#BUT TELEMUNDO DID SO GOOD

[mosaic-marquise]

For the record only reason I was not running in circles after the great boopening is because me browser updated and my ass was logged tf outta here. I go unwillingly >O< !!! Anyways- BACK!!!! I HOPE PPL COULD SEE THE SOLAR ECLIPSE >W<

[astroboots]

Hmmm ok maybe the three of them going on holiday and making good use of a hotel room and balcony 😉

STRIP POKER

Summary: The trio goes on a beach holiday only to get trapped in their hotel room and you end up playing strip poker.

Rating: Explicit, DP with Frankie's giant cock which needs a warning of itself.

Warning: Writer has no fucking clue about poker (or any card games) and it fucking shows. She did research and friends and family tried to explain it to her but that only confused her more.

Pairing: Frankie x female reader (you) x Santiago

Word Count: 5k

Homecoming Universe | Astroboot’s Masterlist

It's raining outside.

A violent smattering of rain so aggressive it sounds like the window panes are getting the beating of its life.

Frankie sighs. $250 a night for a hotel room with a seaside view and it's just fucking pouring down.

He is standing outside on the balcony, still within safe shelter from the rain. Leaning his elbow against the balcony rail, he peers down at the perfect aquamarine water that glitters like a precious gem underneath, out of reach.

It's his first proper holiday from work in years, and he'd thought it'd be nice to splurge a bit. Big king-sized bed. Hotel Spa. Beach access.

It would have been perfect. And at first it seemed to be. Gorgeous sun as far as the eye could see when the plane touched ground on the tarmac. Then it started raining, and it just didn't stop. Torrential -- there's a typhoon warning on the weather forecast that everyone is recommended to stay inside -- kind of rain.

He throws a glance behind his shoulder, back at the hotel room where Santiago is draped across the large king sized bed with a thick novel he picked up from the airport. Santiago is about three quarters in, which means there's an hour, maybe less, before he's finished.

After that there will be nothing to distract the man and it's only a matter of time before Santiago will get restless. God knows what he'll get up to then.

For once, Frankie won't blame him.

Stuck in a small room with nothing but reruns of telemundo and shitty overpriced hotel service club sandwiches to keep everyone distracted. Frankie's pretty sure that he's going to follow suit with a case of cabin fever not long after Santiago.

From the corner of his eyes, he spots you stomp over to the bed where Santiago is lying. He can't hear what you're saying, but you're waving your hands around animatedly. Santiago immediately puts his novel face-down against the mattress, then he shakes his head adamantly at whatever it is you are saying.

Out of the three of you it looks like your patience was the first to snap.

Your arms cross across your chest, feet stomping down in dismay. Then you turn in the direction of the balcony and Santiago is immediately shooting to his feet to preempt you. He outruns you across the room and flings open the balcony door.

"Frank! Tell your wife it's a bad idea!"

Frankie rolls his eyes at the dramatic outburst. Oh it's his wife now that you have a bad idea, is it?

Cocking his head to the side, Frankie looks to you over Santiago's shoulder. "What's a bad idea baby?"

"Let's go out!" You announce. "So what if it's raining? We can go for a quick swim anyhow. It'll still be warm."

Frankie blinks. He casts his eyes over the cascade of rain that has turned the once white sand into grey sludge. Catches sight of the parasols on the beach that has been uprooted by the winds and are flying wildly, a scene straight out of that 'Twister' movie with Helen Hunt he saw as a kid.

There aren't many occasions in your life together that Frankie has ever said no to you. This though might be one of those rare ones.

"Baby," he starts, voice soft as to cajole you. "That's a bad idea."

You throw your hands out in a dramatic gesture as you stalk your way back inside the room. Frankie barely catches the tail end of your sentence but he hears the string of swears to understand the sentiment of it.

Frankie's left with only Santiago for company on the balcony. The man calmly walks up to the end next to him, leaning out against the railing to assess the weather outside.

To Frankie's surprise, Santiago doesn't say anything. Seemingly content with the companionable silence and the sound of rain smattering all around them. There are no bratty complaints about paying hundreds of dollars only to watch rain. No witty snark.

"You're being uncharacteristically well behaved," Frankie says.

Santiago grins. "I've had a lifetime of experience sitting out shitty weather with nothing to do during missions, Frank. At least this time, I don't have to listen to Firefly's snores."

Frankie snorts at the memory.

"There's much worse things in life than having you and Boa cooped up with me in a fancy hotel room."

There's something soft in Santiago's eyes as he says it. A sentimentality in his voice that Frankie has a hard time placing, because he can't quite recall when Santiago has ever used it with him before.

Before Frankie has a chance to recuperate from blanking out and think of something to say back, Santiago is already leaning away from the balcony to step back inside the room towards you.

"Come on sweetheart. Stop being a brat," he says and playfully swats your backside with a gentle tap that makes you jump.

Santiago leans over the desk and opens a drawer to pull out a pack of cards that he cracks open and your eyes light up at the sight of it.

"If you're bored, let's play a game, yeah?"

In his own humble opinion, Frankie's never been particularly good at poker. He's got the poker face part down, but he never had an interest for gambling and the rules of the game never quite made sense to him.

Santiago on the other hand is a master of it. He's the undefeated champion during their military days and he regularly cleaned out everyone's savings on any given night.

As for you. Competitive as you are, as with every game that you've played more than twice -- you got good at it with practice, but the poker face bit of it is something you are still struggling severely with, because it's always written as plain as day on your face if you have a good or bad hand.

So in a game of strip poker, it's a bit surprising that two hours in, Santiago is the one sat in his underwear, while you and Frankie are still fully clothed.

Frankie's down to his t-shirt and briefs, whereas you have only lost your right sock.

In all honesty, Frankie doesn't quite understand it. Because right now you're sitting across Santiago, a grin so wide you are going to end up with muscle soreness in your cheeks. It's a sign the size of a massive billboard on Time Square lit up in neon and flashing lights that the hand you've been dealt with is good as gold. Yet, despite all the clear signs pointing to only one very clear and undeniable conclusion, for some unfathomable reason, Santiago still refuses to fold.

He tips his chin up in challenge towards you. "What you got sweetheart?"

That grin of yours grow impossibly wider as you set down your cards, revealing them one by one on the wooden floor where you're sat.

First a diamond 8. Then a ace of heart. Then an ace of diamond. Santiago's defiant features fall, pearly white teeth sinking into that pouty lip as he watches you put down a club ace. And as you put down the final card: An ace of spade. Santiago groans in defeat.

"You're cheating," he mumbles indignantly. But his fingers are already dragging his sole remaining garment down over his hips to the sound of your cackling laugh.

If Frankie's eyes linger for a little longer than they should at the round ample curve of Santiago's ass, you don't notice over your absolute glee in defeating the man.

You're already hooting with joy as Santiago demands another round, metaphorically kicking the man when he's already down.

"And what exactly are you going to gamble with for the re-match? You're butt fucking naked Santiago!"

"We'll do different stakes," Santiago shoots back.

"Like what?"

"I'll do whatever you say."

It's like a pin drops in the space between you. Your laughter stops.

"Whatever?" you repeat.

There's a glint in your eye that even Frankie can tell is dangerous, and only an idiot (a competitive idiot) would still go ahead when met with that look on your face.

Santiago is seemingly that idiot.

"Whatever," he confirms. "Carte blanch. Nothing's off the table."

The devious smile on your lips doesn't wane for even a second. You take the deck of cards back into your hands and shuffle them.

"You're on."

Tense is an understatement to describe the next half hour that unfolds in the hotel room.

For a game that was meant to be a fun distraction from the rain outside, it's now turned into something else entirely.

Rundown gambling dens by the border of Colombia are less intimidating than what is going on between you and Santiago right now.

"Antique markets every Sunday at 6am for a month," you threaten him. Santiago practically twitches at the scene you're painting. His fingers grip on tighter on his hand of cards.

You grin at the sign of weakness.

"Oh and you're calling Martina about that time you blamed her for stealing booze from your mom but it was really you."

"What?" Santiago pipes up in alarm, with no trace of his trademark coolness that he usually has for these games. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Whatever I say," you remind him. "Those were the terms."

Santiago seethes. Gritting his teeth as he shakes his head and sits back down firmly on the ground. "Sure," he mumbles like a petulant child. "Whatever. Show your hand already."

You scoot closer to Santiago, cards tucked close to your chest with a smile so wide it lights up the whole room with it.

The first card that comes down is a club of 9. The next is a 10 in the same suit.

Frankie can already see the small muscle in Santiago's cut jaw flex before the man drags his hand over it in a tell-tale sign of displeasure that both you and Frankie recognize all too well.

Normally Frankie would say that with that look on your face, Santiago is in a whole world of trouble.

Normally.

The face of Jack is staring up at the three of you from the floor, and before you even put down the final two cards, Santiago and Frankie both already knows that it is going to be a Queen and a King dressed in black club.

You fling down the duo triumphantly and you're already listing out loud every embarrassing act you are going to force Santiago to endure. There are threats of toilet scrubbing. Brunches with Frankie's mom. Attending a taxidermy class with you.

It lasts for several minutes before you lean down to start gathering the cards to put them away.

"Sweetheart, slow down."

Santiago reaches over. His free hand that's not holding the cards, cupping over yours to stop you. There's a slow and almost gentle smile that spreads across his lips.

Then Santiago finally drops the act.

"I haven't shown my cards yet have I?" he says.

From the way that your smile fades. The way the bright light in your eyes dim, you know it too. The bastard played you. Has been playing you this whole evening, right into his conniving and clever hands.

Frankie suspected as much.

After all, Santiago is brilliant at poker. Undefeated for as long as he's known the man.

As good as you may have gotten with practice, there was no way your long and uninterrupted winning streak of this entire evening was from sheer luck. Especially not when Santiago has not shown his hand a single time this evening.

10 of hearts. Jack of Hearts. Queen and King dotted with red hearts above their crown. Then finally an Ace in the shape of hearts.

A royal flush.

"Soooo," Santiago starts with a slow and meaningful drawl as he grins back at you.

"Whatever I say huh?"

Frankie should probably put a stop to this.

Because you look like you're about to kill someone.

You're kneeling on the floor, tucked between Frankie's legs, as Santiago is right behind you, plastered closely to your back.

The man can't resist the urge to tease you, even if it is under imminent threat to his life. Santiago's nimble fingers tuck a loose curl of your hair behind your ear before pressing a kiss to it.

"You're scaring poor Frankie," he tuts. "It's not good manners to stare daggers at a man when you're inches from his cock, sweetheart."

That comment doesn't make you look any less like a murderess to be.

"Frank," Santiago calls out. "Take out your cock."

Frankie sighs as he reaches for his belt to unbuckle. One hand reaches underneath his boxers as he pulls himself out. He doesn't know why he lets either of you constantly rope you into these situations.

God he feels fucking ridiculous.

"Look at how nice and obedient our husband is being," Santiago goads as his hand comes to your jaw, bridging the span of it. Then he gently tilts you downwards to guide your face forward until you're lips are mere inches from Frankie's cock.

As if by instinct, without further instructions, your mouth already parts for him. Just the sight of your glistening tongue makes the entirety of Frank's back tingle.

He can't help it. It's sense memory at this point.

The tip of your tongue darts out, but before you make any physical contact, Santiago stops you.

"Not yet," he says.

His arm curls around the front of your chest, pulling you back again with an expression of pure schadenfreude.

"I'm gonna have to have you ask nicely for it, sweetheart. Ask Frank to let you suck his cock."

Frankie nearly rolls his eyes at Santiago. The man just has to rub it in doesn't he? Insufferable brat.

If he was Santiago, he'd sleep with one eye open tonight.

Still for all his teasing, it could be so much worse. Not to defend Santiago and his idiocy. But in comparison to what you had in mind for the man, Santiago is going more than easy on you. This is mild for the man.

You must know it too, because you don't protest. Barely even hesitate as you gaze up at Frankie, through your thick lashes, dutifully and do as you're told.

"Please can I suck your cock, Francisco?"

Shit.

Excitement pings across his nerves at your words.

This is a ridiculous situation. Frankie shouldn't get turned on.

But he can't help himself. not when he feels the warmth of your breath exhale gently over his cock and the stupid thing immediately stirs into rapt attention.

Your hands reach over, fingers wrapping around his girth. Frankie doesn't even get a chance to savor it before Santiago is already grabbing for your wrists.

Cock-blocker.

"Nuh, uh," Santiago admonishes. "No hands".

You don't fight him on it. Your hands withdraw to your sides and you keep them there obediently, as you lean down the rest of the way, until your soft gorgeous lips press down against Frankie's quickly hardening cock.

Heat spears through his stomach at your touch.

Soft and almost chaste, your lips linger on his cock and it has Frankie immediately swelling to full hardness, until he can feel it twitching against your soft cheek.

Your tongue darts out, the pink tip gliding along a protruding vein as you pamper his cock with your full attention. Lapping, sucking and kissing at the spot with a quiet moan before you finally move along and slip the head of his cock between your lips.

Dizzying pleasure punches through him and for a brief second, even sat on the bed, Frankie thinks he might pass out from the overwhelming sensation. His mind is in the process of drifting and floating out of his body and away from the room. The only thing that still keeps him tethered to consciousness is Santiago's voice. The gentle mocking praise that spills from the man's filthy mouth.

"Isn't our sweet girl good?" Santiago asks him. "Doing such a good job isn't she?"

Frankie wants to say yes. But his tongue is heavy in his mouth, and he's gone dumb with pleasure to the point that he's forgotten how to speak.

In front of him, Santiago is having the time of his life (because of course the bastard is). There is a sly smile on his lips as that clever hand of his palms the small of your back. He traces the length of your spine until his hand disappears under the edge of your panties.

It doesn't take much detective work for Frankie to guess what Santiago is doing to you as you moan keenly around his cock.

"Look at her isn't she so pretty sucking your cock, Frank?"

For all that the man keeps coddling you with his words, cooing and hushing you with a soothing cadence, Santiago doesn't show you much leniency. His hand isn't stopping, even as you whimper and shake from his touch. He doesn't let up.

Even from Frankie's obscured view from the bed, he can see Santiago's fingers working into you. Finding every perfect angle that has tears stinging in the corner of your eyes until they gaze up pleadingly at Frankie with a wet glossy sheen.

Fuck, you're so fucking pretty like this.

"So fucking perfect for us. I think my only criticism is she gets so easily distracted", he teases as your hips cant up to chase his hand, for Santiago to give you more.

All Frankie can manage is a desperate groan in return. His head tilts back as the overwhelming sensation washes over him. Hips canting deeper into your mouth to have more of your lips, your tongue, more of… anything that you are willing to give him.

Your throat protests at the thick intrusion, swallowing in fits around Frankie. You whine, trying to pull back but Santiago is there pushing you forward with another encouraging string of praise.

Frankie can see the man work his fingers deeper into you and your body is wracked in another series of shivers, mouth parting until his cock slip out. You try to cover your mouth with your hand to stop a moan that breaks out, but Santiago's hand immediately shoot out to grab your wrist again to secure it to your side.

"That won't do. Put your pretty mouth back on Frank's big cock sweetheart."

"Santiago," you protest throwing him a menacing glare, a second away from telling him that it's his fault to begin with.

"Whatever I say," Santiago reminds you, parroting your own taunting words from before. "Those were the terms."

You bite your lip with a pout that is all too similar to Santiago.

In moments like this, Frankie is reminded of the closeness of the two of you. How inextricably intertwined you two are having grown up together. Two sides of the same stubborn, competitive coin. And god he loves both of you.

Swallowing your bruised pride, you bend over again, parting your lips to put your mouth back on his cock.

Heat spears through him until his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. The last thing he sees before they do is Santiago's eyes gazing back at him.

Even behind closed eyes Frankie can't get away from it. Santiago's sweet and murmured praises as he talks about how good you are. How pretty you look. In the dark it's easy for the lines to be blurred enough that Frankie isn't entirely sure who Santiago is directing the praise at anymore. And that makes it even better.

When Frankie opens his eyes again, blinking away at the watery edges of his sanity, Santiago is right there.

One hand palming languidly at his own cock as he observes Frankie and you.

He smiles at Frankie, holding the eye contact before he moves to position himself behind you, gripping at your hips. Cock lined up and nudging against the cleft of your ass, taking his sweet fucking time like he's putting on a show for Frankie's benefit to make sure he catches every single detail. Then he pushes forward, into you.

You gasp at the new intrusion, hands flying to Frankie's hips to keep yourself steady as Santiago thrusts forward. The momentum forces your entire body further onto Frankie's cock.

It's a struggle for you to keep your mouth on him and it's a maddening sensation for Frankie. The way your tongue darts out, desperately licking and sucking around the tip of him as best as you can. All the while the man is taunting you with unrestrained glee in his tone.

"It's not too much is it cariño? You can do it. You can take me and Frankie both can't you? Be our good girl, don't stop. Keep going."

And fuck, you don't stop. Your mouth envelops the length of his cock. inch by inch as Frankie watch in delirious fascination as the thick girth disappears between your lips.

You take in so much of him, Frankie has a momentary thought of how you even manage to fit it. Then he feels himself hit the back of your throat.

Christ, Frankie's not particularly religious but he's pretty sure he sees heaven as his cock nudges the back of your throat.

Still you continue, past your limits, eyes watering as you swallow desperately around him.

"Good girl. Such a good fucking girl," Santiago repeats, as he grinds his hips into you.

His hand rests on your back, sweeping your hair to one side until your neck is bare. Then he leans over, his chest pressed along your back and presses a kiss onto your nape.

It's such a sweet gesture, completely at odds with what the man is doing to you in this moment. Then his hips come to a still, an indicator that Santiago is well on his way to implement phase two of whatever devious plan he has for the three of you tonight.

Because Frankie knows Santiago. Better than you know Santiago sometimes, it seems. He knows him well enough that what has transpired so far is just the appetizer for what's to come.

That's just Santiago. Always a step ahead of everyone else. Always an opportunist to the core, his mind is always considering and assessing and re-evaluating the situation for changes.

It's where you lose to him. You get too honed in and narrow minded, your eyes too focused on the prize in front of you. Your mind always too occupied with thoughts of winning the battle while Santiago has his eye on the horizon to emerge victorious from the war.

In front of him, Santiago's hand comes to your cheek cupping you gently as he pulls you off Frankie's cock to your confusion.

"So good for us. You wanna claim your prize hmm?" Santiago murmurs in your ear ominously.

With one arm wrapped around your front, the man lifts you up and guides you to your feet. Then he's maneuvering you onto the bed, arranging you to his liking until you're sat in Frankie's lap.

He curls his fingers around Frankie's cock, like it's a trophy for you to claim and guides Frankie to your slick and waiting entrance, until the blunt tip is nudging against your wet clit.

That clever hand steady at the small of your back, in a steady but firm pace until the entirety of Frankie's cock is fully sheathed inside you.

Fuck.

You feel so fucking good. Warm, slick and so fucking perfect. Frankie thinks he's going to lose his mind with it.

His brain cells are melting with pleasure inside his skull and he can barely pay enough attention with the way you're clutched so tightly around his cock to register that Santiago isn't next to you anymore. He's gone off somewhere, fuck knows where, as Frankie palms the soft curves of your hips to press you firmly down on him, pushing as deep as he goes.

Frankie can't stop long enough to think much else, except for the sweet pace that you're rocking forward on his cock with. He's lost in it. Drunk and inebriated on the way you feel in his arms as he rocks you up and down on his cock that he barely even notices when Santiago's back again.

This time with a bottle of lube in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Of course, that's where the clever bastard went.

"San--" you start, but your voice is cut off at the long drag of Frankie's cock inside of you as he thrusts up again.

Santiago's smile spreads even wider, predatory. "What sweetheart? Don't you want your reward?"

Frankie can hear the click of the bottle, two seconds before he registers the way that Santiago's hand slips between your legs again, and then he fucking feels it. The pressure of Santiago's finger as he presses inside of you, and fuckfuck--shit! It knocks the fucking breath out of Frankie's lungs.

The sound you make is the sweetest fucking thing that Frankie's ever heard. It's needy and desperate. It echoes in his head and he never wants it to stop. Wants to record it so he can replay it a thousand times over.

"You did so well," Santiago says, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. He stills, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.

"You won the game tonight. Fair and square. I'm just here to give you your hard-earned prize."

Even though Frankie can't see it, he can feel it. The rigid heat of Santiago's cock nudging at your ass, inches from Frankie's cock.

"This good cariño? You want me inside you too hmm? Tell me how you want it," Santiago demands.

But there's no way you can answer the man coherently.

You're an absolute trembling, shaking mess. Can barely form a word and much less a sentence. You just keep nodding, as you keep moving up and down on Frankie's cock with a stuttering "ye-yes."

And that's not enough for the bastard

"Yes what, sweetheart?" Santiago teases.

You sob, knowing fully well you won't be able to give Santiago what he wants in this state.

But he doesn't ease up. "Try again," he says.

"Both," you try, struggling. The word panting and out of breath. "I want-- f-fuck!" It's such a high pitched sound, you practically sound like a damned squeaky to. "Please, please," you cry, tears brimming in your eyes.

That smug bastard likes that, smiling and humming as he rubs the side of his jaw along the back of your neck, scraping his prickly five o' clock shadow against your soft skin until goose bumps form in its wake.

"Ple--please, San--I want--"

"Greedy girl," Santiago rasps out. He moves back for a brief moment, and you squeak in alarm that he's gonna leave. Instead he thrusts forward and fuck, fuckFUCK!

Shit. Frankie can't breathe.

There are bright sparks in his vision. Blood rushes to his head and for a moment Frankie isn't sure if he's going blind or having a seizure.

It's electrifying, a sweet burn that zips through Frankie's spine.

The blood thrashes and swirls inside his ears. It makes every noise around him distorted, like he's under water and drowning in you.

In the far off distance, he thinks he can hear Santiago groan brokenly against your skin. Whatever bravado was there before is all but gone in his voice now.

You're so fucking tight. He can feel Santiago through you. Can feel the way your perfect cunt is clutching onto every inch of his cock... and Santiago's not even all the way inside yet.

He doesn't know if you can fit more. Everything feels tight and overwrought and so so so much. His brain is so overloaded on sensation, it takes him a second to register that both him and Santiago have stopped moving.

None of you are speaking, and Santiago isn't teasing anymore, seemingly at loss of words now.

Santiago hisses out a breath between gritted teeth. His fingers gripping into your hips until it dents the soft flesh as the man tries to hold on by his literal fingernails.

"Fuck sweetheart, you're so tight. Relax for me okay?"

And you're trying to. Frankie can tell that much. You really are. It's not like you're doing this on purpose. It's real fucking easy for Santiago to ask you to relax when Santiago's never had to try to fit two cocks inside his body.

On top of that, while Frankie's never liked to brag, he's self-aware enough to know his own size and how he's a lot to take.

Frankie's hand comes to the small of your back, stroking it to provide you with comfort in the best way he can manage in the circumstances.

"It's ok baby, it's okay. We got you," Frankie murmurs against your skin.

Behind you, Santiago's eyes are squeezed tightly shut. An expression of bliss and torture all blended together. "I'll go slow," he chokes out. "I always do don't I? Let me open you up and make you feel good,"

His voice has gone sweet and indulgent. There's nothing mocking about it now. Just pure unadulterated fondness.

Whatever game he was playing before has ended now. Frankie knows that all Santiago wants in this moment is for you to feel good.

But you're too out of it to notice Santiago's defeat and your own outright victory.

You crane your head back towards Santiago with an indignant glare, no doubt to start off what will be a round of bickering between you and the man.

And that's the last thing Frankie wants in this moment, for either of you.

And maybe Frankie's an opportunist too. Maybe he's just as bad as Santiago. Because he quickly cups your cheek, guiding you back towards his lips to cut off any words you might have for Santiago.

His other hand, moves down to the front of your stomach, sliding his palm down along the inside of your thighs until his fingers can draw along the wetness of your folds, pressing light circles against your clit.

You try to escape it, oversensitive and overstimulated. You try to press back only to be met by Santiago's firm chest caging you in, pushing you forward and back into Frankie hand.

You shake and spasm in between them. Tears brimming in the wet sheen of your eyes.

Frankie's barely done anything to you and, god you're already close somehow.

He can feel it. The rise in the pace of your breathing, the thrum of your heart beating against your chest like your very heart is trying to escape from your ribcage as your impending climax builds and builds and builds from within you.

You come with a defeated whimper into his mouth. To Santiago's rasped groan in your ear and Frankie's low moan into your mouth. Your orgasm cascades over you as you shiver in his arms and squeeze tightly around them both.

Everything is a pleasant buzz thrumming in his veins as he can sense how all of you are unwinding. Your body melting in his arms, pressed between him and Santiago as you are.

They let you recover. Let you calm down. The only movement between them, is Santiago lips dragging against your hairline fondly as if to console you.

"That good baby? Think you ready for us now?" Frankie asks.

You're still swimming in the afterwaves of your pleasure, but you nod drowsily in reply.

Santiago continues to press open mouth kisses against your cheek and jaw, before he moves back to give you space.

You whine, a little bit panicked at the sudden movement. Your hand clings onto Santiago's wrist and the man immediately stills for you.

"Stay," you plead.

"Not going anywhere sweetheart," Santiago says, there's no hint of teasing this time. No lingering bluster of pride or a need to one up you.

"I'm staying right here."

It's soft and loving.

The very same tone in his voice he held when he was gazing out at the rain on the balcony.

Frankie had a hard time placing it when he heard it the first time, but he recognizes it for what it is now.

Contentment... It's a tone so foreign on Santiago but it suits him so well. If he can, then for the rest of his life Frankie wants to make sure the man gets to keep it.

Raising one hand to the back of Santiago's neck, Frankie cups his hand over the old-worn surgery scar as he reels the man closer and seals his mouth over Santiago's.

His lips are soft and pliant against Frankie's own. Then his mouth parts with a sweet little hum that sounds all too similar to the gorgeous whines you've been making all evening.

Outside the rain doesn't stop. It rains for the whole of that week.

But Santiago was right. There are worse things in the world than being cooped up in a room with the two people you love the most.

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Author's note: We're baaaaaaaack! I know it's been a hot minute since we got some proper porn with these three! It's also the first time in months I've written proper porn so I may be rusty. Thank you for your patience everyone while I was off lusting for tall spidermen.

[princesssszzzz]

Team Black has interesting characters, but I need them to have more conflict with one another to see them truly shine.

https://www.reddit.com/r/HouseOfTheDragon/s/nPLxtAKy0u

Thoughts on this post?

Hmmm I don’t fully agree. HOTD is a drama, but not a telemundo soap opera. They don’t need to argue with other characters in every scene to be interesting. They don’t need to create any problems, the problems are already there and just need to be fleshed out.

One of the issues with how people are reacting to these characters is trying to force their favorites to be villainous or nuanced like the Lannisters when no one in HOTD will ever come close to that. It’s forced “my fav is so bad and different”, especially when the characters have no agency and the few who do like Larys or Mysaria get ignored basically. My criticism for the show is not that I want all the characters to hate each other or it’s boring. I just want the characters to have natural reactions to what’s going on around them, and some of those reactions are negative. It doesn’t have to be plot altering or extreme. Like with Rhaena, I don’t expect her to HATE Daemon and start plotting his death. I just want them to talk about his behavior and have the show portray the effects it’s had on her. That’s actually very minor in the grand scheme of the story. People should also separate political vs personal happenings in the show because for some reason that keeps getting mixed. I like the realism of GOT, and it’s not realistic to have everyone on the same side in constant turmoil with each other. I genuinely get bored with main characters, so that’s just me. I get burnt out seeing the same character promoted over and over again. It’s like when they keep playing the same song on the radio it’s just annoying.

So I’m personally bored with most of the characters like Alicent, Rhaenyra, and majority of the them I won’t ever be interested in them and that’s how I was with GOT also. I don’t support either team, and people on both sides will claim the show is giving favoritism when really it’s…….both?? but only certain characters are being white washed so idk why people pick and choose when to have an issue with that. Rhaenyra has clearly been white washed but that’s not the only character. Like Aemond is a total horrible person in the book and now is allowed the grace to be the victim of teasing by Jace as a child that’s still brought up when he’s basically an adult now. He’s not controlling Vhagar, so not killing his nephew on purpose and people even vilify Baela and Rhaena claiming they started the war over wanting to claim Vhagar. Like if he’s a villain than he can’t be the victim at the same time. Characters like Rhaena are not given grace for their young age or how things in Westeros could be out of their control, so again people like to pick and choose and I don’t think the writers giving people conflict will stop a fandom from behaving like that.

Daemon is one of the morally worst characters right now (even if people ignore that) and will be that way when the show ends, and he’s actually portrayed as crazy. He himself I don’t think was white washed or portrayed as a good person, I just want the other characters to react to what he’s doing instead of just moving on to the next plot point. With Jace I’m interested in his character regardless if he’s portrayed as good or bad, but I just want him to have reactions to what’s going on in addition to his normal Dance plot if that’s makes sense. How he’s coping with being a bastard.

I kinda just gave up on Rhaenys and Corlys because I know they are just keeping Rhaenys around until she dies early in the war and Corlys will not always support team black. Season 1 Corlys is ridiculous and I think he’s been shown as ridiculous especially with trying to marry off Laena and they did have a scene with Rhaenys blatantly saying those aren’t their grandkids. But more is going to happen as the seasons go on. This is why I’m always comparing some of the the HOTD characters to their actual GOT counterparts and parallels. Rhaena and Baela especially they are surviving the war but they won’t have 8 seasons to flesh them out and then bring them back together so they can’t really have huge beef with people established to begin with bc it won’t be settled on screen. And people are not allowing time for the characters to actually be developed before trying to create some finalized view of them. They weren’t even in a full season. Idk why characters 16 and younger are adultified by the fandom when the grown ups are being treated like children. That’s so bizarre. Also for some reason a large section of the fandom only views the show and characters through a shipping lense and refuse to perceive the characters outside of that.

The characters I’m most interested in seeing interact is some what somewhat Daemon, Baela, Rhaena, and Jace & Aegon, Criston, and Otto and most of these characters will not have conflict. Criston and Aegon are about to be on the same page basically for the rest of the show. I don’t think Daemon and Baela will ever have serious beef on screen. And that goes way beyond the Dance because like I said in a post last year there’s more going on with them being girls in a patriarchal universe than people just yelling at the screen for them to do their own thing. We already know Jace doesn’t really like Daemon like that and the Daemon/Rhaena thing I’ve explained a couple times. Jace/ Baela interactions, it depends on how they portray Jace…….

[theliterarywolf]

Lit, you're doing Eldritch-God's work. I've been watching some videos from teachers, and why they left their profession over the past 4 years, esp during-after covid, and they had the exact same complaints as you. No respect from students, or the faculty, uphill battle with tests, and programs, no support from the faculty and parents. Students are allowed to do whatever they want basically, even lie, cheat, etc, and regardless of the situation, the teacher is blamed, in a lose lose situation.

And it's like... Obviously, teachers aren't complete innocent angels; sometimes, we fuck up. Especially in regard to entry-level teachers.

However, when school administrations want to act like, 'oh, if you fucked up once as well as you not falling into line with the whole 'deal with problem students yourselves thing, then you're not a good fit' that's already one negative line.

Then lack of support, especially when the same administration will go on Telemundo and proudly proclaim, 'We offer our teachers numerous resources of support here at our school'

Then just the kinds of kids I was teaching which... Look. I understand that most of the negative behaviors and shit-attitude cases I have in my classrooms are 85% due to the parents. However... When you have kids who just, out-and-out on their own, decide to go above and beyond in being assholes... There's only so much a teacher can do.

And I know some people will say 'oh, well that's just American education right now' But, really? No. The school I did my Student-Teaching (which is one of the steps you have to do before you get your teaching-credential) was also a lower-income school. But the bad cases there were heaven-sent compared to what I deal with at my current site.

Case in point: Most schools are supposed to have a Zero-Tolerance Policy when it comes to students being caught with/using drugs on campus.

Where I was Student-Teaching: One of the kids I was working with one-on-one got caught for possession and he was suspended for two weeks. It was actually kind of worrying since he was one of the students I wanted to use for my edTPA portfolio. But when he was finally allowed to come back to school, he came to me and was so apologetic and understanding of what he did wrong ('Ms. Lit, I'm so sorry for being gone so long. Are you still willing to help me in class? I can even come in during lunch if that works for you...')

Working at my Job-Site: Student comes to class reeking of marijuana. Contact campus security. They take forever and a day getting to my classroom. They take the student out of class, pat down their pockets, shake up their backpack a little, and then send them back to class as if nothing happened. Like, I can count on two fingers the number of students in my class who have actually gotten punishments for drug-use/drug-possession and what the school actually punished them for wasn't even the drugs. It was one constantly ditching class and the other getting into fights.

Funny note with the second one: they were actually supposed to be expelled, but the school said 'beep-boop, we can't read all of a sudden' and just plopped them back into my class rather than finalizing the paperwork.

[marcelinesghost13]

It's that time again for another blog. I'm well aware that certain individuals do read my blog and I appreciate you people for reading it. I like to call it my little Telemundo life.

So events that have been occurring lately. Let's talk about my wife first. So her condition isn't getting any better in any way whatsoever as a matter of fact it's been getting worse. Her EDS is definitely affecting her mentally and physically. Honestly I have been seeing those changes go on for the last couple months now. Then on top of that about a month ago she put smoking pot which is definitely affected her mentally. When she's smoking the pot it helps control her mentally and physically and allows the pain not to be there on a constant basis. Because she's quit smoking pot she has been having a lot more anxiety attacks. Yeah when she's on the pot it also causes more paranoia. Also just been having a lot of anxiety lately but I think some of that anxiety is also because of her ptsc that she's been diagnosed with. She's been having a lot of temper flare-ups shall we say. Her anger level is just absolutely through the roof and above normal. He's generally a grumpy person. But everything has been setting her off. And the one thing that's been triggering her anger so much is been the crackheads that live next to our house. She constantly asked the question why would you put people like that in an apartment. Especially when those individuals don't pay rent or have a job. Yes it's a valid question but it does have a simple answer. That has to do with the landlord having sympathy for people like that then providing a home for them. I don't necessarily agree with putting people that are addicted to drugs and alcohol in our associated with gangs into a quiet neighborhood or Street but the landlord of that property has done that. I have talked about them numerous times so I won't go on a rant about it. But it is definitely affecting my wife a lot more mentally. And then there's the pain that she's been feeling throughout her entire body and it causes her anger to be a lot more prevalent. Unfortunately because of this I have had to endure a lot of that anger directed towards me. Which that anger turns into gaslighting and her being completely illogical and unreasonable about simple little things. I have different ways and tactics in order to help calm her down but unfortunately sometimes they don't necessarily always work. It is very mentally exhausting upon me I have to endure her behavior at this time being the way it is but I did agree when I got married poor sickness and health. I plan on living up to that promise when I got married. Yes it can be hard and it's very difficult at times but I know together we can get through it. And that is currently what's going on with that part of my Telemundo.

So the next part of my life which is completely unexpected and not something I normally talk about is my family. They are completely and totally toxic as hell and that's mainly why I don't really talk about them and my blog. I do talk about my father and how I'm taking care of him and they've made that very well known. So I will talk about him first and then I will move on to the other members of my wonderfully toxic family.

My dad is progressively getting worse with his dementia and like I've said before my wife does not believe his dementia but that is here nor there at this point in time because she's not dealing with him the way I have to deal with him. I have been having to go to the grocery store lately in order for him to have food in the house. And he has definitely been fighting with his at home nurses that visit him at least once a day. He had two really good nurses that were helping him but unfortunately they found other employment or some other events occurred. So working with agency that assigned the nurses to come out to visit him I have had to let them know exactly what kind of nurse they need to send. My dad is almost in his 80s so he's very stubborn about his ideas of the rules of a nurse and a woman. So he needs a nurse that will be very strict and firm with him and keep him on a straight line. For a while they were sending a couple male nurses which my father was having nothing of that and some female nurses that just basically didn't have a backbone. He would scare off all of them but that problem has been solved and I have worked with the agency and we are getting nurses that are a little bit more strong-willed so we say in our unwilling to put up with my dad's bullshit on top of that they are making sure that he is taking his medication because my dad being my dad he hates taking his meds. So everything is slowly falling into place. It's the only other thing that I'm having a problem with is getting him to go to the actual doctor in order to see them for his appointments. But I'm sure at some point I will eventually figure it out and I will be getting him to the doctor the way he needs to be at the doctor I know for they can give him the appropriate medical care that he needs.

Moving on to my little brother he's been trying to stick his nose in my business for my dad. I believe my little brother is trying to take over his health care in order to get a free ticket and make some money taking care of my dad. And that's simply just because my little brother loves money and if he can get free money he's more than willing to do what he needs to do in order to get that money. I'm not really caring for it too much and I have power of attorney for my father and he's not going to change that in any way whatsoever I've also notified the staff at the VA and other individuals about that I'm the one that is primarily taking care of my dad. So this delusion that my brother has of actually coming down here and taking care of my dad is just not going to happen he needs to get that thought out of his head. At some point reality will slap them in the face and he'll stop the bullshit that he's doing.

The other person that has been getting in the middle of my business is my horribly toxic mother. She enjoys money and just as much as my little brother and does whatever she can in order to make some kind of profit even if it means stepping on the bones and the bodies of people that she loves. I have been talking to her a little bit more here and there which I don't really care to do that I avoided as much as possible. I think I mentioned it in a blog at some point that for my birthday the fucking bitch sent me divorce papers because I was having a fight with my wife and I was currently living with my dad for a short time. I do believe she has something to do with my little brother and his little mission but she's unwilling a minute but she's given little hints that she has some involvement because of the question she asked about my dad. She also has a couple questions about what's going on with the health of my wife but I don't really tell her too much because honestly it's none of her fucking business. At some point I believe it's the end of August she'll be moving to Spain for about 6 months which is actually really fucking nice. I don't honestly think she'll be staying there that long because she has to be in the middle of everybody's business but as long as she's gone for a short period of time and I don't have to deal with her makes my life so much easier.

Okay on to me... I got a whole lot of Telemundo going on there. So I am still pursuing my transition into becoming a woman. I've been taking some vitamins and stuff like that in order to help the transition move along. One of the medications that I've been taking are for hair. More specifically to make it thicker and stronger it also helps with my nails and my skin. And I have definitely been noticing my hair is getting a lot thicker and in the lot more stronger the same goes with the nails I've been growing a lot more faster and a little bit more stronger which I absolutely oh my God love. The only thing I don't like is the fact that my facial hair has been coming out a lot more quicker and I've been happy to shave more often. Are you still only have to shave every week and a half before I had like 5:00 shadow and now I've been having to shave like almost every other day which totally sucks. I hate shaving my face so much it burns so bad and stings so horrible it's like pouring iodine onto an open wound. I've been also taking prescription vitamins for women in order to help with different things that go on in my body and I've noticed a couple different other things. It's not exactly HRT but I have been noticing my sides and my hips are definitely getting a little bit more wider and there's more fat around them so I'm going to definitely have to get on some kind of exercise program to help get rid of that body fat I absolutely hate it. Grandad I am built like an Amazon but I absolutely hate that fat on my side. I'm going to call it a muffin top and oh my God do I hate it. But I have also been noticing I'm losing weight a lot more quicker. I think that's just simply because the fat and my body is redistributing itself into different parts of my body than it never really collected before. my wife is slowly is getting used to me becoming a little bit more feminine she's also been noticing that my voice is changing a little bit more it's a lot more softer which stars are nuts because she can't hear very well. But I've also been working on my female voice a lot more that way I sound more like a a woman. And some of my female friends are actually liking the sound of my new voice that's slowly getting better and better. And honestly I don't really mind it too much and it definitely has like a girly sound to it which I like. Because I really don't like my male voice it is soft also but not as soft as my family voice. I did do an experiment at work where I used my female voice in order to announce that the casino was closing that I work at and one of my sergeants actually said that I was a lot more clear using that voice. Hearing that kind of positively made me feel so happy almost elated. I know this process is going to take a long time maybe three or five years but I eventually will get there I hope. I've also noticed that the medications that my doctors gave me and I'm aware that some of them are vitaminants for the most part but my emotional status not just because of the stress that's going in my life oh my God the stress. I'm in a little bit more emotional than I normally am which is okay but I'm also not quite used to it yet. Just talking about this gets me all teary-eyed. So that's what's going on with my transition.

As far as my work goes oh my fucking god. I cannot stand most of the guys that I work with. This macho dick dick attitude that they have drives me up the fucking wall. Hopefully I won't have to put up with it for much longer because I put a transfer in to be the supervisor for The coffee shop and delis. For my understanding that is a complete shit show and everybody is fighting with each other like a bunch of little high schoolers. Plus the previous manager completely and totally wrecked the budget and the product that needs to be bought for the kitchen. And just to make things worse the cooks have been finding a lot lately with the cashiers. And then there's the guy who's in charge of all of the food departments that guy is a complete douchebag and from my understanding is that he is looking to hire someone that will be a sacrificial lamb in order for him to save his job. Which is perfectly fine to me because I had to deal with that before when I was at working in a different apartment. If you want to go back and look at some ugly blogs you will find out what department I used to work at. Hopefully I will get the job because it will make things a lot easier for my wife and for me. I have dealt with this kind of problem before and I will fix it like I fixed it last time. I'm too honoring too stubborn and too much of a pain in the ass to allow someone to bully me. And it will use my intelligence in order to get through what I need to get through in order to fix that department. I do have some people that are rooting against me and trying to convince me that I'm not going to be able to do the job or I just need to walk away because of all the problem s and I don't plan on doing that. I will make this work. The owners of why I we'll make this work is because I thrive in chaos. So whatever issues you're going to throw at me I'm going to handle it like the strong woman that I am and everyone is just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. And they're going to have to realize that they're not dealing with a stubborn man they're dealing with a determined trans woman. So that is all of my Telemundo and My crazy Life thank you so much for reading it if you got into this part.

Before I go there's one more thought I need to get out of my head or it's going to fish around bring my brain and it's going to drive me nuts. I've noticed something over at my work how affectionate everybody is with one another they're always hugging each other and being emotionally supportive of one another there's like this connection that they all have with one another and I don't have that with anyone at my work I don't have that with anyone at home I'm very much alone and I've noticed that loneliness has definitely gotten worse ever since I came out as trans. I've never well almost never had anyone that actually like just hugged me to hug me I never had anyone ask me if I'm okay just to check up on me granted my wife does it every once in awhile when she's out of her head and that's the person I fell in love with but that person is slowly feeding away because of her illness it's slowly driving her mad in a little crazy so here I stand on top of a hill all by myself nobody to sit there with me to watch the moon rise and let me know everything will be okay I don't have anyone when I come to work that's like happy to see me and goes out of their way to talk to me it's just absolutely the most loneliest feeling in the world. The other thing that bugs the shit out of me is when guys call me bro or they call me dude well dude doesn't bug me too much but brother or man any reference of that male identification of what stands in front of them being me is a guy and he gives me a sick feeling in my stomach every single time I hear it I don't like it I put up with it because I have to simply because I'm stuck looking like a guy granted my face is somewhat girl looking in there are some people that do confuse me for being a girl and most people would be offended by that and I get so happy when that happens I don't even correct them at this point anymore I used to but I don't do it anymore this process of becoming a woman is difficult somedays and I wish there was some witch or wizard or even a God that could just walk up to me and do their magic and turn me into the girl that lives inside of my head and there's days I can hear her so angry that she's not out why did I wait so fucking long why did I keep her trapped inside my head for such a long time and I look at her when I'm looking in the mirror and I don't have an answer for her except for I'm sorry I should have let her out a long time ago I shall let her out when I was in my 20s maybe it wouldn't be having these feelings of loneliness maybe my life would have been a lot more happier I know it would have been harder being a girl but fuck it's been hard being a guy that gets accused of being such a girl I've always been called a pansy and a wuss sometimes even a pussy because my thought process is very girl like the pain in my heart hurts all the time and I hear her in my head almost every day of every minute ever since I came out as trans there's days she just screams I want her to shut the fuck up but she doesn't and that's because she's angry with me I'm angry with me God I wish there was someone I could give me a hug right now there's nothing in the world right now I wouldn't give for someone's arm around my shoulder and my head leaning on there shoulder with them telling me that everything will be okay and it'll be all right but that's not going to happen I'm going to go home to an angry woman because she was cursed to be sick

062120240624

[fresafresitawrites]

paloma’s cards and water

my latest creative writing assignment! adding onto the next series of my vignettes! involving my oc andrew as the main boi. u can find them all here  this one is a lil long but my prof really liked it so im happy w it. rest is under the read more! id be so happy if anyone reads this slkajf inspired by tarot reading, my grandma, and that one chapter in the house on mango street w the tarot reader 

I was on the first floor of my building getting the mail when I heard my downstairs neighbor sweeping her entrance mat.

“Buenos días, m’hijito.” Her voice was like the strum of a guitar.

“Buenas, Señora Paloma.” I replied. I gave her a quick glance as I skimmed a letter about my academic probation from last semester.

She set the broom aside and looked up at me.

“Ah, so formal now that you’re older, and taller too. You’re always getting taller and taller.” I’m only five foot six, five foot eight when anyone asks. “I haven’t seen you too much lately.”

“Oh, disculpe.” I crammed the envelopes into my messenger bag. Most of them were junk anyway, like dollar store advertisements or auto companies offering me a car loan. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind, a lot going on with school and work and everything.” I closed the mailbox unit.

“Ay, perdón, Señor Ibarra,” she teased. Somewhere after I turned eighteen, I went from calling her Mama Lola to using formalities. “Do you have some time, actually? I need help with something, si puedes.”

I checked my phone. I had work in an hour. “Sí sí sí, yeah, whatdya need?” I cracked my knuckles. Usually, she just wanted me to move furniture or get something from the top shelf of her kitchen cabinets, like the blender she used during the summer to make watermelon juice. Her oldest son also bought her an iPad for Christmas three years ago when he visited from Buffalo, and I’ve memorized the passcode after troubleshooting it for her so many times.

Paloma waved me inside her one-bedroom apartment, two floors directly underneath my family’s. We lived in an old house with four floors that probably used to belong to one rich family in the nineteenth century but was now broken up into several apartments. Paloma’s door was the first one on the ground floor across from the staircase. Her apartment always smelled like dryer sheets, and the television was always on some Spanish talk show, and water was always boiling over the kitchen stove because she didn’t trust the pipes. The yellow walls were adorned with Mexican folk paintings, plastic floral garlands, and family photos attached with Scotch tape. In every corner there were figurines of Catholic saints.

A few years ago, I asked Paloma to watch Sofi and Eli for me. I had tickets to see The Strokes at Madison Square Garden and only that morning did I double check the date of the concert. My mom was at a student’s piano recital, and I agreed a week earlier to watch the girls that night.

I was carrying Eli in one arm and held Sofi’s hand with the other outside Paloma’s door. The girls were four at the time, so I just gave them each twenty bucks to never say anything.

“Hmm!” Paloma lifted her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “And you think your momma won’t find out?”

I thought about it. “Well, don’t tell her.”

Paloma laughed, squinting her dark eyes like a fox.

Thankfully, Ma’s train got delayed on the way home that night.

In Paloma’s kitchen, two Devil’s Ivy plants sat in the sink with their vines trailing over the edge, hesitating to touch the tile floor. On the left was the glass door to her own small patio, where a few stray cats lay across the concrete. Paloma pointed to her wooden breakfast table, leaving her broom aside, so I pulled out a chair.

She sat down across from me, laying a purple and gold silk cloth between us and placed two tea lights on each side.

“Oh, is this what you wanted me for?” I sat up, surprised. She tied her long, gray-brown hair into a bun.

Paloma has never tried to use her cards on me before. I was never interested in these things. Hemera was the one who came to visit often after her break-up during freshman year with this film studies major, Vladimir, who played the accordion and was originally from Portland. Hemera and Paloma would lean over the tarot cards, speaking low, like candleflames. I usually sat on the couch and watched Looney Tunes, since Boomerang was one of the only channels on Paloma’s television other than the news or Telemundo.

“How’s your friend?” Paloma asked as if she read my mind. “Is she your girlfriend yet? Or has she found someone?” She pulled out the deck of cards from her apron pocket and shuffled them.

            “Oh, no, she’s okay. She’s doing okay.” Hemera told me two weeks ago she was “focusing on herself” which meant she deleted Tinder and would reactivate it within the next week. “And nah, she’s like a sister to me. That’d be weird.”

            Paloma watched me. “You cold?”

            “What? No…” Well, now that she mentioned it… ‘Actually, yeah, kind of, maybe.” I zipped up my wool sweater. Was there a breeze?

            “Good.” She spread the cards out with her delicate hands. “That means the spirits are here.”

            “Uh, okay. Sure, Paloma. They are.” I tried not to sound too sarcastic.

            I closed my eyes and hovered my left hand over the fanned-out cards, mimicking how Hemera used to do it. I tapped three random cards and Paloma flipped them over.

            She read them out loud. “El ermitaño, la rueda de la fortuna, y la muetre.”

            The late February sun casted a soft glow over the kitchen like a dream.

            “Your past, present, and future cards.” Paloma’s tone shifted into something softer, as if her words descended from the clouds. “Ah, look at you. Always keeping to yourself, always, always. Like the old man here on the card… alone on the mountain, holding a lantern trying to illuminate his path.”

            I tilted my head.

            “Right now, you’re in a critical position. It’s a marvelous position to be in! See all the arrows on the wheel going in all directions? They can lead you anywhere. You just steer the wheel like the helm of a sailboat and go wherever the wind takes you. How exciting!”

             I leaned forward. I examined the card that depicted what looked like a large, gold coin covered in strange symbols and surrounded by hybrid animals and angel figures.

            “And here, look, don’t be afraid of this last one. Everyone’s always afraid of this card, but don’t take it too literal. This card means transformation, it means upheaval, it means purging, it means endings.

            I picked up the card, fixated on the small boy kneeling before the skeleton-knight riding a white horse. I put the card back down.

            “This sounds… vague.” I leaned back in my chair, half skeptical and half on edge from her reading, but I didn’t want her to know the last part. “I thought you’d tell me something terrible would happen, or something like who I’m going to marry or whatever. Not that I would believe it, but I’m just wondering why you wanted me here right now.”

            Paloma smiled and crossed her arms. She’d been expecting this reaction. “It’s not like that. It’s not a math test, like in school. There are no right or wrong answers here. I know you don’t like that. Frustrating, no?”

            “Yeah, a little.”

            “Half of the work is you. It’s like looking at art or reading poetry. You’re participating. You’re drawing your own conclusions.” She placed the deck back into her pocket. “You have to marinate on the words, m’hijo. Everything will reveal itself.”

            I took a deep breath, swung my bag over my shoulder, and checked my phone.

            I had work in five minutes.    

[kuramirocket]

Sonia Gutierrez dreamed of returning to her hometown of Denver as a television reporter for the city's defining news station: KUSA 9News. When she finally achieved it, however, it came at too steep a cost, she says.

Gutierrez says she was told that she could report on immigration, an issue about which she cares deeply, but only if she were to state her own immigration status on air in every story on the subject.

"I was put in a box simply for who I am," Gutierrez says.

She had never tried to hide that her parents had brought her as a baby from Mexico without documentation. But Gutierrez, 30, says she balked at the station's directive. She was told she could continue pitching stories about immigration, but, she says, she was asked to pass off her ideas and sources to other reporters.

Gutierrez is no longer with KUSA. Nor are two other Latina reporters. One had pushed editors to involve Black and Latino colleagues in more decisions about news coverage. The other's contract was not renewed five months after she had returned after having a stroke. She, too, had challenged station leaders on how they cover issues affecting Latinos in Colorado.

Over the course of a year, from March 2020 to March 2021, KUSA allowed each of the women's contracts to lapse without renewal, the way television stations typically part with their journalists.

"It is racist to require a Latino reporter, a Hispanic reporter, to disclose their own immigration status [to viewers] before reporting on immigration," says Julio-César Chávez, the vice president of National Association of Hispanic Journalists.

The outcry has focused an unwanted glare on Tegna, one of the nation's largest and most prominent owners of local television stations, just as the company faces claims of racial bias from a dissident investor.

"9News is the market leader in Denver and has been for decades," KUSA news director Megan Jurgemeyer says, "Having worked at another station in town, it was always viewed as the top competition and who we wanted to beat."

9News is unusually woven into the fabric of its parent company. Tegna's CEO Dave Lougee used to be the station's news director. KUSA's general manager, Mark Cornetta, is also the executive vice president of Tegna Media, the company's local television division. And Patti Dennis, a Tegna vice president and director of recruitment, is herself a former KUSA news director who still works out of the station's main building in Denver. All three are white, as are Jurgemeyer and Ryan.

Parent company faces its own issues with race

Tegna faces its own allegations of racial bias. An activist hedge fund, Standard General LP, recently nominated rival directors, saying it wanted to diversify the company's largely white board. 

In an April federal securities filing, Standard General accused Tegna of racist practices stretching back years.

In 2019, a sports anchor at the company's Phoenix station accused its general manager — recently promoted from a job as KUSA's sales manager — of making "loud and unwelcome racist and sexist comments about coworkers" at a baseball game, in a civil complaint reviewed by NPR

Jamie Torres, a Denver city council member, was among the Latina state and local public officials who met twice with KUSA executives following the dismissal of the three journalists. She says the meetings left her unconvinced that there would be real progress beyond some changes in language and style.

"The conversation felt just incredibly transactional," Torres says.

And it renewed long-held frustrations: Torres says the three Latina journalists had been hired after an earlier round of discussions between the station and Denver-area Latino officials about representation at KUSA.

"Why Don't You Pitch It To Telemundo?"

While in college, Gutierrez interned at the local affiliate of the Spanish-language network Telemundo. Back then, it was housed inside KUSA's headquarters. Though owned by Tegna, KUSA is an affiliate of NBC, and Telemundo is part of NBC's parent company, Comcast.

As Gutierrez rose at Telemundo Denver, she also pitched stories to KUSA.

She says she often heard back: "That's a great story idea, why don't you pitch it to Telemundo?" Her response: KUSA also needed to serve Latino families — the ones who speak English.

"After a while, when stories wouldn't get picked up, I would just take it upon myself to do the interviews, write up a little [script] and give it to the anchors and say, 'It's done.' To the producers, 'It's done. You want it or not?' " Gutierrez says it was easier to hand off the idea fully baked.

After a stint at a station in Columbia, S.C., Gutierrez returned to KUSA as a reporter. She says KUSA leaders told her that she could be a defining person for the station, someone who would thrive there. By her telling, Gutierrez ignored the little slights that accreted.

Then, Gutierrez says, she was told she had to disclose that she had been a DREAMer, protected from deportation through the Obama-era policy called Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, or DACA, before she became a legal permanent resident through marriage. She didn't see why viewers needed to be told that in each of her immigration reports.

Gutierrez says she received no response when she asked for concrete examples of how her status had compromised her reporting. And when she refused to go along, Gutierrez says, she was told she would have to pass her story ideas and sources on immigration to other reporters.

"It's not like there was something wrong with me or my reporting," says Gutierrez, who left last year. "There was just something wrong with who I was �� a liability to them."

Allegations of unfulfilled promises

Aguirre, 34, a Mexican-American who grew up near Midway Airport on the South Side of Chicago, says she had been inspired to become a journalist to tell stories about Latinos that were not simply about crime and immigration.

She came to Denver after being an anchor at a smaller station in Flint, Mich. 

Aguirre says she believed her pursuit of community-driven news brought value.

"I can tell a story in a much different way than a female white reporter can because I lived it. I know the questions to ask," Aguirre says.

In April 2019, Aguirre suffered a stroke that resulted in a traumatic brain injury and paralyzed her on her left side; as she built back strength and returned in the fall.

After roughly six months, as new newsroom leaders rotated in she did not return to the anchor's chair. Aguirre alleges in a formal amended complaint she filed with the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission earlier this year.

Aguirre left the station in March 2020. Her attorney, Iris Halpern, says the complaint is currently in mediation.

"Because they're KUSA, they can just get somebody else," Aguirre says. "They can get another Latino who fills that Brown category, who's cheaper, younger, greener and more afraid to ask any questions. Although I was recovering [from the stroke], I was still that woman who would push back. So I'd be in those meetings and I would ask 'Why?' "

"I was instructed not to wear my hair in a bun"

After two years as a reporter in Bakersfield, Calif., Lori Lizarraga says, she was told by 9News that she would be an asset and she joined the station. 

Lizarraga, whose mother was born in Ecuador and whose father is first generation Mexican-American, remembers saying, "'My voice will never track this [the word illegal] slew of words." She says she ended up shying away from stories involving immigration.

Lizarraga recalls even having her hairstyles vetoed. She wrote in Westword, "After six months, I was instructed not to wear my hair in a bun with a middle part anymore — a style I have seen and worn as a Mexican and Ecuadorian woman all my life. Not a good look, I was told."

"We Would Have Had Reporters On Every Corner"

Lizarraga, who left in March, says she hit an inflection point early last year. Colorado state regulators had just announced a record fine against a Canadian energy giant whose plant had been polluting nearby neighborhoods for years. She read up on it as she raced with a colleague in the official KUSA 9News van to the press conference.

"Ash was falling from the sky onto people's cars and yards and playgrounds," Lizarraga recalls. "Water was impacted."

She was struck by something else: The communities affected were heavily Latino. Yet, she says, state regulators had not consulted with those communities or even put out information in Spanish. And back in the newsroom, she says, producers focused solely on the size of the fine — potentially up to $9 million.

"I was very upset and I said, 'You know, if this were a community in a ZIP code just up the street with a different demographic, we would have had reporters on every corner ' " to interview residents, Lizarraga says. "And because this is a Spanish-speaking, low-income, largely immigrant community, we don't have an interest. We are choosing what is newsworthy based on what you care to talk about, not what is actually newsworthy."

"We have to confront management"

At KUSA, Lizarraga says supervisors resented her for demanding that African American colleagues be consulted on coverage about Floyd's murder and the protests. She thought they had a right to weigh in on questions such as: How much of the video of Floyd's death should be shown? When and if the word "riot" was appropriate? How much coverage should there be of police tactics?

Lizarraga says she rallied colleagues of color to object when the station decided to stage a town hall meeting on race and equity hosted solely by a white anchor. Instead of channeling that fervor, Lizarraga says, it was largely deflected.

"We can't be exhausted, we can't be scared," Lizarraga recalled telling colleagues. "We have to confront management and tell them that we have ideas and that we deserve a spotlight right now."

Meanwhile, she says, she was not recognized for the initiative she showed, such as the data-driven pieces that officials and advocates said (in text messages reviewed by NPR) served as a road map for government agencies seeking to arrange COVID-19 testing in heavily affected Black and Latino neighborhoods.

Life after KUSA 9News

Gutierrez now works across town at Rocky Mountain PBS. Aguirre is a local news anchor and reporter in Asheville, N.C., part of a television market that is about half the size of that of Denver.

Lizarraga returned to her family home in Dallas. In late March, she published her allegations against KUSA in Westword. "What Lori Lizarraga did took a lot of courage and bravery," the NAHJ's Chávez says, singling out Gutierrez and Aguirre for praise as well. "Journalism is an industry where a lot of people are mistreated, a lot of employees are mistreated, and discriminated against, and then people simply go quiet.

"For Lori to actually tell the world how bad the situation was, how bad she was being treated and how racist some of the management policies were, that takes real courage. She put her entire career in jeopardy."

In October, the Colorado ACLU will honor the three women for "fighting discrimination in the newsroom."

[heckyeahgenedolls]

May Gene Haul

Four dolls this month, a bit excessive I admit lol but I didn’t acquire much else. Repaints already finished.

Left to right:

Very Violet - I’d been waiting since early pandemic to get this only ponytailed Violet for under $100. I finally went up to $110 for this one because she came with the shipper and still had her hairnet. The Violet dolls are just more expensive, it is what it is. I named her Hattie.

Stolen Moments Madra - I wanted an ice blond Madra. As far as I can tell, they only made this ice blond and the strawberry blond I already have for Madra dolls. Oh, and one platinum blond Madra, but she’s a convention limited edition of like ~50. I’ll take my wins where I can get them! I named her Elvera. She’s giving Telemundo star vibes for sure. $75.

Bon Voyage Gene - I wanted one of each character with a flapper bob, what can I say? I repainted her with a deep red to give the proper flapper look. I named her Pippa. $60.

Unsung Melody Madra - Again with the bob hairstyle and deep red repaint. This one had a funny story, Madra is supposed to be portraying an opera singer who lost her voice due to ~trauma~. The drama of it all lmao! I love reading their little character storybooks. I named her Moira. $75, same seller as Stolen Moments.

(I actually just received the Violet doll with a bob hairstyle this morning so I’d have one of all three, but it’s going in my June post!)

Very pleased I got all four shippers this month! I always try to get them in the shippers but it doesn’t always work out that way. Like, I’m not gonna pay an extra $50-100 for the shipper, I’m not a money tree lol and sometimes that’s the price difference.

After I made my first Trent doll outfit, I knew I needed more shoes for him, but I never thought I’d get some so quickly! I just don’t see them up on eBay at all, so this was a major score for me. The white tennies and brown penny loafers I got for $12-15 each, I don’t exactly. I know, ouch, but I did want them. Then I won the timberland work boots, black and red boots, and burnt orange loafers all in one lot for $12.50! You just never know what things will go for sometimes lol. So all together this was a good price for 5 pairs of male doll shoes imo.

Finally these two cute patterns! I think $9/each. I needed more flapper looks for the new bobbed dolls. If I see a Trent pattern I don’t have, I buy it. Men’s fashions are easier to create with fewer templates, but variety never hurts. 

[uzumaki-rebellion]

CELIA Trailer – Celia Cruz Bio-Drama on Telemundo

I was devastated when Netflix took this off their streaming. I was only halfway done with it when it was gone!  Aymée Nuviola did a hell of a job playing her. It was so good. (At least all the episodes I was able to see!)

[lumiolivier]

The Good Old Days Chapter Twelve:  What Happened to Your Face?

A/N:  Hi, friends!  Here we are.  Another week.  After last week’s hard chapter, how about a nicer one?  Kind of.  I mean, it gets violent.  If you didn’t get that from last week’s, then you don’t understand how things work around here.

I hated myself for what I was about to do. I just watched the aftermath of what this asshole did to Veronica and now, I had to go be his best buddy?  I didn’t like it.  This prick didn’t deserve my mercy.  He didn’t deserve Veronica’s body.  He didn’t deserve to be in Vanessa’s worried thoughts.  He sure as fuck didn’t deserve my friendship.  Real or otherwise.  I hope to hell the Old Man had a plan.  Because the water in our building doesn’t get hot enough to scrub this clean.

 “Hey!” I waved him down.

 “Hey…” Cabrón blew me off, “Hey, aren’t you the guy with the prude little sister?”

 “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call her a prude,” I kept my touchy temper in check, “But I actually wanted to talk to you about that.  Look, man…No hard feelings?”

 “No hard feelings?” he scoffed, “Really?”

 “No hard feelings.” I’m under strict orders not to kill you and that’s getting more and more difficult as this conversation goes on, “You know what?  As a sign of my good faith, let me buy you a drink to bury the hatchet. I know this place.  Real hush, hush.  Real underground.  The booze is top shelf.  The girls are gorgeous.  They’re definitely better than my sister.  Best hidden gem in the city.”

 The guy held his skepticism.  Rightfully so.  I was about to bring his sorry, pathetic ass to the Narrows, “Alright!  Thanks man. ��We should get a ride.  Do you have a ride?”

 “Yeah,” I flagged down the Old Man’s driver, “That’s not a problem.”

 This guy was either that drunk, that trusting, or that fucking stupid.  Either that or he wasn’t raised right.  Mama would’ve had my ass if I would’ve gotten into some random guy’s car like that.  Still…The ride back to the Narrows was nothing but this moron rambling about how he couldn’t stand his dad, but his dad’s girlfriend was hot, so he tolerated him. Count your blessings, dude.  Yours is still alive.  You got cognitive memories of yours.  I can’t say the same.  But I wasn’t going to tell this asshole my tragic backstory.  Although, when the driver pulled up to the warehouse, I started to feel more at ease.  Because I knew what was coming to this dick.

 “Come on,” I got out of the car, “It’s this way.”

 “Really?” he took a quick look around, “Isn’t this the Narrows?  I’ve only been here to buy coke.”

 “Don’t worry about it,” I shook him off, “I did say this was a hidden gem.”

 “Ok!” This guy would chase a balloon into traffic.  I had no doubt.  When I got him to the warehouse, he kept looking around, “Hey…You said there’d be more booze and more bitches.  I don’t see either one.”

 He really is a charmer, isn’t he?  Still, I kept my cool, “Hang on a sec.  It’s a one-on-one kind of thing.  She’ll bring you a drink, give you a lap dance, the whole fucking nine.  I just need to go get her.”

 “Alright!” Just when I think I can’t hate the guy enough, he out assholes himself.  Honestly, I’m impressed, but I also wanted his head on a pike.

 Again, strict orders from the Old Man to not kill him.  I’m sure if I broke said orders, I’d be a little more than just out on my ass.  I went to the bar on the corner and knocked on the office door, “Hey, Old Man?”

 “Hi, Frankie,” the Old Man got up from his desk, “Is he here?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Unscathed?”

 “Miraculously.”

 “Good,” he threw an arm around my shoulders, “You really are a good kid, Frankie.  Pure of heart.  I like that about you.  And I know it took great restraint on your part not beating the fuck out of this piece of shit.  I’m proud of you.”

 “Thanks, Old Man.” It did my heart good when I did him proud.  I don’t know why, but it got to me.”

 “And that restraint,” he held the door for me, “should be rewarded, don’t you think?”

 “That’s up to you, boss.”

 “That’s what I like to hear,” the Old Man and I went back to the warehouse, “So, Frankie…Care to do the honors?”

 “The honors of what?” He’s not asking me what I think he is.  I couldn’t get that lucky.

 “I know you want to beat the shit out of him,” he insisted, “If someone hurt my girl’s little sister like that, I’d want to knock his dick in the fucking dirt, too.  Besides, I want to see you go all out on a mother fucker. You’re quiet, seething rage.  I want to see what happens when you cut the wrong wire on that timebomb.  Call me selfish.”

 “Really?” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit too excited about this.

 “Hold on,” the Old Man settled me, “I see you’re all full of piss and vinegar, kid, but let me have a word with him real quick.  We’ll see if we can sort this out with our words first.”

 “Seriously?” The Old Man was being way too sweet to this guy.  

 “Na,” he giggled to himself, “I just want to fuck with him before I cut the red wire instead of the blue one.”

 “Ok.” Now that sounded like the Old Man I knew and loved.  I didn’t care.  As long as I got a few swings on him, I was in.  

 “Hi there,” the Old Man walked into the main room of the warehouse.

 “If the next person in this room doesn’t have scotch and titties busting out of her shirt,” the dick groaned, “I’m leaving.”

 “No, you’re not, junior,” the Old Man made sure he stayed there.

 “Who the fuck do you think you’re calling junior?”

 “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” And the Old Man said I was quiet, seething rage. Looks like I’m not the only one. He got a little closer, studying every detail of this prick’s face, “Hold on…Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

 “I’ve never met you before, man,” Asshole twitched, “All I know is that there was this guy saying we were getting a drink and his bitch sister was being a tease.”

 “His what?” the Old Man growled, grabbing a fistful of this guy’s hair, “You want to repeat that?”

 “She…” he whimpered, “She was…a fucking…tease.”

 “So,” the Old Man let him go, “You’re the one I heard all about.  You like to fuck with little girls just trying to have a good time, huh?”

 “I would’ve shown her a good time…”

 “I’m sure you would, sport,” the Old Man rolled his eyes, “But I don’t think she’s much for chemicals. Frankie, am I right?”

 “It’s happened before,” I told him, “I don’t know if it was this guy, but it has happened before.”

 “And how is she doing? She alright?”

 “She’s in bed,” I reported, “I took care of her for the most part.  Her sister had a little hand in it, too, but we had it covered.”

 “That’s awfully nice of you,” the Old Man awed.  His demeanors gave me whiplash, “And what about her sister?  The older one.  How’s she doing?  It’s not every day you get the phone call that your youngest sister just got roofied and now, she’s rolling.”

 “She took it surprisingly well,” I never ever wanted to put Vanessa in that position ever again.  She didn’t deserve that.

 “It’s unfortunate it had to happen in the first place,” the Old Man sighed out.  But at the drop of a hat, his voice had a singsong lilt to it again, “So!  That brings me to you.  Because I’m pretty sure you were the one behind it, weren’t you?”

 “I just bought her a drink,” the cocky prick got in the Old Man’s face.  Big mistake, “You can’t prove anything.  And if I seem familiar, you know damn well I’d be able to walk out of any courtroom, smelling like a fucking rose.”

 “That’s your own business,” the Old Man turned back to me, “See, that’s the thing about being me. And about all the people I have working for me.  I know what you come from, but I don’t care.  Where you come from doesn’t have any jurisdiction over me.  Because they trust what I do.  And if that means letting my new favorite loose cannon bat you around for a while, then they know you brought it on yourself.  I mean…Unless you wanted to do something like tell me where you got the junk in the first place.”

 “You’re bluffing.”

 “Am I?” the Old Man smirked, “Because I don’t think I am.  Do you want me to get your daddy on the phone and tell him his piece of shit son tried date raping a girl tonight?”

 “You couldn’t prove it was me.”

 “You’d be amazed at how many people are in my network.” The more I hated the son of a bitch that hurt Veronica tonight, the more I started to love the Old Man.  Watching him fuck with this guy was better than Telemundo, “All it would take is one loyal dealer and I’d be able to find out within the hour. Now, either you tell me or I make a phone call.  I know you want to come off like you got the big, swinging dick here, but you don’t. Because from where I’m standing, I’d be able to mushroom stamp your ass into next week.”

 “Cliff Strickland,” he sang like a fucking canary in a coal mine.  Why am I not surprised?  I wouldn’t trust this guy with a bucket of water if we were in the ocean, “His name is Cliff Strickland.  He works…”

 “42nd Street,” the Old Man nodded, “Yeah.  I know Cliff. I know Cliff real well.  Alright, kid.  You’re free to do what you want.”

 “Thank you…” he did all but lick the Old Man’s boots

 “Get up,” the Old Man snapped, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

 “He was talking to me,” I knew better.

 “That is,” he nudged me, “If you’re still all fired up.”

 “Damn right, I am,” I nodded.

 “Here’s now this is going to go down,” the Old Man kept his voice down, “I’m going to step outside for about ten minutes.  While I’m gone, whatever happens, happens.  When I come back, I want someone to have to scrape this asshole off the floor, got it?”

 “If there’s anything left to him.”

 “Atta boy, kid,” he nudged me forward, “Go on.  Go play nice.”

 “Sorry, boss,” I shook my head, “I’m not giving him nice.”

 “There you go again,” the Old Man gave me a little swat to the shoulder, “Telling me what I want to hear. If you’re not careful, Frankie, I may end up promoting you one day.”

 “Thanks, Old Man.” It’s not that I didn’t appreciate the sentiment.  It’s just that I needed to go beat a mother fucker.  Can’t do that when I’m all warm and fuzzy inside.

 Without any further hesitation, my fist went straight into this asshole’s jaw.  And something in that first punch felt so strangely satisfying.  It’s like everything that happened tonight was laser focused in that punch and if I didn’t bust a tooth, I didn’t do it right. But that means I get to try it again, right?  Although, I was a bit caught by surprise when this fucker had some fight in him. Granted, it’s all booze muscle and if it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t have made a connection with me.  Once I blinked the spots out of my eyes, I jumped on top of the asshole and started beating the ever-living fuck out of him. The Old Man did say to play nice. And by playing nice, I thought about giving him a mercy killing, but he passed out before I could.  Whether it was from me beating him or the alcohol in his system, I don’t know.  All I knew was that my head was killing me and I had a not so pleasant conversation to have with Mama later.  

 “So?” the Old Man walked in and got an eyeful at the broken, battered, and bruised asshole bleeding on the floor, “All in all?  Good playdate?”

 “He’s done,” I caught my breath.

 “Good,” he put a hand to my shoulder, “Go home, kid.  You’ve done enough today.”

 “What?” I stopped him, “Old Man, I got two more collection spots to hit up.”

 “Don’t worry about it,” the Old Man brushed me off, “Don’t get me wrong, Frankie.  I love the enthusiasm, but you’ve done plenty for me tonight.  You can grab them tomorrow.  It’s fine.”

 “Ok…” Who was I to argue? But it got me thinking, “Hey, Old Man…You said you knew who that kid was.”

 “Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” he assured me, “You’re alright.  If this ever gets brought up to a higher place, we’re taken care of. Like I told the little shit, the only one who’s got jurisdiction here is me and anyone I deem necessary.  Which is the umbrella you fall under.  You got nothing to worry about.  Just go home.  Lay low for the rest of the night.  Come back tomorrow bright eyed and bushy tailed, ok?”

 “Ok,” I nodded, “Thanks, Old Man.”

 “Get out of here,” he shoved me off, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 Aspirin and a quick shot of tequila and I’d be alright.  Fuck that guy.  Whoever he is.  I hope the Old Man was right about my protection.  I don’t need to be getting caught up in legal troubles.  I say as I clearly work for one of the top mafia bosses in the city.  Of course, I don’t need to be getting caught up in legal troubles.  But I couldn’t shake the way he was talking to the Old Man out of my head.  He had to come from affluence somehow.  I wasn’t sure where that affluence lies, but it can’t be good.  For now, I just wanted to go home.

 It was pretty late. I’m sure Mama’s home by now, but she doesn’t need to get caught up in this mess.  The more I can keep her out of this, the better.  When I walked in, our apartment was quiet.  That’s a good sign.  That means I get to go right to bed without any questions asked.  But then, on my way to our bedroom, I heard the water in the bathroom turning off.  Shit…And I thought I was here by myself.  Because I knew Tony and César weren’t getting off for another hour, it could only be one other person.

 “Francisco…?” Mama’s voice drifted through the air.

 “Si, Mama?” I wasn’t going to ignore her.  I knew better than that.  I’d pray for the Narrows a million times over before I’d take a beating from Mama.

 “Tu bien, cariño?” she worried.

 “I’m fine, Mama,” I was lying through my teeth, but again, she doesn’t need to get caught up in this, too, “Hard night at the office.  I’m just tired.”

 “Ok,” she wasn’t going to dig deeper.  And gracias a dios for that, “Buenos noches, Francisco…”

 “Buenos noches, Mama,” I kissed her cheek and headed to bed.  She had yet to turn the light on in the hallway, so it’s not like she’d be able to see anything.  However, when I managed to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, that shit was rough. I didn’t think he got me that good. The bruising around my eye was already getting darker.  I quicky wiped the blood from my nose and crawled into bed, throwing a couple aspirin down my throat.  I’ll be alright.  As long as she doesn’t catch it.

 The next morning, I woke up to my brothers both still sleeping like babies.  So far, so good.  I didn’t have any blood on my pillowcase, so there’s another win right there. Now, all I had to do was hope to Christ that Mama’s already left for work.  However, I couldn’t get that lucky.  I heard the TV on in the living room and breakfast sizzling in the kitchen.  I knew it was coming.  Can I just get the Narrows?  Please?  It’d be so much easier.  

 Fortunately, she seemed pretty preoccupied with the stove.  She had milk boiling, so there’s no way she’s looking away from that. Alright.  I’m relatively in the clear, “Morning, Mama.”

 “Good morning, Francisco…” she chimed.  Ok. That did my soul good.  But once that milk was boiled, she noticed I was hiding my face from her.  And for a damn good reason, “Francisco…”

 “Si, Mama?” I hid behind the refrigerator door.  I was just looking for…I don’t know.  Something. Right now, an excuse to not show Mama the sins of last night.

 “Mírame,” she ordered. Fuck, I’m boned.

 I pretended like nothing happened.  And hopefully, she won’t overreact, “Que es, Mama?”

 “Qué diablos le pasó a tu cara?” Mama gasped.  Of course she wouldn’t overreact.  What was I thinking?  

 “It’s nothing, Mama,” I assured her as she reached up to my eye, “I just got into a little scrap last night.”

 “This isn’t a little scrap, Francisco!” she snapped, “This is definitely not a little scrap!  What happened?”

 “He had it coming,” I swore, taking her hand off my face, “Trust me.  He had it coming.”

 “Enough to put you like this?” Oh, yeah.  Mama’s pissed, “I don’t care how much he had it coming, Francisco.  You don’t need to be getting hurt!”

 “Mama…” I hardly spoke above a whisper, “He hurt Vanessa’s little sister Veronica.  I couldn’t let him get away with it.  He spiked her drink and I’m pretty sure he had all intentions of taking her home with him.  She’s practically a baby, Mama.  She’s only seventeen.  I just…I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

 And in that moment, Mama let it go.  I think she realized how bad last night fucked me up.  So did I.  Never did I ever think that when I saw that angel on the dance floor that night, I’d get attached to her family.  Any of them, really.  Granted, I still had yet to meet her parents and her other sister, but something tells me I didn’t need to.  I had Vanessa.  Then, a little shit decided to poke her nose into our potential love life and just like that, I had Veronica.  That’s all I needed.  And I was good with that.  

 “Ok,” Mama gave me a nod. She knew my intentions were pure, “Still…He hurt mi bebe…”

 “You should see him,” I laughed it off, “Don’t worry, Mama.  I took care of him, too.”

 “That doesn’t look very good, Francisco…”

 “I’m alright,” I promised, “It does hurt a little, but nothing I can’t tolerate.  I’ll be home later, ok?”

 “Where are you going?” she wondered.

 “Manhattan.” My shoes were here when I took them off last night…I think…Last night after I came home was kind of a blur.

 “What would you be going to Manhattan for?”

 “I’m going to go check on Veronica.” There they are!  Other side of the couch, “Make sure she’s doing ok.”

 “And?”

 I needed to score brownie points with Mama again.  Pretty sure my shenanigans from last night got me on her shit list, “And I’ll see if Vanessa’s busy tonight.”

 “I make dinner tonight?” Mama figured.

 “No,” I shook my head, “If we’re going to do that, I’m sure I can manage somewhere nice.”

 “Francisco…” Mama always was a stickler for how we spent our money.  Spending it out when we could be using it for groceries and make something ten times better would always be the right choice to her.  But fuck, man.  Sometimes, no one wants to cook.

 “It’s alright, Mama,” I promised, “I’ll be back in a little while.  And if we’re lucky, I’ll bring Vanessa by tonight, too.”

 “And the little one,” she ordered, “You’re not the only one who wants to make sure she’s ok.”

 “You don’t even know her, Mama.”

 “That doesn’t stop me from caring.”

 I love this woman.  I love her so much, “We’ll see if she’s feeling up to it.  Vanessa, too. I’m not making any promises here. They both get the final say in it.”

 “Fine,” Mama dropped it, gently kissing my cheek, “Be careful.”

 “I will.” I didn’t think I’d ever have much of a reason to go up to Manhattan.  I wish it were under better circumstances.  But she’s alright and the piece of shit was taken care of. And that’s all that matters.

[thelostandforgottenangel]

Hey Mikey!

Because we all need some cute Mikey love to start us all off right even though it starts out a bit sad and plus this song has been on replay in my head for weeks and  - it’s a cute concept so hope you all enjoy 

@bloody-dark-shells03​ @lonelyheart-clubband​ @betelgeusessonajblog​ @fyreball66​ @the-lost-black-cat1​ and all my Mikey babes

He was having a shitty day and that was dragging everyone down especially when Mikey was so cheerful all the time seeing the energetic turtle so down had her pouting when she arrived and he was just sitting in the living room silently watching a telemundo station with a drama muted lost in a distant place nobody seemed to be able to reach

He obviously wasn’t paying attention to anything going on there or around him considering he hadn’t touched the pizza his brothers had placed on the table in front of him

She moved closer her fingers trailing over his shell and neck as she leaned on the back of the couch kissing his shoulder making the turtle jump his baby blues looking dull from his mood as he tried to give her a small smirk but his attention didn’t stay on her for long nor did he seem to care she was there

Usually she didn’t even get in the front entrance before Michelangelo tackled her with affection or saw him not smiling

This wasn’t her happy Mikey

Unable to accept that she walked over plopping in his lap nuzzling up to him before realizing he wasn’t even trying to hold her and that was just unacceptable – a girl looking for attention and the turtle of her dreams unwilling to give it

She pulled out her phone sighing as she got up

He had brought this on himself pulling up a video she had made while being stupid at April’s plugging it into Donatello’s front bank of computers walking back to him as the music started pulling off her jacket so she was now standing in front of him in her short skirt and orange tube top both hugging her body tight seeing his attention suddenly snapping to her “I don’t stop until I see a real smile so-”

‘Hey Mickey’ started blaring but no lyrics came out and instead she started dancing around for him “Hey Mikey!” his mouth dropped as she started acting like a goof trying to pull him out of his funk seeing the music was drawing attention and immediately she was moving seeing him follow “Now when you take me by the ‘who’ ever gonna know every time you move I let a little more show” she kept going seeing the child like excitement in those baby blues she loved every time her body rolled giving him a small flash under her skirt when she bent over the turtle getting over the couch finding his girl instantly against him pecking his cheek, her smaller body rubbing against his “So come on and give it to me any way you can, any way you want to do it I’ll take like a man”

His brothers laughed at her seeing her making a fool out of herself but it was cute the way she made such a ridiculous song seem fun

And it was working

Mikey was grinning like a fool on the inside not even thinking on the last few days that had bummed him out, his mind far from that when he was looking at his sexy little baby girl swaying her body just for him

It took a turn as she started being seductive her moves slower taking his hands running them down her body pulling him forward getting him to dance with her seeing him smirking a little wider as she kissed him sweetly her mouth meeting his in a way that had him suddenly needy looking so in love just seeing his girl smiling up at him as he grabbed her ass loving just how damn good she looked in his color “Hey Mikey your so fine your so fine you blow my mind”

Oh he nearly lost his mind as she dropped in front of him her hands tracing his chest plate giving him that look from where she was and that bottom lip caught between her teeth

That was all it took

Michelangelo’s real smile was shining down on the woman who immediately came up as he pulled her close nuzzling her in his thanks

Oh he was smiling now grabbing her up without another word taking this to his room away from prying eyes to continue the show where he could get her in his bed to show his thanks going to give her a show all of his own in hopes of hearing her screaming his name in a better way

[suadcampbell]

PONDERISMS

ISM:

Things to ponder during COVID and because of COVID

Are dental hygienists being laid off during COVID?

How about orthodontists? Are they bracing themselves for delinquent second-house payments? Delinquent sports car payments? 

Are women scaring their close relatives away because they’re not wearing make-up? Are Revlon’s and Maybelline’s and L’Oreal’s sales lackluster? Are they in the black or in the red?

Are divorces up? “Anyone who can watch Telemundo TV for several seasons, each one over sixty episodes, is not the spouse for me! What did I ever see in you? Out, out, damn spouse!”

Domestic violence--Give me that remote, or else! 

You ate the last Drumstick? Run, if you know what’s good for you!

Child abuse? It was, until COVID, unacceptable to slap your child, now you’re slap happy, and they’re not, but what are they gonna do, jail you? Not these days, so scram brats, if you know what’s good for ya!

Is alcohol consumption up? Um, is the rabbi Jewish? The imam Islamic? (Oh, wait, muslims don’t drink alcohol--unless COVID has corrupted them!)

Is pharmacy-drug abuse up? Xanax is no longer available and won’t be for another six months. Neither will Valium.

Recreational drug use? Mexico can’t keep up with the demand.

These ponderisms weigh me down, though my weight has gone up. Hmm, I must ponder upon this--as soon as I have a piece of pie.

What ponder you? Any ponderisms you’d care to share?

Remember it’s never too late to start pondering. Ponder now!

[thenixart]

Chapter 5: Book 23--The Rescue

                 Hork-bajir centric rewrite book Animorphs book 23

Toby Hamee is a ‘seer’, literally: the one who sees far into what is and what may be. One thing she likes about the language of her people is the ability to say a lot using very little breath. Something that she reasoned was an adaption to her ancestors living in high-density groups and the necessity to communicate ideas efficiently as they needed to use the rest of the oxygen in their lungs to power their muscles to flee from the monsters from the deep. Quirks of the language that don’t translate well and actively fight with the standards of grammar in Galard and English.

This was why the humans and the yeerks looked down their beaks at her people. They took it as a sign that they were unintelligent and of less worth. Such strange things aliens placed value on as intelligent. Yet how many languages did the average human speak? The average yeerk? She knew almost as many languages as fingers she possessed: Tree of course and then Galard from her parents and tribemates. The basics of English from them as well polished to fluency from watching television. Conversational Tax and claw-sign from teacher Sssirin. Enough Spanish from Dora la exploradora and Telemundo that she was confident enough to use. Naharan dialect skikar and desbadeen balong from teacher Grath Sha. Were there humans that knew as many different languages? Maybe, but they were likely rare meanwhile pretty much every hork-bajir in the tribe knew just as many even if they skipped the redundant grammar rules.

It understandably made her very angry along with many other things.

Unfortunately, that same anger is what made the council uncertain of her ability to lead.

Which was why after the excitement of her first trial run of leadership had worn off, she was secretly listening to their meeting. Not spying, listening.

The meeting was being held in the big community lodge, a large circular platform built around the upper third of four huge pines. Support beams of living oak formed a loose cage connecting to a ring of eight trees outside of the first circle supported the weight of the platform. The whole thing was roofed and camouflaged from above by a woven mat of more living branches and vines. According to her father, Jara Hamee, this was the kind of structure that new tribes built when they settled into a valley. Over time (and with due diligence) as the trees grow, they would merge together into a proper Tribe tree with the expanded hall as the main community center. Toby had no idea if they could grow these alien trees into such a structure or even if they would have that much time on this world. But her father insisted that they should practice their cultural skills if only to keep them fresh in the mind. And besides, getting everyone to work on a project together was good for building bonds especially when they were effectively the tribal equivalent of a chop-toss salad.

And because she’d been involved in the building process (even if all she did was pass things to her dad as she clung to his back) she knew the best place to eavesdrop that wasn’t in the latrine. Been there, done that, learned from it. Or the eaves either for that matter.

Toby was thankful that she hadn’t yet hit her next growth spurt when she nestled into the nice little crook in the support cage next to the gap in the floorboards under the south room. As it was she could just barely fit in the cavity formed by the moss and wood. Her tail had to dangle out and she had to sit with her legs crossed to avoid jabbing her belly with her knee blades. If she stayed very still the only other people who’d notice her would also be eavesdroppers and they couldn’t snitch without snitching on themselves as well.

“...needs only a z-space transponder.”

“Jara Hamee know part. Cannon have?”

“This one knows not. A likely eventuality.”

“Ket Halpak say let yeerk work more. Get radio part. Get hork-bajir. Make big boom.”

“Aad Wanlo agree with Ket Halpak.”

“Aad Wanlo, Ket Halpak, want know how Toby Hamee do?”

“Aad Wanlo think--”

<Toby Hamee is spying!>

The sudden shout combined with the knowledge that she was doing something that she shouldn’t activated Toby Hamee’s flight reflex and she’d lept twenty feet away from her perch before her mind clamped down on her instincts. Looking around she spotted her spooker, Bek, hanging by his tail and snickering at her. Frowning she stuck out her tongue at him and shouted SHORT in her head, knowing that he was listening.

Bek, in turn, projected an image of her own bugged out fear face back at her with a smirk.

Then she noticed her dad, her mom, and about half of the other people at the meeting sticking their heads out of the door of the south room. Looking directly at her. Toby could feel her head blades flush dark. Quickly she pretended to be interested in picking pine cones. One by one the adults went back to their meeting, Jara being the last and still most suspicious of her.

She did not need to move her head to see Bek thump against the tree a tail length above her. He climbed down to her level face first, his bloodshot black eyes gleaming with mirth. < Toby Hamee is blushing. >

When he opened his beak to laugh she shoved a pinecone in his mouth. This did not phase Bek who thoughtfully crunched and swallowed the treat. Toby dropped down the length of the tree to the ground and headed for the river. This kept Bek too busy trying to keep up with her to send his thoughts, his short legs meant he had to hop twice as much to match her pace.

By the lake was one of the new recruits and one of Toby’s few new friends, Fal Tagut, experimenting with his bows. Fal’s mother-mother lived in a very steep valley practically on the other side of the world from Toby’s own ancestors. In that narrow valley, a seer spent her life inventing what humans would call archery. Not as a weapon or hunting tool, this was back before Dak shared the discovery of violence, but as a way to get ripe gooba fruit from the trees that were too close to the deep to forage under. These bows and arrows that Fal was making now would be weapons to use against the yeerks because the tribe needed long-distance weapons that didn’t need to be charged with nuclear power like their stolen dracon beams.

Fal Tagut did not stop his carving of arrows from leftover building planks as Toby and Bek approached. He did turn so as to see them with his good eye. The other eye having been put out by her namesake, a human named Tobias who happened to have the body of a bird and was also fighting in the battle against the yeerk slavers.

“Hello, Fal Tagut. How is?”

“Why Toby Hamee dark?”

< Toby Hamee get caught spying. >

She snorted at Bek and flicked his stubby horns that would grow properly if he stopped picking at them. “Bek got Toby Hamee caught!”

To Toby’s annoyance, Fal started laughing at her too. He said smiling, “Toby Hamee need play more hiding/seeking.”

She huffed and gestured at the entirety of Bek’s currently three-foot-tall being, “Bek hears thoughts! How Toby Hamee hide from?!”

Fal and Bek glanced at each other no doubt sharing some joke between them and then turned back to her.

“Easy.” Fal Tagut said.

< Hide thoughts. > Bek finished.

Toby Hamee rolled her eyes at them in the human expression of exasperation that was quickly picking up among both free and enslaved hork-bajir on Father Earth.  

Some days she really hated the concept of friendship. Other days she was glad that there were people in the valley who treated her as a peer worthy of ridicule and not just as a kid or as a seer with a great responsibility. And after a while, her embarrassment cooled off as she and Bek helped Fal craft and test different designs of bows and arrows. It was near sundown when her mother found her and both chided her for spying on their meeting and congratulated her on passing Aad Wanlo’s assessment. She would be allowed to lead solo in the next mission.

Toby Hamee celebrated this with a maple syrup mead toast to all of her teachers and her friends and everyone else she learned from.

////

Fal Tagut was the first to notice that Bek is missing.

He’d woken in the middle of the night with the screams from the Yeerk Pool cavern in his head. Brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers and cousins all terror and anger. Sadness and calls for vengeance ringing for a forever in his ears. He could still feel something slithering into his ear. His body would not respond. It scared him. His heart pounded in his chest and slowly he was able to make his body be awake as well.

Still, Fal Tagut was scared.

His mother was not here. His father not here. No mother-brothers. No mother-sisters. No father-brothers. No father-sisters. No cousins. None of the people he’d shared the cages with. Fal Tagut cried from loneliness.

After a bit, he leaped from his perch and sought out his friends.

Bek was not in his favorite tree. Curiosity beat out loneliness in Fal’s head. He was somewhat aware that Bek did not tend to sleep at night. When Bek did sleep he liked to sleep in the mornings far away from everyone in this hollow in this exact big oak.

What did Bek do at night? Fal Tagut had no answer.

Toby Hamee slept closer to where Fal Tagut did than Bek’s tree. But it was easier to go from start to far away to back to near than start to near to far. At least it was as far as Fal was concerned. Toby and her parents had a house in the second-best place in the Ellimist valley (the best place is where the community hall is). There were several houses in the valley, most clustered together in the same area. Jara’s house was the biggest of these and the door faced east to catch sunlight in the morning.

If Bek was here, Bek would whisper to Toby to let her know they were there. So Fal hesitated at the door with indecision. He did not want to wake Toby’s parents.

“Hear you. Smell you. Who is?” Jara Hamee’s voice was quiet. Fal’s horns flushed dark in embarrassment at his lack of stealth.

“Am Fal Tagut.” Fal Tagut answered in a matching whisper.

“Is time for sleep, Fal tagut.”

“Yes.”

A silence stretched out long enough that Fal’s crop started to feel slippery.

“Jara Hamee?”

“Yes, Fal Tagut?”

“Bek is not in tree.”

“Bek wanders when should be sleeping. Will look for when is bright.”

“Ok.”

In the darkness, Fal heard someone shifting on a bed. And then one person’s claws on floorboards. The sound of swallowing.

“Jara Hamee?”

“Yes, Fal Tagut?”

“Fal Tagut has sleep demons. Fal Tagut is alone.”

“Jara Hamee has big house and big bed. Fal Tagut is not alone.”

/////

Bek is lost.

Bek is not surprised by that. He almost never left the Ellimist valley alone. His sense of direction is bad, the rock in his head that should know where North is doesn’t work at all. It was too dark to see clearly and if not for the round moon he would see nothing at all. Bek did not sleep good around other people, especially sleeping ones. Their dreams were loud and kept him awake. Usually, he ended up falling asleep around sunup when everyone else was waking.

When Bek couldn’t sleep he went jumping.

Unfortunately, there were yeerks tied up to die at his favorite place to jump. He did not want to listen to their screaming and feel their fear and hate or the suffering of the yeerks’ prisoners. So he went west to one of the smaller valleys. Except, he miss counted a leap and lost track of Ket Halpak’s directions.  

Jara Hamee tells everyone, if not know where is make mark as go. If find mark, then has been before. So Bek made nicks in the bark of the trees as he passed by them. When Bek ran into his marks again, he made new ones and went in a different direction.

When the earth bit him in the foot, causing him to trip and scream, Bek decided that he was going to follow Ket Halpak’s advice. The lost should stay put . As he didn’t know why the ground was biting him, he decided to stay put. Maybe it would get tired of biting and let go? It didn’t seem to be trying to eat him like that bear did.

By morning his wounds were dry and didn’t hurt. He could see what was holding him better, some metal mouth on a chain nailed into the ground. It would be pretty easy to free himself if not for the humans rolling up in their car-thing.

Very loud humans.

Only humans, no yeerks. Bek was good at hearing thoughts and people held hostage by yeerks were very easy for him to tell. The yeerks felt one way and the captives always another. But just because they were not controlled by yeerks did not mean they weren’t scary. Especially not with those weapons pointed at him. Bek was very careful. He’d seen the kinds of wounds guns made, he did not want to be shot.

So he complied when they brought out the cage.

////

Toby would be much much more excited about her first real solo leadership job if the mission wasn’t searching for her missing friend. As it was she put on a brave face and got together a search party. Out of a tribe of twenty-three hork-bajir, nine taxxons, and four humans she had nine of her people, a third of the taxxons, and half of the humans to work with. That meant making about three teams with one taxxon each to track Bek’s scent. The one team without humans could cover a lot more ground especially if she assigned them the smallest of the taxxons. Every team member got a talkie and one map and at least one map reader to a team.

She felt confident about the mission.

That confidence shrunk by the end of that day.  It shrank some more at the end of the second day. It withered entirely on the morning of the third day when the taxxon of team two called in.

[“Find blood of the one who is Bek,”] Ssskartaa’s voice clicked calmly over the walkie talkie. [“Days old. Not enough for hork-bajir death. No panic in the dirt, one who is Bek was not scared. In dirt is human shoe prints, smell of gasoline, car prints. Car was heavier leaving than coming.”]

“Did the humans take the one who is Bek?”

[“It is strongly possible.”]

Toby radioed everyone to call off the search and regroup back in the Ellimist valley. She was very very tired and it was up to her to come up with the plan moving forward.

How exactly would they go about it? This wasn’t a mall raid, the humans couldn’t just drive them in the vans to a building in the middle of the night. They had no leads whatsoever about where to start looking. Frankly, Bek could be on the other side of the continent by now. They needed cloaking tech! They needed morphing tech! They needed a miracle!

Toby felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder. Her father bumped his horns against hers.

“Breathe deep.” Jara said calmly.

She did. Inhaling to the bottom of her lungs and after a few seconds, letting that air back out.

“Is good?”

“Is good.” She replied. “Toby Hamee got this.”

And then the “Goooaaahahahah” of the suspicious bird alarm call rang out over the valley. The taxxons vanished into the earth and the humans put on their masks and moved under tree cover. All of the hork-bajir aside from the lookouts filled out into the clearing to greet their visitor.

The timing of it niggled under Toby’s scales, what was the last time any of the morphers visited? Had to be almost a year ago when she’d just started hopping around on her own. The timing was suspiciously good for the current crisis, still she put on a pleasant face for Tobias as he circled on raggedy brown wings.

“Hello, friend Tobias!” Her father shouted at the human trapped in the shape of a bird.

“Good seeing you!” Her mother said as Tobias perched on an overhanging tree branch not more than a ska from where human Darnell was hiding. Ket was practically puffing with pride at how well her hiding lessons were working.

“Your timing couldn’t be better Tobias.” Toby said formally. The entire mood of clearing shifted. Yes, there was still work that needed to be done. Tobias himself seemed to deflate as well.

<What am I in time for?>

“One of our young males, Bek, went missing a few days ago. We have reason to believe that he was captured by humans while wandering outside of the valley.” Toby said. “We could use some help in finding him.”

<How do you know that? You’ve left the valley looking for him?> Tobias’ thought voice was surprisingly demanding.

“Yes?” Confusion at the odd question was evident on her father’s face. “Search? Look and look and look.”

“Cry, ‘Bek! Bek!’” Grath Sha added sarcastically. Toby remembered that the teenage hork-bajir once told her to never trust a human that asked very obvious questions. Grath has said something along the lines of, either they think you’re dumb or they’re terrible listeners .

“Find footprint. Find carprint. Find smell.” Her mother, Ket, continued.

“Bek is not in the valley,” Toby repeated incase the human was still confused. “We looked for him. We found his trail. We know that he was captured and taken elsewhere by humans.”

Tobias then said several words that could be nothing else but curses. Several they knew from the cages (or taught by those who’d been in the cages to those who’d not) or from the television movies that only came on late at night. There were a few new ones in there that caught their curiosity but Tobias didn’t want to explain them.

<How long has he been gone?>

“About three days,” Toby replied.

<Oh, man. I have to get back to the others. We'll start a search. But I don't think our chances are very good.> Then the bird-shaped human stopped still, <Do you think Bek could lead people back here? Would he be able to find his way back? The Ellimist has laid some kind of weird spell on this place.>

“Bek is not good with directions. He’d return to the woods if he were able and if he did we would be able to find him,” Toby said. “But he would have very little reason to lead others here.”

<I mean if he got made into a Controller, could he be used to find the valley?>

“I highly doubt that the yeerks could get one of their inside him, let alone control him.”

<What?>

“Bek is different. In head.” Jara said sagely. “Not seer, but strange.”

<Sure,> Tobias sighed as he took off. <I’ll tell Jake and the others. To think I came here to get away from my problems...>

The tribe waved goodbye as he flew away.

/////

Bek did not like this place. The wood of the building was clearly rotting. There was dirt and grime building up in the corners and crevices. Terrible smells. All around many animals. And all around was the feeling of sadness. Scribbling thoughts of creatures so bored they were rotting inside. Dripping feelings of lasting pains. Except for the humans that came and went, excited and frightened and happy.

He did not like this cage. There were no perches and the humans hit his fingers and toes when he tried to hang from the top. The dirty dry grass on the floor was too thin to be a good bed. Standing on it long made his joints hurt. The metal bowl of water he had to drink from was slimy. Gross. Looking around the animals in the other cages were in the same situation.

Bek was angry.

He was not big enough or strong enough to cut the metal bars of the cages. And he did not know what to do with the animals but he could tell Toby and their humans who would know more. And he could listen to the lock on his cage, there were lots of small parts he could not see. The humans opened and closed the door after sticking in a small metal twig. The twig made the little parts move. He could make the little parts move by thinking about it. But it was not easy, a puzzle! He needed to move them in the right order!

Days passed.

The humans figured out that he did not eat meat. Bek ate their bad bread crumbles because he was hungry. Bread made of grass and seed, yuck! Bek ate to stay strong. He ate, he slept, he tinkered with tiny metal things, and he watched.

A lesson from the Storyteller, Hruthin, yeerk, human. Similar. All think people who do not speak same or look same is stupid. Very silly. Tell secrets. Pay no attention. Is useful, no?

Bek paid very close attention to the yeerk talking to the human who owned the building. Something was wrong with the yeerk’s host. There was no human thought in the human body.

Strange.

The yeerk was thinking, yes tonight we will take this hork-bajir and make him bait for the tribe . The human was thinking, this strange one with bring me many materials . And further away, out of sight but not range of his thoughts or hearing were people spying.

////

The Tribe’s humans had gone out looking for Bek and came back with pulp leaves dyed with bad-smelling colors. Fal Tagut was told that the scribbles on the ‘paper’ said where to find his friend Bek. Fal believe them.

His other friend Toby decided that they would not wait for the Animorph humans to find Bek. She and he and humans Darnell and Jade would go rescue Bek themselves. With them, they took a few dracon beams and left in the van-type car. The others wished them luck and safety and they gave wishes in return, Ket Halpak and Jara Hamee were leading an attack on the hidden yeerk cannon at nightfall.

Fal Tagut did not like riding in the van. When the van was moving it felt like he was trapped at the top of a leap with the earth below pulling on his insides. Except instead of below the earth pulled him forward, back, side to side. He spent most of the trip trying not to vomit up the good bread that Loro Lok had made for them.

It took some time to get to the place where Bek was. The sun went from four hands until dark to settled under the earth by the time they arrived. There were already sounds of fighting and big animals in one of the buildings.

Toby Hamee said, “Darnell, your our driver. Keep the motor running. Fal Tagut! Jade! Give me cover fire. I’m going to get Bek.”

Toby burst from the back of the van like a seed from an exploding pod. Windows down, he and Jade used stunning dracon shots to clear her path as she flowed like water across the battlefield. Darnell kept pace with her, maneuvering the van around other cars and downed bodies.

Toby leaped onto the building and rounded to the other side. They rounded through the car lot to see Bek! And some strange many-legged creature and a wounded Ket Halpak. Fal Tagut was confused for a bit until he remembered that some of the Animorphs humans had shapes of Ket Halpak and Jara Hamee from when they helped them flee from the yeerks. From the booming voice in his head, Fal guessed that the strange monster was Visser Three.

None of this stumbled Toby as she dropped from the roof, cutting off the Visser’s muzzle in the process. She turned on the spot and cut across the monster’s throat with an elbow blade and chopped the legs from one side of the Visser’s body causing it the flop to the ground. From there she lept for Bek and Fal shot the yeerk-in-human that tried to take aim at her back.

With a mighty triumphant honk, Toby bounded for the van with Bek clinging to her back. The van swung around open back to the fight as the two tumbled in. Using his feet he helped Toby close the van doors.

The ride back was three times as long to avoid leading anyone back to the valley and twice as bouncy with a shot out tire from the fight.

////

Toby Hamee did not relax until she set foot back into the Ellimist valley.

Her plans worked. Her friends were safe. She faced Visser Three in morph in battle and lived to tell of it.

And tell she did.  In the light of the bonfire surrounded by her friends and family and tribe. Everyone that had gone out that day taking turns to tell their personal stories about their missions. She spoke of Visser Three’s fear and surprise when she cut into their host’s morphed flesh. Bek talked about his captivity and the minds of the humans and yeerks he encountered. Her mother pantomimed the size and beauty of the yeerk cannon and base exploding. And her father outdid them all with a funny story about how he got the parts for his deep-space radio that involved weaponizing a bunch of bananas of all things.

Eventually, the fire died down and exhaustion snaked into everyone and the party ended. Folks said their goodnights and left for their homes to rest and recover. Bek, of course, stayed the night at her house. And so did Fal Tagut.

The peace of the next morning’s breakfast was broken by the ‘many odd birds’ alarm call.

No one actually dropped what they were doing per se, yesterday had been a long day and people wanted to eat their breakfasts. Her father, in particular, was busy tinkering with the radio at the table. The metaphorical cat was already out of the bag about their human tribemates, who only put on their masks as they continued eating their cooked eggs and soft bread. And the taxxons had discussed it the other night that they might as well reveal themselves before some accident happened and the Animorphs attacked them as enemies. Besides, if she left her oak and maple porridge at the table Bek would absolutely steal it.

Tobias arrived first fluttering around overhead before landing in a nearby tree. The hruthin following soon after on swift legs. And then came the humans with the taller ones easily outpacing the shorter ones.

“Ok, so that was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” Rachel said with excitement. She brushed her long yellow mane out of her face and her eyes seemed to be sparkling.

“Where did you guys get a car!” Marco puffed breathlessly. Then his eyes wandered warily to the taxxons who waved greetings with a few of their forelimbs.

“You do know there’s cars everywhere in the city right?” Darnell responded.

Cassie gave him a very long and strange look that Toby did not yet know how to decipher, “You didn’t… steal that van did you?”

“Of course not,” Darnell lied through his teeth with notes of sarcasm, “My uncle Reese let me borrow it.”

“Didn’t know you guys had so many other friends,” Jake said. His mouth a stern frown. “Seems like you didn’t need our help at all.”

“By luck, our own investigation turned up the location of Bek’s imprisonment. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a way to contact you to alert you of recent developments.”

That seemed to placate the Animorphs. And frankly there was no way that Toby was going to tell them about the walkie talkies and the radio project, her parents hadn’t and the humans didn’t ask. The andalite noticed that Jara was building something but didn’t seem fit to ask what. They left soon after anyway, to some other mission and the tribe wished them luck.

The rest of the day went as planned.

Cooks cooked. The doctor made his rounds and taught his students. Parents cared for their children. Workers put their blades to use on building new houses. Everyone keeping busy while waiting for the main show.

Her father finished the deep space radio not one hand from sundown and she and a decent chunk of the adults and taxxons went to another valley (specifically chosen for the caves and signal strength with the regular radios) to use it try to contact other rebel groups out in space. It was a funny sight, chitin and scales effectively crammed together as everyone crowded to watch Jara Hamee hunched over a tiny desk. Everyone waiting with bated breath while he switched stations as he played -here-happy-whole- dozens of times on a small wooden hand drum.

-here-happy-whole-

-here-happy-whole-

-here-happy-whole-

-here-happy-whole-

-here-happy-whole-

-here-hap- [-heard-received-welcome-freedom-comrades-]

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Over the course of the Democratic primary, Latinos have been a crucial part of Sen. Bernie Sanders’s base. His campaign has made a concerted effort to win their support, with resounding success thus far: According to entrance and exit polls, he won 50 percent of Latinos in Nevada, 50 percent in California and 39 percent in Texas. And three of the states that vote on Tuesday — Arizona, Florida, and Illinois — have large Latino or Hispanic populations, which could be good news for Sanders.

But there are signs that he may lose strength with this group in the next round of primaries — and at least part of the racial divide that’s emerged in the contests so far may shift. As the newly dominant national front-runner, former Vice President Joe Biden may have new openings to win over Latinos in Arizona and Illinois — in particular, older Latinos. Additionally, Sanders is especially weak among Hispanic voters in Florida, where his support for socialism and praise of aspects of the communist revolution in Cuba may have hurt him.

“Sanders is continuing to perform well among Latino voters in states like Washington, but it’s not like Latino voters overwhelmingly dislike Biden,” said Matt Barreto, a professor of political science at the University of California, Los Angeles, and the co-founder of Latino Decisions. “The question is whether Latino voters start seeing Biden as the true front-runner in this next round of states and start to shift toward him, or if they are staying with Sanders.”

Sanders still has a good shot among Latinos in Illinois and Arizona

It might not be enough to help Sanders win Illinois or Arizona — according to our model, Biden has a 49 in 50 (98 percent) chance of winning Illinois, and a 29 in 30 (97 percent) chance of winning Arizona — but Sanders still seems likely to outperform Biden among Latinos in both states. In Illinois, a new Emerson College poll showed Sanders leading Biden 56 percent to 42 percent among Hispanic or Latino likely voters, despite Biden’s 20-point lead in the state overall; Gravis Marketing found a similar split. And two recent polls of Arizona — one sponsored by Telemundo and the other by Univision/Arizona State University — each gave Sanders a single-digit lead among Hispanic or Latino Democrats there. A third Arizona poll, by local firm OH Predictive Insights, did give Biden a big lead among both Hispanic or Latino Democrats and Democrats overall, but it was conducted almost entirely before former New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Sen. Elizabeth Warren dropped out of the race.

Another good sign for Sanders: The Latino populations in these two states skew young compared with a state like Florida, more similar to other heavily Latino states where Sanders has already performed well, such as California and Nevada. That’s helpful for Sanders because he is extremely popular among young voters, including Latinos — he won 71 percent of Latinos under the age of 30 in California, according to the exit polls. And it will likely be difficult to convince many of those younger supporters to switch their allegiance to Biden, according to Vincent Casillas, a Democratic strategist who lives in Chicago and worked on Hispanic communications on Barack Obama’s 2008 presidential campaign.

Casillas pointed out that Sanders has the support of several progressive Latino politicians from Illinois — most prominently, Rep. Chuy Garcia — who are popular among younger voters. And although Casillas is a Biden supporter, he admitted that Sanders has a big edge when it comes to voter outreach among Latinos in Illinois. “The age divide is going to be a big problem for Biden here — there’s no way to sugarcoat it,” Casillas said. “Sanders has done a great job of organizing and energizing young Latinos here in Illinois. He’s way ahead of Biden in terms of outreach to this group.”

But Biden has at least one advantage in Illinois that plays less of a role in other states — his affiliation with Obama, who lived in Chicago for years and is still very popular with the Latino community there, according to Casillas and others. “Obama is still number-one in Illinois and so I think you may see some Latinos, maybe older Latinos in particular, just naturally migrate toward Biden’s campaign because of his affiliation with Obama and the fact that he’s winning other states.”

In Arizona, meanwhile, an eagerness to support the candidate who can beat Trump may nudge some Latinos into Biden’s column. Eduardo Sainz, the Arizona state director for Mi Familiar Vota, a Latino civic engagement organization, said that Latino Democrats in Arizona, like Democrats across the country, are eager to support a candidate who can win a general election against Trump, because so many Latinos are first or second-generation immigrants. “Many people are feeling a lot of fear under this administration, so I’ve seen that defeating Trump is a top priority for many Latinos in Arizona,” he said.

And voting for Biden is likely no big stretch for Latino Democrats. Even if he’s not quite as beloved as Sanders, most Latino Democrats in Arizona like the former vice president just fine. In a December poll by Equis Labs, 50 percent of them had a favorable opinion of Sanders, while just 14 percent had an unfavorable one; Biden was viewed favorably by 44 percent and unfavorably by 27 percent.

But Sainz has also observed an age divide among volunteers for his organization that leads him to believe that many young Latinos will continue to support Sanders. “From our older volunteers, I am increasingly hearing that they want to make sure that we beat Trump and based on what they’re hearing they think Biden has a better and better chance, so their vote is going to Biden,” he said. “But the younger demographic are pretty much either undecided or voting for Sanders.”

Even if Sanders wins Latinos in Arizona and Illinois, though, his victories might be less decisive than in states like California. “Now that Biden has gained front-runner status, I don’t think we’ll see as many dramatic wins for Sanders among Latinos,” Barreto said. And perhaps most importantly, Biden is still forecasted to win both states in spite of Sanders’s strength with Latinos.

But Sanders seems likely to lose Hispanic voters in Florida

On the other hand, Hispanic voters are likely to contribute to a massive Biden win in Florida. Biden is leading Sanders there by an average of more than 40 percentage points and has a >99 percent chance of winning there according to the FiveThirtyEight forecast. And according to most recent polls, Biden is leading among Hispanic or Latino Floridians by large margins (if not quite as large as statewide) — in stark contrast to other states.

Biden leads among Hispanic voters in Florida

Top Democratic candidates’ support among poll respondents who identified as Hispanic or Latino (depending on the poll) in seven recent Florida polls

Pollster Dates Biden Sanders Mason-Dixon/Telemundo March 4-7 48% 37% Florida Atlantic University March 5-7 45 25 St. Pete Polls/Florida Politics March 6-8 68 17 University of North Florida March 5-10 65 28 Gravis Marketing March 10-12 49 46 Emerson College March 11-12 64 28 Point Blank Political March 11-13 45 41

Includes the most recent poll by each pollster that has surveyed the race since Super Tuesday.

Source: Polls

It’s a good reminder that Hispanic or Latino voters nationwide aren’t a monolith. Like other voters, their political views often vary along other demographic dimensions, such as age and ethnic origin. For instance, the Hispanic population in Florida skews older — 35 percent are older than 44, compared with 24 percent in each of Arizona and Illinois — putting Sanders at a natural disadvantage.

And in Arizona and Illinois — as well as California, Nevada and Texas — the Latino population is overwhelmingly Mexican American. But Florida is far more diverse. A plurality (29 percent) of the Hispanic population there identifies as Cuban American, and there are hundreds of thousands of Venezuelan Americans and Nicaraguan Americans as well. Sanders’s brand of democratic socialism is distinct from the policies of former Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez, but he did support Nicaragua’s communist government in the 1980s. And according to Barreto, some of the Hispanic population in Florida may be “very uncomfortable with the socialism that has been practiced in their countries in Latin America,” and could be wary of supporting a self-identified democratic socialist like Sanders.

Sanders certainly did himself no favors among Cuban Americans when he told 60 Minutes recently that “it’s unfair to simply say everything [former Cuban President Fidel Castro did] is bad,” citing Castro’s literacy program. The remarks led to a swift backlash, especially in Florida. Rep. Debbie Mucarsel-Powell, one of two Hispanic Democrats who represent Florida in Congress, tweeted, “I find Senator Bernie Sanders’ comments on Castro’s Cuba absolutely unacceptable.” Two weeks later, she endorsed Biden.

Overall, Sanders now looks extremely unlikely to win the Democratic nomination for president, and cracks have emerged in his previously solid base of Latino support, but whether Latino voters move decisively into Biden’s column on Tuesday remains to be seen. If it does happen, it could be a symbolic final blow to Sanders’s campaign.

Confidence Interval: The First Female President Will Be A Republican

https://ift.tt/2wW1fdV

[hithelleth]

I was tagged by @bea2me to do self-isolating watch game. Thank you!

I had to search tumblr a bit for what I’m supposed to do, but here we go. Under the cut, because it got long (with gifs, as requested. ;))

Watched:

My Life is Murder - an Australian comedic murder mystery show with Lucy Lawless as the lead. I watched it just before self-isolating, but I’m gonna rec it again just because.

Contagion (2011) - Eerily current. Just swap Covid-19 with a mystery virus the name of which I forgot and you get the scenario we’re living. Except with a bit more competent US government? It felt a bit unfinished though, in particularly in regard to Marion Cotillard’s character, so, bleh. (Also,WTF did I even like to torture myself with this? Is it not enough real life is the way it is right now?)

The Two Popes (2019) - a biopic about Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis, acting parts interspersed with documentary shots, very good (but I am Catholic.)

Wings of Desire (1987) - German; apparently Kripke’s inspiration for Castiel about an angel who falls in love with a trapeze artist, the free will or lack there-of used as an allegory for defiance against/the system behind the Iron Curtain. A rather artistic piece with a feel of a theatrical play. I especially liked the black-and-white vs.coloured scenes montage. 

Husband for Hire (2008) - what the title says, an heiress has to get married to get her inheritance, so she hires a guy. A rather adorable rom-com, it made me laugh and forget other things for a while, which was all I was looking for, so job done. (Not to be mixed with a telemundo telenovela, which apparently also exists.)

(No gifs to be found, alas.)

Watching: 

Besides what’s left of LoT, The Rookie, and CPD before the covid suspension kicks in (and New Amsterdam, but eh, I tend to forget it, because I don’t like this season that much, same goes for Grey’s and 19. Why am I still watching these anyway? Oh, right, habit and ease of access.):

Wellington Paranormal - a New Zealand comedic sci-fi police procedural, in a mock-documentary style about Wellington paranormal police unit consisting of three (3) cops, more incompetent that not, but very entertaining. I’m on ep 2 of season 2 (also, do not miss the Christmas special, b/c it’s A+) and I am enjoying it very much. It might even have been you, Bea, who recced it? In any case I highly recommend it further. ;)

Four Weddings and a Funeral (US) - based on the 1994 movie, set in London, with mixed British and American characters, with a diverse cast, as a bonus Andie MacDowell guest stars in a minor role, a decent amount of funny moments, not too dramatic, it really manages to capture the movie feel, I’ve only got two episodes left and I’m loving it!

Planning to watch:

Hmm, because I’m a masochist, I’m eyeing the last season of SPN and The 100 S6, but I’m going to try to restrain myself. It’s not like I have a (*goes to check*) list of 31 shows and 46 movies (gah these lists grow worse than hydra, watch one, add 5 more ;)). Um, so. 

On the short list, though:

Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears - I’m actually planning to get to this one today after lunch, because I can’t wait. (While I’m at that, I do totally recommend Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, it’s Australian murder mystery show happening in the 1920s and it’s fabulous! The movie is a continuation of the series (which was finished.)

The Last King (2016),  Little Women (2019), A Very English Scandal, El Tiempo Entre Costuras,  the Cosmos reboot, oh, right and I started Siempre Bruja (Always a Witch) a couple of years ago and never finished it, because while the concept intrigued me, the particular brand of suspense frustrated me too much, but I might give it another shot to finish it. 

I’ll report on these if/when I watch any.

And if I run out of things to watch, I can always do a TO rewatch I want. 

Tagging: @lglorien​, @eveningspirit​, @jadedbirch​, @wellwhataboutme​, @totallyshelfaware​, @stargazerdaisy​ and whoever else wants to do it (as always feel free to ignore.)

[switchinspirals]

Texas Turnaround Part 2 Safe!

Continuation of request for @texanstrong

Trevor took his time his time washing Jake’s body down in the shower. The new sensation of smooth hard larger muscles lathered in soap and dripping with water was erotic in it’s own right. He did think to himself for a second how familiar it was standing in this shower. His strange lucid waking dream of being in this very shower with that other guy. Except this time he was in the actual body of Jake not his own. After finishing his shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, he went to investigate the apartment. It was an older apartment on the south eastern side of Dallas based on what the GPS said on his phone. It was a mess, it looked like there was a party here recentlty. Although looking through the clutter it seemed as if laundry day only happened once every month if it that. Trevor also got the strange sensation that Jake didn’t spend to much time here, and the one called BAE probably didn’t either. He turned on the TV and Telemundo switched on, he didn’t realize it was just background noise for the moment as he turned on Jake’s phone and begin to look.

Jake didn’t have a facebook, or atleast not the mobile app, but he and instagram, grindr, scruff, jack’d, and tinder. All the profiles read the same.

“Jake,  Age:22  Hieght:5'11 Latino,  Speaks English and Spanish, Body Type: Jock, Bodybuilder, Toned.  Negative, In an Open Relationship”

It matched his apperance perfectly. And the picture was a seductive image of selfie of Jake showing off his perfect body. The discription about himself was different for each app, yet very similiar. The grindr one had the most detail though. “Vers top, but bottom for the right guy, I am picky but for cash I can get into any dude, prefer if you host, if I host don’t be a bitch about my place. I have a bf he sometimes down for 3somes but prefer not to get him involved, don’t be a dick or a racist.” It was a strange sensation for Trevor to read someone else’s profile yet know it now currently belonged to him. Trevor was no stranger to hook ups, but he was more picky about who he had sex with, and had never in his life had or considered getting paid for sexual favors or sex it self. Yet now being in Jake’s body and life, there was an excitement about getting paid for it, even if the dude wasn’t attractive. Trevor knew he was good looking and a catch, but Jake was the superior to his former body in every way. And Jake didn’t give one fuck about what people thought of him, and for the first time Trevor realized how hot it was to have a guy so infatuated with him even if he wasn’t that attractive. Trevor thought back to the night before, the blonde kid in the shower, he was cute but his body was only slightly toned and less impressive than his old body back in Houston. Yet during that strange experience he enjoyed the way the boy felt up his body. Now knowing he was feeling up Jake’s body made that whole experience even hotter. He saw how many guys had messaged him on grindr alone, all sorts of boys and men. Older muscular men, big hairy men, twinks of types, jocks, it was like almost any type of guy one would want. He did notice a lack of white dudes reaching out to Jake though. Most of the messages were positive, sensual and seemed to lead to a hook up. It was rare to find a negative conversation or one not leading to sex but they were still in there. He learned from those Jake was a high-school drop out, and slutted out a few years earlier and pissed of a lot of guys who still held it against him for sleeping with their boyfriends or husbands. Trevor didn’t know how to feel about that, in some ways it bothered him how Jake seemed to not care about those people’s relationships, yet at the same time him sleeping with them sounded hot, and exciting. As for being a high-school drop out well it seemed sad but maybe if he was trapped in this body long enough he could change that.

Trevor decided to stop reading all the messages and then swiped to his calendar, Jake it seemed was a landscaper, had his own truck somewhere around this apartment complex. He seemed to do most of his jobs in the surrounding suburbs of the DFW metroplex. That’s when his alarm went off, the alert was for “GYM TIME” Trevor wasn’t sure where Jake worked out at but he figured this apartment had to have some sort of gym. He looked through his wallet, there was no gym membership card, and not credit card, just Jake’s drivers license confirming his grindr profile was accurate, and fifty dollars of cash. Trevor found blue tank top with the words “RAVE” on ot it, and some black very short gym shorts, he quickly put them on and walked to the bathroom again. He admired himself in the mirror, Jake or rather he now looked sexy as fuck. Part of Trevor wished he could get back in his body if only to make out feel and have sex with Jake, it was a pleasurable torture being so hot and desiring the very some flesh you inhabited and Trevor was loving every second of it.  He walked out of the messy apartment and into very warm and sunny Dallas day.

He did find a small gym for the older apartment complex, it barely had any machines or weights, Trevor using Jake’s voice mumbled to himself “This probably isn’t where he works out” but he didn’t feel like getting lost looking for a gym. So he started to do his normal routine with what he had available there, which wasn’t much. Trevor first started to work out using some free weights, doing basic bicep curls, in front of the mirrors. As expected it was a sexy and very exciting to watch the muscle stud work out. Trevor found himself making seductive faces and holding on the the flex of the bicep curl longer to show off the muscle. And in return the sexy stud Jake flirted back to him through his reflection and showed off his muscles. It was hot and making him horny. But it was also getting hard to focus, it seemed as if the more he saw himself in the mirror the more he wanted to rip off his clothes and jerk off again. Trevor wasn’t sure if Jake had a higher sex drive than he was used to, or that his ultimate fantasy of being someone else was just to much for him to handle, or if both of those facts were keeping his new uncut cock hard in those sexy gym shorts. He decided to turn around and work out facing the windows.

The view was much more grounding for Trevor, he clearly lived in the poorer part of Dallas, it wasn’t very nice, it reminded him the neighborhoods and area’s in Houston that were old, falling apart, and rather depressing. A far cry from the suburbs of Houston he was used to. Yet despite that he still felt a rush of anxiousness and excitement. It was a new life, and one where he didn’t have to give a fuck. In part because Jake never did, and also because there was no longer and consequences to his sexuality. He could truly just enjoy being young and sexy. Even in less than two hours he had inhabited this body, he knew Jake’s life was far from perfect, the grindr profile showed a dude who had great sex, but also experienced some rather disturbing racism. And his view showed what privilage he had in his old life, but there was something about not worrying about his sexuality anymore and being able to expeirence anything that made the more negative changes worth it. And after turning his head around to see that sexy face smiling at him, he knew it was worth it. Trevor took a picture of himself and posted it to instagram. It went viral to the several of thousands of followers Jake had on his instagram. Commets filled with compliments and lustful desire.  A direct message came in from someone named Alex.

“Loved the pic, I am bored and have $50 I wanna spend, come over let me lick you up and fuck me raw and it’s yours cutie.” Trevor felt another surge of excitement. He quickly looked up Alex’s instagram pictures, they were for the most part rather dull and ameraturish. His face was nothing to brag about and his body was that of a very smooth, very skinny twink. There was some toned definition on it but he was even more skinnier than the kid Jake was fucking in  the shower before. Yet the lure of fifty dollars, his chronic horniness and a strange new desire to fuck this twig of a twink pulled Trevor’s ambitions and desires and make him use Jake’s hands to text him back. “Hey! Ya would love to fuck forgot where u live send address?” Trevor waited. A reply and an address, a quick search on google maps revieled he lived in a near by suburb. Now came the hard part finding Jake’s truck. Wondering around the parking lot like an idiot Trevor kept clicking the lock button on his keys to see if he could hear a beep. After about ten minutes of searching he found it. The truck was a modest 2011 White Ford F150 with a landmower, and landscaping equipment in back, most of which was rather old and needed to be replaced. The inside of the truck was hot, smelly and needed to be cleaned but that wasn’t important he had to get to Alex’s place. The drive was uneventful and Trevor made it to Alex’s nice place in the suburbs. Clearly he still lived with his parents. When he knocked on the door, the young only been eighteen for four months twink greeted him with a overly friendly hug. They both walked into the nice clean house and sat on the couch. Small talk was made, and Alex’s hands were already trying to explore. There was the occasional gesture of him rasing up Trevor’s tank top to feel a single one of Jake’s abs. A single “You know what it’s like honey” followed by Alex’s kind yet obviosily clever excuse to put a palm on Jake’s firm pecs. “So where are your parents? They aren’t going to walk in on us?” Trevor said in Jake’s sexy Spanish accented voice. Alex was amsused and laughed “You weren’t so bothered the first two times that shit happened, but no they are out of town no need to worry, you don’t have to lie and say your some poor exchange student I seduced or anything.” Trevor gave a surprise looked using Jake’s face of course. But Alex was tired of talking and went in for the kiss. It was a passionate yet sloppy kiss. Alex’s hands went crazy all over Jake’s or rather Trevor’s new body. Trevor had had guy into his body before but this was different. Alex was significantly smaller and skinnier, and because there was money involved he felt Jake or well Trevor up as if he owned him. It was a strange sensation for Trevor but he enjoyed it. The kissing went down his neck, Alec playfull licking, touching, kissing, Trevors dark muscualr pecs. The foreplay was hot as hell for Trevor as much as it was for Alex. Then it happened Alex dipped his hands into Trevor’s briefs ignoring the gym shorts and grabbed Jake’s big thick uncut cock. The sensation was once again new, it was like the first time Trevor felt someone touch his cock, except it was better. He could feel Alex rubbing the foreskin up and down. In a panic Trevor down his shorts to free his growing cock. Alex stopped for a second, watching Jake’s foreskin stretch. He seemed a little bit repulsed by the foreskin.

“Something the matter?” Trevor said as he looked to Alex, “No honey, just foreskin always looks weird to me, feels like I am not looking at a cock is all, no worry once you get hard it looks better.” The feeling made Trevor feel embarrassed and a little annoyed. He decided to ignore it but it felt strange to be objectified to the point that his foreskin which to this point was something he wished he had in his old body, was now a turn off for this kid. Well time to try being aggressive. Trevor used his new found strength and wrestled Alex to his back. “Well you wanted a dominant jock, you got one suck on this cock” And with that he jammed Jake’s now his cock into Alex’s mouth. And again the sensation was brand new, like the first time yet it felt different, the foreskin making this experience even more pleasurable. Despite Alex being a bit of an asshole, his blow job skills were really impressing Trevor and he seemed to know how to take it rather deep with out gagging. There was several times Trevor almost came, both from the hand job and now the blow job.

He pulled out of Alex’s mouth and then put on a condom and began to fuck Alex, it started of slow and almost vanilla.  Trevor was having such an amazing time with another new sensation of the foreskin in an ass that he didn’t notice Alex’s boredom till Alex moaned “What’s wrong with you, make me your bitch Jake, fuck me like you always do” Trevor decided why not, and began to really thrust faster and harder. He typically never tried to fuck too rough, but he decided to do it now and it felt amazing. Trevor got fully into character and started to moan loudly, calling Alex his bitch, and fucking harder, he said a few phrases in Spanish too, since Alex requested that in between his moans. And then he came inside Alex into the condom.

“That was way too fucking fast…” Alex said “Sorry I just…” Alex laughed, “Don’t sweat it cutie, I loved how rough you were today I could tell you didn’t hold back.” He then started to feel me up, “Grab my dick and jerk me off” I complied and did as he said “Fuck for once you’re doing it right” Alex moaned. “It’s like you learned how it feels to jerk off with out foreskin and aren’t holding back.” It was true Trevor was using his normal tactics to get Alex off. After about five minutes of jerking and sucking Alex’s cock while he felt up Trevor’s new muscular body Alex came. And He handed him the fifty dollars. Trevor was unsure what to do but  Alex gave him the non-verbal cue with his hands to get dressed, and so Trevor did. “Well that was fun, I gotta get clean up have a safe drive back to wherever you live,” And with that Trevor was once again back in the sunny warm humid day walking to his truck.