#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

[b0n3s-is-gay]

What does the gang get you for Christmas?

A Very Merry Outsiders Christmas Masterlist -> here!

Darrel Shaynne Curtis:

This man, if he was to get you anything for Christmas, it'd be some simple piece of jewlery that doesn't cost that much.

If you're serious serious in this relationship, like you've been together since Highschool, think 5 years. There's a small chance it'd be his mom's engagement ring. Not the wedding ring of course, Sodapop keeps that close to his body at all times. (I will always write about how Darry would propose, sue me.)

He'd wrap it up in a little bit of tissue paper and then put it in a bag. If it's a necklace, he'd help you put it on and kiss you after.

Keith "Two-bit" Matthews:

This man is a joker through and through, so the first gift is a joke gift. Something to get him laughing and you a bit upset, but he'd never over do it.

The joke gift would be something like chocolates (if you don't like them) or a box of coal.

But his actual gift is a lot more thought out than you might think. It's a butterfly knife, stolen just like his. It's something he hopes you don't have to use but you'll have just in case.

Dallas "Dally" Winston:

Dally doesn't do Christmas. He just doesn't. Don't ask, don't tell.

But if Christmas gifts are really your thing, he'll steal you some kind of expensive piece of clothing you were looking at.

Does he wrap it? No, not at all. He loves you, but not that much.

Sodapop Patrick Curtis:

Sodapop would have a hard time picking something to give to you for Christmas. But, he'd get you something with his own money. Maybe it'd be something small related to your hobby.

He'd get you something nice from his DX funds, think like new paint brushes if you paint or a roll of polaroid blanks if you do photograpgy.

He'll wrap it up with help from Darry. Nice little packaging or bag depending on what hobby you have and what he got you.

Steve Randle:

Something homemade. He does work at the DX but his money is pitted towards his survival, so he'll make you something for Christmas.

Maybe a little wooden heart or a few metal roses. Like that little picture captioned with "I will love you until this rose wilts", that kind of metal rose. That's what he'd get you.

He'll tie it up with a little bow or ribbon and give it to you with a kiss under the mistletoe.

Johnny Cade:

Much like Steve, Johnny doesn't have much money for gifts. So he'll take you out to dinner or make dinner for you.

I see him as a quick learner and he's always watching when others cook. So he'll pull out some of Darry's recipes and make you a wonderful dinner to the best of his abilities.

He'll meet you at the door, pull you inside, and treat you like a princess the whole night. He'll even dress up (with what he has) and wine and dine you for Christmas. He loves you, trust.

Ponyboy Michael Curtis:

He's drawing you for Christmas. His gift will be customized artwork of you.

When I say customized art work, I think he'll have a refrence photo of you and he'll draw you with words he thinks describe you. Something like this.

When he gives you the picture, it'll be in a little envelope with the sweetest little christmas love note. He's cheesy, don't hold it against him.

Tags: @witchyleehibernates

[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.

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. 

[star-girl-writes]

Eddie and Steve have been broken up for a little while, but one day Eddie asks to meet up and confesses that they never told their parents that they broke up and he needs steve to pretend they're still together and go to some family event with him. cue pretending to still be in love, arguing about why they broke up in the first place, fake kisses that turn hungry, all the yearning and pining, one of them still being in the love with the other !! the possibilities are endless

// Hey! This is my first fic ive written so im sorry its a bit messy and short rn its just like a intro and im trying my best haha! I got this plot from @signfromgod 🙂//

PART 1 (intro) - the break up

Steve and Eddie had been together for seven months now and they had been spending basically every day together since. All of their friends and family loved them being together, they would say “you guys are like two pieces of a puzzle” and “its like you were made for eachother”. Everything had been so great, they would go on dates somewhere new every week, Steve would go to every single concert Eddie had, listen to his favourite bands and rehearse every lyric all night long just so he could jam along with Eddie in his van the next day and most importantly Steve loved Eddie.

April 11th 1987

“I’ll pick you up same time tomorrow, okay!” Steve shouted out to Robin as she made her way up the path to her front door “And please dont be 15 minutes late again! Im tired of Keith getting all mouthy!!”

“You bet steve!” She replied with a smile and a thumbs up.

“Hey I’m serious Buckley!” Steve pointed at her, waiting for her to get safely into her house before driving off.

Eddie asked Steve to come over after work saying he has something he wants to talk about. Steve was confused by what Eddie meant by that but Robin reassured him that it was probably just something to do with a concert or dnd.

As steve made his way to his boyfriends house he put in a mixtape he had made with all of Eddies favourite songs and began to sing along to them, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of his car. “I was made for lovin you baby..you were made for lovin me..” He sang quietly as he pulled up to the trailer he now calls home.

The headlights of the car shine bright at Eddie who was sat on his front porch, cigarette in hand. “Hey handsome, arent you cold out here? Wheres your jacket?” Steve said with a smile on his face, hopping out and walking up to him.

Eddie looked up at him with a small smile, trying not to make too much eye contact. “Its uh..its inside, was just coming out for a quick smoke..”

Steve immediately noticed that Eddie isnt in his usual happy mood “You alright? You look upset? Did something happen?”

“Maybe we should go inside..” Is all Eddie replies with, standing up and flicking his cigarette on the muddy floor “I wont keep you for long”

Steve felt a small pang in his heart but brushed it off quickly “Well i dont have to be in work till 12 tomorrow so i could stay over.”

They both made their way inside the run down trailer, Steve looked around to find no sight of Wayne who was usually home by now “He’s on nights this week” Eddie mumbled, like he knew exactly what Steve was gonna ask. Steve nodded at him and sat down on the couch, Eddie following just after.

“So whats up? Is it Rick? I told him I could pay off that debt you owe?” Steve moved a hand over to Eddie’s knee to try comfort him.

“No, no its not rick its uh…” Eddie didnt dare to look over at Steve. He kept his eyes down on his hands as he played with the rings on his fingers “Steve…I um…I think we should take some time apart..” Eddie mumbled.

Steve sat there for a minute in silence before letting out a small laugh in disbelief “Wait what?” He replied, wondering whether what he just heard was real or if he was just pulling a mean prank.

“I’m sorry Steve its just with everything like.. finishing school, trying to find work, paying off Rick and Corroded Coffin just got offered a small US tour its just alot for me right now…i need time to get everything sorted out..” He tried to put it the best way possible for Steve to understand “And…were gonna be so busy we wont see eachother..”

Steve froze up “Is this really happening right now? Wait you’re going on tour?” He stood up, walking around the living area “Eddie I can help you with school and- ”

“Steve..its just not gonna work..” Eddie shook his head slowly.

“So thats it? Were just done? No offence Eddie but thats not a good enough excuse for just breaking up with me” Steve furrowed his brows at Eddie.

“Im not breaking up with you i just need some time!” Eddie joins Steve by standing now, both of them gradually raising their voices.

“Well it sounds like you are! Come on Eddie we both know ‘I need some time’ is really just a nice way of saying we should break up!” Steves exclaimed “Just say it Eddie!”

“Steve..” Eddie’s voice shallowed again and his eyes began to look anywhere but at steve again.

Steve took one last look at Eddie and shook his head “Great..thanks Eddie..” He scoffed and trailed down the hallway to Eddies room, emptying his drawer and shoving his belongings into a bag. He made his way back out to Eddie, taking off the guitar pic necklace Eddie let him wear and placing it on the small wooden coffee table before turning and opening the door, not even glancing back at his ex boyfriend who was sat in silence with his head in his hands as he left the trailer he could no longer call home…

// AHHH I know this may be very bad but please bare with me 😭This is only the first part of a longggg story! Anyway thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! //

[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.

[legend-of-voltron-rewrite]

(This is just a few random questions I think abt when i find an author i like-)

What other media/hobbies do you indulge in? What's some of your biggest interests? (Other than voltron ofc) Is there another Fandom you'd write for? Favorite childhood show(s)?

Big question, favorite volron paladin? Favorite character in voltron? (No limitations- you could answer bii-bob-bi tbh. hes a fantastic choice)

BIGGER QUESTION!! What inspired you to write this rewrite and how do you motivate yourself to continue?

That's all! Hope you're having a lovely day! :)

Hello!

-

I'm very big into anime - I started watching them when I was eleven and never stopped. I watch other animated shows (Western), which I'll list in a later segment.

I'm also into manga, though not comics, (never really knew why, just couldn't get into it). Games, too, mainly RPGs, though I have been into FPS co-op as of late.

Don't judge me: K-Pop. I only really interact/watch content for one group, (will come up later), but I used to juggle between many groups.

As for hobbies other than writing: I'm big into art. Took classes for them and everything. Though this may have been obvious from early chapters of book one.

I've tried to get into making animatics, but I ended up stopping half-way through everytime I started. I like voice acting, though I've only ever done it once for someone I'm no longer friends with haha.

I used to be big into baking, but was never good at it. I'm much better at cooking, though mainly Asian dishes, (due to heritage and such).

My biggest interests... I'll keep it limited to five, else this segment would be much longer.

One Piece, (generic but it's popular for a reason), is a favourite of mine. The writing, world building, characters, relationships, messages, themes - I love it all. Definitely a high reccomendation.

Gravity Falls, because it's just that good? Even the weakest episode would be considered top tier if it was in another series. Dipper and Mabel's relationship is everything to me, and Stan was the uncle I always wanted. Love him.

Fullmetal Alchemist, mostly MangaHood, but the 2003 anime adaptation is great too. It's honestly of the best written works I've ever interacted with, and it makes perfect sense that it's highly rated.

SHINee, the K-Pop group I mentioned before. I'd call them standards for the industry, but then nobody would be able to share the stage with them. I'm a Shawol for life baby!

Finally, Katekyou Hitman Reborn. This was the first fandom I wrote fics for, back on my WattPad days, and I still love it to this day. I wish for the fandom to be revived so I may read the trashy fanfics I once adored and now hide my face in shame to.

Other fandoms I write for: Fairy Tail, though I haven't touched the AU I started in months. My Hero Academia, though only through my Tumblr page @my-rewrite-academia. I've been working on a Persona 5 fanfiction behind the scenes for a while, though I haven't progressed past chapter three.

I have an alt AO3 account, where I've written for MHA, Kuroko No Basket, Persona 5, SuperM, and the Banana Bus Squad (Vanoss and Friends).

My old WattPad has mostly Katekyou Hitman Reborn, and a sprinkle of Fullmetal Alchemist.

Neither of the previous two shall be linked, as I honestly just want to leave behind those fixs behind, considering I wrote them when I was thirteen and nothing made sense.

My favourite childhood show(s): Spongebob, Mr. Maker (only British kids will understand), Pokemon, and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Also Sonic Boom, though that was exclusive to my teen years than childhood. The How To Train Your Dragon shows were also a favourite of mine, including Riders and Defenders of Berk.

If movies count, then How To Train Your Dragon, Shrek, Megamind, and Scary Movie(s). Scary Movie(s) sound like a weird thing, and it was. I was in the room with my older siblings when they put it on and never bothered to leave.

-

Now the Voltron-related segment!

Favourite Paladin: Keith. I hope it's not entirely obvious in my writing, as I wish to treat every character equally, but he is my favourite. I relate to him a lot and he ticks a lot of my boxes.

Favourite character: Keith, again. Other than Keith, however, it's Coran, the Gorgeous Man. He's always so jolly despite the heartbreak he's been through, and the writers were able to balance his comedy so well.

(Apart from the Voltron Show where they were clearly running out of ideas and/or time and made him more annoying than funny.)

-

BIGGEST QUESTIONS:

"What inspired me to write this rewrite–" (first half)

I actually started writing it in 2021, where I went on a three-year break due to losing motivation and my interest dwindling, at the time anyway. I was initially inspired to write it when I grew more and more frustrated with how canon handled many things.

As with many teen shows, I began to wonder if it would be handled better had it been intended for a more mature audience. It didn't help that I read the fanfics before I watched the show, so I had a certain level of expectations that weren't quite met.

I won't blame the writers, as it's usually just two or three people higher-up who make all the decisions. I was disappointed in DreamWorks, not the team behind it who have no choice but to follow orders.

But, yeah. The turning point, what really pushed me into starting and publishing the rewrite, was when I started thinking about how I'd handle each character and each arc. How I'd write different relationships, how I'd write each theme.

From there, I decided to put my money where my mouth was, so to speak.

It was a terrible start, really. When I first started writing it, I only had a vague idea of how I'd go about it. When I came back to the rewrite, the first thing I did was create a proper plan, else it'd just end up like the show - disappointing and missing so much.

I can remember, when I started, I just wanted to write a better story, which is a terrible mindset. This idea that the only thing that mattered was being better than the show is a toxic one.

My mindset is a lot better, of course. I've grown up since then, and spite-writing is something of the past. Maybe there are things I'm displeased with in canon, but I don't allow that spite to control me.

Rather, I feel more enthused, viewing it as more like adding onto what canon missed - filling in scenes rather than being better.

So, consider this a PSA to authors who spitewrite - get out of your minds. It feels much better to write if done with good intentions rather than negative. Words come easier and it doesn't feel like a chore.

-

"–and how do you motivate yourself to continue?"

Keeping a schedule, first and foremost. It differs from person to person, but having a set schedule of every '—day' helps a lot. It urges me to write, and the pressure helps me more than debilitates.

Of course, others may disagree. For others, having a strict schedule may feel constricting and thus hinder creativity, but it's helpful to me. This idea of, 'I have to do this', 'if not now then when?', helps me a lot.

It's also my longest fic to date, so to stop now would feel like a large disservice to both me and to the people who read each new chapter.

Then there's you! I'm not kidding, either. Comments, now more than ever, are usually so rare.

I once saw a post about an author discovering a discord server where their fic, (which had very little comments), was being heavily dicussed, and people had nothing but praise for it. When they asked why they didn't comment, they said that they didn't feel the need to, or that it would be embarrassing. That they never knew what to comment, despite the praise they had for it.

The author then decided to abandon the work upon finding this out. Because we don't get anything from posting our works. All we ask for is some form of praise or acknowledgement, and comments are just that.

Even if it's [<33] or [This is good!] or even [please update], we appreciate it all. Honestly, the only time I refuse to comment, rather than simply forgetting, is when an author holds fics hostage. The whole, 'I want x-many comments or else I won't update'. At that point, I lose any respect they had.

Comments are our lifeline, yet the idea of asking for comments feels like tabboo. As if we're less for leaving even a small note of, 'comment please', feels like it's asking for too much.

So to have a repeat commenter, to have you, is everything to me! If all else fails, if I can't find the motivation, I often think about those people who subscribed, who have my fic bookmarked, who comment on each update, and I think about how there are people who get excited with each update, who want to know what's going to happen next, who want to see this fic to its end.

It may sound corny, but my biggest motivation really is my readers, and those repeat comments give me life. It helps in ways that I never realised could.

-

And that is the end of the AMA/Q&A segment!! Thank you for sending this, stay tuned for the next update, have a great day, and look both ways before crossing the road!

[strangerfandomfiascos]

Hey everyone :)

I'm participating in WIP Wednesday for the first time ever and I made a poll asking what people would like to see (Link here)

It would be so appreciated if people could give me their thoughts on these snippets of my current WIPs ❤️❤️ Looking forward to posting on Ao3 as soon as I can! Some are much more developed or time pressing than others but I hope to have at least one out before the new year with the rest closely following 😊 Some of these paragraphs are also pretty disjointed/unpolished but lot of them are still in the early writing or editing stages.

Hope you enjoy!

WIP Wednesday Snippets for December below ❄️❤️✨️❄️❤️✨️❄️✨️❤️❄️❤️✨️

Multi-Chapter Steddie Steve Centric Fic (First Chapter)

“I don’t know what to tell you, Robin, I was just so excited for the working week that I couldn’t sleep last night” Steve deadpanned, ignoring the pit gnawing its way through his stomach and making his chest feel a little too tight. Thankfully, the joke had worked as he’d intended as Robin’s expression went from sceptical to straight up disdainful.

“Ugh, don’t remind me! I actually think I might die if it gets any hotter. I’ve tried talking to Keith about fixing the AC and all he does is grumble at me with a mouth full of Cheetos.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. My hair hasn’t looked this shitty since eighth grade, this humidity is awful for it”

“I don’t know about that, sailor boy. You forget that I also worked with you last summer so I know what you tried to hide under that hat when it couldn’t handle the humidity.”

Steve grimaced at the pet-name as his mind was suddenly assaulted by flashbacks of a Russian guard calling him the exact same thing at Starcourt, except he had worn a cruel smile in contrast to Robin’s playful one and had delivered a swift punch to the gut shortly after.

“God, I hated that stupid hat” he said with a shudder “and it didn’t hide shit, it only made me look worse.”

“Well, you don’t have to wear one for this job, at least. Just gotta put up with Keith and assholes who return their video tapes all tangled.”

“I’ll take Keith and tangled VCRs over screaming kids and floors that’ve been puked on any day” Steve replied, and he meant it. Working at Scoops Ahoy had well and truly sucked, even before all of the Russian and supernatural bullshit. He’d only been working there in the first place because his asshole of a dad had wanted to punish and humiliate him for not achieving good grades or getting into college.

‘Since your worthless hide can’t even get into goddamn tech then the very least you can do is find a job lowly enough to take you on so you can learn some fucking responsibility for once your goddamn life’ he had spat at him, full of virulence and contempt with the harsh aroma of whiskey accompanying every last syllable.

If he was being completely honest with himself, which was something that he also sucked at doing, Steve wasn’t entirely sure if he’d even wanted to go to college. He’d applied to the Scott Business School up at Indiana State because he didn’t know what the fuck else to apply for and he’d wanted to keep his dad happy plus stay relatively close to Hawkins so that he could still visit the kids. He’d barely looked into the university itself and it was the same story for the other couple of in-state techs he’d also applied for but in the end it hadn’t mattered, he didn’t get into any of them anyways.

Steddie Winter Exchange 2024 Oneshot Fic

“God, can we just go back to laughing like we were inside earlier?” Steve groaned as he carded a hand through his un-kept hair anxiously.

“Sure dude, I can go back to laughing. I mean, just looking at your hair right now is making me want to laugh my ass off” Eddie said with a wolfish grin.

Steve blushed and touched his hair again, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

“Shut up” he laughed nervously as he felt the flush creep up his neck and onto his cold cheeks. “I haven’t exactly had the kind of day that called for making myself look presentable.”

“No no, it’s cool man” Eddie continued to chuckle. “I actually like it when it’s super messy, it’s cute.”

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the –

Steve could feel himself going even redder and he just hoped that the shimmery glow of the moonlight wasn’t enough to illuminate the colour across his otherwise pale features.

“It is not that messy!” Steve sputtered as butterflies swelled in his stomach, unsure if it was from annoyance, amusement, indignation or something else…

“And it’s not cute! I just haven’t had the willpower to do anything to it recently” he argued as the flutter in his stomach intensified when he felt Eddie’s devilish eyes on him accompanied by an amused smirk.

“Oh come on – you can’t tell me that this isn’t cute” Eddie suddenly leaned forward, grinning whilst he reached out and ruffled Steve’s hair, much to the other’s outrage.

“What are you, Eddie – no!” Steve squawked in protest, trying to lean away from Eddie’s batting hand and falling off his lawn chair in the process. Eddie just continued to laugh hysterically, tossing the his cigarette held in his other hand to one side and following Steve to the floor.

“Munson – hey! Oh my god, stop!” Steve cried, but even he couldn’t contain his own laughter now.

Eddie did not stop. Instead, he tried to pin Steve to the ground and it wasn’t long before the two of them were in an outright wrestling match on the dirty, cold patio floor.

“If it wasn’t messy before, it certainly is now!” Eddie cackled between laboured breaths, wrangling with Steve’s flailing limbs until he eventually lost the upper hand. Steve managed to hook a leg around Eddie’s waist and swiftly flipped the two of them over so that Eddie now lay back flat against the ground and Steve suddenly found himself on top, panting.

Multi-Chapter Edmund Pevensie Centric Fic (First Chapter - Casmund much later down the line)

Peter and Susan had only been five and four when baby Edmund had come along but their young age hadn’t stopped the two of them from being totally awed by the little creature they came home to one morning after spending the night at Aunt Mary’s. They had known that their parents had been expecting of course – there had been many days spent together as a family at home where Peter been diligent in his efforts in helping his mummy carry heavy objects around the house or pulling the chair out for her to sit at the dinner table, whilst little Susan had dutifully brought her sloshing cups of tea and platefuls of biscuits, all under the twinkling, watchful eye of their father. Fascinated by the bump that their mother carried for a number of months, knowing just how precious it was, they had spent countless hours huddled beside her on the sofa watching for the flutter of a kick, their soft fingertips gently feeling for the press of a foot or an elbow or a hand.

They knew what a baby looked like, having seen so many at the park or in London’s bustling streets but nothing prepared them for the one waiting for them bundled up in their exhausted mother’s arms that warm July morning.

It was as though two of them had been put under a spell the moment they had arrived atop of the stairs and peered apprehensively around their parent’s bedroom door, totally transfixed by the sight before them.

“It’s alright my darlings.” Their mother had said softly. “Come closer and meet your little brother.”

Eyes wide with curious mesmerisation, Peter and Susan had cautiously made their way to their parents’ bed where their mother lay whilst the bundle cooed and snuggled into to her. Their father stood beside her, looking tired but proud as he too had beckoned them to sit atop the covers.

“He’s so tiny” Susan had murmured as she had reached out a hand to gently stroke Edmund’s raven black hair and soft, pale cheeks.

“Can I hold him?” Peter asked tentatively, wanting very much to cuddle his baby brother yet being afraid to, for he had looked so small and fragile.

Helen smiled. “Of course you can sweetheart, come and sit up here with me” she’d said, allowing room for her two eldest children to sit closer beside her, being careful not to jostle her as they did so. Peter had nestled into her side whilst Susan had leant on him too before she showed them how to hold their new sibling and gently passed Edmund into the anxiously awaiting arms of Peter.

“What’s his name mummy?” asked Susan, whose wide, star-struck eyes never left the little baby in front of her. Helen looked distant for a moment, her kind features becoming filled with warmth, despite the bags beneath her eyes and her clammy skin.

“Edmund. This is little Edmund” she replied while her husband rested his hand on her shoulder affectionately.

“After your grandfather” he said fondly as he and Helen shared a smile.

“From the Great War?” Peter asked, staring down at Edmund in wonder, allowing him to wrap his tiny hand around his pinkie finger.

“Yes.” his father answered with a hint of sincerity to his tone. “He looks just like him. He’d be so proud of you, my love.” He added, squeezing his wife’s shoulder once more and giving her a knowing look.

“He has our eyes” Helen murmured quietly. “Just as Peter and Susan have yours.”

Multi-Chapter Snape & Lily’s Daughter/Harry’s Half Sister Harry Potter Fic (Prologue/First Chapter)

The forest surrounding Godric’s Hollow shook softly as whispering gusts of wind moved between the skeletons of trees. In the moonlight, each branch glistened with the sheen of autumn frost; each and every shape and shadow standing stark against the forest’s silvery glow. Leaves the shade of singed orange skipped along the cold forest floor with every sigh of the wind and far off sounds of a fox’s screech and an owl’s call could be heard as they were carried through the trees.

In the golden glow of the rustic porch at the back of the Potter cottage, a girl of eighteen sat upon the worn redbrick steps with her long red hair hanging loose past her shoulders and gloved hands wrapped around a steaming mug of pumpkin spiced tea. Her green eyes sparkled under the moon, radiant with you but also heavy with weariness as she gazed out at the looming forest past the red brick wall ending the Potter land.

“Lily?” a voice called from inside, followed by cautious footsteps.

“Out here” Lily called back as her heavy thoughts were interrupted and her gaze was pulled from the abyss of the shadowy forest ahead of her.

“Are you not freezing to death out here?” the voice of James Potter came fretfully from behind her as she turned to see her fiancé stood in the rustic old doorway. “I can feel the draft from the kitchen, are you alright? You’ve been sat out here for almost a half hour.”

“I hardly noticed how much time had passed until now until now” Lily admitted as she turned and gave him a soft smile. “I’ve been too busy staring off into the night.”

“Hmm” James mused. “That forest always frightened me as a child after nightfall, even if I’d spent the day playing in it with my father.”

“I don’t mind it. The sounds of the trees comfort me, even in darkness” Lily replied, eyes still looking to woods beyond the threshold of the Potter garden.

She was about to get up when she suddenly inhaled sharply, back straightening as one of her hands instinctively moving to her stomach.

“You alright?” James asked, concerned.

“She’s moving again” Lily said with a smile. “I doubt it’ll be long now.

James looked pensive for a moment, worry still etched into his features before he offered the red-headed girl a hand.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside, before you both catch your death.”

[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.

[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!

[born-to-lose-writing]

No Road Romance – Chapter 4

Pairing: Roger Daltrey x reader

Summary: When you start going to The Who's shows, you regularly hook up with Roger, but after a while of being his groupie and a friend, you're beginning to think you like him more than that.

Tags: fluff, sexual references

Words: 1,671

A/N: I wanted to post this earlier, but I kept getting ideas for how to make it more slow burn-ish and include details. Enjoy! <3

Tag list: @warriorteam1924 @slashscowboyboots @losers-yurio @lost-in-the-80s @jennyggggrrr @tuffduff @jonesyownsmyheart @smells-like-perfect-senses @slit-skirts (let me know if you want to be taken off the list)

It was noon when the doorbell rang and you went outside to see who it was. You hadn't invited anyone and you never had salespeople going around your street. As you opened the door, you saw the least person you had expected.

“Good morning. Sorry for harassing you, I found this in the van and figured it was yours. The boys rarely wear lingerie,” Roger grinned. “Well, Keith sometimes… Anyway, here it is.”

He pulled out the pair of lace panties you hadn't even missed until now. You must have carried it in a bundle with your jacket, scarf and socks after only putting on the absolutely necessary clothes in a rush last night.

“Oh, thank you! Honestly, I didn't notice I lost anything,” you admitted, taking the piece of clothing that was dangling from his pointer finger. “You didn't have to go out of your way to return it, though.”

“If I can keep it, just tell me,” he laughed. “I don't live too far away. I didn't know when I would see you again and instead of carrying it with me for every show until you turn up, I thought I'd stop by sooner.”

“Who knows, maybe it's a lucky charm,” you winked. “And yes, I'm going to have to skip the one tomorrow, but I'll be back on Friday.”

“Can't wait. See you then, have a nice day,” Roger said with a smile and looked at you for another moment before turning around to leave.

In the next couple of months, forgetting some of your clothes with him became a habit. Not specifically because you wanted him to visit you the next time he was nearby – although that was a nice side effect – but because you genuinely didn't notice at first and dropped something in a hurry, especially since talking until the venue was shortly before closing also became a habit, albeit a nicer habit than missing a quarter of your wardrobe until one day Roger would return the missing items.

However, he did keep a few as lucky charms, which was clear to you when you spotted him wearing a scarf of yours during a concert. You had thought it was lost for good the last time you had gone backstage, but apparently Roger had picked it up without you noticing and decided to make it part of his stage outfit. It made you feel a little proud, knowing he wore something that belonged to you in public, so while he knew that you knew he had stolen it, you never asked him to give it back. It suited him too well and you were not going to complain as long as he returned the majority of your clothes.

Over time, you formed a real kind of friendship and at the beginning of the next year, he started inviting you to his place and you felt comfortable inviting him to yours now as well – you hadn't wanted to take things too far. For most of those dates, the main intention was still to get laid sooner or later, even if neither of you rushed into it like you did on gig nights.

If he called you to come over and listen to records with him, you often ended up making out with some blues playing in the background. If he asked for your opinion on how he had tuned his car at his friend's garage, he would drive you around and eventually somewhere secluded to test the new backseat covers. If you cooked dinner together, you would stay overnight.

When that happened, the programme didn't stop at that. Instead, you nearly always had proper and increasingly deeper conversations after sex unless you were much too tired to do anything else than fall asleep. When Roger visited you at your flat, he didn't disappear immediately afterwards either, although he had done that for some time at the beginning because he had thought he was being intrusive.

When either of you was staying the night, it had also become a ritual to have breakfast together. He liked when you cooked for him, but he was a good cook himself, so you usually took turns, depending on who was awake earlier. There was no need for a walk of shame as you were way past the time when you would sneak away in embarrassment at what had happened last night – if there had ever been such a time for the two of you.

Still, your meetings weren't all about getting into each other's pants. For example, you would go to record shops and boutiques with him and you enjoyed taking walks in nature, often accompanied by his dog, who had taken a liking to you from the moment you had first visited him at home.

Another one of your most popular outings was going to bookshops, where you would show each other your favourite books and authors. He recommended some novels by the likes of Dostoevsky to you and was open to your suggestions, sometimes blindly buying books you enjoyed without fully knowing if the plot or writing style was his cup of tea, with the justification that he trusted your taste.

At libraries, your chattering and reading summaries out loud had earned you glares from elderly people at the end of the aisle, so at some point, the two of you decided to move to small bookshops where nobody was bothered by it as there were either barely any other customers or they were not as obsessed with peace and quiet.

You were hidden behind a tall shelf in the poetry section when you called, “Rog, come here!”

“If I can find you,” he laughed and you stuck out your hand to wave, balancing on a stool to reach for the book you wanted to show him.

Roger jogged towards you, not trusting the stool, and placed his hands on the sides of your thighs to support you. You knew he meant well, but your legs only now started trembling at his touch. “Got it?” he asked and you nodded, handing him the book before carefully climbing down.

He looked at the cover and turned it around to see what it included. “Love Poem Collection,” he noted, teasingly raising his eyebrows. “Bedtime reading? I thought you liked a little dirty talk, but we can try this too.”

“Don't get any ideas.” You playfully swatted his arm, taking the book from him. “It's seriously good, it has most of my favourites and a couple of poems you can't find in other collections unless you buy a certain writer’s anthology. Wait…”

You quickly flipped to page 93 without checking the index first. “I especially like this one.”

Roger leaned over to look at the text while you read it aloud as fluently as you had written it yourself – or at least read it many times before. Even as the page turned over your thumb, you didn't pause. That is, until Roger turned the page back to where you had been, his finger brushing yours. You stumbled over your words briefly, glancing at him for a split second before returning to reading the last verse while his eyes remained on your face.

After a moment of silence and feeling him looking at you from the side, you mindlessly flipped through the next few poems, admitting, “A lot of poetry I like is about love in one way or another. I just like the imagery and how you can express complex feelings using a few words or speak in sometimes abstract metaphors but you still understand the meaning.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, smiling softly. “Nothing wrong with liking love poems, nobody feels guilty for liking love songs.”

“You know, I've only borrowed this book from the library before. When it's not there, it's usually with me until I have to return it,” you chuckled.

“You won't have to return it anymore,” Roger said nonchalantly, taking the book from you and grabbing your hand as he made his way to the counter. “Anything else?” Smiling, you shook your head.

Once you were outside, you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you so much!” He immediately wrapped his arms around your middle, holding you a little too tight and just a little too long, not wanting to let go sooner than his embrace loosened. You didn't dislike it, it just felt odd in comparison to your normal goodbye hugs, which were affectionate but not quite as long.

When you pulled away, he handed you the book. “See it as an early birthday present. I still owe you one,” he winked.

Despite your friends insisting all of this sounded like dates, it was truly nothing more than friendly activities to you and you didn't want them to be dates either. You generally weren't interested in a relationship at the moment, even less with a very busy musician who had no time to romance anyone while on the road. That may be possible for smaller bands who never played outside of London and England, but The Who were touring across Europe and even the United States, which made it impossible for you to even hear from him for months at a time when he wasn't in Great Britain, let alone try and maintain a serious relationship.

Besides, you appreciated Roger as a friend and didn't want to taint a good friendship with a failed attempt at dating. As Oscar Wilde had said, ‘There seemed to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance.’ For this reason, you were glad you were not in love with him. In a way, you had to have had a slight crush on him at the beginning to initiate the flings and you were very much attracted to him, but that was only on surface-level, though not quite exclusively sexual because that was not the sole basis of your friendship. Still, how you felt about him was very different from having the desire to pursue somebody romantically.

[zombiebastian]

Jeff The Killer: Sebastian's rewrite

Chapter 3

Previous chapter

(it should go without saying but obviously as this is a Jeff the killer piece, its gonna contain a lot of violence, as well as references to self harm so if you don't like that stuff please leave or proceed with caution)

A while later, Jeff's first lesson after lunch began, PE. He always hated PE, not because he hated sports, he actually liked sports, but since it was school it just had to ruin everything for him. He hated getting changed in front of everyone, he didn't get why he and all of his classmates had to do that, he found it disgusting and uncomfortable. And then when they actually got to the PE hall or field, everyone was so competitive for no reason at all, as if a random PE lesson was gonna leave a lasting affect on all their lives. It just sucked the fun out of sports, something Jeff liked, and thats what he thought of most school subjects he was usually interested in.

Anyways, after getting changed into his kit, him and his class made their way to the field. It was so cold outside, and the PE kit was just a white t shirt and small black shorts, the only thing giving Jeff's legs any resemblance of warmth was his knee high tube socks. Today they were playing volleyball, but since the school didn't have any proper volleyballs , they played it using soccer balls. And unfortunately for Jeff, Randy, Keith and Troy were in his PE class, and the PE coach decided it was a great idea to put Jeff and Keith in one team, and Randy and Troy in the other team fighting against them. It was odd because usually in regular volleyball there were six players, in beach volleyball there is usually four players, but obviously they were not at the beach.

Jeff had no idea what Troy had done about that burn he gave him earlier and if he had told anyone about it or not. But he could see a faint pink mark on where he had lit the lighter. Jeff stood next to Keith, and Randy and Troy stood behind the net in front of them, the net was very tattered, and looked more like a stretched out dirty dish rag than a net.

The four boys stayed silent mostly while playing the game, but they'd occasionally yell at each other if one of them dropped the ball or something. A while after the game started, Jeff just stared into the sky, as the three others were arguing about "cheating" or "not playing the game right", Jeff couldn't really tell because he had zero care for the dumb argument that was taking place, but he knew it probably had something to do with the game.

Jeff stared at the sky, it was a light shade of grey, with many dark clouds. The wind blew over him gently, but still made the surroundings rather cold. Thats when the PE teacher approached Jeff's group and began to yell at them.

"Boys! What on earth do you think you're all doing just standing around?!". All of them immediately snapped round to look at her, even Jeff. Keith nodded and replied "Sorry Miss, I was just teaching my friends how to play the game properly, it won't happen again,".

The four of them then got into position and the PE teacher left thinking they were going to obey what she just said, but as soon as they were out of her view, Troy took out his anger by throwing the ball right in Jeff's face, hard. The ball smashed right into him like a hammer would a nail, he went flying back and ended up falling over. Randy, Keith and Troy all laughed at him.

"I told you we'd get revenge on what you did to me this morning!" Yelled Randy, Jeff felt a liquid dripping down by his mouth, he felt at it and realised it was blood, the force of the ball hitting him had caused his nose to bleed from both nostrils. And the blood was dripping down onto his white shirt. Some of the nearby teams stopped their games to look at him, some snickering, some showing concern, and some just staring blankly. Jeff felt a weird weight building up behind his eye sockets, and then the wait pushing out and dripping out down his face.

"Awwww look he's crying!" Keith said in a mocking way.

Jeff was honestly shocked that he was crying, he wasn't one to cry due to pain, and the ball hitting him didn't even hurt much. Was it the humiliation of being stared at by nearly the whole PE class? Was it the fact he knew karma had caught up to him? Was it the shock of him being flung back so suddenly when the ball hit his face?

He then snapped his mind back to reality and stopped thinking so deeply as to why he was crying, he slowly stood up, preparing to take his own revenge on Troy, as well as Randy and Keith for laughing at him. But then he heard the PE coach blow the whistle, signalling that it was time to go back to the changing rooms and get ready for their next class. And she hadn't even noticed what happened to Jeff.

Jeff whiped his nose, but it seemed the blood just wouldn't stop. He made his way inside alongside the other students, most of which were staring at him. They all made their way back to the changing room. Jeff made it to his bag and the bag where he would put his PE kit, he started getting undressed, first taking his shirt off, he looked at it, seeing the awful stains the blood had made, he was sure his mother wasn't going to be happy when she found out.

Suddenly he felt a presence behind him, which was more uncomfortable than it usually was, considering he didn't have a shirt on standing in a cold and crowded room full of people he disliked. He turns around to see Randy, Keith and Troy. "Haven't you already gotten back at me? Please just leave me alone," he says.

Randy giggles "No, remember this morning I didn't say I'd give you a bloody nose, I said I'd give you something worse than a bloody nose, meaning we are far from done with you,". The trio surrounded him, Troy and Keith sped to his left and right before he could react, grabbing him by the arms so he couldn't fight back. Randy stares at Jeff up and down "Jesus Christ, do you even eat? I can see your ribcage, meaning it'll just be easier to break it," Then Randy smacked him across the face with his water bottle, luckily the water bottle was plastic, but it still hurt. The smack left a massive greyish purple mark on Jeff's cheek.

Troy then threw Jeff onto the floor, Keith pinning him down before Troy aided him in doing so. Randy continued to hurt Jeff, punching, kicking, slapping, even biting him a few times. Jeff squirmed and yells out in pain with each hit, but the entirety of the changing room either ignored it or cheered Randy on. Jeff kept trying to wiggle his arms free that were being pinned down by Troy and Keith, but it seemed every time he got one arm free it would just be pinned down again.

Randy beat up Jeff pretty badly, but nothing too serious or anything showing any noticeable injuries, afterall he hated facing the consequences of his actions. Randy stood above Jeff and laughed down at him almost menacingly "I knew you weren't as big and tough as you seemed, Jeffrey," he chuckled.

Jeff then realised something, his legs were in perfect range of Randy. Almost on instinct his right leg (which he often considered his stronger leg) shot up right into Randy's crotch, Jeff could almost see it in slow motion as Randy's face curled up, his arms came down the cocky crossed arm pose he was in to hold where Jeff had kicked, and began howling.

But this wasn't as triumphant for Jeff as it seemed, as Troy and Keith were still pinning him down. They were laughing at Randy's expense.

"Oh my god Randy you got beat by this skinny twig again! I guess I'll have to show you how its done, Troy hold him for me," Keith demanded as Troy grabbed both of Jeff's arms and held them behind his head, then Troy stood above Jeff at his left, making sure his area wasn't in the reach of Jeff's legs. Then Troy kicked across Jeff's face as hard as he could. Randy had mainly went for Jeff's torso when beating him, but Troy just kept kicking and kicking and kicking as Jeff cried out.

Suddenly one really hard kick thumped across Jeff's face, causing Jeff to hear a weird cracking noise, and a small but hard object flying across the floor. Jeff then tasted an iron liquid spewing out from where his tooth used to be.

"Keith you actual fucking moron! We can't leave any noticeable injuries or else we'll get into deep shit!" Shouted Randy, the trio, as well as everyone else in the changing room (a lot of people left at that point) stared down at Jeff, expecting him to start wailing and screeching even more than he already had been. But no, he just sat there with wide eyes, tasting the blood in his mouth, some of it now dripping out onto his bare chest.

Then one of the male PE teachers came into the room, it had been a while since the PE class had ended so he had came into the check to see if anyone was still in there. The door opened and the teacher exclaims "Boy, you were supposed to be dressed and in your next classes five minutes ago! What excuses do you have for-"

He looked to his right and saw Jeff, on the ground, shirtless, his arms still pinned down by Troy, and blood spilling out his mouth. The teacher gasped and yelled "What in gods name?!" He immediately ran over to Jeff and asked the surrounding boys "What happened?!"

The trio didn't answer.

Jeff was sent home only a little bit after that incident. He wasn't sure what was going to happen with Troy, Keith and Randy, but he hoped whatever it was it'd convince them to stop picking on him. Luckily for Jeff, the tooth that Keith kicked out of his skull was one of his remaining baby teeth, so he didn't need to worry about any permanent scarring. The taste of blood still lingered in his mouth, Jeff's tongue couldn't help but lick at the gum where the tooth was missing, he liked the taste of his blood for some reason.

"So, your son was being picked on by three of his future victims?" Asked the police officer. Peter Woods had just finished telling a part of Jeff's story, a few incidents that had taken place just a little bit before the incident. Peter nodded "Yes...". The policeman then asked "And did you or your wife do anything about it?", Peter responds "No... We didn't. We thought it was just normal behaviour for kids his age, we didn't think the bullies had caused any real harm. At least thats what we believed at the time... Everyday I wish I could go back and slap some sense into my former self,"

The police officer questioned "You mentioned these bullies had apparently threatened your other son Liu, did they do anything to him after they attacked Jeffrey?", Peter answers "No, they were in detention for most of the day afterwards, so they didn't get a chance to go after Liu,". Then the police officer asks "What happened after Jeff arrived back home?"

Jeff immediately opened the car door, exited the vehicle and slammed the door behind him. Walking in a fast paced speed to his house but not actually running. His Dad slowly followed behind him. Jeff opens the door and begins to run up the stairs to his bedroom before his mother calls out "Jeff can we have a word with you?!"

Jeff slowly retreats down the stairs and travels to where he hears his parents voice coming from in the living room. He stands at the doorway of the living room and stares at both of them, his mom on the couch and his dad standing up beside her.

"Jeff, what happened today?" His mom asked, seemingly concerned "Your school called us saying you had gotten into a fight,". Jeff stares blankly at both of them before saying "These stupid kids, they've been picking on me all day, this is why I didn't want to go to school, I knew something bad was going to happen!"

"Jeff, let me give you some advice, just ignore them, then they'll leave you alone," said his Dad. Jeff stared at him and said "I tried doing that, but they just kept laughing at me,". His Dad replies "I know it can take a while for them to go away, but they will,". Jeff then exclaims "Dad, they literally beat the shit out of me!"

"Language Jeffrey!" His Mom said. Jeff sighs "Mom, can I please do homeschool?". His Mom sat in silence for a few short seconds before saying "No Jeffrey, like I said before nearly every kid in your school is going through the same stress you're going through, you'll grow out of it eventually, plus homeschool is a waste of time and money,"

Jeff looked down "But I haven't seen anyone else get their ass beat while everyone watched and laughed..." He mumbles. "What was that?" His Mom asks, not hearing what he said but knowing he mumbled something. Jeff looks up again and replies "Nothing, can I go to my room now?". His mother nods, before his Dad says "Margaret we can't just do that, we need to get to the bottom of this!". His mother answered "No, no, he'll be fine, it was just one incident, we all went through something dumb like that in school, he will get over it,"

Jeff had already left by the time his Mom had said that, he ran up the stairs and raced into his room. Where he found his notepad and pen, and began aggressively drawing on the paper as he grinded his teeth, he pushed the pen down so hard it created holes in the page. He kept drawing until he heard the front door open as Liu had arrived home from school, but he ignored it for the most part and continued drawing, but then he realised he had drawn on every single page of that notepad.

He threw the notepad across the room in annoyance, it landing on the door and then bouncing off onto the small blue carpet in front of it. Jeff then got another notepad, he was quite tired, so he decided to draw one more artpiece before resting.

Using his blue writing pen that wasn't really meant for drawing this. He drew Randy, on the floor with the perspective leaning above his body, he was sobbing and seemingly screaming as his mouth was wide in horror, Jeff then drew his limbs, that were no longer attached his body. He then drew a sharp weapon beside Randy and scribbled around his limbs to show he was bleeding a lot.

After drawing that last picture, Jeff hid it under his pillow, and tried to nap, but the anger still swirling inside him prevented him from doing so. He really didn't want to go back to school tomorrow, he just knew people would be talking about that incident and laughing at him. Jeff saw the light of the sky piercing out from his window, so he got up from his bed and slumped over to the window to close his curtains.

He then looked out the window and saw people walking into the yard of the nextdoor house, behind them was a blue car and a huge van. People were helping what seemed to be a mother and son move in. He then saw his mom exit their house and began talking to the woman moving into the house with her son. Jeff then closed his curtains and went back to bed, still not being able to sleep.

After 20 minutes, he heard his mother calling him and Liu "Jeffrey, Liu! Come here for a second!". Jeff got up from his bed again, and made his way downstairs, his mother was at the bottom of the stairs, and Liu came from the living room. The boys stood near her, she seemed really excited about something.

"I have excellent news," she states "Some new people are moving in nextdoor, and there's a kid your age, Billy. and its his birthday on Saturday, and his mother said you could both go to his party!". Liu seemed quite happy about this "That's great, I didn't have much to do on Saturday so I'm glad we're going,"

Jeff wasn't too interested, he was a bit annoyed that his Mom had said yes for him to go to this party, but he wasn't too angry. After talking about the party for a bit, Jeff retreated to his room once more.

Nothing much happened that night, Jeff had a nap, went down for his supper, had another nap, and then woke up at his bedtime and couldn't go back to sleep. The next morning he awoke, and decided to just stay in bed, no matter what his mom or dad did or said, he'd not be going back to school.

He stayed in bed even after his alarm went off, and a few minutes after that his mom called him "Jeff! Wake up!" She calls up the stairs. Jeff didn't answer and did not retreat downstairs like his mother wanted. His mom repeatedly called his name over and over, eventually she figured he'd probably slept in, so she went to his room and burst open his door.

"Come on Jeff!" She exclaimed "Its nearly time for school, if you don't get dressed and get your things ready soon you'll be late for the bus!". Jeff lay in his bed and replied "I'm not going today,".

His mother looks at him, wide eyed, and said "You're not going? You're sure as hell going young man,". Jeff had a blank look on his face "No, not after what happened yesterday,". His mother was now getting angry, her tone starting to change from mildy annoyed to frustrated "Jeff you can't not go, its the second day of school for gods sake,"

"What if they beat me up again though?" Jeff asks. His mother then explained "Jeff, what did your father tell you yesterday? Just ignore them and they'll go away,". Jeff continued to refuse to get up "Jeff! I'm starting to lose my patience!" She yelled.

"Why do you not care for me, mom? Why are you so desperate to send me to that horrid place to get beaten up again?" Jeff asked, a bit sarcastically but part of him was actually being serious. His mom looked down at him and shouted "Jeff I do care for you! Its just that you need to go to school!"

Jeff, realising that his mom would've never listened to him, finally got up from his bed "Fine, I'll get ready," he said. His mom sighs and nods "Thank you!". His mom then left, and he started getting dressed for school. After he ate breakfast and got his supplies ready, him and Liu headed onto the bus, luckily this time they had no troubled with Randy, Troy or Keith, but they knew they weren't suspended because the trio were on the bus. Troy and Keith stared at Jeff especially with destain, they must've gotten into big trouble for what happened, and Jeff could see a few bruises on the trios body. Meanwhile Randy just stared out the window, seemingly trying to ignore his surroundings.

The bus arrived at school and Jeff stepped off it, walking to the schools entrance and straight to his homeroom class. Jeff sat down at his chair. He felt Randy and Troy stare at him from behind, but he actually thought that maybe if he did ignore them, they'd go away even if it took a while.

Soon the teacher came into the room, and since most of the students were in there seats and behaving, she didn't go on another lecture about the students behaviour, instead she called a new student to the front of the classroom "Hey Bill, would you like to introduce yourself to the class?"

Jeff recognised Billy as the kid who moved into the house nextdoor.