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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA for insulting my best friend, and attacking her boyfriend? I (21 X) was best friends T (21 F). We met in high school and I really clicked with her, and we've been living together since we were both eighteen. Anyway. We do volunteer work together. It's mostly stuff like cleaning trash, distrubting food to the homeless, etc. Not super glamarous. During one of our projects, T met and started dating this new guy, A (24 M). I cannot stand A. He's really unpleasant towards me, and i feel like he's taking advantage of T. He's makes unfunny 'jokes' about my mental health. This was annoying, but w/e.

However over the last month he's been constantly disrespecting our volunteer work, and really laying into me. I've been arrested before for shoplifting, and A hangs it above my head. He often makes comments about i'm a bad influence on her, and that i'll get her arrested by proxy. [Sometimes we do kinda illegal things. But its strictly relegated to stuff like removing bars from benches and shit. Not hurting anyone] Recently T has started to become distant from me, and i think she believes what he's been saying. She's stopped volunteering with me, and barely lives in our shared apartment, staying around exclusivley with her boyfriend.

Anyway this came to ahead when A and T actually came to the apartment to grab somethings. I tried at first to ask T what was up, and why she was acting like that to me. Why she quit volunteering. She kept dodging the question. So i lost my temper and started yelling at her, about how she was a shitty friend and completely ghosted me over A, who was a complete dick. Mind you this has been going on for a month. A then decided i was being too aggresive [i was yelling at most. Both of them are at least a foot taller than me, and i am maybe 100 lbs. I was not a threat] and he tried to restrain me. This set me off, so i defended myself. Again, i did not have the phyical advantage, and was panicking really badly, so i started doing shit like biting him to get free [i'm not proud of that].

we eventually broke apart. T got A to agree to not press charges, but she layed into me about how i was a shitty person, and that A had made her realise how toxic i was. that i used good causes to justify continuing to break the law for fun, and that i probably had a personality disorder. she said she didn't hate me, but she'd only mend things if i changed. Then she left with A. its been a week and we havent talked

i kinda feel like i could be ta, due to the assault, but also being invasive towards T. i do have issues when it comes to paranoia, and there is a chance it was normal levels of people changing, and i just overblew it and turned it into the mess. but on the other hand, i still feel justified due to how A started things first, and T, despite being such a long term friend, completely ignored me and backstabbed me. So aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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just-a-pole-sir · 9 months

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Are you attracted to Zane Phillips? Do you watch Glamarous?

I don't watch Glamorous, but I loved him in Legacies :)

#zane phillips #asks #anon

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oro-e-diamanti · 1 year

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Can i please request thomas + no. 17, maybe with a little bit of angst, fluff and smut?

"We passed 'just friends' about 20 fucks ago."

Thomas + angst/fluff/smut

“And for your girlfriend?”

You look up in surprise at the bartender’s question. It’s not directed at you – rather at Thomas, already nursing his own drink, arm slung around you as he’s standing next to you. He seems surprised, the alcohol already having an effect on him as he turns to you and raises his eyebrows with a smirk. You quickly put an end to it.

“Not his girlfriend. Just friends.”

“Cucciola, we passed ‘just friends’ about 20 fucks ago.”

You don’t have a drink to choke on but you’re sure you would do a spit take if there had been any liquid left in your mouth. Your head whips around towards Thomas at lightning speed. It takes a moment to digest that he actually said this out loud. For everyone to hear. Okay, potentailly only the bartender, who is now trying to hide his grin, but his boldness still takes you by surprise. Without any further explanation, you steal Thomas’ drink, downing what was left, before taking his hand and dragging him away.

The toilets are small, unisex, and far from glamarous, but they’ll do, you think, as you push him into a stall, following him in and locking the door behind you. It’s quiet. The music of the bar is muffled by the walls. No one else is in the room, not many people have ventured out on a Wednesday night. So all you hear is your beating heart and Thomas’ giggles.

“What the fuck was that about?” you ask, pushing him into the wall behind him to make room for your anger, but he’s not impressed.

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” His smirk slowly drops from his face. “Not sure what you think we’re doing, but this sure as hell isn’t friends.”

You’re not sure what to say. And if you’re honest, that’s not something that happens a lot.

“Come on, don’t look at me like that.” He’s patting the pockets of his jeans. You know he’s looking for his cigarettes but you’re also aware that Ethan stole them back earlier this evening. “It’s what you do, isn’t it? Get too close, get a few fucks in, then leave them. Hardly makes us ‘just friends’, does it?”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard Thomas this cynical. His words sting, too. You can’t even argue back. It’s not like he’s wrong. You’ve done this before, more than once, a string of casual aquiantances giving you what you needed until they didn’t anymore and you moved on.

But they have never been your friends before.

You haven’t put much thought into it before. Having known Thomas for years, the transition into something more had been seamless once he broke up with his girlfriend and complained about a lack of physical intimacy weeks later. It’s not like the other times. It’s not even close. There was no talk to find your boundaries, to ensure you’re on the same page, to agree on the terms. It simply keeps happening. You don’t know which part you regret most right now.

“You’re different,” you finally say, but he scoffs.

“Is that the line you feed all of them?”

You wince at the harshness in his voice. Taking a careful step forward, you almost press your body against his in the small cabin. You don’t know how to make him believe but you can’t bear the distance.

“I’ve never said that to anyone.” Your voice almost breaks and you want to scold yourself for it. “I’m not using you, Thomas. You’re not just one of many. I…”

The words almost slip out of your mouth, words you’ve never said to him before, words you weren’t aware you have been thinking about, but all of a sudden you just know. His eyes meet yours. It feels like he’s seeing you for the first time. His gaze has softens, the scowl on his face gone, and his composure is wavering.

“Me too,” he finally says and then, out of nowhere but at the same time perfectly premeditated, your mouths crash into each other. His arms wrap around you instantly, a possessive gesture that feels both loving and fueled by frantic need. You return the sentiment easily, hands in his hair, somehow both pushing his head further toward you and pulling at the blond strands.

His lips are on your throat, the place where your neck meets your shoulder, the cleavage on show in your lowcut top and he must be crouching uncomfortably, but you mind is full of nothing but Thomas, Thomas, Thomas and you can’t get enough. You drag his head back up by his hair and a moment passes where you simply stare at each other, heavy breathing rattling both of your chests, eyes dark with lust, hair messed up, and you think he’s beautiful.

You think you should take your time. You should be doing this any place but a random toilet in some bar you’ve never been to and will never go to again. You should make sure he knows this means something. But somehow, still, both of you think you’re exactly where you need to be, right here and now, with each other. Everything else will still be there later. But you need him now, and you can tell he’s thinking the same.

Your hands start tearing at his belt at the same time as his are moving under your dress. His fingertips are hot against your flesh. The belt buckle finally gives way. You don’t hesitate in pulling his jeans and his boxers down in one. It only takes one touch to his already hardening cock to completely distract him from his own movements. He gasps loudly when you finally touch him, head thrown back until it audibly hits the wall behind him. You grasp onto his flesh, bringing his face towards you again with your other hand to kiss him breathlessly. It gives him enough room to start fumbling with your underwear again, pulling at it until it hits the floor at your feet.

You briefly think about having to walk home without your panties because there’s no way you’re putting them on again after they’ve hit the floor of a public bathroom. But then his fingers are on you, tracing your clit, feeling your wetness, moving into you, and you don’t care all that much anymore.

“Thomas, I… please.”

He knows. Removing his fingers, he pushes you backwards, gently, until you hit the opposite wall. He grabs onto one of your thighs, holding it up, inviting you to wrap your leg around him, opening you up. When he enters you, you keep the eye contact and you don’t think that’s something you’ve ever done before.

A silent fuck leaves him and you smile. You know exactly what he’s feeling. You’re doing too. It’s different, this time. If someone asked about it, you might have said it’s the first time it feels like it’s more than fucking. It’s closer to making love. In a public toilet, drunk, at constant risk of being caught, but somehow, it’s love all the same.

He’s moving differently, too. He knows what to do, how to touch you to coax the sweetest moans from you, but he’s not doing it just to get off now. He’s treasuring the moment, keeping his eyes on you, keeping his mouth on yours as much as he can. It’s closer. It’s better. It’s so much better.

Thomas is still looking at you when you come and you try your hardest to keep your eyes open as you ride through the waves he’s providing you with, needing to share this moment with him so badly. You clench around him, pulling him that little bit closer, pulling at his hair that little bit harder, and he’s coming undone too, eyes on your until he fully succumbs to the pleasure and lets his head drop onto yours.

You stay like that for a while, panting against each other, his head leaning on yours, your arms and leg around him, still joined, still intimate. Neither wants to break the moment. It’s the sound of a door opening that drags you back to reality. You finally move away from each other. You listen closely as the person moves around the room, uses the toilet, the running water of the sink, leaves again, while Thomas puts his clothes back into place. The panties on the floor are swiftly discarded into a bin.

Neither of you speaks, but you’re relieved to see your smile mirrored on his face. When he takes your hand, you let him. You ignore the shouts from the rest of the band as he pulls you back to the bar, already knowing they’ll be making comments about what you’ve been up to, whooping and laughing. The bartender raises and eyebrow but breaks up into a grin as Thomas speaks and you can’t help but do the same.

“Some red wine for my girl, please.”

#thomas raggi blurb #thomas raggi smut #thomas raggi x you #thomas raggi fiction #thomas raggi x reader #blurb #prompt blurb #my writing #writing

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jay-whyy · 3 months

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That Day

I remember that day you died...

Everyone did rush to your place,

But, no one present shed a tear.

That stench of a corpse in your bed,

I could not at all tolerate,

I wonder if I should've prayed,

When I was standing at your door.

No, I wasn't standing there, no,

I was peering at your body,

Hiding far behind my mother.

I could not stand your rotting stench.

At your glamarous funeral,

I saw it your final party,

And you were dressed beautifully.

The church overlooked your body,

And I was there to send you off,

The first of your niece and nephews.

I remember their despaired cries,

As they saw that you were dead, gone,

Ten past the middle of your life.

I really can't help but wonder,

If this will be my funeral.

Then I realize: No, it won't,

For I will be the last to leave.

The next generation doesn't,

And will not understand me, or,

Who I was, truly, mentally.

What is the point of a farewell,

If no one will be there to mourn?

Just like how I never did mourn,

Over the death of my uncle.

#original poem #poem #poetry #poems and poetry #poems on tumblr #poetic #spilled ink #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #long poem #tw death #spilled words #words words words #my words #life #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #and i wonder if he ever felt this way

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fillinforlater · 1 year

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Minju is perfection, hot & glamarous

Hot girl, beautiful girl, best girl

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natequarter · 11 months

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would love to havve heard that conversation. how do we show children that being a highwayman wasnt glamarous? i know lets get mat to dress up with eyeliner and twirl around to the tune of a song by adam ant. this will do it

"and you know what we really, absolutely need to add, mat?"

"...great vocals?"

"EYELINER!"

#asks #horrible histories

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artemiseamoon · 2 years

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Flirting with Danger

Chapter one: A family business

Words: 2,372

F reader x Ramón

A Narcos MX| A 4 chapter fic | Timeline: S3 events

* to the Anon who asked about this, here’s a taste!

GIF credit to owners 💕

Next | fic info

AN: Y’all want a preview of what’s happening? I have three WIPs about undercover agents, all different stories and outcomes. I’m not rushing them, letting them form organically. As I sat to write one today, this one took over. So just rolling with it! I’m still undecided if I’ll only post a preview here and the full thing on A03 only. I’m on the fence. Anyway, this is looking like a 4 parter. 5 max. I’m working on it. 😁

⚠️ overall Warnings: canon show warnings, if you know those, you know what to expect. Adult 18+ mature content. Violence drugs, sexual themes, deaths, etc. Dont read what you dont like. Don’t read what upsets you. You have the free will to keep scrolling. Expect some angst, some conflict, some grey morality, some mutual pining, some angst. | Content disclaimer: You know my usual narcos disclaimer, this is fan fic, not an effort to glamarize the horrific acts of real persons. I do not support what these people have done. Thanks!

Everyone who worked closely with the Arellano Felix family was blood, grew up with them, or underwent a serious vetting process before being let in. It was like a special club that barely admitted new members.

Your job sounded simple on paper but was indeed very complex. Get close to the family and acquire as much intel as you could. You remember the day you got the assignment. They were desperate to get something on the family, in response, this job was created.

You can visualize that first meeting like it was yesterday. You sat in your boss's office and stared down at the file, then the blank look on his face. You were pushing for a challenge since being sent down here. Desk duty, answering phones, and listening to audio recordings weren't really what you signed up for. But you assumed, rightfully so, that being a woman was the very reason they gave you a 'safe' job.

The first day you heard about the undercover gig, they intended it to go to one of the guys. You made a comment about how much harder it would be for a guy to gain their trust, next thing you knew, you were sitting in that intimidating office.

Though the job sounded impossible and you weren't sure if you could do it, you said yes. You said yes to test yourself, to test your long list of skills developed over the years, and you said yes as a big fuck you to the men who snickered upon hearing you were taking the job. Not the pretty girl who organized their files, surly, you couldn't handle such a thing.

Feeling emboldened, you took the job while swallowing the massive lump in your throat and pushing your fears deep down inside. Back in the states, you’ve done plenty of undercover jobs, you could do this - just, none held as much danger and risk as this one.

…

In preparation, you made an extensive list of ways to get near the family. After going through each option for what felt like 100 times, you settled on Roxanne.

It wasn’t aggressive, like showing up out of nowhere in their lives, and plenty of people needed a job. Besides, you knew the brothers, except very loyal and very married Benjamin, had a thing for pretty faces. So getting a job as a bartender or cocktail waitress would be easy.

It helped that your 4 months in Mexico so far were extremely low-key. If you weren't at that godforsaken desk, you were at home, in the very bland apartment the embassy provided for you.

Your social life was pretty much non-existent, so you could be anyone, it gave you a blank slate to work with. They even provided another apartment in a different part of town for you to use, everything now under your new identity. Once the paper trail of this new you was created, you went in for an interview.

The interview went well, but inside you were nervous as hell. They had a hiring manager, but it seemed like a front anyway. You knew the final word had to go through the family.

Seeing how busy they were, they couldn't be on hand to handle things like this. But the hiring manager seemed to like you enough, and he wasn't exactly hiding his flirting. He was very impressed with the fact you spoke 3 languages fluidly.

You knew, the moment you walked out of here, you would be investigated through and through, and you hoped the team who created identities didn't make any errors.

You don’t know if it was good luck or bad, but during the end of your interview, as you left the office, Ramon and his crew rolled in early, just before the club would open for business. Catching each other eyes, you keep your composure as you stroll past him and flash a small smile.

Ramón smiles back. You break eye contact and head for the door. Time slows down. Feeling his eyes burning into you, you glance over your shoulder and see he’s still watching you.

Even with everything you know about him, his smile is almost childlike. Big, bright, beaming. It was hard to believe such a chaotic violent man had such a smile. You feel your heart thump in your chest as your body temperature rises.

Regaining your composure, you grab the handle of the door and walk out. The moment the door closes behind you, you realize you were holding your breath. Taking a deep exhale, you touch your stomach and try to ground yourself.

Holy shit.

You just saw Ramón , the Ramón Arellano Félix up close and he was - gorgeous? No, no you can’t think such things. You had a job to do and no matter how devilishly attractive he is, you cannot, will not get distracted.

As you walk away from the club, past the forming line, you feel ashamed. You did notice how cute he was before. Yeah, you shouldn’t but you did. Still, the many photographs you’ve looked at over the months didn’t compare to seeing him in the flesh.

As you walked by him, taking in the tall drink of water he is, you also imagined yourself running your fingers through those luscious waves. He was cute before, but the longer hair - there was just something about it.

By the time you reach the end of the block, someone runs up behind you. You notice it’s the hiring manager and he’s out of breath. When you turned to fully face him, he asks how soon you can start working, and if tonight was an option.

I’m in. You could barely believe your luck, or, lack thereof…it was too soon to tell. You nod, smile, and reply, “I could start tonight.”

The manager escorts you back into the building and shows you the rooms where the staff put their things, he also shows you the uniforms. It was a simple outfit, black, short, and cute.

After you get changed, the manager pairs you with a more seasoned bottle girl on the main floor, someone to show you the ins and outs of working in Roxanne.

You had some experience in your younger years, serving was a side job as you got through college. This kind of thing was like a muscle, you never really forgot how to do it. So you weren't too worried about fucking up.

As expected, though the place is busier than any other place you've ever worked, you start to get the hang of it. You were aware getting intel wasn’t going to happen right away, but as one week turns to two, you observe the family when you can. Working the first floor meant you weren't close enough to hear any of their conversations, so you knew, you had to get the second-floor gig.

As the days pass by, you notice Ramón watching you from the balcony. He was always looking, always watching, but yet he didn’t approach or speak to you. Being under his gaze made your skin hot, your cheeks warm, it awakened parts of you that needed to remain silent to do your job properly. You were here to watch the family, and Ramón was watching you.

As you meet your one month mark, you work on your first report for headquarters, you saw a lot working that floor, even if it wasn't directly tied to the family with concrete evidence, yet. The people who came in, their associates, who they gave VIP treatment, all it was important, even if it couldn't be used yet.

You focused your report on these elements and then turn it in. One month down meant you had 5 months left to get the real dirt. 5 months could either be a long time, or a short time, it depends on many factors.

When you arrive for your shift, on the first Friday of a new month, you receive news that you’ve been promoted. You would solely work bottle service for VIPs. Upon hearing the news, you play it cool and chill, but inside you were freaking out.

If you could do this and succeed there would be no more shitty desk jobs. And finally, those assholes in the office would take you seriously. You could make a real name for yourself - if this goes right.

That first night your adrenaline pumps so intensily through your body that it feels like you’re vibrating. You’ve seen the woman they paired you with plenty of times, she was one of the main girls up here. You follow her lead, smile, and do your job.

For the first few hours of this shift, some of the family are seated at their VIP, just behind the Roxanne sign, but Ramón is nowhere in sight. When you finally do serve their table, it takes everything in you to stay cool.

It was so much easier with the others. Sure, they were important people but being this close to the Arellano Felix family was jarring. Even, exciting, if you let yourself admit it.

Going from shoveling papers around while men in the office ogle your figure and call you sweetheart to serving drinks to the most powerful drug cartel family in Mexico? Talk about extremes. Danger could be encountered anywhere, hell, just crossing the street or leaving your front door. But, this puts you on the doorstep of real danger.

As you drop off a bottle of champagne at a neighboring table, you can hear a rowdy group coming up the stairs. You know from the sounds alone, it's Ramón and the Narcos Juniors. Casually glancing over your shoulder, you watch as they walk by. There’s a girl on Ramón’s arm, which is not surprising, but the moment he notices you, he loosens his grip around her waist, his eyes locking on your own.

Does the hot-heated and very dangerous Ramón have a thing for you? You were pretty convinced at this point. What confused you was his lack of contact. He seemed like an overly confident guy and watching the way he was with other women, it seemed more normal he would have hit on you on the spot, that first day. It was surprising, how could a guy like this be coy?

You were honestly torn about Ramón's interest in you. On one hand, it was flattering. On another, you knew enough about the man to know he was dangerous, like a walking hazard sign.

Your investigation could really hit a peak if you got close to him, but at the same time, it's like laying across train tracks, you’d willingly be putting yourself in a level of danger were not interesting in being in. Maybe, he should admire you from afar, you decide, it would be safer.

As the night goes on, you go about your business and focus on your job, while never really escaping the heat of his gaze. When you stopped at their table to bring a fresh batch of drinks, his brown eyes watch your every movement.

You’ve never felt as seen, as studied as you do under his gaze. When you look up at him from under your lashes, he flashes that heart-warming smile and you almost, almost make your first mistake of the night. You nearly drop the empty beer bottle in your hand, you add it to the tray of empty bottles.

The little slip-up gains a chuckle from him. You feel your face grow hot as embarrassment rushes you. Ramón digs in his pocket, pulls out a wad of cash, and drop two 100 bills on your tray.

“Thank you,” you smile at him and back away from the table, your eyes locked on his. Before you turn away, the sound of your name on his lips captures your attention. Balancing the tray, you turn back and meet his waiting gaze.

“Have a drink with us later.”

You can barely believe your hearing. Did he just invite you to his table?

“You know what,” Ramón stands up and motions for the other server to come over, “your shift ends now.” He points at the tray, the other girl makes eye contact with you, then takes it.

Ramón wasn’t known for his patience. He was a make-it-happen yesterday kind of guy.

“Oh, okay “ you grab your huge tip from the tray and shove it in your bra. Much to his pleasure, as Ramón watches with a grin. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you keep them at your sides.

Ramón tells the girl next to him to get up. She shoots you a death stare and leaves the spot next to him. Ramon sits back down and pats the cushion with his hand. "Come, sit with me.”

The handsome criminal continues to grin at you as you sit next to him. The space provided is small, your thigh touches his as you sit. You admired his outfit from afar, but this close, you can really see the details in the nice gold and white top, the first buttons open, teasing his chest and his fitted black pants leave little to the imagination. Everything about this outfit, including the shoes, screams rich. He even smells good, really good.

Ramón sits with his hands in his lap, a stark contrast to the relaxed arm he had around the other girl. Was Ramón still acting shy?

He motions to the table. "Anything you want, it’s yours.”

He’s cute, really cute like this. With you, his cockiness seems to be gone, like a shy boy with a crush. You smile at him and look over the drinks you just delivered to them.

In the middle of the table is a bottle of champagne with a price tag that makes you do a triple take. You weren't really a champagne person, but shit, you had to taste it. You had to know why it cost that much.

Almost as if he can read your mind, Ramón leans over and pours you a glass. As he hands it to you, your fingers touch. The brief contact earns another smile from him, and your heart skips a beat.

Oh fuck. You were in trouble.

More soon 💕

Tags? Just ask. I’ll tag ya.

Pt about 60% done. If you want a tag let me know. It will be out either later today or tomorrow.

#Ramon narcos #narcos mexico #narcos Mexico fic #your content consumption is your responsibility not mine #read warnings #stay away if any of this bothers or upsets you #ramon arellano felix #not the real guy #just the show actor #fic: flirting with danger #narcos mexico fanfiction

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