#like did you see the shit he got up to at brentwood? his ass probably thought that was normal

[bastardizedbitching]

okay i do have a note to make: technically, he would’ve spent most of his time in haunted boarding schools which are a million times cooler. rich people boarding schools are fucking insane

You know... Most of Tims 'uncaring' and 'deadass' expression towards most things is probably because he grew up in an haunted mansion. Like, there is no way that the artifacts his parents brought home weren't cursed or at least haunted. Fucker probably knows some dead languages

[youllneverknowrac]

Oscar Diaz-Kiss

Written for a follower on Wattpad

You were sitting inside by yourself, not really in the mood to go to the carnival with the group. You wanted some alone time, something you regretted as soon as Oscar walked out of the door. You got insanely bored and just wanted some company, anyone’s company. You reach for your phone and click on Oscar’s number, deciding that he’s been gone long enough.

*Where are you :(*, you type out before hitting send.

*Fixing to bounce nena, I got Monse and the other chick with me though. They’re fucked up, Ima give them a ride back to the neighborhood. Trying to get them in the fucking car.*

*Lol, good luck with that. Just try to hurry, okay? I miss you and I’m lonely.*

*Hello?* You double text after getting no reply

*Be home in 10...aye you better not be watching our show.* He reply’s a few minutes later

*Get home and find out.*

Oscar doesn’t reply after that so you occupy your time by cleaning up the small mess you made in the kitchen a while ago after you had decided to bake. As you’re throwing away the now empty bag of flour you hear your boyfriends car pull up. The sound of the doors slamming shut followed by raised voices grab your attention, causing you to look out the window.

“Hey! Take it easy!” Oscar yells to Monse

“Don’t tell me how to take it!” She fires back

“Go home. You’re drunk.”

“You just want me to go home so I don’t say the things that I have to say. But I have things to say and I’m not going home until I say them. So do you ever think about Cesar and how you’re ruining his life? You got screwed and now you’re screwing him up. ‘Cause I got to follow the rules of the streets. Look at me and my muscles. I got a dumb teardrop tattoo, but I don’t cry cause I’m a big man. Toxic masculinity! Look it up!” Monse lectures, you couldn’t help but smirk as you take notice of Oscar trying not to laugh. However if she continued to talk down on your man you would definitely be stepping outside to come to his defense, even though he could defend himself with no problem. Just in case you open the widow a bit more so you could hear better.

“You done?”

“You know what? Everything bad that has happened is because of you. You jumped Cesar into a gang, you tasked him to kill Latrelle, and now because of that, because of you, Olivia is dead, and Ruby will never be the same. You masterminded taking down the Prophets, and we got kidnapped. Now we have to find someone who is impossible to find, and if we don’t...I don’t know what’s going to happen, but whatever it is, it’ll be because of you!” Monse rants, getting cut short as she checks her phone that has been going off,”It’s my mom.”

“Lady in Brentwood? Cesar told me how it all went down. Pretty messed up.” Oscar says seriously, staying calm after the teenagers little meltdown.

“Yeah. Yeah it was. And you know, even after all of that I still reached out. I sent her a letter, but she never wrote me back. Now she’s calling, I don’t get it.” She cries, causing you to feel sympathetic for the girl.

“I know why. It’s for her, not for you. She just wants to clear her conscience. She disappears, comes back, and just expects you to welcome her with open arms? Now she wants to be a parent? Seems like a hell of a lot easier when you don’t actually have to raise a child. Screw that. If I were you...I wouldn’t call that bitch back. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.” Oscar tells her solemnly, his face saddening which causes you to grow sadder as well.

“You’re right. She doesn’t deserve it.” Monse agrees before messing with her phone,”She’s dead to me.”

You glance away momentarily as you take in the scene in front of you, not knowing if it was okay to be spying as she spills her emotions out. They stare at each other for a moments before Monse begins to sob. Oscar awkwardly and unsurely pulling her into a hug. As soon as Monse picks her head up and looks into your boyfriends eyes, you know what she’s going to do. You can’t look away now as their lips press together for not even a second before Oscar takes a step back in shock.

“Hey this never happened.” Is the last thing you hear him say before you walk away and sit down on the couch. Not sure how you felt in this exact moment. You weren’t necessarily angry because Oscar did step away and you didn’t want to be angry at Monse after hearing what she had to say. Plus the fact that she was drunk off of her ass. I guess you’d wait to see it Oscar would actually tell you about the little moment between the two of them before you decide what emotion you were going to go with.

“Nena?” Oscar calls out when he steps inside

“In here!” You call out after clearing your throat

“I know you seen all that. I could feel your eyes burning on the back of my head.” He says after joining you in the living room, walking over and kneeling down in front of you,”You know I didn’t encourage that. It was out of no where.”

“I know.” You smile sadly as you reach out to gently play with the cross that dangled from his chain,” It’s still not something I want to see though. I don’t think any girl would want to see her man kissing another girl....if I didn’t see it though...would you have told me?”

“Of course I would. I tell you everything, don’t I? Besides it didn’t mean shit, she’s just drunk and in her feelings. She probably would have kissed Jasmine if she was right there.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle lightly,”It was just weird to see...cause if it was any other girl I would have been in jail already.”

“Aye if it was any other girl I wouldn’t even be looking in their direction. I only got love for one hyna.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

“Hmm she’s sitting right in front of me.” He smirks as he leans forward to try to kiss you.

“Ah ah.” You say as you fall back against the cushions so he couldn’t reach you,”You’ve have enough kisses for tonight. Go clean your mouth.” You tell him with a laugh, not to found of kissing him right after Monse touched his lips.

“Mami.” Oscar groans as he lets his head fall on your lap.

“Sorry, give me a little time. It keeps replaying in my mind.” You admit as you cradle his head and lightly scratch the back of it. The two of you stay like that for a few minutes before Oscar begins to squirm, his head nudging your belly before biting down on your thigh,”Excuse you.” You yelp as you look down at him,”What are you doing?”

“You didn’t say anything about kissing you down here.” He says, glancing up at you before his fingers hook into your shorts. You’re about to object, until Oscar’s pushing your legs apart and pulling you toward the edge of the cushion.

“You’re right, I didn’t.” You moan as you relax, your hands going back to his head as he works on bringing you pleasure. This sort of ‘kissing’ was one hundred percent okay with you. As long as Monse never did it again, everything would be good in the Diaz household because you already knew the two brothers were going to have a talk about this. Luckily Cesar was a understanding boy and you knew he wouldn’t think to much into it, much like you didn’t. You’re suddenly pulled from your thoughts as Oscar stops his actions.

“I’m down here you know. Am I doing something wrong? You’re checked out.” Oscar says confusingly since you were usually much more appreciative while he pleased you.

“What? No, I’m fine. Shut up.” You breathe heavily as you push his head back down,”Keep going.” You softly demand, letting your eyes shut as Oscar works his tongue on you. This time making sure to let him hear just how good he was making you feel. Which wasn’t hard to do, especially when you knew you’re the only girl that’s ever going to get this treatment from him.

[younghoax]

If you could rewind to any point in your past and start fresh, which point would you choose and why? What do you hope would be different the second time around?

October 15th, 2011. I’d have said yes.

“—and, oh God, Jord, you should have seen her face. Can’t remember the last time I got to see her on her birthday. She was bloody buzzing. Even after everything, she was just… Dead happy,” Curly’s telling him as he shifts from one leg to the other in the space in front of the couch where Jordan sits. “She misses dad—course she does, but I think it helped, me being there. And then seeing all the family together again... It was mint. Like I never left. I-I’m. Here I am, thinking they wouldn’t pick me out of a sodding line-up, but it was like I’d been there the whole time.”

Jordan’s smile is genuine, leant back into the couch with his arms folded over his chest as he listens. “Good,” he hums. “We’ll save up some cash, a’right? So I can come with you when y’go back.”

He expects it to have Curly nodding like crazy like he does, hair bouncing over his eyes but, instead, the man stops, stammers a bit as he says, “well... I-I’ve been thinking about that. Was gonna say.”

He doesn’t want Jordan there. That’s the first thought that pops into his head. J’ll never fit in at one of those huge family dinners Curly talks about. Always just been himself and his mom – wouldn’t even know how to handle it. He’s already screwed shit up with Curly’s mom, why would they try with his dad’s side of the family? They’ve probably seen pictures of him. Hate him. Well, fuck ‘em. He’s never needed a fucking family, sure as hell doesn’t need Curly’s. If anything, he’s fucking lucky he—

“What if we moved back? Like… What if both of us moved. To Brentwood.”

“W—” It’s the dumbest idea he’s ever heard. Even harder to swallow than the idea of Curly’s family exiling him. He’s got an internship coming up. Got a good enough job for now – just got promoted even, and has college classes a couple times a week. They saw an apartment yesterday, and tomorrow they’re gonna go look at another one just a couple blocks from the bar, above Dean’s uncle’s shop. His internship will be done soon enough and he’ll be making a good buck there. Jordan doesn’t think ahead – why the fuck would he? Life’s thrown enough fucking curveballs. He has this time though, thought ahead, that is, and this ain’t gonna be another one of those times where he paves the way, then gets dragged off the track. All these reasons have a hell of a lot to do with him though, and very little to concern Curly. Except for the pure fact that he fuckin’ wants him here with him.

“Your mom, Curls,” is the reasoning he settles with. Curly moved all this fucking way for her in the first place, after all. “She’ll be alone.”

Curly just shrugs, clearly already carried away with the idea. “She’s got Dom. My grandparents, too. She dun’t need me here anymore. Not like Gee does.”

Of course. He always agonised over the possibility of his little sister drifting away. Of course it’s about Genie. J had expected their first meeting in a couple years to hit home. Have Curls cleaning up his act, saving some money for more trips… He hadn’t considered that Curly would be thinking about a permanent move. For just one, sickening moment, Jordan wonders if this is a case of them choosing between Jordan’s future and Curly’s family, or more a case of Curly choosing between his family, and… Well, Jordan.

Fuck it—fuck that. There's no fucking question here - because what's Curly gonna do in England? Go back to working at that coffee shop? Get fired because he's always off his face or off sick and dresses like he just came from a fucking rave every day of his life? Keep selling his drugs and stop seeing his family anyway because he can't look them in the eye any more than he can his fucking mother’s? Fuck that. They're staying right here-- both of them.

“Curls, no, we can’t. We got shit happenin’ here. I can’t go. I got that internship thing – think it’s gonna work out for me, a’right? And that apartment we’re gonna see… Curl’s it’s… Fuckin’ perfect. We got each other. I ain’t got family on the doorstep neither and I’m alright, yeah?” He has a hand around the man’s wrist then, tugging him down until he’s perched on the edge of the coffee table. “Brockton’s home. We ain’t leaving.”

Curly just stops though, picking at the skin around his nails as he breathes deeply in thought. He leans forward, elbow on his knee and chin in his hand, fingers curled to cover his mouth like he always does. It’s muffled by his hand as he says, so quietly that some of the words get caught in his throat, “I aren’t happy anymore, J.”

“What?” J scoffs, chews on his lip as he considers this. “Sure you are.” Or, he will be. Can’t be expected to feel happy again already – two weeks since his dad’s funeral. “Y’got me, ‘ight? Of course we’re fuckin’ happy,” Jordan insists and he tries to laugh because God, what a dumb fucking thing to say. He ain’t happy? He’s mourning. “We got each other. We’re sweet.”

“Can you think about it?” 

“I mean.” Jordan searches for the words. Fuck, he ain’t moving to fucking England when he’s this close to having his shit together here. “No, doll. M’sorry but.” J shrugs. “I ain’t doin’ it. Couple weeks and you’ll be glad I said no, a’ight?”

He never did tell Jordan he wasn’t happy after that. Easy enough to assume he was, then. The relapse that followed was the worse J had ever seen.

We’da gone to Brentwood, he’d have worked his ass off at that coffee shop and I’d get an internship some place else. Make some honest cash, probably crash at his dad’s place ‘til we can afford our own. Get him some help that we don’t need to worry about affording. Free healthcare and all that. Sounds boring as shit but we’ll be happy.

Would have been, I mean.