#i think keith is just like me. in that he would put a piece of chocolate in a marshmallow and then cook it

[bleh1bleh2]

S'mores !!!!

[marleyybluu]

Another Man's Treasure

Oscar Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 6.8k (I am so sorry lmao)

Warnings: 18+, shitty husband, smut, p in v, unprotected (but pls don't be this stupid), creampie, dirty talk, cheating (but is it really if your husband is an ass), flirting, fluff, love at first sight type shit, Spanish/English pet names (pretty lady, hermosa, cariño), limited use of y/n(I literally used it once) idk lmk if I missed any.

(I only mention the first song but the other two are more for the… spicy scene😏)

——

The only escape from reality you had was the small moments of disassociation you had between the screaming of your children and the-

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

The shouting of your overgrown child of a husband playing his stupid games on his stupid PS5 that you wanted to set on fucking fire. This is not the life you pictured as a stay-at-home mom, yes the piles of dirty laundry were expected, and the mountainous dishes in the sink but you never predicted you'd be doing this alone. Your own mother stayed at home with you and your two brothers but your dad would still help her around the house so that she got the time to kick her feet up and relax.

You never got that.

You were living with this dark cloud over your head and deep regrets in your mind, why did you marry this man? You did think he was the love of your life, three years together before you got married proved your theory but never did you think it was going to end up like this. The amount of work you did was overwhelming, just one look at the number of toys on the floor made tears sting your eyes. You were tired, exhausted, drained and absolutely depleted.

If this was a job, you'd quit, you would take your children and quit. You wanted to so badly but the small hope of him changing clung to you like a piece of lint. You sighed holding your eleven-month-old on your hip while you made him a bottle, anything to keep him from wailing in your ears-- Jesus, half the time you couldn't hear.

"Babe!"

Your eyes rolled, you loathed his voice at this point. "What?"

"Can you pass me a water bottle?"

"Get up and get it, I'm making Malakai a bottle."

He groaned. "For fuck sake, you're in the kitchen already."

Your nostrils flared, and your eye twitched. You wanted to cuss at him, shout at him until your voice box shattered but you kept whatever calm you had left and ignored him. A small hand landed on your nose and you smiled kissing the tiny palm. "I love you too bubba."

He flashed a little smile and your heart sobbed at the fact that your last baby was growing so fast, teeth already emerging from his gums when just months ago he didn't have any. You could never regret your three little creatures, you loved them dearly, so much so you were willing to put up with the man that helped you create them just so they could have a two-parent household but you didn't know how much longer you could take this.

Heavy footsteps trailed inside the kitchen, you could tell he was angry at the fact that he had to pause his little game just to grab some water. He looked over the sink, utterly disgusted by the site in front of him and instead of just keeping his mouth shut or for once volunteering to do them he decided to spit out a sentence that made you want to knock his head off with the glass bottle you were holding; "You need to wash the dishes."

Your blood was boiling, if life was a cartoon you'd have steam coming out of your ears. "Why don't you get off of the game and do them?" You bit.

He cracked open the bottle cap. "Hey, I'm the one that works all week, you just stay home and do nothing."

Nothing? NOTHING!?

That was it.

That was the tip of the iceberg.

Your shoulders dropped and he left the kitchen, there was that ringing in your ears again that came and went every time you zoned out. Ever since you got married you'd felt nothing but unappreciated by him, you quit your job to stay home with your children and not even a thank you, you made sure he had a good meal when he went to work and all you got in return was an "it was okay." And the disgustingly dirty dish tossed right in the sink you'd just emptied. You were at the end of your rope.

You held back your tears and lightly kissed your son on his head handing him his bottle and putting him on a beam bag so he could lay down and drink. You trotted upstairs to check in on your oldest twins who were in their room colouring and getting along for once. Then you headed to the bathroom locking the door behind you, your body sliding down to the floor, you curled up in a ball burying your head between your knees you let out a long and heavy sigh before your river of tears took over.

A cry session your body and mind were so used to. You wailed into the void, muffling your weeps so that your children wouldn't hear you and come asking what was wrong, a question you couldn't answer without them turning on their father and you didn't want to ruin that relationship they had with him.

You were just so tired.

--

As night fell you remained mute when it came to your husband, whatever he had to say you didn't respond to, you were just happy that it was Sunday and soon he'd be out of your face for a few hours.

With the kids all asleep you were in the kitchen on FaceTime with your older brother. "The kids are great, they're sleeping." You conversed.

"And how have you been?"

There was no hiding how you felt when it came to your siblings, you were the baby and the only girl so when you were hurt they knew and they'd do whatever they could to fix it. "I'm okay... I'll be okay." You reassured. He was the only one who knew some small details about what you were going through and you begged him not to say anything not even to your mother until you figured out how to deal with everything yourself.

"Hey, listen, Jordyn is going on vacation next week, she's hitting Fiji, and I think you should go with her."

You squinched up your face, you didn't have a problem with your brother's wife, always so thankful for the sister you never got but what about your kids? Could you even trust that man to take over your duties even for a day?

As if he read your mind he continued. "I mean it'll be summer break next week, and they can stay by me if you want. I just, I really think you need time away from life. I want to see my little sister happy."

You pouted, it really touched your heart how concerned he was. A vacation would be wonderful, it was all you could dream of after the kids were born, you loved them but you just wanted to be by yourself.

"I'll think about it."

"Well, don't think too hard." He joked. "Whatever. I gotta get their lunches together, I'll call you when I make my decision."

"Sounds good, night."

"Night."

The call ended and you finished packing the twins' lunch placing the bags on the only empty spot on the counter. You huffed at the dishes and your husband's words replayed in your head. Nothing. You do absolutely nothing.

The longer you stared a vengeful plan began to brew. You were about to show him what doing nothing meant.

--

You decided you were going on that trip, Jordyn was excited and your brother was happy with your choice. The week flew by quickly, you kept up your normal appearance of keeping the house clean and to your husband's liking and by each day you grew more distant from him not like he cared in the first place.

On the last day of school you explained to the twins that you were taking a trip with Aunty Jordyn and they, unfortunately, couldn't come but they'd be staying with their uncle and they'd loved that man to death so they were excited either way. Your house was a mess and for once you smiled at it, you'd been letting everything pile up for the last two days, packing the clean clothes they did have in advance. The only explanation you gave your husband was that they were all staying by your brother for the week but you didn't mention that you weren't coming back.

You were leaving tonight and there would be no stopping you. You loaded the van with their stuff and yours and hollered for them to get their little butts in the car. "Last one in the car has stinky feet!" You laughed at the building volume of stomping feet coming across the hall and down the stairs, your twins were out and your youngest sat on your hip giggling at their antics. You happily wrote a short note.

Bye.

That's it.

You showered your baby in kisses and grabbed your keys before heading out the door, you locked it and made your way to the car, buckling in your baby and making sure the other two were in securely. You closed the door and first time in a long time you felt a weight off your shoulders, you smiled in satisfaction at how you left the house knowing you were not going to answer a single phone call from that man.

--

Jordyn squealed. "Ugh! I am so excited I don't even know what to do with myself!" You laughed at her enthusiasm as you put your hair up in a ponytail. It was day 2 of your trip and you were living life, you couldn't remember the last time you felt this relaxed. Now, of course, you missed your children it'd been the longest you'd ever been apart from them so you were a bit clingy with the calls but it was all understandable.

You two were hitting the beach today and you were a bit nervous, nobody had seen your body in almost a year not even your husband but Jordyn had persuaded you to find your behind in a two-piece bikini and you argued that you'd wear it as long as you could wear a cover-up so it was a deal. You looked yourself over in the mirror, you felt oddly confident. You looked fucking good. Three kids did your body right.

"You sure you want that cover-up?" She teased watching you admire yourself. "Hmm," You angled your lower half so you could check out your bum, how plump it had become over the years. "Maybe not."

She winked. "That's my girl."

You two grabbed what you needed and headed down to the beach which was right in front of the hotel you were staying at. The slight wind brushed against the water sending a cool and comforting breeze your way, your ears wiggled at the sound of the waves, and the giggles of other vacationers enjoying their time like you were.

The cushiony sand had greeted your toes after overflowing onto your sandals. You two travelled until you found a decent spot, it was close to the bar and the body of water. You set up your area as best as you could but you were in a battle with the beach umbrella Jordyn insisted on bringing. She watched with her hand covering her mouth to camouflage her laughter. "Okay, you know what, I'll handle this and you go handle us some drinks."

You childishly stuck out your tongue and strutted your way over to the bar, you hopped on an available stool. The bartender noticed you asking for you to just give him a minute. "No worries." You responded. You went on your phone and checked the many pictures your brother sent of your children, you smiled and a bit of sadness tugged at your heart. You missed your babies dearly.

The number of messages went up and it could only be one person. You promised you wouldn't look but you just had to, you swiped and tapped on your husband's name.

Where the fuck are you!?

The house is a fucking mess!

I'm not cleaning up, I hope you know that.

Baby, come on, we can work this out. Please.

You scoffed at the last message and put your phone down casually being greeted by the bartender who watched your various emotions while you went through your phone. "Everything's okay?"

Oh. Wow.

He presented a sweet smile, your eyes slightly widening at the sight in front of you. He was handsome, scratch that, he was fine as fuck. The shaved head didn't usually work on a lot of men but it did him justice, the scattered tattoos on his pretty and tanned skin, his broad shoulders that looked like they were made for legs to be hooked on and not to mention his big arms that looked like they could hold you snug and tight all through the night.

"Uh, yeah, everything's... everything is good." You stammered, a queasy feeling crept through you as it settled in your lower stomach. Butterflies? But you couldn't even remember what that felt like in order to come to that conclusion.

"Good to know. What can I get you, ma?"

You shuddered at his voice. He could talk to you all day.

"One Long Island, and one Piña Colada please."

He nodded. "Starting off slow I see." He chuckled. "Eh, we're on vacation, gotta soak it all up before we go back."

"I see," He multitasked making your drinks and conversing. "And when does the pretty lady go back?"

You blushed, should you even tell this literal stranger when you're actually leaving? But he felt... comfortable, easy to talk to and it's not like you'd ever see him again. "End of the week."

"Oh, you have plenty of time to get shit-faced." He encouraged. He'd finished your order and placed the liquored-down drinks in front of you. "Don't worry about paying yeah? It's on the house. Enjoy your vacation pretty lady."

"Y/n... you could just call me Y/n."

Not like you wanted him to, pretty lady was working just fine

"Nice to meet you. Oscar... Diaz." He winked. "Thanks, for the drinks."

"Anytime, pretty lady."

Your legs felt wonky as you walked away, and your breathing quickened. You did your best to walk back to Jordyn without looking back, if you did you were pretty sure you'd fall, just clumsy as fuck. "Girl, that man was watching you walk away." She whispered. "Stop." You poked, shoving her drink toward her. "Oh please, his eyes were on you." Jordyn gazed over to the bar, "He's still staring."

You casually whipped your head around and sucked your teeth when you noticed he wasn't. You glared at her. She snickered taking a sip from her Long Island. "Makes good drinks too."

You sighed, "Shut up."

The topic was silenced, you downed a few more drinks but sent Jordyn to get them instead while you swam around in the cooling water, floating around enjoying the peace the water brought you. But you couldn't help but occasionally look over to the bar. Oscar Diaz... nice name. Nice face. Cute little moustache that sat above his lips and a goatee that sat below. Pretty rosy pink lips...

Your eyes darted away. You're married.

Are you though?

You swam back up to the beach, it was beginning to get dark and the patrons on the beach became scarce. You wrapped yourself in a towel and collected anything Jordyn hadn't packed up yet. "You want one more drink before they close up? Maybe your new friend will allow it." She teased. You took off your flip-flop and threw it at her but your reaction only made her laugh.

A familiar voice was heard behind you. "So she's beautiful and she's got good aim, better watch out." 

You quietly gasped. "Hi... Oscar."

"Hey, uhm, listen I own a club not too far from here and you know it's a decent hangout for the locals... and the visitors." He winked. "Wanted to know if you two would like to come check it out?"

You fought back a smile. "We could try." You answer without even thinking. "I'll take that," He reached into his pocket handing you a folded piece of paper, you assumed had the address of the place he owned. Your fingers brushed against his, prickles felt like they were forming on your skin and those weird feelings returned in your lower stomach.

He sent you another wink and headed back off to the bar to close up.

--

Of course, Jordyn was down to go. You groaned internally as you two pulled up to a crowded place, looking up at the illuminated sign reading Cloud 9. Hmm, cute. You pulled down your dress as it rose up with each step, your heels clicking against the cold ground, the music booming so loud you could feel your body vibrating the closer you got to the entrance, flashing lights of different colours beamed through the door every time it opened blinding whoever entered. "Where's your friend?" Jordyn asked. "Have patience, I just told him we got here."

"Mhm." She sassed. Your heart thumped in your ears, it pounded against your chest. What were you doing? It was a question you asked yourself from the moment you got back to your room and began to get ready for tonight. You shook off your thoughts and shifted your eyes over to a black door that slowly began to open. "Hey, over here." Oscar waved you two over and you followed. "What's going on, pretty lady?... And pretty lady's friend."

Jordyn nodded at him as a silent greeting, she was just here to observe your anxious behaviour for her entertainment. "Come on," You followed him through a dimly lit hallway and up a flight of stairs, your nerves building and sudden regret forming in your bones until you entered a brighter atmosphere, the loud music returning to your eardrums. He had led you two to a section that only had a few people, you could assume it was the VIP section.

"Anything you two want to drink just let me know and I got you."

Jordyn raised her eyebrows at the tempting bottle of unopened champagne sitting in a bucket of ice. Oscar chuckled granting her permission to open it, she shimmied her shoulders in excitement and got to work. You shook your head at her, you travelled over to the balcony and looks down at all the patrons having the time of their lives, a few familiar faces from the resort and others that weren't recognizable which you could only assume were locals.

Oscar found his place beside you and nudged your shoulder with his. "You want anything to drink?"

"No, not yet, I'm good."

He slowly nodded. "So, what are you doing in Fiji? Besides vacationing."

You huffed, "I just needed time to myself... to get away from shit."

"I hear that." You could just feel those sweet and curious brown eyes boring into the side of your head, you poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue and looked down at your shoes, just anything to not make eye contact with him. You were shy, you were never shy not even with your husband when you first met him. It's like this was a new feeling, you were queasy and nervous and it honestly felt good in a weird way-- it felt good to not be comfortable, to get all flustered over someone like a schoolgirl crush.

"You really own this place?"

He scrunched up his face. "Half own, I guess. My brother and I came here for an escape just like you and we ended up staying. Now, we own Cloud Nine and I work down at the resort once in a while."

"Oh, you're a busy man."

"I try to be." Oscar chuckled. He was so easy to talk to, why was he so easy to talk to?

You found yourself moving a bit closer. "What were you trying to escape from?"

"Life. I wasn't happy where I was living and I wanted better but... given the circumstances, we just couldn't get it. So I threw a dart on a map, so to speak, it landed on Fiji and we've been here ever since."

"Where are you from then?"

"Originally born in Mexico, we moved to LA, and then out here."

"Would you ever go back to the States?" You asked finally looking up at him knowing he hadn't taken his eyes off you all night. He leaned forward, officially entering your bubble. "If I had a good enough reason... yeah."

You looked up at him through your lashes and softly smiled, meanwhile, Jordyn sat on the couch sipping and shaking her head at the sight in front of her. She would playfully scold you in the morning but tonight she'd let you have your harmless fun.

As the party went on you were getting a bit bored being upstairs so you grabbed your girl and headed downstairs to where the crowd was and of course Oscar was right behind you, he felt a sense of protection over you two tonight given this was your first time out here and inside his establishment. You had found enough confidence to start dancing around, a little two-step from left to right to get you going, but soon the constant flow of drinks Jordyn handed you helped you loosen out of that as well.

The DJ was beginning to play all the oldies, and that was your specialty. Oscar watched in adornment as you killed every lyric, every adlib and every beat to whichever song came on. It had transitioned from a bit of Hip-hop to something a lot slower.

  "Right now, we're gonna slow it down a bit, so grab your lovers and take your time."

The lights changed to blue and a recognizable first note had you close your eyes.

Mmm ooooh, my my my my my my my babyyy ouuuuuu

Jordyn had already found herself dancing with a random woman. She looked widened her eyes at you and quickly flicked them over to Oscar, trying her best to encourage you to make your move. But he was faster. You felt yourself being pulled into his warm embrace, his strong chest against your exposed back, his hands carefully snaking around your waist as if he was worried about you rejecting his touch but you gladly welcomed it.

Melting into his hold you two swayed side to side, he leaned down comfortably nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. You were lost in the vibes of Keith Sweat's Right and a Wrong Way. You reached back hooking your arm around his neck lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. "You smell so good, mamita." He whispered, it was a miracle that you heard him. Your lips parted slightly as you felt his warm breath tickle your skin. His swift hands ran up your sides resting right under your breasts and gliding back down to your hips.

A thumping began between your thighs, now that was something you hadn't felt in a long time. You put that feeling to the side no matter how hard it was to do so. The rest of the night it felt like all the songs were targeted for just you two, you hadn't eased up on him once-- always in close proximity to him. He touched you in simple ways, ways you hadn't been touched in almost a year.

It was getting super late, almost three in the morning and you couldn't recall the last time you were out like this, it'd give you hell when you woke up but it was worth it. You and Jordyn rode back to the resort with Oscar, she exited the car first thanking him for the night out and wobbling her way inside. You giggled watching her walk away, "I should get in there before she tries the key on the wrong room."

But you didn't want to leave him.

And he didn't want to leave you.

"Thanks for tonight, I had a lot of fun."

"No problem, anything to help a pretty lady escape." He bit his lip. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"Recovering," You laughed, "But other than that nothing."

"Can I see you again?"

You gulped and nodded. "Mhm."

He laid out his palm your eyebrows furrowed as you rested yours on top of his, he brought the back of your hand to his lips and placed such a gentle kiss on your skin. "Goodnight, mamita."

You wanted to scream. You left the car putting a little swing in your hips as you walked away, you looked over your shoulder and sent him a cute little wave before disappearing behind the doors.

— —

And that's how you spent the rest of your trip, shamelessly flirting with Oscar. You got to know each other a lot more, when you weren't spending time with Jordyn you were with him. Giggling like an airhead and blushing red like Rudolph's nose.

Jordyn constantly teases you about the crush you'd seem to quickly develop.

"Is this stupid?" You ask shoving your face in the pillow. This all felt too good to be fucking true, a guy that you met only four days ago was treating you so much better than the man you married four years ago. Oscar had flowers for you at the front desk of the resort every morning and sent you the sweetest messages throughout the day about how he was thinking of you, how he caught a glimpse of you today and you looked stunning, calling you the prettiest woman he'd ever seen step on this island.

You convinced yourself they were all lies, sugarcoating you like he probably did every woman but who were you fooling? Certainly not yourself and certainly not Jordyn.

"It's not."

"I'm married." You argued tiredly to which she fake yawned. "I don't see a ring on that finger and I don't see that man treating you any better than Oscar has. Just saying."

The fingers on your right hand brushed your vacant ring finger, you'd taken it off the minute you got on the plane, you didn't want to be reminded of him on this trip at all and yet there was that piece in the back of your mind that reached out to him. Checking his messages once in a while but never responding, he was giving you the attention you wanted but it didn't feel right.

The fact that you had to spontaneously leave to get even a fraction of what you were asking for was bullshit. Downright bullshit.

You groaned sitting up the pads of your fingers now rubbing your temples, tired and stressed. The trip was almost over and you dreaded going back to that house that was no longer a home. He'd sent you pictures that he'd finally cleaned up but you had a feeling once you returned home things would go back to the way they were and you did not want that.

"I think your brother would agree with me, you've smiled more in these past few days than I've seen back home, I mean you two are always so distant when you come over. And don't think I don't hear your rants when you and your brother are on the phone. Now I don't condone cheating but, hey, I didn't see shit."

You sighed checking your phone for any recent texts from your husband but Jordyn caught wind of what you were doing and snatched your device. "Enough with him. Flirt and have fun before you have to go back to normalcy."

You heard your phone buzz in her hand, she looked at the message for you. "Speaking of, someone is downstairs."

You felt nauseous. "Where are you two going anyway?"

"Down to the beach, said he has to restock the bar... and I wanted to spend time with him so I offered to help."

"Mhm." She winked. You grabbed your phone back from her grasp and told her you'd be back soon. You left your room, entered the elevator and headed downstairs where Oscar was happily waiting for you. "Hola querida." He become more comfortable speaking Spanish around you, especially when he noticed how the little nicknames got a reaction out of you.

"Hi," Oscar noticed the shaky tone in your response and made note of it You had comfortably slipped your hand inside his, he immediately hooked his fingers in the spaces of yours. Like he was your puzzle piece.

You two headed down to the decent-sized Hut, your eyes widened at the number of boxes sitting on the sand. "Don't worry, I got the heavy bottles, you just get the small ones." He reassured pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You loved those, so innocent and sweet, although you wish sometimes he'd kiss you on your lips or you had to courage to kiss his. "Think I can't handle the big boxes?" You scoffed walking inside after him.

"I think you can, I just don't think my pretty lady needs to."

My pretty lady.

ugh!

With music playing in the background you two got to work, "Do you still think about running your own restaurant?" You asked sparking a conversation, you squatted down to the lower shelves and propped the glass bottles in an organized fashion, eyes tearing through the material of your sundress and you could feel them. "I do, yeah. Why?"

You bit your lip. "Would it still be down here?"

There was a beat of silence. "Most likely."

Another pause in the moment aside from your soft humming to the music. "You excited to see your kids?" He asked. You smiled at the mere thought of them. "I am. My three little headaches." Oscar found himself next to you, leaning against the counter, you stopped your movements and looked up-- he had one arm folded over the other and a bit of a scowl on his face.

"What?" You innocently question standing up to match his eye line, well more-like chest line. "Nothing, just trying to take my time to remember this face." He reached for your cheek, his fingers ghosting your flesh. "You flirt like this with all the girls here?"

A question that was supposed to come out jokingly but you were a bit serious. "Nah," You squinted at him watching his lips press together, his chest stuttering as he held back a laugh. "You asshole, I knew it." A dramatic hand to your heart as you playfully pouted at him and fake cried. Oscar's arms enveloped you in their warmth, you attempted to push him off but it was no use, your feet suddenly off the ground, you squealed and giggled as he switched positions with you plopping you on top of the counter.

He placed his palms flat on the side of your thighs while he was positioned comfortably between them. "To be fair, hermosa, it is kind of my job. But believe me when I say I've never spent any time with them. And I've definitely never brought them back here after hours." His thumb and pointer finger pinching your chin. "Just you, princesa."

You melted, your whole body could be seen physically slumping in his hold. His eyes sparkled while he looked at you, the crinkles in his eyes appearing as he smirked. Before you could comprehend anything his lips brushed yours, your head suddenly becoming foggy with the inappropriate images of him that you'd conjured up these past few days.

His nimble fingers danced along the hem of your dress, a rush of heat passing over you as he hiked it up further exposing more of your flesh.

This was no longer a want... it was a need.

Your hands landed right under his jaw as you pulled him in crashing your lips onto his and he happily reciprocated your energy, his hands wandered up to your hips tugging you closer to him as if it were possible. Your lips moved as one, tongues passing by in the heat of the moment, the only thing on your mind was him and you wanted it to remain so for as long as possible.

Tingles scattered around your body, both of you flushed with lust and arousal. Your hands travelled to the bottom of his shirt quietly begging for him to take it off, you needed to feel his skin, thankfully he got the message-- pulling away for a brief moment to remove his top. Your eyes glazed over his lightly tanned skin, little scars here and there you can only presume he earned before he got here.

You smiled at the strewed ink on his torso, chest and ribs. "What are you thinking about?" He inquired. You looked back up into his brown iris'. "I wish I had met you first." You mumbled drawing him back down, this kiss was a lot more passionate and slow unlike the first.

Oscar's hands gently tugged at the neckline of your dress, your breasts spilling over and his calloused hands finding them. You softly moaned against his lips, your nipples hardening from the cool breeze and his fondling. He pinched and rolled them between his fingers, your head tipped back and his teeth nipped at the column of your neck.

You were forming a small pool in your panties at his teasing. His tongue grazed your neck continuously licking and sucking a specific spot that was getting a squirming reaction out of you. You felt his devilish smile, he knew what he was doing to you and he liked it.

His hands moved from torturing your swollen breasts back down to your thighs shoving your dress up until your little black panties were on display. You sat on the edge of the counter making it a bit easier for him to remove them, the cool air hitting your soaking slit.

"Touch me, please, touch me." You whined not caring about how desperate and needy you sounded. Oscar listened to your pleas and dipped one hand between your legs, his fingers quickly finding your slick folds. You shuddered as he glided two fingers up and down, dipping them inside you once in a while.

You were soaking, you were throbbing, and you just wanted him inside you where he fucking belonged. He slowly plunged his fingers inside, you clench around them happy to have something pleasuring you. Your eyes are closed and your legs spread further for him, nails digging into his shoulder blade hopefully leaving little indents.

He pumped them in and out of you with the squidgy noise of your wetness to follow. "Yes... oh yes, like that."

Oscar felt himself twitch under his boxers using his other hand to undo his belt and pulled down his materials. His dick is hard and his tip a rosy pink turning cherry red oozing with a bit of cream, his hips buckled once his hand brushed over it-- equally as desperate as you were. Your erotic moans were like music to his ears, so much sexier than he could've pictured. You whined once he removed them your hole flexing around nothing as you caught your breath.

Oscar hooked your legs over his arms spreading you to his desire, you reached between your bodies firmly (but not too tight) grasping his length and guiding it to your entrance, his swollen head prodding inside you as the rest of him followed.

Your jaw slacked at the feeling of him deliciously stretching you out, he was so thick and it felt so nice. Oscar croaked out a moan while burying himself deep inside your warmth-- coating his dick with your sticky walls, so slick and welcoming that he didn't want to move.

You caressed the back of his neck as he pressed another kiss on yours, trailing it up the side and finally landing on your mouth. You giggled into the kiss, Oscar pulled back with a questioning look. "I can't tell the last time I felt like this." You mumbled under your breath but he heard you. He didn't want you to leave, hell if you didn't have kids he'd probably try to convince you to move out here with him.

He didn't say anything in response just pulled out and pushed back in. "Fuck." You both moaned.

His head dipped back down, nibbling on your sweet skin.

You whimpered through every tantalizing stroke he gave you, his tip poking right at your hot spot and you knew you wouldn't last. "You feel so good!" A sentence broken by little gasps. Oscar grunted, violently gripping your thighs as he pounded you, pulling the filthiest sounds from your pretty little throat. So loud and erotic he was sure they could hear you back at the resort.

Your eyes squeeze in absolute bliss, your head hazy from the constant pleasure you received, quickly feeling a sensation in your lower belly a wave of heat threatening to take over. Your palm lay flat on his back while the other gripped the edge of the counter.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oscar!"

He lifted you off the counter a bit, relentlessly slamming into you now. Your high getting closer and closer. "I can, shit, I can feel you mamita. So fucking tight."

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled. "Baby, ohhh, I need to..."

Oscar smiled. "You wanna cum for me, baby? Come, mi amor, all of it."

His words tipped you off the edge, your back arched and your body trembled from the shockwaves of your orgasm, he held you closely revelling in your pulsating pussy dripping down his shaft.

He quickly brought you off the countertop, your wobbly legs barely holding your support. He turned you around, you barely recovered from the first position.

You were sensitive and extra wet just how he wanted you. You flinched when he pressed himself against your entrance once again, pushing in ever so carefully. "Fuck... you."

He laughed menacingly, his hands squeezing your hips. "That's what I'm doin' pretty lady."

You wanted to give him a smart-ass answer but it was cut short when he began to move. Your nipples were hard against the surface, you rested your head down and whined. "So fucking good."

"Yeah?" He chuckled spanking you. He was enjoying the pornographic sounds that you provided, all going straight to his dick.

He wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you up against him, back pressed on his chest, his warm breath in your ear. "Can't get enough of you I swear." He admitted.

He poked and prodded against that familiar spot, tears of overwhelming pleasure threatening to spill when he pinched your nipple. "Fuck! I'm gonna miss you, so fucking much."

"You gonna think about me?"

"Yes! Oh!"

You felt him twitch inside you, you smiled egging him on. "I won't stop thinking about you, when I touch myself I'll picture it's you-"

"Fuck, cariño,"

"Ou, you're the only one I want inside me."

You convulsed around him feeling another orgasm quickly building and getting ready to fall apart. A few more thrusts and Oscar held himself still inside you, your body shivering at the warm cream he just spilled inside you. His high triggering yours. You reached behind hooking your arm around his now sweaty neck.

The sound of the wind against the water and the waves crashing describe exactly how you felt right now.

"Oh... my god." You said breathlessly.

"You're okay?" He asked with a laugh. You giggled tipping your head back on to his shoulder. "Better than okay."

He sighed kissing your back. "I meant it..." You said.

"What?"

"I'm gonna miss you."

He smiled sheepishly. "I'll miss you too."

--

Those moments replayed in your head constantly, it was the only thing getting you by once you came back home. You two still talked every day, called and FaceTimed but it wasn't enough. You would stare at the prices of tickets and sigh, you couldn't afford to go back right now.

Your life was the same, unloved and unappreciated, despite the embarrassingly desperate messages your husband had sent when you were on your trip. You stared at another pile of dishes, your shoulder sinking with exhaustion. With your two older ones at school and your son almost an hour into his nap you decided to just relax. You clicked on Netflix and attempted to finish Bridgerton's, Queen Charlotte.

Your eyelids felt heavy, sleep threatened to take over but the doorbell had them shoot open. It wasn't just one ring it was multiple and it was annoying so you assumed it was your brother. You groaned trudging to the door. You swung it open aggressively, ready to give him a piece of your mind. "You're going to wake-"

There he was. Standing in front of you, on your doorstep... at your house. "O-Oscar..." You poked his chest to see if he was really there. "Said I'd come back when I have a good reason." Your eyes softened, your arms reaching for him. His lips immediately find yours. "I," kiss, "fucking," kiss "missed you."

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he stepped inside closing the door. He carried you over to the couch and plopped you on the cushions. You laughed, your mood immediately changing with him around. "Jordyn told you where I lived didn't she?"

He nodded. You rolled your eyes. "Of course."

"Not happy to see me?"

You pulled him down for another kiss.

"Beyond happy."

I was going to wait until the weekend to post this but I am a little too excited to get this out.

Shoutout to my girl @darqchilddaydreamz for her input on a few things and her encouragement. Holdin it down ✊🏾

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Alsooooo thank you for 800 followers, yall cool as fuck thanks for fucking with me and my antics.

Peace and love see you in the next one✌🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit

[cant-say-tomorrow-day]

guys hear me out HEAR ME OUT...

Dracula, but it's Smosh...

Dracula: Damien! Spookiest guy, vibes fit the best, and could probably do the most accurate accent if he chose to. Oh and there's also that recent Games video where he bites Keith, so... he has an audition tape.

Renfield: Tommy; my vision for this is that he plays him like he plays Mental Illness... "Helloooooo Dr. Seward, it is me, your mental patient! I am going to eat a rat now and you are going to watch! Teeheehee!"

Jonathan Harker: Shayne would be really great for this, honestly. I think he'd be able to play into the creeping fear slow descent into terror incredibly well. He makes the best bewildered expressions too.

Mina Harker: Courtney, and not just because of Shayne's role. They would kick some serious ass as Mina, I think seeing her as an investigative character who can put all the pieces together would be really cool.

Lucy Westenra: Amanda would get a kick out of three guys proposing to her, c'mon. Plus I think she would make the role really campy and play into the damsel aspects in such a silly way, it'd be so fun to see.

Arthur Holmwood: I want to say Trevor for this, mostly because he's always so fantastic in the Gentleman videos and I think he'd play up the aristocracy part of the character really well if we're going for a more comedic tone, which I think we are considering it's Smosh.

Dr. Jon Seward: Maybe a weird pick, but I want to see Angela for this. I just love the idea of her playing someone very practical and level-headed, and then getting more and more confused as the story goes on and shit just keeps getting crazier and more fucked up. She also has great chemistry with both Tommy and Angela. I could definitely see a case for casting Shayne here, though, if I didn't already have him as Jonathan Harker.

Quincey Morris: Spencer would be perfect, honestly. We've seen him do a southern accent a few times and it's always golden. I also think his sassiness and wit would really make the part stand out.

Van Helsing: I'm actually really stuck on this one. Damian would be perfect, if he wasn't already playing Dracula. So apart from that, my gut is actually telling me Anthony. I think that he has the right visual aesthetic for it, I think he'd have fun playing someone so cooky.

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura Movie Special Episode 1 (Novel) Translation

I Created a New Piece of Culture…

Author: Yamaguchi Satoru

I, Katarina Claes, was, since morning, happily working in the fields of the Claes house, when…

Geordo: Katarina, what are you doing?

Geordo, who had just arrived, called out to me like this.

Katarina: What I'm doing? I'm harvesting vegetables.

After I had cheerfully replied this, for some reason, Geordo put a hand on his forehead.

Geordo: No, I can tell this just by looking… Weren't we supposed to head to the Multaq caravan's tents today? And yet, why are you currently harvesting vegetables?

Katarina: Yes. I'm thinking of bringing my vegetables as a present to the caravan people, so I'm harvesting them.

Geordo: Bringing your vegetables… as a present?

Katarina: Yes, because freshly harvested vegetables are delicious.

I said this with a grin and next to me, Keith, who for some reason was making a tired face, said…

Keith: This morning, upon waking up, she seemed to have suddenly hit upon this idea, so she eagerly started harvesting vegetables like this.

…he said as if to add to what I said.

A while had passed since the arrival of the Mutlaq merchant caravan and the incident. With most of the reparations completed, I asked the caravan if we could watch their wonderful show again, and they agreed. So with everyone, we had planned to head to the caravan's tents together once we had all gathered at the Claes' house. I had prepared sweets to bring as a present, but in the morning, after I had woken up and looked at the garden bathed in beautiful weather, I could see my vegetables had ripened, so I had thought they would make the perfect gift and decided to harvest and bring them.

Good, they were perfectly ripe.  As I was grinning while looking at my freshly harvested vegetables,

Alan: Why the heck are you harvesting vegetables right now?

After saying mostly the same thing as his older brother, Alan arrived. Next to him, there was Mary, whom he was escorting.

Katarina: I will bring them as a present to the caravan people.

After giving him the same explanation I had given Geordo,

Alan: But a duke's daughter of Sorcier giving them vegetables, this is just weird. They will think things about it.

…he said while laughing.

Katarina: But there may be vegetables they can't eat in Mutlaq, and more than anything, my vegetables are delicious, so it should be fine.

After I had replied this, Mary backed me up.

Mary: I agree. They mentioned that cultivating crops on Mutlaq's land was difficult in many ways and that they only had a few types of vegetables, so I think vegetables would actually make for a fine present.

Oooh, I see. I didn't know that at all. But after hearing Mary's statement, Keith and Geordo, who had previously looked reluctant, now seemed to think that it could work. Thank goodness. 

Keith: But handing them vegetables like that is just…

After Keith had said this, Geordo also…

Geordo: I agree. Handing them vegetables like that lacks charm.

…he said. Hmm. It was true that normally handing them a basket might lack charm as a present. In that case,

Katarina: Please wait a bit.

After saying this, I grasped the basket containing the vegetables and returned to my room. There was a wrapping paper there that I had set aside thinking I might use it one day, so I cutely wrapped the basket with it. When I brought back my proud achievement to show it to everyone, the Ascart siblings, Sophia and Nicol, had just arrived.

Katarina: I'm thinking of bringing this as a present, what do you think?

I showed the wrapped present to the two of them. They couldn't see the content since it was enveloped in wrapping paper, so…

Sophia: What is it?

Sophia tilted her head. I told her "Just open it.", so Sophia said "In that case…" and carefully unwrapped the present.

Sophia: Eh?! Vegetables!

She was shocked.

Katarina: So? What do you think? Simply giving vegetables in a basket lacks charm so I tried wrapping them!

When I said this a little triumphantly,

Keith: In that case, just handling the vegetables in a basket would have been better.

Geordo: I agree. Their reaction when unwrapping the present and finding the vegetables inside will be awkward to deal with.

I got a "no" from Keith and Geordo. Alan just laughed like earlier, so I turned my gaze to the reliable Mary.

Mary: Well, this may indeed bewilder them a little.

I made her show a troubled face. And I thought it was a good piece of work. 

Sophia: But the wrapping itself was cute.

Sophia tried to make me feel better, and Nicol too,

Nicol: It reminded me of the vegetable bouquet you gave me before.

…he said.

Katarina: A vegetable bouquet?! It might be a good idea.

The vegetable bouquet that I had given Nicol at his graduation ceremony in place of a flower bouquet. It had looked quite nice.

It hadn't included a gorgeous lineup of seasonal vegetables, but right now, I felt like I could make a good vegetable bouquet.

I tried rolling the previously used wrapping paper around the vegetables to make a vegetable bouquet.

The result didn't look so pretty since I made it quickly, but I felt like it would look great if I did it with more care.

Katarina: How about like this? Doesn't it look better compared to earlier?

After I had said this while triumphantly holding out the vegetable bouquet, everyone said things like "Better than the wrapping earlier", "Better than the wrapped thing", and "Better than the thing that we can't tell what it is because it is wrapped". And finally, Maria, who had arrived last,

Maria: It reminds me of the graduation ceremony. It is lovely.

…she said, so my vegetable bouquet safely got a passing mark as a present to the caravan. And like this, my vegetable present which had stirred a little commotion, the vegetable bouquet, was safely offered to the Multaq caravan and…

?: Sorcier sure has a unique culture

?: A major power really has a culture unique to a major power.

They said these in admiration and accepted the vegetable bouquet as part of Sorcier's culture.

Keith: Why did you allow Big Sister's nonsense? It was because I had seen the complete wrapping beforehand that I felt like it could pass.

Geordo: Mutlaq ended up thinking that Sorcier had a strange culture. What should I do as a royal of Sorcier…

Keith and Geordo held their heads, overwhelmed by the situation, and the others were looking at something in the distance.

And like this, I created a new piece of culture in Sorcier: the vegetable bouquet.

[humbledragon669]

S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P2 - the Present Day up to the introduction of Maggie and Nina

Right, first thing I want to address straight off the bat (sort of – straight off the bat for a point where I have something I can use for comparison). I’ve always felt the colours in the second season are so much more vibrant than in the first. I’ve never been sure that it wasn’t just a case that the image quality was better – the placards are a great example of this, they’re so much crisper and finely detailed. But now I’m in full examination mode, I can look at the colour issue a little bit more.

I’ve tried, as best I could, to get two shots that are of the same location from each season – first on the left, second on the right. They’re not perfect comparisons, but without spending hours on this one little point, that’s all you’re getting. Maybe it’s the lighting, maybe it was the weather; whatever the reason the colours in the second season shots are definitely brighter, more vivid. I’d be interested to hear if other people felt the same way. Part of me wonders whether the use of brighter tones is directly related to the general mindset of our hero couple, seeing as they’re both very comfortable in their authority-free lives at the start of the second season.

Alright, next up – that one-shot that starts immediately after the end of the credits (which I absolutely love), going from a birds-eye view of London (from a long way up!), down into Whickber Street and then, oh so smoothly, through the letterbox to land us up in the bookshop. I’ve heard mention (thanks to @curiouspupsicle) that those aerial shots are potentially a sub-textual hint that God is watching over everything. That would be an interesting concept for this season, seeing as God as a narrator is missing, and that both Crowley and Aziraphale are supposed to be being left alone – I’ve always thought the lack of those omnipresent voiceovers in this season signifies that God has in fact turned a blind eye to whatever it is that the angel and demon are up to on Earth, but that aerial shot might suggest otherwise.

As with the nebula numbering in the opening scene, I was hoping for a little Easter egg somewhere on the invoice form that Maggie has written her note on, but alas, I couldn't find anything glaringly obvious in Strong’s concordance.

There are two things I want to talk about in this shot. The first is more of a wondering – do we think there’s some level of grim foreshadowing with the clear view of only one half of the coffee shop name directly behind Aziraphale’s shoulder? As with everything in this series, I think coincidence and chance are things that don’t really happen, and that everything is done with a purpose in mind, so I’m of a mind that this is deliberate. I’m just struggling to put the pieces together on that one, seeing as Aziraphale doesn’t choose death at the end of this season (or not in an obvious way at least). The other thing I want to bring up is much lighter – it’s the incredible job that the set dressers and prop creators have done for this shop. All those records! And the ones that are on obvious display have all been adorned with made up artist names. I don’t think I could possibly identify them all if I ever want to finish this set of write ups, but “Rat Keith” appears to have been a favourite, along with “C.T. Bazz” and “Gomez, y Gomez, y Ramirez”. There is a short article covering an interview with the production designer Michael Ralph that talks specifically about the creation of this part of the set that has a couple of nice insights. Bravo everybody involved with this one – it’s a bloody masterpiece.

A note on Aziraphale’s reaction to Maggie saying she’s going to leave the shop – isn’t it kind of adorable that, despite the fact that he’s been living amongst humans and immersing himself in their ways for 6 millennia, the only reason he can think of for a business owner having to vacate their business premises is because they don’t like the location? It says so much about the goodness of his character that his worst nightmare here is that Maggie no longer likes the space he provides for her. You have to give some credit to Maggie here though, because hers is one of the most realistic reactions we get to see with regards to the batshit craziness that is so often taken for granted in this show.

Oh. Ah. Wait I see. Goodness of character I said? What was I thinking? This guy just wants his records. And if that that lecherous glance at his soon-to-be property doesn’t tell you that, his next line will:

AZIRAPHALE: Maggie if you were out of here, where would I get my records?

Now, before I go upsetting any of you, I want you all to know that I love Aziraphale. And (spoiler alert) I don’t hate him for the Final 15. With that said… SELFISH MUCH? He’s such a funny little conundrum (and I do know that’s kind of the point of the vast majority of this show) – being of Heaven, and therefore being good and kind and charitable, yet being so blatantly selfish at the same time. It’s something we do see in his character at several points in this show, but this is perhaps the most overtly that it’s stated.

Alright, I have to talk about this. It was always something that I had written down in my notes, but as I was writing this, something else occurred to me that actually gave me a chill. Let’s start with the first part of this line:

AZIRAPHALE: I’m very good at forgiveness…

Now this is an interesting claim to make. We’ve seen him specifically apply a type of forgiveness twice up to this point – once during the argument in Soho, the other where he asks for Crowley to be forgiven during the band stand scene. Have we ever seen any evidence that he actually is good at forgiving somebody for their sins? He’s certainly not good at it when Crowley comes back to the bookshop later in this episode. Or with Michael, Uriel and Sandalphon for their attack on him in the street – in fact we see him bear an undeniable grudge in relation to their actions. Perhaps his claim is made under the same premise that he assumes he inherently possesses so many other “good” qualities – he is of Heaven, therefore he must have them. Let’s mull all of that over whilst we think about the next bit of the line:

AZIRAPHALE: …it’s one of my favourite things.

On the surface, this would seem to be a simple way of backing up his claim. And here’s where my blood ran a little bit cold. Is this… a Sound of Music reference? We’ve actually even seen this very reference used once before in season 1:

SANDALPHON: These are a few of our favourite things.

Now, let’s side aside my original (very pathetic) epiphany that any time we have a Sound if Music we should interpret that as a BAD OMEN for a moment. Let’s instead remind ourselves of Aziraphale’s reaction to being told that there’s someone in his immediate circle of connections that really loves Sound of Music:

Hmm. Seems he’s not a fan. So why would he be referencing it here, in season 2? On the other hand, we do know that his “boss” is a pretty die-hard fan. What we don’t have confirmed is who, exactly, this refers to. To my mind, it’s one of two people – Gabriel (who we regularly see Aziraphale reporting to) or God herself. Huh. Now things are getting interesting. Because didn’t Aziraphale say he was good at forgiveness? But isn’t it Christian lore that it’s only God that can actually forgive the sins of humanity? I can’t tell you how quick my brain offered me the next thought that flew across my consciousness.

That’s not Aziraphale.

I mean. That thought is ridiculous, isn’t it? Isn’t it? That opens up so many questions I don’t even know where to start. And seeing as this is an episode write up, and not a meta exploration, I’m going to pretend I didn’t say anything at all about this and continue my way through this episode; perhaps I’ll revisit this possibility at a later date so, for now, we’ll move swiftly onwards…

Let’s have a bit of a deeper dive into the headlines on the newspaper Crowley is reading:

So aside from the fact that Crowley is in the park by himself (raising questions about whether he was there to meet Aziraphale as usual, if he does in fact use this location to “fraternise” with others, or if he’s actually just there because he likes it there), these headlines (and the newspaper itself) make some interesting suggestions. First off, let’s examine the presence of the newspaper itself. Why is Crowley reading a local rag for Tadfield at all? And given that it’s a free publication (see top right corner of the front page), it’s highly likely he would have to drive out to Tadfield to get this copy in the first place (demonic miracles aside). Seems to me like he’s going to an awful lot of trouble to get hold of a newspaper that doesn’t actually have any relevance to him. And what’s with some of those headlines? The perfect weather, the “Best Village in England” poll results, a new species of spider, and the local school gaining popularity; all of those things sound as if somebody might be meddling, and given that we saw Adam had retained at least some of his powers at the end of season one, I can’t help but wonder if he still has those powers at this point, and whether Crowley is now keeping an eye on him, both with the newspaper and the visits to the village to get that newspaper.

Crowley doesn’t seem particularly surprised to see Shax when she appears, which recalls the question I raised earlier that might suggest he really is using the park as a meeting place for someone other than Aziraphale. He does question her about whether Hell knows she’s “checking in” with him after all (it seems they don’t). And what’s this in her response?

SHAX: I am now Hell’s representative in London.

Does that mean there are other Hellish representatives in other cities/countries? I don’t know what that piece of information would give to strengthen the storyline at this point, but I suppose it might come into play later down the line; imagine if there were angel and demon representatives in each capital city of the world, all of them susceptible to becoming more humanity-inclined throughout the millennia. There’d be a veritable army of empowered beings fighting on the side of humanity if that was the case. Food for thought.

Other than finding out that Crowley’s apartment was actually a job perk (forcing him to live in his car), that he’s graduated from wanting to be on his own side all the way up to identifying any conflict as outright pointless, a confirmation of his nonchalance for being unwelcome in Hell, and a reminder that humanity itself is capable of so much worse acts of cruelty without Hell’s influence, there’s a lovely Clue here about Beelzebub’s involvement with Gabriel at this early point in the season:

SHAX: Beelzebub put some of the lower demons on half rations.

This punishment (which on the surface seems pretty minor and could in fact be completely meaningless if we take her later refusal to drink as a sign that demons don’t eat or drink just like angels don’t) would seem to have been done at the same time of Gabriel’s disappearance. Fortunately for us, we’re not told that he has disappeared until after we’re told Beelzebub has implemented this inconvenience (which is delivered in a rather throw-away fashion), otherwise we might have started to put the pieces together…

We also have confirmation in this conversation that the association between Aziraphale and Crowley is now open knowledge, and not interfered with, when Shax refers to Aziraphale as Crowley’s “contact”, which he doesn’t refute or offer any pretence about – he simply responds, impassively, that Heaven doesn’t talk to his “contact” anymore.

What I find interesting about this statement is that it’s made so confidently. OK, that sounds a bit confusing so let me explain. Do we ever hear Crowley telling Aziraphale that he has open contact with Shax about Hellish matters? Don’t think so. And jumping ahead a bit, do we hear him telling Aziraphale that he was summoned down to Hell by Beelzebub herself to answer questions about Gabriel’s whereabouts? Don’t think so (unless you count that desperate plea in the Final 15 – I don’t). So it would seem that he is keeping the fact that he is still in contact with some beings from his ex-employer from Aziraphale. Why doesn’t he consider that the angel could be doing the same thing? I actually think the answer to this might be a fairly simple one, and it’s that he is open and honest (and probably quite upset) that Heaven actively don’t talk to him anymore. Says a lot for their old agencies though, that Hell’s agents would still talk to Crowley but Heaven’s try their hardest to not even acknowledge Aziraphale’s presence, particularly seeing as the agency bearing a grudge the hardest is also the one that supposed to be “very good at forgiveness”. Whatever the sub-text here, I think it’s important to note that Crowley doesn’t agree to Shax’s attempted deal, despite the fact that she’s openly offering a mutual information exchange, which might actually be of benefit to Crowley’s situation. Ultimately I think that just goes to show – all this demon wants is to be left alone.

I think this is as good a place as any to stop, seeing as we’re about to get introduced to two new characters, and that an old character is about to make an unexpected (and already much discussed) appearance, so for now I’ll say the usual: questions, comments, discussion, always welcome 😊

[monstersinthecosmos]

Okay I don’t want this to be like an obnoxious millennial assumption because I’m positive that every generation has things like this, but the way autism and ADHD was treated for us in the 90’s and how it affects adult diagnoses is like, imo, so integral to our coming of age and the stories we tell and the way we’ve gotten to know ourselves, even the way it relates to our job market and economy and how we operate inside it, and especially the way a pandemic uncovered it for so many people and exposed the cracks and revealed that we were all just barely functioning and held together with popsicle sticks and anyway

I say that because maybe it’s the un-diagnosed 90’s child in me but I feel particularly emotional about Keith’s arc in learning that he’s part Galra, and the way even the creators said they made him sort of prickly because of his biology, and I just !! Think so much about Keith’s neurotype as a part Galra!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cause something about being diagnosed later in life is like, looking back at all the other ways you tried to handle yourself, all the missteps, maybe even misdiagnoses. Like, how many times did you try to treat ANXIETY without realizing you didn’t have an anxiety disorder, you just can’t deal with your family blaring the TV from the next room? How many times were you told you were lazy, or lying, when you didn’t know what executive dysfunction is? 

Keith is such a lovely rich character because his prickliness is EARNED—we know what happened to him, we know he’s traumatized, we know he’s been treated poorly by many people in his life. We know that he grew up thinking that he’d been abandoned by one of the people who should’ve loved him the most, in the whole world. He even questions that in his vlog—he makes the connection that he has trouble with people because of his mom. 

But I just wonder like, how much of it is just his biology. Not understanding the body he’s in, being completely ignorant of one whole half of his culture. Had he ever mutated before the TBP fight? Did it take him by surprise, did it frighten him? ((* This is head canon territory LMAO there’s no way to really know—like, is he able to do this because he just spent so much time with Krolia, or does Shiro going That’s the Keith I remember mean they used to have really primal sex that turned his eyes yellow? Lol)) 

Like when we talk about even the most broad generic terms of saying someone is neurodivergent, we don't even need to put a real life label on Keith. Like he's literally not human! Of course his brain looks different! Of course he functions differently! And I wonder how much is nature v nurture -- if he knew the truth about his mom, if his dad had lived, if he'd been allowed a normal childhood, would he still have been a weird kid?

Cause like, even seeing the way Shiro is able to get through to him, we see ways that he allowed for thrill seeking, and he didn't judge Keith for stealing his car. It reminds me of like, what we know now about asking children to sit still in school, and how perhaps some children would do better with standing desks. Shiro wants him to behave and succeed, and doesn't judge him for being a car thief, and gets through to him by bringing him cliff diving. And it just feels like this clue, you know, that nothing is wrong with Keith, he's just living in a weird place where people don't get him.

It’s just really special to me, because there’s so many pieces in the sequence of events of Keith’s character arc, and I know I’ve said this a handful of times now, but I really sincerely believe it’s the only thing the show really nailed. Accepting himself during the BOM Trial -> MOMENTS later learning something very important about his biology -> spending time with Krolia -> coming back to pilot Black when he’s READY and WANTS to (unlike the first time, when he resisted) -> becoming a pragmatic strong leader by the end.

Gosh idk. 

I don’t really have anywhere to go with this, it’s just something I was thinking about today and it gets me real emotional. Like, Keith must have had these moments, re-evaluating who he’d been before he’d known, finally understanding why he was Like That, and it’s so healing to imagine him accepting his past self and forgiving it because he understands now. 

[zahri-melitor]

New(ish) Comics:

Birds of Prey #13: That was a clever use of Cass to finish the storyline. Kelly Thompson's generated enough good will from me at this point that yeah, I'd consider her as one of the strongest Birds of Prey writers since Dixon and Simone, though Sean McKeever probably still edges her out (McKeever had a stronger lead in though to work from, and so many people barely distinguish his work from Simone's).

I'm interested to see where Thompson takes them from here. I certainly still have quibbles (I would love to see a commitment to using Barbara as Oracle only appear on page; I do think Thompson is having way too much fun trying to play with ALL the characters and needs to focus a bit more on the ones she has already), but I'm never disappointed by the title? I enjoy myself.

Batman #152: I've got to say, as someone who has also played around with Darkseid powers, I enjoyed that Bruce acknowledged on page that Omega Beams do weird shit on occasion, revolving around what Darkseid wants, and that Bruce would in fact be cautious of them in ways other people are not. I'm not sure as a story it accomplishes a lot as an an Absolute Power tie-in (mostly I think it's just keeping Bruce out of the way while other characters get focus in the main titles), but I did appreciate the use of the Batman #79 callback to the Beach Holiday Of Explicitly Taking Time For Ourselves While The Children Are Dealing With Drama, because Bruce and Selina and holidays at the beach and on cruises is a long running theme together and I never hate seeing it pop up.

Putting the Birds of Prey Absolute Power set up into the back of this made sense in terms of comics pricing and keeping the number of event comics contained, but also probably needed to be better signalled. Read this AFTER BOP #13.

The Boy Wonder #5: and Juni Ba caps his story off.

This was sweet! In the spectrum of non-canonical or dubiously-canonical retellings of origin stories, I think this straddled the line pretty well, particularly in how it was explicitly pitched as a story someone was telling. Some of the resolution in the final issue was a bit pat for me (in terms of we all moved forward and solved things), but the focus stayed where it needed to be (on Damian and Damian's connections), and plenty of the implications were significantly creepier than Smol Damian here realised.

This would sit happily beside the Demon Trilogy as a quasi-canonical Al Ghul story. I think Dennis O'Neil would have appreciated it.

DC's I Know What You Did Last Crisis #1:

Honestly my opening thought on this was 'why did anyone offer Dan DiDio a writing slot'? Because, I've read a bunch of DiDio's work, and part of the situation with him at DC has always been that he's a mediocre writer that wouldn't rate a title if he hadn't already been working in editorial/management. His credits don't actually contain any stories and titles that people are big fans of, and a lot of his work was done collaboratively with stronger writers (if you're writing with Keith Giffen, I suspect Giffen is handling a lot of the actual plotting work and charm).

Okay rant out of the way:

Batgirl-COIE story: I don't mind this, but I feel like if I were going to pitch a Barbara story at this point I'd want it more in communication with Barbara Randall Kesel's work. I'd have Barbara acknowledge the Krypto stuffed dog and maybe bond with the kid over "I had a teddy called Supergirl". Also, this is...very early for 'Waylon likes kids'. Like, decades too early. Croc's characterisation feels far later than when this story is set.

Dr Light-Millennium: It's not bad as a horror piece, but as a few other people have noted, I feel it wastes the aspect of 'the Manhunters are hidden among us' inherent in their portrayal in the event. Nice moment spent with a few characters who don't get much page time though.

Birds of Prey-Final Night: this very much feels like a missing tie in! Which we didn't get, because BOP had the Manhunt mini instead during that period. Ashley Allen has a good grasp on the time frame and events going on for this. My one quibble is having Dinah working in Gotham here, as Barbara still was focusing on world-roaming problems at this point over local ones, but otherwise, it slotted in very nicely.

JSA-Zero Hour: This is fine. I will say the quip about "the number of Bat-people" for Zero Hour feels a bit thin. You mean, Batman, Nightwing, Robin, ... Huntress and Spoiler? Steph has barely had her second ever storyline, the only person in Gotham who trusts Helena is Tim, JPV is busy dealing with having been insane, and Dick's been home for five minutes. They literally just finished a multi-year event about how Bruce didn't have the support he needed.

Nightwing-Infinite Crisis: it's just sad and pathetic that Dan DiDio remains so mad that his staff rebelled and wouldn't let him kill Dick Grayson. It was almost two decades ago. Why are you still having a tantrum about this publicly? It's not even worth addressing the characterisation, as it's just an attempted take-that that makes him look worse.

Scarecrow-Blackest Night: ...if you're going to set something at the Monarch Theatre maybe take 5 seconds to check the wiki about what was happening with the location around the time of the story. It was not a functioning movie theatre, folks, and we're just prior to The Carpenter's Tale. I dunno. This one felt like a waste of the setting.

Lex Luthor-Final Crisis: look I don't enjoy Final Crisis, but this is incredibly set during Final Crisis. This feels like pretty solid Lex characterisation and introspection, and I'm sure he hates that he's hallucinating a Superman to talk down to.

Midnighter-Flashpoint: I dunno, the characterisation feels off for both Pyg and Midnighter. It's fine, but I would have preferred another story that really felt like a missing backup from an event.

My general overarching opinion? Most of the writers could have used a bit closer attention to context for their stories, if you're playing "this is set during". That's something people can check.

The Warlord #66: I just checked and we are so close to halfway through volume 1 of the Warlord! They simply do not commission 133 issue runs plus annuals of random conspiracy titles anymore. Anyway this week in Skartaris Mongo Ironhand remains the worst. Also Mariah and Mikola finally get to talk to each other and Mariah tells her lost werewolf fencing instructor lover that she's actually now got the hots for an ex-gladiator with a spiked mace for a fist. (Oh, Skartaris)

There is tragically very little discussion of communism. Get back to preaching about the benefits of communism, Mariah!

Also we fight a demon (who transformed from the Gollum creature like...30 issues earlier), Mariah tricks him into stabbing himself in the eyesocket with a trick sword, Jennifer defeats him with magic, they throw the magic book the demon was using into a volcano vent to destroy it, and the men are largely all useless.

Thank you, that has been our back in pre-history LOTR rip off of the week.

[mcromwell]

A ‘Primitive Wiggle’ Art Style Retrospective

In 2020, I intentionally developed a simplified art style to avoid burnout and explore new techniques: The Primitive Wiggles! Let's have a Wiggles Retrospective!

This was the first painting attempting a simpler style, “Coyote Joy”. From its success, I developed the style further to be a utility that fit my personal art-making habits and desires. 

And here is the first sketchbook page of experiments! Initially, the Wiggles had much smaller ears, a more blunt muzzle, outlined shoulders. They had eyebrows, too! You can see on these pages I’m attempting to get muzzle, paw, and eye shapes down. 

A few more attempts and we are getting somewhere with the consistency. I was just drawing them over and over thinking about 1) ease of execution and 2) versatility of shapes/poses. 

And finally we have more of a solidified paw shape: muppet hands. (It was the right choice.) 

At the time, I drew this and went "YES, THIS is what I'm going for" and I still like her even now! Some small things are different, like the Wiggles almost never get 2 sets of whiskers anymore, but she still holds up. Note how bushy their tails started out-- nowadays they’re way longer, skinnier, like a coyote and not a fox. 

Some other things that changed: notice how not every one of them has eyelashes. The eyelashes became something I'm weirdly insistent on-- they're just cuter that way!! (Pieces from 2020) 

The style used to be defined by one particular technique. But now, I let the Wiggles exist in many forms! Being flexible is part of their point-- make art no matter what, no matter when, with any materials available. (Pieces from 2022) 

Just look at the difference in snoot length alone. (Top: 2020, bottom: 2022) I consciously made their snoots longer and their ears bigger because I want them to lean more COYOTE. 

I would say some inspirations for the Wiggles would have to be Keith Haring (simplicity, fun, bold lines) and Rick Bartow (how he handles texture/negative space and the blurring of lines between abstracted and representational). The style was also sort of inspired by cave art, for philosophical reasons. 

Basically, I was burnt out with my work. I wanted to make art, but every time I tried, I hated it. Adding another style to my repertoire was liberating. The constraints and considerations that held me back with my main style were no longer there. And now that I have the Wiggles, my other styles don’t bum me out as much, I just get to make art however it suits me best at the time. (I have mental health struggles that put me at highs and lows quite rapidly, so this was sort of a necessity if I was to make art my full-time gig, which I did in summer 2020. The Wiggles were born in December 2020.) 

I made the Wiggles by myself and FOR myself. (I am quite attached to them. ♥) They gave me permission to have fun, made me overthink less, and break out of self-imposed restrictions that hindered my creativity. They've come a hell of a long way since 2020, and I have, too! 

I hope you enjoyed this Wiggles Retrospective. May they inspire you to play, experiment, and step out of comfort zones!  Take a leap of faith-- be WILD! Be NONSENSICAL! AND MAKE SOME WEIRD ART!! 

[creepycranberry]

No Chance Showmance

Robin Buckley x Munson reader showmance AU

(Plus a little hellcheer)

Based on this request

Trigger warnings: angst, alcohol, mentions of homophobic parents, cursing, not proofread

(Let me know if I missed anything)

•••

“Come on, please?” you plead, giving Robin over exaggerated puppy dog eyes.

Robin can't help but think of how unfair it is that just a bat of your eyelashes can have her resolve breaking. Robin was somehow secretly happy that there was no way you knew that. Robin looked to Steve for some help but Steve shook his head.

“Sorry, Rob. if she managed to rope me into this shit then you're definitely a lost cause. it would probably be best if you just gave in now." Steve shrugged from the workbench he was setting up to help with set building.

“It’ll be fun, I promise.” you assure her, “you just need to do the spotlight when the stage manager says so. You’ll have plenty of practice beforehand, and I know this probably won't count for much, but we'll get to see each other more than we have lately.” You smile and then hesitantly make another point, hoping for something, “and maybe you’ll meet someone? You’re always saying how hard it is to put yourself out there and find someone.” The thought made your throat feel tight, you wait for some confirmation but Robin just shrugs and sighs.

It was true that During rehearsal seasons robin and steve rarely saw you. They worked the days you had rehearsal, and then you and Keith worked on days when you didn't. The promise of more time with you does sound appealing but robin still isn't sure. Rehearsals with you mean skipping band practice with Vickie.

“The show is in like two weeks, though. Are you sure that's enough time for me to-”

“More then enough time. I mean if steve can build and paint a set piece for us in that amount of time, im sure you could figure out the lights. I wouldn't ask if I really didn't need your help.”

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

The pure joy on your face and the bear hug you gave Robin was enough to assure her that she was making the right decision.

•••

Robin spent a lot of the next week with Mark, a somewhat gruff but passionate lightboard operator with a nasty habit of forgetting his cue. Much to Robins relief and your delight, she was pretty good at lighting. She subbed for mark in a few rehearsals, along with doing the spotlight and somehow managed to make the show run smoother than it did with the two of them.

Rehearsals went late fridays and started early saturdays, which is why you suggested robin stay at yours for a sleepover so you wouldn't have to pick her up in the morning. And so friday night after rehearsal you drove robin with you to your house.

It was rare for you and robin to spend time with just the two of you. Normally steve and sometimes dustin would be a part of the group. Or it would be you and Steve and everyone else and Robin would be with her band friends. So as the both of you sat in the car you both appreciated the rare moment of silence you got to share.

“Hey.”

You turn to robin and raise your eyebrows before looking back at the road.

“Yeah?”

“You're really great up there.” robin says quietly and you do your best to ignore the blush that creeps up to your cheeks.

“I really try but i think im probably one of our weaker links.” you shrug and robin sits up a bit more.

“No. mark is one of our weaker links, you- you're the fucking ringleader. I've never seen someone demand attention from a crowd the way you do.” robin realizes her babbling and clears her throat, “i-I mean, the theatre group is small, and everyone is so passionate about this, but i don't think theyd get anywhere with actually putting on the show without you.”

You're momentarily stunned into silence by the sheer sincerity in robins voice.

“Th-thanks. I, um, i've never really seen it that way- seen myself that way.”

“Anytime.”

The drive is quiet until you pull into the driveway of the old trailer. When the two of you get to yours and eddies shared room Robin is thoroughly interested in every little thing, fawning over the movie posters on your walls and the little figurines on your desk and bookshelf.

“It’s just kid stuff.” You shrug, taking her jacket from her and hanging it on the back of her door.

“Well we’re kinda still kids right? And plus it’s cool.”

“You’re cool.” You mock lamely but Robin just snorts. You really can’t help but smile, “I’m not good at the whole conversation thing.”

“It’s okay, I’m not the best either.” Robin shrugs.

“But give me a script and I can knock that shit out pretty well.”

“I know that much.” Robin smiles.

You like it when you can make her smile. You don’t think you’re funny most of the time but Robin makes you feel like you could be a comedian. She thinks you're funny, she listens to you and you like listening to her rambling.

You find yourself so focused and enthralled with her lips, watching them move as she talks, until she stops and you’re still staring. And then you’re moving closer to her, eyes still fixed to her lips, lost in the thought of what it might be like to be familiar with the feeling of them against yours.

You barely realize you’re giving into your impulse. Her lips are slightly chapped but still pillowy and sweet.

You think she’s kissing you back but then she’s gently pushing you away.

And you’re mortified when she looks at you, awkwardness settling over you and the uncomfortability of it has you rambling an apology as you stumble backward and get away from the house,waving Robin sitting there in your bedroom, utterly stunned. By the time she finds it in herself to run after you you’re so far ahead of her. She catches up to you though, holding onto your shoulder to stop you, fighting to get air back into her lungs.

“I’m sorry Robin, I shouldn’t have-“

“You didn’t do anything wrong I just-“

“You just what?” You sniffle.

“I like someone else- I mean I don’t not like you but i-“ she begins babbling but it’s not as comforting as usual. Now it feels like you’ve been stabbed in the stomach and the knife is being twisted and pulled upward.

You now understood what it meant when someone said they felt gutted.

“It’s fine Robin. There’s a landline in the kitchen, Steve can drive you to rehearsal tomorrow I just- I need to take a walk.”

Robin looks utterly conflicted as she slowly turns and makes her way back to the trailer.

•••

You stumble up to the trailer, your body feeling sort of heavy but you're riding on a high. The kind of high that numbs every sensation and makes every thought a little bit fuzzy.

You fumble with your key for a little bit before the door opens on its own, Eddie standing there giving you a concerned look.

“Eddie! How are you?” you smile, giving him a big hug, almost face planting in the process.

“I’m good? What’s going on with you? Are you drunk?” He asks you, holding out his arms to stabilize You so you don’t fall over.

You nod dazily, “mhm, ‘m just having a good time y’know?”

“Eddie? Who is it?” A voice from inside asks and you raise your eyebrows at Eddie.

“Is that Chrissy?” you whisper shout to him.

“Yeah, that’s her. Come on, let’s get you inside, you need lots of water and bread and sleep.” He hums to you, leading you into the house where a pretty blond girl is standing in the middle of the living room, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet.

“Chrissy!” you gasp, stumbling forward and away from your cousin to give her a hug.

“Hey, Hon. Is everything alright?” She asks you, leaning away from you and holding onto you as you slightly sway.

“Hm, I don’t- I don’t know… Chrissy, when a girl tells you she likes you, and you kissed her but she stopped the kiss and tells you that she likes you but she also likes someone else, what does that mean? Does that mean she like, likes you or does that mean that she doesn’t like you like that but doesn’t want to make you feel bad? And either way, how do you deal with that? Because this girl, she’s adorable,” you gush, smiling as Chrissy leads you to sit on the couch next to her, Eddie just standing there awkwardly, “she’s so cute and she’s smart and she’s funny and she does this really cute thing when she’s nervous where she starts rambling nonsense and sometimes I’ll try and make her nervous just to hear her talk but I don’t know… because I really thought she liked me, but then I kissed her.”

“Did she get mad at you for kissing her?” Chrissy asks you, coaxing you into drinking a sip of what you’re guessing was the water Eddie had been drinking before you got here, judging by the one at your usual place on the couch.

“Not really? I don’t know?y’know? Like, she didn’t push ‘m away and I think she was kissing me back for a moment but then just… pulled away,” you slur, your bottom lip starting to jut out a little , “and when I asked’er if I did something wrong she said no but she just moved so far away from me and then she told me she didn’t mind, and she wasn’t mad but that she liked someone else and I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” Chrissy asks you, looking over at Eddie.

“She’s not mad? And also she likes someone else? But I don’t think she’s straight because she said she didn’t mind kissing me but if she didn’t mind kissing me and she’s not mad than what’s the matter? She looked so… repulsed by me, almost, she just looked so uncomfortable and her face like… it scrunched up but not in the cute way it does when she’s laughing, no it was like when someone calls you a fag from the side of the road, because that’s such a creative way of making it known You're insecure but I just- I really thought she might like me, i really thought that maybe she could care for me in any other way than platonically…”

you think you started crying somewhere in there.

Your lip quivers as you talk, your eyes welling up with tears, “maybe it was stupid, y’know. Maybe I’m just unlovable. I mean I wouldn’t blame her or my parents or my old friends or even my new friends, I’m a mess. A stupid, unlovable mess.”

You huff a little, trying not to cry and failing miserably.

Eddie sighs, his hand tucked into his back pockets, “you’re not unlovable, I mean you’re definitely a mess don’t get me wrong but you are very easy to love. Now come on, we’ve got to get you something to drink-”

“Whiskey coke please.”

“We’ve got to get you some water to drink,” he corrects and Chrissy laughs a little. Eddie looks up at her, his eyes adoring as she gets up, grabbing your hand and looping her arm through your, “and then we’ll get you some medicine and food but first you’ll take a nap and you’ll feel all better. Okay?”

You just nod, letting Chrissy drag you to yours and Eddie's room. you pull off your shoes, falling onto eddies bed and hugging the teddy by his pillow.

Eddie covers you up with a blanket, kissing your forehead like Wayne does when you’re sick and taking the hair tie out of your hair,setting it in the dresser before closing the curtains and the door.

you don’t fall asleep immediately, though you feel yourself wanting to.

Instead you cry a little, trying to sob as quietly as you can, though small whimpers still escape your lips every time you have to breathe a little.

you hold the blanket close to your frame, tucking your face into the stomach of the teddy bear.

Stupid

Stupid

Stupid

You don’t know what you were thinking.

Your own parents couldn’t find it in themselves to love you after they found out what you are, how could you expect her to?

You can’t help but feel a little grief as you think of your parents.

You missed them, you missed hugging my mother after having a hard day and just needed a good hug, you miss car rides with my dad where neither of us would talk but we still enjoyed each other’s company, you miss going to the drive in to watch old movies from when they were your age with them, you miss listening to the radio in the kitchen with your mother on holidays.

You just miss not feeling like youre stuck floating. you hate feeling like you don’t really belong anywhere.

You can’t help but feel like the most massive screw up, your parents hate you, Robin probably won’t want anything to do with you today, you’re just kind of lost.

You sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

Your nose is stuffed up and you can feel the headache from both the crying and the alcohol starting to form itself and you sigh to yourself, wiping your cheeks and closing your eyes. Maybe you can sleep off the headache.

But before you can drift off completely you hear quiet voices in the hallway, “is she gonna be okay?”

“She’ll be fine, she just needs to rest and take some time to herself. In the meantime I’ve got a band geek to murder.” You hear your cousin's hushed voice retort.

“Eddie.” You Can hear Chrissy's smile in her voice, “it just happens sometimes. Feelings are complicated. I’m sure the other girl feels terrible about how this went down too. It just comes with the territory.”

“I just- she’s still a kid. She shouldn’t have to be feeling shit like this.” Eddie shrugs and you hear Chrissy snort, “what?”

“You’re not much older than her.”

“I am three and half years older than her for your information.” Eddie retorts and you can hear Chrissy giggle quietly.

“She’s not a little kid anymore, Eddie.”

“Oh don’t say that. She’s still a little kid, she’ll always be a little kid. I could take her to a candy store right now and she’d go nuts.”

“Eddie.” Chrissy warns.

“I know. She’s almost grown up. Which sucks cause it means I’m getting old.” He drags out the word ‘old’.

“Hey, If you’re getting old then I’m getting old. We are both still glowing youthfully.”

You hear Eddie laugh and sigh, “fine. I’m still gonna go and fight that band kid though.”

“Edward Munson.”

“Full name? That stings.” Eddie says dramatically and Chrissy laughs again as their voices recede down the hall.

•••

Might do a part two but I’m not sure

[klaissance]

walk with me here you guys ahem,

Keith and Lance finally have The TalkTM on a day like most others. The paladins go about their business on the castleship, Keith and Lance mostly doing their activities together as has become, without their really noticing, habit. Keith flips through the pages of one of Allura's Altean romance novels on one end of the couch, Lance plays a video game on the handheld console he and Pidge found at a thrift store the last time they'd stopped off at a space mall from the other end. At some point they wander to the kitchen and make Hunk's latest attempt at space popcorn. They throw the pieces at each other, trying to break their previous streak record of 106 popcorn-mouth-catches. When they run out, they pelt each other with kernels until they collapse on the kitchen floor, out of breath and laughing. They clean up their mess together. They train, talk team strategy, help Coran out with some cleaning. They visit Hunk and Pidge in the lion bay and are promptly kicked out for causing trouble (neither of them can seem to keep their hands to themselves, always touching pieces and parts and projects, and inevitably something falls over and Pidge is yelling and they're scrambling away, giggling as they run down the hall). The paladins eat dinner, everyone hangs out together for a while, and life in space is pretty good.

Lance and Keith are often the last two left in the lounge as people split off--either to go to bed or to work on something independently until the wee hours (Pidge). They're chatting, swapping stories, arguing about silly hypotheticals, until Lance yawns mid-sentence and Keith knows it's time for bed. They stand together and walk to their rooms in warm silence, close enough to brush shoulders, neither changing trajectory to avoid the contact. They stop in the space between their doors to say goodnight; this, too, is normal. They smile small smiles at each other and linger, time stretchy in the way it is at nighttime.

And then something new happens.

"Keith," Lance says slowly, like he's turning the word over in his mouth for the first time. "Would you ever want--"

Keith's heart stutters in his chest and the silence of the empty hallway is suddenly deafening. Lance only hesitates for a beat but it stretches.

"--to go on a space date," Lance finishes, brows unknitting as he seems to consider what just came out of his mouth. Finding it acceptable, he nods, then lifts his gaze from the floor to meet Keith's wide-eyed gaze. "With me," Lance adds, an afterthought but an important clarification nonetheless, quirking an eyebrow.

Keith purses his lips for a moment that pulls like taffy into an eternity and it's Lance's turn to hear the ocean roaring in his ears as he waits. "Would that make us--"

Lance can't breathe.

"--space boyfriends?" Keith finishes and the air rushes from Lance's lungs, something like relief. Keith is smiling his mischievous smile, the crooked one that puts a spark in his eyes. It is among Lance's favorite Keith expressions (there are many).

"Yeah, I guess we'd be space boyfriends," Lance concedes, biting down on his lower lip to keep his grin from spreading too far. He's not doing a very good job.

"Hm." Keith nods solemnly. "Space boyfriends it is, then."

"Cool," Lance concludes eloquently.

"Cool," Keith echoes, and then they're standing in ooey gooey marshmallow silence, grinning softly at each other for a long time or maybe no time at all. Keith feels very warm and melty on the inside. Lance thinks he could run a marathon and not break a sweat.

"Alrighty then, g'night Space Boyfriend," Lance breaks the silence with a two-fingered salute and shuffles backwards towards his door.

Keith rolls his eyes without meaning to, affection heating his face despite himself. "Goodnight, Lance." He turns towards his door, grinning to himself as Lance snorts. Their doors slide open, their doors slide shut.

***

Hours later, Lance slips out of bed, buzzing with the news, and appears, bouncing uncontrollably on his toes and biting on the biggest grin, at Hunk's door. Hunk is rubbing blearily at his half-lidded eyes when he door slides open and he takes in the sight of Lance, practically glowing. Hunk blinks once. Twice. Does a little mental math. And it hits him. His eyes go wide and his mouth makes a little o, eyebrows leaping up his forehead.

"No... No." And Lance is nodding vigorously, eyes shining with unshed happiness, and that bit lip is barely withholding the giggle that threatens to erupt from the vibrating blue paladin. Hunk scoops him into the biggest bear hug, shouting "TELL ME EVERYTHING RIGHT NO-" and the door slides shut behind them, Lance's peals of laughter ricocheting down the halls.

Keith is awake in his room, sitting on the floor with his back up against the door, pressing a grin so wide it hurts into his knees. He rolls his eyes affectionately when he hears Hunk's muffled delight and finally stands up to go to bed.

[autisticlancemcclain]

The first time Keith sees the boy is a brief flash of eye contact through the classroom door before he’d averted his eyes and looked away. Keith glances around the room to see if anyone else had noticed the boy, but he seems to be the only one, so he dismisses it. Probably just someone from another grade going to the washroom or something.

The second time he sees the boy is thirty-two minutes later, when he knocks on the door. Miss Dindial opens the door, ushering him in, and then asks him why he’s come to visit.

“To come to class,” he says simply, hooking his thumbs on his backpack straps. Keith thinks that it’s strange that he still has it on him, since they were a couple hours into the day already. First recess has even passed.

“I have all my students already,” Miss Dindial responds with a furrowed brow. “I think there might have been a mix up.”

“This is the fourth grade class, right?” the boy clarifies, brown eyes wide and a little nervous. “I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t find it earlier. That’s why I’m late.”

Keith thinks back to the way the boy had walked past the classroom earlier. He tries to remember the boy’s expression, but his mind comes up blank.

“It might be best if you just stay here until I get this sorted with the office,” Miss Dindial decided. “Until then, you can grab a seat — oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t get your name!”

“I’m Leandro Agustín Nuñez Carmen Esposita-McClain. But you can call me Lance.”

Ha. L-A-N-C-E. Keith has never met someone who’s name is an acronym before.

Miss Dindal blinks. Then she smiles, eyebrow raising. “Clever. Now go on ahead and sit down, Lance. You can put your bag by your chair. Right now we’re discussing class rules for this year — you haven’t missed much. Now —”

Keith stops listening, going back to staring out the window. Every so often, he glances three rows over to where the boy — Lance —has chosen to sit, watching him diligently writing on a piece of paper. Keith wonders if he’s really taking notes. He doesn’t know any other fourth graders who take notes. He wonders if Lance is one of those brainy, know-it-all teacher’s pets who tattles all the time.

Something tells him he isn’t.

Lance looks up, catching Keith staring. Keith flushes and looks away. He chances another peek, several minutes later, only to find Lance still looking at him. He smiles, wiggling his fingers in a little wave, then goes back to writing. Keith wonders what that means.

When the lunch recess bell finally rings, he scrambles out like everyone else. He looks for Lance on the playground, but doesn’t see him anywhere. He doesn’t see the boy for the rest of the day, actually.

———

The third time he sees the boy is on the bus the next day.

Keith is the first person on the bus, then a group of eighth-graders who pat him on the head before they go sit at the back. After them, usually, is Ethan from sixth grade. He’s a butthead who always starts fights when no one’s looking and then gets Keith in trouble for it later. Keith hates him. But instead of turning left on Ethan’s street, today, the bus turns right, onto an unpaved road leading to the more rural areas. Keith’s never been down there before.

The bus goes down the road for ten minutes before stopping at an old, run-down house, paint peeling around the edges. It’s the new boy — Lance — who waits at the curb, nervously picking at the ratty sleeve of his shirt. He boards the bus with his head down, mumbling a thanks to the driver before glancing up to find a seat.

When he makes eye contact with Keith, his whole face lights up. He waves excitedly, moving forward, put he pauses suddenly before he sits down, suddenly shy and unsure.

“Um. Hello. I’m in your class, my name’s —”

The bus lurches forward, sending Lance tumbling, right on top of Keith, squishing him into the window.

“Oof,” Keith exhales, but doesn’t shove Lance off of him. He’s not sure why. That would be his usual move.

“Sorry! Dios, I’m so sorry!” Lance squeaks, scrambling up. He kneels on the seat next to Keith, but doesn’t go to a different seat. This pleases Keith, for some reason.

“‘S’okay,” he assures. “You’re basically a feather, anyway.”

Lance giggles, some of the nervousness leaving his posture. Keith thinks that he’d like to make it all go away.

“I’m Lance,” he says sticking out his hand.

“I know,” Keith replies, shaking it.

Lance laughs again, and Keith finds himself grinning.

“I know you know, I saw you smile when I introduced myself yesterday. You have a nice smile. I just introduced myself again because I want to know your name.”

Keith’s ears turn red. Oh.

“Keith,” he blurts out. He’s not sure if he’s more embarrassed about the smile comment or the fact that he forgot to introduce himself, but Lance doesn’t seem to mind.

“That’s a cool name. I’ve never heard it before. Keith.” He puts a lot of emphasis on the ‘ee’ sound, cutting the ‘th’ short so it almost sounds like a ‘t’. Keith likes the way he says it.

“I moved from Cuba earlier this year —“ that explains the accent — “so everything here is kind of strange. English is a very weird language. Why are so many of the words the same? I do not understand it.”

“You don’t seem to have much trouble with it,” Keith observes.

“That’s because I’m smart,” Lance says, but it’s more of a statement of fact. The sky is often blue, the ocean is salty, Lance-from-Cuba is smart. Keith thinks his confidence is admirable. He wonders if public school will crush it to death.

He hopes not.

“Plus, Cuban schools start in August and end in May, so we moved here in May and I had more months to learn it. I was lonely, though.” Lance frowns. Keith wonders what he can do to make him smile again.”

“Why were you lonely?” he asks hesitantly.

“I left all my friends in Cuba, and all the other kids were in school all day, so I haven’t had the chance to make any friends yet. Except for you, of course.” Lance’s face gets unsure again, and he looks at Keith shyly. “If that’s okay with you.”

Keith nods frantically. He’s never had a friend before, and he likes Lance. He’d like to be his friend.

“Great!” Lance chirps, smiling his sunny smile again. Keith can’t help but smile back — it’s almost like Lance’s smiles are contagious. “I’ve never had a friend with a mullet before! I like it, though. You look cool.”

The two of them chat for the rest of the ride — well, mostly Lance. He’s a bit of a motormouth, but Keith doesn’t mind. It means he doesn’t have to talk as much. And Ethan doesn’t bother him when he sees Keith’s not alone, so that’s a bonus.

———

The fourth time he sees Lance is the next day. Lance sits with him, again, and they talk until school. They hang out a recess, too. Keith notices that although Lance never runs out of things to say to him, he’s kinda shy around everyone else. Quiet. Gets stressed if too many people are talking to him, and the screaming that’s a constant on the playground makes him wince. They take to playing make-believe on the field a distance away from the playground — they’re currently playing space defenders.

The next two days are the weekend, so Keith doesn’t see Lance at all. He stays at the group home he’s currently staying in, reading quietly in the tree in the backyard until his foster mother calls him in for bedtime

The fifth time he sees Lance is on Monday, and it’s not much different from Friday. Lance sits with him on the bus and talks his ear off until they get to school, and then they play together every recess. Lance even helps Keith during math, which he appreciates. He finds out Lance is very good with numbers. He has the multiplication table memorized up to fifteen, which Keith thinks is crazy, but Lance admits he can only do that because his dad makes him write them out every day after school.

The sixth time he sees Lance is the day after that, again, on the bus. This time, when Ethan boards after Lance, he doesn’t sneer at Keith and go to to the back with the other older kids. He seats in the seat directly behind them. Keith tenses immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Lance whispers.

“Nothing,” Keith replies tersely. He doesn’t know how to explain the situation to Lance, and besides, there’s not much Lance can do anyway.

Ethan, unfortunately, notices Keith’s tension, and laughs meanly. “Aw, Oliver Twist,” he mocks, “you didn’t think I forgot about you, didja? C’mon now, I’m not like your mommy. I won’t ditch ya. We have lots more time together, isn’t that right, Keith?”

Keith grits his teeth, pressing back the tears burning hotly at his eyes. He’s over the stupid Oliver Twist jokes – Ethan uses them so much they’re boring, now – but he’s embarrassed that he made them in front of Lance. In front of his new friend.

Through the blur of his watery eyes, Keith sees a small hand clench, feels Lance shift as he turns around the face the bully.

“Leave Keith alone,” he hisses.

“Ooooh, Keith!” Ethan laughs, “got your boyfriend protecting you now? Guess you really are a KoGAYne! Ha! Do your foster brothers know you’re a f—”

There’s the heavy thud noise of skin hitting skin, and the sickening sound of a bone crunching. Ethan screams, and the bus lurches to a stop. Keith whips around, eyes wide, only to find Lance glaring down at Ethan, knuckles split and red.

“My nose!” Ethan screams. “The little freak broke my nose!”

The bus driver storms down the aisle, demanding an explanation, and Ethan cries a made-up sob story about how he was just minding his business when the weirdo new kid came out of nowhere and decked him in the face ‘to show who’s boss around here’.

Keith snorts quietly. Yeah, right. Lance is no more a bully than fly to the moon — yesterday, he saw a worm dried up on the pavement and cried so hard Keith was worried he’d throw up. He’d insisted they have a funeral for it.

Regardless, the bus driver believes Ethan, and yanks Lance by the arm to the seat behind her. Keith stares after him with wide eyes, worried, but Lance shrugs and shoots him a wink.

Keith doesn’t see him for the rest of the school day, or the day after that.

———

The seventh time he sees Lance he is relieved. Lance strolls down the middle aisle of the bus, plopping down next to Keith. There are four Hello Kitty bandages on his left hand.

“What happened?” Keith whispers.

Lance grins. “I got suspended, and I’m grounded for two weeks, but that’s it.”

Keith stares at him, a little awed. “You got grounded? For me?”

“Of course!” Lance assures. “You’re my friend! I wasn’t gonna let that butthead say those mean things about you. You’re too cool for him, anyway.”

Keith stops counting after that.

[msmargaretmurry]

vampire leon and vampire hunter matthew oh i would do ANYTHING to read it!! the TENSION the ATTRACTION it would SERVE!!!

hello thank you for your enthusiasm about vampire leon and his vampire hunter boyfriend!! i spent much of the weekend pondering but i'm bad at being online and being social at the same time so now i am catching up on my asks, thank you for your patience as well.

i'm not a super traditional vampire girlie but i do enjoy the occasional vampirey media and i love creative vampire/mythical creature worldbuilding so a lot of the fun in this concept for me is just figuring out the worldbuilding. many years later i still think regularly about this michael dal colle/leon draisaitl vampire fic, even though i have not had a single other thought or feeling about michael dal colle otherwise in my entire life (leon is not the vampire in it, alas, but the baby leon characterization is lovely). because the worldbuilding, especially the background vampire politics and the logistics of vampires integrating into "normal" society/playing in the nhl are so fun and interesting. i also think about like, true blood, which i have only seen bits and pieces of, but the whole humanizing/integrating vampires of it all, and of course buffy (beloved) and more traditional vampire/monster-hunting type stories.

i think someone could write a really fun full-on vampire/vampire hunter au, but because of who i am as a person i want a fic where they have this vampire stuff going on and still have to deal with their hockey careers, lol. my basic idea is something like (subject to change as i continue to ponder): a couple of generations there was some sort of accords/treaty reached between vampires and vampire hunters, because of the way the world was changing, it being much more difficult to hide, and also some sort of development that made it easy for vampires to feed without killing humans and kind of... put a damper on their vampire-ness, made it easier for them to blend in if they chose to, and the vampire powers that be decided that they should all do that, for safety. obviously there are still rogue vampires out there and still hunters who try to hunt down and kill even the ones minding their own business but for the most part at this point everyone minds their own business unless something particularly bad happens.

so matthew's grandparents were the last tkachuks to actually hunt vampires. keith was trained, did a little hunting in his youth as the kinks and wrinkles of the new order got ironed out, but was able to go on and have his hockey career instead of dedicating his life to hunting. then matthew, brady, and taryn come along, and they're kind of trained, just in case, and taught how to recognize vampires, taught how to protect themselves, taught all the ways vampires are still not human and not to be trusted and highly dangerous, but they're still able to go on and live normal lives.

until matthew starts playing against leon draisaitl. and he's spotted vampires out in the world before, but never in hockey — they tend to keep low profiles, and even at the lower-levels, team sports are not low-profile, and also matthew has just never imagined vampires caring about sports at all, although maybe that's a stereotype, but whatever — anyway. it takes him a few games to figure out what's up with draisaitl, and even when he starts suspecting, he's not sure, but then one battle of alberta matthew gets in a fight and ends up with a bloody face, and as he's ushered past draisaitl on the way to the box, he sees the way draisaitl is staring, the way his pupils are dialated, the way his throat moves when he swallows, the way his tongue darts out and matthew swears, he swears he sees a hint of fangs even though he knows those only come out when a vampire is feeding or in a bloodlust. and maybe he's just dizzy from getting punched but for a second when their eyes meet he is sure he feels that thing his dad and granddad warned him about, the way that if a vampire looks you in the eye he can hypnotize you. or read your mind. maybe both. the lore is kind of fuzzy. but obviously matthew is going to have to find him after the game. to find out what the fuck draisaitl is doing here, and figure out if he's going to have to put any of that training he never thought he'd need to use. because it feels dangerous, having a vampire in the league. it feels way too close for comfort.

[irkimatsu]

physical or emotional characteristics you would like in a human husk

Sorry for sitting on this for a bit! I'll admit, part of me was being autistic and overthinking this. Is this about what I'm personally attracted to in Husk, or what I think would be best for his story in canon? Is this about what he was like before he died, or what he'd be like if he could be human again after everything that's happened to him in hell?

I'm going with "how I see him as a human on Earth before death, and who I thought he was regardless of my own personal attractions and biases". (Well, a little bit of my own biases. No such thing as unbiased fiction. But accuracy is my priority on this one.)

First and foremost - human Husk is black. I will die on that hill until canon tells me otherwise. There could be other pieces of heritage in there somewhere - I don't think I'm qualified to speculate on that too hard - but as far as skin tone goes, he's black. I also like when art gives him dreads, it just looks right, though I'm not as much of a stickler on that matter. Gotta have some scruffy facial hair, though, I demand that much.

As for why... is it all the good fanart that made other options look wrong in comparison? Is it because he's voiced by Keith David and I just can't imagine a white guy sounding like Keith David? Those are definitely pieces of it. I know it's not canon and I'm not out here attacking people who lean otherwise on Husk's race, but as for me, he's black, end of discussion. On the shorter end of the average as far as male heights go, but he's not noticeably short in isolation. Definitely taller than my short and stout self. Weight probably fluctuates depending on his situation - his finances as a gambler would be all over the place, and so would his diet, varying between lavish meals in overpriced steakhouses, and dinners at home consisting primarily of cheese puffs and bottom-shelf beer. I do like him with a gut, though. Maybe he's just naturally predisposed to having a gut, even when he's starving. (Told you there'd be some bias.)

I'd definitely want to put decent thought about what it was like for him as a black man growing up in early 20th century Las Vegas, but without being 110% certain that anything I'm saying makes any fucking sense, I'm biting my tongue on that one. Definitely a topic I'm interested in, though.

I should also probably mention that yes, I know it's a common headcanon for Husk to be a trans man. It's interesting! I have no actual reason for not writing it myself. Not sure what to do with it, I guess? If it was canon I'd of course pay more attention to that aspect, but for now, whoops. You guys have fun, obviously! Just like with the popular ship, if anyone ever took "Irk doesn't write this thing" as "Irk thinks that thing is bad" I'd cry, don't do that

I like the name Oscar for him while alive. Saw it in a post on here once and it just felt right. Thank you, random Tumblr user I forgot who you are whoops again! Until canon tells me otherwise, he's Oscar in my heart.

I think his dress style while alive would match a similar trajectory to his Overlord-to-servant transition - a snappy dresser when he can afford it, would never be caught dead looking the least bit disheveled. Button-up shirts, freshly ironed suits, the finest colognes! But after he's a washed up divorced drunk, who gives a shit. His clothes are a lot more tattered now... but honestly, living in a place like Vegas where half the population are various flavors of downtrodden, washed-up addict, he doesn't stand out. At least he has that going for him.

Personality-wise, I think as a child and a young man, he was a big dreamer, even a bit of an attention whore. He's wanted to be a performer for as long as he can remember, ever since he started seeing magic shows and jazz bands as a kid. He may still be introverted in the sense that putting on a show is exhausting and he needs his space, but when he's in the right frame of mind, the stage is where he belongs. He worked so, so fucking hard to be a performer! He really could have been something if Vegas didn't chew him up and barf him out...

That dreamer attitude also made him a serious romantic when he was younger. If you accept a date from that man, he will spoil you. Flowers, fancy dinner (if he can afford it), a personal serenade... he doesn't fall into actual honest-to-god love very often, but when he does, he falls hard and puts everything he has into showing the person he loves that he cares. He does lean toward monetary gifts = affection, though... please, Husk, sometimes your partner really would be happiest with a hug and a song. But he doesn't see it that way, he has to keep gambling to be able to afford the lavish lifestyle his lover deserves. Fucking Vegas.

As an older man on Earth, after a turbulent divorce and decades of addiction and depression, he's a lot like the version of himself in the hotel. Doesn't give a shit about much besides where he's going to get his next drink. He does miss his dreams and wonder what could have been if he didn't screw it all up... but there's no point thinking about wasted opportunity. It just hurts. Drink it away instead. He spends his last few years alone, gambling and drinking and just waiting to finally fucking die.

Death was supposed to be a second chance for him, you know? He could pick himself, become someone again! Too bad for him that "someone" was once again a gambler, and that addiction is always going to catch up with him...

This is a rambling mess. I apologize! I just hope I answered the question correctly! Sorry if I messed it up!

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Shiro owns a coffee shop called 'Black like my Lion' Lance and Pidge work there, Hunk hangs out with them at the shop. They all love Shiro, because he's Shiro.

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

"Hey Lance! I'm on my break now, so hold down the fort for me, will you?"

Lance nods at Shiro.

He must admit, when Lance first met Shiro, he was a little (a lot) intimidated by the man's tall figure and burly build.

Now, he has to laugh at his previous anxieties. Shiro is only outdone in his niceness by Hunk. (But Shiro makes THE BEST coffee, which may or may not put him at the top of Lance's list.)

Anyway, the shop is pretty slow for the next hour, like it usually is around this time.

That is, until a man sporting a blazing red jacket and a mullet storms in. (Dang, is this guy having an existential crisis or something?)

Mullet Guy walks right up to the counter and then leans with his back against it like he owns the place.

"Ummm... Can I help you?" Lance says.

Ok, so maybe he's a little scared of Mr. Stuck In The 80s, but anyone with a working stranger-danger radar would be too, so shush. Mama McClain taught her son well.

All Lance gets in response to his awe-inspiring show of courage is an unamused grunt.

Ok then. This guy really fits the whole rough and rugged emo vibe, doesn't he? (And the worst part is that he actually pulls it off. Curse Lance's aggressively bisexual heart.)

After about an hour of Lance questioning if the throwback ruffian is plotting his murder and whispering theories with Pidge and Hunk, Shiro finally comes back.

Sir Tall Dark and Cappuccino absolutely explodes.

"SHIRO. You PRICK. WHAT is WRONG with you? I was an HOUR late to my shift, and I couldn't even CALL the damn place because you just HAD to go and actually THINK YOUR EVIL PLANS THROUGH FOR ONCE!"

The male Elizabeth Taylor takes a breath, his face settling into a pout that is both adorable and (somehow) terrifying at the same time.

Shiro doesn't even flinch.

"Oh, hey Keith. I'm assuming you found my little surprise?"

(Thank goodness, Lance was running out of weirdly long nicknames for 'Keith.')

Keith closes his eyes and takes in a sharp breath. It reminds Lance of his sister when he's being particularly annoying, and she's trying not to strangle him. (You know, that face you make when you're repeatedly reminding yourself that the negatives of killing your sibling outweighs the positives, even though they don't and you just don't want authority figures yelling at you?)

"Shiro. Every piece of clothing I own is inside-out, and you stole. My. Flipping. Phone."

"Well, you refused to take the night shift for tonight!"

"So you completely CRAP UP ALL OF MY PERFECTLY-FOLDED CLOTHING?"

"YES. EXACTLY."

Lance, Hunk, and Pidge are watching the exchange like it's a ping-pong game. Seeing that this will likely escalate further if no one interjects, Lance speaks up.

"So Shiro, care to tell us who this is?"

Shiro's face breaks out into a huge grin.

"This is my awesome baby brother! All you really need to know about him is that he's a whole lot cooler than me."

"Stop that, I'm still mad at you."

"No, he's not."

So, what has Lance learned from this?

Shiro has a REALLY hot younger brother (does it run in the family or something?)

NEVER piss off Shiro. He will find a very creative and way too elaborate way to get back at you.

[dualityvn]

I’m so sorry things have turned out this way. T^T The other MCs have already stepped in with food and help, and so I’m just gonna make some raisin cookies and put them in a nice cookie jar for Keith when he gets back.

If it’s not too much to ask, can you tell him that I love every part of him? All the comfy sweaters and raisin cookie loving pieces of him. From his most flustered fanfic-writing moments to even his angry and less moral ones. He’s still Keith through and through, and he’s loved for that. Not for any other version of himself. I know it doesn’t mean much at this point and time, but I want to help remind him how amazing he is as himself. I love him even at his angriest, even if I disagree with how he does things, and none of that will ever change.

Maybe to help encourage you to eat healthy meals, you can have sweets after? As a dessert?

I think Keith just needs some time rn, I don’t wanna pressure him or anything. I’ve been through tough shit myself, and I know I would not have appreciated people pushing a bunch when I needed to get my head screwed on a little. (Not that it’s at all Keith’s fault. I hope that wasn’t implied. - -;; I just meant trying to get yourself together after a big mental event like this. I relate, and I hope things get a little better soon.)

Maybe I can write him some poetry? I don’t know how much he’d appreciate that, but I’m not terrible at it! (I might send some in as an ask later, if I remember!)

You’re handling things very well, Tenebris. I’m sorry you’ve been put in this spot. Thank you for always taking care of him. I’m lucky to have both of you in my life. <3

"Sure, let's do all that. Write him poetry, too. He's started talking to me, but he's only saying dumb shit. Maybe your rhymey words will do him good or something." - Tenebris

[clementineskesh]

okay palisade 27 thoughts

Lots happening this episode!!

MOTIONNNNN!!! Huge fan of motion coming back. The motion scream appearing since the beginning, the motion engines....even back in partizan, it always felt like she was meant to come back, and i LOVE how this is being done. the images were so good.

I like Dust! I like Occam Olio. I like the Us doppelgangers and "they are not dead. they do not leave the tunnels."

Seeing Jesset again also makes me sooooo happy thats my BOY i am jesset fan numero UNO and unfortunately he did get his ass kicked completely but he was cute while he did it and badass.

Elle showing up was beyond exciting! i love to see her!!!

"no one's PRO-Motion" Art has NOT been speaking to my mutuals

Longer thoughts: The big narrative swings (not talking lucia (which i love also) bc that was last ep) were SO cool i love how immediately invested art got in the motion clock, im obsessed with the choices, jesset being put in mortal peril was honestly very fun for me (tragedy enjoyer who loves to mourn their faves)

it really is brutal how authority sweeps every faction turn. on the one hand, I think there is a really good sense of weight and scale here; the authoritarian rulers of a whole planet are not weak and easily toppled, it would be worse if they were always getting beat.

On the other hand, I don't love the way they're going about it. Art backing away from Occam having a character moment SPECIFICALLY because he didn't want to roll and lose a pillar (especially in comparison to keith rolling when he didn't need to duing the stellar combustor arc) was so disappointing. it just felt like a worse story and less fun play. I did not like that at all.

Even though the sense of "the authority is huge and complex and every victory will be a struggle" is good to me and i prefer it, it kind of sucks to feel like the blue channel only faction that DOES anything (even baseline/violet cove mission was mostly a success even though they took the baseline L) Like gucci saying "what do you think we do all day?" girl i think they had your number!! you people are seeming pretty unhelpful!!! i would like it if not just Our Heroes but the entire organization were pulling their weight.

The final thing that occurred to me during the first conflict with jade kill and then got solidified later with art is i think its a huge problem that Hexagon doesnt have more named characters. Blank Shore and Occam Olio and SIlverbrick, the attendants of Gentian, all the higher ups of the Bilats, they have all gotten screen time and exploration and interest from the players. By contrast, most of the named Hexagon members pre-exist the faction games, and they are a lot less fleshed out. The twilight mirage character jack mentioned didnt even get a name. they dont care about them, and we have no one To care about.

So i think in the end i like all the narrative turns this took in terms of big swings and choices, but the energy is leaving me feeling kind of disappointed and uninvested in the individual dice rolls and events and attempts. like i enjoy what they do with the outcomes, but getting to the outcomes this week felt pretty :/ I just wish they would care about the cause too!!! i like what they do with authority but i like the cause and i feel like we dont know them at ALL!

our one former exception was baldwin home who was an outside perspective who deepened the connection a lot, and now he's dead, so like, they've all just become pieces on a board instead of people.