#so the babies gonna be afro Cuban | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rig-bee · 4 months

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Sneaky Links

Context: Namora belongs to a friend of mine (Yanna), Sammy and Divina Diaz are my characters

Fandoms: MHA, Spiderverse

TW: Drinking, smoking, grinding, petnames, unsafe sex, cunnilingus, oral sex

A/N: Sammy and Divina are Afro-Latina fyi

20 minutes later, she found herself in front of Sammy's apartment. It was in a shady part of town, but Sammy owned enough lead to dare people to test him. Something she somewhat admired about him.

She shifted her skirt downwards as she knocked on his door again, her thing riding up her ass as she waited for him to answer the door. "Cmon Sammy…its fuckin' freezing out here…" It truly was. Middle of December, actually, when it was the coldest. Her hands rubbed against her white fur coat, shivering as she continued to wait for the Cuban man.

"Sammy!" She pounded on the door, shivering as her balled fist banged on his door. "It's cold, asshole!"

Soon enough, the tall Afro-Latino man answered the door, wearing a black beanie and an all-black outfit. Black jeans, a black shirt, and some black timberlands. "Woah…" She gasped, chuckling to herself as she eyed him up and down. "Who you gonna go kill?"

"Tch, you ain't funny." He chuckled, opening the door wider for his new guest.

"You know im fuckin' funny." She teases, walking into his apartment. His TV is still on, a bottle of whiskey planted on his coffee table with a blunt still lit in his ashtray. "You havin' fun without me?"

"Girl, shut up." Sammy chuckled, taking off his beanie and jacket. "I was actually planning to come get you from your car."

"Oh, Sams."Namora sits down on his couch, looking up at the taller man with a smile. "You didn't have to do that."

"I'm a gentleman, believe it or not." He chuckles, walking over to his kitchen. Namora's eyes carved his figure as he did, eyeing all his tattoos and features. His veiny arms. His neck tattoo and matching sleeves. His pierced ears. His mole right above the right side of his lips.

This man was fine. And he knew it too.

The sound of him pulling back his refrigerator filled her ears, the sound of glass bottles clanking together as he did. "Yo NaNa…what you want to wanna drink mama?"

NaNa. His persnoal little nickanme for her. Another giggle left her lips as her stomach flipped once more, her thighs crossing over one another as she smirked at him. "You got any tequila?"

"Do I got any tequila?" Sammy chuckled, walking over to one of his cabinets. He opened it, grabbing a big bottle of tequila with a smirk on his face. "Always for you, NaNa."

Namora smiled as he approached her, holding just the bottle in his hand. "No cups?" She asked, looking up into his eyes.

"Nah… I wanna try something." He whispered, twisting the cap off the bottle and flicking it somewhere to the floor. "You trust me?"

"Yea? Why?" Namora watched as Sammy swigged down some tequila, his gaze never leaving hers. She couldn't help but be curious, eyebrow raisin in curiosity as she stared at him."Uhm….Am I.."

Sammy finally put the bottle, aggressively slamming it against the coffee table to make Namora jump. "Sammy, what--"

He doesn't let her finish her sentence. Instead, he grabs her face and forces his tongue in her mouth, allowing the fiery liquid to smooth down her throat. Namora yelped in surprise as he pushed her back against the couch, her curly hair colliding against his soft couch cushions.

Sammy hummed into the aggressive kiss, his tongue tasting her saliva as he forced more tequila mixed with his spit even deeper into her mouth.

Her blue eyes fluttered shut as she indulged in the kiss, wrapping her hands around the back of his head as she pushed his head closer to hers, deepening their kiss.

"Mm..hold on, hold on…" Sammy pulled away, staring Namora into her baby blue eyes. Her copper skin was flushed with arousal and desire, her curly hair a mess on his couch. She looked so damn pretty for him, and to think he wasn't even really touching her yet.

Sammy couldn't help but chuckle, wiping away some lone tequila on her lip with his thumb. "Damn, NaNa..didn’t think you'd like that so damn much, chiquita."

Namora huffed a slight chuckle, rolling her blue eyes as she turned her head. "Ha, Ha, you're so funny…"

Sammy chuckled before sitting up, grabbing her body closer to his. "You know im funny, stop playing with me…"

Their bodies shifted on top of his couch cushions, their heartbeats thudding in their ears as Sammy stared into Namora's blue eyes. "I ever tell you how pretty your eyes are?" His voice was soft as he pulled her body into his lap, draping her curvy frame back as he grabbed his half-lit blunt. "Cuidado mami… no quiero que lastimes ese hermoso cuerpo tuyo ahora, ¿verdad?"

Namora felt her cheeks heat up as he spoke Spanish in her ear, her bottom lip colliding against her teeth as she gnawed on the dead skin. "You know I don't know Spanish Samuel…"

"Ya ain't got to." He whispered in her ear. "Now….shut up and smoke wit me, chiquita."

Sammy leaned back and stared at her once more, putting his blunt in between his lips and pulling it back. His gaze never left hers as he let the hazy smoke fill his lungs, slowly pulling out his lungs as he exhaled.

"You're staring awfully hard." Namora said with a slight smirk, her hands resting on his abdomen. Sammy chuckled at her hand placement before reaching his tattooed hand up to her soft face.

"And you bein' awfully bold." He chuckled, pulling her lips apart and placing the blunt in her mouth. "Now, chiquita….start smokin'."

*Namora obeyed his commands, dragging the smoke into her mouth and lungs as she stared at him. Their gaze never broke or disconnected as Sammy watched Namora take a hit from his blunt, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed as she took in the beautiful man before her. She knew good and well that Sammy was nothing but a filthy drug, one she had no problem taking in. *

She knew the dangers of getting involved with a guy like him would be bad news, but it's not like anyone would half to know. Their little secret… that's all that mattered.

Sammy soon pulled the blunt out of her mouth, watching her about to blow the smoke out. "Nuh-uh." He stopped her, pulling her curvy figure to his. Their bodies flushed together like two broken puzzle pieces finding their homes; in some sick, twisted way, that's exactly how it was. "…..come 'ere." His tatted hand wrapped around her neck, pulling her head closer to his. "Kiss me chiquita…"

Namora leaned into him, melting under his touch as he pulled her deeper into his spell. She slid her hands up to his face, cupping his stubbled face as her irises bored into his. Never in her lifetime would she ever thought dark brown eyes looked so mystical and majestic, but on Sammy? She could get lost for millennia in those damn eyes.

In one swift motion, their lips collided against each other, the hazy smoke pooling from Namora's mouth to Sammy's. She felt him grunt in her mouth from satisfaction, his fingers burying into her soft skin as he pulled her hips against his. A quiet moan left her lips as desire coursed through her veins, his fingers feeling like fire and electricity simultaneously.

She knew it was wrong. She knew this was her best friend's brother, but that's what made it even sexier--the danger. The danger of being caught. The danger of getting addicted. The danger of being so wrapped up in his touch and taste that she'd drown.

Fuck, she loved it.

Sammy forced her hips down on his once more, another grunt being forced from his lips. Her body was so warm, not to mention he could feel that almost hypnotizing second heartbeat thudding against his groin. Part of him couldn't help but be amused--kissing was all it took for her to melt into a puddle? How cute. But then again, he was rock hard from grinding against her and slipping his tongue down her throat. So, in a sense, he wasn't any better.

"I feel your heartbeat, chiquita…" Sammy whispered against her lips, hands running all across her sides. Namora arched her back again, quietly whimpering against him as her breast pressed against his defined chest.

"You…You can feel my heartbeat?" She shyly asked, warmth flooding to her face. Is her racing heartbeat really that obvious?

"Mhm." Sammy nodded. "But--"

Namora didn't even have the time to think before Sammy tossed her off of his lap, pinning her down to his couch. Hands above her head, legs spread, ankles beside his thighs. She was much more vulnerable in this position, and he knew by the way he was smirking down at her. "It's not the heartbeat you thinkin' of." He whispered.

"Which…" Namora swallowed hard, looking up at the man with puppy dog eyes. "Which heartbeat then..?"

He could fuck her right now. He really could. But, he wanted to be patient--make her scream out for him before he ruined her.

"How about I show you…yea?" Sammy took one hand and slowly slid up her thighs, biting his lip as he felt her cold skin. "Damn NaNa…your skin so cold…."

Namora forced out a chuckle as she shivered under his touch, resisting the urge to buck into him. "K-Kept me outside for so long…I couldn't help but to be cold.."

"Oh, I did?" Sammy chuckled, rolling his brown eyes. "Thought you could handle a little cold, mamas."

"Don't be a fuckin--" Namora's voice immediately cut off as his fingers reached her throbbing entrance, her eyes almost rolling back from the sudden sensation.

Sammy smirked as he felt the little wet spot settling between her folds, his fingerpad slowly pushing the fine fabric even more against her needy cunt as he slid up to her clit. Another strong jolt from Namora caused him to chuckle, his cock twitching in his jeans as he watched her writhe and squirm under his touch. "Right here…That's where you need it, right, NaNa?"

Namora struggled to speak, half words of 'yes' and 'don't stop' spilling from her mouth as her eyes shut tightly. Her hands wiggled in his grasp as he drew small, slow circles around her swollen clit, her back arching from the delicious pleasure he gave her. "Sammy~!"

"I'm right here, NaNa." He whispered, watching her lose himself to him--for him. "¿Tienes idea de lo hermosa que te ves ahora?" He grunted, rubbing her clit just a tiny bit faster as his self control slowly began to diminish. "¿Sabes lo difícil que es para mí no arrancar estas bonitas bragas y follarte hasta que lo único que sabes es mi nombre?"

Namora squirmed even more, his pace slowly quickening as he spoke to her. Even with the language barrier--she knew what he meant. She could tell with how heavy his breath was getting, how he was hovering over her like she was his prey as if she were the very apple of his eye. "N-Ngh~! S-Sammy, please--"

"Por que, mamas…." He responded, his finger speeding up once more. "Talk to me, NaNa. Come on, let me hear you…Let me--fuck--let me hear you mamas."

Namora let out a high-pitched whine, her legs shaking around his thighs as she struggled to breathe. It was almost too much--his beautiful words of encouragement all while he was abusing her sensitive bud. Her toes curled in her heels as she moaned out his name, her blue eyes rolling to the back of her head as she did. "Samuel~!"

"Shh, shh, shh…" He quietly shushed her, chuckling under his breath. "Shush NaNa…I wanna be the only one that hears those filthy fuckin' moans….got it?"

Part One

#writers #oc x oc #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #female writers #smut #lemon

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oddeyevibes · 3 years

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TLND Ch2: 2 Come In

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Vice City or any of its characters, I only own my OCs. Also, many of the images and gifs used are not 100% representative of the story, there are chosen to help create ✨~ambiance~✨.

Summary: Tommy has come to Vice City to kill people for money. For him, it’s business and a duty as a member of the Forelli crime family. Dallas has come to Vice City to kill people for money. For her, it’s business and an art form, and a lifestyle that has been a part of her family for a long time. A lot might not see it, but they were made for each other....which is why they're checking into the same hotel, on the same night. Unknowingly, right next door to each other.

Italics used for when characters are speaking another language (it feels more respectable than google translate)

Trigger Warning: Blood, graphic depictions of violence

The rush and high of what went down earlier was finally beginning to fade. Well...for Tommy anyway. Ken was chattering on here and there but the sentences were too broken for Tommy to pay attention. The mobster was just letting the bright lights of Vice City calm him down.

“I poke my head outta the gutter for one freakin’ second and fate shovels SHIT in my face!” Ken cried as he pulled up to park his car in the alleyway next to his office.

The sound of a coherent sentence brought Tommy out of his daze. He didn’t really have a response. “Just go get some sleep.”

Ken looked at the backseat, sweating glistening his forehead. “What’re you gonna do?”

Tommy shrugged, “I’ll drop by your office tomorrow and we can start sorting this mess out.” Ken rapidly nodded before hopping out of the car and making a break for his office, presumably to lock himself in there for the night.

Tommy sighed as he stepped out of the car. The Vice City days were hot and dry and while the nights were no better, at least there was a slight breeze coming back every so often. It helped bring the blood pressure down.

Tomorrow, he was going to come back here and start on figuring out what the hell went wrong, as well as letting Sonny know that not only did the deal go bad but that Harry and Lee are also dead. Knowing Sonny’s short temper, the conversation was going to get violent but being a friend from childhood, Tommy already knew that.

However, tonight? Tonight, Tommy was going to find a hotel and get some sleep. Given everything that transpired today, there was no way he was going to be tossing and turning tonight. He’ll sleep like a baby. First, though, he had to find somewhere to sleep.

Ocean View Hotel

The Ocean View Hotel was no five-star resort but for most people, it got the job done. Most tourists either came for the beaches or the get a taste of the nightlife and it just so happened that the Ocean View had close access to both and for a fair enough price.

A midnight blue Sentinel XS pulled up, double parking in front of the hotel. Inside the car were two people. The driver, one Carlito Montoya was light brown skin middle age Cuban man with slicked-back black hair, and a Chevron mustache adorning is his chiseled face. The man was dressed in a fine tailored black suit with a red button-up shirt underneath. The man looked like a model and no one would ever be able to tell he did any other profession.

The other person in the car, Carlito’s slightly younger cousin, was Dallas Montoya. A dark skin Afro-Cuban woman with finger waves dyed blonde. She was wearing a dark blue hoodie with a pair of black sweat shorts and a clean white pair of tennis shoes. Clearly, she was dressed comfortably for the flight here. Resting on the top of her head was a pair of black-rimmed sunglasses.

“Alright, here we are. Ocean View Hotel! It should hold you up for the next couple of days until I get this deal done.”

“Since when have we had to fly out anywhere before being given a job?” Dallas asked with a tired tone in her voice, getting herself situated to hop out the car, grabbing her grey tote bag from the floor.

“Times are changing, Little Dallas,” Both left the car and went towards the trunk. “Momma’s thinking of setting up shop here...least for a few months. Vice City’s becoming a hot spot of criminal activity, there’s always someone who wants someone dead.”

“And we’d be fools to not take advantage, huh?” Dallas finished for him with a knowing smirk.

Carlito nodded. “Exactly.”

The older Montoya handed Dallas her white suitcase and navy blue duffle bag. Dallas gave a flat smile as she took the bags and headed towards the step of the hotel. Upon reaching the top of the steps, the sound of a door shutting caught her attention.

She turned to see Carlito hopping back into the driver’s seat of her car. She looked at him confused, “You ain’t coming?”

“Nah…” Carlito had a cocky smile. “I’ve got to meet an old girlfriend.”

Dallas rolled her eyes and waved him away, heading into the hotel as the car drove off. The inside of the hotel was a pretty sight. With the marble floors alongside the nicely set dining area and with the window giving a lovely view of the beach, this was the perfect place to just sit and unwind, especially with the sounds of merengue playing softly throughout the room.

The blonde approached the front desk and rang the bell. Not too long afterward, an elderly woman stepped out of the backroom and slowly made her way towards the desk. “How many nights?” There was a thick Cuban accent to her words.

“How much for a week?”

The woman had seemingly been caught off guard. “A week? ” The elder woman stretched her back as she thought. “Around $600 for a normal room. Suites around $1200?”

Dallas thought on it. ‘Probably wouldn’t be wise to go all out until we figure out if we’re staying or not.’ She nodded. “I’ll take a normal room.”

The older woman nodded and flashed a customer service smile. “ Let me go back and get a room key for you. I have to call upstairs, make sure the room is clean too. ”

As the woman returned to the backroom, Dallas leaned against the desk and waited for her return. Meanwhile, outside a yellow taxi pulled up to the front of the hotel. Tommy, exhausted from today’s events paid the driver along with a ‘thanks’ before heading into the building.

Since he didn’t know much about this city yet, he left it to the cabbie to take him to a nice hotel. Nothing too fancy and nothing that looked like it should’ve been condemned years ago. It’s safe to say, the mobster was pleased with the result. He still had some money on him from Sonny. It was meant for him, Harry, and Lee to keep themselves held over until money from the drugs started pouring in. It should be enough for him to get a room for a week or so.

Upon entering the hotel, he was greeted to the sight of an attractive woman bent over the front desk, no doubt waiting for service. The woman took notice of him and offered him a smirk before going back to admiring the pictures posted up on the walls.

‘Guess the place ain’t all bad.’ He thought to himself.

The shuffling of feet caught his attention as an elderly woman came out with a key in hand. “ Alright dearie, here you go. The room’s all cleaned up for you. If you need anything, just let me know. Especially if something’s broken then I’ll get my son to fix it for you. He’ll always get it done faster for pretty girls, he’s useless that way. ”

Both of the women giggled as Dallas took the key from the woman. The blonde grabbed her bags from the floor, shooting Tommy and wink before heading upstairs to find her room. The older woman turned her attention to Tommy.

“ How many nights? ” The woman spoke but Tommy, not being fluent in Spanish, was caught off guard.

“Huh?”

“Oh, sorry. I was asking how many nights?”

“How much for a week?”

“You too?” She asked.

Tommy shrugged and nodded, figuring she must’ve been referring to the woman he just saw. ‘So she was staying a week as well.’

“It’s $600 for a normal and $1200 for a suite.”

Tommy didn’t have to think about it or better yet, didn’t really have the luxury to think about it. “Normal.”

The woman nodded. “Let me go get your key and call up to make sure the room’s ready.” She then shuffled back to the backroom, leaving Tommy in the lobby alone with nothing but the faint sounds of music playing.

‘What the fuck am I gonna tell him?’ He thought as he rubbed his temples. Tommy was a special case compared to everyone who worked for Sonny. Given their history, Tommy wasn’t someone who was scared of Sonny himself but more so annoyed by the temper tantrums he had when things didn’t go his way. Tommy was rarely on the unfortunate receiving end of those tantrums, instead, he was always the one that had to clean up whatever Sonny considered a mess.

It was annoying but it paid the bills. Being considered Sonny’s clean-up man was one of the main reasons that Tommy had some doubt about Sonny being the one who set him up. Was he overexaggerating? Jumping to conclusions? Probably. But Tommy Vercetti knew that job was a setup. There was nothing Sonny could gain from taking Tommy out of the picture, he was already the Don. Surely, Sonny’s insecurity hadn’t fallen THAT much.

There was no telling at this point in time, at least. All Tommy could do was wait everything out and see what unfolded, for someone to slip up. He was hoping it was going to be Harry or Lee that did it buuuuut...that’s not happening now, is it?

Tommy entered his new shelter for the new few days...or several weeks. The place really wasn’t that shabby. Given the street it was on, it seemed only right that the room was decent. This part of Vice City seemed like a tourist attraction, especially with a beach right across the street.

As much as he would like to enjoy the scenery, he had business to attend to.

Room Next Door

‘It’s not that bad I guess.’ Dallas thought.

To be fair, she didn’t expect much from this place, especially with Carlito’s voice of approval. Dallas didn’t care if people called her high maintenance with condescension. She went through a lot of harsh shit to be able to do what she does, in her eyes: she deserved to be pampered.

‘At least the lady was nice. And from the sounds of it, I might be able to get some free service from her son.’ The thought put a smirk on her face as she fell backward onto the bed. The ringing of the room’s phone brought the hitman out of her thoughts. ‘Must be Carlito.’

She picked up the phone and greeted the caller.“Room 102, how may I help you?” Dallas put on her best customer service voice.

“Funny,” Carlito replied. “How’s the room? Told you it wasn’t all that bad.”

“I expected nothing from your taste and I was still disappointed.” She joked.

“Whatever~. Anyways, I’m calling you cause I got a small job lined up for you.”

“Already? I thought you were visiting a girlfriend.”

“I am but momma had apparently been spreading the word, under the table of course, and she found you a gig.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, tomorrow there’s a yacht party happening. You’ll be attending with your special client .”

“Why don’t I just talk to them before we get to the party, then?”

“Nah, this is special, you’ll like this. Guy’s name is Archie Fisher, he’s some big-time real estate agent. I’ll explain the fun part to you tomorrow when I pick you up to drop him off...wear something a sleazebag would like.” Carlito said nothing more, hanging up the phone.

Dallas chuckled. Most hitmen worked alone but when you work for an organization like the Montoya Clan, handlers were essential. It was important to maintain a cover, especially in this day and age. Law enforcement was getting better at finding criminals, not too much but enough that people had to cover their tracks with a little more effort. It was no issue with Dallas and Carlito though. They’ve been treating this gig as a spy movie for years, it was a game to them. That was the reason that Momma considered them her favorites. That and the fact that Carlito and Dallas were actually blood-related to her.

The sound of a loud crash coming from a room next door snapped Dallas out of her thoughts. She didn’t know what was happening in the other room but it wasn’t her business. She merely shook her head and went to find something that a sleazebag would like for her outing tomorrow.

“Yacht party, huh? Been a while.” She spoke quietly, rummaging through her luggage. If she didn’t have anything here, she could always go shopping.

The first thing she pulled was a tight-fitting and short hemmed LaMe RaRa with a white-colored top and a gold skirt. As Dallas looked it over, she realized something.

“Fuck...what type of sleazebag is he?”

In her time doing this, she discovered that while they all end up being the same, they all had different tastes for specific reasons. For instance, she might wear tight-fitting business attire, one with a pencil skirt that had a tendency to rise up when luring in some gross business type. They usually liked the fantasy of exerting dominance over a woman in their office. Probably a Barbara who denied their advances one too many times or a Laura who’d been outworking him in everything.

Sometimes they’d like a woman who appeared to be an airhead. Twirling a finger in her hair and just so interested. Maybe they’d like someone more who appeared more introverted. The idea of turning out or being some shy bookish woman’s first. There were a lot of tastes that Dallas uncovered, it was an interesting thing to observe.

‘I should write a book when I retire, honestly.’

Next up was a black scrunched-up dress which Dallas held up to her face, examining it.

“Comfy buuut...too much?” She threw the dress on the bed. “Maybe just wear a bikini. I don’t need to stand out, right? Damn, this is always the tough part. Maybe I’m looking for the wrong outfit.”

She dug around in her bag again, this time pulling out a white bikini with a red anemone design decorating the right breast as well as the left side of the bikini bottoms.

“Where is the other piece to this?” She asked, shaking her head and tossing it on the bed with the other outfits. She sighed. “One more time, if I find nothing, I’m going shopping.”

The last outfit she pulled out was a black and white vintage-styled strapless swim dress. Looking over the swimsuit, a satisfied smile gradually grew on Dallas’ face before she let out a lazy chuckle.

“Perfect...almost.” She threw the swimsuit onto the bed and casually declared, “I need a hat...and a wig.”

Next Chapter ⏩

#The Lady Next Door #GTA fic #Tommy Vercetti x OC

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aoifessweets · 4 years

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you should tell us a little abt each one of ur oc's here,,u know-4 newcomers 👉👈

Oh ofc 😳 I only got a little bit done so its gonna be a long post.

1) Leonardo

He's Carolyns friend and a model she works with. He has low-key feelings for her but isnt sure how to approach it. He's Hungarian ethnicity but just kinda says he's American since he's always lived there. He would love though to see where his grandparents came from though! Its a big dream of his if he just gets the time. He's the shortest male oc I have at 5'6. And he owns 3 cats.

2) Carolyn

She's a professional photographer who's super into alt fashion, though she definetly deals with a bunch of bs since she's a black girl in the alt scene. She used to be on the track for her college till she injured her leg at a river area her and a few friends had went to during the summer of her junior year. She has used photography and photo editing to cope with the fact she had difficulty walking for a while as it kept her mind busy and off of any leg pains she had. She greatly enjoys the company of Leo and how sweet he is to come over and help with things when her chronic pains flare up.

3) Maéva

She was an aspiring actress till her manager turned out to be a huge asshole. She's from France originally and had moved to America to presue her dream. Now and days however she's still trying but its harder by herself while searching for a new and hopefully better manager. She's got a slight drinking habit as well as smoking, but she would like to quit at least the smoking for her girlfriend, Florella. She is part of a poly relationship with Florella and Nicolas, however her and Nicolas's relationship is strictly platonic as she leans more towards being with women romantically. She also has an OnlyFans....so do with that information as you will.

4) Florella

Still considering herself a baby witch, she currently works at a small witch shop as a sales associate. Very much a softy with a love of soft or neutral colors, as well as a love for small rodents. She owns 3 mice and a ferret, all named after Italian desserts. She's Italian American and the youngest of 5 children. She's 5 foot and tries not to get angry and such since she's very emotional and tends to be a mad cryer. She's actually really adventurous and loves to try and experience new things but only once you can get her out of her shell. She tends to be very reserved and modest until she knows someone better.

5) Nicolas

This jackass. This bastard man. Grew up with a shitty dad and no mother as she had passed from cancer when he was young. He only remembers having to see her in the hospital but he holds on very close to those memories. Has a sour attitude towards most people except Florella, and has a slight teasing but more relaxed relationship with Maéva. Anger is this mans middle name but he's worked extremely hard to have better control of it. He's of Spanish descent but doesn't really speak a lot of Spanish because his dad tried to teach him. He likes guns, knives, drinking, smoking, and fighting but never as much as he loves to actually have time to do artwork or write poetry as sappy as it seems to him. He's extremely talented however and tries to do commissions to help them all make extra money. He does help with Maéva's OnlyFans and takes pictures for her.

6) Margherita

She was a skater girl, she said see you later girl. Works at a clothing store in the local mall but really wants to quit since she hates it there. Her best friend and kinda fuckbuddy is César. They've known each other since middle school. Goes to college for Nursing, however high key she just wants to drop out and do stripping. Mostly because of how expensive college is. Enjoys partying over doing her homework and smoking only weed as everything else is trash. Says she Catholic but my goodness the heretic nature of things she decides to do is astronomical.

7) César

He's a local tattoo artist and music fanatic, he also helps his cousin with teaching her dance classes on the side. He's of Afro-Cuban decent and tends to get really excited over small animals. He considered becoming a vet but he physically can't bring himself to be near snakes as they're one of his biggest fears. He enjoys old cars, video games, and going to the skate park with Marghe. Though he hasn't been skating as long as her since he took a break for a few years, but he still finds a since of joy going there with her. Talks a lot with his hands and gets loudish when excited. But what can he say? He's an expressive man! He partially wants to presue a relationship with Marghe however does worrry that perhaps she wouldn't be interested in being exclusive. But he'll get the courage one day.

Sorry its so long but this is what I got so far 😳 I hope its good!!

#asks #florella #margherita #maéva #césar #leonardo #carolyn #nicolas #my ocs stuff #ocs #original character #original characters

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brattywriters-anonymous · 6 years

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A Rose in Harlem

Chapter two.

Oc x Erik story

Based on Teyana Taylor’s VII & KTSE

Warnings: Cursing, physical contact, feels!

Winter, 2013.

Syd cursed out as she felt the stinging pain of her broken and bloodied nail. Erik tried to grab her right arm, not even phased by the dark red bruise forming on his left cheek. Syd pulled her arm back and yelled, “Get off of me!” Erik pressed backward, throwing his hands up. Myles saw the disaster on Syd’s right index finger. “Oh, baby, That nail gotta come off!” He grabbed a fresh bottle of Dasani, poured the water on top of her finger. Diluted blood streamed down the concrete. “It hurts so bad! MM MM.” Syd shook her head over and over.

Erik approached her again, with napkins and a first aid kit. Before she could protest his presence, he grabbed her right hand, placing her index finger into the napkin. “Hey, Syeda. I am so sorry.” At first glance, she paid attention to his chest and the necklaces that were on display. He had a linked chain with a silver ring attached to it, and another smaller chain with the letter “N” on it. Then a sudden stinging sensation hit her injured finger. He put peroxide on it, to sterilize it. “That’s what you wanted to apologize for?” She yelped out in pain. She looked back up at his lips as they formed a wide smile. “Well, for that too. And for being too forward. I’m from Oakland baby, we state what we want. Closed mouths don’t get fed.” He wrapped her finger in the Band Aid, and kissed the uncovered part as he winked at her. She couldn’t deny what her body was doing in reaction to the care that he took for her in those few moments. In the December brisky yet-sunny weather, Syeda was feeling rather--hot. She briefly exhaled as he surrendered her hand.

After a successful meeting went completely south at the end, Syd retreated to her favorite local Coffee Shop. Harlem Coffee Co. She gotten Chai tea and a croissant. She needed to calm her nerves so after her 30 second encounter with “Erik” or whoever he is, “N!” She scoffed aloud before opening her macbook. She began to shuffle through photos that she took on her own, with a few models that were current students at her Alma mater, Columbia University, out to Highbridge for the official first shoot for UPTXWN. She wanted to represent not only Harlem, but all of uptown. Where it’s been, where it is, and where it’s going.So she did the first shoot on the High Bridge. She grabbed her Canon Rebel T5i that she bought herself for her birthday, and took some sunrise shots at 6 am on an early July morning. She really took the photos, and uploaded them to her laptop. She was too preoccupied with her showrunning position for fall fashion week that she didn’t even take the time out to edit them. They sat in her Macbook for over 5 months and it was about time that she started editing. Simultaneously, she was texting Myles informing him that the next shoots would be in Sugar Hill and Marcus Garvey Park and to blast the text and email out of a 10:00 am call time for the Following Wednesday and Thursday.

MYles🧡💁🏾‍♂️✨

Are you okay? I know you broke that nail pretty bad.

Yeah. 😩It hurts, but I’m good.

Alright. I’m sending the texts out now, emails will be out by tonight, l8r.✌🏾

Syd took a sip of her tea she saw a name pop up on her laptop, coming from a contact, “Sin”

Sin

Syd, it’s Yasin. The plumber. I know you said you’ll let me know if you’re free for a late lunch. You free now?

Syd read over each word then she saw three dots pop up at the bottom of the screen.

Sin

…

Turn around👀

Syd’s face turned into one of confusion. She made a 180 to see Yasin sitting on a table in the corner of the shop. She smiled as he motioned her over to him. She retrieved her belongings and walked over to the booth. “I was just about to ask you to meet me at my favorite coffee shop, and here you are. Girl, you must be an angel or somethin’.” Yasin drew across the table to her direction, he motioned out to her right hand and saw the Band Aid. “What happened Syd? You okay?” She brushed it off. “Yeah it’s fine, this guy was being a complete asshole so I socked his ass.” Yasin’s eyes fanned completely opened when she told him what happened. “Oh, so you fight guys out here?” He sat back in his chair. She reached out for his hand and honestly stated, “Only if I have to.” and smiled. Yasin side eyed Syeda, trying to get a read on her. She came off so mysterious. As old vinyl records of 90s and early 2000s music sprawled out on the living room area floor of her apartment ran across his mind, he grabbed her hand and asked, “So what you about, Syd?”

Yasin and Syd spent the next 3 hours discussing education, Islam, politics, and polyamory. Sin let Syd know that just because his mother allowed it and his father participated, doesn’t means that it was what he wanted out of life. “I’m 27 years old, it’s time that I find the right woman to build a family with. To live the life that Allah gifted to us.” Syd was about to be 25 her next birthday in two months. She let Sin know that even though she understood the overall benefit of having a 3 or more person income household, she wanted something that was exclusively hers. “I share my creativity with the world. I share my image to the world. I don’t want to share my love to the world too. I want something sacred.” Yasin nodded as he paused and took a look at his watch. “Oh shit. Ma, you lucky I got finished with all of my clients before I got here, I would’ve been late to all of em by now. It’s 6 pm.” Syd scanned over to the top right corner of her Macbook 6:30 pm. She’d only gotten half of the pictures done, so it looked like she was going to be pulling another all nighter. “Oh, I’m Sorry.” She started packing up her things and getting up. “I have to finish this anyway. So I’m gonna go back home.” Yasin stood with her and assisted her out of the booth. They walked out to a beautiful orange sunset, almost complete. Syd’s hair blew along with the wind again. As she swept the hair out of her face, Yasin reached his arms out and pulled her in slowly. “I had fun today Syd. To think, we met earlier this morning to you cussing me out.” Syd playfully nudge his shoulder. “Yeah, you were late. Which in turn, made me late for my business meeting.” “Let me make it up to you.” She tried to back away but his grip trumped her attempts. “How?” She raised an eyebrow. “Let me take you out tomorrow night. My homie is having a block party up Washington Heights. You wanna slide through?” Sin looked her in her eyes, she couldn’t evade his staring. Syd responded by slightly pecking him on the lips. “Sure.”

Syeda wrestled with her keys, finding the door key to let her into the building of 63 Morningside Avenue. She finally unlocked the hallway door, she sat at the bottom of the stairs to take off her extended high heels. She overheard Ziggy talking to Erik, “Yo I don’t know what you were thinking earlier, man. Syd don’t play.” She smiled when Zig made the infamous statement. She scurried up the steps and tried to silently unlock her door. CLINK! Her keys fell to the ground and all chatting stopped across the hall. The door opened. “Syd.” Her name sounded like honey coming from Erik’s lips. She slightly closed her eyes to it. She turned to face Apartment 2B. “N.” “N?” Erik was puzzled. She pointed at her own neck. “Your necklace.” He looked down and jumped. “Oh. Yeah. My father’s side of the family is from Africa. My African name is N’Jadaka. Zig is my cousin on my mom’s side.” he pointed over to 2B.

Syd looked stunned, shocked. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just figured you were lying about--” “About what? My name?” he chuckled. “Nah lil mama. Besides, I don’t think I could lie to you even if I wanted to.” She exhaled. It was light but still heavy enough for Erik to hear. She took a step backward into her apartment but as soon as she hit the closed door, she yelped. “OUCH!” She held her right hand with her left, dropping her heels. Erik immediately stepped in and grabbed her shoes. “Here, let me help you out.” He turned the key and opened the door. Syd turned the light on in the foyer area. “Thank you, N’Jadaka.” She repeated his name in a smooth manner that was pleasing to his ears. “You’re welcome, mooie bloem.” Syd perked up when she heard the familiar dutch nickname that Mr. V gave her. “Yeah, when you bumped into me, I stood by the stairwell..in shock I guess.” He laughed and continued, “I heard him call you beautiful flower in his language. I’m intrigued. Why?” Syd closed the door behind her and locked it, figuring that he was staying for a while, because he walked further into the studio, by her couch.

She placed her keys on the hanger beside the door, shimmied her bubble coat off, placing it on a misplaced dining room chair. “My middle name. It’s Mariposa. The cuban national flower. My mom was Cuban and African American. Afro latina. She was born in Cuba. Her and her family moved to Philadelphia when she was 8. Her father converted to Islam, her and the rest of the family soon followed. She met my dad, He’s also Afro Latino. They had me, Syeda Mariposa Diaz.”

Erik marveled at her story, appreciated that she knew her ancestry. “You have a beautiful name. So your mom honored her Cuban background and gave you an Islamic name?” He finally took a seat, awaiting her response. She nodded and sat next to him, “Yup. That was the idea.” He reached for her right hand, “May I?” She hesitated, then gave in, “Don’t break any of my other nails! They charge for fixing broken nails!” Syd looked Erik in his eyes, smiling. He grasped her hand and kissed it with the same tenderness as he did earlier and finally spoke, “Never.” She blinked a couple times to get herself out of the trance she found herself in after his lips left her hand, she actually had to look away from him as he removed the Band Aid from her finger.

“I heard your right hand man, he said you have to remove the nail. You haven’t done that yet.” He held her finger closer to her overhead lamp so he could further investigate. “Hell no! It hurts. I was going to go to the nail shop to get it removed.” “For what? So they can charge you for something you could’ve done? Nah. I gotchu.” He quickly stepped out of her studio. She shot up and began to panic a bit.

Oh my gosh! Syd, what are you doing?! You just letting this man take care of you like some damsel… Even though he is the reason why you’re hurt.---He Looks so damn GOOD though. Damn. He can’t be in here for too long!

Syd attempted to press the power button on her phone but it didn’t turn on. Signaling that it died. “Shit.” She mumbled. She shuffled around the back end of the studio where her bed and nightstand were. She reached over the opposite side of her bed, closest to her window, for her charger. She heard a laugh and turned over in fear. “Damn. My apologies Syd. It’s just me. I needed my first aid kit. You got tweezers right?” She pulled herself off of her queen sized mattress and retrieved her manicure kit from her bathroom. “In here.”

“AHHHH!” Syd exclaimed as Erik used the tweezers to pull the remaining acrylic off of Syd’s bleeding finger. “There. The bleeding should definitely stop after this.” He sprayed the alcohol on a cotton swab and patted on her nail bed. She squealed in shock as he wrapped a new Band Aid on her patched up digit. She took her hand back, relieved that the pain is subsiding. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” “You’re welcome. No sweat. I was in the Navy. I helped out injured people all the time. I’m used to it.” Erik spat out as he returned the manicure kit back in the bathroom, washing his hands. Once he dried them he clapped them together, and cut the light off. “Okay beautiful. Don’t go slapping other niggas upside the head. I gotta bounce.” Syd followed his trail to her front door, “Bye Erik. Thank you again.”

🌹

#erik killmonger x oc #erik killmonger imagine #erik kilmonger imagines #erik killmonger #black panther fanfiction #erik stevens #n'jadaka #black panther imagine #black panther imagines #fanfic #arih #black panther au

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welcometogrouchland · 2 years

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I AM SORT OF BLANKING ON THE SPECIFICS BUT!!!! true to form i come bearing music fun facts! dizzy gillespie: cool dude (he's the one w the bent trumpet and the puffy cheeks) and he was like a developer/founder (developer is a weird sounding word to use in this context but my brain isn't in smart mode rn sorry) of bebop and afro-cuban jazz (for the former, Salt Peanuts Salt Peanuts. and for the latter, Manteca was one of the most well known songs it's very good). bebop is like jazz but "fuck you try dancing to THIS" and was much more experimental on the technical music side. afro-cuban jazz combined elements of jazz, like the instruments and the improvisation-y stuff, and afro-latino things like the clave rhythms. secondly astor piazzola, he did nuevo tango which was like tango but MORE than traditional tango, mixing it w western ish music and technically speaking, doing more adventurous stuff in the music (to put it very very simplified, it's sort of like tango but also with jazz/bebop). also you may think he played accordion, BUT HE DOES NOT! he plays bandoneón. i hope i have not made these dudes roll in their graves with my ridiculously and probably poorly abbreviated summary of their musical feats, but here ya go!

Fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes MUSIC RECS AND FACTS IN ONE BABY!!!! I LOVE IT HERE IRIS YOU'RE THE BEST! I love hearing abt music genres w/ unique histories and getting recs hehe. I know music is collaborative and evolves over time but Dizzie Gillespie being credited with originating/influencing at least THREE different new genres of music?? Off the shits. I'm so happy for him. And I'm definitely gonna listen to the second guy I really enjoy tango 👀

#ramblings of a lunatic #asks #listening to instrumental music is fun i should do it more #lyrics r one of my favourite parts of songwriting but i also know that really- genre aside- my taste in music boils down to just.#being high energy and at least a little catchy?#so i am very excited to check these out! idk how high energy they are i know a lot of jazz is also really mellow but we'll see!#also. Dizzie Gillespie is an EXCELLENT name #i looked him up to see what the bent trumpet was referring to (and can conclude that that is INDEED a very bent trumpet)--#-and one of the search results was how he got the nickname dizzie #which says the following: Gillespie's penchant for clowning and capriciousness earned him the nickname Dizzy.#HE GOT IT FOR JUST BEING A SILLY GOOFY GUY #incredible. wish i was him #I've used capslock a lot throughout this post and am suddenly self conscious.#ah well! what can you do #anyway. playlist time ehehe

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punkfistfights · 7 years

Text

and the beat goes on - chapter 1

Pairings: Cassandra Cain/Stephanie Brown, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Koriand’r/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Conner Kent, Barbara Gordon/Dinah Laurel Lance, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Kara Danvers, Dick Grayson & Barbara Gordon, past Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon, background Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, background Kara Danvers/Cassie Sandsmark, mentioned Artemis Crock/Megan Morse

Characters: Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Wally West, Koriand’r | Kory Anders, Roy Harper, Conner Kent, Megan Morse, Bruce Wayne, Dinah Lance, Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Selina Kyle, Cassie Sandsmark, Diana Prince, Garfield Logan, Rachel Roth | Raven, Victor Stone, Helena Bertinelli, Zinda Blake

Warnings: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Nonlinear Timeline, One-Shots, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Queerplatonic Relationship, Race Changes, Japanese!Stephanie, Japanese!Tim, Mexican!Jason, Black!Wally, Afro-Cuban!Barbara, Mental Health Issues, Bipolar Disorder, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentioned Child Abuse, Neurodivergence, Autistic Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Female Character, Queer Themes, Disabled Character

Summary: The band Bats Out of Hell is one of vast popularity in the United States and UK - but it’s also one that is knee-deep in scandal and has been since its inception, when it was a trio: singer Dick Grayson, guitarist Babs Gordon, and drummer Jason Todd.

After ten years of being together, the band has split and reformed in so many ways but with one constant: Bruce Wayne is its manager and he makes sure it succeeds.

Notes: this is a fucking labor of love, guys. i love this au, i love these characters, and i love the way it’s forming. it’s gonna be a pretty angsty fic at times, but mostly it’ll be just fun!

oh, and everyone’s either queer, a poc, neurodivergent, disabled, or all four (babs).

{read on ao3}

i. band bonding - part one

“Stephanie, was it necessary for you to end the show by kissing my daughter and flipping off the paparazzi?” Bruce asked, a grumble to his words.

Steph shrugged from where she was sprawled across the couch, her head resting on Cass’s stomach with Cass’s long fingers stroking through her newly-dyed blonde curls, and her feet bare and in Tim’s lap. Tim was working on painting them, an almost comically adorable expression of concentration on his face as he focused on her pinkie toe. “Yeah, kinda,” she said. “I’m tired and, more importantly, Cass is tired of them claiming we’re ‘gal pals’, whatever the fuck that means.”

Bruce scowled and it grew as Selina, his wife, and Damian, his son, walked in right as Steph cursed. “How old are you, Stephanie?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “You know how old I am, boss-man. I’m sorry I was ‘immature’ or whatever.” She smiled lazily as Cass continued to play with her long locks.

Damian shook his little head. “Tt, father, why are you bothering with Fatgirl? She doesn’t care.”

“Fuck you very much, mini-asshole,” Steph said without missing a beat. Cass stopped her ministrations to slap her on the shoulder and, when Steph looked up at her with a pout on her face, arch an eyebrow. “Ugh, I’m sorry, D. You know I love you.”

A strangled laugh escaped Tim’s throat as Damian scowled at her. Dick, Wally, and Duke chose this moment to walk in. “Who do you love, Steph?” Dick asked.

“Baby D. He’s my favorite little asshole,” Steph said, winking at him.

“Steph, darling, perhaps you should stop calling Damian an asshole before Bruce officially loses his shit,” Selina said, not bothering to stifle her amusement. When her husband turned to her, a dark expression on his face, she simply smirked and blew him a kiss.

“Fine, ‘Li,” Steph said, pouting at Selina.

Selina sent her a wink. “Anyway, I came to get you, Bruce. It’s band bonding time and, by unanimous decision, you’re not allowed to be present,” she said, setting her hand on the wide slope of her curvaceous hip.

Bruce looked taken aback. “When was this decided?”

“Last week,” Dick said as he flopped onto the loveseat, pulling Wally down with him. Duke shook his head and laughed as he sat down in a much more sedate manner. “Sorry, B, but you make Wally uncomfy and Steph and Jay get all antagonistic.”

He didn’t look at all sorry.

“Come on, love. You, Damian, and I are going to the theatre and then dinner,” Selina said, dropping her hand from her hip and reaching forward to capture Bruce’s wrist. “I gave Alfie the night off and everything.”

Bruce looked like he was going to protest for a moment, but decided not to. Instead he just shook his head. “Fine,” he said. Try not to cause a scandal.” Steph wasn’t sure if he was addressing Dick or all of them with that last sentence, but she nodded anyways.

“We got you! Go be domestic and shit with your son and wife,” Steph said, lazily saluting him.

Bruce just rolled his eyes again before turning to Duke. “Don’t let things get out of hand.”

“Hey!” Dick exclaimed, an offended look crossing his face. “Why are you telling Duke that? I’m the oldest!”

“And Duke’s the least likely to get into a fight with a member of the paparazzi,” Bruce retorted, sending his adopted-son a look.

No one could argue with that.

After one last narrow-eyed glare at them, Bruce allowed Selina to guide him out of the room and Steph released a bright laugh.

“So,” she began, sitting up but not moving her feet from Tim’s lap, “now that Bruce is gone, let’s have some fun.” She smirked. “I vote...club.”

“Ugh, but clubs mean paparazzi and judgement,” Tim complained.

Duke snorted and rolled his eyes. “Tim, we’re famous. Everything means paparazzi and judgement.”

Wally barked out a laugh and, now that Bruce was gone, relaxed into Dick’s side. “I mean, Duke has a point.”

“Come on guys,” Steph wheedled. “I wanna dance and get wasted.”

Cass made a soft sound. “Steph is right. We should dance.”

Steph sent the group a victorious look. No one would argue when Cass said she wanted something, they all had a soft spot for her (and in turn Cass had a soft spot for Steph and always would).

“Fine,” Dick said, “But I’m gonna call and invite Jay, Kory, and Roy.”

“Only if I get to invite Con!” Tim said.

“Duh. And I’m inviting Babs, Dinah, Kara, and Cassie,” Steph said. “This is gonna be hella.”

“So, let’s go get ready and meet back here in two hours,” Tim said. “Anyone know what club we’re going to?”

“Yeah,” Steph said, grinning. “Helena invited me to hers, so that’s where we’re heading.”

Dick grinned. “Sweet! I’ve been dying to check that place out. ‘Lena always has the best booze!”

#my writing #stephcass #batfam #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #and the beat goes on #rock band au

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