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#southern momma
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Got baby girl down for a nap😴😮‍💨now I'm sleepy, gonna try and stay awake tho so hopefully, I sleep better tonight but we'll see. Might spam post just to stay awake. Sorry in advance 😅
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intercoursefluids · 2 years
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bout to pull of some mission impossible shit to get the ranch dressing from my moms room (she has a fridge in there and I *will* have to resist the temptation of stealing one of my niece's string cheese sticks while I am there)
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posioninthewater · 7 months
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adhdslugcrimes · 3 months
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Wally: I hate being an adult mom.
Iris: yep, I told you baby.
Wally: you remember when you told me you brought me into this world you can take me out?
Wally: take me out.
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deityofhearts · 2 months
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I am once again asking a question from within my own bubble of experiences, Please Be Nice To Me did y’all eat roast cooked in coca cola growing up?
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diver5ion · 1 year
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mariatesstruther · 9 months
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okay i am thinking about maria and tommy’s baby growing up with a lil half-texan accent and picking up the miller family affinity for using the pet name “baby”
they get into that adorable “hi!” phase where children cant help but greet and wave to everyone they see, but instead of saying “hi!” or “hello!,” baby miller greets everyone with a heavily-accented little “hey baby!!!!!” because that’s the most common greeting in the miller family household. maria and tommy call each other baby/babe and joel calls ellie baby/babygirl, so baby miller is growing up constantly hearing variations of “hey babygirl,” “hi baby,” “how was your day, babe?,” “take a load off, baby, sit down,” and basically every other casual use of baby ever
its so common and expected between all the millers that toddler-aged baby miller just reasonably concludes one day that that is how people say hello and show love to each other. ellie is piggybacking them over to breakfast one day and they just starts waving to jackson residents they pass by, calling out an amazing lil accented “hi, baby!” in the most adorable genuine joy ever. ellie doesnt correct them bc she thinks its hilarious and cute; in solidarity, she starts to join in. by the time they get to the mess hall, jackson’s residents are smiling back and waving to them, some calling back “hey, baby!” too.
by the time the adult millers get wind of it, the damage has already been done. they each get to the mess hall from whatever work they’re doing and are greeting with enthusiastic “hey, baby!”s not just from baby miller, but from ellie and all the other people in their general vicinity. it’s jackson’s favorite town-wide inside joke for weeks
baby miller does eventually get the explanation that “baby” is more of a miller/family thing than an everybody thing, but they still use it pretty often growing up because it’s a comfortable affection thing for them and also now a pretty hard habit to break (thank you, ellie)
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angelic-charlie-kelly · 11 months
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one thing about me is I love southern belles, Dolly Parton, Farrah Fawcett, Glenn Howerton. This is a southern woman’s world and we’re just living in it
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Round-abouts are the worst creations in road construction.
For the love of God, PUT IN A FREAKIN LIGHT INSTEAD!!!!!!!
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bluesucanuse · 2 years
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BLUES: SONG OF THE DAY
THE ARTIST IS: SWEETKISS MOMMA
THE SONG IS: "BREATHE REBEL"
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dadrockconfessions · 2 years
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abyssurvived · 2 months
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watching sharp objects again and that scene when james ( the kid behind the screen window ) shows camille his pistol and camille immediately confronts his mom... ivycore.
ivy knowing that being poor doesn't make people bad parents, so she won't flash her badge and threaten the struggling mom at walmart, but she will add a few extra items to her cart and hand the mom the bagged groceries before she can protest.
knows that abuse isn't clear cut as ppl expect, so she'll swallow her pride and force herself to wait before donning someone a bad parent; will force that southern charm and winning smile to get the true pictures, to get the real story.
all of that goes out the window the moment she sees kids with guns ( and no parental supervision ); remembers the sticky summers before their grandpa moved in with them, when it'd just be marilyn-ann and ivy left to defend themselves with nothing but their dad's rifle and the knowledge of how to shoot a static can.
remembers how ivy nearly deafened herself dropping it and setting it off, how a couple years later ivy nearly ended up in a grave because marilyn-ann got spooked by a deer out back.
ivy has a rule to try her best to not sit in on the court rulings for the cases she's involved in, but she'll always sit in on the ones where there's neglect / abuse, or the kid's got history of having access to guns--- partially because she tells herself it helps comfort the kids, to see someone familiar who helped put their tormentor behind bars, but mostly because it serves as a reminder; her parents got scotch free with the shit the put their daughters through, but not everyone does.
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dykemind · 2 months
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every day i'm making typos
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deputy-buck · 1 year
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Havin little flyin squirrels as pets is like havin overly athletic hamsters with tails and attachment issues...
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coryosbaby · 5 months
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— ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀɴ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ, ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ !
cowboy! Coriolanus snow x fem! Reader
synopsis: you meet a handsome, mysterious cowboy at a carnival.
content warning . western au, dumb choices, handjobs, cunnilingus, age gap if u squint ig
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When you first lock eyes with him, it’s at a county fair.
How cliché it is, but in a small southern town of Kentucky it’s not that uncommon to meet your lover at such an event. Everyone from your town knows each other, knows every name, face, and house. It’s a wonder that anyone has any privacy at all.
But the man you’re looking at, you’ve never seen him around these parts before. His brown curls are hidden— you know he has brown curls because of the way the brunette locks peek out from underneath his cowboy hat. He’s wearing a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, suspenders, and the usual pants you see on every other man. But he wears all of this so exceptionally well that you can’t take your eyes off of him.
And he’s looking at you.
You shiver as you watch him watch you. Your momma stands beside you and gossips with her church going friends, and you hope she doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving this perfect stranger. She’d pound your hide for sure. You smooth down your dress, your eyes wondering to the man’s muscle-ey arms. He must be very fit underneath that outfit.
He moves, walking towards a ring toss game and winks at you. Heat creeps down from your fingers to your toes, your bloomers become drenched with arousal. You want to talk to him— of course you do. Who wouldn’t? Your momma is busy, anyway, so what harm could it really do? You say goodbye to her and tell her you’re going to go play a few games. You’re not exactly lying about that. Your heel clad feet make their way across the dirt as you subtly take your place beside the man. He smells like soap and cigars, and you’re thankful that he isn’t like the smelly men that plague your location. He turns to look at you, a smile playing on his lips.
“Do you wanna play?”
His voice has a soft southern drawl, not as vibrant as yours but still there. He must be from somewhere more up north.
“I’m not that good at these games,” you sheepishly reply. “But I’d like to watch you, sir, if that’s okay.”
“Sir, huh?” He seems amused, and his big hands toss a ring that lands around an old milk bottle. “I’m not that old, y’know.”
You nervously fumble on the balls of your feet.
“I jus’ turned twenty.”
He looks at you again, taking in the sight of your lipstick smeared lips.
“Thought you’d be younger,” he teases, and you smirk.
“Is that a problem?”
“Not for me,” he laughs, throwing another ring and once again, landing it onto the milk bottle. You wonder what else his hands can do besides play carnival games. “I’m twenty five, sweet thing.”
A slight age gap, but nothing you can’t handle. He tosses the last ring towards the bottles, and it lands again. The man who’s monitoring the tent lets out a loud whistle.
“First winner of the night,” he says. “Which stuffed animal d’ya want?”
At the mention of the wall of prizes, your eyes dart to all of them. They land on a brown bear with a pink bow wrapped up around its neck, and you frown when you realize that you weren’t the one to win the game.
But to your surprise, the man beside you smiles with his shiny white teeth and points at the bear.
“That one, right there, for this pretty lady.”
Excitement floods through you as the man grabs the bear from the shelf. He hands it to you and you squeal, hugging the bear to your chest.
“Thank you, sir!”
You’re talking to the one beside you, not the vendor, and he chuckles.
"Coriolanus,” he says, and it rolls off of his tongue like honey. “My name is Coriolanus Snow.”
You smile at him as you reveal your name. His hands are cold against your skin when they brush against your shoulder.
“Well, [y/n],” he starts. “Do you wanna get out of here for a little bit?”
It’s against your better judgement to go off from your family for the comfort of a stranger. But this man— Coriolanus— he’s different. Your undergarments are soaked, too, you know they are.
“My momma told me I shouldn’t be alone with strangers,” you chastise. “Promise not to hurt me, Mr. Coriolanus?”
He leans in close to you, something dark drawling in his voice.
“I’ll do my best to take care of you.”
You didn’t tell your family where you went. They were probably going to be occupied for the rest of the night, anyway. Your feet pad against the ground as Coriolanus leads you out to his pickup truck. It’s a bit rusty, but it’s a lot better than the vehicles you’re used to. He opens the door for you— a gentleman— and you climb into the passengers seat with little struggle. You lean back in the seat and place the stuffed bear in between the both of you as Coriolanus takes his place beside you. The ride to this mysterious destination is shorter than you expect. He turns into the woods— a little creepy, but you have a switchblade in your corset so it’s fine. When you arrive in front of an opening in front of a lake, your eyes light up.
“You can swim, right?” Coriolanus asks you.
“Of course.” You reply, opening the car door. You skip over to the edge of the water, dipping your hand in to get a feel of the temperature. It’s a bit cold, but nothing you can’t handle. You’re so distracted by the scenery that you hardly notice the sound of Coriolanus’ belt buckle until you turn around. He’s unzips his fly and begins to unbutton your shirt. A humored smile spreads across your lips.
“Skinny dipping? Really?”
“Don’t do it if you don’t want to,” he shrugs, pulling his pants down past his thighs. “Unless you’re a coward.”
You gasp, lifting yourself back up and putting your hands on your hips.
“I am not a coward, Coriolanus Snow. I’m just a lady.”
“A lady who snuck off from her momma to be with a boy she barely knows?”
He has a point with that, and you let out a frustrated noise. You try not to blush as he slips his shirt off, left in nothing but his underwear. He takes his hat off, too, and his hair is just as perfect as you imagined. You finally give in, beginning to unbotton the top of your dress.
“You’ll have to help with my corset, I hope you know. This thing is such a hassle to unlace.”
“I’d be happy to.”
He seems smug when you pull your dress over your head, your bloomers and corset being revealed to him. You pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail and turn around so he can undo the laces on your corset, and his fingers strategically remove the strings in a matter of a few minutes.
“Seems like you’ve done this a lot, Coriolanus.”
He hums. “I guess you could say that I don’t lack experience.”
You scoff, turning around and sliding the corset off of your shoulders. Coriolanus gapes at your now bare chest, your hardened nipples on full display and your chest full and inviting.
“Neither do I.”
You move towards the water, and like a puppy dog Coriolanus trails in after you. The water goes up to your chest by the time you’re done moving, and Coriolanus pulls your half nude body close to him. You giggle, feeling like a giddy child, feeling free. He presses a kiss to your neck, then another, and another. It’s like you’ve known him your whole life. His lips brush over yours, not quite touching but just enough to give you the impression of his desire.
“Can I?” He asks, sweet and gentle. You nod, your head spinning, and his mouth molds to yours perfectly. His hands wrap tightly around your waist to hold you to him, and your arms come up to grasp the locks of his hair. He breathes heavy, pushing his hips against you, and you laugh against his lips when you feel his hardness press against you.
“You’re a filthy man, Coriolanus snow.”
He rolls his eyes, his palm coming down to rub over your breast. You gasp against his mouth, your mound pressing against his bulge, and he chuckles.
“Me?” He chastises.
“Mmm..”
Your hand reaches down, not shy to a man’s body as you move past his waistband. Your hand grips his cock, your tongue coming out to lick your lips when you feel how thick he is.
“Big boy, aren’t you?” You say with a throaty breath. He groans, his face burying itself in your neck as you begin to stroke him.
Your hands are like magic, your skill magnified tenthfold because it’s been a while since Coriolanus has been touched by a woman’s hands. His hips buck against you, precum dripping out of his swollen cockhead, and when your thumb brushes over the underside of his cock he lets out a deep, gravelly moan.
“You’re so good at this,” he breathes out, his grip on your waist the only thing keeping him up. “So good, darlin’, Fuck.”
You whine against him, his praise making your knees buckle. The water around you is still cold but it’s warming now because of your adjustment and your shared body heat. You can feel a few rocks poke at the bottom of your feet, but you can’t think about that right now. Coriolanus’ pleasure is like your own, and with the way he’s feeling… you don’t know how you’re still standing.
You reach past his cock for a moment to feel up his balls, soft in your palm, and the sound he makes is so guttural it’s almost as if you have killed him. His cock kicks, you can feel it and hear the water below you splash as your hand moves faster and gets him closer. He keeps spilling precious moans from his mouth, and you think you could spend everyday with him like this, even though you’ve only known him for a few hours.
“Gonna cum…” he whimpers out, his legs shaking. “Gonna cum all over your hand, baby.”
And you’re perfectly fine with that. You bite down on his earlobe, letting out a tiny giggle.
“Cum for me, Coriolanus. Cum.”
It’s an automatic command that has the boy thrusting one final time against you before he spills inside his underwear. Thick ropes of cum squirt against your hand, sticky and hot. You let him ride out his high before you press a wet kiss to his neck. He sighs against you, and he knows his body would be nearly limp if he wasn’t so fit. After that sigh he lets out a laugh, serotonin flooding his brain as you pull your hand out of his underwear. You smile at him.
“How was that?” You ask him. He tilts his head, biting teasingly against your cheek.
“So amazing that I need you up on that shoreline, darlin’. I needa touch you, too.”
You bite your lip, nervous as you reply.
“You don’t gotta do that. I know some men don’t like to.”
Coriolanus’ brows furrow, a look of disgust crossing his features.
“No man hates eating pussy. What kind of boys have you been hangin’ around?”
You stutter, trying to come up with a response but Coriolanus just shushes you and guides you back to the shoreline with his hands. His back muscles ripple as you watch him from behind, and you wonder what a wanderer is doing with muscles like that.
When you both get back to shore he tells you to stand and wait. He comes back soon with a blanket in his hands and spreads it out on the shore. You lay down on it, trying to calm your beating heart. Coriolanus takes a spot in front of you, sitting on his knees in between your legs. He smiles at you, his thumbs moving to the waistband of your bloomers. You nod to him, and with callused hands he pulls them down past your ankles. He throws them in the sand, the smell of your pussy hitting his nostrils and making him groan. His nose scrapes against your inner thighs, his hands holding your legs open as he begins to mouth closer and closer to your pussy.
“Coryo,” you whine, the nickname making his cock twitch. “Please? Y-You don’t have to, but I.. I really, really want you to.”
“Want me to do what, honey?” He says, his mouth hovering over your dripping slit. “Eat this pretty little pussy? Is that what you want?”
You cry out, nodding your head, begging for it now, and finally Coriolanus licks a long, wet stripe up your juicy cunt with his tongue. His eyes roll back at the taste of you, and he dives into your pussy like a man starved. His tongue moves up and down before probing your hole, slipping just the tip in as his nose rubs against your clit. You desperately hump against his face, riding his strong nose and squeezing around his wet tongue. You’ve never been eaten out before, never in your life. Not even with the handful of men you’ve lain with— none have ever wanted to do this or try to. You’re practically in heaven right now.
“Nghhh..” you moan, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. You jump when his finger brushes up against your entrance, slipping it inside next to his tongue and scissoring, and fuck, you never knew this could be so good. Your legs try to close around Coriolanus’ head but he grabs one of them with his free hand and pushes it down. Your legs hitch up, a sob spilling from your throat, and the man below you can’t stop humming and making precious sounds. Slurping noises echo throughout the empty, wooded area, and you can’t help but fantasize about being caught. How hot it would be, someone walking in on this, on this hot cowboy devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal, your fingers gripping his curls like your life depends on it as he drives you closer and closer to the edge like no other man has.
Coriolanus slips another finger inside you, removing his tongue from inside you and making his way up to your puffy clit. He captures it in between his teeth, suckling with everything he has, and without warning your body is seizing up and you’re cumming, a sob escaping you, your hands yanking on his hair, your legs shaking. Coriolanus drinks up your spend, his chin dripping with your release as he pulls away and wipes his mouth on his wrist. You look down at him, and a grin spreads wide on his face. You grin back at him, the post orgasm clarity overtaking you as gets up and digs in his pants pocket. He lays down beside you, taking out a cigar and a match as he lights it up. He takes a long drag and a silence overtakes the lakeside, the only sound the light summer breeze and the crickets in the woods. You turn on your side, the moonlight reflecting off of Coriolanus’ jawline. He turns to look at you too, passing the cigar off to you. You take it, trying not to cough or embarrass yourself because this is your first time ever touching one of these things. When you clumsily inhale and exhale, you give it back to him with curiosity on your face.
“What’s a man like you doin’ around here anyway?” You ask him. “You some kind of outlaw?”
He chuckles, his fingertips grazing your thigh as he looks up at the full moon in the sky.
“If I was, would you tell on me?”
He knows you wouldn’t, but he teases you anyway. You shake your head.
“I wouldn’t. It ain’t my business.”
He sighs.
“Maybe I am. And I think that’s why I need to tell you to stay away from me from now on.” He explains. His finger grips your wrist, tickling you. “I’m bad news, sweetheart.”
“I can handle it, cowboy.”
He rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans back again and closes them. He changes the subject.
“Do you need me to take you home?”
You shrug, grabbing the cigar from him.
“It can wait a few more hours. My momma’s gonna be livid when she sees me.”
And it’s true. Because when Coriolanus drops you off in his pick up truck with a promise to see you again (after your persuading), you show up at your front door barefoot, the teddy bear in your hands, and without a corset— Coriolanus had taken it from you as a souvenir, and he said he didn’t intend to give it back. In return, you had taken his hat and perched it on your head as a reminder of his touch. You give him a small thumbs up when you watch him get the hell out of dodge.
Your momma is furious when she opens that door, but you don’t regret this night one bit.
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stupid-for-simping · 2 years
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I think I know why
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