#Best event management tool

[akshaykumar7866]

🎉 Say Hello to Seamless Event Planning with Ootbo App! 🎉

Planning an event can feel like juggling too many tasks at once. From finding the perfect venue to managing vendor communications and staying within budget, it’s easy to get overwhelmed. But what if you had an app that handled everything in one place? Enter the Ootbo App—the ultimate event planning tool designed to make organizing events stress-free, seamless, and fun! 🎈

Whether you’re planning a wedding, corporate event, birthday party, or any special occasion, the Ootbo App is your go-to solution for managing every aspect of the event planning process. 🗓️✨

🌟 Why Choose Ootbo App?

Gone are the days of switching between multiple apps, emails, and spreadsheets. Ootbo App simplifies the entire event planning process, from start to finish. Here’s how:

1. Create Events Effortlessly 🎨

Ootbo offers an intuitive interface that allows you to create detailed events in minutes. Simply input event details, set the date and time, and let Ootbo do the rest. 💡 Pro Tip: Customize your event profile to include specific requirements and preferences for vendors!

2. Receive Multiple Vendor Quotes 💼

Why chase down vendors when they can come to you? With Ootbo, you can: 🔍 Post your event requirements. 📩 Receive multiple quotes from verified vendors. 📊 Compare options side-by-side to choose the best fit.

This saves you time and ensures you get competitive pricing without the hassle of endless phone calls. 📞

3. In-App Vendor Chats 💬

Communication is key when planning an event, and Ootbo has you covered! 📱 Chat with potential vendors directly through the app. 📋 Discuss availability, services, and pricing in real time. 📎 Share documents, photos, and event details seamlessly.

Forget the confusion of scattered email threads—Ootbo keeps all your conversations in one place, organized and easy to access.

4. In-App Calls for Quick Decisions 📞

Sometimes, a quick call can make all the difference. Ootbo allows you to: 🔊 Make in-app calls to vendors without sharing personal contact details. 📌 Record important discussions and reference them later. 📈 Keep all event-related calls connected to your event profile.

No more searching through your call history for vendor numbers—everything stays in the app!

5. Hire Vendors with Confidence 🤝

Once you’ve reviewed quotes and discussed details, hiring your chosen vendor is as easy as a tap! 📄 Securely finalize agreements within the app. 💳 Pay vendors through a secure payment gateway. 🔒 Enjoy peace of mind knowing your transactions are protected.

With Ootbo, you’re not just hiring vendors—you’re partnering with professionals who are ready to make your event a success! 🎉

🏆 The Benefits of Using Ootbo App

All-in-One Solution: Manage your event from creation to completion in a single app.

Time-Saving: No more endless emails, phone calls, or spreadsheets.

Competitive Pricing: Receive and compare quotes to get the best value for your budget.

Seamless Communication: Chat and call vendors directly within the app.

Secure Transactions: Make payments and finalize contracts with confidence.

🎯 Who Can Use Ootbo?

Ootbo is designed for everyone! Whether you’re:

👰 Planning a wedding. 🏢 Organizing a corporate event. 🎂 Hosting a birthday party. 🎭 Coordinating a community event.

Ootbo App is your trusted event planning companion.

📲 Download the Ootbo App Today!

Ready to take the stress out of event planning? Download the Ootbo App today and experience the future of event management!

🔗 Visit Ootbo App to learn more. 📱 Available on iOS and Android.

Make your next event unforgettable with Ootbo! 🎉

With the Ootbo App, event planning has never been easier or more efficient. Start planning your dream event today! 🎈

[sierraconsult]

Monday CRM is all about tailoring the platform to your unique business processes, helping you achieve maximum efficiency. Our team customizes everything from the interface to the boards and automation features to suit your specific needs. We develop clear workflows, connect data smoothly, and set up automation that streamlines your operations. As your trusted Monday CRM partner, we also integrate the platform with your existing tools, enhancing collaboration and data insight.

[clearevent]

Corporate Events Management Software - ClearEvent

ClearEvent is the ultimate solution for seamless corporate event planning and execution. Designed with businesses in mind, this software streamlines every aspect of event management, from registration and ticketing to communication and real-time analytics. With its intuitive interface, ClearEvent empowers teams to stay organized, enhance attendee experiences, and deliver memorable events with ease. Whether you're hosting conferences, workshops, or networking events, ClearEvent ensures your corporate gatherings are efficient, professional, and impactful. https://clearevent.com/

[justposting1]

Dates Are Your Blood Sugar's Best Friend: Ditch the Myths! Dr. Mandell

In this article, we’re diving deep into the often-misunderstood world of dates and their incredible benefits for blood sugar management. Many people shy away from this naturally sweet fruit due to common myths, but we’re here to clear the air! Dates are not just a delicious snack; they are a powerhouse of nutrients that can actually help stabilize your blood sugar levels. Packed with fiber,…

[chronicallycouchbound]

PSA: Please don’t ask participants to do grounding/mindful/somatic/etc practices at your events

Grounding exercises should not be an activity in large group settings, especially unsolicited and without warning, especially if you’re not aware of every single person in the space’s mental health conditions, physical health conditions, and personal relationship to their body.

Practices such as mindfulness, grounding, somatic exercises, breathing techniques, body scans, etc. are very helpful therapeutic tools to help manage stress. They can (and do!) help plenty of people– when taught safely and used effectively!

HOWEVER for people with conditions that cause psychosis and/or dissociative conditions such as depersonalization/derealization, these techniques are contraindicated and can make their symptoms significantly worse. They should only be used with guidance from their mental health team and adapted to their needs. For people with conditions like anxiety and PTSD, being aware of breathing can trigger a trauma response or anxiety attacks.

And for people with conditions that cause chronic pain or other uncomfortable bodily sensations, becoming re-centered with their bodies can cause more awareness of the pain they are in, which a level of (ideally functional) dissociation is actually helpful. For people in wheelchairs and powerchairs, touching the ground beneath their feet isn’t always an option. For people with cardiac and pulmonary conditions, deep breathing can be impossible or can trigger asthma attacks. For disabled people in general, doing body scans can be impossible due to paralysis or limb differences. They can bring awareness to things the person wasn’t aware were wrong to begin with (which is helpful in certain spaces, but not a great ice breaker at a retreat!)

And for trans people, binders and other garments can restrict breathing, and taking repeated deep breaths while binding can cause rib damage (which is why you shouldn't bind at night, while coughing from sickness, while exercising, etc). Becoming centered in a body that makes you dysphoric can be deeply distressing, again, a level of functional dissociation helps.

This also goes for plenty of other people in marginalized bodies, such as people of color, people who use substances, queer people, and more. Becoming grounded in your own marginalized body can be a heavy weight to carry, and needs appropriate and individualized care to be a beneficial experience.

As an alternative, I suggest doing a round of gratitudes instead, it allows for people to choose their level of vulnerability in spaces, while not being generally contraindicated for many people. Doing fun (and appropriate to the setting) icebreakers are great. Ask what brings someone to the space. Check-ins about basic needs such as if people need to use the restroom, eat, drink water, are rested, etc. can be more appropriate body check-ins for folks to do.

I don’t recommend doing these exercises even with a warning beforehand. If I'm in the room while someone is leading a breathing exercise, even if I try to ignore it, I (and most people) would automatically become aware of my breathing. The same goes for any other techniques. These techniques can cause real, life-threatening levels of harm for some people, and can even just be deeply uncomfortable or distressing for others. Dissociation is not inherently evil or bad or harmful. It is the way the body and mind naturally respond to adverse experiences (note: it can also cause distress and at higher levels, can be disordered) it is best to allow people to exist as they are in communal spaces. Let people show up as they are.

Most spaces are not equipped or appropriate to respond to emergencies, difficult feelings, and all the varied responses that can come from folks doing mindfulness in group settings.

I personally do some things before large gatherings and events to feel centered on the activity I’ll be doing, and afterward, I decompress. Encourage participants to lean on their natural supports and offer suggestions for it! Be creative in your caring!

This also doesn’t mean to discourage these practices! If you see someone doing deep breathing, check in with them, offer a space for them to decompress, care for them! Worksheets or posters on techniques like square breathing and 5 senses check-ins are great for a quiet room or spaces where participants can decide if they want/are able to engage with those tools. It should be a fully consensual opt-in, rather than being forced to opt-out. Having to leave a room when a group leader says “We’re going to start a mindful breathing meditation, please feel free to leave if you have psychosis, chronic pain, or are trans” is obviously othering and outs people.

Sincerely, someone who has psychotic symptoms, dissociation, chronic pain, is trans and whose body is marginalized in many ways and is really tired from trying to explain this at every event I go to

[gilbertscurls]

I need a fic of dad!matt x reader with their kids Halloween 😩 I just know he’d go all out for his kids. Carving pumpkins, dressing up with them, posing with them for all the cute photos, taking them trick or treating, and letting them eat too much candy while they watch a family movie together to end the night 🧡🧡🧡🥰🥰🥰

a bit late, but hope you like it! <3

Trick or Treat ➵ Matt Sturniolo

It was late October, and the air had turned crisp with a hint of autumn leaves drifting on the wind. Halloween was only a day away, and your house was buzzing with excitement. Matt had been planning for this day since the beginning of the month. Halloween was practically his Super Bowl, and with June, Luna, and Cody to celebrate with, he was more than ready to go all out.

Morning: Pumpkin Carving

You were just finishing breakfast when you saw Matt bringing in a bunch of pumpkins he’d picked out—three for the kids and one large one for him to carve alongside them. The twins, June and Luna, let out squeals of excitement, while Cody clapped his chubby little hands from his high chair, eyes wide at the sight of the bright orange pumpkins.

“Alright, who’s ready to make the best jack-o’-lanterns on the block?” Matt grinned, rubbing his hands together like a mischievous villain.

The girls jumped up and down, yelling, “Us! Us!” Cody let out an enthusiastic shriek, waving his arms, clearly just as excited even if he didn’t quite understand what was going on yet.

You set up a little pumpkin carving station outside, laying out newspaper, tools, and aprons for the kids. Matt took it upon himself to help each child scoop out the pumpkin guts, laughing with them as they giggled at the squishy, slimy texture.

“Look, Daddy! Mine has a silly face!” Luna said proudly, pointing at the big grin she’d managed to make with Matt’s help.

“Mine’s scary!” June chimed in, showing off her pumpkin with jagged teeth and big eyes.

Meanwhile, Cody had managed to get more pumpkin on himself than in his own pumpkin, his hands and face smeared with the orange goop. Matt chuckled, reaching over to clean him up, though he couldn’t resist taking a few pictures of Cody in his messy pumpkin glory.

Finally, with everyone’s pumpkins carved and ready, you helped Matt set them up on the front porch. As the kids admired their work, you snuck a glance at Matt, who was looking proudly at the three little pumpkins lined up in a row.

“They did such a good job, didn’t they?” he said, voice soft with pride.

“They really did,” you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. Watching Matt with the kids always filled you with such warmth, and it was clear this was the kind of thing he’d dreamed about for years.

Afternoon: Costume Time

When the pumpkin carving was done, it was time for the next big event—costumes. Matt had spent weeks coordinating a family costume theme, and after much deliberation, he’d settled on a classic: you and he would be superheroes, while the kids would be their little sidekicks.

The twins squealed with excitement as they put on their matching capes and tiny masks. Cody was in his own little onesie costume, and even though he was too young to understand what was happening, he seemed to love all the attention. You and Matt donned your superhero outfits, complete with matching capes and masks, looking every bit the dynamic duo alongside your little team.

Once everyone was dressed, Matt insisted on taking photos. He set up the camera and posed with each kid individually, then with all of you together, his grin wider than ever as he held Cody on one arm and the twins held onto his other hand.

“Alright, everyone say ‘BOO!’” he shouted, and you all did, laughing as the camera snapped.

Evening: Trick-or-Treating

Finally, it was time for trick-or-treating. As the sun began to set, you and Matt took the kids out around the neighborhood, joining a crowd of families walking from door to door, bags in hand. Matt was in his element, showing off the kids’ costumes to neighbors and encouraging them to say “trick-or-treat” at every doorstep.

June and Luna took turns shouting “Trick or treat!” while Cody toddled along, holding Matt’s hand as he tried to keep up with his older sisters. Every time he received a piece of candy, his eyes lit up, and he looked up at Matt with an expression of pure delight.

When you stopped by a house decorated with spooky lights and a fog machine, Matt playfully crouched down, pretending to be scared. “Whoa, look at that! So spooky!” he said, feigning terror.

The girls giggled, and June tugged on his sleeve, reassuring him, “It’s okay, Daddy, we’ll protect you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Matt pretending to be scared for their amusement, his goofy grin showing just how much he loved every second of this night.

By the time you made it back home, their candy bags were bursting, and their eyes were wide with excitement despite the sleepy expressions starting to show.

Night: Family Movie and Candy Overload

Back home, you helped the kids get out of their costumes, washing off any lingering makeup and getting them settled into pajamas. Matt grabbed a few bowls and let each of them pick out their favorite candies to munch on as you all snuggled up on the couch for a Halloween movie marathon.

With Cody cuddled on Matt’s lap and the twins curled up beside you, the family movie night began. You all watched as classic Halloween cartoons played on the screen, with the kids giggling and gasping at the spooky but silly scenes.

When the movie ended, Matt leaned over, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at the three kids, all nodding off one by one. He gently tucked Cody into the crook of his arm and helped guide the girls’ heads to lean against you, their eyes closing as they fell asleep, their little hands still clutching half-eaten pieces of candy.

You looked at him, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. “This was the perfect Halloween, Matt.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “It really was. I’d do this every night if it meant seeing them this happy.”

You leaned against him, watching the kids as they slept, candy wrappers and empty bowls surrounding you, and in that moment, you knew that these were the moments you’d remember forever.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Products & Services Worth The Splurge

Fashion:

A great couple of bras in black/nude (your best skin-toned shade)

Comfortable, breathable, and seamless underwear

Outerwear (Coats, jackets, blazers)

The perfect pair of jeans

An LBD that works from day to night

Comfortable, sturdy, sleek, and timeless footwear (a versatile black boot, a black heel, white sneaker, and a black flat/loafer/sandal)

A timeless and versatile crossbody or shoulder bag (a larger one for the daytime/work or school and a smaller one for nighttime/events)

One or two well-made classic jewelry item(s)

A conversation-starting item or accessory

Beauty:

Sunscreen

Any skincare/skin cosmetic products that are game-changers for you

A quality hair brush, comb, and hair towel

Your signature scent

A quality razor/hair removal product

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Reliable hair tools and sturdy nail tools

A quality hair heat protectant/scalp cleansing or conditioning spray

Makeup brushes and beauty tool cleaners

Home:

Lamps/lighting

Couch/desk chair

Everything for your bed: Bed frame, mattress/sheets/pillows, etc.

Knives

Dishwasher-safe and microwave-safe dishes & cups you love

A full-length mirror

Vacuum

Storage solutions/cedar blocks or moth balls

Quality holders for everything: Paper towels, shower storage, hooks, mailbox/key bowls

Name brand paper products/household cleaners

Electric toothbrush & Waterpik

Sound-proof headphones/Airpods

MacBook Air

Health & Wellness:

High-quality lettuce and/or sprouts

Organic frozen fruits and vegetables (if fresh is too pricey)

BPA-free canned goods

Potassium bromate & glyphosate-free grain products

Snacks free of artificial colors

Quality coffee

An at-home massage tool/heating pad

Fur products for skin/hair removal

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Quality running shoes

Anything that goes near your vulva or into the vagina: Sex toys, lube, condoms, toy cleaners, pads/tampons/menstrual cups, cleansing wipes, etc.

A yoga mat, resistance band, and a pair of small ankle weights

Spotify subscription

Books and audiobooks

Services:

Therapy

A top-tier haircut

House cleaning (even if it's only once every couple of months)

Top-tier hair removal/brow maintenance services of your choice

Best doctors, dentists, OB/GYN, and dermatologists you can get

At least one personal training/styling session in your life

Professional/Social:

Ownership of the domain for your full legal/professional name and/or business name

A CPA/bookkeeper/fiduciary financial advisor

Automation workflow/content management system software

A lawyer for contract review/LLC services

Personalized stationery/"Thank You" cards

Memorable client gifting for the holidays/milestone successes

Niche skill-based certifications (Google, AWS, Hubspot, etc.) or courses made by trusted professionals in your field

Subscriptions in world-leading and industry-authority digital publications

[prettieinpink]

how do i learn to develop JOMO? (joy of missing out)

HOW TO DEVELOP JOMO

Jomo is the joy in missing out. JOMO encourages intentional living and finding fulfilment in the present rather than seeking validation or fearing missing out on what others are doing. It celebrates the freedom and peace that comes from consciously choosing to miss out on certain social activities and trends. 

DISCONNECT. Social media is an illusion, it makes everything look better than it truly is. Not only should you put boundaries on how you manage and use your accounts, but you should also shift your mindset when using them. 

Begin to think of social media as a tool to help you become the best version of yourself. Consume content that resonates with your current life or the life you’re working towards. This will motivate you to work hard for what you want. 

EMBRACE SOLITUDE. Learn to find enjoyment in being alone. Using this time by ourselves to reflect, recharge and indulge in our pleasures allows us to connect better with ourselves. 

To get used to being alone, challenge yourself to do things that you would usually have to do with someone else, by yourself. Whether it’s eating out, studying, shopping etc. 

REFRAME YOUR MINDSET TO GRADITUDE. Someone else’s assets, skills or experiences do not take away from your own. Be thankful for what you have, and what you are going to get. 

Begin to focus on what to cherish currently, other than what you could be missing out on. A way to practice gratitude is at the end of the day, to list 5 things that you’re thankful for (and you wouldn’t trade for someone else’s life!). 

PRIORITISE YOURSELF. You should start to see that the ability to take care of yourself is a privilege that you shouldn’t ignore. Instead of saying ‘yes’ to every commitment, only go to the ones that align with you and bring genuine fulfilment. 

The times when you’re not at any commitments, use it to invest in yourself and practice some self-care rituals regularly. Your health is more important than any other event. 

BE INTENTIONAL WITH YOUR TIME. Stop chasing after every single opportunity, especially ones that do not resonate with your dream life. Only do the things that align with your values and goals. 

Stay focused on what truly matters to you. This doesn’t even have to be about going out, it applies to scrolling, laying in bed all day, or watching TV shows, do something intentional instead. 

PRACTICE DETACHMENT. Focus on you and you only. Other people’s lives, words or actions should not play a role in how your days go. It does not matter what they’re doing, you’re just wasting energy on someone who probably could not care less. 

CELEBRATE OTHER’S SUCCESS. Someone else’s success is proof that you can do it too. There is enough success for everyone, be happy that others are achieving what you want to achieve because that allows you to open up to the opportunities you want. 

GET MOTIVATED & INSPIRED INTERNALLY. While I’m all for using other people’s lives as motivation, there is a line when your life becomes misaligned with your goals and values, because that’s still someone else’s life. 

You know yourself better than anyone else. You know why you want this, and you know how you envision it. Tap into those feelings and embody them. 

[williamkisser]

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

[bloodiedrogue]

GUARD DOG (11)

SUMMARY: During the aftermath of your confession, you and Astarion navigate your feelings.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,982

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Act 2, canon typical violence, brief mentions of past abuse.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, I made my Saturday schedule with a few hours to spare. :') Also, update: I'm going to be closing my tag list on Monday. I have a lot of people signed up and it's becoming a bit overwhelming to keep track of over time so if you've been thinking about joining do it while you still can!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

You feel like a ghost, drifting from one experience to the next —your body moving as needed while your mind wanders, failing to grasp the fact that you’re already rooted inside of Moonrise Towers.

Blinking hard at such a realization, you find yourself scanning the secluded office you and the party suddenly occupy, feeling the fog of your mind slowly begin to lift, remembering why you’re here. Why Ketheric Thorm has somehow allowed you to explore the contents of his subject’s office. 

He needs you to get the relic. Not that you know exactly what that is. Considering he doesn’t trust you yet, all you know is that after you’ve gathered supplies you’re meant to go to the mausoleum to find it. Along with a man named Balthazar who’s gone missing. The same man whose office you now find yourself looting. 

Moving through the space as quietly as possible, you notice quickly that all around there are stacks of books, creating this sort of claustrophobic space you have to steady your breath against. Deep within your chest, you can feel the past anxiety of the day bubbling up within your throat as you take it all in, threatening to spill just as Wyll clears his throat, telling you to hurry up so that Z’rell doesn’t get suspicious.

At the mention of Ketheric’s disciple —an orc woman you met earlier— you swallow hard and nod, allowing the fog to resurface as you wander towards a nearby desk, exploring the contents of the tabletop with narrowed eyes. Across it, all the usual items sit: various notebooks, an ink bottle with a well-used quill, a couple of decorative knick knacks here and there. However, there’s also a skull that sits at the top right edge, piquing your interest enough to reach out and grab it, testing out the weight.

“Death enthusiast or necromancer?” 

As if on cue, Astarion slithers up to your side, pulling out various tools from his pocket before kneeling on the ground, turning his attention to the desk drawer. 

Almost immediately you reply with necromancer, but unlike him, there isn’t a flirtatious tone that coats your words. Instead, there’s just exhaustive sadness, prompting his eyes to flicker up momentarily as he pushes the hook into the keyhole. 

“Care to elaborate?”

You shrug and run your finger around the eye socket of the skull, tracing the edge with distraction —feeling your mind continue to distance itself from the task at hand as your gaze grows fuzzy.

It’s a sensation that suddenly makes you remember the events of earlier. The ones where you foolishly confessed your feelings only to receive no such reciprocation. A feeling that weighs you down without warning, covering you in a layer of anxious smog that sticks to your skin, reminding you that you’re mad at him. Frustrated and disappointed —a version of yourself that makes you wish you could be anywhere else so that you could process your feelings.

Because you haven’t had time to, yet. Thanks to Shadowheart’s interruption, all you’ve been left with is questions. Inquiries so intense that between fighting the convoy for the lantern and arriving at the steps of Moonrise, you’ve managed to drive yourself over the edge. 

Breathing in, you can feel how heavy it’s made you. How, as Astarion remains knelt beside you, trying his best to avoid your gaze but ultimately failing to do so, makes you want to plummet into the earth in a heap of tears.

“I’m going to take a look in the other room,” you tell him then, giving yourself a moment of reprieve as you place the skull back onto the desk and make your way to the door. Once there, you reach for the handle and freeze in place, releasing a shaky plume of air before you swallow hard and push it open, allowing it to close until Astarion’s hand shoots out to grab it. 

“I’ll give you a hand.”

Standing near the entrance, you open your mouth to respond but ultimately fail to come up with anything that isn’t mean-spirited, prompting you to instead frown and turn on your heel, moving towards the farthest bookcase you can find. Immediately after that, you attempt to tune out his presence completely, opting to sift through the catalogue of books before you, searching for some sort of clue. Perhaps a book on the Shadowlands themselves or something to do with the undead —anything to distract your mind from Astarion’s movements as he explores the room, eventually turning to face you. 

“I assume you want to talk about earlier.”

You do but not right now, so instead of responding you roll your eyes and grab the first book you see, opening it up to find a series of familiar-looking symbols gracing the page.

At first, they merely look like some sort of intricate design. The way each figure curls in odd ways, drawing your eye to the complicated graph in the centre. Then your mind clicks into place and you’re suddenly blinking back the fog, forcing your mind to focus on the translations written below each image, realizing what they are. 

They’re Infernal letters. The language of the Hells clearly displayed in front of you, reminding you of Astarion’s scars as you look up to scan him, watching him reach for a nearby book. 

“Listen, darling, I know you’re angry with me but—“

Without even thinking, you shush him loudly, moving towards his frame. “Take off your shirt.”

He drops his jaw open in shock, laughing in slight confusion. “I beg your pardon? Take off my shirt?” His eyes are wide as he continues to stare, quickly discovering that you’re serious as he tosses the aforementioned book aside. “You’re aware our compatriots are just beyond this door, correct? Or have you suddenly gone mad with lust and failed to remember?” 

You scrunch up your face, shaking your head. “Ew, Astarion. No, not like that.”

He shoots you a look of relief before quickly backtracking and narrowing his eyes. “I’m sorry —what d’you mean ew?” 

His sudden offence makes you scoff and motion to the open page in front of you, forcing him to notice the symbols. “These look like your scars, don’t they? The ones on your back.” 

There’s a moment of silence that stirs between you then. As Astarion reaches for the page, gently brushing his fingers over yours while leaning in, you swallow hard and try not to think of before. Of the unrequited statement that still lingers between you, ripping you apart while he somehow remains fine. 

Standing there, drinking in the great interest that befalls his face, you find it incredibly hard not to reach out and shake him in that moment. To grip him by the collar and demand answers despite knowing there are far more important things at hand. For example, the fact that, on top of the already complicated infiltration mission, you’re now required to go on this little treasure hunt. One that will most likely have dangerous consequences if you manage to fail. 

Meaning, the last thing you should be thinking about is how Astarion still hasn’t bothered to respond to your confession.

“Did that bastard seriously carve Infernal into my flesh?” He looks disgusted as he glances up at you, his brows knitted towards the centre of his face while you offer your sympathies. 

“I guess so.” 

Swearing under his breath, he takes a step back, immediately moving his hands to pop open the leathers of his armour, ignoring the way you press your lips together nervously. 

“You know he spent the entire night doing it,” he says then, moving his hands across the many fastenings, shaking his head at the memory. “For hours I laid bare beneath him, enduring the pain of his blasted knife —and for what? So he could further brand me as his own? Make even more claim to a helpless slave.” 

You frown at his words, hearing the ache of his voice crack inside your ears as you take a step forward, listening to him huff and toss his leathers onto the floor before taking off his undershirt.

“Wasn’t it enough to merely strip me of my rights? To starve me as I filled him up each night.” 

A part of you wants to tell him no. That nothing Cazador did to him would ever be enough. But then you hear the breath that escapes his chest —the tremors of its wake hitting your fingers as you tentatively grip his shoulder, feeling the strain of his muscles tense beneath your touch. 

“We don’t have to do this right now,” you tell him, forcing your thumb further into his flesh with careful precision, feeling him melt. “We can take the book and come back to it.”  

Immediately, he scoffs in response, craning his neck towards you just as the door creaks open, revealing a very shocked looking Gale who freezes at the doorway. 

“I uh… I recognize that I’m interrupting something. However, might I suggest the two of you perhaps don’t do this right now?”

Releasing Astarion from your grasp, you take a step back and close the book in your hand. “May I suggest knocking, maybe?” 

Gale snorts and raises his hands in innocence. “Perhaps you’re right. My apologies. I promise I’m not here to make a fuss. Just here to remind you that while you’re attempting to bed one another in quite literally the worst location we’ve experienced thus far, the rest of us are out here dealing with the constant reminder of our impending doom.” 

Smiling sarcastically, Gale then motions to Astarion who smiles back and reaches for his clothes. “And here I was thinking of inviting you to our little party.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll have to decline though on account of the fact that both of you frighten me and frankly, I’m not one for sharing.” 

“Hm. Too bad.” Astarion pouts, prompting you to sigh in embarrassment, pressing the book in your hands against your forehead.

“Yes, well, anyway. The rest of us are going to split up and take a look around. Feel free to join us?”

His last sentence is phrased as a question but you know deep down it’s more of a command, telling you to stop, so you do. Nodding your head in response, the two of you then watch him leave before turning to the other, releasing shared heavy breaths as Astarion continues to redress. 

“Stupid wizard.” 

Despite the grin that erupts across your face, you realize then that focusing on anything other than the task at hand is dangerous. That, even though you want the answers to all the questions floating inside your head, the only thing you should be focusing on is Ketheric Thorm and the hidden relic that Balthazar failed to collect.

You shouldn’t be thinking of yourselves. At least, not in the way your mind wants to. Instead of emotions, it should be focused on survival. On the steps needed to ensure your safety to get to all the parts you actually want.

“He’s right you know —about doing this another time.” You tap the cover of the book and see Astarion roll his eyes, moving his hands to readjust the top layer of his armour with a sigh. 

“I understand that but—“

Before he can finish, your hand finds his chest, pressing it softly. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise. Just give it time.”

Deep down you know it’s a difficult thing to ask. Considering Astarion’s spent the majority of his life waiting already, you’re well aware of the lack of patience he’s developed. How, his sliver of freedom thanks to the Illithid has granted him the ability to become easily irritated by time. 

Unsurprisingly, since you’ve known him, he’s always been prone to bouts of restlessness. Whenever he’s forced to wait there’s often a scowl that presents itself across his face, growing with each passing moment until he eventually explodes. Because of this, when you look at him with desperate eyes, watching the way he twitches and shifts, you’re more than anxious. You’re downright terrified. Lost to a grouping of thoughts that tell you he most likely hates you for asking. 

“I promise the moment we have time, I’ll spend every waking hour trying to translate this for you,” you tell him. Hoping and praying that just this once he’ll understand that waiting is the right thing to do and not a lie you tell him to gain his trust. 

“Can we even afford to wait, though?”

You look at him like you don’t know the answer, sliding your hand upwards to play with his collar. “At this rate, we might just have to take that chance. You heard so yourself, Gale and the others are already planning to depart. We can’t fall behind and further risk our chance of surviving this.” 

He knows you're right. You can tell by the way his jaw clenches and he looks away, trying to suppress the frustrations. 

“I know I already said it before but I do love you. Truly. I’d do anything to make you happy but right now keeping you safe is my number one priority and if that means delaying said happiness, so be it.” 

After that, there’s a moment of silence that hits. One that’s filled with avoided glances and heavy sighs —all of which come from Astarion as he struggles to accept your words. 

At first, it fills you with regret, realizing the way you phrased yourself probably sounds a bit insensitive. But then you see that familiar smirk begin to curl across his lips, pulling upwards with a scoff as he playfully shoves you away. 

“Fine. I’ll wait. But not because you told me to.”

“Of course.” 

“I’m serious. You’re not the boss of me. I can do whatever I please. You just happen to make an effective argument. Plus, you’re rather convincing when you’re professing your undying love for me.” 

“Shut up.” Pushing him back in annoyance, you shake your head and step through the doorway, moving through the office until you’re out in the hall again, glancing around as you pack away the book. “What supplies do we need anyway?”

“Potions, definitely. Perhaps some arrows or elixirs. I know Gale wanted some spell scrolls but after the stunt he pulled earlier I refuse to get him any.”

You fake pout in his direction as you both begin to walk with no destination in mind. “Aw, is somebody sad that the wizard didn’t accept his sexual invitation?”

“Hardly. That man wouldn’t know an orgasm from a sneeze.”

Suppressing the urge to laugh, you offer an unknowing shrug. “I don’t know. You don’t bed a goddess and not have the dexterity to please a woman.”

Scoffing, Astarion turns towards a random doorway, giving you a curious look before you nod your head, prompting him to open the door. “Please, the man pales in dexterous endeavours compared to me.” 

“Hm. Maybe. Perhaps I’ll ask him for a hand one day. Maybe do a little experimentation?”

As you smirk in his direction there’s a feeling of normalcy that hits. Slowly but surely it fills you up with that familiar warmth, reminding you of the reason you first fell for Astarion in the first place. Somehow he has this unwavering ability to make you grin through the darkness. To distract you from the hellish fear that nips at your feet each time you step into dangerous territory. 

Compared to everyone else he’s the closest thing you’ve had to a friend. And now that you’re joking back and forth, grinning as he stares at you in fake shock thanks to your statement, you begin to accept that his response no longer matters. That you’ve made your peace with it, knowing he’s still there, comforting you in all the ways you need as you walk further into the room, noticing a white-haired woman standing in the corner.  

Upon taking another step she turns from the worktable in front of her, raising a brow at the two of you before fully turning around with a grin. “Ah, the True Soul.” Moving forward, she then extends her hand towards you but fails to meet your gaze once she notices Astarion’s nose begin to turn up, causing you to frown. “I’m Araj Oblodra, trader in blood and the sanguineous arts.” 

Taking her hand, you feel an unwanted heat hit your palm, making you look down as you peel away, offering your name before motioning to Astarion. “This is—“

“A vampire spawn,” she interrupts with interest, leaning towards him with crossed arms and curious eyes. “What an absolute pleasure.”

Both of you share an awkward glance that doesn’t go unnoticed. Despite that though, she barely bats an eye as she offers her hand again, this time to Astarion who clears his throat and shakes his head. “Astarion… sorry I don’t… touch.”

At first, she seems a bit disappointed but then such feelings are quickly erased when she turns her attention back to you, revealing another grin as she drops her hand. “I assume you’re faring well around Moonrise?”

“If by fairing you mean struggling to find a decent potion seller then yes.” 

She clicks her tongue in understanding, turning towards the worktable behind her to grab a vial unprompted. “Perhaps I could be of service then? As long as you’re willing, of course.”

“Willing?” You raise your brow, watching her twist the vile between her fingers with a smirk. 

“I happen to trade in blood,” she explains. “And the potions that can be wrung from it. Obviously considering such details it’s ideal that I earn the consent of my customers. Otherwise who knows what kind of havoc might occur. Hence the willingness.”

“Hm, now nice of you to offer the bare minimum,” Astarion comments, making you narrow your eyes in confusion, wondering what’s suddenly got him so on edge.

“Yes well, if you’d humour me with a drop or two of your blood I could whip up something truly potent for the both of us.”

Immediately there’s a wariness that sets in at the mention of sharing. Overall, it feels as if there’s something off about her. Maybe it’s the way she carries herself or the instant distrust you sense from Astarion as he stands beside you, tensing up with every passing moment you spend talking to her. Either or, you take both as a sign of caution, taking a moment to collect your thoughts as you glance around to view her workspace, noticing various needles and vials, haphazardly filled with liquids you can only assume to be her customer’s blood. 

“Not sure I like the idea of weaponizing my blood, to be honest.” Offering her a polite smile, you see her kindness falter in response, replacing it with an air of curiosity. 

“I can assure you it’s safe,” she says. “Nothing more than a pinprick but obviously if you aren’t keen perhaps we can discuss other matters.” 

As she speaks her gaze focuses on Astarion once again, her lids half-closing in such a lusty way you find your chest brimming with something bordering between anger and jealousy —enveloping you in hatred.  

“Your spawn, for example.”

The way she says it feels like she’s insinuating a sense of ownership. As if Astarion’s your pet or something equally disgusting. Angrily, it makes you scrunch up your face and turn towards him, sharing a look of displeasure before ultimately turning back to scowl. “You’re aware he’s his own person, right?” 

She laughs dryly. “I’m sure he believes that.” 

“Yes, he does. Because it’s true.”

After that she’s silent for a moment, taking in your words. Allowing them to sift within the air as each of you stare at one another, trying to figure out how to proceed even though you know you’re already done. 

Unable to entertain the lack of sense, you move your hand to Astarion’s arm, feeling him tense beneath your grasp. Then you awaken your tadpole to contact his, feeling the creature shift against the corner of your eye. 

Can we leave, please?

Before he can make the effort to listen to your words, Araj is already speaking again, telling you stories of her childhood and how, even then, she wished to be bitten by a vampire, prompting the two of you to stop.

“I’m sorry. You want to be bitten?” Astarion says in disbelief, watching her nod and take a step closer, sharing her interest further. 

“To feel your life’s blood slipping away? To dance on the edge between life and death?

She looks at him longingly as she speaks, telling him then that she’d want nothing more than to feel the icy sting of his teeth against her flesh, making you scoff in disgust even though you know all too well what it feels like. How addictive it can be to let your mind drift away as you're sucked dry. 

“I’ll even compensate you if you like.”

“Compensate me?” Astarion laughs. “Darling, I’m sorry but my talents cannot be bought.”

“Not even for a potion of legendary power?” she muses. 

Immediately, he shakes his head. “Hm, afraid not.”

Her tone shifts then, frustrations filling her every pore as she looks towards you but motions to him. “You might want to talk some sense into your spawn, you know. I don’t offer such rarities lightly.”

You catch Astarion open his mouth to respond, but before he can you’re already stepping forward, inserting yourself into Araj’s space with such powerful aggression, pressing your knife to her throat. 

“Are you always this dense?”

Suddenly aware of the consequences of her actions, she lets out a shaky breath and eyes Astarion, her expression filling with desperation as you press the blade further into her flesh, using your other hand to force her to look at you. “You’re aware of the meaning, yes? Of the word no?”

Instead of answering she just groans at you, angling her head upwards to try and distance herself from the knife, forcing you to tighten your hold. “Oh, you don’t? Well, allow me to enlighten you then.” 

For a moment you pause, grinning wickedly at the fear within her eyes. Taking in the change of demeanour as you twist the edge of your blade away, huffing as you release her all at once, watching her gasp. 

“It means he doesn’t want to suck your fucking throat. Just as I don’t want to kill you… at least, not here.” 

Sensing the truth within your words, Araj gives you a careful nod and retreats, reaching to grip her tender neck as you put away your blade and scowl one final time. 

As you do Astarion looks at you with wide eyes, barely responding when you grab his arm and lead him back out of the room, swearing angrily under your breath when you slam the door behind you. 

“Well, that was an eventual moment.” 

You can’t help but laugh and lean forward once you realize you’re alone again, resting your forehead against his shoulder in slight embarrassment. “Sorry. I just…”

His hand loops around your shoulders before you can even think to pull away, forcing you into his chest as he laughs and kisses your head, granting you a moment of peace within his hold. “Don’t be. It’s quite enjoyable seeing you like that.”

“All deranged?” you mumble against his chest. 

“Protective,” he corrects. “In fact, I find it quite flattering seeing you puffed up, ready to kill for me.”

You snort and wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him even closer. “Like I said, it’s because I love you.” 

“Yes, well…” Pausing to clear his throat, you feel his hand stroke the top of your head, slowly moving down towards the back of your neck before repeating the process —doing it several times before he ultimately releases a heavy breath. “I love you too, darling. Thank you.”  

-

TAGLIST:

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[sierraconsult]

At Monday CRM, we focus on customizing the platform to fit seamlessly with your business needs, boosting overall productivity. Our experts configure the interface, boards, and automation tools to meet your exact specifications. We create efficient workflows, ensure smooth data integration, and apply automation to optimize your operations. As your Monday CRM partner, we specialize in integrating the platform with your current suite of tools for improved collaboration and visibility.

[himezoro]

Hey

In your last comment ( in love wins all part2) you meant that I could ask you for a story at any time.

My idea would be a story about Zoro in which he first has to admit to himself that he loves the female reader and asks his crew how he can confess his feelings to her and then does it in his usual shy but direct way ^^

We both know he is a big softie at heart x3

tysm for your request and undefeating support, it’s the reason i went back to writing and found the strength to write today. i really hope you’ll enjoy it, and tysm for your patience. i love the introspection your idea offers, it was so fun to write that i added the strawhats as a tool for Zoro to realize his feelings! some parts are before timeskip, and the parts after the timeskip will be mentioned, i hope you’ll enjoy it <3

tw! mention of gender (female) + fluff + sfw!!

wc : 4,31k (i went crazy sorry....)

It was a cool and breezy spring day when Luffy asked you to join the crew. You were a talented strategist during battles and tough times, gifted with a brilliant vision of finding a positive issue to win, while exulting warmth and tenderness, so much that it could tame the devil itself.

And by that, it meant Roronoa Zoro.

The tall swordsman perfectly remembers this day where you officially climbed onto the ship after the events of Enies Lobby, after helping the crew with astute tactics to get Robin back. He was impressed with you back then, by your phlegm and knowledge of the field, your calm, your determination to grant them victory, like you knew them all along, like you loved them all along. It was the love you gave people that allowed your brain to come up with the best solutions. And as a warrior and a solution giver, Zoro was admirative.

Or in trance. Mesmerized. In awe. Struck by an angel. If he were to be honest with himself.

And because Zoro imagined himself talking to you and getting to know what your brain hid, asking about your whereabouts, your culture, your likings and the drinks you drink, he really thought he did.

Yet, other than the casual “Hi”, “Thanks”, “Food’s ready” and “Good night”, the swordsman never uttered a word of what he wished to really share. Was it laziness? Cowardice? Fear? Indeed, he was not the most talkative of the crew, but he knew he could talk to anyone if he wanted to. Hell, he could even talk to the cook.

But when it came to you, he found himself out of breath, and looking at you seemed enough. Seeing you beam at the dinner table while savoring the shitty cook Sanji’s delights, hearing your chatty and bubbly voice when gossiping with Nami and Robin, your laughs when in company of Usopp and Luffy and the soft hums escaping your lips when Brook would play a song. Looking at your plush thighs where Chopper’s head was resting, and the pearl of cola dripping from your pink lips when drinking under the hot weather with Franky.

He both felt like you were a sight bestowed by the Gods for him and forbidden, like the Apple of Eden.

And in magnificent Zoro fashion, he decided to not pay attention and focus on his training.

But even with the best of will, it was hard to pretend you did not exist and that the fluttering in his stomach were not butterflies, especially, on the Thousands Sunny.

THE CAPTAIN, MONKEY D LUFFY

One night, before reaching the Sabaody Archipelago, Zoro was standing quietly by the ocean. His mind was clear from troubles and aches, and he simply stood by the quietness of the sea. You’ve been apart of the crew for what has not been so long, yet, you were fitting beautifully. The way the breeze would caress your hair, the way you would sometimes trip on the ship because of the waves, the way the lemonade you would make tasted so much better than the cook’s. The first time you offered him the said refreshment was the only time he managed to stay close to you. Because you were not leaving, he thought. Or maybe because he was frozen on the spot when you bent down to his sitting/close to napping form and could smell your floral scent.

He was so lost in his thoughts he failed to hear his captain coming.

“Isn’t (Y/N) cool? Like, super cool?” the captain beamed at his first mate and best friend, clapping his feet together as he sat on the rail of the ship. The swordsman did not mind looking his way as he stood by the railing, watching the moon glistening on the ocean.

“I guess, I barely talk to the girl so I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged, hearing your soft giggles from afar as you enjoyed your time with the rest of the crew.

“Well I know she’s cool. And she was so cool when she made all of these plans on her notebook with that fancy swooshing pen thing.” He said, mimicking writing (ndlr : like that light yagami meme lol). “Sanji says she’s pretty. Do you think she’s pretty?”

At that question, Zoro almost chocked on his own air.

“Why would you ask me that? And since when do you Luffy know when people are... pretty?” he said, hoping the moonlit night would hide the pink hue on his cheeks.

“I know when people are pretty! You are pretty! You’re my friend so you’re pretty.” Zoro scoffed at his words, letting his captain talk.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get along super well. Like super buddies. She’s so cool. You should listen to her. Nami said we must listen to her advices during combat or else we EXPLODE!! BOOM!!” he enthusiastically said before jumping off the railing and shaking Zoro’s shoulders before running to pest on someone else.

Zoro stole a glance towards your way and sighed. You did not look pretty. Hell no you didn’t. And to that extent, he disagreed with the cook again. Because you were gorgeous, ethereal. It was beyond being “pretty”, it was beyond being pleasant to look at. You were a gift. And he knew he could keep on looking at you for days if allowed.

And because you caught him looking, you offered him a gentle smile and a wave, which he forgot to reciprocate as he simply nodded and turned back to gazing at the ocean.

I know we would get along well… he sighed, silently wishing he had Luffy’s or Usopp’s social skills to stay by your side.

THE NAVIGATOR, NAMI

Before docking on the Sabaody Archipelago, Nami said it would be nice to dock on a small island to enjoy a day of fun at the beach, which led to having everyone in their bathing suit enjoying the scenery.

Zoro sat on the sand and did not realize his eyes landed on you. You were in the water with chopper on your shoulders, trying to keep steady as you feared for him to fall in the water. Usopp was in front of you with Luffy on his shoulders, trying to make Chopper fall in the water. Zoro claims to not pay attention to the way your (favorite color) bathing suit was perfectly suiting your form. He claims to not pay attention to your wet hair nor to the drops on your eyelids.

“You need a tissue to stop the drooling?” Nami said, standing in front of her crewmate as she put her sunglasses on top of her head.

Zoro glared at her without saying a word, clearly annoyed by the navigator.

“Well if I hadn’t known you were enjoying the view before I would certainly know it now. Would you stop staring at her, you look like Sanji.” she smirked, moving the way as she sat next to him, looking at you as well and smiling.

“Really Zoro you should stop staring, that’s creepy.”

“Did she say anything?” he surprised himself asking. Now at least she stopped blocking the view, and he could go back to “not” pay attention to the way your hand would hold Chopper’s pawn, or the way Usopp would splash water all over your chest.

“Well well well, what do we have here? A request for insights on my girl (Y/N)? By Roronoa Zoro? Is it going to snow in hell? Let me check…” she mischievously snarked, earning a grunt from Zoro in return.

“It’s so funny because I’m sure she talked about you in our quarters a few times ago… or maybe it was in my dream? Maybe your errand money would jog my memory.” she proudly stated, earning another annoyed grunt from Zoro. She looked at him and waited for him to nod his head and wave his hand as a sign for her to continue.

“Thanks for your generosity. And the only thing she said is that you don’t seem to like her because you never talk to her, so she doesn’t want to bother you.”

When he heard what appeared to be your words, he swore his heart broke. How could you reasonably think he doesn’t like you? While you were the only thing on his mind beside training?

“And what did you say… I mean, what did you tell her.” Zoro shyly asked, wondering if his friend Nami did any help.

“Well I did say you hated her, but I’m sure I could tell her you love staring at her like a perv.”

“For fuck sake why would you say stuff like this?!”

“I did not tell her that you idiot!” she said, laughing wholeheartedly. “In fact, I said you were like a bear : terrifying on the outside but kind of nice if you think about it.”

Zoro sighed, instantly feeling sick in the stomach at the idea of you thinking he hated you… or was a perv.

“Why don’t you try talking to her? She’s such a sweet and smart girl, I feel like she was the missing part of this crew. I mean, it’s clear you-

“Do not say that word. I don’t.”

Zoro cut her right off, but that did not stop Nami from stating her piece.

“Fine I’ll use the word fancy. It’s clear you FANCY her. Just because you never had a girlfriend or thought you could like anyone other than your swords or MIHAWKE doesn’t mean you should not act on your feelings right now. Be a normal guy and get her flowers, or I don’t know, you could also just talk.?You know Sanji likes her too right?” she added that last part only to shake Zoro off before leaving with her new found cash.

Zoro kept on looking at you with longing, thinking about what Nami said.

Sanji cannot like her. And how did she know I never had a girlfriend?

THE SNIPER KING, USOPP, AND THE DOCTOR, TONY TONY CHOPPER

Later that night, Zoro decided to sit next to you for dinner. He was set on proving Nami wrong and showing the cook that he did not stand a chance (the poor guy did not get Nami’s joke).

But because Nami is the lively and vibrant human being she is, she, of course, told Usopp and Chopper about her little talk with Zoro.

Which of course, led Usopp to do some teasing, with the help of little

“Hey (Y/N)! What does it feel like finally sitting next to Zoro after weeks of sailing together?” he pried, wiggling his eyebrows at the sight of the two of you sitting together. You smiled and let out a small laugh as you responded.

“Well I have to say, I’m quite flattered. Surprised, but flattered. Zoro is nice to stay with.”

Your voice felt like the greatest of songs, and it only made Zoro’s heart beat faster.

“Wooo wooo!” Usopp cooed, pounding on the table as he did so. “Do I hear a confession in here? Zoro what do you have to say? Isn’t she nice to stay with? Come on just say the magic L word!”

He was so engulfed in his thoughts and the desire to slash Usopp in half, that he did not feel Chopper creep on his lap.

“Your heart is beating really fast right now!” the reindeer said in Zoro’s ear, trying not to embarrass him too much as Usopp was already talking about planning a future wedding.

“Because you guys are giving me a headache”, he angrily uttered, suddenly getting up and leaving the table, not noticing the sad look in your eyes as he turned his back, not looking at you.

After these milestones only a fool would try to deny the blatant truth.

And after the Sabaody incident, only a masochist would refrain and hide these feelings away.

But with Roronoa Zoro, nothing is easier than sweeping his feelings under the rug of Mihawke’s manor.

Nervertheless, being separated from you for those two years only left him with thoughts of you mingling with the ones he felt of guilt. Were you alive? Did you get Luffy’s message? Where were you training? Who were you with? Will you come back to him?

In his quest of longing to be the strongest, he got even more confident, if that could happen. Not only would he never let anything happen to the crew again thanks to his new found abilities, but he swore he won’t let you in any form of danger. Yet, he claims it to himself that protecting you is only his “swordsman way”. Nothing more.

He waited for the day of the reunion with a lot of excitement. Seeing Luffy and Chopper again, sailing the seas to prove himself to the world. He would not say it aloud, but he missed everyone. Yet, his heart led to an unusual feeling. His chest felt knotted. Was it fear? Anxiety? Regret? He caught himself thinking about many scenarios that did not make sense, nonsense he would have smacked someone’s head for. What if you decided to leave the crew and stay where you were? What if you forgot about him, since his past relationship with you failed to be the most intimate one? What if you hated him and thought of him as weak? What if he never saw you again?

Why does it matter, anyway.

The D-Day was approaching, and Zoro’s questions only grew more and more.

And as the Day finally arrived, he looked at the Sabaody scenery and let out a deep sigh, but the small smile on his lips never left. Each step he took were different from those he took two years ago: he was determined, stronger.

He would not admit it to himself, but he was worried you won’t show up to the ship. He also was worried he won’t be able to talk to you like he wished to.

During his walk to find the Sunny, he stumbled across the last person he wanted to see first.

THE COOK, SANJI VINSMOKE

Even though Zoro disliked the cook, he had to admit he was reassured to see his fellow comrade in good shape. But that feeling quickly faded the second the Cook started speaking.

“And here I thought a musclehead like you couldn’t understand nor form a sentence.”

“And here I thought you might have learnt to use twizzlers in those two years but well. Nothing’s new here.”

The pair had no choice but to walk together, which surprisingly led to somewhat of a conversation, even though neither looked at the other. Zoro was walking with his bag over his shoulder while Sanji smoked his cigarette.

“So you trained with Ivankov?”

“I tried to escape everytime which turned out well. I can fly now with my technique, which I’m sure (Y/N)-chwan would love! Think about it, this could be really useful in defense combat. I will be useful for (Y/N)-chwaaan, and Nami-chwaaan and Robin-chwaaan.” The cook chanted, only to earn Zoro’s deep and usual silence, which lasted for what seemed to be a while.

In spite of being used to Zoro’s quietness and awkward silence, the cook noticed the sudden shift in his behavior once your name was mentioned. Call him curious or accuse him of having a death wish, but he decided to break the ice.

“Hey, mosshead.”

The swordsman did not bother to answer and kept on walking.

“Did you miss anyone in particular during those two years?”

“Yes, my hammock.” he quickly answered, his usual sass coming back as a defense mechanism Sanji swore not to fall for this time.

“See?” Sanji said, pointing his cigarette towards his crewmate, still walking. “That’s exactly why no one wants to approach you. You’re brute. How do you expect people to let you in if you don’t let them in in the first place?”

“Who said I wanted to let any people in? I don’t care about people.”

“You know who I’m talking about here. I have eyes. We all have eyes.”

“Technically Brook doesn’t and I only have one left.” he corrected, looking at the cook’s annoyed face with his good eye. “And for the reminder, I can understand sentences just fine, you talked about people, not (Y/N).”

Sanji smirked: the cook had won.

“Indeed. I never talked about beautiful (Y/N). You just did, though." he cockily pointed. "If I were you, which I’m not thank God, I would take her hand, squeeze it and tell her a poem. That’s it if you can read.”

“Tsk.”

Sanji lit himself another cigarette to savor his small victory. Zoro bit the inside of his cheek and averted his gaze to the scenery around him again.

Did he just tell the cook about you? When he was talking about “letting people in”? He would lie if he said he did not want you to let him in. He thought you were a strong woman with admirative skills. He thought you were kind and caring, with a high sense of ethics and fairness. He thought you were beautiful. You were his ideal, the sole reason why he never bothered looking at women before.

But why would someone like you let someone like him, in? Sanji was right: he was a brute. And spending time with his swords medidating for two years did not make him a social animal. He lacked Usopp’s ease or Luffy’s communicative smile. He lacked Sanji’s ability to compliment women or make them feel beautiful. Hell, he remembers his conversation with Nami like it was yesterday: you thought he hated you.

Would it be unfair for a brute like him to long for someone like you? Does he have the right to hold these feelings? Is he allowed to share them to you?

The poor boy did not have time to find his answer that Luffy had found them.

He would soon see you. He felt it. And by that time, he better come up with something other than “Hi”.

When they arrived to the ship alongside their Captain, everyone was already here waiting for them.

Including you.

Before fully looking at you, Chopper jumped on him, crying his heart out from having missing him too much. Unfortunately for him, the swordsman did not pay attention to all his ranting as you approached to enthusiastically hug Luffy, Sanji, and him.

Because of the awkward position he was in with Chopper, you gently wrapped your arms around the small reindeer and told them both how happy you were to see them. And because of his cute comrade, he did not have the chance to say “Hi”.

He missed his opportunity, the chance to finally let you in.

Perhaps it is better this way.

Everyone climbed onto the ship, ready to celebrate the reunion, and even though the best sake was provided, Zoro quickly walked to a small and intimate area: his crow nest.

THE STRATEGIST, (YOUR NAME) ♡

Two years without seeing your friends were long to pass, without hearing their laughters and benters, their antics and adventures. Even though you joined the crew at later times before being teleported by Kuma, you dearly loved each crewmate and felt apart of a big family.

During those two years, you sometimes caught yourself thinking about the swordsman. To say the green-haired figure rarely talked to you would be an understatement, and you never understood why. You never were mean to him, you let him nap during night watch, you poured him lemonade, smiled at him each time he would look at you.

You admired his strength, his determination, his oath to become the best in his craft. You were honored to conceive combat strategies that would enhance his abilities and show them to the world.

He was the legend to the story you were writing. The hero.

It would be lying to say you did not fancy the swordsman. He was handsome, peaceful, intelligent when in need, and reassuring. He was confident, opinionated and reliable.

Your heartbeat grew faster as you saw him walking towards the ship with Sanji and the captain. He looked even taller than in your memories, and even more built. His hair seemed softer, and his voice much huskier. Your heart ached when you noticed he had lost an eye.

But because everyone was around, you could not possibly go to him and cry your eyes out as you talked about his injury. Instead, and because you were so happy to see everyone, you decided to go for a small hug, hopping it would offer you both a fresh start.

After the feast following your reunion, you noticed Zoro walking out to his favorite spot. Pretending to be in need of the ladies room, you decided to follow the swordsman to the crows nest, set on trying to finally, communicate with the future best swordsman on the Planet.

When Zoro heard someone going up the crows nest, he did not pay attention. For this once, would he allow someone to go up unannounced.

“Pardon me Zoro!” you said while climbing, breaking his composure. Out of everyone he thought would come up tonight, he never thought it would be you. He could not even figure out what to come up with first as he saw the top of your head from the top of the ladder and your adorable eyes peeking up to him.

You waited to have fully climbed the ladder before talking.

“Hi, I hope I’m not bothering.” You gently said with a radiant smile on your face, standing in front of him in your newest outfit. He felt ashamed for not taking in all the details of your new attire earlier under the sunlight, from the way it hugged your form to the way the color compliments your eyes.

“Actually, I’ve never been up here before.. it looks.. nice?” you said, your eyes going from the surroundings of his room to his good eye.

He looks handsome.

She looks gorgeous.

“Then what are you doing here now?” Zoro responded, harsher than what he intended. He instantly regretted his sentence and his tone. These were so distant from what he felt.

His words sent shivers down your spine and made you gasp a little, slowly looking down to your feet in embarrassment.

He looked down at you with his good eye and quickly shook his hands.

“N-No (Y/N) this is so not what I meant. Gosh now I understand why Sanji said I was a brute and Nami said you hated me.”

“What? Nami said I hated you?” you asked, your head going back up and looking at him with concern. “I could never hate you Zoro! Why would she say something like this?”

“N-No!” he said, trying to correct his wording, again, but it seemed harder after hearing what you felt about him.

You could never hate him.

“I mean, she said you thought I hated you. No wonder why you think that, I’m a brute.”

In spite of his awkward phrases, you let out a small giggle. His tan face was tainted with shades of a dusty shy pink, and his good eye was desperately trying to connect with yours. Maybe if you would look at him for just long enough, he would not have to say a thing.

You walked closer to him, trying to pierce what his eye was begging to tell you. You could feel the shift in the air, the tension building high. Your voice, soft as silk and sweet as honey, asked.

“So, Zoro, do you hate me?”

The question sent him in a trance. In his mind, he told you a hundred times about how beautiful you looked and how admirative he was of your work on the ship. In his mind, he told the world and the stars a hundred times about his will to protect you and be the strongest.

His body ached to be closer to yours. It was only the two of you, and it seemed so natural. So real. He slowly inched closer to you, his overpowering frame letting yours aware of his presence and scent. Wood and peppermint.

Crossing his arms and closing his eyes, faking tiredness, hoping his demeanor would hide the shyness away, he bluntly stated:

“I could never hate you, (Y/N).”

Five words. These five words alone lifted a whole weight off your shoulders. Slightly blushing from his statement and the proximity you two were in, in what seemed like a forbidden whisper, you said, gently touching his hand.

“I… I should probably go downstairs. The others are going to wonder why I’m taking so long to get you to drink sake with us. They’ll think you got sober.”

Zoro slightly scoffed and nodded, his eyes never leaving the tenderness of your touch on his large hand.

“Promise me you’ll come back later. Just you.”

His wish was spoken with such adoration and secrecy, you won’t ever refuse. But teasing the swordsman seemed a little more fun.

“By later, do you mean in two years? Who knows maybe by that time you’d have lost your other eye.”

Zoro laughed a little, gently squeezing your hand like an oath spoken just for the two of you.

“Like I would ever let you go again for so long, idiot.”

[gravehags]

it's close to midnight

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: halloween fic a few days late, emeritus family trauma, terzo being a little shit, everybody being dumbasses, be kind this is the first thing i've written in a long time

Words: 1,481

Summary: Erzebet. Celeste. Alessia. Their names are burned into your mind.

a/n: i just think the emeritus brothers can be sad as a treat. eat up.

~~~

“Please don’t tell me that’s what I know it is.”

You’re gesturing towards Terzo’s pumpkin carving, looking tired beyond your years. With a haughty sniff he hides it from your view.

“I don’t expect you to understand high art,” he says snottily, causing all three of his brothers to look at him disbelievingly.

“Idiota, that’s literally her job,” Secondo snarls, flinging pumpkin guts across the table.

The song coming from the portable speakers fades out and the bombastic opening notes of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” invade the space. 

“Speaking of jobs,” Terzo continues in his catty tone, “who the fuck put this playlist together? “Thriller”? For Halloween? Groundbreaking.”

“Me, bitch,” you snap and before Copia or Primo can reach to stop you, you’ve taken a wad of pumpkin innards and slapped it on the top of Terzo’s head, making sure to mush it in real good. You swear you see tears well in his eyes as he lets out a horrified wail and dashes out of the room to Primo’s bathroom to wash it out.

“Well done, amore,” Copia murmurs, nudging you with his elbow. His two older brothers nod appreciatively from their side of the table.

“You know I’m surprised I managed to convince all of you to ditch the Halloween gala this year,” you say as you carve, “Kinda feels like something the Papas and the number one Cardinal should be at, no?”

Secondo waves dismissively.

“It’s the same old shit, every year. The same fawning siblings and clergy, the same shitty punch spiked by Terzo. The best part of last year’s event was seeing you and this one–” he jerks his head towards Copia, “--attempt to flirt. Oh, and seeing you in that costume you wore.”

You blush and scoff but Copia frowns deeply and gives his brother a look, who simply shrugs back at him.

“We’d much rather spend such a sacred day with you, fiore mio. And if it means we don’t have to put on a papal performance, so much the better.”

“What are you all talking about?”

Terzo returns to the room, his hair soaking wet and when he leans over you and shakes like a dog, you let out an undignified squawk.

“Fuck off, dollar store Bela Lugosi,” you growl, smacking him repeatedly in the arm as he resumes his seat at the table.

“I’d take offense but that actually might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, sorellina.”

Copia looks at his watch and his eyes dart to each of his brothers.

“Almost midnight,” he says softly, and the tone immediately has you looking at him with curiosity.

Primo grunts, setting his carving tool down and stretching.

“What happens at midnight?” you whisper to Copia. He doesn’t respond, but instead looks to each of his brothers as if seeking their approval for something.

“How would you like to meet our mothers, sorella?” Secondo asks, and Copia’s shoulders drop with relief. You’re taken aback.

“I…I thought–”

“Come along,” Primo says, walking over and gently urging you up out of your chair, “and wear your coat.”

You follow him out the door of his quarters, as Secondo and Copia trail behind you. Terzo lingers at the back, and you can see him gathering something in his arms. As your group shuffles down the corridors, there’s a reverent hush that lingers amongst you. Copia grabs your hand and briefly raises it to his lips, giving you a small smile. You’re dying to ask him for details but your desire to remain respectful about…whatever the hell is happening…leaves you quiet. When you exit a large door into the biting damp cold of the dark outdoors, you link arms with your beloved and pull him close.

“Just a little bit further,” he murmurs into your hair before placing a kiss on the top of your head. Lanterns have been placed all along the pathway you walk and when a group of darkened stone monuments come into view, it all becomes clear. 

“Hello, mama,” Primo says with the voice of a much, much younger man. Grouped together in a semi-circle stand three ornately carved marble tombs, presided over by a statue of who you can only assume is Lillith with outstretched arms. Terzo sidles past you to place large candles where the names of the women are carved. Secondo takes his vintage zippo lighter out of his coat pocket and tosses it at his younger brother.

“I…I didn’t even know these graves were out here,” you admit, sniffling slightly in the cold. Gently, you lower yourself to plop down on the wet grass. “Will you tell me about them?”

The brothers beam at you, then at Copia, before Primo speaks.

“My mother’s name was Erzebet,” he begins, “she was the last of a dwindling line of nobles from the Carpathian Mountains. Her marriage to…that man was arranged. She hated him but bore her responsibilities - and his child - all the same. I was fortunate to spend my childhood with her in her family home while Nihil absconded off on whatever dalliance he was amusing himself with that week. I don’t think she wanted me to join the Ministry - I think she was always worried it would turn me into my father. She…she did not handle me leaving well. She was put into an institution - no one in the clergy would ever tell me where no matter how insistent I was. After she died I was able to learn where they kept her - and I had her body moved out of that grave with simply a number on it…to here. Where her only child could bring her the most beautiful of flowers. Dahlias are her favorite.”

You don’t even know what to say to this revelation, but the way Primo’s tone cracked on his final word has your heart plummeting into your stomach. You have so many questions but you bottle them up for a later time, instead choosing to reach across the space to take Primo’s long, aged hand in yours.

“She sounds wonderful. She must have been to have a son like you.”

He smiles at you, painfully soft, and you dutifully look away as he wipes his cheeks with the back of his hand. 

“We won’t tell all their sad stories tonight,” Secondo murmurs, “I’m sure you can deduce the common denominator and it is far too cold and tonight is for celebration.”

“Tell me their names, at least. Tell me something about them.” you sniffle, leaning into Copia’s side.

“Celeste. She was an artist.”

“Alessia. An actress.”

“To Erzebet, Celeste, and Alessia, then,” you say, “May they know peace in their afterlives and may they be proud at raising such fine sons, all. And…” your voice lowers, tone darkens, “know that I mean it when I say this but…say the word. Say the word and I’ll end him.”

A hush descends upon the brothers.

“You’re not joking, are you sorellina?” Terzo murmurs, looking at you curiously.

“For what he did to them? To all of you? Say less.”

Copia squeezes your hand and gives you an intense look before standing with a grunt and reaching down to you to help you up.

“If he continues to make shitty comments about my mustache at staff meetings, I might eh, take you up on that, amore. Seriously, how long have I had this thing? Does he forget about it after every time he sees me?”

The four of you stretch and groan after getting off the ground.

“Come on, let's all thaw out inside and listen to more of our sorellina’s horrible Halloween playlist.”

You and Terzo begin loudly bickering as you leave the cemetery, giving Copia a chance to linger behind with Primo and Secondo.

“I understand you want to take this relationship slow,” Secondo begins, voice low, “but boy, if you don’t marry that woman I will.”

Copia laughs softly through his nose and nods.

“All in good time. But eh, she likes men with hair so I think Primo and Terzo have a leg up on you in that regard.”

Secondo sputters with outrage before calling out to you.

“Piccolina! My brother and his shitty mustache just told me you don’t like bald men! Che cazzo?”

You’re puzzled, standing in the doorway looking at each brother.

“Copia, why are you lying to him? We've been over this before - if you die, Secondo inherits me, then Primo, then Terzo. Stop trying to stir shit!”

“‘Inherits’ her? Like an antique armoire?”

The Cardinal sighs deeply, trying his best to ignore the viciously smug look on Secondo’s face.

“Can we just go back to carving pumpkins? And Terzo, we are not putting yours out for display.”

“Oh, you don’t like the self portrait of my—”

You shove him into the wall and he yelps.

“This is why you’re last on the inheritance list.”

“Merda.” 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How to design a tech regulation

TONIGHT (June 20) I'm live onstage in LOS ANGELES for a recording of the GO FACT YOURSELF podcast. TOMORROW (June 21) I'm doing an ONLINE READING for the LOCUS AWARDS at 16hPT. On SATURDAY (June 22) I'll be in OAKLAND, CA for a panel (13hPT) and a keynote (18hPT) at the LOCUS AWARDS.

It's not your imagination: tech really is underregulated. There are plenty of avoidable harms that tech visits upon the world, and while some of these harms are mere negligence, others are self-serving, creating shareholder value and widespread public destruction.

Making good tech policy is hard, but not because "tech moves too fast for regulation to keep up with," nor because "lawmakers are clueless about tech." There are plenty of fast-moving areas that lawmakers manage to stay abreast of (think of the rapid, global adoption of masking and social distancing rules in mid-2020). Likewise we generally manage to make good policy in areas that require highly specific technical knowledge (that's why it's noteworthy and awful when, say, people sicken from badly treated tapwater, even though water safety, toxicology and microbiology are highly technical areas outside the background of most elected officials).

That doesn't mean that technical rigor is irrelevant to making good policy. Well-run "expert agencies" include skilled practitioners on their payrolls – think here of large technical staff at the FTC, or the UK Competition and Markets Authority's best-in-the-world Digital Markets Unit:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/13/kitbashed/#app-store-tax

The job of government experts isn't just to research the correct answers. Even more important is experts' role in evaluating conflicting claims from interested parties. When administrative agencies make new rules, they have to collect public comments and counter-comments. The best agencies also hold hearings, and the very best go on "listening tours" where they invite the broad public to weigh in (the FTC has done an awful lot of these during Lina Khan's tenure, to its benefit, and it shows):

https://www.ftc.gov/news-events/events/2022/04/ftc-justice-department-listening-forum-firsthand-effects-mergers-acquisitions-health-care

But when an industry dwindles to a handful of companies, the resulting cartel finds it easy to converge on a single talking point and to maintain strict message discipline. This means that the evidentiary record is starved for disconfirming evidence that would give the agencies contrasting perspectives and context for making good policy.

Tech industry shills have a favorite tactic: whenever there's any proposal that would erode the industry's profits, self-serving experts shout that the rule is technically impossible and deride the proposer as "clueless."

This tactic works so well because the proposers sometimes are clueless. Take Europe's on-again/off-again "chat control" proposal to mandate spyware on every digital device that will screen everything you upload for child sex abuse material (CSAM, better known as "child pornography"). This proposal is profoundly dangerous, as it will weaken end-to-end encryption, the key to all secure and private digital communication:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/article/2024/jun/18/encryption-is-deeply-threatening-to-power-meredith-whittaker-of-messaging-app-signal

It's also an impossible-to-administer mess that incorrectly assumes that killing working encryption in the two mobile app stores run by the mobile duopoly will actually prevent bad actors from accessing private tools:

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/09/04/oh-for-fucks-sake-not-this-fucking-bullshit-again-cryptography-edition/

When technologists correctly point out the lack of rigor and catastrophic spillover effects from this kind of crackpot proposal, lawmakers stick their fingers in their ears and shout "NERD HARDER!"

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/01/12/nerd-harder-fbi-director-reiterates-faith-based-belief-in-working-crypto-that-he-can-break/

But this is only half the story. The other half is what happens when tech industry shills want to kill good policy proposals, which is the exact same thing that advocates say about bad ones. When lawmakers demand that tech companies respect our privacy rights – for example, by splitting social media or search off from commercial surveillance, the same people shout that this, too, is technologically impossible.

That's a lie, though. Facebook started out as the anti-surveillance alternative to Myspace. We know it's possible to operate Facebook without surveillance, because Facebook used to operate without surveillance:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362

Likewise, Brin and Page's original Pagerank paper, which described Google's architecture, insisted that search was incompatible with surveillance advertising, and Google established itself as a non-spying search tool:

http://infolab.stanford.edu/pub/papers/google.pdf

Even weirder is what happens when there's a proposal to limit a tech company's power to invoke the government's powers to shut down competitors. Take Ethan Zuckerman's lawsuit to strip Facebook of the legal power to sue people who automate their browsers to uncheck the millions of boxes that Facebook requires you to click by hand in order to unfollow everyone:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/02/kaiju-v-kaiju/#cda-230-c-2-b

Facebook's apologists have lost their minds over this, insisting that no one can possibly understand the potential harms of taking away Facebook's legal right to decide how your browser works. They take the position that only Facebook can understand when it's safe and proportional to use Facebook in ways the company didn't explicitly design for, and that they should be able to ask the government to fine or even imprison people who fail to defer to Facebook's decisions about how its users configure their computers.

This is an incredibly convenient position, since it arrogates to Facebook the right to order the rest of us to use our computers in the ways that are most beneficial to its shareholders. But Facebook's apologists insist that they are not motivated by parochial concerns over the value of their stock portfolios; rather, they have objective, technical concerns, that no one except them is qualified to understand or comment on.

There's a great name for this: "scalesplaining." As in "well, actually the platforms are doing an amazing job, but you can't possibly understand that because you don't work for them." It's weird enough when scalesplaining is used to condemn sensible regulation of the platforms; it's even weirder when it's weaponized to defend a system of regulatory protection for the platforms against would-be competitors.

Just as there are no atheists in foxholes, there are no libertarians in government-protected monopolies. Somehow, scalesplaining can be used to condemn governments as incapable of making any tech regulations and to insist that regulations that protect tech monopolies are just perfect and shouldn't ever be weakened. Truly, it's impossible to get someone to understand something when the value of their employee stock options depends on them not understanding it.

None of this is to say that every tech regulation is a good one. Governments often propose bad tech regulations (like chat control), or ones that are technologically impossible (like Article 17 of the EU's 2019 Digital Single Markets Directive, which requires tech companies to detect and block copyright infringements in their users' uploads).

But the fact that scalesplainers use the same argument to criticize both good and bad regulations makes the waters very muddy indeed. Policymakers are rightfully suspicious when they hear "that's not technically possible" because they hear that both for technically impossible proposals and for proposals that scalesplainers just don't like.

After decades of regulations aimed at making platforms behave better, we're finally moving into a new era, where we just make the platforms less important. That is, rather than simply ordering Facebook to block harassment and other bad conduct by its users, laws like the EU's Digital Markets Act will order Facebook and other VLOPs (Very Large Online Platforms, my favorite EU-ism ever) to operate gateways so that users can move to rival services and still communicate with the people who stay behind.

Think of this like number portability, but for digital platforms. Just as you can switch phone companies and keep your number and hear from all the people you spoke to on your old plan, the DMA will make it possible for you to change online services but still exchange messages and data with all the people you're already in touch with.

I love this idea, because it finally grapples with the question we should have been asking all along: why do people stay on platforms where they face harassment and bullying? The answer is simple: because the people – customers, family members, communities – we connect with on the platform are so important to us that we'll tolerate almost anything to avoid losing contact with them:

https://locusmag.com/2023/01/commentary-cory-doctorow-social-quitting/

Platforms deliberately rig the game so that we take each other hostage, locking each other into their badly moderated cesspits by using the love we have for one another as a weapon against us. Interoperability – making platforms connect to each other – shatters those locks and frees the hostages:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

But there's another reason to love interoperability (making moderation less important) over rules that require platforms to stamp out bad behavior (making moderation better). Interop rules are much easier to administer than content moderation rules, and when it comes to regulation, administratability is everything.

The DMA isn't the EU's only new rule. They've also passed the Digital Services Act, which is a decidedly mixed bag. Among its provisions are a suite of rules requiring companies to monitor their users for harmful behavior and to intervene to block it. Whether or not you think platforms should do this, there's a much more important question: how can we enforce this rule?

Enforcing a rule requiring platforms to prevent harassment is very "fact intensive." First, we have to agree on a definition of "harassment." Then we have to figure out whether something one user did to another satisfies that definition. Finally, we have to determine whether the platform took reasonable steps to detect and prevent the harassment.

Each step of this is a huge lift, especially that last one, since to a first approximation, everyone who understands a given VLOP's server infrastructure is a partisan, scalesplaining engineer on the VLOP's payroll. By the time we find out whether the company broke the rule, years will have gone by, and millions more users will be in line to get justice for themselves.

So allowing users to leave is a much more practical step than making it so that they've got no reason to want to leave. Figuring out whether a platform will continue to forward your messages to and from the people you left there is a much simpler technical matter than agreeing on what harassment is, whether something is harassment by that definition, and whether the company was negligent in permitting harassment.

But as much as I like the DMA's interop rule, I think it is badly incomplete. Given that the tech industry is so concentrated, it's going to be very hard for us to define standard interop interfaces that don't end up advantaging the tech companies. Standards bodies are extremely easy for big industry players to capture:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/30/weak-institutions/

If tech giants refuse to offer access to their gateways to certain rivals because they seem "suspicious," it will be hard to tell whether the companies are just engaged in self-serving smears against a credible rival, or legitimately trying to protect their users from a predator trying to plug into their infrastructure. These fact-intensive questions are the enemy of speedy, responsive, effective policy administration.

But there's more than one way to attain interoperability. Interop doesn't have to come from mandates, interfaces designed and overseen by government agencies. There's a whole other form of interop that's far nimbler than mandates: adversarial interoperability:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

"Adversarial interoperability" is a catch-all term for all the guerrilla warfare tactics deployed in service to unilaterally changing a technology: reverse engineering, bots, scraping and so on. These tactics have a long and honorable history, but they have been slowly choked out of existence with a thicket of IP rights, like the IP rights that allow Facebook to shut down browser automation tools, which Ethan Zuckerman is suing to nullify:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Adversarial interop is very flexible. No matter what technological moves a company makes to interfere with interop, there's always a countermove the guerrilla fighter can make – tweak the scraper, decompile the new binary, change the bot's behavior. That's why tech companies use IP rights and courts, not firewall rules, to block adversarial interoperators.

At the same time, adversarial interop is unreliable. The solution that works today can break tomorrow if the company changes its back-end, and it will stay broken until the adversarial interoperator can respond.

But when companies are faced with the prospect of extended asymmetrical war against adversarial interop in the technological trenches, they often surrender. If companies can't sue adversarial interoperators out of existence, they often sue for peace instead. That's because high-tech guerrilla warfare presents unquantifiable risks and resource demands, and, as the scalesplainers never tire of telling us, this can create real operational problems for tech giants.

In other words, if Facebook can't shut down Ethan Zuckerman's browser automation tool in the courts, and if they're sincerely worried that a browser automation tool will uncheck its user interface buttons so quickly that it crashes the server, all it has to do is offer an official "unsubscribe all" button and no one will use Zuckerman's browser automation tool.

We don't have to choose between adversarial interop and interop mandates. The two are better together than they are apart. If companies building and operating DMA-compliant, mandatory gateways know that a failure to make them useful to rivals seeking to help users escape their authority is getting mired in endless hand-to-hand combat with trench-fighting adversarial interoperators, they'll have good reason to cooperate.

And if lawmakers charged with administering the DMA notice that companies are engaging in adversarial interop rather than using the official, reliable gateway they're overseeing, that's a good indicator that the official gateways aren't suitable.

It would be very on-brand for the EU to create the DMA and tell tech companies how they must operate, and for the USA to simply withdraw the state's protection from the Big Tech companies and let smaller companies try their luck at hacking new features into the big companies' servers without the government getting involved.

Indeed, we're seeing some of that today. Oregon just passed the first ever Right to Repair law banning "parts pairing" – basically a way of using IP law to make it illegal to reverse-engineer a device so you can fix it.

https://www.opb.org/article/2024/03/28/oregon-governor-kotek-signs-strong-tech-right-to-repair-bill/

Taken together, the two approaches – mandates and reverse engineering – are stronger than either on their own. Mandates are sturdy and reliable, but slow-moving. Adversarial interop is flexible and nimble, but unreliable. Put 'em together and you get a two-part epoxy, strong and flexible.

Governments can regulate well, with well-funded expert agencies and smart, adminstratable remedies. It's for that reason that the administrative state is under such sustained attack from the GOP and right-wing Dems. The illegitimate Supreme Court is on the verge of gutting expert agencies' power:

https://www.hklaw.com/en/insights/publications/2024/05/us-supreme-court-may-soon-discard-or-modify-chevron-deference

It's never been more important to craft regulations that go beyond mere good intentions and take account of adminsitratability. The easier we can make our rules to enforce, the less our beleaguered agencies will need to do to protect us from corporate predators.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/20/scalesplaining/#administratability

Image: Noah Wulf (modified) https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thunderbirds_at_Attention_Next_to_Thunderbird_1_-_Aviation_Nation_2019.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[armpirate]

Disturbs on the 3rd floor (Part 2) | Jungkook

Part 1

pairing: Boxer!JK x fem!reader || Neighbors, enemies to lovers

w.c.: 5.2k

Warnings: Illegal boxing, violence, blood, blood licking, smut, male and female masturbation, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk.

Summary: You tried to avoid him as much as possible after the last time you saw each other. Although you two ended up meeting at the least expected place.

Aprox. time of reading: 23 minutes

The loud screams that came from the editor's office made your heads turn towards the closed door, seeing through the shades that covered the windows how he exaggeratedly gesticulated with every single word he dropped, while one of your colleagues just kept his eyes fixed on the floor. 

It had been a long morning. It seemed like it'd never end. 

Usually, you all would fight to get the best reportage or get the most juicy news for the newspaper. But that day it was like the universe didn't want either of you fighting over anything, done with the complaints of favoritism, before a chain of big events dropped in a span of a few days. 

Elections, manifestations, World Guinness Records, a celeb's scandal... And somehow, you still managed to get the article that would make no one move. Covering up illegal fights was not only dangerous, but also something that people would read through with the least interest. "Oh, wow, some people are doing something that doesn't affect me at all. Let me pretend to be concerned about it, before I jump to the sports section". It was always like that with that type of article, and you knew it'd be a waste of energy and time. 

Either way, you still managed to get one of your sources to tell you the place where the fights would take place that week. And you'd go there as soon as your shift ended. It wasn't like you needed any big tools, or cameras, you'd do fine with your phone and your own eyes. 

You were already warned that it was a dangerous place, where there were all types of men, except good guys. Boxers went from street fighters to owners of gyms to gain investments from the rich men and gangsters that showed up there for fun, and the fights were almost lethal -always leaving one of the fighters unconscious or close to death. And that made you wonder if it was actually worth it for them to risk their lives and healths, just to entertain the big guys in the city. 

You gulped when you saw there wasn't a lot of control to get inside. You guessed it was because not that many people would know about it, nor would be interested enough in it to get to the other side of the bridge just to see a few guys fighting. The fair amount of people that went there knew what they'd come across to, and knew it was either to bet money or to fight. There was no other choice. 

The smell was heavy. It wasn't like it was putrid, but you could tell apart the wetness coming from the cement of the old building. Suddenly, it felt uncomfortable walking around there, getting through some of the people that were surrounding the improvised boxing ring. But you still did it. Hiding your phone on your sleeve, enough to let your camera film everything that was going on, you also made sure to hide your face with the hood of your jacket. 

You kept walking through the people cheering for the two fighters to split each other's faces in half, making your way to the side of the place, feeling ready to breathe again as you stepped back from the crowd. Although your heart raced fast, as if it had received an electric shock, when you felt your hood being pulled back, discovering your head. 

"Hope you know you can't record here" a thick voice warned at your back. 

You were ready to reply to that accusation, hiding your phone deeper in your sleeve, as you turned on your tracks. Looking confused when you saw him in front of you. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook spoke first, face slowly going distraught.

"I could say the right same thing" you replied back, moving away from his grip. 

Jungkook sighed, looking away for a mini second before his eyes were back on you. Having to be there was bad enough, but having to see you there wasn't making things any better. His mind filled with the different ways he wanted to rail you whenever you came across each other in the elevator or in the corridor. You would only be a distraction if you stayed there. He didn't really want to know why you were there, and how you got to know about it all, he just wanted you to leave for his own sake. 

"Are you a cop?" he asked.

"It's not your business" you replied back.

He sighed exasperated, seeing how that conversation would take them nowhere. She wasn't going to give away her reason, so there was no point in arguing with her about it. 

"If you're smart, which after these weeks I doubt" he added, referencing the several encounters you've had ever since he moved in ", leave and delete whatever it is you've filmed. You don't wanna deal with the people here". 

"Jungkook, you're next" a tall man told him. 

He gave a quick look at Max, eyes dropping to you quickly before his lips twisted, and he tilted his head. "Do whatever the fuck you want".

Those were the last words he dedicated to you, before he walked past your body and disappeared among the crowd. It wasn't like you had much of a choice when it came to what you wanted to do. 

It was your job. And while you could've written some paragraphs describing what you saw, your perfectionist side would never forgive you for it, knowing you could top the final result by adding more to the story. 

The crowd was suddenly more invested in the upcoming fight, hearing the chants and growls as the two fighters were presented. Rodric "The Bully" Hatcher, and the Doberman of Busan. You rolled your eyes at them, going back at aiming the phone towards the ring's direction -while still doing your best at hiding it under your sleeve. 

If you thought you'd be able to get through the whole thing without flinching, you were wrong. Your body kept moving, surprised with every hit thrown, suddenly worried by the way the other boxers were attacking Jungkook like he owed his life to him. 

Soon, half of his face would be covered in blood that spilled down from his eyebrow and his broken lip. Jungkook fell a few times to the ground, always standing up after two or three seconds, that was what took him to regain some strength back. He only managed to fit some punches towards his blond opponent, but checking on you got him more distracted than he'd be in any other circumstance. 

Why the hell were you there exactly that day? 

His body fell flat on the ground when his head turned in your direction, seeing Jimmy -one of the men looking after the place-, grabbing you by the elbow and causing you to raise your voice over the several chants that were favoring Rodric at that point. 

The blond smiled, getting ready to give the final punch as he walked towards his body. Jungkook tried to stand up, or at least roll on the ground by himself, but his body seemed to reach a limit that night. Most parts of his body felt numb, only being aware of Rodric making him lie on his back. 

The devil seemed to be on his side that day though, seeing everyone panicking around him when the place was suddenly lighted by blue and red lights, along with several cops telling everyone to stay still in their places. 

His back collided against the ground again, when Rodric let go of him, not without promising the next time he wouldn't be as lucky. He didn't expect the night to end as bad when he received the text for the fight, but there he was: lying on the ground and getting ready to be arrested and taken to the police station. 

Someone did pull his body up, hooking their arms under his armpits until they were standing. "We need to leave" that female voice...

Jungkook managed to open his plump eyes, looking down to see you dragging him to the nearest exit. He for sure didn't know how you made it to get rid of Jimmy -although he guessed once the cops showed up, you were the least of his problems-, or how you dodged the cops. But he was glad you did. 

While he looked conscious from the outside, it actually seemed like his body was moving automatically, following your guidance and doing what felt right. He wasn't even aware of how fast you drove from the center to your house until you dropped his body over your couch abruptly, making him moan while he closed his eyes. 

You could've left him on his doorstep until he regained some consciousness back, and you'd be lying if you had said you didn't feel tempted to, but you still allowed him to step inside your place. 

Moving your fingers carefully over his arm, you started removing the bandage that were covering his hands, setting him free from the tight knots until he spoke. "I can do that myself".

"Fine" you dropped his hand hard over his thigh, getting a low groan from him "Do it yourself".

Although you were annoyed, you still moved around your place, trying to get the few things you had to cure the wounds on his face. You looked after him, but it didn't mean you didn't use it to your advantage either. He hissed, squirmed and moved his head away every time you pressed hard on the places you wanted to heal, finding some joy in his pissed off expression. You also handed him some ice cubes covered in a rag, ignoring his stretched hand to press directly on the wound on his eyebrow until you saw him holding it. 

He looked around your place, finding the similarities in structure, but seeing it completely different from his own place. Your house seemed cozy, ready to bring calmness to anyone who stepped inside. Your furniture was also black and white, but the different accessories over them created a huge change. Like the thick purple blanket that was over the backrest of your couch on his side, or the big world map that was over his head. You even had pictures displayed over the cabinet next to your door, and a jar filled with bright pink flowers. 

Just like he expected, your house was as feminine and delicate as you seemed. 

His head moved in your direction again when he heard you hissing and huffing. You looked at the broken screen, cursing at that man who dropped your phone against the floor when he caught you. At least you'd be able to use the videos and pictures it took you so long to get, but you'd have to repair the screen or get a new phone. And both options were too expensive to think about lightly. 

"Look at what you did" Jungkook frowned at your accusation.

"Me? I already told you not to film there".

"If you hadn't reached out to me, and shouted how I should stop filming, no one else would've noticed" you dropped the phone over the coffee table. 

"Sure, because you were so good at pretending you were doing nothing suspicious..." he squinted his eyes. "Who else would've thought this" Jungkook lifted his right hand at the level of his chest, in the most unnatural posture ever "was suspicious if it hadn't been for me". 

Jungkook dropped the rag over the couch, finally standing up to confront you. 

"I'm the one who should be mad. Look at my face" he pointed at it with his two index "If you had stopped recording when I told you, I would've been able to focus on my fight". 

"I didn't ask you to focus on me" you replied back. "Oh, also..."

Jungkook looked confused when you crossed your living room, opening one of the drawers of the furniture next to your table and seeing you walking back to him. 

"I also didn't ask for your eighty dollars" you handed him the money.

"It was my fault you got stuck outside".

"It wasn't, I should've checked first" she sighed "I don't want your money, and you didn't need to make up for shit" you left the money in front of him at the coffee table. 

"But you still blamed me for your broken phone" he replied.

You sighed, looking down at your phone when you realized the argument with Jungkook would take you nowhere. It didn't matter if you had to buy a new phone, because you'd probably be able to opt for better articles and more recognition after you posted your reportage. The screen suddenly went dark before you could even enter the gallery, going completely useless although the battery was at fifty per cent still. 

"No" you whined "No, no, no, no, no".

Not like it would change a thing, but you let out your desperation, while moving your thumb over the screen, trying to get a reaction. You gasped, and cracked a whine, dropping the phone from your hands when you felt your fingerprint being sliced.

It wasn't a deep cut, you definitely wouldn't lose your finger. It was more the type of cut you get with a sheet of paper, but it still was bothersome and some blood started to leak. 

You didn't know when Jungkook stood up from the couch and walked over to you, but you heard his sigh over you, before he took your wrist and looked at the tiny and thin wound. You'd expect him to do anything, but your body froze when he raised your hand a bit more and wrapped his lips around your finger.

The tiniest bit of pain disappeared, because all your senses were too focused on the way his warm mouth felt around your finger, and how his slick tongue moved around softly. Your cheeks started to burn when his eyes sunken in yours, as if he were trying to read your thoughts. Not like they were too complicated to guess them though, your mind was filled with him. 

"Don't you know how dangerous it is to do that?" you tried to break off the moment.

Jungkook let go of your finger with a loud pop sound, smirking at you "What are you talking about now?".

"Licking someone you don't know's blood. I could be sick and...".

"Are you sick?" he raised his eyebrow.

"No" and you clearly weren't concerned about the consequences of what he did. You were more concerned over the effects he was having on you with that simple action.

"Then what are you so worried about?" he rolled his eyes.

"I'm just trying to let you know that..." he interrupted you again.

"Fine" he nodded. "I'll lick something else instead".

While you were still trying to process what he meant, Jungkook pulled you by the neck, sucking onto your lower lip. You'd have wanted to push him away, but you knew you'd be banging yourself against the wall if you did, his lips felt way too good and spongy to let go of them. You lost yourself in the kiss as soon as his tongue sneaked in your mouth and your teeth slightly crashed against one another for less than a mini second. Too long gone to care how sloppy the kiss was, or how messy, your mind was only craving for his hands never leaving your body. 

Your heart shook in your chest when he gave you a second to breathe, before he pulled you back, grabbing your jaw tight.

You had only been kissing, but you swore you had never been more ready to be pinned against a bed and fucked until you forgot your own name. 

While Jungkook thought he had control over you by your neck, you sneaked your hand under his tank top, instantly making him groan when your cold hands got in contact with his warm skin. A metallic taste appeared on your tongue, and you weren't sure if the blood you were tasting was his or the remaining taste of your own, but it only encouraged you to move your hands lower on his torso, reaching down for his shorts. 

When you palmed him over the fabric, you could feel the shape of his growing bulge, nipples tightening under your bra just with the thought of how he'd look completely naked. And it seemed like he had the same doubt, because soon you stopped feeling his hand on your throat, to feel him unzipping your jeans and slipping them down. 

"Let me see those tits" he asked you, while you were kicking your pants away. 

Your rational size would've stopped you right then, but only you knew how bad you had been hoping for this ever since you met him for the first time. You allowed your mind to run wild every time you ran into each other. 

The ten seconds you were in the elevator were a fucking nightmare. 

His palm cupped your clothed pussy, groaning when he felt how wet and sticky your underwear was as he moved his fingers through your slit. Jungkook only moved his hand away when you folded your gray t-shirt over your breasts, exposing your black bra -that he didn't take long to move down, perked nipples almost begging for him to take them in his mouth. His mouth took one in, letting it get harder in his warmness, feeling how goof the hard tip fought against his flat tongue, before he let go of it with a loud sound and moved onto the other. 

Your fingers sinked in his hair, encouraging him to keep going, before you spit on your hand and moved back to the inside of his pants. His groan vibrated through your chest when you wrapped your fingers around him, quietly moving them up and down, feeling how thick and hard he was getting against your palm. 

"I really need to fuck you" he groaned, biting on your chest before he was towering over you again "I really, really need it".

You stood on your tiptoes, while your hands let go of him. Your lips rubbed against his, while your hands played with the elastic of your panties "Do it".

As you allowed those two words to fly in the air, you slipped your panties down your legs, kicking them away again. As if you had finally allowed him to set himself free, he lifted your body, having you instantly wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Put it in, angel" he asked you, holding you up in the air.

Redirecting his face by his nape, you linked your lips together, while your other hand managed to rub his tip on your entrance, having you two breaking the kiss and looking down when it was finally inside you. Jungkook moved you down his shaft, until your hips met and you felt him deep in your core. 

You helped him make those movements on you easier, bouncing your body up and down slowly, enjoying the way every inch felt when it was about to leave you, but suddenly hit against you again. You also knew your legs would feel sore as ever before, but it was totally worth it just by the look on his face whenever you squeezed him. His eyebrows suddenly frowned and his lips puckered, growling while he allowed you to work on his dick. 

He knew your hips were a menace whenever he took too long looking over the peephole of his door after he had to control himself, and not fuck you in the middle of the aisle, but he didn't know your whole body would be as dangerous -especially your eyes. You trapped him, and he knew it'd be over the second he made eye contact with you for longer than five seconds. 

Jungkook stopped your movements, lifting your body a bit more to hook your legs with his arms, blocking you to move again, just to be able to pound into you at his own pace, dick drilling in your core, trying different angles until he saw your eyes going blank and your grip on his shoulders got tighter. 

"How does it feel?" he groaned, smirking when all he was able to get from you was babbling "Look at you, you can't even say a word with how much you like talking".

You hugged him tight, trying to find something stable when you felt your blood started to heat up, slowly boiling as if you were ready to combust at any given time. He fucked you through your high, slowing his movements until he stopped completely.

"You look so hot when you cum" he hummed, kissing the middle of your throat.

Your lips were linked together again, moving slowly on each other, while Jungkook made his way intuitively to your bedroom. 

"Do you want to know when I look even hotter?" you whispered in his ear.

His eyes perked with curiosity, before you motioned him to leave you back on the ground. 

As you sat at the edge of the bed, he helped you take off your t-shirt and bra. Your fingers hooked on his shorts, pulling them down, while you bent over, licking his tip. Although it wasn't until you wrapped your lips around it, that you were able to taste you two mixed together. Your juices with his precum, and you found yourself more turned on about it than you should. 

The weight of his hand on the back of your head, and how his fingers tangled on your hair, got you looking up at him. The movements of your mouth got slower down his shaft, making sure he'd see how it disappeared through your lips.

"You do look hotter like this" he nodded, grinding his hips against your face. 

If there was something you disliked about sex, it was giving head. Usually, it was something you just did because the moment asked for it. But with Jungkook it felt different. Seeing the expression on his face, hearing the sounds that came from his mouth, the way he encouraged you to go on by softly caressing your scalp... You swore you could do that for hours if you were able to. 

He made you feel powerful and sexy.

Jungkook stopped your movements as soon as you increased the speed, moving your head back slightly. He smiled at your confused look, finding endearing how out of place you looked until he bent over.

"My turn" he whispered. "Lay on the bed" he pointed at the middle of the mattress, before he started taking off his tank top. 

You dragged your body over that spot, feeling the sheets wrinkling under you. He stood in front of you, completely naked, and seeing your perspective from your spread legs got you leaking for him again. 

"You're aware these walls are really thin, right?" he joined you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. 

Of course you know. If those walls weren't as thin, you two probably wouldn't have met each other the way you did.

"And I can hear absolutely everything" you frowned, confused of where he was taking the conversation, feeling his hands tracing the curves of your knees. "Especially when you touch yourself" he continued.

In any other circumstance, you probably would've been embarrassed by that comment. But that day, it only made your skin burn a bit more, waiting eagerly for him.

"That's why I want to show you I can do it better" he tilted his head, sliding his thumb through your slit. "Make your legs tremble, your ears ring and your throat hurt".

You held your breath when you felt his lips ghosting your soaked lips, the warm air coming from his mouth getting you ready for what was to come, when he lifted his eyes and looked straight at you. "I won't move from here until you make a mess on my face"

What he said, and the way he said it would sound like a promise, but it was more a fact. He dropped those words before he sank his lips in your pussy, taking you with an open-mouthed kiss that got you squirming in surprise. It was as if he wanted to get as much from you as he was able to, moving his lips on every corner that was left to discover by him. 

The tip of his tongue felt so delicate compared to his mouth, moving over your slit, from your entrance to your clit slowly -as if he were tasting every drop of arousal in your core-, before he was wrapping his mouth around the bundle of nerves and pulling from it. You soon were grinding your pelvis against his mouth and arching your back -feeling it would crumble at any point. But he took it as an invitation to lift his arm, fondling your breasts until his fingers found your hard nipple again. 

You weren't able to hold his gaze when he finally opened his eyes, your shut eyes and uncontrollable moans made you throw your head back, holding onto the wrist of the hand on your chest, while your other hand sank in his hair, assuring yourself that he wouldn't leave that spot when you were so close. 

Jungkook stopped twirling his tongue around your clit, torturing your button, to move back down to your entrance, forcing a needy moan come from you when he slid the muscle through your walls. 

It was as if your body didn't belong to you anymore the second he started twisting his tongue up and down, while his nose rubbed against your clit. You were too far gone to care about how loud you were, how messy you looked or how desperate you acted. Your brain was only able to process the wave of pleasure that fell heavy on you with the last move he made. 

You lost sense of how much time you spent with your eyes closed, trying to gain some oxygen back. But when you opened them, you found Jungkook staring into you. You knew he wasn't done with you, and you thanked god he wasn't while you were aware of the way half of his face was shining down the light of your lamp. 

Supporting your weight on your elbows, you motioned to the empty spot next to you. "My ears didn't ring".

Jungkook chuckled at that comment, lying in the spot you pointed to. His cock twitched in excitement when you got on top of him, straddling his hips. You didn't bother to tease him, or dragging it out, you both had been playing around long enough to keep waiting for it. 

You two gasped in sync as you slowly moved your hips down his length, taking him inch by inch again. Keeping that pace for a bit longer, you enjoyed the desperate subtle look on his face, and the way his hands moved on your thighs to get you to go faster. 

Jungkook got absorbed by the way your body looked the moment you started speeding it up. Maybe he was too high on sex, but he was sure you felt like the perfect match for him. Your bodies clapped together with every bounce you made, as if it was a piece fitting perfectly with another. He wasn't even able to control his own moans when you started moving back and forwards, making his cock twitch inside you with the way you kept clenching around him tight. 

You cried out loud when your clit kept rubbing against his skin, creating the perfect friction while he fought himself to keep him from pounding into you. 

A loud and sharp sound, was followed by a pleasant burning pain on your ass cheek, before he sank his fingertips on your skin -so hard that you were sure there would be marks on that same spot the next day. 

Your grip on his wrists and he held your hips got tighter by the second, with your head instantly falling back before your eyes were on him again. His honey skin was covered with a thin coat of sweat, his messy short hair was covering his forehead, and by his expression you knew he was as close as you were. 

"Are you cumming with me?" you asked, cracking your voice when he spanked you again. 

"Fuck, yes" he growled.

One more sway of your hips, one more twitch of his cock and you were both done and ruined. His warm load spilled down your walls, leaking out when he pulled his cock out and rested his head on your pillow. 

Your body fell flat next to his, shaky breathing fighting to go back to normal as you stared at the ceiling. It was all calm and silent, that you allowed yourself to close your eyes, trying to remember the way it felt like your hairs would leave your skin by the way they raised through your orgasm. 

All that peace lasted a few minutes only, because soon you felt the mattress moving and you heard his steps over the room. When you opened your eyes, you found him with his boxers on, and his clothes piled in his hand. 

You weren't sure what you expected, or whether you actually wanted him to stay or not, but you were confused at how fast he was getting ready to leave. Standing up, and covering your body with a pink satin dressing gown, you were ready to confront him. 

"You're leaving?" 

"Yeah" he answered as if it was the most normal answer.

And probably it was. He lived next to you, there was no need for him to spend the night there. But something in the way he acted rubbed you the wrong way, having you placing your hands on your hips. 

It wasn't like you'd have wanted him to sleep next to you either. Maybe it was your hurt pride speaking through you, calling you because you were the one supposed to kick him out, not the one being stood up in your own place. 

"And that's it?" for a brief moment, Jungkook looked confused at your question. What else was he supposed to say or do?

"Yeah. I got what I wanted, you got what you wanted. We're done" he nodded. "You didn't expect us to cuddle and giggle like dumbasses, did you?"

No, but you didn't discard that idea either. Somewhere in the back of your brain, while you had your eyes closed, you hoped he'd wrap his arms around you and pull you in for a hug. Although maybe that was your loneliness projecting a bit too much. 

"No, but this isn't it either" you called him out. 

"Well, it seems like a you problem" he shrugged. "I didn't do anything to give you hope for a relationship".

"Hold it back there, who the fuck talked about a relationship? I'm just talking about human decency, which seems to be a bit too much to ask for a dog like you" you grimaced at your own words. "No, sorry. I didn't mean to insult dogs".

"You're so bitter, it’s kinda cute" he scoffed. "You don't need to hide it. It's fine".

"I'm not hiding anything".

Clicking your tongue, you pushed him out of your bedroom. Hurrying to the coffee table, you got his money and put it over his dark tank top, before you pointed towards the door. "Hope the door kicks you in the balls when you exit".

Although you both ended up arguing, something about that night felt weird. 

This one-shot will NOT have a Part 3, since it will be part of a longer fanfic that will be posted after I'm done with Under His Skin

[findmeinthefallair]

Sometimes I'm minding my own business and then I remember that his arc started out with the above. He got to experience being someone's best friend.

Then his worst fear?

It became true. The worst thing that could possibly happen to him? It happened.

He lost that best friend.

But after the timeskip:

He's able to handle a piece of palistrom wood without having a breakdown. He would be equipped with the necessary tools to manage triggers and relapses (because those are still going to happen: his trauma has been chronic).

He probably has friendly palismen following him around like he's a Disney princess. He'll show up at Palisman Adoption Days if they still hold events like those. He's able to believe that his life is a gift.