#my cuban boys

[italic-doing-random-shit]

draw... you!

you and your fam need a family picture :3

eeeeh that’s a bigger project for later, but that don’t mean I didn’t draw something!

here tunny, me, Bold! Mostly wanted to draw my little bro since he’s one of my favorite humans ever

a full family picture however

we’ll get to that soon

[tumble-tv]

I always wish I had a quinceañera, but at the same time I know I wouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I should've and I'd feel extremely dysphoric the entire time. Still, I wish I had that connection to ny cuban roots and a day to feel like royalty

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

✨SAM'S CHAINS✨

(Sam's Earrings)

[end0r4]

Happy 80th Birthday Ian Mcshane! 💕

(29/09/1942)

[mibkid]

Listen through and through i like vld , Yes i know shocker!(it isn't, though i have only posted ONCE about it on here w art..but anyways)

So if there was anything about voltron it was that the show had some bomb ass edits made and put on youtube.

That fandom thrived on those. i swear.

I also swear there was this whole "everything black" edit that i watched over and over.... i can't find it now BUT THERE WAS and the transitions were good too.

[house-of-slayterr]

Guys I’m sobbing, she’s just like me for real 🥺 I’ve always loved her, but I didn’t know she was my ethnicity this whole time! I’m happy stimming so hard it hurts right now. My heart 🫀 she’s so good!

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

still so off putting to me that hermes is cannonically blond. look at his parents that boy is NOT blond cmon.

[fizzytoo]

it’s crazy to me adrien got his momma’s face and nothing else

[estesmonrad]

How Of Looking After For Your Custom Jewelry

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[adriennebarnes]

Can You Be My Boyfriend?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N is Ferrari’s social media manager and when one of the mechanics doesn’t take no for an answer, she pretends she’s dating a certain Ferrari driver.

Warning: grammatical and spelling errors cuz I don’t proofread

A/N: i just wanted to say thank you so much for the love y’all gave “Prince of Ferrari”, it means a lot to me as a new Charles Leclerc writer. I hope y’all like this one too, just like Olivia Rodrigo, I am so American,

Y/N walked into Fred’s office.

“Mr. Vasseur, I had an idea for a new C2 challenge.” Y/N said.

“What did you have in mind, Y/N?” Fred asked.

“I was thinking we make dishes from each place we go to. Like Cuban food from Miami, Texas barbecue ribs, paella from Spain, and we have Charles and Carlos match the dishes to their flag. I personally think it would be fun, you know? Or we could do a video where the drivers tell us from which Grand Prix the photo was taken.” Y/N suggested.

“Those are very good ideas, Y/N, see if the boys are up to it, will you? Figure out when the best time is to film that.” Fred said.

“Yes, will do.” Y/N said and left his office. She walked to the living room (does the hospitality have a living room? I don’t know) to see Carlos and Charles chatting to away.

“There she is! Como has estado, hermosa?” Carlos asked Y/N, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.

“Ha estado súper bien, un poquito cansada, pero nada que no se puede arreglar con un café.” Y/N said, her and Carlos laughed.

“I understand half of that.” Charles said.

“Now you know how I feel when you speak French.” Y/N said. “Anyway, as your social media manager, I had an idea for an upcoming challenge, we have to make the most of this season.” Y/N said.

“We hear you, mon ange, what’s the idea?” Charles asked.

“Can you guys guess what Grand Prix this is based off the picture?” Y/N asked, showing them a picture on her phone.

“That’s when I won in Monza.” Charles answered.

“Good, this is your challenge, guessing Grand Prixs based off a photo.” Y/N said putting her phone away. “It’s not much, but it’s different from what you guys have done in the past. You could also match dishes to their countries.” Y/N said.

“Sounds like a fun challenge.” Carlos said.

“Good to hear. I’m gonna be with the photographer, he’s taking photos of the new livery and I need to approve them before I post them on Instagram. See ya later, okay?” Y/N said, stepping into the garage where she sees the photographer looking over the photos on his camera.

“Y/N! You’re here, tell me what you think, and be brutally honest. Do you think they came out to blurry?” The photographer, Daniel, asked. Y/N started looking them over.

“They look great, honestly, it matches Ferrari’s instagram feed, you did a good job. Can you upload them to the computer?” Y/N asked and Daniel said that he could. He left Y/N alone on the garage and that’s when one of the mechanics, Ruggero, approached her.

“Sei bellissima, a more mío.” Ruggero told her. Y/N rolled her eyes,

“Grazie, Rugge, what do you want?” Y/N asked.

“You are very hostile towards me, you know? I might be able to forgive you if you go out with me.” Ruggero said.

“Not gonna happen, Rugge, aren’t you tired of getting rejected?” Y/N asked.

“I bounce back. Come on, amore, why won’t you let me take you out? You think you’re too good for me?” Ruggero asked.

“What are you talking about? Oh my god, I don’t think I’m too good for you, where the hell did you get that from?” Y/N asked, so confused at the turn this conversation took.

“Well that’s the only thing I could think of, you come from the states, you clearly think you’re better than Europeans.” Ruggero said and Y/N had enough of this nonsense.

“I have a boyfriend! Que pesado eres, me cae.” Y/N said.

“Really, who’s the boyfriend?” Ruggero asked. Y/N saw Charles walking into the garage.

“Muñeco, there you are!” Y/N said loudly, walking up to Charles and kissed him. Charles widened his eyes in shock but kissed her back and they both pulled away, Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest and Charles rubbed her back.

“Congratulations, does Fred know?” Ruggero asked.

“It’s private right now, we’re just seeing how this goes.” Y/N replied and as soon as Ruggero left, Y/N pulled away from Charles. “I am so sorry! Ruggero wouldn’t leave me alone so I had to tell him I had a boyfriend and honestly whoever walked through that door was going to be the victim of my lie but I am glad it’s you and not Carlos, mainly because Ruggero knows Rebecca is dating him.” Y/N explained quickly but Charles was still distracted, thinking about the kiss Y/N gave him.

“I’m sorry, what?” Charles asked.

“Can you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t think we could pull this off, Y/N. We work together.” Charles said.

“We would only have to pretend we’re dating around Ruggero, no one else has to know, I promise.” Y/N said.

“Okay fine.” Charles said, him and Y/N were walking back to the main area (I don’t know how this works) and Carlos was standing next to Fred and Ruggero with a smile.

“Congratulations, cabrón,” Carlos told charles, hugging him. “You two are adorable.” Charles turned to look at Y/N with a look that said ‘no one will know, yeah right’

“I didn’t know you two were dating.” Fred commented.

“It’s still new.” Charles replied, putting his arm around Y/N.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the social media posts, it should be fine.” Fred said before walking away. Ruggero smiled before going back to the garage.

“Now I know why you always called her ‘mon ange’, que coqueto saliste, eh charles.” Carlos said, leaving Y/N and Charles alone, Y/N pulled away to face Charles.

“Well so much for that plan, I really am sorry, Charles.” Y/N said.

“You know what? It’s alright, it’s okay, pretending around here should be easy enough, this can’t get worse, right?” Charles asked.

“I Don’t think it can. How about I buy you lunch for getting you into this situation? I swear I did not mean for this to happen.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, sure let’s get lunch, where do you want to go?” Charles asked.

“Well since this lunch is my treat, you choose where we should go.” Y/N said. Charles and Y/N walked to the parking lot together and Y/N was walking towards her car when Charles grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards his car. “Seriously?”

“Well what kind of boyfriend would I be if we went to lunch in different cars?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, makes sense, Ruggero is watching through the window too, let’s go.” Y/N said. Charles opened the passenger door and Y/N got in, he close the door behind her, ever there gentleman, and he got into the driver seat. He turned on the car, and gave Y/N his phone so she can choose the music.

They arrived at the restaurant and like always, there were fans recording Charles and Y/N in the car, leaving the car, eating at the restaurant, talking, laughing, within the hour, Charles and Y/N were trending on Instagram, Twitter (X), and TikTok. As they waited for the check, Y/N was scrolling on TikTok when she found a video of her and Charles in the car.

“Charles, i think our ‘relationship’ went public.” Y/N said, showing him her phone. Charles’s eyes widened.

“Cant say I’m not surprised, I just thought videos wouldn’t be posted until later, you know?” Charles said and Y/N put her phone away.

“We haven’t even been ‘dating’ two hours and now everyone knows. You have no idea how sorry I am, I feel so bad for dragging you into this.” Y/N said.

“None of this wouldn’t have happened if Ruggero understood the word ‘no’ so you are fine, I’m glad I was able to help. But what was that thing you called me? ‘Muñeco’? Why did you call me that?” Charles asked.

“So ‘muñeco’ means ‘doll’, you have a pretty face, everyone says you’re good looking, you know you’re good looking. So muñeco just suits you, okay, especially with those dimples.” Y/N said, Charles smirked a little.

“You think I have a pretty face?” Charles asked teasingly.

“Great, I boosted your ego, like your head wasn’t big enough already. You literally said in one of those C2 challenges when Carlos had your photo that if you were a woman, you would be in love with yourself.” Y/N said. The waiter came in with the check and Y/N was going to take it but Charles was faster. “Dude, I told you I was gonna pay.”

“It would look good if you paid, there are cameras everywhere apparently.” Charles said, placing his credit card with the check. The waiter took the check.

“Then I’ll Apple Pay you. You gonna train today?” Y/N asked.

“Yes actually, come with me? You could post it to my story.” Charles asked. The waiter came back with Charles’s card.

“Yeah, I can do that. But we gotta go to Scuderia Ferrari for my car.” Y/N said, getting up from the table, Charles getting up as well.

“I think it can stay there overnight.” Charles said.

“You want me to spend the entire day with you? You’re insane.” Y/N commented as they were leaving the restaurant.

“Maybe, but it is to keep up appearances.” Charles said.

“I guess, but how long do we say we’ve been dating?” Y/N asked, getting into Charles’s car, he does the same.

“4 months seems good, don’t you think?” Charles asked.

“I guess that’s plausible.” Y/N said, Charles starts the car and drives off.

“Do you miss New York?” Charles asked.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.

“You travel a lot with us and you moved to Monaco for work, but do you ever miss New York? Your family? I know I miss my family when I’m away for races.” Charles said.

“I miss the food in New York, I can’t get decent tacos al pastor in Monaco, I gotta wait til the Mexican Grand Prix for them.” Y/N stated. “But yeah, I do miss New York.”

“You should ask for vacation time so you could go.” Charles said.

“I Don’t think they’ll give it to me, but thanks.” Y/N said.

For a week, Y/N and Charles have been spotted together everywhere, at races obviously, with Joris, Andrea, Doni, and Victoria, even with Charles’s family. Right now Y/N was with Charles at a club in Monaco. Y/N was at a table with Charles was at the bar getting drinks. Y/N noticed a girl flirting with Charles, touching his hand, before he pulled away with two drinks for him and Y/N.

“Charles, can we talk for a second?” Y/N asked.

“Sure, what’s on your mind, mon ange?” Charles asked, the nickname still causing butterflies in Y/N’s stomach.

“If you wanted to hook up with that girl, you can. I don’t want to have you tied down for a fake relationship.” Y/N said.

“I wasn’t interested in her at all, you know.” Charles commented.

“Really? What happens when the next girl that hits on you is more your type? I don’t want to hold you back, we are friends after all.” Y/N said.

“I have a confession to make.” Charles said, Y/N nodded her head for Charles to continue. “I’ve liked you for a while. Before you kissed me, it was a little crush, I thought it would have went away, but being with you this past week made my crush grow stronger. You don’t have to feel the same way, I just wanted to get this off my chest.” Y/N was shocked. Charles usually went for Instagram models, but he actually likes her, this was her dream come true.

“I’ve liked you for a while too, I just never thought you would see me that way.” Y/N said.

“I’m going to kiss you right now, okay?” Charles whispered, getting closer to Y/N, looking at her lips then back into her eyes, Y/N nodded, leaning in until their lips touched. It was a soft, gentle kiss, until Charles gained more confidence to do more. They pulled away. “Will you be my girlfriend? For real, this time?” Charles asked.

“Yes I will.” Y/N responded, they kissed again.

The End

Was this good? I think it was good, the pacing is weird, but I had no idea where this was going, just saying. Was it just as good as “prince of Ferrari”? Probably not, but I hope y’all liked it, should I keep writing Charles Leclerc fanfics?

[bidoofenergy]

watched the latest coleydoesthings video about dirty laundry and was suddenly forced to remember a whole bunch of stuff about the early days of the vld fandom yikes but does anyone remember Desi!Lance? i vividly remember that  when latinx!Lance was accepted fanon there was a lot of bullshit being thrown to people who headcanoned him as literally anything else does anyone else remember this

[chrollohearttags]

what abt plug!sukuna?

first time he met you, he thought it was some kinda joke. i mean, pink nails, shortest skirt problem known to man and the tightest shirt with ‘stunna girl’ printed on the front.

now sukuna ain’t one to really hold down any girls but the way you was talking and moving ?? ma boy was down baddd. spent nights at home, fisting his dick to some pic he found on your insta page.

swore that he would kill anyone who you try to buy from other than him. he doesn’t want you to get hooked on anything that’s laced. other than his dick

you can continue 🫣, if you want

oh my goshhhh! 😫😫 fren you stay eating these up. I love this real bad!

you were the last person that Sukuna expected to see running in his face. There was just no way this cute ass girl even ran in the same circles that he did. But here you were..rubbing up on his chest and running game on him in the kitchen of the hang out spot for him and his boys. “Now tell me why I ain’t never seen you around here before..” “I be out the way..” Some of the city’s most notorious drug dealers and shooters and here you were in the midst of the party; a red cup in hand filled with Casamigos, stained with your lip gloss after each sip. Long Hello Kitty decorated acrylics wrapped around the plastic and and he could only imagine what they’d look like cupping his cock instead..he figured that you were the girl of one of his opps, looking to make him jealous or just some rich girl hanging out on the wrong side of town to be rebellious but it was nothing of the sort. You were just bad as hell..and before he knew it, he had folded!

three hours later and he had you in the front seat of his Trackhawk, hotboxing and facing a blunt. His tattooed hands resting on your calves..rubbing gently as he watched you place it between those plump lips. “That shit good, baby?” “Very..” this isn’t something that he’d normally do. Having some random girl in his car, laid up like this but he couldn’t help himself. Not when you were sitting so pretty in his lap as you rolled his weed and licked the blunt afterwards. Out of respect, he didn’t take it any further than night..nothing more than a few subtle brushes up your thigh and a kiss to the cheek. He wasn’t the type to rush things. But later than night, even after you two had long parted ways, the baddie with the butterfly tattoo, dressed like a Bratz doll was fresh on his mental. So much so, he found himself searching you up on social media and it was more than enough to keep his wheels turning. Before he knew it; sitting up in bed with a sheet tossed lightly across his lower half, Ryo found himself jacking off to your pictures. Foaming at the mouth and moaning your name at the sight of you twerking in a bikini and Moon Boots. Needless to say, he was hooked. So the next time you two linked for your next fix, there was no holding back for either of you. “I couldn’t wait to see you again. You been on my mind, baby..” “You been on my mine too, Ryo..shit!” Confessing as he held you midair, bouncing you up and down on his dick. Holding you as if you were practically weightless in his arms. A Cuban link swinging against his chest with each stroke. That night was the best you’d ever experienced! Getting high on both his sex and his weed. Placed into a mating press with his fingers in your mouth, slow thrusts from missionary with your toes in his and the backshots had you tapping out. Even so, you were hooked!..addicted and there wasn’t a chance that he’d ever let you get it from anyone else. Not if he had anything to do with it. Now every time you needed to reach ecstasy, whether through the drug or fucking, Ryo was the one you’d call. Not only that, he’d spoil you with gifts, take you out to eat and although things weren’t set in stone, when everyone saw you, they knew:

that’s Sukuna’s girl.

[cottonconnielvr]

Miguel Ohara who has a City girl girlfriend! who LOVES going out with her bestfriends but she be testing him with the outfits she be wearing I’m talkin bout titties popping, ass out, outfits and like one night she goes too far, and like he fucks her..

Yeah. 🤷🏾‍♀️

PAIRINGS ✩ — miguel o’hara x black!hyperfem!reader

WARNINGS ✩ — drunk!reader, tummy bulge,edging, smut stuffff, didn’t proofread so excuse mistakes xx

THE sound of the City Girls blared from Miguel’s phone. His thumb pressed down on the phone, pausing your story. Your 24 inch black straight hair laid down your back. Your boobs were on the verge of falling out of your dress, your cuban link chain glistened under the light of the flash. He lifted his thumb up, allowing the video to continue playing. He watched as your friends shows your body all off to the camera, your ass cheeks hanging out and all. He can see the tattoo of his last name on the underside of your ass cheek, followed by the scar of where he first ever bit you.

He asked for you to not go out tonight, not in the mood to be defending the city at night and worried about his girlfriend who couldn’t stay away from a good time.

He clicked and clicked through videos, you chugging a drink down with your bestfriend, some random guy doing the worm to Poundtown, tons of angles of you singing R&B songs.

The next video was what set him off – you needed to come home now. You were drunk and giggling, bent over a stool as your best-friend took a jell-o shot off of your ass. A few college boys were recording as well, horny as hell.

Miguel was already fed up with you, your outfit being way too revealing.

You could wear whatever you wanted of course but, showing others what’s his..? Nah. Not gonna slide. He finds it amusing, he’s paralyzed you so many times with his dick, you’d think you’d be able to respect his wishes. But you just had to disobey him.

He spammed your phone with multiple calls that went to voicemail, many replies to your story, and many imessages.

Meanwhile, you just pulled up to another club with a bigger group than you arrived with. At this point you were fucked up, shaking your ass anytime you bent over. You were feeling a bit horny tho, missing your strong man so much.

“Ughhhh I miss my mannn” You dramatically throw your head back.

“Um speaking of your man he’s been blowing your phone up for like 30 mins” You best friend laughs as she nodded her head to the muffled music playing from outside the club.

“Oh oh oh! Where is my phone” You frantically looked around you, turning the flash on your phone to see the dark…. wait the flash on your phone?You looked up at your right hand, giggling at the coincidence. You were holding your phone the hold entire time.

“Man am I wasted!?” You asked out loud, walking into the club cheering with a random burst of energy. You immediately walked to the bar, Latch by Disclosure playing loudly. Your phone vibrated once again as you sat at the bar.

BIG DICK🧛🏽

11:35 PM

Bring your ass home.

Right now Y/N i’m not playing.

11:43 PM

Answer your phone.

I told you not to go out.

Answer.

12:31 PM

Okay Y/N.

Omw.

READ 12:56 AM

Oh fuck.

He was on his way like right now. You scrambled to check his location, it took a couple seconds to reload. Just then it refreshed, his contact picture right on top of your best-friends location.

“Let’s go” A deep voice rumbled into your ear.

“Mig-” Your whines were cut off when your arm was snatched up by Miguel. “Wait” You followed behind as he dragged you out of the club.

“Ba-by wait..” You tried to come up with an excuse. You thought Miguel had a mission for the night and you meant to hide him from your story.

“Get in the car and shut up Y/N” Miguel opened the passenger door. You shut your mouth, knowing that if you just listen, you’re punishment wouldn’t be as harsh.

Miguel walked to the other side of the car, opening his door but his movements halted when you whispered out something inaudible.

“What?” Miguel looked over at you with anger. “I left my .. purse with B/N (bestfriend name)… and it’s like designer… can you get it?” You looked over at him with teary eyes. Miguel just started at you for a moment, you’re gonna kill him.

He sucks in a deep breath before getting out of the car, closing the door to go get your purse.

He soon came back to you sleeping in the passenger seat, shaking his head.

Thirty minutes later, you’re getting carried bridal style. Miguel carried your heels,purse, and the house key in one hand. His other hand firmly holding your weight.

He swung the penthouse door closed with his foot, taking you to the bedroom. “Mig?” Your pouty whiney voice called out. “Go ahead and rest mama, you’ll be up allll night tomorrow”

“Mhmmph” You muffled out into Miguel’s shoulder as he pounded his lower half into you. “F-fuck! Fucking gripping me” Miguel hissed as you clenched against him. “Harder” You pant out, body getting squished into the mattress.

“Harder baby? Yeah?” He smiled down at you, such a fucking whore.

This was originally supposed to be punishment for last nights actions but, knowing Miguel he can’t resist you.

“Yeah” You smile back at him before your eyes rolled back as he delivered a punch to your cervix. “Ahh..shitt” Miguel moaned out as he could feel himself so deep in you. He looks down to the bulge that appears everytime he thrusts inside you. “Feel me ma? I’m right here s-shit” Miguel presses his hand on the bulge.

“I’m cummingg” You tapped his arm, clenching around his hard length. “Not yet pretty” He slid out of you. “You were bad remember” He sickly smiled down at you.

“Nooo” You whine out in frustration, “M’sorryyy I told you this!”

“Prove it to me that you deserve it then” Miguel say up against the headboard, dragging you on top of him. Your hand stroked up and down his cock before you slid down onto him.

“Fuck” You whimpered in unison. You placed your hands on his shoulders, breathing heavily. “C-can’t move”

“Yes you can pretty girl. You can take it cariño” He placed a kiss on your chin before slowly moving you up and down. You followed his guidance, throwing your head back in pleasure. “Just like that mama,” He lets go of your waist and slapped your ass before growling out, “Good girl”

“Make us cum and maybe i’ll forgive you”

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

michael knowles is not the good ol boy America deserves, but he’s the good ol boy America needs right now

[sluts4matt]

CLASS PROJECT

pairing: soft!nate x latina!reader

summary: nate had always been distracting, you knew that, but you didn't realize how distracting he was until you got paired with him for your final project of the semester and couldn't seem to actually focus on it.

warnings: SMUT, swearing, making out, oral (female receiving), fingering, pet names (use of the words ma and princess), no actual p in v in this one.

word count: 2449

author's note: im a matt girl i swear but guys nate’s boston accent 😍😍

you had been paying attention all of class, or so you thought until the teacher called your name and your head shot up, you're eyes shooting wide. "did you hear what i said?" she asked, her hands on her hips as she looked at you expectedly.

you shook your head, looking down bashfully, "no ma'am," you admitted. she sighed, making a tsking sound before repeating herself, "i just assigned a group project for your final, i need you to partner up with nate," she said, causing you to look to your side.

the boys blue eyes were already on you as he gave you a small smile. you looked back at the teacher nodding your head before the bell rang. people started packing up as the teacher sighed, "the bell doesn't dismiss you, i do," which earned eye rolls and groans from students.

"see you tomorrow everyone, i'm expecting to hear that you guys have come up with great plans for this final," she called as people walked out.

you packed up your things, waiting patiently for nate to grab his stuff. he turned to you, his eyes shining, "my house or yours?" he asked, digging around his pocket for his keys as you did the same thing, digging around in your bag for your own.

"mine," you replied, pulling your keys out finally. he followed as you walked out of the classroom going towards the big double doors at the front of the school. "should i follow you? or do you want to send me your address?" he asked, making you stop in place.

the realization that nate didn't actually know where you lived settling in. you grabbed a pen from the side pocket of your bag, swiftly grabbing his arm, and flipping it over to write your address across his pale flesh. "there, now i'll see you in 20," you said, before turning and heading to your car.

nate showed up at your house 5 minutes earlier than you had told him, his hair slightly damp and messy. you tilted your head at him, making a small tsking noise, "gonna have to teach you how to be punctual with your time," you teased, making him roll his eyes playfully.

"sorry for being early," he said, his tone mocking your own. you turned, walking away as you let him in. your mom came from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.

"you must be nate," she smiled, her cuban accent thick and her eyes a dark brown, different than your own green ones you had received from your fathers genes. "yes ma'am," he smiled politely, nodding his head as he took her hand in his own shaking it.

she let him go, waving her hand, "nonsense, no need to call me ma'am, makes me feel old, my name is naomi," she said, her tone soft and inviting.

"well, thank you for having me naomi," he smiled, his cheeks dimpling cutely. "oh of course, mi casa es su casa," she said, turning and heading back to the kitchen. "your mom seems nice," nate stated, looking down at the girl who was watching her mom go back to the kitchen with a furrowed expression.

"yeah, sure," you mumbled, turning towards the stairs, "come on." nate followed behind you as you ascended the stairs, stopping outside your room.

you pushed open the door, your eyes landing on the unmade bed and clothes scattered on the floor, "sorry about the mess," you said, stepping in and immediately picking up the scattered close.

"my rooms probably worse to be honest," he chuckled, giving you an amused look as he watched you scurry to clean it slightly. he couldn't help his nose as he picked up the subtle smell of weed and mint, something he wasn't used to but didn't hate.

"ok, it's better," you said, straightening up and taking in a deep breath. "my rooms not normally messy," you say with a timid smile, "i was just in a rush this morning," you say, turning and walking to your desk.

"it's fine, don't worry about it," he said, plopping down onto your bed. "okay, the big question is, what are we doing this project on?" you mumble, flipping through your history book.

you didn't even notice nates eyes on you, his mind racing with a million thoughts. you were gorgeous, a fact that had been established in middle school, the way your curls cascaded flawlessly down your back. he would be lying if he said he didn't use to count your freckles when you weren't paying attention.

his eyes would trail down your tan skin, wanting to be able to touch it innocently, just to feel if it's as soft as he thinks it is. your eyes were a beautiful shade of green, something that always caught his attention. your lips were full, always painted in a sheer red, pink, or purple gloss that he found himself wanting to taste.

you were the embodiment of perfection, or at least he thought so. the way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you carried yourself, the way you made friends easily and never really got in trouble, always doing the right thing. he was always jealous of the people who got to call themselves your friend, not having the guts to walk up and start an actual conversation with you.

"don't know, wasn't actually paying attention," he shrugged, nonchalantly, bringing a hand through his golden locks. "that's helpful," you huffed, looking over at him, "guess we're winging it," you gulped, already repeating the words 'i'll get a good grade on this' in your head over and over.

"guess so," he nodded, pulling a random bucket you had in your room over next to your desk chair. he rested his elbow on your desk, his chin going into his palm as he looked a the text book sprawled out in front of the two of you.

"maybe we can talk about the civil war," he said, his eyes squinting at the page as he tried to read the words. "maybe," you said with a frown, "would be mediocre though," you sighed, resting your face in your hands.

nate chuckled, watching you groan, "we'll think of something," he said, "we still have all month," he reminded, watching as your face changed from frustration to something else, something more relaxed.

"yeah, i guess," you sighed, pushing the textbook away and grabbing a notebook, "we should at least make a timeline, and list topics we can talk about," you suggested. "yeah, why not," he shrugged, his eyes meeting yours, his pupils dilating as he watched your lips purse together, something you always did when you were thinking.

you wrote a bunch of different topics, things to talk about, and important dates that nate had forgotten.

an hour passed and nate had been more of a distraction then he had help, not that he wasn't helping every once in a while.

his eyes were still on your face as you tapped your pen against the paper, his mind thinking of a hundred dirty things that he shouldn't have been. "you're staring," you stated, looking up at him, his blue eyes darting back to your green ones. "my bad," he shrugged, a smirk playing at his lips.

"what's got you so distracted," you asked, tilting your head slightly. "you," he shrugged, watching your expression go from confused to intrigued, your lips forming a small pout, making him bite his bottom lip.

"oh yeah?" you asked, your eyebrows raising slightly, "what about me?" you questioned, closing the notebook, and tossing the pen onto your desk, giving him your undivided attention as you turned towards him.

"you're just a very distracting person," he said, leaning closer to you. you let out a small laugh, "how am i distracting?" you asked, your eyes flickering to his lips for a second, making nate grin.

"do you really want me to tell you, or do you just want me to show you?" he asked, his eyes going half lidded as he watched your lips part, the tip of your tongue running over your bottom lip, making him clench his jaw.

"show me," you said, barely above a whisper, leaning closer to him. he didn't need anymore invitation as his lips met yours in a gentle kiss, his hands gripping your waist, bringing you closer.

the kiss was innocent, at first, both of you testing the waters, feeling each other out. your lips were just as soft as nate imagined they were, his large hands pulling you into his lap, his chest pressing against yours.

the kiss turned heated, your guys' tongues sliding together. his hands finding there way under the fabric of your shirt, feeling the skin on your back. he softly brought his hands up just to gently run his nails down.

you whimpered, the feeling of his blunt nails on your back sending shockwaves through you, goosebumps forming. nate pulled away, looking at you as you panted, his eyes dark, pupils blown. "i think i like kissing you," you breathed out, making him chuckle, "i think i do too," he mumbled, connecting his lips to yours again.

this time the kiss was hot, nates tongue exploring your mouth, his hands trailing up your sides, his thumbs just under your breast. he pulled away, attaching his lips to the spot right under your ear. you let out a gasp, your eyes going wide at the sensation.

"nate," you whispered, as his lips sucked the spot on your neck. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to you. you felt him grin against your neck, his teeth gently grazing over the area he had just sucked, making you whimper.

his hands found the hem of your shirt, "is this okay?" he mumbled against your neck, his lips peppering kisses along the column of your throat. "mhm," you breathe, nodding your head.

he didn't need anymore confirmation as he pulled the fabric off of your body, his eyes immediately going to your chest, a red lacy bra, with a bow in the center holding the two mounds on your chest together. "so pretty, ma," he said, his voice deep, sending heat between your legs.

he didn't waste time in unhooking the material, tossing it to the floor. his lips found their way to the newly exposed skin, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, his hand showing the other one love as his fingers tugged and twisted at the pink bud.

you were a panting mess above him, your hands tangled in his hair as he worshiped your body. he released your nipple with a pop, his eyes connecting with yours. "lay back for me," he mumbled, watching as you complied, laying down on the bed, the cold sheets touching your warm back.

he hovered over you, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your body. he stopped right at the hem of your shorts, his hands undoing the button and zipper, quickly pulling them down your legs.

he licked his lips, seeing the red lace that matched your bra, a damp spot in the middle, his mouth watered. "can i eat you out, pretty girl?" he asked, looking up at you, his blue eyes dark with lust.

"please," you whimpered, making him smirk. "such a nice girl, using your manners," he said, leaning down and nipping at the flesh of your inner thighs. you let out a small whine, watching as his lips made a trail to where you needed him most.

he left open mouthed kisses along the inside of your thigh, before he pulled the red fabric to the side. he licked a fat stripe up your slit, causing your hips to buck. he chuckled, placing his large hand on your stomach, and pinning you down, his fingers digging into the flesh.

"don't move, princess," he commanded, his tongue lapping up the juices that were spilling from your core. his tongue flicked over your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his lips wrapping around the small bud. one of your hands flew to his hair while the other flew to your mouth, trying to silence the moans coming from your lips.

"want to hear you baby," he mumbled, releasing your clit, and plunging two of his long fingers into your tight cunt. your head flew back, the pleasure overwhelming as his fingers curled inside of you. "fuck, nate," you breathed, "my m- fuck," you cut yourself of with a whine.

"moms h-home," you panted, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a fast pace, curling just right to hit that spot inside of you. "don't care," he said, his teeth gently nibbling at your sensitive clit.

your walls clenched around his fingers, causing him to let out a groan. he pumped his fingers faster, the wet sounds filling the room, "such a sloppy cunt, you gonna cum for me?" he asked, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bundle of nerves, "going to be a good girl, and cum for me?" he questioned.

"fuck, nate, i- fuck, m'cumming," you cried, your legs shaking as his fingers and tongue worked in sync, his free hand moving up to tweak at your nipple. you felt the knot in the pit of your stomach tighten, your toes curling.

"there we go, cum for me baby," he encouraged, watching as you came undone around his fingers, your juices flowing out of you and onto his hand.

"fuck, so pretty, coming on my fingers," he said, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he worked you through your high. once your breathing went back to normal, he pulled his fingers out, he kept his eyes trained on you as he stuck them in his mouth, cleaning them, then pulling them back with a 'pop'.

"rags?" he asked, his hands rubbing over your thighs as he watched your legs shake. "bathroom," you mumble, pointing to your bathroom door. he disappeared for a minute before coming back, a white wash cloth in his hand.

his feet carried him back over to your bed, kneeling in between your legs as he swept the fabric between your thighs, cleaning the mess. once he was done, he tossed it into your hamper, making his way back onto the bed.

"you doing okay?" he asked, laying on his side, his head propped up on his hand, his elbow on the mattress. "mm, better than okay," you mumbled, opening your eyes to look up at him.

he smiled, his dimples showing, "glad i could be of assistance," he smirked, making you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully.

tag list:

@chrryclouds @sturniolossss @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @tillies33ssss @hysteria-things @soimightlikeoldmen69

[jawz]

i’ve been thinking a lot lately about the way my ethnicity affected the way i was gendered as a child, my drive to transition, and even my detransition…

as a hispanic growing up with my white mom and white stepdad and white brother and white extended family in scandinavian hell (minnesota), i always felt different, always felt wrong. (my parents divorced as a baby, and my dad and his family, cuban and italian, all live in florida.) my neighborhood wasn’t so bad; it was way more diverse than the metro area itself. growing up i had mixed friends, i had friends with curly hair… but us trailer park kids were only a fraction of the population of our schools and district. a sea of blonde hair. there were times in elementary school i would literally pray to god to make my hair straight, make my eyes blue. grown-ups touched my hair and always asked “is it naturally curly?”. my classmates urged me to straighten it and by age 13 it was part of my ridiculously time-consuming “feminizing” beauty rituals.

much earlier, by the age of 8 or 9, i already had thick, dark hair growing on my legs. other kids, boys and girls alike, called me “gorilla girl”, faked gagging when i wore shorts, insisted i was actually a boy. that one became more and more common as i came into my personality: bold, class clown, competitive with the boys. (always wanting to charm the girls, but i didn’t recognize that back then.)

my mustache was there by 8, as well. just a little peach fuzz above my lip but dark enough to notice. are you even a girl? my mom would spread wax over her own face and soon began waxing my stache as well. it hurt so badly. i put up with it because she said it would make the kids stop teasing me. of course i was a girl- she was a woman and she had peach fuzz too!… but i felt self-conscious at the fact that my body hair was so much more noticeable, even as a child. my mother’s hair is very thin, straight, lighter brown; her complexion is warmer than mine, pink where mine is olive, green and yellow. i worried you could see the strands about to burst through. i was worried that to be a girl- a woman- i must hide parts of myself every day. i must cover the shoots of grass, the weeds that reveal that i’m not fit for society, that whisper i’m wild and untamed.

it wasn’t actually until i was 18 at least that i actually started to consider myself latino. i had sometimes said ‘hispanic’ growing up, as that’s what my family in florida called themselves; they referred to themselves as “spanish”, which i found out was not quite true after compiling my family tree and discovering that those ancestors emigrated from havana. in their minds they were white: “descended from spanish royalty” (as if!!)… i had spent my youth constantly trying to claim solely whiteness, confused as to why everyone was asking me “are you mexican?” “are you jewish?” “are you middle eastern?” - even though inside i think i knew. i knew my family didn’t look like me. i resented my surname being changed to Lind when i was five, my stepdad’s name, in order to give me the same name as the rest of them. despite my apparent envy of swedes and norwegians i knew it wasn’t my name; i still stood out terribly. i glared at myself in the mirror every day, i never could move past how the kids at school said my eyes were the color of shit, that my hair looked like pubes, that i must have had a sex change without being told because that would explain the mustache, the aggression…

by the time i was fourteen i was entirely primed to accept an alternative explanation to what was “wrong” with me. my sexuality was becoming more and more apparent but before i could ever come out as lesbian or even bi, i had discovered what it meant to be trans. i was so immediately certain that this was the key, THIS was why everyone said i didn’t fit in, THIS was why my behavior wasn’t girly, THIS was why i wanted to date girls. it was 2011, still deep in the “brain sex” era of the trans community, and i was sure without a shadow of a doubt that i was physically female, mentally male. all that needed to be done was to “correct” my body and bring it in line with my brain. despite the fact that very few people knew what transition actually was back then, i genuinely assumed it would make sense to everyone else, too: they had told me i wasn’t ‘really’ a girl so many times i had no trouble believing it.

transition, of course, did not suddenly de-latinize me LOL. first i became a total Other, outside of both the minnesotan ethnic norms and the gender+sex norms; eventually, with hormones and surgery at a very young age, i was able to pass as a boy, but by the time i could grow actual full-on facial hair, i realized i was still the pan-latin american enigma to people around me. multiple times someone would call me “sanchez” as some sort of attempted insult or joke. police looked at me differently than they had before. shop owners followed me, accused me of shoplifting. and sometimes, the white girls i dated told me that i was way cooler than all the boring white boys they knew. one girl even called me “exotic” to my face. it was, apparently, a compliment.

when i was 21 i heard that my girlfriend had referred to me to others as “a POC who identifies as white”. it felt as though she didn’t even know me at all. i’d never claimed either of those things to her.

moving to the west coast (socal specifically, where being latino/a is not considered ‘abnormal’) illuminated a lot of the bizarre and unnatural racial expectations of my midwest upbringing; i think by this point i was beginning to realize what so many things from my childhood had meant. that they weren’t really saying i was a boy. they were saying we don’t like girls who look like you, and we’d rather not have you included in our category.

it took me another three years to fully reckon with this. by the time i decided to detransition i had a much better understanding of the circumstances of my life; conversations with close friends who are also latina and have walked similar paths to me, heard similar insults, similar “compliments”, opened my eyes to the fact that i was not alone. i no longer feel weird for thinking the race/ethnicity boxes on government forms are hopelessly reductive. i know who i am and who i am not.

(around this time, i happened upon some old pictures of my dad’s side of the family. beautiful and glamorous women: adela, my uncle’s mother, the piano player; melanie, my aunt, the wife, hostess, and addict; lauren and andrea, my cousins, the restauranteurs; stella, my dad’s mamma, the widow and matriarch. and on all their faces, thick dark eyebrows, and, yes, that ever-familiar peach fuzz. i swear it healed something in my soul. despite my lack of beauty and glamor, we are not so different after all.)

that’s not to say all things are easy now. i’ve spent three years living as a GNC woman and if that wasn’t enough to confirm most all of my hypotheses on people’s perceptions of me, i don’t know what is.

detrans spaces (like most trans spaces) are overwhelmingly white- or at least that’s who dominates conversation. i see SO much downplaying of the things that naturally hairy women go through societally. i see trans allies who purport to be “okay” with detransitioners, saying “what’s the big deal? if you took testosterone you can just go off it and get laser hair removal!! :)” as if laser isn’t expensive as hell, painful as hell, and also WAY more of a process for a woman with dark curly hair than it is for one with straight blonde hair lmfao!!! i see detrans women obsessed with removing all traces of hair from their bodies (even though most of them clearly don’t have a neverending five o’clock shadow like some of us do! my lower face has a constant blue-green disturbance under the surface which makes female spaces incredibly daunting) and insulting the rest of us for being ugly and hairy and making no effort to look like women or what the fuck ever. basically, a lot of people who claim to support us are just racists and essentialists and believe that sex is visual and not biological…🤨

anyway… i guess my main takeaways from all this are:

1. please stop acting like detransition is an entirely internal process and that it’s easy for all of us to be seen as our sex again (some of us like. actually transitioned and passed as the opposite sex), or that potential physical interventions aren’t incredibly invasive and difficult

2. stop assuming all transition and detransition journeys follow your own experience of lifelong whiteness and hairlessness

3. it is a distinct experience to be regularly de-gendered or denied your sex, PRIOR to ever thinking of yourself as literally trans. many trans/detrans people had this happen to us (we were once the vast majority of trans people). but many did not, and generally shock others when they begun breaking gender norms. i really think people from the second group often have trouble understanding that for the first group, changing gender expression is basically a bandaid over an abscess… we have lived entire lifetimes being denied our sex, being told our bodies are not “truly” ours, that there is someone else inside trying to break out. kicked out of the bathroom, the changing room, alienated from single-sex peer groups. transition just flips this experience and instead separates us from our preferred gender group, reinforcing the feeling that we have no place, anywhere.

race/ethnicity, being homosexual or bisexual, mental illness stigma, disability, and low economic class all play an additional role in this. stop perpetuating this and denying us our biological sex.