#4. Dispute Management

[thepoetrytheorist]

If you love Disney, its parks, its media, and its merch, listen up.

So I work for Disneyland, and we are talking about striking very soon. So soon, in fact, that we've been hosting rallies just outside of the parks. Yesterday was the 69th birthday of Disneyland Anaheim... it was also a monumental rally.

I haven't seen anyone on tumblr talking about the impending strikes against Disney. Not even going through the Disney tags or searching tumblr for "Disneyland Strike."

Let's talk about why we're striking:

Cost of living in the immediate SoCal region is nearly 2x as much as we are getting paid.

Cast members that have worked for the company for long periods of time are still paid as mucha s new hires.

Disney has showed up to union negotiations with insulting offers, including at 25 cent raise. Most cast members make $19.90

Disney rarely schedules you. In some areas and departments, you are fighting with your fellow cast members for hours. I have heard of cast members who are only scheduled for 1 4-hour shift per week. Many of those cast members have upwards of an hour commute to and from work.

Disney Admin has told attractions castmembers [so: rides, rollercoasters, and anything fun you get to do and see at the parks] that we are losing them money, which is why they refuse to schedule us and pay us. In the words of my partner, who also works at the parks, Disney without attractions is an over glorified mall and a food court. Disney needs us, and they know it, but they do not respect us.

Disney has an unfair attendance policy. It can be very difficult to get a needed day off, even when it has been requested weeks or months in advance. When you do take a day off [with-out accrued sick or vacation time] it counts against you. You can have 3 a month, 6 in 90 days, 9 in 180 days, or 12 in a year. How do you accrue sick/vacation? Hours worked, which can be impossible with the scheduling practices mentioned above. (Most cast members trade shifts among themselves to get around this.)

Cast members feel unsafe and unsupported in the parks. Many cast members have felt threatened by entitled guests upset that they are following policy. Disney Leads and Managers have to say yes to these guests and make things happen, though. [Which only makes this behavior worse and more dangerous for cast members who are only doing their job.]

Cast members also report feeling threatened, or even being literally threatened, by management in the parks. Especially cast members who have a second job. Especially cast members who know their rights.

Further, cast members work in hazardous conditions with pay that does not reflect that. Many cast members report losses of hearing, sore throats, and severe back and shoulder pain. Cast members are also exposed to infectious diseases at a much higher rate.

https://www.sfgate.com/disneyland/article/union-button-contract-dispute-19515296.php?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR2u5o_mvU3i6jpIyHxBUZpEzD2GRSKFf5Pem4uRXqa6vKWDgZuffvINd1g_aem_AA1L0fI1phugJIluYMcDSw

[andrewjbernhard]

Navigating Declaratory Judgments for Condo Associations and HOAs: Milestone Reports and 40-Year Certifications in Florida

Attention Condo Associations Florida! New regulations, managing milestone reports, and 40-year certifications is daunting. This post dives deep into how declaratory judgments can be a crucial tool in ensuring compliance and resolving disputes. #Milestone

For Condominium Associations and Homeowners’ Associations (HOAs) in Florida, maintaining compliance with state regulations and ensuring proper management of community properties can be complex. Among the critical responsibilities are performing milestone reports and 40-year certifications, which are essential for the safety and upkeep of aging buildings. In cases where there is uncertainty about…

[pingwen]

Imagine TADC Ep. 4 from Gummigoo's perspective for a moment. Like imagine if you went to a McDonald's and the cashier was like. STARTLED to see you, and kept kind of looking at you expectantly, as if you're supposed to recognize her, and then she follows you to your table.

And then when the manager shows up and tells her to stop being so weird to the customers and get back to the register, she says, "but... it's [YOUR REAL NAME]. Can't it wait? I mean, it's not like any of this is real," and the manager doesn't seem to dispute that but tells her to get to the register anyways.

And then you eat breakfast with your friends and as you're walking out the cashier runs up to you again and says "I just wanted to wish you a pleasant day. Thanks for eating at mcdonalds." And she looks like she genuinely might cry and that this was, like, her last chance to say something to a loved one.

And then you leave.

How do you even PROCESS that

[cescalovestowrite]

Penelope's situation during the years of Odysseus' absence is completely out of the ordinary and I want to discuss why:

We have a couple of examples to assume that when leaving for the Trojan War, the heads of families left the task of controlling their home and taking care of their wives and children to one or more trusted persons. The reasons for this choice are clearly the protection of the home and those who are part of it (in a society accustomed to continuous raids and enemy attacks, at least one adult male who's able to defend the family is needed in the house) and also the control of the wife's conduct.

This is witnessed in the story of Agamemnon, who entrusts Clytemnestra to a minstrel. So when Aegisthus decides to seduce her, he must first knock out her guardian. And in fact he does so, abandoning him to die on a desert island.

At first Queen Clytemnestra turned a deaf ear to his dishonourable schemes. She was a sensible woman, and besides, she had a minstrel with her, to whom Agamemnon when he left for Troy had given orders to watch over his queen. (Odyssey, book 3, Rieu)

Odysseus entrusts the care and protection of his wife to his friend and companion, Mentor. But what happens is that for some reason that is not explained to us, Mentor is unable to effectively assume this role. We do not know whether it has been like this for twenty years or not, what we do know is that when the suitors arrive, he is not protecting the house. There isn't even the need to knock him out, in fact he is still alive and well at the time the Odyssey is set. He speaks to the assembly, tries to bring the people to go to Telemachus' aid, but he is silenced and ignored.

Laertes is also in no condition to intervene. At the beginning of the Odyssey Penelope still hopes that he could help her, but it comes to nothing.

He shall go straight to Laertes, sit down beside him, and tell him the whole story. Perhaps Laertes may hit upon some scheme and come out of his retreat to appeal to the people, who seem intent on wiping out his and Odysseus' royal line. (Odyssey, book 4, Rieu)

Indeed, we know from Penelope herself that before leaving, Odysseus had asked her to take care of his parents, as she already did. This suggests that even then Laertes was considered unfit for the role of head of the family. And moreover Odysseus had taken his place on the throne at an unspecified time, even though Laertes still had quite a few years ahead of him. Everything suggests that the handover of royal power was peaceful and agreed upon.

So it's clear Mentor is not strong enough, Laertes is not strong enough, Telemachus is just a child... What happens is that Penelope finds herself accounting for her actions only to herself. I would like to emphasize once again just how exceptional this is. As long as Odysseus is in Troy the problem is relative, because he can return in case of need and there is news of him. But after Troy?

Penelope takes responsability for a series of kingly duties. In addition to managing the house:

she tries to intervene in disputes, especially when the suitors prove to be troublemakers

she interacts with her subjects (Eumaeus informs us while talking to Odysseus that this has not happened lately and that they miss it),

she tries to restore the wealth of the house as best as she can, by accepting courting gifts

she welcomes and interrogates strangers and tries to keep their house respectable.

For how are you, stranger, to find out whether I really am more intelligent and resourceful than other women, if I leave you to sit down to meals ragged and dirty in my house? (Odyssey, book 19, Rieu)

Hell, even Odysseus, the first time he talks to her after twenty years, compares her to a king:

"My lady", answered the resourceful Odysseus, "there is not a man in the wide world who could find fault with you. For your fame has reached broad heaven itself, like that of some illustrious king, ruling a populous and mighty country with the fear of the gods in his heart, and upholding justice." (Odyssey, book 19, Rieu)

What we do know is that by the time Telemachus reached full maturity, the role of master and protector of the house and Penelope would fall on him if Odysseus did not return. Telemachus' maturation is a very important theme in the Odyssey and also a source of friction between him and his mother. Although he has yet to gain full control of the house (which in fact he will not get since Odysseus returns at the most critical moment), we can infer from the text that by the time the Odyssey is set, he has the power to send Penelope back to the house of her father, Icarius. Or at least technically he should have it. Penelope tells us that he implores her to leave, so we do not understand whether he could actually send her away if he really wanted to. In any case, whether he has the power or not, he decides not to use it:

It is quite impossible for me to cast out, against her will, the mother who bore me and who brought me up, with my father somewhere at the world's end, perhaps alive, perhaps dead. Think what I would have to pay Icarius if I were to send my mother back to him. [...] And I would incur in the wrath of my countrymen. (Odyssey, book 2, Rieu)

It is also interesting that, despite Icarius urging his daughter to remarry, for some reason he does not have the authority to take her and bring her back to Sparta with him. I maintain that Penelope has an abnormal freedom and control, practically on the brink of "illegality" as conceived by the society of the time.

But how is it possible that she can do it? In my opinion what she does is a studied move: the attempt to take power for herself, using the memory of Odysseus to legitimize it. She must demonstrate that she is not a threat to the pre-established order, but rather that she acts in function of it. That there is no need to worry, because she makes all the decisions on behalf of her husband, not against him. And if she keeps things exactly as they are for twenty years (that is, without a male figure who for the time, I want to stress it, is NECESSARY) it is only for the good of Odysseus. And this is true on her part, I do not think there is malice in her. But let's realize that by serving the purposes of her husband she finds herself doing something that not even Clytemnestra did. That is, GOVERNING COMPLETELY ALONE. Without a man.

But to do that, she has to play it really well. She must always keep the memory of Odysseus alive, she cannot allow anyone to forget who the rightful king is. She talks about him constantly, and has imposed a state of perpetual mourning on herself that does not allow for interruptions.

I just want to point out that I am not arguing that it is all a show or that her feelings towards Odysseus are not true. But my point is it is not just for love, it is also to stay afloat that she does what she does.

An analysis of this kind is obviously not new, it's already very discussed by scholars. Below I cite the main sources that gave me these ideas. Obviously no interpretation is set in stone, so if someone wanted to discuss it I would be absolutely willing.

https://www.jstor.org/stable/44578485?read-now=1&seq=2#page_scan_tab_contents

https://www.jstor.org/stable/26308152?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents

Penelope's Renown. Meaning and Indeterminacy in the Odyssey, by Marylin A. Katz

[citywitchwithanxiety]

Baby I know That's That Me Espresso

What about you keeps them up at night? Pick a pile!

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 1: 10 of Pentacles (R), Queen of Cups (R), King of Cups, & The Chariot (R), 4 of Wands

chance, fatality, loss, games of hazard | good woman but not to be trusted, dishonor | creative intelligence, fair man, responsible | riot, dispute, defeat | peace, harmony

Hoooooly shit. Clearly you to have gotten into a fight and they lost. They can't stop thinking about how you managed to out argue them and win. I can't pinpoint exactly what the fight would have been about but I can safely say that it destroyed everything. Your lives were perfect together before and now they stay awake at night thinking about what could have been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 2: 3 pf Pentacles, King of Pentacles, Page of Wands (R), The Lovers (R), & Knight of Swords

glory, skilled, nobility | stem skills, intelligence, valor | indecision, announcements, evil news | failure, foolish designs | capacity, defense, wraith, war, opposition

It is giving academic rivals. In their eyes you are so incredibly smart and just filled with nobility and glory. There's 2 ways I could take this and I think it depends on the person here; either you are incredibly smart, it pisses them off and it's a whole enemies thing or they have had to watch you fail due to your own foolishness and that pisses them off because you're so smart and would never overlook something so simple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 3: The Star (R), The Judgement, Queen of Wands, 2 of Cups (R), The World (R

arrogance, haughtiness | change of position, outcome | friendly, loving, honorable | false love, misunderstanding | stagnation, permanence,

This persons perception of you has definitely changed. At first they thought you were the most self-centered, arrogant asshole in the world, but after getting to know you a little bit they think you are lovely. Now I should mention that I'm getting a vibe of limerence not love. This person has a very specific version of you that is barely accurate and is unable to see past it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed the readings and let me know what other topics you'd like to see happen!

[dear-ao3]

imola qualifying, because what the fuck

-prior to imola qualifying of course we had the appointing of an american pope. this would be an omen for ferrari but in this economy what Isn’t an omen for ferrari

-also you know the alpine team principal ollie oaks stepped down and his brother was implicated in some weird mafia something esque money scheme thing and they sort of appointed known f1 and otherwise criminal flavio briatore as tp, previously known for the infamous crash gate scenario that got him a lifetime ban that somehow got turned over last year and of course his first order of buisness was to replace jack doohan, the driver he manages, with franco colapinto for five races but that’s neither here nor there

-nearly instantly yuki tsunoda does a flip and bins his redbull into a wall. not looking great.

-he is okay though

-did i mention that horner might be getting ixed from red bull? unlikely but so is a ferrari championship these days

-also kimi antonelli, the italian mercedes driver, took his whole class, because he is still in school, to imola and got them to wear mercedes merch. in a ferrari country. legend.

-at the end of q1 franco colapinto also bins it into a wall and ends the session. which is not great

-just before the red flag both aston martins cross the line 3 and 4. as in the aston martins piloted by lance stroll and fernando alonso. in 3 and 4. and also on medium tires because the soft tires they’re using are new this year and are reportedly a nightmare so aston just decided to bypass that entirely and use the mediums which were last years softs. confused? don’t worry about it.

-just after the red flag ollie bearman crossed the line and got out of the drop zone. but then it got disputed because it was technically just After the flag, despite the fact that he would be through if the time counted

-if ollie bearman gets out though gabriel bortoleto would be though. and both teams prepped their cars and drivers for q2 because both teams thought their car should be in.

-gabriel bortoleto went out first in q2, putting an end to the debate and ollie bearman begrudgingly took his p19 or whatever it was

-in q2 the real disaster struck

-first. kimi antonelli, who is literally from bologna. where the race is. got knocked out by pierre gasly

-THEN right before the end of the session within the last seconds BOTH ASTON MARTINS ON THEIR MEDIUM TIRES managed to knock BOTH FERRARIS out of q2

-both ferraris as in sir lewis hamilton who is already at his wits end with ferrari and we’re only a quarter of the way through the year and also charles leclerc who has the worst luck in the world

-and both aston’s are still piloted by lance and fernando

-charles said over radio when told he was p11 “my god. my god. my god. My God.”

-and also carlos sainz went fastest. in a williams.

-and alex albon And isack hadjar were Also through to q3

-but not a single italian. or person who has lived in italy. or ferrari engine. because of american pope.

-q3 was standard. oscar pole. max p2. george snuck into third above lando. because he put on the medium tires a la aston martin.

-one can only hope the race tomorrow is filled with spice

-ciao

[starguardianniom]

Billy and Lighter

I love their dynamic so much.

Freaking Lighter of all people sees Billy as his worthy rival.

Ngl but I legit think it's because Billy is the only one he can fight without being afraid of passing out.

Given Lighter faints at the sight of blood and that Billy is an android, if Billy gets hurt he will probably leak oil, but no blood, which is perfect for Lighter.

I honestly, half-seriously thinks that's the sole reason Lighter considers Billy is rival, because he won't risk embarassing himself if he manages to hurt Billy while fighting as Billy has no blood for him to faint to.

But he also does respect him given he thinks highly of him and actually likes him like a brother too.

They playfully tease one another but you can also clearly see that Lighter has a high opinion of Billy and is also happy for him to have found happiness somewhere else too, and that's so wholesome, my heart.

I was pratically screaming of joy in my head the entire time yesterday when I speedrun the chapter (I had the day off lucky me so I used it to clear out chapter 4 entirely yeah!).

I took so many pictures, will upload them this weekend, now I need to go do that certification exam to get my people to level 50, given I need to level up pretty much everyone I have right now (Billy, Anby, Nicole, Corin, Soukaku, Ben, Anton, Seth, Jane and Lucy are the characters I currently have the game refuses me Piper and just sended me a lil army of Corins, Anby and Soukaku, now I have Anby and Soukaku to M4 and Corin to M3, though it gave me Billy M2 and Seth M2 thank god) I'll be at it for a while.

But honestly I expected Lighter to be a bit more mean toward Billy and feeling superior to him but it seems like I was worried for nothing, Lighter loves Billy and Billy loves him back, though I'm pretty sure Billy also thinks that he wasn't able to escape Lighter entirely given he now has Anby around. XD Lighter keeps forgetting things and Anby keeps forgetting the line between fiction and reality, I imagine Billy must be used to Anby because he had to spend half his time reminding Lighter of stuff all the time. XD

I swear Billy had it better than Lighter back then, given he was the Champion that means he was the strongest of the Sons of Calydon, which means he's stronger than Big Daddy, and Big Daddy is most likely the one who raised and taught Caesar how to fight, so if she didn't get the title of Champion back then, then Billy was most likely strong enough to beat her too and Big Daddy. But then he left. But he also got to meet Lighter before that, but Lighter is weaker than Caesar but still has the title for some reason, so it's a bit murky there as to why they needed 2 champions.

I think Billy wanted to leave or something happened that made him leave and then Big Daddy brought in Lighter to pick up his title but Billy sticked around long enough to make sure Lighter was up for the job given they have a good brotherly friendly rivalry relationship together so once Billy thought Lighter was ready he gave him his title and left. And then Caesar got to be the new boss of the Sons of Calydon when Big Daddy retired, and was strong enough that she was able to beat Lighter apparently.

But the title of Champion is basically being the number 2 of the gang, so if the leader isn't around it's most likely the champion calling the shots and making sure everything is alright and settling disputes and what nots, but since Lighter is pretty scatterbrained, most of the duties went to Lucy while Lighter is just now extra muscles, since Lucy is pretty much the one making sure everything is alright and being the brains of the Sons, but she clearly doesn't have the strenght to be the Champion because Lighter is the one with that title.

So I imagine Billy used to handle negotiations and relations and other stuff with Big Daddy before he left and probably used to be deadly efficient, in some parts of the story he is a lot more aware and shrewd than he presents himself most of the time, such as asking us about the H.D.D and asking why we'd bother to be proxies when we could have done so much more and get a much more lucrative job, or when he was ready to sell us out to PubSec to save the Cunning Hares and himself pointing out that the Cunning Hares could get their record cleaned if they reported a proxy, which was a very smart way of thinking given their situation back then. He is also knowledgeable about the Outer Ring, so he is way much smarter than he acts too.

I do feel like Billy is seen as a superior predecessor to Lighter and while Lighter doesn't resent Billy at all for it he also feels the need to prove himself to him in some way to live up to his "brother's" legacy.

Lucy probably didn't have much to do until Billy left and Big Daddy retired. Then she basically became the second half of the Champion title in the Sons of Calydon, being the brain to Lighter's brawn, but Billy before them had the title on his own to the point that he is still feared today by other people in the Outer Ring.

It does beg the question of what was Billy like back then, probably less happy and more brutal and having the mindset of a weapon maybe, but he was still cared for a lot.

I also like to think that Big Daddy called him Billy Kid because he honestly saw Billy as "his" kid when he bought him from a group of drifters, now I really want the whole story, if they release Big Daddy and Lighter, give them more content with Billy, I need more, Hoyo!

[silvermountaingirl]

Locus Magazine's September update on the Neil Gaiman allegations

"CORRECTIONS (on page 4) In our August 2024 story regarding recent allegations against Neil Gaiman, we erroneously described Tortoise Media (which broke the news) as a tabloid; we apologize for the mischaracterization. Tortoise Media is a British news website founded in 2018

MORE GAIMAN ALLEGATIONS (on pages 72-3) We reported last month on two women who accused author Neil Gaiman of sexual assault. Since then, three more women have come forward with allegations. Two of them spoke on the Tortoise Media podcast Master: The Allegations Against Neil Gaiman. Caroline Wallner lived on Gaiman’s property in Woodstock NY from 2014 to 2021, and says that she felt pressured to have sex with him in order to maintain her living situation; she further alleges that when she stopped responding to requests for explicit photos and videos, Gaiman’s business manager told her she had to move out by December 2021. Wallner says Gaiman paid her $275,000 that month in exchange for signing an NDA that ‘‘disputes and denies that Wallner has sustained any losses, damages, or injuries for which Gaiman is legally responsible.’’ Wallner chose to come forward after hearing the earlier allegations.

The second woman on the podcast, Julia Hobsbawm, says Gaiman made ‘‘an aggressive, unwanted pass’’ at her in 1986, when she was 22 and Gaiman was 25, after which she cut off contact.

Two other women reportedly declined to be interviewed for the podcast but provided messages and ‘‘corroborating evidence’’ pointing to a pattern of behavior on Gaiman’s part. Details are here: www.tortoisemedia.com/2024/08/01/exclusive-two-more-women-accuse-neil-gaiman-of-sexual-assault-and-abuse/

The other accuser, using the name Claire, appeared on a different podcast, Am I Broken: Survivor Stories. She claims that she was a fan of Gaiman and met him at a book event in 2012, subsequently entering into a ten-month in-person and long-distance relationship that allegedly included unwanted interactions such as a kiss, groping, phone sex, and pressure to have sex. She described feeling ‘‘gross’’ but going along with the kiss because ‘‘it was Neil Gaiman.’’ She claims Gaiman said, ‘‘I’m a very wealthy man, and I’m used to getting what I want.’’ She also said Gaiman claimed she initiated the contact, and that he blamed his autism for failing to properly read her body language. The podcast is here: amibroken.buzzsprout.com/763742/15488615-s4-ep2-claire-i-ignored-it-and-i-believed-him-because-he-s-the-storyteller-neil-gaiman.

Gaiman has declined to comment publicly on the allegations."

[temis-de-leon]

Demon Brothers as College Students

Characters: Demon Brothers and gn!reader (written as platonic, but reader is barely mentioned)

Main Masterlist

Anon request: The House of Lamentation as College students?

A/N: opened this doc to test the waters and ended up writing it in 4 hours (with a lunch break in between). Hope you enjoy it!

.

They were all kicked out of their house after a dispute with their father about their deceased younger sister.

Despite coming from an enormous family and being more than wealthy, buying a house for seven people while still studying was too out of their reach, so Lucifer (much to his chagrin) had to ask his best friend for help.

Diavolo is an extremely influential benefactor in the student body, so he manages to get a dorm just for them. However, there’s one condition: letting one normal student live with them to enhance the academic experience and not allow others to call them out on their privileges.

That normal student would be you.

And, at first, it is very uncomfortable.

These are seven people who have known each other since they were born, freshly abandoned by the rest of their family and learning how to navigate through a new life.

Do you want those credits? Well, they want their independence back.

They act like they don’t want anything to do with you in the beginning, but a loving and understanding attitude will have them trailing behind you like puppies in no time.

Lucifer is close to graduating, working as a TA while studying for his Bachelor of Accountancy and doing side jobs off-campus to get extra money. That means he’s extremely occupied, but he still makes an effort to spend time with his brothers and, with time, you.

He feels indebted to Diavolo, and his mind is set on working for him in the future, so he is strict about the rules and their reputation. It can get patronizing and tiring, but remember that he acts like that for the benefit of the family, and all that he wants is peace and stability.

They lost so much in the past; they deserve a good ending.

Mammon has changed degrees at least three times. He wants to have a successful career with no effort, so while his social life is impressive, his grades are pretty much embarrassing. You either see him at the cafeteria or working on his side gigs, but never in class; he's the type of guy who doesn’t even know his teachers’ names and wouldn’t be able to find his classroom for the life of him.

He receives a lot of shit from his brothers because of this and they’re all tired of hearing him say “they’ll regret treating him like this in the future”, but… thing is… his brothers are kind of right. If he ever forced himself to study Finance, which he’s unbelievably good at, he’d be able to qualify for honor roll. Sadly, that’s too boring for him.

At least his modelling gig is paying off, right?

Levi, as you may imagine, is quite the stereotype. He’s an otaku with an interest in technology, so of course, he’s enrolled in Computer Engineering, although you’d swear he’d be better at Asian studies. He has a passion for the culture, even if it’s too influenced by anime, and he’s very respectful on the matter.

You would think he is as bad at studying as his older brother, but you would be wrong. True, Levi doesn’t leave his room often and rarely goes to class in person, but he does the work online and manages to get some decent grades. However, if finals end up happening at the same time as his favourite anime’s premiere…

Yeah, he’s going to those remedial exams.

Satan, unsurprisingly, is studying a double major in History and Literature. He is an avid reader and much more intelligent than he already shows, so studying the passage of time and its effects on the arts makes him feel fulfilled and satisfied. Besides that, both are a never-ending field, so he won’t get out of material any time soon.

He is the perfect student, always on time, paying attention and fighting for good grades. Those who know who he is related to always compare him to Lucifer, and those who know Satan already learnt to shut up. While their behaviour is similar, they are completely different people, and Satan does everything possible to make that clear.

He makes friends with anyone and is always doing something. Truly a jack of all trades and a master of books.

Asmo never wanted to go to college to begin with. He wanted to be a social media influencer, which he actually achieved during his last year of high school, thanks to his open personality and fashion and skincare tips. However, there was no way in any universe where Lucifer would let him live such an uncertain lifestyle, so Asmo was forced to enrol in Fashion school.

Thankfully, he has talent and dedication, so he ends up enjoying his time there, and having millions of followers on each platform gives him the attention he obviously loves to have. His most popular videos are the ones he started with, focused on his clothes and his makeup, but he also has some viral ones with his brothers and even you.

There’s no day where he doesn’t get recognized on campus, especially once he starts working with beauty sponsors.

Beel knew what he wanted since the beginning, but he still ended up surprising his brothers. Except for his twin, all of them thought he’d be pursuing something related to sports thanks to the scholarships he got in high school, but he ended up choosing Nutrition. Food is, after all, one of the most important sources of happiness in his life, so he likes to make it healthy.

Sadly, he indulges in his cravings one too many times, so it’s very normal for everyone to see him working out in the campus gym, and his grades aren’t that great either due to him preferring the practice of eating over the theory of food. However, he knows he doesn’t have that many passions outside of food and exercise, so he works hard to keep going.

Sometimes he makes an appearance in Asmo’s channel, showing his expertise, but the comments are… feral.

Belphie wouldn’t have gone to college if literally anyone didn’t insist so much in him doing so. Beel especially, wanted him to continue living his life instead of revisiting the past, so for the sake of his twin, Belphie chose Astronomy. It’s a topic he’s been interested in since he was a kid, so opting for that major was almost romantic.

He always sits at the back of the class, arms crossed over his closed computer and head comfortably nestled on top of them, seemingly asleep. The teachers learnt not to worry about his apparent lack of interest since his grades were always at the top. It’s infuriating, watching him rest while everyone furiously scribbles on their notes, but that’s how he pays attention best.

He goes to finals with two pens and the knowledge that he didn’t have to pull an all-nighter to pass. Half of his class hates him for it.

So, somehow, you managed to find a dorm where every student could help you in your studies and your personal life. Not only do you get tutors for humanities, natural sciences and social sciences, but also contacts, life advice and endless support.

Sure, some of them party too hard, and others are too controlling, but by the end of the day, you know they will be clapping the hardest when you graduate, and their friendships won’t end once you leave campus.

Don’t be too surprised if some of them offer you a job conveniently close to them.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @mia4gotcookiez

[blueiscoool]

A Looted Bronze Statue That May Depict Marcus Aurelius Is Returning to Turkey

The repatriation comes after years of legal disputes over the true identity and provenance of the 6-foot-4 artwork, which has been housed at the Cleveland Museum of Art.

A headless bronze statue that may depict the Roman emperor and philosopher Marcus Aurelius will be repatriated to Turkey after an investigation determined that it had been looted, smuggled and sold through a web of antiquities dealers before arriving at the Cleveland Museum of Art in 1986.

The Manhattan district attorney’s antiquities trafficking unit first identified and took possession of the looted statue in 2023. But the statue remained in Cleveland while the museum challenged the seizure.

Last week, the museum relented and agreed to return the statue to Turkey. According to a statement, “new scientific testing” had revealed that the second-century C.E. statue was “likely present” at the Sebasteion, a shrine near the ancient Roman settlement of Bubon.

“The New York district attorney approached us with a claim and evidence that we felt was not utterly persuasive,” William M. Griswold, the director of the Cleveland Museum of Art, tells the Art Newspaper’s Daniel Grant. Officials then requested scientific tests to determine the validity of the claim.

All parties agreed that the scientific investigation would be led by Ernst Pernicka, an archaeologist and chemist who serves as the senior director and managing director of the Curt-Engelhorn-Center for Archaeometry in Germany.

As Pernicka tells the Art Newspaper, his tests followed a “well-established scientific procedure,” which included soil samples, lead isotope analysis and 3D modeling of the shrine site. Soil from within the statue matched soils in Turkey, and lead at the foot of the statue matched lead residue on a stone base where it may have been attached at the Sebasteion. Investigators also traveled to nearby villages to conduct interviews with locals who remember the looting.

Per the New York Times’ Graham Bowley and Tom Mashberg, the story goes something like this: Built nearly 2,000 years ago, the shrine featured bronze statues of Roman emperors, including Lucius Verus, Valerian and Commodus. An earthquake later buried the site, which was discovered by farmers in the 1960s. Villagers plundered the shrine and sold the bronzes to antiquities dealers like Robert Hecht, who faced allegations of smuggling before his death in 2012. After covert restoration in Switzerland and Britain, the items were sold to collectors and museums around the world.

With the statue of Marcus Aurelius returning to Turkey, the antiquities trafficking unit has seized 15 items looted from Bubon, collectively valued at nearly $80 million, according to a statement.

Turkish officials are celebrating the news. In a social media post, Minister of Culture and Tourism Mehmet Nuri Ersoy lauded the efforts to return the statue “to its rightful land,” per a translation by Türkiye Today. He added, “History is beautiful in its rightful place, and we will preserve it.”

In a legal sense, the case is closed. But mysteries about the bronze remain. The most glaring question: Who does the headless statue really depict?

When the Cleveland Museum of Art bought the statue from the Edward H. Merrin Gallery for $1.85 million in 1986, the receipt said “figure of a draped emperor (probably Marcus Aurelius), Roman, late second century [C.E.], bronze,” according to the Times. Standing at 6-foot-4, even without a head, it’s now thought to be worth around $20 million.

n its statement, the museum claims to have made a “relatively recent determination” that the statue is an unnamed philosopher rather than Marcus Aurelius. One stone base at the Sebasteion is inscribed with the ruler’s name, but the tests revealed that the statue was likely positioned on a different stone base without an inscription.

“Without a head or identifying inscription, the identity of the statue remains uncertain,” the museum adds.

However, Turkish officials dispute the museum’s claims, suggesting that the statue does depict Marcus Aurelius—both an emperor and philosopher—and may have been moved around between plinths, per the Times.

For now, the mysterious statue remains in the Cleveland Museum of Art. As Griswold tells the Art Newspaper, “The Turkish authorities are prepared to consider permitting the work to remain here in Cleveland for a brief period, so that our visitors may say farewell to the sculpture and so that we may explain to the public some of what we’ve learned in this process.”

By Eli Wizevich.

[bearprofessorr]

chasing the stars, part 3.

distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say.

ship: bfd!declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: slow burn, mentions of violence, drunk declan, no y/n. word count: 2.6k

find the other parts here! (part 4 is out now!!)

a/n: okok the slow burn is slow burning - howeverr that may not last for long, even i'm getting impatient and i'm the one writing the damn thing (anyone else get that?). some time skips happen here and there and will continue to just to get to the good stuff ;) enjoyyyy <3

You crossed paths in the morning, as you were helping Taggie clear up the remnants of your sleepover in the living room. Declan poked his head through, bidding both of you a good morning. It was clear enough he hadn't quite woken up yet - his hair was messy, only combed back with his hand, with a mug of coffee in his grip. Apart from that, you didn't speak, with you having to go back to your flat to sort some things out before your shift started that afternoon.

Your work, unfortunately, needed an extra hand around the place on Friday - so you ended up so busy you had to miss your arranged Friday night plans with Taggie to busy yourself around the place because someone had gotten sick the night before.

However, the plus side to all of this was, during the week - even if you weren't seeing Taggie until Friday; according to Corinium's scheduling for the week, Declan was supposed to be co-hosting a pageant show with two other equally random guests. You thought for a moment about how much he likely disputed it, considering their last conversation was about the inner beauty of a woman, you reckoned that judging purely on looks was the last thing on his agenda. Regardless, it would be funny to see the panel of men blush and try to be modest for a few hours - and the whole thing was live, for that extra buzz of excitement.

The rest of your week was pointedly uneventful, filled with menial shifts and occasional late night calls with Taggie, where she would regale the long stories of bumping into Rupert in town while she was getting groceries or seeing him walk across the street from the parking lot to a shop of any kind. It was sweet, to hear about her romances, and how she was managing to hide all of it from her father - who still seemed apprehensive about Rupert from her point of view. You told her every time that Declan was just being protective of his oldest daughter, and if anything were to happen, he would just have to suck it up. That usually calmed her down, made her laugh instead of worry, and every time she would apologise for going on about him.

"Really, it's terrible, I'm always talking about him and I never hear a word about anyone from you." Taggie chastised you playfully, being self-deprecating in the process, "Is there not one guy at all that you're crushing on?"

There is. Very unfortunately for you, there is. The one man that you can never have, unless you wanted to risk losing Taggie forever, so you lied instead. "There isn't, all the guys at work are so unimaginative it's almost cruel to think about how they live. They all just sit around and do the bare minimum - I can't imagine how they'd be in a relationship."

"It's true," Taggie conceded, "All the boys our age still haven't grown up at all - it's like they're all still in school."

"And that's why you're going for Rupert?" You teased, hearing the groan of your best friend from the other side of the phone, laughing between your words as your continued to speak, "Since the only people who can treat you right are big, manly, men."

"Hey-" Taggie tried to refute, but was unsuccessful, "That's not true."

"Right fine, Sebastian can be the exception, but… when was the last time he took you out?"

"Don't make me feel even worse-" Taggie groaned.

"I'm sorry, Tag, but it's true," You said between a laugh, "You can't say I'm wrong when he's proving me right!"

"I know." She frowned, which came through in her voice. Taggie went to say something, but some muffled voices in the background stopped her, "Sorry, sweetheart, I'll see you Friday!"

This was how their calls often ended, abrupt - but you knew they'd pick up where they left off when you saw each other next. Luckily for you, you had something to occupy your evening on the Corinium network.

What you saw, frankly, was not entirely appalling. Declan was drunk - that much was clear from how different he looked compared to his show persona, and the fact you had dealt with a drunken Declan before. He looked relaxed, more himself, and still just as ruggedly handsome as you had grown to adore. Somehow, he had even less of a filter than normal, which led to him decking the Reverend in a sudden rage that ended the broadcast prematurely.

It wasn't quite instant, and you could hear the vague mumblings of anger from Declan - in his signature Irish accent - with the mild protestations from the Reverend before the feed cut out. Frankly there was nothing the old man could do to stop Declan, as much as he wasn't known in the news for his physique, you had seen - albeit accidentally - that he kept himself in shape. It was almost shocking the first time, but it wasn't repulsive, it had quite the opposite effect.

As soon as you stopped gawking at the TV, you tried to call Taggie at the Priory - unfortunately you couldn't get through, the line was busy. Either Taggie was trying to get a hold of Declan or Rupert - who you did see in the audience cutaways sitting by Freddie Jones. It didn't take much to put together that Thing 1 and Thing 2 were responsible for Declan's inebriated state. You tried your best not to think about it and get on with your evening chores before bed. You tried your best to not think on Declan most days - despite how much your mind gravitated toward him in your quieter moments.

What you didn't expect, though, was the knock on your door 10 minutes later. You opened it to a sorry sight of Taggie O'Hara, visibly exhausted as she nearly flopped into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug.

"I hope it's alright that I'm here," Taggie sounded like she was on the verge of tears, immediately trying to apologise as if she was some random person burdening a stranger, "I'm so sorry to spring this on you."

"It's no worry at all, sweetheart. You're always welcome here, you know that." You tried to reassure her as much as you could, but it was hard to do that with Taggie sometimes. The thing you had picked up on during their friendship was that Taggie had to sit with her emotions for a while before she could start dealing with them and moving forward, but it worked for her - even if you didn't completely understand sometimes.

"Did you watch the live show?" Taggie pulled away to look into your eyes, as you reluctantly nodded - your face sympathetic. Taggie's frown deepened at that, before burying it back into your embrace.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Your comforted, voice even and calm.

"Please."

"Come on in, Tag, I've got leftovers if you're hungry."

Taggie perked up after that, appreciating the warm normalcy she always had with you, shrugging off her coat in a familiar ritual along with her shoes, delicately placed alongside yours - with spaces left on each rack for them both.

The night was calm, which was exactly what Taggie needed before she went home to deal with whatever wreckage Declan had left behind him, if he even made it back to The Priory. Taggie said she would find out whatever she could, for her own sake and for yours, but she'd do that tomorrow morning, after a proper nights sleep.

It was a quick goodbye in the morning, with you rushing off to your shift, leaving Taggie behind to go home when she was ready - she had a spare key to lock up behind her anyways. She promised that she'd try and get her father in at least a decent state when she came over on Friday, but you reassured that you'd seen Declan drunk before - and knew how to deal with it.

"I'll call you after my shift, alright Tag?" You called out, propping the front door open with your foot, shrugging your work bag onto your shoulder. Only after you heard some kind of noise from Taggie did you truly say goodbye and let the door close behind you.

When you did phone the Priory, it wasn't Taggie that picked up, but her mother. You had met Maud earlier in the year, so recognised her Irish lilt on the other side of the phone.

"Who is it?" She sounded completely done already, tired and half-ready to hang up.

"Oh, sorry! Is Taggie there?" Your surprise came across in your voice, which probably didn't help with Maud's mood.

"I'll get her, she won't be long." Maud responded with an audible huff, before you heard the muffled 'Taggie! Phone!' being called out into the house, then the thud of the phone receiver being left on the dresser as footsteps trailed off into the house to do anything else but stand and wait at the phone.

A few minutes of dead air passed, and you got worried that Taggie wasn't going to come to the phone before you heard her, very out of breath, "My knight in shining armour! Sorry, I've been trying to stop everyone from ripping each other's throats out."

"I can imagine, it's almost like I can feel the tension through the phone." You joked, trying your best to lighten the mood, and the gentle laughter of your friend on the other side made your shoulders lift. "Are you doing okay? I can call later if you're busy."

"No, no, anything but that." Taggie pleaded, "I'm free as a bird, please, tell me about your day."

She needed distraction under stress - like her father - and you were more than happy to oblige and ramble on about the menial work you undertook. It was nice to talk to Taggie about anything, she was always such an active listener, asking questions and vocalising her opinions as the story progressed.

Halfway through one story, though, a voice came through in the background - quickly followed by another, neither of which were Taggie's. "Sorry, one second." Taggie's voice rang clear compared to the others' as she turned around and tried to calm down whatever was bubbling between them - that meant it was Declan and Maud, since as far as you were aware, Patrick and Caitlin were still at school.

"Who's on the phone?" You could barely make out the words, but it was distinctly Declan's voice.

Taggie filled Declan in on who was on the other side, finishing her sentence with, "We're just catching up - won't be long." Taggie's voice was as chipper as ever, calmer than the stressful version you heard when Tag first picked up the phone.

"Oh - what a lovely surprise!" Declan, audibly drunk Declan, spoke again, "Mind if I say hello?"

You could almost hear Maud roll her eyes as she added into the conversation, "When did you two get so friendly?"

"Mum!" Taggie immediately hit back, "She comes around here a lot, now, so obviously they know each other."

"That's not-" Maud tried to butt in again, but gave up, "Just give him the phone, would you?"

The exchanging of hands was a little flimsy, with hands running static over the receiver as it passed between them. It took a moment of silence before you heard Declan speak, clearer this time, "Hello love, are you alright?"

"Mhm, you sound like you've seen better days." You joked, trying to think of a segue to talk about what happened, but went with the clearest choice, "I saw the broadcast."

"That fucker deserved it. I won't tell you the details to spare the girl, but he's despicable and I stand by what I did." His tone shifted immediately, and it was obvious that the Reverend struck a nerve in Declan. The words sounded practiced, as if he had been continuously justifying his actions to anyone that asked.

"I never said I disagreed, I'm saying I saw." You kept your voice light, trying not to fall into the deep pits of negatives that your conversations seemed to steer to. "I'm sure whatever you did, you thought it was necessary. I'm just glad you're okay." 'I'm just glad you didn't end up with a charge.' went unsaid.

Declan grumbled on the other side of the phone as the anger rose and subsided in his system. His voice was softer as he spoke again, "Sorry, love. It's been a long couple of days."

"I can only imagine."

"You sound tired." His voice switched to concern, and you could almost see the furrow of his eyebrows over the phone, like he always did whenever he checked in on you or Taggie. "Are you still coming round on Friday, for your thing with Tag?"

On the other side of the phone, that you didn't see as Declan spoke to you, was the scrunched faces of Maud and Taggie, looking to each other for context and finding nothing but confusion mirrored back at them. Taggie was leaning back on the nearest pillar, arms crossed as she listened to Declan's side of the conversation, and was able to look at him while he spoke to you. It was nothing like when he had seen them speak before - and part of her wondered if there was something else happening. Quickly as it came, she dismissed the thought, knowing that if anything did happen she wouldn't be second-guessing it. She hoped she would be able to tell that something was up with you, or that her best friend would tell her just like she did to you about Rupert. Anyways, imagining her father getting closer to you was weird, and Taggie didn't want to admit where her mind went when she thought about your relationship developing.

Maud, on the other hand, knew Declan's softer side well, and as soon as she cottoned onto the shift in his demeanour, turned on her heel and marched off into the house. Declan didn't so much as hesitate when she did.

The chatter continued on, mindless questions back and forth before you excused yourself to clean up after your shift - you quite literally dropped your bag at the door and rushed to the phone to talk to Taggie - so Declan handed the phone back over so the two of you could finish up. After, he followed in the direction of his wife - to try and handle whatever caused her to storm off.

"Ah, hey Taggie, didn't think that would take so long, sorry." You apologised, "He's a real chatterbox, you know."

"Not always, but I don't think the drink helped." Taggie didn't hesitate to fall back into familiar rhythms, "Was there anything else you wanted to say?"

"No, nothing major. Yourself?"

"Not that can't wait until Friday."

You nodded along, forgetting for a moment Taggie couldn't actually see you, before vocalising the thought with a, "Good, I'll be there early so we have time to catch up."

"Great! I might not be there when you get here if it's before 6, I'm meeting with Lizzie to discuss some catering work, but Dad'll let you in."

"See you then, Tag!" Your smile came through in your words, proud of your best friend's successes.

And, if everything went as Taggie promised, all would be revealed on Friday.

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [3/...]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

"And I am the idiot with the painted face, in the corner taking up space. But when he walks in, I am loved."

— Mitski, "Me and My Husband"

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

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

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, Buggy is a lonely asshole, flashbacks, semi-canon divergence, Reader is strong AF,

A/N: I forgot to mention this before, but I guess this technically does hold some spoilers from the manga/anime. Keep in mind, I've not seen/read either piece, so it's merely used to give their stories some background.

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or comment :))

Fuck, fuck, fuck, where the fuck are you?

After some time of searching, Buggy finds you sitting by the docks, your feet gently swaying with the waves, almost free of any earthbound weight. He’d join you if he could, but he’s not brave enough to get too close to the waters yet.

However, he’s content enough to just watch you from a safe distance. The sky is free of clouds and the moon is full, which illuminates your shape like a bright lantern in the night.

Beautiful, that's what he thinks you are. In fact, that's what he's been thinking for a while now, not that he's ever told you that to your face. He wonders when he stopped looking at you like something more than a friend. 

Maybe it was when he caught you smiling at him after you'd successfully managed to steal a bottle of fine rum from the local bar, and you both ended up getting blackout drunk on the ship deck?

Maybe it was when he saw you win a round of arm-wrestling against one of your other crewmates, despite being significantly younger than the opponent.

Maybe it was when you beat a guy black and blue for making fun of his nose in public, with both him and Shanks cheering you on from a safe distance? 

It doesn’t matter when it was. What matters is that, for a while, he has found it difficult to take his eyes off you. Even if it’s just a peek, it usually takes him a while to force his attention on something else.

The rest of the crew are on the Oro Jackson, celebrating their recent endeavors, yet here you are, celebrating on your own. He finds it odd; you’re usually happy to participate in any celebrations with the crew, but you’ve decided to be here instead. It was your absence on deck that prompted Buggy to go looking for you.

The wind picks up and he can feel goosebumps spread across his skin like wildfire. He shivers and tugs his jacket tighter around himself, and that’s when he notices that you’re not wearing any additional clothing to stave off the cold in the night.

He finally calls out to you, a little throaty for reasons he refuses to disclose aloud. “You’re gonna get a cold like that, dumbass! You wanna get pneumonia and die or something?”

You subsequently turn around to face him, and his breath gets caught in his throat. Your sharp eyes, when caught in the moonlight, sparkle like a thousand treasures — compiled of gold, diamonds, and millions and millions of berries — holed up in two caves.

Smiling in the way that makes his pulse quicken, you proceed to wave your feet in the water. A few drops land on your arms, sparkling in the air before landing on the skin of your arms. “I don’t think so? If we get to the South Pole, maybe there’s a higher risk?”

He frowns and crosses his arms over his chest. “The North Pole is colder!”

“Ah, well,” you snicker. “In that case, then I’m not likely to get pneumonia unless we’re there.”

“You can still get cold! What are you, a moron?” 

For someone who can’t keep his eyes off you for extended periods, that doesn’t keep him from being rather crass in terms of vocabulary with you. That’s alright. You’ve never been one to appreciate honeyed words if your frequent bickering with both him and Shanks says something.

With another swing of your legs, you reestablish contact with with wooden platform and make your way over to him. That’s when he finally realises that you haven’t brought your shoes with you, but you don’t seem bothered by it. “By the way, what’re you doing here, Buggy?“

He considers telling you a simple lie that won’t clash with what he knows to be the truth. He was coincidentally going for a walk, he needed some air, he was purposefully looking for you…

“Noticed you weren’t on the ship,” he finally settles on with a hmph. “Had to make sure you hadn’t accidentally up and drowned or something. You’re a shitty swimmer,”

“Not as shitty as you,” you counter and blow him a raspberry. 

He’s about to tell you to fuck off or something when, again, he finds himself pausing. 

You’re smiling at him, so softly, and it feels so warm that the wind no longer has any effect on him. He can feel his cheeks scorch up and his heart is pounding so hard that it feels on the verge of breaking his ribs.

He hastily looks away and coughs a couple of times, trying to maintain what little dignity he has left.

“Are you alright?” You ask with faux concern. “Did you just catch pneumonia or something?”

“S-Screw you!”

You laugh, and it’s like music to his ears. Your laughs are usually raspy and hardly appropriate, but he finds that it’s the prettiest sound in the world. Your smile, your laugh, they are so warm that he hopes that you’ll never stop making them.

Out of the blue, you wrap an arm around his shoulder and begin tugging him on the path to the ship. “Come on, before they leave us behind.”

“Y-Yeah, let’s.” He doesn’t move to tug your arm away, and no power on this earth will make him.

------

Now that he's closer to the kid, Buggy realizes the stupidity of asking if he was yours. The two of you are nothing alike, but the truly defining factor lies in your eyes. Rubber Boy's eyes are too bright, too round. Whereas yours are knives ready to strike, his' are simple spoons.

He begrudgingly has to hand it to the kid; he's a fearless one. Even stretching his limbs beyond human capabilities does not diminish his spirit. Buggy doesn't know whether to applaud or reject the determination the boy has.

"I want you to think of this, like an artistic exercise," he explains. "Because pain leads to art, and art reveals truth."

He can't hear any commotion from the backrooms where he keeps you contained. Truth be told, he never expected it to keep you for long, only detain you for a limited amount of time. If he wants to both get the map and keep his life in one go, he is going to have to try and get it without necessarily ruining the kid too much.

Still, it doesn't keep him from testing the lines. He tries to pry the answers out with a needle, but no matter what he does, the kid remains infuriatingly mute. 

So, he decides to dig a little deeper.

"Now, what makes a boy want to grow up to be King of the Pirates? Who are you trying to impress?" He tilts his head with inquisitiveness. "A lost love?"

On cue, he can vaguely make out a gnarling sound coming from the back rooms. The sound of chains rattling, which he perceives as you probably moving in the enclosure. He thinks about sending someone to check on you and find out what you're up to, but he does not want the number of supporting casts to reduce.

"An absent parent?" He continues, ignoring the noises as he closes in on the boy. "Or was it someone that you worshipped? A false idol."

Try as he might, the boy fails to feign any indifference to him. A master of performance himself, Buggy knows when he's hit his target "That's it."

He yanks the dumb straw hat off his head, and the boy's protests against it further dig a nail into the coffin. "Give me back my hat!"

"I used to know a pirate that wore a hat just like this." Buggy's grip on the feeble thing drastically tightens as memories of the past resurface. "Red-Haired Shanks."

"You knew Shanks?"

"Ginger? Three scars, left eye?" Of course, how could he not know of the bastard? "We served together on a pirate crew when we were about your age. In fact," he glances at the boy from over his shoulder. "Your friend, Cross-Hairs over there, was with us at the time."

The kid blinks in confusion, clearly not aware of this little piece of information. "I knew she served with Shanks, but she never mentioned you."

In all honesty, it doesn't surprise him, yet he still perceives this as a slight against him from your side. The underlying hypocriticism in that doesn't evade his notice, but he elects not to address it. 

Buggy can feel the straws under his digits lightly crack beneath the pressure of his grip. "She did, but before then, it was the three of us. For a time, I even thought we were friends." His nail pierces a hole through the inside of the hat. "Until they betrayed me, like all the others. He wanted to keep me out of the spotlight! He wanted to keep my star from shining too brightly!"

"They wouldn't do that," Rubber Boy is quick to protest, rather vehemently too as if Buggy just insulted his entire lineage. "You don't know her, and you don't know Shanks. Don't talk about them that way."

"I bet I know her far better than you do, Rubber Boy." He smirks and raises a knowing eyebrow at the kid. "Does she still snatch specifically red apples off vendors when you're in town? Does she still tend to store her knives in her boots when she thinks no one's looking?"

The kid doesn't have to answer. His silence is all the confirmation he needs, and it makes him feel victorious in some sense. 

"Let me ask you something else, then. How'd the famous Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates get stuck with a simple-minded nobody like you? What did you do that was so special that she decided to stick around until now?" 

The damn brat doesn't answer.

He presses on. "Apparently, she made a promise to someone, and though I have a sneaking suspicion as to whom, I don't want to jump the gun." He grasps harshly at the kid's face, no longer smiling. "You know, and if you tell me, I might be convinced to lessen the restraints."

The damn brat still doesn't fucking answer, and it vexes him greatly. Even so, if there's one thing he's learned, it's that the kid's silence can be substituted for an answer.

So, he finally asks the billion-berry question: 

"Was it Shanks?"

Rubber Boy does not answer. He doesn't fucking answer, and Buggy's patience snaps like a twig.

You would be willing to go through all of this trouble, to keep the kid safe and help him achieve his dream, just because you made a silly promise to what was once your mutual friend. You would give up your career as one of the most successful pirates in the modern age, just for that?

Just for him?

Deep down, he feels something carve at him. Carve at the boyish version of him he left behind the same day he left you. Would you have been just as loyal to him as you were to Shanks, if only he stayed?

He does not voice these thoughts aloud. Instead, he can't help but beam, because everything he's theorized up until this point has just been verified. It aches, and it hurts, and it cuts, but even so, he can only smile down at the boy.

"Stretch him until he breaks." 

------

Although you hear a commotion coming from the stage room, and despite the urge you have to just break out and be done with this all, you deliberately remain in your cage. One leg pulled up to your chin whereas the other one rests uncomfortably on the stale ground boards, you do nothing more than let your temper simmer down.

Honestly, what a mess.

You made one thing perfectly clear to Shanks the day you agreed to disband your crew and keep watch on the boy. It had not even been a week after he returned to the docks of Fooshia Village, one arm short and the boy by his side.

------

"I am not his parent. I will not be held responsible for the mistakes he makes when he decided to leave land. I will only keep him alive until I decide he can do that himself; after he's earned his first bounty. After that, I'm off."

"And what will you do after?" he had asked, genuinely curious.

You didn't answer, because you didn't know.

"Look after the lad for me, will you? Help him achieve his dream." He had taken your shoulder under his warm remaining hand and said:

"Maybe one day, you'll find your own."

------

If you'd known that Luffy's dream would one day lead you back to him, you would've been more reluctant to make that promise. At the time, you had little interest in picking up the shattered pieces of your childhood dream, yet it seems that now it has decided to search you out instead.

Or rather, he has.

Your head hurts.

This is not the time for heartfelt reunions if there ever was one. Buggy has only one goal in mind, and that is to get his hands on that damn map. Harming Luffy will serve as a means to an end in achieving that, which happens to clash with your goal. You're not Luffy's parent, you tell yourself, but you're willing to extend the promise to Shanks just this once.

And so, after some careful deliberation, you make your escape. 

You hit the metal once, and it bends significantly. Then twice, and on the third strikes, they bend and crack, finally granting you access to direct contact with the ground. It's never felt so relieving to be earthbound, and you even go as far as to tap your feet a few times to enrich that feeling.

Having most likely heard the noise, two troupe members march through the curtains to see what's going on. The first one barely has the time to register your escape before you lunge. 

You're quick to subdue them, knocking the first one out with an easy choke-hold whereas the other mysteriously ends up with half his body stuck in what remains of your previous confinement. His ass hangs out in a rather humiliating position, but the point is, he's out of the way. 

The adrenaline is the one part of piracy you've missed. The surge of energy that flows through your veins, feeling the air brush your face as you make your move, the warmth in your heart that substitutes any pain or hurt you've ever felt if only for a moment.

You relish it.

You happen to find your weapons in the room, hidden in some crates. Your knives and your pistol, are both unscathed and fully functional, but you know that you'll end up relying on your hands for this. After all, it's personal, and personal matters are handled in a personal way. 

When you're certain the two troupe members are of no concern to you, you exit the back rooms and find yourself in the opening between the audience rows shortly after. The lights have been killed and there's an ominous silence stretching in the atmosphere.

You look up at the terrified audience, and though you're almost in clear view of them, none dares stray away from the view up ahead. 

Said view in question being of Luffy halfway submerged by seawater in a tank, already struggling to keep himself afloat. 

Fuck this. Fuck him.

You don't even stop to coordinate your next move as, as you would've done under ordinary circumstances. No, the moment you spot Buggy standing there, trying to reason with the kid with the promise of belonging and having a place on his crew, you lunge for the kill.

------

All Buggy sees just as you make your move is a flash of sharp eyes that seem to glow in the dim room. There's no word upon your entrance, no sound, not a single warning at all. A shriek resonates through the air, shattering the silence that had unknowingly settled over them, and it's his own. 

The air gets knocked out of his lungs as you shove your fist straight into his stomach. Ordinarily, that specific portion of his would've just straight up dislodged itself from his body, but it doesn't this time. He remains intact, a contradiction to what you had threatened to do, and he falls back several good feet on his back like a kicked dog.

A raspy groan is all the noise he manages to get out, heaving his chest in search of the air that was stolen from him. He throws one arm to the ground and gets his upper body up. 

When he finally manages to somewhat stabilize his line of sight, all he sees as the world remains blurred around him is you standing over him with a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. One he's already familiar with.

This is not his old friend or his old flame crew member. This is Cross-Hairs, the feared captain of the vicious Cross-Haired Pirates. The Beast of the East. The one whose aim never misses, and if it does, she'll hunt her target down to the ends of the earth.

And now, he's officially become your target. No longer a passive one at that, but the only one your eyes are set on. He doesn't know if he's content or unnerved by this.

There are no palpable emotions on your face, but he can read your eyes well enough to know that you're angry. No, angry doesn't even begin to cover it; you're absolutely, positively, completely pissed. 

"What?" He forces out, still aching from the punch to his abdomen. "Going to make good on your promise? Going to finally kill me after all this time? If so, then just get on with it!"

You don't answer, and he hates it even more than he would've had you responded. A part of him wants you to kill him; wants you to show that you care enough about him to just fucking do it.

No, instead, all you give him is a glare. That same glare that's never left your face since he first laid his eyes on you. You turn your full attention to the tank and, with one simple hit, you break the glass to try and free Rubber Boy. You free him, without even a moment to hesitate, and it feels so much more painful than if you’d just ended him on the spot.

He wants to scream. Buggy wants to scream until his lungs give in. Scream at your inability to fully look at him. Scream at your apparent concern for a boy who is no more a pirate than he is a banker. 

Scream, because even after all this time, you still refuse to choose him.

Never him.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 6 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): 2004 was not a good time for the gays. homophobia persists. insecurity about weight and insulting oneself about it.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 7

You dipped into your savings and got Regina a new, fancy moisturizer. You couldn't count on her using it instead of the lard, but well. Guide a horse to water, can't make it drink, and all that.

You didn't tell her about the Homecoming prank, though. She'd been pissed about that. Not for long, because then it turned into a sort of trend at Northshore and it only boosted her popularity.

You were perhaps more upset about it. Upset you'd let it happen, upset they'd done it in the first place, upset Regina stood there with Aaron. He didn't even look like he wanted to be there.

Regina managing to turn it around for her benefit didn't stop you from feeling bad. It was the principle of the thing. You'd taken some distance from her. Everybody, actually. People just didn't feel all that great to be around. You were betraying Regina by letting her be essentially bullied by Janis, you were tolerating Regina's abusive reign over the student body, Aaron was getting on your last nerve by simply existing, and your mom's death anniversary was coming up.

You went to the Georges' less. Regina came to yours when you didn't lie about having to catch up on homework or doing a project. You did do some yard work for them since you still needed the extra cash. Just basic things like raking leaves and doing small repairs here and there. You also covered the pool with Mrs George's help.

"Whew, I forget what a chore that is every year!" She wiped at her forehead. You laid on the grass, chest heaving. You'd carried maybe seventy per cent of that thing.

"You said it, Mrs George." You managed to get out.

"How many years have I been telling you to call me Jude. Or just mom." You looked up at her. She looked so much like Regina. Or Regina looked so much like her.

She'd known your mom. Cried harder at her funeral than your dad or even yourself. You hadn't really gotten it, at that point. She'd hugged you tight and told you what an amazing woman she was, that she hadn't deserved to go yet. She sent you food for weeks after, which you appreciated because dad was too busy sorting stuff out to cook for you.

She'd been more of a mom to you than your own had ever gotten to be. Still, it felt wrong to call her anything other than Mrs George. It was weird. Word association gone all wrong. Mom meant a casket being lowered into a hole on a bleak November day, an echoing house and an empty kitchen, sad and wistful things. Mrs George meant afternoons spent running around in the backyard, eating 'till your belly was full to bursting, happiness and summer.

"Many, many years." You groaned as you got up. "Is Reggie home?"

You figured it would be weird if you didn't go say hi, at least. You didn't want to cut her out entirely. It was just hard being around her when the weight of your own actions, and inactions, weighed on your shoulders.

She smiled in a way that told you she'd noticed your deflection. "In her room."

"Great. Oh, by the way, what did you do with the apples this year?"

"I convinced Rick to donate them to the women's shelter downtown. They'll be put to good use there."

"That's awesome," You put your hands to your hips and looked around. "Anything you want me to do?"

"I'll just hose down the rose bushes, you head on inside. Avoid the living room, Rick's on a conference call." She waved you off with a smile.

You trod through the house carefully, shoes in hand. You knew the Georges were a shoes-on household, but it just never felt right for you to walk on carpeted floors with your shoes on. What if you had stepped on dogshit? What then?

"Reg?" Her door was open a crack, so you peeked in. "You decent?"

"Yes, I'm decent." You could hear the eye roll in her voice. "What do you want?"

Yikes. She wasn't happy.

You walked in and closed the door behind you. She was on her bed, reading a book on her belly. She was snacking on some candy bar.

"I just came to say hi. I put the pool cover on with your mom." You walked up to her. "What're you reading?"

"I could hear you huffing and puffing all the way up here." She turned on her side to look at you. "The Catcher in the Rye. It's boring."

"I dunno, I liked it." You climbed in hesitantly. When she didn't protest, you settled down on your side facing her, head leaned against your palm.

"You've read it?" She tossed the book on the floor next to the bed, now giving you her full attention. "Can you write my paper?"

"Depends on how much you'll pay me." You grinned and rubbed your fingers together like you were handling cash.

"Boo, you whore." She pouted. "Aren't we supposed to be beyond that?"

"I don't do charity, my friend." You flopped onto your back and crossed your arms. Shit, she had a comfy bed. So soft but just firm enough, too. You let your eyes close. You were so tired from all that physical labour.

"Get off my bed, you traitor." You opened your eyes too late. She was already on you, pushing you, and you had no time to resist until you were toppling onto the floor. You clambered down in a mess of limbs and sheets, which you'd grabbed in your desperate attempt to stay aboard.

"Reg! Your bed is actually high up! Help me!" You felt like Mufasa clinging to the face of the cliff, fingers digging into the slippery bedding. One of your legs was still on the bed, but not securely enough that you would've been able to pull yourself to safety.

"Just put your leg on the floor, dumbass." She cackled, watching you panic over such a small drop.

"No, look, it's not that- close." You lowered your leg and your knee made contact with the floor. Regina fell back, gasping as she laughed. "Shut up, you teapot!"

"No! I'm not-" She tried to stifle the laughs escaping her, the real wheezing ones she didn't let out of their cage willingly, but one look at you set it off again. "Your hair!"

You lifted your hands to your head. "It's not my fault your sheets are fucking static."

By the time Mrs George came to inform you that she'd be starting on dinner, thus signifying you should probably go, Regina had stopped laughing, if just barely.

"Have you been using the moisturizer I gave you?" You tried to analyze her face. It didn't look any less flawless than usual.

"Yeah, it's really great. My old night lotion started smelling weird for some reason. Maybe it expired early or something." You just hummed in response.

"I should probably go home and make myself dinner too."

"I'll walk you down."

You walked down the stairs and to the backdoor, avoiding the living room despite the blaring of the TV. Mr George was definitely not on a call anymore.

"What're you making today?" Regina asked, standing somewhat awkwardly on the porch.

"Probably tacos. I found a great deal on some corn tortillas at the store. They're all going bad today, so. Gonna stuff myself."

"Save some for me, yeah?"

You weren't sure what she meant by that. "Sure."

You walked home and as you'd said, got started on dinner. Moving around the kitchen without Regina there in the way, chopping whatever vegetables into misshapen cubes, felt weird. She wasn't over that often, but you'd gotten used to it regardless.

It was perhaps your biggest flaw as a person, how intolerant you were to being alone. Ironic, considering how much time you had to spend alone.

If it was up to you, you would've made Birria tacos with a good cut of sirloin, but you didn't have the money for fresh cuts of beef. Besides, you hadn't even started on the stew, and that took a whole day. So, you settled on some basic ground beef filling. You had made Pico de Gallo earlier that day, so it was nice and flavourful by the time you were constructing your tacos.

Back when you'd still needed a babysitter, there had been this one Mexican lady who appeared on the roster most often. It was so long ago you couldn't remember her name. She'd made you call her Abuela. She was sweet and taught you the wonder of Latin American cuisine. From what you could understand, she'd been well-travelled and really loved food everywhere.

She stopped coming when all of your babysitters did. The last time you saw her, you hadn't known it would be the last time.

This time of year really made you a monster. A dull grey, depressing monster. You'd have to find some exciting hobby because even you were getting sick of this. Maybe cliff jumping?

A knock on your door was the last thing you expected when you were finally ready to chow down. Making such a huge amount of food took time.

"What?" You barked to whoever dared to disturb you. "Oh, shit."

"Is that how you greet all your dinner guests?" Regina asked, batting her eyelashes. She had on a deep red dress, shiny satin that licked at the curves and edges of her body just right. It reached all the way to her feet, where you could see black heels peeking out from under the hem. She stood taller than usual, but still so short you could see above her head. The dress was strapless as far as you could tell as her jacket was covering her shoulders. Sweetheart neckline and a clutch to match. She had a thin gold chain around her neck with a small R-charm on it. Gold hoop earrings, hair done up in curls.

A grin crept up onto her face as you continued to gape at her visage. "I know, right?" She posed, one hand holding the clutch at level with her thigh and one poised at her waist. "I'm so sexy."

"Yeah, uh, yes, you are." You stuttered, stunned and flustered. You wanted to touch her, feel the fabric of the dress with the tips of your fingers, grab a hold of her and press close to her. She looked so fucking good.

"Thanks, baby." She took a couple of steps forward to reach you and, nonchalant as could be, brushed her hand at your shoulder as if she were brushing off dust.

Your knees wobbled.

"I have dinner for us." You blurted out. "I, uh..." You needed to pull it together. "I'm gonna go change."

"You do that," Regina said with an indulgent smile. You shot up the stairs.

When you came back down, still tucking your shirt into your trousers and tie undone, Regina was sitting on the couch perusing a magazine. It was probably from last year or something, you didn't exactly update the stuff under the coffee table.

You coughed to get her attention. "Ready for dinner, Reggie?"

"Ugh, don't ruin the moment. Anything other than that."

"I'm Jorts and you're Reggie, that's how it's been." You reminded and gently plucked her clutch from her hands before gesturing for her to turn around. She did, looking a little confused. When you reached to take her jacket off, she recoiled.

"Um, I would like to keep it on." She said, the confidence from before diminishing.

"Oh, why?" You asked. "Are you cold?"

"No, it's just, um..." Regina George stammering. You didn't think you'd live to see the day. "I don't look like I used to before."

"What does that mean?" You checked her out, toes to forehead. Drop-dead gorgeous as always.

"I've gained a bunch of weight." She looked down as if she needed to be ashamed. "I barely fit into this gown. I had to suck in even with the Spanx. And I still look like a whale."

As much as you would've liked to be incredulous and loud about just how wrong she was, it didn't seem like the right course of action. She was being open and vulnerable with you.

"I don't think you look like a whale." You stepped close to her tentatively. You set the clutch on the coffee table. Then, just as tentatively, circled your arms around her. You slotted your fingers together at her lower back and pulled her to you so that your bellies touched.

"I couldn't hug a whale." You pointed out helpfully, leaning back slightly to still look her in the eyes. "I'd love to see the dress in its full glory."

Regina, hands fussing with unmade your tie, bit her lip in contemplation.

"Careful, don't mess up your lipstick." She rubbed her lips together at that, a smile threatening to break out.

"Fine. But you can't laugh or stare or anything."

"I swear." You put one hand on your heart and the other up. "Now turn around."

She did as you asked. "You're being awfully chivalrous."

"It's what you deserve, Reggie." You crooned jokingly, pulling the jacket from her shoulders. The dress was cut elegantly so that there were no straps, but bits of fabric hanging by her upper arms. Cold-shoulder. You hoped the jokes in your tone hid how nervous you were.

"What did I just say?" As if that little moment between you two hadn't even happened, she was right back to her normal self.

"Fine. But you'll always be my Reggie. I guess tonight we can pretend." You sighed. "Whatever you say, honey."

"Better." She turned and tugged at your tie. "Now, let's get you sorted."

"I had very little notice, okay?" You grumbled but bent down obediently so she'd have an easier time tying your tie. You'd used to play dress up mixed with house all the time. You'd nearly always been the dad and so, you had to wear a tie. Obviously. Mrs George had gotten tired of constantly being asked to do it, so she'd taught Regina.

Now, it felt a little different. For one, you were taller. Secondly, this wasn't a children's game. Maybe you were playing a little bit, pretending, but it didn't quite feel like that. There was something undeniably real about this.

"There." She said once she was finished, smoothing it out against your chest. "You couldn't find one matching the dress?"

"You're impossible to please." You chuckled. "I'll make sure to go tie shopping as soon as possible."

"Good." She liked to ignore your sardonic tone pretty often. "Now, what's on the menu?"

You tucked the rest of the shirt into your pants and, voila, you were done.

"Tacos, my lady." You offered up your arm half in jest. She hooked her wrist into the bend of your elbow with an incline of her head. Clearly, she was a girl that liked to be wined and dined.

You snuck a bottle from your dad's wine collection, hoping it wasn't some speciality. Looking at the label, it wasn't very old. Wine quality was assessed like that, right?

You ate your fills and then some, drinking wine all the while, then retreated to the couch to recover, and turned on the TV to watch while eating dessert. Sharing a pint of ice cream, curled up on the couch in fancy clothes, warm and away from the cold of late November, you wondered what had brought this on.

It wasn't an official date, that much you knew. Regina wasn't a lesbian like you. Maybe she was indulging you. That would mean she knew you had a crush on her. You hoped that wasn't true. Regina was an observant person, though. Fuck, that'd be humiliating.

It didn't feel like she was playing with you. It looked like she was having as much fun as you. Maybe she wanted to have a nice, romantic dinner without the pressure of having to impress or perform for her date.

It was nice she'd chosen you. Regardless of why she'd come here tonight, you were just glad she was with you. You'd had a lot of people leave, most of them never coming back. The exceptions to the rule were Regina and your dad. They were similar in that, but nothing else. When dad came back, he brought with him a never-pleased frown and a stifling presence. When Regina came back, she brought light.

She had her flaws. You had yours. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and Christmas would soon follow. You had no doubt that Janis had something nefarious planned for at least one of those events. Nothing was sure, things were undecided.

"I'm going for a smoke." You said when the episode ended.

"I'm coming with."

"You won't be getting one."

"I don't want it anyway. Cigarettes taste like shit."

You laughed and walked to the backdoor. Through it and onto the patio, you slumped onto the bench swing. Regina followed a lot more gracefully, heels chucked somewhere in the house, bundled up in the blanket she'd claimed as hers since the first time she slept over. She sat next to you and spread it over both your laps. You hummed in thanks and lit up.

Regina might've been a massive bitch. She had, and there was no denying it, done some awful things. And maybe it was fucked up for you to like one part of a person and not the whole of them, but did that count if you were sure that the undesirable part was all a facade?

"So..." You started. "Better than any of the dates Aaron took you to?" You couldn't help but ask. Veiled under a joke, you hoped your jealousy didn't show.

"Don't be cocky." She admonished, resembling her mom almost creepily. "He didn't really take me out."

"What? Why?" If you could openly date Regina there wouldn't be a limit to how much you'd be taking her out, showing her off to anybody who'd listen.

"How should I know?" She shrugged indignantly. "We broke up a little after Homecoming."

"What? I didn't hear about this."

"Really? I thought you would've since it was pretty big news for a while." You didn't want to admit you'd been purposefully avoiding rumours about the couple for the majority of their relationship. "He outlived his purpose."

"The Halloween Party and Homecoming." You clarified and she nodded.

You took a drag. Regina pulled what seemed like a candy bar out of her clutch. It was the same brand she'd been eating earlier today.

Considering she'd been insecure about her weight, you didn't comment on it. You took another drag. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something weird.

"Hey, can I look at the packaging of that?"

Wordlessly, Regina handed it over. You looked at the product info. Great, it was all in Swedish.

"Where'd you get these?"

"Cady got me a box of them. They're good for weight loss. Like, they just burn all your carbs." You furrowed your eyebrows and looked back at the product info. The numbers didn't seem like that of a weight loss product.

You didn't like she was eating something that would empty her stomach right after dinner. That couldn't have been healthy.

"You're trusting something Cady gave to you?"

She tilted her head, as if about to question you. Her mouth opened, then closed, and opened again.

"Shut up. Shut up."

You took a long drag.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared

(i keep forgetting to add this note. comment on this post if you want on the taglist!)

[melanieph321]

Kenan Yilidiz x Reader - Thick Part 5/8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A chock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.

Enjoy!

"So, what's going on with you and Kenan?" Maria asked, on your weekly drive to school.

"Pardon?"

"Oh please, Y/N. Don't lie. We all know that the two of you are hooking up."

Your driving has improved. After two months of consistent driving lessons with your friends, you were finally getting a hang of the rhythm of traffic. Although, you had to admit that your progress all came down to one driver.

"What do you mean, who told you that?" You said, in a desperate attempt to maintain your honor.

"It's pretty obvious." Maria chuckled. "The two of you are always flirting across the table during lunch hour and the fact that Kenan drives you home everyday kind of gives it away, don't you think?"

"Okay, but what about you and Gio?" You blurred out, as immense heat burned your cheeks.

"What about us?" Maria laughed.

"Well, aren't you two hooking up?" 

"Yes, but the difference is that the two of us aren't trying to hide it from the world. Why would you? Kenan is a great guy and seems to like you a lot."

"I know." You sighed as if it were a bad thing. "It's just that I don't think we'd make a good couple. I need someone more intuned with life, someone intellectual and cool. Someone who thinks with his brain and not with his dick. Someone like...."

"Luca?"

You turned to Maria as the car pulled up to a stop sign. "How did you know?"

She grinned. "Again, you make it quite obvious."

"Oh. I guess I have to work on that."

"Yeah. Besides, isn't Luca dating that redhead from the record store downtown?"

"They're just hooking up." You said, having investigated the matter futher ever since you discovered their love dispute. It was therefore important for you not to get too attached to Kenan, that is, if Luca ever decided to come back to earth again and realize that the perfect girl for him was already right by his side.

"I dunno, they seem pretty serious. Luca even asked if she could come with us to Bari this summer."

"He what?"

"Crazy, I know. I said it was cool, but of course Rebecca had to go on about the seating in the car, how there wasn't room for more people in the one we have. It's funny really..."

"What is?"

"Well, it really depends on you if she comes with us or not. If you manage to pass your driver's test there'll be more seats." She laughed. However you didn't find it funny at all.

School that day went by in a flash. Apparently, Luca called in sick today so that he and his band could travel to Milano and meet with a record label. The thoughts of his "girlfriend" traveling with him angered you, completely ruining your day.

".....and then he shot the bear in the face which left his jaw hanging out from its head. It was the craziest shit I've ever seen."

Kenan drove you home again after school. He had Gio on speaker as the two of them wouldn't stop going on and on about a movie that they saw last night. 

"Thanks for the ride." You muttered, when his car pulled up to your house. 

"Y/N, wait!" You made it up the driveway when Kenan came running after you, carrying something in his hand. "I forgot to give you this." He handed you what looked to be a football jersey, a Juventus jersey to be exact.

"Erm....thank you?" You held up the shirt, regarding it skeptically. The number 15 was visible on the back of it. Along with Kenan's last name Yildiz.

"It's for the charity game tomorrow. I thought you'd want to wear it."

"Why would I want to do that?" You snorted but instantly regretted doing so, seeing how Kenan's expression faltered.

"I dunno?" He scratched the back of his head. "I guess it's a thing that players' girlfriends wear their jerseys. Who knows? it might bring me good luck."

"Kenan, it's a charity game." Which you now regretted going to. However, all of your friends were going, including Luca.

"I know." He chuckled. "But you should keep it, for future games."

You sighed. "I'm not your girlfriend Kenan, I thought we went over this?"

He looked like he wanted to protest. Poor thing. But just then the front door to your house came ajar, with your dad stepping out onto the porch. "Y/N, honey, is that you?"

You turned around, quite stunned to see him home this early in the day. "Dad? You're home."

"Yes, and so is your mother. We've been expecting your arrival. I was unaware that you were bringing along a friend." His eyes shot towards Kenan, who crumbled at the sight of your dad, a man three heads taller than himself. "Erm....Mr Y/L/N." He stuttered. At least he hadn't forgotten his manners.

"Yes, that's me." Your dad spoke in a voice intimidating for anyone who didn't know him.

"I was just dropping her off." Kenan turned to you, eyeing the jersey in your hands. "But I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you." 

You watched Kenan walk back to his car and drive off.

"Is he a friend of yours?" Your dad asked, shutting the door behind you.

"Yeah, something like that."

 *********************************

The next day, you waited until the last minute to decide whether you were going to the game or not. If you failed to show up, you'd be a shitty friend. But if you did show up, you were basically agreeing to be Kenan's girlfriend. Something that you weren't ready to do. At least not yet.

"I heard that Luca is bringing that girl who dresses like a homeless person." Rebecca said. She came over to your house, not minding if you chose to attend the game or not. She was good either way.

"I figured." You sighed. "They've been dating for a while."

Rebecca sat up in bed. She regarded you, lying on your back, eyes glued to the sealing. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, everyone knows that you like Luca."

"Not Kenan."

"Kenan?" She frowned.

You pushed up to rest on your elbows, nodding your head. "He asked me to be his girlfriend and that I'd go to the game wearing his jersey."

Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand, smothering her laughter.

"It's not funny."

"Y/N, what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know." You cried. "I really don't know."

"I say we go."

"Huh?"

Rebecca nodded her head. "Don't you see? Imagine if you turned up to the game wearing Kenan's Jersey. Who knows, Luca might get jealous?"

"You think so?"

"We won't know unless we go. Come on!"

It was stupid of Rebecca to let you practice your driving during a time like this. Your fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel. Apparently, the entire city had decided to hit the roads at the same time as you. You glanced at the watch on the dash, your anxiety growing with each passing minute. As you finally reached the stadium. The scoreboard read 2-0, and the crowd was already cheering. You missed the first half of the game.

"There's Gio and Maria!" Rebecca pointed out. And as you climbed up the stands to join them, their grins winded at the sight of you, wearing Kenan's jerseys.

"Whoever speaks loses their tongue." You said, to which Gio and Maria sealed their mouths with an ironic gesture. You then settled in to watch the second half, scanning the crowd, in search for.....

"Luca couldn't make it." Maria said. "His band was scheduled for a second meeting with the record label in Milano."

You turned to Rebecca.

"I swear I had no idea."

"For fucks sake." Why did you ever leave your house, you thought, on the verge of throwing a tantrum. But then a whistle blew and the players on the field started running across it again.

"There goes Kenan!" Gio said, cheering for his friend.

You scanned the field for Kenan's familiar number 15 jersey. You spotted him on the field, his face set in determination, eyeing his opponents. A fire lit within you, watching him. He looked so focused, so masculine. Like someone intellectual and cool. Someone intuned with life.

The game was over before you knew it, nevertheless, you hadn't paid attention to any of it. 

Kenan was seen jogging towards you, a mix of relief and excitement on his face. "You made it and you're wearing my jersey."

A flush of heat rose to your cheeks. "I....I guess I did, and I guess I am."

Kenan's expression softened, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you towards him. The last thing you heard before he kissed you was Gio and Maria's astonished gasps and Rebecca smothering her sounds of disgust. However, none of it mattered. The way he kissed you did. Kenan pressed his lips against you as if it was the first time. He was gentle yet eager, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. He kissed you to the sound of a crowd cheering him on. He kissed like you were the one, the only girl for him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[howdeepthegrave]

Completed Agathario stories + one Agathario series I've written that I actually almost feel a little pride over. Maybe you'll like them.

Leave a Little Light On: Post-show fix-it two-point (episode 4 and episode 8) canon divergence. Agatha and Rio overstepped some mutual boundaries on the Witches' Road. That act leads to familiar consequences with some possibly dangerous repercussions. Why I think it's a good 'un: Just pleased with the arcs I gave everyone.

The Time We Have Remaining: Four story series starting as canon divergence from just after episode 5 of Wandavision. Agatha cons Wanda into bringing Nicky to the Hex... But she doesn't expect Rio to be along for the ride. Why I think it's a good 'un: I got to spin a few things in new ways, got to do my own take on Wanda as part of the coven on the Witches' Road, played with the duality of Wanda as herself and as the Scarlet Witch, and the last story got a bunch of people into shipping Lenda (Lenny Busker×Wanda Maximoff) and that amuseth me greatly.

How I Cry: aka Cuddle Buddies. Trauma and mental illness have left Rio Vidal isolated from much of the world, hardly able to bring herself to leave her home even to spend time with her small friend circle. A suggestion from her therapist leads her to explore an online world of isolated and touch-starved people looking for others to spend time with. This, in turn, leads her to Agatha Harkness, a fellow sufferer of severe social isolation with a history of trauma. Rio and Agatha connect almost instantly, but what begins as a way for both of them to simply feel less alone slowly blossoms into something more. Why I think it's a good 'un: I put a lot of my own personal mental health issues into this one, and some people apparently felt genuinely seen and comforted by how I handled things.

Working On It: A goofy one-shot based on this post of mine in which social media influencers Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal navigate keeping their relationship a secret from their respective followings (for various reasons.) Why I think it's a good 'un: I am inordinately proud of the usernames I made up.

We Carry On: The requisite rock band AU. In the mid 2000s and early 2010s, Coven True were a band on the rise. Then, a series of health issues, personal tragedies, and interpersonal disputes brought an end to the music. Over a decade after the band broke up, former Coven True frontwoman Agatha Harkness has built a successful solo career and settled in to raising Tommy and Billy, the sons of her deceased bandmate Wanda Maximoff. When her agent Lilia Calderu approaches Agatha about the possibility of getting the band back together for a reunion album and tour, the offer is almost tempting. Almost. Agatha might even go for it, if it would not mean having to deal with the person she has shut out of her life the most seriously: her ex-wife, Rio Vidal. Why I think it's a good 'un: I wrote an Agatha and Rio who, when they get past some of their background issues, manage to communicate with each other openly. Also the family dynamic between Agatha, Rio, Tommy, and Billy is fun, I think.

[brian-in-finance]

A Tale of Two Tonys

and Brian knows the difference 😉

Part One of Four

It was suggested elsewhere in July* Brian confuses the Tonys’ roles. Brian’s own posts say otherwise. 🙃 (*Waited for today’s Happy Birthday 🥳)

Tony the band manager ⬇️

Band manager Tony McGill with Caitríona Balfe, his wife, in London England, 29 November 2023 (Image: Dave Benett/Wirelmage)

Tony the music producer ⬇️

Music producer Tony Hoffer with Joanna Sims, his wife, in Lyon France, July 2024 (Image: Instagram)

Here are some examples that dispute Brian confuses the Tonys’ roles. (Try to laugh with me. 😉)

Five posts, one theme

1.

Screenshot from Brian 27 March 2021

2.

• • •

Screenshots from Brian 30 April 2021

3.

The actress and her Scottish music producer husband tied the knot in August 2019, at St. Mary's Church in Bruton, Somerset, in the U.K. Much like their pregnancy news, the couple was discreet with their intimate nuptials.

• • •

Screenshots from Brian 18 August 2021

4.

• • •

Screenshots from Brian 6 March 2023

5.

• • •

Screenshots from Brian 8 March 2023

Remember… he’s not a music producer, by the way. I just have to do this... He really hates this because he manages bands. He's in artist management. One person wrote it and now everybody does. — Caitríona Balfe

Later edit: “Waited for today’s Happy Birthday” in the first paragraph should say “yesterday’s.” The birthday is 12 October. I got busy, posted late, and forgot to update. Oops… (This bit won’t show up on reblogs posted before 19 October 2024.)