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theknightofivanhoe · 10 months

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Caress - A Barrisoka Story part 1

Inappropriate Circumstances

Happy Pride to the Barrisoka camp! Hope you like this naughty little chapter where Barriss gets pretty horny over Ahsoka's body. Credit goes to KjaraGrissaecrim for a little inspiration from Barriss' Lone Mirialan character design he did for Barriss.

Ahsoka's outfit is inspired by some pinups by comic artist Scott Dalrymple. Stay tuned for more dirty Barriss x Ahsoka chapters and happy Pride. Ahsoka and Barriss belong to Disney and Lucasfilm. No copyright intended.

Barriss felt her cheeks burn, light pangs going through her stomach, but she stood where she was keeping her vacant eyes on a blue-glowing holo-map of the landscape of the planet Kiros that Ahsoka and the golden-skinned Togruta governor Roshti were examining. Ever a diligent student in the Jedi Code, Barriss had always kept her focus on the matter at hand, never to let any trifling thoughts or temptations distract her.

Of course, now without an all-powerful Jedi Order’s rules to rigidly obey, or a master to supervise and remind her to clear her mind, Barriss was living a life where each passing day only felt like a small victory in a seemingly endless cycle of survival. It had taken the strong-willed, beautiful, rebellious Ahsoka herself for Barriss to understand that life did not have to revolve around inflexible self-deprivation and parchment-thin dogma, nor sowing chaos under the sway of the same dark force that now held the universe in the palm of its hand.

Right now, something very specific was seriously disrupting Barriss’ focus on this strategy being discussed by Ahsoka and Governor Roshti. Ahsoka, leaning over the holo-map with a hand propped casually on her hip, was still wearing that Force-cursed leotard! Dark red fabric stretched over her smooth, plump orange buttocks that just barely stayed contained within. They simply taunted Barriss who couldn’t even catch up with what was being said by the two Togruta who were laying down plans against future attacks by Zygerrian slavers for instance.

Why, of all the garments made possible in this universe, did Ahsoka have to go for a leotard? Barriss had certainly made her stance as an outlaw independent of any galactic power pretty clear by dispensing with modesty, showing off her own thighs with the loincloth-like leather strips she had paired with her improvised armour. Yet it just confounded her how Ahsoka simply strutted around in what resembled a red swimsuit, fabric being the only shield for her nether-regions, and yet she exuded such confidence, sometimes bordering on cockiness. Pair that skimpy clothing with tall boots, gloves and a belt from which her new lightsabres hung from, and even a glance at Ahsoka ignited such warmth through Barriss, a certain thrill rushing through parts of her own body. But seeing the nearly-naked Ahsoka in battle, leaping, whirling and cutting down her opponents with her white-bladed sabres, sent Barriss’ heart thrumming louder than even the most colossal hyperdrive. What made it all the more wondrous was fighting alongside her Togruta lover, their Force-enhanced wardance hardened by the lessons of the past and one at the other’s back, their love being their strongest weapon imaginable.

“ - here, and here, right Barriss?” The torturously exhilarating thoughts in Barriss’ mind screeched to a halt at Ahsoka pronouncing her name, she and Governor Roshti turning to the Mirialan. Barriss felt as though she had clone trooper blasters trained on her, ready to zap her to death at a moment’s notice. Reminding herself she had only been distracted in the middle of a secret meeting, she looked back at Ahsoka and the elder governor who waited for her reply. “I…” Barriss piped up, the two Togruta staring at her. Surely she had been in earshot. “Of course. Yes, yes, of course.” she awkwardly agreed with…whatever Ahsoka had been saying. Ahsoka and Governor Roshti were slightly nonplussed at how Barriss acted like a kybuck in headlights. “Barriss…?” Ahsoka started to grow a little concerned. “Are you alright, my love?” “Ah - absolutely. Yes, I’m absolutely…I’m fine. Thanks.” Barriss insisted, her azure eyes maintaining as much innocence as she could muster. “I just…What was that last part again?” “I was just saying, the Zygerrians could try and advance on the village from the cover of the trees…” Ahsoka replied, pointing down at a part of the holomap where a pathway through thick woodland west of Roshti’s village grew narrower where the gates were, “so we can post some scouts in the treetops to ambush them from above.” “Even if any of them reached the village, the element of surprise will no longer be theirs.” the wise Governor Roshti put in. Ahsoka leaned one hand against the holo-map table, planting a fist on her hip ever-so-casually and asked, “Any ideas on what kinds of booby traps you could set?” While she and the governor returned their attention to the strategy, Barriss scrunched her eyes shut at what Ahsoka had just said. The word ‘booby’ made her breathing grow heavy as her brain replayed images, images of that gap in the chest of Ahsoka’s leotard. ‘Ugh, please no, get it together…’ Barriss pleaded with herself mentally. But nothing could keep the very image of orange Togruta breasts rising and falling with every steady breath Ahsoka took from invading her brain.

Stars, this wasn’t fair! From her cheeks down to her hands, Barriss felt as hot as the very air of Felucia. How could Ahsoka be so in control, so cool-headed and wear so little? The pleasure was going to send Barriss into a frenzy. As the two Togruta elaborated on ideas of village defences, Barriss thought back to the amount of times she and Ahsoka spent with each other, free to simply indulge each other in all the love and passion that had been expressly forbidden by the strictures of an Order now outlawed across the length and breadth of the galaxy.

‘Come on, Barriss, you know you like to see me in less clothes…’ Ahsoka had teased her lover once when presenting herself to her in the new leotard back then, clearly relishing showing her body off to her. She always did this on purpose! But if there were no Jedi around to discipline them, what could possibly keep Barriss from getting a little payback? Mischief twinkled in her eyes as she edged behind Ahsoka and slowly, indolently reached downwards...

“And we can set up some nets over…h -” Ahsoka, pointing at a clearing in the holomap of the woodland, froze up in an instant. Her words caught in her throat at something she was feeling. Heartbeat rising, cheeks heating up, air being sucked out of her lungs, she fell silent and her focused expression turned blank with paralysis. Governor Roshti noticed this and looked at her quizzically. “Ahsoka?” he asked, wondering if something was amiss. Still as a statue and staring past him, Ahsoka could feel fingers, and she knew whose they were, gently and affectionately caressing her leotard-clad bottom, the tips stroking her plump cheeks, teasingly tracing along the cleft where the red material was tightest. Electricity seemed to lance through Ahsoka’s body, the touch making her very nearly squeak at how ticklish it was.

In a split second, the fingers withdrew and Ahsoka just stood there, heat spreading from her face to her montrals, her heart still thumping relentlessly. But there was also pleasure in the sensation. Apart from the very inappropriate circumstances, discussing tactics with the governor, part of Ahsoka seemed to actually enjoy what she had just felt. Snapping out of her stupor, she shook her head and faced Roshti again. “Ahsoka, are you all right?” Roshti was asking, concern growing on his ageing face. “Oh, no, yes, ah, yes, governor. I - uh, I’m absolutely…absolutely…” Ahsoka was a mess, scrambling for words that would diffuse the situation. “Oh, I…just thought I…sensed something. False alarm, that’s all…” Roshti tilted his head at her stammering and obvious loss of composure. “I was just - just saying, if we set up some nets there - where the slavers might advance on the village…” As she instantly returned the conversation to the strategy, Ahsoka found herself wrestling with thoughts in her head. That touch still lingered on her bottom, the sensual rush threatening to break through her usually cool, collected demeanour. Behind her, Barriss turned her head aside and raised a hand over her lips, fighting down a giggle.

After the meeting, Ahsoka and Barriss were walking through the tranquil village back to the sleek, repurposed Z-95 Headhunter starfighter parked in a nearby clearing. Once they were out of the village and on the woodland path, Ahsoka immediately cut around Barriss and blocked her way with both hands on her hips. Though she stopped in her tracks, Barriss couldn’t help but notice the effort Ahsoka was making to glare at her, a smirk threatening to crack through her rather unconvincing mask of seriousness.

“Okay, Barriss, what was that?” Ahsoka demanded. Seeing right through the Togruta’s attempt at a scolding tone, Barriss just decided to play along and put a finger to her chin. “I have no idea what you mean…” she smirked back in jest. “There’s always a time and place for intimate gestures,” Ahsoka told her, her hips slanting in that way that always sent Barriss’ loins stirring, “but in front of the governor, in public?” “Let’s just say it's your outfit that does things for me.” Barriss feigned innocence, allowing her eyes to wander to Ahsoka’s naked thighs, thighs she could never get enough of stroking when they were alone. “Would it kill you to control yourself for a few minutes?” Ahsoka asked, throwing up a hand. “It’s like you said…” Barriss shot back with a slightly raised eyebrow, remembering how Ahsoka had teased her when first squeezing her lean, wonderful body into that tight leotard. “Perhaps I do like seeing you in less clothes.” Ahsoka could only blush faintly, trying to stifle a giggle. “What happened to Madam primp-and-proper Jedi Barriss then?” she mock-questioned. Barriss just smiled rather slyly, then let a hand wander up one of her thighs that was bared by the leather straps hanging in between. “It just so happens a certain Togruta has become a bad influence on her…” she replied, her ever-polite tone sounding strangely sultry. Ahsoka just stared at her beautiful Mirialan lover whose loose, shoulder-length locks served to frame her face to the point of heart-stoppingly angelic. The Togruta found it hard to argue with that point, seeing as how she had shown Barriss what the truest of love could do against all the horrors from Palpatine’s war and now his Sith empire. Both of them had since then dispensed with modesty, showing off their legs with their new outfits now that vows of purity had all but disappeared along with the Jedi Order.

“What kind of monster have I created?” Ahsoka grinned in amusement, before she found Barriss edging towards her still smirking like a minx. “One who has loved you the moment you saved me from the Geonosian worms and from myself?” the Mirialan reminded her. Ahsoka’s blue eyes dilated and her smile grew tender in reciprocation of such love. “Well just between you and me, Barriss…” she replied with a light tilt of the head, letting Barriss close her body’s distance with hers, “We’re proof that love can make this galaxy a better place,” Her gloved hands slid up her lover’s sides in that way that made Barriss shiver contentedly. “And with the Force as our guide…” the Mirialan finished, leaning in and kissing Ahsoka in the privacy of the forest. They tasted one another as though their lips were slices of nuna meat eaten off the bone, making small grunts and pressing their own bodies together, their closeness palpable and precious in a galaxy that had cost people so much in the past.

When they parted from their happy kiss, Ahsoka smirked at Barriss who lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t think I’ll forget your frisky little habits…” Ahsoka half-warned her, her hands rested on the other young woman’s hips. “I ‘suppose’ there’s a time and place for it…” Barriss smiled back teasingly. “Oh, no…” Ahsoka grinned even wider at what she was implying, her bottom tingling from being touched earlier. “There’s going to be no stopping you, is there…?”

The two ex-padawans started up their Headhunter fighter, took to the skies and flew off Kiros back to the planet they now lived on.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #Ahsoka #Ahsoka Tano #barriss offee #barrisoka #lgbtq #lgbt #Clone Wars #fanfiction #fanfic #lesbian

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cookingwithroxy · 2 years

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The Goth

Nina did not ask to wake up in an artificial body, forever robbed of her humanity. Designed to be absolutely perfect eye candy. But if anyone HAD asked, she would have said, "FUCK YES!"

She'd have objected to it if she'd known the details, the kind of person the man who abducted her was. But she didn't, and it wasn't as if she was granted a choice. Instead she was granted cybernetic immortality, a body that lived up to the dreams she'd long had but never expected to live out, and absolutely no connection remaining to her past. Who would blame her for abandoning everything she'd had and taking advantage of her new start, her new life?

Okay, so there are SOME downsides. She can't access most of the equipment of the Lab she woke up in, she has to make sure the systems don't revive the mad bastard who made the body she now has, and has to figure out how to carve a space for herself in a world that never expected to have her in it. No name, no identity...

But she's got all the lab's resources, the scientists' finances, and the body she'd always dreamed of. One most men (and a few women) would lust after. She can dress how she's always wanted. Live how she's always wanted. No regrets.

Yeah, she's going to be the goth slut she'd always wanted to be.

Maybe she'll even become a hero.

--- The Origin of her Body

One part perfect Sexbot, one part advanced cyborg. Really, explaining the body of Nina is the easy part. You know the kinds of stories you occasionally see in anime? Where some mad scientist abducts someone to do inhumane experiments on? Occasionally they’ll give their victim some kind of superhuman body to live in?

Take that, at it’s hentai worst. Body designed to be desired, super-humanly strong (to handle whatever the scientist threw at her) resilient (to survive whatever he threw at her) able to self-repair with nanites, a computer back-up for her mind (so he could reset her if anything he did to her actually broke her) and… Well, let’s just say she has an artificial womb and other ‘functionalities’ and leave it at that.

It was meant to be a torment. It was MEANT to torture the person he put into the body, to allow him to do unspeakable things to a victim who could never escape from it, never be free from the inventive and disturbing experiments.

The doctor died of a heart attack when ‘Nina’ woke up after the installation and the first words out of her mouth were "Oh god thank you it’s a miracle!"

He should have chosen his random victim a bit less… randomly.

--- As a Hero! AKA "Oh god did I really let myself be dubbed 'Cybergoth'?"

"Okay so. this is an odd story right?"

"So. I... Well, I always wanted to go cosplay at a convention. I couldn't before all this for... reasons. But now, well, I can right? And I've got the look already down pat so I get together what I need for this KILLER 'The Major' costume. Silver leotard that looks sexy as FUCK, black gloves, leather jacket, the belt, the boots... I got it all. And because I'm planning on partying in the evening, I've got some goggles and a gas mask on me."

"Listen, it's expected, alright? Some things just... are, ok?"

"Anyway I'm dressed for the con and I'm just stopping in a bank to... What? No, I'm not worried about the weather, I don't sweat anymore! Anyway I'm just stopping in to hit the ATM for some funds and some fucker comes in to rob the place! Shot a security guard, was holding a little kid hostage! I had to do something, right? But it's not like I have a REAL identity and I certainly don't want the cops to question why I've got no fingerprints or anything."

"So, yeah. I slip on the mask and goggles, then confront the shooter. So yeah, I got shot but that's not a problem to me anymore. I TOTALLY beat him up and got away while everyone was just sagging in relief. I thought, 'no harm done, except for my cosplay, and I can get the Nanites to fix that for me'."

"Except guess what? I forgot about the news! By mid-day I was all over the local TV as 'mysterious Vigilante' and by the end of the night? I come home from the club to find out now I'm called 'The Cybergoth Hero'."

"Ugh. At least I can change my hair color, nobody thinks it's ME. Not that anybody really knows who I am either..."

(Because people will ask, art is custom for Nina, commissioned from Marauder6272 and colored by a friend)

#my oc's #N4N1 Cybergoth

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writerleo86 · 1 month

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Terravenger Season 6 - The Agents of Light Arc - Episode 511 (Do Not Copy) - 02.06.2024

Minutes later, all the staff members including Commander Beau Ravenstone walked out of the Meeting Room. The emotionless Jon Griffin waited at the doors between the Principal's Office and the Counselor's Office as Morgan Taylor walked to him.

"Everything okay?" asked Jon.

Morgan gave out a kind smile and reported "I have told everything I know to the heads of the departments and the Commander. It is up to them of what they do next."

The detective Mercury Fakinos walked out of the office as well. He quickly found Morgan and made his way to her. Morgan with no emotion turned around and spotted the young detective.

"Counselor," greeted the torrid Jon. "Or Detective?"

Morgan analyzed the newcomer using only her eyes and said "I remember you. You are who Mr. Leo called the Magician."

Mercury asked "What can you tell me about the Agents of Light? Its members?"

"You wish to form options about each significant member?" questioned Morgan.

The sophisticated Mercury shook his head and responded "Whatever information you give may help the Midas Armed Forces weigh their options about how to deal with them separately, or equally."

Morgan thought to herself for a moment. And she finally answered by shaking her head.

At a large hall that was built in a 12th-century style, a familiar person sat on a tall chair at the end which was surrounded by two large statues of goddesses. The ground was made of marble. And the chair remained on the center of a long floor made with sapphire-like carpet.

The person was revealed as the young wizard called Merlin. He wore a black uniform consisting of long sleeves and long leggings. He had on a pair of black gloves along with long blue bands around his wrists. The white skull crest was placed on the center of the chest area. He also had on a pair of short boots that were made of black leathers. And he wore a long blue coat with a large black-lined star placed on the right side while a black-lined half-moon remained on its left side.

The young mage sat there with the left side of his face laid on his left fist while the elbow remained on the left arm of the chair. Meanwhile, another individual walked into the far side of the hall.

This individual turned out to be the beautiful but sinister woman known as Aika. She had fine skin, brown eyes, and a slender body that was also shaped as an hourglass. The front part of her long and wavy hair was purple while the back was black. She had on black eyeliner, blue eye-shadow, and purple lipstick. And she had a thin black line around her forehead while had a black gem on the center of a silver pendant. She wore a leotard that was made of black leather along with see-through leggings. Along with black polish on her fingernails, she had a thin black band around each wrist. She also had on a pair of black warmers around her knees and short black boots. And her white skull crest was placed at the bottom of the bosom area.

She asked in a soft voice "You have summoned me, Lord Merlin?"

Merlin lifted his head as Aika added "What are the commands of our grand lord?"

The emotionless Merlin ordered "You will go to Midas City. You are to find his vessel. And you will bring the vessel here in order to begin our preparations."

Aika gave a vicious grin and answered "Right away Sir."

Terravenger -- Season 6

Episode 511: Blood Brothers

A short while later, Merlin walked into a large dining room which had a long table that was made of the white marble as well. The wizard had met with the large man known as Bison.

The top of Bison's head had black hair styled in a mohawk while his sides and back were shaven. He also had a thick beard. And he was very tall. He wore a sleeveless shirt with its top white while the long bottom was black. He had on his pale-brown bodysuit covering his chest as the straps were tied around him. He also had on a pair of gray jeans and short black combat-boots. And his white skull crest was placed on the top center of the suit.

The caring giant held a long tray with both hands which held a small white cup at the right side as the other side held a large white pitcher.

He asked "The usual for you, Master?"

"Sure," said Merlin. "Thank-you Bison."

Then Merlin faced forward and asked "Has he waited long?"

"He just arrived," answered Bison.

The young mage shook his head and walked toward the far end of the table as he carried the tray that Bison held.

As his noble servant left the room, Merlin sat at the chair which was at the right side of the table as another sat at the end.

The kind Merlin shook his head and reported "It won't be long until we have the Vessel in our possession."

Another male voice had asked "So he destroyed our only base in the Golden Islands?"

The individual was revealed as his younger brother now known as Scry. He was a handsome young man with fair skin and clear blue eyes. He had short dark-brown hair on the top of his head while his sides and back were shaved off. And his body was well-built. He had worn a dark-gray shirt with a V neck and a pair of long black sleeves. He also had on a pair of long black pants. And he wore short black boots.

"It seems so," answered Merlin.

Scry drank a small sip from his cup which he held in his left hand. And Merlin gave a relieved smile.

Merlin replied "We both have been through a lot over the years. I actually never thought I would ever find you. But I did. And you happened to be at the same place where our second-chosen vessel was."

Scry held up his cup as he called out "Tai Ravenstone."

At a small alley somewhere in Midas City, the shaken Tai Ravenstone gave out a large smile as his own friend walked toward him and his friends -- Dilan Carr, Akari Mido, Jade Fenmore, and Clay Wilcox.

The older student named Nicholas Penn gave a warm smile and introduced another person who stood beside him.

Penn informed everybody "My mission went off without a hitch, as usual. But my parents needed me back in Georgia after!"

Penn turned his head to his partner and added "They needed me to show this kid the ropes! He just transferred here!"

Tai stared at the other child and asked his friend "Is he?"

Then Penn wrapped his right arm around the shoulders of the newcomer and told everyone "This is my little brother Ed! He's in the same year as you guys."

The excited Tai cheered "It's about time I get to meet your bro, Penny!"

The newcomer gave a calm smile and greeted "Hi everyone. I'm Edward."

Next, the younger Scry took another sip of his drink and faced Merlin once again.

Scry implied "I was sent to the Penns when I was only two. And I was legally adopted after I turned four. The family really took a liking to me."

"I am grateful they took good care of you," claimed Merlin.

Walking from the front doors of the Midas Academy was Scry who was the student Edward Penn at the time. He carried a black backpack as he walked through Griffith Street as rain fell from the sky. He continued on until he waited under a large tree at Smith Park as his body never became wet. And the wizard Merlin stood before the youth.

After his clothing changed using magic, Edward placed his hands together behind him as he gave a soft smile.

"Did you collect all the data you needed?" asked Merlin.

"Yeah," answered Edward. "The data I received while in this city was of every warrior including Commander Beau Ravenstone. I even gathered enough from the Pluto Commander -- Cama Veil."

Then Edward told him "I didn't know much about her until I was told by our lord. And I went to confront her myself. Kinockee was very useful."

Merlin responded "I am still surprised our lord discovered Kinockee was pregnant while paralyzed in space. It was the Bringer that released her from that part of her prison. Apparently she begged the Master to take the infant away -- You."

The irritated Scry faced his right side and asked "Was it necessary to save the old man?"

"You mean Leo?" replied Merlin. "He still had a part to play in our lord's plans. I had no choice but to rescue him that day, although Leo proved to be more tiresome by the day."

At a dark room inside the Marion Library, the two opponents -- Sage Wood and Leo -- fought each other in a heated battle until a silent ray of purple energy had pierced through the right shoulder of the unsuspecting Wood.

Wood cried "What the hell?"

He was forced to release Leo who fell to his knees. Wood soon fell to his knees as well and felt the great pair on his shoulder.

Then Wood asked "What is this? How was I not able to detect another ki approaching?"

Some time later, the villainous Leo walked onto the bridge of Taurus Road during one windy afternoon.

He turned his head back and stared at the beautiful city until he heard a male voice ask "You aren't even going to thank me for saving your life, Thomas?"

Someone soon appeared by the right side of Leo who said "I had a strong feeling that it was you."

Then he faced the young wizard Merlin.

Leo implied "Not many are able to appear to these mortals undetected. But you... You have the exact ability. And this gift comes from the old version of Earth's magic."

Merlin placed each hand inside a pocket on his coat.

And the wizard had watched the great Midas City along with Leo who replied "Then again, you came from a small faction of white sorcery before meeting with our great lord. And that alone had proven useful to us, Merlin."

Then Merlin told his brother "If we discover that the true vessel was still alive, it would have been hard for our lord to gather his great power."

Scry leaned his head back and asked "What of the kid? How is he progressing?"

The smiling Merlin shook his head and revealed "He is coming nicely. I have been looking after him for a while."

The pleased Scry continued staring at the dark ceiling as he claimed "The kid's supposed to be one of the great lord's main enforcers. Such an opportunity that one has."

Walking through a pair of large doors from a hallway was the calm Merlin who found himself inside a large bedroom.

The individual who hurried to the wizard was a teenaged boy with pale skin, light-blue eyes, short blond hair, and a slender body. He wore a sky-blue T-shirt, long white pants, and long gray socks.

Merlin took a small sip from a small cup he held with his left hand. After that, he lowered his head.

"What's with you?" asked Scry.

The concerned Merlin told him "He may have been created from the cells Leo brought to us from the Sky Knight. But the boy still has a way to go before he is perfect to be by our master's side."

Scry faced him and gave a quick chuckle.

Then he replied "He's nothing but a senseless clone. He has no choice but to be a pawn. Even you can't go against our own father, Jaden."

Merlin turned away from his brother and thought to himself.

Inside the large bedroom, the calm Merlin lowered to his right knee as the pale-skinned boy ran to him. And the boy gave a large smile.

The boy greeted "Mr. Merlin! You came!"

Merlin gave a kind smile and claimed "Of course I did. I will always make time for my favorite man."

The boy held his hands behind him and asked "Did Master Mephisto send you on a mission?"

The blue-garbed wizard placed his right hand on the top of the boy's head as he responded "I am only doing some spying. It's an easy and swift job."

The worried boy lowered his head and told him "Just come back. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

Next, Merlin held the boy in his arms.

The wizard replied "Count on it."

After that, the boy gave a huge smile as tears fell from his eyes.

And the boy told Merlin "I... I love you so much, Mr. Merlin."

After that, Merlin lifted his head and gave a soft smile.

He thought to himself "That boy... He just... He has started to grow on me, and not as just some clone. He has become like another brother to me. He has slowly become very precious to me."

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a-wayne-at-heart-too · 4 years

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Ask: The 27th of April, the Last (and Long) Part

Bonus Ask:

[Stately Wayne Manor]

Jason: *helping Alfred clear out the dinner table* You think we should’ve asked Harley to stay for dinner?

Alfred: If you wished to see Master Bruce’s hair turn to grey as you ate dessert, I don’t see why not.

Jason: *burps loudly and fans his breath away* Whoops. Sorry, Alf. Just my way of complimenting your cooking.

Alfred: *carrying the dishes to the kitchen* Then perhaps you should come here more often, Master Jason.

Jason: *following Alfred* I'd rather not cause any trouble.

Alfred: *stops in his tracks and turns to face Jason with a stern expression* And you don't think it troubles me that you feel unwelcome here?

Jason: *takes the dishes from Alfred’s hands, sets them on the kitchen island, and pulls him in for a hug* Alf, hey... I didn’t mean it like that. I know you guys care about me, it’s just...

Alfred: *sobbing into Jason's shirt* We've already lost you once... Once is enough, Jason...

Jason: *tightens the hug and gently plants a kiss on top of Alfred’s head* I know, I know... I'm back, Alf. I'm back.

>>> *** <<<

Dick and Barbara: *sitting on the carpeted floor in the study, enjoying the heat from the fireplace in front of them, going through a stack of photo albums*

Dick: *smiling fondly* Wow, these are old-old.... I should probably scan them before they crumble to pieces.

Dick: *stops at a page and points at a picture of Bruce and Jason on a boat, smiling, and holding up a tuna* Check this out, Babs... Aw, I love this one. I had a few days off from work, decided to spend it here. Somehow Jason convinced Bruce to take break from himself and go fishing.

Dick: *talking animatedly* So, there we are on Bruce’s huge fishing boat, the Bat-2-Sea -- And Jason’s starting to get seasick because he’s been hanging out by the edge, waiting for a bite for hours -- The persistence on that kid! -- And he finally gets one! A big one, Babs -- *spreads his arms* -- and it was pulling down hard like you wouldn’t believe, but Jason just wouldn’t let go! -- So Bruce drops the glass of wine he’s holding and runs to grab him --

Barbara: What were you doing?

Dick: Who do you think took the picture? As I was saying -- Bruce, he -- he -- *starts to laugh so hard that he tears up* trips over Jason’s line somehow and falls into the ocean! *slapping-the-floor laughing* The World’s Greatest Detective, in his Batwaders, drenched like a wet bird... *sighs happily* You should’ve seen his face!

Barbara: *turns the page* Oh, I can see it now. Still stone-faced, but wet.

Barbara: *stops at a page and giggles* Aw... Will you look at that?

Dick: *looks at the photo Babs is pointing at and chuckles softly* That’s adorable.

Barbara: Those scaly leotards fit him better than they ever did you, Boy Wonder.

Dick: *smirks* Whatever. But I have to admit, he did look great. He looked really... happy. I wish... I wish I saw more of him in action, you know? *voice breaking* I could’ve maybe trained him the way I did Tim and Damian --

Barbara: *rubs his back comfortingly* Dick...

Jason: *walks into the study* Dickie, I took some of your --

Dick: *clears his throat and wipes his eyes haphazardly* Hey, Little Wing!

Jason: Wait, are those our old family photos?

Barbara: *pats the empty spot beside her* C'mere.

Jason: *sits down and rubs his hands together* Where’s the one where Bruce goes kersplat in the ocean?

Jason: *flips through the pages and grimaces at his photos as Robin* You're not gonna use these to blackmail me, are you?

>>> *** <<<

Duke: *watches as his RPG character explodes for the fifth time in a row and shakes his head* You beat me again! You're so good at this game, man.

Jason: *snorts and puts his controller down* Dude, you weren't even trying. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were letting me win.

Duke: What? Naaaah... That's... Come on, why would I do that?

Jason: *gets up and shrugs, grinning knowingly* I dunno... 'Cause you like seeing me alive?

Duke: Yeah. It’s pretty awesome, actually.

Jason: *offers to bump fists* I gotta pack up. Good game, though. See you around, bro.

Duke: *exploding-fist-bumps with Jason* You too, bro.

Jason: *pats Ace the Bathound’s head as he exits the game room*

>>> *** <<<

Steph: *examining Jason’s face* You look really pale.

Cass: *pointing at various spots on his face* And you have a lot of... scars.

Jason: *sitting on a stool in front of Cass’s vanity dresser, staring at himself in the mirror and absentmindedly running a finger over the shirt-covered scar on his chest* Yeah? That bad, huh?

Steph: *grins* Nothing a little makeup can’t fix.

Jason: *rubbing his chin* You think so? I mean, I just came here to borrow a few weapons from Cass, but if you think I need a makeover...

Steph and Cass: *look at each other and squeal in delight*

>>> *** <<<

Tim: And this *holding up a minuscule gadget between his fingers for Jason to see* generates a force field over your entire body. The more the impact, the greater the energy generated. Schway, huh?

Jason: *nodding his head appreciatively as he takes the gadget and sticks it on the lapel of his leather jacket* Schway.

Tim: *proudly shows Jason a Bat-shaped breastplate * Now, this -- You're gonna love this -- It can turn you invisible to the naked eye for roughly 34.5 seconds, giving you time to do all kinds of offensive or defensive stuff. They won’t know what hit them, Jay. You’re basically gonna be invincible and Joker... Joker, he’s... he’s not... not gonna... *drops the breastplate unceremoniously*

Jason: *places a hand on Tim’s shoulder* Thank you, Timbo. Really. But I'll be fine out there. You don't have to worry about me.

Tim: Yeah? Can you promise me that? Because I don’t think I can live through another one of Bruce's meltdowns.

Jason: *chuckles softly* Aren't they the best?

>>> *** <<<

Jason: *staring at an empty grave layered with concrete in the backyard*

Jason: *rolls his eyes* I know you're there.

Bruce: *comes out of the shadows and stands next to Jason*

Jason: Why'd you keep it?

Bruce: Because I'm a sentimental old fool.

Jason: This is just... creepy. Even for you.

Bruce and Jason: *stare at the empty grave in silence*

Jason: I've forgiven you.

Bruce: *glances at Jason, who could’ve sworn his adoptive father’s eyes were bloodshot*

Jason: You know that, don’t you? I mean, I know we’re always going to disagree about Jok-- about him, and a few other things, but... You’ll always be family, Bruce. My family.

Bruce: *looks at Jason, smiling wearily*

Jason: *grinning back at Bruce*

Bruce: *puts an arm around Jason’s shoulder* Thank you... Son.

Jason: *pulls Bruce in for a tight hug*

Bruce and Jason: ...

Jason: Hey, remember that time you went kersplat in the ocean?

>>> *** <<<

Damian: *knocks softly on Jason's bedroom door* Todd.

Jason: *stuffing a duffel bag with clothes, homemade snacks, and weapons* Hey, kid, come in. I’m just getting my stuff ready --

Damian: These came from Mother. *drops a pile of books on Jason’s old desk*

Jason: *picking one after the other up excitedly* Tolstoy, Machiavelli, Sun Tzu, Shakespeare, Marx... No way...

Damian: They’ve been with me for a while. But since you rarely come over, they’ve been collecting dust and taking up valuable space in my room. -Tt-

Jason: *wiping the dust off with his shirt and hugging each one* She kept them... These were my friends back when I was in the League...

Damian: I didn’t realize we had more in common than just being my Father’s sons.

Jason: Wow. I have no idea how I’m supposed to bring all of these home. I mean, I got here on roller blades, for Bat’s sake --

Damian: *thrusts a piece of paper into Jason’s chest* This is for you.

Jason: *gingerly uncrumples it, revealing a painting of him and Damian*

Jason: *reading the writing in calligraphy underneath* “The Second Chance Robins”... *looks at Damian, feeling the tears well up in his eyes* You made this?

Damian: *looking down at his feet* When it’s my day... M-my d-day... Will you come over, too?

Jason: *gets down on bended knee to be at eye level with his little brother* Hey, buddy, look at me. Damian, look at me. Of course. Listen, we’ll do whatever you want. We’ll, um... We’ll take bad guys down together! Pull pranks on Tim! You name it, I got you.

Damian: Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Todd.

Jason: I promise that I’ll do my best, okay?

Damian: You could stay the night, you know. You’re home anyway.

Jason: *ruffles Damian’s hair and grins* I'd like that. As long as you hang out here with me. And I promise I won't tell anybody because it'll ruin our reputation.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

If truth be told, @wingedskyes , Jason makes himself available on his Death Day. Because even if neither he nor his family and friends mention it, he knows that they need him just as much as he needs them.

Thank you for this Ask. It was both fun and just a tad bit heartbreaking to write.

And thank you, @warrior-of-the-blue-moon , for the nice addition.

See: Part 1, Part 2

#Ask #Bruce Wayne #Richard Grayson #Jason Todd #Timothy Drake #Damian Wayne #Barbara Gordon #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain #Duke Thomas #Alfred Pennyworth #Talia al Ghul #Ace the Bathound

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nothing-but-dreams · 3 years

Text

SPNDBCC- 2: Dean Is Bisexual

When Dean was a kid, he liked the typical things boys his age liked. Riding bikes, arcade games, hot wheels. His favorite thing at the time, though, was wrestling, and his favorite wrestler was Gunner Lawless. Gunner was the man of the hour. He was the heavyweight champion, the fans loved him. When Dean tuned in on Monday nights, he was most excited to hear Gunner’s music hit. It was his favorite part of the week.

Gunner would come out in his spandex tights, and a white leather jacket with cowboy fringe. He looked so strong. Like a superhero. Like he could rip a man apart with his bear hands. At the end of his entrance, he would always give his glove to a lucky kid in the audience. Dean dreamed that one day, he would be that kid.

His eyes lit up and his heart raced when Gunner was on the screen. He chalked that up to being a typical fan. He was excited. But his eyes lingered a little too long on those oiled-up arms, stared a little too hard when Gunner would bend over to pick up an opponent, wished he was the one lying on the mat when Gunner went in for the pin. But surely everyone had thoughts like that, right?

One night his dad sat down on the stain-covered couch of whatever random motel they were staying at and watched a bit of the show with him. John didn’t know many of the wrestlers, but he was quick to cheer when blood was spilled, and quick to make comments when the women came out for their one and only match of the night.

There was a pretty blonde in a high-cut leotard fighting against some lady dressed as a magician. John nudged Dean as the two women locked up, and with a sly smile he said, “Now see, I’d let her wrestle me anytime, am I right?”

Dean nodded with a forced smile. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t find her attractive, she was smoking, ten out of ten, but he noticed no one ever made those kinds of comments when the guys were on the screen. Even when he found the odd local kid who also liked wrestling, they never talked about the guys the same way they talked about the girls. But to Dean, it all felt the same.

Well, not exactly the same. Because girls made his mouth water and his heart skip, and guys made him want to surrender and touch and hold. It was all too much.

He knew John would never approve if he said anything, so he just pretended that those feelings weren’t there. But he couldn’t help the nervous laughter that escaped him when a friend he had a crush on told a joke, or the way he bit his lip and focused on the ground if a boy caught his gaze for too long, or the jolt of electricity when his hand brushed against the hand of the very cute boy he played Mortal Combat against on the weekends.

Dean always knew he liked boys and girls, but he was trapped, longing for the moment when he could finally exhale and live in his truth. He didn’t know when that day would come, or if it would come, but if it did, Dean hoped he would be met with love.

#SPNDBCC #bi dean #supernatural #fan fic #dean winchester #fan fiction #writing #dean is bisexual #and always has been #wrestling #beyond the mat #gunner lawless #bisexuality

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine

Erik and Reader are best friends and Reader is the best freaky love for Erik but he doesn’t know how freaky she is. He finds out when he sees her at a heels class dancing to Beyoncé- Rocket.

“Deep down, everyone doubts themselves. Sometimes, I think I’m not good enough but at the end of the day I know I’m the fucking shit. I pray you quit overthinking, replaying failed scenarios, feeding self doubt & seeing the good in everyone but yourself you deserve more, ma.”

He passes Y/N the blunt, licking his full lips with a quick swipe of his tongue, and showing off his gold canines. Taking a puff of weed, Y/N watches Erik scratch the side of his defined torso over a tattoo that says Fuck Reality in that cursive lettering she loved to see. He yawns, blinking his sleepy eyes a few times before looking over at Y/N. She couldn’t help but look at his face.

“Make yourself a priority, Y/N. For real. Stop settling for these toxic lame ass niggas. When you meet a real nigga you gon’ realize you was never asking for too much.”

Y/N passed the blunt back to Erik while staring out of his bedroom window from his king sized bed. She knew her worth, she really did, but she always ended up going back to the same fuck boys.

“You’re too fine to be giving all your time and energy into him. Too fine. My bestfriend needs to know her worth. You looking at me like that but I’m being honest, shit, when was the last time you felt appreciated? When was the last time a nigga did something for you and didn’t expect something in return? Called to check up on you? Texted you back? Ate your pussy because he knows you had a rough week and you just need your pussy ate? Some good sex? When?”

Her carefree bestfriend with his tapered dreads and full beard and mustache. His sincere whiskey colored eyes and messy brows that he always talked with. Raising them, creasing them. He smooths a hand down his solid and sculpted chest before resting that hand over his abs. The gold rings on his fingers against his brown skin was just as beautiful as the sun setting before them.

“I can’t remember. I’m embarrassed to say,” Y/N finally speaks. She heaved a sigh, unzipping her velour pink hoodie, a white form-fitting shirt underneath, “I know I deserve more. Ugh, now I’m going to be single and lonely for Valentine’s.”

Erik sat up on his elbows, the hue of the sunset against his russet skin, “I’m your valentine now. i’ll be there at 10pm climbing through your bedroom window with flowers. Dahlias right? Cool, I’ll see you later tonight?” Erik gave Y/N a teasing smile. She knew he was trying to make her feel better but it didn’t change the fact that it sounded so...honest? Like he wanted to do and say that.

“Scary movies and chill? That romantic movie shit is played out. We can snuggle close with some popcorn with Freddy Kruger on the screen.”

“Your obsession with 80s slasher movies is amazing,” Y/N laughs, “Why must you mix Valentine’s with blood and gore, Erik?”

“Why not? Instead of bleeding your heart out because you’re heart broken, you can watch a heart actually bleeding out,” Erik chuckles before he ashes out the blunt in his ceramic ashtray that Y/N made for him with 4/20 carved into it.

“Should I dress up?” Y/N played along.

“Just keep those same straight backs in your hair and wear those little stripe linen shorts that make your ass look nice. Oh, and that mini white T-shirt that says Daddy on it in pink letters. Can’t forget the mix match ankle socks either.”

“You can wear a durag with a pair of grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt. The ones you wear that’s all loose fitting on you because you refuse to wear a tighter one? Yeah, and a pair of Vans.”

“What time for our little date, ma?”

“8. And don’t be late either.”

“To a date with you? Never.”

“Okay, I have a question,” Y/N turns towards him, “what’s your idea of a perfect night with your girl?”

“Hmm,” Erik rolled his moistened lips in deep thought, “Dick rubs and intellectual conversations. Head in a comfortable bed. Falling asleep with my head laying on her crotch so I can just pull her panties to the side and eat her pussy. Honestly, give pleasure by just being there. We don’t even have to talk or fuck. Presence is just comforting.”

“That sounds amazing,” Y/N never had those things but that’s what her bestfriend likes? She wished she had that same treatment.

“Those chill, nice nights with someone you feel comfortable with.” Erik spoke in a low tone while twirling a single loc, “I crave that.”

“I know, ugh, me too, Erik,” Y/N laid back against the bed, “I have to go to class today.”

Erik gave her a questioning look, “What class?”

Y/N turned around to lay on her belly, “A heels class. Remember I was telling you that I started doing this like a month ago?”

“Shorty, I have other things going on with me right now I didn’t focus on that,” Erik gives her a sad look, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been working on a routine. I think I have it down. It’s gonna be real sexy.”

“Sexy? Who you tryna impress with this class?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N teased.

“Ah, man. That ain’t fair, ma. I’m your bestie.”

“You are but I don’t need to tell you my business,” Y/N rolls her eyes into her head.

“It’s cool, cuz I’m coming there with you.”

Y/N’s face flushed.

“What? I can’t come-“

“NO.”

She didn’t want Erik to watch her dance. Being surrounded by those women made her feel like she was in her room dancing in the mirror. They all connected because they related to each other. If Erik came there she would probably mess up her routine since he would definitely be watching her move. It was a heels choreography class and Erik is a man, he’s going to watch. Y/N wore either a pair of black high crotch panties with fishnets and a cropped t shirt or a form fitting leotard with black sheer stockings. Six inch heels on her feet with a skinny heel since she’s gotten better. Popping her ass and hitting splits to the music. Erik never saw her like that. What would he say and do when he did?

“It really ain’t that deep, ma,” Erik jokes because Y/N was spaced out, “I promise I won’t laugh at you. I don’t have shit else to do but sit around so let me come with you.”

Y/N pondered while staring down at her hands before heaving a sigh of defeat, “okay. You can come.”

“I knew you would say yes,” Erik gave her a half smirk, “You can’t tell me no even if you tried.”

“Don’t embarrass me in there, Erik,” Y/N spoke to him with a warning in her voice. She knew he could be silly and fuck with her but when she danced, it was her time to shine.

“Teh, girl, you really think I would do that?”

Erik got closer to Y/N, leaning on his elbows while his face got closer to hers, “I’ll be on the side lines cheering you on. I promise, okay?”

Y/N looked up into his eyes, giving Erik a weird look before turning away from him, “Okay.”

He was acting very...strange. Not like his usual self but Y/N could be overthinking it. She sat up on her knees, lifting off the bed to put her sneakers back on before picking up her velour jacket and her PINK gym bag that carried all of the things she needed for class.

“Put on a shirt and come on, Erik.” She picked up a shirt that was wrinkled and balled up on the floor before throwing it at him, “I’m not trying to be late!”

“Calm that shit the fuck down, Y/N. Don’t give me attitude before I really make you late for this class.”

—————————-

“You calm down yet?” Erik asks Y/N while following behind her to the dance studio that held her heels class. The closer they walked, the more Erik could hear the deep base to the sensual music that vibrates the walls. He’d sit back and watch a bunch of women shake their ass in heels. Erik looked at his bestfriend walking ahead of him as she lead the way with a sway of her hips. Those tantalizing hips. Erik looked up at the back of her head as if she had eyes back their and could see him checking her out. He couldn’t help himself. Like he said back in his room, she’s too fine.

“Are you going to behave?” She looked back at him over her shoulder with a brow raised, “Well? Are you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Erik said with a husky voice, “whatever you say.”

Y/N rolled her eyes before making a left turn, opening the double doors to a dimly lit studio with a pink neon sign of a woman in heels that read dance. A few chairs rested in the corner of the room, mirrors were placed on one side of the wall so that the ladies could watch themselves. A guy stood off to the side in deep conversation with a short plump girl about 5’ 3 dressed in a mesh leotard with red fishnets and heels. He was fumbling with a camcorder that Erik assumes is used to record the ladies do their routines. On the polished hardwood floor, directly in the middle, were all the ladies doing stretches. Some were down in a split stretching out their legs, others were bending over to touch their toes, stretching out their backs. Erik recognized the music. It sounded like Teyana Taylor & Kehlani- Morning.

“Okay, I gotta get myself changed, I’ll be back, alright?” Y/N spoke with a whisper to him.

“Yeah, I’ll be over here,” Erik pointed to a black chair with a leather cushion to sit on.

“Cool,” Y/N gave Erik a silly smile before walking away, waving to a few ladies as she made her way over to the dressing room. Erik rested his hands in the pockets of his black cargo pants that he wore. The wrinkled shirt wasn’t the shirt he had on. He was wearing a muscle tee with the sides cut really low, giving you a view of his muscles and scars along his ribs down to his hips. Black boots on his feet and gold around his neck and on his fingers. Erik scratches his scruffy facial hair while looking around the class. When he did this, eyes were on him, wondering who this handsome guy was that came with Y/N. He entertained their looks for a minute before taking his phone out of his pocket to scroll through pointless apps.

“Oooo, Y/N, what routine are we gonna start out with today, honey?” A tall mocha skinned girl with a large curly bush and a black catsuit on asked. Erik looked up at the mention of her name. His eyes seemed to widen and gawk at Y/N. Erik was in a state of stupor. Stupefied but mesmerized at the same time.

“I have something I’ve been working on all week but that can wait for tomorrow. I gotta have a guy to do the lap dance with. When is Montell coming back?”

“Girl, why use Montell when you can use him?” The tall chick pointed at Erik. Erik looks over at Y/N, watching her eyes grow wide.

“Erik? No,” Y/N laughs, “He’s just here to watch until I’m done.”

The chubby chick that was talking to the camera guy came over to intrude, “Isn’t that your boyfriend though?”

“No. He’s my bestfriend and he’s just going to watch.”

“Well, can I use him for my routine then? I put a little something something together to Ciara- Body Party and I need a nigga to pop this ass on. He so cute, Y/N. Hi bestfriend!” The pretty chubby girl waved at Erik who returned the wave with a smile on his full lips.

“He is cute. How can you just be friends with that?”

“Dominique,” Y/N was referring to the taller chick, “Erica,” She looked over at the short plump girl, “I’m using him for my routine.” Y/N spoke with finality. Wasn’t no chick in that class gonna put ass on him if it wasn’t her.

“Oh? Why the change of heart?” Dominique folded her arms while giving Y/N a sassy smile. Y/N didn’t say a word as she walked away, looking over at Erik before sticking her tongue out at him. He was in a fit of laughter, clutching his chest and everything.

Y/N was dressed in a black thong with sheer black stockings that had tiny rhinestones on it, a tiny black and gold wrap top that made her breast sit high and black stilettos on her feet. All that ass out and bouncing each time she walked. Erik knew his bestfriend has body but damn, he never saw her like this. Y/N was fumbling with a wall audio system that was installed to play throughout the studio. She found the song she wanted, pausing it, then grabbing a chair to bring in the center of the dance floor. The other ladies crowded around and the camera guy set up so that it was facing her. Y/N then walked over to Erik, a roll of her eyes while trying to fight a smile. She got down in front of him in a squat, talking closely with him. Erik leaned forward on his elbows to hear her.

“Okay, so I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that but,” She sighed, “I’m gonna need you for my routine.”

“Hmm,” Erik smirked, “What I gotta do?”

Y/N licked her lips, “All you gotta do is sit in that chair for me. You’ll be in that chair while I do all the work, alright?”

“Let me ask you something,” Erik narrowed his eyes, “Why did you change your mind so quick?”

Y/N rolled her eyes away from him before kissing her teeth, “You gonna do that for me, or what?”

“You ain’t off the hook, ma,” Erik stood up, while looking down at Y/N who was still in a squat position while staring up the valley of his body to connect with his eyes, “You gon’ tell me after this class.”

“Whatever,” Y/N finally got up, grabbing Erik’s hand with force, walking him to the middle of the dance floor. He wasn’t nervous one bit. He wanted to see what his bestie could do.

“Sit.” She instructed, earning oooo’s and ahhhh’s from the ladies around them. Erik raises his brows at her before taking his seat real slow, legs wide and one arm stretched over the back of the chair. He motioned with his head for Y/N to get started, his eyes intense and heated. Y/N motioned for one of the girls she started the class with to play her song.

Beyoncé- Rocket began to play.

Let me sit this ass

On you

Y/N sat down real slow on Erik while looking back at him. She wound her hips, back arching and ass moving up the length of his crotch nice and gently. She did a spin on his lap, her leg going up and over his head so she could straddle him. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders before pulling on his shirt to bring him closer to her. She made him watch her while her hips moved over him. Erik has to hold onto the sides of the chair.

Show you how I feel

Let me take this off

Will you watch me

Yes, mass appeal

Don't take your eyes

Don't take your eyes off it

Watch it, babe

If you like

You can touch me baby

Do you

Do you wanna touch me baby, ooh

Grab a hold, don't let go

Let me know

That you

Ready (ready)

Erik looked at her with eyes so deeply filled with desire there was no denying his attraction to his bestfriend. Y/N held those eyes with her low ones, before grabbing his jaw to tease him. She almost touched his lips with hers but she pulled away before Erik could even get a taste.

I just wanna show you now

Slow it down

Go around

You rock hard

Y/N stood up, getting down on her knees in front of Erik while running a hand from his chest down to his crotch that was indeed rock hard.

I rock steady

She bounced up and down in a squat to demonstrate how steady she would rock on that hard dick. A few chicks wolf whistled at that, cheering her on.

And rock right up to the side of my mountain

Climb until you reach my peak baby, peak babe, peak

And reach right into the bottom of my fountain

Y/N pats her kitty kat to indicate where that fountain he needed to find was.

I wanna play in your deep baby, your deep baby, deep

Then dip me under where you can feel my river flowing and flow

Y/N went back on the floor, her legs coming all the way up to rest on each side of her head. She was open like the peace sign. Her hands ran up her body, eyes still on Erik to show him that she was nothing to play with. He gave her a sly smirk that showed off a single dimple. So this how she got down? She danced all freaky like this? Showing him where she wanted him to go with his hardness?

Hold me 'til I scream for air to breathe

She grabs her neck, body arching from the floor. Erik could feel his dick growing stiffer.

And wash me over until my well runs dry

Send all your sins all over me, babe, me baby, me

Rock it…

Y/N got up from the floor, swaying her hips. She stared into the camera, moving in those heels like she was wearing a pair of sneakers. Erik didn’t know she was this flexible. When she arched her back to pop her ass, getting into a split stance while running her hand on her crotch he wanted to lift from that chair, pick her up, and hold the back of her neck while making her pop her ass on his hard crotch. He had to have restraint because this is her routine but FUCKKK, was it hard.

Rock it 'til waterfalls

Bathe in these waterfalls

She grinned her hips into the floor before bringing her legs up from behind, her heels almost touching the back of her head before rolling over to lift a single leg in the air, grinding her hips forward. She was showing him what that body could do. She was showing him exactly how freaky his bestfriend could be.

I do it like it's my profession

I gotta make a confession

I'm proud of all this bass

When you put it in your face

She stood, arching forward, and grabbing her ankles while looking back at Erik. Her ass popped and swayed from side to side.

By the way, if you need a personal trainer or a therapist

I can be a piece of sunshine, inner peace, entertainer

Anything else that you may read between the lines

You and I create rockets and waterfalls

“YES HUNTY!” One of them yelled out while snapping their fingers.

“THATS IT Y/N!”

Erik nods his head in approval. He found himself rocking to the beat while tapping a single foot and grinding his hips in the chair. She rode that song with so much ease. Beyoncé’s voice mixed with her sensual moves had everyone in that room watching in complete silence now. The song played on and then that’s when it became really intense...

I can't help but love the way we make love

Daddy, daddy

Ooh child, ooh now

Yes, Lord, damn baby

She was going crazy. Popping her ass, arching her back, looking at Erik with her mouth hanging open. Swinging her head from side to side, running her hands over her breasts before jiggling them. That continuous Daddy, Daddy, has Erik losing his mind. The self control was unraveling.

You driving me cray, cray, yeah

You ain't right for doing it to me like that daddy

Y/N crawled towards him. She was staring at him like she wanted to rip his clothes off and show some attention to the hard dick that she felt growing in his pants. When she made it over to him, she got into a handstand, her legs widening into a split, before descending back on him, her legs wrapping around his waist while Erik pulled her forward with his hands on her hips.

Even though

I've been a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad girl

Y/N bends her body back while grinding on him so hard and forceful that Erik couldn’t help but to grind up into her on that chair. His hips were lifting from the chair.

Tell me what you're gonna do about that

He wanted to do something right fucking now. Y/N was driving him crazy. His growls and moans were trapped in his throat because of everyone surrounding him.

Punish me please

Daddy what you're going to do with all of this

Ass

Y/N turns around, her ass rubbing along his chest. Erik moves his hands down her back before slapping her ass, causing Y/N to gasp and everyone around them to cheer and clap.

All up in your face, yeah

Hell yeah

Love me so deep

Ooh my shit's so good it ain't even right

This shit wasn’t fair. She bounced on his lap in a continuous rhythm to the freaky beat. Since she wanted to give him a little lap dance to this beat she was definitely going to fuck him to this song. Bestie or not.

I know I'm right

Hell yeah you the shit

That's why you're my equivalent

So sexy

To Erik’s disappointment, Y/N got up from his lap, circling him in the chair before standing behind him. She lowered her arms over his shoulders from behind, taking her fingers to drag his muscle tee up to reveal his chiseled body. Abs flexed, skin so smooth even with the raised scars, her nails clawing lightly at his ripped abs all the way up to his chest. Her lips lightly touched the side of neck, giving him a lick there while the song faded out. The room erupted with applause at her routine. Y/N wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck, rocking him back and forth with a big smile on her face. Erik grabs her arms, holding them with a grin on his lips. Y/N did her thing.

“Girllllllllllll,” Dominique shouted while coming over to hug Y/N, “You had your bestfriend ready to hop off this chair and handle you, girl.”

“Oh? Really?” Y/N spoke into Erik’s ear before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, “I’m sorry I put this ass on you and you couldn’t do anything about it.”

Erik clenched his jaw. She only fueled him more.

“Nothing to say? Hmm?” She dragged on.

Erik looked up at her with a tilt of his head. She knew those hard domineering eyes meant one thing and one thing only: she was going to get it for sure. He had something for her after this class.

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #erik killmonger

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years

Photo

Here’s a brand new talentswapped Myth, just for this Tuesday! Get ready to dive into to a world of fantastical beings, for you are about to meet Myth, the Former Ultimate Novelist!

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BACKSTORY AND TALENT

With a rich inner world and a love for all things creative, Myth has been destined towards the arts, ever since she could hold a pencil. Despite her rather isolated childhood, Myth had a great starting support system in the form of her parents, elder sisters, and childhood friend Wyre. While Myth had a great variety of genres in her vast collection of works and future works, her main genre is a toss-up between romance and fantasy, with both of them being really passionate interests for her. Some of her most famous works include “Whispers of the Rain”, a mystery book series centering around a ragtag team of investigators snooping around for clues centering around supernatural happenings at the summer camp they attend, and “H34RT63AT”, a speculative sci-fi fiction work on a robot society that is capable of romantic feelings and copulation. Besides being famous for her literary works, Myth is also famous for her hospitality towards her fans, despite her eccentric attitude.

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Idol

As well as being Myth’s childhood friend and the only one of the Anons to know about Myth’s mysterious “base personality“ (aka. the personality Myth had before she started her illustrious career), Wyre is also the leading lady of the rock-idol group, “Saurus”. The members of Saurus, but Wyre in particular, are famous for their boyish charm and wild vocal performances, which matches with their punk aesthetic and appearances. Whenever either Myth or Wyre need privacy and time away from their massive fanbases, they regularly visit each other’s houses and relax with a good book to some good ambience music.

Outfit: A sleeveless black leather jacket over a ragged white shirt with her group‘s logo on the front, black pants with a red stripe on either side, black buckled boots.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Baseball Player

Despite her eccentric fashion and speech patterns and continual talks of an “eye of power”, Scar is famous amongst baseball fans for her strong throws and accurate bat swings. Off of the diamond and on the sidelines, Scar is commonly regarded amongst her team mates as being the “team mom”, always prepared with cold compresses and water bottles to her sore and dehydrated teammates. Despite her own eccentricities, even she is weirded out by the eccentric personalities of Myth, even if Scar considers Myth’s books amazing. Scar reminds Myth of her Fantasy persona, and wishes to combat with Scar, sword-to-bat.

Outfit: A purple and black baseball cap, a matching eyepatch on her left eye that she claims hides the “eye of power”, a white baseball uniform with a big purple “6” on the front and back, black shoes, scarf from original design.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Fanfiction Author

Underneath the internet pseudonym of “FatherFigureFusion”, Fusion garnered fame for his well-written online stories that are beloved by mutual fans of his favorite works, whether they’d be cartoons, video games, or books. Upon finding out that one his favorite novelists is present at the Kibo-Con, this gentle giant just couldn’t hold still and wishing to bombard Myth with questions. Luckily, Myth has endless patience for her fanbase, and happily obliges to answer her underclassman’s questions. They love talking to one another about the trials and tribulations of the writing process, and regularly exchange their beta works together.

Outfit: Same outfit from his original design, but with fandom pins all over his hoodie and backpack.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Detective

Being one of the most competent homicide detectives in her hometown, despite her age, Fusion II has a great eye for investigation and an analytical mindset, just like her crime-solving parents. As hard as she tries to play up the “rebellious problem child and hardened grizzled detective” image, upon finding out that her favourite mystery novelist is attending the convention that she’s attended, her inner nerd and mystery geek just springs out, much to the detective’s embarrassment. Every time Myth talks to Fusion II about on-the-job incidents, Myth gets brand-new ideas for her future mystery novels, much to the excitement of II.

Outfit: Same outfit from the original but with a white trench coat and matching fedora, as opposed to a gakuran.

Just Anon, Ultimate Swimmer

Famous amongst the athletic community for his speedy movement through the pool, Janon seems to be the complete opposite when on the land: sluggish and lethargic. If it were up to Janon, he would gladly spend the rest of his life under the sea, without any annoying paparazzi and teachers to bother him. Because of the differing domains of their talents, Janon and Myth don’t interact much with each other, but Myth could sympathise with Janon’s struggles with an adoring fanbase. What Myth doesn’t know, is that Janon is a fan of one of Myth’s fantasy books, more specifically “Attack on Aquarius”, a story on the misunderstood mersharks.

Outfit: A blue and white shark hoodie (gawr gura) with nothing but pink and blue swim trunks underneath and matching flip flops on his feet.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Martial Artist

Sparkle is commonly known in tournaments by the self-made epithet, “THE COMBATIVE QUEEN”. Despite her eccentric attitude, her sparkly fashion and her genuine belief in magical girls and childhood desire to become one, Sparkle’s prowess in martial arts is nothing to be laughed at, for she dominated tournament after tournament with her combat skills. Just like with Scar, Sparkle reminds Myth of her fantasy author personality, who Sparkle happens to be a mutual fan of. Because of the martial artist’s emotional and over-exaggerated personality, both Horror and Romance Myth‘s interactions with Sparkle lead to inevitable comic gold.

Outfit: Hair cut into a bob, a sequinned leotard with a pink to blue gradient and magical girl frills, bandages tied around her arms and legs, contacts.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Programmer, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Clairvoyant

Egg and Wet Sock are as different as night and day, with Egg being energetic and all about tech, and Wet Sock being more sullen, aggressive and all about the supernatural. Despite the two differing domains of the twins‘ talents, there is one particular thing that they both have in common: their shared penchant for inserting unnecessary and cursed comments into every conversation they enter. While they love to playfully tease Myth with her cursed comments, when Myth switches to Horror Myth, they quickly submit to the true Queen of Cursed. The Queen of Cursed and her twin minions set out to spread the cursed, much to the dismay of the other Anons.

Egg’s Outfit: A green and blue tracksuit with pixelated earrings and white sneakers, glasses from original design.

Wet Sock’s Outfit: A black and white tracksuit and an ominous black cloak that goes over their head.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Lucky Student

With a passive and go-with-the-flow personality and a love for whatever is popular these days, Curious is as normal as one could get these days. In fact, winning the Hope’s Peak Middle School lottery was the most monumental event of Curious‘s entire life. Curious seems to be a people-pleaser, for they regularly flatter others and go along with what others say, which has a tendency to breed trouble. Because of Eldritch, Curious seems to be convinced that all of Myth‘s personalities are four separate people, and Myth has since given up trying to convince them, and now plays along with the separate people schtick.

Outfit: Same outfit from the original but with messier hair, patchy overalls and a clover design on their tie.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Affluent Progeny

As the most prolific child in an already prolific family, Nerd is the vicious and ambitious head of the DEXTER conglomerate, only the prime company when it comes to technology. Nerd always has at least one piece of his company’s technology on his person, just so he can blast away annoying peasant that get in his way, with Myth (Romance Myth in particular, with her alluring figure and maternal energy) being the number one target for his ire, much to the anger of her over-protective childhood friend. Myth isn’t stupid, and knows that Nerd just needs a little redemption arc to help him loosen up and realise his true feelings for her.

Outfit: Same outfit from the original.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Biker Gang Leader

Mysterious sightings of a large group of helmeted people were spotted all throughout several towns in the area, and eventually they were traced back to the “Apocalypse NO” gang, a band of secret apocalypse preppers, who wish to topple the “oppressive“ government they claim to be living under. Eldritch is currently trying to indoctrinate the other Kibo-Con members into his biker gang, but only succeeded in indoctrinating Curious. Myth may not understand a good majority of Eldritch’s anti-government rambles, but she thinks that his biker gang would make for a good sci-fi plot. If only she can convince him that her alternate personalities are all the same people.

Outfit: A black motorcycle helmet that covers his face, an entirely black jumpsuit, spiky black boots, and a red scarf.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Soldier

Seeing Dream in person and hearing about her talent would leave one feeling shocked and confused. When you look at this bouncy, cheery, and childish little lass, you would never guess that she is a master at piloting tanks and aiming fire at foreign combat enemies. Now that she is off of the battlefield and into a school environment, she’s trying her best to adapt from the life of warfare that she was forced into at a young age. Myth may be no expert on warfare, but she did her research and even she knows that being exposed to such violence at that age can’t be good for a young girl’s mind, no matter how many times Dream denies it.

Outfit: A barrette that resembles a sniper’s scope, a dark brown sleeveless parka over a camo hoodie, blue jorts, and black army boots.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Fashionista

Iris has had a passion for fashion ever since she was little, and with that passion, came a passionate following of like-minded people. With a belief that there is no such thing as a “fashion curse”, Iris carries herself with confidence and optimism that can be seen, even in pictures. When Myth first met Iris, the first thing the fashion icon did was compliment Myth’s patchy hand-me-down jacket, and how it went well with her otherwise high-class appearance, and that compliment makes Myth smile, just by thinking about it. Iris also appreciates how, just by a little change to her hair and jacket style, Myth can almost become a different person.

Outfit: A white beret on her head, a white jacket with a pink trim over a pink t-shirt and matching shorts, white boots, glasses and barrettes from original design.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Gambler

Despite looking and acting shy and innocent, in a good majority of situations, Purple is a mastermind, when it comes to the underground hive of gambling. With a hard-to-read expression and vocabulary, Purple is an enigma, even amongst her fellow gamblers. Fortunately, because of her talent, Myth can understand exactly what the verbose gambler is trying to say to her. According to the gambler, Purple came from a formally-wealthy family that lost all of its riches, and Purple resorted to gambling in order to win her family’s riches back. Needless to say, Myth both feels sorry for Purple and inspired to write a brand-new story.

Outfit: A black scarf with a card suit motive that makes her expressions harder to read, a black vest over a red tie and purple dress shirt, a black skirt, leggings and shoes from original design.

This series centers around an “eccentric” novelist, as she gains inspiration from the colorful individuals around her, and weirding the colorful individuals out with her odd personalities.

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APPEARANCE

Myth normally keeps her purple-dyed hair that reaches to her mid-back down, only to tie it up in different styles, depending on which “personality” takes over. As for clothing, Myth wears a brown and patchy jacket that belonged to her father, and has writing supplies stashed in her massive pockets, over a black vest with blue outlines, which in turn, is over a white dress shirt and a pink necktie. Myth wears a skirt that’s the same color as her vest, baggy gyaru-style socks and black loafers.

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PERSONALITY

The odd part about Myth’s personality and appearance is that it shifts, depending on what the genre of her latest work is, which, according to Myth, is meant to be “getting into the genre” and a sort of immersion/method acting.

Her personalities and genres go as followed:

Romantic!Myth: Wears her hair in a side plait, switches to contact lenses and ties her jacket around her waist. Carries herself with an almost maternal air. Very teasy and flirtatious, and loves to toy with others, gives off serious “Ara, ara!” vibes. A massive sucker for suckers.

Fantasy!Myth: Wears her hair in a ponytail and wears her jacket like a cape. The “Chuuni” of the personalities, acting like a ruler of a fantasy land and refers to others by similar fantasy-esque terms.

Horror!Myth: Puts her hair into pigtails, lets some of her bangs down and slouches down. The most cursed and pessimistic of the personalities, interested in the supernatural and prone to adding horrific and cursed comments to any conversation, much to the dismay of the Brain Cells.

Mystery!Myth: Pops the collar of her jacket, so it resembles a trench coat, puts her hair into a bun and wears a white fedora, so she basically resembles Carmen Sandiego. Very calm, pensive and analytical, and all about the academia aesthetic, acting like a hardcore and grizzled detective. Also a massive sucker for suckers.

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I have a feeling that you would enjoy this talentswap, considering this is one of your dream careers! Let me know what you think of this swap!

-Fusion Anon

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ivebeentolddreamingsfree · 3 years

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4 I've Been Told Dreaming's Free

Chapter Four

Charlotte lets Stone talk her into going out again

Charlotte’s grandmother gifted her a scarf and hat three Christmases ago. They were handmade of a tight gauge knit in white with pink and teal Christmas trees on each end of the scarf. The same trees decorated the beanie hat which also had a pink pom-pom on it. She took them down from the top shelf of her closet and put them on to walk to the store.

The weather had turned over the last week. They were getting more rain and the temperatures hovered in the forties.

Charlotte huddled near the radiator as she applied price stickers to packs of drumsticks. The store was empty and she hummed to herself. When she finished the drumsticks, she was going to start cramming for her economics midterm. Inwardly, she sighed when the door opened. So much for cramming.

“Hey, Chuck!” Stone.

She wheeled around. “What?”

He came in and sat down on a drum stool, immediately turning it from side to side. “I haven’t seen you in over a week and all I get is a ‘what?’”

“Yeah. That’s all you get. What are you even doing here, anyway?”

“What do you mean? Hey, cool scarf and hat!”

“Last time I saw you, you were making fun of me with Xana. Kinda like you’re doing right now.” She pulled her beanie off and stashed it under the counter.

“No, I wasn’t! I’m not making fun of you!”

“I saw you! You were whispering and laughing.”

“I wasn’t making fun of you, Chuck.”

“Whatever. I have to study.” She tried to turn her attention back to her book.

“What are you doing Friday? It’s Halloween.”

“Studying.”

“No way! You have to come out.”

“Your friends don’t like me, Stone. I mean I poured beer all over that guy, Jerry. Xana doesn’t like me.”

“Wait, you did what?”

“It was an accident. Someone pushed me and I spilled beer on him.”

“When?”

“That night. I was trying to leave and he was right there and,” she mimed pouring out a can of beer. “Oops.”

“So? Forget it. Just come out. I’ll come and get you.”

She gave him a look.

“Come on! It’s a costume party at the Central. We’re playing. You have to come.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Chuck,” Stone whined.

“Stone!”

“Please?”

“I don’t have a costume.”

“So what? Just throw on anything.”

Charlotte sighed. “If I say yes, will you leave and let me study?”

“Yes!”

She watched after him as he practically bounced out the door. In a way, Charlotte was thankful to Stone for insisting she come out again.

On Friday night, she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her costume. There was no fucking way she was going to let Xana make fun of her again. Charlotte wore a red leotard and cape, a red ribbon tied around her neck, bright red lipstick, and devil horns. She bought a pair of red fishnet thigh-highs and made small rips in them and then put on her 14-eye Docs. She also got a small plastic red pitchfork with the devil’s horns hairband.

At 10:09, Stone knocked on her door.

“You’re late!” She announced as she opened it.

Stone’s mouth dropped as he looked her up and down.

“Well, what are you supposed to be?”

“I, uh, I …I’m, uh …a funeral director.” He wore a bad pair of brown polyester pants and a wide brown tie.

“What?” Charlotte laughed.

“Yeah, you know, dearly departed and all that.”

“Ooo-kay.”

In Stone’s beat-up, little station wagon, Charlotte clutched her leather jacket around herself and wished she grabbed her scarf and hat, too. “Doesn’t the heat work in this thing?”

“Of course it does. It’s all the way up.” Stone reached over and fiddled with a knob and lever on the dashboard.

“It’s all the way up?” Charlotte frowned.

He parked the car a block away and held Charlotte’s hand as they weaved through the groups of people that had trickled out of the Central. Charlotte saw a lot of witches, zombie brides, and Batmans before they entered the bar. Inside there were several vampires and Satanic nuns. But thankfully, Charlotte did not see any other sexy devils. Except maybe one.

On the stage, Jerry stood out in his pink sweater and poodle skirt, and baby blue Converse high-tops.

Charlotte giggled despite herself. “Is Jerry wearing a skirt?”

“Oh.” Stone frowned as he followed Charlotte’s gaze. “Yeah, I’m not even sure that’s a Halloween costume for him.”

She watched Alice In Chains play again, this time very aware of Stone standing beside her. Charlotte made sure to keep her face neutral.

By the time Mother Love Bone began their set, Charlotte was getting the hang of drinking beer. She finished a bottle of Heineken and asked for another. Nobody bothered to check her ID. As she started to turn away from the bar, she realized she had nudged someone to her right.

“Sorry!” She yelled.

“It’s okay,” the person yelled back. “You didn’t spill any on me this time.”

#bandfic #fanfic #i've been told dreaming's free #pearl jam #mother love bone #stone gossard #alice in chains #jerry cantrell

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years

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Girls Just Want to Have Fun

It’s always fun jumping into a movie I know next to nothing about, and this requested review for Wes will be no exception. All I know is that Girls Just Want to Have Fun is an 80s teen romp with the worst photoshopped cover photo I’ve ever seen. It looks like Michael Scott put it together. I know it stars girls, AND I know what those girls want. That’s half your narrative battle right there. So do they achieve the fun they seek? Well...

They do! A lot of weird shit happens along the way, but yeah, fun is had and that’s all that really matters. God, 1985 was a simpler time. I mean, I know everyone was living in constant fear that the Russians were going to invade Kansas and we’d be faced with a neverending nuclear winter, but in the face of all that existential terror you also get movies where the entire pitch is “So there’s this girl (Sarah Jessica Parker) who wants to be a dancer on tv, but her parents don’t want to let her. But she does it anyway! And her partner is chosen for her and, boy, they do not see eye to eye. But then they do! And they have to practice a lot. And then they win the dance contest!”

You know some studio exec heard that and screamed at his secretary to hold his calls for the day so he could sign the contracts and then do a mountain of blow off them.

Some thoughts:

It’s so weird to see Sarah Jessica Parker without curly hair! I was never a Sex and the City fan, so my exposure to SJP is purely Hocus Pocus based.

This dance sequence over the credits is incredible. Why do we not have shows anymore that are just a large group of young attractive people dancing in sync? No host, no dialogue, just the power of dance. I was born in the wrong decade. I would have appreciated the shit out of the 80s when I was alive.

Poor Helen Hunt - she must be one of those people who always looked like she was 35, even in high school. Granted, she was 22 when this was filmed and she’s playing a teenager, but still.

Helen Hunt is wearing dinosaurs in her hair. 80s fashion was on a wavelength that I don’t think any of us living will ever see again.

Omg this rich bitch (Natalie, I guess? She’s not named for at least the first 30 min of the movie) had Claire’s closet from Clueless 10 years before the movie existed! This is already groundbreaking.

NOW SHE HAS A BUG ON HER HAT. A big plastic green grasshopper. This review is mainly going to be about the insane things Lynne (Helen Hunt) wears.

Speaking of - I’m getting big lesbian vibes from Lynne Stone and I am so here for it. The homoerotic tension when she acts like she’s gonna fight the rich bitch? Delicious. The immediate intimate connection she makes with SJP? Practically U-Hauling.

I love an 80s dance montage, and this movie promises to contain basically nothing but that tied loosely together with some nonsensical dialogue in between. This is gonna be my new favorite movie.

Ooh Nestle Quik syrup! I forgot about Nestle Quik.

Favorite line: “There is a time and a place for calypso music, young lady.”

Ohhh I see what this is gonna be - Janey (SJP) is a classically trained dancer and gymnast, and Jeff (Lee Montgomery) is more of a rough and tumble music video kinda guy from the streets. You can tell cause he’s got a motorcycle and a leather jacket. And he wears cutoff sleeves! He’s a white guy in Chicago, who could be more street than that? And they’re butting heads! How will they ever be able to make it work for the big dance contest??

How did Natalie know Janey’s phone number? She specifically said it was unlisted. Unless she remembers it from overhearing it offhand after the dance tryouts...? That’s insane, I can’t even remember what I wore yesterday let alone a 7-digit number someone shouted in a crowd.

Lynne Fashion Alert: Is she wearing a belt made out of bullets? And a Davy Crocket hat. This is galaxy brain lesbian fashion. If the costume designer for this movie didn’t win 10 Oscars...

The music director on the other hand...not sure what is up with all these weird KidzBop covers of excellent songs like “Dancing in the Street” or the titular “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” but if you’re gonna include them, you gotta spring for the originals. This is just sad.

I’ve never been at a party with an ice sculpture. I think that’s how you know you’re among the rich.

Whatever happened to Jonathan Silverman? I miss when he was the nebbishy sidekick in every 80s movie.

Who enters a party by catapulting through the damn window?? Punk does not mean that you no longer know how to use doors, sir!

Who serves a full roasted turkey at a party? Is this how rich people live? This feels like the equivalent of using Google translate to identify rich people food in another language, then translating it back to English.

Lynne Fashion Alert: Now I think she has space shuttles in her hair.

Wow we got a real 1-2 punch of sexual harassment in this club. Who wrote this Tune in Tokyo gag and was like “You know what would be hilarious? If this shitty little nerd convinced this girl to raise her arms so he can just grab her boobs full on, front and center. And then she gets upset and runs away. God I’m good at this *snorts another line*”

Lynne Fashion Alert: Now it’s two globes (like, two Earths) with crab claws on them? This is a choice that I don’t understand, but I think I may just not be seeing what it is clearly. I am digging her mirror sunglasses though.

I know Janey is smart but when did she learn how to hotwire a security system? It’s not like Google or Youtube existed, and I doubt there was a library book about how to dismantle that specific system. MYTH BUSTED.

Oh god oh no I’m so gay for these Dixon sisters from Kansas City, these two gorgeous black women in tuxes and spandex leotards. They 100% should have won this dance contest.

Why did guys stop wearing crop tops? Can we bring back slutty quarterback as a fashion trend for dudes? Seriously, the costume design here is everything.

I really love Jeff and his little family - his sister and his dad are so proud of him and supportive. You never see that in dance narratives featuring guys. I like the reversal here of gendered expectations.

Did I Cry? No, but my heart was warmed at various moments.

Honestly, why can’t more narrative arcs in movies be solved via dance battle?

Lynne Fashion Alert: She’s now dressed as...Cleopatra? Wait why the fuck is there a horse here?

Oh that’s it that’s the end! Man, you can’t be mad at a tight 90 min film like this - it gets in, it gets out, bing bang boom you’re done with enough time to read before bed.

Is this a cinematic masterpiece? No. But is it good clean fun? Absolutely. Barring the brief [obligatory 80s] sexual harassment scene, there’s very little to be upset with here. Kids wanna dance, they’re told they can’t dance, they dance anyway! It’s the power of dance! You’re either into it or you’re not, but if you’re not, I ask that you search your heart and try to find one teeny tiny sliver of joy inside it. You’re gonna need to feed that joy if you wanna make it through 2021, and watching this movie is a darn good place to start.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #girls just want to have fun #sarah jessica parker #helen hunt #lee montgomery #movie reviews #film reviews #patreon review

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goggles-mcgee · 5 years

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A Little Birdy Told Me

Based off the AU by @ozmav , and inspired by @particularlygeeky ! I love Lizzie okay and i love her fic Little Ladybird.

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Summary

Marinette is dealing with knowing Adrien is Chat while on the school trip to Gotham, while also having to deal with more of Lila's lies. It wasn't enough to turn everyone against her she guessed, apparently Lila was set on making sure Marinette felt no happiness. But Marinette makes friends in Gotham, friends that are willing to throw down for her. Out of all things she could have guessed would happen on this trip, falling in love was not one of them. She also didn't expect to reveal her identity to the Batfamily, she also didn't expect to find out their identities either.

Meanwhile Adrien is trying to figure out how to make Marinette his finally, one way or another.

Notes:

I know what some of you are thinking, Goggles why the hell did you start another fic when you got so many going on????? My answer: I'm weak to a cute ship. I am very very weak.

I hope you guys enjoy!

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It was dark out already and everyone knew not to stay out at night in Gotham, even tourists, but here Marinette was walking aimlessly, trying to find the hotel her and her class were staying at. It didn’t help that her phone had died an hour ago after her following the directions displayed back to the hotel, she hadn’t noticed how low her battery had been so she had kept the app open, she was still hours away, if she had to guess. She knew this trip wouldn’t be great but she had held onto the hope that everyone would be preoccupied with the new place enough to leave her alone, but she had been wrong. Somehow Lila had convinced everyone to leave the hotel earlier than they had planned, of course the day Marinette is early is the day they ditch her at the hotel. She decided to try and catch up with them by taking a taxi but she underestimated just how slow and hectic traffic could be, by the time she got to Wayne Tower she was told that her class had already toured most of the tower but that they would be on one of the upper floors. So she raced up to where they were only to see them get into the elevator, then she ran all the way back downstairs as fast as she could, but at that point she had been so tired that she just couldn’t catch up. The sight of everyone getting in the bus filled Marinette with such relief, she could catch up to them, she yelled out to her teacher who was the last one to get on the bus but it seemed like she didn’t hear her and the bus was quick to take off.

Marinette had just stood there watching the bus drive off in disbelief. She had shouted, her teacher had to have heard her, right? Then why did they leave her again? Especially in Gotham! The Class President had put a whole presentation together on Gotham, especially about the crime and the curfew that they should stick to considering they were tourists. That’s specifically why she pushed so hard to book a hotel near the Wayne Botanical Garden instead of the one near Crime Alley like Principal Damocles wanted them to stay at.

Needless to say she was on edge as she walked, her feet were killing her and she had a migraine, she definitely didn’t think she could try and grab another cab when it had taken her so long to get one earlier. At least Tikki and Kaalki were with her, she wanted to just transform into Ladybug but what if someone saw? Ladybug couldn’t be seen in Gotham, not yet anyways, and she would have asked Kaalki to open a portal for her but she didn’t have anymore sugar cubes to give to the kwami. Eventually, everything just got too much and she stopped in the middle of the alley she had been taking as a short cut and sat down, she couldn’t stop the tears that ran down her face, nor could she hold back her sobs.

She was…she was just so exhausted. With everything, with school, with Hawkmoth, with everyone basically, and she was fed up with not getting to cry, so she let herself do just that, just to get rid of all the pent up emotions that swirled dangerously inside her. Her heart ached, her throat was starting to feel sore from her sobbing, and her lungs begged for more air, but she didn’t care.

“It’s coming from over here Pam-a-lamb!” A voice said from somewhere behind her in the alley, it had a slight accent but she couldn’t place it. That was beside the point, someone was approaching and she didn’t know I’d they were friend or for so she slowly pushed herself up and tried to stop crying but that didn’t really work, if anything it made it worse.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Another voice said, this one was softer. Great there was two of them! She needed to say something anything, but her voice wouldn’t come out, she realized it was even hard to breathe. She couldn’t breathe! She needed to breath!

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re okay doll, everything is okay. Can you breathe with me?” The first voice asked, Marinette looked up when she felt one of her hands grabbed, she flinched and tried to tug her hand away but the person had a good grip. They placed her hand on their chest and breathed slowly. In, and out. In, and out. She soon found herself copying the breathing, she finally got control of her tears and blinked the rest away so she could see things other than colorful blobs.

“You’re doing great!” The woman who had placed her hand on her chest said, she finally got a good look at her, she was blonde from what she could see under the red and black jester-like hat, she had white face paint with a black and red mask over her eyes, pink blush stood out among the face paint. Her outfit seemed to follow the black and red theme with a collared shirt jumper over a leotard that went and disappeared into boots. Marinette could feel the leather of the gloves that held her hand. The other woman had vibrant red hair, her skin had a green hue to it, her clothes seemed to be coming from her, like she grew them. The top was white, it looked like it had veins, almost like flower petals, vines act as a belt while her pants seemed to be made of leaves.

Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, she recognized them from her research on the city. She knew that they were rogues, sometimes antiheros, it really depended on the day of the week it seemed, with how they were acting she was hoping they were feeling more antihero.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” Ivy asked as she pet Marinette’s hair, the girl couldn’t help but lean into the gentle touch, sure she got a lot of physical affection from her parents, but they weren’t here and she soaked up whatever comfort she could get.

“I-I…it’s just been a really long day.” Marinette stuttered out before she launched into a full explanation of the day she had been having, she did her best to not break out in tears again, she surprisingly was able to do that, she chalked it up to the fact that Harley was sitting by her and a had a hand around her shoulders while Ivy held her hand. As she explained she completely missed the two women exchange looks of rage at what they were hearing.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that my pet,” Ivy said in a soft voice as she stood up and helped Marinette up, “would you like us to take you to the police station?”

Marinette shook her head with wide eyes. She really didn’t need to give her classmates more fuel to add to add to their dumpster fire of secrets and ridicule of her. “I’m sure things will be better tomorrow, but uh, can you help me back to my hotel? My phone was giving me directions, but it died.”

“Of course, Doll! Where you stayin’?” Harley asked as she and Ivy walked on either side of Marinette, Harley still had her arm around Marinette’s shoulder, but the girl really didn’t mind, she felt comfortable with them, which really surprised her, but she knew the two weren’t anything like Joker or any other villain, they were more like Luka when he became Silencer. That reminded her that she was supposed to call him and Kagami to tell them about her first day in Gotham.

“At Gotham Grandeur.”

“You would have been walking for hours! How could they do that, don’t they know how dangerous Gotham can be?” Seethed Ivy, orange lilies started to bloom in her hair and thorns seemed to protrude from her vine belt.

“I covered that in my presentation on Gotham weeks before we left, I wanted to have all bases covered, I mean it is my responsibility of class president…but I guess my teacher forgot or something.” She lamented, the ‘or intentionally forgot,’ remained unspoken. “That’s just my luck really but I guess Lady Luck decided to grant me some luck today! Afterall I got to meet you guys!”

The two rogues smiled down at her and she smiled back, more genuinely than she had in a long time. She smiled more when Ivy asked if she would be okay if they traveled with her vines on the rooftops, she claimed it would be much faster and she said it would be safer for Marinette. Really, she had no problem with it, especially when some of the vines held her carefully when they jumped over to another building, kind of like a seatbelt. The thought made her giggle. It took them awhile but eventually Marinette was back at the hotel, she could see some of her classmates hanging out in the lobby, making her freeze, she really didn’t have the energy to deal with them if they noticed her.

Apparently, Ivy and her vines felt Marinette freeze up. “Are you okay sweetie?”

“Um, well, my classmates are in the lobby, and well we don’t exactly get along. I just really don’t want them to see me.” Marinette explained in a hurry as she tried to hide herself behind Ivy and Harley when Adrien turned to look outside, she couldn’t see him so she hoped he couldn’t see her.

“Do you remember which room is yours?” Harley asked, her voice was cheerful, but Marinette could hear the slight fakeness to it.

“Room 7021. Mine has a balcony…” She said, she felt the vines grab her once more before they lifted her to the seventh floor, right at her balcony, which thankfully she didn’t lock the door to her room when she had stepped out to take a look at the city and the gardens they were near. “Thank you so much, for everything. Oh, wait here!”

Marinette rushed into her room and opened up the box that she had wrapped in some clothes and took out two macarons. Her parents had sent her with an assortment of them that way she had something to remind her that they loved her. Also so she could have a taste of home while she was out in an unfamiliar place. She quickly made her way to the two women who were leaning against the rails of her balcony. They smiled when she came back and she easily returned their smiles as she handed each of them a lemon raspberry macaron.

“As a thank you.”

“Doll you didn’t have to!” Harley squealed out before she immediately stuffed the macaron in her mouth.

Ivy chuckled and smiled fondly at her clown, “She’s right, but thanks all the same…uh?”

“Oh my god, I didn’t tell you guys my name. I’m Marinette!”

“Thank you Mari-gold, it was nice to meet you dear, we’ll leave you so you can rest.” Ivy said as she nudged Harley with her shoulder, Harley nodded before picking up Marinette in a big hug.

“Hope to see you again, Doll!”

“Me too!” Marinette giggled. She watched as they left, and for the first time in a long time she went to bed not feeling dread about tomorrow. She really hoped she got to see them again. Hopefully she would, but she was really excited for their tour tomorrow, they were going to be going back to Wayne Tower and she was excited to actually tour the place with no rush.

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

Ivy and Harley took a break on a roof, still close to Marinette’s hotel. Ivy was barely holding in the urge to cover the whole hotel in her vines and letting them have a couple snacks, but she took deep breaths to quell the tempting thought. Harley was doing no better as she swung her mallet around to relieve some stress.

“They left her to fend for herself, Red…That’s just, that’s just wrong!” Harley yelled out as she paced back and forth on the roof.

“I know, Love, I’m not exactly happy about it either. She was such a sweetheart; I don’t see how they could forget about her like that.”

“I think something is going on with her and that class of hers.” Harley grumbled out as she came to stand with Ivy at the edge of the building. “Every time she mentioned them, she would curl in on herself, like she was trying to make herself seem smaller. That’s not okay. And the way she described being left behind? Yeah that was a load of baloney.”

“You think they left her on purpose?” Ivy asked, she really hoped Harley was wrong.

“I think we might need to seek out the Bat just so he can be on the look out just in case they “forget” her again.” Harley said with a frown as she stared off in the direction of the hotel they had just come from. Ivy really didn’t want to have to talk to the Bat but arley was right, it would be the smartest thing to do for Mari-gold.

___________________________

Bugs Before Hugs @immagothamitetermite

#onlyingotham I swear I just saw Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy on some rooftops with a teenage girl, it could also be the Red bull and coffee taking effect though. #essayduetomorrow #killmemydudes #thatsnotaninvitationroguesisweartogod

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cashmierathoughts · 3 years

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Red Light Special

RED LIGHT SPEACIAL (Short Story)

Allow me to preface this by saying, I’d never done coke before and I’d never kissed another woman before last night...

It was the end of the year and I let my roommate convince me to go out with her and her eccentric friends. I asked where to and all Maxine said was that we’d probably hit Deep Ellum and then a friends’ after set. It sounded like Max’s normal Monday through Saturday night to me; we have a strict policy on going out on Sunday nights, we don’t. We party during the day on Sundays and although I don’t get out nearly as much as her, I make it a point to participate in what we like to call “Sunday Funday”.

One of Max’s homegirls, Sam, owned a bar and was our liquor plug. She came over around seven and immediately started pouring drinks while Max and I were still getting dressed. I finished dressing before Max so I joined Sam in the kitchen for drinks. I prefer a cocktail over a shot simply because I have the worst gag reflex in all of Mesquite but Sam could care less; if she was pouring, it was shots for everyone. I took one or two or four and started rolling up. I was the only stoner in the group and I was thankful for that. Max finished getting dressed after changing a million times and then we headed out.

We hit a few bars and that’s when shit got interesting. Sam, Max, and I were leaving downtown and headed to one of Max’s friends’ house when he called her and gave her directions to a different party. By this time, I was feeling all ten shots of whatever was clear and strong and the choice to smoke backfired. Instead of mellowing me out, the weed started smoking me! I was in the backseat having the dizziest most carefree time of my life as I grinded and twerked on the leather interior of Max’s beamer.

Her car came to an abrupt halt and she lowered the music and called the mystery friend back.

“Hey, we’re outside. What’s the phrase again? Okay. Here we come.”

What phrase was she talking about? Looking back, that should have been my first clue that some unusual shit was about to happen.

We parked and walked up to a building no bigger than Starbucks and were approached by a lady wearing fishnets and a leotard. She took our phones, gave us a locker key with the number 86 written on it, then led us to the basement of the building. I could hear low music thudding through the walls as we got closer to our destination. When we got downstairs I knew exactly where we were. Max was a frequent flyer here.

The room was sectioned off by different colored lights. There was a red, blue, purple, and green room.

I quickly observed that I was indeed at a swingers’ party.

My hands were clammy and I could feel myself sobering up. I had two options: either I was going to drink and smoke my way back to zen or I was going to catch a Lyft back home. There was no way Max and Sam were leaving and I wouldn’t dare ask. Fuck, I should have driven.

I stuck close by Max like white on rice. We went in the green room first. I was attracted to it for two important reasons. One being that green is my favorite color and the other is that the closer we got to the green light, I could see marijuana shrubs. It was literally a green room. The shrubs were the least of the most visually captivating things happening in that room. Did I mention that we were clearly overdressed for the occasion? Women were either in lace and satin lingerie or nothing at all. The men were mostly clothed in cigar robes, if anything at all. I was extremely intimidated.

I pulled on Max’s arm, “Girl why you ain’t tell me you was on this tonight? You know I don’t even be with the shits.”

To be honest, I was too intrigued to be maintain an attitude. There was so much to see.

A bold black hand with an even bolder wedding band reached my way and passed me an unsolicited blunt. I looked to see who the hand belonged to but I didn’t know that man. He was barely making eye contact with me; probably because his other hand was between the thighs of some woman and his tongue was down her throat. I had no choice but to take the blunt or let him pass it to Casper and set the whole building on fire. I hit the blunt and leaned up against a small space on the wall, hoping to evaporate into the drywall. The weed was damn good. I felt relaxed immediately and then my mind got to wandering.

I looked around and noticed that my friend who shared the blunt with me wasn’t the only person on the verge of fucking in that room. In fact, there were people actually fucking in that room. I was starting to blush. The weed was making me horny too. I hit it some more and then stared at a couple in front of me go at it. I watched as his penis moved strategically in and out of some lady’s vagina. She had on a wedding band, he didn’t. I could feel my head tilt as I gazed at them and wondered when I’d feel raw dick again…

I was brought back to my senses when I felt a small hand grab mine. It was Max.

She took me across the hall to a different room. The red room. Sam was sitting on a sofa topless with her shirt saving one seat for Max and her clutch saving one for me. I’d seen Sam’s breasts more than plenty times before so I wasn’t as shocked as I should have been, plus, did I mention that weed was really, really strong?

We both plopped down on the couch and at that moment, I realized how fucked up I was. The room started spinning and my first thought was to focus all my energy and attention on not seeming as fucked up as I was. So when Max and Sam were talking to me, I was telling my drunk self to not look drunk and I missed everything they said. I only remember nodding yes to them and saying, “Daammmn, that’s crazy” at the end. Go figure.

A light skinned, middle aged man with a beer gut and premature penis walked buck naked toward us and stopped. He never made eye contact with any of us. He just stood there and looked at Sam’s boobs. The weed had me stuck like chuck. I couldn’t strum up a good cuss out for the nigga. Sam started to rub on her breasts and put on a show for the stranger. She caressed them and in return, the preemie penis grew into a pretty decent half chub. Like I said earlier, the weed from the green room made me super horny. Pheromones were flying blindly all throughout that room and I was caught in its crossfire.

Max leaned behind Sam to get my attention and disrupted my show.

“Come sit down here.”

I went.

“Ex-squeeze me...” I slid over Sam and sat in between her and Max.

Max got her palm mirror and Big C out. Her night was just beginning while mine, on the other hand, was heading towards its end.

She leaned over and asked, “Want some?”

I gave her that look you give someone when they know the answer to some unbelievable shit they just asked or brought up. I like my drugs and I don’t judge, but the Big C, ain’t fo me... or so I thought. Before I could turn Max down, I saw a drink being shoved in my face. A woman in red latex chaps with her ass completely bare and titties to match was passing out drinks. I took the one she gave me and handed it to Max, who then shoved it right back in my face and urged me to drink.

It didn’t take much convincing on her end. I downed something that I could only guess was some version of a cognac and coke. I was still feeling drowsy. Without even asking, I grabbed Max’s mirror and went to town. As I dragged my nose across the cold and shiny pallet, I instantly regretted my sudden act of bad-assery. Thinking back, the shit was completely unnecessary.

When I came up and looked around, I expected to immediately feel wiry and freakishly energized. I didn’t. A grinning Max pulled my face close to hers and gave me a sloppy and unsolicited kiss on the cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut when she did this and when I opened them, I saw the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in real life. She was leaning on the bar wearing a designer birthday suit and stiletto heels. Max was talking a mile a minute in my ear about how she got stood up tonight and how she wanted to go home, but for some reason now, I wasn’t in such a rush.

“Dammnn, that’s crazy.” I managed to mutter.

Our naked friend in the red chaps returned to our end of the couch with a single glass of champagne. She handed it to me then walked away, leaving a squeaking sound trailing behind her. The woman at the bar intentionally caught my eye this time and raised a glass identical to mine in the air. I matched the energy and went over to talk to her.

That’s when Big C kicked in. I could feel myself tweaking. Almost as if I had a tick. I took a huge gulp of champagne to calm my nerves and the closer I got to the bar, the more confident I grew. She was a little taller than me, had a cinnamon skin tone and almond eyes to match; older too. Said her name was Amber. I think she lied. Hell, I lied.

I quickly learned that this wasn’t the type of place where there was much talking being done. I looked back at the couch for some reassurance and saw that Sam was getting her ass eaten on the sofa while Max was headed towards a curtained room with some couple sharing a satin pajama set. The man had on the bottoms and the woman had on the button down top to match, only she purposely left several buttons open, leaving her breasts nude and exposed.

Amber asked me to join her behind a curtain of our own.

I did.

“How old are you?”

I hesitated. My heart was racing, my thoughts were loud, my body was doing things I didn’t authorize it to do, and that damn twitch was back, which was so unfucking-becoming of me.

“Twenty-three.”

Amber scoffed and said, “Old enough”.

We went behind the curtain and started to kiss. They started off as soft, hesitant kisses. She removed the straps from my shirt and let them hang lazily on my shoulders and I felt something cold graze my skin.

A FAT ASS DIAMOND. She was married too.

I didn’t say anything and I’d hoped that she didn’t notice me noticing her ring. Our once childish pecks were now maturing into heavy Frenching. Kissing a woman felt more natural than I thought it would. Her tongue danced with mine and we took turns leading. Amber leaned me back and started to give my nipple piercing attention with the tip of her tongue.

“Just one?’, she laughed.

“I bitched out. The shit hurts!” I laughed back.

I didn’t know what she expected to happen next. I was new to this, definitely not true to it and I didn’t care how fucked up I felt, there was no way I could dine on vagina. I just won’t.

My thoughts were dismantled when I felt her cool hand creep up the inside of my thigh. I trembled and could feel my pussy slightly gush. She moved my panties to the side and slowly rubbed two fingers back and forth. I could feel the grooves in her acrylic against my vulva as she applied the right amounts of pressure on my clit and the extra tension turned me on. I let out a soft moan and felt my thighs getting wet.

Amber removed her fingers from inside of me and placed them in her mouth. My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe any of this was actually happening and had I not woken up with the worst hangover of my life this morning and a stamp from Deep Ellum, I wouldn’t have.

When she took her fingers out of her mouth, she spit out her wedding ring and put it on the tip of her index finger. She removed my panties completely and started tasting me. I felt something cold massaging my clit in sync with her tongue. It went back and forth. I could feel her soft lips kiss and slurp. My body convulsed and I let out what I tried to maintain as the most excruciating quiet noise of arrival.

I was delirious.

Amber sat up, wiped her face with her palm, and kissed me. I felt something sharp touch my lip when they touched. I opened my eyes and Amber spit out her wedding ring and whispered, “Bye, Riley.”

She got up and headed towards the curtain and disappeared back into the dark red room.

THE END

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empyreanwritings · 4 years

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Their Girl, Part 2

“Goodbye!” The little girl waved back at her, her little pink practice skirt sticking out from under her jacket while her dance bag dragged along the ground. Her dad, holding her hand, always turned around and waved.

With a large sigh, she closed the door and turned off the lights in the lobby. She headed back to the office and checked her phone. There was a message in the group chat from Steve asking when she would be home. She sent back that her last student had left and she would be on the way in a few minutes. Immediately Bucky asked her which she preferred: chicken parmigiana or chicken carbonara.

While she was answering the message, she heard the door open. Setting down her phone she called out, “I’m sorry but we’re closed for the night. Please come back tomorrow!”

There was no answer from the front of the dance studio but she could hear footsteps approaching. She walked out of her office and felt her blood run cold. About 10 feet in front of her stood Brock Rumlow.

“What are you doing here Rumlow?” Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it against her ribs. She and the boys had gone to great lengths to protect the dance studio. The only people besides Steve and Bucky who knew her full name were Sam and Nat.

His first response was to smirk at her, shoving his hands into his pocket. “I just thought I’d take a chance to talk to you without a bunch of muscles lurking. You know, I can do more for you than either Rogers or Barnes.”

She rolled her eyes before crossing her arms. Brock’s eyes slid across her body making her feel disgusting. After all, she was still in her leotard, tights, and long practice skirt. She felt more exposed than she had at the club.

“I already told you the other day, I’m not interested Rumlow.” She rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow. “I think Bucky and Steve made it clear if you want to keep doing business with them you need to leave me alone. Now leave while I’m still asking politely.”

She turned around and headed back towards her office. Behind her, she heard movement following her. She let out a big sigh, this would be so much easier if someone else was around, not that she couldn’t handle herself. Steve and Bucky had signed her up for krav maga when they got serious about dating. But the accident that ended her ballet career had permanently weakened her leg and made her more prone to injuries.

“Now, that’s being kind of rude. You wouldn’t want to start a war between HYDRA and the Commandos would you?” Brock walked up right behind her as she was grabbing her things off her desk. Before she knew it, his arms were bracketing her and his breath tickled the back of her neck.

“Hey, asshole! Get away from her!” Gamora’s voice rang out from behind the pair of them. Brock immediately backed away. She had never been more glad to see Gamora’s bright green and pink hair, nor the custom chrome-plated gun she carried. Behind her stood Quill, his red leather jacket blending into the darkness and customary headphones were perched around his neck.

“Whatever, I’ll see you around Cassi.” Brock smirked, pushing his way through Quill and Gamora. Quill squeezed Gamora’s hand before following Rumlow out of the studio to make sure he actually left. Gamora stared after him for a second before walking into the office to approach Cassi.

“You okay?” Gamora gently placed a hand on Cassi’s shoulder. Cassi nodded, sighing and leaning against the desk with her arms folded across her chest. “Let’s pack up your stuff and get going.”

“Did Steve and Bucky send you guys?” Cassi placed her phone into her backpack before pulling on an oversized pink cardigan.

Gamora chuckled. “Actually no. We just had good timing. I wanted to sign up Neb for ballet classes but you know Quill, he spent too long working on his hair so we were running late. But then the lights were on so we came in. Lucky we did but honestly, we had no idea that you even owned the studio.”

Cassi changed as she listened to Gamora: she pulled her hair out of the tight bun on the top of her head, instead pulling it into a loose ponytail, and slipped a pair of black joggers before taking her long dance skirt off. She shoved the skirt and black dance shoes into her backpack.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep that fact a secret.” Cassi slid on a pair of black sneakers as she spoke.

Gamora nodded, “That’s not a problem. We can enroll Neb at a different dance school if it makes you feel better.”

“Naw,” Cassi waved a hand as she led Gamora out of the office and headed towards the lobby, turning off lights as they went. “Nebula’s a good girl. I’d be happy to teach her.”

Gamora and Quill stayed with Cassi as she closed up the dance school and gave her a ride back to the apartment she shared with Steve and Bucky.

They watched as she entered the building before leaving to go pick up Nebula from her “Poppa Yondu.”

Cassi took the elevator up and paused outside the apartment. She knew she needed to talk to Steve and Bucky about what happened. But that was one conversation she was not in the mood to have.

Submitted by: obsessedwithpandas

#mob monday #stucky x oc #steve x oc x bucky #submission #mob!steve #mob!bucky

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whattimeisitintokyo · 4 years

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Somos Familia Ch 38 Birthday Eve

Tomorrow is my birthday, so now I can relax knowing I got this GD chapter out! Hallelujah!

------

“Hola, Coco.” Miguel said happily, leaning in to give his sister a kiss on the cheek.

Coco smiled as she tilted her head to accept it. “How are you, Miguel?”

“Good, now that school is out.”

“Are you excited about your birthday tomorrow?”

“No.”

With a small sigh Coco shook her head and pointed a thumb to the back of the house. “Well go on to your little club meeting then. I’ll ring Papá and tell him you’re over here. You know how he worries.”

Miguel rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

“Don’t forget the Cokes!”

“Gracias, Coco!” Miguel grabbed two ice cold bottles out of the refrigerator and raced to Victoria’s bedroom upstairs, taking two steps at a time.

Over the years Coco’s house had become a sort of safe haven for Miguel to spend his free time. Yes, he had friends at school that he could hang out with, but nothing compared to how stress-free, homey and normal Coco’s house was. A spacious yet modest colonial style home built near the town’s border, it was the perfect place where Miguel could relax and actually be himself with no fear of his love of music being discovered by his parents.

Never really understanding his father’s unwavering stand on having no music listened to or played in his vicinity, Miguel was forced to keep his passions to himself until his older sister took pity on him and let him listen to dozens of records from her own private collection. He was also joined by his niece Victoria, and their shared secret hobby had led them to becoming each other’s best friend.

His smile faded as he reached the door when he saw another little girl standing in a huff in front of it, her face blotchy from having been crying, and she threw him a hard glare. With a stomp of her foot, she pointed at the door. “Tío, make her open up!”

“You’re not coming in here, Elena!” Victoria’s angry voice called out from the other side. “Get out of the way so Miguel can get through!”

Elena whined and hopped up and down. “Why does he get to come in and not me?!”

“Because he didn’t feed my tutu to your stupid goat!”

“Diego is not stupid! And I didn’t feed it to him, you just left it out!” Hands on her hips, she smiled smugly. “Besides you deserve it. If Abuelito knew that you were dancing he’d be mad at you. Maybe even hate you!”

Not liking how that line in particular made him feel, as well as not wanting to waste anymore time, Miguel held one of the Cokes out to Elena. “Here Elenita. Have a Coke.”

As her eyes settled on the bottle, Elena gasped in delight and reached for it. “Gracias tío!” Tilting it back and taking three large, refreshing gulps, she sighed in satisfaction. “Ahh, delicio-”

*SLAM!*

“HEY!”

Locking the door behind him as Miguel managed to zip inside, Victoria laughed and leaned against it while Elena kicked and yelled from the other side. She was already clad in her leotard and pointe shoes, but sans tutu of course. She nodded approvingly at Miguel. “Very clever Miguel. I’m impressed.”

Miguel chuckled and set the remaining bottle down. “Not that clever. Now we have to share one.”

“I know what you’re doing in there!” Elena screamed at them. “You’re dancing and playing music! Abuelito hates music! I’m gonna tell on you!”

“That’s only when Abuelito’s around, estupida! Mamá says we can do whatever we want with music as long as he’s not here, so you’re not allowed to tell!” Victoria crossed her arms and smiled smugly. “You’re just jealous because your legs are too short and fat to even walk, let alone try to dance.”

There was a moment of silence, before the sound of quick footfalls flying down the hallway and the piercing cry of “Mamá!” echoing off the walls let them know that they were finally alone. For now.

Miguel pulled his guitar out from underneath Victoria’s wardrobe, smiling reverently and brushing his fingers lightly against the crudely drawn skull on the stock. It was an old thing, the wood worn and splintering slightly along the edges despite how much gold paint he had slathered all over it. Limited artistic abilities aside he was quite pleased with how much he made it to look like Ernesto de la Cruz’s famous golden guitar. He just needed to get a Sharpie or something to draw in the final details. It wasn’t the best guitar in the world, but he was too scared to buy a brand new one. The fear of Papá somehow finding out kept him from doing so.

It could be worse though. It could have been a guitar made from scraps, screws and nails.

“So what do you want me to play?” Miguel asked as he tuned the strings to perfection. “Lago de los Cisnes again? Ooh, or maybe El Cascanueces because it’s almost the holidays. I’ve been working on the Russian dance if you’re up to the challenge.”

There was a time where Miguel wasn’t exactly fond of playing classical ballet songs for Victoria to dance to, considering it boring and her dancing to be prissy and goofy. That was until Victoria angrily challenged him to try it himself. He arrogantly agreed, and his one attempt to stand en pointe resulted in a dislocated big toe and a nail split down the middle. He had to lie to his parents about it too, saying that a horse had stepped on his foot. Now he treated Victoria’s dancing with the awe and pride that it deserved. And the songs were good practice for his plucking anyway.

“Not yet Miguel. First… I have to give you these.” Victoria placed a box in front of him, a small yet pleased smile on her face. “Feliz cumpleaños, Tío.”

With a roll of his eyes, Miguel took the lid off the box. “C’mon, Victoria. Why couldn’t you just wait to give it to me to-… morrow?...”

“Because Abuelito would throw a fit if I gave it to you in front of him.”

“Leather wrist bands!” Miguel cheered happily, throwing the box to the side and slipping the brown leather over his hands. “Just like the ones Tío Nesto used to wear! They actually look like the ones he wore in El Camino a Casa!”

Victoria nodded proudly. “Yep! I worked really hard on them to make it look exact.”

Miguel looked up at her in wonder as he finished fastening the buttons tight. “You made these?”

“Uh huh. I used leftover leather from the old workshop after the museum tour guide finished the shoe demonstration. I’m very good at weaving leather, who would have thought?”

The old workshop, along with the entire Rivera household, had finally run its course. After years of hemming and hawing Héctor had finally conceded that it was time to move into a bigger, safer house for his growing family. Not as flashy as any of Ernesto’s mansions, it was still an enormous complex with enough bedrooms for all the guests that were coming to Miguel’s birthday celebration. With high security walls, a lush garden full of both lovely flowers and fresh vegetables, and a five-car garage with the latest models inside, it was a house that truly showed off the Rivera’s wealth.

The old house had been turned into the Rivera Shoe museum, showcasing it as the origin of Imelda’s business as well as a small monument to the history of the family. There were demonstrations on basic shoe repair with workshops on cutting and sewing leather for tourists to enjoy, a gift shop to buy Rivera souvenirs as well as the usual fittings for their own custom-made shoes that they could order.

That was only during the weekdays. On the weekends it was closed to everyone but the family, and it was also where they would be having Miguel’s birthday party and where the ofrenda would be set up: So Leti could visit her real home.

But over the years the actual holiday came second to Miguel’s birthday. His father put all his time and energy into giving his youngest the best birthday a child could ask for: Mountains of food, games, presents and all his friends at school would come over and have the time of their lives.

Miguel had loved it.

At first.

But as he grew older his father’s exuberance over his birthday became more and more embarrassing. It was his main focus on all the days leading up to it, and on the day of the party he became unbearably chipper and happy. Never mind the fact that Miguel would soon be turning twelve years old. Papá always acted like he was celebrating a five year old’s birthday. And despite the pleas from his friends parents Papá insisted that he celebrate his birthday on the day of, refusing to move it to another day so the families could also celebrate Dia de Muertos. Also since every party had no music for entertainment they became increasingly boring for all who came.

So eventually his friends stopped coming to his birthday parties, and it just became a family get together. Miguel would have rather just not celebrate at all, but Papá wouldn’t let him. He insisted that Miguel celebrate his birthday, but the boy knew by now that it wasn’t for his sake.

Papá needed to celebrate his birthday. To have something joyous to focus on, so as not to think about the daughter he had tragically lost, nor the day that his best friend and brother had been gruesomely ripped away from him. His birthday was a blessing to his father: the one good thing about Dia de Muertos.

And so Miguel endured it. But as he flexed his wrists and admired the exquisite craftsmanship of his sobrina, it made it feel like it would be easier to do so this year.

“Gracias, Victoria. They’re great! I feel just like Tío Nesto now!”

“De nada, Miguel.” Victoria smiled warmly. “And yes, I would like to try the Russian Dance. Your tempo has been poor lately, I’d hate to see if those wrist bands somehow make it worse.”

“Ha! Yeah right, just try to keep up!” Miguel laughed, and broke out with a loud flourish of his guitar.

----

“Well I hope you enjoyed your little nap, Héctor.” Vicente grumbled as he and his supposed boss walked down the streets of Santa Cecilia, both munching on street food. “It’s not like quarterly report meetings are that important to your financial wellbeing as well as the thousands of people who work under you. And the board was even willing to come all the way to Santa Cecilia just so it wouldn’t upset your holiday plans.”

Héctor waved him off. “Ah, Chente, I’m just a figurehead for the company. You’re the one who should care about these things, not me. I’m like the uh… I’m the King George to your Neville Chamberlain!”

“It’s Churchill now.”

“Whatever. The point is you take care of the important stuff while I force a grin and wish the shareholders a happy holidays once a year.” Héctor grumbled, taking a huge bite of a tortilla filled to the brim with garlic, onions and fried chapulines. “Mmm… Oh yeah, last batch of the season is always the best… Besides I caught some of it. Especially when old man Tapia suggested we shut down some of the soup kitchens. Can you believe it?! That viejo looks like he’s never missed a meal in his life! He has no idea what it’s like to starve or do a hard day’s work for your food. Do you know what my first job was ever?”

“Catching grasshoppers when you were four years old.”

“Catching grasshoppers when I was!-… Oh, I told you that one, huh?” Héctor mumbled. “Well no matter. My grandchildren are coming in from America for the celebration tomorrow. They’ll appreciate my stories!”

Vicente smiled. “Ah, I haven’t gotten to see the newest one yet. It’s nice that they get to experience an authentic celebration for Dia de M-”

“Miguel’s birthday!” Héctor cut in quickly, his grin stretching a little wider than normal. “Si, it’s nice they get to see celebrate their tío’s birthday. All kids love parties, right?”

Vicente winced a little, nervously thumbing through the work papers in his hand. “… Right. Still I love this time of year. I remember being so excited to get to stay up all night for the festivals in my hometown when I was little. Helping my Papá decorate the ofrenda, sampling all the dishes my Mamá and my sisters cooked. The stories. I’m sure your grandchildren will love it. It’s always exciting to experience it the first time with your family when you’re little.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Héctor grumbled around a mouthful of tortilla, his earlier mirth gone. Vicente could tell he was trying to shoot down this conversation flat. “My parents dumped me in the orphanage when I was a baby, and the nuns thought Dia de Muertos was too pagan to celebrate. Didn’t really join in on the festivities until I moved out with E-…” Héctor paused, a flicker of pain in his eyes, before he forcefully swallowed down a too dry bite. “Until I had a family of my own.”

“Ay, Dios mio, speaking of families! Sorry Héctor I forgot.” Flicking through the pages he pulled out a couple of sheets. “I had this under miscellaneous since it had nothing to do with this morning’s meeting, but a certain Señor Domingo Cavallero approached me with this last evening while I was in the market.”

Héctor stared at the papers and groaned in disgust as he took them. “Domingo Cavallero? What does he want?”

Ever since the late elder Cavallero had brutally lost his position of the town’s mayor and the source of his embezzlement was taken from him, the whole family’s wealth had been steadily decreasing over the years. So set in their old ways they had kept up their lavish lifestyle until the pooled funds had trickled down into a puddle. What was once a proud and dignified family now lay on the very brink of heading off to the poor house. Héctor remembered quite clearly ever since he was a little boy the way Domingo had sneered in disgust at him every so often when their paths happened to cross. Now the former mayor’s son was coming to him?

“It seems that he and his son Ignacio are trying to build a hotel nearby. A family venture, he said, though it’s clear it’s a desperate attempt to reclaim their past wealth. I’m assuming they’ve scrounged up whatever money they’ve got left over to fund it but it’s not enough. They are humbly asking for a donation from you to make their dream come true… Or, rather, as humble as they are capable. I spent two minutes with the man and his son, and it was two minutes too many.”

“’El Dorado.’” Héctor read the description. “Hmph, very original… ‘A glorious extravaganza that combines superb customer service, gourmet meals delivered right to your room, and an astounding décor guaranteed to amaze and excite every guest.’”

“Sí. They’ve included blueprints and an artist’s rendering of the place to further incite you.”

Flipping to the next page, Héctor’s eyes widened as he looked at the illustrated drawing of what looked like the main lobby: Everything was gold. Gold furniture, gold wallpaper, gold plants. The wet bar, the piano in the lounge. Carpet, drapery, every single item nearly the exact same shade of gold. Not one other color to balance it out, not even a white or a brown. Just gold and gold alone.

“…This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve been told Ignacio came up with the theme himself.”

“That’s not saying much. How much are they asking me to contribute?”

“Oh, roughly seventy five percent.”

“Seventy-five?!” Héctor sputtered, folding the sheets in half and flinging them back to Vicente as if holding them anymore would burn his skin. “Why don’t I just pay for the whole damn thing myself?! Anyone with half a brain cell can tell that that… thing… wouldn’t last even half a year. Well, you can tell them that I am simply not interested in putting my time and effort into a lost cause.”

“Wh-?... Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Héctor looked over to see Vicente with his face in his hand in frustration, and grimaced. “What, you think I should pay money for this basura?”

Vicente looked up. “Huh? Oh, no, I agree. It’s an eye sore. I’m sorry Héctor, but something’s just come up. I need to go to the cemetery for a minute, I’ll meet you at the house for lunch. Adios!”

Héctor blinked, just now noticing that they were in front of the town’s cemetery. As he watched Vicente head straight towards Ern-… The biggest mausoleum in the center of it all, he immediately turned heel and walked away as quickly as he could. All he needed to do was wind through some off the path streets, far away from the plaza, and he would be home. It would take longer, but that was okay. All the more time to plan for Miguel’s birthday surprise tomorrow. Héctor smiled, he was so excited to see Miguel’s face light up when he told him the big news. And he would have to thank Chente afterwards, he gave him the idea after all! He couldn’t w-

“Arf!”

“Gyah!”

Looking down Héctor sighed in relief when he just saw Dante, once again, sneak up on him and scare the living daylights out of him. And he wasn’t so sure if it was purely unintentional on the dog’s part either. “Hola Dante. You’re looking… remarkably well these days, especially for a twenty-year-old dog. No arthritis, vision loss, anything?… Sometimes I think you won’t die until you take me with you, the way you keep scaring me.”

Dante yipped again and gently tugged on Héctor’s pants leg, pulling him back towards the road to the plaza, but Héctor shook free of him. “Stop it Dante. If you’re going to the plaza you can bother someone else there. Because I’m not going. Now go on.”

Ignoring the whine of the dog behind him, Héctor made his way home. He had a party to organize, after all. And a surprise.

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

Walking up the path towards the mausoleum, glancing around to see if there was no one else within earshot to hear them, Vicente approached the man standing at the front gate glaring inside. Wrapped up in a thick poncho and wrinkled baggy pants, he held a cigar to the side before bringing it in for a thick puff. His wild sandy brown hair, thin patchy facial hair and piercing golden eyes made him look like he was a dirty vagabond no different from the ones lounging out in the street of the slums. No one would ever be able to tell that he was actually the head of the entire art department for Rivera de la Cruz productions with several prestigious awards to his name.

Especially not the way he was pouting childishly at the painting of Ernesto de la Cruz mounted high above his crypt and his shiny golden guitar.

“Javier, what are you doing back here?” Vicente asked tiredly.

“Just looking at the artistic travesty that has the power to make every true artist unfortunate to lay eyes on it retch in disgust.” Javier blew out a thick cloud of smoke, sneering all the while. “Look at it. Any child with a broken crayon could have made a better likeness of Señor de la Cruz.”

“Javi, how many times must we do this?”

Javier ignored him, continuing bitterly. “The background is such a slash and slop of blurs that it gives true focus on the face. That ugly horrid face that looks nothing like the man himself. Such cold, dead, expressionless eyes. You can feel it sucking your soul out.”

“Javi-”

“And that chin cleft. Is it a cleft, or did a psychopath just cut into him with a rusty knife? Might as well have given him a Glasgow grin while we’re at it.”

“Javi!”

“The person who made this painting should be drawn and quartered in front of the entire artistic community in order to avenge the death of art itself!”

Pinching his nose as he felt the pain of a headache coming, Vicente growled out. “Javier, Javi, mi amor… For the millionth time, and I don’t know why I have to keep saying this… YOU painted it!”

“All the more reason why I’m allowed to critique it.” Javier smiled widely in a way he knew always made his lover’s inside squirm. Seeing him flush slightly Javier drew his attention back to the painting. “I can’t believe I used to think that this was my masterpiece. You’d think I was the one on drugs at the time, not the other way around... Heh, though I was tempted to add a few white sprinkles on there. Ha ha!... But seriously this thing is un pedazo de mierda.”

Vicente sighed. “Look, if it bothers you so much maybe you can retouch it a little? Or we can put in another painting.”

Javier whirled around, eyes blazing fire and cheeks burning red. “And sully the greatest contribution to society I have ever made?! Commissioned by Ernesto de la Cruz himself, Mi obra maestra, mon pièce de résistance?! Are you loco?!”

Vicente stared blankly at him, then turned to leave. “I give up. I’m going to the house for lunch. Stay here and starve or come and eat, I don’t care anymore.”

“Ooh, comida!” Hopping down the stairs and running up next to Vicente, he flicked the head of his burnt off cigar up into the air, not caring when it landed in an offering dish of one of the graves with a clang. “Gonna get me some carnitaaas~…”

Fighting back a smile, Vicente pretended to glare at him. “You’re hopeless.”

“I’m hopeless?” Javier chuckled haughtily as he attempted to smooth down his flyaway hair. “No, I’m an artist. I live in the now, paint what’s in my heart, love it and then despise it years down the road. It’s part of the package deal, you’ve known that for a long time. No, you are the one that’s hopeless.”

“Me?”

“Sí, tonto.” Javier said. “This hopeless idea of yours: Getting Héctor Rivera to take his little coddled son under his wing and to pursue music with Rivera de la Cruz Productions. The same man who practically hisses like a cat at the mere sound of even a maraca shaken by a baby? Yes, I do think it’s hopeless. Childish even. A fool’s dream.”

“I think it’s a good idea!” Vicente said grouchily, shoving Javier slightly to the side. “And Héctor has always known that Miguel is nothing like his brother in terms of interests. So, while Mateo works with his mother and follows in her footsteps, literally in their case, heh… then Miguel will follow in his father’s! This will give Miguel an opportunity to branch out on his own and eventually and pursue his musical dreams. Maybe a record producer, or a talent agent. He’ll be surrounded by music. I think it will be a nice birthday present for him from his father. And since it was my idea then technically it’s my present to the boy.”

Javier hummed a little at that, worried. “I don’t know… Are you sure you convinced him properly?”

Vicente huffed. “Please, Javi. If I can convince Pedro Infante to record a cover album of the best of de la Cruz at half his normal pay rate, then I can convince Héctor to let Miguel work in the music industry. Trust me, when this all falls into place, you will be bowing down to me in awe and praise.”

“Ooh, that would be a nice change of pace, eh? Usually it’s the other way around.” Javier smiled widely again, enough to wipe Vicente’s smirk off his reddened face, and was shoved away again with more force.

-------

“Mija, I’m coming in.”

“Is Elena with you?”

“Sí.”

“She’s not allowed in, Mamá! I’ve forbidden her!”

“Too bad, I’m overriding you. Come unlock the door. Now.”

With a loud, drawn out groan Victoria unlocked the door and opened it for her mother to come in. Julio was also with her, holding onto Elena’s tiny hand as the little girl sniffled and glared daggers at her older sister. Victoria stuck her tongue out at her, which Elena paid in kind with a full-blown raspberry. Before a full-blown slap fight could break out Coco flicked both girls on the forehead. “Stop it.”

“She fed my tutu to Diego, Mamá!”

“She called me short and fat!”

“No, I said your legs were-”

“I said stop!” Coco said loudly, and when both girls quieted down she stood over them with her arms crossed. “Now, what do I always say when you two fight over silly things like this?”

The two sisters, still glaring at each other, said through gritted teeth “‘Be nice to your sister, because she’s the only one you’ve got’.”

“That’s right.” Coco said. “You’ll never know how precious she is to you until, somehow, she’s gone for good.”

Both girls immediately looked at their mother with wide eyes before ducking their heads in shame, while Julio gently took his wife’s hand for support. “We’re sorry Mamá.”

Miguel had never known his older sister Leti. Despite all the stories he had heard about her over the years, she was a practical stranger to him. He knew how she had acted with Coco and Matty, but the feeling that he had never had his own relationship with her gave him a weird empty feeling in his chest. He didn’t know how her voice sounded, how she laughed, any of her own special quirks and tics. And yet there was a longing deep within him to know what she was like, so strange to long for something that he never had. He knew, however, that his pain was several times less than the ones who actually knew her.

To break up to sudden tension, Miguel set aside his guitar and grinned. “I guess I’m lucky that my brother and sister are too old to fight with. Older than dirt-OW!”

“I’m not too old to flick you too, gordito.” Coco smirked as Miguel rubbed his stinging forehead. “Now Miguel I know you’re never especially thrilled when it’s your birthday, but I think this year will be different.” Coco said, an excited grin threatening to burst out. “Because I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”

Before Coco could elaborate, Elena bounced up and down happily and squealed. “I think I know! Tia Rosita is pregnant again, right?!”

Miguel blinked, completely unsurprised. “Oh, is she?”

Julio snorted derisively and crossed his arms. “That’s not a surprise. That’s becoming an annual holiday itself.”

“Julio!” Coco hissed, glaring at her husband. “That’s not true!”

“She's right, Papá.” Victoria smirked. “Osvaldo and Facunito are only nine and a half months apart.”

“Victoria! Both of you!” Coco sighed in exasperation. “No, Rosita is not pregnant!... I think… Well, she might b- I don’t know! That’s not what the surprise is anyway! This is the surprise!”

A pink sheet of paper was thrust into Miguel’s face, and it took a second for him to focus on what was on it. Decorated with black painted skulls and dancing skeletons, the words ‘Dia De Muertos Talent Show’ stood out in big bold letters. Taking it from his sister’s hands, Miguel looked at it in confusion for just a moment before a creeping sense of understanding and hope started to well within. “The talent show? You mean… I get to go see it?”

“No.”

Miguel sputtered. “Wh-?! What gives Coco?!”

“You’re not going to see it hermanito, you’re going to be in it! I signed you up as the first act and you’re going to play in front of the whole town! Now everyone can finally see how talented you truly are!” Coco cried out, smiling widely and grabbing her astonished little brother into a huge bear hug. “Feliz cumpleaños, Miguel!”

Miguel gaped in awe as his sister let him go, looking at the poster, then his guitar on the bed, then to Coco. Slowly a grin formed on his face and he laughed out loud. “Really?! I’m going to play in the talent show?! I can’t believe it!”

“I want to see that!” Victoria added happily. “That’s so exciting!”

“Gracias, Coco! Gracias gracias gracias-”

“No!” Elena shouted, causing everyone to look at her. The poor girl looked both angry and a little afraid as she clutched her mother’s skirt tightly and tugged it frantically. “No he can’t! It’s one thing to play in the house, but in front of people?! Abuelito will be mad for sure!”

Victoria groaned. “Ay Mamá, why did you have to show Miguel’s secret present in front of el lengua larga? She’ll blab for sure.”

“I won’t blab if he doesn’t go!” Elena cried, and hurried over to Miguel’s guitar. Clumsily she lifted it and placed the large instrument behind her back, as if thinking that if it was out of sight then it was out of mind. “Please don’t perform tío! If you go on stage you’ll be hurt or even killed. Just like Ernesto de la Cruz!”

“That was an accident Elenita. It had nothing to do with music.” Miguel said dismissively. “And what’s so bad about wanting to be like Ernesto de la Cruz? We all used to know him, you didn’t. He was the greatest of all time.”

“You want to end up like him too?! Smooshed flat, and the only thing left of you would be a picture on the ofrenda?!”

Miguel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I don’t care if I’m on some stupid ofrenda.”

While everyone else in the room winced at Miguel casual disregard for tradition, Elena gasped so long and hard, her eyes and mouth wide with pure horror, it was almost comical. Turning to look at the guitar in her hands, her brow furrowed, and her face scrunched up in absolute hatred and disgust. Lifting the guitar as high as she could go, and with a warlike cry, the brought it to the ground!

*thunk*

….

*thunk*

Coco sighed. “Elena, what are you doing?”

Straining as hard as she could, Elena brought the guitar down again and again. “Mmph!... Trying to- uuff!... break the- nnyah!... guitar!” She tried and tried again, but the instrument was both too sturdy and too cumbersome to maneuver properly, and she lacked both the strength and the force to damage it even a little. The guitar simply made some light twangy sounds as the strings were slightly squeezed and brushed against, almost as if the instrument was just as annoyed as everyone else by what was happening.

“Stop it Elena. You’re going to scratch it!”

“It’s already scratched Miguel. One more won’t hurt it.”

“Callate…”

Huffing with exertion now and sweating, Elena started to struggle with the large object. “I can do it… Haa… haa… I can do it! Gah! Tío, help.”

“No, I’m not gonna help you smash my guitar!” Miguel yelled angrily, swiping the guitar away from her. “I’m playing in the plaza tomorrow for my birthday. Your Mamá gave it to me as a present, and I’m gonna enjoy it! Period!”

“But-!”

“Elena…” Julio said sternly, getting his daughter’s attention. “You won’t say anything to your Abuelito about this, alright? I know you’re afraid of what he might say, but what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. And he won’t know if you don’t say anything. Claro?”

“But-!”

“You must always listen to your parents. Please don’t ruin this for Miguel, okay?”

Elena looked at her parents, then her sister, Miguel, and back to her parents. As her face reddened more and more and her cheeks puffed up to the point of bursting, she fled the room in tears and ran down the hallway wailing. Coco sighed as he watched her daughter run off then patted Miguel on the back. “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.”

“What if she’s right though?” Miguel asked softly, holding the flyer tightly to his chest as if he was afraid that even that could be taken away from him at any second. “What if Papá finds out? Or Mamá? They would never let me go.”

“We won’t let them find out, we promise.” Coco said gently. “Matty, Victoria and I will be there to cheer you on, while Julio will distract them long enough for you to perform.”

“Th-that’s right!” Julio nodded and laughed nervously. “I mean-… I-I can do that! I can… Lie… to my father-in-law and my mo-… It shouldn’t be too hard, right? I can- Sí, I can do that!”

“Sounds like you’ll need all the help you can get, Julio.” A voice suddenly popped up. “And should I be concerned about Elena flailing about on the couch downstairs? She looked like she was starting to turn blue.”

The four turned and smiled to see Wanda standing in the doorway, dressed in a fancy travel suit and holding a suitcase in one hand. Holding onto her other hand was a small boy, smiling shyly and wearing an adorable cowboy outfit complete with tiny Rivera boots. The small ten gallon hat couldn’t hide the dark wavy curls of his hair poking out from underneath and his face was a little dirt smudged. He carried a brightly wrapped birthday present in his other arm and held it out to Miguel. “Happy birthday, Uncle Miguel.”

“Charlie!” Victoria cried out and enveloped the small boy into a big hug, his round face smooshed against her shoulder. “Charlie, mi primo favorito! Oh Charlie, you look so cute! What are you dressed as?”

Charlie smiled sweetly up at Victoria. “The Lone Ranger. I got a plastic gun and bows and arrows in my bag, too. Can we play?”

“We can later.” Miguel said, taking the present from his nephew and knocking on the top of his hardened cowboy hat. “Thank you for the present, Carlos.”

The little boy’s smile faded and he gave an adorable pout. “My name is Charlie.”

“Not here. In Mexico you’re Carlos.”

“Basta, Miguel!” Victoria snapped, and gave Charlie another hug. “Oh, I missed you so much Charlie. You are my most favorite primo ever. So sweet and cute.”

“What about Dahlia?” Miguel asked. “And Margarita? And Anselmo? And Osvaldo, Facunito, and Amapola?”

“I don’t see him every single day of my life, and he doesn’t drive me crazy as soon as he enters the room.” Victoria said. “That’s what makes him my favorite.” Behind her Julio nodded silently in agreement with a shudder, and Coco swatted him with a glare.

“Matthew has already told me the game plan for tomorrow, Miguel.” Wanda said as she placed Charlie’s suitcase full of toys down and began to unpack it for him. “But if this is going to work then Julio, Coco and I should talk about how we’re going to keep your father from guessing what’s happening. Don’t you worry.”

“Gracias, Wanda.” Miguel said, walking over to hug her in gratitude. “Your Spanish has gotten really good by the way.”

Wanda returned the hug and smiled proudly. “Of course it has. That’s what happens after long term exposure, being outrageously intelligent and having the internal drive to learn new things. I mean seriously, did you have any doubts in my ability to learn it?”

“Sí.” “Yes.” “Sorry.” “I, uh-... Sí…”

Wanda huffed irritably at the slight, but brushed it off and bent down to her son to speak in English. “Now you be careful when you play, alright? Your arm is still a little weak, so be extra gentle. No cops and robbers or anything like that, alright?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“Oh that’s right!” Victoria said, bending down to look the little boy in the eye. “You broke your arm a few months ago! I was so sorry to hear that. Elena even cried when she heard.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.” Miguel asked. “Did it hurt? What happened?”

Gripping his left arm slightly, Charlie grinned as if he was telling a funny joke. “Daddy is the one who broke my arm.”

“WHAT?!”

“Matty broke your arm?!”

As the two children gasped and shouted at what they heard, both Coco and Julio winced as they looked at Wanda with pity. Wanda placed her hands over her mouth and sighed sadly, shaking her head wearily. “Charlie, you weren’t supposed to tell anyone that.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Miguel shook his head. “Man, you must have gotten into big trouble if Matty broke your arm-OW!” He rubbed his shoulder where Victoria had socked him hard, but before he could say anything Charlie continued.

“He didn’t mean to.” Charlie said softly. “Mommy says something scared him and he was trying to protect me, but did it too hard. Daddy was very sorry, he cried for a long time. I didn’t know grown-up men cried! My arm was in this itchy cast for a long time and Daddy let me eat ice cream for breakfast every day after that!” Charlie’s smile faded at that, and a slightly nauseous grimace passed over him. “I don’t like ice cream any more…”

“Guys listen.” Wanda said to the two older children in a serious tone. “I don’t want you to let Matthew know that you know about this, all right? It is a very sensitive subject that he feels terrible about, I don’t want him to feel any worse. It’s in the past and we’re moving forward.”

“Is Matty all right?” Miguel asked softly.

“He’s fine.” Wanda said assuredly, holding her son closely. “We’re all going to be fine. Just like tomorrow is going to be fine. Don’t worry. Everything is under control.”

-----

Héctor smiled as he held the whining baby high above his head, puffing out his cheeks and crossing his eyes until she dissolved into giggles. Lowering her down he blew loud raspberries onto each cheek until she squealed before giving her a kiss on the forehead. It was such a treat to see his granddaughter Clara again, not having seen her since shortly after her birth. Living in the United States prevented him from seeing her and Charlie regularly, so he relished the opportunity to see and hold her while she was still so small. He was also happy to see that after five months her eyes still had the same lovely shade of blue as her mother’s, his only grandchild to have different colored eyes. As the baby quieted down again, he nodded to his son. “Keep going mijo.”

Matty nodded somberly, downing his cup of coffee and handing it over for Imelda to refill. He nervously fidgeted with the polished knob of his cane, a necessity for his damaged leg, and shook his head with intense remorse.

“It was an old truck backfiring.” Matty said quietly. “It was so loud and sudden, especially on a quiet street. We were just walking to the park, talking amongst ourselves, and then ‘bang!’… Dios, it took just a millisecond. At that moment I wasn’t in Houston anymore, I swear all I could see was smoke and all I could smell was mud and decay and-…I just reacted.”

“The next thing I knew Charlie was underneath me, and he was screaming… I was frozen, just watching my son scream in pain, until Wanda was shouting ‘Get off of him Matt! Get off of him!’… Wanda rode with him in the ambulance, and she took the baby too, because I couldn’t touch her. I couldn’t touch him for days, I just felt so sick with what I had done to my little boy. Not even five years old and I had broken his arm. I tackled my son, trying to protect him by reflex, and I broke his pinche arm. Dios, Wanda was holding our newborn daughter at the time, if it had been them that I-!”

“Shh…” Imelda hushed him, rubbing his white knuckled grip on his cane until his fingers loosened. “But you didn’t. They’re both fine, and so is Charlie. They all know that you didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Matty nodded shakily, smiling at his mother in thanks. “Yeah… Yeah, I know. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that, but my therapist says that line of thinking is normal for someone with my condition. I’m trying to get better-”

“You’re seeing a shrink?” Héctor asked, his brow furrowing to show his confusion and slight aversion to the very idea. “But why? Everything turned out alright, Charlie’s arm is better. It’s fine.”

“No, Papá, it’s not fine. In fact, it hasn’t been fine for a very long time for me.” Matty said. “Over the years a lot of things have bothered me. Certain smells trigger images in my mind, I can’t stand the sound of fireworks, even low flying planes make me freeze up and panic. I’ve been dealing with it for years by simply avoiding it, like not accompanying my family for Fourth of July picnics or other situations where these triggers might occur. But this last incident made me realize that I can’t avoid the unpredictable.”

Héctor still looked uncertain as Matty spoke, but Imelda nodded encouragingly for him to continue.

“Wanda recommended a therapist from the hospital she works at. He’s good, Papá. He diagnosed me with shell-shock, something that a lot of former soldiers get so it’s not just me. But that's not all. He says my triggers go all the way back to Leti’s death, how it still affects my emotions and my interactions with my family to this day. I’m sure you all already know about that, but I didn’t really see it until he spelled it out for me. That I sometimes hurt them, and you guys, unintentionally. That I’m somewhat, well… emotionally stunted. But he’s been helping me a great deal. I feel like I’m making progress so far.”

“That’s wonderful, mijo.” Imelda said, leaning over to kiss his cheek and grimacing at the scratchiness of it. “Maybe your therapist can convince you to shave as well.”

“I can’t.” Matty laughed, running his fingers down his goatee and grateful for the well-intentioned nagging to lighten the mood. “Last time I did Charlie cried for a whole day; thought I was a stranger instead of his Daddy. I’d hate to do that to Clara as well.”

Héctor cleared his throat uncomfortably, then turned his attention back to the baby in his arms. “Sí, well good for you mijo. If you think that’s what you need then I’m happy for you. And this little girl is happy too. Aren’t you, cileita? Look at Abuelito. Ay, que lindaaa…”

As Héctor babbled and cooed at the baby, he didn’t notice that Matty and Imelda exchanged worried glances at each other. He continued until Matty cleared his own throat to get his attention, and his smile faded when he saw the two of them staring intently at him. “What?”

Standing up and walking with the aid of the cane, Matty reached out an arm and gently took his daughter out of Héctor’s hold. “Um, Papá… What I just told you about my struggles… Didn’t that seem at all, I don’t know… Familiar to you in any way?”

Héctor blinked dumbly at that, starting to not like how Imelda was starting to look sad as she stared at him. “No?”

Matty huffed out a sigh. “Come on, Papá. You must see where I’m coming from: Triggers that upset you, make you angry and in turn upset everyone around you? Avoidance of certain stimuli, to the point of outright banning it? Do you understand?”

“Oh… Oh!” Héctor laughed out, relieved. “Oh, I understand what you’re saying now. The music thing. Listen, it’s just not my kind of thing anymore. I know I owe a great deal to it, that the whole family does, but it’s time to move on. There’s more to our business than music, you know. There’s the hospitals, the schools, the canning factories, and of course the shoe business that you have turned into an empire all by yourself, my clever boy. Did I hear that they’re going to be on almost every athlete’s feet in the Olympics next year?”

“Please don’t change the subject, Papá.” Matty said in exasperation. “It’s not like you don’t care for music anymore Papá. You can’t stand it. You’re afraid of it.”

Héctor smiled, again a little too widely, and patted his son’s shoulder. “You think that- Ay yi yi, such a sweet boy, thinking about your Papá like that. Well you don’t have to worry about me, Matty.”

“Papá, you don’t listen to music. You don’t want anyone to listen to music. You’re avoiding it because it’s a trigger! And the thing about triggers is sometimes you can’t avoid them. If you don’t prepare yourself you could end up hurting yourself or worse: someone you love!”

“I don’t have what you have, Mateo. That, uh-… shell-shock, right? No, I don’t have it. I’m not a soldier, this is completely different.”

“It doesn’t always have to be about fighting in a war Papá.” Matty explained. “It can be caused by a very traumatic event that you witness. And I can’t think of anything more traumatic than watching your best friend-”

“I do not… have… shell shock!” Héctor snapped, pointing a finger to both his son and his wife. “We don’t need music, we’ve gone nine years without it, and we’re fine. I don’t avoid it, I just don’t like it anymore. I’m not like you, alright?! I don’t need help! I don’t need a shrink! I’m not crazy!”

“Héctor!”

At his wife’s hissing voice Héctor stopped his tirade in shock. Clara was crying in her father’s arms, deeply disturbed that the sweet old man who had held her before was now loud and scary. And Matty looked at his father, jaw clenched and eyes downcast. His throat bobbed a few times and Héctor saw his lips tremble a little before he looked up to glare at his father.

“You think… I’m crazy, Papá?”

“No!” Héctor gasped, placing his hands gently on his son. “Oh no, not you mijo, no… You’re uh… a special case. You have a condition, si? Happens to soldiers all the time, like you said right? If it makes you feel better than I’m all for it! You go to your shrink, and-”

“It’s therapist, Héctor.” Imelda said harshly, glaring at him as she moved to stand next to her son. “Not shrink. You say it like it’s a disease.”

Héctor sagged, not looking either of them in the eye anymore. “Therapist, right…”

Not liking how the fun visit with his son and granddaughter had turned so toxic and claustrophobic so fast, Héctor inched his way out the door to make a hasty retreat. “Listen, I think we need to just forget about this, so I’ll just leave for a while. I’m gonna go to the house- I mean… the museum. Get it all ready for the party tomorrow. That’s why you’re here, right Matty? Gotta make it a special day for your brother! Okay, I’ll see you later!”

As they both watched Héctor race towards the garage in an effort to get as far away and as fast as possible, Matty soothed his daughter back into an easy slumber and mumbled softly. “I’m here for my sister too… Guess he’s avoiding that as well…”

“I’m so sorry, Mateo.” Imelda hugged her son close and rubbed his back. “He didn’t mean to upset you. I know you tried to help, but he needs to want to be helped, claro?”

“He’s only getting worse Mamá.”

Imelda shook her head. “He’s not usually this bad. He has his good days more than his bad. It’s just that this time of year is so hard on him, you understand right? It was a terrible day for all of us, but even more so for your father. It nearly destroyed him.”

“I just wanted to help him. Help all of us… At least I tried.”

“Yes you did. It will be alright, mijo.” She smoothed back his hair and took the sleeping baby from his arms to give her a kiss. “Let’s change the subject, sí? I want to know all about your plans for Helsinki next year! How many pairs of shoes are we talking about?”

Matty smiled softly at his mother, letting her drag him into a boring, yet calming, conversation about shoes once again to soothe the pain of his father’s words. As he and Imelda talked about the Olympics next year, the upcoming winter catalogue, the demand to not smoke in the kitchen, and the vague plans of expanding to include a clothing line in the upcoming future, things seemed to fall back into a relative peace. There was still hurt there in Héctor’s heart, but nothing they couldn’t overcome as a family.

Things couldn’t possibly get any worse, right?

-----

As Victoria put away her pointe shoes into it’s shoe box she looked up to see Miguel staring at the contest poster.

Again.

For probably the billionth time within the last hour.

Her Mamá’s surprise had really put a damper on their little practice session, and soon even Charlie had grown bored with the lack of guitar playing from his tío and had gone off to play with Elena instead. Miguel just sat and stared at the poster with that dumb grin on his face, tracing the letters and illustrations with reverence like he did with all his other de la Cruz memorabilia.

But even if she felt like she didn’t get enough practice in, Victoria found that she didn’t really mind it in the slightest. She could see Miguel already going through the performance in his head, his eyes closing momentarily as if basking in applause that only he could hear. Then he’d continue to look at the poster and the process would repeat.

It was dumb, but Victoria was glad. It was about time Miguel was excited about something for his birthday. She couldn’t wait to see the performance herself. And maybe, hopefully, this would be a stepping stone for her. Maybe she would one day get to perform on stage, maybe even get a real teacher. Share a stage with her ballet idols. It was exciting to think about, but for now she would just be happy for Miguel.

“So, musico…” Victoria hummed, smiling when Miguel dumbly broke free from his trance to look at her. “What are you going to play tomorrow?”

With an excited grin, Miguel looked at the poster again and nodded to himself. Confidently. Assuredly. “Definitely Remember Me!”

Victoria sighed. “Why did I even ask?”

#somos familia #coco fanfiction #miguel rivera #Hector Rivera #mama coco #mama imelda #pixar coco #coco pixar #why did it take so long to write this?#because it was mostly exposition for what's to come #and that always sucks

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