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skinks · 4 years

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I would just like to say Bongo Smugglers killed me. I’m sitting in class giggling thinking about a Losers movie night where they have a dramatic showing of the movie. Audra and Richie are less embarrassed then they should be. It becomes an annual tradition to play a bongo smugglers™️ drinking game at Christmas.

AHH this is amazing, I just shoved two words together that I thought were funny and suddenly it’s this whole ugly 2002 sex comedy fully formed in my head. Glad it killed you during class. And yeah, they’re definitely not embarrassed, everyone’s heckling the writing and the early 2000s fashion more than anything else anyway.

Richie happily provides commentary the whole way through even though he’s only in the sex scene, waving his tortilla chip in Eddie’s face because he’s got his arm around his shoulder, hugging him close into Richie’s side. Eddie keeps snapping bites at it so often that Richie just ends up hand feeding him chips.

“Aaaaaaand... that’s the first time I touched a boob, right there!“

“Glad to help,” Audra winks.

“The exact moment I realized I was totally lying to myself. I’m having an entire existential sexuality crisis right there on camera, but can you tell? Does my fratty façade crack an inch?”

“I could tell, because you spent fifteen minutes before the scene pacing around set and chanting you can do this, you can do this, don’t throw up, you like girls, but not too much, because you don’t get paid if you pop a boner, c’mon Richard, c’mon—”

“Like I said,” Richie shouts, over all his stupid friends laughing at him, “no one can tell, ‘cus I’m a pro—”

“You call yourself Richard during pep talks?” Stan’s grinning at him sharp-beaked, like a vulture. Has Richie seen him blink even once since he came back from the dead? Not sure, not sure, make note to ask Patty to spy.

Onscreen Audra is shimmying down her low-rise stone-wash boot-cut jeans, boots with the fur, the whole club was in fact lookin’ at her. What the fuck was anyone thinking back then? Richie privately blames the Bush administration, and continues.

“You’re a great scene partner, Audra-my-deah, and I respect you for cougaring not one but two of our little balding Brady Bunch here, but you were kinda the reason I figured out I’m gay. Like, big time gay. Well, the second reason.” He rubs tortilla-salt fingers through Eddie’s hair and feels his stomach go fuzzy when Eddie kinda thrums out a low noise against him. Oh, he’s purring. Some deep down part of Richie’s caveman psyche, lodged right in the hungry reptilian nub of his central brain wants to bear-hug Eddie to a pulp, wants to Lenny him like a mouse until they both stop breathing at the same exact moment from the pressure.

Yeesh, dark!

He smooches one of Eddie’s Easter Island eyebrows instead, keeps his lips mushed there. Smooches again. “Biiiiiiig time.”

“My wife,” Bill whips around from his seat on the floor at Richie’s feet, cheeks bulging with wontons, “my wife did not cougar me.”

Eddie shushes him. Everyone else is exchanging Looks, including Audra, because she totally did cougar Bill. Good for her!

“My wife,” Richie mimics, all sing-song and bugling. “Who the fuck are you, Borat?” Eddie snorts, hard. “Turn around and watch me make sweet love to ya woman, Bill.”

Onscreen Richie is struggling out of a giant hockey jersey at the sight of Onscreen Audra’s nubile charms. Everything is lit terribly, to a Smash Mouth deep cut.

“Oh man, check out that figure.” Richie whistles at himself, twenty-six years old with muscles like long ropes. “These were the pre-gut days. Even though my diet was just Adderall and instant ramen.”

“I like your gut,” Eddie murmurs, squidging at it with the hand not shoved up the back of Richie’s shirt. He’s already looking pretty tipsy, because he told everyone loudly and at length that he’d have to be what he deemed, shithouse drunk, to cope with whatever 90 minute dick jokeathon he was about to endure for the sake of two minutes of Richie-ass. “You’re hotter than him.”

Richie preens. “I am him, dude.”

Eddie’s hand lands clumsy on his cheek, pulling Richie’s attention away from his own foregrounded bare ass and Onscreen Audra’s shocked expression, to face him. Eddie’s all unfocused, flushed in the cheeks. “You’re both hot. Him and you, I’d fuck you both. I’d let both of you fuck me at once.”

“Um,” says Ben. Mike keeps slorping up noodles, but his eyes are saucering at Bill’s giant TV.

“Hhohkaaay,” Richie breathes.

“Is this when you saw it, Audra?” Bev asks. She waggles her eyebrows at them from the muscular nook of Ben’s arms. “The famous Tower of Tozier? You mentioned in the group chat.”

“What group chat,” Richie croaks, wrenching his eyes from the sight of Eddie’s slick tongue pulsing gently against his lower lip, hanging open like he wants Richie to see inside his mouth. Yowza-yowza-yowza, this is so much better than movie-nights back in the 90s. “I never saw anything about that? And I monitor you all on WhatsApp twenty-four-sevs. I literally have nothing better to do while Eddie’s working.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Beverly dismisses him with a flick of her wrist.

Audra is nodding vigorously while Onscreen Audra tilts her head comically far to the right. “That’s when I saw it,” she says. “They couldn’t find a modesty sock that fit you, Richie, remember? I didn’t have to fake that reaction. And that’s with them blasting the A/C on high so my nips would poke through my shirt.” She nudges Eddie’s shin gently and stage-whispers, “Well done.”

Eddie growls hot miso breath into Richie’s neck. Snarls, really. That’s the only word for it. Richie’s not embarrassed—he’s been telling people about his donkey schlong for years, not his fault nobody ever believes him. It’s a boy who cried wolf situation, perhaps, if the boy was actually telling the truth every time and just wanted to brag to everyone about seeing a really big, thick wolf.

“Honey,” Bill says, visibly distressed, “this is already weird enough for me, please don’t say nips.”

“Nips, nips, nips.” Audra tickles into Bill’s ribs, and Richie joins in the chant, they all do. It’s a hailstorm of sesame toast raining on Big Bill’s protesting head. “Stiff nips! Stiff nips!”

“Shut up, I’m, uh’wanna see Rich fuck!” Eddie roars, wrestling the couch cushions for the remote and stabbing the volume obscenely loud.

Moans fill the air. Rice sprays from Mike’s mouth, between his hasty fingers. Patty is laughing so hard into Stan’s shoulder Richie would be kinda worried about her, if he wasn’t so distracted by the way Eddie’s leaning forward, hand on Richie’s thigh and eyes locked to Onscreen Richie’s bare bucking hips. He remembers this part horrible and clear, preserved behind glass in his mind like the embarrassing ninth grade school photo his mom still won’t remove from the mantelpiece. Braces like train tracks and his eyes squinted up small and moleish because his mom said she wanted to see his handsome face without his glasses for once. Eddie laughed at it for five whole minutes the first time Richie brought him up to visit mom and dad as his—as his, at last, before snapping a careful picture of the photo with his phone and muttering, so cute.

It’s the noises.

“This was the day I learned women really can, uh, fake orgasms,” Richie says. He coughs. Eddie’s fingers tighten on his thigh and he looks back at Richie over his shoulder, eyes all drunk and dark and dilated like a shark’s to the backdrop of Onscreen Richie and Audra’s plastic din. Richie’s head thumps dizzily, sliding his hand secret under Eddie’s shirt to the damp small of his back, watching his neck go pink. This, now this is familiar from 90s movie nights, how sweaty they’d get, tangled together like pocketed earbuds the longer the VHS spun. Always on the same couch by unspoken agreement, kicking and left to do so by the others, like the clubhouse hammock flirting was more RichieandEddie status quo than behaviour tethered to any one location. Feeling your heartbeat in your ears and everywhere your limbs are shoved between another sapling boy-body, and the couch.

Richie can see exactly what Eddie’s thinking, in that darkness. That’s not how you sound in bed with me.

“This is revolting,” says Stan, mildly, but Richie holds up his hand like a stop sign, pulled roughly back to the present.

“Wait, wait, here comes my line!”

“Thought you said it was a non-speaking—”

The camera cuts from Onscreen Audra’s bouncing breasts to Onscreen Richie’s slack-jawed face, his ill-conceived soul patch. He was asked to remove his glasses for the scene, he remembers, and was glad of it, feeling useless and young and stupid and exposed enough already just by virtue of needing the money, he didn’t need to see this perfectly nice and reasonable actress pity him for not even knowing how to pretend at being with a woman. Onscreen Richie tilts his chin up, and Bill’s entire rec room holds its breath. There will be bruises on Richie’s thigh tomorrow.

A grunt, a groan. An unsubtle trumpet fanfare musical cue on the soundtrack, but hey, neither of them ever claimed Bongo Smugglers was a masterpiece. “¡Ay, chihuahua!”

Richie throws his arms up in triumph. “All my own improv, folks! And they kept it in the final cut!”

Eruption. He’s pelted with howls of disgust and prawn crackers. Eddie grabs one of his arms and just shakes him, ragdolls Richie’s laughing body around until he tips over and sprawls into Eddie’s lap, shielded from assault. Eddie chews his insistent teeth into Richie’s shoulder, and finally, the scene ends with Onscreen Richie leaping a naked escape from Onscreen Audra’s balcony.

“Worst,” Eddie mumbles against Richie’s nape. “Worst thing’ve ever seening m’life.”

He’s so drunk, sweet thing. Richie sits back up, still wheezing. He rests his cheek on Eddie’s shoulder and gazes starrily up at his plastered little face. Steel-cut jaw softened with laughter and stubble, un-gelled hair curling around like a chestnut lamb’s. “Worst ever-ever?”

“No,” Eddie says plainly, and that’s true, “but it’s up there. Woulda rented the shit out of this at Blockbuster.”

Richie flings his leg over Eddie’s knees, kicking Bill in the process. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, gathering up all Richie’s loose ends in a big circling cuddle. “Every week. Woulda worn it out. Broke the disc.”

“Got your ‘Lil ‘Busters membership card revoked for being a creep.”

“Worth it.”

“Aw, Eddie-baby.”

“Would you two stop, you’re making the rest of us look bad,” Bev says, smiling fondly. The movie’s moved on, and none of them are really paying attention now that the main event’s over, but everyone’s still coming down, dismounting from belly-laughter and landing ankle-deep in giggles. “That was inspired.”

“He made me laugh so hard on that take,” Audra sighs, leaning against Bill. “I remember thinking, shame he’s a closet-case. I always knew you were a good guy under all that fake stand-up.” She rolls her head back on her neck to look at Richie, upside down. “D’you remember right after, too?”

“Ah,” says Richie, tensing up. Eddie must feel it, because he makes a lowing noise of concern and turns the volume down.

“What you did to those guys?”

��Ahaha, uh.” Richie struggles to sit upright with hot embarrassment tugging at his stomach. “They don’t need to—Audra, it’s not, anyone would’ve done the same—”

“No, actually, you were the only one who ever did,” Audra says, sharp-eyed, and Richie remembers that too. How much surer and in control of herself she was than him, even back then, when they were both just simple bottom-feeders on L.A.’s sludgy floor.

“What happened?” Patty asks. They’re all looking. Richie stares at the wall beside the TV’s garish over-saturation, scratches at the back of his neck, until Eddie takes his hand softly back to hold in his.

“I was pretty much always the only woman on set,” Audra explains. “Par for the course on a movie like that, it was whatever. It’s nothing like real sex, obviously, you have to stop and wait for lighting changes, new set-ups and stuff, you’re surrounded by crew. But you’re the only ones naked, and pretending to fuck, right? It can be a little.” She pulls a face, tilts her palm back and forth. “Degrading.”

Richie snorts, humorlessly.

“Anyway, that scene wrapped and they called cut, and a few of the guys in the crew said some stuff. About me. The director ignored it, the producer ignored it. I was used to it,” Audra says. Richie can see the edge of Bill’s jaw clench and re-clench like a fist as he watches his wife speak. Audra smiles widely, then, and jerks a thumb at Richie. “But this guy?”

They’re grinning, they’re all grinning, because they know him. Richie squirms under it. He can feel blood pounding behind his ears, across the surface of his scalp in pulsing waves of embarrassed heat, because it’s one thing to spend your life running your big fat Trashmouth to distract the bullies’ attention onto you, but it’s another for people to treat you like some kinda hero for it. Like it’s not just something friends do.

Bev’s eyes go all emerald-shiny with delight, like the quarry in sunlight. She covers her mouth. “Oh, Richie.”

“Knocked the first one out cold,” Audra crows. “You tried your best after that. It was three against one and he had a black eye before the rest of us could separate them, but he had the element of surprise at first. I mean, he flew at them, if you can imagine it—you’re what, six-one, six-two?”

Eddie’s trembling ever-so-slightly against him. Richie screws his eyes shut. “Six-two.”

“No wonder the asshole shit himself, you came at him all six-foot-two naked inches, pissed as hell, with a massive—”

“Alright!” Richie yelps, because if there’s anything more embarrassing than his brief Bongo Smugglers cameo, it’s the fact that he left set that day with a black eye and no money. Who cares. His closest friends are alive and they’re cheering, and Eddie is shoving himself into Richie’s lap just like it’s movie night in 1991 but with 100% more enthusiastic frenching, seating his drunk ass in Richie’s startled hands and hissing god, you’re such a crazy dumbass, I love you so much, Richie, even back then with that soul-patch I’d have loved you so much, god, sexy, Rich, wanna see you with a black eye, can I give you one, can you give me one, Richie, I’m gonna fuck you so good for this later, ay chihuahua—!

#long post #once again i did not mean to write over 2k about fake sex comedy Bongo Smugglers (2002) when i started answering this message #reddie #ficlet #bongo smugglers

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emelkae · 4 years

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The Rise of Skywalker takeaways

Do not click open if you haven’t seen TROS/don’t want to read TROS spoilers! I'm on mobile so hopefully this has the Keep Reading thingy. This is from the perspective of someone who liked TFA and disliked TLJ.

The Good: I did like it, generally, for nostalgia reasons. I would say I was satisfied with it as an ending to the sequel trilogy, and some of the things that critics ripped apart felt like no big deal to me.

One critic said watching the trio quip and banter with each other was boring and that it seemed like their scenes were supposed to be interesting merely because they were together. They lamented the lack of earth-shattering dialogue between them and said it felt more fanfiction-y than dialogue should be coming from a professional franchise, but honestly, seeing the three together doing literally anything was something I wanted to see more of, and I loved every second of them sharing the screen. And why should dialogue between friends always be earth-shattering? They were just hangin’ out and it was wonderful. There was so much hugging and shoulder pats.

It was visually the best-looking thing to come out of this franchise. You could take any shot from this movie and stick it on a poster and it would fit. It did sometimes come off as them cramming every piece of concept art into the movie, but it was so beautiful I didn’t even care.

Carrie’s Leia scenes were not as clunky as the critics said they were. I think going into it knowing they were deleted scenes made them seem slightly more “off,” but if I didn’t know that I wouldn’t have found anything wrong with them.

The parallels to the original trilogy were numerous and were obvious fan pandering, but I ate it up. I 100% expected that from J.J. Abrams. Same with the cameos. I got all emotional at the last “be with me” scene, I’ll admit that unabashedly, and I liked the scene at the end with Force Ghost Luke and Leia.

Kylo Ren became basically a Vader clone and I was here for it. I was like “you go you absolute edgelord meme I hate that I love this terrible character so much”

Lando gets to fly the Falcon again ahhhhh he’s reunited with L3 :)

The Palpatine stuff was weird, but I thought it was super cool anyway. Probably it was the visuals that got me, but Star Wars has been weirder, so no complaints from me there.

THE SCENE WITH HAN AND BEN OOOOOOOOOOO BEECH I WAS SO HAPPY. And Luke lifting the X-Wing and smiling directly at the camera like a little shit god damn you you are really just like Obi-Wan in your ghost life ain’t cha?

I didn’t see what all the praise was about with Adam Driver’s acting as Kylo Ren until his transformation into Ben Solo. His whole face smoothed out and it seemed like his eyes got bigger and softer? Catch me being thirsty but I did actually want to see more of him as Ben. His fighting mannerisms were just like Anakin’s, too. And he was just so gentle ghjkjhg

The Bad: Okay…Although I liked it, I do have complaints. Some minor, some major.

It was too long and too much was going on at once. Because there was so much packed in there, the pacing was weird and the scene transitions were very awkward and jerky. They could have cut like a quarter of all that and it would have been fine.

Finn never tells Rey that he’s Force sensitive, and I only knew from context clues and actor interviews that that was what he was going to say to her, so of course they never explore Finn’s relationship to the Force or even mention it any point.

There are soooo many parallels to Leia and Han with Finn and Poe (not to mention the chemistry), but of course they don’t end up together. They introduce some random new female characters who, while badass, are completely flat and are obviously only there as love interests and new action figures to sell. Idk, maybe I’m just salty because my ship isn’t canon. Speaking of new toys, the new droid they introduced was another thing they obviously just wanted to stock shelves with. It was cute though.

Most of the major plot points were out of completely nowhere and were not foreshadowed at all. Rey being a Palpatine and Hux being a spy for the Resistance come to mind. Also, there could have been some really interesting character development with Hux being a spy, like Kallus in Rebels, but then he is just unceremoniously killed by a superfluous random character. Leia’s lightsaber and her whole “oh actually she’s been trained in the Force this whole time” was a cool concept that also came out of nowhere.

The scene with Rey and Kylo fighting above the ocean was just awful. It was twice as long as it needed to be, the fighting was clumsy (a critic said it was like they were swinging baseball bats at each other and it absolutely was), and some parts of it were so needlessly dramatic that I was laughing at what was supposed to be a serious scene.

I wish they would've left Threepio's memory wiped. They made the wipe such a huge emotional deal and then were like "nvm Artoo can just stick a thing in his head and it's all good" and I was like "...oh so all that was for no reason then I guess"

The Ugly: I. Do not. Ship. Reylo. I don’t ship it and have never shipped it. I don’t get aggressive toward people who do (ship and let ship, y’know?), but it personally makes me uncomfortable and just feels creepy. So as pretty as I find Ben and as gentle as he was with Rey, I kinda imploded at the kiss and was so upset that I said “Nope nope nope fuck no” out loud in the theater and closed my eyes. Especially since I think the comics established that Palpatine is Anakin’s dad, and he’s also Rey’s grandfather, which I think makes Ben and Rey like…first cousins once removed or something. That was the only thing that made me genuinely really pissed off about the movie, that Reylo is…I guess canon? Even though Ben died right after? It was very very weird and I hated it. And it made NO SENSE. I liked watching Driver as Ben, but I didn't think Kylo deserved a redemption and certainly didn't want it to be that sudden and short. Him dying was also done weirdly.

Overall: Most of my complaints are just me nitpicking, with the exception of the last one. I am actually glad I went to go see it. The good does outweigh the bad for me. While I can definitively say I liked TFA and hated TLJ, I can only say this one made me feel mostly good when I left the theater. It was bad as a movie, but good to just romp nostalgically through the Star Wars universe with.

#tros #tros spoilers #the rise of skywalker #the rise of skywalker spoilers #episode 9 #ep 9 #ep ix #ep ix spoilers #episode ix #episode ix spoilers #episode 9 spoilers #star wars #star wars spoilers

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simplejjs · 7 years

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Chapter 2 of My Reveal Story

Oh, man, I have so much work to do! Have any of you guys seen that one funny comic someone drew, of a stick figure running along, with a sign post to the far right reading, “Life Goals” and a huge hole between the figure and the sign, with “MLB” at the bottom of the hole? Jeesh, that is totally me!

So here’s the next chapter. :-) I know that that “Cat’s got your tongue” pun has been (over)used by this fandom, but I really truly would most likely have put it in there on my own even without other people’s comics putting the thought in my head. But apologies if it seems tired to you. :-) It fit precisely!

I’m so happy to see that others are liking my story! Enjoy!

p.s. I wrote in my first post that there were 4 chapters. What was I thinking? there are 5!

My Reveal Story Chapter 2 (by JJ Sprinkle)

Marinette was bent over her desk struggling for the thousandth time to pull her mind back to the Math homework in front of her, when Tikki suddenly whizzed before her face and cried, “Marinette! I think Cat Noir is trying to reach you! You have to transform!”

“What?” Marinette lifted her head, surprised.

“I - I can *feel* it! I think he’s using his baton to try to contact you.”

Without hesitation, Marinette jumped up and cried, “Tikki, Spots on!” A bright light enveloped her, and the familiar weightless, spinning feeling washed over her. Within a breath, the floor re-solidified beneath her feet, and she felt her body encased in her soft, supple red suit Immediately her magic yoyo chimed, and Marinette flipped it open.

“What’s wrong?” Ladybug cried without preliminary.

Cat Noir’s wide grin greeted her words, “Bugaboo! Nothing’s wrong, but I had an idea, and I didn’t know how else to contact you.”

“No akumas?” Ladybug confirmed. At Cat Noir’s nod, she relaxed, and smiled back. “What’s up, Kitty?”

Cat Noir could feel his heartbeat speeding up. After spending the day making Marinette nervous, Adrien just wanted to spend a little time relaxing with his Ladybug. He knew he’d be able to joke and flirt with her, without Ladybug stumbling, stuttering, and making them both anxious. He just wanted to hang out with his friend, but never before had they spent time without primarily chasing an akuma’s victim. Now he was hoping to change all that. “So I was thinking we ought to start patrolling periodically, to try to catch Hawkmoth’s victims before they do too much damage. And also,” he added, thinking that might not be enough to pull Marinette from her homework, “if we can find an akuma before it gets to its victim, maybe we can trace back where they come from and find Hawkmoth’s lair.” He grinned a little nervously, and rubbed his neck. “Whaddya think, MiLady?”

Ladybug bit her lip and thought to herself, ‘I think that I wish *I* had thought of it.’ Nodding to the screen however, Ladybug replied, “Pretty clever, Kitty! Finally we could find Hawkmoth! You want to meet right now? Where?”

“Let’s meet at the top of the Eiffel Tower, where Guitar Villain fought XY.”

“Okay!” Ladybug agreed. “Bug out!” She clicked shut her yoyo, then surveyed her room. She still had half of her Math homework to finish, and she was supposed to start an essay for History. “It’s not like I was getting anything done anyway,” she muttered. So, leaping up to her sleeping loft, Marinette placed a pillow under the covers to fool her parents in case they checked, and then flipped off the lights. Letting herself out onto the roof garden, Ladybug felt the familiar thrill as she threw her yoyo to the opposite roofline, and leaped off into the night.

Ladybug and Cat Noir arrived at the Eiffel Tower almost simultaneously.

“Good evening, MiLady,” Cat Noir swept Ladybug a grand bow.

“I’m glad you thought of this, Cat Noir!” Ladybug replied, all business. She took a moment to survey Paris, and to her side, Cat Noir took a moment to survey her. The soft lights of Paris highlighted the slope of her shoulder and the curve of her hips, emphasizing her delicate waist. For a moment, Cat Noir dreamt of placing one hand possessively around her waist and pulling her next to him as they looked out over the cityscape.

Instead, Cat Noir stepped up to the railing next to her. He wrapped his gloved hands over the railing as the night’s wind shuddered the iron structure. “I thought we could divide the city into quadrants and take one quadrant a night.”

“You really have put thought into this, haven’t you Chaton?” Ladybug asked, impressed. She added, “I don’t think I can come out every night though. I … I have…” Ladybug weighed how much to give away about herself, “I have homework, and parents.”

Cat Noir smiled into the night, thinking fondly, and more than a little enviously, of Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. “I have homework too. Maybe we could do this every other night. Let’s just play it by-” he flicked his cat ears back and forth, “-ear.”

Ladybug smiled at his antics, then tossing her yoyo into the pitchy darkness below, she said, “Let’s do the Northwest quadrant tonight,” and swung down the tower. Cat Noir was quick on her heels, jumping and vaulting from one strut to the next, until they reached the ground.

The two leaped across the rooflines of Paris, generally Ladybug taking the lead but sometimes Cat Noir calling directions. They criss-crossed avenues and alleyways, swinging past the Arc de Triomphe, hopscotching lamp posts on the Champs Elysee, and heading ultimately for the Sacre Coeur. Ladybug lost herself in the glorious freedom of flying between the buildings. The wind whistled in her ears, and pulled at her pigtails. She felt like finally she was leaving the clumsiness and confusion of the day behind her as she sped through the night.

In fact, Cat Noir was struggling a bit to keep up with her. He doubted she was actually watching out for akumas, but rather seemed to be racing herself through the night.

“Hold up, Lightning bug!” Cat Noir called as they approached the Tuileries. Ladybug landed lightly on the gravel near a large round fountain, and Cat Noir came to rest beside her. Both were panting.

“I’m not sure we’re going to see any akumas when we race through the streets that way, MiLady.”

Ladybug looked down at her feet, and hesitated before agreeing. Then she kicked a pebble across the wide path and said, “Sorry, Cat. I guess I wasn’t really looking. It just felt so good to go fast.” She kicked at another pebble.

Cat Noir put one hand on her shoulder and asked, “Are you okay, Bugaboo? Bad day?”

Ladybug laughed a little, and shrugging his hand off her shoulder, replied, “No, just the opposite actually. C’mon, I’ll be slower,” and shooting her yoyo ahead of her, she took off again.

Cat Noir sighed, thinking he should be happy, but in fact feeling a little bereft. Extending his baton, he took off after her.

Ladybug was more assiduous this time, carefully choosing the route with the most efficient perspective, and more precisely transversing the area. Cat Noir also stayed professional, pushing his desire to tease and flirt to the back of his mind for the moment.

Finally they came to rest at the Sacre Coeur. Ladybug chose a smaller dome for them to perch upon, with the view of the city spread out at their feet. It was small enough that, as they sat, their shoulders rubbed each other’s. They were panting again.

The two sat in companionable silence, feeling the cool breeze and listening to the muted sounds of Paris at their feet. The muffled sounds of cars gunning their motors at green lights, and honking at slower motorists, the disjointed singing from a bar somewhere in Montmartre, a girl laughing, solo footsteps… The distant sounds added life to the twinkling city lights.

Ladybug sighed just as Cat Noir said, “I love this city.”

Giggling at their parallel thoughts, Ladybug said, “I do too.”

“So, MiLady,” Cat Noir turned to Ladybug and leaned back on his arms, “You had a good day? I know a way we could make it even better…” and he playfully waggled his eyebrows beneath his mask.

Pushing lightly on his shoulder with her index finger, Ladybug laughed and said, “Oh, Cat. You cannot make my day any better than it was!”

“Care to make that a bet?” Cat Noir asked flirtatiously.

“No!” Ladybug answered a little quickly, a blush staining her cheeks. ‘Hmmm…’ Cat Noir thought to himself, encouraged, but Ladybug’s next words deflated him. “I mean, there’s a boy at school that I’ve liked for a long time, and today he… Well, he just paid a lot of attention to me. There’s nothing you could do that could top that.”

“MiLady, you wound me!” Cat Noir dramatically placed one hand over his heart. Then, narrowing his eyes at her, he said, “You’re not going to tell me about my rival, are you? This is a cat-astrophe!” and grinned.

Shaking her head at his silly pun, Ladybug replied, “Your rival? Pfft!”

Cat Noir leaned down and butted her shoulder with his head, cat-style, and teased, “So I’m still the first in your heart, Bugaboo?”

“Seriously, Cat Noir, I really do like this boy. I’m… I’m sorry…”

Cat Noir kept his head down so that Ladybug couldn’t see his smile. Schooling his expression, he then looked up at Ladybug and asked, “Is he strong?”

“What?” Ladybug asked, surprised.

“Is he strong? Is he as strong as me?” and he flexed his biceps to emphasize his question.

Laughing again, Ladybug said, “Of course not! You’re a superhero!”

“So he’s not as strong as you, either,” Cat Noir pointed out. A peculiar look crossed Ladybug’s face. “Does he fight bad guys?”

Pressing her lips together, a tiny bit cross, Ladybug said, “Like you, you mean?”

“Like *us*, MiLady, like *us*.” Cat Noir moved his hand on top of hers. Ladybug pulled her hand away, and crossed her arms.

“No,” she replied, a little grumpily, “he doesn’t fight bad guys.” She tried not to rise to Cat Noir’s bait, but finally said defensively, “Look, he’s just a nice, smart, kind guy.”

“Is he cute?” Cat Noir asked, and shaking his golden, silky hair, knowing that even the dim lights of the night cityscape would catch his natural highlights, Cat Noir gazed at Ladybug with the most appealing expression in his emerald green eyes. He added, “Is he as cute as me?”

Relaxing again, Ladybug uncrossed her arms and waved her hand dismissively, “Oh please! Much cuter! He’s a model!”

Cat Noir shook his head and tsk’ed. “So let me get this straight.” Raising one hand, he ticked off his points on his fingers, “You like a boy who is kinda weak, merely nice, but certainly gorgeous. Huh. I didn’t realize you were so won over by surface appeal, MiLady. I would have spent more time on my appearance,” he teased.

Ladybug was back to sputtering defensively, “Cat, that’s not what I meant! He’s… he’s… also really smart, and thoughtful, and he has a crummy dad, and…” she petered out, uncertain how to explain Adrien to Cat Noir. He was earnest and kind, not showy but genuine. He did not flirt incessantly. He was… breathtaking.

Cat Noir interrupted her thoughts with more flirting. In a persuasive tone he suggested, “You could date us both and then make a more informed decision. I’m not afraid of the competition!”

“Cat Noir!”

Leaning forward, almost conspiratorily, Cat Noir added, “I even bet that I’m the better kisser!”

Immediately the image of Cat Noir looming over her, threatening her with his Cataclysm, popped into Ladybug’s mind, along with her memories of pulling his face to hers and kissing him deeply. To this day, he did not even know.

Cat Noir watched Ladybug go absolutely still, and then her face turn a bright, bright pink. At her silence, he grinned, “Cat got your tongue?”

As if burned, Ladybug jumped to her feet and shot out her yoyo to the main dome of the cathedral, “Okay, I’m done. Goodnight, Cat Noir!”

Cat Noir bent over, laughing hilariously. He wasn’t quite sure why his last outrageous comment had been the final straw for Ladybug, but clearly it was. Gasping for breath, Cat Noir jumped up to chase after her, still chuckling.

“Wait, wait Ladybug!” he called.

Ladybug did pause, standing silhouetted at the peak of Sacre Coeur’s dome. Cat Noir leaped up to her, but Ladybug kept her body stiff and her back turned to him. “I’m sorry, Bugaboo!” he said sincerely, although humor still shaded his tone. “I didn’t meant to tease!” He got down on one knee and grabbed her hand in his. Ladybug finally softened enough to look at him. He gallantly kissed the back of her hand and promised, “I won’t tease you again.” Then, he thought better of it and said, “Well, at least I promise to *try* not to tease you again!” Ladybug pulled her hand out of his grasp.

Rising, Cat Noir asked contritely, “Friends?” and held out his hand.

Pursing her lips, Ladybug glowered at Cat Noir for a moment but then relented. She grasped his hand with hers and echoed, “Friends.” They shook.

Cat Noir let go of her hand and pulled out his baton. “I guess it’s time to call it a night. Meet to patrol the evening after tomorrow, right? Same time, same place?”

“Uh, right,” Ladybug replied, somewhat bemused by Cat Noir’s sudden, professional tone.

“Okay, see you then!” he said. Extending his baton, Cat Noir turned to vault off the building, only to look over his shoulder at Ladybug, “But I *do* think you should date us both. Goodnight!” and he leaped off into the night.

Ladybug was caught off guard with his last comment, and couldn’t gather her wits quickly enough to get the last word in. She was left sputtering, alone, with the image of dating both Adrien and Cat Noir stuck in her mind.

Grumpily she made her way home.

To Be Continued...! (By JJ Sprinkle)

Up Next: https://simplejjs.tumblr.com/post/166650261515/chapter-3-of-my-reveal-story

#MLB #Miraculous #Ladybug #Cat Noir #LadyNoir #reveal #Adrienette

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hypnoticharlequin · 7 years

Note

Big Fan. I always wnjoy seeing other writers at work. I saw that you were doing prompts, and I tried to figure out a tricky one. So... Prompt: Haunted House Happenings.

(Thank you so much! I’m glad you are enjoying my stuff! And this was a tricky prompt, mostly because I had two or three ideas for where I could take it. I ended up going a little overboard with it!)

"Look, gang, the old Henderson mansion! Often said to be the most haunted building in all of New England!" Smiled Alison as she looked over the gothic frontage that stood before her, towering into the night.

"Don't ever call us gang again," huffed Clara as she took a few photos. "We are not the Scooby-Doo team."

"But I bought an ascot and everything!" Whined Alison.

"Tough, we are not them and anyhow, you don't have the dumb charm to be Freddy, you are more Daphnie." Replied Clara as she put her camera away and opened the old rusty gate, the creaking noise causing some bats to fly out of a nearby tree.

"Daphnie?!" Shouted Alison incredulously. "Says you, Velma!"

"So, we are going to keep the cameras running constantly, we need the B-roll and this place is going to look a mess regardless of how we try and frame the shots," explained Clara to the two camera girls before turning to respond to Alison. "I know I'm the fan favorite, thank you." She said with a smirk before heading off up the drive.

Alison huffed and followed the others up the drive, something felt off to her, like an electricity in the air that wrapped around her body. She brushed it off quite quickly, it was just nerves. Soon she joined the team on the porch of the house.

"The door is unlocked," explained Clara, twisting the handle to prove it. "I think we should do a scene of you knocking, might be good comic relief." She said as Alison moved closer to the door. Alison twisted her body a bit, trying to line herself up perfectly with the camera, she did want them to get her best side after all.

"Hello, Ghost Hunters! May we come in?" Sung Alison as she hammered on the heavy wooden door. However, as she finished the door swung open and Alison fell in, landing on the floor with a heavy thud.

The camera girls screamed, only for Clara to roll her eyes. "Calm down you two!" She lectured, "it is fine, I obviously knocked it off the latch when I fiddled with the handle." She said before going to help Alison up. Alison coughed a little and tried to brush the dust off her outfit.

"Yeah, it's fine, I'm just clumsy, you know these old houses, the wood warps in the summer and then none of the doors close right." She said as she nodded at the two camera girls. "Really? That had you two shaking?" She sighed as she watched them tremble. "Come on, you're not a load of wimps like those Legendary Truth guys, are you?"

The girls shook their heads and slowly made their way into the house, still visibly trembling. Alison and Clara started to quickly move deep into the bowels of the building.

"So, what is the story of this place?" Asked Clara in her best TV voice.

"Well it is quite the tale," smiled Alison into the camera. "This house seems to drive all its owners mad. There was the bride who took each of her husbands' heads with a hatchet," She explained. "And then there was Dr. Verninstien."

"Well, that is a name that suggests impending doom," smiled Clara, winking into the camera.

"She was a pretty normal neurologist before she went full mad scientist, locked herself in the attic and tried to weaponize the paranormal," continued Alison. "Of course, she vanished after a few years, most people presume she had a lab accident."

Suddenly a large bang echoed through the room. The camera girls screamed, one dropping their camera to the floor. Alison and Clara looked around.

"Upstairs," said Clara calmly before she spotted the camera on the floor. "What the hell?!" She shouted. "If we lost footage due to you two jumping then I'm going to be taking it out of your pay!" She said, picking the camera up and shoving it back into the camera girl's hand.

Alison started to walk up the creaking stairs, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. As she reached the top of the stairs she found an open door and wandered inside. "There is an open door up here," she shouted down. "Likely a breeze knocked something over," she continued, not looking as she walked deeper into the dark room.

Suddenly the room illuminated with a bright, yet eerie white light. Before Alison was a short woman, she wore a long tattered lab coat that dragged along the floor. Her black hair was messy and unbrushed and around her eyes were deep black circles.

"Who are you?!" Shouted Alison, backing off a few steps before she hit something, the cold metal on her back making her shudder.

"Doctor Ira Verninstien," said the woman, her voice sounding like a radio slowly fading in and out of static. Alison's eyes went wide, her heart was now trying to escape from her chest.

"But, but, you vanished, years ago!" She shouted and stuttered, only now realizing that the room was full of strange devices. "You're dead!"

"Dead?" Laughed the Doctor as she came near. "My dear, I've never felt better." The closer she came the more terrified Alison became, her legs refusing to move, refusing to run despite all of her mind's screams to the contrary.

The Doctor moved closer and closer until she was so close Alison, close enough that Alison should have been able to feel her breath, but there was none. Alison stared up, her eyes pricking with tears, she wanted to cry out and run, but she couldn't.

Suddenly the Doctor let something fall from her hand, an object that swung gently from the Doctor's finger, an object that let out a strange glow. The glow cut through Alison's terror, it seemed oddly calming. She looked at it and found that the more she looked the more beautiful the light became, the more fixated on it she was. She hardly heard the Doctor speaking anymore.

The Doctor let the object sway and smiled. "I've never been more alive, I've found what I needed and now I just need some company, someone to protect my lab from those who wish to snoop," she cackled, watching as Alison's eyes glazed over watching the swaying object. "And this device will allow me to do it, it seems those silly mesmerists were right, they just didn't go far enough," she said gravely.

Suddenly Alison felt a sharp stabbing pain in her mind, she let out a scream and collapsed to the floor, limp.

"Alison, Alison?" Shouted Clara. Alison blinked heavily as the world came back into focus. Clara was above her, shaking her by her shoulders. The two camera girls were behind her, looking terrified.

"What. What happened?" Moaned Alison, holding her head.

"You ran up here on your own and hit your head," explained Clara, pointing to a roof beam that lay next to her. "Knocked yourself right out."

"I can feel it," nodded Alison, pulling herself up to her feet, swaying slightly as she did. "So, where were we?"

"Whoa, whoa. No, we're going and getting you to a hospital." Replied Clara firmly. "You could have a concussion, it's fine, we'll come back another day."

"I'm fine." Replied Alison, an unusual firmness in her voice. "Let's get this done, the hospital can wait a bit."

"But," started one of the camera girls only to be cut off.

"I said I'm fine! If you two had been following me like you should have been maybe I wouldn't have hit my head, so just point the cameras and let's get this done!" Snapped Alison, causing the two camera girls to jump back in shock.

"Right, okay, look let's get this attic filmed," said Clara, getting between the camera girls and Alison and trying to diffuse the situation as best she could. Alison took a deep breath and nodded trying to push aside the deep throbbing in her brain.

"This room looks untouched," muttered one of the camera girls. Clara nodded.

"Yeah, I guess it is further than most venture, looks like there could be a lot of cool finds in her, lets search around, could be some fun objects to film," she said as she started to walk around and inspect various drawers.

Alison did the same, going around the room, pulling open anything that wasn't nailed shut in an attempt to find something interesting. However, everything seemed dull to her, nothing had that "it" factor that made her want to devote filming time to it. Then she came to a wardrobe and opened it gently.

Inside was a tattered lab coat. Alison was hit by a wave of almost childlike excitement, she couldn't contain it. She grabbed the coat and slipped it on. It felt right, it felt perfect. Then she saw a slim beam of light at the back of the wardrobe. She pushed firmly and a secret door opened, revealing a lab, just like the one she had seen when she was out cold.

The throbbing in her head was gone, Alison stepped inside and smiled to herself, this was perfect. But not for filming. Perfect for something more. "Hey, guys come into the wardrobe, check this out!"

Clara turned and looked at the two camera girls. "Well, looks like we have something to film, come on." She said, gesturing them to follow her. The girls lagged behind, keen to keep as much distance between them and Alison as possible.

As Clara went through the hole in the back of the wardrobe she let out a large scream. The girls ran in and saw a horrific sight before them. Alison stood in the center of the room, clad in a filthy old lab coat, her eyes totally glazed over. Coming out of her body were thin strands of light leading up to a ghostly figure that floated above the girl.

"Whats wrong guys? Isn't this cool?" Said Alison. Or at least, her mouth moved and words came out of it, her voice sounded off, the strands of light making her look like nothing more than a puppet of this weird entity.

"Let go of her!" Shouted Clara, moving forward to try and grab Alison. But Alison just moved back and avoided Clara's futile attempts to grab her.

In unison the entity and Alison laughed, their voices sounding horribly dissonant as they rang out in unison. "Oh come on, don't you want to discover the paranormal? Don't you want to find out its true power?"

The camera girls looked at each other and then turned and tried to run, but the door slammed shut. "Now now, no escaping, we need to do some research first!" laughed Alison. Clara grabbed onto Alison and tried to pull the strings out, only to find that her hands went straight through them.

Alison looked at Clara with a sick smile, wrapping her hands around the girl's throat and squeezing. Clara tried to fight and tried to struggle, but Alison was much stronger than she had ever imagined. Clara felt the world fading around her as her air ran out. She swung wildly at Alison and hit her square in the jaw, but Alison didn't flinch, with one tight squeeze Clara fell into the darkness.

Clara twitched awake, coughing as she did. She tried to move but found that she could not. She looked down and realized she was strapped into a machine. In front of her was a strange disc and she could see wires running above her, connecting to something she could feel on her head.

"Awake, wonderful, would hate for you to miss the party," said Alison as she moved in front of Clara. Clara spat, she knew this wasn't really Alison, even if she couldn't see that weird entity anymore.

"Fight this Alison, I know you're in there!" Shouted Clara, pleading with her friend.

"Oh what? You think the power of love is going to snap me out of this?" Laughed Alison. "No, the Doctor has shown me the true nature of the universe, and you are going to join me by hook or by crook."

"No! I won't!" Shouted Alison, trying to formulate an argument, but before she could Alison threw a switch and the disc in front of her started to spin. Clara stared at it, the colors blending into one changing and spiraling mass.

"Are you trying to, hypnotize me?" Asked Clara, unsure how to react. She found herself giggling a little, unsure how to process this information. Alison just smirked as a bolt of electricity coursed through Clara, causing her to scream and spasm.

Clara's mind swam, the pain was immense, but the colors, something about them kept her focused like they were dulling the pain like they were doing something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Every time she got close to working it out another shock ran through her body, shaking her brain up, breaking her thoughts. Time stretched as Clara stared into the disc, her thoughts becoming easier to rebuild, she felt sure of them. Despite the pain of the shocks, Clara found herself feeling happier, her brain felt like it had been decluttered, all of the junk that was weighing her down had been removed. After a while, even the shocks started to feel good, as long as Clara had the colors everything in the world was just perfect.

A snap. Clara blinked and looked around the disc was static once more. She turned her head and saw two women stood next to her. "Alison! Doctor Verninstien!" She smiled, her eyes crossing as she did. The girls looked at her expectantly as Clara realized she could move. Clara climbed out of the machine, knowing exactly what she had to do. She knelt before the two women and smiled up at them. "How may I serve you?" She asked calmly.

"So my plan is we go down and do the whole thing on handheld cameras." Smiled the girl as she talked to the other people around the table. "Give it that gritty found footage feel, something me and Sam are really great at doing." She explained as she pointed to the girl on the other side of the table.

"Right," replied a redhead, flicking through the proposal in front of her. "But isn't that place haunted?"

"Just a local urban legend," reassured the girl. "We can use it in the marketing, maybe fake some paranormal events to upload online for a bit of viral buzz," she explained.

"But it is totally safe?" Asked the redhead.

"Oh yeah, totally safe, you have my word for it," grinned the girl, looking up and catching a glimpse of her reflection in a mirror. She smiled wider as she saw the thin string of light run from her forehead to the figure of Doctor Verninstien that floated gently behind her.

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southerncrossfire44 · 7 years

Text

Barefoot Love

Part 1

It was a slow day at the comic book store. Mark Dobler sat behind the

counter, incredibly bored. Usually, there was a pretty good flow of customer

traffic, due to the store’s location just a couple of blocks from the Midwestern

State University campus. Not today, though. The only other person in the store

was an annoying guy named Theo. Theo was the type to hang out in the store for

hours, ranting about his latest comic book obsession or hatred. Mark enjoyed

comics, but he couldn’t stand the really hardcore fanatics. Mark knew that there

was a world outside those four-color pages, a distinction guys like Theo didn’t seem

to comprehend. Still, Theo usually bought something eventually, so it wasn’t worth

it to kick him out of the store.

Theo had just started another tirade about why some superhero book now

“sucked”, though it used to be “cool,” when the door opened, and Mark looked over

to it, glad to see some other face. It turned out to be better than he expected. It was

a woman. Any female was a rare enough sight in a comic shop, but this one was

pretty cute, to boot. She had a sort of shy, but sexy, librarian look. A girl who had

brains and beauty, but just didn’t realize how hot she really was. Mark could see

her hotness immediately, but then again, he was always fond of girls of her type. As

his eyes quickly scanned her attractive shape, he stopped when he came to her feet.

He would have assumed she would wear practical, but unremarkable shoes. Instead,

she was barefoot, and she had no shoes in sight. Mark was immediately interested.

He liked sexy librarians, but he really liked barefoot girls.

“Hi. Do you need help finding anything,” Mark called out.

“No. Just looking,” she answered. She turned toward one of the racks, and

started to scan the newest releases.

Mark desperately wanted to know more about this girl, but he didn’t want to

act like a creep or a weirdo. She was there to look at comics, not get hit on. He tried

to play it cool, but he couldn’t help checking her out. She had her back to him, but

he could see that she was absent mindedly wiggling her toes. He was riveted as she

raised her left foot and rubbed the sole against her other leg, as if scratching a minor

itch. She kept her knee crooked, her toes touching the floor, while leaving her sole

fully displayed. Mark couldn’t tear his eyes away from the wrinkled sole, as he

absorbed all the details of its smoothness and shapeliness. For all its aesthetic beauty,

he could also see the wonderful toughness of her sole, and he loved the fact that there

was a thin layer of dirt over the whole surface. This was a woman who went

barefoot a lot. He wondered if she was a member of the barefoot sorority. Mark had

seen Beta Gammas around campus, and had even once made a clumsy attempt to

hook up with one of them, but he’d never seen one in the store before. Mark started

to get a little excited, discreetly adjusting himself. He had to keep it cool. He was

at work for fuck’s sake!

“Hey, you should kick her out for not wearing shoes,” Theo whispered,

snapping Mark out of his trance.

“Chill out, man. There’s no law against it. We don’t even have a sign,”

Mark growled, extremely annoyed with Theo at that moment. Theo sniffed

indignantly, but headed over to the back issue bins without further comment.

The girl suddenly turned and walked toward the counter. The crotch of

Mark’s pants got a little tighter watching her gorgeous toes grip the floor as she

silently padded over. She leaned on the counter and flashed a sheepish smile.

“Do you have anything, with less, um, testosterone?” she asked. Damn,

her face was great, too. She was no supermodel, she was just real, and as far as

Mark was concerned, she was absolutely stunning. To hell with what anyone else

might think of her.

Mark thought fast, and took a chance. “I think we might have something.

It’s kind of ‘adult’, so we keep it behind the counter. Don’t want the second

graders or the soccer moms to see it.” He rummaged around a stack of comics.

Hopefully it hadn’t been sold. Then he found it. Jackpot! He handed it to her with

a triumphant smile. He secretly hoped he hadn’t presumed too much.

“This is a pretty good book. The main character is female, and it’s not

macho superhero stuff,” Mark made the pitch, then added, “Plus, she goes barefoot

all the time, and it’s a big part of the character. I, uh, noticed that you were barefoot,

so I thought it might interest you.”

She flashed an awesome smile, and Mark knew his gamble had paid off.

She looked at the cover, and then flipped through the book. “Mara, huh? Nice

artwork. I’ll take it,” she said.

Mark rang it up and gave her her change. “There’s some more volumes we

can probably get if you like it.”

“Cool. I’ll keep that in mind,” she answered. “You have a nice shop.” Mark

watched the tough, mildly dirty and utterly gorgeous bare feet walk to the door. He

stared at the door a long moment after she had gone.

“At least the dirty hippy bought something,” Theo sneered from the back of

the store. Mark ignored him. He turned to the computer to do some searching. He had

to track down some copies of those other Mara books. He sure hoped she came back.

Part 2

Lena Graves lay on her bed, her perpetually bare feet waving in the air behind

her. She was eagerly reading the new comic she had bought. The character of Mara

was amazing. She was a real hardcore barefoot girl. Lena felt inspired. She gleefully

rubbed her soles against each other, so happy she had given up shoes and socks

completely.

There was knock at the door. Lena hopped up and opened it. It was Angie

Drake and Michelle Burton, two of Lena’s new friends from the Beta Gamma sorority.

They were, of course, also constantly barefoot, like all the sorority members.

“Hey, Lena. We’re going to catch a movie. You want to come?” Michelle

asked.

“Sure, just give me a minute to change clothes,” Lena said. She went to her

closet and started to pick through her outfits. At least she didn’t have to worry about

matching shoes.

Angie noticed the Mara book sitting on Lena’s bed. “What’re you reading?”

“Oh, it’s this awesome comic about a barefoot girl adventurer in kind of a

sci-fi fantasy world,” Lena told her excitedly. “I’m only about halfway through, but

it’s pretty good.”

“I didn’t know you were into comics,” Michelle said.

“Well, a little bit. I don’t have boxes and boxes of them,” Lena said, a little

embarrassed.

“It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with it,” Michelle assured her. “You just

never said anything about it before.”

“Well, I guess it’s kind of geeky, so I didn’t mention it,” Lena admitted.

“It’s not that geeky. Actually, I think I’d like to borrow this Mara book after

you’re done, if you don’t mind,” Angie said.

“Oh, absolutely!” Lena grabbed a shirt from her closet and slipped it over

her head. “Hey, can I ask you guys something?”

“Of course. We’re all Beta Gamma sisters, right?” Michelle said.

“There was this really cute guy working at the comic shop. Do you think I

should just ask him out, or should I drop hints to get him to ask me?”

“I would just ask him,” Angie said. “Don’t mess around. Just cut to the chase.

“I’m with Angie. Go for it,” Michelle agreed.

“That’s what I was thinking, too, but I’ve never actually asked a guy out

before,” Lena confessed.

“You know, a few weeks ago I would have been kind of shy about it, too,”

Angie said. “But since I joined Beta Gamma, I feel a lot more self confident. Not

just my feet are free now, but the rest of me is, too.”

“I feel that way, too,” Michelle said. “I mean, I’ve asked guys out before,

but since I became a Beta Gamma, my confidence is way up.”

“Remember a month ago, when both of us were afraid to even show our bare

feet to other people?” Angie said.

“Yeah, now I hardly think anything of it,” Lena chuckled.

“That’s right, girl. If you can walk through the world barefoot, you can ask

some guy out on a date,” Michelle said.

“I’m going to do it!” Lena affirmed.

Part 3

The next day, Mark was back behind the counter at the comic store. Every

time the door opened, he eagerly hoped it would be the barefoot girl, but so far, no

luck. At least Theo hadn’t been around. Mark had even had a dream about the

barefoot girl last night, a very pleasant dream. He sighed as he thought about it.

Then, the door opened again, and Mark looked over, bracing for disappointment.

Yes! It was her. She smiled and he smiled back. She was a little more dressed up

today, nicely accentuating her curves. Most importantly, though, she was still barefoot.

“Hi, there. Welcome back. Did you enjoy that book?” Mark asked.

“Very much. Thanks for the recommendation,” she said. She padded right

over to the counter. Damn, those bare feet were nice!

“I went ahead and ordered the other Mara volumes, just in case you would

want them. No obligation, of course,” Mark said

“Great. I’ll take them,” she said, batting her eyes. Was she flirting with him?

Mark’s pants started to feel tight again.

“Cool, uh, they’ll be here in a couple of days,” Mark managed to get out.

“Sounds good. My name’s Lena, by the way. What’s yours?” She leaned in

closer to him, placing her elbows on the counter, and resting her chin on her hands.

“Mark,” he said, keeping his cool. She had to be flirting with him. If this was

another dream, he didn’t want to wake up. “Lena’s a nice name. I like it.”

“Thanks. Mark’s a good name, too. Can I ask you a question?” she said, coyly.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No, not currently.”

“Well, then, would you like to go out with me this weekend?” she purred.

Mark was so thrilled, he nearly hit the ceiling. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he

was able to say.

“Friday at seven okay with you?”

“Perfect.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “Here’s my number.

Give me a call tonight.”

“Will do,” he confirmed.

“Talk to you then,”she said, and headed for the door. Mark watched her go,

fixated on those gorgeous soles. After she was gone, he let out a deep breath. He

was going out with Lena, the gorgeous barefoot girl, and she had put the moves on

him! Could this week get any better?

Outside, Lena felt like she was ten feet tall. She had never been so bold with

a guy before, and it had turned out great. And it was all thanks to the confidence

her bare feet gave her. Life was good when a girl was free of shoes and socks!

Part 4

Friday night, Lena looked herself over in the mirror. Angie and Michelle had

helped her pick out a new outfit the day before; a lime green t-shirt style blouse, a

lightweight black sweater and a knee length black skirt. Lena thought she looked pretty

good. For her feet, she had chosen some classy barefoot sandals, which were really

just a strap which wrapped around the ankle, over the instep and looped over her second

toe. The sole was left completely bare, as she wouldn’t have it any other way. Lena

normally wouldn’t have bothered with the barefoot sandals, but she didn’t want anything

to screw up this night, especially not some pushy restaurant manager or waiter. The

strappy little things wouldn’t fool anyone on close inspection, but they would satisfy

a quick glance, which is all most people ever did.

Lena had also gone with an silver charm ankle bracelet on her left leg. The

little toe rings with stars on them adorning the middle toe of each foot completed the

look. Lena wiggled her toes with anticipation. She was all dressed up and had a place

to go.

There was a knock at the door, right on time. Lena gleefully skipped to the

door, but then got herself under control. She opened the door, leaning against the

frame and smiling seductively. Mark did a double take. He had thought Lena was

gorgeous the first time he saw her, but tonight she just looked amazing.

“Wow, you look great,” he said. “Oh, um, these are for you.” He handed her

a bouquet of roses he had brought.

“Thank you! They’re beautiful,” she said. “By the way, you look pretty great

yourself.” Mark blushed a bit. He had taken a little effort to look sharp in a nice dress

shirt and slacks, so he was glad she noticed. Lena put the roses in some water, then

grabbed her little clutch purse.

“Ready to go?” she purred.

“Absolutely,” he said. He offered her his arm, and she took it as they left the

apartment. Tonight, Mark felt like the luckiest guy alive.

Dinner went well. The restaurant was a little pricey for Mark’s budget, but

you only got one chance at a first date, and he wanted it to be special.

After, dinner, Lena and Mark had ended up walking around the Midwestern

State campus, just talking and enjoying each other’s company.

“So, anyway, I’m doing the part-time student thing, and working at the comic

shop. Next year, I’m hoping for a scholarship so I can take a few more classes,” Mark explained.

“That’s awesome. I’m sure you’ll get it,” Lena told him. She was really starting

to like Mark a lot, and she sensed he was feeling the same way about her. “Hey, let’s

sit for a minute.” She led him over to a little grassy hill. They sat directly on the grass,

though Lena was careful not to let her skirt ride up too much. She didn’t want to

appear too forward, at least not yet. She slipped off the barefoot sandals. “Don’t need these

anymore,” she said, stuffing the straps in her purse. “I prefer the all bare look anyway.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mark agreed. “Um, I mean, because you have very nice feet.”

“Thanks. I didn’t used to think so, but they’re starting to grow on me.”

“So, I’ve been wondering, did you just start doing the barefoot thing when you

joined the Beta Gammas, or did you do it before?”

“Oh, definitely before. I’ve always been a barefoot girl, though I appreciate it

even more since joining Beta Gamma. I grew up on a farm, and we were country,

but not redneck, if you know what I mean.”

He nodded.

She continued. “My parents split up when I was pretty young, though my dad

was around and always helped to support me. I lived with my mom on the farm, and

it was great, because she didn’t have to work. She had inherited a lot of farmland

from my grandparents, and we just lived off the rent that other farmers paid to use it.

That was perfect, because I think my mom hates shoes and socks more than anything.

Anytime she has to wear them, it puts her in a bad mood. Living in the country, and

not having to work, gave her the opportunity to go barefoot pretty much all the time.

We were far enough south that even winters weren’t too cold, so it was barefoot year

round. I just kind of followed in Mom’s footsteps. She couldn’t stand shoes, so she

wasn’t going to make her daughter wear those things.”

“Your mom sounds pretty cool,” Mark said.

“Yeah, she’s awesome. Whenever I would have friends over, she would say

things like ‘get those things off your feet and let them breathe’ or ‘if you wear shoes

too much, your feet will rot off.’ Just about everybody ended up barefoot at our

house, as you can probably imagine. I think that for Mom, even seeing other people

wear shoes and socks made her uncomfortable, especially in her own house.”

“That’s funny,” Mark said.

“Yeah, it is. So, anyway, I got to grow up pretty much shoe and sock free,

except for school, of course. I just thought that was the life. Then, when I was

fourteen, Mom and I were in town on a Saturday, getting some groceries. I was just

hanging out outside the store, barefoot of course, when this boy I kind of had a crush

on rode up on his bike. He saw me, and said ‘man, you really ought to cover up

those ugly country feet.’ I was devastated. You know, at that age, you’re so sensitive

to everything. So, after that, I tried to keep my feet covered up whenever I was around

other people. I still went barefoot all the time at home, but I just got shy about my

feet anywhere else.”

“That’s hard to believe, seeing you now,” Mark laughed.

“I know, right? It was the Beta Gammas that got me over it. My friend, Angie, especially. Now I’m loving showing off my feet.”

“I can tell. And by the way, that kid you had a crush on? He didn’t know

what the hell he was talking about.”

Lena blushed a bit. “Thanks. I can tell you’re a guy who appreciates feet.”

“You could say that. I’ve just always had this thing about barefoot girls,

especially the ones who do it in places where it’s not ‘normal.’ A barefoot girl is

strong, rebellious, sexy, innocent and vulnerable, all at the same time. It’s a

powerful mix,” Mark explained. “They’re a rare breed, and maybe that’s why

you’re so special.”

“What a wonderful thing to say,” Lena told him. She decided to take a

chance and leaned toward Mark, planting a passionate kiss directly on his mouth.

He didn’t pull away. In fact, he laid back on the ground, pulling her with him.

They held the kiss for a long time. Lena’s ever bare toes curled in delight.

Part 5

A couple of weeks had passed, and Mark and Lena had spent most of their

free time together since that first date. Today, they were in Mark’s apartment

watching a movie. Lena lay on the couch, her feet in Mark’s lap. He gently stroked

her feet, exploring every centimeter of their surface with his fingers, a slight bulge

developing in his pants. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. His touch felt so good.

She felt something stirring throughout her

body. Her eyes flew open. This was the day. She shifted her right foot away from

his hand and toward the bulge in his pants. Starting with the heel, she

worked the entire sole of her foot over his manhood. When she reached the toes,

she stopped, flexing them across the now rock hard appendage. He turned to her

and their eyes locked. The gleam he saw in her beautiful orbs told him that

something special was about to happen. Her nearly prehensile toes took hold of his

zipper, slowly pulling it down. Then, she plunged her toes inside his pants and

through the open fly of his boxers. Mark nearly hit the ceiling from the pleasure

of the flesh to flesh contact.

“What do you say we go to the bedroom?” Lena purred. Mark shot to his

feet, and helped her up. She hugged him, and wrapped her legs around his body.

They rolled onto his bed, frantically removing each other’s clothes.

“Have you done this before?” Lena breathed.

“A couple of times,” Mark replied. He was no stud, but he had a little success

with women in his nineteen years.

“I haven’t. But, I’m glad you’re going to be my first,” she smiled.

They made sweet, passionate love. Just as with their first kiss, feeling Mark

inside of her made Lena’s toes curl in sweet, blissful delight once again.

#barefoot sorority

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theworstbob · 7 years

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the thing journal, 3.26.2017

review-like bitlets of the 7+ new things i took in last week.

this week: the bombpops, lupe fiasco, 10 cloverfield lane, andrew mcmahon, halocene, the age of spin, the menzingers, beauty & the beast (2017). if you’re spoiler-averse, maybe don’t check out what i have to say about 10 Cloverfield Lane?

1) Fear of Missing Out, by The Bombpops: This album feels like home. I stumbled across this band because I was trying to find pop/punk acts with female involvement/influence, because hey maybe if I'm going to be writing extensively about the genre I should know more than three punk acts with girls in them? And I heard some song they made in 2012 or so and was impressed enough, and then I learned they had an album drop THIS YEAR! And I came away really impressed, especially by the title track. A lot of this album is love songs and break-up songs that are meant to get precisely at my nostalgic sweet spot AND I AIN'T MIND THAT ONE GOT DAMN BIT but "F.O.M.O." is an astoundingly mature song. I might be misinterpreting things, but it sounds like the band's thinking about where they're at in their music career, and how long they can continue keeping up the party before they realize they've seen/done everything and have to pack it in, it's this really cool blend of energy and introspection, and it gets me at this point in my life where I'm kind of in the same place except I've never made anything as dope as this album, but like I get that line, "I work at 9 AM, but I'm still throwing up." Never, um, Never quite been there myself, but I get what it's like to go to your normal job after throwing yourself into the thing that doesn’t give you health insurance. Even beyond that, there's a lot that I absolutely fucking love about this album, and I'm glad to have found it.

2) DROGAS Light, by Lupe Fiasco: From what I'd heard, I was prepared for this to be Certainly An Album, but I'm here to tell you: it's not that up its ass! It's still there, but only as far as your standard Lupe Fiasco album. It's not Tetsuo & Youth, but I'm not gonna be angry at an album for not being a masterpiece, y'know? I don't think it's inaccessible or overly self-indulgent, but y'know what, seeing that I had to type “not inaccessible or overly self-indulgent,” I'm willing to admit I'm something of a Lupe stan, and I could see how this album cover could appear for the non-believers as a glowing neon sign that says FOR SUPER-FANS ONLY, so I'ma hold off on recommending it. Hell, I'm not sure how often I'm gonna come back to this one. It's fine! Don't take my word for it, though. I'm an unreliable source.

3) 10 Cloverfield Lane, dir. Dan Trachtenberg: That first scene after the title card is so fucking good. The set design for Mary Elizabeth Winstead's room is on point, there's this stain on the ceiling that is never explained, the way there's like two different walls, it really feels like a hovel (and that makes the reveal of the rest of the shelter so much more interesting, how the parts of the room John Goodman designed for himself are so involved and furnished and filled with love, and then MEW's room is clearly just the pit where he keeps girls), but the way it's shot in that scene is insane. They make it feel like the largest room in the world when MEW's trying to reach for her clothes and phone, and then the space tightens up COMPLETELY the second we hear John Goodman's footsteps. The suspense in that scene is palpable, and the film more or less maintains it through the entire film. (More or less. Boy, that scene where they're playing Taboo is ham-fisted! "Hu-durr, what word is woman? I know it's been established I'm pretty much a pedophile, but I also don't know the word 'woman!'") And even though the movie largely takes place in the bunker, every scene in the bunker manages to feel like it takes place somewhere different. I'm not even getting into how this is an entire movie about three people in one location in a wide-release, brand-name sci-fi film, where the stakes are almost the smallest possible: leave the house, stay alive. Even if I didn't like it, I would still defend this film, because more like it need to exist.

4) Zombies on Broadway, by Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness: Boy, there sure is a lot happening in every single second of this record! I'm sure this arena pop would play well in, y'know, an arena, but it doesn't make for the calmest listening experience. It's really hard to find the heart of these songs, to find something to which I can connect, because there's so much overgrowth through which I need to cut. Weird Chainsmokers-y electronic influence here, overdramatic Coldplay flourishes there, vocals always always at 100, it's all So Much. I know there's a lot of heart here, this is a name I have trusted since I was a kid, but this album is so disorienting, I can’t even tell where to begin looking for that heart.

5) Can You Hear Us Now? by Halocene: oh sure yeah probably a lot of merit in evaluating a six-year-old pop/punk album On the plus side, because 2011 is one of those years where I was still committed to buying music instead of paying a flat monthly fee to have everything all the time forever but also was incredibly poor, this currently ranks as one of my Top 10 albums of 2011! Congratulations! I could see 2011 Bob touting the virtues of this album, though, there's a lot of charm, a lot of potential, enough cool things happening I'd be stoked to hear a full album of Halocene originals in 2017. But yeah I'm only here to say, hey, this is one of the albums I listened to this week, but I'm not gonna go all in on a debut album from 2011 because why, like yay active listening never stop thinking and all that, but what good would putting opinions on this into the world do anyone. What good have any of our opinions done, if we're being perfectly frank. Can You Hear Us Now? is the early front-runner for the title of "Most Innocuous Thing to Send Bob! Into an Existential Tailspin" for 2017.

6) The Age of Spin, by Dave Chappelle: BOY AM I OUTTA MY DEPTH WITH THIS ONE Like I thought it was kind of unfocused, but that's to be expected, it'd been years since Chappelle had to structure an hour of stand-up. I think Chappelle knows that, at this point, the mythology surrounding him is what people want him to talk about, and he's at his best here when he follows that arrow. When he's not talking about his own celebrity, the special falls flat; bits offering social commentary don’t hit, because they're the opinions everyone expects a 40+-year-old comic who was, literally, out of touch for several years to have, and they feel perfunctory, like Chappelle knows he doesn't have anything worthwhile to say about transsexuals, but he has to say it because people expect him to comment on the state of the world in 2017. But the bits about him -- bombing so hard in Detroit it goes viral, meeting OJ Simpson, his relationship with Kevin Hart ("That was a surprise to me. He charges $125 a ticket? I only charge $80!"), reconciling what Bill Cosby means to him with who Bill Cosby is, they're so good, well worth wading through clumsy throwaway jokes. It's not Chappelle at his best, but it's Chappelle.

7) After the Party, by The Menzingers: Punk is sort of becoming the millennial country, listen I know that's a bad sentence but you see it's a sentence I thought and I need on the record all the terrible things I think so that you may paint an accurate and complete picture of who I am and I’m making myself own it, punk is the millennial country! There's a lot of dope country artists, but even the good ones are still making music about being farmers and drinking whiskey. Punk music is in this groove where there's so many bands talking about issues people might actually be going through. This album references having useless college degrees, working at a job that doesn't guarantee hours, still sitting in basements getting high in your 30s, meeting up with an old friend who got their life together and remembering a youth spent sneaking out of church, seeing the foreclosure sign outside your childhood home, it's as country as anything can be while being so about city life. It's an album about what the new working class goes through. The band is thinking The Hold Steady and Springsteen, and of course they are, but albums like this are what can help bridge the gap between the Real America crowd and those goddamned millennials.

8) Beauty & the Beast (2017), dir. Bill Condon: So like my problem with these movies is, and this is prolly just me and I'm cool with that, I get that they're wondrous experiences, but I can never stop thinking about an actor sitting in the middle of a wide expanse of green, reacting to nothing. It's one of the reasons why I stopped watching Game of Thrones despite knowing some of it is filled on location, and it's what removed me from this film, watching the "Be Our Guest" sequence and thinking "she's looking at a marker" every time they cut to Emma Watson laughing. I'm never going to understand why these films try to split CGI and live-action down the middle, but a lot of people evidently dig it, so clearly the problem is with BIG FANCY BOB, WHO LISTENS TO FILM PODCASTS AND THINKS HE CAN HAVE OPINIONS. BAD OPINION BOY, THAT'S WHAT BOB STANDS FOR. Also, for all the talk of how gay this movie was, this movie wasn't nearly gay enough. It could have been, like, three times as gay, and it still wouldn't have been gay enough, that's how straight this movie was. ("What amount of gay would've been right?") I don't know, I would have had to have been involved with the editing process, this is sort of a "say when" situation.

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