#<- just in case tis not that bad but i don't wanna bother anyone :)

[mysunshine-youremoonlight]

uuu college talk...

[anxious-witch]

On Charles, Edwin and Crystal's relationship with violence and how it does(and doesn't) solve their peoblems, and the inherit privledge of considering non-violence can always be the answer.

Before I get to it, sorry I cannot for the life of me find the post that talked about DBDA's relationship to violence aka that it shows that there is always a better solution and how most of the problems are solved through other means. It is a really good post, so if anyone knows it, please send me the link so I can put it here.

Anyway. What I wanted to say is that while yes, I partially agree, I don't think that's quite correct. Or not always. The series definitely makes a point of saying that things should be solved by other means whenever possible, but I think we see 3 instances where that isn't true. The first meeting with The Night Nurse and Charles, Crystal meeting David in the woods, and in part, Charles getting Edwin out of Hell.

Before I get to breaking down how each one was necessary, I think what kind of bothers me is the reaction Edwin and Crystal have to Charles attacking the Night Nurse. Not so much the inital reaction because I understand that they both have trauma connected to violence, but them insisting his reaction was extreme slightly...irks me?

I understand it from Crystal-she had a lot on her plate in the past few weeks and she just got out of abusive rs. Not to mention, she doesn't know Charles and Edwin for that long. But Edwin? My god did I wanna shake him.

Like, don't get me wrong, I love Edwin to death and the fact that he is flawed is part of that but I wish it was acknowledged that his disregard for self defense and to be able to not only refuse violence, but in many cases when Charles steps in to protect him to not even move aside because he knows Charles is there for what it is-a privledge. The fact that he never had ti physically defend himself ever since he got out of Hell is a privledge because Charles does it. And to no small personal cost. I don't think Charles likes to be violent. He doesn't revel in it, and we actually see him break down several times over thinking he is a bad person because he uses violence to defend himself and his friends.

Does he sometimes use it impulsively? Yes, as seen in the episode with the Devlins'. And he pays dearly for hi error, being stuck in a loop that's directly related to his own trauma.

But in some situations, there was no other answer. The Night Nurse would have made him and Edwin relieve their trauma until they gave in. Crystal couldn't help and in that moment, neither could Niko. Charles' violence gave them more time, which gave Edwin and then Niko, more time to think of a peaceful solution. Of a bargain. But it would not have been possible without Charles kicking her off the cliff.

For the scene with David in the woods-yeah, sure he didn't solve the whole problem of David altogether, but he did A) male him fuck off for the forseeable future and B) helped Crystal feel safer due to the fact he defended her when she was powerless. With the violence, he gives her time to gain her powers back, to come and resolve it directly when she feels safe and confident enough to do so.

We see it once again when he goes to save Edwin in Hell. Yes, they get out of Hell by running, but when Charles initally suggests it, Edwin is terrified. "If I run it chases me," he says and he doesn't move. So what does Charles do? He throws a bomb at the Dollhead Spider. Which once again, gives them time to run and escape and perhaps more importantly makes Edwin feel safe.

Violence is considered bad for a reason. But I think who and why someone uses violence is very important. A bully throwing a hit for fun and a victim throwing one back to defend themselves aren't the same. They cannot be the same. And bullies, no matter the form they take, sometimes only understand violence.

I am not saying go ahead and kill someone for bullying you. But I am saying that sometimes, the teachers don't listen until you throw a punch back. Problems should always be tried to solved peacefully, but if you think every problem can be solved non-violently, I think you had the privledge to never have to do so.

Charles takes on the burden of being a protector, of using violence as means of protection and I really hope that's acknowledged at some point. Because while yes, Edwin obviously has his own talents, Charles does his job at a great personal cost. And sometimes, while violence cannot solve the root of the problem, it can give you more time and space to get to the root. And that's okay, as long as you don't lose sight of why are you using measures you are using.

[dreamerdoesthewritething]

[Did anyone ask for Part 3, aka the sequel to this and this? No? Too bad, you're getting it, anyway.]

Leon has been staying with you for over a week now. It's nice having your best friend in your life every day again, nicer than you thought it would be. This isn't the first time he's lived with you. After his family was killed, your parents brought him home, where he stayed until he decided he wanted to go back to his house. He was a teen when he made that choice. Your parents had managed to gain ownership of the Kennedy house for that exact reason.

He had moved out of that house a couple of years ago, selling it with the help of your father so he could live somewhere smaller with less horrible memories. Turned out his nightmares were worse in the place where the murders happened than anywhere else. Made sense, but he didn't think about that when he chose to return. He wanted his own place, a kind of teenage dream. What teen didn't want a house free from rules? But it didn't work out in that nightmare colonial. He traded it for a little townhouse and put the rest of the money in savings for future use.

That townhouse was his new home, the only one for him...until now, when he found he couldn't go back.

You had returned to work just yesterday. Coworkers offered their condolences, having heard you suffered a terrible loss which led you to take a leave of absence for a month. Some asked who it was. They had their reasons. Prayers, curiosity, sympathy, etc. You managed to get away with, "I don't wanna talk about it," for now, but you had a feeling it wouldn't work for much longer.

The thing is...Leon asked you to keep him a secret. He doesn't want anyone to know he's around. Even if that means everyone still thinks he's dead, he has to remain hidden. It's quite the paranoid request, but he wouldn't make it for no reason. You made this promise. You intend to keep it, no matter what.

Your parents have stopped by once during this week to check up on you. Leon hid in the guest bedroom. That's where he stayed whenever you weren't home. Hell, sometimes he'd be there even when you were, just in case. Can't be seen, or at least has to try to be seen by as few people as possible.

His behavior was like a fugitive, a man on the run. But he's a cop. He committed zero crimes. It's his job to arrest the criminals, not be a criminal himself. You try to imagine Leon doing anything illegal. The worst you can see him doing is shoplifting a candy bar from a gas station, and even then only because he was holding it and forgot he hadn't paid for it yet.

So what is he hiding from?

Maybe it's the press. Surely everyone would want to know how he managed to escape from Raccoon City as one of a handful of survivors of both the viral outbreak and the nuke. He didn't need that shit. Not now, not ever. It reminds you of when reporters kept trying to bother him after the murders of his family. Your mother and father shielded him from that as best they could, eloquently but firmly telling the journalists to fuck off. Leon was a little boy, not a news story. He always told your parents how thankful he was for how much they took care of him then.

Now it's your turn to do the same.

You're unlocking your front door, coming back from work at the end of the day. You feel something hard press against your back as a hand suddenly covers your mouth to muffle any sound you might make. Struggling is instantly impossible. Someone else finishes opening the door and you're forced inside.

Next thing you know, you're tied up on the floor. There's strangers in your house with guns. You're still reeling from being assaulted in the first place, so the shock and fear of your situation hasn't quite caught up to you yet.

"Where's Leon?" one of the armed men demands.

"Leon? Who--?"

"Don't even think about it," the man growls, getting up in your face. "You know exactly who the fuck Leon is. We wouldn't be wasting our time with the likes of you if we didn't know that."

Your brow furrows. "I was gonna ask who the fuck you are, for your information. I'm not so fucking stupid as to try to play dumb with dickheads who attack me in my own goddamn home."

The man backs off, but not enough for you to feel even a little more comfortable. The fear still hasn't taken hold. You press on. "Now, I don't give two shits who or what you work for, but as an American, I have rights! Rights that have been violated the moment you put your damn hands on me! If you think this won't come back to bite you--"

"Your rights don't matter in this," the man says. The look in his eyes has you shutting up, because it's clear if you keep talking, he will hit you and he will take great pleasure in doing it. "Look, princess, I'll make it real simple for you. We need Leon. You tell us what we wanna know, we get outta your hair, and it'll be like this never happened. You get that? Cuz trust me, I don't wanna be here any more than you want us."

"What are you going to--?"

"None of your damn business."

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to be strong. This man is intimidating, but he's talking about your best friend. He's with other men and they're all armed and they want your best friend. If this guy knows anything about you, he should know you won't put Leon in danger just to save yourself. You'd never.

"Just kill me. I ain't telling you shit," you say.

It doesn't have the impact you want since your voice is shaking and you can feel tears stinging your eyes, but it's the truth. You won't talk. You won't give up Leon to them. They've disrespected you, threatened you. They're hunting Leon for some reason. You don't need to know the reason, you decide. You can die without knowing, as long as it means Leon is safe.

Before the scene can escalate, your hero swoops in for the rescue, bypassing all the other armed men to put himself between you and your immediate threat. You wish he hadn't. Now they'll take him away from you to do...whatever it is they wanted with him. If he just took this opportunity to escape...

"Mr. Kennedy," the man says. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

"Yeah, I know," Leon says in a tight voice. "But that's on me, not her. She's got nothing to do with this, alright? Leave her alone."

"You brought her into this. What have you told her?"

"Not a goddamn thing! She's just given me somewhere to stay! That's it! She doesn't know anything!"

It's true. He hasn't told you anything about Raccoon City or the month he was gone after that. He was protecting you by keeping that to himself. Now he's protecting you again. The desperation cuts right through to your heart. Just who are these guys that they've got Leon Scott Kennedy so scared for you?

"Even if I believe you, which is a fucking huge if...I have my orders. We're to take both of you in for questioning." The man shakes his head as the other guys grab Leon and pick you off the ground. "This wouldn't have had to happen if you'd just stayed on base, Kennedy. You have no one to blame but yourself."

You're pushed into an unmarked but clearly military vehicle, still tied up with an armed man on either side of you. Leon is likewise sandwiched in the seat across from yours, facing you. The leader of the squad and another guy take the front and passenger seats. Then you're off to...who knows where?

Leon is seething as he looks at you. It's not because of you, but rather what you've been subjected to by these people. The men are unbothered by his glare. They don't care about his feelings or yours. They'd rather not be here, anyway.

"Why?"

He's speaking through gritted teeth in a dangerous tone you haven't heard before. All the other people in the vehicle look at him.

"Why is she still restrained?" Leon demands. "There's no goddamn reason for it. We're literally fucking trapped in here with you. Untie her. Now."

Despite the odds being very much against him, Leon's unspoken threat is not ignored. The men at your sides undo the bindings around your arms, finally setting you free. Your arms are stiff and sore, but you'll get over it. Well, if you make it out of whatever this is alive you will.

Without warning or care about potential consequences, Leon takes your hands in his. His stare is still so intense.

"Did they hurt you?"

You shake your head. You don't want to talk, not after everything that's just happened, not with these strangers around. Besides, you get the feeling you're going to be doing a lot of talking in the near future, whether you want to or not. His hands give yours a reassuring squeeze and doesn't let go.

"I won't let them do anything to you, I swear."

It's a little late for that, you think. You suppose he simply forgot the word "else" after "anything" since he didn't see how these guys introduced themselves to you. He's also forgetting they have weapons while he doesn't. He's hardly in any position to be making promises to protect you or even himself.

You're both so fucked and the worst part is you have no idea why.

-_-_-_-_

You face hours and hours of questioning from government men, stuck in a tiny humid room with a single bottle of water and no food. They won't even let you out to use the restroom, forcing you to hold your bladder. They want to know anything and everything Leon has told you since he showed up at your doorstep. You tell them over and over. Your story never changes. It's never good enough, though.

What are you supposed to do when they refuse to listen to the truth?

You're tired. You have to piss more than you ever have in your life. You don't even know where these government agents have taken you. Any patience you had before is gone. Your tongue hurts from all the biting you've done to keep from crying. They don't deserve to see your tears. They're not worthy of that victory. You just want to go home. Why won't they let you?

You can't take it anymore. And you just scream. A guttural, screeching sound with no words. All your stress vocalized in one long, distressing noise. Your captors don't know how to react to this, so they just yell at you. Threaten you with physical harm if you don't stop. They're already harming you by keeping you here.

The shrieking is the last straw. Other people come rushing into the room, chewing out your captors for holding you in this shithole for so long. One of them, a woman, ushers you out to the nearest restroom, apologizing for not intervening sooner. She assures you that you'll be free to go and will be compensated for this. Ah, hush money. At least that's what it sounds like.

What about Leon?

She can't say. Or won't say. It's not her place. She isn't allowed. Another secret. You feel sick. You want to go home, but you don't want to go without knowing he's okay.

What she can tell you is they're not going to hurt him. He's a valuable asset to America in a new war and they're not about to do anything that might cost them his loyalty. You're pretty sure they already crossed that line when those men held you captive in your own home, but you keep that to yourself.

After your much-needed potty break, you're escorted into a much nicer room with air conditioning. You're provided with food and drink while they arrange for someone to take you back home. Should you be concerned about possible drugs in this stuff? Eh, fuck it. Hunger and thirst overrule paranoia right now.

When your way home is ready, Leon is there with your escort. Stoic, but his eyes burn with a harsh blue flame. If he could burn this place to the ground, that'd be the ignition. Some of that rage seeps into his expression when he looks at you. The redness around your eyes and your sniffling give it all away. They made you suffer. They made you suffer, because of him.

It's just you, Leon, and the driver. The car they're using is expensive, but it's also a boring black government-typical vehicle. You and Leon climb in the backseat. You haven't said a word to each other since your reunion. Frankly, you're done talking for the day if you can help it. You don't feel safe to do so, anyway. This car is probably wired to record anything and everything you do.

You're so, so tired. You can't keep your head up or your eyes open anymore. You fall over until your head meets Leon's shoulder, using it as a pillow. He lets you. You deserve this rest. You deserve so much. You deserve so much more than to have a friend like him, a friend who shows up when you're grieving his alleged death and pulls you into such a mess.

He doesn't bother waking you when the car pulls up to the house. Instead, he picks you up and carries you inside, laying your sleeping form on top of your bed. He takes off your shoes, then tucks you in more properly. It can't be comfortable sleeping in your work clothes, but he's not about to strip you or change your clothes while you're unconscious. Not without consent. You've been violated enough today...More than enough...Way, way more than enough.

Now that you're back where you belong, the weight of today starts taking its toll on Leon. He can't rest yet, however. He knows your home has been messed with and he'll be damned if he lets them keep their bugs and wiretaps and shit just because he's here. They know that. He told them as much when they confronted him for running away from the training camp. They've already forced his hand. They already used Sherry's safety against him. They're not getting to use his best friend, too.

Minding your peace, he scours every itch and crevice of your house for their devices, tearing the electronics out and stomping them under the heels of his boots. He checks everywhere twice, then a third time, just to be sure. It all ends up in a trashcan, which he tosses outside until he can dispose of this shit more permanently. It's the least he can do.

He returns to your room, taking a seat on the corner of the bed and looking at you. You're restless in your slumber. It's to be expected, he supposes. He lets out the heaviest sigh, closing his eyes. You shouldn't have had to go through any of the things those assholes put your through. He shouldn't have put you in this position. What kind of friend is he?

And when he thinks about that month...

He was beginning the training the government "asked" him to join, a task force for fighting B.O.W.s and other miscellaneous issues. Any connections to the rest of the world were prohibited. They wanted him to themselves, believing he had no one. He let them believe that, just like they let everyone who ever cared about him believe he perished with Raccoon City.

They let you believe he died.

A month of mourning.

For him, too.

He had to come to grips with the incident on his own. So many people met once and lost shortly thereafter. People he never got the chance to meet until after they were no longer human. The mysterious woman in red whose fate he wasn't sure of. Zombies. Monsters. Death. So much death. More than he ever thought he'd see in his lifetime.

You didn't have to see any of it. You didn't need to. You always had an active imagination. What horrible images had you tormented yourself with when you thought he was dead? How much did you cry for him? How many nights did you lose sleep? Just how did you grieve for him, the little boy you comforted during the worst times of his life turned into a man you thought became nothing but ash?

Just thinking about it churned his stomach. Neither of you asked for this. Neither of you wanted any of this. Neither of you deserved what you've been through since he decided to join the RPD.

Your eyelids flutter, then open halfway. He can't stop himself from gently cupping your face.

"Leon," you murmur.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No...You haven't slept."

A small smile. "That obvious?"

"Yeah...Look shittier than usual."

"Oh, you're one to talk."

You grab his arm and pull him down with you, his chest against yours. Your arms wrap around him. As if you're actually strong enough to keep him there if he didn't want to be. Your grip is rather lazy since you're only half-awake.

"Go to sleep."

"Is that an order, ma'am?"

"Mhm."

He shifts his position to get more comfortable. You're unconscious again already. He doubts he'll actually fall out as easily as you are right now, but he'll stay here regardless. Can't risk waking you up, after all. It'll be day soon and you certainly don't need to know that.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

[starlightshadowsworld]

Danganronpa 3: Despair Arc episode 1

Thonks.

I love the framing of zooming out of Chisa's death to her sat in a cinema.

Because it's back to the past my dudes.

The colour pallet and tonal shift from the first episode of the future arc is jarring.

Like end of the world, arresting Makoto, put into a death game.

And now, high school.

Glares at Jin Kirigiri Can't wait for you to blast off.

Chisa is what I imagine a fusion between Ishimaru and Makoto would be like.

The fact there's only 4 people who showed up and one is Fuyuhiko.

I see you mister too cool for school sat in the back of the class with your feet up.

You ain't slick.

Mahiru and Hiyoko talking, Sonia sat front and center all posied.

It's insane how just one frame of them sat in class before any words are spoken, perfectly sums them up.

Chisa not being fazed by any of this, love it.

I mean honestly even her saying she doubled down on health insurance before she took this job.

Makes sense.

Super high school level or not they're still high schoolers.

And getting into Hopes peak is the hard part, once your in your in.

Your set for life when you graduate.

And as Mahiru says as long as you pass your exams and keep up your talent your good.

Why would you bother attending regular classes if that's the case.

Oh Mikan, your poor sweet child, get up.

The maid apron, guess shits going down. Ohh you're gonna show up to class, whether you wanna or not.

... I didn't need the very descriptive image of a mouldy orange but I get it.

Sonia matching Chisa's energy, yess.

Fuyuhiko tried to deny the power of friendship.

He loses.

Now I dunno if pulling a blade on a student, stabbing his table and look very much like you'll stab his hand... is the best idea.

But she spoke his language and for it got his respect.

Which I'm glad because as fun as asshole Fuyuhiko is, I like when he's friendly.

Also given the erm... Shit going on in this school, I don't think they can say much.

Just be glad Peko isn't here.

Why are we in the mens bathroo-...oh wait, Nekomaru.

Nevermind.

Nope, that's Sonia.

And the blood is pink here.

... Wish I didn't have to get that information from Teruteru having a nosebleed over Sonia ordering meat.

Sigh

I'm glad Chisa ties him up but knowing him he'd like it.

Annnd he does.

Idk if he flirts with guys in the game, but apparently Teruteru loves all.

... Way to much and way too intensely.

Stay classy, Teruteru.

Akane being spiderman, wasn't what I was expecting but here we are.

And if course they need Teruteru to cook to get Akane.

Smart.

Sonia is just getting all the pervs to go to class.

I don't care what anyone says, Gundam is so cool.

The animal shed looks like some kind of temple, torches are lit and he's standing above.

And there's giant statues of the 4 dark devas of destruction.

The bat's that signal his arrival.

"Speak the name of evil and it shall appear. You gaze upon Tanaka the forbidden one."

Gives a speech about destroying this corrupted planet.

👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼Now that, is how you make an entrance.

Ibuki's guitar being part flame thrower just makes sense.

Peko just apologising and going, makes sense.

Idk why Fuyuhiko is suprised about Peko's job. Is it a secret they're in the Yakuza?

I mean he was scouted because of it right? Idk maybe I'm missing something.

Did... Soda just get hit by a truck?.

Oh I get it, Nagito went to get a drink and now he's gonna end up with a Soda.

Slow claps

... Nevermind the truck broke the machine and he gets all the drinks.

Great show of his talent, he had bad luck and than immediately got good luck.

The four dark devas with teeny lil brushes is so cute.

... Wait so Ryota was apart of this class?

I thought he was gonna end up being Imposter but, huh... Interesting.

Because he's preseumbly the only one who didn't become a Remnant?

And he and Chisa got out.

Hajime!!!

Hears his thoughts of people insulting him.

Hajime 🥺

Chiaki!

... Wait wasn't Chiaki just programme in the simulator? She wasn't real like the others were.

So this mean that she actually existed.

... Oh... That's not good.

I know Hajime isn't apart of the 77th class, he's a reserve course student.

But man it feels werid seeing them without him.

And he's already got those negative thoughts about himself and his lack of talent.

At least Chiaki seems like she's gonna be a friend to him, especially from what we know from the game.

... But that wasn't really her but based on her.

... Hmmm....

Wasn't expecting Hajime to be from a rich family but I guess it makes sense.

Reserve course or not, Hope's Peak is one of the most prestigious schools.

The fact they have a uniform and the Ultimate don't, immediately putting them in their own category.

I find it interesting how Makoto is now seen as lower than everyone else.

Everyone who's an Ultimate while they wonder if he even deserves his title.

And he's wearing a suite identical to Hajime's.

A symbol of the reserve course, of people the talented see as beneath them.

Chiaki offering a unique outlook, the outlook I know Hajime won't accept.

Given... Yeah.

That you have the freedom we don't, you have the ability to do what you want while I just have a pile of video games.

Similiar to how Leon dedpite his talent for baseball wanted to be a musician.

"Let's put something else first, our hope."

Nagito: Hope

Me:... Oh no.

I mean now your speaking his language.

Chisa knows Munakata already?

I wonder if they went to school together than?

Also Munakata your hair looks so much better here.

What happened man?

Oh they definitely know each other.

So Chisa, Munakata and Juzo the guy who best Makoto all went to school together.

... And now we're going back to the present where she's just been killed infront of them...

Oh boy

[fanficparker]

A GAME OF DIAMONDS AND HEARTS // H.O.

>> CHAPTER TWO

"The reward of sin is death? That’s hard." - Doctor Faustus, Marlowe

(Frenemies to Lovers! Mob AU! ) Harrison Osterfield x Fem!OC

Word count: 2.45k words

Warning: Swearing, jerk behaviour, keeping hostage, guns, blood and violence, sexual tension.

Synopsis: After the sudden death of his uncle and the eccentric multi-millionaire mafia king Lufian Clarke, Harrison Osterfield’s almost decent life is mostly devastated especially when half of what should be rightfully his fortune is transferred to their immediate rival for reasons he doesn’t know. What’s remaining is him trying to figure out how to deal with this collaboration of two rival corporations that don’t belong together and work on the side of the woman he never knew would ever be referred to as his partner in crime while they are dragged into a mess bigger than what they were trained to handle.

<< ONE [ MASTERLIST ] THREE >>

"Kill her."

Harry coughed. Twice.

"You know that's not possible," because if it was, wouldn't they have eliminated all their rivals already? The mafia was no easy business. It was equivalent to living on the edge without a rope tied to your waist to pull you back in case you fall off the cliff. Rather there was a rope tied to your ankle, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pull you down.

Harrison licked his dried lips as he rose from the desk, stepping closer to him. "Yeah and that's why Tom should be here, not you." He paused for a moment before mumbling: "Kid," amusement crossing his sharp features.

Harry's stomach rumbled with anger. Oh, and you are an obtuse twenty-four-year-old crazy old man who is also a big ass jerk.

He wanted to punch that grimace off his face.

The only reason he was a part of the mafia was that he believed in Clarke's philosophy, his ideology, his way of dealing with things but with Harrison on board, was it even the same anymore?

Harrison crossed the nineteen-year-old, barging into the door to exit the room. "Ask Tom to meet me in the car at seven. And until then I don't want a single soul near myself." He stated before putting a foot out of the door.

Harry expected to hear his departing footsteps but Harrison rather took a foot back, meeting the redhead's eyes with a steady gaze.

"And from next time," He warned, "knock before you enter." And with that he left, his footsteps echoing behind him.

All Harry could do was clench his fist.

***

It was a business agreement but it felt more like a marriage. An unwanted, forceful one. One where you hated your spouse to the moon and back and yet had to lose a part of your bed, life and love.

Why would you ever do this to me, Clarke? Why would you?! The anger and frustration bubbling inside his chest were too much to handle. He had left along with Tom and had captured one of Dino's closest men.

Dino was one of their new clients and had lately caused a lot of trouble from not paying the amount he owed to actually trying to fly off Europe.

If it was for any other day, Harrison wouldn't even bother handling Dino or any of his men by himself but today he needed a punching bag. A punching bag on whom he could pour all his pent up rage out. Beat his torment off another person's bones. That made sense to him.

He had dragged the man in the dark of the abandoned warehouse— the place Dino once used as a storage for his illegal weapons. The place he had tried to erase, pretend that it never existed.

Tom tied him to the chair for enquiry but Harrison was in no mood for that. He had already made up his mind. He didn't even let the man lift up his head to comprehend what was happening before Harrison's fist made a sharp contact with his jaw, knocking him to the floor along with the chair.

Tom watched from the side as Harrison grabbed the man's shirt, now dusty and violated with stains of fresh blood mixed with spit, establishing the chair back on the cemented floor with a thud. "Ask your boss to show up, will you?" He raised his voice several octaves as if to mock him for being so weak and helpless.

With blood sputtering between the guy's teeth, he tried to speak, "I--"

But Harrison instantly cuts in, circling around his chair, "Oh wait. What can you even do? You are useless for both me and Dino. That's why Dino left you here. He doesn't give a fuck if you live or die." He halted his steps and pulled the man's hair, sharply forcing his head back, jarring his neck, painfully stretching the muscles of his throat before spatting into his face, "You hear that? You. Are. Worthless."

And then he again swung his fist across his face, just this time he didn't stop. His knuckles throbbed with the sharp collision of bone against bone. His skin turned bright blue hidden by red. God, it felt good.

"We don't wanna kill him." Tom reminded, voice laced with disgust. This was brutal even for Harrison.

"I want to." He groaned, fisting his hands in the man's shirt.

"And here I wondered, Clarke's scion would be smarter."

His neck snapped at the voice. The source of the words— the silhouette emerged from the door, her heels hitting against the cemented floor as she strolled towards the blue light that filled the otherwise dark room.

Harrison recognised the voice well, he didn't need to wait for it to materialise into human form but he also didn't want to hear it, let alone see the person whom it belonged to. Somethings are inevitable, anyway.

"What are you doing here?" Tom was the first one to speak, his eyes focused on the woman who stood just a few feet apart from them, her shoulder-length dark hair sitting as a tight ponytail, high on her head, giving her the illusion of height.

She crossed her arms over her midsection, one foot slightly ahead of the other and let out a breath. "That's not a question, you ask your boss. Especially in that tone." Her words were sharp but not her voice or tone for that matter. For an outsider or an amateur, it would appear as if she was just there to ridicule the two boys. Yeah, in some way, it was true except for the 'just' part. Both Tom and Harrison were neither an outsider nor amateurs to read into that. They knew why she was here.

Harrison asked anyway, swallowing his boiling rage, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Her lips twisted into a half grin. "Well, you can ask that though."

The small laughter that followed her words made a muscle tick in his jaw. He was this close to snapping. Snapping to no avail. Snapping for vain. She had won. She had won his prize and there was nothing he could do to reclaim it. He couldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that she got him. No, she didn't. He reminded himself. No one could.

"I just came to check on you guys. Also, considering the fact that none of you noticed me standing right outside this room..." She looked over her shoulder, pointing a finger at the door, "Anyone could have shot you dead right there."

"And oh my god!" She gasped upon turning back to the scene, her voice infused with fake concern, "What have you done to this poor soul?"

The tension that hung between them had managed to make the muffled cries of the fourth person inaudible to the three pair of ears in the room. Maybe because he was the rat rather than the conventional elephant, people were so used to address.

"He is my client," Harrison growled, low in his throat— a thinly veiled attempt at trying to keep things civil.

"Not just yours." She corrected, flashing a small smile in his direction, more of a grimace, walking towards the man tied to the chair. The two guys watched her with narrowed, questioning eyes as she removed her coat, the draping neckline of her red top doing the bare minimum to cover anything.

She slouched across his chair, wiping the blood from the corner of his lip, softly smearing it across his cheek.

"Is this bad boy bullying you?" She momentarily shot a glance at Harrison. The man nodded, too afraid and too injured to speak.

Clicking her tongue in disdain, she gripped his chin tightly, her nails digging into his skin as she pushed the chair to the back, supported only by one of her heels. He jerked in his bonded state.

She leaned near his face, her breath tickling in his ear. "Why not better start behaving then?" She whispered, her lips brushing against the side of his face. "I don't like pretty faces as yours harmed."

Her finger traced over his lower lip, her nail scratching his wound in ways more sensual than painful. "Will you comply?" Her eyes flickered down to his lips.

He nodded instantly and desperately. He was charged up; her scent was filling his senses. When her eyes were back to his face, his slid to take a peek at her cleavage, a mixture of fear and excitement dotting his sweltering forehead with beads of sweat.

"Good boy," she muttered and dragged her foot away from the chair, installing him back to where they had started.

"P-Please..." The guy managed to utter when she moved away, urgency evident in his voice. A triumphant grin got pasted over her face in response, making her laugh at his needy request.

Harrison could bet that the guy had a mild erection even in his blood ridden pathetic state. The scene almost made him puke. Where he was using force and blood, she was using her body, sex as a weapon. Definitely not his way of working. Yet, he failed to suppress the dull tightening sensation in his abdomen—and the part below it.

She walked up to him, pulling her hair down, brushing them with her fingers. Her laughter had long subsided but its residue was still echoing in his head. He hated that. He hated her.

"Doesn't it spark old memories, Osterfield?"

His face flickered with annoyance. It was in his best interest to ignore her words.

"Let's talk over at dinner." She offered, carrying her coat on her elbow. Yeah, they very much needed to talk even when he didn't prefer it. So, he walked out of the room, waiting for her to follow.

"You should seriously take him back to wherever you picked him from." She instructed Tom as if Harrison wasn't enough for him to deal with.

***

"We had a reservation," she smiled at the hostess, "by the name of Sandhya Omar." Harrison, on the other hand, was somehow managing not to kill. Her, specifically.

The hostess smiled back, taking a glance at the register in her hand, "Welcome, Ms. Omar. Let me escort you to your table." She smiled at Harrison too. He didn't appreciate the gesture.

She led them to a table perfectly designed for two, for a date perhaps, placed on a quiet, dimly lit balcony. Harrison removed his blazer, hanging it over the chair before folding the sleeves of his beige-coloured shirt over his arms and occupying the seat. The hostess dragged Sandhya's chair, letting her sit.

She mumbled a quiet thank you.

"A waiter will be here shortly." She informed and left. She didn't lie; not a minute had passed and the waiter was already there, passing them two menus and pouring clear champagne into their flutes. Before he could proceed to light the candles decorated over the table, Harrison interrupted:

"We don't need that."

"Of course we need that, darling." She cuts in, smiling so pleasantly at him, just like a cat would smile at a canary.

It was the waiter who smiled back, at both of them, actually. "I will come back for the orders when you both are ready."

"Thank you. We will take some time, though."

"No worries, Ms. Saan—dha—ya."

"Just call me Sandy, it's fine." She shrugged away his absurd pronunciation of her name. The waiter just passed her an apologetic smile, walking away, leaving them in solitude, surrounded by nothing but luxury and privacy.

"Talk?" Harrison began.

"What?" She pretended to be clueless.

It was a game for her.

Not for him.

"You wanted to talk."

"You don't?"

He wasn't having it. So, she simply rolled her eyes, choosing to initiate. "Okay... I will start," she let out a breath, "My mob wants me dead because they want what I have inherited."

Funny, they and Harrison were on the same page.

"And you walked here alone?" He quirked a brow.

She slumped in her chair, one foot crossed over her knee, "You see, I am not alone." Her hands gestured at him.

He snorted. Ridiculous.

"You seriously think that I want you any less dead than them?"

"Yeah."

"That's foolish." He leaned across the table, elbows pressing against the wood, "I'd kill you the second I'd get the chance." He stressed certain syllables, gritting his teeth in fury. His tone dripped scorn.

"No, you won't. You need me." She stated as a matter-of-fact, straightening her back.

"You wish." He replied quickly, scoffing at her misplaced confidence.

Her phone on the table vibrated, providing them with the much needed break from cocking their verbal guns at each other. The sneer on her face vanished in a heartbeat, quickly replaced by fear as soon as her eyes scanned the glowing screen. She tapped the dial on her watch before leaning across the table.

"Listen carefully..."

He didn't.

Her hands grabbed his collar, pulling his face closer to hers, tautly stretching the fabric of his shirt, "Your life is at threat too!"

Her eyes glanced at her watch again.

"Four minutes and they'll be here." The slight flicker of the candle burning across the table animated a dance of shadows on their faces, projecting the fearful vibrations in her stomach onto the surface. "For both of us," she clarified, their face centimeters apart.

He laughed pulling himself back, not considering her words any worthy of his contemplation, smoothening the creases she had created on his otherwise crisp shirt. But she was quick to pull him again, not allowing his eyes to focus on anything else but her.

"This is no drill, Harrison." She warned, her dark eyes cold and hard and locked on his blue ones.

"In four--three minutes, there will be a smoke bomb thrown below our table, and that's our only chance to escape. Take the left side, use the pipes to climb down as quickly as possible. A car will be waiting for you at the side of the street."

He squinted his eyes in disbelief, an expression of boredom covering his face. "Why would I trust you?"

She sighed, pulling a compact case, keeping it between them, the mirror facing his side. His pupils dilated noting the reflection on it. It was the reflection of a person, holding a sniper rifle, standing on the rooftop of the building across them.

A chill crept through his heart. Their eyes met again.

In a tone that lacked any hesitation and provided no explanation, she gave away the second part of the answer, "Because Clarke didn't die... He was murdered."

Yeah, people like Clarke don't just die.

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…TO BE CONTINUED…

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[akutagawaprize]

No offence, but I feel as if in this chapter, the author got tired of this entire ark in general, as the entire situation was solved ridiculously fast. Now, I don't really understand Japanese, so this may not be accurate. But from what I see, both highly powerful opponents were ridiculously quickly subdued, and somehow Fitzgerald decided to side with the Mafia and the ADA for no reason. We didn't even get to know Fyodor's ability yet, and he's already defeated.

I, too, was disappointed in this chapter, but after collecting my thoughts, I decided that it wasn’t a bad way of ending this arc, if this indeed is the end. Sure it may have looked abrupt, but it could have been worse… Or so I like to tell myself.

(Warning: I try my best to be unbiased and objective but this may read like a lot of whining. Only proceed if you’re fine with that.)

The good:Akutagawa’s promise to Atsushi; appearance of the rest of ADA and Port Mafia; Fitzgerald saving the day; Ango and his crew appearing; that not-so-subtle nod to Odasaku in the end

The “I don’t have much of a good or a bad opinion on this”:Shin soukoku new combo move;  Chuuya still in the book

The bad:Quick resolution to the arc; implied lobotomy(!?); Dazai and his keikaku doori antics again; strange sense of déjà vu since they used practically same buildup as the last arc, but now it’s the remix version

First of all, I’ll just have to throw out my wildest (not really) theory out here: Fyodor is still the “final boss”. Come on, he gets the moniker “The Demon” and gets jailed off like that? No, no. It doesn’t make sense at all, at least to me. So my guess is that Agatha and the Order of the Clock Tower will swoop in to try and mess with the Agency, but when they’re on the verge of defeat, Fyodor steps in and uses this chance to strike ADA for himself. So uh Guild Arc 2.0. Or something along those lines. This could’ve been a test drive. Or he could have other Rats in Russia waiting for orders in case there’s a Phase II. Call me optimistic, but that’s what I would like to believe.

We jailbreak from Azkaban and invade Ministry of Magic now.

There really isn’t much to say about Dazai proving himself a formidable chessmaster again, other than I called it on an earlier ask. I just hope I’m not the only one tired of him being right all the damn time. No one can be that all-seeing…

People keep asking about Chuuya. Some were disappointed he only had one panel, some were rejoicing because it was “in-character” he stayed because he enjoyed fighting. But Ranpo kinda confirmed Chuuya stayed not because he wanted to beat people, but because it’s faster that way than using his brains? He’s not dumb, but come on, why would he prolong his stay if at that time his current concern was to protect Mori/kill off Fukuzawa? So yeah, his fate doesn’t really interest me, because I’ve always thought he was someone who is too popular to die… Not important, because sheesh let’s face it, Asagiri hasn’t really fleshed him out yet and doesn’t seem to have the intention of wanting to anytime soon. (Light novel soon please? Or a backstory in the movie if they wanna get dat yen lmao)

I’m more curious about how Ranpo got out, because the last time Poe trapped him, he was transported back with Yosano after solving the case. Was there some unwritten rule that a person can be selective with who he brings back with him? I hope we get clarifications on this, I’m a sucker when it comes to analyzing abilities and their corresponding limits and restrictions. It bugs me that in BSD there are a lot of additions and contradictions when it comes to abilities and that they come up only when it’s convenient to the plot. (For example, anyone can activate Doppo Poetry as long as they have a page with them. I don’t think it’s been mentioned before, but anyway it bothered me for some reason.)

Another big thing this chapter: Akutagawa’s promise to Atsushi. I got an ask talking specifically about this, so I’ll write a post about that later. For now, I can just say that it’s probably the best thing that’s happened to Akutagawa after the “You got stronger” shoulder pat. I’m not expecting him to turn over a new leaf, now full of hope and vigor for life, but he’s trying and he might come up with his own concluson to an unanswered question in his heart: “What is my life worth living for?”

Oh and Atsushi being able to rip out abilities… Imagine if Wolverine can No Longer Human enemies… I don’t like this at all, but what can you do, he’s the protagonist anyway so he gets a pass.So for now I’ll be bumping Atsushi to No. 2 of the most powerful known Ability users second only to Lovecraft. Granted, he had to team up with Akutagawa to come up with this Ultimate Dark Claw thing, but still. I guess I just like balance. In any case, one can argue that shin soukoku needs to grow stronger if they want to fend off the coming Europeans.

Food for thought: If Dazai can nullify abilities and Atsushi can also cancel out abilities with tiger claws, will they cause a singularity if they got into a serious fight?

Hmm.

Fitzgerald! He didn’t care about Fyodor getting his leftover assets actually, but remember, it was Fyodor who crashed Moby Dick. He also reasoned that while he has no interest in whatever he’s “left” behind, he didn’t want a rat using his leftover resources. In short, he did it to spite the Russian. So while I can respect that, I was still hoping that instead of Dazai coming up with the deal (how did he even know Fitz acquired Eyes of God?), it would be Katai who would call this to attention. After all, as someone who is knowledgeable about technology and electronics, he could have picked up information on Eckleburg. Of course, there’s a fair bit of chance that he heard about it from Ranpo or Atsushi (they were there when Alcott asked for help) but there was no explanation for how Dazai came to that knowledge. Ah. Well.

I mean, until now we don’t know how Natsume saved Katai.

Dazai then went on to say that Fitzgerald will declare war on them again so this + the yacht are the last friendly gestures they’re going to get from the Guild. Wonder what happens to Lucy and Poe now…

They totally could have asked for a Special Ability Permit in exchange for their services but okay Richard!

The victory afterparty. Kunikida and Katai were nowhere to be seen, so was Yosano. You know who else we haven’t seen? Hawthorne and Katsura. With Katsura, he could have been helped by Kunikida… who I believe is still mourning the deaths of the innocent children… They should really address that next chapter. Or whatever. As for our Winter Soldier, he’s either roaming around aimlessly or he was captured. Who knows? We don’t know how he got mind-controlled either (another Rat? or suffered a similar fate with Ivan…). But if his goal was to heal Mitchell, then Yosano is the perfect answer.

What else? Oh! Fuku wasn’t in the party too right? Meeting up with Natsume and Mori? I don’t know…  As you can see, I come up with various scenarios and get them wrong 75% of the time. I was being dramatic too over Elise even though I knew she’d come back, but… This was fast. Glad to see her again though!

Oops. I rambled enough. Those were my thoughts, more or less. As I’ve said, it was a fairly standard BSD chapter. Disappointing, but still has a lot of loose ends which can be neatly tied up in upcoming chapters. I know a lot of people liked how this chapter ended, but… I’m not one of them, I’m afraid. I hope to be more enthusiastic about future chapters.

[punkscowardschampions]

Ronnie, Bronson, Charlie & Bea

Ronnie: I'm going on a run Ronnie: who wants? Bronson: My stash is depleted for some unknown reason 🤔 please stock me up Charlie: Ooh, new year new you babe? Charlie: couch to 5k is it aspirational af 😍 Bea: ✋ me Ronnie: fuck off i just dont need you pussies crying when you can't scav my gear Ronnie: what'll it be princess? the usual Charlie: c'mon, we've always shared everything, nothing is your own #carekidlife Bronson: Ha! That'll be why the lock on my door never sticks Bea: yep, not decided to get heavily into crack since we last spoke, just lots of amphetamines in any form you find 'em, tah, got exams coming up Ronnie: Shame Ronnie: reckon I'd like you more on the hard shit Charlie: just in case you missed the old place, man, giving you that nostalgia for when you had to padlock anything that wasn't bolted to the floor 😜 Bronson: Good times! 😀 Bea: Shame I'm not trying to be your type then, I guess Bea: soz darling, spoken for 💋 Charlie: Truly, missing that tenner a week pocket money, LUXURY! Ronnie: fucking am Ronnie: pissing jobcentre Bronson: I'll add it to your tab if you're desperate as Charlie: gotta learn to play their game, babe Charlie: not throw the board in a hissy Ronnie: 🖕 doss cunts Bea: catch me here fanning myself with sweet, sweet debt for future me to give a shit about Bronson: I'll wipe it out if you use some to keep me sweet Bea: sweet enough sugar 😘 Bea: but forreal, if you could manage that I would be your sugar mama for LIFE 🙏 Bronson: It's student loans not the feds Bronson: Easy peasy Bea: true, like all branches of the gov, pretty fucking useless Bea: but I'm an immigrant as far as they concerned so they treat me SO good 😋 Bronson: Same, but we can always stretch our hands out a little further Ronnie: To jack it and pat yourself on the back at the same time, yeah? Ronnie: calm it down Bronson: New year, new look too! Green looks ace with black 😄 Bea: Clearly do not have natural rhythm Ronnie, that's really not that difficult Bea: You're not a drummer, are you? 😕 Ronnie: get off my tits all of yous Ronnie: do you want gear or nah? Bronson: 🤐 Bea: I thought you'd already gone tbh Ronnie: not trying to score that weak gay shit Ronnie: hitting up a more reliable source like Charlie: rude, i'm RIGHT here Ronnie: are you even gay fitzy? always in my pussy lad Bronson: 😷 Bea: 🤢 Charlie: idk, ask ur man 💖 Ronnie: that'll be why me and Bron's dads did a bunk Bronson: Get yourself locked up at the same time just for the d, did you? Romantic Charlie: if the porn n the stereotypes n the rate of STIs are anything to go by...love is in the air always in cell block h Ronnie: princess'll have some handcuffs to get you on your way to that good loving Bea: 🚿🧠 anyone got any bleach? Bea: Charlie isn't worth the 💰 use cable ties, more authentic Bronson: 99 🚔 My fingers are on the button....Stop for the love of god Ronnie: Bron can help you out there Fitz Ronnie: 🤓 Bronson: Take that over a thicko label Charlie: Look, babe, know you wanna tie me down forever but do it yourself, don't involve the kid Charlie: 💍 diamond or no D, soz Ronnie: Bring a needle I'll snag a gem Bronson: Don't go there, C, I'm still riding the ear infection wave Bronson: It's been 84 years Ronnie: yeah cause you're a mong that can't turn an earring Bronson: In my defense I was a legit child Bea: nothing screams low-class like stabbing your friends for the bants Charlie: and i already scream homo loudly enough, don't need another reason to be hate crime-d, a thank you Bronson: If I didn't know you I'd guess bisexual Bronson: You can have that for free Charlie: what a smooth-talker! thanks babe 💖 Charlie: and if i didn't know you, i'd guess you were trying to see my dongle Bronson: Been there, repressed the trauma o that Ronnie: get a fucking room benders Charlie: why you being so homophobic when we all know how bad you want on princess? cliche stuck in the closet much Bea: shut up Ronnie: in your wet dreams Charles Ronnie: fuck off Charlie: oh the delicious tension Charlie: too much for either to bear Ronnie: I know where she's been Ronnie: fuck that Ronnie: like you wish you could gayboy Bronson: Wait, you fancy Fraze, Charlie? Ha Bea: Bron can you not encourage either of them Bea: thanks Bronson: Sorry my mind's just blown I thought he was out of his straight boy phase Charlie: What? Its a compliment for you, he's adorable, why else would you be with him? Ronnie: they're both annoying cunts Ronnie: match made Charlie: and never out of that phase, bro 😍 #daddyissues Bea: get his name out of your mouth bitch Ronnie: oi get your mouth off his dick Fitzgerald you heard her Ronnie: princess is raging like Ronnie: when your mans a slag and youre a prude Bea: As if Bea: Only one McKenna fucked up to go near you Bea: #singletear Charlie: Children, enough Ronnie: Bron do that final 9 she's going off 😂 Bronson: Walking away Bea: know you're hard up but as per we're all funding you getting your rocks off so run along and do it, no need to bore me trying to get your kicks Ronnie: know youre a snobby cunt but I don't work for you Bea: you don't work for anyone, not even JC gonna fund your lack of a life Ronnie: 🖕 mad cause I don't need reddies to fund myself Bea: yeah fuming Bea: if only I'd have thought of selling my body, wouldn't even NEED to be at cambs rn omg Ronnie: nailed it Bea: 😂 Bea: whodathunkit Bea: talking to the cure for cancer stuck inside a waster here Bea: and I'm the snob, okay Ronnie: fucking hell Ronnie: devvo like Bea: We can tell Bea: you don't need to shout about it, you've got the energy of a walking wasteland Ronnie: can't wait until you take some more speed and get more smug Bea: Right? Bea: Must sting, better only getting better Bea: why don't you get something to numb the pain- Ronnie: let you know how it feels when the lads come up Bronson: A rare compliment, you hitting it already? Ronnie: you'll have your share calm the fuck down Charlie: i don't want any, i'm busy Charlie: glad you all noted my silence, feel so listened to usually! hmpf Ronnie: so now you're a little bitch too Ronnie: fuck's sake Bronson: PARTY TIME, am I right? Really in the mood now thanks everyone Charlie: who's in who's pussy, dollface? Charlie: keep your shirt on, Bro 😂 got enough with the two angry feminists here Charlie: I've got previous plans, if you're really so hurt, you can save me some, no? Whaddya mean that'd hurt more? 😏 Bea: you're alright, I personally rather you weren't there, suits me 😘 Bronson: Shirts already off, too late 😜 Bea: Standard 👌 Charlie: you big man whore Charlie: when i'm not around to be predatory, too, tuttut Bronson: I'd wilt under your stare, you know you aren't missing out Charlie: our beautiful wallflower Charlie: I bagsy being a red rose, lil trashy but iconic Bronson: Thorn in our sides Bronson: accepted Bea: Nice one, babe Bea: i'll be an orchid, because i'm beautiful, ornamental and high-maintenance Bea: getting in there before any of you fucks can Charlie: though your silence IS noted, wonwon Charlie: don't be cross at me 😘 Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: you're not the only one who's busy Ronnie: got a dick in my mouth too like Charlie: such a skilled multitasker Charlie: teach me your ways Bronson: in private please Bronson: not a lesson I want to learn Bea: we're not living in that teen movie Ronnie: On my way Bea: 👍 getting cash out, meet you there Bronson: Doors on the latch

Bea: Morning sweetness 😴 Bea: manage to recover your good vibe/night? Bronson: is it? 😪 Bronson: Until now it wasn't too bad Bronson: Do you get to say the same or is it pure suffering? Bea: Wow, when you hit bae up with that morning text and he's like day=ruined 😰 thought we was forever 😉 Bea: Decided to get off with someone around the same time I lost track of yous, so it was fucking awful, don't tell me you coulda told me that Bronson: It's only the comedown I wanna dump you're welcome to come and nap 💗 Bronson: Not to be that know it all Bea: Molly's such a cruel, cruel mistress, she wants you to miss her when she's gone 💁 Bea: Poor bubba, better than waking up next to that pushy bitch from last night though, Jesus, what was her damage? Bea: I reckon he'd actually gone out and had his drunken kebab and THEN PAID TO GET BACK IN Bea: No sir, not alright Bea: Why do I bother? Bronson: But I'm shamelessly smitten, only girl for besides present company like Bronson: Whatever it is she's not the first or last sufferer Bronson: Thanks for the bail out and sorry I wasn't there to do the same with kebab Kev Bea: N'awwh 💞 glad I hold more appeal than Tina, don't need to be going down that route Bea: It's an epidemic! Basic bitches who can't get a man willing, yeah take that out on innocent onlookers who ain't buying and talk about how your ex ain't shit for being a creepy letch Bea: We see you sweets 💅 Bea: Any time, even if you weren't there to take that donner breath bullet Bea: I'd never ask that of anyone, even Ronnie, though she'd brag about not being arsed, I'm sure 😂 Bronson: Next time I'll carry gum and throw it at whoever you deem worthy Bronson: Give me the nod Bronson: It was all over her socials like we had a good night together until I got there first Bronson: Rather take out Tina and all her mates Bea: as if you don't already Bea: if only little miss would-be-rapist knew that strong jawline was from gurning up a storm 😉 Bea: not so sexy now Bronson: there's nothing in my pockets I'm just pleased to see you Bronson: Seriously though, some of those selfies had to go for that unflattering reason alone taking into account none of her other antics Bronson: I looked a state Bea: 😂 not fallen for that one before but i'll make an exception for you boo Bea: catch me in my duvet cocoon, please don't look at me 'cos same Bea: I dread to think Bea: kept off my accounts for that reason and many more, some of us have reputations to uphold, skank Bronson: want me to check Bronson: clean up the carnage Bronson: Then brunch, your treat Bea: please Bea: roleplay my IT bitch and I'll be feeling my boss best in time for a liquid lunch Bea: will have to damage control my face first, enjoy watching me lovingly whilst I turn a -2 to an 11 Bronson: Never get bored of staring at you, you know that Bronson: Make my hair great again Bronson: Thanks Bea: when you shoulda been Trump's campaign manager 😕 Bea: sort the weave, clean up that twitter Bea: what a wonderful world it coulda been Bronson: Last night proves I can't stop him pussy grabbing Bronson: Need you for that one Bea: This pussy bites back 😼 Bea: its not your fault, girls like that, if you tell her to fuck off, and rightly so, it'd be made like YOU were being a prick to her Bea: gotta bullshit these hoes sometimes, tis the only way Bronson: Or playing hard to get...they fire that one at me loads Bronson: 😦 Bea: 🤢 gross Bea: got that one myself a fair few times, when I'm not being accused of being a prude by Ronaldo, hilariously Bea: People are the worst Bea: 'cept us Bronson: It's only because she likes you Bronson: Flattering, isn't it? Bronson: Being called broken is my fave Bronson: "Who hurt you?" You are right now, fuck off before you get a slap yourself to feel the pain of Bea: Wouldn't that just be the perfect solution in their simplistic little world? If only Bea: Save myself the feelings of disgust not brought on by kebab breath Bea: Though, if you think that that's love coming from Ron, then you do have an answer to their riddle right there, not real but the masses'll take one look at her and buy it 😜 Bronson: No arguments here Bronson: Your socials are sparkling now so that's real comfort to take Bea: 💖 yay Bea: the world never need know Bea: as long as I didn't drunk dial or text Fraze, this day is looking up, tah babes Bronson: Not to be a know it all again so quick Bronson: but I'm going to go ahead and guess the answer to that one Bea: BITCH DON'T KILL MY VIBE Bea: I'm sure I'd have angry ranting in my inbox if I had Bea: or a passive indirect on the socials, come across one perchance smartiepants? Bronson: Might've Bronson: I'll spare you Bea: Noooooooooooooooooooo Bea: Coulda had it all Bea: Really sours my Bloody Mary Bea: Fuck sake, now he's going to think I FUCKED kebab kev and enjoyed it meanwhile I sit here virginal and scrubbing my mouth out with soap Bea: How's this game fair again, please remind me Bronson: It isn't Bronson: But I can't tell you to stop playing Bronson: All yours Bea: you're meant to be a superwhizkid Bea: can't you think up a strategy so I win Bronson: Thinking cap is on Bronson: Because my hair still looks shit as much as Bea: I'll fix your barnet Bea: Between you and Charlie, honestly Bea: Never known boys like it 😂 Bea: blatant lie, have you seen how particular Fraze is but he doesn't really have much hair to be stylin' so Bronson: 👴 awkward Bea: you fool Bea: not like that 😂 Bea: though I'll keep it in my backpocket for when we inevitably row later Bea: #malepatternbaldnessBITCH Bronson: Freebie to kick your day off right again Bea: if you refuse to tell me what to do, could you use your skillz for good at least and fucking disable my phone when i'm fucked Bronson: Last time I tried you tried to fight me like Bea: Look, I didn't say it was a task for the fainthearted 😉 Bea: and yes, you would be the first to succeed too Bea: but if anyone can, its my man 😘 Bronson: Ego boost before eggs Bronson: Whoa Bronson: Today is looking up Bea: Gotta keep you sweet with all the bitching I'll no doubt do at brunch Bea: such a Carrie move, like no one cares bitch, write it in your column or books or...what did she even write? Or was she just monologuing at her computer, like all been there babe but don't act like its buying you all that designer Bronson: Her real true love was that laptop Bronson: Solved it Bea: 😲 Bea: but Mr. Big Bea: clue in the name Bronson: Could be his wallet Bronson: explain the designer gear Bea: Exactly Bea: Just my type Bronson: I'd go in for it if I can spend and send him the receipts Bea: you must be aware there are websites for that Bea: get on it boy Bronson: It all gets too sexual for my tastes Bea: set out boundaries Bea: different strokes for different folks Bea: i'm SURE there's a millionaire out there that just wants to chat Bronson: 🤔 There's enough fighting off advances in the club Bronson: Shelving that until millionaires become good people Bea: not bad people by default Bea: just a bad system they profit from more than you Bronson: Getting deep in here Bronson: Truth though Bea: real talk take #2 Bea: where do you think charlie was last night? and who or what was he doing? Bronson: Good questions that I have no answer to Bronson: If he had a job we'd all know Bea: I need to know, suspense is killing me Bea: I didn't think anything beat drugs in his book Bea: somewhat encouraging? Bronson: You could ask but I doubt you'd get far enough into the real Bronson: It is Bronson: Boy's growing up? Bea: Full of the #bants them two Bronson: Since day 1 Bronson: I'm coming to get you, Barbara Bronson: Ready yourself Bea: *falls over gravestones like a dumb bitch* Bea: i'm good to go and looking fly Bronson: I'll do the coded knock Bronson: Made up rn Bea: Helpful Bronson: That's my thing Bronson: Soon, my love, soon