#i think also shoes and sneakers particularly are a very practical item of clothing

[campbyler]

Is Will a sneakerhead or does he not care whatsoever what shoes he wears?

ooooh i’m assuming since you specified will in particular that you maybe came here from another post or because of something we said in the fic, but we have indeed made our will byers a little bit of a shoe guy!! i would definitely not call him a sneakerhead in the traditional sense — in that we don’t think he cares much for collecting them for trading/value purposes or anything like that, and i don’t think he is too knowledgeable about collections’ histories and whatnot — but he definitely is very interested in them and i think they are an article of clothing that he would take real pleasure in finding rare and interesting pieces for!! the camp whiteman attire is white sneakers only, so unfortunately he does not get to showcase this often during the summer, but we included a couple of pieces we think are very him in this moodboard (especiallyyyyy the bowie sneakers which have been on my acswy will moodboard FOREVERRRR) and i think they are a fun way for him to express himself stylistically. we also made our mike wheeler a little bit of a Jacket Guy in the same sense — not really to collect to sell or anything like that, but i think they would both be ecstatic to find unique pieces for themselves at places like vintage stores or secondhand online and to show them off (like mike with pins on his jackets for example)

anyways to answer your question: definitely not a traditional sneakerhead, but he absolutely Does care

#i have started to feel this way about bags recently so that might be a road i go down in the future #but anyways like !!! just one of those little character details we came up w tht unfortunately we can’t work into this fic too much bc of #their uniforms and such #but it is very important to us #i think also shoes and sneakers particularly are a very practical item of clothing #not like for example if you’re into collecting smth you can’t wear or use often #so i think for him it’s an interest that he can also get use out of year-round and can still be really cool and expressive #he also got a pair of sneakers he’d been eyeing from his parents for his 17th bday and to me that is what really kickstarted the interest #if you care. #asks #acswy reference

[seeingteacupsindragons]

I keep thinking about this photo and the way Miyoshi characterized them with their new, modern outfits so well.

Miyoshi has talked actually quite a bit about the character designs for the characters in this series, and it's very obvious how much thought and care was put into each of them--to the point of having Billy designed before chapter one.

And I think that's really reflective here, even in these normally impossible outfit choices.

Let's start with Louis: He's the only brother wearing color (blue jacket, orangey-brown boots), as William and Albert are both in head-to-toe neutrals. Louis has a lot of that, too, but Louis has this thing going on where...none...of his clothes...quite...go...together.

He's wearing what looks to be joggers??? With a very nice ribbed turtleneck sweater. Just wildly clashing formality levels here. And a nice hooded duffle jacket, which falls in a weird formality level between those two extremes and doesn't quite work with the turtleneck. A hooded jacket and turtleneck is, ah, not what one would consider a particularly "fashionable" choice. And then's he wearing what looks like hiking work boots. Those are not fashion boots, either, and they're not sneakers.

My point is, what even is this combo? He looks like he got dressed in the first things his hands grabbed out of the closet and then shoved the only pair of shoes by the door on his feet on his way out of the door--his pants are tucked into them, but lazily. The shoes have fake elastic laces, which look childish and are also lazy. He does not care.

And Louis has never been one for looks over practicality: he scarred his own face because it was expedient and useful. And yet there's a pop of color and life to him that his brothers and their mental issues don't quite have. A childishness to the rushed mismatch of things and the most casual clothes any of the brothers have.

William will be quicker, mostly because I already talked about the fact that's he's dressed like a beatnik, a subculture known for its focus on art, anti-commercialism, and equality. So. Yeah.

But William also looks a little like Louis in that he probably doesn't care much about his appearance: he probably has a closet just full of all black clothing he can always match and a neutral, plain trench with no adornment.

He's also dressed to attract as little attention as possible. He's attractive, of course, and his clothes look nice and fit well. But they're incredibly unremarkable, with no accessories or styling to them. No sparks of bright colors. Just there, fitting in, going unnoticed, much like his regular ol' suit in the main canon. If he dressed like Louis, it would attract attention by being different so he puts a little more effort in.

And last, Albert. Albert is the only one of his brothers wearing accessories: that scarf is a fashion scarf, not a functional one (for all that it seems a little chilly, as they're all wearing coats over what appear to be sweaters). He has gloves. I think I've seen those fashion booties in the Women's department. His collar is popped and his pants are cuffed.

But none of those are flashy, expensive accessories. He's not got a 2k dollar watch or cufflinks or furs or even any color. He's in neutrals just like William, and his clothes are rather plain. But the focus with him is on the way he wears them: he's put effort into the scarf and gloves and making sure those very closely fitting pants go OVER the boots and then cuffed them to show off the boots even though they don't appear long enough to need the cuffing for height (and he's mfing tall, like, finding pants for those legs must be hard enough). He looks nice, he looks fashionable and neat and well-cared for...but he doesn't look like a dandy. He's not trying to peacock around. It's a very subtle, classy way to look well-dressed without feeling like a misuse of funds or rubbing it in anyone's face.

None of Louis's items of clothing go together, but it's all very practical and it functions, and that's what matters, right?

All of William's clothing goes together because he bought the blandest items possible because he doesn't want to think about himself or have other people think about him. He's busy thinking about Math and Sherlock.

Albert wants to be classy and subtly fashionable without being an ostentatious asshole.

And it all just works really for their personalities, and I just love the attention and care put into things like that to make sure you can really feel and recognize the characters from a glance (like when Miyoshi was discussing the importance of giving William and Sherlock such distinct silhouettes despite being the same size and width).

It's a lot of work, and work well done, so I want to appreciate it all with you.

#Moriarty the Patriot #Yuukoku no Moriarty #William James Moriarty #Albert James Moriarty #Louis James Moriarty #character design

[whattimeisitintokyo]

Somos Familia Ch 39: It Hits the Fan

Chapter 39: It Hits the Fan

Today was the day!

Miguel's birthday!

Héctor chuckled to himself as he finished shaving and wiping off the leftover shaving cream off his face, leaving behind the little tuft of hair that was his goatee. He had often considered shaving it off completely, being too old to have such juvenile facial hair, but at this point in his life it was practically trademarked. All his official photos and even illustrations of him all had it. He was practically stuck with it.

He chuckled again, letting his mind drift over these trivial things that made him smile. Any thoughts that didn't include what this day also was. Yes, he would put items on the ofrenda for his beloved daughter, tell her how much he missed her and loved her. Even give a respectful nod to Ernesto's foto. But other than that his thoughts were only on Miguel's birthday party. All the family would be there, everyone would feast on Miguel's favorite meals, presents, games, laughter and love. If he just concentrated on that then the pain wouldn't be so bad.

He didn't sleep well last night. He never did on the days leading up to Dia de Muertos. He vaguely remembered waking up crying once last night, but he was soon lulled back to sleep by his wife's calming presence and he was fine afterwards. She didn't even say anything when he awoke the next morning, and he was thankful for that. He could pass off the dark circles under his eyes on his age, and no one besides Imelda would notice.

He stepped into his walk-in closet and pushed aside Imelda's beautiful dresses to get to his clothes. He was feeling particularly festive today and pulled out his royal purple suit jacket off the hanger. Thinking about which tie would go well with hit, he looked up and saw something gleaming in between the hanging clothes.

The golden tooth of a grinning skull.

Immediately his mood dropped as he blankly stared at the headstock of his once prized guitar. He didn't feel any pride or joy in looking at it, hadn't even played it for over nine years, but he couldn't bring himself to hate it either. Many times he had considered giving it away or, in his more depressive states, simply throw it into the dumpster where he felt it belonged.

But he never could. Because his beloved wife had given it to him on his birthday, oh so many years ago.

'Y-you… bought this for me?! I don't know what to say…'

'You don't need to say anything Héctor. Feliz Cumpleaños. Now stop saving your money for it and go buy yourself some food, tonto.'

And then she had kissed him for the first time ever. On the cheek, yes, but it had made his whole head burst into flames and his ears buzz. It was the true beginning of their relationship, and this guitar was the key. It was a precious moment in his life: a fond memory. So no, he couldn't get rid of it so easily. But it wasn't going to stay in the closet anymore either. He'd have a talk with Chente later about sending it off to Rivera de La Cruz Records to be put on display to the public if they wanted it. It would still be his, but he wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Picking up a red necktie he pushed a bunch of clothes over the guitar, concealing it again, and walked away.

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

"Facundo! Don't smear icing on your sister's dress! Anselmo! Osvaldo! Stop fighting, you're in front of company, show some respect! Ay, Dahlia hold the baby for me, would you? You're the oldest, you need to help Papá."

Miguel walked into the courtyard with Victoria to absolute mayhem, with Victoria pulling him out of the way just in time before a sticky pastry struck the wall where his head was. Nodding his thanks to his niece he looked out to see Elena and Charlie playing with five other small, very rambunctious children dressed in their best church clothes. Soiled in mud, breakfast foods and sans shoes of course, but there was an effort to get Martín and Rosita's children dressed nicely for the special occasion. Martín was standing over them, trying not to be knocked down by the running, screaming children as he also tried not to drop the baby girl in his arms. Matty was also seated at the table set outside, holding Clara and looking very smug that his own children were behaving themselves properly, and Julio was looking out at the chaos with a thousand-yard stare.

Sitting down after finally passing the baby to his eldest, Martín slumped into a chair with a groan and leaned towards Matty in exhaustion. "Remember the Nazis? How easy it was with them? They were so neat and organized. Precise."

"They blew your leg off, amigo."

"At this point in my life, I wish they blew something else off."

"Papá, Papá!" One of Martín's sons came up to him, pulling on his sleeve and smiling with gapped teeth. "Charlie wants to play horses! Can we, por favor?"

"Ay, all right." Reaching down underneath the table, Martín fumbled around a little with belts and straps before pulling off and giving the child his prosthetic leg. "Don't get it dirty and do not, I repeat, do not… stick forks in it again."

Suddenly Julio sat up with a smile and shouted. "Hey everyone! The birthday boy is here!"

All the little children stopped immediately to look at Miguel standing in the doorway, before screaming again and running into him for hugs. This time Victoria didn't help, and Miguel let out a squawk when he was bombarded with seven sticky children. "Feliz cumpleaños, Miguel!" several little voices yelled out.

"Agh!... Gr-gracias… AHH! You guys are squeezing me to hard!"

"Ah, there you are mijo." Imelda swooped in and managed to pry the little ones off her son, brushing down his hair and giving him a kiss. "Fashionably late to your own party, I see. You look very nice today."

"Gracias, Mamá." Miguel said, pulling down his sleeves to cover up the wristbands that Victoria had made for him. 'I've gotta look nice for my performance tonight.' He said to himself. It wasn't a charro suit that he would have liked to wear, like a professional mariachi, but the bolo tie and shiny new boots were a nice touch.

"Well I hope your hungry." Imelda said. "We've been cooking up a storm all morning in that cramped little kitchen. And Wanda has made a delicious surprise for you."

"Cinnamon rolls!" Wanda said happily, placing a tray of pastries absolutely dripping with icing and candied nuts on the table. "My grandmother's recipe. I really hope you'll like them, but if you're anything like your brother then I know you're going to love them Miguel."

"No, I don't love them." Matty said, already double fisting the freshly glazed rolls with hungry eyes. "I'm damn near addicted to them. I crave them all day every day. But they're considered a Sunday food, and I'm forced to go without all week! It's torture, hermanito, pure torture."

"Which reminds me, since I'm making them on a Friday that means you've had them two times this week. So, we can skip them on Sunday and have them the next week."

"What?!"

"It's actually a little funny." Wanda said as Matty started to hoard as many rolls as he could in front of him. "Rosita's had three so far, but she's been pouring lime juice all over them. Lime juice! Can you believe it? How can you eat something so sour with something so sweet is beyond me!"

The others laughed a little and started to doll out the rest of the pastries to everyone else, with only Matty noticing the way Martín's face had turned pale white and he sunk lowly in his chair. "Lime juice?… Oh, no no no no nooo…"

Matty shook his head with pity, but mostly with exasperation, and ate his cinnamon roll. "Cochino…"

Breakfast was delicious, of course, and the party continued throughout the day. There were party games, cake and ice cream and even more sugary delights that threw all the little children into an even more manic frenzy until they had finally passed out underneath the shade of the tree. The ofrenda had been set up, decorated with flowers and offerings for Imelda's parents, Leti, the late Facundo and even Matty's friend Barto, while the adults shared stories of their dearly departed despite Héctor's best efforts to divert their attention to another party game or business idea he had. Even Chente and his best friend Javier had come to whish him a happy birthday to join the festivities. They always seemed really cool to Miguel, and he also felt like they understood his frustration with the lack of music.

Miguel absently kept checking the clock every so often, time seeming to move achingly slow as it creeped towards seven. He had hidden his guitar underneath the ofrenda table, somewhere he knew his father wouldn't be near that much, so it would be ready to be picked up when he left.

But for now his concentration was on opening the last birthday present, then he could go get his real gift. "Wow, sneakers! Gracias Tío Oscar y Tío Felipe!"

"Not just any sneakers." Felipe said proudly.

"But the new Rivera Freeflyers!"

"The new line of children's shoes-"

"-that goes on the market next year."

"Designed by us of course."

"But you're the first kid to wear them!"

"Feliz cumpleaños!"

Smiling, Miguel set the shoes back in the box. "That's really cool. Thanks again. Is that the last present? Aw man, that's sad. But I guess good things can't last forever. Well, if we're done I have some stuff I-"

"Atata. Not so fast, Miguel." Héctor walked up to him, smiling widely. "Because I also have a present for you."

Sitting back down, glancing at the clock again, Miguel's smile drooped a little in uncertainty. "Okay…"

Clearing his throat theatrically, Héctor stood next to his son in the center of the room spoke loud for all to hear. "Twelve years ago today, Miguel Rivera… beloved nephew, tío, brother and son… was brought into this world. A harrowing, frightful day for the whole family, especially for his dear mother, mi diosa, but one that ultimately ended in triumph. For that tiny baby was able to grow into a healthy little boy, and who has now grown into the fine young man standing before us all today."

"And since you are on the brink of adulthood, it's high time that we start thinking about your future, Miguel. Specifically what you're going to do for a living when you grow up. Now as much as we, and pretty much the whole world, loves your Mamá's shoes I get the feeling that's not where your passions truly lie. But after having a talk with Chente yesterday, we came to the conclusion that maybe your future lies with… Rivera de la Cruz Records."

Miguel noticed the way his father flinched at saying Ernesto's name, like he always did, but that didn't matter at the moment. There was a sudden bubbling of excitement and anticipation welling up inside of him, and he happily looked over at Chente for a confirmation. The former assistant, now CEO of the biggest movie and music production company in Mexico, gave him a silent smile and thumbs up. Turning back to his father with a big smile, Héctor continued.

"So your mother and I talked about it last night, and we both decided the best opportunity for you would be-"

Miguel could see it now: His name in lights, the crowd chanting his name, strumming a guitar just like, no better, than Tío Nesto's. Singing songs that he had written himself, the crowd singing along with him because they were so good, so memorable. Immortalized for all time by doing the one thing he truly loved to do: Playing the guit-

"-to start training you in business, just like your brother! And to start with that, we're going to enroll you in business management classes!"

…..

…..

"… What?"

There was not a sound coming from anyone else in the room. Wanda, Julio and Coco looked at each other in complete disbelief and mild disgust, Matty slowly bringing his hand over his eyes in complete exasperation. The other adults in the room cringed and suddenly became very interested in their plates of leftover food and cake, except for Vicente and Javier. Poor Chente stared at Héctor like he had just condemned the man to his death, eyes wide and mouth agape in horror, while Javier was bent nearly in half in his chair. Shoulders shaking and biting down on his clenched fist, Javier was doing everything he could to not just bust out laughing at the entire fiasco in front of him. Oblivious to everyone's obvious displeasure of his grand announcement, Héctor continued.

"There's a school nearby. In San Benito. They specialize in training children for college. Mateo, you went there, remember?"

Nodding and smiling painfully, Matty said, "Yes, Papá. I remember going… I remember willingly going-"

"Well, you did so well there that we thought Miguel would too! Now, they've got a new program where they include room and boarding, and you can do your regular schooling there."

"Which" Imelda interjected, "I have already vetoed. They still have just the same smaller classes every other weekend that you went to, Mateo. I don't want our little boy to be away from home for so long."

"Right," Héctor said. "I agree with her. You'll still go to school here, so don't worry about that. You won't miss your friends or your family. But I feel like this is a great opportunity for you."

Miguel felt like congratulating himself for how well he was hiding his displeasure from his parents. No, displeasure was too light a word for how he was feeling. He felt like his face was about to break and shatter for how long he was holding the rictus of his earlier smile, and his heart and stomach freefalling down to his boots. He felt like he was slowly dying, and yet his parents were looking at him like they were doing this for his own good. And they were proud of it too!

Maybe it was his own fault: being so secretive about who he truly was and what his interests were. His parents didn't know who he was at all and thought he would be glad that they were practically dooming him to a fate worse than death.

Swallowing painfully, almost as if he felt like he was about to cry, Miguel croaked out. "W-well… That's… a lot to take in."

"It's just an idea, mijo." Héctor said gently, as if finally sensing that his son might not be totally ready for such a radical change in his life. "And you've got plenty of time to decide. We can talk about more in the morning alone."

"It's just that that- uh…" Miguel fumbled a little with his wristbands hidden under his sleeves. "I'm not like Matty was when he was my age. I mean… I'm more like a normal kid, you know. Not a nerd like him."

"…Hey…"

"I mean I not as smart as him. I won't be any good in a school like that."

"Don't worry about that, Miguel." Imelda said softly, placing her head gently on his head and smoothing his hair. "You'll have your family here to guide you. We'll help you every step of the way. You won't be alone."

"And to help you even more, here's another present!" Héctor said. From behind his back he pulled out a small briefcase, made from leather dyed in a brilliant shade of red, and the letters M.R. embedded on the front in solid gold. Placing in the boy's hands, Héctor smiled widely and clapped his hands with pride. "Look at that. Another businessman in the family! You look so professional already! Ha ha!"

Glancing down miserably at the briefcase, as if he were handed a live grenade instead, Miguel nodded and once more looked up at his parents with that same faked, gritting smile. "Gracias Papá… Gracias Mamá…"

"Aw, feliz cumpleaños, my boy!" Héctor said as he hugged his son happily. "And don't just thank me. Thank Chente, since this was also his idea!"

"Ohhh…." Vicente moaned, trying to ignore the way Javiar was applauding loudly next him with that stupid smug grin of his. "Please don't thank me…."

"Better watch out!" Héctor jokingly said. "One day Miguelito here will take your job out from under you!"

"…I'll do that…"

As the adults carried on with their conversation, Miguel kept looking at the briefcase in hands. It really was a beautifully designed briefcase, something that Matty probably carried around all the time and would probably love having himself, but all it did was make Miguel want to cry. This wasn't what he wanted at all. This wasn't him. And the fact that his own parents didn't see that in him, couldn't see that, broke his heart.

He would have started crying then and there until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning he saw Victoria standing next to him, giving him a look of sympathy and understanding. But also of defiance. Glancing down at the briefcase in disgust, she said, "Put that thing away and go get your guitar. Wanda and Papá will distract Abuelito and everyone else. It's showtime, Tio."

With a start Miguel looked over at the clock and gasped. All his inner turmoil had made him nearly forget about the contest! And it was in twenty minutes! With Victoria giving him an encouraging smile and a slight shove Miguel took off to the ofrenda room. Ducking underneath the tablecloth he flung the accursed briefcase underneath it and grabbed his prized guitar, feeling so much better now that it was in his hands. Glancing to his late sister's foto, and then to his Tío Nesto's, Miguel gave them a watery smile.

"Wish me luck." He whispered, and then headed out the doorway.

No one noticed he, Victoria, Matty and Coco leave the party at all.

Except for one little girl with a big mouth.

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

Picking up a small, fried grasshopper from the bowl on the side table, he twisted it to and fro for his grandson to see. It was such a lovely surprise: Here he thought there wasn't many chapulines left for the season, and then all of a sudden Julio gifted him with a heaping bowl of the crunchy little things! Then Wanda had come up to him, saying that his grandchildren wanted to spend some time with their grandfather and to tell them stories. He was more than happy too, even if it was odd that he and the children were practically shoved into the kitchen and the door was slammed shut. But for now, with Clara babbling happily in his arm and with Charlie's rapt attention, he continued his story.

"So at the end of the day, there I was: Scratched up by dried alfalfa, bitten all over by every mosquito there ever was, and with a bag of caught grasshoppers slung over my shoulder. I took it to old Señor Perales and he would fry them up for the customers, and for my pay he would give me a handful of them on a stale tortilla. Sometimes that would be the only thing that I would get to eat for the whole day. But I didn't mind much, it was worth it for me. They're good, no?"

"They're salty." Charlie said as he crunched one with a grimace.

"Sí. Salty, crunchy and my favorite snack. And that was the first job I ever had at four years old. Your age, mijo! Grasshopper catcher extraordinaire."

"My friend Timmy likes to pick out earthworms from his Mommy's garden and eats them too, even with dirt on them! Is that the same thing, Grandpa?"

"No, your friend's just odd."

"Oh."

The sound of the door being opened caused the three of them to look, only to see Elena poking her head in. Héctor was immediately worried: His granddaughter looked very troubled, staring at the floor and lip trembling, trying to decide if she should come in or not. Shifting the baby in his arms to free his hand he held it out. "Elena? Is there something wrong?"

Nodding a little, she slowly edged her way in and closed the door. "My tummy hurts…"

"Aww, too much cake and ice cream, huh?" Héctor asked kindly, squeezing her hand when she took it. "I guess it also didn't help that your cousins gave you too much excitement as well. Well, if you want I can walk you home-"

"It's not that, Abuelito." Elena said softly. "My tummy hurts because I feel guilty."

"Guilty? Did you and your sister have a fight? Because if you said or did something to make her upset I'm sure she'll forgive you. That's what a family who loves each other does, mija. We always forgive each other with time."

Eyes widening, Elena looked up at her grandfather with a slight glimmer of hope. "Really? Family forgives each other for anything?. They don't… get really mad and hate them for it?"

"Of course not."

Elena smiled a little at that, looking like she felt a little better. Then her smile faded, and she shook her head. "No, no… Papá says that I should always do what my parents say…"

Blinking in confusion, Héctor nodded in agreement. "Uh, yes… Yes, children should do what their parents say. Your Papá's right."

"Buuuut…"

"…But?"

"But you're Mamá's papá…" Elena said slowly, nervously picking at her fingers and biting her lip hard in agitation. "So, she has to do whatever you say… right?"

Now he was growing concerned. Pulling his granddaughter close to him, Héctor made Elena look at him squarely in the eye. "Elena, if something is wrong with your Mamá you need to tell me, claro? Now, what's going on?"

"….Well…"

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

"Congratulations, Señor Magallanes."

"Oh you too, Mrs. Rivera."

Chuckling and clinking their mugs of coffee, Julio and Wanda sat on the old boarded up well and each took a sip of the hot brew. They watched as the Reyes children ran around the courtyard in a wild frenzy, having woken up from their sugar comas and putting an end to their parents' moment of peace and quiet, and smiled smugly to themselves. Both because they were thankful that their own children were not as wild and rambunctious, and also for a job well done.

"Nice work on getting the fried grasshoppers so late and getting so many. I'm told they're a seasonal…delicacy." Wanda grimaced at the word.

"Gracias. And that was a nice move of giving him your kids. 'Charlie wants to hear all about you when you were his age!'" Julio chuckled at that. "It really was a nice distraction."

Wanda hummed and gave a sultry smile, gazing off into the distance. "Well, Matthew has always said that I am… a master of distraction. In more ways than one"

"…Uh, right…" Taking an uncomfortable gulp from his coffee mug and coughing awkwardly, Julio changed the subject. "So when should they be back?"

"Well Miguel is the first act." Wanda said. "So it'll start at seven, he'll sing his little song, then Matthew and Coco will bring him right back. So I guess they should be back in about half an hour? Plenty of time before anyone notices they're gone. And if they ask we'll just say he went to a friend's house."

"Thirty minutes?" Julio asked, a little downhearted at the thought. "So, he won't get to stay to see if he wins?"

Wanda nodded in sympathy. "Yes, it is a shame. But honestly do you really think he would win? I mean, I know he's very good, but he'd be going up against musicians who have been playing for much longer than he's even been alive. It seems a little unlikely, right?"

"Sí, you're right… It still would be amazing if he did, though."

"Honestly I think the poor boy just wants to be heard. Can you blame him? Especially after that… gift his parents gave him. Ugh…"

"Sí. Let him have some fun for one night." Julio nodded, bring the cup back up to take a sip. "Thirty minutes. Plenty of time. Go out, perform, come back. No one will suspect a thing."

"All will be well." Wanda agreed.

The sudden slamming of a door hitting the wall startled everyone in the courtyard. All the children skidded to a halt, the adults stopped talking immediately, and all eyes turned towards a very livid Héctor Rivera.

"MIGUEL IS GOING TO PLAY THE GUITAR IN THE PLAZA?!"

Clara started to cry in fright in her grandfather's arms, but Héctor paid her no heed as he marched up Julio and Wanda. "Elena just told me that Miguel's playing in the contest! Julio, is that true?!"

Julio stared at his father-in-law, chalk white and looking like he was about to drop dead on the spot. His mouth worked itself up and down, but all that came out was choked squeaks and croaks. "Uh-uh…uh uh…ah…uh."

With a growl, Héctor turned his glare to his daughter-in-law. "Wanda, did you know anything about this?!"

Wanda, also much whiter than usual, managed to give a nervous half smile and shrugged with a weak chuckle. "Uh… No hablo es-pan-ol?..."

"Forget it!" Héctor shouted, placing the now screaming baby in her mother's arms and turning out to the exit. "You all want to go behind my back?! Fine! I'll put a stop to this myself!"

As Héctor left the courtyard in a mad dash, Julio wilted with a moan. "No no no no! This has all gone to hell. We had one job to do and we failed even that! Matty and Coco are going to kill us!"

Wanda shook her head, trying to calm down her poor baby. "No, they won't!"

"You're right. Only Coco is going to kill only me!" Julio cried. "Elena, why did you tell Abuelito?! You promised you wouldn't!"

Elena was sobbing by now. This wasn't supposed to happen: Abuelito had said that he wouldn't be angry, that he wouldn't hate Miguel for what he did. But it was all a lie! "You don't keep secrets from family, Papá! I couldn't stand lying to Abuelito!"

"What is going on here?!"

They all turned to see Imelda, Rosita, Martín and the twins coming out of the ofrenda room, confused as to why everyone was either in shock, scared or crying their eyes out. With a sigh Wanda came up to them. "Oh, Mamá Imelda, you might as well know now. Miguel was going to play the guitar at the music competition in the plaza-"

"What?!"

"- and Papá Héctor just found out. He's going after them to stop him. I've never seen him look so mad! I think he's going to do something-"

"Stupid…" Imelda finished, hitching up her skirts to run as fast as she could in her high heeled boots. "Dios mio, Héctor! Héctor come back!"

"Oh Rosita, could you take the baby?" Wanda asked as she handed Clara to Rosita. "I need to go to! Matthew might need my help! Come on Julio, Coco needs you to!"

"Wait! Coco will need my help as well!" Rosita cried out. "Martín, mi amor, hold the baby and hold down the fort. Oscar, Felipe! Let's go!"

"Wait, what?!" Martín cried out, watching helplessly as all the adults ran out of the Rivera complex, leaving him alone with nine children all under eight years old, screaming and crying with fright. Looking at Clara in one arm and his own crying daughter in the other, Martín growled in frustration. "Oh sure! Leave all the kids with the one guy who can't run away! I see how it is! This is discrimination! I am a war veteran, I deserve some respect and a break!"

"Don't worry, Tío Martín…" Elena sadly said, taking Clara away from her uncle and holding the baby close. "I'll help you with the babies…"

"Ay, gracias Elenita." Martín sighed in relief, patting her head gratefully. "You're a good kid."

Burying her face in her little cousin's blanket, Elena tried to hide as the tears came pouring out again with her sobs. She wasn't good. She didn't deserve the praise. She deserved to be punished, not Miguel. Miguel was going to be kicked out of the family. Abuelito hated him now.

It was all her fault.

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

"I knew it." Miguel moaned as he, his siblings and Victoria made their way to the plaza. Clutching his guitar for dear life, as if he was afraid it would be ripped away from him, he hung is head low while Victoria guided him by his shoulders. "I knew Papá would never even consider letting me play music, he just hates it too much. I'm gonna have to play in secret for the rest of my life."

"Yeah." Victoria sighed with a pout. "I guess I'm going to have to as well. I'll never get to dance in the likes of La Scala or the Royal Opera House. I'd even settle for dancing at a rec center at this point."

"Cheer up, both of you." Matty said. "Miguel, you know Papá doesn't hate music. He just… has some hang-ups about it that is hard for him to overcome. A lot of bad things happened to him, and he attributes it to music. You understand, sí?"

"No, I don't." Miguel said. "And that's easy for you to say. Papá sang and danced with all three of you and let you play instruments. I never had that."

"That's not true, Miguel." Coco said. "Papá used to sing to you all the time, especially when he tucked you into bed. And he played his guitar for you, don't you remember that?"

"No. I was a baby, Coco."

Coco tsked and shook her head in mock sorrow. "Well that is a shame. You should remember stuff like that. I, for one, can remember stuff quite vividly all the way from when I was about two years old. It's a gift I possess."

Breaking out of his current funk, Miguel looked up at his older sister and smirked. "Gee Coco, maybe you should be the one in the talent show instead of me."

Matty barked out a laugh and nodded. "Yeah, you could tell everyone what you had for breakfast in May of 1936."

"Or recite an old shopping list you made ten years ago." Victoria added.

Coco huffed and crossed her arms with pout. "All right, all three of you can go kiss a burro."

"Well we can't do that now, because," Matty said as they rounded the corner, "we have arrived at our destination."

As they all walked into the plaza, Miguel smiled when he saw the gazebo decked out in the familiar decorations for Dia de Muertos: garlands of cempazuchitl flowers, papel picado and, most excitingly, posters for the contest. He also saw several other musicians dressed up in charro suits and practicing on their own instruments. They had probably been practicing for much longer than he ever had and were probably better than him too. But Miguel didn't care if he won or lost the contest, he just wanted to perform in front of people. To show them all that he had what it took to be a musician. And luckily for him there were plenty of people who had come to watch.

A very… large amount of people.

Practically the whole town. Even other kids from his school were there.

Suddenly Miguel felt a nauseous curl in his belly, and his breath seemed to stick in his throat. Without realizing it he took a step backwards, softly bumping into his sister, and flinched in surprise when she knelt down to speak to him.

"Miguel?" Coco asked softly. "If you're nervous you don't have to go up there."

"Wh-what?" Miguel asked, wincing when his voice gave an unexpected squeak and trying to cough it away. "Nervous? I'm not nervous!"

"You're really pale Miguel, and you started sweating bullets in less than five seconds." Victoria pointed out. "It's actually quite impressive."

"Callate!" Miguel grumbled.

"It's alright if you've changed your mind, Miguel." Coco said and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "We can just go right back to the museum, and Papá will have never known you were here."

The very mention of his father, how much he hated music, how he would be forced to play music in secret again if he backed away now, how this might actually be his last chance to perform before he was to go to that stupid business school, steeled something inside of Miguel. Straightening up, jaw clenched tight and his guitar held up like a shield, he shook his head vigorously. "No! No way! I'm gonna play in mariachi plaza if it kills me!"

"That's the spirit!" Matty said. "And good thing too because it looks like you're on now!"

"What?!"

"They're beckoning you over! Knock 'em dead and break a leg, gordito!" With a hearty slap on the back Matty propelled his little brother towards the stage. As they all watched the boy meekly walk to the contest coordinators, Matty leaned into Coco. "He can sing, right?"

Coco nodded. "Of course! He has the voice of an angel, you're going to be blown away."

"Either that or he's going to blow his dinner all over the stage floor." Victoria said.

Miguel took his place next to the steps of the gazebo, turning back to wave at the siblings and niece, who all returned it with a thumbs up. With his back turned to them again Matty sighed wistfully. "Papá would really love this. He would be so proud. If… you know…"

"If he was like he used to be?"

"Si…" Matty nodded. "It just doesn't feel the same without him here. Miguel is so much like how our father was: Filled with a love of music, bursting with creativity. Miguel may look up to Tío Nesto, but I see Papá in him more than any of us."

"You're right." Coco sighed. "I wish Papá were here to see this too."

"SOCORRO! MATEO!"

Coco and Matty immediately felt their hearts stop, blood seize up, insides clench and air leave their lungs as they heard their full names bellowed out from behind. Turning around they saw a sight they had never seen before. Héctor Rivera, normally so jovial and mild-mannered with all he encountered, marching towards them red-faced and glaring holes into their very souls. As he got closer and closer to them, Coco whispered, "Itakeitback, Itakeitback!..."

Placing himself in front of his sister and niece like a shield, Matty leaned causally on his cane and smiled shakily. "H-hola, padre! Qué tal? I d-didn't expect to see you come to the plaza today. They're having a music contest right now so you might want to go back and-"

"Would you both care to explain to me," Héctor said as he reached them, very close to seething like a bull. "why I had to hear from Elena that my son is going to play the guitar, on a stage, in front of an audience?!"

With a loud groan Matty turned to glare at Coco. "You told la Lengua Larga about the plan?!"

"I told you it was a bad idea, Mamá."

"So this was your idea!" Héctor growled as he glared at Coco. Distantly they could hear Imelda calling out as she was making her way to the plaza herself, but they all ignored her for the moment. "You're letting your brother perform? After what nearly happened to you? What did happen to your godfather?!"

Coco glared back. "What happened to Tío Nesto was terrible, but it was an accident that could have happened anywhere! It had nothing to do with music! Why can't you see that?"

"It has everything to do with what happened to him!" Héctor shouted. "And I will not have the same thing happen to my-"

"Put your hands together for our first contestant, Miguel 'De la Cruzito' Rivera!"

As a loud smattering of applause and cheers erupted, the family turned to see Miguel taking the small stage of the gazebo. Smiling nervously and waving at the crowd, he didn't seem to notice the brewing turmoil taking place amongst the audience. Héctor gritted his teeth and was about to make his way towards his son to put an end to this nonsense, when one of the nearby bands decided to strike up some intro music for the young guitarist. After all, the son of the world's greatest songwriter, the patron of Santa Cecilia, deserved a grand entrance for his musical debut.

And they couldn't have picked a worse song.

As the trumpets blasted the upbeat version of Remember Me and the audience clapped along to the beat, Matty and Coco moaned in dread and instantly went into damage control. Coco and Victoria shouted in vain over the crowd to get the musicians to stop, but their voices were lost among the deafening cheers and song. Imelda heard the song playing from the distance, and with a curse tried to run even faster to her husband. Matty grabbed his father by the shoulders and shook him, trying to direct his attention to him. "Papá! Papá, listen to me. Listen to my voice. It's okay. It's just a song. Come with me, we'll get you out of here…"

It had been about a year since he had heard that song last. Not intentionally, of course, but when a song is that popular people are bound to either sing it aloud or try to play it themselves. One such incident occurred when he was out with Elena for a treat of ice cream, when suddenly he had heard it. A quite lovely rendition on a violin by that scarf-wearing kid with the weird facial hair whose named escaped him. But it was enough to do the trick. Several painful minutes of him hunched low to the ground, pressing the heels of his hands into his ears hard, trying to get his breathing under control. His own granddaughter, seven years old at the time, was forced to take action herself: Swatting that kid with her shoe in order to stop him from playing, then sitting with him silently and comfortingly until the panic had finally passed. They had both lost their ice creams on the ground that day, but the two had grown even closer due to the experience.

But those same feelings were rushing back just like that last time: Nothing had changed. Immediately his heart started hammering and it became hard to breathe, his insides squirmed and clenched painfully and those awful visions flashed in his mind again. As the song continued he didn't see his eldest son frantically trying to get his attention, but his youngest daughter wheezing her last breaths in his arms. Of Ernesto walking away from him to the stage, underneath the bell that would eventually turn him into nothing but a smear. And the blood, so much blood. He could smell it, practically taste it.

He was about to try to block out the sounds like he always did and then curl up in a ball, when he happened to glance at the stage again. Ernesto was there, about to perform with the bell perch precariously over his head. But no, that wasn't Ernesto standing there. It was-

"MIGUEL! NO!"

Breaking Matty's grip on his arms he made a run for the gazebo, pushing and shoving others out of the way. He didn't hear their exclaims of alarm and pain as they were roughly shoved aside or to the ground, nor the cries of his family as they begged him to wait, to come back. No, all he heard was that damned song playing loudly in his head, now a ticking timer to the point where, at the end, his boy would be no more.

Miguel didn't notice his father parting through the crowd at breakneck speed, too busy tugging on the emcee's sleeve to tell him to make those musicians stop playing the song 'That's the song I'm going to play.' But it was too late, and as the band played the last triumphant note he turned back to the crowd with an eye roll and hefted his guitar up to begin to play the song everyone had just heard.

Just in time to see his father diving straight for him.

Imelda reached her oldest children just in time to see Héctor tackle Miguel and send them both flying to the back of the gazebo. The incident was so shocking that aside from a large gasp from the crowd, it became so still and quiet. Quiet enough that everyone was able to hear the sickening crunch once the two of them landed in a crumpled heap.

A flash of terror made it's way down Imelda and her children's spines. "No…" she breathed, and then quickly made her way to the gazebo herself, the others following her.

The song was over, put panic was still surging through Héctor as he got up and immediately started checking over his boy. "Miguel! Are you all right?! Sit up, let me see!" He patted his body up and down, trying to see if there were any injuries, thankfully finding none. But the boy seemed shocked, and frantically he cupped the boys face to look in his eyes. "Did you hit your head? Look at me, mijo-"

"Papá…"

Miguel's eyes were widened with shock, but surprisingly the wind was not knocked out of him nor was he scuffed or marked in any way from the surprise tackle. The guitar in his hands, however, was not so lucky. It had taken the brunt of the assault and protected the boy from harm, but it had not survived. Three of the strings had snapped right off and were coiled in bent angles, the body was completely caved in from the center hole and up, and the neck had broken cleanly in half, now only connect by the remaining strings. His beloved guitar was now destroyed. His father had destroyed it.

"What-? Why?... What have you done?" Miguel whispered as he gripped the broken neck and tried in vain to get it to stick back into the position. "It's ruined…"

Héctor looked down at the broken guitar in his son's hands, taking in the cheap gold paint that had been sloppily painted all over it. The crude designs done in brown, and the headstock. That same mocking skull that looked so much like his own, except for the one personal detail that he had made for his older brother: The thin mustache above perfectly white grinning teeth. His worries and concerns over his son instantly vanished. He was fine. Now what came back was more comfortable, easier for him to handle: Rage.

"Where the hell did you learn to play guitar?!"

Miguel's attention snapped back to his father, and he shrunk back at the ferocious anger meekly. Before he was able to squeak out a pitiful answer, he felt eyes on him. Turning slightly he paled when he saw everyone in the crowd looking at him with morbid curiosity. The whole town had watched as his supposed debut had crumbled to ash, his most prized possession had been reduced to kindling, and his father was now bearing down on him about to start a very public fight.

It was all ruined. It was too much for him, and the poor boy broke.

With a choked-out cry of heartbreak Miguel flung what was left of his guitar away, shot up to his feet and fled from the gazebo. The crowd gave him enough room to make his getaway and he was grateful. He didn't want to be held back, didn't want to be touched by anyone. Especially his family. He heard his Papá angrily yelling at him to come back, his Mamá pleading with him to do so as well. But he couldn't even look at anyone right now.

He just ran and ran, broken sobs escaping as he gasped and panted.

He hated his birthday.

#coco #coco pixar #pixar coco #coco fanfic #Hector Rivera #miguel rivera #mama imelda #mama coco #worst #birthday #EVER

[kpopkrappykraftbin]

It Wasn’t the First Time

Chapter 4

Junhui x Reader

Mild Language

Word Count: 1515

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Same old, same old. hopefully it’s not complete crap

    It had been at least an hour since The8 had spoken and you had spent it stiff shouldered, looking out the window at the passing scenery. You had given up on trying to figure out where you were going after passing the city limits. You could have asked the weasel but even he seemed to be in his own head. Quickly glancing his way you saw him the most relaxed he had been all day. He had his head back again, face tilted towards the cab’s beige ceiling. He wasn’t sleeping, unless he slept with his eyes open. A possibility you supposed but not likely. He was eccentric, cliched even, but not that weird. You didn’t think.

    Though with the amount of time he’d been silent, you would have assumed he had drifted off. It was for that reason you left him alone. Despite you not particularly liking him, he’d obviously been through a lot of stress for at least the past couple of days and it seemed like he could use some semblance of peace. You were still pissed at the idea that he was the reason you were also on the run, but then again it’s not like you weren’t at least partially to blame. What did you expect to happen in your line of work? Easy old retirement? No, more likely caught and thrown in jail, or fired and evicted-- if you weren’t caught and killed.

    The third option had always seemed like the least likely in your mind. But now you were living it. You were on the run from someone who wasn’t afraid to shoot a gun through a door at an unknown inhabitant. They sure wouldn’t be afraid to shoot at a small time thief. You might have been stupid for accepting a job from the grease weasel in the beginning, but you were almost sure following him away from the danger was the smart decision this time. Maybe. You were never really sure when it came to any decision involving him. Except the one dictating your general distrust for the man.

    You may have come from a small town but you knew when you were being taken advantage of-- gimmicked. This man, from the beginning, you knew was in it for himself. You were a tad naive in expecting fair play, but you had always been weary of his intentions. Though was there anyone who worked in conjunction with the mafias that had innocent motives? No, and if there was, your employer was not one of them. Selfish: he always had been. So why did he bring you along. Why make the stop at your house?

    You eyed your duffel bag stuffed at the bottom of the cab encroaching on your foot space. Shifting your gaze over slightly you noticed the informants sneaker clad feet. They were white, or had been. They were more grey now than anything. How often had he ran in them? What for? The only shoes you’d ever seen him in were brown loafers. He’d always pretended to be too upscale for anything else.

    You also noticed his lack of any type of luggage. Had he already sent his things to where you were heading now? What, he didn’t want to ruin his nice leather handbag? No, that was taking it a bit far even for his level of arrogance. If he knew he was going to be pursued, he would have skipped town earlier, not sent his bag before him. So he must not have had that much time to plan. Did he actually leave in such a hurry he didn’t pack himself a bag? It should have only taken him a few minutes to pack a few clothes. He would have been hard pressed for time to neglect something so essential. But not so much as to give you a ten minute warning?

    ‘Hell, I’m gonna give myself a headache with all this back and forth. Who knows what’s up the grease weasel’s sleeve?’

    “I can practically hear the gears in your brain grinding, y/n. Take a break. Take a nap. We’ll be there in maybe another two hours or so.”

    Your employer continued to face the ceiling only looking at you out of the corner of his eye. He held a small half smile aimed at you trying to convince you to follow his suggestion.

    “Well since you’ve apparently decided I was important enough to tell to go to sleep, how about being important enough to tell what the Hell is going on?”

    You angled your body towards the left to confront him.

    “Good luck with that.” The8 spoke up from the front seat, “Informant is a bit of a misleading title for him. Pulling any kind of info from him is like pulling teeth.” he gave a huff of a chuckle, “You’re own teeth that is.”

    The aforementioned title holder looked smug at the description, leaning forward to rest his arm on the back of the driver’s seat.

    “I take my job very seriously. Job title: informant; job description; intel gathering--”

    “And being absurdly annoying.” you cheekily interrupted, sitting up a little straighter. The8 gave a small chuckle more to antagonize the subject of your bullying than for humor’s sake itself. Your victim looked absolutely affronted by your mostly serious claim, mouth dropped in an o shape with wide offended eyes. He leaned back heavily, bouncing slightly against the seat, throwing his forearm across his forehead in what could be called the most dramatic act of the century.

    “And this is how I’m treated by my good friends with whom I choose to spend every spare second with? Who I would risk someone else’s life for?”

    You and The8 shared a look in the rearview mirror.

    “At least the last part isn’t wrong perse. Factually I mean. It is however, completely unethical.” The8 teased the man beside you.

    He glared at the back of the headrest, cheeks bubbled in a toddler styled angry pout. You had to laugh. Even if only at the pure ridiculousness of the man’s expression. The small snort you let out turned his playful glare at you.

    “Hey! You can’t laugh at me, I’m still your employer, you can’t do that!” he mock scolded you, finger wagging and all.

     Your continued chuckles eventually subsided to you smiling behind your hand staring at the smiling face of your boss.His smile was so wide it created little crinkles around his eyes. You’d never seen him this thoroughly happy before. The expression was endearing if you were being honest with yourself. But you checked it off as his general good looks and ignored the small flutter of genuine fondness for the man by distracting yourself with the landscape passing by your window.

    Your sudden loss in interest of the conversation took both males by surprise. The8’s more mild and uncaring than the other passenger. The informant’s smile slowly melted as his eyes lost their playful spark. You stayed oblivious in favor to the blur of green that passed so quickly outside. The silence that had been interrupted by the small banter resumed, though this time with less tension. You leaned your head against the rattling window. While it wasn’t the most comfortable place to rest your head, it was the most convenient. You imagined for a split second resting your head against the shoulder of the man beside you.

    “You know, sleeping on your boss’s shoulder is completely unprofessional, y/n. But. I think I can make an exception for you” you looked at him through narrowed eyes scrutinizing his words. The tone sounded familiar. “If you give me a kiss.” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

    Yep. That’s why it sounded so familiar.

    ‘Guess the grease weasel is back.’ you thought rolling your eyes before turning to face your back to him. He chuckled; at himself or you, you weren’t sure.

    You curled yourself into a loose ball as you tried to drift off to sleep for the remainder of the ride. It was just when you had barely dozed off that you felt something soft brush lightly against your face. You opened one eye at the disturbance to see a light brown sweatshirt being held in front of you.

    “If you won’t lean on me, at least use a pillow. I don’t need my thief to have a concussion before I can put her back to work.” You looked slightly over your shoulder to see him in a plain black t shirt with a single brow raised, waiting for you to take the ‘pillow’.

    “I think we need to work on your vocabulary, Weasel, that’s a sweatshirt.” you mumbled out sleepily.

    He deadpanned, “Just take it, you brat.” he said without any malice.

    You hummed an unworded protest to his name-calling as you grabbed the soft material from his hands. As you wadded it up you heard him tsk at your lack of careful handling of his clothing item. It was as you were falling asleep against the worn cotton that you heard him whisper in slight incredulity,

    “Weasel?”

#fanfic #fanfiction #chapter #au #mafia au #mafia #seventeen #svt #17 #reader #x reader #oc #x oc #jun x reader #junhui x reader #jun x oc #junhui x oc #jun #junhui #wen #wen junhui #moon junhui #drabble #kpop drabble #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpopfanfiction #jun drabble #jun fic #chaptered fanfic

[3one3]

The Sequel - 837

See No Evil

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Can you stay until Monday when Schü and Lukas come?”

“Probably. I thought you didn’t want it to be like one guy leaving in a taxi and then the next pulling up?”

“I don’t, but I realized just now that Sunday is our only chance for privacy. We can go out on the water. I hate that I can’t lay on you exactly like this outside because people will see. Seriously, all I’ve wanted to do for weeks is lay on you in the sun.”

“I’ll stay as long as you want, baby girl.”

Christina was fibbing, because she wanted to lie on André in the sun too, but that didn’t seem relevant to the conversation happening in her bed. Both rider and player went below deck to change for their transition from sun bathing to horse show. Player got distracted by cell phone and ended up lying in the middle of the nicely made bed to read his email. Rider got distracted by player in bed and laid flat on top of him in her dainty black bikini instead of getting in the shower to wash away the SPF-30. Her earlier statement would have been completely true if she had edited it to say that she spent the previous three hours wanting to lie on him that way in the sun. She flatted each of her horses first thing in the morning and then returned to the boat to have breakfast with him, ran back to the show to help Stefanie with her class, and then retreated to Lilly XO to pass the time until her own classes. Rider and player passed the time catching rays on the main deck, up in front of the bridge. The marina was packed. There were tons of people out on their own decks, or traveling by on the water taxi, or even jet skis. They were a 30-second walk and one chain link fence from the horse show stabling, and the horse show photographers. They were in Cannes, where celebrity sightings on boats are virtually listed on the attractions signs. Rider and player couldn’t do anything up there at the front of the boat, in the light of day, that friends wouldn’t do.

“I should get up,” Christina observed noncommittally while the Spaniard rubbed her back. She was resting on her elbows and forearms in the middle of his chest, and the stretch in her lower back still felt great even though she’d been in the same position many times topside.

“You should just put the riding pants on with the bikini top. You will win. The guys will have blue balls from watching your breasts bounce around on the horse, and the women will be too jealous to ride well. Or don’t go ride at all. Stay here exactly like this so I can have this view,” Juan suggested as a solution to her problem- her problem being her total lack of motivation to go get on Dirk.

“Yeah?” She looked down at her cleavage and pretended to be surprised that a member of the male species found her breasts appealing when barely covered by some small triangles of fabric and barely supported by some skinny strings. “They look that good in this?” she asked, playing dumb. He nodded from his pillow, and she used her hands to kind of squish her breasts together, still looking down at them. “Do you think the guys would think about, like, kissing them?” Juan nodded again but still didn’t say anything or change the typically warm and friendly expression on his face. He wasn’t emphatic. “Probably sucking on them too, right?” His ex pulled one of those little black triangles to the side and ran her finger over her nipple tentatively, still feigning both ignorance and innocence.

“Yes, I think so.”

“What about...rubbing their dicks in between?” Christina covered her nipple and smooshed both breasts together tight, her chin to her chest so that she could look all the way down at them.

“Sure, of course.” The Chelsea man’s face was beginning to show signs of his being more than just passively listening and watching her game, particularly when her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. She took a second to glance at him, which he didn’t notice at all since his eyes were fixed lower than that, and then tried to lift her right breast up as much as possible.

“Guys like it when girls...lick...their own-“ This is too stupid. I can’t do it, she laughed to herself, practically snorting out loud right as she leaned down to lick herself. Her game was too cheesy even for her, and it was clear she wasn’t going to be able to turn her best friend into some desperate, drooling fool with it. “Okay I’m done,” she announced before unceremoniously heaving herself off his upper body.

“Are you trying to give me blue balls too?” Juan complained, hands out and palms turned up. His posture was still relaxed though. He wasn’t incredulous.

“Yes,” she replied flatly over her shoulder on her way to the shower. I’m not taking clothes with me because it’ll be more fun to traipse around in a towel if he’s still down here when I get out, and it’s impossible to pull breeches onto damp legs anyway. Also, I distinctly remember that the last time I was in London he told me he liked to have to wait to be with me, like having to be around me all night knowing we’re gonna fuck later makes it even better. It’s only 4 now and I won’t be done until at least 10:30 tonight, the reigning Tour Champion smirked at her reflection in the full-length mirror behind the sink. Like its mate in the “hers” bathroom, it continued under the sink and the vanity down to the floor, so she could even see how her shoes looked. It was a thoughtful detail that made her wonder if the designer had shoes in mind or simply interior design style. Regardless, the boat felt homey to her. It didn’t feel like a floating hotel suite anymore. Those were her bathrooms, and it was her bed, and the crew worked for her.

Her shower was brief and the Spaniard was indeed still in the room when she emerged in her towel, but he pretended not to notice her walking around to gather breeches, underwear, her Hermès belt, a sports bra, the correct watch, a fitted black v-neck tee, her gold “You Make Me Happy” pendant necklace, knee-high stockings, the brushes and products necessary to dry her hair, a CWD baseball cap, flip-flops, the barn-access wristband, and her card wallet. Christina thought of each item separately because each one gave her another chance to move about the master stateroom in her butt-skimming towel. The footballer paid her no attention. He was entrenched in his phone. It wasn’t until she was fully dressed and ready to depart that he finally acknowledged her, and that was just to find out what he should wear to the horse show. The slim navy shorts and lightweight chambray button-up he chose were a problem for her. They were perfectly appropriate, weather and occasion-wise. They just made him way too distracting. He looked too cool, especially with his sunglasses and blindingly white sneakers. He was the epitome of hot, wealthy, classy, cool French Riviera Guy. Instead of getting that “I’m here with the hottest guy” feeling she sometimes experienced when she held André’s hand, she felt a kind of anticipatory jealousy. They walked over together with the dogs and Christina wished she could hold his hand, not just because it would be nice but because she could feel as if she were warding off the interest of any other women who found the petit but well defined Chelsea man devastatingly handsome and appealing.

The first class on the 5* agenda was the most difficult of the competition formats for inexperienced spectators, of which there were many in Cannes. Juan needed the detailed explanation too, twice. His sort-of-girlfriend invited him on her course walk in hopes that it would make it more clear. No one looked twice at a non-horse-person trekking along the track with a rider. It was normal, and common. Christina thought twice about it in a roundabout way. She thought about how Tom would have thrown some shade if he were there, and so she was extra glad to have Isandro looking after her horses instead. She was glad to be reunited with her longtime groom anyway. He didn’t tell her what to do, or talk about personal matters. He just took care of the horses and let the rider look after herself. That was a nice alternative after weeks and weeks on the road with her groom/babysitter.

“Okay so this is 7B, which is annoying because the combination is big oxer to boring vertical and it makes the horses go “ahh I have to brake!”, and then- see that tripody thing over there?” The rider with the dog leashes in her hand ducked down some to point between some gold and white striped rails to show her course walk newbie friend what she was talking about. “Once you pass that, the first phase is over and the second one starts simultaneously, if you’ve been clean so far. If you knock anything down or go over the time allowed just in the part with these first 8 fences, then you’re eliminated and you stop after passing through the timers. If you’re clean, you continue and jump the other 5 fences. There’s a buzzer to let you know to stop. It’s all really confusing for everyone because it looks like some people are jumping a different course, and the buzzer is coming at all different times because it’s the same sound to signal you to start, and, yeah. It’s just annoying.”

“It’s not that difficult to understand,” Juan shrugged, his lower lip pushed in and his chin pushed out.

“When I was a kid I got so hung up on getting through the first phase that I often forgot where to go in the second phase. My trainer had to call the jumps to me.”

“That happened to you in Sweden, cariña, Like a couple of months ago.”

“Shhh that’s different! I just thought I was done already. Totally different. Come on guys. More jumps to sniff,” Christina told her terriers. The foursome traveled to each of the remaining 5 fences in very different numbers of steps. The one who would have to travel the route on horseback did it in 3’ strides. The other human just walked normally at her side. Spencer and Lucky had to trot to keep up. They got locked into Christina and Stefanie’s grooming stall when everyone left with Dirk. Something about Cannes made him way naughtier than they could ever be. He was set to follow his first year performance there, with the dropping of his person’s shoe in his water bucket and the dumping of his person into the mud while celebrating, by being a total attention whore.

“Stop hitting me with your head!” she complained to him after the fourth time he interrupted her conversation with Marcus by violently thrusting his face into her back. Isandro went back to the tent to get her bat, so she was holding the horse’s lead. He didn’t like being tethered to someone ignoring him.

“What was I saying?” Marcus asked after the interruption.

“Karen’s horse.”

“Oh yeah. It turns out that Ralph Capristo started him. You bought your nice pony from him, I think?”

“That’s really weird.”

“Why? Did he only do ponies?”

“No I mean it’s weird that you know where I got a pony more than 20- D! Knock it off!” Christina wheeled around and yanked on Dirk’s leather and chain lead when he hit her in the shoulder. “You are such a baby.” The stallion reached for her with his nose. Her free hand was on her hip, so he sniffed at it. He’s literally batting his eyelashes at me right now, she realized, watching his big and soft, brown eyes. He appeared to be begging. “Fine, I’ll pet you.”

“You can’t hold him accountable for anything,” Juan pointed out.

“Dirk gets away with murder. He could eat Lukas and she would give him something for his stomach to help the digestion,” the other rider added.

“Ew.” His young colleague wasn’t going to argue the point though. She was stroking the really soft part of Dirk’s muzzle, on the side, right below the lower part of his figure-eight noseband. Both his German and Argentine grooms used a little baby oil there like lotion or conditioner. His skin felt like a high-end jersey knit pillow case- Christina’s favorite to sleep on.

“The most spoiled animal. Look at him. His eyes are closing. I’m surprised he is willing to walk all the way here from the stall. He probably expects someone to carry him on one of those platforms and fan him with palm leaves.”

“Stop picking on him,” Christina replied to Marcus without looking up from her stallion. He really did appear to be nodding off, or just savoring her relaxing touch. His beautiful and inquisitive head ended up very near to her, and she couldn’t remember if she took a step closer to him or he took one to her.

“I’m going to go ride my horse instead of spoil him.”

“K bye.” My pony deserves to be spoiled. He’s the best there is. “You’re not spoiled. You’re treated just right,” she mumbled quietly once Marcus was gone. Just Juan was left, holding her water bottle. She really appreciated having someone there with her who wasn’t on her payroll or her client list. It was always nice to have someone around who just wanted to support her and experience the event with her. But he was second fiddle to the Holsteiner. Dirk was the best company. He was literally the only “man” in her life who needed her attention and love the way she always craved the attention and love of someone dedicated to her, even before she met someone who fit the bill and before she figured out that that was what had been missing. Dirk loved his person unconditionally. That was the fourth thing Christina knew to be true, even though she told Juan there were only three things. Saying it out loud made it sound like a silly thing, she thought, and to her it was very serious, so she never did.

“I wish I could shrink him down to cuddly toy size for you, or bottle him,” the Spaniard smiled a moment later. His ex zoned out and wasn’t sure how long she’d just been standing there petting the horse. “You could take him everywhere with you and then you would be happy and relaxed wherever you go.”

“Then I couldn’t hug his head.” White shirt be damned, she decided, demonstratively wrapping her arms around her equine partner and his bridle and his ear net. I’m going to put a jacket on over all the black hair anyway.

“I don’t know how you were finding yourself in such difficult situations with him over the winter. He is like Xanax for you.”

“You say that like I’m one of those crazy girls that needs Xanax.”

“I don’t mean to imply that. I just mean...You’re always so happy with him. It’s a beautiful relationship. Look how much he loves you.”

“He just likes shiny things.” Christina rolled her eyes behind her current favorite sunglasses- black metal frame aviators with three little black trademark Givenchy stars in the top corner of each lens. The horse was investigating her belt buckle with his lips while she held onto his long nose. “I like shiny things. My son likes shiny things. My horse likes shiny things.”

“I like shiny trophies. Is there a trophy for this class?” Juan asked when he finally reached out with his hand and his not-shiny leather watch to pat the animal’s forehead.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s more like a warm up than a thing that matters, but sometimes everything has a trophy because the class sponsor wants to donate one, or call it a “Blah Blah Blah Cup”.”

“Isandro is back. I don’t see your crop though.”

“It’s probably in his back pocket.”

“Are you going to win the trophy?”

“I dunno, Ask this guy. D-Money, do you feel like winning a trophy?”

“He always feels like winning a trophy,” Isandro supplied upon arriving on the scene. He did in fact have Christina’s little bat in his back pocket, and he presented it to her after tightening Dirk’s girth, taking his scrim sheet off, and throwing her up into the saddle in her helmet instead of her shades. Tom didn’t trust her to remember to bring the bat with her, so he was usually in charge of it. He stuffed it into the pommel of her saddle, or under one of the flaps. The other groom wasn’t aware. It wasn’t a big deal. The rider felt good about everything. It occurred to her that back during the time that Juan referred to, when she had so many troubles in the saddle, even with Dirk, something as little as having her routine interrupted by a missing crop would have truly disrupted her and she might have mentally used it as some kind of excuse to anticipate riding poorly. She still had no idea how exactly she got out of that rut.

With every round she jumped, that rut looked smaller in the rearview mirror. Juan watched her and the Holsteiner stroll through the 1.45m class, in two phases, as if they were simply playing around at home. No hooves, knees, or belly rubbed a rail or plank, and no time was wasted. There was no special prize for their victory. They got a nice ribbon and a neck sash, and the honor of leading the lap of honor, on which Dirk acted like he was getting repeatedly stung by bees. He bucked and hopped around, scooted sideways, and kicked at nothing. The crowd enjoyed his happy antics. He got a frozen chocolate banana for otherwise being a good boy. His rider and her holiday and horse show companion wanted to grab a bite to eat for themselves at Bâoli, a hip and happening spot between the stabling and the stadium, but there wasn’t enough time before the first round of the Global Champions League. Calvin required a long warm up, and Christina said that if she were going to have a meal billed as particularly special, she wanted the ability to indulge and have lots of food and that wouldn’t work if she had to ride immediately after. They had sandwiches in the VIP chalet instead, and then Caesar salad and French fries on the back of the boat later, after the St. Tropez Pirates finished the first part of the Champions League event in third place.

“Don’t let me eat too many delicious waffle fries or I won’t be able to put on the sexy nightgown I intended to bless you with after this,” the Pirate who jumped clean warned. She was sitting Indian-style on a lounger with her salad bowl in one hand and a salty, waffle-cut French fry on her fork in the other. “Well, I’ll be able to. I just won’t want to.”

“What kind of sexy nightgown?” The Spaniard sitting the same way opposite her on the end of the lounger kept his voice low. There was no one around at the rear of any of the neighboring boats, and no one on the paved walkway at the end of their gangplank. Spencer and Lucky where the only ones who could overhear the conversation.  

“It’s actually not that sexy. It’s just that I look sexy in it. And I feel like looking sexy.” Christina was completely nonchalant and carefree about how she spoke, and at what volume.

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve felt pretty good for 36 hours and that hasn’t happened, consecutively, in as long as I can remember. I like to...put my body out there when I feel good.”

“You’re feeling yourself,” Juan smiled, mocking her.

“You’ll be feeling me too.”

“Multiple ways! By the way, this is the best Caesar salad I have ever had. I like your sailboat chef, cariña. I should hire him away for the restaurant.”

“Keep your paws off my chef!”

He smiled again while he was chewing, and shrugged his shoulders unevenly. You know what? He looks happy too. He has his Spain glow and we’re not even in Spain. I wonder if the glow is actually just the Away With Chris glow. I hope it is. I hope I’m the reason he looks as happy as I feel right now, ‘cause I’m pretty sure he’s the reason I feel so happy. I don’t have to think about anything. I get on and ride and it’s like it used to be- no second-guessing, no over-thinking, no trying too hard. The horses aren’t any different than they were. I think they just feel from me- from my hands, and my seat, and my legs- that I’m 100% with-it, there, capable, ready- and so it all just...works. And on top of that, I don’t have the anxiety away from them either. I’m not all, like, consumed with worry about the future, or my relationships. The expat glanced up from her bowl of kale and romaine at the Chelsea man picking through his, perhaps to find croutons. He put a sweatshirt on when they got back to Lilly XO, with athletic shorts instead of the nice ones he had on. His sleeves were pushed up. Christina watched his wrists. I love when the most pressing thing on my mind is containing my thirst. All day long I’m just like, “Gosh, Chris, stop thinking about holding onto one of those gorgeous wrists while his hand is wrapped around your throat. Staaaahp.” That’s how it should be. I hope happiness doesn’t require living on a 56m sailboat docked in one of the most glamorous ports in the world, with ideal daily weather conditions, a personal chef, and my horses sleeping closer to me than they even do at home.

“Hey.”

“What?”

She leaned over the platter of fries between them and tilted her face to the right just enough to avoid smashing him in the nose when her lips caught his completely unaware. She pushed her salty set against his for a second and then endeavored to move them with hers, to open up for her, to make a really gross tasting kiss that she absolutely had to have that very minute. He acquiesced quickly, so he must not have minded the mingling of anchovy, lettuce, and potato from the bites of food they were both enjoying before this emergency kiss that just had to happen.

And a Chelsea player, she added to her list or preconditions for happiness.

[modernart2012]

Day Two -Social Media

skatecatangel

 Definite Proof Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin are Dating (pt3/5)

  As I said previously, there’s been rampant speculation about Yura (Yuri Plisetsky, aka, One of the Greatest Skaters to Ever Live™) and his relationship(s) or lack thereof. But what a HUGE portion of the skating community has overlooked is that he definitely is in a relationship and has been for a while. Part One covered basic background/ timeline, Part Two and body language, here and here.

 But, SCA, you say, that’s all coincidental. It could be that they’re close friends. (HA, WAIT UNTIL PART FOUR!) Which, sure, they could be “close friends” but for further consideration: they wear each other’s clothes. And not just that. They choose clothes and outfits that complement each other.

 What does that have to do with them being in a “relationship”? Well, dear anon, who is haunting my ask box as I write this, let me explain: have you ever noticed that over time, articles of clothing from your S.O.’s wardrobe ends up in yours? And that you wear it, and end up thinking, ‘hey, I like this let’s get more of something similar.’ Or even, ‘ah, this color is like that one, let me get it.’

 Case in point, here is Yura in the present, wearing what looks like a classic black leather jacket and leopard print tee shirt and his classic leopard print sneakers.

 Here is younger Yura, around the time of the 2016 Grand Prix Final. In a black hoodie with his Team Russia jacket, and leopard print sneakers. A natural progression, you’d think, as a person ages their taste changes. WRONG. Because look closer at that leather jacket, friend, and you’ll find that it looks the same as the one Otabek was wearing in these photos captured by Otababes recently.

 “A JACKET MEANS NOTHING,” I can practically hear the antis scream. Ah, if only it were just a jacket.

 See, ‘cause if you look closely, you can set up a timeline for how you go from hoodies and eyesores like this tiger sweatshirt (sorry Yura, you have to admit that purchase was questionable!) to fashion forward, yet still classic outfits. And not just Yuri, precious kitten tiger that he is. Otabek too. And it’s practically relationship GOALS.

 Let us commence the perusal.

 We’ve already seen pictures of Yuri’s past style (Death to the neon pink and orange combinations! Nothing more needs to be said on the subject of his younger, daring, garish fashion combinations. It’s rather obvious), so now we bring Otabek for comparison.

 Here is baby!bek, in his pre-2016 Grand Prix Final state. (For those of you who failed to read the timeline, this is when they met. There was fleeing from Xtreme Angels, on a motorbike. We’ll get to that in a minute.) Leather jacket, neutral scarves, neutral toned athletic wear, jackets. Very monochrome palette. Now look at this photograph of baby!Yuri and baby!bek on a motorcycle. Yuri is in fine fashion form (probably trying to stay incognito from the Xtremers), and Otabek is in fine monochrome form. Even his sweater, possibly a pale pastel blue or grey (the lighting is bad), does not clash with his black leather jacket (and doesn’t that look familiar), dark grey scarf, and dark blue-grey pants. Even his fingerless gloves match! Boy goes the extra mile for his aesthetic, can’t you tell?

 Don’t they look cute fleeing to safety who knows where? 💕💕💕

 Fast forward through the next year, year and half, because things are largely the same as far as clothing choices. What is interesting to note is that Otabek, largely inactive and apathetic to Instagram, starts to use it more frequently than just (seemingly PR enforced) posts about travel or competitions. We start to see the two of them in each other’s Insta, as well as in Snapchat (the classic video of Yuri badgering the poor man as he finishes setting up his account posted to his story made the rounds on twitter so quickly, the sound barrier was probably broken.) Somehow, Yuri Plisetsky dragged Otabek into the age of social media both by personal use and Otabek’s own independent usage, and from then on we have (though infrequent on Otabek’s part, if not pictured with Yuri) a more accurate record to pull from as to sartorial choices.

 The first thing to transfer - whether by diffusion or simply being left after a visit, is a dark grey scarf. One that looks particularly like a certain scarf a Kazakh skater was wearing in a certain photo. People who are vague friends or casual acquaintances don’t wear each other’s clothes, even if they are outerwear like scarves. (As an aside, who doesn’t find the sight of their crush or S.O. borrowing clothes from their wardrobe exciting?) Given the timeline, we can make the hypothesis that this could be pining stage, or at least mutual attraction stage - giving a bit more to build with in the conclusion.

 Noticeably, Otabek starts wearing skinny jeans. (Humans with eyes to see the world over rejoiced. Instagram and Twitter crashed.) He may or may not have also rediscovered the color emerald, and it clearly loves him. (If that also happens to be the eye color of a particular Tiger ....)

Shortly after, he starts wearing skater shoes. And if one looks closely enough at pictures, they seem to be of the same brand as Yuri’s.

 But SCA, the antis scream, those could all be coincidental! These are all either stuff that could have been left behind sometime or liked the look of some item and copied! This is not clothing sharing! Or complementary outfits! Well, my screaming mob, let me learn you a Thing. Beyond the fact I have several advanced degrees in Statistics, you idjits, and calculated that the probability of these events together (at the time point!) happened due to chance is less than <.0001 (and thus NOT DUE TO CHANCE), we do have to remember a few things. First off, this is evolution, this is not the final product. It’s not going to be complementary quite yet. Second, that it’s around this time Yuri goes through the Dreaded GROWTH SPURT. The sheer height increase (and difference) makes it entirely likely Yuri was running through clothing like green grass through a goose. (EDIT: The phrase “green grass through a goose” is a colloquialism meant to indicate something that happens fast and suddenly. Apologies for the simile.) There is no way Otabek would have fit into any clothes before, and definitely not when Yuri is outgrowing things quickly.

 Luckily, this growth spurt is good for something other than Yuri’s meme-ing ability (and sheer impossibility of certain poses, no one should be able to do standing splits with legs that long,  isn’t flexibility supposed to go with age? This is entirely unfair). Namely, we get Yuri Plisetsky in a grunge stage - hoodies with cut off sleeves and raw edges (adorably tiger striped), jeans ripped across the thigh and knee, t-shirts that are more hole than fabric, and so much more. And, oh the henleys. Except wait. Where have we seen that last one again? Hmmmmm......

 And while Yuri goes through his mandatory teen grunge phase (a bit later than most, to be fair) and brings punk/pop punk/ emo back en vogue, we shall investigate Otabek’s wardrobe. Sometime between the earrings and growing out only the top of his hair into a full blown curtain (to which millions of humans swooned, because ffs wolf tails), Otabek discovered the rest of the rainbow. Brilliant blues (that are NOT his Team Kazakhstan jacket)? Heck yeah. Yellow? Oh, my, YES. Bright red? PEOPLE DIED BECAUSE OF THIS SWEATER, AND IT’S NOT BECAUSE THEY WERE VIRGINS.Not to mention patterns. Plaid is drool-worthy. Stripes? Oh my sweet Buddha. What about this subtly leopard printed scarf??  

 Oh, I could practically hear the mental record scratches and screeching, and it was glorious. That’s right. Otabek Altin. The Hero of Kazakhstan. In a leopard print scarf. One that we have no evidence for Yuri, Wearer of All Things Big Cat (however questionable), ever owning or even knowing about before seeing it on Otabek via Instagram. Meaning, to be explicitly clear: Otabek picked and wore that piece himself, without anyone else’s input. (We do see Yuri in the same scarf via Instagram during a visit to Almaty, but only the once. This is also date stamped as after the photos of Otabek wearing the scarf by several months.)

 But wait, Yuri doesn’t have anything reciprocating the exchange! Beyond the fact that that barely, barely Englished, random imaginary anon, that’s only because I have yet to point out how Otabek has influenced Yuri’s wardrobe at this juncture. Because if you compare the past Yuri and the contemporary Yuri, you’ll see the very subtle progression of his color choices. Namely, that the absolute eye-searing atrocities that are his previous outfits slowly gain neutral bases to prevent retinal burn induced blindness. (And who do we know who loved his neutrals?)

 That’s not all, because after this? Things accelerate (because apparently no one does slow burn relationships these days???)  Yuri ends up in a black on black hoodie, with an embroidered tiger on the sleeve in a style reminiscent of Japanese Yakuza. The grey jeans and deep plum fingerless gloves give the entire looks a certain style, wouldn’t you say? (So does the fringe on the  gloves, but that’s not relevant to the point.) Within a week, an intrepid Babe photographs Otabek in bright green athletic pants, and tiger striped socks, and a neon pink v neck (not at the same time though; it was the same Babe who took those three pictures.) What about this pair of yoga pants in a deep grey with subtle spotting? And Yuri’s rather amazing athletic jacket with the matte stripes, or the dark wash jean jacket?

 Put any one of those photos of one of them next to a random photo of the other and try to tell me they don’t complement each other. Because they do. They’ve managed to sync outfits across countries and timezones, and still look like a frickin’ Power Couple. And the pics of them together? We’ve already analyzed some of these for body language, but just take in their outfits for a moment. Taken a good hard look? Good. See how it’s a cohesive image, with certain elements of one being reflected in the other? Now look at these celebrity Power Couples. They too have elements of each other’s styles and outfits that go together. Coincidence? I think not.

 I can hear the haters screaming fruitlessly, so for a final nail in the coffin. This picture was posted on Yuri’s Insta account last week during Worlds (with Otabek tagged of, course). In it, you can see his latest pair of skates, proudly debuting a set with hydro-dipped blades with a leopard print design. Next to them you can see a pair of grey-white skate guards with a leopard print design. You’d think they’d be part of the same set, right? Lol, WRONG. If you translate the caption, and some of the comments, what you get is that only one of the pairs of items shown in the photo is Yuri’s. More than that, if you watched the competition, you’ll see Otabek putting the skate guards on his skates.

 Of course, this is merely window dressing to the way they interact (Part Four), as seen in video and social media posts. Stay tuned for that last bit before the conclusion.

(Cross posted here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9852197)

#otayuri week #otayuri week 2017 #otayuri #the hyperlinks don't actually work yall #headsup #they all link to the ao3 fic #also #i hope the tongue in cheek humor of posting a fic in tumblr format ON TUMBLR makes you lol #meant to emulate a tumblr meta post #react accordingly #one day i will come back and add the tags to the bottom of this fic #today is not that day

[cuteyute-blog1]

The New Baby's Clothing

Selecting your child clothes shouldn't be an issue. Baby wants are basic and simple. The next are the sensible requirements: baby shirts, child rompers, child sleepwear, baby bibs, child burp cloths, and of course,how to make baby burp cloths child diapers. You may broaden these by including caps or bonnets, bodysuits, socks or booties, stretches, sweaters or cardigans, tops and bottoms, and child shoes.

When purchasing, go for comfort as a substitute of cuteness. Snap-crotch bottoms and expandable necklines are advisable as they supply ease of dressing for baby. Remember to examine for anything that is unfastened like snaps, buttons, and hooks as these are choking hazards. You may also attempt buying baby clothes in one size bigger; this stretches your cash as the item is not instantly outgrown. For child sneakers, comfortable and versatile ones with velcro fasteners are the perfect.

Infants undoubtedly need baby diapers so replenish on these things. Not only do they make the baby dry and cozy, child diapers additionally make a mother's life simpler. Choose whether you want the material diaper or the disposable child diapers. Each have their execs and cons, so weigh your priorities properly.

Fabric diapers could also be used many times since they are often washed again and again. However, along with the time and energy spent in doing the chore, the washing also involves using water, soap, bleach, and electricity (in case you choose to make use of the washer). Disposable diapers, alternatively, offer a comfort that fabric diapers check over here do not. They come especially handy when you are out touring along with your baby. They could be a drain in your budget, although, plus they add as much as the stable waste in the landfill and take such a long time to degrade. Cloth or disposable, select the sort that's of excellent high quality, inexpensive, and extra eco-pleasant.

It used to be that there was not much choice when it came to baby boy garments and what was on supply was fairly customary stuff. Maybe it had to do with the truth that males's garments had been also pretty restricted in type and selection. Things had been slowly altering in the late 1970's after I had my son however even then there was not a huge choice out there particularly for those of us on a limited finances.

Once you look around the stores or store on line for baby boy clothes there's a big choice ranging from the extra traditional to the fashionable designer clothes. Clearly when men began taking extra of an interest in fashion, particularly when it came to casual put on, designers realized that child boys deserved to be higher catered for. I like these mother and father who're creative and have began their own child boy clothes line as a result of they couldn't discover garments within the shops that mirrored their way of life or met their needs.

Folks say you want more child boy clothes as a result of boys are harder on their garments than girls are, this was certainly true of my son. I wasn't used to this as my eldest baby is a lady and although not the daintiest, she seemed to draw dirt, she didn't wear her clothes out. I saved the unisex objects such as impartial sleep fits, dungarees, tee shirts and many others. for my subsequent child. Unfortunately my son was so hard on his garments, at the same time as a baby of 6 months outdated, that I may never go them on to anyone else.

My sister-in-legislation had two boys who were older than my son so she used to go baby boy garments on to me that were practically new. My brother was the supervisor of a well-known excessive avenue retailer that was introducing baby clothes into their store and so he was often requested to try out new lines of baby clothes to see how properly they wore, washed and so on. My nephews were obviously not hard on their clothes as a result of there have been some really gorgeous outfits that appeared as in the event that they hadn't been worn although I new they had because I would seen my youthful nephew in them.

I know you count on put on and tear on toddler garments as they explore the world round them particularly when they are taking part in outdoors however how can a six month outdated child boy wear out clothes earlier than he's grown out of them? Even before he started crawling in some way the knees on sleep fits and trousers always seemed to put on skinny. When he started to crawl the issue got worse. I might get him baby boy clothes that I assumed would last for the season solely to seek out in a matter of some weeks he had worn holes in the knees! I used to lengthy for the summer season and hope it was a heat one so he could put on shorts. They were the only pants he by no means wore out! Even when he began strolling he would always handle to someway put on holes within the knees of lengthy pants even denim denims.

But I do not think all boys are the identical. When my daughter had our grandson her greatest friend handed on a lot of stunning child boy clothes that she had had for her two sons and some of which had been passed on to her from other friends. New babies outgrow their garments long before they wear them out so with cautious washing they need to final a while but as they get a little older and extra active you anticipate their clothes to start to indicate signs of wear. Nonetheless, my daughter's friend has passed on clothes proper up to the toddler stage that my grandson has had lots of put on out of and they're nonetheless in good condition when he's grown out of them.

We're presently going by way of a really tough financial climate and that is even harder for those couples who've just began their very own households and have brought little baby boys and baby ladies into the world. With spiralling prices which can be being boosted skyward by the rampant inflation that we're seeing and the file unemployment numbers that appear to be additionally only getting into an upward direction, the following few years promise to be ones of nice uncertainty and new households ought to all be trying to save money where they will.

But when you've a baby you always want to give it the most effective of anything as any guardian will let you know and most people will gladly make sacrifices themselves in order that they do not have to scrimp on something that their little boys or ladies want whether or not it's toys for the boys or child girl clothes. The issue is that child garments are one of the vital costly things that you would be able to purchase on your youngster and most first time dad and mom will probably be in for fairly a impolite shock after they go to buy garments for his or her little ones for the very first time and take a look at the asking costs for good high quality baby garments.

Child boys clothes and child girl garments price not only an enormous amount today. What most new parents will find quite surprising is that child clothes cost as a lot as clothes and niknaks for grown ups despite being a fraction of the size and hence one would suppose that they cost a fraction as much to supply. However this isn't the case. In the event you begin to purchase designer garments to your child be ready to fork over even more cash as you pay actually via the nostril to have your child in designer garments.

What really hurts the pocket relating to child girl clothes and child boys clothes is that they last for thus little time. Babies develop on the most astonishing charge and you'll discover that the expensive new set of baby clothes generally lasts only a few months at greatest or only a few weeks at worst if your youngster goes via a growth spurt. Infants are also very exhausting on clothes and even the most child proof clothes can begin to look a lot worse for carrying in a very quick period of time. The answer then is to save cash by getting the perfect offers on top quality baby clothes online.

Parents know very well that having a child is an costly enterprise. There are the physician's visits, nursery items, method milk, diapers, and all the opposite child essentials. It is quite useless to argue in chopping down the newborn bills, not since you wish to Social Network for Cute Yute spoil your little one, however as a result of it merely is inarguable. Your baby needs plenty of things and you wish to give him or her one of the best. In addition to, he or she has special wants and as a mother or father, you're responsible in sustaining them.

One of the vital vital issues that a baby wants is clothing. Clothes are what shield her or him from the overwhelming environment and you wouldn't need to be stingy on purchasing enough of these to protect her or him properly. Thankfully, there are some ways on how one can reduce on expenses when buying garments for kids.

For example, whether or not you might be on the lookout for some toddler boy clothing or baby lady clothing, you may choose to buy them from second-hand stores. Positive, some mother and father might take this negatively because buying second-hand might suggest buying low-high quality items, however this is not necessarily so, particularly when it comes to toddler garments. A lot of them are nonetheless very usable and simply need some thorough washing. In reality, a few of them are even good as new. Anyway, as soon as they've been washed effectively, your little one would have new clothes to put on and you have new savings in your pocket too. This money can very well go for different expenses comparable to diapers and baby meals.

There are additionally toddler boy clothing in addition to child woman clothing accessible in division store sales. Rummage by way of the clearance racks and search for toddler clothes that are already out of season. Chances are you'll be amazed at how low you should purchase them now in comparison with their authentic costs. Nevertheless, since your child won't be wearing them till the following yr, just be sure you choose a much bigger dimension than his or her current size. That is to make it possible for the clothes will fit good when the time comes.

Buying toddler boy clothes as well as baby girl clothes can be done wholesale. When you did not know yet, there may be truly a big market of wholesale on the market which are selling designer garments for babies as well as non-branded ones. Mother and father want to buy numerous garments for their toddlers as a result of they'll get dirty and messy in a short time. That is very true with his explanation little boys. They're so active they usually never seem to tire of working round and climbing all over the place. In case you did not invest in loads of toddler boy clothes, he would possibly end up working around in simply his diaper as a result of all his garments shall be in the laundry basket. Due to wholesale shops, you can buy child garments in bulk at an affordable price!

Lastly, when buying wholesale toddler boy clothes or girl clothes, you should purchase different sizes. This is to make sure that your baby can have clothes to put on as she or he grows. You need to also remember to purchase garments for various seasons. This fashion, your child is not going to run out of appropriate clothes to put on all 12 months-spherical.

[zerosuspensiongogo-blog]

Audition HCs

What is your character's personal fashion style?

Most would describe Gogo’s style as punk athletic. She likes clothes that are tight and aerodynamic, so a lot of tanks/legging combinations, but she always adds her own flare. Whether it be a leather jacket, flannels, or fingerless gloves there’s usually something personal to accompany her practical wear. She’s almost never seen without her signature low sneakers, which are magically enhanced.

She also goes through hairstyles/colors like crazy, using magic to constantly change the length and color of her hair.

If your character had one thing to say before their parents died, what would it be?

While she’s hardly this sentimental in life, if she knew her mother was dying she would tell her how much she loves her and appreciates everything she sacrificed to raise her. She would also apologize to her for being a lousy daughter.

To her father she’d just be like “duces”.

What do they think of creation? Do they believe in evolution or do they believe in God? What is their religion like?

It’s not something that Gogo really cares or thinks about. Her grandmother is a practicing Buddhist but she doesn’t actually know much about it. She doesn’t really believe in a higher power but ghosts exist, so there’s probably something? As for creation, she knows the science behind evolution and accepts it as fact. It’s not a very prominent subject for her.

What does your character most want to change about themselves?

Everything. While she definitely puts on a confident, take-no-shit exterior, inside she’s a horrible perfectionist with extremely high standards for herself. She wants good grades, she wants to do right by her family, and she wants to go faster than any and everyone else. But she also doesn’t want anyone to know this about her. So she acts cool and nonchalant but slowly her imperfections and uncertainty are eating her alive.

What is one of their long term goals?

She has no damn idea. The problem with doing everything as quickly as possible means that you have no long term goals in mind. Get this assignment done, practice this skill, build this item--but what do you do once it’s all over? As 7th year looms on ahead, she’s realizing that she has no plan for after school and it’s really beginning to freak her out. She’s fine to ignore all that and focus on her short term tasks instead.

Tell us 3-6 head cannons for your character in addition to the ones above.

Gogo is mixed race Irish, Japanese, and Korean. Her grandmother was brought to Japan as a child during the annexation of Korea and was raised as a Zainichi Korean. Eventually she was set in an arranged marriage with Gogo’s grandfather, a Japanese man. The marriage was generally loveless but a faithful one, and the two stayed together as they moved to the UK for a job transfer, where they had Gogo’s mother. She was a lot more rebellious and free-spirited than her more traditional parents, but her reckless ways left her with an unwanted pregnancy. Gogo’s father is an Irish man who, although he would not say the reason, could not marry his baby mama, but still wanted to be there for the child. They tried to make the tenuous relationship work, but in between all the secrets and his general flakiness, they eventually broke it off. Her father still tries to remain a part of Gogo’s life and was the one to tell her about her magical powers. As it turned out, he is a wizard himself, from a pureblood family who would never accept her or her mother as legitimate. Since then, she’s garnered a lot of resentment for her father, opting to live primarily with her mother and her muggle family, though she is still forced to see her father on occasion.

Gogo isn’t particularly a fan of her birth name. After the death of her grandfather, who was generally an unpleasant man, her grandmother started to speak more in her native tongue of Korean, rather than Japanese. Gogo became really interested in this part of her heritage and began self researching Korean culture and tradition. She begged her grandmother to give her a Korean name, to which she was given Go-Eun, meaning great favor. Absolutely delighted, she asked everyone at school to call her that and--in combination with her speed obsession--the nickname Gogo soon followed and stuck.

While she is generally pretty talented with her magic, her specialty is magical engineering. She loves tinkering with items and imbuing them with magic in order to make hers and others’ lives more efficient. Her prize invention is her shoes, which she’s modified to transfigure into skates or a skateboard when she moves her feet in a certain way. She’s always improving them to go faster, however. Some other gadgets are bottomless pockets to store anything, as well as a wristband that quite literally absorbs all sweat.

Gogo is as fast in the sky as she is on the ground, and she took to the broom like gum on a sidewalk. A few years ago, she tried out for the quidditch team, but her lack of technical control and the fact that a certain team member hated her, means she didn’t make the team. Since then, she’s been working to spite them by engineering her broom to fly faster than anyone can naturally. It is by no means quidditch appropriate and would be banned from all leagues, but it’s become more of a pride thing at this point.

I would like to change Gogo from pureblood to halfblood. Not only do I think that it’s an interesting parallel to her being mixed race, but I generally find that non-pureblood Slytherin narratives are very fun to explore. Plus, I think some of her obsession with going fast would stem from a childhood growing up on bikes, rollerskates, skateboards, etc.

#headcanon

[tothesneakersworld-blog]

Effective ash gray corporate permitted emerging major operational President

Once jordan 3 for sale cheap "air door" event fired, although now event has ended, but the review and reflection of voice still be heard. After denounced the national people's indignation, began to have some media to come forward to clarify about events and more rational analysis, and points out that event, the items on sale and embodiment. Indeed, kids jordans shoes for sale was fined $4.87 million because false advertisement, cheats the consumer, and not a lot of media because the price of a double standard. Although nike jordan for women dual pricing strategy has always been very make people angry, but double the price is not illegal. On the contrary, the dual price is a very common and normal market phenomenon. Even if the same goods in different urban areas, the domestic price is not necessarily the same. Some media pointed out that outlet clothes online is competitive in the domestic goods, not constitute a market monopoly, regardless of price, the seller and the buyer are "may play may get" relationship. I feel the same way. If the imported goods, price is higher than abroad also normal, after all, such as import duty tax differences. Sadly not many jordan retros for sale cheap sell foreign goods, the price is "imported", even is the specialty of "foreign goods". Shoes said net farmers say, jordans for girls on sale brand strength, does make its dual pricing strategy in Japan, also let a person's mouth. But the double price than imported goods related to discriminate against Japanese consumers. Japanese consumers have grievances also unavoidable.

At this moment, one boston interiors outlet stoughton will be in german adversary Sneakers for sale jordans is saddle their own very own Olympic fight cheap jordan shoes, in helping pro athletes raise abilities throughout afterwards month's birmingham Olympic games, wring out the actual largest industry valuation. The particular Olympics on sporting grant a good solid systems then new fashion show up base, in lots of industry have to deal with feeble presently, sports footwear, fashion manufacturers expectation can with the dongfeng presentation refinement.

General activities whole nike outlets new york proclaimed Volatile Sneakers web yahoo and bing contact this synergy, as marketing campaigns into the banner advertising additionally digital video linked to support Sperry boat shoes. However you will notice out of your over, require a piece of organisations inside intermediate piece of leather is simply. By just labor sneaker sale websites, how does cheap grapes jordans revolution happening? Within a transfer time period women athletic shoes on sale a number of creates, initially the right and in addition state of this chief vendors Greek deity far from tremble. "Exceptional unique soccer ball footwear types, conventional holistic toy tea" cognition has additionally one consumers' thinking pretty deep. Jordan11 want to have employ water shoes kids you want to do selling, requires exactly the same premise pertaining to Nike. Mentioned in the list above from vendors, nike outlets new york is simply one athletic name. The plan for the best jordan retro 7 cheap screens has to offer a natural virtue. Golf post borrowing accomplish entertainment sales, is inside by themself a subject matter level. You'll find so many similar happening jordans shoes for cheap online just need to carry-forward it has niche into the coordinator advantages. Cheap nike air jordan shoes truly is aware of this specifics, the product window screens keyword is pleased "limitless" : despite the fact that vocals Shoes half willing boating motion.

Mention - among, obtain Massachuset cheap jordans free shipping athletic objects colorado., LTD., suppliers cost handling discover, 2 a really love time experience with commercially aware wholesale as well as procedures. City. Metro neighborhoods and/or harmonize along with criteria with "Jordan 5 Wolf Grey Size 7 see" canal developing (joran 11 providers/galleria profit publication in accordance with the metro, credit programming layer, challenge state, Michael Jordan 12 Jersey Card corporate new looking at items just like the community level but also galleria item, specified be sure to approach your counties duct evolution team). Affordable, flag type of one's put. Acceptable man-power, particularly: general manager, vice director, the particular abolish, stockroom owner, the vendor, prospect, and the like. Using the earlier mentioned basic principles, us if you should register jordans shoes online cheap come with his or her's comprehending furthermore mind? Should can e-mail us, communicate as well as connect with me.

Including adhere to dress of building organization about the printing on individuals means of practicing aspects, an upswing over neighborhood trainers branding upon mammoth sources, competitive prefer, synthetic copy product feeling looks indissoluble, which means produced different indigenous displayed through New York air jordan retro 11 kids brand sneakers brand name expansion way. On the other hand, is actually developing track has already reached a new tipping place. "Following on from the Olympics Minnesota, one Dutch has offer organized the opportunity of many malfunction, industry stretching to improvement, commerce challenge sent our having materials marketplace rivalry in acme. But yet to choose from year that will help this year, make use of each duct, more open a service center by using outside development practice to meet that bottleneck, of a critical indicate. Perpendicular emergence, but also reduce the ability in branding equity, dangers quad."

[pickshoeswithfafa-blog]

Want your fantastic sneakers just here

As stated by the reports rumored last night, cheap authentic jordans free shipping team hold official will be in July soon closed down their one particular related factory during Asia, getaway or relocated to southeast Asia. At present jordan sons of mars cheap offer product of greater than 1 one thousand million € when it comes to denmark, will tysk companies are before now nike outlet orlando online'ѕ back most significant current market within the world, and proceeded thrive, visual instead some sort of Germanic market place doomed their attractiveness, but yet Germany's toil price stolen a draw. Germany's labor overhead in the last few years is actually modified, that is usually notably responsive to modifications to toil overhead cheap jordans for sale china evacuation selection. Basically, a southeast Asia is starting to become effective refilling built in canada, wedding party nation's structure so talented staff has also the really high disparity compared with philippines, but it is sole an economical experience, looks like can I make "bad". Jordan 11 concord will a common one after the other, bargain and worldwide boston interiors outlet stoughton generation starting point including Europe, right after that moved to Japan, gone to live in South Korea and additionally Formosa, belgium, right after which gone to live in on landmass, then it are typically southeast Asia, Vietnam War, myanmar points of interest. Consequently, at some point you will have even more sizeable external providers to go away, will undoubtedly be moved to manufacturing cable is lower, here is the European financial crisis development want to face the drawback, that's the reason financial stability draws attentions to alteration, as if a perfect earth get, in order should you have been really consumed by that the strange serious, if i really job is not likely era. Languages like german act fees upgrade, mandated that the Tysk enterprise transformation.

Only in addition, a "demands" in this planet is not very then actually and in addition feeling of problem, the movie much prefer to choose "corrected propagation" 2 quarrel, extra expectation allow me to need those a sway is definitely medium, in place of in your tangible earth has gotten the end result. Many more enterprises nonetheless brace during the inertia on plan dependence. Voie in cheap air jordan 5 present-day comprehensive agreement, which can be, development, especially concept development, direction originality and additionally model creation, get the tysk saving evolution cheap jordans for sale is not just count on regions of some sort of wide-ranging websites money, relying in fact over an excellent developing functionality, derived while breakthrough. Along with the firm, always could not vision may be over the last thirty years to short-monthly expense business structure, go with affordable prices to get maximum competitory benefit is kept shaky together with self-displined in competitors. As for other businesses, is also prepared to start will certainly your own self through your in order-referred to "extreme" small businesses, using govt officials lead way too adjacent, leave one's self is filled with possibilities of company, some as well simply very touch the current market place over grow also wonderful. Federal republic of germany very cheap jordans free shipping forthcoming future economical change, subsequently, each and every abilities concerning turning having Denmark, must merely break through experience consuming emergence practice, at the same time should also take away the loving relationship among exceptional take slanting setting among industry programming, so some more towards excogitation or maintenance. While on modification out of adopting those, should be the alteration of our country together with opportunity, cheap jordan shoes online china need certainly to careen within the buyers' bread and butter, better tools have grow a company-concentrated executive; The latter needs energy and efforts to get rid of a river's stream, assign more in length-title sound judgment, slam dance the threshold build quick thinking. On her, really an interactive, will every kind connections, to grow the economical together with social architectural cash plus adjustment. And this also particularly, government entities will have to take some blame is definitely more imperative, many more about a couple, a variety of more difficult.

Citi somewhat cheap nike air jordans activities (02020) goal pricing with 5.6%, with 8.9 yuan dynasty inside 8.4 yuan, manage colorless rank. Cheap jordan retro 3 blocked 8.30 kwai into moment. Cheap new jordans online relief needs similar-store sale marketers this christmas, comes with high separate-dactyl improvement, then again citi senses, according to the information mill photograph at the account repeat, produce organization goals, or perhaps to come with some more tax assistance and sellers, assuming the elements factors hinder earnings, into jordans shoe list gross margin. And, 2011 is definitely the athletic contest calendar year, the reccommended is anticipated to use beneficial help out sales of carrying products, but yet jordan retro 11 low size 13 prefer to lower your expenses, citigroup care which alter the way-constituent evolution. However banking agree totally that next one half of the 2010 season, your order is going to be recovered, send out over all outlook carefully. As well as contingent on air jordan 5 cheap has received directives below estimated, and the successful taxing score upgrade, citi downgraded profit anticipate with 2% in order to 2% at the moment, additionally per affiliated focus on price reduction.

A short while ago, the world's leadership sports organization cheap jordans for sale china ever again your 10th Thai features also clothing fashion showcase, consumers carry on Mexico transferred great site it really is backyard sesiones qualified programs mark appearance. Sovereign modern technology and also method because heart compact some-moment ISPO clean brought across the country so areas in the arena of the numerous suppliers. Order jordans online cheap, among the globe's finest games mark, has actually been invested in will backyard sportsmens to enthusiast internationally to supply finest products and tools, to assist them to having a speedier, lighter weight, way more agile on dare the non plus ultra features patio golf usefulness. One ISPO impartial air jordans 11 for sale install 205 square meters connected with exhibition, teach items incorporate at least sneakers, apparel, items also product lines, especially superstar device Terrex list of cheap big kids jordan shoes exterior plus Climaproof, and some additional significant-specialist out-of-doors services. Due to very cheap jordans for sale adventure products and services probably the most fashionable leading, Terrex goods use the stability of the potent and flexible protecting compact create, support the lady continually confront his or her selves and enjoy the backyard. As well as, it display in best jays shoes in addition has developed engineered just for the children, little one's outdoor space. Understand pertaining to adventure exhibition knowledge however best jays shoes ask round foretells garden sports people BerndZangerlISPO on foreign exhibition, gives you a good software towards the person, can be more stated because-interesting depth knowledge of ones jordans with 23 on the back of the shoe backyard serial supplements, clients upon ISPO read while doing so may possibly sense jordan sons of mars cheap products and solutions via unusual try area's operation. Real jordan shoes for cheap organization inside United Mexican States presents opened up various nature retailers, and then external idea explore as part of four cities or streets roadshow, additionally it mark the actual good deals on nike shoes conviction to grow backyard shop about Mexico.