says running his hands down to your ankles now and you’re almost sinking into the bed at his words.

“You genuinely mean that, hap?” Your voice wavering and that makes happy do a sharp turn to glance at you.

He’s moving now, gripping your shoulder and flipping you over to meet your gaze which slowly opens, body aware that you need to have eye contact as he speaks with you. Happy’s hovering over you, palms down by the side of your head as his dark eyes pierce into yours, “have I ever shown you any different? I’m nowhere near that motherfucker and I don’t plan on leaving you…either of you…at least not on purpose.”

There’s that honesty you couldn’t hate.

Your mother and step-father didn’t know exactly what Happy was into but they knew it was anything but good. Of course they opposed the entire thing and also didn’t want him around Aya, which you took precaution of since you were unaware if this would last but it has so far. There was only one way this relationship would end and that’s something the both of you vowed. Something the both of you swore to take seriously. There was also an age-gap just like you and manny but the difference was: love was actually in the room.

“What if you just up and decide you wanna go back to Tacoma, cutting all ties with us? People change their minds all the time you know?” You hated being vulnerable like this but having your heart on your sleeve shouldn’t be a crime.

Happy shrugged, “then I’ll take you guys with me. home doesn't feel like home anymore. you feel like home now."

Your eyes flick back up and a watery smile is present as Happy brushes his lips against yours. Before he reaches up to yank the bonnet over your eyes, “even this raggedy bonnet feels like home.”

He’s grinning while you laugh a bit then lift it up and peek up at him, “not too much now—but I love you anyways.”

Happy dips his head in agreement.

Which makes you reach up to caress his head as if it were your own personal crystal ball and Happy knows just what you’re thinking, wiggling his head from your grasp. “Since you want to be grabby…why don’t you let me massage something else?”

He pats just below with a delivish smirk, “ain’t love day tomorrow?”

“Is it now?” You curl your hand behind your head, “Was this your whole plan?”

Happy shrugs, “I’d get you under me one way or another regardless.”

“Look at you being so damn sure of yourself!”

“Yeah I am. No toddler in the house, a nice massage, me tending to our pussy, and a second meal afterwards? Sounds good to me.” Happy ticks off with his fingers.

You snort, “well when you put it that way? Oh how romantic!”

“I did good though?” Happy questions, a flick of doubt appearing over his face before it’s gone.

You reassure running your thumb over his cheek, “Yeah you did, you’re great with your hands.”

“And I still want to use ‘em.”

“Only if you get my Valentine’s Day gift for you?”

Happy frowns, “That bouncy heart headband?”

“How did you?” You started but shake your head knowing not to question it, “that wasn’t for you that was for Aya.”

“Then where is mine?”

“See, that’s what happens when you go snooping.” You laugh.

Happy slaps your thigh, “well?”

“It’s nothing big but it’s under Aya’s bed because I knew you wouldn’t look there.”

Happy sharply exhaled through his nose and backs away with you. “Don’t move,” he warns stomping out of the room and up the few steps to Aya’s room.

Snuggling back into the bed, you await for Happy’s return with the glitter red box. It’s already open as he tosses tissue paper onto the floor, and holds up one rubber item.

“Pound town ticket,” happy is smirking at you and tosses it right on your body watching as it lands on your torso, “don’t mind if I do and I get two? We’ll use the second one tomorrow.”

You laugh as you pick up the item and give it a kiss before placing it on the night stand. Sitting up on your elbows and you smile as Happy keeps digging through the box to find the personalized boxers.

“Oh shit, look at these!” Happy holds them up, showing the black underwear with hearts printed all over front and back with the middle having your face and a drawn body hugging around where his junk would be.

Asking the man, “You like the cheesy little gift?”

“Hell yeah, it’s stupid but I’m gonna wear these—

“Now?” You pry.

Happy sucks his teeth, “no not now! I’m trying to get out these jeans and into my home.”

Laying back, you lift your feet and spread your legs, peering at Happy, “come on in then.”

The darkening of Happy’s eyes means you don’t have to tell him twice as he chucks the box to the side, licking his lips as his eyes remain locked on you. You enjoy the view as well as Happy hooks his hands through the belt hoops of his jeans, his v-cut being prominent that you have to bite down on your bottom lip, watching him get out of them just as fast as he’s charging over to the bed.

Squealing you welcome him into your arms after he yanks on your ankles, toppling right on top of your body. You always love when he puts if not all but most of his weight on you, burying you into the sheets while he nips at your shoulder and places an open mouthed kiss against your neck. He loves the way you smell naturally or even fresh from a shower. Always like the fresh start of spring, like a harsh rain, cucumbers, and floral—like your favorite flowers that you’re allergic to, lilies.

You always smell soft despite the resting bitch face you have. And he always cares for you just right. That same feeling is evident when he spends time on your breasts, caressing the roundness of your face while sucking and biting. He even runs his tongue over the fresh scratch on your chin and that almost makes you pry your eyes open but your focus is always directed elsewhere once Happy has his hands on you. You’re at his mercy before he’s even inside you but Happy times everything right.

Knows when to tease and get you ready for him. Majority of the time its difficult to have these times together with a young child in the house, Ope trying to cock block, or both of your jobs getting in the way but when you do, it’s best to savor these moments.

With your legs in the air like the letter V to match his hips, body shuddering with Happy holding you right against him at the edge of the bed, he isn’t quick to move like normally. He wants you to feel every inch and he wants to feel just how you were made for him.

Only him.

𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢

February fluff anthology prompts continues here.

#Spotify #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #happy lowman #happy Lowman x black reader #happy lowman x reader #Mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #manny mayans mc #manny mayans #manny mayans mc x reader #manny mayans x reader #manny mayans mc x black reader #david labrava #manny montana #February prompts #February fluff #queued

135 notes · View notes

sinsandsweetness · 8 months

Text

drunk tank- part 2

cw- vulgar language, drug and alcohol use, slight angst and pining for the reader, references to sexual acts. about 2.6k words that aren’t proofread:/ sorry loves.

notes- i started writing and i don’t know what happened. hopefully you guys don’t hate it? way more plot than i intended but… much smutty goodness to come, i promise (no pun intended)

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! i live for your feedback and love hearing your opinions <3

Fuck.

You don’t even want to look around the house. You already know it’s gonna be a fucking mess. You can hear it. Feel it. Hell, you can smell it. Booze and weed and sex. Sweaty bodies packed into a 3 bedroom trailer on the wrong side of town. Coke on the bathroom counter that’ll have you wishing you’d never let Merle move in in the first place.

You stop at the end of the driveway, wondering whether you should even go in. Or if you should get back in the taxi and tell him to take you away and never come back. Go work at some diner in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. Leave everyone else behind.

But Daryl’s face flashes through your mind. You can’t do that to him. Not after all he’s been through.

Growing up with the Dixons was a bit of a challenge. Merle being well… Merle. You and Daryl always ending up in some kind of dangerous and even disturbing situation. Creeps who smelled of Jack Daniel’s, with wandering hands and no sense of personal space. Having to put on a smile for Merle who desperately needed to finish the deal before you could even think about sneaking off to the truck. You were leverage. Sometimes even Daryl. Though you knew he hated it. Fried hair, rotting teeth, meth head bitches who thought he was trash enough to stoop that low. He wasn’t. Or at least he didn’t want to be.

You should go inside and find him. Get him to drive you to Shane’s to spend the night. It’s not like you’ll get any sleep tonight with this ruckus going on. Not after the shift you just had. And you’ve learned to really love Shane’s middle class, suburban townhouse with a California king and a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. It was… different. Unfamiliar. A perfect little escape from the chaos of your typical day to day life. Of your piece of shit trailer that’s already falling apart and definitely wouldn’t pass a health inspection no matter what kind of construction worker you were to hook up with.

Besides, Shane was a good fuck. Not that that’s all that matters in a relationship. It’s not. Merle was a good fuck too. You’re not that hard to please. But Shane is sexy. Charismatic. He treats you like a Princess. And honestly… as much as Daryl makes fun of you for it… you’re starting to really like him. He pays for meals. Takes you out. Isn’t afraid to show you off or introduce you to his friends. And, the biggest part; he’s safe. Steady. A fucking cop for Christ sake. So much different than the guys you’ve been with before. You weren’t at risk of any stray needles or guns when you stayed at his place. The only gun he kept at home stayed locked up in his office and is used strictly for emergencies.

And his sheets are clean and his fridge is full and his best friend is a hunk who happens to be going through some minor marital issues that you can’t say you’re not excited about. For once in your life, things are starting to look up.

Well… not from where you’re standing. Dreading the pounding bass and music that you can already hear pouring out of the windows. Praying that Merle had the decency to lock your bedroom door, but it was unlikely. You pulled a blanket over his passed out body on the couch before you left for work, so the likelihood of him remembering what you gently whispered in his ear was extremely slim.

Be safe. Lock my door. Don’t do anything stupid.

He clearly hadn’t heard you. Or if he did, he didn’t listen. Because the sounds and smells coming from the house as you walk barefoot on the gravel with your heels in your hand are proving to be the latter.

The door is open. Coats and purses thrown about. Stares from the girl and the guy flirting away in the front entrance. Red solo cups in their hands presumably filled with whatever the cheapest keg that your ex could find at the value liquor across the diner. At least that’s what you have to assume. Cheap beer. Sticky and sweaty and- holy shit.

It’s Daryl. On the couch, with a girl.

It’s no surprise that he’s over. It’s not like he has any other place to stay.

It’s the girl on his lap that has you stopping in your tracks. Bright blonde hair and fishnets straddling his thigh. Blowing smoke onto his, thankfully, annoyed and unimpressed expression. She’s almost naked. That’s why you’re so shocked. It’s not like Daryl has ever had an issue getting with girls. But the fact that her skirt looks like a belt and there aren’t even any panties under her tights… well It’s just… a bit of an eye sore if you were honest.

He catches your gaze. The sight of you rolling your eyes at the pathetic little show in front of you. Turning down the hallway and knowing he’s probably already shoving her off and jogging to catch up right behind you. Down the hall and to your room where you’re unsurprisingly forced to kick a couple of sleeping stoners out of your bed. At least they still have their clothes on. Most of them anyway.

“Who was that?” You ask, not turning around but hearing the door latch and lock behind you. Daryl’s smokey, leather scent coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

He knows better.

“No one,” he mumbles into your neck, his breath smelling of the rum and coke he chugged and threw to the side before chasing you down the hall.

You can’t help the way you shake him off. He’s drunk for Christ’s sake. Not like he didn’t have a warm and willing body out there on the sofa. Probably desperate to get any of her slutty holes filled and fucked by your childhood best friend.

You slump down onto the bed. Unmade and definitely not from you. The thought makes you wince.

You run a hand over your face and think about the clean smell of pine sol and laundry detergent that now reminds you of the handsome, dark haired officer you’ve recently gotten to know.

Daryl sits down beside you. A nervous tic in his hands as he picks at his cuticle. Unsure of what to say or what to do. It’s not like he should feel bad. He was right, she is no one to him. He won’t even remember her name in the morning. But he still feels a twang of guilt. Wishing you hadn’t seen her string covered cunt grinding on his thigh in the middle of the living room.

“Where are the keys to the Chevy?” You ask, ending the awkward silence brewing between the two of you.

“No way.”

“I’m sober, Dare. There’s no way I can sleep here. Plus I work a double in the morning. Just hand em over.” You turn to face him. He sees the bags under your eyes and knows he should just hand them over. Let you get some beauty rest in officer Walshes big and beautiful bed. Where he’ll be sure to fuck you right tonight and make you a delicious breakfast in the morning before sending you off with a kiss and tap on your perky little ass. But that’s also exactly the reason why he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants to be the one sharing your bed tonight. He wants to make you some scrambled eggs in the morning and drop you off at the diner. Him. Not some asshole cop that fucked you right in front of him at the station a month ago. Hard and fast and really fucking good. By the sounds you were making and the twisted look of pleasure written on your face, it was good. And even Daryl could see that.

“Stay here. Please.” Daryl's hand makes Its way to your thigh.

“Daryl-”

“Don’t. Don’t fuckin- don’t leave.” He’s pleading with you. Can’t stand the thought of you moaning and writhing underneath his burly competition.

“Please.” His voice cracks but you pretend not to hear.

You shake your head. You need a shot. And an Advil.

“I’ll just call Shane.” You reach for your bag, ready to wake the poor guy up to come grab you from the trailer you refuse to let him enter, let alone see. Guess you gotta deal with it tonight.

“Fine- hey-“ he reached for your bag. Stopping you from grabbing the phone you’re rummaging for. “I’ll drive you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I had one drink. Seriously. Look at me.” You do it. Maintaining the heavy eye contact that’s burning into your irises. He’s telling the truth. You can see it. The way he’s holding your leg and the expression on his face. He’s always been a terrible liar.

“Okay. Thank you.” Your voice is quiet, hushed and you know you sound like a bitch. But you’re just really fucking tired.

He pulls you by the hand the whole way out to the door. Dodging the blondie from the couch and pushing your ex out of the way when he sees you, wide eyed and calling your name. Pupils blown and clearly coked out. Part of the reason he’s your ex. Among a plethora of other reasons you’d rather not get in to.

Merle’s truck sounds like shit. Stuttering a few times before it roars to life. A weird clicking from the glove box that you’re just too tired to check out. Smokes and a used condom thrown about the passenger side floor. Unsurprising but still disgusting.

You grab your phone and send Shane a text. Making sure it’s actually ok that you do crash for the night. Not that he’d ever say no. But you want to be polite.

Mind if I swing by? A bit crowded at mine.

It only takes him a few stoplights to answer.

Of course, Princess. You need a ride?

You answer immediately. Thumbs tapping fast on the tiny little buttons of your blackberry.

Nope:) 5 mins away.

Perfect. See you soon gorgeous

You can’t help the smile creeping up on your expression. Curling on your glossy lips and catching the attention of your best friend in the drivers seat.

“Pfft-” he rolls his eyes, turning the corner a little sharper than you’d like.

“Oh, shut it.” You snap back. Daryl has never liked any of your boyfriends. You don’t blame him. Most of them were real pieces of shit. Using you for your body. Your money. Not that you had much to spare.

Merle and you never dated. Just a couple drunk hookups that you didn’t enjoy.

Daryl never liked that either. Knowing his brother had seen the most sacred parts of you. Touched you and held you and watched your eyes screw shut as you came all over his cock.

Daryl wishes he could be the only one who’s ever seen that. The only one who knows the sounds you make when you’re close and the way you’re breath hitches when he kisses that spot on your stomach. It fucking kills him. Thinking about you gripping Shane’s dark hair while he discovers that same exact same spot. Going lower and lower until you’re squirming and writhing and-

“Dare?” You repeat. Grabbing the attention of the scowling young man who’s gripping the steering wheel like it’s about to fly away from him.

“Huh?”

“You missed the turn.”

“Shit, sorry.”

He circles around and shifts into park. Right across the street. The tree in Shane’s yard blocking the light from the front porch.

“Thanks,” you say dryly while reaching for the door handle. Ready to crawl into a warm bed. One where the only sound that enters your ears is the crickets in the backyard and the soft inevitable snoring from the handsome deputy holding you nice and close.

“Wait, just-” Daryl’s hand grabs your shoulder and pulls you pack. Snaking His hand around the back of your neck and crashing his lips against yours. Leaned right over the middle console to pull you in even closer. Tongue tracing your lips and deepening the kiss. The faint taste of tobacco and the familiar warmth of his mouth clouds your judgment. Kissing him back despite your relatively steady and semi-serious fling waiting for you on the other side of the red door across the street.

You pull away, eyes still closed and resting your forehead against his.

“Dare…”

“It’s fine.” He whispers. Nose nudging your own as he connects your lips for one last kiss that lingers just a couple seconds too long. A pained, broken look in his ocean eyes passes through when you finally pull away and scowl.

“Don’t. You can’t- you don’t get to do that.”

His jaw clenches and you’re sure he wants to spit some petty ass insult at you. Years of daddy issues and unresolved anger issues catching up to him with every little argument that crosses his path. But he finds it in himself to bite it back. Well not entirely. Just… a little less vulgar.

“Wear a condom,” he sneers, pulling away and falling back against the headrest. A deep sigh leaving his lungs as he chews on the inside of his lip. Already regretting his comment both due to the sheer cruelty of it but also because of the subtle admission of jealousy that he would fucking kill to have flown right above your head. It doesn’t. But the crimson painting his cheeks tells you he really fucking wishes it would. So for his sake, you ignore it and mutter a goodbye as you hop out and shut the car door. Heels clacking on the cement while you make your way to the front porch. Duffel bag in hand and a flutter of butterflies starting to swarm around in your belly.

You don’t even have to knock before the door opens and you’re met with the scent of a musky cologne and those beautiful brown eyes looking you up and down. Plaid pajama pants and a clean black tee shirt pulling you in for a quick embrace as he eyes the old Chevy still idling across the street, Daryl inside, ensuring you actually made it into the house.

“Hey, beautiful,” Shane kisses your cheek. Eyes still fixed on the man gazing over from the tinted truck window.

With a strong, guiding palm on the small of your back, you brush past the officer and head on in. Giving him a moment to set the alarm and lock the door behind you. Oblivious of the way Shane decides to wave at Daryl. Sending him a silent thank you for dropping you off all safe and sound. And maybe a very slight reminder of what he’s about to do to you as soon as that door closes.

And though he doesn’t see it, whether it’s from the tint of the truck or the clouds blocking the moon in the middle of the night, Daryl waves back. A pained, stomach dropping, shaky little wave that he didn’t even really want to return.

Daryl drives home as it starts to rain. Windshield wipers scraping on the cracked glass in front of him as his mind wanders, thinking about how nice it would be to stay in one of the nice, picket fence, suburban homes you’ve always wanted. Thinking about you in a big backyard, sipping on some white wine with a chunky little toddler on your hip. Your husband flipping some burgers and talking to the neighbors about football or the weather or the preschool you’ve been scouting.

It hurts his heart that in his little daydream, it’s not him who’s standing there barbecuing on that deck. It’s not him making small talk with your coworkers or reaching for the babbling little kid in your arms, asking for his daddy.

It’s Shane.

And for a split second, even though it physically hurts his heart. He knows that Shane can give that to you. And that, that simple little revelation is the whole reason he knows why he needed to wave back.

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck @olive3oil @taylormarieee @virtualreader @lust4lovee @fanngirl19 @movidita @flomrpus @summergirl37 @dylanisstilladumbass @dixonslvr @aangelbabysworld

taglist form is in my pinned post- let me know if I’m missing you<3

#drunk tank #Daryl Dixon x reader #Shane Walsh x reader #shane walsh x y/n #Daryl Dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #Shane Walsh x you

260 notes · View notes

rreskk · 2 months

Text

ASLEEP

Summary: Trevor has a habit of acting upon his urges. You woke the moment before he could, and you made him deal with the mess himself.

TW: Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 1489

Trevor dragged his legs across the wooden porch and opened the door with his prominent hips, eyes immediately searching for you in this needy, horrifically restless state. His heartbeats were rapid and he was experiencing a haze of sobriety for the first time in a while. It was taking a toll on him, explaining the random bursts of deprivation where the meth would “cure” it.

He grumbled when you were absent from the main room until he peeked his head through the bedroom doorway, seeing you sprawled out on his bed, asleep. He promised to be back hours early so he couldn’t blame you for sleeping, yet he was crossed. His brows furrowed and he dragged his heavy legs towards the bed. You were sleeping so effortlessly. It made him think you weren’t excited for his return despite spending time together the morning prior. Spending time, he really meant arguing but he refused to see the fault being him.

“Hey.” He murmured into your ear, gaining no verbal response. Instead, you snuggled further into his mangled sheets and breathed out with ease. Your face, light and peaceful, without his comfort.

Trevor placed a finger and outlined your shoulder, caressing the barely exposed skin but calming down at the physical touch. Unconscious or not, he really needed to be praised with your attention. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

“Hey.” He repeated and properly loomed over you. His frame shadowed and blocked out the light from his lamp, hiding the small details on your face, making the warmness turn cold. And you remained dead.

This was not aiding his pining aches. Trevor fantasised about you rushing to his side with the click of his fingers, like a nurturing maid; a motherless mother, an emotionally-available whore, a bitchcraft witch to cast spells upon the desires he wants. Yet, right now, you were doing nothing.

“C’mon…” He tugged onto your shirt like a little boy, “I’m back. Wake up.”

Still, the trailer was silent and deadly. He was alone with his thoughts again.

Trevor whined softly before greeting his impulses – a habit he does when vulnerable – throwing off the sheets that covered your static body, displaying the lazy clothes that clung sheepishly around your curves and limbs. You were too much of a heavy sleeper to recognise a hand following your backside, giving you a small squeeze, fondling around your hips, worshipping your stomach through the thin T-shirt.

“Sugar, angel,” Trevor addressed while lining his lips against your jaw, “I really want you right now. Wake up for me, I need you.”

He hoped you’d at least hear him through your sleep, just enough convincing to tear you from that slumber, but his impatience was running low and he couldn’t stop himself. Like a pathetic dog, so lost without his owner. So lost that he crawled over your body and gently positioned your knee upwards. If you weren’t going to wake up, he’s just going to use what he can get. Even if that was the most bare minimum pleasure.

His hands toyed around with his waistline and slowly edged it down and around his thighs. Then he hovered over your knee, his bulge safe behind the tight whites, holding back the source of his desires where it itched and ached. Trevor was so hard, grunting when he swiftly pressed his crotch against your knee, moving his hips in circles, grinding towards the bone, getting the real feel before deciding it was too little for his preference. Your knee, though bony, had no warmth or skin to provide a replicate of your sex.

With his mental humor cutting short, his fingers intertwined with yours and waited for a minute to ensure you were not faking the rest. Trevor’s eyes drifted to your goddess of a face, finding himself smiling at how lucky he was to have lured such a beauty. Although you may have fell asleep to avoid the bitterness of the fight, you still looked like a blooming flower, a diamond in the rough. He fell forward and praised your neck with kisses, his crotch unconsciously falling into your knee again, hitting the right spot where he gasped into your skin.

“Oh, fuck.” It slipped out from his tongue, hurting so good.

The bone struct the burning heat and he grinded into it repeatedly, treating you like a free palace to roam.

Trevor whined into your ear as he hump dried your knee intensely. He was so self-indulged that he was apathetic at your awakening. His eyes fell onto your open ones and he could only moan out your name in greeting.

You struggled to process what he was doing until he pulled up the rugged T-shirt where your breasts fell into his palms, perfectly fitting as he groped, played, squished, pinched the size. The rough pressure made you groan softly. Allowing him to captivate your breasts.

“Mmm…” He communicated through small phases of moaning.

“Are you close?” You whispered, treating him like a low-life subhuman.

Trevor was not afraid of eye-content and nodded proudly. His white briefs were heavy with arousal and you could feel the damp pre-cum from the fabric grind into your knee. It left wetness smear across the skin. Hot smear.

“That’s right,” You smirked, “C’mon. You can do better. Can’t you?”

“Mhm…” He winced.

“Let me help.” Thinking you were going to portray the fantasy he’s been dreaming of, harsh reality betrayed the expectation that buried his mind. Trevor threw his head back and cried with pain and pleasure, feeling you kick him with the knee, the brutality behind your actions making him shrivel up on bed beside you, cowering his crotch for protection and comfort.

“Fuck, fuck!” Trevor said through gritted teeth and closed eyes.

“That’s what you get for waking me up.” You scoffed and proceeded to grab the bulge for yourself. It sat in the palm of your head, soaked and used. You gripped and recognised the shape of his boner twitching. It shrivelled into your hand, like a deer in headlights.

His whole body went into shock when you gave him the abuse. Trevor wobbled out your name with his quivered lips, hoping you’d take mercy on him.

“Ohh, poor baby… You just want to cum. You wanna use me without my consent?” You continued to mock.

“M’no. No. No – “

“Do you know what happens to dirty animals like you?”

“Mommy, I’m sorry.” Trevor urged.

“Oh, so now you call me mommy. You think treating your mommy like that is nice?”

“I’m sorry!” He cradled your hand that held his crotch tightly, thumb caressing yours.

“Mommy’s not going to help you, Trev. You gotta make yourself cum, yeah?” You murmured.

His face fell at this proposal and he shook frantically, “No. C’mon, no. That’s not fair.”

“You need me?”

“I really need you. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Where were the calls or messages?” You challenged.

“I – “

“You don’t deserve to be helped. Mommy will watch you instead. I’ll make sure you’re getting exactly what you deserve.”

“Ohhh…” It seems as though Trevor accepted his fate.

When you released his crotch from your white-knuckled fist, he immediately went to work in front of you, his briefs torn from his hips and exposing that ugly mess of a cock. He was already in the middle of an orgasm when inserting freedom, sloppily jerking himself off in front of your eyes.

His Adams-apple trembled in his throat and he glanced to the ceiling, cum draping them sore hands that were sweating with arousal and emotional stress. At this point, he forgot you existed and focussed on relieving himself.

“Fuck, fuck… God!” Trevor’s waist fell into spasms when another orgasm was quickly approaching.

You were amazed to watch him experience so much at once. You knew of his short activity rate, but now you were seeing it when it comes to masturbation.

“Ah, fuck… I’m gonna fuckin’ cum again – “ He said, looking directly at you, “Watch me, mommy. Watch me.”

“I’m watching baby.” You reassured with a smirk, head resting against the bed railing.

This was the push he needed. Trevor arched his back and came again. However, this time, it was strong. His cock twitched dramatically as he oozed cum, dampening the sheets underneath but also his thighs. His skin being dressed by this warm and white sensation.

“Ohhhh!” You heard him moan loudly and through the night.

His body fell back and he exhaled with defeat. You stayed silent while he maintained the usual composure but it never returned.

Trevor only whined for you again, calling you “mommy” and shuffling close to your body as if you were attached like glue. It was weird yet you enjoyed the submissive nature when he grew needy. Always when he was sober.

“Good boy.” You whispered and kissed behind his ear.

The man shuddered but said nothing, only embracing your body.

#trevor philips #grand theft auto 5 #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #trevor gta #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips fanfiction #trevor philips headcanons #trevor philips/you #trevorphilips #grandtheftauto5 #my fanfic #my fanfic writing #my fanfiction

92 notes · View notes

bucknastysbabe · 10 months

Text

I’m lovin’ it - Aegon II

This is straight crack like I mean if you read this more than once you’re entitled to go do meth behind a strip mall and work overnight stocking. This is for Chris you big fat dirty white bitch why’d you take me off the motherfuckin schedule with yo triflin ass- @teamaemond

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Loser Stoner McDonald’s Worker!Aeg, modern universe, meet fuck, play place defiled more than usual, doggystyle, dirty talk, pnv!sex, I did not beta I just word vomited aggressively

A/N: based off the crazy ass anon that asked if Aegon would fuck in a McDonald’s play place and I couldn’t help but lose my shit

So McDonald’s wasn’t really twenty-four hours in your town. Too small. 10 o’clock would roll around and they usually had one or two workers and every machine was ‘broken’ by then. No really. They told you one time their hot was broken. You asked for coffee.

But you needed some coffee and some fries before going into an all-nighter studying at the local community college in the area. Hopefully the ‘hot’ wasn’t broken or the weird foot guy was working the night shift. You liked the stupid blonde, he was cute and flirty. Usually he would give you free stuff. Argan? Argon…something weird like that.

Walking into the desolate McDonald’s you breathed a sigh of relief at the blonde working tonight. No foot talks. He seemed bored and positively stoned out of his gourd, leaning against the counter. The man drawled, “How can I help you?”

You came closer and snatched at his name tag, making him yelp. Aegon. You snickered, “Aegon. What kinda name is that?” He grimaced and spat back, “A family one. I’m trying to go home early- so what’s the order.” He had a cute blush on his pale cheeks, pale orbs staring you down.

“Uh just a medium coffee and same for the fries. That’s all.”

“That’s a stupid order,” he commented while ringing it up.

You gave him a look, mouth gaping. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Aegon smirked, “I don’t know, I’m about to close, I have all this leftover food and you want a coffee and fries. That’ll be three-oh-eight.” You handed him a five and teased, “Why don’t you eat the leftovers? You’re like…high as balls right now.” Aegon’s lips pouted and he sniffed, “I’m not trying to be one of those fat fuck stoners.”

You raised a brow at his slightly softened midsection and stifled a laugh. Violet eyes narrowed at you and he turned around to make your food. Plopping yourself on the counter you asked, “Soooo, you got siblings?”

“Yes.”

“Are they blonde too.”

“…Yes.”

“Oh. I graduated with Aemond.”

“He’s a dick.”

You laughed and agreed wholeheartedly. Aegon handed you the coffee and fries, having grabbed himself some nuggets in the meantime. He grumbled, “I gotta close soon.” You shrugged, “You don’t want company?”

A brow raised, heat coming across his eyes, “What kind of company are we talking about babe?”

Well.

Aegon had his standard black pants down, fucking you bent over the likely germ infested ball pit of the play place. He said there were no cameras in there…which had to be a total liability. No matter the issue he could fuck and had a nice cock.

His warm hands gripped your hips as he panted in staccato breaths, moaning, “Fuuuck, you’re fucking tight!”

You haphazardly flailed across the balls, unable to gain purchase as he fucked pathetic little ‘ah ah ah’s’ out of you. Reaching back to grab a boney wrist you whined, “C-can we- fuckshit- pleaAse find another spot! I-I d-oooon’t want a needle in ME! Goddamn!”

Aegon laughed, stupidly composed in his situation as he eased you down to the padded floor, hand now on the small of your back to push towards a better angle. You cried out as his cock drug along your sweet spot, pulling and stretching all the right walls. The blonde swatted a hand across your bouncing ass, huffing, “God- you’re gonna make me blow too fast, sh-shit.”

One of his gorgeous hand snuck down between your thighs to get at your swollen clit, sometimes sliding around where his cock stretched your cunt out. You mewled at the obscene feeling, wailing his name. The walls of your pussy were fluttering now, ecstasy taking a hold of body and mind. Chewing on your bottom lip, you thrust back to meet Aegon’s hips in wet slaps, hoarsely moaning.

“Oh Christ,” he whimpered under his breath, tone still low and raspy. Your legs were shaking, Aegon having to pull you up to keep from sliding flush to the ground. He leaned over your sweaty back, cooing in your ear with a playful nip, “Feels that good huh? You’re a needy little thing.”

“‘M gonna cum,” you squeaked with frantic eyes.

He began to nip and lap at your neck, disgustingly hot.

His fingers pinched and tugged at your clit, sending you over the edge with a careening wail, seizing up and milking his thick cock with rhythmic squeezes. Aegon stuttered on a breath, gasping for air as he quickly pulled out and painted your ass with hot cum. The idiot fell back onto his ass, you laying flat on the floor now.

You panted, pussy throbbing in the best way. Aegon moaned in content, “Needed that.” Finally pushing yourself off the floor you retied your ponytail and scoffed, “Yeah I’m not getting any studying done tonight.”

Aegon laughed, an endearing giggle, full lips stretched into a smile. He cocked his head and offered, “We can make this a full time…deal if you wanna help me close up? I’ll make it worth your while.” Then he gave you a cringeworthy wink. You found yourself grinning uncontrollably at the loser, accepting his proposition.

Besides, what’s wrong with a good fuck in the McDonald’s play place from a hot blonde?

#crack fic #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #hotd smut

265 notes · View notes

lttleghost · 1 year

Text

The Thematic Relevance of Jesse Pinkman as an Egg 🏳️‍⚧️

(I wrote this analysis awhile back and wanted to make a fresh post to update it!)

While not intentional, there is a lot in Breaking Bad that supports reading Jesse as an egg. This reading of Jesse has a lot of thematic and narrative relevance and also doesn't create any conflicts with the canon material. Jesse being someone who hasn’t realized he’s not actually a man yet could quite literally be canon.

This analysis is heavily based around parallels between Jesse’s character development and what Breaking Bad thematically associates with gender. It’s also heavily interconnected with the show's overarching theme of change, and also, at least for our two main characters of Walt and Jesse, the revealing of true self. There’s plenty of evidence that each of them already had the traits we see them with at the end of Breaking Bad. Jesse being this very kind and compassionate young adult and Walt being this egotistical monster.

But I would consider Walt's self-deception to be more shallow than Jesse’s self deception. While Walt did end up in a lifestyle that was opposed to who he truly was, he consciously knew what he wanted to some extent, whereas Jesse fully convinced himself that he was a different person than the one he truly is because he never really got the chance to actually figure out much about himself.

There are a lot of examples of Jesse’s disconnected sense of self throughout the show, but the first one that comes to mind has to do with his superhero OCs-

EDIT: YO! if you find video essays more engaging than reading a bunch of text, this analysis now also comes in video form [link]

I think that Jane’s observation that all of them looked like Jesse was, in fact, correct. I wouldn’t consider him doing this as a conscious decision but I feel that he almost admits it. After initially denying that his OCs looked like him and after Jane affectionately teases him he ends up saying to her “like you never wanted a superpower.” And while you could interpret this as just a response to her teasing, I’m convinced that there’s an additional layer to it. Especially because when Jane leaves to check the door, there's a moment where Jesse looks at the sketchbook with his drawings and it seems like he’s considering something, and I’d bet you anything that what he’s thinking about is whether or not he had actually drawn himself and this is REALLY interesting since-

Jesse is a criminal right? And while superheroes themselves are technically criminals as well, as vigilante justice isn’t actually legal, they’re still typically known to be ‘crime fighters’, and Jesse describes his characters as being such. So with his OCs subconsciously being depictions of himself and them being superheroes (crime fighters) and his current life as a criminal, you get the image of someone who doesn’t know who he is or what he wants deep down.

There’s no way that Jesse’s current delinquent lifestyle was his truly… preferred path. It’s much more likely it was the only thing he thought he could do successfully. It’s evidently been the one thing he’s made a decent living off of. He has no support from his parents, and doesn’t seem like he has had it since he was a highschooler. Jesse is shown to have no support outside of the drug trade. Most of his personal skills and interests are artistic or honestly domestic in a world that assigns more value to academics and he’s a highschool graduate who doesn’t have any job experience.

I also believe Jesse is very aggressively ADHD coded, and the combination of having virtually no support, struggling with addiction, and having undiagnosed and improperly self medicated ADHD would make slogging through any “respectable” job that he has access to, or any job that his parents might encourage him to do, unbearable.

So the drug trade was his best bet, Jesse even views cooking meth as a form of art, something that he’s passionate about.

I can’t in good faith ignore that doing something that is... generally frowned upon, didn’t factor into what Jesse chose to do on some level, as society and the structures that it’s built on failed him and there’s an inherent sense of rebellion that often forms in a person when they’re failed like that. Granted, superheroes also tend to often contain some commentary on societies failings as well. Jesse just couldn’t actually be a real-life superhero. So with the few benefits it had in practice compared to any other job, Jesse played into the rest of the role of a criminal, and convinced himself that the aspects of it that conflicted with his personality... didn’t, probably without even noticing.

Even more to this disconnect; When Jane asks “and that’s a superpower?” in response to Jesse explaining Backwardo’s powers Jesse responds with “come on, I was a kid when I drew these, it was like four years ago.” And Jesse is 24 years old in that scene, meaning that he would’ve been 20 when he drew these characters, and when I first wrote this analysis I was wondering whether or not Jesse had gotten involved with the drug trade other than buying drugs by that time, but there wasn’t really anything I could confirm any theories with.

But now I've got the Better Call Saul episode “Waterworks” where Jesse has his second cameo, where he is in fact, 20, and in that cameo Jesse accompanying Emilio, a person we know is his partner in cooking meth, to Saul’s office makes me certain he’s in it by that point. And I just have to wonder if Jesse’s superheroes were almost a… subconscious vent, a manifestation of how being a criminal in the specific way Jesse is, is not what he wants. Something that suggests that Jesse’s actual identity and his current view of his identity don’t line up.

Another thing to point out about the cameo that could be seen as additional evidence of Jesse’s discomfort with being more than just a customer of the drug trade is that he was hanging out outside of Saul’s office, and until Kim gave him one he didn't have a cigarette, so he wasn’t out there to smoke. And while there could be other explanations to why he was outside on his own, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say, other than just his general skepticism of Saul, he was just not particularly jazzed to be where he was at that moment and not comfortable going inside.

So relating all of this to gender; that narrative of convincing yourself that you are the person that you’re supposed to be for your best chance of survival instead of being able to truly be yourself already works pretty strongly as an allegory for being trans. But to add onto that even more, thematically Breaking Bad associates “manhood” with the drug trade in one way or another, and paralleling how Jesse realizes he doesn’t fit into the drug trade like he thought he did with how he might not be a cis man like he thought he was makes for a really solid queer reading.

The whole show is pretty explicitly about toxic masculinity. Obviously in real life masculinity and manhood do not have to be toxic, and in Breaking Bad’s original intended story Jesse is a cis man who ends up not fitting into those toxic ideas of manhood.

Things that the rest of the male cast don’t blink at or at least have more mild reactions to, just tear Jesse apart. He’s also targeted at least a couple of times for having emotional vulnerability that is considered to be “not manly”. It’s much easier to point out the differences between him and the male cast than it is to point out similarities between them and this just gets more pronounced the longer the show goes on. He doesn’t really have any positive ties to being a man and I don’t think we can say we ever see Jesse actually reclaim his own sense of manhood. And I think that lack of reclamation gives even more legitimacy to the reading that, along with leaving the drug trade and all of its toxic masculinity bullshit behind, maybe Jesse just leaves behind being a man altogether, and maybe it was something that wasn’t really ever a true part of him, just like his life as a criminal.

Even at the start of the series Jesse’s attempts at hyper-masculinity come off as really goofy and performative. In episode one Krazy-8 mentions that Emilio thinks that Jesse might’ve ratted on him Jesse first has a much more genuine response of “that’s bullshit” which makes sense with his strong character trait of being loyal, but then he goes to say “I should kick his punk ass for even thinking that.” and it just sounds like fake bravado to me. There’s no way Jesse actually thinks he stands a chance against Emilio since Jesse has a body type that resembles a small bird and there's no way he has that little self awareness. He's just playing out a script that wasnt even well thought through, and while some of his other performances of masculinity don’t come across as that fake, there aren’t many that feel like they actually come from Jesse himself, they just feel like something that he just thinks he should do.

And while not every experience with men Jesse has is negative, there always seems to be some distance between him and the men he does have good relationships with. Jesse forms a parent-child type relationship with Mike that is healthier than any other he’s had up to that point other than probably his aunt, but there’s a part of Jesse that Mike never seems to fully get. When Jesse doesn’t want Lydia to be killed Mike says that 'this woman deserves to die as much as any man' and I think he misses that Jesse just still isn’t that keen on killing people even with everything he’s gotten involved with. Even if there are some acts of violence and even some people’s deaths he is fine with and thinks are justified, Jesse never fully adapts to “the job” the way Mike does, and Mike is just not quite able to understand that, or at least not why.

Jesse and his friends have a distance between them as well. Though they’re arguably not as entrenched in toxic masculinity as any of the other prominent men in the show are, and aren’t nearly as involved in the violence of dealing drugs despite being in the trade. Yet still Jesse’s interactions with them most of the time feel different and more withdrawn than their interactions with each other. Like Jesse really wants their presence and company and wants to fit in but there ends up being something that he can’t connect with alongside them, and this also gets more prominent as the show progresses. There’s parts where Jesse seems to be withholding how badly his “high rank” in the drug trade is affecting him when Pete and Badger seem to sort of idolize him for it and want in on it. I think Jesse sort of considers saying something to them about it, but he hesitates and doesn’t. He repeatedly doesn’t confide in them even though, while his friends do perform some facets of hyper-masculinity, they don’t really seem to target or reject vulnerability in the way most of the other men in Breaking Bad do. And Jesse’s distance from even the more harmless side of the male cast makes it feel like it’s not just the toxic masculinity that he’s disconnected from.

Jesse’s relationships with women even further separate him from the men of the show. His romantic relationships with Jane and Andrea read much more as relationships between equals, compared to Walt and Skyler or Hank and Marie. While Jesse does throw the “nice job wearing the pants in the family” insult at Walt in episode two of the first season, after Skyler almost caught him moving Emilio’s body, in Jesse’s own relationships he never actually tries to take control and doesn’t have any problem with Jane honestly being the person making more active choices for the both of them in their relationship, which Walt comments on by throwing that same “nice job wearing the pants” insult back at Jesse.

Another interesting thing found within Jesse’s relationship with Jane that ties them to specific gender roles happens after Jane doesn’t really introduce him to her father. Jesse asks about it and after a bit this Jane ends up saying “What am I supposed to say? Hey dad, meet the stoner guy who lives next door and by the way I’m sleeping with him?” and Jesse replies “Is that all you think you’re doing?”

It’s been pretty common for “the guy” to be considered as the one who sees a relationship as just being sex and “the girl” to see it as being romantic, and this is a very very dumb aspect of traditional western gender roles that this scene even has to subvert, but I think in the context of Breaking Bad’s dealings with gender roles the fact that Jesse is put in the role much more typically associated with women could be viewed as significant. And this significance can be extended to the show’s most prominent dynamic, dealing with the relationship between abusive men and women, Jesse is a victim. I’m not implying men can’t be victims of other men's abuse, but it does make Jesse easier to associate with women in the story, and while the narrative association comes from a negative place, the negativity is directed towards men. But the connection it forms between Jesse and women is a sense of camaraderie and even comfort, at least on Jesse’s side.

and with those connections with women I’d say the most accurate egg interpretation of Jesse is that she’s specifically transfeminine in some way.

I think in this analysis its important to specifically examine Jesse's journey with gender questioning as I think it follows the rest of the ups and downs in her learning more about herself in the resr of her character arc. My personal interpretation of Jesse is that she is a non medically transitioning nonbinary transfem person. The not medically transitioning bit is largely because I enjoy bringing attention to the existence of no-med no-op trans people and to push the point that not seeking medical transition doesnt make a person any less trans, though I do feel that since Jesse's relationship with gender is focused on the societal side of gender roles that don't really relate to physical form that it's a reasonable interpretation that she may not medically transition. I think she uses he/him and she/her pronouns, and is maybe a futch lesbian. I’m saying all of this because it'll be the lens through which I’ll be talking about Jesse’s journey with questioning his gender and how that progresses during the timeline of Breaking Bad. However I don’t claim this to be the only version of transfem Jesse that works with my analysis, or that it's necessarily better than any others that do work. I’ll also be mentioning concepts of “offscreen” additional scenes. That being said, if you’re someone who likes to stick 100% to the text given to us, the “offscreen” scenes aren’t exactly necessary for this interpretation to work as a part of the existing story as the general emotions behind them still stand.

I don’t picture Jesse as having any definable Gender (™) experiences when he was younger other than just a general sense of not belonging, though gender wouldn’t be the only thing playing into that. But as Jesse got older and struggled more, he started to purposefully play the part of what he saw as “a man” to survive in the only role that he thought he could. I see the thought “I wish I didn’t have to be a man” crossing his mind every so often though. I think he just deals with his place in the world for awhile, but after Walt enters the scene and Jesse experiences shit he really didn’t bargain for because of his old teacher, someone who is settling into a personification of toxic masculinity, Jesse’s frustration with being a man becomes more prominent and harder to ignore internally.

In my opinion Jane is the person that helped him start to solidify what exactly those thoughts were indicating. Her approach to relationships would be considered not traditionally cishet, and so is the way she presents herself in general, so I think Jane has some sort of knowledge about the complexities of gender, if she isn't actually queer herself in some way.

And she’s one of the only people we see Jesse truly, truly open up to and so I think at some point later in their relationship Jesse might actually say something about wishing she wasn’t a man around Jane, and I can see Jane saying that Jesse doesn't have to be a man if she doesn't want to be.

But then Jane dies, and I think as a result of that and the lesson Jesse learned from rehab “I’m the bad guy” he goes into just total repression mode. Embodying this new belief Jesse very much dips into the hyper-masculine behavior of the drug trade, he is much more concerned with money beyond paying bills and having nice things, and he plans to do the one thing in the entire show that makes me truly angry at him because of this whole thing, attempting to sell drugs to the rehab group. I don’t think he would’ve ever thought of doing something like that before. He’s trying very hard to be something that’s even further from his actual nature than we’ve seen up until this point.

Part of Jesse’s grief over losing Jane, a person who he confided in probably more than anyone else at that point, was to just completely close up, even to himself. Forget all of those parts of himself that resisted the rougher aspects of the drug trade he was getting dragged into and definitely forget about wondering if he really is a man or not.

At least until meeting Andrea and Brock, which snaps him out of that “I’m the bad guy” mindset, but by that time I think just, too much starts to happen for Jesse to have much time to question her gender. I wouldn’t consider her to be as actively repressing any sort of “I wish I wasn’t a man” thoughts but the amount of turmoil and danger that she’s in, just really really doesn’t lend itself to that sort of gender introspection as much.

I’ve got some additional thoughts on Jesse’s journey with gender that are more headcanons than actual analysis of the show so I didn’t include them in the text above. But I still really wanted to share because I like them and think that they really add to the analysis, so here they are;

I mentioned that I don’t think that Jesse had any particularly notable moments that might’ve suggested that she was trans when she was younger other than feeling out of place, but maybe he did have some interest in playing with “girls stuff” and her parents discouraged it because as we know they’re the shitty type of people who value their child being “normal” at the price of that child’s happiness, but I can also see her being one of those kids who just didn’t even grasp the differences between boys and girls stuff for a longer time than others, or I can even see Jesse’s last connection to the "male" side of gender being from when she was a little boy, before he was aware of the concept of what being a man was, and that it would be expected of her.

But later, in his adulthood, after the idea and pressures of "manhood" became very present in his life, one of the more certain instances of gender questioning I picture Jesse having is at some point while hanging out with Badger, Pete and Combo, Jesse screws around and puts on a dress. And he's like “haha I look like such a queer don’t I?” but is internally thinking something more along the lines of “ I will die before I tell anyone how this makes me feel” (that being that it makes him feel happy).

And then, as we enter into the timeline of the show itself; when Jane first tells Jesse that he doesn’t have to be a man if he doesn’t want to, I don’t actually think that Jesse would be receptive of it at first. I think it’s more likely that he’d decide he suddenly doesn’t want to have this discussion anymore and change the subject. Jesse would still have the misconception that you need to medically transition or at least be required to fit some sort of ‘criteria’ to be trans, instead of just identifying as a different gender than your assigned sex, and I think that would play some role in his not wanting to talk about possibly being trans. And even more because, while he could opt out of telling anyone that he’s trans, Jesse’s in a world in general that isn’t trans-friendly, but the drug trade he’s in specifically is very lgbtq-phobic. Jesse himself is definitely gonna have some internalized transphobia, we’ve seen his homophobia, and I definitely read that as a result of his environment rather than actual hatred considering at Jesse’s true core he’s a pretty caring person. But there are definitely people in the drug trade who would be violently homophobic and transphobic, and Jesse would know that, and would probably perceive even realizing that he is trans to be a threat to his safety. But, later on, further into her relationship with Jane I think she’d open up, even if only to Jane.

And that’s what I like to focus on the most with this analysis, all of the happiness and freedom and healing that Jesse gets to feel detaching himself from manhood, something that honestly contributed so much to every part of his suffering. And god does this girl deserve some happiness.

Then when for the most part too much is going on for Jesse to consider whether or not he’s trans, I still sometimes think of a situation where Jesse might’ve suggested? Her gender questioning to Mike, and while I don’t think Mike’s personal reaction would be technically negative, I think he’d tell Jesse to ‘please not share that with anyone else kid’. Which would be discouraging to Jesse, and she’d quickly backtrack, some because of the reaction on its own but also because he really already knows that it’d be stupid to say anything to anyone else, but it’s not until Jesse’s really free from the drug trade that she can finally crack that egg. I really like to think about the comfort and relief Jesse would get to feel no longer having to try and be a man, cause she finally realizes that she isn’t one.

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #jesse breaking bad #trans jesse pinkman #queer analysis #breaking bad analysis #brba #jesse brba #this is my girlfriend don't touch him #meat.txt #this is a shortened and edited bit of my video essay script #i just like.... HAD to update my inital text analysis while im working on figuring out how to successfully record my video #cause the old one is so jumbled and stufff #or it feels jumbled to me now at least

933 notes · View notes

seat-safety-switch · 1 year

Text

When I heard that California was experiencing a huge dump of weather, I didn’t delay. I didn’t sit around, tut-tutting about those poor dears. No. I took action. I got a flight right to Los Angeles, walked past the huddled, terrified masses, and walked right to the rental counter. And I got something with full insurance.

You see, I grew up driving in the snow. Because I’m too poor or maybe too stupid to move away, I still do now. It sucks, and it holds up traffic, and you have to shovel a lot. You get used to it, though, especially after a winter of bullshit white stuff falling from the sky all the time and covering your perfectly good crapcan cars. You also get very good at driving in it, unless you’re everybody else on my commute.

We all think we live in a world of rules and mores, but when something like this happens, everything changes. The people who can wield power – the people who can seize power – become as gods. Knowing that I need to slow down a little bit before trying to turn the steering wheel on the highway would make me unstoppable, a singular silver beam of pure id through the crippled cityscape. Capable of anything.

The cops were powerless to stop me. What were they gonna do, chase me in their patrol cars? They’d never seen snow, either. Their pilot had never flown a helicopter in the snow before. I tested this theory immediately by finding the nearest Krispy Kreme and repeatedly ripping handbrake turns in the parking lot until the cops came running out, then fell and ate shit in the snow. And then, not for the last time in my life, I outran the cops in a 2021 Kia Optima.

I laughed maniacally as I merged onto the highway and barked out a couple front-drive fishtails. The traction control light blinked, screaming at me that what I was doing was Highly Unorthodox and may actually be Injurious To My Person. I punched the traction-control defeat button and laughed harder as the low-speed skids continued. On the side of the highway, I saw a garbage truck crashed, split in two, spilling its contents across a rich man’s lawn.

Then I was hit by a ‘01 Alero driven by some asshole doing ninety miles an hour in a Walmart parking lot on bald tires while smoking crystal meth out of some kind of homemade contraption involving two semi-truck turbochargers. I watched in awe as he continued through the parking lot, over a small hill, through a fence, and directly onto the highway upside down. I felt small. In that moment, only he was truly free.

526 notes · View notes

1-800-callmewhenyougetlost · 1 month

Note

I need like subby Tom 2006 like reader catches him flirting with another girl and she gets so jealous and pissed they go home and Yk!!🤫

(oh? But i swear i seen this request for another reader)

Mama!

Y/n's pov:

Me ane Tom were invited to a frat party so we decided to go because why not? So when we entered we were greeted by the smell of weed, meth, and heroin. But we ignored it. After awhile of walking i realized i've been separated from Tom i tried looking for him left to right but i couldn't find him. Until i went outside he was flirting with another chick!

I walked right behind him and talked "oh hey Tom" i exclaimed. I turned over the blond slutty bitch and said "im Toms girlfriend me and Tom should be going now!" I pulled him to the back part of the van "Tom!" I hit his head softly. "What!" He said. I rolled my eyes i sat there for a minute then i saw a bulge in Toms pants i smirked when an idea popped out of my brain.

I sat behind him and put my arms around his dick and massaged it. I heard him whimper "mama.." i raised my eyebrow. I kept massaging until i wet something wet i turned to him he had his eyes rolled back..

Time skip------

"M-m..mama!" He whimpered as out skin clapped yes we were fucking in a car who wouldn't! I kept riding him aggressively. "Im c-c..coming!" He screamed. "No don't" i said. I kept riding him. I stopped riding i look at his dick his tip was pretty pink i was admiring it for so long. I jerked my hand up and down on his dick and he whined a lot but when i went faster oh boy he was struggling.

"Mama..i-i..im going to cum!" He screeched. "Cum my love" i said. He rolled his eyes and arched cum squirted out in the air it landed on his stomach. "Are you okay baby..?"i asked him. "Yea im okay.." he said. I kissed him softly and we both get changed back to our previous outfits and continued on the night..

#tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz x reader #gustav schäfer #bill kaulitz

58 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 4 months

Text

A full character analysis on AGENT WHISKEY from the film KINGSMAN: THE GOLDEN CIRCLE

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

FULL CHARACTER STUDY:

Basic Details:

Full Name: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels

Nickname(s): None, real name Jack Daniels

Appears in: Kingsman: The Golden Circle, 2017 (first appearance seen at approx. 47:41)

Age (if known): 42 - (Although this was the age Pedro was himself when he filmed his scenes, and Whiskey's DOB is listed the same as Pedro's, 2nd April 1975, so his age may be incorrect. This was found via Whiskey's character Wiki page, see the bottom of this post for the link.)

Nationality: American, from Kentucky

Sexuality: Straight

Family: Former sweetheart/wife and unborn baby boy

Spouse/Partner: None, however he did have a "sweetheart" who died when she was out getting groceries and was caught in the crossfire of a robbery. It is claimed she was his wife, but he never refers to her as his wife or girlfriend in the film, only as his "sweetheart"

Relationship Status: Single/possibly a widower if he was married

Current Living Status: Deceased - Death by meat grinder

Languages Spoken: English

Education: Not confirmed, however as Whiskey is a secret agent, he would have had substantial training with Statesman. Assumed would have had school/college education as minimum before joining/recruited

Occupation:

Job Role/Title: Senior Statesman Secret Agent/Spy

Special Skill(s): Master marksman with guns, skilled with a lasso/whip, combat training, espionage and spy experience, can pilot aircraft

Notable Colleague(s): Eggsy, Galahad, Champ, Tequila, Ginger

Distinguishing Features:

Tattoo(s): None

Piercings: None

Scar(s): Mark/scar on left temple by left eye from being shot at point blank range by Agent Galahad

Other Markings: Freckles on neck

Eye Colour: Brown

Prominent Feature(s): Moustache

Injuries: Whiskey is shot in the head at point blank range, left side temple, by Agent Galahad, but is saved and revived by an alpha gel nanite pack. He's left with a mark/scar on his lower temple, right by his left eye. He is later killed by being pushed into a meat grinder, head first

Hair Colour: Brown

Whiskey's mark/scar from being shot at by Galahad:

Personality:

Traits: cunning, adept, clever

Whiskey appears to be from Kentucky, based on his American accent and where Statesman is based in the film.

Whiskey is against any mercy being shown to helping cure the people poisoned by Poppy's drugs, due to his own story of loss and grief due to drugs. His sweetheart/wife was killed whilst out grocery shopping by two meth addicts, who held up the store. She was also pregnant with his baby boy at the time.

Whiskey is a master marksman; he is adept and can shoot at moving targets with precision, barely missing. He can do tricks with his guns such as spinning them around his fingers.

Whiskey's whip/lasso can be turned electric and can cut through almost anything, including metal.

It is apparent throughout the movie that Whiskey harbors some sort of dislike for Ginger Ale. He has voted against her several times to become a field agent. This has never been explained or really explored in the film. Fan theories suggest it's because he is trying to protect her from being in the field due to what happened to his sweetheart/wife. Other theories suggest he is resentful that she couldn't help save his sweetheart/wife with the tech they have at Statesman; he later tells her that she didn't fix Galahad properly, hence why Galahad shot at him: "well I’m guessin’ you didn’t fix him right!" The real reason for Whiskey's distaste of her however, has been left open to interpretation. Later, after Whiskey's death, Ginger is promoted to an agent, and is, ironically, assigned Whiskey's code name.

Whiskey sees himself as a charmer with the ladies, telling Eggsy to "watch and learn, kid" when he attempts to smooth talk the target at the festival. He ultimately fails.

When we first meet Whiskey on screen, he is based in the New York office of Statesman, and is referred to as a senior agent by Champ, indicating Whiskey has been with Statesman for a long time and has plenty of experience and leadership skills, and is one of their best agents.

Fashion/Outfits:

Outfit 1 - (Opening scene in New York office) Black suit, white shirt, textured tie, Stetson, Statesman aviator spectacles

Outfit 2 - (Picking up Eggsy & festival scene) Black leather jacket with brown under collar, white round neck t-shirt, dark blue jeans, black wellington boots, Stetson, aviator sunglasses, brown studded Whiskey flask belt, watch/tracker on left wrist

Outfit 3 - (The bar scene) Blue wool blazer, dark denim jeans, brown boots, white shirt, blue polka dot tie, Stetson, brown studded Whiskey flask belt

Outfit 4 - (Statesman HQ scene) Brown wool blazer, white shirt, black/blue and white striped tie, Stetson

Outfit 5 - (Mountain scene) Blue snow suit, blue gilet, white turtle neck vest, black leather gloves, Stetson, aviators, black snow boots

Outfit 6 - (Piloting jet) American Flag helmet with name 'Whiskey' printed on it, denim jacket with brown lapels, grey denim look shirt, aviators

Outfit 7 - (Final showdown scene) Denim jacket with brown lapels, dark denim jeans, grey denim-look flannel shirt, brown boots, Stetson, brown studded belt with Whiskey flask, brown leather knife sheath and gun holsters on belt

Accessories: Aviator sunglasses, brown Stetson, watch/tracker on left wrist, silver engraved mini Whiskey hipflask belt buckle, which is detachable and he drinks from it

Weapons Used:

Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)

Whiskey has two Colt single action army 5.5 artillery model .45 long colt pistols that were custom designed and made for the film, and silver barreled. They are sheathed in a dual gun holster leather strap, embossed with the Statesman logo.

Whiskey has a whip/lasso that he can make electric, which has the power to cut through thick metal

Whiskey also has a knife with a thick brown handle, that he uses in the final showdown fight with Eggsy & Galahad

Modes of Transport:

Vehicle(s):

Whiskey drives a 1970 Ford Bronco with white top and trim and black base

Whiskey pilots the 'Silver Pony,' which is an F 22-A Raptor Fighter Jet

Dialogue:

🗨 See Whiskey's full dialogue from the film, including deleted scenes.

Further Character Links (if any):

Behind The Scenes Interview with Pedro Pascal, Kingman: The Golden Circle Behind The Scenes, Final Fight Over Briefcase VFX With Whiskey

Whiskey's Villain Wiki Page

Samples of Whiskey's Wardrobe - Brown Stetson, white shirt, blue wool blazer & tie info obtained via Styleofpascal IG

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

#agent whiskey #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #agent whiskey kingsman #kingsman the golden circle #agent whiskey jack daniels #pedro pascal cinematic universe #PPCU #pedro pascal character study #pedro pascal character database

90 notes · View notes