#open a dictionary for fuck's sake

[alyceinwonderland777]

PSA for fandoms

This is the true meaning of the word romanticize, meaning that no Susan, if I think that a particular fictional villain is sexy I'm not romanticizing him.

Please, don't use words whose meaning you don't know because you will look ridiculous.

[oddinary4bts]

To Give a Helping Hand | jjk

☆summary: when Jungkook comes home from the gym, he goes feral thinking about you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: masturbation. that's it, that's the whole thing. Cumshot on his hand tattoos. Jungkook is hella horny for reader and jerks off thinking about her - fantasies of oral sex (male and female receiving), of unprotected sex, of rough sex, of hickeys and marking (scratches on the back), of shower sex, of spanking, of choking, of creampies, of clit play, of fingering and squirting. Multiple orgasms, lowkey pain kink and praise kink (let me know if I forgot something)

☆word count: 1.8k (I think it's the shortest thing I've ever written on here lmao)

☆a/n: pure unedited sins bc mr jeon jungkook makes me horny despite being in the army. hope this doesn't disappoint lmaooo thank you to @wintaerbaer for her help with the banner (it would have been a horrible mess without your guidance) and for encouraging me to write this!! love you Ari <3333

☆☆☆☆☆

You’re driving him insane.

You. Are. Driving. Him. Insane.

Insane.

Every time Jungkook sees you at the gym, he goes insane. Completely, utterly, insane. He thinks there has to be a better word in the dictionary to describe what you do to him but, alas, he can’t find it.

So insane it is, and he tries to live up to the name.

He’s been home for five minutes, and he’s already in his bed, dick so hard he thinks it’ll explode. Because of course you had to be doing squats today, in those way too tight biker shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Your thick ass, stretching the fabric so much he thinks he spied a thong underneath…

Jungkook grunts, hiding his eyes behind his arm, trying to erase the picture from his mind. But he can’t. You’re everywhere – behind his closed eyelids, or a ghost in his room when he opens his eyes again.

It’s been that way since the very first day he saw you at the gym. Jungkook caught sight of you and immediately had a boner, which hadn’t happened to him since he was a teenager. He’s a grown man, for fuck’s sake, yet the sight of you turns him on far more than anything ever has.

You’re just… perfect. Too hot, your body perfectly sculpted by the hours you spend at the gym every week. Jungkook dreams of dragging his hands, his tongue, on every inch of your body. Of caressing your hard-earned muscles, of gripping the meat of your ass…

Of grinding into you and hearing the little breathy moans he’s sure that you make in the thralls of passion.

Fuck.

If he’s honest, he would have fucked you that first time. Would have approached you and charmed you, seduced you until he’d have you writhing under his body. But one look – one damn look – at your keychain, and he knew you were off limits.

The bright pink Kooky plushie hanging from the keychain was a firm reminder that he cannot approach you, ever. Indeed, he doesn’t mix pleasure with work, which is starting to prove increasingly hard as he gets more famous, and as his fans grow way too numerous.

As his fans, as you pretend that you don’t recognize him when you go to the gym, even though he catches you looking at him all the time. Yet he can’t approach you, won’t approach you, ever. But nothing stops him from exploring his dirty little fantasies, whenever he wraps his hand around his cock…

Jungkook grunts, and he decides to take manners into his own hands, literally. He wishes it’d be your hand, gripping his cock once he’s pushed his shorts and underwear down. Wishes you’d hold him tight as you’d jerk him off slowly, eyes never leaving his.

He imagines you taking him in your mouth. Your plump lips, wrapping around the tip of his cock, sucking once as he’d fist your hair, restraining himself from thrusting in your mouth. Or maybe you’d give him the go to fuck your mouth, to unleash himself on you…

Jungkook moans, and he jerks himself off, slowly. Eyes closed as he imagines everything he wants you to do to him, everything he wants to do to you. His hand is not nearly enough to pleasure him, not when he���s been craving you the way that he has…

But it’ll make do.

Spitting in his other hand, Jungkook holds his dick up to rub the natural lube on the head of his cock. He winces – he’s already so damn sensitive… Probably because he’s sported a semi since he saw you at the gym.

Who gave you the right to go to the gym in those shorts, with only a sports bra to pair with them? You looked devilish, downright sinful, and you’ve dragged him to hell.

Once his dick is lubed up, glistening in the dim light from the hallway because he sure as hell didn’t have time to turn the lights on in his room, Jungkook strokes himself, slowly. Tattooed fingers firmly wrapped around his cock, just the way he likes it – right under the tip, hard enough to hurt just a little bit.

Hard enough to make him wish he was fucking your tight pussy instead. He imagines the drag of your walls on his dick, on his veins and on the ridge of his tip. He imagines your breasts bouncing up and down as you’d ride him, and then your face, contorted in pleasure, as he’d jackhammer into you.

He’s had noise complaints from his neighbours once, because of the loud singing he does once in a while, when he goes live for his fans. Right now, he wishes he’d get a noise complaint because they’d hear him fucking you good, fucking you until you’d crumble into ecstasy.

He picks up the pace on his dick, free hand grabbing at the white sheet of his bed. Would you be the type to moan unabashedly loud? To say his name when you come, when your walls flutter on his dick?

The thought makes his dick twitch in his hand, and Jungkook grunts again, curses underneath his breath. He doesn’t even know your name, but he sure as hell knows he’d come with your name a litany on his lips, a sinful melody he’d sing just for you to hear.

Would you drag your nails on his back, marking him so that the world knows you’re his? Would you suck on his neck, leave hickeys behind that he’d have to hide under foundation? Would you beg for him, or would you be a brat?

He wants you to be a brat. He wants to have to put you back into your place, to spank your ass and choke you until all you know is his name. He’d be feral with you – he’s feral just thinking about you. And maybe one day he’ll betray his number one rule, maybe one day he’ll fuck you into the night, hear you cry with pleasure as he’d pump his load inside of you…

His imagination is running wild, and his pace on his dick is relentless, unforgiving. His bicep burns already, even though he’s barely started. Or maybe he’s just too lost in his fantasies, losing track of time. But he doesn’t care – he’d lose track of time fucking you, too.

“Fuck,” he moans, eyes closed tightly, eyebrows bunched together as if in pain. But he’s not hurting – he feels way too good, the pleasure running through his blood a symphony every cell inside of him is addicted to.

You’re just too beautiful to him. He’d fucking crawl on his knees for you, or maybe he’d make you crawl. He’d force you to crawl, to beg for him, to…

Jungkook grunts loudly, his orgasm hitting so hard it feels like a trainwreck. He doesn’t slow down his pace on his dick right away, letting his cum spurt out and drip on his fingers, on the back of his hand. He doesn’t even care if he makes a mess – he’s lost to his pleasure, and he doesn’t want to come back to sanity. He wants to stay insane, and so he drags his orgasm out, milks it out of himself.

And he comes a lot, painting his whole fucking hand white. He’d think it to be disgusting, but when he looks down at his hand, fuzzy from his blissed-out pupils, he sees that he’s covered his tattoos with cum. His army tattoo – the closest he’ll get to come on you. He curses at the sight, hates that it’s turning him on again and that his dick twitches, begging for more. But all he does is watch the cum – it covers the three first letters, but it’s slowly dripping towards the y, and soon the whole tattoo will be covered, like he fucking wishes your pussy would be covered with his cum, dripping with it. He’d finger you with it.

Fucking hell.

Jungkook gives in to the unrelenting desire once he’s in the shower, trying to clean himself. A single thought of your thick ass and the stretched fabric of your biker shorts sends him back to square one, and he jerks himself off again, fast and hard, his free hand leaning on the wall. He’s quick to shift and put his forearm against the wall instead, hiding his face in his arm. And then he imagines fucking you in this shower, taking you from behind as your ass cheeks shake from his ministrations. He imagines you trying to find purchase on the wall, your hands slipping until he pulls you back into his chest. He’d hold you tight, wrap a hand around your neck, and he’d find your clit with his other hand.

He’d make you come so fucking hard. All night long. He doesn’t think he’d let you even fucking walk out of his apartment. He’d fuck you seven days a week, wouldn’t even leave his bed.

This time, his release hits differently, not as strong. It still fills his blood with ecstasy, and his head swims as he watches his cum go down the drain. His hand, his tattoos, are mostly clean this time around, and he imagines them covered in your cum instead. In your sleek juices as he’d finger you, making you squirt everywhere…

He curses loudly, turning the shower to cold, immediately wincing as the water hits his back. But it’s the only way he thinks he’ll manage to chase his arousal away. Hell, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his fucking evening masturbating. Though it’d be worth it, and he’s fully aware that he’d be able to. He’d just need to think of you, and he’d be ready to go again.

But when he steps out of the shower, he decides otherwise. He decides to go live – are you watching him, from wherever it is that you live in this city? Do you know that you make him insane, so, so insane that he just came twice to the thought of you?

He smirks, watching the comments coming in even though he hasn’t said anything yet. They fly too fast for him to be able to read anything, but he knows.

He knows that you’re there, on the other side of the screen, watching him as he watches you. Where else would you be?

And he knows damn well that next time he’ll see you, he’ll talk to you. Fuck the rules, fuck the fact that you’re his fan. He needs to fuck you, to know what your pussy taste like and how you sound when you come.

So next time he sees you, instead of jerking himself off alone, Jungkook knows he’ll ask you to give a helping hand.

Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Welcome to the land of sinning lmao hope you enjoyed this short ride! Let me know what you thought - it always motivates me to write more stuff like this ;)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[slaymybreathaway]

WASTELAND, BABY! [chapter one]

Chapter List Prologue Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: language, mentions of underage drinking and drug use

A/n: hopefully this isn't as shit as I think it is 😭

1st Sep 1994▪︎ King's Cross Station

___________________

Irish Slang Dictionary:

Eejit - idiot, fool

Nicked - stole, robbed

You 'right? - Are you alright?/ Are you ready to go?

To cop - to realise

-------------------

One of the best places in the world to people-watch is King's Cross Statiion on a weekday morning, because you're guaranteed to see something different each time.

For example, if someone were to take a look around the station at 10:45 this morning, they might see things like:

Two old men playing cards at one of the tables of Costa Coffee, a young busker performing a cover of Hotel California by The Eagles as people stop and throw their spare change into the empty guitar case infront of her, and two Irish teenagers, hurrying through the station, shouting at eachother.

"It's your bloody fault if train leaves without us!" Y/n accused, glaring over her shoulder at her brother.

"Eh, How is this my fault?!" Seamus asked. The boy was walking fast but struggling to keep up with his sister, as he had to push the luggage trolley that held both of their trunks.

This was the first year that the twins had to head off to school without their parents, since neither of them could get off work today and it seemed like everything that could've gone wrong, did.

"Seamus, you were the reason we had to go back to the house in the first place. What kind of eejit forgets their wand?" She rolls her eyes, quickening her pace even futher.

"An eejit who's sister nicked half his braincells in the womb," he replied under his breath as the pair finally arrived at the wall separating platform 9 and 10.

The twins stood infront of the wall and gave eachother a knowing look. They have gone forward and back through this passage nearly 20 times, but they still didn't trust that they wouldn't crash into hard bricks. "Rock, Paper, Scissors!" They both said in unison, turning towards eachother.

"Ugh fuck sake!" Seamus cried, after his rock lost to Y/n's paper. The boy took a deep breath, quickly blessed himself in the shape of the cross (a habit he had picked up from his muggle granny) and took a running start at the wall, pushing the luggage trolley infront of him.

Y/n watched as her brother disappeared just as he reached the brick wall and waited a few seconds. Then, she wiped her hands on the sides of her Levi's jeans and ran towards the wall, closing her eyes as she braced herself for the contact.

When she opened them again, she was met with the bustling crowd of platform 9¾. Some were parents, who stood waving to their kids as they boarded the Hogwarts Express. Others were students who ran straight to their friends that they haven't seen in three months, greeting them in a hug. She took in her surroundings for a moment before a voice brought her back to reality.

"You 'right?" Seamus asked, putting his hands on his hips impatiently. 'You were the one rushing, now you're not bloody moving at all' he thought.

"Yeah, let's go," y/n smiled, for the first time that day. As led the way to the train door, excitement took over her. She was finally going to see everyone she had been missing.

Y/n hopped in the train first, taking both of the trunks from her brother as he passed them up, along with the crate that held her cat, Lynott.

"See, I knew we wouldn't miss the train," Seamus smirked as he climbed into the train. He took great enjoyment in annoying his sister, it was what kept him from being bored all summer.

"Alright Zoltar, sure you did," Y/n rolled her eyes in response."You off to find Dean, then?"

"Yup, see you at dinner" Seamus bent down and picked up his trunk, before disappeared down the hallway of the train carriage.

Y/n stacked her cat crate on top of her trunk and carried them as she walked the opposite way down the train. After no sight of her friends what-so-ever for good ten minutes, her arms were starting to get numb. It felt like they were going to fall of if she didn't put her things down quickly.

The girl looked into the compartment on her left and saw a tall boy wearing a patterned sweater, putting his luggage onto the overhead shelves. He was listening to a walkman that was clipped into the waistband of his dark denim jeans. His dark, overgrowd hair covered the side of his face, so she couldn't tell who it was.

Y/n put down her trunk onto the seat opposite the boy. "Hey would you mind if I put left these here while I find my friends? They're way too heavy to carry," she admitted.

It was only when the boy turned around, did she realise who she was talking to.

"Neville!" The girl's eyes lit up at the sight of her friend and she jumped at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug.

As soon as Neville had heard the soft Irish accent of the girl he hadn't stopped thinking about, he turned around. What he wasn't expecting was for her to come flying towards him at top speeds.

"Woah," he stumbled backwards, he placed his hands on Y/n's waist to stabalise himself. His face burned red at the proximity and he akwardly wrapped his arms around her. The pair stood like that for a few seconds until Y/n pulled away.

"How was- you alright? You're a bit red," She asked, her hands still resting on his shoulders.

Neville nodded and cleared his throat before speaking. "Y-yeah, 'M fine,"

Y/n shrugged off his odd behaviour. She turned away to close the compartment door, trying to block out the sound of hundreds of conversations, before sitting down on the seat opposite Neville.

"To be honest, I didn't even cop that it was you for a minute," she admitted, opening Lynott's crate. "You look different... in a good way, like. You're taller than me now and your hair-"

"No, don't remind me about the hair," Neville interrupted, putting both hands ontop of his head to cover is hair. "I hate it,"

Y/n let out a laugh. "Well I don't. It makes you look like a rockstar,"

The boy smiled widely at the compliment, but y/n was too busy watching as her black-haired cat stretched on the chair beside her.

Her mother had bought the pet for her as a present at the start of first year (she didn't trust that Seamus would be able keep an animal alive so she bought him a new broomstick, instead). Y/n had named him Lynott after Phil Lynott, the front man of the Irish rock band 'Thin Lizzy'.

"Aw, I missed him," Neville admitted. He leaned forward in his chair to scratch behind the cat behind his ears. The feline closed his eyes and purred in comfort before hopping off the chair. The animal climbed onto Neville's lap and curled up into a ball. This was odd, seen as Lynott usually refused to leave Y/n's side.

"Looks like he missed you too," she smiled before admitting "We both did,"

Neville shyly smiled. His mind flooding with thoughts.

'She missed me.

She was thinking of me during the summer.

Obviously not as much as I thought of her, but still.

She missed me.'

○

A half an hour after the train departed, the door of Y/n and Neville's compartment was flung open by two tall, redheaded boys.

"Just the two people we were looking for!" Fred exclaimed walking in like the owned the place, before sitting down beside Y/n "Alright Finnegan," he asked, slinging an arm over the girl's shoulder.

The action wasn't unusual. Y/n spends a few weeks visiting Ginny at the Burrow every summer break, and during that time she had become very close friends with all of her brothers.

"Alright, Freddie. Heya Georgie," she greeted both of the boys.

"Alright Lucky," George responded with a cheeky smile. He had been calling her that nickname ever since they had met, in reference to 'the luck of the Irish'. He knew that it annoyed her too, which is why he says it all the time.

"I told you to stop calling me that," y/n rolled her eyes with a smile. "What're you guys doing here, causing trouble I assume?"

"Just sorting party stuff. Are you still good to DJ, y/n?" George asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Of course!" The girl replied, buzzzing with excitement.

The Hogwarts parties were a thing of legend. There were 2 big parties a year: Halloween night and the last night before everyone went home for summer. These parties were held in the Room of Requirement, and only 3rd years and above were invited.

Everyone that attended these parties, partied hard. Firewhiskey, sound system, strobe lights, the lot! Since most of the professors attended these parties when they were students, they turned a blind eye.

Smaller parties were thrown in the winning team's common room after a quiddich match. Students of all ages in that house could attend these parties because they were usually more tame.

For the bigger parties, the resident DJ was Dodgy Dan. Dan was a muggleborn Hufflepuff from Belfast who always worked at a record shop during his summer break, so he was always the first one to get his hands on the new muggle dance lps. The guy was a brilliant DJ, he always seemed to know exactly which tracks to fade into eachother, the problem was that he had a habit of not turning up (pronably due to the fact that he was always stoned). This is where he got the his nickname.

Last June, Dodgy Dan passed his N.E.W.T.S, after his second attempt, so the Weasley twins took it upon theirselves to find a suitable replacement for him over the summer. When they went to the Quiddich World Cup final a few weeks ago and heard the tunes blaring out of the Finnegan family's tent, they knew they had hit the jackpot.

"I have big shoes to fill," y/n let out a nervous chuckle. She had only been attending the parties since last year, so she still wasn't exactly sure how they worked.

Almost as if he sensed her worry, Fred pulled her in close to him. "Listen y/n/n, you're gonna be fine. As long as you turn up, you'll already be doing loads better than Dan,"

George glanced over at Neville, as he hadn't heard him speak the whole time that they were there, and saw him staring at Fred's hand placement around y/n's shoulders. 'Didn't know Longbottom liked Irish girls' he chuckled at the thought and made a mental note to tell Fred later.

"Speaking of Dan," Fred's head perked up, with a smile. "Since he's gone, we need to find a new way to access plants,"

"Which brings us to you," George crossed his arms with a smile. Both of the twins turned their attention towards Neville.

"M-me?" His gaze flitting between Fred and George, nervously. "What do you need me for?"

"Well, you're one of the only students that has a copy of the key to the greenhouses," George pointed out.

It was then that y/n realised what they meant by plants. "Lads, I really don't think that he's the right person to-"

"Well, the only plants I can get for you are the left over mandrakes from when that baskilisk was petrifiying people. Anything else and Professor Sprout will notice that it's missing," Neville explained, confused in their sudden interest in Herbology.

The twins looked at eachother in disappointment and were about to politely decline until he added. "Oh but make sure not to eat the root. It's a hallucinogenic,"

Y/n watched as Fred and George's faces lit up. "Yeah, of course not," Fred started, a grin etching itself onto his face.

"Wouldn't want any hallucinations now, would we?" George continued, patting Neville's shoulder with his hand.

A voice came from the outside of the compartment. "I wait in hope for the day that you two get your own friends and stop stealing mine," Ginny spoke, crossing her arms. "What are you doing here?"

"We, my dear sister, were just leaving," Fred responded, jumping up from where he was sitting and stuck his tongue out at Ginny, before exiting the compartment.

"See ya later," George smirked before following down the hallway.

Y/n hopped up and gave Ginny a hug, despite only seeing her a few weeks ago.

"We were wondering when you'd come to find us," she joked.

"Well, we were looking everywhere for you two," Ginny replied, pointing between herself and Luna, who seemed to have just materialised beside her.

"Heya Lu," y/n smiled, giving the blonde girl a hug.

"Hello y/n/n. Hello Neville," she said, looking over y/n's shoulder at the boy who was still sitting down, black cat still asleep on his lap. "Hello Lynott," Luna added, treating the animal as she would any human.

"I would hug you guys but I don't want to wake this guy up," Neville let out a light chuckle.

"It's alright, Nev. We still love ya," Ginny joked, ruffling the boy's hair before sitting down beside y/n, just as her brother had done a few minutes prior.

Neville, Luna and Ginny each talked about what they did over the summer break, but Y/n's mind was elsewhere.

She watched Neville, how his green eyes creased whenever his rosebud lips parted to reveal a cute, toothy smile. How his right hand carefully ran over the fur on Lynott's head, while the left one pushed stray hairs out of his eyes.

There was something different about him this year, and it wasn't just his height and his hair.

Next Chapter

Taglist [comment to be added]: @divinestarling @bookhoe33 @whotfskai @pursuedbyamemoryy @zippyskitty @gia999 @warrensluvr @h3ll0k1ttyl0v3r

[darklinaforever]

I like Daemyra, but how are they not toxic? He groomed her especially in the book, Ryan Sara is right. It's a relationship that have a predatory side, and happy where? The book says nothing about their marriage. It goes straight to the Dance and what happen later. I don't understand which book did you read...Tell me please cause Fire and Blood is not the kind of fan fiction you're saying, there's no romance at all between them.

"He groomed her, especially in the book, Ryan Sara is right"

"there's no romance at all between them"

All right. You're not a Daemyra fan. You are an anti, a hater, or a troll who comes to bother me on my tumblr.

I've already explained countless times that Daemyra is not grooming / a predatory relationship, both in the show and the book. Open history books and open dictionaries for god's sake (and if you want a character that looks like a groomer / predator for Rhaenyra in the book, look at Criston Cole) !

And if Daemyra is not a romance in Fire and Blood, or in season 1 of HOTD I don't know what kind of scenarios you need. Maybe reading comprehension and text analysis ?

Of and if Ryan and Sara are right in what there doing, I'm the Queen of England !

Especially when Ryan and Sara, and not just them in general, recognize that Daemyra is a romance and/or a powerful relationship, despite all the other bullshit they say on the side :

Is this the new method of the antis ? Pretending to be a fan of something and then spitting on it without discretion ? Buy yourself a fucking life.

@kittenfangirl20 @nrilliree @lizzie-queenofmeigas @lady-corrine @la-pheacienne

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Religion is a mental illness?! For fuck’s sake, let people believe whatever they want to. I believe in God. You don’t. That’s perfectly fine. Stop being so rude about it.

Schizophrenia is a mental illness?! For fuck's sake, let people with a distorted, delusional view of the world believe what they want to and influence society. I believe in a cabal of walruses who monitor me through my microwave. You don't. That's perfectly fine. Stop being so rude about it.

"Faith is a belief without evidence and reason; coincidentally that's also the definition of delusion." -- Richard Dawkins

That's quite pithy, but it's also accurate. Here is the dictionary definition for "faith" in the religious sense:

faith | fāTH | noun strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof

Here is the definition for "delusion" in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders:

“delusion A false belief based on incorrect inference about external reality that is firmly held despite what almost everyone else believes and despite what constitutes incontrovertible and obvious proof or evidence to the contrary.”

Among the subtypes is:

“grandiose A delusion of inflated worth, power, knowledge, identity, or special relationship to a deity or famous person.”

Such as a "personal relationship with god/Jesus." Now, they cowardly go on to couch that in an unjustified exception:

“The belief is not ordinarily accepted by other members of the person’s culture or subculture (i.e., it is not an article of religious faith).”

Except, whether a belief is generally accepted or popular doesn't actually make a false belief true. This is a fallacy called Special Pleading.

You're allowed to believe in your god. People are allowed to be wrong, mistaken or simply not care what's true.

But I don't have to facilitate or enable that delusion, mistake or disregard, or play along with it. We don't live in the Dark Ages anymore when people like you called the authorities to have people like me arrested, tortured and put to death. I don't have to shut up to protect you or others like you from figuring out it's all nonsense.

Because I'm allowed to notice and point out that your beliefs are ridiculous, and are a delusion based on many things including ignorance, superstition, fear, childhood indoctrination, social pressure, primitive magical thinking and emotional reasoning, and that believing there's a magical space wizard monitoring whether you're naughty or nice, for which there is literally no verifiable evidence, is exactly the same as believing in a cabal of eavesdropping walruses, for which there is exactly as much verifiable evidence. You might not like that, but it doesn't mean it isn't true. (If you had evidence, you wouldn't need faith, would you?)

Don't like it? Keep scrolling or block me. You've had the power to resolve your discomfort all by yourself this whole time, without involving me at all, instead of making your emotional wellbeing my responsibility.

"You've always had the power to go back to Kansas." -- Glinda, the Witch of the North

My blog is for my thoughts, not yours. I don't demand you reconfigure your blog to suit me, yet you demand I comply with your sensibilities. You demand I allow your freedom of belief, which I do, but doesn't mean your beliefs aren't open to scrutiny and criticism, while you overtly deny mine.

That's like going into a town square, seeing a big noticeboard, and there's a notice, 'Guitar Lessons,' and you go... "BUT I DON'T FUCKING WANT GUITAR LESSONS!!" -- Ricky Gervais

You're arrogant and out of your lane. Get yourself back in order. You think my blog is "rude"? You ain't seen nothing yet. Next time I won't be this pleasant.

[shotmrmiller]

Hellooo again! I come once more with more Gaz thoughts. Seriously, bro, I am DROWNING in Gaz everything right now. Like.. I need to breathe him, need to intermingle our souls.. And intermingle from behind, from the front, from between- AHEM. Anywho~~

Kyle is a nerd, a geek, a total goof. I cannot for the life of me get that out of my head that he would take every opportunity he could to bring up stuff like Dungeons and Dragons. "You, uh.. You mentioned that a new movie came out? You wouldn't happen to be talkin' about the D&D movie, would you? You are! So I've heard-" And then he'd spill facts and lore and stories and "Oh! I have the newest edition manuals. I've read them and memorized the rules. Would you like to learn? I can be Dundeon Master!" Of course, it's the literal written law to say yes to him no matter what, so you obviously agree.

Well, as it turns out, the geeky little one-on-one that he would have thoroughly enjoyed with you during a solo campaign would be completely ruined by a boisterous Scotsman and a grumpy skull-face. Price would have joined, but he was busy(he really just wanted to take a nap like an over-exhausted single Mother running after said boisterous Scot and too-serious, overly-sarcastic skull-face)

With Kyle's plans utterly foiled,(he had PLANS, damnit!) he went on to begrudgingly teach Johnny and Simon what each die did, what each roll meant, how to write up a character and all the rest of that.(seriously, he really had plans for a solo sesh..)

"No.. Ghost, you cannot roll insight on a newborn Elf just because they might be the next bad guy.. This is the third time you've asked that, man, just leave it!" It was literally only the third session within the campaign, and Ghost was already on the highway to becoming a murder-hobo. It didn't help that Ghost had made a complete edgelord rouge with the backstory conforming to the stereotype. Opening the dictionary of stereotypes, Ghost's character was the single definition of it.

"Soap! Fucks sake, bruv, stop messing with me! Just because you want to hit on the made-up barmaid doesn't mean you physically have to act it out on me.. Soap!" Soap was also the definition of horny bard. Actually, Soap tried taking it up to an entirely higher extreme and physically attempted time and time again to act it all out. "Bu' think o' it, Gaz! It's all made up, why no' act it ou' as well?? It's fookin' genius!" "For the hundredth time, Soap, that's LARPING! Get your bloody hands off me, you git!"

And then there was you. Sweet, innocent little you. You were fairly normal, had done fairly normal actions that were consistent. Just a simple, happy, normal half-Elven fighter with a simple, happy, normal half-Elven fighter backstory. However.. His mistake was gifting you your first set of dice. He had bought the set specifically for you, bought it the moment he saw them, and immediately thought of you, that you would love to have them. He didn't know that that action, that simple little gift, would turn you into a dice Dragon.

"Bloody hell, what 'ave you done???" Session seven came around, and he was standing in your barracks dorm after getting a few complaints about your.. problem. There, spilling over your bunk and onto the floor, over the small little stand beside the bed, was several upon several sets of dice. "Beautiful, isn't it? Behold my treasure, for I am a Dragon! I have ascended to the heavens and have become my ultimate self!" "Bleedin'... Bleedin' hells, love.." He'd created a monster, but he couldn't be bothered to really care when it seemed to make you happy. He never had to worry about misplacing his own set now that you had so much to spare.

(I may or may not be a dice Dragon... It's not a problem, it's HAPPINESS)

I'm gonna be honest.

I have never, in my entire 29 years of unwillingly existing, have I ever seen one game of DND. I have no idea what it's about. When I ask people, they lose me in the details because they get too excited (i just get a wide look in my eye and nod every once in a while, because they're speaking with so much passion i'd never ruin that for them) or they give the sorriest explanations known to man because they don't have the patience to teach.

it doesn't help that i don't know anyone that plays it either.

now. I'd be doing exactly that as Kyle went on an explanation turned soliloquy, because it feels like he's now in a play, and i'm the audience with the way his hands gesture his words.

His eyes are bright, his face is lit up with joy and i have no idea what he's saying but he looks so good in his element.

And then he hands me a die.

It's one of the best things I've ever seen.

I'd look at him and ask him if he'd be willing to buy me more. The way he smiles at me has my cheeks burning.

Now I'm collecting all kinds of dice and hoarding it like Smaug.

He'll step on it, and yelps because it feels like a lego under his foot, but once he realizes it's something he's bought for me, he'll carefully place it back on the little bookshelf.

In anticipation of any more scattered treasure, he now drags his feet on the floor.

"Come along! Help yourself; There's plenty, and to spare!"

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 8

Cw:mentions of sex, voyeurism,murder, slutshaming, past harassment, etc

Gif by @gameofthronesdaily

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondx

They become bolder as time passes.

Bold enough to fuck in her rooms even knowing Aegon can hear them.

They wanted to make a whore out of her, she will give them a whore.

It is an open secret in court that Aegon cannot have a child and that Aemma has his explicit consent to fuck whom she pleases.

She may have had a hand in spreading such rumor.

Mostly because Alicent has been hounding her about not being successful in the first three weeks.

Aemma is being forced to eat more meat, been given aphrodisiacs to get her in the mood ---as if she needed any help in that regard--- and been told which days she was most fertile.

Aemma nods and inwardly cackles like a witch because they have yet to discover her secret weapon.

“I never want this to end.” Aemond admits as they lay naked in her bed, drinking some light peach wine she is very fond of and pretending nothing exists beyond this bed.

“Neither do I.” She kissed the scar on his right arm. He hummed in pleasure and pulled her face back to his.

Being with him was addicting. Even before they became lovers, his company made silence bearable and her worst days slightly better by just being there with her.

She has feelings for him, knows that the feelings are mutual and yet to call them love feels too soon.

It’s the sex that has her confusing lust and friendship with it, she thinks.

Besides, he seduced her on her husband’s suggestion and was willing to never tell her that.

And then there was his hatred towards her family ---especially Luke--- and the whole him being very on board with usurping her mother to keep the status quo even if it means becoming a kinslayer.

It can’t be love.

It can never be love.

But it sure feels like it.

“I’d like to watch the two of you one of these days, I’ve never even new my pretty wife could make sounds like that.” Aegon walks in, barely wearing his trousers that show the effect said performance had on him.

“Go away.” Aemond gestures him to fuck off as Aemma fights the urge to fuck Aemond in front of her husband in revenge for the humiliations heaped upon her in the beginning of their marriage.

You know those months where she gave him a chance to show he could be a good husband and yet chose to seek the company of whores because monogamy is not in his dictionary nor is caring for anyone who isn’t himself.

“No, she is my wife, and these are my rooms too. Your job is to fuck a son into her, and even then, you’re failing at that.” Aegon said as he helped himself to Aemma’s peach wine. “Gods, Aemma don’t you have anything stronger.”

“Leave, Aegon.” Aemma has no time for this today. “Who knows perhaps your whoring about left me barren as well.”

“I was perfectly fine until Harrenhal, every whore I fucked got with child on the first try.” He threw back at her and later mutters, “Every whore except you.”

Aemma would gladly kill Aegon, and yet she is restraining Aemond who lunged at him not caring he is his brother.

“Get. Out. Now.” His brother snarls and Aemma holds him back because it isn’t worth it.

“He’s not worth it. Don’t let him get to you, Aemond.” she tries to calm him down, holding tight onto him so he cannot take the dagger on the side table and kill him.

Aemond always had been short of temper, time had only made him more dangerous.

“Please, Aemond. For my sake, don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“Oh, Gods.” Rhaenyra feels sick to her stomach when Lady Misery sends a full report on the goings-on in the Red Keep.

Alicent, who hated her and harassed them for her affair had turned around and forced her daughter into adultery with none other than her younger brother.

The boy who would have killed Lucerys had he not taken his eye in self-defense.

The boy Rhaenyra would have tortured to keep her children safe from harm.

The boy who seduced her daughter in revenge.

And what better revenge than making sure the crown passes to him?

To think all this could have been avoided if father had just wed Rhaenyra to Harwin from the beginning.

“I told you she was a snake.” Daemon says as he reads the letter. “Your poor daughter. If you would let me, I can have their heads on a silver platter for the two of you.”

The only way her husband can offer comfort is by hurting or killing someone.

When Qarl murdered Laenor, Rhaenyra did not even need to ask him to hunt him down and present him to her goodfamily, so they knew they were innocent.

Corlys and Rhaenys were family, and while they knew Rhaenyra had no hand in their son’s death, they suspected Daemon who has only been looking to marry her since Rhaenyra flowered.

Daemon had not ordered his death as some believe, Daemon had caught Qarl Correy informing Ser Otto’s men about the status of the fleet and gave Laenor the opportunity to kill him or make him leave forever.

As you can guess Laenor was clouded by love and the good moments with him to believe he would kill him.

Now Daemon offers to avenge Aemma’s honor and innocence by killing those responsible.

“No, not until we know the truth of it from Aemma’s own words.” The Princess of Dragonstone tossed the letter into the fire and thanked him for his suggestion anyways.

“Should I ring for your handmaiden, or do you wish to start the preparations for our return to court tomorrow?” her husband asks, no trace of his justified anger except in his bloody smile.

To no one’s surprise, Aegon seeks out Lady Wylde and tells her she’s been replaced.

“I do hope you put your education at my hands to good use, your highness.” Lady Jena Wylde whispered with a wink when they ran into each other at a salon where she joins him at a table while he plays cards by himself.

They had been lovers even before she became Jasper Wylde’s fourth wife and stepmother to his nine and twenty children.

When their affair began, she was Jena Mertyns, wife of the Lord of Mistwood. Lord Mertyns had gotten her with child and the miscarriage had left her barren and Mertyns falling off his horse a widow, and when both teenagers were left alone enough, nature took its course.

They had not been in love ---at least he hadn’t--- but there was some fondness especially when she came back to court as the Fourth Lady Wylde last year.

She was his real first, not the whore Aegon paid for on his three and tenth nameday.

“I do not know what you speak of, my lady.” He tensed but dared not to show it.

“Your affair with our darling Princess Aemma, my dear prince.” She said with a far too cheerful lilt in her voice. “Lucky, lucky man. Your brother said you are tasked with siring a bastard onto his whore of a wife ---his words not mine--- and that you should be getting Storm’s End’s heiress as a reward.”

“Lower your voice, no one is to know about this, Jena.” He warned knowing she was smarting from losing her coveted position even if only a handful of people knew she was his ---former--- mistress.

“My lips are sealed, pretty boy.” Lady Wylde said lying through her teeth.

[edalynn]

speaking of hl fankid names:

m0ringmark's hl kid's name is pandora (like the lady from greek mythology who fucked up big time by opening that box... totally no negative connotation there /sarc)

hunter calls her pancake as a nickname (basically indirectly nicknaming her after flapjack) which just. seems rly weird to me?? (and cringey for that matter)

her other nickname from one of her friends is panny (also cringe)... which has a lot of meanings according to urban dictionary, but the top definition is "a shorter word for pandemic" lol

tbh im willing to bet mark only named her pandora just for the sake of the stupid pancake nickname

Oh, 100% he named her that for the sake of the Pancake nickname (Which is in poor taste imo. I'd never name my kid after my dead cat or something). Also, I'm sorry, PANNY??? That sounds. So wrong. Somehow. Like, the name could've been unique if it weren't specifically to call her Pancake, but even then the name doesn't make sense lmao. Like if you're telling me that if Willow had a kid, she wouldn't name it after a flower or plant you'd be lying to me. But truly what could we ever expect from the King of Bad Tropes and Boring Designs.

[useless-bi-otch]

Cookies'n Cream - Chapter 13

Last chapter / MasterList / art by @aneenasevla

Chapter 13 - Camellias and Chocolate

"C'mon, Okubo, stop with that nonsense…," Himuro mutters, raising his voice to be heard from the living room, while Kaneda prepares the coffee table to receive the snacks and a bored Rihito looks for anything good in the Netflix catalog. "It's as if you're trying to ask our opinion on a dress for the prom..."

"Shut up, Himuro!," They hear Okubo scream, the sound coming out muffled through the locked door. "When I called you to spend the Saturday night at my apartment, it was to help me, not to annoy me!"

"I thought it was to make up for lost time and solidify our bonds of friendship through snacks, alcohol and a 'manly movie'," Kaneda underlines the last words by forming quotation marks with his fingers, placing the bowl full of salted peanuts on top of the coffe table. "At least that was what you said in the group chat..."

“It was all excuses, can't you see? We were deceived, misled, cheated, whatever you call it," Rihito grumbles in an eye roll. "Now we're all trapped in the rom-com limbo. Soon we'll be painting each other's nails, plucking out our eyebrows, making a list of the cutest boys in school and syncing our menstrual cycles."

"You shut up too, Rihito! Now give me your honest opinions...," They hear the bedroom door open, and soon Okubo appears, coming out of the corridor, carrying a bouquet of flowers in each hand. He shows them to his friends, anxious. "Which of these two is the best? Roses or camellias?"

Rihito, Himuro and Kaneda can only stare at him, exasperated. They knew how determined their friend was to regain Tomori's trust, after doing wrong by her. They knew and were willing to help him, their spirits being renewed after Okubo and Rihito had made up and the four of them were again hanging out together. But holy shit, how did he expect them to help him if he wasn't helping himself?

"... Aargh, don't look at me like that! You'll make me feel even more torn!," Okubo flinches before their unimpressed looks. "Just answer me, which one is the best?"

"The best would've been if you hadn't wasted your money. Flowers, Okubo? Are you serious?," Himuro snorts impatiently as he brings a tray with a bottle of sake and four glasses. "Don't you think it's still too soon to start bribering the girl?"

"It's not bribery, damn it! These are guarantees, my guy. Guarantees that I want to be better and that she is the one who motivated me to do so," He declares, raising the bouquet of camellias in the air. "What better way to symbolize this than a bouquet? You've never heard of the language of flowers, have you?"

"Sorry, but I only speak Japanese and a little English. ‘Fagish’ is not in my dictionary," Lihito snorts, dodging when Okubo tries to hit the back of his neck with his foot. Kaneda just shakes his head.

"I've heard about it, but in this case, there is no subtlety in the messages. Roses and camellias? And both red? You wouldn't be more obvious even if you wrote a haiku on a little note and put it inside one of the bouquets..."

"I thought about doing that, but I flunked in Literature during highschool. I'd only embarrass myself if I tried," He confesses nervously, and that brings out a chorus of frustrated groans from the others.

"You're already embarrassing yourself, damn it! Seriously, Okubo, flower bouquets are so fucking cliché," Rihito gestures with the remote control, and Himuro nods.

"Yep. If you are so keen on giving her a gift, you could at least try to be more original."

"More original, you say?," He puts a hand under his chin, bouquet and all, seeming to have grown a very flowery beard. "I already got something like that, but I don't know if it's good enough..."

"You do? What a prepared little boy you are," Rihito jokes. "Show us what you got then. And get a vase for those flowers, otherwise they'll wilt before Miss Uta even lays her eyes on them."

"Alright. Gimme one sec!," Okubo leaves the bouquets on the sofa and runs down the hall, returning to his bedroom. The three of them wait until they hear the door close before turning their attention to the bouquets, grimacing.

"Seriously, how much did he spend on these things?," Rihito wonders, and Himuro and Kaneda pick up a bouquet each, inspecting them.

“There must be a price tag somewhere… fucking hell!," Himuro hisses suddenly, dropping the bouquet as if it were covered in ants. "I found the tag, but I wish I hadn't…"

"Oh, for the love of...! Where did he buy these flowers?," Kaneda wonders, a bit astonished, when he also finds a price tag. "I've seen flower shops that make arrangements like this for a quarter of that price. Maybe not with that quality, but still..."

"Seriously, I know that money is not a problem for him, but this is getting ridiculous," Rihito makes a face at the flowers. "Miss Uta might think he's trying to buy her forgiveness or something. Then all his efforts will go down the drain..."

"Yeah, but try telling him that. If Mr. Big Mouth didn't turn this into a mega production, we could send him to the bughouse 'cause he'd be insane...," Himuro comments, to which Rihito laughs and Kaneda puts a finger on his lips, hissing.

"Shh! He will hear you! Is everything okay there, Okubo?," He looks over his shoulder, raising his voice a little. "Need help finding anything?"

"No, Kaneda, it's fine!," They hear him reply. "I already found what I was looking for. But..."

"But what?"

“I don't know… what I have here falls into the 'original' category, but maybe it's too original…,” He sounded indecisive, to which Rihito snorted.

"Anything's better than flowers, man. Just show us what you have there, c'mon!"

"Alright then...," They hear the bedroom door open again, and it doesn't take long before Okubo appears, coming from the hallway, carrying what looks like a pile of folded clothes. He places the pile on the marble kitchen counter, picking up the top shirt and unfolding it, showing it to his friends and asking, "Do you think this is good enough? Be real."

There's a silence of about five seconds before Rihito stammers, sounding a little horrified, “I take what I said back. Flowers are so much better than this."

"Oh, fuck you! It's not that bad!," Okubo exclaims indignantly, shaking the shirt a little, his own face in black and white scale printed on it, "It's from the exclusive Ultimate Fight fashion line, and they're hella pricey if you buy 'em at licensed stores! I'm giving it to her for free!"

“I don't even know if it would be worth getting something like this for free,” Kaneda moans while Himuro stares at him and Rihito, frowning.

"And you say I'm the narcissist..."

"You guys are such assholes!," Okubo grunts while folding the shirt carelessly, putting it back on top of the pile. "Anyone can give clothes as gifts, but who else besides me can give clothes from their own licensed line, huh? You want more originality than that? And I hand picked them, they're just the right size for her."

"Wait, how do you know her size?," Kaneda frowns, and Okubo looks to the side, looking suddenly conscious of himself.

"Uh… I don't know, I kinda deduced it from seeing the types of clothes she wears. She's small, has curves and a waist that I can hold in my hands, like this...," He illustrates the gesture by drawing curvilinear shapes in the air with his hands, very concentrated. "And she has nice-sized tits too, I've seen it by her cleavage, so I just looked for the sizes that matched my memories and... stop looking at me like that!," He shouts, blushing hard. "I'm a gentleman but I'm not blind!"

"Okay, whatever. It doesn't change the fact that this gift doesn't cut it," Himuro gestures to the pile of shirts. "First of all, it smells of self-centeredness."

"Oh, go take a look in the mirror, gigolo!"

"I look at myself in the mirror every day and I really like what I see. Guess you don't know the feeling."

"You're not going to like it after I bust that pretty face of yours all over, you man-whore!"

"Alright, alright, calm down, you two," Kaneda places himself between them, sighing as he raises his arms. "Don't take this the wrong way, Okubo, but Himuro is right."

"No, he fucking isn't! I like what I see in the mirror, even if it's a little fucked up-"

"I'm not talking about that! He's right that this gift seems self-centered!," He raises his voice. "If you want to give a gift, you should give her something she likes, not something that immediately refers to you."

"But…," That makes Okubo hesitate, his posture changing from angry to uncertain. "I mean, she- she's a fan of mine, so I thought this would be something she'd like…"

"After what happened that Saturday?," Lihito makes a face. "She might make a ball with those shirts and shove it down your throat, man."

Okubo swallows a little, his right hand automatically going to his neck.

“Do you… do you really think so?”

"I'm completely sure. I spent a few hours with her last Sunday, remember? I got out of there with a bump in my head and everything. Listen to the voice of experience," Rihito warns.

"And that's where my second point comes in," Himuro raises an index finger. "She gave you this second chance to prove that you really care about her and are willing to be better for her. If you give a gift that literally has your face on it, you would be implying that you are more concerned about how it affects you. With how you want her trust just because it benefits you in some way. You'd be pushing your luck, man."

Okubo looks at the pile of shirts on the counter. Then he look at friends. And then he groans loudly, grabbing his head in his hands and going to sink onto the smallest sofa in the living room.

"Damn… what do I do then? I don't know how to please her, I don't know what she likes besides martial arts and confectionery, I...," He raises his head a little, shrugging. "I know almost nothing about her. But I still want to do something, and it's not because I want to get on her good side again... okay, that's partly why, but that's not the only reason!," He assures quickly when he sees the expressions of disbelief from the other three. "I really want to get closer, to know more about her… I want to build something that goes beyond those idol-to-fan interactions, I don't know! I'm tired of playing the badass part whenever I'm around her, man! There's a limit on how many cool lines I can say in a single afternoon and I'm almost out of them!"

"Who knew that Okubo Naoya, Ultimate Fight's biggest chatterbox, has a limit for the dexterity of his tongue?," Himuro jokes, and Kaneda laughs softly.

"Yeah, live and learn, as they say… but seriously, if you really want to get closer with her and you think gifts will help with that, it's better to stick with the flowers. It's cliché, but if you don't know her tastes well, it's also the safest option."

"Yeah… and I still have the box of chocolates I bought for that first date," Okubo smiles, a little more hopeful. "They melted a bit, but they're still good to eat. It's real Swiss chocolate, it would be a waste to let it go bad..."

"Another classic cliché, but still safe," Himuro nods. "Just try to be discreet when giving all this to her, so as not to kill the girl with embarrassment…"

"Embarrassment? Flowers and chocolate are mid stuff next to these monstrosities here!," Lihito laughs as he goes to pick up the shirt at the top of the pile, stretching the fabric with a mocking smile. "What was your plan, man? You wanted to get your head between her tits, even if metaphorically? In that case I don't blame you, hahaha!"

"Fuck you, Rihito! And cut tha out, the store won't give refunds if the shirts got damaged! Seriously, bro, give it back!," Okubo jumps up from the sofa to take the shirt from the Rihito's hands, who runs behind the counter with an idiotic laugh.

Himuro and Kaneda just watch the chase while shacking their heads. As silly and childish as those antics were, it was good to have them being a part of their routines again. Okubo and Rihito were on good terms with each other again and their group was still going strong, as it should be.

* * *

On Monday, just before her lunch break, Tomori sees a small commotion through the kitchen pantry window. A few of the customers had huddled together facing one of the windows, whispering to each other, looking agitated. She even hears a woman giggle.

"Kanny?," She calls, without taking her eyes off the scene. "Take a look at that. What do you think is going on?"

Kanami, who had been showing Koga and Ryuki how to brush the crusts of the croissants with beaten eggs, lifts her head to look over the sous chef's shoulder. She frowns.

"I have no idea. Maybe it's one of those street artists who decided to take advantage of the traffic on our sidewalk," She snorts a little. "If he starts to disturb the customers' meals, I'll go there and fix it..."

"Doesn't seem to be a street artist," Koga also peeks, interested. "For these guys to get all excited like that… hey, maybe Seki and the SJPW crew decide to visit again! Surely they would at least recognize him."

"They'd be a lot more excited if that were the case, I think," Ryuki comments, not taking his eyes off his work with the culinary brush. "And sis, I've brushed twice as many croissants as Koga brushed. I think I won again..."

"Hell no! Gimme that roasting pan, you jerk!"

"Shh!," Kanami and Tomori hiss together, fingers in front of their lips, and Koga shuts up, but not before casting a death glare at Ryuki, who had cupped his hand over his mouth, making a low fart noise. The cooks look out the window again.

"Can you hear what they're whispering?," Tomori asks, to which Kanami shakes her head, giving her a reproachful look afterwards.

“No, and we shouldn't try to. You hang out with Hiro so much, you're picking up his bad habits. Get a grip..."

"You say that, but you're here, hanging from the pantry window with me, trying to listen too."

"Can you hear what they're whispering?," Tomori asks, to which Kanami shakes her head, giving her a reproachful look afterwards.

“No, and we shouldn't try to. You hang out with Hiro so much, you're picking up his bad habits. Get a grip..."

"You say that but you're here, hanging from the pantry window with me and perking your ears.”

"I'm the boss, perking my ears up is a must to ensure the bakery's smooth running!"

"Yeah, sure," Tomori nods sarcastically, leaning out of the window a little and hissing, as low as he can manage, "Hey Hiro! Can you see anything from there?"

"Ooh, does that mean I've become the official scout now?," Hiro arches an eyebrow from the cashier area. "You speak horrors about the gossiper, but when you want quality spy services, then you need him, right?"

"You're the one in the best angle to look out the window! Do us this little favor, in the name of the bakery's smooth running...," Tomori pouts a little.

"Alright, alright. What would be of these women without me...," The cashier rolls his eyes before getting up, stretching his neck while looking at the window where some of the customers were still huddled. "Okay, it's hard to see anything, there are too many big-heads for such a little space..."

"Keep it down, the customers will hear you!," Kanami hisses through her teeth while Tomori smothers a chuckle by putting a fist in front of her mouth. Hiro responds, though, by widening his eyes.

“Oh, Sugar Honey Iced Tea…”

"What? What is it?," Tomori and Kanami lean over the edge of the window, eagerly, and from inside Koga's voice can be heard, warning worriedly, "Careful, you two will end up falling from there..."

"Just when I thought things couldn't get any more ridiculous… okay, Tomori, don't freak out now," Hiro finally turns to them, still wide-eyed. "But you have an illustrious visitor, apparently."

"Visitor...? Wait, is it Mr. Okubo?!," Tomori's eyes widen as well when she realizes the implications in his voice. "But he didn't say he would come by, neither by call nor by text..."

"Are you still allowing him to contact you?," Kanami asks, a little disapproving, to which the sous chef pouts.

"I imposed rules and limited the number of messages and at what time they can be sent… but really, why would he cause all this commotion?," She asks herself in an attempt to disguise her reaction, "He's known in the country, but not as much as Seki..."

"It's not him they're interested in, necessarily," Hiro arches an eyebrow. "It's what he's brought. Get ready to be embarrassed, honey."

"Huh?," Tomori blinks, confused. They hear another chorus of giggles as customers turn their heads, following the trajectory of the person on the other side of the glass, who apparently wanted to have his view of the bakery interior unobstructed by onlookers. She finally sees Okubo, looking very embarrassed, trying to hide something from prying eyes... and Tomori feels her stomach do a somersault at the glimpse of a flower bouquet and what looked like a box of chocolates.

"Oh, my god...!" She claps a hand over her mouth, her face flushing and burning. Kanami's jaw drops.

"You gotta be kidding me... what is that idiot doing?!," She hisses, her voice rising a few octaves. "He doesn't think I'm going to let him into the bakery just for that, does he?"

"Who knows how the trains of thought work in that bald head of his...," Hiro blows a strand of his bangs away from his eyes. "I'd find that extremely cute if the situation were different. But since it's not, it smells of manipulation and blackmail..."

"Manipulation and blackmail by whom?," Koga approaches, placing himself between Tomori and Kanami, after hearing the conversation and not being able to resist his curiosity. He then widens his eyes. "Wait, isn’t that Okubo? And he's carrying flowers? He...," The boy blinks. And then he opens an insinuating smile, turning to Tomori while lowering and raising his eyebrows. "Wow, Miss Uta, look at you! You managed to wrap Ultimate Fight's heavyweight champion around your little finger, eh! This is going to fuckin' break the internet after it goes public-"

"No! I mean... uuugh...," Tomori groans, still very red. "I don't know what's worse, his attitude or the fact that I'm a little moved by the gesture..."

"Well, don't be! Resist, dammit!," Kanami commands imperiously, her green eyes sparking. "You let yourself be carried away by his bravado once and look where it got you!"

"I know, you're right… uugh, stop thinking he's cute, Tomori, stop right now! You idiot!," Tomori hits the sides of her face with her hands, moaning in frustration. Koga blinks again, dumbfounded.

“Uh…did I miss something? Weren't you fancying him too? Or did I get it all wrong?"

"No, honey, you just missed a few essential chapters of the soap opera," Hiro rolls his eyes. "To summarize it, baldy over there asked Tomori out, but he showed up at the date drunk and ruined everything."

"Say what?!," Koga's jaw drops a little. "Are you serious? That guy over there, who was almost as desperate as Rihito to get a girl's attention?"

"You should take that as an example of what not to do," Ryuki comments, still concentrating on brushing the croissants, but his tone had become slightly accusatory. "Anyway, what an idiot. To make Miss Uta sad like that..."

"Fuck off, Ryuki, I'm not that stupid! But damn, now I understand this manipulation and blackmail stuff," Koga peeks out the pantry window again, frowning. "But even though he's an idiot, he never gave me the impression that he was that type of guy. He's nice in general..."

"No! Stop right there, Koga! Don't try to defend him, not after what he did to Tomori!," Kanami points to the boy, who shakes his head quickly.

"I'm not, sis, I swear! He screwed up big time, I agree. But I really don't think he's trying to blackmail her to be forgiven. I've known him for about two years, you know," He scratches the back of his head. "Anyway, if he really wanted to manipulate Miss Uta, he wouldn't be trying to hide like he's doing right now, would he? Bro...," He lets out a mischievous laugh. "It's like I'm back to elementary school, seeing the teacher's favorite student hiding from the girl he has a crush on, hahaha..."

Kanami snorts, not quite convinced. Hiro nods, and Ryuki doesn't even feign interest in the conversation. But Tomori only had eyes for Okubo, who was grinding his teeth, irritated and embarrassed by all the eyes on him. It's then that their eyes meet through the glass, and Tomori feels her stomach do a little somersault again. He, on the other hand, turns even redder, grinning eagerly and waving... and seeming to have forgotten he's holding the bouquet of flowers, which practically flies out of his hand in the excitement of his wave. They hear him give a muffled scream through the glass, running to get the poor flowers, which the customers watching him burst out laughing as if they were watching a live rom-com.

Tomori had to fight back the urge to laugh too, but not for the same mocking reasons the customers did. Jeez… he really wasn't very good with things involving romance, was he? It was so different from the facade of the self-confident badass he'd tried to put on in her presence... and when he stood up with the bouquet in his arms, fussing as he made sure the flowers weren't dirty or squashed, she decided that, once again, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Well… as long as he isn't planning to make a public confession to pressure me or anything…," She sighs, and not resisting, returns Okubo's nod, albeit briefly. "He still doesn't have permission to come in, right, Kanny?"

"Yep. He'd need a lot more than romantic gestures and acting like a cute dork to soften me up," Kanami stares at the man on the other side of the glass, her gaze dangerous. Okubo, who had been delighted that Tomori had responded to his wave, flinches as he locks eyes with the baker. She crosses her arms, lifting her chin a little. "What would I give to be able to punch that stupid face again..."

"You punched him, sis?! Damn, I can't believe I missed that!," Koga laments. "Why do these things always happen when Ryuki and I aren't working? This really is like school, where you skip a day and end up missing lots of good shit! Gimme the details, c'mon!"

"We're in the middle of our shift, the most inappropriate time possible to gossip. I heard that giggle there, Hiro, that goes for you too!," Kanami growls over her shoulder. "And you, Mr. Narushima, please get back to work before Ryuki beats his record and consequently you for the third consecutive week," She commands, and Ryuki again makes that muffled fart sound, without turning around. Koga curses under his breath, rushing to grab another cooking brush. She then turns to Tomori, serious. "Anyway, he's still not welcome here. And you? Do you intend to waste another lunch break on him?"

"Well…," She looks out the window again, seeing a flustered Okubo make it all the way to the front door, the tips of his ears red as the customers continue to giggle, enjoying his misery. "I want to at least hear what his explanation will be this time. Call it morbid curiosity if you like..."

"Or maybe it's the hopeless romantic within you, who simply can't resist a sappy gesture," Hiro jokes again. "You haven't been given flowers since college, have you?"

"Me? I haven't been given 'em since highschool." Tomori pouted, blushing a little "Anyway, if this is blackmail or not, I want to find out for myself… and I gave him a chance to prove that he can be better, after all. So... Tomoyo?"

"Yeah?," Tomoyo, who was coming down the narrow corridor of the bakery, returning from her bathroom break, raises her head when she is called. "What is it? Did I take too long on my break? And... what' going on? What they're looking at?," She frowns when she sees the customers whispering to each other. Even though they had sat back down, they continued to lean over in an attempt to peer out the window. Tomori and Kanami sigh in unison.

"Guess what, honey," Hiro rests an elbow on the counter, and then rests his chin on one hand. "Tomori's baldy came back, and this time her brought gifts. Or 'colourful bribes,' if you will."

The waitress rolls her eyes at this, her expression darkening. She looked a lot like Kanami when she got mad like that, Tomori concludes in an internal rush of cuteness.

"Again? Can't this guy get a hint?," She puts a hand on her waist. "Or did you call him here again, Tomori?"

"Not this time," The sous-chef shakes her head. "It's a surprise visit for me too. Still, I want to hear explanations. Can you do me a little favor?"

"Will I get something for it?," She asks, half joking, half serious. Kanami lets out a low laugh.

"Don't look at me. I'm not responsible for transactions made without my imput," She jokes, arching an eyebrow at Tomori. "The cost is all yours.

"A complimentary box of cookies and donuts, how about that?," Tomori puts her hands together, smiling invitingly. And when Tomoyo shrugs, she continues, "Can you go tell him to wait for me near the back door area? He's getting the customers' attention and that affects the movement a little bit-"

"It already did. Everyone's going to be disappointed that there won't be a public love confession. We'll be branded as a cursed establishment, which prevents love stories from coming true."

"Bit your tongue, Hiro!"

"Anyway... can you do that, Tomoyo?," Tomori asks again, to which the waitress rolls her eyes again.

"I will. I just don't understand why you're asking me this. A guy like that doesn't deserve all that consideration from you..."

"Yeah, that's right! Those clueless idiots, screwing dates up left and right!," Koga leans out of the pantry window, smiling agitatedly, and Kanami, who hadn't heard him approaching, jumps. "But not all guys are like that, you know! I, for one, am not-"

"Didn't I just tell you to get back to work, you Goku wannabe? C'mon, don't make me repeat myself!," The baker gives a warning pat on the boy's neck, who lets out a yelp and runs back to Ryuki, a little red at Tomoyo's unimpressed expression. Kanami then huffs, turning to the waitress, "Do what Tomori asked, Tomoyo, please. That fool wouldn't know how to be discreet even if his life depended on it, apparently."

Tomoyo just nods, heading towards the bakery's front door and leaving through it, the bell ringing overhead. Tomori plays with a lock of her hair that has come loose from the net.

"I'm sorry about that, Kanny..."

"Don't be. It's not your fault," Kanami waves a hand, reassuring her. "Well, you already know the procedures. Call me if he starts to be too inconvenient. Or if you see yourself falling for those cheap tactics, because you and I know that these things are your weakness..."

"Don't say it like that. I have a lot more conviction than that, give me some credit," She puffs out her cheeks. "Let's get back to work, then I don't have to think about this until my lunch break."

Kanami nods; the need to concentrate on work so as not to let her mind wander was one she knew well. She returns to Koga and Ryuki, while Tomori goes to take care of the orders that were in the ovens. Hiro just goes back to his assigned spot by the cash register, bored once again.

"Baldy is an idiot, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not envying Tomoh a little..."

* * *

In the alley behind the bakery, while trying to hide from passers-by, Okubo cursed himself in his thoughts. Shit, he hadn't meant to draw attention like that, but it seemed he lived in a world full of gossipers who thought other people's lives were soap operas that existed to entertain them. He just hoped he hadn't given Tomori the wrong impression...or more wrong than the ones she'd been having from him.

He leaned back against the alley wall next to the back door, sighing heavily. His fingers loosely grip the bouquet, a couple of red petals having already floated to the ground. It would be so much easier if he had permission to enter the bakery... or if Rihito, Himuro and Kaneda had come with him, then he could have the flowers and chocolate delivered on his behalf...

“Hell fucking no, you idiot! You don't just send your pals to do your dirty work! You have to fix these mistakes by yourself, not by outsourcing the service! That way, you'll end up with a reputation for being a coward, in addition for being a jerk...”

Fuck, why did winning someone back have to be such a tiring and bureaucratic task?! And on top of that, there were no guarantees that he would get her forgiveness, as Rihito put it...

He lifts the bouquet a little, staring at the camellias with a frown. He remembers how Tomori, inside the bakery, returned his wave, a little flushed. He ends up smiling. Even with all those obstacles, he felt it was worth trying, for her...

"Oookay, that's the last garbage bag, now I'm free to take my afternoon nap and- who the hell said you could stay there, you hobo?!"

Okubo jumps when he hears the back door open, followed by the squeaky, indignant voice. And he has to put his arms in front of his face when he's viciously attacked by a garbage bag, which would have hit him square in the face, but didn't because it was cushioned... by the poor flowers in his hand. Holy crap!

"Shit!," He widens his eyes, red petals flying everywhere. "Calm the fuck down, gramps-"

"Get out of here, you troublemaker! The back of the bakery is no place to bum around! Buzz off before I call miss Oomori-"

"Wait, stop! Time out, time out!," Okubo needs to shout for the old man to cease fire and stop tearing the poor bouquet even more; he was desperate to save the few surviving flowers "I'm no hobo, gramps! Chill out, I- aargh, fuck, look what you did to them!," He laments, devastated, embracing the mortal remains of the bouquet as if it were the collapsed body of a maiden. "They were a gift for Miss Uta, damn it!"

"What...!," The old man, whom Okubo recognized as the bakery's janitor, blinks. And then his expression darkens, eyes full of contempt. "Oh. It's you. That good-for-nothing drunkard."

"Screw you! You really don't have to like me, but there's no need to commit a massacre like that!," He shows the destroyed bouquet, indignant and covered in red petals, one of them even balancing on the top of his head. "Flowers should never be hit, not even with a girl! ... No, wait, that came out wrong."

"Huh?," The janitor blinks again, stunned. "Are you drunk or what? Just get out of here before I call Miss Oomori so she can beat your ass again!"

"Hell no!," Okubo stomps one foot while growling, pointing to the old man with the splintered bouquet. "I got permission from the management to wait for Miss Uta at the back of the bakery, and I'm not moving a foot from here!"

"Yeah, like I'd believe that!" The  janitor snorts. "When are you going to see that nobody wants you here, huh? You're just making Tomori feel worse by showing up like that. Don't you think you've already made her suffer enough?"

That makes Okubo put the mangled bouquet down, the urge to keep arguing draining from him like water from a sieve. Paikon glares at him intently, his hostile expression turning suspicious as he watches the bigger man deflate little by little, and he slowly lowers the garbage bag as he sees that he wouldn't have to get into a physical altercation with an almost seven-foot tall gorilla.

"I…," Okubo's voice gets hoarse, and he has to clear his throat before continuing, speaking in a low, unhappy tone, "I'm aware of that. You have no idea how much. And it's precisely because I know this that I want to remedy it. I know I was a piece of shit, gramps," He touches his own chest with the destroyed bouquet, making more loose petals float away. "You'll never hear me deny that. But to fix a mistake, we always need to addmit to it first, right? This is what I'm doing now. And I'm only doing it because I received permission to do so," He holds the box of chocolates in the same hand that the bouquet was in, putting his now free hand in the back pocket of his pants. "I can prove it to you right now. I have messages from Miss Uta right here."

"What- I don't want to read private messages from a co-worker! Are you crazy?," The janitor takes a step away, making a face. "It's personal, dammit, you should've known that!"

"… So you believe me now?"

"What the... aargh, you tricked me!," He exclaims, between indignation and embarrassment. "And no sir, you can wipe that smile off your face right now! Even if that's all true, why should I let you stay here? I swear, these things only happen when I'm about to take my mid-shift nap..."

Okubo wanted to ask what kind of salaried worker took naps in the middle of the day, but then he remembered that he had arrived drunk on a date, so he'd be one to talk. He sighs again, scratching the back of his neck.

"If I leave, could you tell Miss Uta that I'll be waiting in the square nearby? I can just give her her gifts... or what's left of them...," He stares at the destroyed bouquet with a melancholy expression. "And then I'll be gone. I really don't want to impose myself or get in anyone's way."

"Hunf… don't you dare think you can fool me with this 'repentant good guy' persona," The janitor snorts, still suspicious, while looking him up and down. "You sub-celebrities are all the same. I tried to warn Tomori, but sometimes you'll only learn the hard way."

Okubo almost swears at the old man, his patience hanging by a thread, but he holds back as best he can. He didn't want to make a scene and make things even more difficult for Tomori. Not to mention that... he comes to a conclusion that makes him open an involuntary half smile.

“You… you really care about her, don't you? Miss Kanami, the girl who works as a waitress, the cashier, you... she must be the sun of this whole fucking bakery, to be protected like that. I shouldn't be surprised, she's really amazing."

The janitor's sour expression fades, surprise visible in his eyes, in the way the lines in his face had smoothed out. He opens his mouth, looking like he wants to say something, but is interrupted when the back door opens again.

"Eh, I wouldn't say that. Kanny is the one I'd call the sun, since she supports the planets that orbit her by signing paychecks."

Both turned around and saw Tomori, who was leaving through the door with her arms crossed, without her apron and with her hair free of that net. Okubo immediately straightens his back, widening his eyes and blushing hard, the petals that had landed on his shoulders falling to the ground.

"Miss Uta! Sorry about what happened earlier, I swear I didn't want to draw attention to myself, but with a guy my size it's kinda hard, hahaha..."

"Hunf… It's hard to believe that, with all this extravagance...," The janitor indicates the bouquet and the box of chocolates, to which Okubo hugs them as if wanting to protect them from him.

"An extravagance that your coworker deserved, but you blew it! You heartless monster! The poor flowers didn't deserve this...," He pouts, and Tomori turns her face to the side, clenching her mouth tightly to keep from laughing.

“Then the next time I want to hit you with a garbage bag, don't use them as a shield."

"It was a reflex, man! I wasn't expecting to be ambushed like that!"

“I didn't ambush anyone. I was just getting rid of the garbage, then I bumped into a freaking gorilla lying in wait at the door, so I also acted reflexively."

"Gorilla? Would a gorilla have brought this, by any chance?!," Okubo practically shoves the bouquet under his nose, and Tomori can't hold back her laughter when the old man sneezes hard.

"Don't shove that crap in my face, dang it! I'm already too old to have an allergic attack... yes, girl, have a good laugh at the misfortune of others, especially when one of 'em was trying to protect your honor," He mutters, also pouting, and Tomori shakes her head.

"Hahaha, sorry, Paikon! It's just that the exchange between you guys was too funny to interrupt," She puts a fist to her mouth, clearing her throat to control herself. "And thanks for trying to defend me, but there's no need. Tomoyo asked him to wait for me here at the back door."

"And you're just letting me know about this now?"

“You were too busy back in the pantry, napping between restocking."

"Hah! Told you so!," Okubo turns to the other man, smiling victoriously. Paikon blinks, unimpressed, to which Okubo flinches as he remembers that Tomori was still there. "I -I mean… I tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen to me! And the poor flowers had to pay the price..."

"Ooh…," Tomori looks at the destroyed bouquet, seeming to think a bit before turning to the janitor, saying, "Can you leave us alone? I want to talk to him privately."

"Hunf... if he tries anything funny-"

"He won't, Paikon," She assures, smiling a little, "I may not be sure of many things about him, but I'm one hundred percent sure of that."

Paikon didn't look too convinced, but Okubo couldn't care less. He even hugs the torn bouquet closer, staring at Tomori with an expression half fascinated, half hopeful. The old man takes a good look at his face and, with a shrug, seems to conclude that he didn't pose enough of an immediate danger.

"Okay. If you need any help, scream. I think there's still enough trash accumulated for one more bag like the first one," He grumbles as he opens the dumpster, throwing the bag inside, and then walking back in through the back door, ignoring the Okubo's sarcastic laugh.

"Haha, how funny! Don't worry, I'll make sure to get an even bigger bouquet to cushion the impact! Hunf...," He touches the petals of the remaining flowers. "Look, it's nice to see how they care about you and I don't blame any of them for not liking me, but these flowers were innocent. At least I managed to save some..."

"I told Rihito this and I'll tell you too: we're all like a stepfamily and we take care of each other," She says as she approaches, closing the door behind her, still with her arms crossed. "They're still not very… receptive, if you know what I mean. It's still very recent."

"I know. That's why I apologized for the scene I caused earlier. These people were so freakin' nosy, goddamn," He snorts. "The customers, not your coworkers. It's like they've never seen a guy trying to be a gentleman before..."

“Nope, they've already seen that. Valentine's Day is usually one of our busiest days," She comments, then blushes a little. "Full of chocolate, flowers… y'know, the whole package. They must have thought that... that there was going to be a love confession or something..."

Okubo feels heat rising up his neck, burning in his face and ears. He has a brief coughing fit, looking away. And the two of them just stand there next to each other, embarrassment clogging their throats. Hell, it was a good thing there weren't any paparazzi around...

"Uuh... sorry about that, I didn't mean to...," He murmurs, shily, and she nods, still not looking at him.

"Yeah, I guessed it. But you could've texted me that you'd show up anyway. It was kinda sudden."

"I know, but I wanted to surprise you and… oh, yeah! Here!," He immediately turns to her, holding out the bouquet, agitated, only to remember that the arrangement was destroyed. He grunts. "Dammit…," And puts his hand over his face. The hand that held the box of chocolates. The thud is accompanied by the sound of several small objects rattling around inside the box. And of course, his scream. "Ow! Holy shit...!"

Tomori can't help it, letting out a nasal laugh while averting her face so as not to be hit in the face by the flowers, offered with so much enthusiasm. "Ahahaha, damn... take it easy, I don't judge gifts like I judge amateur rice balls. You don't need to get nervous, Mr. Okubo... pffft," And she had to hold back her laughter again as she lifted her head and saw him rubbing the spot where the box had hit him. He looks at her with a half-amused pout.

"I-I know, it's just that the surprise was masterfully spoiled and that frustrated me a little," He tries to justify himself, shrugging. "But I think I kinda deserve it for having messed with that retired Yakuza, now janitor..."

Tomori laughs harder, and dammit, Okubo would never complain about seeing her have fun like that, even if it was at his expense. He preferred a Tomori laughing at his particular misfortune than a Tomori treating him with coldness or animosity, however much he deserved it.

"The- The funniest thing is that you're not the first one to think that Paikon used to be a yakuza, hahaha! But relax, you won't find any tattoos or phalanxes missing from him. Anyway...," She extends her arms, accepting the bouquet. "Thank you. They are beautiful... or they were. Poor things..."

"Did you like 'em? I thought of roses at first, but decided it was too cliché. Although camellias look a little like roses, so I don't know if it makes any difference... well, I don't know anything about flowers, I just know that I remembered you as soon as I saw them," He smiles a lot, proud of that line ... until he looked at the flowers again and gulped at the memory of how they'd been destroyed. "I mean, when they weren't wrecked! When they were still pretty, like you... but you're still pretty! They're aren't anymore, but you still are and... damn it, just kill me already, please...," He moans in a defeated tone, hiding his red face with one hand. Tomori bites her bottom lip, looking like she's trying really hard not to smile.

"Haha, relax, I got it. It was a tragedy, but at least some were saved," She points to three of the flowers, which miraculously remained intact. "So it was worth the effort. And that other box...?"

"Uh- Oh yes!," He straightens up, holding the box of chocolates with both hands and offering it to her too. "You said once that you got sick of eating sugary stuff because of your work, so I brought dark chocolate! It’s pure cocoa..."

"Oh, you remembered? That's very thoughtful and...," She goes on to say, picking up the box and inspecting the gifts with a half smile, but her next words die in her mouth when she sees the logo emblazoned on the box. My God, wasn't that... wasn't that a famous and very expensive Swiss brand? She and Kanami used to buy quality chocolate for the bakery's recipes, but nothing on that level. And with the flowers now crumpled and torn apart, she could see better inside the cellophane. Was that a price tag? Holy shit, all those zeros...! "Uh... yes, it's- it's very thoughtful... my god, Mr. Okubo..."

"What? You- You don't like dark chocolate?," he asks, leaning toward her nervously, to which she shakes her head.

"No, I like it! It's just that..."

"Is it the flowers then? You don't like camellias? Goddanmit, I knew I should've chosen the roses, they're a classic, you can't go wrong with roses...!," He laments, putting a hand on his forehead. "Or is it because they’re all mangled? It was an accident, I didn't intend to use the bouquet as a shield, the fighter reflexes just kicked in-"

"No, it's not that!," She needs to raise her voice to make herself heard above his babbling. "I have no problem with camellias, and I know you didn't ruin the bouquet on purpose. It's just… this is all…," She looks from one gift to the other, embarrassed. "Mr. Okubo, how much… how much did you spend on these things, in total?"

"Uuh… hey, come on, you don't just ask the price of a heartfelt gift," He tries to dismiss the conversation, gesturing vaguely. "What matters is the intention behind it. Isn't that what they say?"

"Yes, but it's hard not to ask when you see the price tag firsthand." Okubo widens his eyes.

"Oh… holy shit, I… I swear I didn't see that tag there," He shrugs his shoulders a little. "But the price doesn't change the fact that it was bought with consideration-"

"And isn't this chocolate brand not imported?," She asks, not giving him time to keep talk. "The kind that we could never use in the bakery except for private orders, it's so expensive..."

“Well… yeah, but that just shows even more consideration, don't you think?," He tries to smile, hands on his hips. "It's some fancy stuff, so it must be really good, right? I'll have to rely on your feedback because I haven't tasted any of ‘em, they're all yours!"

Tomori doesn't respond. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, looking to the side, the smile on her face looking much more like a grimace.

"Heh... th-thanks, that was... very kind of you..."

Okubo stares at her, his stomach dropping a little at her expression. He might be a total zero when it came to interpreting expressions and body language outside the fight rings, but he'd have to be blind not to notice her obvious discomfort.

"... You didn't like it, did you?," He asks, but it came out more like a statement. He felt himself deflate like a balloon, his excitement replaced by sadness and anger at himself. Damn it, why did he always have to screw up the simplest things when it came to her?! He stares at the floor, not seeing when she shakes her head.

"No, it's not that I didn't like it. I mean, who doesn't like to receive gifts like these?," She hurries to say, bringing the box close to her chest. "It’s just that… look, I’ll be real," She sighs heavily. "I know I gave you carte blanche to try to prove to me that you can and want to be better, but... but to start like this, with such expensive gifts... oh, damn, now I sound like an ungrateful bitch," She groans, throwing her head back a little. "But well, you can't blame me for thinking this smacks of bribery. You, trying to buy me, I mean."

He jerks his head up, blinking in astonishment, his jaw dropping a little.

"Buy you…? Just because of some gifts?"

"They are not simple gifts! One is a box of fine Swiss chocolates and the other is a bouquet that costs... jeez, I don't even have the brains to count all those zeros right now!," She gestures with some frustration. "They are expensive and a bit extravagant, you know?"

"Uh… no," He shakes his head, perplexed. "It wasn't expensive for me. I didn't even look at the prices, to be honest. I just... I just thought you'd like ‘em so I decided to buy ‘em. It's that simple."

Tomori stares at him intently, seriously, and it was Okubo's turn to shift with some discomfort. The silence stretches out for a few more awkward seconds before she relaxes her posture a little, her expression contemplative.

"So… you didn't buy all this focusing only on the fact that they are expensive things?"

"Well… I kinda went to more fancy establishments, so to speak, but I focused more on the things that reminded me of you. Y'know...? Pastry chef who definitely works with chocolate, flowers for a flower, you know what I mean, haha...," He blushes some more. She stares at the gifts again.

"And you didn't conclude, not for a second, that I would be more inclined to forgive you if I got a pricey treat? Really?"

He turns back to her, blinking… and yeah, now he was starting to take offense.

"Of course not! Damn, I know I screwed up badly, but seriously, does that have to mean that every action I take from now on is going to be a bribe?," He gestures in frustration. "Can't this just be a nice gesture from a guy who is sorry and wants to fix his mistakes?"

"Yeah, it can, but it's hard not to doubt it, considering so many guys think they can buy women if they're open-handed enough!," She raises her voice in the same tone. "I don't want you to think I'm that kind of person! I don't want you to think getting my forgiveness is that easy!"

“I don't! It's just- aargh!," He grabs his head with his hands while throwing it back dramatically. "This isn't working! We're not going anywhere if my every attempt to get closer is met with suspicion!"

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?," She points at him, snarling, and even though she had to stretch her neck to look him in the eyes, she didn't look fearful in the slightest. "You gave me reasons to be suspicious! I'm trying to be more open, but it's hard when you're showing off your bank account like that, Mr. ‘Heavyweight champion of the biggest fight promotion in the world’!”

"Wait, is that your problem then? The fact that I have money?," He snorts angrily. "Lady, don’t you think that, if I really wanted to buy you, I would've brought something much more elaborate than flowers and chocolate? Like a necklace made of real pearls..."

"Argh, no! I don't even want to think about it!" She shudders, horrified, but Okubo doesn't stop there.

"Even better! A pair of white gold earrings, eighteen carats!"

"No!"

“Twenty-four carats is better? Boy, you're a tough one, huh!"

"This is even worse!," She screeches, and all that desperation was, for Okubo, satisfying, hilarious and adorable.

"Ooh, not a jewelry connoisseur, I see. How about clothes then? An Undercover jacket or pants from Yohji Yamamoto's exclusive line..."

"My God, no!," She grabs his arm in reflex, which takes him by surprise but also makes him even more excited.

"Do you prefer overseas brands? Let's do overseas brands then! A Louis Vuitton bag, a Dolce & Gabbana dress..."

"Nooooooo...!”

"Coco Chanel shoes! A Jimmy Choo perfume! I can do this all day, lady, expensive stuff is plentiful!"

"Okay, okay, stop! I get it, it could've been much worse! Oh my gohohohod!," She doubles over herself a little, falling into a fit of hysterical laughter, and he can't help himself either, accompanying her, the two of them laughing like idiots in the middle of that alley, attracting the confused looks of those who passed by the sidewalk further on and heard them.

Damn... That way, it was very easy to forget that she still hadn't forgiven him for his attitude. He allows himself to fantasize for a few seconds that everything was fine between them again, until he is brought back to reality when her laughter fades, interrupted by coughing, until it stops altogether. She holds the bouquet and box in one hand and puts the other in front of her mouth, clearing her throat.

"Okay... Maybe- Maybe I exaggerated a bit," She admits after taking a deep breath. "Maybe that wasn't your intention, but there was no way for me to be sure. I...," She blushes a little, looking up at him. "I'm still in the middle of the healing process, Mr. Okubo. And for you to arrive like this, with gifts like these, it kinda overwhelmed me. I liked it, really, but at the same time...," She gestures uncertainly.

Okubo sighs, closing his eyes and scratching the back of his neck. He never imagined that a box of chocolates and a measly bouquet of flowers could cause all that confusion. Now he felt a little guilty. He just wanted to prove how serious he was when he said he wanted to regain her trust more than anything...

“Yeah…again, sorry about that. But I swear my intention was never to buy you or anything like that. I...," He leans his back against the alley wall, close to the dumpster, looking at the ground with embarrassment. "I just thought that this would be a good way to demonstrate that I want and that I can be better... that and the fact that I don't know how to show interest in any other way."

"... What do you mean?," Tomori asks after a few seconds of silence, approaching and leaning against the wall beside him, still hugging her gifts. He turns his eyes to her with a small pout.

“It's just… I told you that day, remember? I'm an idiot who can't have a normal conversation with a girl to save his life," He rubs his left arm with his right hand. "I've never had the slightest knack when it comes to dealing with women, when it comes to showing them when I'm interested. I always make a fool of myself or come on too strongly, and I end up scaring them away. It was kind of one of the reasons Rihito and I became friends, you know?," He smiles shyly. "He also doesn't know shit about wooing women, and misery sure loves company, haha."

Tomori ends up laughing, shoulders shaking a little. "Hahaha, damn… a few weeks ago I would've found it hard to believe. But you guys aren't that bad. Just..."

"Just inconvenient and desperate, I know," He nods, resigned. "That's exactly why I try to approach women in safer ways, you know? Everyone likes to get gifts, it's an easy way to show how you're feeling, how much you like the person you're giving them to... even more so for losers like me," He puts his hands in his pants pockets, looking upset. "That's the only way I know how to do it and the only way I've managed to not screw things up…until now."

Tomori tightens her mouth a little, now as embarrassed as he was. She looks back at the gifts in her hands, bringing them to her chest again as she shrugs.

"No… you didn't screw it up," She murmurs at last. "I said I liked them. Camellias aren't my favorite flower, but they're still beautiful. And a brand of quality chocolate like this is not something I could eat whenever I wanted. I appreciate the intention, Mr. Okubo, I swear. But..."

"But...?," He instigates her, a little recklessly, and she again makes that gesture of tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"But expensive gifts make me embarrassed. I'm left feeling like I'm in debt, and I couldn't buy you anything on that level without blowing some of my savings."

"But you don't have to! I'm not giving you these things expecting something of equal value in return," He assures, leaning down to bring his face closer to hers, his gray eyes intense. "I don't expect anything in return, really. I just..."

“I just want to see you smile at me like you used to. I want you to enjoy my company like you used to, before I let you down.”

He didn't voice that thought, but from the way Tomori was looking at him, he didn't have to. Her eyes, large, brown and expressive, hold his intently, her full lips opening as if she wanted to say something but doesn't know how. He wanted more than ever to reach down and touch that mouth with his, holy shit...!

"Well, if…," She licks her lips, bending her left leg and resting her foot on the wall behind her. "If this is just your way of showing how you feel, then… then you can give me gifts, if you like.

"Really?," He widened his eyes, which were shining brightly in his excitement, and she blushed again.

"Yeah, really. But don't go off the rails, okay?," She raises an index finger at him, her expression serious. "No expensive and extravagant things, please. If you really want to give me a gift, give me something that better demonstrates those feelings you talk about so much. Flowers and chocolate are always nice, but those aren't the only things a girl can like, you know?"

"Ooh…okay then," He nods in understanding. "Something more sentimental, then? Alright, I got it. The thing is, I don't know much about your tastes outside of confectionary and martial arts...," He gestures sheepishly, looking sideways at her. And then he smiles, turning around and leaning sideways against the wall, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow. "How about enlightening me a little, huh?"

She rolls her eyes, but her half-smile looks affectionate, "I haven't even given you carte blanche and you're already trying to cheat? It’d be too easy if I just told you."

"Oh, c'mon! At least give me some clues," He complains, but the smile hasn't disappeared from his face. "Camellias aren't your favorite flowers, right? What's your favorite then? What letter does it start with? It rhymes with what? What are the most common allergies associated with it? Help a poor bastard out, lady, please..."

She lets out a fart-like sound from her mouth, turning her face to the side in an attempt to hide her laughter.

"I- I haven't seen any reason to make your life that easy so far, so give it up! You'll have to find out on your own."

"You're a difficult woman…," He sighs theatrically, closing his eyes. "It's a good thing that Okubo Naoya never gave up on things just because they were difficult," And he smiled, opening his eyes again, which were soft and tender when focused on her . And he is elated when she blushes even more.

"C'mon, I'm not that difficult," She bats her eyelashes at him. "I'm letting you get closer to try to figure it out, aren't I? So... keep trying. Surprise me. I'll be here, waiting for more of your attempts."

For him, it was as if she had offered him the winning lottery ticket. More attempts... he was entitled to more attemps! And to think that she willingly wanted to give him those chances made him want to start dancing right there in the alley.

"O-Okay! So can I interpret this as an invitation to show up here more often?"

"With prior notice," She points at him. "That way I'm not caught off guard and Kanny and the others don't get too upset. They still haven't forgiven you either, you know."

"Jezz, does that mean I'm also going to have to win them back?," He snorts. "Can I know their favorite flowers, at least?"

She laughs out loud, putting a hand in front of her mouth. She didn't usually hide her laughter this much when she was still on good terms with him. But Okubo was determined to change that.

"My god, hahahaha...!," She wipes away a tear from the corner of her right eye. "If- If you tried to give Kanny flowers, she’d punch you again and there would be no bouquet able to cushion that impact. It’s better to not even try."

"I won't. There's only one person I want to bring flowers to, if she's nice enough to nudge me in the right directions..."

"Nah-ah. I'm not falling for that," She shakes a finger at him, smirking, but the flattered blush on her cheeks was unmistakable. "You said yourself that you never gave up on things just because they were difficult, didn't you? I want to see this with my own eyes."

"But you've seen it, if you've really been watching me since the times when I practiced wrestling."

"Fighting arenas and the real life are different places. People can be one way in one and another way in the other. And I said I want to get to know you better here," She points to the space between them. "I want this from you more than I want gifs."

He nods, embarrassed, but still happy. If that meant more opportunities to be with her like this, then dammit, he'd be happy to let her know every single thing of him.

"Ahaha… alright then. But you know what I want from you now?" He leans toward her again, smirking, and she looks at him suspiciously, a warning in her gaze.

"What?"

"You, trying the chocolates I brought you."

She clearly wasn't expecting this, considering how her expression went from wary to stunned.

"Uh… That's it?"

"Yeah! Having my amateur rice balls judged by a professional made me feel spoiled and I got used to it. Now I want it again," He turns his head to the side. "Only with dessert this time."

"Ahaha, but that wouldn't make sense. You didn't make these chocolates, so I can't judge your cooking based on them," She shakes the box a little, which makes that rattling sound. His smile widens.

"Judge my taste in them, then. I particularly think it's great, considering how much I like your cookies."

“Grunf… I already told you to keep that silver tongue of yours in check…” She snorts, making an absurd effort not to smile. He raises his hands in surrender, his smile becoming more pleading. And with a sigh, she concedes, tearing the seal that held the box closed and opening it. The chocolates had come out of their respective compartments, scattered around the box, and he remembered with embarrassment that they had melted a little before he put them in the fridge. The handmade truffles were now a little misshapen. But she didn't seem to mind, picking up one and biting it in half, slowly, savoring it. He watches her intently, waiting with some trepidation.

"So? Too bitter?"

She looks up at him, finishing chewing. And then she smiles; that lovely smile he had missed so much.

"Yes! Just the way I like it!"

And even if he wasn't the one to make those chocolates, the compliment made him as happy as if he was.

* * *

"So? How was it with your bald sucker?"

Tomori smiles awkwardly as she returns to the kitchens, having returned from her lunch break. She brought with her the box of chocolates and the three camellias, the only survivors of the accidental massacre that Paikon had committed. She shrugs, trying to look calm.

"Better than I expected. Can I put these flowers in the water, Kanny? I don't want them to dry out."

"Sure. You can grab any container we're not using," The baker nods, watching as she goes to look for that container. Tomori felt her eyes glued to her back, knowing full well that she couldn't escape her friend's questions, and wondering if she could hide enough the conflicting feelings that battled inside her. She fills a measuring cup with water and places the flowers inside, setting them in a corner and admiring them for a moment before going to retrieve her apron and hairnet. Kanami kept following her movements attentively.

"So... what happened to the rest of the bouquet?"

"Paikon destroyed in an attack worthy of a yakuza ambush."

"Uh... I was going to say it serves him right, but then I remembered that they were a gift for you, so...," She makes an uncertain gesture, to which Tomori shrugs.

"He managed to save three of them, so that's something," She puts the chocolates aside too, and when she sees her friend looking at her with a mixture of distrust and interest, she invites, "You can have one, Kanny. You recognize the brand, right?"

"Yeah. It's the kind of brand that we could never use on the bakery's cakes, otherwise no one would have the money to buy 'em," She comments while picking up a truffle. "Thanks, Tomoh… hnnn, wow…," She puts it in her mouth and sighs while chewing. "Pure, quality cocoa. It’s delicious!"

"I know, right! Damn, I had to hold back from having a culinary orgasm in front of him to keep some of my dignity," Tomori laughs, and Kanami joins in, despite still being wary.

"Haha, I can imagine. But speaking of dignity...," She frowns, trying to stay serious. "I know I have no right to demand anything, but I hope you didn't get carried away by some expensive gifts and the snap of a silver tongue. I worry about how this might affect you..."

"Don't worry, I stood my ground," She assures. And then she looks at the floor while putting on her apron. "But… I admit it was hard to resist. We had a very enlightening conversation, you know. And when I said that I won't accept any attempt to buy me, he understood and didn't try to argue. He even made it clear that this wasn't his intention."

"… And what was your verdict?," Kanami asks after two seconds of silence. Tomori bites her bottom lip.

“That he really wasn't who I thought he was. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing either," She concludes. "I really want to see how far he's willing to go, Kanny. How much he values ​​what we have, even if it's nothing serious. I want to test the waters more... and make him suffer a little while trying," She admits, smiling when Kanami laughs heartily.

"A she-wolf in sheep's clothing, as Akane always says. Go for it, that's what that stupid gorilla deserves."

"Hehe, leave it to me! And... uugh...," She groans suddenly, turning her attention back to the flowers. Kanami blinks.

"What is it?"

"He brought me red camellias. I wonder if he knows about the symbolism behind them...," She blushes a lot, pressing her hands to her chest. "You know? That they represent romantic love..."

The baker didn't know what she wanted to do more: to laugh in her friend's face or to grunt and roll her eyes at her obsessive romanticism. She opts for a middle ground.

"Girl, I doubt it. A man like that doesn't care about these things. A flower shop employee probably suggested camellias when he said he wanted to impress a girl, nothing more than that."

"Yeah, I guess you're right… let's just get back to work, thinking about it will only distract me," She sighs, and Kanami nods satisfied.

Tomori wanted more than anything to stand firm in her convictions and not give in to Okubo's wooing so easily. He really had to earn her forgiveness. But dammit, if he kept being cute like that, showing her a side of himself she hadn't even dreamed existed, forgiving him would be easier than she wanted it to be.

NEXT CHAPTER

[v-anrouge]

americans call everything a fucking death threat yall have absolutely 0 idea what words mean and just throw them around for FUCKS sake open up a dictionary

[kodicraft]

Keep the DPRK's name out of your fucking mouth if you aren't willing to unlearn your biases and stop being racist.

Also, with just a little more research, you would have learned that it's been proven that literally every single defector story has been fabricated to some degree, hence the stories are not reliable at all, but it's the only "evidence" that the UN bases their information and statistics on. You want to know why all those stories are fabricated? They have to survive in the capitalist world and make money, they have to *survive*.

In what fucking way is DPRK an imperialist dictatorship? Truly, what imperialistic power do they hold while the US quite literally enforces their sanctions (they same way they do Cuba).

Are you genuinely that dense, that ignorant, when faced with the facts given to you so kindly by a Korean person, you literally just tell them they are wrong about their own fucking history? The history that impacted their country and their people and their families for generations?

Literally everything you know about DPRK is wrong. Reevaluate yourself.

Let's deal with this one step at a time:

"Keep the DPRK's name out of your fucking mouth if you aren't willing to unlearn your biases and stop being racist."

Not knowing what racism is really makes your argument stronger. Open a history book. Also I technically never called it the "DRPK" so this sentence doesn't even make sense!!

"Also, with just a little more research, you would have learned that it's been proven that literally every single defector story has been fabricated to some degree,"

With just a little research you could've known what the word "racism" means, you could've known what the word "imperialist" means, you could've known what a dictatorship is.

Also, "proven" is a strong word considering there is no proof. Like genuinely even googling word for word "North Korea defectors stories fake proof" there was literally no proof. Just accusations by people who we fully know could have been assassinated if they dared talk against the country.

Because fun fact, that did happen. Journalists have been assassinated by the state of North Korea. That's a fact. Anybody who hasn't been thoroughly brainwashed by North Korea risks their life attempting to document the facts of what happens there. These deaths are real and have been reported.

"In what fucking way is DPRK an imperialist dictatorship?"

Since you clearly cannot be bothered to read what "imperialist" or "dictatorship" means, here is a quick and short history lesson for you.

"Imperialism", according to the Oxford Dictionary, means "a policy of extending a country's power and influence through colonization, use of military force, or other means.". North Korea does in fact invest a ridiculously superfluous quantity of their money into their military force, North Korea does in fact teach its people that they won the Korean war, that they are the only real Korea and that they do have power over what we all know is South Korea. They call themselves the "people's republic of Korea" for fuck's sake!!! You are using that very name!!!! This is literally them gaslighting their people into thinking they control more than they do. Please go ahead and tell me how that's not imperialistic.

"Dictatorship" in this context means "a form of government which is characterized by a leader or a group of leaders which holds governmental powers with few to no limitations". More specifically, characteristics of dictatorships include a military police (threatening to) kill(ing) people opposing the system, possession of a singular group with absolute control over the state, no constitutional or democratic rights, manipulation of media and propaganda, and presentation of the leader as benevolent, charismatic, etc.

I am genuinely in awe at how you can deny that North Korea is an imperialist dictatorship. What are you gonna deny? Facts brought back by people who risked their lives and pretended to be workers in North Korea in order to bring us back video and audio footage, pictures and testimonies? Literal publicly broadcast information by North Korea?

Or maybe you're not actually denying it and you have no idea what the words you use actually mean because you haven't even attempted to learn more about world history. You don't know what "racism", "imperialism" or "dictatorship" means and would much rather attempt to defend your blind support for an imperialistic dictator than actually learn about real information about the real world.

Oh by the way, "racism", once again according to the Oxford Dictionary, refers to a "prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism by an individual, community, or institution against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular racial or ethnic group, typically one that is a minority or marginalized.". Please go ahead and tell me how calling North Korea an imperialist dictatorship (which is a true fact) is somehow "based on a particular racial or ethnic group". Do you genuinely think I wouldn't call a European or American country an imperialist dictatorship if it was?

"what imperialistic power do they hold" you do not know what imperialism means

"while the US quite literally enforces their sanctions (they same way they do Cuba)." you are completely clueless about world politics

Just to cover all bases, yes, the United States has a bad tendency to be imperialistic. Yes, the United States does invest a ridiculous portion of their resources in their military power and then uses it to force their ideologies on a number of other nations. I never said that's not the case, and that is quite literally the same thing that one of the points I am criticizing North Korea for.

However if you're going to pretend that North Korea is less of a dictatorship than the US you are actually delusional. Compared to other countries the US does have a really poor implementation of their democratic ideals, but compared to North Korea it's genuinely light and day.

"when faced with the facts given to you so kindly by a Korean person" says the person who told me to kill myself and called me a "genocide apologist"

"you literally just tell them they are wrong about their own fucking history?" learn to read????

"The history that impacted their country and their people and their families for generations?" again, I was born in a communist dictatorship. If you actually knew about dictatorships, you would have a lot more to say there! The public infrastructure, the education, the religious culture, the civil culture, the economy! These still very much display traits of the dictatorship even decades after the revolution technically ended it! You do not know what a dictatorship is! You haven't opened a history book!! The one thing I repeatedly told you to do!!

Also the fact you keep insisting on calling North Korea "DPRK" goes to show the fact you don't actually know jack about history. If you did you would know what the Korean war was, what it meant for the Korean peninsula, what it meant on a global scale. You would know how it affected South and North Korea, you would know why North Korea attempts to call itself "People's republic of Korea", but you don't. You are clueless about what happens in the real world.

This is the last response I am making to your imperialism apologetic ass until you actually read about the history of the real world. You're just a blinded kid who'd rather call people they don't know "racist" than learn about how the real world works.

[barneyandthepoetrymuse]

Disappointment Panda 🐼

I think it has to be said and should’ve been way before now…

The turning point has been passed and shouldn’t have been allowed…

Who’s the responsible adults in the room and why’s nobody’s around…?

This is what happens when you bury your head deeply in the ground…

If taking care of our kids means taking the stones they throw…

Don’t tell us you know better, don’t tell us what we don’t know…

Don’t tell me I’m phobic…that’s a line I refuse to tow…

Not all footsteps lead to lapland…especially if they’re in the snow…

Esther Rantzen took an open mind she wasn’t afraid to show…

When the story of “Sir”Jimmy Saville shattered lives and broke…

So many children were left hanging at the end of that rope…

What is it you have to do these days to get the truth exposed…

What is a woman, what is a man, what is it you think you believe…?

When did the indisputable facts of life differ from this time last week…?

You get nothing in this life for free, even the chance to speak…!!

How can you be too careful with..vulnerable children’s safety…!!!

Take a deep breath in and don’t be afraid to say what you see…

He is a he, she is a she, you can find the descriptions in the dictionary…

Take time to review the first book, or wait to pan the trilogy…..

Listen to the critics and not the deniers who have ultimate responsibility…

The bullets are real but the authorities are shooting out blanks…

There’s only affirmation on this hilltop and we’re running out of tanks…

It’s an irritation annihilation and we must be marched like ants…

Bring your foot down on top of us while you’re scratching your pants…!!!!!

Stick your head above the parapet along with the likes of JK…

Or take the line of defence that tomorrow is another day…..

I suppose it’s not your generation so turn a blind eye to the pain…

Don’t let something like personal responsibility stand up and in your way……

Ignore the cries for help and chase the doubts away…

Now that we’re all speechless and you’re the ones to blame…

Get down to city hall for prescriptions of vitriol and false claims…

You know you’re one of the perpetrators in everything else but name…..

Shut in all the children, our schools are a kind and safe place…

Make changes to the education system and do it all in haste…

The tide is starting to turn but we’re only catching a few waves…

Where’s the life guards in the water, it’s only people saving face…..

It’s virtual reality that’s hacking in and tracking the good grades…

This is the real lockdown and this is our nation state…

You don’t need to study the facts or write out any essays…

You’re eventually be WOKEn at night after painfully destructive decades…

We’ve pandered to the issues and been calked out as fake…

We’ve been thrown into exile and burned at the stake…

When did logic and science transition into darkest space…?

You’re removing a child’s healthy body parts for goodness sakes…

Bearing all the hallmarks of so many previous tragic mistakes…

Where are the millennials now and where are all the snowflakes…?

Don’t let a few question marks undermine the political landscape…

They’d rather cut off their hands than hold them up to their mistakes…

It’s unfortunately not your body, you’ve been born a mismatch…

We live in a time where a cat is a dog and a dog is a cat…..

It’s not your fault you’re a person who’s been designated the wrong hat…

If you take it off today then tomorrow you can always put it right back….

Where was the impartiality in speaking out with caring concern…

Where was the rationale in what you’ve now discerned…..?

What does it teach you and whose..lessons have been learned…?

Guess what…it’s not you at the sharp end of all that you’ve affirmed……….!!!!!!!

Fuck all the rainbows and sponsorship deals…

You could’ve funded some new schools or offered free meals…

Instead you’re dishing out hormones to the vulnerable and mentally ill….

You can always redirect the funding…but you can’t reattach genitals……!!!!



[alexanderhamilton-official]

awww he asked so nicely despite you sexually harassing his husband for two days straight!

"I didn't sexually harass anyone. That would mean I would have to touch him inappropriately or push myself onto him despite him pushing me or backing off. Our only physical contact was me touching his chin, which is when he backed up from, and I didn't insist by coming closer once again. You annoying, uneducated anons are taking words out of context and using them in situations where they're not fit. You must have a dictionary in your home, do you not? Please, for Christ's sake, go open it and look for the definition of sexual harassment. Fucking god. I really can't deal with you bastards anymore. Words like this should not be thrown around and used so lightly. This is a VERY heavy accusation you're putting me under. And I won't stand for it."

[mallsharks]

"the voices" "my intrusive thoughts won teehee" "delulu" "i used the wrong personality for one of my friend groups" have you considered shutting your fucking mouth??

stop making fun of people with hallucinations or delusions or any kind of pyschosis

stop saying youre fucking "schizopilled" (???? wtf does that even mean)

stop saying intrusive thoughts when you mean impulsive thoughts

just fucking. stop using serious mental health terms when you've never experienced said issues!! its not funny! its not cute!! we wish our intrusive thoughts were just about dying our hair or doing something "haha so random!!" instead of the most graphic things imaginable!! we wish we didnt have BPD!! hell, we honestly sometimes wish we didnt fucking have OSDD!! go open a fucking dictionary for fucks sake.

[tranquilspot]

John: Examine GameBro Magazine.

CW: toxic masculinity, in-text misogyny, mention of someone getting hurt, stairs

Oh boy, the first long block of text I am mandatorily obliged to read for the sake of this reread.

I know that it's a parody, a joke both for the magazine writers and the author themselves, but this dude should be fired. You know, a GOOD reviewer would try to leave their confort zone and be curious of any kind a video genre. I like simulation, point n click adventures, puzzles, and action adventure games. Indies are the best! But you know what? I get interested by horror, rogue-like, turn-based strategy, first person shooters, heck I even played GTA and watched a bit of Yakuza. But that's not my favourite thing. And despite it all, I learned to be at least a minimum intrigued by other genre. So while it's fiction, it's shameful and disappointing that this dude played like, 5-10 minutes at the very most of Sburb and decided that it was lame and not worth his time.

His reason?

Because he didn't get to destroy stuff. Not only it's dumb and unrealistic to expect every single game to have destruction as part of the gameplay, if not the main gimmick if his attitude is to be trusted, but his impatience turned on him. Because you get to destroy things. TT did it (on purpose), GG did it (by accident). And he could get what he wanted if he didn't judge the book, rather the game here, by its cover and continued to play with his friend at Sburb.

It reminds me of a good article about masculinity in video games and its community. Go give it a shot if you're interested, it's in french but you can put the article in a translator. 'Video games have been parasitized by masculinist imaginary' End of the aside, let's dig into the article properly.

John: Read article.

Non native english speakers when they want to make transitions x)

"cats"? That's a lame way to designate people.*quick research* Hmm I was convinced he was specifically narrowing it to women players, cause I would have translating it to 'minettes' in french. But 'cats' in this context is 'guy'. But as in 'men' or 'people' in general? It's 2009, and the golden age of let's play is 2012, so it's tricky to pin out exactly if it's still a stereotyped period or if the game industry is more open to other genders (read as: cisgender girls, not a lot of neutrality or lgbt+ content during that time). What was I playing, raised as a cis girl in 2009? I checked and the Sims 3 was released that year but I barely discovered the series so I was playing the Sims 2. I mean, nobody forcing you to write anyway, dude.

I hate that he's fakely open-minded. "Like yeah to each their own, but breaking stuff is actually the real shit ". It irks me.

I'm glad he would be booed nowadays. You can't unironically write stuff like that and not expecting some backlash. He probably doesn't care, he won't suffer any consequences.

When in doubt, my buddy Urban dictionary is here to the rescue! Ok so 'wicked up' is being wasted, but how does 'ins' come into it?

*more research* Hmmm o.kay. Man bro slang can be difficult to decipher. Don't get my started with "the hook" and "pirouette off the handle" and all that. With the whole Strider lingo, there's still trouble to come..

What? What about my mom? She could murder you with words, you know. She isn't one to be stepped on and I'm proud of her <3 You gave 1.5 hats because I'm pretty sure you have to give a mandatory minimum note to a game. I mean, I don't really care. You'll be dead with the rest of humanity in a few hours. Really played yourself here.

I'll allow it, this article is terrible and going nowhere so at this point, who cares?

Oh fuck yeah! I saw it in theaters when it came out. I don't remember much of it cause it was more than 10 years ago, but I remember liking it. I saw it with my brother, and maybe my mom. Idk too far to recall.

D:

oh nooo!

May Dennis have a prompt and good recovery.

Also, 'huge useless tool against wet grass' would be so confusing for someone who doesn't quite master the english language. If we took it at face value, it's like rubber screwdriver dripping in morning dew. That's.. quite cute and poetic actually. A forgotten toy caressed by the grass and water.

What a shame indeed. *quick translation* Wow what an advanced word to use all of the sudden. 'girth' ooh boy I'm so glad to learn so many new words, and I will totally not forget them the next morning /sarcasm /half-joke

At least he's nice enough to wait and try again to watch it. Wait, is 'Brotel Rwanda' his name? Or at the very least his pen name. Rwanda is a country in Africa, and the first name got 'bro' in it. It sounds fake, gonna be the latter.

This article too, was perfectly wasted. That was boring yet I manage to deliver a whole-ass post.

Alright, let's go back to John's shenanigans, shall we? —>

[multistoty]

❝  you love me too much.  i know how that sounds but—  fucking hell.  you shouldn’t care that much about someone like me.  ❞ ( for padme ! ) - months old ask where the blog name was different  for @corruptedforce​

"What the sith spitting hells are you talking about?!" Padme started as his words continued. Normally, she wasn't one to cuss though this had to be the type of situation to do it in. At first, the brunette had planned to remind him that he was worth all the love that she could give and press her mouth in butterfly kisses to his exposed skin. A gentle reminder that he was the most precious thing to her in this universe even if it meant the republic would fall tomorrow. There was no world where she couldn't be selfish were his love was concerned. They were owed this bit of happiness in their world of sacrifices for the sake of the people in this galaxy. The bleeding hearted young doe fearful of the darkness creeping forward had now morphed into anger. Anger that he could still think of himself that way even anger at herself for not showing him how worthy he was. It was one of the vows she had made on her own visit to Shmi's grave. Anakin was now hers to cherish and make smile despite the pounding of rain that was pressed against their blue skies. He had told her once that he was Anakin and not a slave or anything else that fact had not changed. Tears glistened her coffee stained eyes though they were fought with an attempt to blink them away. This was about Anakin's feelings and she needed to hear them. If he saw her unraveling at his words, he would shut down or apologize for yelling and pulling her into his side. As his wife, she needed to hear this no matter how heartbreaking it sounded. He knew her tell of allowing her hands to slightly shake occasionally covered by fixing the edges of her dress when anxiety and pain truly bared down as their weren't many options to a royal. Instead, her fingernails were drawing bloody half moons against the gentle skin of her palms. Brown orbs holding a fire that threatened to burn them both were they stood. "First, don't talk to me like that. Second, who do I have to kill? When you left this morning, you smiled and told me to remember to actually rest at some point. Now, I come home to you pacing like a caged animal and you blow up like that. You deserve love, Anakin! You are smart, wonderful, kind, handsome,loyal, gifted, and brave. I could make a thousand volumes of dictionaries when describing the good things about you. I love you more then my next breath and without you i'd probably just want to die. I won't let your head or anyone else's try to tell you that you are not perfect and worthy of all I can give and more. If anyone is the problem, It's me. Clearly I haven't done enough or showed you enough. I am always open to hear your heart. it happens to be my favorite song to listen too even if you have never ever yelled at me like that. My love is not something to earn even if you have been worth more than any that I could give a thousand times over. You know that sand you hate? I have more good thoughts about you and feelings of love then there are grams in that sand. Not because your the chosen one, but because you are you. I will not allow the stupid prejudices of others to make you think you are scum. If I was the slave, would you think it was my fault? Would you blame me? No. Loving you is the greatest joy of my life. Since I have told you about this baby, you act like your going to break me with your touch or your love. I am not so easily broken and you are going to be the greatest father even Obi-wan would agree. You will learn and that is understandable. Please."