#“i only deal with those below 12.” WHAT?!?!

[getonite]

y r all of the hot bitches in anime child kissers? :/ like PLEASE u just ruined a good character 4 no fucking reason

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 8

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The next day, the headlines dominated the news:

"The Barnes Brothers' Hidden Scandal Exposed"

"Shawn Barnes: The Untouchable Elite Dodging Justice"

"Political Candidate’s Family Ties to Corruption Unveiled"

At the campaign headquarters, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The usual hum of activity was replaced by silence, only broken by the sound of phones ringing off the hook.

Steve stood near the table, crumpling a newspaper in his hands, frustration written all over his face. Bucky stood by the window, his posture rigid as he stared out into the distance, lost in thought.

Steve let out a heavy sigh, massaging his temples. "I didn’t expect they’d bring up Shawn at the debate."

Bucky turned slightly, his voice calm but carrying an edge. "You know Brock. He always hits below the belt, always makes it personal."

Steve glanced out at the campaign team, who were scrambling. The room beyond was a flurry of chaos: phones ringing non-stop, staff members anxiously typing responses, pacing as they fielded questions from the press, all trying to extinguish the flames of the scandal. Steve ran a hand through his hair as he watched, feeling the weight of the situation.

"The numbers are tanking," Steve muttered, his face grim. "After this, the public’s furious. Voters won’t back a candidate whose family used connections to dodge the law."

Bucky’s jaw tightened as Steve continued, "People hate it when those with power think they’re above punishment. That’s the real damage here. It’s not just about Shawn—it’s about what it represents."

The trend #CatchShawnBarnes was everywhere, climbing to the top spot on social media. The timing couldn’t have been worse. The firestorm had erupted, fueled by rumors and bots likely hired by Brock and Edgar’s teams, intensifying the outrage.

Bucky broke the silence with a quiet, "I’m sorry."

Steve looked at him, shaking his head. "Don’t be. This isn’t on you, Buck." His tone softened. "Besides, it’s not your fault."

Steve had known the Barnes family long enough to understand the full story. Shawn, the eldest son, always had an ego, fed by the wealth and privilege of his upbringing. With everything handed to him, he acted like the world owed him, seeing himself as untouchable.

In truth, it was Shawn who was supposed to enter politics. But unlike Bucky, he lacked the charisma and leadership qualities. Caroline, their mother, had long since given up hope on her eldest son, who had failed to live up to expectations.

Back then, Bucky had been a quiet presence, almost invisible in his own home. Caroline had never even heard his voice much, even though they lived under the same roof. But everything changed when Bucky entered law school. There, he shone.

He joined clubs, became student president, volunteered, organized demonstrations, and eventually graduated as valedictorian. Every trait of a leader was there, clear for everyone to see—especially Caroline. She shifted her attention to Bucky, molding him into the perfect candidate, ensuring he stayed on the path to success.

Shawn, once the golden child, watched as the spotlight shifted to his younger brother. The attention, the purpose he had once enjoyed, slipped away. He felt lost, purposeless. That’s when the spiral began. The drugs were his escape, his way of coping with the emptiness.

At first, it was subtle. But soon, it became public knowledge—Shawn Barnes was a cocaine addict. In an attempt to save face, Caroline and Julius sent him to rehab. But the real disaster struck when Shawn escaped, driving under the influence. That’s when the accident happened—the night he hit someone with his car.

Steve didn’t know the full details after that. What he did know was that Shawn had paid bail and was sent to another rehab, the entire incident hushed up. The Barnes family had buried the scandal deep, hoping it would never see the light of day.

But as Steve thought to himself, no matter how deep you bury something, eventually the stench of rot seeps through.

"I’ll fix this," Bucky said, his voice low but determined.

Steve raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "How, exactly?"

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The Barnes household felt colder than ever, the tension suffocating the room. Shawn sat in the corner, hunched over, hugging his knees. His fingernails were chewed down to the skin, his pale face etched with panic.

"Shit... shit..." he muttered under his breath, eyes darting around the room like a caged animal.

Across the room, Caroline and Julius were in a quiet panic. Caroline paced, wringing her hands, her face pale with fear. Julius stood by the window, his jaw clenched, staring out as if searching for answers that weren’t there.

You sat on the sofa, watching the unfolding chaos like a distant spectator. It was almost theatrical—the Barnes family, once so composed, unraveling before your eyes.

Just then, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Bucky walking in. His face was a mask of determination, his eyes dark and unreadable.

You rose from the sofa and approached him. Before you could speak, he cut you off with a low, firm voice. “I want you to stay out of sight. Away from the windows.”

You frowned but nodded, sensing the weight of his words. He brushed past you without another glance and made his way toward Shawn.

Shawn looked up at Bucky, his eyes wide and filled with fear. He seemed so small in front of his younger brother, almost shrinking under the weight of Bucky’s presence.

“Get up,” Bucky ordered, his voice hard. Without waiting for a response, he reached down and pulled Shawn to his feet.

Shawn stumbled but didn’t resist. He followed Bucky like a lost child.

“Where are you taking him?” Caroline’s voice trembled as she rushed forward to stop them, but Bucky didn’t break stride.

“What he should’ve done years ago,” Bucky answered coldly, dragging Shawn along.

Caroline hurried after them, her heels clicking against the floor. “Bucky, wait! What do you mean?”

Bucky led them outside, the sound of the door swinging open making Caroline stop in her tracks. She froze as her eyes widened in shock. There, right outside their home, were TV station cameras, police cars, and flashing lights.

Caroline’s heart pounded in her chest. “Bucky,” she hissed, her voice sharp with disbelief. “How could you do this? This is a public execution! You’re putting a guillotine to your own brother!”

Julius stepped forward, his voice tired but stern. “Son, is this really the only way?”

Bucky turned briefly to look at his parents, his expression cold. “We have to set an example.”

Caroline’s face twisted in fear, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Bucky, please... don’t do this.”

Before Bucky could respond, Shawn’s voice rang out, shaky but clear. “Stop!” he shouted.

Caroline flinched, her eyes locking with Shawn’s. His face was pale, but his eyes, for the first time in years, looked determined.

“Mother,” Shawn said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been free from jail, but there’s been a shackle on me ever since. Guilt has haunted me every day. I’ve been hiding, running, pretending it didn’t happen. But it did. And I need to face it.”

Bucky gave his brother a nod, and Shawn took a shaky breath before turning to him. “Let’s go.”

They walked toward the press together. Cameras flashed as Bucky led Shawn to the bouquet of microphones, the press shouting questions over one another. Shawn took a deep breath and stepped forward. His hands trembled as he gripped the podium.

“I made a mistake,” Shawn began, his voice cracking. “I was reckless... I hurt someone. I ran from it, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry—for what I did and for hiding it for so long.”

As the words left his mouth, you could see the weight of guilt lifting from his shoulders, though his face remained heavy with regret. He glanced at Bucky, who stood beside him, stoic but supportive. Bucky knew how much the accident haunted Shawn, how it had eaten him alive from the inside out.

After Shawn finished his confession, he stepped away from the podium and voluntarily walked toward the waiting police car. The press erupted with questions aimed at Bucky. One reporter shouted above the rest, “Why did you expose your own brother like this?”

Bucky met the reporter’s gaze, his voice steady and firm. “Because no one is above the law.”

As Shawn was driven away, Caroline stood frozen in the doorway, her face a mask of fury. She didn’t want to look at Bucky, not now, not after what he’d done. Julius said nothing, too exhausted to protest or intervene.

Once the commotion had died down, you walked up to Bucky, your voice low. “You don’t feel guilty? Sacrificing your own brother like that?”

Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "I'll do anything to get that position. It’s all for you too, babe." His voice was low, dangerous, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, the intensity in his gaze as his lips hovered just inches from your skin. The closeness sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something intoxicating in the way he said it, like a promise that left you both thrilled and unnerved.

You met his gaze, your pulse racing. "You’re crazy," you muttered, though the words felt weaker than you intended.

Without another word, you pulled away, leaving him standing there, the charge of the moment lingering long after you had gone.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next day you returned to the campaign headquarters, where the atmosphere was thick with tension.

So much had happened in the past 48 hours. The campaign team buzzed with a frenetic energy, fueled by the fallout from Shawn’s confession. Despite the chaos, there was a flicker of optimism; his admission had managed to regain some trust from the voters.

Yet, you could sense the undercurrent of anxiety. Everyone was on edge, aware that the storm wasn't over. Phone calls rang out, strategy meetings were called, and you could see the weight of the situation pressing down on each team member's shoulders. You felt a mix of relief and dread—relief that there was hope, but dread about what might come next.

Your brother, Tim was still focused and serious as he poured over the reports, his usual calm replaced by a quiet intensity. You watched him for a moment, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest. But you couldn’t linger on that.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

The streets were busy, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the chaos of everything that had happened. The scandal, the press, Bucky. It felt like everything was unraveling. The nearest café was only a block away, and you pushed through the door, grateful for the brief respite.

That’s when you saw him.

Ian.

He was leaning casually against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand, but the moment he spotted you, something changed in his expression. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it was far from friendly.

You froze in place, staring at him for a beat too long. “Are you spying on us?” you asked, your voice low but sharp as you crossed your arms, trying to keep your emotions in check.

Ian's smirk widened as if he’d been waiting for this. “Isn’t it obvious?” he replied, his tone almost teasing but dripping with bitterness. “I work with the other side now.”

You felt a surge of frustration, but more than that, something inside you twisted—an old wound reopening. You took a step closer, your eyes narrowing.

“We’ve worked together, Ian. We’ve seen injustice and unfairness in the world. But this…” You hesitated, searching his face for any trace of the person you used to know. “This feels personal.”

Ian’s smile faded, replaced by something darker. He snapped his fingers, and in an instant, everyone in the café left, leaving just the two of you inside.

You were taken aback, a chill running down your spine as the door swung shut behind the last customer.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You got that right,” he said, his eyes burning with something deep and unresolved.

“The person who died in that car accident? The one your dear Bucky’s brother killed? That was my twin brother.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the world around you narrowing to just Ian and the heavy weight of his words. “Your twin…” you whispered, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut.

Ian’s expression hardened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Yeah. My twin brother. Both of us were put up for adoption. I didn’t even know he existed until I was fourteen years old.”

He turned his gaze away from you, the memories clearly painful, but he didn’t stop. “I was adopted by a British couple. Grew up thinking I was an only child. It wasn’t until I did some digging into my adoption records that I found out about him. My twin.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you listened, unable to speak. Ian’s voice was tight with emotion, but he pressed on.

“I was so damn happy when I found him. We bonded right away, as if we’d never been apart.” His voice softened, but the pain was unmistakable.

“We stayed in touch. Became close. We had so much to catch up on, and it was like I finally had someone who understood me in a way no one else could.”

He shook his head, his jaw clenching. “But then…” He looked back at you, his eyes blazing with anger. “Then Shawn Barnes took him away from me. He killed him. And your husband family covered it all up.”

You flinched at the venom in his words, your heart pounding in your chest. You had no idea. You hadn’t known the full story, and now it was staring you in the face.

Ian stepped even closer, invading your space, his eyes searching yours for something—maybe regret, maybe guilt. “They buried it. Buried him. And now you’re standing by their side, supporting the man whose family let my brother’s killer walk free.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You felt frozen, torn between your loyalty to Bucky and the weight of Ian’s grief and anger.

You knew about the cover-up involving Shawn, but who were you to uncover the truth, especially knowing it would be futile to fight against Caroline?

Now, guilt washed over you for having ignored this. It turned out the victim was closer than you had ever realized.

Ian’s voice softened, but the intensity didn’t fade. “Tell me,” he said, his gaze piercing into you. “After all of this… after everything you know… do you still trust him?”

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[petermorwood]

Recently I got roped (ha) into an Age of Sail roleplay, and decided I wanted to play the ship's cook. I then realized I don't know too much about provisioning a ship in the Age of Sail! I figured you'd be the sort of fellow to know where I could find resources on that kind of information though?

Well, for a start I recommend sending a similar Ask to @ltwilliammowett (Beat To Quarters) who knows far more about The Age of Sail / Wooden Ships & Iron Men subject than I do.

*****

In the meanwhile here are a couple of books, both of which you may well be able to get through your library, or buy pretty cheaply for your research library. They're also an entertaining read.

The first was recommended to me by Terry Pratchett - "'If you haven't read it, you should!" - when we were at a con together and he was researching "Nation".

It's "Feeding Nelson's Navy" by Janet MacDonald, available here as an ebook and from Amazon as a Kindle Unlimited free read.

The second is "Lobscouse & Spotted Dog" by Anne Chotzinoff Grossman & Lisa Grossman Thomas.

Funny how both books use the same period image - "Shipmates Carousing Below Decks" by William Pyne - as cover art.

"Lobscouse" deals with the same period as "Navy", while also being the author-approved official cookbook of Patrick O'Brian's "Aubrey / Maturin" novels.

Here's a Reddit about making dishes from it, and here's a blog page about making Spotted Dog and why Suet Makes a Difference.

I've already posted about the role correct cooking fats play in making traditional dishes "taste right", and since Atora brand makes both carnivore and vegetarian suets, it's worth tracking down.

Here's a blog page which summarises the Age of Sail diet - think of it as an exam crib to tide you over until you get the books and learn more.

*****

Here's Max Miller of "Tasting History" making lobscouse:

And here are Dylan Hollis and Max making that ubiquitous on-board delicacy and culinary ingredient, ship's biscuit (hardtack / hard-tack / hard tack).

Something very similar was still issued as a ration item at the beginning of the 20th century and into World War One. J.R.R. Tolkien would certainly have encountered Biscuits, Ration, H&P, Army No.4...

...and may well have used them as a basis for the waybread "cram" as mentioned in "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". This description has the ring (hah!) of familiarity about it.

"If you want to know what cram is, I can only say that I don’t know the recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps good indefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining, and is certainly not entertaining, being in fact very uninteresting except as a chewing exercise." "The Hobbit" ch.13, "Not at Home"

No.4 biscuits were so hard that soldiers could use them as substitutes for wood...

...and Nelson's sailors probably did the same with theirs.

*****

Terry Pratchett took this wooden quality and - with the dial turned up to eleven - transformed it into the rocky quality of Dwarf bread.

Here's a health nut's real-life version of a healthy nut loaf...

...while this is an example of sedimentary conglomerate rock.

With a bit of judicious cropping, the captions could be swapped and a casual glance would never notice.

Of course this post wouldn't be complete without a certain GIF.

So...

*****

To finish, a few links to more video.

One (12 years ago).

Two - 1 year, including some of the ship's biscuit made in that first one (!)

Three - also 1 year, featuring other dishes - pease pudding ("dog's body"), lobscouse and plum duff. Oh, and ship's biscuit ...

Those are from Townsends, another great source for 18th century food and cooking.

This last example is by Dan Snow, in an extract from a longer History Hits documentary, and is a short general overview of period Navy rations - and of course, ship's biscuit... :->

HTH !

[nostalgiclittlespace]

Wishlist Ideas for Closeted Regressors

So, it’s a little early to be posting holiday stuff, but I wanted to get this out there so since I know a lot of people start their holiday shopping around this time. So, If you’re looking for agere gear as a closeted regressor, or you just want something that’s subtle, here are 12 ideas-with pics. Note: pics are not mine, they are screenshotted from Amazon. prices are in USD, as Im American. Happy regressing and happy holidays!

1.Kawaii water bottles, specifically in the style below. The straw on most of these is a lot like a sippy or bottle, so if you can’t have/don’t want one of those, then these are a great alternative! Just look up ‘kawaii water bottle’ on Amazon and a whole bunch will show up. Most are between $15-25 USD

2. Funko Pops. I actually use mine as action figures and play with them (just be gentle with them if you do this!) so they can be great agere toys and decor! You can find just about any character and any fandom too. The prices very greatly, depending on what character and where you buy from. Black Friday deals on Amazon and Five Below are great ways to find them for only a few dollars.

3. Fidget toys; they can make great Agere activities! Because they are designed to stimulate your senses, many function similarly to baby toys. Note: when buying in bulk packages, the quality isn’t great. So consider whether you want to invest in better quality or quantity. Most bulk fidget packs are about $25 USD on Amazon. Dollar stores often have similar products as well, though once again the quality is unknown.

4. Fleece throw blankets. They are super cute, soft, and cuddly! Not only can they keep you warm, but I like to use mine as a playmat. Once again, price can very greatly; typically anywhere from $10-30 USD

5. Coloring books. I think this one is pretty self explanatory, as lots of regressors love coloring. If you’re worried about rousing suspicion, then just ask for an adult coloring book; these often have more intricate patterns, but if you ask for a fandom themed one, it’ll still have some awesome characters to color! Typically around $5-10

6. Silicone night light. These are available in so many colors, animals, and foods—and they are appropriate for any age, thanks to their kawaii esc appearance; they usually cost about $15.

7. Snack boxes. If your dietary needs allow for it, then these can provide some really cool little space snacks. They’re all pre packaged and come with a wide variety of things, ranging from crackers to cookies. And if you want something unique, you can try snack boxes that feature food from other countries. Prices will vary greatly, mostly dependent on the size

8. Lava lamps. These are just cute and make for a neat visual stim. Plenty of colors to choose from too! If you wanted, it could be used as a sort of substitute as a baby mobile since it’s very colorful and relaxing to watch. These can go for anywhere between $20-40

9. Microwaveable plushies. Super comforting, and for any Littles with cramps or chronic pain, they can be disguised as heating pads. Many of these also come with a scent, typically lavender, though you can find them without too. Cost around $20-40, depending on brand.

10. Scrapbooking materials. Kind of a random one, but they can be used to decorate a journal, you can make a physical photo album like many of us had in our childhoods, etc. Just a fun craft project you can consider! Typically, scrapbooking kits that include some paper, washi tape, and stickers can be around $10-15

11. Onesie pajamas. Lots of options, and are great if you live somewhere cold! Usually $25-40. These can be animal shaped, character themed, or more subtle like a plaid pattern. Very comfy and make for great little space clothes.

12. Glow in the dark stars. They are cute, fun, and aesthetically pleasing. You can get them in a who,e bunch of colors too! Typically $5

[currentfandomkick]

Prompt:

Desiree overhears bruce wish for a do-over with his robins.

Said robins end up aged down and only with those memories of when they first were acknowledged as Robin by Bruce. Anything after? Gone.

Now Dick is 8 ready to destroy these people stealing his mom’s nickname for him. Yes he is deranged and feral. Yes he is assaulting Damian the most, as the kid also attacks him. He’s also certain Damian is mew to the states too and annoyed he cant understand the kid.

Jason is 12 and dealing with a Lot of homeless kid truama and whiplash of rich place and who are these other kids and why is the tiniest one trying to kill the second tiniest? Stop that! (Jason, the most responsible somehow) Damian listens to him best without the use of orders. (Only way to get Damian to listen otherwise) and is working on teaching Damian about how the states and Gotham work. Jason is the Great Culture Teacher, and hoarding food stashes and go bags everywhere. Just in case. Yes he has some for everyone and is only a little upset his peer Tim vanished before he could give him his.

Tim is 12 too, realized Batman had Jason Right There and fucked off back home to see what happened timeline wise. He decided to visit his apparent step-mom, Dana, and gets to meet his apparent(?) boyfriends (deal’s choice, just have there be two for Tim’s confusion as ‘i pulled not one but two hot boys? How?) reasons. Tim is Learning what he did in the last 6 years and is questioning how his older self stopped with a semi-regular sleep schedule and.. had no spleen? Dana, can we get that checked for me that mine’s still there and if i keep it? Yay. Oh, this should last a few months? Okay! He can work from home online and have Lucius handle the meetings—why was he made a teen CEO again?

Stephanie? Is the oldest at 15, and is baffled by the whole situation. She goes to see Oracle and handles patrols under Babs’ eye with a confused Cass. Yes Stephanie is mad at Tim and believes he was cheating on her at this time, but knows the Tim she saw was smaller. And this is in the future from her POV. She’s still mad. Also the least likely to cause problems on patrol atm as she’s already trained and threatened to break out Spoiler if he tries to stop her. Her favorites and Damian (he gets killing should be an option, but needs to work on his selection process) and Jason, who Gets being a poor kid. Dick stops attacking her on sight but is a savage and insults her form. He ranks below Tim due to proximity, and the fact this is a Tim before they dated.

Damian? Back maybe 2 years, to the mindset of ‘if i dont kill my predecessor, i am unworthy of my role by Father’s side.’ Problem: he and Dick are fighting (both initiate) and Alfred and Jason (when did his zombie guard get so small?) are the only ones able to separate them successfully. He is not allowed on Patrol, but Brown is as she’s able to run solo otherwise and Father has recruited her using Robin. Father has explicitly forbade attacking her in the manor, cave or otherwise on property, and forbid killing. Brown is the only one besides him questioning this, even if it’s mostly over comms… and he is absolutely working on learning magic to undo this spell and return to his rightful place damnit!

Bruce has Many Regrets about that wish. And hates magic

Meanwhile Danny is trying to work out which wishes of Desiree’s are safe to undo, as apparently her last spree included taking out Joker, who was well overdue for that, and helping a lot of families reunite. He’s not undoing that. But also she did help gorilla grodd take over a city. He. He’s gonna need help, isn’t he?

[mornington-the-crescent]

The Poll

So, for those who don’t know, I put up a poll of, “Who was the worst American President?” The list was FDR, Woodrow Wilson, Lyndon Johnson, Herbert Hoover, and Richard Nixon. It got up to about 13k notes before I deleted it, because I was tired of the notes clogging up my feed. And the results were... telling.

About 75-80% of all the notes were, “Where is Reagan/Andrew Jackson?!?” Many of the rest, though, can be seen below:

What this tells me is that more than ten thousand people didn’t have an education; they had an indoctrination.

You want to hear it? All right, buckle up, because it’s time for a stroll down memory lane.

Why was FDR a bad president?

It is almost hard to know where to begin with this. Let’s start with one of the most basic ones: The belief that FDR got us out of the Depression.

Point of fact, No the fuck he did not.

Making American Depressed

If you ask almost any historian or economist, they will tell you flat-out that not only did the New Deal not end the Great Depression, but that it made it significantly longer and worse than it would have been otherwise. Hoover bears some of the blame for this, but the pseudo-socialist dogshit that was the New Deal bears the brunt of the blame for this one.

The stock market crashed in late October, 1929. Two months later, unemployment peaked at 9%. Over the next several months, unemployment started to fall, down to 5-6% by the spring of the next year. Half a year after the crash, unemployment had not hit double digits. Hoover’s intervention, though, did cause unemployment to reach double digits. Roosevelt was elected in 1932 and took office in 1933, and unemployment did not fall out of double digits for the remainder of the 1930′s. The thing that actually pulled the US out of the Depression was the second World War; turns out that removing roughly 12 million people from the labor force to go and fight does wonders for unemployment numbers. FDR even said that Doctor New Deal was replaced by Doctor Win-The-War.

This was hardly the first economic downturn in American history. For the first 150 years of this country, there were downturns all the time. And what the government did was nothing, and the economy recovered on its own. But Roosevelt represents the first massive large-scale intervention in the economy. And government intervention in the economy slows economic recovery; when you have no idea what the government is going to do tomorrow in regards to the economy, it’s hard to make smart financial decisions, so you just don’t bother. After all, why do anything if tomorrow, the rules of the game are going to change?

Separation of Powers Who?

FDR issued more executive orders than any other President of the 20th century. He may, in fact, have issued more than all the other Presidents of the 20th century combined. Rather than letting Congress, the legislative branch of government, you know, legislate, he preferred to try to do everything himself.

The President is supposed to be the weakest branch of the government, but Roosevelt did everything he could to try to establish its supremacy over the other branches. When Congress didn’t give him his way, he used executive orders. When the Supreme Court challenged some of his acts as unconstitutional, his response was to threaten to have them replaced, or to simply pack the court with judges more sympathetic to his aims. This is a man who was openly contemptuous of the concept of the rule of law.

Here’s a fun entry from the notes:

Hey, you want to talk about fascists? Actual, honest-to-goodness Fascists, not just the modern definition (i.e. anyone a nanometer to the right of Noam Chomsky)? Let’s talk about the originals. Let’s talk about the inventor of Fascism, Benito motherfucking Mussolini. And how FDR openly admired him, and was “deeply impressed by what he has accomplished”, calling Fascism the “cleanest, most efficiently operating piece of social machinery [he had] ever seen”, and that it made him “envious”. And Mussolini, for his part, said of Roosevelt that, “Reminiscent of Fascism is the principle that the state no longer leaves the economy to its own devices … Without question, the mood accompanying this sea change resembles that of Fascism.”

When the guy who fucking invented Fascism is saying that he thinks that you are also doing Fascism, then maybe you’re not a good person.

Concentration- I Mean, Internment Camps

And just like his buddies on the other side of the Atlantic, right when World War 2 kicked off, Roosevelt thought it would be a good idea to take “undesirables” and throw them into prison camps. Roughly 20 thousand Italian- and German-Americans, American citizens, were thrown into camps, simply for the crime of having ancestors from countries we were at war with. And then, of course, there’s the 120 thousand Japanese-Americans who were likewise rounded up and put into prison camps, two thirds of whom were natural-born American citizens.

Almost 150 thousand American citizens, thrown into literal concentration camps, without the bother and expense of due process, stripped of their constitutional rights simply on the basis of race.

As for the concentration camps set up in Europe by the Nazis, however? Despite being told of their existence by people who had escaped, as well as journalists and lawyers from Germany, once American planes gained the ability to attack those camps, to shut them down? FDR refused to grant them permission to do so.

Commander in Thief

Executive Order 6102 outlawed the private ownership of gold, allowing the government to confiscate all of it. Once that was accomplished, the Gold Reserve Act allowed him to change the value of gold, debasing America’s currency (which was on a gold standard at the time), which permitted him to steal literally billions of dollars from American citizens, without any compensation.

World War, Too

There is evidence to suggest that Roosevelt knew about the imminent attack on America by Japan in December of 1941. He discussed with several high-ranking people in the War Department, and in his own cabinet, how to get Japan to fire the first shot in the war, so that he could get America involved. It would make sense: His oil embargo was designed to provoke a Japanese response, so as to draw America into the war. And once America was in the war, ordered the Philippines to be abandoned, outright lying that there was an army waiting to retake it once it had been conquered by Japan.

And as the war dragged on, he got quite cozy with Uncle Joe, Stalin himself. He helped to repatriate two million people to Russia, who very much did not want to go back, many of them ending up either in the gulags, or simply killed outright. And his constant concessions to Stalin helped the Soviet Union hold on to eastern Europe, setting the stage for the Cold War. Even when he was informed of Soviet spies within the American government, and provided evidence of their disloyalty and subversion, he simply let them keep at it.

Racism, Racism, and more Racism

Remember how you cheered when lynching was made a federal crime a few months ago, and asked why it hadn’t been done before now? Well, the main reason was good ol’ FDR himself. A bill was proposed in the Congress which would have made lynching a federal crime, and Roosevelt refused to pass it.

Or what about during the Olympic games in Berlin, when black athletes from America took home multiple gold medals? Roosevelt invited the white athletes to the White House, but not a single black one. Jesse Owens, who won four gold medals, said, “Hitler didn’t snub me --- it was [Roosevelt] who snubbed me. The president didn’t even send me a telegram.”

And then there was his nomination of a KKK member to the Supreme Court; Hugo Black, who had zero judicial experience, was nominated simply because he supported the New Deal.

He also was of the opinion that America was, and ought to remain, a white and Protestant country, and that too many Jews was inherently a bad thing, because of how distasteful he found them. He boasted that there was no Jewish blood in his veins, as a mark of pride. He even went so far as to turn away ships of Jewish refugees, fleeing Nazi tyranny in Europe.

In conclusion

FDR was a massive piece of shit. He massively overstepped his constitutionally-appointed bounds at every available opportunity, massively expanding the power of the Presidency at the expense of all other parts of government, and at the expense of individual liberty. He was openly racist and anti-Semitic. His economic policies brought ruin upon the American economy. He openly praised fascism right up until the moment that it was no longer politically expedient to do so, and switched to deferring to authoritarian communism instead. Almost everything that you hate about the modern United States can be traced directly back to this one man.

The fact that he is remembered as not just a good President, but one of the best Presidents, shows how utterly broken American education is.

[tom-holland-stuff]

Displeasing Encounters & Passionate Debates // Chapter 1

My Masterlist

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 + mood-board // Chapter 3 //

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

Summery: After returning form district 12 Coriolanus snow has had everything handed to him on a silver platter. Wealth, status, power, he has got it all. What happens when he discovers that Dr Gaul, his mentor, has taken on a new assistant.

Warning: SFW - for now. (let me know if i forgot any)

A/N: Hey Hey, so this is my first time writing for Coryo. I Have heaps of ideas for where this could go and also ideas for other fics but i'm 1000% open to any suggestions, ideas or even just a chat. DM me or drop in my ask box. Chapter 2 is already in the works hehe

Word Count: 1.7K

The citadel is a cold place. Most may find it unwelcoming, but Coriolanus considers it the opposite; he feels as if he belongs there, like a snowflake in a snowstorm. The white walls seamlessly connect to the marble floor, creating a stark, pristine atmosphere.

Coryo's expensive boots click against the sleek marble floor as he walks through the empty halls. His posture exudes confidence, his chin held high, and his shoulders squared. To those below him, he appears to be looking down with disdain—a smirk playing at his lips.

He is here on business, he must maintain a professional appearance, though he always carries an air of superiority. Today, he's meeting with his mentor, Dr. Gaul. 

After returning to the capital from his stint as a peacekeeper in District Twelve, Coriolanus has thrown himself into university life. Under the tutelage of the Plinths, he's risen in the elitist circles of the capital, becoming somewhat of a hotshot. On a more sour note, along with his new found wealth and status has come the form of a rift between himself and his dear cousin Tigirs, which became very evident this morning in the nature of a disagreement regarding his ever growing likeness to his father. This argument really set a displeasing tone for Coriolanus's day to follow. However, he has far too much to deal with nowadays, and can’t afford to let these spats occupy his thoughts.

Moving on, in addition to his growing popularity, he has secured the likes of the infamous (and slightly psychotic) Dr Gaul. 

After Coryo’s return from 12 the unhinged professor took him under her wing as his mentor and has not only supplied him with an incredible internship to become an gamemaker, but also the promise of becoming one of the greatest minds Panem has seen 

(maybe even a potential political figure one day…)

Perks of having Gaul as a mentor allow Coriolanus to secure one on one meetings or ‘tutoring sessions’ as she likes to call them. Which is where he finds himself on his way to now. 

Navigating the halls with ease, he makes his way to the wing of the building housing Dr. Gaul's lab. Typically, their meetings occur in her office, either at the university or in the citadel. However, due to the last-minute nature of this meeting regarding an assignment, Coryo finds himself summoned to the citadel.

As Coriolanus approaches the door to the lab, he hears someone clear their throat. Turning to his right, a dark wooden table occupies that space, its glossy top covered in neatly stacked folders and paper. He notes to himself how odd it is that he has never noticed this ‘receptionist desks of sorts’ before. 

Coryo is a selfish person, he knows that. He never really worries about anyone other than himself, or more so tries not to, maybe that’s why he has never noticed this space before, or noticed her. 

Seated at the table is a girl who looks to be around his age. She's clad in a fitted gray suit vest with a white button up shirt underneath. A red tie fits loosely around her neck, the deep blood color stands out against the dull accents of her outfit. 

She sits elegantly in her chair, her shoulders straight and poised, her hands clasped softly in front of her. He would have maybe described her as attractive if it wasn’t for the clear expression of displeasure displayed across her face.

Observing her, Coryo determines her demeanor screams entitled and... well, he refrains from using other such derogatory terms, but the sentiment remains. 

His nose wrinkles in disgust at her apparent lack of recognition, but before he can bring himself to think of more unpleasant descriptions of the lady in front of him, she speaks. 

"Name?" she prompts plainly, sitting up a bit straighter (if that was even possible), locking eyes with him.

Her gaze is sharp, her eyes feline like, piercing into his crystal blue ones. 

"Pardon?" He responds incredulously, matching her rigidness.

He takes a step closer to the desk. His strong frame towers over her, casting a shadow on the desk. His being exudes authority and importance, but the girl does not falter. 

Her eyes never leaving his, she states again.

“Name” her tone is almost challenging but her expression remains firm.

Coryo folds his arms across his chest. His embryos scrunch together slightly in annoyance because, who doesn't know who Coriolanus Snow is!

His thoughts are once again interrupted by the girl at the desk.

“Do you have a name?” she states more so than asks. Tilting her head ever so slightly to the side, only then does her gaze leave his as she slowly looks him up and down, sizing him up

Before she has another opportunity to repeat herself, he gives her an answer.

 "Snow," he states curtly. His response prompting her to meet his gaze once more.

“Coriolanus Snow” He reaffirms in an attempt to prevent her from having to ask him anything further, but unfortunately his effort is ill as she presses further.

“Are you sure?” the corners of her mouth pull into a small smirk as she questions him or challenges him, he is unsure. However, he is certain about his displeasure with this conversation. 

He uncrosses his arms and places them on the edge of the table. His face morphing into a scowl. “I have a meeting with Dr Gaul…” he states bluntly.

 “...so if you don’t mind, I shall see to that now, and you can resume with what I'm sure is a very… important task that you do.” He states, sarcasm dripping from his words. 

Without waiting to see the offended expression that was no doubt about to take over the girl’s face, he turns back towards the entrance to the lab taking heavily determined steps towards his desired destination. His smirk wider to himself, triumphant as having now ended that distasteful interaction that has consequently wound him up.

“Interesting Dr. Gaul wishes to spend her time with someone so daft they can’t even remember their own name”.  

He whips around fast on his heel, his smirk immediately replaced by a furious scowl. Coryo's eyes narrow, his gaze burning in her direction. 

She is standing now, almost mimicking his previous position, arms placed strongly on either side of the desk and her face adorned with a smirk that slowly morphs into a wicked smile, obviously satisfied with his visible reaction.

His whole body is tense, his chest is heaving in anger… no, 

Rage.

Who does this bitch think she is? 

He is usually one to have a lot more control over himself and would never allow his emotions to cause him to react so out of pocket like this, well at least not in this environment. But after having to deal with one nuisance after the other, all restraint has gone out the window. 

As Coriolanus prepares to give the girl a piece of his mind and unleash his frustration, he is  interrupted… again.

This time by the creaking sound of two heavy doors behind him, followed by the distinct click of heeled shoes. He halts in his tracks, watching the girl at the desk almost instantly return her seat at the desk, with her hands placed neatly in her lap. Her once devilish expression now replaced by the sweetest of smiles accompanied innocent, doe-like eyes that stare in the direction behind him. 

He looks over his shoulder to find Dr. Gaul exiting the lab, catching them in this tense interaction. 

No. 

Catching HIM. 

His previous ‘opponent’ now looks as if she would never even hurt a fly let alone be involved in an uncivil argument of sorts, and well… let’s just say it's definitely not a good look for him.

He quickly straightens himself and turns to face his mentor, while silently acknowledging himself how the sudden change in the girl's demeanor was slightly impressive.

His posture exudes professionalism, contrasting the state he was just found in.

Dr. Gaul's voice fills the silence as she addresses Coriolanus.

“Ah Mr. Snow, it seems you have already had the pleasure of meeting y/n, my newest addition” she says teasingly. 

He puts on a slight smile as an acknowledgement to her words, but Coryo would have called it anything but a pleasure.

“Both young great minds.” she says outwardly, directed neither of them in particular. Almost as if she was simply verbalising a thought.

Dr Gaul then steps slightly to the side, signalling for Coriolanus to follow her into the lab. 

As he begins to walk, Dr. Gaul holds the door and continues to talk, this time addressing him but speaking loud enough for y/n to hear.  

“Don’t be giving our sweet y/n any grief, hmm?” She teases. 

Sweet? 

Coriolanus finds the use of the word odd, not only because he completely disagrees with it as an appropriate description for the girl… y/n, but also because it's not a word that seems natural being used by his unhinged professor.

Coriolanus looks over his shoulder catching a glimpse of y/n as Dr Gaul begins to close the doors behind them. Gaul takes his shift in attention as an opportunity to add to her previous statement.

“We Wouldn’t want her to get caught up in one of your… Passionate debates” she smirks knowingly.

Coriolanus feels his cheeks flush, caught off guard by such an insinuating statement. Disgusted and embarrassed by his own involuntary reaction, he turns his head back in the direction he is walking, but not before catching a glimpse of y/n. She was still seated at her desk, with poised and perfect posture, but her face held a new expression. An expression Coriolanus did not have the previous pleasure of witnessing. 

Her eyes had gone wide and her mouth was slightly held open in surprise. Her face had turned a soft shade of pink, the flush of her cheeks matching his own.

That's all he is able to note before Dr Gaul shuts the doors completely behind them. She walks swiftly in front of Coriolanus and he follows quickly in toe.

“Something tells me you two will get along quite well” She chuckles to herself but Coriolanus couldn’t have disagreed more.

A/N: Sooooooo what did we think?? i tried my best so if there were spelling or grammar mistakes i'm so sorry!! i checked it so much it pained me hahahah. Also i don't give permission for my work to be posted without credit or whatever.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

what is (chronic) autistic catatonia?

// why specify “autistic” catatonia? //

catatonia most common associate with schizophrenia, but increase realize also happen in things like bipolar & depression.

if look at some of typical catatonia diagnostic criteria in DSM 5 (but in easier words): catalepsy & waxy flexibility, grimacing (hold same stiff facial movement), mutism, echolalia, echopraxia (copy movement), exaggerated mannerisms, stereotypies/repetitive movements, etc… wait! some of these things happen in autism!!! (like 7 out of total 12 can be seen in autism)

this is why important to know how recognize catatonia in autism. because overlap.

catatonia in schizophrenia most common start fast and get worse fast. but chronic autistic catatonia typically slow onset and slow but visible deterioration. (always have exceptions though)

not know a lot about schizophrenia catatonia, so this post largely focus on autism. everything below, when say “catatonia” or “autistic catatonia,” mean chronic autistic catatonia with deterioration.

// before move on— //

sometimes professionals do connect autistic shutdown with/as catatonia or catatonia episode or catatonia-like episode to draw connection. this not talk about that. this about chronic ones with deterioration. personally for community identity purpose i don’t enjoy (already have term for shutdown). but personal opinion aside, again this about the temporary vs long term all the time. if experience temporary shutdown, remember to leave space for and not same as those of us deal with chronic autistic catatonia.

important to distinguish from autism because autism and catatonia share many symptoms. (for example, physical stimming or “stereotypies” is autism diagnostic criteria AND catatonia criteria). autistic catatonia should only be suspected IF have new symptoms OR change in type & pattern of old symptoms. cannot. stress. this. enough. again. it not about IF you have these symptoms it’s about WHEN and HOW and CHANGE. it's about NEW.

and. please do not diagnose self based on one tumblr post. yes even if i do extensive research and cite sources and have lived experience. many many many disorders look similar. am all here for educated self diagnosis because medical system inequitable BUT am also sick of every time write this a bunch people comment “oh never heard this this is so me.” one tumblr post not educated self dx. it not a cool new thing to add to carrd to hoard as much medical label as can, it miserable it makes my life hell it not a joke it not cool. not every autistic have chronic catatonia, not every shutdown means chronic catatonia, even if you autistic and see these signs, may be separate unrelated disorder altogether, like Infectious, metabolic, endocrinological, neurological, autoimmune diseases, all can see catatonia (Dhossche et al, 2006). some of you all will read this and truly think this is answer been looking for so long—great! still, please do more research.

// chronic autistic catatonia with deterioration and breakdown //

the key defining symptoms of chronic autistic catatonia is gradual lose functioning and difficulty with voluntary movements (shah, 2019, p21). “gradual lose functioning” will come with regression in independence & ADLs & quality of life. it usually gradual, chronic, and complex. but can vary in severity. some need prompts on some day & some situations, while others need prompt and even physical assistance for almost everything.

how common? have seen statistic estimate from 10% - 20% of autistic people adolescents & above experience chronic autistic catatonia.

typical onset for autistic catatonia is adolescence. some study samples is 15-19, some as early as 13. some professionals think this autistic catatonia may be a reason for many autism late regression (Ghaziuddin, 2021).

can happen regardless of gender, IQ (yes shitty), “autism severity/functioning labels” (is what most studies use, so i keep, but yes have issues, probably also mean happens regardless of autism level 1/2/3 and support needs before catatonia, but need more research to confirm since these thing don’t equal eachother).

// primary symptoms //

from book "Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach" by dr amitta shah, recommend read at least first two chapter and appendix.

1. Increased slowness

often first sign but not always

periods of inactivity or immobility between actions which appears as slowness, e.g walking, responses (verbal & body), self care, mealtime, etc

2. Movement difficulties (freezing and getting stuck)

difficult initiate/start movement

freeze or become "stuck" in middle of activity for few seconds to minutes

hesitate & "to and fro" movements

difficulty cross threshold/transitions like door way

difficulty stop action/movement once started

affect speech content, fluency, & volume

eat & drink difficult (like movement for fork & knife, chewing and swallowing, etc)

spend long time in one place

(new) ritualistic behaviors

3. Movement abnormalities

repetitive movements like in tourette's & parkinsons

e.g. sudden jerky movement, tremors, involuntary movements, blinking, grimacing, unusual & uncomfortable postures, locked in postures, increase in repetitive movements, etc.

4. Prompt dependence

may not be able to do some or any movement/activity, unable to move from one place to another, unable to change posture, etc without external/outside prompt

5. Passivity and apparent lack of motivation

look unmotivated & unwilling to do stuff, include activities used to like, probably because can't do voluntary action or have trouble with request and make decison.

6. Posturing

classic catatonia symptom of being stuck in one posture, sometimes for hours

7. Periods of shutdown

8. Catatonic excitement

episodic & short lasting

e.g. uncontrollable & frenzied movement and vocalizations, sensory/perceptual distortions, aggressive & destructive outbursts that not like self

9. Fluctuations of difficulty

e.g. some days better can do more need less prompt! other days worse. sometimes emergency can act as almost like a prompt! but fluctuate doesn't mean difficulty voluntary

// secondary difficulties //

Social withdrawal and communication problems

Decline in self-help skills

Incontinence

‘Challenging’ behavior

Mobility and muscle wastage

Physical problems

Breakdown

// autism breakdown //

can be in addition to autistic catatonia. can look like autism is getting worse, even though autism by itself not progressive disorder!

i also call this autism late regression. separate between autistic catatonia & this not very clear, not enough research.

1. exacerbation of autism

1a. increased social withdrawl, isolation, avoidance of social situations

1b. increased communication difficulties

1c. increased repetitive and ritualistic behavior

2. decrease in tolerance & resilience

easily disturbed, irratable, angry

3. increase in "challenging" behaviors

e.g. self injurious behaviors

4. decrease in concentration & focus

5. decrease in engagement & enjoyment

// treatment //

for catatonia (autistic or not), typical treatment is lorazepam and/or ECT.

specific to catatonia in autism, Dhossche et al. (2006) separate it to mild/moderate/severe and give recommend treatment according to that (do not come here and argue about severity labels, because fuck! mild depression and severe depression of course have different suggested treatments and severity important to know. Remember we talk about autistic catatonia).

note: this is one paper! not the only way! yes have problems like most psych/autism papers, just here to give example (of range of symptoms and treatment route!). NOT MEDICAL ADVICE. (not even endorsement)

mild: slight impairment in social & job things without limit efficiency as a whole (essentially still able to function for most part but difficult).

moderate: more obvious struggles in all areas, but ambulatory and don't need acute medical services for feeding or vitals

severe: typically medical emergency, acute stupor, immobility for most of day, bedridden, need other people help feed. also malignant catatonia which can be life-threatening (fever, altered consciousness, stupor, and autonomic instability as evidenced by lability of blood pressure, tachycardia, vasoconstriction, and diaphoresis, whatever any of that means)

the "shaw-wing approach": very brief summary, keep person active and do thing they enjoy, use verbal & gentle physical prompts, have structure & routine.

lorazopem challenge: take 2-4 mg of lorazopem to see changes in next 2-5 minutes. if no change, another 1 mg and reassess

lorazopem trial up to 24 mg. (note difference between challenge & trial)

bilateral ECT, last resort.

mild: "shaw-wing approach" -> 2 week lorazopem trial if no imporvement in 1 month -> if effective, do both, if not, just shaw-wing approach

moderate: depends on prefernece, either shaw-wing alone or shaw-wing and 2 week lorazopem trial -> if not effective, do 2 week lorazopem trial if havent already -> if not, bilateral ECT

severe: lorazepam challenge test -> if not effective, bilateral ECT; -> if lorazopem challange positive, 1 week lorazopem trial -> continue if successful, bilateral ECT if not.

can sound extreme, but rememeber for many severe catatonia (autistic or not), it is medical emergency. can be life-threatening. there's no/not a lot of time.

it possible to make partial recovery, as in get better but not to before catatonia. but overall, many permanently lose previous level of functioning.

references

Dhossche, D. M., Shah, A., & Wing, L. (2006). Blueprints for the assessment, treatment, and future study of Catatonia in autism spectrum disorders. International Review of Neurobiology, 267–284. https://doi.org/10.1016/s0074-7742(05)72016-x

Ghaziuddin, M. (2021). Catatonia: A common cause of late regression in autism. Frontiers in Psychiatry, 12. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyt.2021.674009

Ghaziuddin, M., Quinlan, P., & Ghaziuddin, N. (2005). Catatonia in autism: A distinct subtype? Journal of Intellectual Disability Research, 49(1), 102–105. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1365-2788.2005.00666.x

Shah, A. (2019). Catatonia, shutdown and breakdown in autism: A psycho-ecological approach. Jessica Kingsley Publishers.

[skzoologist]

Hidden flaws

word count: ~2.4k

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, arguments

summary: Nobody is perfect, and emotions help highlight those flaws.

a/n: I know this isn't the best I had written and most probably not what any of you expected, but I wanted to show that Bae has his flaws too, that he isn't all those wonderful things he shows to everyone. I hope you guys will still enjoy reading this drabble nonetheless.

Back to the masterlist

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

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A heavy sigh left his chest, his shoulders sagging in temporary relief as the hefty bag was gently thrown into the corner. The door let out a soft click as it closed shut behind his exhausted form, something that only hunched over more as he’d noticed how a certain few pairs of shoes were chaotically thrown in the way. He knew which pair belonged to who, of course he did, and that only heightened his frustrations as he had already asked them several times to not do this.

But no matter. He was way too tired to deal with this right now.

The place was fairly quiet, save for some gentle murmurs of far-away conversations and the occasional shouts of Felix and Jeongin, who were most probably playing some kind of video game against each other -if the cursing was anything to go by, that is-.

And so Bae simply stood there for the next few minutes, drinking in the quite rare moment of silence after a particularly hectic day of work, even though every muscle and tendon inside his body screamed for rest, to just lay down and not move for the next 12 hours. He listened to the passing vehicles down below, the gentle tip-tapping of the water droplets as they hit the windows, of the continuous shuffling of fabric from everyone’s rooms down the hallway.

With each familiar sound his shoulders relaxed, that deeply-etched line between his eyebrows becoming faded and less visible.

But of course, peace could never last long in that dorm, in the one the nine of them shared.

As Bae moved towards his room to rest, his arm dragging his bag behind on the floor, his shoulder was pushed away so violently he nearly tripped backwards, were it not for the wall to catch his stumbling form.

“Jesus christ, watch where you’re going. I nearly fell because of you.” - one of the youngest spat out, anger and frustration dripping from each word.

The tired idol could only watch Seungmin’s leaving form, all his attention stolen from the lack of honorifics and the form of someone else passing by as he immediately closed his eyes so tightly it looked painful. His lung filled to the brim with another intake of air, this one much more urgent than the last, trapped inside until his veins screamed for release and comfort.

It was fine.

He was fine.

After hauling his bag into his room, his eyes momentarily got caught on the clean, folded clothes he had asked someone to put away. But before he could even fully process that information he had heard shouting from the way he had just come from, the two participants of the heated argument painfully obvious. It wouldn’t have been hard to guess anyway, with the mood Seungmin had just been in.

Sure enough, it only took Bae a few steps to witness that exact member and Changbin looking ready to tear each others’ heads off, a sight rarer than ever.

While Seungmin had always been one to stay calm and jokingly teasing, it was even rarer to see Changbin so ready to fight another member. The gym enthusiast always had a heart of gold, exercising his frustrations out instead of throwing it at any of them.

Both of them were only growing more heated with each passing second, veins visibly jumping underneath their skin with fiery anger. Changbin’s fists were both clenched to the point Bae was sure the skin would break, while Seungmin was biting his lip to the point of drawing blood between each violent word he’d stabbed the shorter male with.

Naturally, this drew the attention of every else in the dorm, each pair of eyes wide in disbelief at what was happening. The sight caused them to freeze, unable to believe that out of everyone, these two were having an actual argument and not just a playful banter they always had instead.

But Bae had been there before them by a few minutes, having already witnessed it all, and thus he was able to force his body to move, to act, his hands pushing at the arguing duo’s chests firmly. Two pairs of vicious eyes zeroed in on his form, yet only one’s owner spoke up.

“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing?! You can barely stand, for fuck’s sake! You come back late, you don’t know anything that happened, and yet you dare get between us? You always do this, playing the peacemaker in this group, as if you’re some kind of goody-two-shoes. You’re such a faker!”

It was silent after Seungmin’s words, the entire atmosphere turning chilly and dangerous. Changbin immediately backed down as if he was scorched, Bae’s hand now uselessly lifted in the air and staying completely still, until it returned to his side and clenched into a fist. Still, it was unable to fully conceal the swirling emotions residing deep within his chest, everything that had happened that day, that week, now desperately trying to spill to the top and consume him alive, injuring not only him in the process, but others as well.

A droplet of blood slithered down the cracks of his skin while nobody dared to move, the uttered words hanging in the air, letting their owner realise their meaning as they dug deeply into everyone’s skin like a vicious parasite.

“Seungmin-” “No, Chan. It’s okay. He’s right. In his eyes, I am what he just called me as.” “No, Bae-”

It all happened in an instant.

In one moment, Bae was standing between Seungmin and Changbin, Chan just far enough to not be able to prevent what was to come. Because in the next moment, Seungmin laid on the floor, dishevelled and panicked as Bae loomed above him, an unconcealed rage filling his once kind eyes. Bae’s chest burned with each intake, veins on the verge of bursting from the sudden added pressure and he was sure he would be chipping a tooth if he continued clenching his jaw as hard as he had been doing so far.

But he couldn’t stop himself anymore. It was all too much. All reason was thrown out the window after that comment, something that dug deeper than Seungmin would have ever thought it would.

He’d stepped on a lion’s tail, and now he had to face the consequences.

Bae’s chest heaved violently, his heart hidden inside thumping so fast it was a wonder how it had remained in its rightful place. That vicious, disgustingly familiar feeling gripped at his throat, nearly choking him to death if he didn’t let it out.

In a blink his arm moved to grip the younger’s hoodie better, shouting breaking out around him. The boy in his grip, locked underneath him, looked like a deer caught in headlights, his entire being shaken down to its core.

Bae hated that look. Hated whenever someone looked at him that way, those wide, fearful eyes haunting him in his nightmares relentlessly. He hated how Seungmin visibly shrank in on himself when one of his hands moved, a breath caught in his throat from the sheer fear, even though it wasn’t a movement fueled by violence. Bae hated how those eyes glistened, hated how that revolting feeling inside him writhed in delight at the sight, but out of everything, he hated the most how Seungmin thought he would actually hurt him.

He hated how even that wasn’t enough to cool himself off, the need to move around and destroy still resided inside besides that deep hurt, begging to take control.

So, with a silent exhale, he stood up and wordlessly went to the door, not answering anyone’s questions as only a silent click could be heard behind him.

He’d heard Chan explaining to the others what had happened as he was leaving, the older aussie being the person who had helped Bae keep his anger issues in check easier. Because as calm and collected as he could look, Bae was only a human with countless flaws. And this one, this one had to be his least favourite. He’d gotten better at controlling it over the years of being an idol, but he couldn’t get rid of it. At one point, this bubbling anger would always break onto the surface, burning everyone around him.

And he never failed to dread that moment.

That was how he always found himself in the gym, the punching bag taking all his frustrations and anger away slowly with each punch, his head feeling calmer and emptier. It was how he had gotten into regularly exercising, actually, the act being his much needed anchor.

Because even after all those words, all the days’ frustrations as he filmed countless scenes and practised certain moves over and over again, he would rather die than hurt one of the members, people who had become his family.

“Hey.”

Changbin’s soft voice was a sudden change, something that Bae wasn’t expecting and so his next punch missed, the bag hitting his body instead and causing him to nearly fall to the ground.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you like that.” - the younger male said, helping Bae gather his balance once more. “No, it’s okay.”

It was a bit awkward after that, none of them uttering a single word, merely shuffling in place or fixing their clothes. Bae of course knew why his dongsaeng was there, it couldn’t have been more obvious. Changbin’s eyes looked everywhere but at him, no matter how hard Bae had tried.

A heavy sigh left the younger’s lips, eyes finally meeting Bae’s with a heavy gaze, yet no words accompanied them.

A droplet of sweat glided down the taller’s skin as he closed his eyes, a silent sigh leaving his form.

“It’s okay. I heard Chan hyung explaining things after I left, and the younger ones had to know about it sooner or later.” - Bae said, his voice softer than he had hoped for. “But-” “No buts, Bin, it’s okay. And it wasn’t your fault either. I just… didn’t have the best day. I apologise, truly.” “You aren’t completely right, Hyung. Comeback season is on our necks and this time around, you have the most work put onto your shoulders. Every day you come back past midnight, looking like a zombie, and yet you keep doing chores around the dorm as well. You shouldn’t need to come back to such a scene on top of that, where two of us are fighting, especially when I know how you can be.”

Bae could merely blink down at his younger friend, not having expected that at all.

“Oh come on, say something, don’t just blink at me with those pretty eyes of yours!”

A faint red dusted Bae’s ears at those words, smacking Changbin’s shoulder in return.

“But what was that about anyway?” “You mean the argument? Oh, well… We just haven't really seen eye-to-eye with each others’ performances lately. I… I kept criticising every line he sang, and in return, he kept doing the same with my rap. It all bursted out when I mentioned how he should redo a few lines tomorrow.”

Bae didn’t need to say anything, he could see how Changbin had already reflected over his actions. Regret was clearly written on his face, a slight frown always sitting on his pouty lips. And those deep, dark eyes of his told entire tales of the same thing, and thus, Bae just stood beside him silently.

“Don’t look at me like that, Hyung! I know I fucked up, okay? I shouldn’t be this harsh on him, but I just. I just want him to do his very best, y’know? Because I know he can. He’s our main vocalist, and this track suits him so well.” - Changbin’s voice turned so tender near the end that it almost broke Bae’s heart, because he understood it all.

He also wanted the others to do their very best, to encourage them and help them become that new, best version of themselves. Everyone wanted that from the other, and sometimes that want turned into something hurtful, as regretful as it was.

“Anyway, come on, let’s go so we can both apologise to him, yeah? I would hate for him to go to sleep like this, to actually believe the stupid things I accidentally threw at him.”

With Bae’s silent nod the two were off, the short journey back to their dorms passing in silence. Both males were stressing over their apologies, which words to say that would earn them forgiveness. But deep down Bae feared that he wouldn’t ever be forgiven, his actions harsh and unlike him when his anger took the reins. He knew that all too well. After all, that was the reason why he always went to hide away at the gym at such times.

His stomach churned and rolled around with each step, and much too soon, they were at the door already. Neither of them reached for the handle, as they just stood there, hesitant.

Much too suddenly the door swung open, the person they had least expected standing on the other side, having expected them.

“Come in.” - he said, the two obediently following him into the living room.

It was clear Seungmin had been crying, the skin underneath his eyes scrubbed red and raw. Bae’s heart clenched at the sight, that deep-rooted self hatred only burying itself deeper into his chest. There was a lump growing inside his throat, and he knew that if he were to just stand there, he would be unable to say anything later.

“I’m sorry, Seungmin.” - he whispered out, his voice nearly breaking from hidden emotion.

He turned away to leave, that familiar burning appearing behind his eyes, but something held him back. A quick glance told him that it was Seungmin himself, his small hand peeking out from his sweater paws. A habit he only practised when he was feeling upset.

“No, Hyung, stay. Please.” - the boy whispered out, tugging at his sleeve once more with such desperation that Bae couldn’t deny, even as a stray tear rolled down his skin.

And so the three stayed in the living room over warm cups of tea and ramyeon, talking everything out. Although the damage had been done, scars could heal if looked after properly; and none of them were planning to leave.

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

Hannibal Dash Simulator Season 2

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin reblogged

🐈‍⬛team-sassy-science

Me and @ autopsyguy going to get some drinks after work.

@ teamsassyscience Why wasn't I invited? And who took that picture?

13 notes

#friends #who i will forgive for not inviting me drinking this one time

🌸flowers-in-bloom reblogged

I know this is a stretch, but has anyone seen my dog? He keeps running away and I haven't gotten the chance to microchip him because of this. If you see him, he answers to Winston, and my address is on his collar (he's the one on the upper left, this is the only picture I have).

🌸flowers-in-bloom

Never mind. I found him. Thank you to everyone who tried to help. He is now microchipped.

🌸flowers-in-bloom

Winston ran away again. The microchip is not 100% accurate, so please, if you see him, let me know. I'm afraid he might get hit by a car or attacked by a wild animal.

821 notes

#dogs #dog #missing dog

🔍iwishididn'thaveatwin

Okay, something happened at work, and I am currently OBSESSED. Just have to share this with you guys. This article is the best. I set up the link, so just click the picture.

174 notes

#bees #apiary #honey production

🔥Sponsored

_________Verger Meat Packaging

Fresh, high-quality meat. Perfect for any occasion. Pork, beef, and chicken from a variety of breeds, available for all budgets. Professionally raised on one of the oldest farms in the state.

------------------------------Learn More

0 notes

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

Petition to save local songbird habit from complete destruction

Local Baltimore City Council Sheldon Isley brokered a deal several years ago to turn the habit of endangered songbirds into a parking lot. Recently, there have been discussions going on further developing what little remains of these birds' home. More information and links below the cut.

_______________________Keep Reading

7,843 notes

#birds #petition #songbirds #wildlife #baltimore

🐎animal-lover12233

4 notes

🦅lonesome-hawk reblogged lonesome-hawk

Just LOOK at him.

🦅lonesome-hawk

Yes, I know he's on trial for murder. But if you had been following the trial like I have, you would know he's being framed. Now shut up and leave me alone. I'm disabling comments.

843 notes

🌸flowers-in-bloom

😶‍🌫️Anonymous asked:

Aren't those @ dogsandflyfishing's dogs?

Yes, they are. I am taking care of them for him while he is unable to.

2 notes

#ask answered

📸tattlecrime-official

Coming soon!

The REAL story of Will Graham and how his peculiar mind works, and how he was tragically framed to be the infamous Chesapeake Ripper.

Click on the links below to subscribe to TattleCrime.com for official updates and exclusive snippets.

-------------------------------Keep Reading

365 notes

#tattlecrime #official story #will graham

🐻prehistoric-predator

I'm partial to the Cave Bear myself, but a Dire Wolf is also a good choice. Before you vote, I've got some studies and info in the link below and some general information so you can make informed decision.

I'm curious to see what you guys think; I'm having to make a really tough decision right now.

Reblog for larger sample size

_______________________Keep Reading

69 notes

#cave bear #dire wolf #poll #polls #my poll

🐕dogsandflyfishing reblogged

🍷are-we-not-made-in-his-image

Lomo Saltado

Recipe below cut.

_______________________Keep Reading

37 notes

#recipe #cooking #lomo saltado

🐕dogsandflyingfishing

Everyone who is asking about Buster in the last picture I put up, he is okay. He got on the wrong side of a wild animal, which happens from to time when you live in a rural area. He needed stitches, but he will be fine. Stop accusing me of mistreating my dogs.

12 notes

#ask answered

😷autopsyguy

I've been going through a hard time lately. A friend of mine recently passed, @ teamsassyscience, and I've been thinking about her a lot. Two other friends of mine, @ dogsandflyfishing and @ flowers-in-bloom, along with my boss, are currently in the hospital and things don't look good. I'm really worried

Not what any of you wanted to hear, but I just needed to vent and didn't know where else to do it.

Here's to Beverly, and hoping that Will, Alana, and Jack pull through.

73 notes

📸tattlecrime-official

EXCLUSIVE!

A Red Dinner

Today, the entire city of Baltimore was rocked by the shocking revelation that renowned psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, is indeed the true Chesapeake Ripper. According to sources, Lecter very nearly took the lives of three people, and killed a third. Will Graham, once accused himself of being the Ripper. Dr. Alana Bloom, his lover. And Special Agent Jack Crawford of the FBI, a man Lecter has worked with closely in recent months. The one victim who was DOA is reportedly none other than Abigail Hobbs, who has been assumed murdered for months now, previously by none other than Will Graham. And what's more, it turns out he isn't just a serial killer, he is a cannibal as well.

Click Here for the rest of the story on TattleCrime.com

7,651 notes

#tattlecrime #official #hannibal the cannibal

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

My memory is terrible so I wanted to do a breakdown of my stuff every once in a while. Might be monthly, might be whenever I feel like it. And also. Spoilers and opinions below, read at your own risk.

QL - Currently Watching

🇯🇵I Hear the Sunspot [1/12] - I'm so grateful that I get a new jbl just as I'm mourning the end of the last one. I didn't read this manga but I've watched the film, and I really liked it even if it felt unfinished. Hopefully with 12 episodes it means we get the full story. This was a very good first episode, I feel like we established the main relationships dynamics and got a good insight into the main characters core. Taichi is my new child.

🇹🇭 Knock Knock, Boys! [6/12] - I continue to enjoy this group. Jane turned out to be a great addition instead of what I feared, but Peak really needs to step up so I can keep rooting for him and Thanwa, cause I'm also not a huge fan of the ex coming back as an obstacle for the couple. Latte and Almond are really great together and I'm curious how Almond will deal with his feelings for Latte, when he actually realizes he's having them.

🇹🇭Love Sea [4/12] - Before anything else, I love the ocean and I love when shows get out of the city. Also I like Mut. Now. I'm not a Mame hater. I'm a 'trauma is the only way to write deep characters' hater. I'm also a 'trauma gives you an excuse to be an asshole' hater. But most of all, I'm very much a 'love will fix you' hater. So just don't give me 3 out of 3 and it's fine. Also this last episode, all the talk about money and contracts made me feel some kind of way, although it doesn't seem to bother Mut so... And as much I like having Aya on my screen, Mook is really testing that line between cute and incredibly annoying. I'm not sure how long I'm staying with this one.

🇹🇭My Love Mix-Up! [4/12] - So... this is not good. The technical aspects of this are actually bad. Considering the number of sponsors is actually kinda incredible that it's so badly put together. The sound, the lighting, the editing, overall just... not good. Now, the rest. Look I don't want to ruin anybody's fun, so I'll keep watching this one quietly, unless something outrageous happens. But for the record, and this is all I'm gonna say, they are ruining the best parts of these characters and this story, and even if I ignore that (which I can't because it's an adaptation), it's pandering and it's a lazy attempt at recapturing the magic of msp, with a worse script and recycled material. Also I cannot believe they didn't put Atom in a trashing bag.

🇹🇭 My Stand-In [1/12] - For a number of reasons I'm waiting to binge this one. I do love watching the gifs on my dash though, pretty is pretty.

🇯🇵Ossan no Pants ga Nandatte Ii Janai ka! [9/11] - It's so good. I love them all. This last episode I was close to tears in several parts but the street proposal ended me. It's definitely one of those shows that I'm grateful that I get to watch even if I can't always find the words to talk about it. These characters have my whole heart. [everyone should be watching this and the wonderful @isaksbestpillow has made that possible with her subs. Here is the post with the latest episode. ]

🇹🇭SunsetxVibes [3/12] - It's ridiculous, it's fun, it's cute. Sun is such a simp. Man basically proposed before they were even dating. And yeah the way it started was not amazing, with the lying, but these two actually communicate about their expectations and what they're feeling which is better than a lot of shows right now. And I adore the sides.

🇹🇭The Rebound [2/12] - Everyone is gay and naked. And they play a sport of some kind.

🇹🇭The Trainee [1/12] - OffGun are back! I really liked the set up for this. It's only the first episode but I really like how they are walking the line between the comedy and the seriousness of the workplace. I love a good friend group so I'm looking forward to seeing how the relationships between all the interns grow. Poon is once again playing the silly brainless child of the pack but I don't care, I adore that kid for some reason. And next week we already got Gun crying so what's not to like?

🇹🇭 Wandee Goodday [10/12] - I already talked about my feelings regarding the last episode. I'm here for Oyei/Cher and Plakao. I love Inn and Great, they deliver with the chemistry but the DeeYak storyline is just a mess for me right now. I am also not looking forward to the inevitable redemption of the terrible parental figure.

🇹🇭 We Are [13/16] - The friendships are still great and mainly why I'm watching. I have a really good time watching those scenes. Only 3 episodes left and ChainPun continue to be the tinniest of crumbs. I don't expect much from this couple at this point and I'm a bit disappointed. FangTan are so cute and such good communicators. They are my favourites. QToey are cute. Now, Phum and Peem. Look PondPhuwin are really good at looking at each other like they're the only person in the universe. However. There's only so many times I can enjoy them staring at each other in slow mo. Once per episode oughta be enough I think. Hopefully now that they're actual boyfriends it gets a little less annoying.

QL - Finished

🇯🇵25 Ji, Akasaka de - What an incredible journey. I have to say it has been a while since a show surprised me this much, for the positive. For most of it I wasn't sure where it was gonna go or how it would end or who would be doing the running. The way they played with the show within a show was so well done. I loved the change in pov, which I always love in jbls, but it not only gave us the opportunity to see how Hayama's crush started but also we were allowed to see behind the mask that Hayama had been keeping up. Speaking of. I love him, one of my favourite characters of the year. And Komagine Kiita did an incredible job. I can't wait to watch him again when Tengu returns. If I had to say, the one thing I wish I had was more of Shirasaki's backstory. I wanted to understand better why his self-esteem got that bad. But that ending was great and honestly, I earned it.

🇵🇭Marahuyo Project - Well that was excellent. This show is beautiful. I want to hug them all and walk next to them. I really don't have the words for it right now so just go watch it. Because these characters are incredible and the visuals are stunning. All episodes here.

🇹🇭 Only Boo! - This is getting tiresome. Here it goes. Why? It was so great. They were the cutest shit and I had a smile on my face the entire episode. Even with the singing. It was wholesome and the mains delightful. And then... Heartbreak, time skip, no consequences, unearned happy ending. I mean Moo is a great character still, and Kang is the best boy, but I'm tired.

Rose Watches OJBL

Mood Indigo (2019) - I liked this one slightly better than the first. I think the visuals are stronger and there are some incredible shots throughout. The sex scenes are some of the best shot that I've ever seen. I love Kijima so even though I'm not always on board with prequels, it was great that we got more insight into him. Obviously we know this relationship was doomed from the start, and Kido has a lot to do with how we find Kijima in the beginning of The Novelist, but I can't help but feel for Kido. He is a mess that is struggling between the expectations that are on him (put there by others but also himself) and the affection and desire he feels for Kijima. And even without watching The Novelist there is always an air that this will not end well. For lack of a better phrase, it just wasn't meant to be. I'm looking forward to watching the rest of this series.

Dangerous Drugs of Sex (2020) - One of my first thoughts when I was watching this was 'we are using the word unhinged too freely'. Cause Ryoji has little competition on that score. This is not an easy watch. I really liked the way it was shot even if at times that meant my view was too narrow so I couldn't look anywhere else but the 'uglier' parts. In completely different ways they were both stuck in an uncomfortable (yeah that's not really the best word but I can't think of another) place and I could feel that throughout. I'm not sure about the ending but they look happy, so what do I know?

Other - Watched

There's a lot airing so I didn't watch much outside ql. I finished Under the Skin and rewatched a couple of things. My watchlist got longer and I have a bunch of shows that I'll hopefully tackle during my summer holiday in July. Speaking of...

There is a lot coming next month, so here is a post with all the shows that have been announced for July that I updated to include Meet You at the Blossom that was recently announced. New jbl starts tomorrow!!!!

As usual my ask box is open for questions or requests. Have a wonderful week💜

[kitsuneechoes]

Was conversing with someone recently and realized I wanted to share my full awakening experience here. I know/think I've talked about it some, but I think it'd be nice to go a little more into detail.

Keep reading below ˏˋ°• ⁀➷

My Awakening: A Timeline of Events That Led to Where I Am Now

彡 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Early Childhood ࿐ྂ

Before I became aware of otherkin and therianthropy, I started off a simple kid. A kid, who - just like any other kid at the time - loved to play and act like an animal. I would run around on all fours, I would bark, yip, and growl. Yet when other children started to grow out of that 'phase', I found I couldn't stop.

Other kids moved on to other interests, but for me, those animal urges I thought was pretend stuck around. I still find myself reacting in nonhuman ways and often, it would be out of instinct. A loud noise and I would yelp. Danger nearby and I would growl or bare my teeth.

I didn't understand it at that time, but I soon realized that I wasn't like everyone else.

彡 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Fast-forward to 2009 ࿐ྂ

By the time I reached age 12, I started to feel insecure. Was I crazy? Was something wrong with me? Why couldn't I just act and be normal like everyone else? Why was I the only one struggling to control something inside of me that I didn't even understand?

I also found myself drawn to certain media. Werewolves, shifters, fantasy creatures in movie and tv shows. When I saw them, I thought to myself, 'I'm like that.' I even attempted once or twice to 'shift', but of course, it never happened.

Still, after finally being fed up on not knowing what was happening to me, I took to the internet. I quickly researched things like, 'Am I a shifter?', 'Am I a werewolf?', 'Am I cursed?'. The results led me straight to the term Therianthropy and from there, I fell down a rabbit hole.

I researched as much as I could about Therianthropy, and then Otherkin. I found the community and immediately signed up to forums that were active back then. I asked and pried and pleaded those I talked to, to help me figure out what was wrong with me. They told me and I had my awakening.

It all became crystal clear - the instincts, the behaviors, the urges, the 'limbs' I couldn't explain but were there. I even had an explanation to what I now know as mental shift flares that I was having. Everything fell into place and I couldn't have been more happier.

But that didn't last too long.

彡 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ The Seed of Doubt ࿐ྂ

After my awakening, I was so secure and sure that I had everything figured out. I was a canine therian and that was all there was to it. Except it wasn't. My canine therian identity lasted only about a year or two before I had my first 'cameo shift' (which I now know to be a result from my shapeshifting ability).

At first, I shrugged it off. No big deal, I was just mistaken. Obviously this second identity is the right one!

Nope.

Since that first cameo shift, my 'identities' only lasted several months before the next form came up. Then it became an endless cycle of trying to figure out what I was. Canine, feline, lemur, monkey, horse, bear, red panda, otter. I even had shifts of a dragon and fae.

This lasted for nearly a decade.

It sent me into a spiral of quick depression because I questioned if I really was anything. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I was delusional and I had just been a human playing pretend this whole time.

I gave up.

彡 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5 Years Ago ࿐ྂ

When I gave up, I stopped having shifts. I stopped noticing my phantom limbs. I blocked it all out and tried to focus on 'being human'. I had a job, so I kept my attention on it and pretended that all of what happened had just been a phase.

That was a bad choice.

Right after I did that, I became depressed. Severely depressed. My mental health spiraled down and nothing felt right anymore. I lost motivation, I lost enthusiasm, I lost interest in things I used to enjoy. Looking back now, I knew it was because I had lost myself.

When it reached a low point, I told myself I had to go back and try again. I had to dig deeper, do some self-reflecting. After all, all of those experiences I had - they had to have meant something. So, I took to the internet again and I researched.

I researched for months. I allowed myself to feel again. To feel my phantom limbs, to let myself shift. When I did, everything flowed back and I felt whole again, but still confused. What first came back was what I thought to be canine. So I analyzed and researched, but then I had moments where it felt like I was a feline. So I analyzed and I researched. I made journals to write down what I experienced, what I felt, what triggered my forms and shifts.

I spent a year doing this and, finally, I had what I call my second awakening.

Looking through all of my notes, I had narrowed it down to either being canine or feline. I shared traits with both and, despite having moments where I would cameo into other forms, it always returned to one of those. I looked into animals that shared their traits and that's when I realized the fox.

After researching foxes and learning about them, I finally felt that tug - that pull. I was going in the right direction.

For a few months, I stuck with the fox identity, thinking I was a fox therian, but I kept having cameo shifts. I kept having moments where my form would just shift and I would feel phantom limbs of other animals/creatures. Wings, scales, larger paws, larger ears, fluffy fur, thing fur. It hadn't stopped despite thinking I had found out what I was.

That's when I decided to look up fox plus shifters.

彡 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kitsune ࿐ྂ

Finally, it all clicked. That was it. That was what I was.

I don't know how to best describe it, but when I realized I was a kitsune, I felt like something within me unlocked. As if I had been trapped for so long and I finally reached the key, setting myself free.

Afterwards, I started to have flashbacks - memories in my dreams of sights, sounds, and images. The more it happened, the more I learned and that has led me to where I am today.

That is my awakening experience. Today, I am a kitsune and proud to be one. Although my shapeshifting ability was annoying at first, it's fun to have now that I can control it.

Anyways, thank you for reading!

[part5of4podcast]

Ok so you’re looking for a BL but with a specific flavor, like all you’re seeing at the cookout is potato salad but what you’re craving is some mac ‘n cheese, or maybe some tostones, or maybe a fresh off the grill burger? But the only thing people keep offering you is different styles of potato salad when damnit you asked for a burger! Don't bamboozle us here!

Well, luckily BL is a pretty vast genre, with a lot to offer in terms of substance and variety. If you’re up to expanding what stories you engage in, we’re up to both share and listen! Feel free to share any BL or GL that fall under today's genre highlight from tv shows, to comics, to novels, to film; we love and eat it all up, baby. 

Today’s recs are for all things horror! Happy Halloween send your love to Ghostface, Chuckie and the Babadook. 

Dead Friend Forever 

What is it? 

A Thai horror bl tv show that ran for 12 episodes each at 45mins of length. Available to watch on iQiyi. 

Ok but what IS it?

A show about the horror of friendship that has a literal body count, but you can read the official summary here: 

"Eight school friends take a trip to a vacation house in the mountains. It's supposed to be a last sendoff to a friend who's going to study abroad. The farewell has them revisiting old memories and they discover hints there's a ninth person hidden somewhere in the house. Soon, they're contending with life-threatening incidents and realize this is no ordinary farewell; a dreadful party of disaster awaits them."

Shadow

What is it? 

A Thai tv show that ran for 14 episodes at 45mins of length. Available to watch on VIU and Gaga.

Ok but what IS it?

Nobody does horror like an oppressive Catholic school OR the full summary below: 

"After his father's cancer diagnosis, Dan transferred to an all-boys boarding school. While navigating a new school, he learns about a mysterious student who disappeared last year, all while dealing with his own Shadow that shows up every night during his dreams..."

The Summer Hikaru Died 

What is it? 

An on-going seinen horror/slice of life manga series available via Yen Press. 

Ok but what IS it?

Small town boy's bestie dies in a hiking accident and an eldritch being walking by says "hey, neat body sir mind if I steal it?" 

Or: 

"It has Hikaru’s face. It has Hikaru’s voice. It even has Hikaru’s memories. But whatever came down from the mountains six months ago isn’t Yoshiki’s best friend. Whatever it is, it’s dangerous. Carrying on at school and hanging out as if nothing has changed—as if Hikaru isn’t gone—would be crazy...but when it looks so very like Hikaru...and acts so very like Hikaru..."

After Sundown 

What is it? 

A Thai supernatural horror film running at 1hr and 45mins and not currently legally available online. 

Ok but what IS it?

Know those two dudes from Cutie Pie? Zee and NuNew? Of course you do, well they did a ghost horror movie where they fall in love in between being haunted, good for them. 

Or: 

"Set in 1961, Saengrawi Raemsawang lived with Luang Lung Janthakorn until he turns twenty-one and is sent to live at Sitthikornkan Castle in Phra Nakhon. The castle is owned by Phraphloeng, currently living abroad. Heading the words of a sage, Phloeng's parents urge him back to Thailand. About to turn twenty-five, a prophecy requires him to soon find his soulmate to secure his safety; they may not be a woman, nor born in Phra Nakhon. Throughout his stay with Phloeng's family, Rawi is plagued by nightmares and haunted by a spirit. When he begins staying close to Phloeng, however, the spirit is quiet. It soon becomes clear that whatever is haunting the house is focused entirely on Rawi."

Kaleidoscope of Death 

What is it?

A Chinese horror supernatural web novel, 139 chapters in length with 10 bonus chapters, unofficially translated. 

Ok but what IS it?

Do you know how much it would suck to be stuck in a horror video game? 

Or: 

"It started off peculiarly; first, his domestic cat refused to let him cuddle it.

Lin Qiushi soon found that a sense of disharmony and incongruity began to pervade everything around him.

Then, one odd day, he pushed open a door, and he discovered that the hallway he was familiar with turned into a boundless corridor.

At both ends of this corridor were twelve, identical iron gates.

Thus, the story began.

Ruan Nanzhu said to Lin Qiushi, “When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back.”

Upon hearing this, Lin Qiushi sank into deep contemplation. He then pulled down the zipper of his trousers and aimed at the abyss…

Ruan Nanzhu: “…Put your pants on properly!”

Super shameless, ill, pampered gong X Shameless, calm shou; a combination of double [or extreme] shamelessness."

The Spirealm 

What is it?

A Chinese horror mystery show based on Kaleidoscope of Death, 78 episodes at 20mins of length. Available on iQiyi and VIU. 

Ok but what IS it?

Once again, do you know how much it would suck to be stuck inside a horror video game? 

Or:

"Ling Jiu Shi finds himself inexplicably thrust inside a mind-bending reality dictated by an enigmatic Virtual Reality game where he must pass twelve doors to escape. The catch? Each door initiates new mysteries to solve and conditions to abide by."

Goddess Bless You from Death 

What is it?

An upcoming Thai tv show from the same studio that brought you Pit Babe, starring the leads of Pit Babe. No official release date yet. 

Ok but what IS it?

No clue yet, but the vibes are immaculate. 

If you have recommendations drop them below.

You can also listen to our podcast episode on Dead Friend Forever as well! 

[literallys-illiteracy]

I'm not late you're late - New Shit Overview - Limbus Company - BP EGO:

Overview of all the Battle Pass EGO, plus with nice art from various artists i follow, that being said

please follow and support the original artists, all art is credited, with links to original artist source + other main accounts.

No the art isn't strictly necessary but I like using this as an excuse to shoutout some artists i like

Yearning - Mircalla Meursault:

Src: Project Moon (yes this is the PV, Art of this hasn't come across my dash/feed on any media i use for art :(, this is a placeholder, i'll probably make something for this)

can roll for up to 29 if the enemy has 12 bleed, rolls for 21 without conditionals this is essentially a better version of Sanguine desire rodion it is able to proc bleed-damage 5 times when being used, which is higher than the 2x damage that Sanguine Desire Rodion can deal, not to mention the fact that Rodion Deals lust damage while Meursault deals flat (bleed) damage

even more: Meursault's EGO needs 4+ resonance, not 4+ Absolute Resonance as Rodion does for highest results

This EGO also has a unique effect: Rose Wedge:

""Basically"" Max count is 4: This effect's count is applied through Meursault's EGO, up to a max of 4; Count is reduced at round en Max Potency is 10: Every time the unit with this effect takes 10 Bleed damage, increase potency by one. When this unit gains bleed through getting hit, inflict 1 bleed on attacker and 2 bleed on self. At 10 Potency, also gain +1 bleed count. [Combat end]: At either 10 Potency or 1 count, this effect expires, and deals [Potency x10] lust damage to this unit (max 100 Lust damage) if this effect kills, deal [Potency x2] Lust damage to all this unit's allies.

This unique effect on its own deals roughly half of Rodion's sanguine desire's lust damage effect.

This EGO also shares the same finale effect as Sanguine Desire: dealing the excess damage (on fourth coin specifically, so if it kills coins 1-3 then this effect will not proc) to all other allies of that unit.

Corrosion:

this EGO corrosion makes use of Meursault's predisposition for High-HP ID's, as it consumes 10% of his own Max HP in order to deal 5% of his max hp (or rather the consumed HP/2) to all allies and enemies.

This effect does not trigger below 50% hp however, in which case he will add 5 bleed to all allies, before activating bleed on all allies and healing for the damage done (minimum (assuming 6 sinners) 30 HP, Max (assuming all allies have 99 Bleed potency) 594 HP healed)

The corrosion rolls for a whopping 1 higher than the awakening, at 30 (with conditionals)

This EGO, when corroding, does not require the same 4+ resonance that the awakening does for the first 2 Bleed damage-trigger effects, the final coin's triple trigger however does require said 4 Resonance.

The third coin of corrosion saves you some time, as if the enemy did not have Rose Wedge prior to it being inflicted, it inflicts an additional 4 potency, meaning only 60 bleed damage must occur for max damage.

-

My primary concern for this EGO is that of Bleed-count sustainability, i know that vampires are literally the bleed 'counts' but still (i am so sorry).

Namely because, the coin effect of the triple bleed activation requires a clash win, meaning that it cannot work against staggered targets; This is notable as it means the enemy requires at least 7 bleed count prior to Meursault beginning his clash, otherwise all bleed count will be consumed (1 or more from clashing, 1 each from coins 1 and 2, and then up to three from the final effect). Meursault's best bleed EGO, Rhino, is however excellent at applying bleed, as are many other ID's, the only problem therin being that those ID's have a tendency to be less effective regarding bleed potency that not.

This EGO, although i actually already wrote on it slightly in the past, makes me think about what is it that Meursault is so longing for in order to use this EGO; I know there's the line of thought with carnal desires relating to Marie back in the book, but id argue that its likely to be more than that, as if it was purely desire-driven then Heathcliff or Ishmael would have been better fits for the EGO.

His passive heals him for like up to 10 HP per turn, equal to the amount of bleed damage he deals/takes or something, i only noticed i didn't mention this at all in final editing

Yearning - Mircalla Don Quixote:

Src:@NishikujiC on twitter

This EGO rolls for up to 12 without conditionals. Coin power gained based on enemy bleed, up to 2, allows for this ego to roll for 23. And this EGO gains clash power based on BLOODFEAST CONSUMED BY **SELF** (which Don Quixote is currently unable to do, until she gains her season ID presumably) all together this EGO can clash for 23 currently, and 28 when she gets her seasonal ID.

This EGO deals more damage for each coin based on **Cumulative** Bloodfeast Consumed, which includes all allies and enemies. All coins share the same damage increase ratio, being 1% per 10 Bloodfeast Consumed (shared), or 0.1x per 1.

Coin 1 maxes out at 10% increase, requiring 100 Bloodfeast consumed; Coin 2 At 20%, needing 200. Coin 3 at 30%, needing 300. Coin 4 at 50%, needing 500 total bloodfeast consumed.

This EGO also has a unique effect, Polydipsic Rose:

Max Value: 5 Turn end: If this unit has 10+ bleed potency, take 1% max HP lust damage per value (maximum 30 Lust damage per value), then reduce value by one.

The awakening EGO applies 4 of this effect, which will deal a total of 10% max hp Lust damage (max 300 Lust damage) over its duration.

The Corrosion EGO applies 5, dealing a total of 15% max HP Lust damage (Max 450 Lust damage)

When used in Corrosion:

this EGO will roll for 30, being a negative coin EGO. It additionally has the Yaoi-Meursault effect of unyielding until the skill is finished, where her HP cannot drop below 1.

On use, gain 20 bleed, activate bleed on self, and reduce bleed count on self by 2; this can theoretically be useful for removing potentially fatal bleed count on self, however i believe its intended use is to instead stack more latent bloodfeast for the bloodfiend ID's to use.

Funnily enough, due to her passive "Spring Crimson Blossom", she is less likely to roll heads if this EGO has been used previously this combat, as she will heal a whopping 2 SP due to the 20 bleed damage on self.

This EGO corrosion is able to inflict 22 bleed potency, 2 through a [before attack] effect if under 150 bloodfeast; 1 for every 50 Bloodfeast consumed (total) up to a max of 10 and 500 consumed. 10 inflicted when under 100 bloodfeast.

on the second coin, it deals 20% increased damage for every 100 total Bloodfeast consumed, up to a max of 100% increase. additionally, this EGO will heal Don for 50% of the damage that coin dealt, exactly like Le Sangre De Sancho, except this healing is maxed at 10 per target, for a max of 70 healing. 70 Healing is nothing to scoff at in the slightest, but at the same time, the other self healing-damage dealing EGO in the game, Wingbeat, can consistently heal Ishmael to full HP Moreso, other healing EGO arent limited by the targetable enemies, making this far less useful than other healing EGO in any non-group battle situation, maybe if she had some sort of gimmick like meursault where she had 14 attack weight but only healed/dealt bleed damage on allies? idk.

Her passive heals for 1 SP every time 10 bleed damage occurs, maxed at 10.

Lasso Faust:

Src: @stellar-jasper Stellar_jasper Linktree

this EGO rolls for 13 without conditionals. This EGO gains power based on enemy rupture and speed, being able to roll for 22 total.

Before attack: Gain 2 Haste next turn.

This EGO is count negative by one, as it inflicts +2 on coin 1 of three.

This EGO's passive works well with Seven Ass. Faust due to having the same: "after attack, if enemy is staggered or defeated". This EGO passive is also able to inflict rupture count, being +1 count on 2 enemies

Lasso Hong Lou:

Src: @stellar-jasper Stellar_jasper linktree

This EGO rolls for 12 without conditionals. With conditionals (total speed (self speed + Enemy speed) and enemy Rupture) this ego rolls for 24.

This EGO is ALSO count negative, inflicting *up to* (based on glut. Resonance) +3 count on coin 3 of four.

its weird that PM has been trying to make Rupture-Bleed a thing since season 1, back with Ebony Queen's stem.

This EGO is interesting? its Rupture count negative, it inflicts rupture based on own speed?

This EGO also has an effect (Lasso Faust corrosion shares this effect but i CBA): "Lasso"

Lasso: Round end, gain rupture potency equal to speed value (max 5), then reduce count by one and gain 1 bind next turn

....

....why does it inflict based on speed count... when it drops their speed count? it drops their speed count...

This EGO actually rolls lower during corrosion, being 23 rather than 24.

In corrosion this EGO inflicts 1 extra HP healing down and Lasso effect, while inflicting 1 less rupture count (due to it losing a coin it remains at -1 count total) and +2 bleed count.

I rather like the correlation between roses and bloodfiends, linking the Rose-hunter's into being the bloodfiend hunters as only bloodfiend hunters (and also season 1's R.B. Chef de Cuisine Ryōshū) possess this effect.

The only flaw in that correlation however is that the "rose" aspect of the hunter is not it searching for roses, the "rose" descriptor is self referential, it is instead hunting apples.

on the final coin only, deal 1% more damage for every rupture, and the same effect for bleed, for a potential 60% increase total.

I don't like rupture very much so i don't have too many thoughts on that aspect, however, i am somewhat interested in the thematic surrounding this Abnormality, including both Faust and Hong Lou, alongside the fact that it was included in Don Quixote's Dungeon and Canto. Specifically, other than the obvious fairy tale motif shared by Don herself, it has the trait of a supposed "predetermined story" of sorts, as seen through both the awakening EGO lines:

Follow the predetermined path of the tale. Be ensnared, for that is only right.

Run along the flow and voilà~ There you are!

This can be related to Don herself acting "how a fixer should act" in her belief, upholding, and attempting to prove the justness of her version of justice, and her dismay when something should slight that (eg. during the casino scene of canto 2).

there is more elaboration to be made in a follow up post, i would normally write it here, however i like to avoid cross-contamination with when i discuss spoilers/new content

Hex Nail sinclair:

(There were others i just wanted an excuse to shout this artist out) Src:@shroomychan.bsky.social @Myceliumycete on tumblr

Rolls for 21 max.

Hits up to 3 enemies.

Inflicts up to 4 curse (2 min. 4 max.) and inflicts 3 nails. this EGO also consumes 2 curse on hit, and activates both those curse-effects immediately. At 4+ curse, inflict 1 same turn clash power down for some reason its clarified that it can only inflict the clash power down once per turn which.... its a 2 coin skill so Rusty Commemorative Coin doesn't work... and it's an EGO so you can't use it twice in a turn?

Corrosion:

this EGO rolls for a 25 in corrosion, becoming a negative coin skill.

the conditional for maximum curse is now removed, being 4 by default; the first coin also applies one more bleed potency. (3)

if 4+ envy resonance, this skill will inflict 1 clash power down (still same turn). For some reason the in game text feels the need to clarify "4+ envy resonance including this skill" which... yeah? that's how resonance works? None of the other EGO released this batch have these weird additional sections in their coin effects, its only Hex Nail(s)? All of the others just say "for/if X+ resonance"

additionally, this skill will have attack weight 3 by default instead of requiring envy resonance (for every 3 envy resonance INCLUDING THIS SKILL gain attack weight +1)

Passive: Gain Clash power up and defense level up if this unit has a negative effect on self at round start... This EGO doesn't have any self inflicted negative effects? Not even the corrosion has any self negative effects? Sinclair doesn't even have a self-negative effect ID yet? and i don't see him getting a bloodfiend ID for self-bleed shenanigans? idk.

ok now let me Nail Sincla

Hex Nail Rodion:

Src: minji_mj2802 on twitter Minji_mj's Carrd

Rolls for 24

After attack will heal SELF AND 2 OTHERS for 15% of THIS UNIT'S max HP. Note two things, the fact that this will always heal self (which pursuance is unable to do) and heals based on own max HP, unlike other Healing EGO like Meursault's Pursuance which heals the other sinners max HP.

Each unit being healed will heal 2.5% HP for every negative effect on self (max 10% increase to healing)

Heals self and three allies at 4+ envy resonance [[INCLUDING THIS SKILL]].

inflicts 4 Bleed, 3 curse, 3 nails.

in corrosion, this EGO rolls for 28 as a negative coin skill.

This attack will heal 3 other allies and self for 20% of this unit's max HP. every unit this heals will gain 1 offence level up for every negative effect on self (max 3) this will also heal one additional ally at 4+ envy resonance **[[INCLUDING THIS SKILL]]**

Passive:

When this unit inflicts bleed or unique bleed against an enemy with non EGO attack skills, inflict 1 defence level down (once per turn) Also inflict 2 additional bleed if target already possessed bleed or unique bleed.

If an ally, including self, takes unblocked HP damage from "the" enemy, inflict 1 curse against said enemy (2 times per turn)

I want to point out the fact that the description says from "the" enemy? i'm assuming this means that once you hit someone they gain curse if they attempt to attack someone back? Also, i'm fairly sure that Rodion is now the first to have 3 He EGO? we need someone to get a third Zayin, fourth Teth, fourth He, or second Waw to break the records now i guess

Now there are some interesting things to note about Hurting teddy bear as a whole so lets give that its own heading:

Hex Nail Primogenitor Hurting Teddy Bear:

Or i suppose happy teddy bear is the ancestor so it should be just progenitor? or is the well the primogenitor? im overthinking this.

So lets start with obvious observations: The correlation that can be made with voodoo dolls, the common idea of a cursed doll that you insert nails into, hence the status effect "Curse" first being present in this abnormalities EGO and only later appearing in another archetypically "haunted" or "Cursed" thematic of Bygone Days.

While 'Happy Teddy Bear' was a toy that was abandoned by its owner, the Hurting Teddy Bear seems to not have the same kind of integrality with its owner that its progenitor had, due to the lack of any direct mention of its owner. Rather, 'Hurting Teddy Bear' seems to be indicative of abuse or being controlled by another in life, represented through a clearly abused and neglected toy — It's less directly clear as to how this relates to Faust's past as we know, to use to technical term, "absolutely fucking nothing" about her past; Rodion's relation can be seen in her sprite and animation, with her use of the bear as a puppet (or the puppets control of her during corrosion), this is related to social determinism*, wherein the circumstances of neglect and abuse that surrounded Rodion within her past were the direct cause of her crime of murdering the pawn shop owner. we can too see this in the Corrosion line:

Now, little Rodya. Hurt them with your own hands. Fuhu, ta-da!

The obvious correlation to be made being "Hurt them with your own hands". This concept of puppetry extends in two more aspects, the first of which being Rodion's base EGO: What is Cast. specifically referring to her line during said EGO, which reinforces my posited argument with the abuse controlling her:

I couldn't undo a thing

'She' couldn't undo a thing, 'she' wasn't the one who was in control.

as for the second, i have yet to see this for myself but from what i've heard: while her face during the corrosion's idle sprite is normally somewhat dour, if zoomed in on, her expression changes to that of a normal, cheery Rodion. This can be interpreted as the consequences/circumstances of Rodion's abuse and past still controlling how she behaves to this day, while still in this company, a concept that is a fairly common sentiment ive seen as her story is far from finished.

The awakening sprite could be representative of this in reverse, her harm towards those who ARE corrupt and immoral.

Sinclair is much more direct, being the concept of abuse and exploitation by Kromer, and to some extent im sure neglect by his family — This doesn't explain the entirety of this EGO however, as the line's do not support this entirely:

Why don't you try impaling yourself with it, then. Feel what it's like to have someone curse you…

Now that you're torn, I'll sew you up! Heheh… Get over here!

Rather than just being *the* abuse that Sinclair has suffered, i believe that, while downstream of that idea, the most accurate representation is the embodiment of resentment, hatred at others who abused him over time, his seething wrath.

of course my theory is discounted because this EGO doesn't use Wrath resources.

*(which i am NOT FUCKING ADDING RODION TO I ALREADY HAVE 10 CHARACTERS IN THAT ESSAY MY GOD)

[agent-cupcake]

Flashbang

Chapter 7 - Look Up, Look Up

Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Pairing: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f! Reader

Synopsis: While you're trying and failing to deal with everything that's happened, it becomes increasingly obvious that running away wasn't as simple as you hoped. Captain Buggy takes this personally.

Warnings: Explicit smut, discussions of pregnancy/fertility, dub/noncon, unhealthy relationship

Word Count: 10.8k

Notes: This story is now just full time horny and the mental health of those involved probably won't get much better. See you next Sunday~

“There's something deep inside of me

It lingers and it presses hard

A tidal wave that never catches breath

The end is just the start

And now I don't know what to do”

xxx

Groggy and sore, your head spinning and filled with uncomfortable fog from the drug last night, you stood in the bathroom off Captain Buggy’s cabin, shivering in the thin sheath of a blanket taken from his bed. You had cleaned yourself up as best as you could, but there was nothing to do about the marks littering your skin, the soreness between your legs, or the ugly little bruise on your cheek from where your would-be kidnapper hit you. You washed your face clean of makeup—Buggy’s and yours—leaving you with a pair of splotchy cheeks and a set of unappealing mismatched eyes. One of them was tired, rimmed in red with flakes of mascara clinging to the lashes. The other was… Well, it was what it was.

Dad told you that you should have been grateful for the injury, that you were lucky to be alive at all. Being mildly deformed was nothing compared to what might have happened if you were nearer to the explosion. But your luck was a scar that started about an inch above your left eyebrow and ended two or so inches below the eye. That had been a nasty gash on its own, but there was also the burn. Covering the top of your cheekbone up to right beneath your brow, the skin crackled in shades of sickly burgundy, damaged enough that only part of your eyebrow grew, very few lashes clinging to the ruined lids. The burn as well as the stitches dad had put into your eyelid limited your ability to close the eye, leaving the milky film of your cornea exposed. 

It wasn’t without reason that you were called a freak. People saw your eye and winced with phantom pain, thinking how grateful they were that it wasn’t their face that had been ruined. They had sympathy and pity, sure, but you understood the underlying emotions were relief and discomfort. Even dad insisted you cover your eye; he couldn’t stand looking at it. Nobody could.

Except for Buggy, but thinking about him didn’t do anything to help your miserable ruminations.  

Bracing one hand on the sink, your heavy head swung down and you stared at the faded porcelain instead. Last night, you vomited and screamed and cried and cried and cried, the grief and pain and self loathing and fear so strong that emotion threatened to overcome you like a tidal wave. Now, the tears didn’t come. You weren’t some sort of victim in all of this, you had to face the facts. 

Fact: Dad was still trying to get you back and the only way you could think to explain how he was doing that was to admit you lied to Captain Buggy. Fact: You were never never going to be free of him, not really. Fact: Last night you got high and threw yourself at the captain, and now you were the whore everybody thought you were. 

God. 

You peeked up at your face in the mirror, searching for the missing part of yourself that physically represented your virtue. That’s what people said. You lost your virginity. You were different now. You felt different, but you didn’t know what you were looking for. Or, rather, what you weren’t looking for. That made no sense, did it? 

Disgusted by your nudity beneath the blanket, you left the bathroom. Moving made you realize how heavy your head felt, how foggy. There was a pinched, sour feeling in your throat, like when you got sick. By now, sunshine formed a bright frame around the blinds covering his windows, but his room was freezing. 

Shivering, you looked around for your clothes, spotting your shorts and jacket on the floor. You had a feeling your shirt was tangled up somewhere amidst Buggy’s bedding. That was a bit of a problem considering Captain Buggy was also tangled up in the bedding. You didn’t want to wake him up. You weren’t sure you could handle facing him right then.

While you were deliberating what to do, cold and confused and miserable, Buggy opened one eye to give you a disgruntled look. “What’re you doing?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep. You hadn’t taken off his makeup last night, adding to his groggy, unkempt demeanor. 

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, unable to look him in the face. “I’m sorry, Captain Buggy. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

He groaned, blinking over and over again in an attempt to orient himself. “Shit. You kept me up too late.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Buggy sighed, opening his eyes all the way to look you up and down. You didn’t see him detach his hand, although you spotted his little smile a second before the blanket was torn out of your hands, leaving you naked. You squealed in surprise, nearly falling over as you tried to cover yourself, prickling chills covering every inch of your skin.

He laughed, reattaching his hand and using it to prop up his head. “You know, if this was how you woke me up every morning, I might be more of an early riser.” 

“Cap-tain, it’sss c-cold,” you said, shivering hard enough to distort your voice. 

“Then get back in bed,” he said.

You frowned, hesitating. “I-I was going to-to go geh-get breakfast.”

Buggy groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Aren’t we past this whole,” he gestured vaguely to you, “coy… schtick? Cut the bullshit and come here, it’s fuckin’ freezing.”

He was right about that at least. Although your hesitation held for a second more, the cold and unsteady dizziness was too potent for you to think of any argument, timidly approaching the bed with an awkward hunch to try and cover your nudity. Buggy obliged with a self-satisfied smile, raising the edge of the blanket for you to slip under the covers and rolling onto his back to make room. There was no graceful way you could think of to join him, but Buggy didn’t let you waste time trying to figure out a natural way to huddle beneath the blanket, pulling you against him regardless of your intentions to keep some space between you. Laying on your side, your head resting against his chest, allowed you some modesty, but every place where your bare flesh met his seared, practically sizzling. 

“Shit,” Buggy exclaimed, “you’re like a little ice cube.” 

“I’m always cold,” you muttered, trying not to shiver at the feeling of his warm hands smoothing over your chills. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Buggy said with a little laugh. “The first night when you slept in here, you were like a little heat vampire. I couldn’t keep you off of me.”

“Really?” you asked, taken aback. “I don’t… don’t really remember.” 

“Of course you don’t, you were completely shitfaced. It was hilarious. Who’d’ve thunk that somebody so repressed and stiff would be such a horny drunk? You are so lucky I’m not some weirdo pervert who’d take advantage of a girl in such a precarious position.” He hesitated before adding, “Well, there was that one thing, but it’s not a big deal, especially now that I know you wanted it anyway.”

“What?”

“Before you get all upset, I didn’t actually touch you. I mean, I had to a little to get you in here and then to get you to settle down, but it wasn’t weird,” Buggy explained. “Trust me, you were begging for a lot more than what I was comfortable with. But then I needed to let out a little steam after all of your teasing, and, hey, if just looking at somebody was a crime, you would be the one with a massive bounty, not me. I bet you masturbate thinking about me every night after you leave.”

“I don’t,” you said, frowning. “I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” Buggy said dryly, rolling his eyes. “Innocent little virgin. I bet you don’t know how to make yourself come.”

“I-I…” You forced yourself to not get tripped up by the heat of embarrassment, letting out a big breath. “It’s fine. Just… Did I do anything else that night?” 

“Nah, you passed out pretty quick.” 

“Do you know what I did with my dress? I’ve never been able to find it.”

“Dress?” Buggy repeated, his eyebrows furrowing. Realization hit him a moment later. “Oh! Yeah, right. To be clear, you wanted to take it off. It was ruined anyway ‘cause of the blood so I didn’t think it was a big deal if I used it to clean things up after. Barely any of it got on you anyway, but then I started to get a little worried you’d be embarrassed about what happened, especially if you couldn’t remember anything, so I ditched it out the window.” 

“Oh,” you said stupidly, your skin crawling. “I… Um…” You cleared your throat, hiding your face with your cheek against his chest, trying to stifle the discomfort you felt. 

It didn’t matter, it wasn’t as if you could remember, and you believed him when he said he didn’t do anything else. But it meant that you had instigated a sexual dynamic at the start. Compared to what you did willingly, knowingly, you didn’t think you could reasonably be upset, but the idea that anything like that happened when you couldn’t remember was still unsettling.

“I’m sorry I… For acting that way,” you finally said, looking up at him. 

“Don’t worry about it, babydoll. I’m not mad or anything. I guess I got a little irritated that you were being such a tease after showing me how you really felt that first night, but it worked out just fine, huh?” His eyes dragged down, lingering on the bite marks he’d left on your neck. He licked his lips. “Hey, come up here.” 

“What?” you asked. 

He huffed. “What do you mean ‘what’? Get up here,” Buggy said as he sat up, grabbing your waist to haul you up to him regardless of your nervous squirming. You choked out an objection when he wrapped his lips around your nipple, but that shuddered out into a breathy sigh. His mouth was warm and soft, a contrast to the rough sandpaper of his stubble. The sensation of his nose against your skin was odd, maybe because even still you didn’t expect the texture to be so human. 

You didn’t want to respond to his touch, you didn’t want to enjoy being touched—you weren’t allowed to enjoy that—but it was like trying not to feel pain. You were utterly unable to ignore the pleasure that made your sore pussy tighten anxiously, the muscles aching for more than one reason. When he bit you, gently, just enough for the threat of pain, you didn’t mean to whimper, but you did. Your body hadn’t recovered from whatever you took last night, still caught in the haze of that spinning sense of need and languid acceptance of his touch. 

Buggy pulled away with a wet pop, pushing you down onto the bed so he could lean over you and do the same thing to your other nipple, scattering all your thoughts of protest or nerves for what he intended because of how electrifyingly good it felt. 

Using that distraction, his hand delved between your legs, two fingers pushing between your folds to curl against your entrance. The surprising sensation—was it pleasure? You couldn’t tell, it was too sensitive, too raw, too sore—made your back arch up dramatically, Buggy had to release your nipple and sit up. 

“Fuck, babydoll,” Buggy said breathlessly, casually pulling his fingers up to rub against your clit. They slid easily over the sensitive flesh, coated in your own slick arousal. “Now you’ve got me all wound up.” You tried to squeeze your legs shut around his hand. All it did was trap him in place, casually rubbing against your clit in a way that had your hips jumping in spite of yourself.  

“I’m sorry,” you said hoarsely. 

“You should be. I won’t be able to get any work done today if I don’t take care of this now.”

“What d’you mean?” you asked, although you felt like you knew. 

Buggy pulled his hand out from between your legs, grabbing your wrist and dragging it beneath the blankets. You knew what he was doing, although you still felt an odd zing of surprise when he put your hand around his cock. His breath was hot on your ear when he let out a shaky groan, his hips shifting impatiently, pushing into your touch. Knowing that it had been inside of you was almost surreal. Somehow, it felt harder than you might have expected. Warmer too.

He closed your fingers around his cock before his hand pushed back between your legs, two fingers sliding knuckle deep into your pussy. Buggy ate your little whine, pulling you into a kiss that was all hot breath and tongue and distraction while his fingers pressed a little deeper, his hips pushing his dick into your hand for more friction. It surprised you to feel his cock twitch in your hand, it made your breath catch. Dread, of all things, crawled up your throat like acid. There was a raw ache inside of you, an uncomfortable and unnatural pinch when your pussy unconsciously squeezed his fingers.   

“Captain Buggy,” you said, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. “I’m… I’m really sore.”

“You’re really wet,” he said, chasing your lips with his own, drawing you into another kiss.

To prove his point, his fingers pressed deeper into your cunt, hooking and rubbing at your fluttery walls and you couldn’t help but writhe against him, pulling back with a whimper. “Please, Captain Buggy, I…” 

He groaned, leaning back. “Do you ever stop whining? It’s not like you have to do anything. Just lay down, hold on, and let Captain Buggy take care of you like I always do.”

Your heart sank. It wasn’t like you were whining for no reason, you were sore, surely he could understand that? Or be sympathetic to it? You wanted to try and explain, but the words weren’t there in your cloudy, dizzy head, at least not in any sensical arrangement. You couldn’t think hardly at all underneath the spotlight of his eyes.   

“I’m sorry,” you told him, your stomach twisting into knots. “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

Buggy looked at your pouty lower lip, his gaze rising to meet your wet eye, and his expression softened. “Aw, babydoll. It won’t hurt if you just relax a little,” he told you as he sat up, tossing away the blankets and raising your leg to duck underneath it. “You really gotta trust me about this shit. Unlike you, I know what I’m doing. Besides, I got you through your maiden voyage, didn’t I?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, not registering his playful tone until after your automatic response.

Last night, you had been completely under the influence during this part, but now you were stiff and overly aware of your breathing, of the crawling discomfort of being exposed, of what your body might have looked like to him. The surreal rush was no less intense, but now it was chased by the harsh bite of reality.  

You expected him to immediately start lining up his cock, but instead Buggy grabbed your legs and pushed them all the way to your chest, forcing your back to curl. You saw him gather the saliva in his mouth, but it wasn’t until he spat directly onto your pussy that you understood why. You winced with a disgusted sort of humiliation, trying to wriggle away when he pushed the saliva directly into you with two fingers, mixing it with your own arousal.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, your face hot.

Buggy lowered your legs, smirking instead of answering. You covered your flushing cheeks with both hands to hide your embarrassment. At least Buggy didn’t draw out your humiliation, pulling you down to line up the head of his dick with your pussy. You gasped at the feeling, bracing yourself before trying to relax, fighting your body’s instinct to protect itself. 

It took a few targeted thrusts to make it catch, and then some effort to force the head past the initial resistance, but as soon as the head popped in, he groaned, practically falling on top of you. “God, you’re tight. Frankly, it’s a little shocking I can get it in at all,” Buggy said in a strained voice, slowly pushing his cock into you with shallow, rocking thrusts. 

You were glad he pressed his face into the pillow rather than look at you because it did hurt, even if he rolled his hips in little bursts, slowly easing you into it. You made a little sound in the back of your throat, pulling your legs up to make it easier, trying to relax. Buggy’s breath hitched as he pulled out, and then back in. Slow and gentle.

There was still the part of your mind that wanted to play the martyr. To shut it all out, to take no pleasure in what you knew was wrong. The lapping tide of intoxication threatened to pull you back under into the heavy waves of misty bliss, your body too worn out and mind too frayed to properly fight your reaction. And if you weren’t turned on by the physical stimulation of his cock grinding into you, entering in a way that made your hips jump and pussy spasm around him, then it would be because of the feeling of Buggy’s body above yours. The way the muscles of his back worked and moved with each thrust, the sounds he made. His sounds of pleasure—pleasure because of you. 

Even if it hurt and it was wrong and even if you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t help but feel the tightening in your core, the trembling sort of heat that made you writhe beneath him, your hips restlessly tilting to meet each lazy, shallow thrust. 

Until you heard something from the other room. 

You stiffened up, your fingers curling into his shoulders. “Captain, I—I think… I think someone’s knocking,” you said. 

“Ignore it,” Buggy told you, his voice labored. 

But the knocking didn’t stop, and then you heard the door open. “Captain Buggy?” Cabaji called into the room. “Are you awake?” 

You tensed up at that interruption, your cunt unintentionally squeezing his cock. In response, Buggy’s fingers dug painfully into your thigh, his groan muffled into the pillow. You pushed at him, panicking, but he didn’t budge. Finally, he lifted his head and braced himself on his elbow, looking annoyed. 

“What do you want?” Buggy shouted, his grip on you just as tight, his cock remaining halfway inside of you.

“Mohji took command of the other ship, but it’s damaged.” Footsteps from the other room made you think Cabaji was coming closer, and you pushed more insistently at Buggy, disgusted fear of being seen like this seizing your chest. “He’s taking it to the nearest island, should we follow?” 

You tried again to push him off, unable to stand the constant pressure, the way your pussy kept spasming and squeezing him. Buggy made a sound of irritation, pinning you in place with a harsh thrust that buried his cock deep enough for his skin to slap against your own, eliciting a shrill yelp you didn’t muffle in time. The footsteps stopped. There was absolutely no way to misinterpret what just happened, but you didn’t care as much compared to the discomfort, to the weight of him inside of you.

“I need to finish this up first,” Buggy said, his voice hoarse with strain. “Get my breakfast, I’ll meet you up there…” He looked down at you, licking his lips. “As soon as I’m done.” 

“Yes, of course, sir,” Cabaji said, quickly retreating. 

The second the door closed, Buggy was laughing. “You did all this whining about how you’re sore, but got too impatient to even wait for Cabaji to leave.”

“That was you!”  

“Nuh-uh, that was aaaall your fault,” Buggy said, rolling his hips experimentally. Your body jerked anxiously, your pussy spasming around his dick. The raw ripping sort of sensation wasn’t made better by the fresh wave of arousal that smoothed out his movements. “Don’t get too upset, the sound you made was so squeaky and pathetic he might have mistaken it for something else.”

You whined helplessly, your back arching and nails digging into his shoulders. 

“That’s exactly my point. Squeaky hinges, rats in the walls… Ship stuff,” Buggy said, the last word coming out with a heavy grunt as he dragged you back into place, his hips meeting you halfway so he could slam his cock into you. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, but all that did was make Buggy moan. 

“Captain Buggy, please, it hurts.”

“If you hadn’t wasted so much time earlier complaining, we’d already be done,” he told you. “Just hold on, honeybuns. I’ll make it up to you later.” 

Nothing. And then awareness. And then confusion as a million memories played out all at once, none of them quite right, none of them truly belonging to you. But the state of unconsciousness was familiar in its own way, recognition of its daze independent of your own understanding. That is to say that, at this point, you were familiar with what it felt like to wake up after passing out, unpleasant as it was.

“Don’t panic,” somebody said, the words slowly filtering through your brain until you could comprehend them, reality slotting into place. “You fainted, but you’re alright.”

Your eye fluttered open, slowly focusing on the face above you. 

“Crina?” 

“Good morning,” she said with a wry smile. 

You grunted, getting your elbows beneath yourself to sit up. It wasn’t surprising to realize that you were in her clinic. The smell would have given it away, followed up directly by the uncomfortable surface of the table bed you were laying on. 

“Do you remember what happened?” she asked.

Groaning, you laid back down. “I was…” You rubbed your eye, trying to shake your head clear of the fog. 

“You collapsed in the passageway,” she prompted. “You were nearly trampled.” 

That’s right, you had been looking for a quiet place to be alone because you were very upset. Very, very upset. After everything, every little awful thing, it was the realization that Pippa had left with the other ship that set you off fully. Already you could feel the rising tide of breathless despair as it all hit you again. 

“Rest,” Crina told you. 

“I’m okay,” you said, gritting your teeth and getting an arm beneath yourself. Moving immediately disproved your reassurance, the painful spinning of your head nearly knocking you right back down. Soreness throbbed between your legs, like you’d pulled a muscle you weren’t even aware of. The drug from last night lingered like smoke in your thoughts. In addition to the bruise on your cheek, your spine ached in several places from hitting the deck when the man dropped you. Separately, any one of those things would have left you weak. It was no wonder you fainted. “I just got really dizzy and…” You shook your head, although that did nothing to dislodge the cottony confusion that laid behind your temple, or to pierce the bubble of tumultuous emotion swelling in your chest. “I’m fine.”

“Did you drink last night?” 

“No, no I…” You breathed in, trying to sort your thoughts. “I was, um, upset and so Captain Buggy gave me… I think it-it was an opiate, like my dad used to give me. Just so I could calm down. He was helping me, and I wanted it, but today it feels like… Like having a hangover, but heavier. I didn’t sleep much either, so that’s probably why I… I’m tired is all.”

“This should still help,” Crina told you, holding out a cup of water. 

You eyed it warily, your stomach churning at the idea of accepting anything. “No, thank you.” 

Her lips pursed, but she set it aside, returning to her workbench. Various vials and herbs littered the surface. It looked like she was preparing something that smelled very strongly of antiseptic, but also other things. Crina’s medicine was never as astringently assaulting as the types your dad used. The water she had boiling—boiling bandages, perhaps?—had a comfortable sound, warming the room. 

“What are you doing?” you asked her, grasping for something to ground yourself.

“My job,” she responded wryly. “Pirates fight recklessly, even an overwhelming victory means wounds to tend.” 

You nodded.

“My first medical training was as a midwife,” Crina suddenly said, grabbing a fresh cutting board and quickly chopping up what you recognized as ginger. “My mother taught me, and her mother taught her. I helped deliver several babies before I was old enough to conceive one myself.” 

In so many ways, Crina was an enigma to you. Hearing her volunteer personal information so randomly, so abruptly caught you off guard. “A hospital hired you when you were a kid?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. 

“No hospital,” she said with a trace of amusement at the idea, setting aside the knife and sweeping the chopped spice into a kettle which quickly replaced the pot on the stove. “Our community was small and poor. Even if we could afford doctors, we couldn’t trust strangers to safely care for our mothers, daughters, and sisters—and we certainly couldn’t trust them with our babies.” 

“Why did you become a pirate?”

“I had few other options,” Crina said, crushing up an herb in a mortar and pestle. “I left my village and sought education as a surgeon when I was old enough to do so, but the medical community thought I was… difficult, to say the least.” She smiled to herself. “It was a mutual feeling. So stuck on the rigid path of modernity that they reject anything they deem to be outdated. I left school with the proper training and debt, but none of the credentials.”

“Why didn’t you go back to your village?” 

“There wasn’t much to go back to,” Crina said brusquely. “Poverty is as wicked as any plague.”

“I’m so sorry,” you told her. 

“I do not mourn what was, I can only be grateful for what I was given,” Crina said, washing the herbs with a liquid to continue mixing. By now, the smell of ginger was getting quite strong. Warm and spicy and alluring. “I believe my upbringing is why I can handle the brutality of this position better than most. I’ve known many men who will readily amputate a crushed limb or set a bone that has broken skin, but balk at the miracle of childbirth. So eager to impregnate, but unable to face the consequences. To them, a woman’s health is unsympathetic. They will never experience the things we must, so they do not care.”

“That’s not true,” you said. 

“Really? You more than anyone should know the truth of it. Your father was not interested in your health, only your dependence. Captain Buggy is not interested in your health, only your service.” Crina looked at you, her smokey dark eyes cutting past any defenses you might have been able to put up. “Can you deny that?”

“I…” You were saved from answering by the squealing kettle, your body jumping in panic at the sudden noise. 

Crina took the kettle off the heat, leaving it to sit. “Women must look out for one another. I think, so far, you’ve taken my questions as accusations and mistrust my aid for fear of mistreatment, but I do want to help you. If not for personal reasons, then because I would risk Captain Buggy’s ire if I were to allow anything to happen to you for my negligence. Do you understand?” 

You swallowed hard, nodding. 

“We need to talk about what happened last night.”

“Nothing,” you answered quickly, bristling. “Nothing happened.”

“I’ve been honest with you, I would appreciate it if you didn’t insult me by lying,” Crina said. 

You met her eye, guilt swelling in your chest. “Captain Buggy and I… We… We slept together.”

“Did he force you to have sex with him?”

“No! Captain Buggy would never, ever do that,” you told her quickly, shocked by the question. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, he wouldn’t.” You looked down, biting your lip. “It-it’s normal to be sore after, isn’t it?” 

Crina pursed her lips. “Did you notice any blood?”  

Last night—and even in the morning—you hadn’t been aware of any blood. Everything was so coated with other bodily fluids that you wouldn’t have noticed. But earlier, when you were changing your clothes, you dropped your shorts and saw the mess of cum that had slowly oozed out of you after you left Captain Buggy’s cabin. It wasn’t the normal milky color, but a sickly pink. Dyed by your blood. Since the color was so mild, you didn’t think it was a lot of blood, but the quantity didn’t matter. Pure, clean girls didn’t bleed. And there you stood with a man’s cum and your own blood staining your panties, the reality of what you had done setting in fully.

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice choked.

“Was there enough to be worrisome? ” 

“No, there wasn’t that much.” But the amount didn’t matter. Pure, clean girls didn’t bleed.   

“What was happening before you fainted?” 

“I-I started to—to… I couldn’t breathe,” you said haltingly. “It’s hard to think and my head aches and I’m… tired.” 

Ruined, you were ruined. And although everybody was too busy to pay you any mind today—the ship was a flurry of activity after the raid—they would all know soon enough. It was easier to bear the whispers about you and Captain Buggy when you knew it was untrue, but now it wasn’t. Now you were exactly what they said you were. Then you had to think about what happened last night with the man, and your dad, and the entire mess only got worse. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, speaking softly to keep your voice from cracking. 

“Right now, you’re going to drink this,” Crina said. She poured two cups of ginger tea, filling the room with its spicy scent. She added a spoonful of powder and forced the cup into your hand. “It will help.” 

“What’s in it?” you asked weakly.

“Ginger, turmeric, and something to help your head.” 

The steam washed over your face, and that alone was a comfort. Although it was hot, you took a sip. And another. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I-I just… I didn’t think,” you told her after a bit, your voice weak. “I don’t get why…”

Your statement was met with a solid block of silence. For a moment, you thought that she wouldn’t say anything at all. “Think about your situation,” Crina told you. “You have few skills, very little practical value to him other than what could be provided by any other member of the crew. You are here because Captain Buggy enjoys having a toy to play with. Do you think it’s a coincidence that he never uses your name? That he calls you his babydoll?” 

“He never said anything about…about any of that,” you argued. “I thought he wanted me to-to be like… like I was for-” You cut yourself off before finishing that thought. Saying it out loud now, after everything, made a plethora of disturbing implications, but it was the innocent truth, and something to cling to now that your ignorance had come back around to bite you. 

“Your father?” Crina finished for you. “Is that how you see the captain?” 

You wondered what she was thinking, what conclusions she might draw, but you were too afraid to look up and check her expression. You sniffled, taking another drink. The hot spicy mixture of flavors was a balm to your sour, cold insides. If only your mind was as easy to placate.

“I’m going to have to insist on a comprehensive physical exam,” Crina told you. “I need to know if he hurt you more than you’re letting on, and how your father interrupted your menstrual cycle. The methods of preventing it can significantly interfere with your sexual health.”

For a long time, you didn’t say anything. You knew what she meant, and your insides cringed at the very idea, but you didn’t see a way out of it either. Looking up at Crina, she met your eye openly. Stern, a little intimidating, but not cruel. There were so many reasons you were going to hate yourself anyway, what did this matter?

“Okay.”

The ship was the busiest you had ever seen. Most of the loot had been left on the other ship for Mohji to take it to the nearest island to sell, but there was enough left that needed to be cataloged, organized, cleaned, and repaired. Nobody was looking at you. You told yourself that over and over and over again as you looked for Captain Buggy. 

Although Pippa was gone, she’d given you enough to piece together an outfit without her assistance, and Crina had helped you style your hair after she finished her examination. She said that it would help. That it would feel better if you acted like nothing had changed. That you didn’t need to make a big deal out of it. The flowy dress didn’t help you feel much better. Of the things Pippa had lent you, it covered the most skin, but you couldn’t help but cringe at the excessively girlish frills and flow of the fabric as the breeze caught the hems, exposing the bloomers you wore underneath. 

“Hey there, girly,” somebody called, his voice raised above the wind. You squinted at the speaker, your shoulders untensing when you saw it was Marty. You trotted over to him, relieved to see a friendly face.

“I was worried you’d gone with Pippa,” you said. 

He shot you a smile, finishing tying the knot and moving the secure the next. “Nah, Captain Buggy can’t spare me.”

“What are you doing?” 

“Getting a boat ready. The captain mentioned sending a pair of guys to town. Guess there were some things Mr. Mohji forgot.” 

“Oh,” you hesitated, crossing one foot in front of the other. “Um… Marty?”

“Hm?” 

“I think I lost the knife you gave me last night. I’m so sorry.” 

“Did’ya stick someone with it?” 

“I… yes.” 

“Then I don’t want none of your ‘sorrys.’ There are plenty more knives in the world.” 

“Then, um… Thank you.”

“That’ll do,” he allowed, finishing the knot. “Oh, Captain Buggy’s at the helm, if you were lookin’ for him.”

“Thank you,” you said. “Thank you, Marty.” 

He grinned, touching two fingers to his brow in a jaunty send-off. 

You turned towards the quarterdeck, weaving your way around the chaotic crowd.

Buggy stood on the uppermost deck at the helm alongside the helmsman, issuing instructions in his usual manner. He wasn’t wearing his hat or jacket and opted to merely touch up yesterday's makeup rather than redo it entirely.

“Captain Buggy!” you called, but he didn’t hear you. Unsure of how else to get his attention, you ascended the stairs. 

Buggy happened glance in your direction, doing a double take. “What are you doing?” he barked.

“I just, um, I… I was wondering if you were going to break for lunch.” 

“What?” he asked, his face scrunching.

“I was wondering if you were going to take a break,” you repeated, raising your voice. He seemed to hear you this time, walking around the helmsman to approach. There was no shame to the way he looked you up and down. It felt hungrier than usual, or maybe that was just your discomfort.

“That’s cute,” Buggy told you, grabbing the skirt and pulling you closer. “Though I’m not sure white’s your color anymore.” 

Your heart dropped. “Yeah, I-I guess not,” you muttered.

“So what was this about a break? I’m awful busy, kiddo. Some of us have real jobs to do.”

“It’s lunchtime, Captain Buggy.”

“Really?” Buggy asked, raising his eyebrows in shock. “Okay, fine. Take it to my office and wait for me.” 

“Yes, sir.”

He turned away to issue orders to the helmsman, and you retraced your steps to go down to the galley. The soreness between your legs wasn’t as noticeable, but you could still sense it. A weight, an understanding. You knew now what it was like to have something inside of you. Fullness, and absence. 

The trip up from the kitchen was uneventful. You were getting used to navigating the ship. Everybody was busy, far too busy to bother with you.  

Buggy was not in his office when you set up his lunch. You didn’t dare eat without him, so you sat in your chair and folded your hands in your lap and waited.

You stared at the off-white fabric of your dress, rubbing it with your thumb. It reminded you of something you had nearly forgotten—a doll you once had. Her frilly pinafore was made of the same type of fabric. You could remember her perfect round cheeks, her bow-like mouth, and those beautiful, round blue glass eyes. She only had one pink dress, but three pinafores and two pairs of shoes. 

Crina said that the sex hadn’t hurt you, that it wasn’t uncommon for there to be some blood. She said that you weren’t fertile right now. She said that, based on her experience with women like you, even if you did become pregnant one day, you likely would not carry a healthy child to term. 

The doll’s name had been something silly. You couldn’t remember it. Blossom? Rose? Even though she was a baby, you always called her sister. Your little baby sister. In hindsight, maybe you already understood that you weren’t the motherly type.  

Having a child wasn’t a reality you’d ever seriously considered. When you thought of your own mother, you thought of her sitting at the window. Always turned away, always so sad, so sharp. You understood, although you hadn’t when you were a child, that she was an unhappy woman. Hysteria was one of the few things the two of you had in common. Such was the magnitude of her pain that it outlived her—it echoed within you, within her memory. And when you thought about that, it was hard to blame her. It was hard to feel anything other than grief. There were moments, little treasures you kept buried deep within yourself. Even as a young child, you had been sickly. If there was any sort of illness to be caught, you would be the one to catch it. You remembered a long, cold night all alone in your room. It was a cough. The thick, broken glass type that had you hacking up globs of blood and yellow phlegm. And then mom was there. She emerged from the dark like a beautiful angel, petting your sweaty hair and spooning medicine into your mouth and singing a lullaby. 

Had the doll been named Cherry? You couldn’t remember what became of her. In all likelihood, she was one of the many girlish things you gave up when dad began taking you along on his ship.

“There was a girl most fair whom I happened to meet

Late in my room one night trading tricks for a treat   

I almost turned down this girl so sweet 

Because, as you see, she was quite petite-”

The door into Buggy’s office opened behind you, his raucous singing getting louder. You were only half listening, coming out of your daze as if waking up. 

“Even with some spit                                

I worried that something might split

But it turned out to be a perfect fit—

“Oh, hey there, babydoll,” Buggy said as he passed you to sit down. “What’dya think of my new song?”

You blinked, sitting up and focusing on him. “It was good, Captain Buggy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, dropping into his chair. “Sing it back to me then.” You frowned, realizing he was calling your bluff. Buggy sighed dramatically. “You really need to get better at the whole listening thing.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I guess I got a little lost in thought.”

He pulled the lid off his tray to immediately start eating. “What were you thinkin’ about?” 

“I was… Um… Nothing important, sir,” you said. Although you weren’t very hungry—your stomach lingered on the verge of unsettled and outright angry—you started eating too. 

“It’s embarrassing, isn’t it,” Buggy said with a lopsided smile, an interesting expression when his cheeks were stuffed full. 

“No! Not… not really.”

“There’s no point in hiding it,” Buggy said. “There’s nothing I didn’t see last night.”

“It’s not like that,” you insisted, flushing hotly. “But it is silly, I was just thinking about stuff from when I was a kid.” You shrugged, shoving a spoonful of stew into your mouth.

Buggy pulled a face. “Why?” 

“I don’t know, I just remembered something.” 

You could read the disinterest on his face, so you dropped it, focusing on eating. You had to force yourself, methodically taking bites while you contemplated how you were going to tell him about last night, and how you would answer his questions. It was inevitable that you would have to reveal how you lied to him, and the thought alone was enough to make you queasy, your hands shaking and slick with a cold sweat. 

“Captain Buggy? I was wondering if-if we could talk?” you said when he was more or less finished. Almost immediately, you regretted speaking, backing down. “But, um, I know you’re busy today so if you can’t spare the time right now, that’s fine, I just-”

“Spit it out,” Buggy said impatiently, cutting you off. 

You looked up and met his eye and felt all of your fragile confidence shatter. 

“Why do you never use my name?” you asked instead. “My-my real name, I mean.” 

“Your real name?” Buggy repeated. “You mean the name your shitstain of a dad gave you?” He let that incredulous question linger as if baiting you to say yes. Eventually, you nodded timidly. “That’s not you. That’s the girl you used to be. She was pathetic and sad. I don’t want her.” His eyes tracked you up and down, softening his expression. “I want my babydoll. Besides, it suits you way better.” He considered that for a second. “Maybe that should be your thing—an animated doll who desperately longs to be a real girl.” 

“If that’s what you… what you think is best,” you said, the words somewhat distant. You weren’t sure what to think, how to feel about his explanation. 

“Come over here,” Buggy said after a moment, pushing out from his desk and motioning you towards him. You looked up, the question ‘why’ already formed on your lips, but that was the wrong response.  

So you dutifully stood up, smoothed your skirt, and circled his desk. It seemed so impossible that you had been in the same position yesterday, only twenty-four hours ago. Everything was different then, the entire world centered upon a different axis. 

Buggy grabbed your hips, tugging you closer. “Are you still sore?” he asked, smirking. 

“A little,” you said, squeezing your thighs together. “Crina said that’s not-not unusual.” 

“‘Cause you were a virgin?”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his eye. “Captain Buggy, this is… really embarrassing.” 

“Or is it ‘cause you’re so small? That’d explain a lot. I’m still shocked I got it in.” His hand left your hip to press against your abdomen instead, dragging down. 

Your insides clenched hard in response, reminding you of the sharp ache and making you gasp. Buggy obviously caught the noise, his eyes flicking back up to your face.

“Shit, that’s hot.” 

You froze. “Sir?” 

“You’re wearing shorts?” Buggy asked. He didn’t wait for your response, lifting up your skirt to see the bloomers beneath. The sight of them made him scowl, immediately tugging them down to reveal your significantly less cute underwear. He didn’t seem to care, shoving the bloomers down to your ankles while you squirmed, wanting to push him away but knowing you couldn’t. 

“Sheesh, calm down,” he told you, letting your skirt fall. “I’m trying to help you out a little.”

“You don’t have to,” you said. “You’re busy and I-I wouldn’t want to, um...” 

“It’s not like it’s gonna take very long,” Buggy said. He leaned back into his chair, using his grip on your hips to turn you around and sit you on his lap. You nearly fell over, your ankles tangled in the bloomers. “I bet I can get you off over your panties.”  

“You really… You don’t have to,” you said again. Your breathing came out unsteadily and you couldn’t stop squirming around, unable to get comfortable.

“Pay attention, Professor Buggy’s gonna teach you how to make yourself come,” he said, looking at you over your shoulder, his nose brushing your cheek when he turned his head. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you didn’t want to look down at his hands, so you just squeezed your eye shut. 

“Captain Buggy, I… I don’t need to know… I’m fine.”

“Your fingers are way too small to fuck yourself with, but that’s okay,” Buggy said, tightening his hold around your waist, keeping you in place while his other hand crawled beneath your dress, the fabric of his gloves rough against your skin. When you tried to press your thighs together to stop him, Buggy hooked your ankles with his own, prying your legs open. He laughed at your helpless whimper.

When his hand reached your clothed pussy, you jolted with the little strike of electricity. The way your inner walls squeezed around nothing hurt, but there was more to the feeling. You wanted to hide, to escape, but there was nowhere to go. 

“You know, it’s weird,” Buggy said, sliding his gloved fingers up and down, pushing the fabric of your panties between your folds, pushing his way in between to focus on your clit, “usually I wouldn’t go for this sort of thing, but the way you react is so funny. Most people have an instinctive take on how they’re supposed to act, but here you are. Somebody’d think I was torturing you even though it’s obvious you fuckin’ love it. You know what it reeks of, sweetheart? Other than fish, I mean.” 

You weren’t sure if he was looking for an answer or not, but even if you had one, it would have fled your mind the second he began to put more pressure against your clit. Blood rushed between your legs and the more your clit swelled beneath his touch, the more targeted he was.

“Damage,” Buggy supplied for you. “A whole lot of it.”

“Captain Buggy, please,” you begged. You didn’t know what you were asking for, just that those were the only words you could think to say when he had your body immobilized, when you couldn’t stop your hips from tilting up for him, your hands seeking purchase in the fabric of your skirt as the only anchor. 

“You’re so pathetic.” When Buggy pulled his hand out from between your legs, you mourned the loss, letting out a broken whimper. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I wouldn’t leave you hanging before the finale,” he reassured you, his voice dripping condescension. 

You opened your eye just in time to watch him spit onto his fingers, leaning forward a bit so he could wipe it on your panties—directly above your clit. Your groan of disgust became a helpless moan as he rubbed it in. The wetness added just the right amount of give to the friction, you could feel your thighs tremble, your entire body surging up into the pleasure.  

“‘m ss-sorry,” you said, embarrassed by your reaction. He needed to stop, you could only imagine how stupid you looked, writhing on his lap. But you couldn’t help it, not when he was touching you like this. 

“You are sorry,” Buggy told you, his voice a little lower, a little huskier. “What kind of girl gets off on this shit? It’s like you’re a masochist but backwards. The better it feels, the more you act like it hurts. I swear, honey buns, you’re a brand new type of freak.” 

“No, Captain Buggy,” you said, your voice mostly just breath. “That’s not… I’m not like… Please, it’s… I’m… pleasepleaseplease—I-I-” And then you couldn’t speak anymore, that required too much brain power, the only thing you could do was strain towards your approaching orgasm, towards the heat building in your core, that forbidden and intoxicating wind of tension.  

“Come on,” he urged. His stubble scraped against your cheek, and then your neck when your head fell back against his shoulder. You could smell him. The details changed, but there was the fundamental musky warm smell that you remembered so clearly from the first time he held you and it threaded through your entire body like poison.  

Coming with his fingers slamming into you had been a heavy, wet feeling. Something snapping, breaking, a little flood of heat that rushed through your body in waves. This was a dry spark, a flash and fizzle. You yelped abruptly, your body jerking forward, kept in place only by the iron bar of his arm across your waist. And then it diffused outwards, ending in your fingertips and toes, at the very top of your spine. 

“That was it, wasn’t it?” Buggy asked, his fingers slowing their torturous circles.

You swallowed against your dry throat, nodding, trying to catch your breath. The dizziness from that morning had returned in full force, the world rocked with it. Buggy stopped, pressing his entire palm against the seat of your panties instead, soothing you with the warm, generalized friction. 

“I figured. It’s pretty easy to tell with you. I mean, you’re so goddamn dramatic about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, awkward and spinning and sweaty and disgusted and a million other things that culminated in the bite of tears in the corner of your eye. 

“Aw, are you embarrassed?” Buggy asked, playfully pinching your cheek with the fingers he’d just used to get you off. You frowned, turning your face away so he couldn’t see your expression. 

He huffed, grabbing your chin to force your face towards his. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, you could barely bear to meet his eyes at all. Finally, Buggy released you, pushing you off of his lap. You nearly tripped, steadying yourself on the edge of his desk. 

“Go change your panties,” he said flippantly, waving his hand. “We’ll work on this,” he gestured vaguely to you, “later.” 

You didn’t really know what that meant, but you nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“What are you doing?” 

Those words drew you out of your tired daze. You had been sitting in an out of the way corner in a passageway to the officer’s mess. It was just a small break, you didn’t want to faint again. You blinked your eye clear, shaking your head of the gauze as you looked up at Cabaji. 

“Hm?” 

“What are you doing?” Cabaji asked again. 

“Oh, I… I got a little dizzy so I…” You frowned. “Sorry, I heard the bell, I was about to head up.” 

“The bell?” Cabaji repeated. “That was an hour ago.” 

“Oh.” 

“Captain Buggy needs you.” 

Those words made your heart drop. You had no idea how you had lost so much time, but you doubted Buggy would accept any excuse you could give. Not only that, but the idea of seeing Buggy after what happened at lunch filled you with an absurd amount of anxiety. It wasn’t him, it was you. There had to have been some other way for you to handle it, but instead you played the role of a whore. You were disgusting, and when you thought about it you simply didn’t understand why. The person you thought you were wouldn’t have done anything like that, and yet you did. 

But that was you.

Getting to your feet was a difficult process, especially when you were trying to hide your fatigue and pain from Cabaji. Which was stupid, you weren’t going to fool him. You were glad he didn’t make a point of your weakness by offering you a hand. 

“Where is he?” you asked. 

“I’ll go with you,” Cabaji said. 

“You-you don’t need to.” 

“Come on, Captain Buggy doesn’t like waiting.” 

You hesitated, nervous to be around him, but there was no reason you could think of to reject Cabaji’s company either. Embarrassment about what he may or may not have heard that morning wasn’t his fault. 

As the two of you traversed the narrow passageway to the ladder, you tried to peek at his face and determine what he was thinking. Which was kind of impossible. He let you go up the ladder first, probably because he was worried you would fall, and so you stood there for a moment in the blinding sunlight. Sitting in the dark had done nothing to help you handle the heavy, hangover-like dizziness. 

“Are you okay?” Cabaji asked. You hadn’t realized he was beside you. 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, squinting at him. He nodded. 

“He said to meet him in his office,” he said, motioning for you to go first. You didn’t fall, although you stumbled on the first step to the quarter deck. It was a relief to walk into the shaded map room, even if it rendered you blind all over again. The door into Buggy’s office was open, but the captain wasn’t there.

You didn’t want to think about what happened in the empty chair only hours before, so you focused on your stoic companion. He saved your life last night. He deserved at least a thank you. There wasn’t much else that you could offer him.  

“Cabaji?” you said. 

“Yes?” 

“I wanted to… to thank you.”

“What?” 

“For last night, you...” Taking a heavy breath, you reached out to grab his hand, holding it in both of yours. “Thank you, Cabaji.”

Cabaji looked more than a little bewildered, although not offended. “I was following Captain Buggy’s orders, there’s no need for you to be grateful.” 

“But I am. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, I-” The door opened. Startled, you dropped Cabaji’s hand, taking a step away. 

“There she is!” Buggy called as he stalked in. “Kept me waiting long enough.”

“I’m sorry, Captain Buggy,” you said, bowing your head. “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you could help me understand something,” Buggy said. You could immediately tell by his tone that something was wrong with the situation. All of the sudden, Cabaji’s inclusion felt more confrontational than comforting. 

“Sir?” you asked, tugging down your bandana and trying not to fidget.

“Earlier,” Buggy said, taking slow, measured steps in your direction, “Cabaji was telling me an interesting story. It involved a strange man attempting to make off with a very,” he stopped in front of you, dropping a heavy hand on your shoulder. The cold smile he fixed you with left you without any air in your lungs—you wanted to disappear. “Special member of my crew.” Squeezing your shoulder once, Buggy released you, turning to pace the length of the room. “The thing is, he only knows part of it. I was hoping you could fill in the blanks.”  

“Captain Buggy, I-I was going to tell you,” you said.

“Oh, were you?” Buggy asked, turning around to look at you with round eyes, his expression mockingly curious. “When was that, exactly?” 

“I just…  I didn’t know how to explain it.” 

Buggy wagged his finger at you. “That’s the problem, sweetheart. Truth is self-evident, there shouldn’t be any need for explanation if you’re being honest.” 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” you said, desperate to think of a way to smooth this over. “I just didn’t want you to think-”

“You wanna know what I think?” Buggy asked, cutting you off. “I think you’re hiding something.”

“No, I’m not, I swear,” you told him, clasping your hands together over your chest. “There was a man last night who… He tried to take me, but I managed to escape when he got to the upper deck, and Cabaji killed him.” 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

“My-my dad sent him to get me, that’s what he said,” you told him, the words smearing together from your nerves. “He said he was getting paid for it. He-he thought I was your prisoner.”

Buggy looked at you for a long moment, considering your words. And then he burst out laughing. “That’s what you’re going with?” he asked. “If you’re gonna lie, at least try to make it sound believable.” 

“That’s the truth,” you said, your voice rising into a whine with your desperation to make him believe you.

This time, Buggy didn’t laugh. “You expect me to believe that, by complete coincidence, we happened to attack the one ship that had a man who was hired to rescue you? Do you have any idea how big the East Blue is? No? You’re about to see for yourself when I toss you overboard and sail away.”

“I think it’s the map,” you said, your voice choked. “You’re following the stolen map, aren’t you? My dad was the one who charted the new trade route. That map is his.”

You could tell the exact moment that Buggy understood what you were saying, his gaze agonizingly intense when it fixed on you. “You said that map and the journal belong to a retired Marine.”

You nodded meekly. “That’s m-my dad.”

“So you lied to me. After everything I’ve done for you, you lied to me.” 

“I was scared you wouldn’t take me if you knew my dad was a Marine, and… He has a-a lot of enemies from back then, he was pretty well-known, and so I thought that maybe you’d see me as-as a liability. I was… I was afraid, Captain Buggy. I’m so sorry.” 

“You’re makin’ him sound like a big deal.” 

“He… I mean, he was… People knew who he was.”

Buggy rolled his eyes. “I bet I haven’t even heard of him.” 

“They used to call him the Surgeon.” 

The name caught both men’s attention, you could feel the zip of tension in the air, but neither said anything until, finally, “Bullshit,” Buggy said.  

“It’s the truth. When he retired, he stopped using that name and tried to-to distance himself from it. He said that if people knew, they would hurt me because of him. My mom and me… That happened because so many people hate him. That’s why I-I lied to you, and I’m so sorry. I was scared that if you knew, you wouldn’t let me join your crew.”

Buggy let out a bark-like laugh. “Sweetheart, if I knew you were the Surgeon’s daughter I would have dragged you onto this ship. I’d say you’re worth your weight in gold, but it’s more like double, no, triple that.” He shook his head. “What do you think someone would pay to get their hands on the Surgeon’s pretty little daughter? Shit, what would he pay to get back his daughter and keep his dope operation a secret? That is his, by the way, right?”

“The map and the journal are his, but I never-never knew about that… stuff.”

Buggy accepted that, nodding as he continued to pace. After a painfully long moment, he shook his head. “No, that still doesn’t explain the guy last night.”

“Captain Buggy?” Cabaji cut in.

“What?” 

“It’s possible that the Surgeon sent around a description of the girl to ships in the area. We can assume that he knows we were the ones to take her.”

“You’re saying there’s a merc on every ship in the area looking to rescue a one-eyed midget girl?” Buggy asked incredulously. “No way. How could he possibly know we’d follow his stupid map? Unless…” Buggy looked at you. “Unless his adoring daughter has been reporting back to him.”

“I wouldn’t, Captain Buggy. I-I swore myself to you. Just you.” 

“And assuming he knows we’re in the area,” Buggy continued, ignoring you, “why wouldn’t he call the Marines to rescue his precious princess? This place should be crawling with them.”

“Unless he was hoping to do this quietly,” Cabaji said. “Alerting the Marines would put his criminal endeavors at risk of being discovered.”

Buggy didn’t respond to that, staring hard at Cabaji for a second before returning to pacing. After one agonizingly slow lap, he turned on his heel towards you. “There’s no way you’re the Surgeon’s daughter. I saw the guy a couple of times, he looked like his mom fucked herself with the ugly stick while he was still hanging out in there. You’re…” he gestured to you, shrugging, “I mean, the eye thing aside, you’re cute.”

You shrunk away, looking at the floor. 

Buggy walked to his desk and leaned over it, his hands flat on the surface. For a second, there was quiet, and then he made a sound like a growl. “Get out.” 

“I’m so sorry, Captain Buggy,” you said, bowing your head in contrition before going to follow Cabaji out of his office.

“No, no, no. Not you, princess,” Buggy snapped. 

You stopped, your heart racing frantically as you watched Cabaji shut the door behind himself. 

“What was that with you and Cabaji before?” Buggy asked.

You slowly turned to face him, your apologies and explanations all fizzling out on your tongue at the abrupt lurch of topic. “Uhm… what?” 

“I asked,” Buggy said, speaking slowly, emphatically, “what was that with you and Cabaji when I walked in? It’s pretty shameless of you to throw yourself at him after he heard you moaning this morning. Do you think he’ll buy the whole innocent act if you bat your eyelashes enough? I don’t think it’ll work as good with just one eye.”

“I was thanking him,” you said, your voice faint. The anger Buggy had now was different than before, but you didn’t know how to qualify that. There was a petulant edge to it. Not as incendiary, but far more nasty. “He saved me last night.” 

“Oh, I get it,” Buggy said, nodding with a little smile. “You think he cares about you. That’s cute.” The smile dropped, his eyes cold. He pushed away from his desk to approach you. “Grow up. Cabaji is my subordinate.” He pointed to himself with the word, his voice slowly getting louder. “The only reason he saved you was because I wanted him to. The only person you should be grateful for is me.”

“I am grateful for you, Captain Buggy,” you told him, shying away with each of his heavy steps. Rather than placating Buggy, your words seemed to rile him further. 

“Liar,” he shouted in your face, loud enough to make you flinch back with a whimper, bracing yourself for a blow that didn’t come. “Do you really think that you can make a fool of me? On my ship, in my office. I know there’s something going on with you. You asked him to teach you to fight, and I’ve seen the way you watch his tricks. All wide eyed and ‘oh Cabaji you’re so cool, can you teach me to do that.’”

“I don’t mean it like that,” you insisted. 

“Are you trying to tell me that it's all in my head? Is that it?” 

“No, sir.”

“If anything, you’re the delusional one for thinking he’d actually care about you,” Buggy said, getting in your face to emphasize his point. “I get it now. Pops was right about you being crazy, wasn’t he?”

When you didn’t respond, Buggy shook his head and turned around again, muttering under his breath. The sound was drowned out by the thumping of your heart, the whir of blood rushing through your ears. You wanted to apologize, or argue, or try to defend yourself, or anything, but you didn’t. 

“Okay,” Buggy said after what felt like hours. When he turned around, his expression wasn’t nearly as animated. He pressed his hands together, tapping his index fingers to his lips as he thought. “I’m sending a boat to meet up with Mohji at the nearest island, and you’re,” he pointed at you, “gonna be on it.”

You were already shaking your head by the time you realized what he was saying. “Captain Buggy, please don’t make me go,” you begged, your chest clenching painfully at the thought of going anywhere without him. “I can still do my job. I’ll do anything, just please don’t make me go.”

He looked at you flatly, anger simmering in his eyes. “Not a chance. Consider this a demotion, kiddo. Right now, you’re worth a lot more as a hostage than you are here being a pain in the ass.” 

[tsukiyadori]

About the Title "Kemutai Hanashi"

Author Hayashi Fumiya tweeted a link to their pixivFanbox this week, which I have also only now read, despite it having already been up since 2022:

It's about the Title. Everyone can become like Takeda and Arita and everyone can become somebody who'd treat them like 'smoke'. And that is both a right, but also wrong at the same time. It's an article about this subject. It has been completely set to public access, so anyone can read it. [Smoke] Just who is 'smoky'? | Hayashi Fumiya | pixivFanbox

I decided to translate it, as the article is quite insightful for this title, which is, by all means, rather hard to properly translate:

煙たい kemutai means literally 'smoky'. There is something or someone smoky, it stings your nose, throat and eyes, making it hard to breathe and you suffer. Figuratively it describes something awkward, uncomfortable, that makes you feel constrained, crammy, reserved, hesitating while also wanting to keep it at a distance, at an arm's length away, be that out of polite respectful distancing or simply because it's not pleasant to deal with. (Just like smoke.)

話 hanashi can mean story, conversation, or more abstractly a theme, subject, topic, thing.

煙たがる kemutagaru literally means "wanting to make into smoke". It describes being sensitive to smoke or figuratively to dislike the company of someone or considering them a burden, a nuisance, troublesome. So to keep the metaphor it's like they treat them like smoke.

For the article's translation below, I will for the most part use the literal translation of 'smoke' or "smoky" for kemutai, as to not disturb the author's thoughts with my own interpretation.

[Smoke] Just Who is 'Smoky'?

Posted November 7th, 2022 07:45

Occasionally I get questions about the meaning of the title, but I notice I haven't really talked about it. I think chapter 12 delves somewhat onto its core, so I thought now might be a good time to touch upon it.

The title "Kemutai Hanashi" is the title the first installment of the doujin version holds. Basically, its meaning hasn't changed since.

Kemutai Hanashi #1: [Original Work] Kemutai Hanashi I collected the story about the two, that I windingly posted on twitter here. I was hesitating about borrowing the tag, but whether the two have this sort of relationship or not is not an issue of this story. So I would be very happy if you could let it not concern you and read it with a broad heart! 2019.6.30 ps: I was brooding over it, but because the idea of that the feelings of the two are apart from a romantic relationship has solidified, I decided to remove the BL tag from this series.

(Note: This first doujin installment broadly corresponds to volume 3, or in direct scene correlations to chapter 13 and 17, with the chapters in between being new and expanding on it.)

To begin with, this story was not a story about how the relationship between the two is outside the realm of being common and how they kind of can't explain it. It's about Arita who broods over how Takeda's surroundings don't understand him. On the side there is the setting about how their relationship is a sort of not knowing what it is, but the main theme is about 'What is true kindness?'.

At the time, my personal underlying motive for drawing this was because I thought if I talked to somebody about it, they'd think of me as annoying, so I made a manga out of it. If Takeda really existed, likely there would be people just like in the story who would make fun of Takeda's kindness and not understand him. I might be one of them. From the perspective of those people, it might already be bothersome to just listening to anyone trying to defend Takeda. In a way, it is a story, that blames people for not understanding. That's why I decided on the title 'Kemutai Hanashi', which is entwined with the smoking inside this story.

I think I decided on the title as the series title after I already drew several installments of the doujin, but this theme permeates through all of them, because I thought people would think of me as bothersome if I talked about it. It was like a declaration, to be "talking about something bothersome!". If I were asked who was talking about 'smoky' things, the answer would be Takeda and Arita. That's why, at the end of the published version's chapter 1, Takeda says that their life would be a "smoky" thing to the eyes of other people.

One might consider the people of the series, who do not understand Takeda and Arita, or are sensitive to them as if they are smoke, as "terrible people". But not understanding or being indifferent to other people is, if you changed perspectives, something everyone does. Everyone may not understand somebody and consider them to be troublesome. Due to the structure of the story and having Takeda and Arita as protagonists, it's easy to be supportive of them, but everyone can become Takeda and Arita, while they also can become people who treat them like smoke.

I think it's inevitable, that people wind up being indifferent to other people. There is a limit to understanding, and I think you also need to protect yourself. If you were to empathize with everyone and everything that happens, your body won't last. If you blame yourself for not understanding, your heart won't last. That's why I think that, as one option of many, becoming indifferent is not something to be reproached for. However, I'd like for people to be self-aware about the likelihood that you may be indifferent to somebody. I'd like people to not forget, that it might be, that you are treating someone really badly. I chose the title with this sort of self-admonishment behind it.

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(TL time ~90min)