#lui's strange celebration

[spicysix]

📖 + "I think... I'm in love with (Name)" || "Congrats on being the last one to find out" prompt w eddie omgomgomg💗 also congrats on 400 angel <33

thank you my loveee ���💖💖

here comes, hope you like it! (a little dialogue heavy, sorry for that!)

join the celebration!

every day for us, something new

"Gonna make some more popcorn, guys! Get the next one ready," you said, getting up from the couch where you were sitting between Eddie and Argyle.

"Get me another coke, please!" Robin, from the floor, asked.

"Oh, get me another beer, sweetums, will 'ya?" Eddie joined in.

"No one else ask me anything, I don't have hands for more!" you exclaimed before leaving for the kitchen.

Movie nights were routine at this point. After all the trauma and the babysitting and the saving the world, the least you all deserved were some fun nights chilling with your friends. Steve or Nancy would host, you'd all take turns choosing movies for the week, and you'd get together to watch and gossip and just be around each other in non-threatening ways. There was no bond like the one created between life-or-death situations.

Eddie's eyes followed you as you walked out of Steve's living room. Jonathan chuckled.

"What?" Eddie asked and Nancy and Robin groaned in unison.

"You are. So. Dense," Nancy complained.

"I don't think he's dense, I think he's just stupid," Robin completed. Eddie hated how she and Nancy came to sharing a single braincell lately.

"C'mon, let's take it easy on our brochacho. The matters of the heart aren't easy," Argyle said, words all considerate but his smirk was nothing but teasing, and Eddie wanted them all to just shut the fuck up.

There was a loud noise from the kitchen, and Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

"Don't worry, I'm okay!" you called out before anyone could even say anything, to Eddie's relief, and he sat down again.

All of his friends were looking at him funny. What was this plot against him, honestly?

"What's going on?" he asked, waving his arms around in annoyance.

"Dude. Use a single neuron. You'll understand," Steve advised, letting out a dramatically exhausted sigh.

Eddie just stared back at them, one at a time, for several minutes. Trying to find the answers in one of his friends' eyes, or just hoping to be scary enough to make them tell him at once.

"I can't do this, he's the dumbest man alive," Jonathan said after a long while in silence.

What were you even doing in the kitchen for such a long time? Popcorn gets ready in like, five minutes.

"He's never been in love before, maybe he just doesn't recognize it," Steve pitched in, and he knew that information because Eddie had told him once.

What did it have to do with anything?

"What does being in love has anything to do with this? Who's in love here? No one's in lov-" he started, and then he stopped.

Thought about your smile, and that funny little laugh you saved only for his stupid jokes. The way you'd hug him tighter and longer than everyone else. The way you and Robin shared perfumes, a fragrance he didn't really like much, but on you he'd love - something about the way it'd interact with your natural skin smell, and it intoxicated him in the best of ways. He thought about how soft your skin was, and how he loved when you ran your fingers through his hair. He thought about how he thought about you first thing when he woke up, and he thought about you last thing before sleeping. How he thought about you even when asleep - how he'd dream of you, and him, your hands clasped together, your lips on his.

"Oh my god, I think I'm in love," he muttered.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out," Nancy answered. He just looked at her, freezing, hands trembling a little. "What are you thinking about so much, just go!" She nodded at the kitchen and, once again, Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

He practically ran to the other room.

"Steve, your cabinets are a nightmare," you said, back turned to the door as you heard steps.

"Not Steve," he said, and you turned to face him. That smile, the one reserved just for him, on your lips.

"Eddie! Here to help me? Does anyone want something else?"

He just shook his head and walked closer to you. Took your hand on his, and your skin was just as soft as he thought about constantly.

"Is everything okay?" you asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, just came to a realization."

"Care to share with the class?" your words all teasing but your smile was nothing but sweet. He wanted to kiss you.

"I want to kiss you," he said out loud.

Your smile grew wider, "Well, do it, then."

And he did. And it was so much better than in his dreams. Yous lips were soft and tasted of whatever soda you were drinking, and your hands craddled his neck and you sure could feel his pulse going a million miles per second. But he didn't care, because you seemed eager for more, tongue poking at his lips and he let you in, and it was like fireworks exploding inside his head. He feelt fuzzy, and warm all over, and the happiest he's ever been. Because he's in love with you, he realized, and he was kissing you and you were kissing him back.

It felt like years before you separated, both panting a little.

"Oh, man, I like you so much," you mumbled, lips still almost pressed to his so he feelt every vibration in each of your words. It tingled him, head to toe, in and out.

"That's my realization," he responded, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again when you heard steps behind you.

"C'mon, slow lovebirds, where's my damn popcorn? I wanna watch the sequel!" Robin showed up, picked up the popcorn bowl and her coke before leaving again.

You and Eddie laughed, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again.

Neither of you got to watch much of the sequel.

[pedripics]

IBAI x PEDRI - January 2, 2024 (summary)

He’s doing okay but things are a bit tough at the moment

He spent Christmas at home in Tenerife with his family

They play 'Suika Game' a lot in the dressing room (but on the phone and not the PC because it's free there lol)

He laughed a lot with Piqué in the dressing room. Piqué didn't really like training sessions but he was very good in the matches

Have you ever looked at Pique and thought that if you wanted to, you could dribble past him 7 times? - "Yes (laughs)"

Ferran has supported him a lot and is always there for him

Ferran takes the shark mentality very seriously, so Pedri gave him some shark slippers and now Ferran wears them in the dressing room

He tries to help Gavi every day because he knows what it's like to be injured for a longer time and he's confident that he will come back in great condition

Pedri does pilates now after Puyol recommended it to him

Pedri has Aleix García in his Fantasy team (his brother is first, he is second)

He rarely uses Twitter, he uses Twitch and TikTok more

They are behind Xavi 100%

In his opinion, Neymar looks good with every hairstyle

Girona are playing very well and he thinks that they could win LaLiga

Jordi Alba and Piqué were always fighting but that's how they got on. They just liked to fight lmao

Vitor Roque is wonderful, he is always happy, whenever Pedri sees him he is smiling

He doesn't like press conferences at all because they are a bit disturbing as all the journalists stare at you while you just sit there

In the Premier League, they are able to spend 80 or 90 million for players which is unbelievable. In La Liga, academies are what makes the difference

They don't really talk about the Super League in the dressing room

Boca Juniors or River Plate? - He's only watched one game and Boca won, so Boca

For Pedri, Busquets is the best No. 6 in history

His favourite player is Iniesta (in case you somehow didn't know that yet)

His favourite XI in history: ter Stegen, Jordi Alba, Piqué, Ramos, Alves, Xavi, Iniesta, Busquets, Ronaldinho, Ronaldo (after being forced by Ibai), Messi and Luis Enrique as a Coach (he changed out Ronaldinho for Neymar later)

Luis Enrique doesn't have What's App. If you want to talk to him, you need to send him an SMS

He was nervous when scoring the decisive penalty against Real Betis because the goalkeeper was a giant

Hardest defeat: penalty shootout against Italy (Euros 2020)

He supported Argentina in the WC final (for Leo)

He would like Haaland to sign for Barça (in his words "as a replacement for Lewy because he won't play for us until he's 60") and he also really likes Julían Alvarez (agent Pedri 👀)

His first friend at Barça was Trincāo

A dream: to win the Champions League and the World Cup

Before games, he likes to listen to slow Spanish music (Julio Iglesias? - "Maybe (laughs)")

His favourite singer is Quevedo (everyone act surprised please)

Vitor is only 18 years old, you cannot ask him to be the new Pele, but he has a lot of confidence from the club

He normally always stops for fans but there are always the same 5-6 TikTokers in front of the training ground so he sometimes doesn't stop if it's just them

He is rewatching Prison Break at the moment, even though he's seen it two times already. The first season is the best one in his opinion

He used to watch anime but not anymore

Kounde has the confidence to wear anything

They should listen to the players more because the calendar is so tightly packed right now and there are too many injuries

He would like to score more goals

He found scoring goals strange when he was younger because he never knew how to celebrate and all he did was run and look stupid

Ibai breaks his computer mouse and engineer Pedri tells him to plug it out and in again (Pedri indeed managed to fix it)

Favourite place in Barcelona? - Camp Nou ❤️

Ibai and Pedri played 'Guess these 100 Players' and Pedri guessed 94/100 right (and Pedri realised he doesn't know enough South American players)

[thecomicsnexus]

TMNT: 40TH ANNIVERSARY COMICS CELEBRATION

July 2024

By Kevin Eastman, Edgar Alan Poe, Jim Lawson, Tristan Jones, Gary Carlson, Chris Allan, Erik Burnham, Lloyd Goldfine, Ciro Nieli, Andy Suriano, Tom Waltz, Ronda Pattison , Tom Napolitano, Steve Lavigne, Paul Harmon, Frank Fosco, Adam Guzowski, Sarah Myer, Luis Antonio Delgado, Shawn Lee, Khary Randolph, Emilio Lopez, Michael Dialynas, Pablo Tunica, Freddie E. Williams II, David Petersen, Ken Mitchroney, Aaron Hazouri, Dan Duncan, Sophie Campbell, Jodi Nishijima, Stan Sakai, and Emi Fujii.

Come and enjoy stories that will remind you of the 40 years of turtle history.

SCORE: 10 *

* Assuming you are familiar with these iterations.

This is a strange read, and curiously, there are three or four highlights for me, and they are not exactly the ones you would imagine.

Spoilers after the break...

The first story by Kevin Eastman is in the Mirage section of the book but... well... I'll leave at that... I wouldn't call it the Mirage we knew.

There is a story by Lawson and Lavigne with the Rat King that... it's fun. But, you know... I wouldn't even try to fit it in canon... the amount of continuity physics you need to bend to place this story is not worth the time. Just enjoy as a new story by these two iconic Mirage artists.

This other story by Tristan H. Jones and Paul Harmon requires more analysis. I'll revisit it on my gang wars video and try to give it more context... but unfortunately... it's just too vague. All I can say for sure is that it happens in the future of that incomplete saga, but the narrator just takes too many artistic choices to be taken at face value.

Also... I believe this is the first official (frontal) appearance of Agent Bishop (unless I got the character wrong, but Jones already tried to introduce him in this saga). I think he is still holding on to it, and I really hope he gets to tell his story. I wouldn't mind a mini-series... just saying!

The Volume 3 story was... not for me. The dialogue alone felt tired.

The Archie adventure was short, eventful, and funny... and it looks amazing too!

In just four pages a new character was introduced and... a new love story was implied! And it's not just a gratuitous cameo... this is a funny sequence.

The Saturday Morning Adventures (the de facto 87 story) looks amazing as usual, but I didn't find the story that interesting. However, it started a theme that would run across most of the stories in this special after this one: Master Splinter.

The 2003 story is a... loose canon?

Hun is Slash, and Shredder is back... so make of that what you want. All I'm going to say is that this felt a lot like watching the beginning of a 2003 episode, with the narration setting the tone.

The 2012 story was one of the least interesting in the previews, but I have to say... it was probably one of the best. It brought back a villain and it technically serves as an excuse to continue the series?

But to me the best thing about the story is the art. I am surprised Ciro Nieli didn't do more comic book work for the Turtles all these years. In fact, if they somehow decided to continue the 2012 universe in 2D in this style... I'm all in. Well, who am I kidding... I would be in anyway... but this looks amazing.

Andy Suriano did probably the most interesting story in the book. Now, I am not sure if his style doesn't translate well to static panels or what the problem is with the comic format... but it doesn't matter... this small story brought in a lot of things that ended on the editing floor after the show's second season was reduced to a few more episodes. There was a rumor about a female turtle, and not only it is here in all its glory, but there is also a brother?

And come on... it's so Lou Jitsu to die with a cliffhanger.

There are two IDW stories. One is another Splinter story, but the other one is perhaps one of the best in this book.

The Ronda Pattison story takes place just before the Armageddon game, and it shows the five turtles in full sibling dynamic (even Jennika). It was refreshing to see these turtles having fun for a change.

There are no stories by the new team, but... well... that's just starting.

[empiredesimparte]

Oliver: The Polytechnique ball thinks big! Napoléon V: I suggested the Garnier Opera to the school president. You've got to have a bit of fun!

Oliver: How did your honeymoon go? Napoléon V: Very well, thank you. It was strange to be cut off from the world, away from all the hustle and bustle of Paris.

Oliver: Good! You needed a rest. By the way, I thought it would please Hortense to have an estate in Francesim, so that we could visit you from time to time. Napoléon V: That's a good idea, I like knowing that my twin sister won't be too far away from us.

Oliver: Of course, don't worry, I'll look after her… That is, if you agree, officially Napoléon V: Officially, so that's it?

Oliver: Yes, I've been ready for several months now. I'm sorry again for all the trouble I've caused you, it wasn't… Napoléon V: Let's not talk about it any more. It's all settled. I know that Hortense will be happy with you, surely … more than with me.

Oliver: You were born to take different paths. At this time in your lives, the distance is natural. However, I believe I can echo Hortense's sentiments that she loves you dearly, no matter what and despite everything that has happened. Napoléon V: Thank you, Oliver. I'm counting on you to look after her.

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Paris, 17 Messidor An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

Napoléon V and his entourage went to the Grand Bal de l'X, organised by the École Polytechnique to celebrate the end of their year of study. The ball took place at the Opéra Garnier, and featured a number of performances including dances, fencing, a choir and many other distinguished ceremonies. It's a not-to-be-missed event for young students. During the evening, Oliver approached his friend Napoléon V to officially ask for his sister Hortense's hand in marriage. The Emperor agreed to make the engagement official.

(Thanks to @theroyalthornoliachronicles and @funkyllama for the sims deco and accessories! Oliver is a character belonging to @officalroyalsofpierreland)

⚜ Traduction française

Napoléon V et ses proches se rendent au grand bal de l'X, organisé par l'école Polytechnique pour fêter la fin d'année d'étude. Le bal se déroule à l'opéra Garnier, et donne lieu à de nombreux spectacles comme des danses, des combats d'escrimes, une chorale, et bien d'autres cérémonies distinguées. C'est le rendez-vous immanquable des jeunes étudiants. Durant la soirée, Oliver approche son ami Napoléon V pour lui demander officiellement la main d'Hortense, sa soeur. L'Empereur accepte d'officialiser les fiançailles.

Oliver : Le bal de Polytechnique voit les choses en grand ! Napoléon V : J’ai proposé l’opéra Garnier au président de l’école. Il faut bien s’amuser un peu !

Oliver : Et ta lune de miel alors, ça s’est bien passé ? Napoléon V : Très bien, merci. C’était étrange d’être coupés du monde, loin de toute l’agitation parisienne.

Oliver : Tant mieux! Tu avais besoin de repos. À propos, j’ai pensé que cela ferait plaisir à Hortense d’avoir un domaine en Francesim, pour que l’on puisse vous rendre visite de temps en temps. Napoléon V : C’est une bonne idée, j’aime savoir que ma jumelle ne sera pas trop éloignée de nous.

Oliver : Bien sûr, ne t’en fais pas, je prendrai soin d’elle… Enfin, si tu y consens, officiellement Napoléon V : Officiellement, alors ça y est ?

Oliver : Oui, cela fait plusieurs mois que je suis prêt. Encore désolé pour tous les ennuis que j’ai pu t’attirer, ce n’était pas… Napoléon V : N’en parlons plus. C’est réglé. Je sais que Hortense sera heureuse avec toi, sûrement … plus qu’avec moi

Oliver : Vous êtes nés pour prendre des chemins différents. À ce moment de votre vie, la distance est naturelle, mais je crois pouvoir me faire l'écho des sentiments d'Hortense qui t'aime tendrement, quoi qu'il arrive et en dépit de tout ce qui s'est passé. Napoléon V : Merci Oliver. Je compte sur toi, pour veiller sur elle.

[desired-misery]

BOW!Leon WIP | Part 2

[warning for references to animal abuse in the past]

Concern starts to brew that afternoon when 537 repeats the same behavior; staying completely inside the crate again even after shedding the sedation— which they can track with confidence now that the biometric reader is reporting on heart and breathing rate. There is an initial spike in both that correlates to 537’s twitching and its eyes opening, but that flattens out and remains stable. 537’s eyes open, it flicks its ears towards the sound of the air conditioning kicking on, it moves a little in its sleep, but it does not leave the cramped crate. Not for water, not for food. It still does not move when all the lights are turned off for the night. The recording proves that it has remained in the same position when they all come back for the fourth day.

“BOWs can starve to death, right?” Luis asks no one in particular. It is a stupid question because obviously anything with a metabolism needs energy, but it is weird that it isn’t eating. The rotting pig carcass is foul— if they weren’t already wearing hazmats with appropriate filters, the smell would have been miserable.

The day’s objectives switch from general study to tracking back through files. It is how they get their first glimpse of the real situation, the horrible, vile behavior shown to 537 prior— Luis shouldn’t be surprised; humanity has always been the worst species; they are the ones to create BOWs, time and time again to tear each other apart—

But watching a video in which 537 is inside an open cage, hunched over itself like an abused cat, watching from the person inside its enclosure in the old facility even though there is nothing protecting the man from an attack, they realize that there is something far more sinister going on than just strange BOW behavior. In the video, 537 shoves itself further into the corner, head pressed flat against the ground, ears plastered to its head, the spines along its back raised but its tail is tucked like a terrified dog, its eyes are huge— its body language is projecting immense levels of fear, which does not make sense until they find more. . .. ... .. .

They are all horrified. 537 truly believes that staying inside the crate is its only option, conditioned to remain there through torture— because that is what it is, they’d call it torture if it was any other creature, even a BOW can be abused— they just watched it happen, recorded as if it was something to be proud of, to celebrate—

537 needs to be counter-conditioned as quickly as possible because it might very well be starving to death. The safest, most efficient option is going to be terrifying to 537, but no one has any better ideas: take the crate away, force 537 to learn that the floor isn’t electrocuted, it isn’t going to be punished for existing in its own enclosure. To do this, 537 is sedated again. Instead of taking 537 out of the room within the crate, 537 is pulled out of the crate as soon as its vitals reflect the full dose taking effect. The crate is dragged away, leaving 537 alone to wake up.

Luis is not the only person to stay to watch, but he is the most outwardly emotional about it at the start. Things get way worse for 537 when it starts to come to. The spike to its heart rate is normal, but then when it blinks and looks around, it takes less than three seconds before it starts screaming—

Someone mutes the microphones so the speakers aren’t filled with 537’s fear, but the enclosure is not meant to be soundproof. The screaming is quieter, but not silent. 537 staggers to its feet, still screaming like they are treating it the same way— its heart rate triples. It does not need to be a recognizable animal to understand that this BOW is experiencing indescribable terror. Its head swings around for its escape, all of its eyes huge, black with dilated pupils. It is clumsy as it scrambles for the back wall—

It throws itself at the bars, crashing into it with enough force to make Luis flinch and worry for its health. It slams itself into the bars again, again. Luis has the awful realization that 537 might not be trying to escape; it might be targeting the bars because it is visually the most similar to its crate. 

It stands on its hind legs (if Luis wasn’t horrified, he might be more impressed to see that 537 is able to go bipedal like a bear), tail lifted to not touch the floor, hoping from leg to leg because it believes it is about to get shocked any second… or perhaps it actually feels like it is, so terrified that it is incapable of realizing that nothing is hurting it right now, it is only experiencing phantom pain from memory—

Luis wishes he could explain that it is okay, they aren’t going to treat it like that— it should have never been taught that— but what can you do with a panicking BOW but watch it through the one-way glass, silent with sickening disgust and soul-cutting empathy as it tries to climb the bars to keep itself off of the floor. It slips and touches the floor again over a dozen times, but no matter how many times it touches the floor, 537 does not seem to understand that this floor is safe.

[autisticlancemcclain]

parts 1 2

--- --- ---

Christmas with his Pa was a pretty simple affair. His Pa wasn’t very religious, and always kinda busy, but he made time for a little tree and a couple presents every year. Keith still has the sketchbook and Crayola pencils he got for Christmas the year before Pa died. He hasn’t used them since that horrible February night, and he probably won’t ever.

But Christmas with the Esposita-McClains is a whole other ballpark. 

Christmas isn’t the first celebration he’s had with the McClains. There was his birthday, a month and a half before — Marcela had taken him, Lance, and the rest of the siblings to laser tag, which had been fun. Lance had gifted him one of his prized heart-shaped rocks from his collection. He’d also made Keith a cake — “All on my own!” (Only he’d forgotten to beat the eggs, and so when Keith cut the cake he’d found a full egg yolk, cooked at the bottom. Poor Lance was mortified, but Keith laughed so hard Veronica had been a little panicked and forced him to take a puff of her inhaler so his lungs didn’t give out. Keith still ate the cake — it was delicious, minus the egg.)

Christmas, though, has a little more pomp and circumstance. Technically, he’s supposed to spend Christmas with the fosters, but he’d informed them he had plans and they didn’t ask questions, so he packed his bag on December 20th — the last day of school before winter break — and went home with Lance. 

He spends the days leading up to Christmas making several dozen paper snowflakes and garlands with Lance and Rachel, helping Miguel — Lance’s papà — decorate the tree, and baking with Marcela and Marco. Luis and a heavily pregnant Lisa are also staying over, so it’s a pretty full house. 

Keith decides he liked all the fuss.

On Christmas Eve, Keith goes with them to Mass, and honestly kind of enjoys it even though Lance complains the whole time. He’s never been before. It isn't exactly fun, or anything like that, but it’s new and strange and that’s enough to keep Keith’s interest. (Not Lance’s, though. Lance fidgets the whole time and occasionally points out silly figures he imagined in the marble floors. He also tries to start a game of double-o seven with Keith, but Marcela shuts that down remarkably quickly, which is a bit of a relief. Lance always wins that stupid game and Keith hates it).

But despite the lovely stained glass and almost cult-like chanting, the magic doesn’t start until they arrive back home. The first thing Lance does is sprint up to his room, dragging Keith behind him, to shuck off their stuffy church clothes and scramble into pajama pants and chunky sweaters (knitted carefully by Lance, with his Abuela’s guidance. The sleeves are wonky, and there are stitches sticking out all over the place – it’s the comfiest thing Keith owns, and his favourite sweater in the whole world.) They stomp down the stairs, Lance making a beeline for all the presents under the tree and Keith settling down a few feet away to watch. 

(Keith has spent several years of his life imagining the perfect Christmas he might have some day. He’d imagined the perfect tree, the smell of cinnamon and sugar wafting through the air, delicate ornaments hanging everywhere, beautiful presents under the tree. His main frame of reference are movies and T.V. shows, books and the odd advertisement, and they all painted the flawless image of What Christmas Looks Like. Keith doesn’t like to get his hopes up too high, but he does enjoy indulging his imagination. 

The tree at the McClains is a mess of decorations. Lance and Keith had started putting them on nicely, but Lance had teased Keith for being a slowpoke part way through and they’d dissolved into a competition. Miguel had laughed and indulged it. The house certainly smells of something, and it is definitely the garlic knots Marco burnt. Marcela has had every window in the house open for hours now, and it has done next to nothing. The ornaments hanging around the house are the paper snowflakes Keith and Lance had made earlier, and they’d run out of white paper quickly and used their old homework instead. Miguel had forgotten to buy Christmas wrapping paper, so every present is wrapped with bright pink paper with ‘Happy Birthday’ patterned all over it. Someone (Lance) had taken the time to scrawl ‘Jesus’ after every ‘Happy Birthday’ in a green marker, to make it more festive.

Keith wouldn’t have it any other way.)

Lance must spend twenty straight minutes begging his parents to open presents early, trying every plea he can imagine, but it’s an amused but firm ‘no’ every time. Every no makes Lance flop dramatically into Keith’s lap with a groan of equally dramatic misery.

Eventually, after hearing twenty minutes of Lance’s begging, Keith starts to get a little overexcited, too. Marcela had hugged Keith tightly when he’d asked to stay with them over the break, talking as quickly as her son often did about the presents she’d bought him and the traditions they would share with him. Keith trusts Marcela, trusts all the McClains, and so he’s been enjoying letting his imagination run wild with Lance every night. So after Miguel and Marcela refused Lance’s early present request for at least the thirtieth time, Keith nudges Lance, giving him a Look. Lance, used to Keith’s Looks, understands immediately, trying to duck his head to hide his grin. Keith puts on his best puppy dog eyes and turns to Miguel and Marcela.

“Can we please open one present, Marcela? Just the one?”

As expected, both adults soften immediately, exchanging a look. Keith and Lance do the same, smirking at each other. They are opening those presents tonight, yessir. 

“I suppose just the one would be fine,” Marcela concedes. 

Lance and Keith whoop and cheer, scrambling for the tree –

“Hold it, you crazy kids,” Miguel calls. They pause, looking back impatiently. 

“Aw, what for?” Lance whines. 

“There’s one condition,” Marcela says, raising a brow. 

“We get to pick the presents,” Miguel finishes. 

Keith and Lance exchange another look, shrugging. 

“Sure,” Keith agrees. 

Marcela and Miguel grin, looking almost excited as the boys. They rustle around the present pile for a few minutes, just long enough to make the boys antsy. Eventually they grab the parcels, handing them to each kid in turn, both so excited they’re nearly vibrating. 

To Lance, Miguel hands a decently large box, almost a foot and a half in length. It’s clearly heavy, as Lance nearly drops it when he gets a hold of it, misjudging its weight. To Keith, Marcela has to drag over a box – it’s so large it’s very nearly taller than Keith, and it’s certainly wide enough that he could fit inside it if he so pleased. Keith stares at it with wide, incredulous eyes. 

“This is for me?” he asks, breathless. 

He can’t remember the last time he had a present. Let alone one bigger than him.

Marcela smiles softly. “One hundred percent of it.”

As enthusiastic as Keith was a few minutes ago, suddenly he’s nervous. He doesn’t know why. But he has a persistent voice in his head telling him as soon as he opens that box, the illusion will shatter, and he’ll go back to being on his own. Everything has just been too wonderful so far. He feels like the other shoe has to drop at some point. 

“You go first,” he blurts, looking at Lance. 

Lance must notice his trepidation, because he holds Keith gaze carefully for a few moments before letting his excitement take over again. 

“Okay!”

He tears into the wrapping paper, revealing a white and brown box with ‘SINGER’ printed in all caps on the side. He gasps. 

“My own sewing machine! For me! Oh my gosh oh my gosh or my gosh, is it really for me?”

Miguel laughs, reaching over to ruffle his son’s hair. Lance is so excited that he doesn’t even complain about it (which is wild, because the last person to ruffle Lance’s hair was Marco, last week, and Lance had bitten him hard enough to break skin).

“All for you, kiddo. Now you don’t have to drive your poor Abuela insane with all your begging to use hers. You guys can work together!”

Lance squeals with joy, rushing over to crush both his parents in a huge hug. He even hugs Keith, even though Keith had nothing to do with the gift. Keith can’t say he minds, though. Lance is a good hugger. 

“It’s your turn now, Keith!” Lance says as he pulls back from the hug. He’s beaming at him, but Keith can’t quite find a smile himself. All of his nervousness and terror hits him at once, full force, and he can feel tears prick at his eyes.

“What’s wrong, mijo?” Marcela asks softly. Kindly. Kinder than any other adult has talked to him since his Pa, really. The thought of his Pa makes him cry harder. 

“If I open the box you guys are gonna forget about me,” Keith chokes out. 

It doesn’t make sense, not really. There’s no logic he can follow. But there’s a tight ball of dread churning in his stomach, and all he can hear is Ethan’s taunting, the last foster family – “Sorry, but we just can’t keep him any longer. He’s too much.” He can hear his current foster mother, sighing every time she sees him. He can hear his social worker, turning to him with tired eyes – “What am I gonna do with you, kid?” – and his chest hurts and his eyes blur and his hands are sweating because the Esposita-McClains – Lance – they’re nice, too nice, and they love him, but they don’t know all of him. They don’t know the parts of him that are hurting and broken and sharp and unloveable. Because so much of him is – no one loves him for long, and he’s the only constant in the equation, so it has to be him. He’s the issue. There’s something wrong with him, and soon the Esposita-McClains – soon Lance – are going to see it, and they’re going to take a few polite steps back and tell him he has to stay away, now, and Keith won’t even blame them. 

“Oh, Keith,” Marcela says, and then he’s folded into a hug so tight he can hear his bones creak. “Oh, mijo. Mi hijo precioso. Mi estrellito brillante. There is nothing wrong with you, my love. Nothing at all. You are not unloveable, you are not broken, you are not sharp. You are good and kind and brave and you are loved, mi hijo. So loved. I love you. Miguel loves you. So does Luis, and Lisa and Marco and Veronica and Rachel; they all love you. And Lance, baby, Lance loves you so much. Did you know that he talks about you every single day? Every day. Even before I got to meet you, Lance was rushing home after school saying ‘Mami, mami, you should hear what me and Keith did today, he has so many good ideas! And he’s so good at reading, Mami, I saw him read a whole chapter book in one day! He’s so cool, Mami, I can’t wait for him to come over.’ Why, it eventually came to a point where I thought you must be some kind of child celebrity, with the way Lancito talked about you!”

Keith sniffles, some of his tears slowing down. “Really?” 

Marcela continues to rock him gently, tucked in her arms, as if he’s two instead of ten. “Yes, mijo, really. There is no one on this planet who loves you as much as we do, pobrecito. Nobody.”

“We love you to the moon and back,” Miguel adds, voice just as soft and honest. 

“To the Sun and back! No, more! I love you more than there is love on Earth!” Lance insists, and it doesn’t make sense, but it does make Keith feel better. 

Keith looks at them all for a moment. His tears have made his vision a little blurry, but no one looks away from him, each one of them holding his gaze gently. Marcela still has her arm tucked around him. Lance scooches forward to grasp his hand. Miguel grins at him brightly. 

He can trust them. He knows he can. And even if this comes back to bite him in the butt later – well, why would he ruin it now?

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay. I love you too.”

Marcela presses a smacking kiss to his forehead, making a loud ‘mwah’ noise. “Good, mi estrellito brillante.” My bright little star. Marcela calls him that often. “Open your present, my love. That will dry your tears.”

Keeping a tight grip on Lance’s hand and staying right where he is in Marcela’s lap, he does. He reaches for the goofy wrapping paper with his free hand, tearing carefully at first, then digging in at Miguel’s gentle teasing. The paper pulls away to reveal a big, beaten cardboard box – thick and solid, so there’s nothing to indicate what’s inside. Briefly, Keith considers the possibility of him getting the puppy he’s always wanted, but dismisses it just as quickly because the box has no airholes. Also, Lance has been begging for a pet every single day for as long as Keith’s known him, and he has gotten absolutely nowhere, so. Probably not. 

Unable to quell his curiosity any further, Keith stands, carefully opening the flaps and peering inside. What he sees makes him gasp sharply, eyes going wide. 

Books! Dozens of them! Paper and hardback and new and used and fiction and non-fiction! Enough reading material for months, at the very least! 

“Oh my God,” is the only thing he can think to say. He reaches in the box just to run his fingers along the spines of a few titles: Magnifico. The Marrow Thieves. A Thousand Nights. So many books he’s never even heard of, and more that he’s been looking forward to reading. 

“I’ve been making a few stops at the thrift store every couple of days since you’ve been staying over,” Marcela says quietly, running her hand through his hair. “And one of Miguel’s coworkers has a daughter who’s moving out, so she had lots of books she was thinking of getting rid of.”

“And I told her about how much you wanted to read the Percy Jackson series!” Lance boasts. “We had to take a secret trip to Indigo when you weren’t looking. I made sure to pick out the ones with the nicest covers – not a scratch, promise! Well, except for the one I dropped. That one has a dent. Sorry.”

Keith feels tears well up again, but this time they’re not sad tears. He turns around and shoves his face into Marcela’s neck so they don’t drip onto his new books. 

“Thank you,” he cries, voice muffled into her shoulder. She chuckles softly, tucking him closely and pressing another million kisses to his hair. He can feel Lance wiggling into the hug on his left side, and Miguel’s warm hand on his right shoulder. 

“You’re welcome, mijo.”

He loves the Esposita-McClains. So much. 

—

“Hey. Hey. Keith. You awake?” 

Keith pulls the covers from over his head, blinking as his eyes adjust to the low light of the room, meeting Lance’s gaze. He has his own bed in Lance’s room now, because Marcela had claimed that she was tired of coming to check on them in the night and seeing her ���horrible sleeper of a son flail and kick and steal all of the covers”. She’d dragged them both to Ikea, letting them play hide-n-seek in the displays and even buying Lance the toy shark he begged for. (Keith teased him about being a baby, but then Lance put his hands on his hips and gave him a Look – that he’d copied directly from Lisa whenever Luis and Marco started wrestling on the living room floor and almost broke things – shoving a toy hippo in his hands and telling him he was just as much of a baby as Lance. 

Keith took the hippo. Because Lance made him feel guilty about leaving it behind, not because he agreed. Obviously.)

“Yeah, I’m awake.”

Lance is quiet for long enough that Keith thinks he might have fallen asleep. 

“Do you wanna exchange the presents we got for each other?”

“Christmas is tomorrow, Lance.”

“I can’t wait! You’ve been all suspicious for a million years. I want to know so badly. Don’t you want to know what I got you?”

Honestly? Yes. Keith does. Lance has been strutting around like a proud peacock all week, and Keith is intrigued. Lance is a pretty good gift giver. Keith keeps the heart-shaped rock he gave him in his pocket, and he holds it when he’s feeling nervous. It’s nice. 

“...Yeah, okay.”

“Yes!” Lance cheers, quickly scrambling out front he covers and digging around under his bed. Keith does a flip off his bed, somersaulting when he hits the floor and crawling to the closet. He moves the mound of stuffed animals off the floor until he uncovers a thick envelope, crawling back to the middle of the room where Lance is practically vibrating in excitement, the glow of the fairy lights reflecting off his brown eyes and making them look like they’re shining. 

“Me first!” 

“You get your present first or give it first?” 

“Give it, duh. That’s more exciting.”

Keith shrugs. “If you say so.”

He’s lying, of course. It is exciting, but Lance gets all grumpy when Keith pretends to be super serious, and it’s hilarious. Right now is no exception, and Lance glares at him until he finally cracks a grin. 

“Here,” Lance says, smile quickly coming back to his face as he shoves a box in Keith’s lap. “Open, open, open.”

“Okay, jeez. Hold your horses.” Despite his teasing, Keith can barely contain his excitement as he rips into the wrapping paper. He accidentally opens the box upside down, and when he tries to lift it a million little papers fall into his lap, along with a stapled booklet. 

“What is it?” Keith questions, gathering the papers. 

Lance beams at him. “Origami paper! You like to fold stuff, but it always takes you a million years to rip the regular paper into squares. I measured a bunch of papers and cut them, so you don’t have to anymore, and you can go right to folding! Oh, and this –” he reaches over and picks up the booklet, flipping it over so Keith can see the title. “I went to the library and copied out that origami instruction book you always use, so you don’t have to keep signing it out. Now you have it!”

Carefully, Keith takes back the booklet, flipping through the stapled pages. There are dozens of them, page after page of instructions copied in Lance’s neatest, most careful handwriting, along with several pictures he traced from the book. The book and the papers – God, this must have taken Lance hours.

“You did all this? For me?” Keith can’t quite keep the bewilderment out of his voice. He doesn’t even – he doesn't even know what to say. 

“‘Course! You’re my best friend! Let me know when you run out of paper, I’ll cut you more.”

Keith swallows the lump in his throat, carefully setting down his gift to squeeze Lance tightly. 

“Your turn,” he says once he pulls away. 

If possible, Lance’s grin gets brighter. Keith places the envelope in his grabby hands, biting his lip as Lance opens it eagerly. He’s careful not to rip anything. He slides out a stapled bundle of paper – not dissimilar to his own gift to Keith – and has to muffle his own shout when he reads the title. 

“Our story! You actually – oh my gosh! Keith!” Lance briefly flicks his gaze to Keith, mouth wide in gleeful shock, before eagerly leafing through the little book. 

Keith grins. He has been working on this forever – an illustrated story of the space ranger game they’ve been playing since they met. He even used up three entire blue and red markers colouring in the space armour he designed for them.

“Veronica helped with the story typing,” he admits, “but I did all the drawing.”

Lance sets the book down to flap his hands in delight, smile so wide it squishes his cheeks and squeezes his eyes shut. He practically tackles Keith in a hug, Keith’s head just barely missing the bedpost. 

“Oof.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Keith smiles softly. “Of course.”

It takes them a good while to wind down enough to get back to bed – both of them can barely put their gifts down, but eventually they manage, Lance tugging the blankets and pillows off his own bed and piling them on Keith’s. This isn’t uncommon – Keith has his own bed now, but he frequently wakes up to one of Lance’s arms flailed on his face and his body nearly pushed right off the bed. Lance claims he gets cold on his own, which is ridiculous, because he has five of his own blankets and somehow most of them end up in a tangled mess by his feet when they wake out. 

But Keith doesn’t really mind.

“What are we gonna do tomorrow?” Keith whispers once they’re settled. 

“Whattaya mean?” 

“Well, we already opened our presents, right? Is your mom gonna be upset that we have nothing to open tomorrow?”

Lance props himself up on his elbow, looking at Keith with his head tilted. “Keith, don’t be silly. Mamá y papá got us a bunch more presents. Plus, there’s Santa.”

Ignoring the flutter in his chest at the mention of more presents – more? Than the two he’s already got? – Keith raises an eyebrow. 

“You still believe in Santa?”

“Of course not,” Lance scoffs. “Rachel told me the truth when I was four because she’s meanie. But Vero told me to drag it out as long as possible, so that way we get more gifts and sweets and stuff.”

“Oh, smart.”

“Yep.”

“...Do I get Santa presents?”

“Yes, obviously. You’re part of this family, are you not?”

This time, the flutter in his chest spreads all the way up to his face, and he smiles so wide he feels his cheeks might explode. 

“Yeah. I guess so.” He turns over, hiking his blankets up to his chin and blinking at Lance. “Night, Lance.”

“Night, Keith! Love you.”

“...Love you too.”

[aoyama-division]

It was early spring as the city of Aoyama was sparkling as ever. Although, It seemed shinier ever since Aoyama’s own Jet Set Trio just celebrated their next anniversary. Not only that, A surprise was definitely waiting for them…

A surprise from the 2nd team of Fukuoka, Of course…

Inside Tomi Choten’s mailbox…Was his phone?

“Hey, JST. You’ve probably heard of us before, But we’re OverDrive, Fukuoka’s 2nd team.” Eko informed.

It was a message?

“We just wanted to wish you guys a happy anniversary. Consider it as a milestone for JST, I guess.” Mai explained.

From Fukuoka?

“Have a happy anniversary, OverDrive wishes you the best on your rap journey.” Yuno complimented.

“We’ll probably see you guys in the DRB, So have some fun till then~!” OverDrive said in unison as the message ended.

"I think I met these guys on my birthday a week ago!" Karada yelled.

"You did?" Luis asked, a cigarette in his mouth, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, they suddenly just appeared on my T.V. in my living room while I was watching something." Karada explained. "It was freaky!"

"On your T.V.?" Luis asked, skeptical.

"I know it sounds odd, but it's the truth! I thought I was on a secret channel or something."

After being alerted that he had located Tomi's cellular device in the mailbox, the Chōten family butler, Hino, returned it to his proper owner, who was sitting with his friends in his family's liquor room. Upon activating it, a strange message appeared on the socialite's cell phone, which was addressed to not only him, but also the rest of JST.

"What I want to know how these peons got a hold of my cell phone in the first place." Tomi stated as he swiped through his phone, making sure everything was how he had it. "Much less how they got inside of it."

"Are you sure you didn't just leave it sitting around somewhere at a party or something?" Luis asked.

"Do not insult me, Luis." Tomi said, frowning at his acquaintance before going back to his phone. "I keep my cell phone with me at all times. I have sensitive information on this thing. The last thing I want is anyone getting their hands on it."

"Well, so much for that." Luis said, rolling his eyes as he stubbed his cigarette out in an ashtray.

"You might wanna go take it to a shop or something in case someone hacked it." Karada suggested.

"Or better yet, just buy a new one." Luis stated, shrugging his shoulders. "No offense, but it boggles my mind how someone as materialistic as you still held onto a phone that old."

"...Maybe that would be for the best." Tomi agreed, looking at his cell phone. With a sigh, he placed it down, making a mental note to have Hino dispose of it later. He frowned as he realized he was going to have to go through the whole ordeal of making sure his new phone was exactly the way he wanted, which was going to take a serious amount of time.

"Ugh, the ways of peons never ceases to amaze me..."

[itlivesproject]

What is each of the mod’s favorite, absolutely based quotes from the game?

Mod win:

“You deserved the world, and all you got was a coffin.” That quote just slaps and I’m so proud of it every time I see it. Also I love the Lincoln one: “I’d take the hurt over and over again if meant that someday, I’d get to meet you.”

Mod M:

"angler"

Mod Maggie:

“Look how self-righteous they are. I wonder if they’d feel the same if they were made to die.” —MC ch22

“You and me, Ro, forever. We just have to make it to tomorrow.” / “To tomorrow.” —Abel and MC ch21

“It’s just… he’s dead, Rowan. He’s dead. He’s dead and I’m still here.” —Connor Green ch9

Mod shionch:

"That’s the thing about love, you must celebrate when it hits you, no matter how strange or commonplace. Now go and seek out yours, even if your one true love is yourself." Luis Munson, ch 19

[kumamoto-division]

The sun was setting in Kumamoto, casting a warm glow over the quaint little library nestled in the heart of the city. Aoba Yamamura, the librarian and division leader, was just about to close up for the day when a delivery man arrived with a large, carefully wrapped package.

"Delivery for the Strange Magic team," the man said, handing over the package to Aoba, who thanked him with a puzzled smile. The package was unexpected, but the label indicated it was from Luis Kōkyū, an acclaimed chef known for his culinary masterpieces.

Aoba called his friends and teammates, Kunio and Natsume, to join him in the library’s cozy back room. Together, they carefully unwrapped the package to reveal...

...a stunning rectangular-shaped cake with purple and black frosting, the words 'Happy Anniversary, Strange Magic' elegantly written across it. In the center, a beautifully crafted triquetra symbol added a touch of mystery and elegance.

The trio was touched by the thoughtful gesture. As they admired the cake, Aoba noticed a small envelope tucked under the lid of the box. He opened it to find a note written in a certain chef's elegant script:

"Dear Aoba, Kunio, and Natsume,

Happy Anniversary to the team of Strange Magic. Your dedication to your crafts and the magic you bring to Kumamoto does not go unnoticed. Though I cannot be there to celebrate with you in person, I send this cake as a token of my admiration and congratulations.

May the year ahead be filled with joy, creativity, and the continued success of your endeavors. I look forward to the day we can share stories and learn from each other.

Warmest regards, Luis Kōkyū"

"wow, kōkyū know how make a cake"- Kunio said taking a photo,admiring the dessert as his husband goes for a knife to cut it

"yeah,he know"-said Aoba reading the card that Luis wrote

He looked at the cake and a joy smile appeaars in his face thinking about how Luis made this for him and his team

"you can feel something for him but remember, he never will to accept the darkest You and less loving you,loving us"-Aoba hear that thought and he can help but be agreed with him

(after all Luis can get along with Aoba but he never would accept or love Bluefire)

Aoba out of his thoughts when Natsume offers him a piece of cake with a smile at his friendly face and look

"here,is for you....Sophia"-said Nastume calling Aoba by the female name he use sometimes

Aoba/Sophia nodded happily and take the plate with cake,a take a bite with the fork and test the piece of cake

He smile at the flavor

Chocolate with blueberries. That is his... favorite

Thanks for the gift!

[bonescribes]

I write like

Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson (13 November 1850 – 3 December 1894) was a Scottish novelist, poet, essayist, and travel writer. His most famous works are Treasure Island, Kidnapped, and Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

A literary celebrity during his lifetime, Stevenson now ranks among the 26 most translated authors in the world. His works have been admired by many other writers, including Jorge Luis Borges, Ernest Hemingway, Rudyard Kipling, Marcel Schwob, Vladimir Nabokov, J. M. Barrie, and G. K. Chesterton, who said of him that he "seemed to pick the right word up on the point of his pen, like a man playing spillikins."

tagged: @thuganomxcs ( thank you !! <3 ) tagging: you!

[spicysix]

Lui, congrats on 400 followers! 🩵

For the celebration, if I may request: 📖 + stuck in an elevator + steve and fem!reader

thank you babe!!! hope you like this! 💖

join the celebration!

if it rises fast

“Oh, no. Not this again,” you complained as you felt that robotic hesitation as the elevator went up, as you heard its gears trying to work and not fully doing it.

It slowed down... slowed down... before stopping. Completely.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you rubbed your eyes.

“What’s going on?” The voice behind you startled you a little.

You forgot there was a guy with you, he was so quiet as the elevator rose the first few floors. You turned to face him, and got a little blown away by how beautiful he was. Like, magazine front page beautiful. Shiny hair carefully coiffed up, pretty peachy lips, a little mole or two that gave him an extra charm.

You got lost in the dude’s beauty for a little while.

His lips perked up a bit, as if he knew why you were staring at him for so long.

“Oh, uh. The elevator gets stuck sometimes. Such an old thing, y’know. Lots of complaints, and they haven’t updated it yet,” you finally answered, and his lips and eyebrows turned down into a frown.

“It’s happened before?” he questioned.

“Yeah. With me in it, two times already. I’ve heard it from five other neighbors too,” you said, remembering how much Ms. Durvall from sixth floor yelled when she complained about it. She gave you the creeps. “You’re new here? Or visiting?”

“Uh, new. Moved in with two friends, we just got to the city a week ago. We’re from a- what are you doing?” he stopped his life story when he saw you sitting down.

“I’ve pressed the help button,” you nodded to a little button pressed all the way in the control panel. “Don’t know what it does, maybe it calls the fireman? But, anyway, it’s gonna take some time. Maybe a few hours.”

“A FEW- Jesus, Robin’s gonna kill me,” he hid his face behind his hands, and you had to suppress a giggle at how adorable his whine sounded.

“Don’t worry, your girlfriend will understand when she finds out you had no choice but to stay stuck in an elevator,”

“I’m not so sure, she’s terrified of elevators, told me to get the stairs. She’ll probably be all like, ‘oh, I told you so!’. Ah, and not my girlfriend. She’s actually dating our other roommate,” he said as he sat down too, pressed against the other metallic wall, facing you.

“What floor are you guys in?”

“Eight.”

“And she goes up the stairs every time?” You didn’t know whether to be scared or admired.

“Yeah. Got some killer calves,” he smiled. “We have a terrible history with getting stuck on elevators. I worked my ways through… well, a lot of therapy. Now I can ride them again after a few years, but she never got past it. I can understand why.”

He said it in such a way that you didn’t feel like prying. There was something else in that story, something he probably didn’t wanna talk about, so you didn’t ask.

“You guys from around here?” you asked instead. You were going to be stuck for a while there, it wouldn’t hurt to make some small talk and get to know your pretty new neighbor.

“No, actually, we’re all the way from Indiana. Small town,” he shrugged.

“Why San Francisco?” you asked, and he searched for something in your eyes, your face, before answering.

“It’s safer,” he answered only, again not giving you space to ask further. Maybe he didn’t find what he was looking for. “You’re from here?

“Born and raised, yeah.” You went quiet for a little while, trying to come up with something to talk about. Then, you noticed: “I don’t know your name yet.”

“I don’t know your name either.” He smirked. “I'm Steve.”

You introduced yourself and Steve asked more about you. You lost track of time talking to him, learning how charming he could be, but also really funny — in a bitchy way. He talked about Robin, his best friend and platonic soulmate, and their friend Nancy, who he used to date but now they’re great friends (you got the impression that Nancy was the other roommate that Robin was dating, but didn’t ask, not wanting to make him uncomfortable). He told you about two other friends of theirs who lived back in Sacramento, one who lived in LA, and a bunch of other younger friends who were scattered around the country all chasing their dreams. Talked about his work as a school counselor, how it took him some long years to figure out what he wanted to do professionally.

You told him about yourself too, answered everything he asked honestly and openly. Talked about your job, your own roommate, your other friends and family. Gave him tips on the best places to visit and shop in the city, ways for him and his roommates to contour the ‘new citizens’ weird phase. You talked about music, movies, books, food, your favorites and the ones you hated, anything you’d come up with.

He was sweet and charismatic, and always found new topics for you to talk about. He read you like a book, figuring you out in no time and swerving the conversations so easily. Flirted a lot too, which was great for your self-esteem.

He came closer at some point, sitting beside you, and then you faced each other more closely. And from that distance you could see every little detail in his pretty face, studied him with precision. You could look at him for however long, to be honest, and you wanted to memorize every tiny inch of what made him, him. The curves of his hair defying gravity, the scars on his forehead and nose, every little green spot in his hazel eyes. Count every and each one of his eyelashes, and get blinded by the way he smiled.

More than that, you could talk to him for however long, and you wanted to. Wanted to learn about all of his many friends, who he talked about with so much love in his voice, who all sounded like a big family to him. Wanted to learn the story with the elevator trauma, wanted him to trust you and open up to you, and wanted to do the same back with him.

It was weird to you, you’ve never felt this way before — so magnetically pulled to someone’s orbit. But Steve’s voice was like a Siren’s call, and there was a funny bubbling in your stomach that wanted and wanted and wanted him.

You never thought you’d be disappointed with the sounds of the elevator’s gears running again, and yet you hid a frown when the doors opened to show you a fireman, the building’s janitor and a tall, skinny girl with a strawberry blond bob pacing anxiously behind them.

“Steve! Oh, my god, Steve!” she said when she noticed you and Steve sitting on the floor, and she wasted no time getting past the other two men to throw herself at the one by your side. Robin, you figured. “You fucker, I told you to use the stairs!” you heard her saying, a little muffled from where her face was buried into Steve’s neck.

He looked at you over her shoulder and you smiled at the way he was right about her.

“I’m okay, Robs, I had good company. Didn’t even have time to get stressed,” he said, running his hand up and down her back in a soothing gesture, his eyes still on you, his smile just for you.

Robin sat up and looked at you, and you introduced yourself and she did the same. She thanked you for being there for Steve, as if it hadn’t been a total random accident, but you were also happy that you’ve met him. More happy that you could say out loud.

You all got up from the floor, left the elevator, and you offered a day to throw them a welcome diner, you’d invite your roommate and they could call their other friends. Robin seemed excited, all big gestures and loud voice. You liked her.

Goodbyes were said, you were going back to your place — through the stairs this time, thankfully you lived on the second floor — and they were going grocery shopping. Robin walked to the front door of your building, but Steve stayed planted in front of you for a while as you looked at each other and you tried not to smile too wide.

“Can I take you out on a date?” he asked after a while, fingers twitching and you wondered if he wanted to touch you. You wanted him to touch you.

“First one in the city?” you teased and he huffed a laugh while running his hand through his hair.

“One of many with you, I hope. No one else caught my eye, if I’m being honest.” The man was straight forward. You felt you cheeks burning, couldn’t hold back the wide grin anymore.

“You’ve been here just a week, Steve,” you said, warned him almost, because you wanted so much with him, and you were afraid of were this could go if it went wrong.

“Meh, it took me a while and some bumps to the head, but now I’m pretty good at knowing what I want. Don’t gotta search for so long anymore.” His eyes were staring deep into yours, and you felt his hand coming to find yours to hold.

You bit your lip and his eyes traced the movement, and there was a butterfly party in your stomach.

“Someone told me there’s a great restaurant just at the end of the street,” he said, referencing one of the tips you gave him early.

You laughed. “Yeah, okay. Take me out on a date, Steve. Next Friday?”

“I’ll be counting the days.” He took a step closer, his thumb was tracing patterns on the back of your hand and your skin was tingling. “Can’t believe I’m glad to have gotten stuck on an elevator. Well, create good memories to overlap the bad ones, I guess.”

“I’m looking forward to create other memories with you,” you almost whispered, because being that open was scary, and the way you wanted him so much was scary, but he smiled at you again and it was blinding in the best way.

“Me too, honey. See you around,” he said, before pressing a kiss on your still burning cheek, and you could smell his scent of soap and fabric softener, hairspray and fancy cologne, and you had to hold yourself back not to get buried in his skin.

God, it was pathetic how far gone you already was.

He walked away still facing you, holding your hand until the very last possible second before letting go, and you could hear Robin laughing in the background but you only had eyes for him.

Yeah, you’d also be counting the days.

[another-heroine]

WIP Wednesday

And who could say that I would post another The Windmill wip? lol

No Lights Out

Luis' eyes were getting heavy, but the little boy refused to sleep. Listening to abuelo reading for him was always soothing and exciting; the old man used to tell stories about princesses and dragons, shiny armored knights, greedy goblins and trickster witches. Sometimes he read, sometimes he narrated by heart. But every night, it was special and full of adventures.

“After his master’s wedding, Puss in Boots decided to put his gloves down. Or better saying, his boots. He lived for a long time besides his family and helped the kingdom to flourish. And even after many years, everybody knew about his legend. The End.” Abuelo closed the large book, leaving it on the bedside table.

Luis yawned, “Having a talking cat must be fun. Can we get one?”

“Well, if I find one out there, I'll let you know, niño. Now, come. It's too late.”

The grandson agreed and crawled under the blankets. The man covered him properly, puffing his pillow and making sure he was comfortable.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Sí, abuelo.”

“Did you pee?”

“Sí, abuelo.” Luis frowned, embarrassed.

“Um, you better have done it, boy. Buenas noches.”

“Buenas noches, abuelito…”

When the boy noticed Old Serra reaching the switch of the table lamp, his voice cracked, “Could you please let the light on?”

The grandpa tilted his head, but there was no mockery in his voice, “I thought that you already got used to sleeping with the lights off.”

Luis hid his nose under the checked blanket, gazing at the projected shadows. “I... I think there are monsters inside the walls.”

“What? Why?”

Luis muttered, “Every night I hear something scratching them from inside. And when it’s dark, it’s worse.”

António looked at where the boy’s fearful eyes were pointing. Everything made sense; there were a few days when he was woken up in the middle of the night by an anxious child. He stated, “Oyé, niño, there is nothing to worry about. It must be some mice. We will get rid of them soon.”

Luis didn’t look convinced, but he swallowed hard and insisted, “But... can you still let the light on?”

“Of course.” The man patted his head. “Until you feel more confident, ay?”

Luis nodded with a coyly grin.

...

There he was again, surrounded by familiar faces, feeling the roaring voices echoing inside his chest. The crystal chandeliers shimmering in gold lights, and while the music was playing out loud, waiters were passing by him, carrying silvery plates full of delicacies and the finest drinks.

Another enterprise success to be celebrated.

Luis was tapping his foot on the floor, feeling uneasy. Usually he was among the crowd, being the party heart, but that time was different…

How could they celebrate after that incident? It was their fault and, if they were in Raccoon City that time, they would surely be eliminated like their co-workers from the other side of the ocean.

Such greedy hypocrites.

The music started to change to a strange tune, but it didn’t seem like anybody cared about it. Luis looked at his side and froze in spot; there were dozens of red eyes lurking the drunken elite from outside, their bloody hands scratching the windows. Before he could react, they heard screams and glass shattering. The party has been invaded by zombies, a crimson wave seizing everything on their way. The crowd spreaded, some people were trampled to death, while others were preyed on by the ferocious invasors. Luis couldn’t move but watched the slaughter with horror, until he woke up sweating profusely.

The room was dark. He flickered the switch many times, but it looked like the lamp had burned out.

“Joder…”

He stumbled out of bed, groping around and avoided hitting any furniture. Luis touched the switch of the ceiling lamp and it lit on. He sighed, relieved.

Meanwhile there were zombies scratching walls in his nightmares, there were a couple hitting the headboard against their party wall.

It was 2 a.m, Luis was restless, that motel bedroom smelled funny and the lovebirds next door couldn’t drag the bed from the wall. Lovely.

[wormdebut]

WIP WEEKEND

Lets Fuckin' Go. This is fun as heck and one of my fav taggo games. Tagged by @spicysix Thank Lui! Please go check out their Strange Celebration Xx

RULES

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post.

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in or just post.

*Optional: Respond to the ask with the lines you wrote.

WIPS

Boys Kissin' Boys 2 - Electric Fuckaloo

Cut It Looser STILL - Part 3

Cut It Loosest - Part 4

Kiss Your Knuckles (Before You Punch Me In The Face)

Scars (STEVE POV DRABBLE.)

SNIPPET

“Oh no, Indy. Since we got Freak back, the powers that be decided to take Jeff out.” He puffed his lip out before continuing on. “If only there was a sexy little piece of ass, that not only plays guitar like a filthy little angel, but doubles as a hot little bassist side piece.” Eddie tapped the microphone to his cheek, “Any ideas boys?”

I'm gonna tag @sourw0lfs @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @ghosttotheparty @eddywoww and any other dudes who wanna share your work!

[parkerbombshell]

Cobwebs And Strange Radio Show #373

Cobwebs And Strange Radio Show  Mondays 12 noon EST , 5pm BST , 9am PDT COBWEBS AND STRANGE #375 Adam & The Ants - Physical (You’re So) (B-Side Babies, 1994) David Bowie - Cracked Actor (Aladdin Sane, 1973) Chime School - Say Hello (The Boy Who Ran The Paisley Hotel, 2024)* chimeschool.bandcamp.com Primal Scream - Silent Spring (Sonic Flower Groove, 1987) Mercury Rev - There’s Always Been A Bird In Me (Born Horses, 2024)* Pink Floyd - Flaming (The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn, 1967) David Gilmour - Yes, I Have Ghosts (Luck And Strange, 2024)* The Wombles - Womble Of The Universe (Keep On Wombling, 1974) The Monkees - Door Into Summer (Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd., 1967) Olivia Newton-John - Please Mr Please (Have You Never Been Mellow, 1975) The Luxembourg Signal - We Go On (The Luxembourg Signal, 2014)* theluxembourgsignal.bandcamp.com Rosalie Cunningham - Return Of The Ellington (To Shoot Another Day, 2024)* rosaliecunningham.bandcamp.com Focus - Hocus Pocus (Focus II / Moving Waves, 1971) Jórge Negrete - México Lindo y Querido (Fiesta Mexicana, 1959) Pepe Aguilar - 100% Mexicano (100% Mexicano, 2007) Maria de Lourdes - Canción Mexicana (La Canción Mexicana, Vol. 1, 2009) Luis Miguel - El Viajero (Mexico en la Piel, 2004) The Linda Lindas - No Obligation (No Obligation, 2024)* thelindalindas.bandcamp.com The Fall - City Hobgoblins (Singles 1978 - 2016, 2017) Franz Ferdinand - Audacious (The Human Fear, 2025)* Napoleon XIV - They're Coming To Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa! (They're Coming To Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!, 1966) Beauty In Chaos - Made Of Rain (Dancing With Angels, 2024)* beautyinchaos.bandcamp.com The Awakening - Fault (Anthology XV, 2015) The Cords - Bo’s New Haircut (single, 2024)* thecordsband.bandcamp.com The Pooh Sticks - Alan McGee (John Peel Session 19/04/88) (Unreleased) The Courettes - Keep Dancing (The Soul Of The Fabulous Courettes, 2024)* Strawberry Switchblade - Dance (David Jensen Session 07/10/82) (Unreleased) The Very Things - I Said Yeah (Mr. Arc-Eye (under a cellophane sky), 2024)* theverythings.bandcamp.com The Veras - Nothing Comes For Free (Get It While You Can, 2024)* spinoutnuggets.bandcamp.com The Woggles - Time Has Come (Time Has Come, 2024)* thewoggles.bandcamp.com Vigilance State - Llorona (single, 2024)* vigilancestate.bandcamp.com Red Velvet - Cosmic (Cosmic EP, 2024)* Sabrina Carpenter - Bed Chem (Short n’ Sweet, 2024)* JET - Hurry Hurry (single, 2024)* Ultra Orange - Au contraire (Palindrome Fantôme, 2024)* Snowgoose - Better Listen (Descendant, 2024)* badabingrecords.bandcamp.com The Hummingbirds (USA) - April Skies (The Tribute To The Jesus And Mary Chain Countryfied Compilation, 2017) altcountryfiedtributetojamc.bandcamp.com The Open Door - Toy Balloon (The Direct Records Story, Vol. 1, 2024)* No thee no ess -  Laid back and wondering (Distant Country, 2024)* Rockers Galore - Celebration Life (Vamos A La Playa, 2024)* rockersgalore.bandcamp.com Santana - Jingo (Santana, 1969) Thee Sacred Souls - Waiting On The Right Time (Got A Story To Tell, 2024)* theesacredsouls.bandcamp.com Millie Jackson - (If Loving You Is Wrong) I Don't Want To Be Right (Caught Up, 1974) Edwin Astley - Theme From Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased) (Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased): Original Soundtrack, 2013) MAZE - Joy & Pain (Joy & Pain, 1980) Tommy Cash - Six White Horses (Six White Horses, 1970) John Howard - A Day Laye (Songs For Mr. Feld EP, 2024)* Read the full article

[the-foolish-scholar]

Three of Cups

In the Three of Cups, three youths are dancing with each other in a circle, raising their cups high in the air in a toast of joy and celebration. They look to one another with appreciation, honor and respect, and are bound by their emotional connection and friendship. There is a sense of lifting each other up and celebrating each other’s unique contribution to the group. The ground is layered with flowers, fruit and a pumpkin, symbolizing the celebration of an abundant harvest and the goodness in life.

-

Yowdy. Mix of y’all and howdy. I was super tired but then I made the mistake of drinking pop and now I’m Hannah Horvath coded post tweeting “All adventurous women do.” IFYKYK.

Life continues to play out like an episode of Fleabag but I try to channel Barbie energy throughout all of it.

I’m in the process of moving out of my current apartment into a new one farther away from my comfort zone. It feels strange and kind of scary but it’s time. Mao made some points and that’s all I’ll say…

I’m gonna miss the San Luis because every time I walked around the neighborhood, I felt like I was with my younger self. I know that sounds crazy. But I think that there was such a healing aspect to living here as an older and wiser version of myself. It was like I got to do what I did at 18 all over again but actually be present and feel in control during it.

The new place is actually going to work out better for my budget too… The irony is that I picked this place because I thought it would be better for my budget… But in reality I just forced myself to suffer?

But also, it wasn’t suffering living here. It was just a different version of suffering. Oh to be a Camus girl surrounded by Sartre fans!

What I mean is that, I’ll be trading my frequent bucket showers and beautiful view for breathtaking foliage and surveillance… So maybe I’ll be a Foucault girl by the time the new lease is up! Yes, my new apartment has cameras in the common areas! It’s like living in the panopticon (:

I know, I know, I’m too paranoid for my own good. But Orwell wrote 1984 for a reason!

Ahhhh yeah. What else? I got contracted to teach for a big chunk of February which is good because I need money to survive but also because my new place is just a block away from the school! My other job is going well too and things are actually playing out quite harmoniously because I’m helping my boss restart her SAT tutoring business that went on hiatus during the pandemic. I’m extremely thankful that I’ve been able to foster the relationships that I have because I really wouldn’t be able to do anything without my community down here.

It’s all so beautiful. And so reassuring. To know that you can travel anywhere and meet kindred spirits.

Speaking of kindred spirits! I got to spend some time with the folks from Marquette! I got some DCs and swam and played with the kids and it was so good for the soul. I recommended we go to this one restaurant that I like a lot but every time I’ve been there I’ve been the only person eating in that restaurant… We had the whole place to ourselves when we went out there again and it was an experience for sure! The adventure didn’t end there though, somehow, I ended up exploring the tunnels underneath the Sheraton! It evoked the memory of when the janitor took us into the bomb shelters underneath Anderson at the Valentine’s Day dance…

But yeah… The shenanigans should probably stop… The semester is about to start for my master’s program…

It’s so nerdy but I’m so excited to be in classes again. It feels so good to be challenged in an academic environment. And to have the opportunity to learn about the bible from empathetic academics and not some homophobic and patriarchal nun… With a developed frontal lobe… Oh, the symbolism will do me so good!

Also, I’m stoked to work on projects with my contacts from the Political History of El Salvador program! We’re going to professionally record songs written in memoriam of martyrs from the civil war and lay the foundation for future projects.

I guess that’s it really? I don’t know what else to tell y’all. I miss you all back home. The few of you that actually read this, lmao. I’m crafting a digital footprint, for you! Be grateful! It terrifies me! But on the brightside nothing I post will ever be as embarrassing as my rendition of My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean… Which is quite meta as someone living abroad if I may say…

[honeyleesblog]

July 9 ZODIAC

Horoscope and character for those brought into the world on July 9 They are upright individuals, with an obviously shown feeling of obligation. Conduct optimists, they can be clever and have a significant sense for human expression. Notwithstanding, they are very delayed working. Honorable and social, they impact their current circumstance and as of now in their childhood they have numerous companions. They appreciate logical examinations, travel, disclosures, and their life for the most part permits them to travel a ton. They have solid person and temper. Their energy and functional abilities permit them to assume a noticeable part in the general public to which they have a place. They need to take care of the relative multitude of issues that worry them, explain all that is hazy, and resolve social issues, frequently contrary to stereotypical conclusions or convictions. They need numerous things yet, most importantly, to be social reformers. They can turn into an improvement factor and a wellspring of data for some individuals. What compromises them? They risk perils hiding in the water, of which they should watch out. What would it be advisable for them to yearn for? Individuals conceived today are excessively touchy, and this becomes more grounded as they age. They experience everything around them intensely, and an undesirable climate can expose them to torture. In this way, they should endeavor to foster a specific close to home childishness that they could then use to shield themselves against the hostilities of others. On the off chance that they don't, their strange awareness could jeopardize them of misfortune.

July 9 ZODIAC 

 On the off chance that your birthday is July 9, your zodiac sign is Disease July 9 - character and character character: great hearted, devoted, ready, relaxed, bad tempered, mean calling: writer, concierge, dental specialist tones: blue, red, earthy colored stone: agate creature: pigeon plant: milkweed plant fortunate numbers: 8,12,15,29,36,38 very fortunate number: 7 Occasions and observances - July 9 Bahai religion: suffering of El Bab (1819-1850). Colombia: Day of the Virgin of Chiquinquirდ¡. Chile: Banner Day, in memory of the Combate de la Concepciდ³n. Pledge to Palau: Constitution Day. Old Roman celebration: Caprotinia, feast (only for ladies) of the goddess Juno Caprotina, for the slaves. South Sudan: Freedom Day (2011). Argentina: Freedom Day, for the marking of the Demonstration of Autonomy in the Congress of Tucumდ¡n in 1816 (public occasion). July 9 Superstar Birthday. Who was conceived that very day as you? 1901: Barbara Cartland, English author (d. 2000). 1905: Clarence Campbell, Canadian ice hockey player (d. 1984). 1907: Eddie Senior member, American artist and entertainer (d. 1999). 1908: Paul Brown, American football trainer (d. 1991). 1909: Manolo Caracol, Spanish flamenco artist (d. 1973). 1911: Mervyn Peake, English essayist and artist (d. 1968). 1911: John Archibald Wheeler, American physicist (d. 2008). 1914: Willi Stoph, German government official (d. 1999). 1915: David Jewel, American author (f. 2005). 1916: Julio Romero, Argentine government official (d. 2011). 1916: Edward Heath, English government official and state head (d. 2005). 1918: Alდ­ Chumacero, Mexican writer and supervisor (d. 2010). 1922: Angelines Fernდ¡ndez, Mexican entertainer and joke artist of Spanish beginning (d. 1994). 1924: Josდ© Luis Alonso Manდ©s, Spanish theater chief (d. 1990). 1924: Julio Elდ­as Musimessi, Argentine soccer player (d. 1996). 1925: Master Dutt, Indian entertainer and producer (d. 1964). 1926: Ben Roy Mottelson, Danish physicist, of American beginning, Nobel Prize in Material science in 1975. 1926: Pedro Dellacha, Argentine footballer (d. 2010). 1927: Susan Cabot, American entertainer (d. 1986). 1928: Federico Martდ­n Bahamontes, Spanish cyclist. 1928: Adolfo Garcდ­a Grau, Argentine entertainer (f. 1993). 1929: Hasan II, Moroccan ruler (d. 1999). 1929: Lee Hazlewood, American author. 1932: Roberto Goizueta, Cuban-American money manager (d. 1997). 1932: Donald Rumsfeld, American lawmaker. 1933: Josდ© Libertella, Argentine bandoneonist (f. 2004). 1933: Oliver Sacks, English nervous system specialist and essayist. 1934: Michael Graves, American draftsman. 1935: Wim Duisenberg, Dutch financial expert and lawmaker (d. 2005). 1935: Isabel Coca Sarli, Argentine entertainer. 1935: Mercedes Sosa, Argentine artist (d. 2009). 1936: Richard Wilson, Scottish entertainer and chief. 1937: David Hockney, English craftsman of pop workmanship. 1938: Brian Dennehy, American entertainer. 1939: Domingo Siazდ³n, Philippine ambassador. 1940: Marდ­a Cristina Laurenz, Argentine artist and entertainer. 1942: Johnny Laboriel, Mexican artist (f. 2013). 1943: Soledad Miranda, Spanish entertainer (d. 1970). 1945: Dignitary R. Koontz, American author. 1945: Gonzalo Spirits Sდ¡urez, Costa Rican hyperrealist painter (d. 2017). 1946: Bon Scott, Australian artist, of the band AC/DC (d. 1980). 1947: Rubდ©n Basoalto, Argentine drummer (d. 2010). 1947: Donald, Argentine artist. 1947: Haruomi Hosono, Japanese artist, of the Yellow Sorcery Ensemble band. 1947: Mitch Mitchell, American drummer, of the band The Jimi Hendrix Experience (f. 2008). 1947: OJ Simpson, American entertainer and football player. 1948: Gloria Munoz, Spanish entertainer. 1949: Jesse Duplantis, American minister. 1950: Adriano Panatta, Italian tennis player. 1950: Viktor Yanukovych, Ukrainian Top state leader. 1951: Chris Cooper, American entertainer. 1952: John Tesh, American writer. 1955: Lindsey Graham, American legal advisor and government official. 1955: Jimmy Smits, American entertainer. 1956: Tom Hanks, American entertainer. 1957: Marc Almond, English artist of the band Delicate Cell. 1957: Norberto Filippo, Argentine painter. 1957: Engracia Hidalgo, Spanish government official. 1957: Tim Kring, American screenwriter and maker. 1957: Kelly McGillis, American entertainer. 1957: Freddie Medina, Puerto Rican combative techniques expert. 1957: Jim Paxson, American ball player. 1959: Kevin Nash, American expert grappler. 1960: Marc Mero, American warrior and fighter. 1960: Eduardo Montes Bradley, Argentine columnist and essayist. 1961: Raymond Cruz, American entertainer. 1961: Jorge Serდ©, Uruguayan soccer player. 1963: Raდºl Patricio Solanas, Argentine government official (d. 2011). 1964: Courtney Love, artist and American performer. 1964: Gianluca Vialli, Italian footballer. 1965: Plain Bello, American artist, of the band Bacillus anthracis. 1966: Eric Melvin, American guitarist, of the band NOFX. 1966: Manuel Mota, Spanish couturier (f. 2013). 1966: Marco Pennette, American screenwriter and maker. 1966: Chichდ­ Peralta, Dominican percussionist and maker. 1968: Alex Aguinaga, Ecuadorian soccer player. 1968: Paolo Di Canio, Italian footballer. 1968: Eduardo Santamarina, Mexican entertainer. 1970: Masami Tsuda, Japanese sketch artist. 1971: Marc Andreessen, American PC researcher. 1971: Scott Grimes, artist and American entertainer. 1971: Vitali Klichko, Ukrainian fighter. 1972: Major Simon, Chilean maker and artist. 1972: Simon Tong, English artist and maker, of the groups The Verve, Obscure and Gorillaz. 1973: Enrique Murciano, American entertainer of Latin beginning. 1974: Nikola Sarcevic, Swedish bassist and artist, of the band Millencolin. 1975: Shelton Benjamin, American expert grappler. 1975: Isaac Brock, American artist and guitarist, of the band Unobtrusive Mouse. 1975: Gaizka Garitano, Spanish footballer. 1975: Damiდ¡n Szifron, Argentine screenwriter and producer. 1975: Jack White, American artist and guitarist, of the band The White Stripes. 1976: Fred Savage, American entertainer. 1978: Imprint Medlock, German artist. 1979: Rodrigo Dდ­az, Chilean artist. 1980: Udonis Haslem, American ball player. 1981: Jennifer Stone, Czech pornography entertainer. 1982: Boვ¡tjan Cesar, Slovenian footballer. 1982: Alecko Eskandarian, American football player. 1982: Toby Kebbell, English entertainer. 1982: Maggie Mama, Canadian entertainer. 1982: Andrew St. John, American entertainer. 1982: Sakon Yamamoto, Japanese Equation 1 driver. 1983: Miguel Montero, Venezuelan baseball player. 1984: Sachi Kokuryu, Japanese voice entertainer. 1985: Alejandro Guerra, Venezuelan soccer player. 1985: Paweვ‚ Korzeniowski, Clean swimmer. 1985: Ashley Youthful, English footballer. 1986: Sდ©bastien Bassong, Cameroonian footballer. 1986: Severo Meza, Mexican soccer player. 1986: Jesდºs Navarro Rosas, Mexican artist, of the Reik band. 1986: Kiely Williams, American entertainer and artist. 1987: Gert Joeდ¤დ¤r, Estonian cyclist. 1987: Rebecca Sugar, American maker, screenwriter, artist and author. 1988: Raul Rusescu, Romanian footballer. 1990: Fდ¡bio Pereira da Silva, Brazilian soccer player. 1990: Rafael Pereira da Silva, Brazilian soccer player. 1991: Mitchel Musso, American entertainer and artist. 1991: Riley Reid, American pornography entertainer. 1991: Josდ© Manuel Urcera, Argentine motorcycling and hustling driver. 1992: Douglas Corner, English entertainer. 1993: Jake Vargas, Filipino entertainer. 1993: DeAndre Yedlin, American footballer. 1994: Akiane Kramarik, American painter and writer. 1995: Georgie Henley, English entertainer.