#doesn't make the Bad Part any less real or bad

[foundfamilywhump]

see like the thing with 'carewhumpers' as a concept to me is it just like... i know this is prrrrobably not really how it's meant but something skeeves me out about the idea that kindness or caretaking mixed in with hurting someone can somehow meaningfully complicate or dilute the harm done to the point of making that character no longer a 'whumper' whereas someone doing the same 'bad' things but not ever being gentle or caring for them would just be a straight-out whumper. when like... that's how 90% of irl abuse dynamics work? so i just... don't really get the point, i guess. like to me it implies something about the 'care' provided somehow mitigating or combating the harm done that. i just do not personally appreciate or enjoy.

[jamethinks]

One thing I find very ironic about Spyxfamily is the way the Desmonds are portrayed. I understand that according to the narrative, they (namely Donovan) are the antagonists of the story, but I do find it quite tepid that so many character analysis is bonded by this very dichotomy style approach to understanding the characters (if that makes any sense).

I'm having a hard time approaching my point so bare with me if it starts to get confusing or disjointed.

I always see people talking about how the Forgers (aka the fake family) are able to have a happy relationship and a genuine bond while the Desmonds (aka the real family) are distant and uncaring of one another. There's a lot of emphasis on the parallels between Damian and Anya and how the presence of their fathers impact their lives. Most of the discussion is centered around shaming Donovan for not being more involved in Damian's life but not a lot of people are acknowledging why.

The whole reason for the fake family as part of Twilight's mission is because Donovan is a closed off skeptic who avoids unnecessary social interaction. This mission is supposedly the easiest way to get to him. As the story goes on, we gain a better understanding of just how shut off Donovan is and how much he actually isolated himself, even from his own family.

But the thing is, his actions are justified. The mere existence of Operation Strix validates his fears and anxieties. The fact that Twilight a spy is trying to expoilt the relationship he has with his children in order to get closer to him is the very reason he avoids them so much. It's people like Twilight that make him such a skeptical person.

Again, people praise Twilight for being a good dad, except he isn't really a good dad. It's all a facade. He's so dedicated to his goal as a spy for the West that he's willing to fake an entire family just to find out what Donovan is planning. Everything Donovan hates and resents is embodied in Twilight.

In the end, Twilight is just as harmful to Anya as Donovan is to Damian. He grabbed a random child from an orphanage and is using her for his own personal gain with limited regard for her well-being. We are not even sure what he plans on doing with her when the mission is over. Anya is obviously able to manipulate the situation to her own advantage, but that's only because she's a telepath. Any other kid would just be playing along, assume they just got themselves a new family overnight. We do see him grow and deepen his bond with Anya, in some cases threatening the mission for her benefit, but that was never a guarantee.

In a very frustrating way, Twilight is also contributing to Damian's strained relationship with his father and family. While Donovan obviously doesn't know what Twilight is doing, he's still aware that there are people out there who might. So, he continues to be guarded and make unreasonable demands of his children. He makes Damian feel he has to earn his place in his father's life because people like Twilight push Donovan to limit the number of people that are allowed in his life. I'm not saying it's Twilight specifically who's at fault, but people like him who are very much trying to force their way into his circle.

And I'm not saying of this yo defend Donovan or put down Twilight but I would like for less black and white thinking when talking about a Manga that hinges itself on nuance and the complexity of post war society. I find it a bit tired to keep categorizing characters as good or bad because it really hinders any conversation about them.

Idk I just feel there's a lot of moral ambiguity in sxf that really is intended to make us question our own moral code so it's weird seeing people ignore the actual harm Twilight and Yor cause just to reinforce their own limited moral values.

I don't think this makes much sense honestly.

[apixieindreamland]

As always, this is a criticism of a theory, not of the beings who believe in it. 👻

The belief that EIYPO (Everyone Is You Pushed Out) is the foundation for the belief that people are in their own individual realities, over which they have complete control. I often see critics of loa say, "If you believe you have ultimate power, why are you manifesting shallow things like 'I'm the most beautiful/popular woman in the world' and not solving world hunger, wars, cancer, and suffering of all kinds?"

It's a VERY valid question, and the only response I've ever seen is something along the lines of "Because I don't have to!" 💅 That might seem like a non-answer, but it makes 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 sense when you analyze the underlying spirit of EIYPO: Absolute, utter, 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 self-centeredness; the belief that "I am L-I-T-E-R-A-L-L-Y the only person here. No one else is real and thus 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴."

I'm not being hyperbolic here at all about the logical conclusion of EIYPO. If no one else is "real" except for them, why should they care about someone else's supposed suffering? Why should they care about the imaginary suffering of an imaginary person? If they're the only person here, all that matters is their own comfort, their own ego gratification, and the satisfaction of every whim - right down to manifesting that their nail polish never chips. See 99.9% of loa posts for confirmation of this. See if you can find even ONE per day which focuses on the health and happiness of another person - I'd be very surprised if you could! EIYPO does not give anyone a single incentive to care about another human being, because according to that theory there AREN'T any other human beings. There's only me, me, and ME.

The only people I see who use manifestation to heal or help others are the ones who believe we're in a shared universe with other real beings who are also facets of God, and thus worth helping. (Read Ernest Holmes' work as an example of this - he was a hugely influential manifestation author who founded the Religious Science movement, which focuses mainly on healing and helping others with the power of thought.) Those who don't believe that other people exist have no incentive to try to help them - and often don't.

I think there are certain ideologies and influences in the world which encourage our lower natures; our tendency toward self-centeredness and mean-spiritedness. For example, something that encourages mean-spiritedness would be those shows which make fun of people who've obviously had rough lives and little education (like Jerry Springer.) That doesn't mean that the people watching that are bad people, but it is encouraging the less compassionate side of human nature.

Likewise, people who believe in EIYPO and get wrapped up in themselves are not bad people, but it's encouraging our tendency toward self-centeredness (which we all have), and the worst part is that the theory is a 𝘭𝘪𝘦. You're being encouraged to see your fellow creatures as literal non-entities; to detach from real connection (because how can one truly connect with someone you don't believe is real?), to feel no real concern about them, and to care about nothing but yourself. Does that sound healthy?

Please question everything, and always look into the heart of your most deeply held beliefs.

[usedpidemo]

a tale of two (concert) halves... (storytime!)

I've made it clear over the past few updates that my real life struggles have really backed us into a corner. If the first half of 2024 was on hard difficulty, the second half has so far been on brutal. Personal relationships are falling apart, our physical health has been going through hell, and our finances are struggling to keep up with ever increasing debts. As much as I am a man of faith, I do struggle with maintaining such devout trust on the daily, because I am afraid of the worst.

But even during these tough times, it's comforting to know I won't be left for dead, and I can still find enjoyment in them.

Not gonna lie, I thought I would never attend a concert this year. IVE was coming back after a little over a year, but I didn't have money for it (and is something I still struggle to move on from). ITZY was coming back less than eight months when I saw them, but no Lia, and the ticket selling was insanely early (fuck you Live Nation). The only other girl group I think came here was fromis_9, which I still would love to see, but that was for a festival, so the setlist was extremely limited—and it was during finals week, so that was not gonna happen. There's just been an overall downturn of concerts compared to last year, so whether or not this is a good thing, you decide. (Seriously, no aespa, no (G)I-DLE, no NMIXX, etc.)

However—here comes Red Velvet, one of the holy trinity of 3rd gen girl groups (TwicePinkVelvet), celebrating their 10th anniversary with an Asia tour. By some miracle, I got a stimulus check two months ahead of my birthday, and yet it was still a hard decision, because I wasn't sure if other girl groups would also tour near the end of the year. Looking at what's to come for the last quarter of the year, I highly doubt it and 2025 is sure to be stacked, so it all paid off in retrospect.

It was a completely different experience than the first two outings. For one, it was fucking standing floor over seated, so I knew my body would be put through the torture rack. Second was the unpredictability of where I would end up—thankfully it wasn't first come first serve where I would be forced to camp early (which by the way, concert campers are disgusting and should be arrested). Still, my positioning would depend on my queuing number (which in itself was dependent on when you would buy your ticket, and obviously unless you got into the site as soon as it loaded up, the earlier), and while it wasn't completely shit—it still meant that a majority would get their preferred spot over mines.

Cut to the actual concert day and it was a tale of two halves. The first was the pre-concert, which wasn't all bad at the start—but then there was the queuing before entering the venue. I could have easily waited and taken my sweet time exploring and doing other shit, but I was pressured to queue early out of fear of not getting a good spot. I forgot that since it was queuing numbers, they would rearrange the line anyway, so I never really had a chance lmao. I really shot myself in the foot quite literally by adding an extra two hours standing around.

Everyone in VIP was given a bonus member card, and I didn't end up getting my bias. I tried bartering with other fans, but I absolutely failed. To add insult to injury, everyone else were able to trade and/or get theirs, so that fucking sucks.

It was also the first time I was forced to wear some kind of noise control for my ears. Didn't really have earplugs but Airpods were certainly a nice alternative. Fucking hell—this was the loudest of the three crowds I've ever been a part of, and it doesn't help that the audience would screech and shout out of tune. It was so goddamn annoying. Then you get to the ments/speeches, and they would just fucking bark and make monkey noises while the members were talking, and after performances. I counted a total of 12-14 times this happened throughout, and it never got any better. If the members weren't encouraging the audience, I'd probably have socked someone in the nose out of annoyance at some point.

As for the overall concert itself, I had a blast! I'm not that familiar with Red Velvet's colorful discography, but they performed most of their hits and title tracks (ripperoni Russian Roulette and Chill Kill). Not only that, but the set ran for almost 3 hours (2 hours 50 minutes as they did start like 10 minutes past schedule), and the energy persisted all throughout. Wendy was constantly flaunting her vocals, but Joy. Joy was absolutely fucking insane. Also, the fucking Zimzalabim encore is something everyone needs to experience once in their lifetime.

I wish I could say the pain was all worth it—but of course, life being life, it decides to fuck with me one more fucking time with the middle finger. After the show ended, we were all told to stay in our spots for the send-off event as everyone else were escorted out and the raffle winners from lower seating tiers were pulled in. We waited for 40 minutes, and then the members come out. It should be a cool moment! Except they were led by staff straight to the extended stage for a bit and then they'd get off, completely neglecting the sides, where me and a few others were. They would eventually go around the venue, but by the time we realized what has happening, it was too late—we never got to see them up close properly.

I'll be honest, while I don't feel as bothered thinking about it a few days on, when it happened, it almost ruined the entire experience for me. The organizers/staff had misdirected us and didn't organize properly, so some of us got a lesser experience than those who won the raffle, which is worse for us since we paid more. The send-off treatment here was way—way worse than in Bangkok and Jakarta, and it fucking pisses me off. We can't have shit in this country. I don't blame the girls for it; they were just following instructions and they had a flight to catch shortly after (not to mention they were tired as fuck). Still, the fact I paid so much for that underwhelming send-off experience just reinforces my opinion that hi-touches are simply better. At least everyone gets a fair shot, even if it was very brief. You can't win them all, I guess. I also do believe that it was bound to happen, the first two experiences were near-perfect and flawless in execution, so something had to give to bring me back down to earth.

Nevertheless, even if for just a few hours, it's nice to find some comfort and enjoyment despite the world around me crumbling down. To think that they're 10 years on and still as active as their younger contemporaries in K-pop is astounding. I can see why they're among the most beloved girl groups ever; there's only a handful with equal the talent and discography to match. This was also my first outing with a new camera, and when it was hitting, the shots were fucking hitting.

I really wish Bamboleo was part of the set tho.

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[risaonda]

gets home from work starts looking into applying for boring office jobs

[niningtori]

mad about you | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you, delusions of kang taehyun x you

summary: beomgyu is not only a spoiled, rich asshole whose whole life has been served to him on a silver platter, but he's also your student council vice president. things finally come to a head on your final trip as college students, but not in the way you would expect. or, beomgyu catches you, the student council president, smoking weed and tries to blackmail you for it

genre: romance, angst (only a tiny bit...? shocking i know), fluff (kinda...? shocking i know), SMUT (MDNI!!!), sub!idol, beomgyu enemies to lovers

warnings: bad writing, not proofread at all, smut (MDNI!!!), sub!gyu LMAOOOO, marijuana, dirty talk, praise, handjobs, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 7.1k

notes: please... this took MONTHS for me to write i fear i am the worst request taker on moablr. this was really difficult for me to complete but alas... it is done. if you hate it, my fault! just please don't bully me i've got enough shit going on in my life rn 💀 i hate it too but that's okay!

being a straight-a student is hard. being the student government president? even harder. being both? hell on earth. but now, in your senior year of college, you’ve finally managed to get it down to a science. things run relatively smoothly, which is due in no small part to the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve put in to make the student body happy, never mind the lengths you've gone to for the faculty. you can confidently say you can cope with nearly every trial and tribulation that comes your way with a smile on your face. well, except for one recurring disaster: beomgyu.

at first, he was nothing more to you than a pest buzzing around for no real purpose other than to mildly annoy you. it was strange because he seemed normal at first, but then he would pick on your looks, every time you made a mistake in class, and even how you happened to wear your hair that day. this was annoying and, well, hurtful. still, it was of no real consequence, so you were able to ignore him when that was the case, but now you know better than to underestimate just how disastrous beomgyu’s presence can be. as the student government vice president, he should be your first and most trusted ally, but he’s nothing short of, for lack of a better term, a major asshole deadset on making your life even more difficult than it already is for reasons unknown to you.

you think it may be because you would have probably beaten him for the actual president’s chair, which led him to run for vice president, instead. you don’t know why he minds this, though, because he couldn’t seem to care less about the council, not to mention school in general. it’s not that he gets bad grades, because he doesn’t. in fact, when he gets called on in class, he always gets the answer right even when he clearly wasn’t paying any attention. still, you work twice as hard as anyone else and yet your grades are only rivaled by his own. even taehyun, your (probably unrequited) crush, can’t help but be beaten by beomgyu as if the hand of god itself smacks down on everyone else every time you all take a test. 

getting good grades should be an admirable thing, right? it helps with potential internships and jobs and all that, but the thing is: beomgyu doesn't need any of it. even if he fails all of his classes, he's set for life as the son of a formidable CEO of a company whose profits are more than you could ever dream of attaining. there is absolutely no doubt that beomgyu will succeed him, and there is even less doubt that he'll undeniably be very, very good at it. what’s worse is that even if he failed to meet expectations, he’d still get the position, anyway. 

that, in comparison with your family’s laughable financial circumstances, would be enough to make you secretly hate the boy just on principle; but jealousy is ugly, no doubt, so you’ve kept your feelings to yourself. you would have fallen into a pit of self-loathing and guilt had beomgyu actually been kind, and you may have even grown to like him if that were the case, but no. beomgyu is not kind. he’s a total prick. you see it in his smug little smile when the test papers get handed back and he annihilates everyone — other than you — in class, especially taehyun. you see it in the smirks he sends you when you catch him making out with whoever his new girlfriend of the week happens to be, and in the way he openly mocks you by calling you a prude in front of the entire student population. and most importantly, you see it in the way he watches you struggle to stay afloat while he cruises on by without a care in the world.

-

honestly? beomgyu knows better than to bully the girl he has a crush on just because he wants her attention, but who told you to make it so damn hard on him? it’s not like he didn’t consider being nice at first, but your aloofness to his charms only caused him to believe that he was nearly invisible to you, and he simply wouldn't stand for that. naturally, the best course of action was to get you to hate him — at least that means you’re actually paying attention to him. that’s what he tells himself as he’s sticking one of his spindly legs out as you walk past him, effectively tripping you in the process and making the entire class erupt into laughter. your nostrils flare as your head whips up to meet his condescending gaze. once again, your eyes are completely on him. check and mate.

that's what it feels like, at least, until you’re hurriedly pulled up by a concerned taehyun and he’s frantically asking if you’re alright while fixing up your (now) fucked up hair. your eyes, which were just brimming with anger and contempt for him, are now overflowing with lovesickness and infatuation for the other boy. well, never mind about the whole “checkmate” thing, it’s like beomgyu doesn’t even exist in the same world as you anymore.

-

“you need to relax,” taehyun says, gently closing the notebook in front of you and sliding over a few of your favorite snacks. 

“th-thank you, tyun,” you reply, shyly. he grins when he sees he’s succeeded in distracting you.

“no problem, we wouldn’t want that pretty little head of yours to break from thinking too much, now would we?” he teases. you feel heat rushing to your cheeks at his words. he doesn’t really mean them, he never does, but that doesn’t stop your heart from racing when he says things like this to you. 

having a crush on taehyun is only natural. that’s what you tell yourself, but the way you have a shrine dedicated to notes he’s passed you and polaroids you’ve taken together sitting prettily in your room is most definitely unnatural. he doesn’t need to know about that, though.

“my head’s not going to break,” you huff with a playful roll of your eyes. “i just need to finish outlining the major stops on the trip and i’ll be done, i promise.” 

it’s true that all you have to do is outline where you’re going to stop on the council’s senior trip, which doesn’t sound like a big deal in theory, but in actuality, you have to clear each stop with the faculty and make sure you stay within the budget in spite of beomgyu’s insufferable attempts to exceed it. he’s made light of the finances and talked up special events to the rest of the council members, even taehyun. you tried to snuff out these suggestions with realistic arguments about how expensive it will be, but his response was to call you a killjoy. simple and straightforward, but effective, nonetheless. everyone, even taehyun, was so excited to try everything he hyped up, so how could you say no when taehyun turned to you, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and practically begged you to relent? you, unfortunately, didn’t and don’t have the heart to deny him, so you caved, and now you’re stuck trying to figure it all out. 

“you promise?” taehyun asks, snapping you out of your spiral, with his cute cat-like fangs showing ever so slightly.

“i promise,” you nod and he cheers triumphantly. again, you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm, and you’d bask in the moment if your gaze didn’t happen to catch beomgyu’s scrutinizing one at this very moment. he looks at you like he’s watching a monkey putting on a show, and your happiness is instantly replaced with a sense of embarrassment. you’ve never told a single soul about your feelings for taehyun, but eerily enough, beomgyu seems to know something the rest of the world does not. he seems well aware of your deepest secret. why he doesn’t just expose you in order to humiliate you, you have no idea, but you do know you don't like how much he knows.

-

you really, really shouldn’t be doing this. and certainly not here, of all places, but you just can’t help it. smoking weed is terrible for you, and you of all people should know, seeing as how you led a presentation on its ill effects in front of the entire student body in your freshman year. but it’s hard to truly care when you’re wound so tightly you feel like you’re about to burst. 

beomgyu is getting his way again, as always, and you’re worried about having to make yet another last minute change to your trip’s itinerary for tomorrow because he called today’s stop boring, which led to the rest of the council silently agreeing. so here you sit on the top of the hotel building as the rest of the group are out sightseeing, taking a long, lung-scorching drag from the blunt in between your fingers. 

“didn’t take you for the smoking type, madame president,” a voice cuts in from out of nowhere. beomgyu. fuck. 

you try to keep your cool, but you end up choking on the smoke as you hurriedly go to flick the blunt away, but beomgyu’s hand grabs your wrist before you can quite make it there. his touch feels like a brand searing itself into your skin, but you’re too overstimulated to notice. 

“i didn’t tell you you had to stop,” he muses condescendingly as you rip your wrist away from his grasp. he winces. you don't catch it. instead, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the presumption that he has the power to tell you to do anything.

“i’m not one of your little minions,” you snap in spite of yourself. “quit acting like you can boss me around.” 

“is that so?” he questions, not without an air of smugness. alarm bells blare in your ears as you try to sniff out where his confidence is coming from. sure, he caught you smoking, but it’s your word against his. that’s right, there’s no need to be scared. if he says anything at all, you can just feign innocence and say you were the one who caught him sneaking out to smoke.

“yep,” you answer with a grin at your new plan, popping the “p” with the same obnoxiousness he usually terrorizes you with. you’re no match for him in terms of popularity, but you will never lose to him when it comes to credibility.

“you’re not afraid that i’ll snitch on you? you’re not scared of me telling everyone how little-miss-perfect spends her alone time?” 

“you can try,” you reply with a shrug. he’s silent for a few moments, as if he’s in deep thought. 

“you know what? you’re right,” he concedes with a sigh, and shockingly so. the beomgyu you know and loathe would never give up that easily. “you don’t have to listen to what i say. nobody would believe me over you, right?” 

you eye him suspiciously before giving a slight nod.

“and most times, you would be absolutely right. like, just imagine if i told them you faked being sick and flaking on everyone else just so you could get high. nobody would believe me. i wouldn’t even believe me,” he continues. you have no idea why he’s going on and on about this, but you don’t like it. 

“what the hell are you playing at?” you ask through clenched teeth. 

“i mean, i’m just saying that nobody would believe me. not unless i showed them something like, i don’t know, this?” he says with a grin, holding up his phone and showing you an alarmingly high resolution photo of you taking a hit of your blunt. your eyes widen in sheer horror and you immediately jump to try to retrieve his phone from his hands, but beomgyu is quicker. he tauntingly holds it up in the air with one arm and stops you from coming any closer with the other. you try to jump to reach it, but you’re no match for his stature and long limbs. damn him for being so fucking tall.

“delete it!” you shriek, but all he does is click his tongue and shake his head like the insufferable asshole he is. 

“oh, sure,” he says nonchalantly. your eyes widen even further as he lowers his phone and fiddles with the screen, still keeping you at arm’s length so you’re helpless to grab it for yourself.

“r-really?” you ask incredulously, sincerely taken aback by his compliance. stupid, stupid you. he tuts in response.

“you don’t really think i’ll make it that easy, do you?”

“fine,” you relent, jaw tense and eyebrows furrowed in an almost comically exaggerated way. “what the hell do you want from me?”

“nothing much, just lemme smoke with you,” he answers with a lopsided grin, showcasing a dimple in his cheek you had never noticed until now.

“w-what?” you ask dazedly. 

“god, you’re slow,” he tells you with a roll of his eyes. “smoke with me and i’ll delete the picture. i won’t even mention it again.” 

“are you being serious?” you whisper. 

“dead serious,” he smirks. 

“... fine,” you find yourself relenting, yet again. you don’t know if you necessarily trust him to actually follow through with his words, but what choice do you have? why he wants to smoke with you, you have no idea, but if it gets him to keep his mouth shut, then you really can’t ask for much more than that.

you sigh and take a seat, walking over near the entrance of the rooftop and propping yourself up against the concrete wall behind you. surprisingly, he stays planted in the same spot as if he didn’t hear you. you pat the ground next to you impatiently in light of his hesitation. he snaps out of his daze as he sits next to you so tentatively it’s like you’re a stray cat he’s afraid to scare off. well, good. it’s best for him not to get too comfortable around you. you hate the guy, after all.

you take another deep inhale and he watches you with a gaze that can only be described as lovesick, but you’re too preoccupied to pick up on it. when you exhale, you find yourself starting to pass the blunt over to beomgyu before thinking better of it. 

“wait,” you say, pulling your hand back before he can grip the blunt. 

“what?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“am i gonna catch something from you if we share this?” 

“oh, fuck you,” he grunts, effectively snatching the blunt back and putting it to his lips.

“it’s a real question! i’ve seen the girls you mess around with, and i’m not trying to catch anything from you!” 

“i’m careful,” he argues with a roll of his eyes. “a lot more careful than you think.” you pout at his reaction, but for some reason, you believe his words. 

“if i catch anything, it's on you,” you reply, hackles still raised. shockingly, he doesn't press the matter any more than that. 

“... so,” he says after exhaling a deep drag. 

“so what?” you ask. 

“so why are you out here smoking instead of going out with everyone else?”

“do you seriously think you have the right to ask me that?” you scoff. there’s no way in hell beomgyu is trying to get you to be vulnerable right now.

on beomgyu’s end, he can’t help but feel slighted, even though your reaction is definitely his fault on account of how he essentially antagonizes you at every given opportunity. 

“i’m just saying that it’s weird how you’re here instead of, you know, actually enjoying the trip.” 

“oh, please. as if there was gonna be any possible way for me to have fun on this fucking thing,” you bitterly reply. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks without any malice, but with genuine curiosity.

truly, honestly, sincerely, you do not know why you say your next words. maybe it’s because you’re high, or maybe it’s because you need to tell someone — anyone — how you really feel, for once. all you really know is: you can’t stop yourself.

“i mean, how could i possibly enjoy myself when i’m left to figure everything out on my own? everyone only cares about having fun with no actual idea how we’ll do it while realistically staying within the budget and our timeline, and my vice president is deadweight, so it’s not like he’ll help,” you complain, taking a jab at beomgyu in light of your waning self control. you’re prepared to verbally spar with him after that last comment, but he surprises you.

“is that how you really feel?” he asks.

“yeah, it is,” you tell him. “that’s how i always feel,” you can’t help but add, more to yourself and less to him, but he hears you, anyway. 

“i’m sorry.” you whip your head around to make sure you’re not having some sort of auditory hallucination. did beomgyu just apologize to you? it can’t be. there’s no earthly way.

“i’m sorry. i really am,” he repeats. your whole world feels like it’s thrown off of its axis when you see how somber and genuinely apologetic he looks. 

“it’s… it’s fine,” is all you can really muster up the words to say. 

“no, it’s not. i’ll help you as much as i can, i swear,” he earnestly insists. you nod in bewilderment at his earnestness — feeling too awkward to do much else.

things are quiet for the next few minutes while you two are passing the blunt back and forth. beomgyu can feel the high finally hitting him in full force, and it takes every brain cell within his clouded mind (as well as every ounce of his courage) to finally get out his next sentence. 

“why him?” he mumbles so lowly, you don’t quite catch his words. 

“what?” you lazily ask. 

“why taehyun?” once again, you find yourself choking on the smoke. god, you’ve really got to get a grip and stop letting beomgyu surprise you — your lungs would thank you for it.

“w-what do you mean?” well, you always knew that beomgyu knows about your feelings for taehyun, but hearing him directly ask about them is enough to throw you off.

“i mean, why do you like him?” he asks, devoid of all the confidence he usually oozes. 

“what’s not to like?” you say offhandedly. if you cared enough to pay attention to his reaction, you’d see how he withers at your words. even more so when you continue.

“he’s really, really funny. plus, he’s handsome. not to mention smart and —” 

“so what? i’m all of those things,” beomgyu interrupts, irritation bitterly lacing every edge of his words. “and if you call him smart, anybody can be.” oh hell no. you’re so indignant at him calling taehyun stupid, you don’t even catch beomgyu’s childlike envy towards him, let alone why he feels it.

“just because his grades don’t compare to yours, doesn’t mean he’s stupid,” you argue.

“then what does it mean?” he asks with a roll of his eyes at your obvious bias for the other boy.

“it… it just means that he’s —” 

“a real genius. yeah, i’m sure you think so,” he snarks.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” you snap, despite your better judgment to just let it roll off of your back. if he were talking about you, you may very well have done so, but this is taehyun he’s talking about. your taehyun. 

“it means he can’t compare to me,” he says, more as means to convince himself rather than convince you, but you’re so angry, you don’t even notice.

“and what makes you think you’re so goddamn special?” you ask, sarcasm absolutely dripping out of your voice. 

“i’m funnier, hotter, smarter, richer. how can he compare to me?” he snorts. if someone were to ask you why you feel so defensive at this moment, you would be unable to say why, but if you had to guess, you’d say it’s because taehyun is so good it’s impossible to see him any other way. your frustration builds up, hotter and hotter in your chest until you’re on the brink of exploding.

“you say that, but he will always be something you’re not,” you spit.

“and what, pray tell, might that be?” he cockily challenges.

“nice,” you say with conviction, and it may be cheesy, but you mean it. “he is really, really fucking nice and considerate. that’s why i like him.” well, that one went straight to his gut.

“i can be nice!” he exclaims. “i tried to be nice, but you just didn’t care! it was like i was invisible to you!” all you can do is stare, but he’s not finished. “you act like you’re some fucking angel, but i saw the way you looked at me like i’m some stupid, rich asshole who isn’t worth a damn.” 

finally, you realize that something is wrong. 

“beomgyu, why do you even care about what i think about you?” he doesn’t give a fuck about what you have to say in any other context, today’s example being only the latest in the litany of times where he’s shown you that exact sentiment. 

at this, he’s silent, which you truly did not anticipate in lieu of his tirade mere moments ago. you take a good look at the boy, and you finally register that the tips of his ears are a bright red under the fluorescence of the lone light shining next to the doorway. 

“i just… i always care about what you think,” he mumbles, face growing redder and redder under your scrutinizing stare as he breaks eye contact with you.

“you could’ve fooled me,” you snort. “you’re always undermining everything i say and do. it’s almost like you’re doing it on… purpose…” you trail off, puzzle pieces finally fitting together in a way you would never suspect. 

“beomgyu?” you ask.

“mm?” he murmurs, still refusing to make eye contact. 

“do you… do you like me?” and the question sounds so silly you can’t believe you even asked it. this guy fucking hates you, you’re sure of it, but you grow less and less sure of this sentiment with every moment he hesitates to answer.

“... yeah. yeah, i do. but so what? you don’t even care,” he mopes, and just like that, everything makes sense. his teasing, his contrarian nature, and his obnoxiousness are just part of his ruse. he’s just like a child begging for attention by acting out, but to what end? just so you’ll pay attention to him? well, he was on the money when he said you didn’t like him even when he tried to be kind, so maybe, in his own sick little way, he was right. 

but that doesn’t mean you don't feel completely blindsided by this revelation. 

“what the hell?” is all you can manage to say.

“shut up!” he demands with no real heat to it, just embarrassment. 

“i… i can’t believe your solution was to be an asshole,” you say incredulously. “if you had just been nice, or even just normal, i would have warmed up to you. i know i was being childish, but goddamn, you’re worse.” 

if he was blushing before, and he was, he’s absolutely blood red now. 

“i-it’s your fault for being so judgmental!” he sputters, but even you know he’s just grasping at straws. it all makes the worst kind of sense to you now, and you’re very much shocked at how oblivious you were mere moments ago.

“i can't believe this,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to your temples in an effort to straighten everything out in your muddled head. “you hate me.” 

“you’re so dramatic,” he huffs with a roll of his eyes, which would convincingly come across as disdainful, if only his words weren’t so shaky and unsure.

you take a good look at him now, and he can feel it. he’s a very handsome guy, and he knows it, but he can’t help but feel vulnerable. he clears his throat and straightens up his posture when he thinks that you may be comparing him to taehyun... you are not.

none of his actions escape you, which is a far cry from what usually happens, but now that you've discovered his true feelings, it’s almost impossible not to catch his tells; you even wonder how you missed them. his awkward handling of the situation is endearing, in a way. you like watching him squirm, which you realize must be the way he felt about you all those times he teased you. it just makes you wanna push him more.

you’re not exactly known for your impulsivity. in fact, you’re known for the exact opposite. you take things slowly, steadily. you plan every minute detail in consideration of every possible outcome, but as for right now? right now, as you sit and watch beomgyu pout, you just want to let go and do what you really want, and what you really want is to watch him break.

you grab his face with your hands and turn it towards you, and he scowls for just a moment before blinking his big, reddened eyes in curiosity at your unreadable gaze.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks, too exhilarated by your touch to think about batting you away.

this is a bad idea — a horrible one, even — but that does nothing to deter you. how can it when his skin on your palms makes it feel like there's pure electricity thrumming through your bones? fuck it, might as well.

you don’t realize it yourself, but you look incredibly focused as you pull him in, his lips meeting yours. you’d think with the shock he must feel that he’d be taken aback for a second, but beomgyu, as always,   does not abide by your rules. he immediately grabs your face and presses his lips even harder against yours. you’re surprised at how much heat is behind it — how much frustration.

it’s incredibly interesting to watch his reactions as you kiss him, which would be weird, but he’s far too engrossed in this newfound pleasure to notice your stare. his eyes are shut, but they tremble with every passing second, making his long eyelashes quiver. you never noticed how long they are before now. you chalk up the swiping of your tongue against his chapped lips to sheerly wanting to study his reaction, and oh man, it does not disappoint. he whines against your mouth, eyebrows furrowed like he’s pleading for something. you want to find out what that something is. cruelly, you take his bottom lip between your teeth and lightly bite. he whines even louder, his eyes fluttering open, and he pulls away and says his next words in a tinny voice.

“c-can i touch you?” he pants, forehead pressed against yours, lips cherry red.

“no,” you say with a smile against his mouth. he would whine again if he could, but he can’t quite do it at the moment, not when your hands have moved from his cheeks in order to explore the rest of him. you curiously run your fingers through his long, silky hair, and he can’t help but moan when you experimentally tug at it. it’s breathy and light, and you’re intrigued, to say the very least. 

you don’t have the most experience in the world when it comes to the, uh, matters between men and women, but you are a fast learner by nature, so it takes no time at all to figure out where he likes to be touched. his lips, obviously, and his hair. his ears, so flushed and pink and cute, must be particularly sensitive, and you test this hypothesis by dragging your teeth along his earlobe. he lets out a loud, broken moan when you do, and anyone else in the world would have been embarrassed by making such a noise, but not beomgyu. he’s so pretty and pliable underneath your touch, which feels so tantalizing that all shame escapes him.

“do you like that, beomie?” you whisper teasingly, employing a nickname you’ve heard from a few of his ex-flings, and another strangled cry leaves his pouty lips when he feels your breath touch his ear. 

“mhmm, i like it! like it so much, princess,” he babbles, eyes screwed shut as you trail your lips from his ear to his unblemished neck. 

“princess?” you can’t help but question. “where’d that come from?” 

“think about calling you that all the time,” he moans as you suck on a previously unmarred patch of skin on his neck. “think about you all the time.” 

“and what do you think, beomie?” you whisper encouragingly, as if he’s a stupid boy just on the precipice of understanding a laughably simple concept.

“th-think about how much i wanna fuck you,” he admits. “h-how much i want to fill you up, make you m-mine.” honest to god, your panties were already feeling a little sticky just from teasing him alone, but his words make your core heat up tenfold. you shift your legs while trying to make yourself more comfortable, but you fail miserably.

“you’re delusional,” you snort, as you pull away from him, but his lips try to chase yours before you lightly push him away.

“i’m not! i-i jus’ wanna make you feel good,” he slurs, and oh god, you simply can’t be saved.

“well, wanna make your delusions reality?” you can’t help but ask before you can think better of it, but when you see how his eyes light up in hope and pure, primal lust, you realize you don’t regret it.

-

the walk to his hotel room is silent, so unbearably silent that you can’t help but second-guess yourself. are you really gonna do this with beomgyu of all people? but it’s been so long since you’ve let go, who will it hurt just to have fun for once? maybe you, probably you, but who cares? it can't be any worse than it is now. besides, you're graduating soon. if things go as badly as you’re pretty sure they will, you’ll never have to see beomgyu again after the fact. plus, things really can’t seem to get any more embarrassing than the humiliation ritual you put yourself through every day that you spend pining after taehyun.

and so, you enter his hotel room, which is easily double the size of yours (sans a roommate, no less) with a look of determination. beomgyu completely misses it, though, as he shuts the door behind you and immediately tugs you towards his bed, quick to rekindle the atmosphere you two had on the rooftop. surprisingly, it’s not hard to do so when he’s back to kissing you so desperately it’s like you’re his lifeline.

he impatiently swipes his tongue across your lips, mirroring what you did earlier, silently asking for entry. you oblige. he groans at the feeling of your warm tongue brushing against his own, savoring the way you taste, which yes, does have notes of weed, but there’s something sweet in there, too. something he’s only ever fantasized about with his hand down his pants.

one of your hands is currently tangled in his hair, just the way he likes it, while the other one exploratorily finds its way down his lithe body. you’ve never done what you do next before, but he seems so incredibly sensitive, it feels like a matter of course to put your hand up his shirt and tweak one of his hardened nipples. he lets out a strangled cry, which only makes you certain that you’ve done the right thing. 

“is it good, beomie? is it everything you wanted it to be?” you tease. he nods like an idiot.

“y-yes, even better,” he moans. “feels s-so good.” 

in the dim lighting of his hotel room, you can see that he means it as the tent in his pants gets harder and harder to ignore. the poor thing is so wound up by your caresses that he may just cum untouched, anyway, but what fun would that be? so, before you can think too much about it, you palm him through his jeans. 

“ah!” he cries, eyebrows furrowed. you palm him again, rougher this time, and just like clockwork, he cries even louder.

“want me to keep going?” you ask, studying and soaking up every reaction of his. all he can do is nod.

he unzips his pants and he’s all too willing to help you slide them off of him, tossing them on the floor before hurriedly grabbing one of your hands to meet his barely clothed bulge. it’s big, because it’s beomgyu and of fucking course it is. as if he needed another reason to be conceited. 

it doesn’t seem like he’s very conceited, though, as he moans like a whore at you hooking your fingers under his waistband and tugging his boxers off of him. his cock is very obviously leaking, and it’s as bright red as his ears were earlier, completely flushed with beads of precum drooling off of it. there are angry veins running up the sides of it, which sounds gross, in theory, but you can’t help but feel like they make it even prettier. you gulp when you imagine how they’ll feel when they’re dragging in and out of your pussy.

“don’t stare!” he says, breaking you out of your reverie. honestly? he knows it’s pretty, just like every other part of him, but he feels incredibly scrutinized under your gaze. you don’t listen, still very much staring as you take your thumb and experimentally swipe it over his thick, reddened tip. then again. then again.

“s-stop teasing me, please,” he whimpers, but you’re so enamored with his reactions you can’t help yourself. you spit on your hand and grab the base of his cock, which is no small feat considering how thick it is, and you give it a harsh tug. he bites his bottom lip to try to stifle his moans as you start to jerk him off, applying pressure exactly where he needs it most, but he quickly gives up on being quiet when you bend over and lick his tip. he tastes salty, but not unbearably so, and in a way, he’s almost sweet. that could just be your imagination, though.

beomgyu is no longer trying to bite back his moans, but he's stuck in another dilemma: he can't seem to unscrew his eyes for long enough to fully appreciate the sight before him. one of your hands is gripping the muscle of his thigh as leverage while the other aids in squeezing and pulling the parts of him you can’t quite fit in your mouth. you’re not looking at him, which would normally be disappointing, but it’s impossible to be anything less than satisfied when you’re hollowing on your cheeks to suck on him even harder. you take your hand from his dick and ghost your fingers over his balls, and he has to push you off of him so he doesn’t blow his load right then and there.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, wiping some spit and precum off of your lips. he’s enchanted by the way your lips are swollen from sucking on him, so much so that he almost forgets to answer.

“‘m gonna c-cum,” he says shyly.

“and?” 

“i don’t want to yet. i wanna make you feel good, too,” he argues petulantly.

“oh? is that what you do in your dreams? you make me feel good? i’m surprised, i figured you’d like me to do all the work and —” 

“shut up!” he hisses, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“let me eat you out,” he offers, trying to distract you from his evident embarrassment. it’s tempting, very tempting, indeed, but you’re so hot and bothered that you kind of just want to get to the main event. especially since you just know it’ll feel good to finally have him inside of you. it’s been so long since you’ve been with somebody, after all. 

“no, thanks. do you have a condom?” you ask, ignoring his suggestion, and he’d be humiliated if only your question wasn’t so damn exciting.

“n-no…” he stammers. your face falls for a second before he rushes to get out his next words. “b-but i can pull out!” 

“sorry, this was fun and all, but i’m not letting you fuck me without protection.”

“please?” he begs. “i’m clean, i swear! i told you i’m more careful than you think. i really don’t sleep around that much, honestly,” he admits. 

“what?” you ask, genuinely bewildered before calling his bluff. “bullshit. i see you with a new girl all the fucking time. quit lying.” 

“i’m not! i promise — i promise — i don’t sleep around a lot. i only act like i do ‘cause of you!” 

“because of me?” and it actually makes sense when you think about it. he acts out, bullies you, and pretends he’s involved with a lot more girls than he actually is just to try to get you to look his way. oh man, what are you gonna do with him? 

“you’re so pathetic,” you sneer before hiking up your skirt and mounting him. 

“w-what are you —” 

“shut up before i change my mind,” you spit. and just like magic, his mouth is snapped shut.

you start by rubbing your clothed pussy against his bare cock. your slick has already ruined the fabric beyond salvation, so you don’t really mind ruining it some more. beomgyu is absolutely in awe at your actions, rutting against you feverishly. he’s greedy, if nothing else, so he impatiently moves your soaked panties to the side and tries to seek relief in your warm hole. you let him grab your hips as he tries to ease himself into you, but he’s stunned at the resistance he’s met with as he tries to push himself in. 

“s-so tight,” he groans as his fat cock breaches the tight rim of your pussy. the muscles contract as they stretch to accommodate his widened tip. 

you were right about how good you anticipated the feeling of his veins scraping against your insides would be, and you revel in it as you sink down inch by scorching inch. beomgyu, on his end, looks absolutely devastated as you slowly take him in. his mouth is twisted open in a silent scream, and his eyes are watery, tears threatening to spill over at any moment. when your ass finally meets his hips, you can feel his length pulsating all the way up to your cervix. it’s a snug fit, too, and it takes everything in him not to hump you like a fucking dog. 

slowly, you raise yourself up again, almost completely off of him, before slamming yourself back down. then again. then again. he whimpers when you do it, grabbing your hips to help steady you as you ride him for everything that he’s worth. he’s enraptured as your breasts bounce with each movement, and he can’t help himself now — he begins to thrust into you wildly, matching your rhythm and making you cry out. if you were in your right state of mind, you’d feel sorry for the poor souls who are on the same floor as him. 

“pussy so f-fucking good,” he grunts as he feels you squeezing around him, and you’re about to smirk before he pushes you onto the bed, then turning you on your side so you’re facing away from him. he tries to slide back into your needy cunt, but the new position makes you feel even tighter. still, with the combination of his slick and yours, he’s able to push himself in again before rutting into you. he presses one of his big hands against your stomach while the other one hastily grabs one of your tits, and suddenly he's back to fucking you like a wild animal. 

you've never in your life felt so wanted, so needed, but beomgyu needs you in a way so carnal it makes you feel even more lustful. he nips your ear, mimicking your actions from earlier, and begs for your praise. 

“a-are you feeling good? you’re feeling good, right?” he chokes out as he hits a particularly deep part of your pussy. 

“so good, beomie,” you moan. “you’re fucking me so good.” those words would normally never leave your lips, but he seems desperate for your validation, and you know he’s too far gone to mock you.

“oh god, this is w-what i dreamed about,” he babbles as he takes the hand that was pressing on your stomach and uses it to massage your clit, earning a strangled scream from you. “th-this is what i’ve always wanted.” and if you could see his face, you’d notice how his eyes roll backwards in sheer ecstasy. 

“i’m gonna cum!” you cry, all self-restraint gone.

“m-me too, princess,” he moans. “c-can i cum inside?” it’s a pipe dream if he’s ever had one, and you can believe that he’s had one, but your response floors him.

“yes, yes, yes! do it inside, i want it!” and that’s enough. he spits out a curse as he hammers himself into you, making you almost sob as you come undone with him inside of you. the feeling of your pussy sucking him in even more as it wildly contracts around him pulls him over the edge, so he paints your walls with his seed and fucks you through both of your highs. 

he stays there until he goes soft, slowly pulling out and watching in awe as the cum spills out of your hole. he pulls you flush against his body and sighs as he tenderly fixes up your hair. 

“i really, really like you,” he earnestly whispers into your hair. 

“i —” 

“it’s okay if you don’t like me yet,” he interrupts. “i can wait.” you’re glad you’re not facing him, because you actually feel a little awkward at his sincere words, but you can’t deny that it makes your heart flutter to hear them.

“okay,” you say.

“okay?” he asks, just to be sure he heard you correctly.

“yes, i-it’s okay. you can wait.” he’s so excited that he throws himself on top of you and turns you to face him, lips greedily meeting yours, putting every ounce of yearning into the kiss. 

honestly? with the way things are going right now, he probably won’t have to wait very long at all. 

notes pt. 2: yeah... i'm so sorry that this is bad i'm just used to writing angst angst angst and this def veered more into cute territory but whatever just don't bully me

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[dunmeshistash]

Saw someone describe Mithrun as a "Disabled right wing veteran who is convinced hes just as capable as he was in his prime" and also that he would "complain about immigrants" and I'm very confused.

Where did this type of interpretation for Mithrun came from? There's nothing about him that indicates he's "right wing" or any more racist than the average elf and due to his condition he literally isn't able to care about that.

The sentiment of "Mithrun is a racist grandpa" seems to have gone from an absurdist joke based on him saying a "slur" into a real interpretation of the character??

First of all he's 37 in tallman years he is not a grandpa, I know it was a joke based on him being rough and the fact he's an elf (185 years old) but I'm starting to think some people really think he's grandpa age? He isn't, he's about as old as Senshi and Chilchuck, Senshi is actually older than him being 47 in tallman years if he's a grandpa they are too, it's going from funny way to call him into ableist territory pretty fast.

Second he doesn't have the ability to be actively racist anymore, racism implies a sense of superiority compared to someone else from another race, which all the elves have. (althought he still benefits passively from this racism as an elf even if he doesn't actively feel it) Let's go thru his anime appearance and what happens.

Kabru shows up and tries to speak to the elves and convince them to try his way. The elves think the short lived people are all ignorant and treat them condescendingly, even Tansu because they live more than any other race

Then they go from "Short lived people are too stupid to know anything" into "Oh my god this poor baby come on have some cake :)" which is ALSO condescending, nobody is taking Kabru or the governor seriously because they're short lived. These elves are RACIST they're treating Kabru like he's a confused kid "come eat some cake and let the adults talk"

Mithrun is the only authority figure that wants to listen to Kabru

He is a shell of who he used to be, right now he ONLY cares about defeating the demon, if there is a chance this kid (who has had experience with dungeons before) knows another way to get him what he wants he will listen to it, cause he *doesn't* have the capability of being like the other elves.

This doesn't mean he's anti-racist, it means he literally doesn't care, he lets the other elves mistreat Kabru in every other scene unless it has something to do with defeating the dungeon, cause he *doesn't* care. He's not gonna complain about immigrants cause he doesn't care he's not gonna treat short lived people like kids cause he doesn't care, he cannot care, he lost the ability to care.

Past Mithrun was the one that was both racist classicist and a bitch, but that part of him is basically dead.

He said the slur because they asked him not because he thinks is appropriate, the other elves aren't 'casual racists' and him the 'real racist' they are all just as bad he just doesn't have the "desire to be socially acceptable" I guess, they asked, he answered and that was it.

If it would make it easier try to think about it in terms of real life bigotry and how people keep going "you can't even say (...) because of the woke" they aren't any less racist they just worry about being socially acceptable racists.

Anyway, please don't just repeat what other people say as jokes as if they're true especially when you're saying it about a disabled character. Acting like he's worse than his peers because he doesn't have the capability of being socially aware is ableism, calling him a grandpa because he has had a rough life that made him look disheveled is ableism, saying he's past his prime is also ableist considering he learned how to fight *after* he became disabled.

Correct me if anything I said was wrong but I really got peeved after reading several people misinterpreting Mithrun as some sort of bigoted old man who must be taken to a retirement home as if he just causes trouble for people who care for him.

[majinbangus]

I literally just wanted a sugar daddy/mama!au. Maybe I'll talk about sugar daddies!141 x sugar baby!reader after this. I am not an expert in sugaring, so bear w me here. readers age is not told either, but i imagine reader to be younger than price.

Times are tough; the 141 need funding the government isn't willing to cough up. Price's solution? Getting them a sugar mama.

-

You never expected your profile to be picked. It was a silly thing you signed up for in a moment of weakness when you were feeling sad and lonely, wallowing after a messy break up. You even forgot about it after a week, throwing yourself in your self-made business, working when you didn't have to, but you needed to bury yourself in it. It's no surprise you forgot all about your little profile, but it is a surprise when you see a missed inquiry from a Mr. John Price about a day old.

Hello, darling. I've never been on this side of the message before, but my boys and I don't have many options, and I needed a solution fast. I saw your profile and I think you'd be a good match for us. We're a package deal, the four of us. You don't have to pay us exactly, we just need some funding for our work. My boys and I are willing to provide you with any type of company you desire. We don't mind sharing and we take care of what's ours. There are other little details we can go more in depth later, although I might not be able to tell you everything. I'd like to hear what you have to say and any questions you may have. Hope to hear from you soon, Capt. John Price

Everything about the message is... strange... to put it kindly, but you can't help but feel this Capt. John Price is being sincere. Maybe that's a naive, lonely part of you that's convincing yourself that the message is real and not some scam. Maybe you're desperate enough to believe someone- four someone's!- actually have an interest in you.

For what you can give them, but you're not entirely innocent either. This Captain Price- you assume he's military- said he and his boys will give you what you need, and if he's a man of his word, maybe they can distract you from all the noise in your head.

You stare at the message. It wouldn't hurt to take a risk, would it? You can always block the man if he ends up being a creep.

It takes you an hour to finally work up the nerve to craft a small message back to the man. It takes less than a minute for him to respond.

Glad to hear from you, darling. I'll tell you everything you need to know.

-

The rules are simple.

You fund them with enough money each month they need it for however long they need, and they'll give you all the companionship you want. Whether that's sexual or not is up to you. It doesn't matter to them, though John informed you that if it is sexual, you would need to discuss any limits with the other men yourself. With him, you got to briefly stutter through your likes and dislikes, and he did the same, after discussing all of the rules and expectations.

You don't know if you should be thankful or not when he listened with such intense focus. Like you were briefing him on a mission or whatever it is captains like him do. It makes you nervous. He makes you nervous. Not quite in a bad way, but you've never done this before. The idea of paying another person, well this task force, in exchange for some company to fill your pathetic void feels kind of... sad.

You almost talk yourself out of this whole crazy thing, but you're also kind of curious what could come of it. If John and his boys will really be able to distract you and make you forget how lonely you are.

Being alone, being lonely, never really bothered you before, but after your last relationship... It opened up some old wounds and this sugar arrangement could be the perfect distraction. If only for a while. You'll take whatever you can get at this point.

You look over the messages John sent you, lingering over the pictures he sent of him and the other three men. Well. Two men. John told you this Simon guy would show you his face himself if he wanted to. You don't know if it's a sexual thing or not or something else entirely. You were too afraid to ask, and you don't really know if you want to know. But the other three are handsome, if the pictures John sent aren't fake.

You're still not entirely sure you should trust him. Trust that you're not gonna get all your money stolen. The site you signed up on is reputable for sugar mamas and sugar babies. You couldn't find a bad review written about it. Only positive testimonies with positive outcomes. That could be suspicious in and of itself. Hopefully, you didn't make a mistake.

John said that he would meet you next week when he had time off. Alone. In a public space, but alone. He said he didn't want the boys to overwhelm you, and you're grateful for his consideration because you would have been overwhelmed if you met all of them at once.

You still have time to cancel, if the nerves get to you and you chicken out. John even told you you could back out any time you wanted. But. You want to do something different. You need to do something different. Get yourself out of your head and focus on anything else that doesn't make your mind feel like static.

These men can help with that. This'll be good for you. Probably.

As long as this doesn't end up with you mysteriously disappearing or getting murdered, you'll be content with whatever happens. Besides, it's good to do something out of your comfort zone, and what better way than becoming a sugar mama to four military men who can give you all the company and care you could ever want? Hell, that sounds weird to think about.

There are still little things you have to work around, such as their schedules, but John promised that at least one of them would always come when you called. Already, that gives you more comfort than he could ever know, and perhaps that's foolish of you, but it truly meant a lot when he told you that.

You scroll down to the last message John sent and feel something in your gut flutter.

Can't wait to meet you, Mama.

-

this might an anthology of sorts. maybe have some loose plot to it. idk.

[lenaellsi]

“Crowley is still an angel deep down” “Crowley is more of an angel than any of the archangels” “Crowley was only cast out because he needed to play his part in Armageddon, he's not a real demon” “Aziraphale wants to rebuild Heaven to be more like Crowley because he’s what an angel should be” no. Stop it. This is exactly where Aziraphale went wrong.

Crowley is 100% a demon. He's not actually a bit of an angel, and he's not cosmically better than any of the other demons we see in the series. He's much less vicious than most of them, yeah, but he's also much less vicious than most of the angels, because how “nice” a celestial being is has nothing to do with which side they're technically on. Crowley's kindness comes from him doing his best to help people despite the hurt he's suffered himself, not any sort of inherent residual or earned holiness. He was cast out just like the rest of the demons, and that's an important part of his history that shouldn't be minimized, excused, or, critically, 'corrected.'

Being angelic is not a positive or negative trait in the Good Omens universe. It's a species descriptor. Saying that Crowley is still an angel deep down because he helps people is an in-character thing for Aziraphale to think, certainly--Job and the final fifteen showed that in the worst possible way--but it's not something Crowley would ever react well to, and it's the main source of conflict in the entire "appoint you to be an angel" fiasco.

We know that Aziraphale thinks Crowley's fall was an injustice, but why? Well, because Crowley is actually Good, which means his fall was a mistake, or a test, or a regrettable error in judgment, or…something. Ineffable. Etc. The point is, he’s special, much better than those other demons, and if they can fix him and make him an angel again, everything will be fine! (So once Job's trials are over, everything will be restored to him? Praise be!) Aziraphale has to believe that Crowley's better traits come from traces of the angel he used to know and not the demon he's known for 6,000 years, because that’s how he can rationalize his incorrect view of Heaven as The Source Of Truth And Light And Good with his complicated feelings about Crowley's fall.

But Crowley's fall was not an injustice because he's actually a Good Person who didn't deserve it. Crowley's fall was an injustice because the entire system of dividing people into Good (obedient) and Bad (rebellious) is bullshit. Crowley is not an unfortunate exception to God's benevolence, he is a particularly sympathetic example of God's cruelty.

And really, Crowley doesn't behave at all like an angel, especially when he's at his best. All of the things that he's done that we as the audience consider Good are things that Heaven has directly opposed. (See: saving the goats and children in defiance of God in S2E2, convincing Aziraphale to give money to Elspeth despite Heaven's views on the "virtues of poverty" in S2E3, speaking out against the flood and the crucifixion in S1E3, tempting Aziraphale to enjoy earthly pleasures because he thinks they'll make him happy, stopping Armageddon.)

Heaven as an institution has never been about helping humanity. And that's not an issue of leadership, as Aziraphale seems to think--it's by design. Aziraphale's first official act as an angel toward humanity was to literally throw them to the lions. Giving them the sword wasn't him acting like an angel, it was just him being himself. Heaven doesn't care about humans. It's not supposed to. It's supposed to win the war against Hell, with humans as chess pieces at best and collateral damage at worst.

Yes, it's easier to think that there are forces that are supposed to be fundamentally good. It's easier to think that Aziraphale is going to show those mean archangels and the Metatron what’s coming to them and reform Heaven into what it "should" be, and that God is actually super chill and watching all of this while shipping ineffable husbands and cheering for them the whole way. And of course it's easier to take Crowley, who Aziraphale (and the audience) adores, and say that he deserves to be on the Good team much more than all those angels and demons that we don’t like. But that's not how it works. People are more complicated than that, even celestial beings.

Crowley is a demon, and the tragedy of his character is not that he's secretly a good guy who is being forced to be evil; the tragedy is that he's lived his whole life stuck between two institutional forces that are both equally hostile to the love he feels for the universe and the beings in it. There are no good and bad guys. There are no "right people." Every angel, demon, and human is capable of hurting or helping others based on their choices. That is, in fact, the entire fucking point.

[rillian4e]

{Missing you}

ft& Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Scaramouche

a/n: been so looong since my last post, I'm overwhelmed with exams and having to study😭🫠 trying to become more active as best as I can, so here's a little scenarios of various genshin men missing you and your body.

summary: your lover has been awfully busy these past weeks and you as well which resulted in you two rarely seeing the other, much less spending time with one another. it's late and your boyfriend finds himself desperate for you but you aren't there to help him.

sw: nsfw, fem!reader, afab, jerking off, humping for alhaitham, needy men, a little bit of size kink for wrio's part, slight pet names, lowercase writing etc.

neuvillette who finds himself buried in paperwork in his office inside the palais mermonia but he still cannot get his mind off you, how he wished he had you here with him, cockwarming him on his lap while he worked—simply imagining it makes his pants feel tight, he misses having your warm folds around his shaft, the way you'd always let out the prettiest sounds when he even slightly touched you or raised his hips... he doesn't even realize that he has long forgotten his work, his hand around his cock, spreading the pre over his length as he gave a few pumps making him groan. "hnngh...so hard and you're not here to help me, I am acting in such a vulgar way, it's embarrassing yet...yet I can't get you out of my mind..." he mumbled to himself, fantasizing that it was your lips wrapped around him, sucking him in while playing with his balls while he only fucked himself deeper in your throat, when he came, he opened his eyes to see his hand coated with his cum, "...ah, what a mess, if only you were here to clean it up." finally returning to his senses after he relieved himself, he heard a knock on the door, "monsiuer neuvillette, is everything alright?" he was caught off guard by the question of the melusine behind the door, quickly he composed himself, hoping no one would come in and see him in such an embarrassing situation. "yes, of course. there is nothing to worry about, everything is alright." now he knew he needed to take a break and have you on his lap for real, not just fantasizing about it.

—★°•☆

being the duke meant wriothesley had a lot of responsibilities and he always fulfilled them accordingly but sometimes he was tired of it, spending so many nights here without seeing his pretty angel was unbearable. he missed having you in his arms, your small body pressed against his much bigger one—not to mention having you bent over his desk while he fucked you from behind, squeezing your tits while he rubbed tight circles on your swollen clit. the way you'd always tremble and cry tears of pleasure at him being so big and mean...archons, his cock is already rock hard at the thought of having your little pussy around his length. he is quick to free his cock from his pants, teasing the slit and stroking himself as he imagined everything he'd to you when he and you finally met again. "f-fuck...gonna breed you s' much when i see you...fuck you till you can't think about anything except this dick." he growled as he looked down at his erection, letting out a groan as he reached his climax.

—☆°○★

the ever so stoic and composed alhaitham never thought he'd feel this way, he wasn't the type to be affected by such things yet he couldn't seem to stop finding himself drift his thoughts onto you, he's preoccupied with a big project and the akademiya has only gotten more hectic, so his work hours have increased which is why you two didn't have any time together. when he came home, he felt exhausted but he was so sexually pent up and his cock was already dripping pre-cum. he tried ignoring it but couldn't, so he caved in—calculative as usual, alhaitham knew you had left a pair of panties at his place, it was bad habit of yours to leave your belongings at his house, he'd surely scold you before but now he was glad that you were so careless. sitting himself down he wrapped your panties around his cock, thinking of you and getting off on your smell. the panties did little to soothe his ache for your warm cunt but he'd have to do with what he had. "miss you...miss you so much...wish it was your pussy instead of your panties," he let out little pants alongside groans, his breathing heavy and warm as he came on your underwear.

—★•°☆

who would have thought that the former sixth of the fatui harbingers, the ever so arrogant and prideful, scaramouche, would have such vulgar lewd and dirty fantasies of you, his lover while you're away in another nation. he certainly would never tell you how badly he wants you when you're away, he thinks it's humiliating but doesn't care when he knows you probably feel the same way, when you get back, he will make up for having you not be there for him to fuck and ravage as his possession. his cock hardens at the thought of having you submit to him, cry and lay there helpless as you take what he gives you. even as he pumped his hard erection, his focus went over to you—how would you react if you were here? would you get aroused to see him jerking off so shamelessly? "s-shit...shit, close," he let out a needy whine as his cum spurted out, scaramouche felt better but it wasn't nowhere near as enough, "haa...if only you were here, my pretty and obedient slut..." he sighed as he closed his eyes, thinking of you and when you will be back, hopefully soon because he cannot handle not having you there to relieve his needs.

[livingdeadhorse]

idk what this is. i like robots. i’ll clean these up later. i think.

anyways while drawing these I started thinking abt like. idk does this count as an AU.

General shit:

I didn't make it clear, but the robots that have pupils were built without a hardcoded purpose. They've always been free to explore what they want to do. The robots with fully colored "scleras" were created with a purpose from the jump, so their creators didn't feel the need to make them appear more "human".

The more expensive a robot's parts are, the less clunky it is.

Right now, I'm going with "their human family built them" but that's liable to change.

The designs are also liable to change because uh. duh.

Celestia Ludenberg:

Viewed the robots with an imbued purpose as interesting and superior (something something humanity's advancement). She wants to be praised like that, so she emulates them

Her cat loves how much heat she radiates so it's always near her.

Most of her upgrades are cosmetic but if they aren't, they're stupid. She won't upgrade her CPU or her motherboard, but she'll load up with three 4090s that her other components can't even keep up with. Yes, she does it to flex.

She'll distract from bootleg, refurbished, or shoddily painted parts by turning on her RGB. It gets annoying.

She knows that she's fairly unsettling and she revels in it.

All things considered, her cable management is pretty good.

Her gambling skill is still just luck here, but she tells everyone it's because she has a never-seen-before GPU(& CPU) that does calculations at insane speeds.

Most don't believe her but have no way to disprove her lie.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

I can't decide if he was built by his father or his grandfather.

Either way, he was built before Toranosuke's downfall, so his internals were all pretty expensive for the time. Luckily for him, that means he was slightly future-proof and has a viable upgrade path.

Unluckily for him, this means he's stuck with really old parts and his 8gb of RAM can barely keep up in a 32gb world sadge

His chassis is built from secondhand or scrap parts. It's why his joints are so ancient in comparison to the rest of him and why he has so much cabling that he can't seem to manage.

Shit chassis = shit airflow = he is always overheating

BUDDY IS YOUR CPU BURNING HOW IS THERE SMOKE

Older tech = LOUD AF. The class bought him new fans to avoid the loud ass whirring. It's not quiet but he used to sound like a jet engine.

He runs on Debian. It was originally going to be Arch since it's lightweight but Debian's whole "old but stable" reputation fits him more. I don't see him properly dealing with bleeding edge software anyways.

His room is filled with past HDDs that no longer have storage. He deems all educational material important so he refuses to delete any lessons. He doesn't have the money for SSDs.

Mukuro Ikusaba:

Is usually in reconnaissance mode, meaning she has a shit ton of hidden cameras in her chassis

This used to benefit Fenrir. Now it benefits Junko.

She can have her parts shifted around with no issue to make room for a better arsenal.

She’s durable in her reconnaissance mode but she’s nigh on untouchable in her combat mode. Her chassis gets 10x bulkier and she can split her attention to several different tasks on the battlefield.

Fenrir Mercenary Group doubles as a weapons company. Mukuro is the only model of her kind though.

They tried to give her reconnaissance model the look of a “normal girl” so she could gather info more efficiently. They failed real bad. They also didn’t account for the fact that Mukuro isn’t good at socializing.

She allocates a CPU core to a process dedicated to Junko. 24/7 365

She believes herself to be less capable of emotion than she actually is. She can’t seem to find the system process that triggers such painful emotions.

Chihiro Fujisaki

Each “fold” in her skirt doubles as a screen. Think of the skirt as having two layers: the top shell and the under shell. The top shell is what doubles as a screen.

Optimized her hardware to work on code as fast as possible (fingers, skirt, etc).

She tends to test out new software on herself regardless of their compatibility with her pre-existing shit. She constantly has to reinstall her OS, but it’s all fun for her.

Speaking of her OS, I was going to make her run on Gentoo but IDK cause of the compile times. It’d be faster if she used distcc but I can’t see her screwing over her classmates like that lol.

So I’m between Nix and Arch.

Insecure about the fact that she overhauled her original model so extensively. Got made fun of for being a ‘defective’ robot. Her father supports her modifications but she still feels bad about having ‘failed’ somehow.

Cue identity issues

She helps out her classmates when it comes to repairs.

Tendency to stay up programming leads to high uptimes. If her friends notice her lagging or crashing, they’ll try to get her to shut down. (In a computer sense lol, not an emotional shut down)

Do y’all remember the xz utils backdoor? Yeah that’s how extensively she combs through code.

Sayaka Maizono

I can’t decide if she was built to be an idol or was originally some other type of robot.

Loves to make kids smile, so she has a sort of candy mechanism in her arm.

Everything about her glows or spins. You will never get bored looking at her.

Her skirt isn’t actually see through I just didn’t feel like erasing the hip joints lmao.

If corpos give her manager enough money, she has to perform with literal ads on her.

State-of-the art facial recognition software. It makes her fans feel special to have their names remembered.

She has a regular sleep cycle due to how load-intensive her everyday life is. Has to shut down for a couple hours every week at least.

Her psychic ability is just her running a million calculations based on people’s behavior and sensing which one is most plausible. This feature is in place to avoid PR disasters during interviews or public appearances.

There really aren’t enough worker’s rights regulations in place for robots.

The company gets alerts whenever she freaks tf out, so she feels even more stifled and repressed. Chihiro helped remove this.

Kyoko Kirigiri

Can’t decide if she was built by her father or grandfather. Probably just built by Jin and he “left” her in Fuhito’s care.

Fuhito made her go through several modifications, hardcoding his own investigative skills into her system.

Her grandfather loves her but has fucked up ideas about her own autonomy.

The events of DR:K still happen. She chose not to replace her hands.

Fuhito doesn’t make much use of a backdoor in her system anymore. He used it a lot more when she was a child but he sees her as a viable heir of the Kirigiri clan now. Chihiro isolated the backdoor to a separate SSD anyhow.

Still complicated father-daughter issues

Everything about her (but her OS) is proprietary, probably commissioned from Towa Industries. Her OS is a fork of Mint. The Windows 7 UI is just because I imagine her grandfather is One of Those lmao.

Has way too many scanners and sensors. She can’t test any evidence herself but she can gather a fair bit of information. Has a vast database for cross-comparison anyways.

Same issues as Togami and Mukuro: sees herself as less capable of emotion than she actually is.

The ramen noodle incident called for actual repairs.

Byakuya Togami

His superiority complex is far worse because he was literally CREATED to be the perfect Togami. You can’t tell him shiiiiiiit.

Gold joints. Scoffs at those with unoptimized cable management or software.

He’s constantly streamlining his own processes. Brings up that he runs on his own OS when Nobody Asked.

Had a similar backdoor to Kyoko’s but Koji did check that one. Obsessively. Nobody would tell Byakuya but He Just Knew. The lack of privacy irritated him. Aloysius helped fix it once Togami finally took over.

Only trusts Aloysius with his repairs. Has a hard time admitting when he needs repairs in the first place so Aloysius hides it under “monthly maintenance”.

Does everything from the terminal even when he 1) shouldn’t and 2) can’t. Bragging rights. He has written a bunch of his own scripts though to speed things up.

Kernel and OS provided to him by Koji. (UNIX-based. Proprietary) Byakuya maintains and builds his own updates. Doesn’t trust cheapskate peasants to do it for him.

Anti-FOSS. For him at least.

Has glasses for the aesthetics. Doesn’t need them.

[schtrawberry]

[3] personal astrology observations

[!] this is mostly an introspective view into my chart; in no way, shape, or form am i saying that any of this is fact or set in stone, nor am i saying that i am a professional astrologer. these are just presences that exist within my chart that i've felt manifest themselves in real life. simply put, take what resonates and leave what doesn't :)

— the observation that venus in the 9th house and sagittarius mars natives are far more likely to be attracted to foreigners and/or meet their future partner/s in a foreign country is true!

[nothing, just felt like confirming, esp as someone w both these placements 🤭 like, i honestly am more likely to be approached (in a romantic setting) by a foreigner both in-person and online!]

═ sun square neptune is the aspect of daydreamers. they're always thinking about an idealized version of the future or dwelling on the past. rarely do they ever think in the present. it is often easier for them to drift off into a daze either thinking about what could have been or everything that could be.

☰ chiron in fifth house indicates pain associated with creative passions and self-expression. one may have had negative experiences that have led them to feel insecure about these aspects of life; thus leading them to distance themselves from openly expressing themselves creatively. they may take great care to keep their works of art private, tone down certain parts of their personality, and may even feel ashamed to explain themselves when others ask them about certain aspects of their creative and self-expression because of negative feedback they could have gotten in the past.

but with such pain comes empathy and understanding. once developed, these natives are the first to take notice and are the fastest to lend a sensitive ear as well as a supportive hand as soon as they see others going through the same struggle.

☱ sun-lilith in harsh aspects might have been told to cover up more by both peers and grown-ups, even when wearing "acceptable" clothing when they were kids. this placement can indicate an individual that was more sexualized from a young age, which can lead to them either being hypersexual or overly-reserved sexually in adulthood.

☲ lilith in the 7th house can indicate an individual that struggles to commit and open up about who they are to their partner/s. people with lilith in this house may have had bad experiences with marriage (perhaps witnessing bad divorces or tumultuous long-term relationships between their parents) and therefore might be turned off by the thought of marriage and/or long-term partnerships.

and though this doesn't mean that the native will be a lone soul forever, it does make one more likely to have these sort of relationships at a significantly older age in comparison to other signs.

[tw: mention of domestic violence in my personal experience, i have witnessed my parents go through an incredibly bad separation (tons of emotional abuse, infidelity, and a situation actually involving domestic violence) which has honestly made me quite hesitant to get married, even as i approach my mid-20s.]

☴ the cancer rising urge to cry when someone you care about is crying or in distress in general.

☴ a few asteroid notes:

note: asteroids are less impactful to one's personality, physicality, etc. compared to personal planets. they tend to only be relevant to one's chart if they are either in a tight orb (0-1°) or have major aspects to personal planets, preferably conjunctions or oppositions.

✢ messalina (545) known as the most promiscuous woman in rome, empress messalina is still recognized today as a symbol of uncontrolled, violent, irrational, and impulsive behavior. this asteroid reminds me very much of lilith in that it is representative of dark feminine energy and having this prominent in one's chart can be indicative of an individual that is not afraid to use their sexuality to their advantage or to create harm unto others in different aspects of their lives, but especially in terms of romantic and sexual relationships.

✢ anagolay (3757) is an potentially hazardous asteroid named after anagolay, the tagalog goddess of lost things and the daughter of the hermaphroditic goddess of seasons, lakapati. she is culturally-recognized for her ability to find not only physical objects but also abstract possessions like lost opportunities and faded memories. having this prominent in one's chart can suggest an individual that is very in-tune with cycle of nature and the subsequent passage of time. they may be more sensitive to bouts of nostalgia where they dwell on things that could have been and the way that things were. may also just indicate a person that is hypersensitive to losing physical things, though.

[`] film: go (2001) dir. isao yukisada

last / next

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

Characters: Savanaclaw dorm (Leona, Jack, Ruggie) ×GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

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Leona's ideal type would be...

Someone who knows themselves and their worth. Leona might be apathetic and somewhat lazy, but he knows exactly what he's capable of. While he is willing to nudge people in the right direction, he doesn't want to deal with any dead weight.

Someone who doesn't take things at face value. He thinks having people who do what he wants are an advantage, but he doesn't think highly of any brainless followers. You are allowed to question him, disagree with him, even completely go against him. You also can disagree whenever he says he's "fine" and "just tired" whenever he's been skipping classes for too many days in a row, and there's an unopened letter from Falena on his desk.

Someone who doesn't mock his sleeping habits. Leona has some chaoric sleeping patterns, and he often doesn't sleep for a full night. If he says it's naptime, then it's naptime, and you don't get to do more than playfully argue. He'll also allow you to join him if you keep quiet enough.

Someone who doesn't belittle him. He knows he will never be enough. He knows he's just a second choice, if not less than that. He knows that he will not always be your top priority. And he doesn't believe you when you say or prove to him otherwise. But it's the first time he enjoys seeing someone try to prove him wrong.

『••✎••』

Jack's ideal type would be...

Someone who doesn't share his black and white way of thinking. Jack had a very rigid code of conduct, and he sticks to it religiously. While his views can't always be challenged, he likes the idea that regardless of your way of thinking you're still willing to understand him, and he's willing to do the same.

Someone who wants a serious relationship. As a wolf beastman and a witness of the dedicated love the generations before him showed, Jack has some very idealised expectations for his love life. He doesn't jump into relationships right away, and he's open with what he wants from the very beginning of your relationship. lf you stick around, he'll take it you feel the same.

Someone who is more of a realist. Jack finds enjoyment in becoming the best version of himself on all levels. Yet, he struggles to keep an open mind when he's decided to do something. Reminding him to give up on his tunnel vision from time to time and see the bigger picture brings him back to reality and makes him feel thankful for you and your ability to remind him to be a bit more real with his plans.

Someone he can care for. This is not a matter of size or personality, and while Jack knows you'll always have his back, it's very important for him to feel like he's also protecting you. Some of it does stem from his view on relationships, but he also likes caring for people. Let him brush your hair after he grooms his fur, or let him reach for that one book you need that's just out if reach.

『••✎••』

Ruggie'a ideal type would be...

Someone who saves leftovers for him. This is kind of obvious: Ruggie has some bad food anxiety, because he grew up not really knowing when his next meal would be. Someone who helps him soothe some of that anxiety will make his heart feel fluttery.

Someone that sticks with him through thick and thin. Spotted hyenas stick together in clans and have a very strict hyerarchy. However, Ruggie is also an opportunist, and you can't expect him to always stand by your side if you don't do the same. Unwavering loyalty has to be at the base of your relationship no matter what, and don't let it falter once you reach that point.

Someone who doesn't let him rely too much on his bad habits. And by that I mean mostly his pickpocketing habits. Yeah, you can't really stop him from stealing from Leona's wallet whenever he gets ahold of it, but he'll remember you made him a sweather! You gifted him a blanket! You invited him over for dinner! Okay, maybe he has himself somewhat covered already, shyehehehehe.

Someone who loves unconditionally. Everytime you show him affection without really expecting anything in return, his mind goes back to the days when he was little, and his grams told him stories about love that conquered all, love that made everything easier. He never thought of himself as worthy of that type of love.... But with you in his arms and head on his chest, then maybe... just maybe...

『••✎••』

[pomefioredove]

Just read the whole "Yuu gets sold off by Crowley" stories and OMLLL THEYRE SO GOOD XDDD Any chance you could do more on it like if Niege won or if the parents heard about it and also decided to adopt Yuu and Grim?? Maybe the other staff adopting her too or more on Crewel's adoption please???

requests for the crewel ending are in high demand I see...

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending | RSA ending

summary: a crewel ending type of post: short fic, mostly speculation characters: crewel ft. other staff additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, definitely pre-book seven, parents being cringe

If Crewel were allowed to beat Crowley to death with one of his designer handbags, he would have.

...Unfortunately, with the adoption paperwork fees (...and a need for more designer handbags), he regrettably still needs this job.

And he'd like to keep an eye on you while you're still here, too.

The animosity between Crowley and the rest of the staff is unspoken, shared through passing glances and dry remarks at meetings, and though the matter is "settled", in Crowley's own words, no one seems keen on letting it go anytime soon.

The students who participated in the bidding war are subject to months worth of extra homework, harder exams, and worse studying hours from Crewel himself. To teach them a little responsibility, he says.

You, at least, are exempt from his radical new lesson plan. You have enough on your plate as it is.

After all, as soon as the legal proceedings are through and your identity as an autonomous human being in Twisted Wonderland is secured, the "fun" begins.

Your uniforms are tailored and rightly fit, you're given a proper meal plan, even Ramshackle is decorated with a few of Crewel's personal touches. A throw rug here and there, a fresh coat of paint, anything to cover up the rotting interior and turning it into something worthy of envy.

"...Given that Grim doesn't start shedding everywhere," Crewel had said. "Ugh, pets."

The rest of the staff are just as helpful, citing your recent experience with the bidding war as reason to take it easier on you for a while (or for the rest of the semester, really). Trein gives you less homework, Sam "accidentally" doesn't ring you up a few items...

It starts to feel more like the entirety of the staff has adopted you.

Not that you mind, of course. This is the closest thing you've had to family since... well, since coming here.

There's just the one thing, though.

"I don't know why you waste your time with those untrained pups. Honestly. The idea of their tacky shoes touching the rugs in here..." Crewel sighs. His eyes turn to you. "You know, I hear Vil Schoenheit has been looking for someone to take to his next shoot..."

Ashton chuffs. "Don't be ridiculous, they need someone who's strong enough to take care of them! Kingscholar is a real star once he gets motivated,"

"Please tell me I didn't just hear that," Crewel massages his temples. "And might I add, I'm their father, not you. I give the blessing. You're more like the unwelcome uncle crashing the family barbeque."

Grim nudges you with his elbow, muttering a quick yikes before darting out of the kitchen. You groan in embarrassment. "Guys..."

"I'm just thinking about what's best for them," Ashton says, puffing out his chest. "They're at an age where they're going to start thinking about dating, and we want them to make good choices."

"Guys,"

"Exactly. Schoenheit is a perfect gentleman, a master in my class, and has the style to back him up. Kingscholar can demonstrate occasional intelligence, but he's still another housecat," he shudders. "The shedding..."

A tired voice from the doorway interrupts their tense back-and-forth, much to your relief.

"Goodness, the two of you, at this again?" Trein scoffs, taking a seat at the table. "This conversation is highly inappropriate. You shouldn't be controlling the poor thing's romantic prospects, if they even have them. When the time comes, the choice will be theirs to make."

Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. Ashton kicks his feet. And neither utter another word.

"Good," Trein says, then clears his throat. "Ahem. But that's not to say that we can't offer our guidance. That Vanrouge did quite well on the last History of Magic exam..."

You groan.

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [1/…]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“So, I don’t blame you if you want to bury me in your memories,”

— Mitski, "Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Canon Typical Violence, Slight Canon Divergence, Buggy is an asshole, The reader used to go by "Cross-Hairs" in the past.

A/N: I’m basing this primarily on the LA! version of “One Piece”, as I’ve just recently begun to watch the Anime.

Luffy, for his unyielding devotion towards his dreams of becoming the King of Pirates, evidently lacks the sense of foresight required of a pirate to successfully navigate the seven seas. Then again, it's nothing new.

You’ve always known. The kid's been a hazard to society even in his youth; no filter between his brain and his mouth despite the ungodly amount of food he pushes between his jaws. You used to watch him make his proclamations in front of Shanks' merry band with little more than vaguely piqued interest, indifferent to the youthful albeit naive optimism he exhibited.

Shanks, meanwhile, always used to find his demeanor endearing - “He’s a good kid. Let him dream,”

And so you let him. You watched him dream for the next ten years, making sure that his dreams didn't catch the wrong kind of attention until he was old enough to hold his own weight.

However, back then, Luffy's actions seldom warranted any real consequences. Save for the incident with the Bandit and the Sea King, he's rarely been in any real danger prior to his debut as a pirate.

An unruly child spouting declarations of desiring to become the next “King of Pirates” hardly would’ve caused more of a ripple effect than to make other people shake their heads and laugh. And if it did, you were there to make sure it didn’t.

Now, not only has his actions earned you the ire of the Marines by stealing the Map of the Grand Line, but it has also garnered the attention of other opponents. Far more dangerous ones than the likes of Alvida or even that Axe-Hand Moron.

It was only a matter of time.

So when you find yourself waking up in a wooden cage with the rest of your reluctant crew mates, accompanied by a head-throbbing headache at that, your first instinct is to heave an exasperated sigh.

"Goddamn it."

"Oh, you're up." It's Luffy. He looks unharmed, albeit disoriented, not too unlike yourself. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I just snorted a bottle of rum through my nostrils." You get up into a crouching position, eying your surroundings, which doesn't leave much up for inspection considering your cage consists of broad wide planks. "What the fuck happened?"

The last thing you recall before being knocked out was a Jolly Roger in the distance, too far away for you to make out properly. So, not Marines, but pirates.

You can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing.

"Think we wouldn't have told you if we knew?" The swordsman - Zoro - replies with a deadpan look of boredom on his face as he attempts to peek through the cracks in your confinement. You have half a mind to tell him where to shove it but opt for a more quiet approach.

It's during moments like these when you realize you actually miss that scrawny pink-haired kid with the glasses - Koby. He never spoke to you like this. Granted, he was probably intimidated by the way you were always hovering behind Luffy like a silent guardian, but he didn't provide unnecessary comments like Bounty Hunter over there does.

Small blessings and all that. Very small.

You provide a solid kick to the plank on Zoro's right side without warning, catching him off-guard and earning you a short-lived glare. The planks loosen considerably, probably not meant to contain you for long.

Meanwhile, you listen half-heartedly to Luffy and Nami as they discuss the potential identities of your captors.

"They're not marines," Luffy assures her. "Before I got knocked out, I saw a Jolly Roger. We've been captured by pirates."

You glance at him from over your shoulder. "What'd it look like?"

"I don't know, it looked ... like ..." he pauses in thought. "A skull with crossbones, and a red ... dot? It almost looked like a nose, if bones could have noses, but they don't."

The blood in your veins freezes up, as does the rest of your body until their voices blur into nothing.

You've been keeping occasional track of him in the years that's passed since you parted ways, and when he amounted to a considerable bounty on his head, his signature Jolly Roger was hard not to miss on his wanted posters.

-------

"I didn't know there were so many pirates."

You tilt your head at the wall decorated with various wanted posters of different pirates, some more torn and discoloured than others, some more dead than others. You can't find your own amongst them in Shells Town, but then again, it has been some time since last you were on the Marines' radar. More likely than not, your poster is hidden somewhere underneath the several layers of—

"Hey, there's yours!" Luffy damn-near exclaims in wonder and points at— Oh yeah, there it is, right above Foxy's poster, a little yellow around the edges but still holding strong.

WANTED Dead or Alive "Cross-Hairs" 25,000,000

"Oh, wow, a 25-million bounty. That's a lot of berries."

The image is well over a decade old, taken back in your early twenties, and you were much more easy to identify back then. You were sharper in some angles, softer in others, compared to the present.

You look different now. Less robust, a little older, but no less dangerous in the grand scheme of things. Your sharp eyes remain the same, a trait Gol D. used to remark upon with a mischievous glimmer in his own eyes.

"You have eyes sharp enough to cut through steele," he'd say and ruffle your hair. A sense of loss perforating your being at the memory.

Despite being in your thirties, age tends to alter the appearance of most people, and you consider that a pretty good advantage right about now as you're standing surrounded by an army of Marine officers. Given the fact that you've spent the last couple of years away from the sea without a trace or clue, the World Government probably assumes you've died or gone into hiding.

Be that as it may, they didn't even bother to decrease the bounty since last time. How odd.

While Luffy spends a few moments admiring your old picture like a child that just learned their relative is some kind of famous celebrity, Koby is less than enthralled by this revelation.

"T-That's one of the highest bounties in the East-Blue." He is hesitant to look up at you. "What did ... What did you do to earn it?"

"A little here, a little there. Kicked a few asses, stole a bit of treasure along the way. Nothing too bad." You admit with a half-assed shrug as you continue to inspect the various posters.

For the boy's peace of mind, you won't go into the less ... child-friendly details regarding your reputation. About the way you used to fight to the blood with most of your opponents, Marines and pirates in equal measure. How you'd stand victorious atop a pile of broken limbs and pleading sounds from the defeated crowd.

"Yeah, yeah ..." Koby agrees with a feeble nod. "There are way worse pirates on the Grand Line."

Your gaze happens upon a particular wanted poster, and your demeanor stiffens. Not enough to notice from an ordinary point of view, but it does nonetheless.

His sharp cerulean eyes and bright red nose seem to mock you from his picture, and a heavy feeling settles in your heart. A feeling of hurt and betrayal you've long since thought abandoned in the corners of your heart. Not even the loss of your old captain could hope to compare to it

You snap back to Luffy, your voice a little strained as you speak though you desperately try to cover it up. "Are we done here, Luffy?"

------

It's your fucking luck it had to be him of all people to come after Luffy first.

Why him?

Fuuuuuu—

"We don't need to fight." Luffy's voice snaps you back to the present. "I can talk to them, pirate to pirate."

"Not with this one," you whisper more to yourself than anyone else. The only one who seems to catch onto this is Zoro, but the moment he opens his mouth to ask, Nami beats him to it.

A discussion regarding the duality of piracy quickly causes you to lose all interest in the following sequence.

You don't trust either the thief or the bounty hunter as far as you can throw them, and the feeling is mutual in both parts. Sure, they proved useful in getting rid of the Axe-Hand, and have had thus far been tolerable enough for you not to throw them overboard.

Still, Zoro recognized you on the spot where the Marines failed to, and though Nami doesn't, your status as a pirate is enough reason for her to distrust you.

As mentioned, you don't trust them, but Luffy does, and his lead is the only one you'll follow. This is his voyage, and you’re not here to keep him from making mistakes unless you consider them particularly vital. If this bites him in the end, then you'll be there to keep him afloat.

After all, you made a promise to your old red-haired friend.

"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream."

With no patience left to wait to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible, you prepare to kick through the planks. Just then, the top piece of your confinements unfold, and what you're greeted with is the pinpoint definiton of a fever dream on acid.

Tightrope walkers swinging in the air, acrobatics performing acts of impressive feats, someone fire-breathing, and-- was that a guy juggling on a unicycle passing you just now?

A circus troupe. You've been captured by a fucking circus troupe.

"Oh, what the actual fuck?" Is all you can manage to mutter, a sentiment Zoro surprisingly agrees with if the nod he adds serves as any indication.

The troupe has an audience, you come to observe in the distance. They're clapping and cheering on cue with the sign being held in the air, yet they look ... wrong. Forced. Puppets with strings embedded in their limbs, so to speak.

You narrow your eyes in distaste at the view. The hell has he been up to as of late?

In the midst of the enforced round of applause, a voice gradually makes itself more and more prominent through the masses. Deeper and huskier since last you heard it, but yet painfully known to your ears.

"No, no, no, NO! Stop clapping!"

And then he appears. The ringleader himself, exasperated as he throws his arms out to each side and effectively silencing the crowd.

"No, stop! This is all wrong!"

You momentarily forget to breathe as you watch him come into view from behind the audience. He's taller than the last you saw him, that's for damn certain. Must've hit a second growth spurt in your absence because, while you were relatively on equal foot in your youth, he now seems to have grown a head or so taller than yourself.

And like yourself, he's changed, and not inherently for the better. It's a relative statement considering that the life of a pirate is oftentimes a hard one, but it's a fact nonetheless. The years have not been any kinder to him than they've been for yourself. He still has the same hair, the same general appearance, but he's changed.

Out of the three of you, Shanks seems to have had it the easiest in recent years, appearance-wise. He never lost his smile or affinity for the brighter things in life, even when he had his damn arm chewed off.

Meanwhile, you lost your dreams, and he seems to have lost everything you recognized about him in your youth. His smile, his laughter, and even his stance had been replaced by some replica that fails to hold a candle to the original one.

This is a show master, not your friend. Then again, you haven't been friends for a long time now.

Still, changed as he may be from an outward point of view, Buggy's eyes have not. They're clear like the seas, just as they were long ago. (And his nose, of course. How could you forget?).

You can't tell if that's a relief yet.

You're not a fearful person by nature, having lost the distinct ability years ago. Now, however, you feel the tremors vibrating through your ribcage at the sight of him. That's why you decide to turn your face slightly to the side for now, hoping to prolong the inevitable.

Fortunately, your presence evades Buggy's notice for just a while longer as he berates his crew. "The spotlight was late! You completely missed my entrance!"

The sound of said spotlight changing its focus can be heard.

"And where, oh where, was the dancing lion?"

Good! While he's occupied, maybe you can find the right moment to grab Luffy and get the hell--

"Hey! I know you! I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town!"

... You want to dig a hole in the sand and bury yourself right about now.

"You're the clown guy! Uhm ... Binky, right?"

Buggy, you scream inside as you suppress the urge to yank Luffy by the shoulders and shake him until all of his limbs drop down on the ground. Fuck Shanks and fuck the promise. He's Buggy the fucking Clown, and you did not have to go out of your way to pinpoint that fact!

In your internal state of dismay, you settle with trying to locate potential escape routes. Maybe a hole in the walls of the tent, or an absent-minded guard by the entrance. You're stronger than most, with years of experience behind you, but you're not capable of fighting your way through a crowd with three tagalongs so seamlessly.

"Buggy," the man of the hour states as he approaches, still having failed to notice you. "Buggy the Clown."

No one says anything, which he takes as a sign to continue on with - what you personally regard - as a moronic long line of titles.

"Buggy, the Flashy Fool." Still nothing. He raises his arms, like a lost puppy begging for scraps of recognition. "Buggy, the Genius Jester."

Seriously, what's with him and all the names? He’s always been … overdramatic, but this cuts the cake even for him.

"Wow," Luffy seems genuinely impressed, a stark contrast to his companions, who would rather be anywhere than here. "You have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are."

A range of gasps echo from the unwilling audience, and you finally snap your head to the front in alarm. Fuck, he couldn't have used a better word than that. Granted, Luffy didn't mean it in that context, or even that word, but it doesn't matter.

Another thing that hasn't changed about Buggy... And that very same thing might as well be what snaps him out of his theatric act.

You thought Buggy finally would've noticed you by now, seeing it as you're finally willing to face him, but his eyes remain eerily glued to the kid.

"What did you just say?" Buggy asks, calmly.

Way too calmly for your liking.

Oh, no.

Luffy blinks in confusion. "Just that everyone knows who you are?"

You notice the clown lunging before Luffy does.

In the span of a second, you plant yourself between them, the only barrier between him and the clown's rage. You don't move an inch even as Buggy closes in with his gloved hand outstretched towards the boy, having not yet registered your sudden appearance until his fingers are inches from your face.

Your eyes finally lock, the blue in his eyes more prominent now than ever. Almost two decades since the last time you saw each other, and Buggy ceases his attempted assault as though time itself freezes.

At first, there is nothing in his eyes but surprise. Anger. Maybe even a trace of admiration towards the one who dared stand against him. Hot and burning beneath his irises, like glowing embers left behind in a dying pyre.

Finally, there is recognition, and the fire reignites warmer and scorching more than ever before.

He doesn't say anything at first, and neither do you, but the glare in your eyes conveys the message loudly enough that even the performers and troupe members alike know not to interfere.

"Leave him be."

You think of what to say, what you can say, after years of being silent. A simple “Hi” will not suffice, and considering the way of which you parted, there is little room for confessions.

Then, Buggy begins to laugh.

It starts out as a whisper of a chuckle, then gradually develops until he's full-out holding his stomach in wheezes, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and smudging his make-up.

He points his arm up as he tries to contain himself, and the guy holding the APPLAUSE-sign picks up on the subliminal message. Everyone in the place begins to laugh, both the captives and the captors, so loudly this time that it makes you feel small in a way you haven’t felt since you were a child.

You glance cautiously around yourself, sharing brief looks with your companions before the noises abruptly stop, having most likely been forced to do so.

When you look back at Buggy again, he's smiling wider than ever, but his eyes hold no genuine humor. No, there's an unidentifiable emotion swirling in the depths of his blue eyes that you fail to decipher before he speaks.

"Well, well, well! Isn't this an unexpected surprise?" He raises his arm to gesture to you, as if you're an exotic exhibition behind a display case for everyone to behold. The spotlight is now aimed at you, momentarily blinding your vision.

"Ladies and gentlemen! It is my honor to present to you, the one and only, the myth, the legendary 'Cross-Hairs'! The Beast of the East!"

Applause rings again in the air as Buggy continues.

"She was famous throughout all of East Blue for her many endeavors, with a bounty greater than even yours flashy truly." Admitting that fact looks like it physically hurt him, but he prevails. "And then, almost ten years ago, after her biggest heist yet, she just POOFS!" He snaps his fingers and lets them slowly decline for dramatic effect. "Vanishes out of the blue. Leaving the seas for an unforeseen amount of time."

It would seem like you were keeping track of each other all along.

The next words Buggy utters are so hushed that only you hear them, and his smile is gone.

"Then again, you do have a track-record of leaving things behind, haven’t you?"

Oh, the fucking nerve of this guy. You take a step forward, clenching and unclenching you jaw so much your teeth feel on the bring of cracking. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

You’re about to shout back at him, argue, throwing every caution to the wind just to correct him and scream:

("You're the one who left me, remember?")

Before you can, something taps your right shoulder. Thinking it's Luffy, you turn around, and the last thing you recall before it all fades to black is an air of red dust clouding your vision.