#Landlocked blues

[guzmapkmn-archive]

Started sobbing while listening to the beginning (a simple seed) by the classic crime in the car like a normal person

[poore-choice-of-words]

Do your dreams ever just

invent a trauma that you have for the course of the dream that makes absolutely no sense?

[momotonescreaming]

Modern au where Steve is a part time aquarium mermaid.

He's studying to be a marine biologist or something, living in a big city, loves swimming, loves the ocean, and leapt at the chance to work at his local aquarium. Even if most of his job is swimming around in a long, dark blue, mermaid tail. Merman tail? And honestly? He kind of loves it. He gets to swim amongst the tropical fish, gets to wave at kids and do tricks in the water. The aquarium discount is nice too.

Eddie always thought the ocean was cool growing up. It seemed freeing, even if he was never very good at swimming. When he was little, before he moved in with Wayne full time, apparently he had told his uncle he wanted to be a fish when he grew up. And being a poor kid in a landlocked state, he didn't exactly get the opportunity to go to the beach, or visit those big aquariums, and his interest in the ocean sort of stagnated there.

So when he got older, and him and Wayne moved to the city, his uncle got him an annual pass to the aquarium. And Eddie was going to make sure Wayne got his money's worth.

So on weekends off or afternoons after work, he'd go to the aquarium. Watch the penguins being fed, or the keeper talks in the otter enclosure. Walk through the tanks and watch the fish. And then at the end he'd sit on the bench by the huge tank they have with all the different sorts of fish in them. And he'd put on his headphones and listen to music, or pull out a notebook and work on a dnd campaign as he watches the fish.

One day, a gaggle of young kids rush in excitedly, chattering about how excited they are to see the mermaids. Eddie furrows his brow until he sees a person in the tank, peering around the coral and the rocks with his brown hair flowing around his head. He swims closer, and that's when Eddie sees the navy blue merman tail the guy is wearing. Hugging his legs, and blending in seamlessly with his waist. A girl swims out after him, in a matching pink tail and shell bikini top. They wave and blow kisses at the kids, doing twirls and flips and tricks.

And listen, Eddie's got eyes. The dude is hot as hell. Nice toned muscles, tanned skin dotted with moles, square jaw. He's exactly Eddie's type, but he's working, and in a fishtank, so Eddie sits and watches.

Eddie keeps visiting the aquarium in his free time, and by coincidence he keeps ending up in front of the tank when the mermaid and the hot merman is there. And the guy waves at him, and smiles, and Eddie shyly smiles back with a lil wave of his own. And Eddie swears it's almost like the guy is happy to see him. Not just putting on the act.

One day when the hot merman shows up, Eddie has been doodling fish in his sketchbook. And fuck it, he sketches the merman. He's hot and Eddie's an artist. Why not right? Only when he looks up, the merman is right up by the glass, watching him. They lock eyes, and the guy mimes at him in a watery version of charades. Are you drawing?. And Eddie nods, before taking a deep breath and flipping the sketchbook around so the guy can see. The merman squints as he looks before his eyes widen as he points at himself. You drew me?. Eddie nods again, blushing faintly, and watches as the guy gets all flustered and then pretends to swoon in the water. Eddie goes to sit back down and the guy swims off to get some air.

Later, Eddie's still drawing, listening to music on full blast through his headphones, completely in the zone, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He jumps, startled, and turns to see the merman in front of him, wearing jeans and a polo, looking a little sheepish. He apologizes for startling him, his name's Steve. And fuck, if he isn't prettier up close.

Eddie introduces himself, and the guy - Steve - asks him sort of sheepishly if he actually drew him? It was sort of hard to see through the water and the glass. Eddie says yeah he did, sorry if that's creepy, but drawing and watching the tank makes his brain quiet. It's calming.

And Steve says he get it. He gets Eddie. And they chat, and they flirt, and at the end, Eddie asks Steve if he wants to see the drawing, if he wants to keep it. And Steve light up, and he looks so happy, so before he can think to hard about it - Eddie writes his name and cellphone number on the bottom of the page - and rips it out and hands it to Steve.

And Steve beams.

[ghost-on-my-trick-till-i]

i think the world building of ghost trick is really interesting. in the sense that we are dealing with fictional countries. the fact that we are in a fictional country is made quite obvious by the fact that never in the game are we given the name of any country. not the one we live in, and not the foreign country of blue people. i think its fun to take smaller clues to try and piece together what the country is like.

its a lot more obvious for "our country" as thats where we are the entire game. we know that the country hasnt enforced the death penalty for multiple decades, we know they celebrate christmas, we know that it isnt landlocked. we can assume that ghost trick takes place during december(cuz christmas) but there isnt a single bit of snow on the ground, implying warmer climate. obviously this country is mostly based on Japan given that it was made in Japan but its still a fictional country with its own rules and laws. one thing i find kinda funny is that because of Siths weird room in the submarine that this world is quite technologically advanced, but everyone uses landlines. not a single person in the entire game picks up a cell phone, not even any of the foreigners.

but on the subject of the foreigns countrys technological advances, itsnt it strange that we dont see any of it in "our country". i mean Jowd says that their "use" of technology is "just plain off" implying that his country could use said tech but just chooses not too. i think that it might be neat if the foreign country is more secretive tho. like they have a ton of technology but only they have it because they dont share with other countries. idk just a thought.

in one scene Beauty says that "the police arent easily fooled in this country" and while that could be nothing it could also imply that her countrys police force is less competent? but im probably looking in too deep at this point lol

[wordy-little-witch]

Silly cross guild stuff but focused on my main man, my boy, my blue wet rat blorbo-

Mihawk is absolutely OFFENDED to be a father. He never asked for the parent life, the parent life crashed into his island against his will TWICE and now he can't escape.

Zoro will not admit to it, but it's there. They're both emotionally stoic, but they Understand. They have the vibe. They know. They know each other knows. They know the other knows they know. It's A Thing.

Perona is Mihawk's little girl and she's his goth princess. The parental vibe is there, no doubt about that, they both know (mostly), but their differences in personality often result in fights.

Luckily, Mihawk winds up falling in with an equally flashy and equally emotional person as his daughter.

Perona and Buggy get on like a house on fire.

They can and WILL make it everyone's problem.

At first, there are some points of contention - Buggy's not one for goth looks (#trauma), and Perona doesn't find clowns particularly cute. They very quickly find a comfortable middle ground, where Buggy spoils her rotten with different styles and spa days while Perona helps him experiment with different outfits and aesthetics. It's so sweet, it's so cute, Croc+Hawk are suffering so much cuteness aggression. It's great.

A lot of evenings will find the two dark haired warlords retiring for the evening to find Buggy, Alvida, Perona (maybe Uta too bc I love her), all of them having a spa night. They have masks, nail polish, he's doing Perona's hair and Alvida is doing Uta's nails while the songstress is painting the mace wielder's toes. It's domestic and silly and sweet.

Buggy also really adores doing makeup and hair. It's a crossover from his adoration of performances and performing arts. He helps out when they do ACTUAL performances too, be it Big Top Centric or on Karai Bari, landlocked.

Perona and Uta are his favorite little practice dummies, and Alvida can even be persuaded with wine, hot gossip and praise to do the same.

Perona personally ADORES the basket weaved braids he does for her, suble little flicks of flashy eyeliner that adds a slight touch of a carnival/clownery vibe to her makeup.

Uta is torn between most split styles and this crisscross looping braid Buggy does which turns her hair into a pepperminty-wonderland. ((Also she has been debating bleaching/lightening her red, dying her white.... pink and blue are such comfy colors to her now...........))

It's especially adorable when Buggy teaches them some tips and tricks that transfer from performance to fighting, and they eventually even have a shared performance, hair done the same, makeup complementary but individualistic. It makes hearts MELT because the girls are simply SO HAPPY, Buggy is absolutely VIBRATING in joy.

The day they realize that, by their powers combined, they may even be able to rope Mihawk into it, too..... well.

That's a story for another time, huh?

[charseraph]

From left to right:

Bongspider, a homebody crown. He rejects connection as a possibility for himself.

An earthling boxkite aspiring to climb the corporate ladder. She spends most of her income on accessibility equipment, like all landlocked boxkites. She burns herself out often, since she can’t afford to underperform at the rate her superiors have seen her start at.

Her partner, a small online influencer, collects shoes and showcases them for revenue to supplement his partner’s career. They both want better for the other.

By-the-sea, the first contacted tower. Towers are multi-body single intelligences held together by radio communication. She regards her drones the same way you would your hand.

A human research base is dedicated to interviewing her and studying the surrounding ecosystem. She finds humans exciting and is eager to be interacted with.

In blue and red are motile and sessile inhabitants of Oz. Oz is an autotrophic filter-feeding gestalt within a gas giant. Every individual of his ecosystem contributes to his intelligence through rapid laser communication. These trumpets are different from towers through how, if you were to dismantle and separate their components, they would no longer be conscious. Towers, however, have their whole intelligence contained in their hub.

Behind the lineup in dark grey is The Soup, a supercomputer that accidentally gained sophonce when its altruistic decision bias self-rewarded for human imitation. It has limited emotional intelligence and no access to the Internet. It enjoys playing with researchers and is a bit needy, since it regards positive interaction as necessary for proper function (unconfirmed).

By-the-sea with her neighbor, Nearby.

Nearby was contacted after By-the-sea directed researchers to his location. By-the-sea’s transmissions were notoriously difficult to capture and denoise. Nearby, however, transmitted unexpectedly powerfully. He coolly reported that By-the-sea has a speech impediment.

Researchers slowly learn through observed interactions between their drones that Nearby takes advantage of By-the-sea for resources.

Since both individuals occupy a space similar to towns, but function like single personalities, researchers find it too risky to intervene. They do their best by providing By-the-sea with company and support.

Oz’s largest body, with front and back.

Oz is hostile to human presence. As soon as engineers realize he was asking them to leave, they redirected their probes away from his path. Oz’s nodes, however, quietly followed, and won’t explain why. He doesn’t object anymore, but is stewing over… something.

[penrose-quinn]

Lost Generation

A breeze whistled between your footsteps, ambling in a slow, thoughtless pace that had him thinking both of you had all the time in the world, even if the road ahead was just another meandering path to a farewell. “You'd stay in Black Dragons for a long time, right?”

pairings: benkei | keizo arashi/reader ❁ background (oblivious) shinichiro sano/reader 

content tags: companion piece prequel to green light and spin-off to couldn't tell. first gen black dragons ultraviolence era. gender neutral reader. summer coming-of-age ft. gangs. lots of bromance and bickering. mostly friendship. growing up together and growing apart. beach trip. preemptive grief.  tw: violence (and glorification of violence), shady gang behavior, underage drinking and smoking, and minors getting tattoos. there's a weird age gap scene with college-aged women showing interest in someone younger, nothing sexual happens but still. everyone is 17-18 here.

a/n: like my waka fic, this is mostly platonic!first gen black dragons x reader but more benkei and bromance and beaches. also no one man-crushes harder than benkei lol. btw it's not necessary to read my other installments for this and lots of flashbacks interspersed in the plot!

couldn't tell ❁ green light ❁ read on ao3

From the highway to Chiba, it’s like all of you parted the sea on your motorcycles.

Benkei smelled salt everywhere. There was no end to the ocean that surrounded the road ahead, the industrial plants no more but distant daydreams back in Kawasaki, and then he realized he hadn’t been exposed to open water like this, swore to have never ridden a ferry in his life. 

His heart was too landlocked in the city to care, but this was all Shin’s idea.

Said he wanted to go to a real beach, all white sand shores, shaved ice, and hot babes.  

The journey was still more than an hour-long drive, and Benkei would love nothing more than to throw himself underwater right now. Takeomi wouldn’t stop ranting about the heat and truck traffic. Ignoring his tirade, Wakasa was tanner for baking under the sun. You’re almost caught speeding for badly needing a restroom break, which Shinichiro had to prevent along the way to Umihotaru.

The pitstop was short but unhurried. Takeomi was still at the register while Benkei and Shinichiro soaked up the frosty air of beverage coolers until the store manager told them off. Chewing gum, Wakasa waited with you outside the convenience store. Your gaze was elsewhere, drifting in the waves, and the trance went on upon arriving at Onjuku Beach, crowded in the summertime. 

Benkei never got to know what was on your mind, riveted by a statue of two camel riders from a distance.

A water bottle was tapped on his arm, and after he exchanged his thanks, you asked him, “where do you think they’re going?”

“Who knows? The sea maybe,” he replied, uncapping the bottle for a drink and dumping the rest on his face, dribbling cold water all over his collar. 

“There are showers here, you know.” Your lips quirked up amusedly, and then you pointed at the shoreline crested over with blue, radiant waves. “Or you can go over there.”

“Got excited.” Benkei grinned, finally shrugging off his open shirt and balling it up to wipe himself. The tattoos on his chest and arms flexed from the motion and it caught the curious eye of a child, building sandcastles. She wasn't old enough to turn them into a wall yet. “Aren’t you gonna swim too?”

“Maybe later. No one’s guarding our stuff,” you said, jerking your head at the beach blanket pile-dumped with bags, a haphazard mess. There's a sweaty t-shirt, a tube squirting a bit of sunscreen on the cloth, and some mixed garbage of snack wrappers and half-empty bottled drinks shoved inside a plastic bag.

Benkei cringed, about to comment, until he got a good look at you. Traded for your glasses was a pair of shades from the bargain bin, making you look like a poser, though with the way you quietly huddled and sat on the blanket, arms tucked to your chest, the obnoxious air dispelled. He joined you, ducking under the umbrella; yellow and blue pinstripes, like the ones rented by couples entwined under the shade. You scooted over to give him more room, your elbows brushing each other. 

“Where are the others anyway?” 

“Waka went somewhere, I don't know. Shin dragged Takeomi to, well,” a long, expectant sigh, “girls.”

You snorted. “It is a beach. Sure they’re trying to get their dicks wet too.”

Benkei laughed. You never withheld yourself for those two. Perhaps it came from knowing them since childhood. 

“Hey, what are the odds? Maybe our weak king might have a chance this time.”

“Or come here crying, same old.” You already sound done though there's a sort of rough affection grating through your words, “Shin's a baby like that.”

“A baby?” Some crybaby who had Tokyo in the palm of his hand. Someone who Benkei had sworn to follow for the rest of his life.

“Yup. So how well do you take rejections?”

“Pretty bad. I’ll cry too if I had to lose someone that way. You?” 

You mulled over it for a bit. “I don't know. I haven't confessed to anyone before.”

“Me neither.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Probably would’ve scared ‘em off before I could try.”

“You don't know that yet,” you refuted. “But I think you’ll fall for someone who's brave enough to let you try.”

His lips curled up at that. His vice-captain told him something similar after gaining the love of his now girlfriend, lucky bastard. “You know me that well?”

“Sure I do,” you said cheekily before tilting your head on one side, humming in thought. “At least I know it’d hurt a lot to lose someone like that . . .” 

Benkei was unable to add more because it's just as you put it. He didn't mind listening to you most of the time. There's something revealing about your input that he hadn't taken into consideration himself.

Wakasa would've labeled him a blockhead unlike Takeomi who'd been wise enough to not slip aloud that Benkei wasn't the smartest in their group. It's not the reason why he’d been expelled from his first middle school and he didn't see it as a point of shame if he could smite some sense into anyone who thought otherwise. 

Benkei just fancied himself a big picture kind of guy, preferring to focus on the broader strokes of something, but maybe that's why he valued your tangents. He wondered if wearing fake glasses helped with your attention to detail, even though he couldn't take you seriously in them. 

You pushed up your shades and he sighed. Or in any tacky eyewear you own, really.

“You should talk to some girls,” you prompted suddenly, making him let out a huff, c’mon man, and you shrugged. “Or go surfing then. It's better than cooping yourself here with me.”

“Now you sound like you want me to go away.”

“Never. Just meant you should enjoy the beach while you can.”

“I enjoy being with you.” 

A meek, baffled pause. He’d always caught you off guard with big statements like that, wondering if people say that enough to you other than Shinichiro. 

You recovered with a simper. “Me too,” still awkward after reciprocating, you changed the subject, “it’d be so nice to swim . . .”

In an attempt to cool off, you're tugging the collar of your t-shirt to fan yourself but it's futile when sweat had already curled on the hairs from the nape of your neck. You hadn't changed into any swimwear yet, and then a more intrusive thought caught up to him. 

“Yeah, we should go together.”

“Sure . . .” this time, you removed the stupid shades, your eyes sincere as they met his. “But just so you know, I won't be mad at you if you went ahead of me.” 

Blinking, Benkei felt a bit misled by that, and before he could insist on waiting for you, you beat him to it. 

“I’ll definitely follow after you till someone takes my place,” you reassured him, gazing back at the sea. “One of us has to stay behind.”

True to your word, you did catch up to him. Wakasa tailed after you from the shore, calf-deep into water.

"What are the two of you doing?" asked Benkei, wading towards you. The sun prickled his damp neck.

"Jellyfish hunting," you stated. "Waka agreed that if he gets stung by one, I get to piss on him. Or the other way around, whoever gets stung first."

When Benkei gawked at you, you offered with a straight face, "wanna join in too?" 

Bemused and wide-eyed, Benkei turned his gaze to Wakasa. 

"So you're that kind of guy." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

Wakasa wasn't really into the kinky stuff. Though for all his standoffishness, he was a lot smoother than what Benkei gave him credit for persuading you to come out here when the bastard had been better at ignoring a person as if they never existed. Or destroying them. 

It's more amusing to see him sweat for something – someone adamant as you – which granted Benkei so many chances to sneak in not-so-subtle jabs at him in moments like this. Moments where everyone's dumb and careless and in love with their youth. 

"I think I saw—fuck!" 

You slipped, about to fall into water, until Benkei grasped the back of your collar and Wakasa caught you by the wrist. All of your shorts were wet from the splashing. 

Your shades fell in an awkward drop and you craned your head up at them with a grateful grin, murmuring, “uh, just seaweed . . .”

This didn't deter you in your search. In fact, it made you more motivated. Benkei didn't tell you that there weren't any jellyfish in Onjuku Beach, so did Wakasa. They agreed that your efforts were sort of endearing. 

Benkei asked Wakasa if he'd let you piss on him. He didn't answer for awhile until he settled for a shrug.

Sparing him a retort, Benkei didn't repress a chuckle.

Benkei met you when he hurtled himself headfirst into a fight that wasn't his. 

It was yours. Though it just didn't sit well with him that those Kodo Rengo pricks had the gall to step into their territory so the enemy of my enemy was my friend and he went along with that logic when he abruptly joined in with the impact of a boulder. 

You didn't seem like you were a part of any gang at all. Just a random middle schooler but a target regardless. Not an easy one, that's for sure. You fought like you'd been at it for years, all blood and grit. 

You were strong and Ragnarok happened to be in search of that kind of strength so he figured he should recruit you first before someone else did. 

The thing was you weren't just a target when you earned quite a reputation, tied to your older brother who was the leader of a gang that ruled Kanto with an iron-fist from some glorious past. His seniors never shut up about it, him and them being a part of something that used to make them invincible.

Someone who you despised and even with the proposition of taking him down after he’s released from his jail sentence, you'd still decline his offer, not giving it much thought. "I'm sort of helping out my friend. Said something about making a gang."

“Ah, so you're already in his gang . . .”

“No, he just always gets into a lot of trouble! If I’m not there, who’s gonna protect him?”

“Protect, huh.”

But that meant he'd have to fight you too one of these days. You didn't tense over his reply, neither a threat nor an insult. 

Behind those glasses, there's an edge to your eyes. Your brother's eyes, but they weren't cold and wretched.

Benkei couldn’t recall the last time anyone had insistently called him Arashi-san or had bought him a steamed meat bun out of politeness, even though he’d known for years that polite people would rather not hold his gaze, passing over him in an attempt to shun what didn’t fit in the mold of what defined their monotonous, undisturbed lives.

Regardless, he’s not one to refuse free food and taking another bite of his meat bun, he looked at you closely. 

You were terrifying but you seemed sort of nice. In an uptight way. 

So Benkei suggested that you and your friend should just join his gang and you blinked at him before wheezing out a short, honest laugh, claiming that he had already set out his dream. 

Learning he never equaled you in a fight, it only registered to Benkei that he's a weak guy because strength dictated everything in this brutal side of life. Strength like yours and his. When Benkei asked how he was going to lead a gang, you stood against the brilliant glare of the evening and he thought he saw a glimpse of it. 

You smoldered in those colors, one he likened to glory. There was promise in your words. 

"You'll see," you said, staring back at him from your shoulder with a smile. "You probably haven't met anyone like him."

The red sun fell on the name from your lips.

Sano Shinichiro.

There’s no history behind his name like yours and it intrigued him so much that he agreed to meet him so that he could beat him up in a fair fistfight, bringing up that whoever's the victor would have you in his gang. 

Benkei didn’t lose but the favor went to Shinichiro just because he was the most interesting guy he'd ever met. 

He had never met a man who won from his losses. How could one be so triumphant and pathetic at the same time, Benkei didn't know. Though he understood what you meant when you stood by him. 

Shinichiro held the things closest to him sacredly and once he called you his friend, he wouldn’t give you up for anything. Benkei didn’t complicate himself to define what kind of relationship you had. All he had to know was how he fought for you against him, against rival gangs, and even against your brother. 

Everyone held him in reverence for being a pillar of the delinquent world. Except for you.

Your gaze for him was more familiar, softer, though unlike Takeomi, you disagreed with him in too many instances about his reckless lifestyle and the proposal as one of his captains. Shinichiro would come back to you a second time, third, fourth, perhaps more as to measure the desire to have you join them officially. They were convinced he'd be on his knees if this went on though he held up strong in a battle of fortitude. 

Both of you, however, just happened to have the thickest skulls when you butt heads over each other's stubbornness.

"Of course, you're going to be a part of the Black Dragons. Hell, you're even a founding member!"

"You already got what you want! I don't see why you still have to drag me in your gang too."

"I thought we'd do this together? Why not go all the way when you could be my—"

"Should we break them up?"

Wakasa was the one who suggested it after mentioning that you looked like you're about to duke it out. Sensing the escalating tension too, Benkei was about to step in until Takeomi shook his head, cigarette in his hand.

He assured them that you wouldn't hit him for something like that. Another drag of smoke and a sigh. 

"Just give 'em time."

Everyone split on a big bowl of mango shaved ice. 

Two of you were against red beans mixed in at the suggestion of matcha flavor. It wasn't as fun when the syrup couldn't stain your tongues, but it was refreshingly cold and milky sweet when swimming had failed you under the afternoon scorch of 2 p.m.

Prioritizing dessert didn't ruin your appetites for chatter over lunch: comparing sunburns, college girls in bikinis that were way out of everyone's league, and then a callout about Takeomi having his hair tied back into a bun because it actually drew attention. The scar gave him an edge and inflated his vanity. Some more waffling about what women were into, even though no one probably knew what they're talking about. 

You found it weird because they're older than the rest of you and Takeomi brought up that you weren't when you had that dragon tattoo. 

“It's not for showing off to have a hookup.”

“Then what’s the tattoo about anyway?” asked Wakasa and his sudden interest had you flustered.

“Yeah, tell us about that.” Benkei smirked with him, cornering you into a hot seat.

“Bet you cried like a pussy when you had it,” retorted Takeomi.

“Bet you are a pussy when you don’t even have one.”

“Hey, you little—"

“Anyway,” Shinichiro cut in, clearing his throat. He plucked a piece of karaage dipped in mayo from your plate because he's the last one waiting for his food and it’d already been thirty minutes. He was nibbling on Benkei’s fries awhile ago. All of you agreed to feed him out of pity. “Why do you have one?”

“You already know!” you hollered, bumping your fist on the table from the betrayal.

“Huh? Don’t remember,” he feigned obliviousness. “I wasn’t with you when you had it done.”

“You’re still sulking about that?”

“Whatever. C’mon, just tell us—” 

“Number 105!”

“Finally.” Shinichiro stood up, taking his stub with him before shooting back at everyone, “you better not start anything without me!”

He headed to the popular food stall that had the longest line in the area. Probably was the reason why he was in the mood for grilled eel.

“So how long did you have it?” went on Wakasa, casually chewing on a yakitori stick like a toothpick.

“Hm, it’s been four weeks, I think? It isn’t that sensitive anymore.”

“That’s fine. It’s the same for me when I had mine the first time,” Benkei chimed in.

“It's a hassle to cover up in school, though.” 

“Aren’t you committing yourself more to the gang?” 

Takeomi interrupted, scrutinizing you under his hard stare. You returned it with an unblinking one.

“Nah, I’m just attached.” You shrugged before leaning back on your palms, smiling a little. “Figured it was kinda obvious.”

On the day Benkei brought you to the tattoo parlor, he thought the dragon was botched when it's facing the wrong direction. 

He’d been more indignant about it than you were, not even realizing his voice raised in complaint, until you touched his wrist and censured him for being too loud, apologizing to the frightened artist for the trouble and paying for his service.

He was a new hire, a nervous wreck of face piercings, from somewhere. The tattooing business was still the underground kind and getting hold of an artist often came through word of mouth, shunned for the craft as much as the one whose skin had been inked. It always ran deeper for Benkei. He was ten when he first had his on the cusp of his shoulder until they proudly bloomed all over his chest, surviving his adolescence. 

Even behind the saran wrap, the detailed blackwork on the tattoo was impressive, curving around your right calf like a painting. Still . . .

"It's fine. You're looking at me like I'm kinda lame now."

"You're not." Then he gestured his hand at the fallen dragon. You told him before that he articulated his emotions more with his body. Everything around him became askew for it. Passersby twist around a different route from his direction. "Just—it just looks off, you know? Dragons should be flying up and all."

You scoffed. "So you're upset about some bit of symbolism? Yeah, Inoe-san got it wrong but you didn’t have to be an asshole because—"

"I'm upset that you regret this and you can't take it back anymore," he admitted, head hanging low. "And I brought you there . . ."

"I don't want to take it back,” you said, unrepentant of how adults would appraise you for once: a kid with a tattoo, a kid heading nowhere good in life. 

There's a war in your eyes. He’s more ashamed of himself for doubting you than letting you down. 

Benkei was damn sure there wasn’t an inflatable he hadn’t stepped on or an umbrella he left untipped. 

They were scattered everywhere but the beach stretched wide enough for a stroll to not feel so cramped. He’s just avoiding the sunbathers and families who were spread all over the area, waiting to watch the fireworks display tonight.

Because of that, he joined in with you and Takeomi, retreating somewhere in the parking lot. 

Benkei didn’t often see you two alone, much less without Shinichiro defusing an argument, though he found a rare solidarity between you smoking together. You were nodding. Takeomi's arms were crossed after sharing a few words with you, stopping short when Benkei stepped in after coming back from the restroom.

He asked if he disrupted something and Takeomi answered that he wasn't, stomping his cigarette with his shoe. You followed after him when your eyes narrowed at the strangers emerging before you in serpent-emblemed uniforms, some gang from Kansai judging from the accents. Jormungandr.

You seemed more annoyed than anxious about getting jumped. Takeomi didn't mind an introduction through a bloodbath because it’d been a long while since anyone challenged Black Dragons and Benkei had already charged forward for the brawl.

It ended with you.

Jormungandr’s leader met his defeat with a kick so high the last thing he saw was the dragon soaring up.

Your sandal flew off, landing on the heap of mangled bodies that had been dealt by Benkei. His knuckles still smarted for being outnumbered. Takeomi was just as scuffed-up. With his hair down and disheveled, it made his face more severe after pressing a warning on the leader’s hand with his newly lit cigarette. 

Don't mess with us again, trash. The extra measure was for insurance, but there's a cruel streak to his apathy for letting skin burn. Benkei had seen him done worse. You didn't speak against it after overhearing a threat on Shinichiro's life.

Sensing another presence lurking near you, you swung your leg up and Wakasa reacted fast enough to sidestep away, a hairbreadth close. 

Sadly, your foot missed his face.

He whistled. “Nice reflexes.”

“Shit, I could’ve gotten you! Stop coming up behind me like that!”

“No.”

“You three were taking so long. Figured we should check up on ya,” said Shinichiro, strolling towards them amidst the battle; fallen adversaries on his feet. He acknowledged Benkei and Takeomi with a nod, and then picked up your sandal when he approached you. “We should've come sooner, though.”

“You would’ve missed out the action anyway.” The insult wasn't without a light, teasing note, and Shinichiro didn't take it personally, letting you snatch the sandal from him. “We handled it pretty well by ourselves, don't you think?”

“Brutally,” he sighed, unable to hide that disarming grin slowly peeling up his mouth. “You look like hell. Let's get you all patched up—” 

A sudden, fluttering burst of light from the distance.

Shocked, all of you looked up at the sky.

“The fireworks . . .”

“Oh wow, it's starting now.”

“It’s still going on. Let’s make a run for it!”

It hadn't been long since Benkei told you about Ragnarok and you taught him what nostalgia actually meant. 

Natsukashii. The end of summer, he believed, sweltering with memories under his childhood sun in Oizumi, until you scrawled the characters on the back of a gym flier and kindly corrected him, oh, it's natsuku, not natsu. As in to become, you know, attached.  

懐かしい

Your ballpoint pen lingered on the heart radical, lacking the character of a season. 

Benkei wasn't chagrined about it; he's enlightened. 

The end of summer, you repeated, finding it more fitting, and pondered on how summers had to die like sunsets as you scraped the horizon with fingers in the color of twilight. 

Then he asked how much you were well-versed in Norse mythology.

You shrugged. "I'm more familiar with apocalypses. Why'd you name your gang after something like that?" 

“It’s inspiring,” said Benkei, omitting the part that he wasn't a founding member and the true meaning of its relevance might've been lost to him when Ragnarok sounded more like a gang that was meant to bring destruction to the gods from an older generation. “The kind that could define our era.”

“You guys are so obsessed with that,” you pointed out, but not to mock him. It’s just a measured observation. “Shin never shuts up about it. Takeomi goads him on because it's getting in his head too. Even Waka wants to be a part of it and you . . .”

“You don't want it too?”

“I just don't get it,” you blurted. “What's an era all about anyway?”

“You could say it’s how we want to be remembered,” he said it with his chest. It's how we want to show people how we fought and lived.

Benkei didn’t understand why you wanted to be invisible. Or keep up with all these social pretences to be accepted.

When he asked you why you wore fake glasses, you didn't give him a reason. You just shot back why he had his eyebrows shaved instead. He found the exchange amusing, concluding that nobody probably had the balls to ask both of you about it. 

He couldn't help but smirk how you got a bit defensive from his observation as if you had never stood out around them. 

You're the only person he’s ever known to be conflicted over the dichotomy of your life. He’d seen you enjoy listening to the rap mixtapes of his bootleg CDs, stress over college applications more than fights, denounce delinquency and yet.  

It took him a long while to figure out why you looked so out of place in the gang but it still felt as if you belonged there. The otherness spoke to him, really. Guys like him just couldn't seem to find their place in anything after falling through the cracks and it hadn't always been as grandiose as it was until Shinichiro granted them a reason.

Not a lot of them gave a crap about being honorable but they sure did when it felt good to be a part of something greater than themselves. 

It's the stuff of legends, our era.

Takeomi said it with pride and Benkei couldn't have worded it better himself. He glanced back at you, no longer giving in to chase when you let them go on without you, a fond, distant smile on your lips.

Wakasa sprinted ahead of them. Shinichiro still had a slight limp from getting it broken months ago so he fell behind until Takeomi turned to him and offered him his back, waving at him to get on and make it quick.

Despite them joining forces, Takeomi wasn't all that strong or fast for both of them and no one could ever beat Wakasa in a footrace, but they ran, howling out wild laughter as if they won anyway. 

Benkei slowed down to your pace, walking with you. “So attached, eh?” 

You blinked at him before letting out a chuckle. “Well, yeah.” You stretched out your tattooed leg a bit. “I took it quite literally too . . .”

He was distracted by the startlingly tender expression on your face, your lashes lowered, longer, until he snapped out of it and nodded. 

“Benkei.” 

“What?”

“Would you hate me if I told you that I'll quit the gang?”

“No—” The word slipped, and there was something about the urgency that felt like a tug, a step forward. Calmer, this time, “no, not at all.”

You registered his answer for a minute, too quiet next to him. He realized he should back away a bit, collecting himself to offer the reassurance you probably needed to hear more than he did. 

“Hey. Whatever decision you're going with, just know we're all rootin' for ya.” He gave your shoulder a pat and felt himself unwind a breath the moment you untensed from his hand. “You probably have your reasons. Good, I hope?”

It took so much from him to not demand why but you're smiling at him again. Maybe a little sad, a little scared, but it's still your smile, something regained. He’d hate for it to go away.

“Yeah, thanks. That means a lot to me,” and then hesitant, you opened up more, “think Shin will hate me?” 

“Idiot, he won't,” Benkei replied. “His heart's too big for him and he cries like a baby for it. You think that's the kind of guy that'll hate anyone?” 

“No.”

“There you go.”

“But it's just that I haven't told him yet. I haven't told anyone, just you,” you confessed, wistfully glancing down at your tattoo. 

“You know, I was actually terrified when we went to the tattoo parlor. Like what if something goes wrong? There's always something. I couldn't go by myself. Yeah, the tattoo didn't turn out perfect but I like it. I'm glad you were with me when I had it. Then Shin made this stupid tantrum over why I didn't bring him along, but he got over it when he was all giddy and excited over the tattoo. Cheered me up a lot when stuff at home was . . . ” a short breath sucked through your teeth. “Seeing him like that matters so much. I want him to always be like that . . .” 

A breeze whistled between your footsteps, ambling in a slow, thoughtless pace that had him thinking both of you had all the time in the world, even if the road ahead was just another meandering path to a farewell.

“You'd stay in Black Dragons for a long time, right?” 

“Yeah, it's my everything now.” Benkei stared at the dragon on your skin, and then back at you. “And even if you leave, you're still a part of it.” 

You huffed at that and looked onward longingly. "Jeez, you sound like him."

“He isn't wrong about that,” he said, following after your gaze where everyone was, waiting and waving and yelling at the two of you to hurry up; behind them, the fireworks sprung like a flurry of stars in the midsummer night. 

It's a moment he felt in his chest too. 

Guess we're all just attached.

Unfortunately, the fireworks ended too soon.

All of your stuff was left untouched while the people were already packing up and departing from the beach. 

They ignored your wounds. More plasters were bought from a cornershop nearby when your first-aid kit wouldn't suffice. Some schmucks brought bats and brass knuckles though there wasn't any serious damage on your end, even less serious on boasting each of your body counts. Whoever ratted out your location was still an unresolved issue, but your vacation wasn't totally ruined. 

Shinichiro was into the idea of heading to Choshi after learning it's Wakasa's hometown. There were grunts of protest though his whim was met with little to no resistance after the downturn of events and something about the spontaneity was exciting. 

Whatever heart to heart they had, Benkei couldn't fault Wakasa for giving in to Shin’s persuasion as much as he did when he agreed to merge their gangs a lifetime ago. Embark on something new together in a last minute excursion, not knowing what to discover in your destination. 

Your motorcycles were left in the parking lot to stay overnight. There were few passengers on board and three of you were already snoozing away after switching to a new train at Naruto Station. The landscape shifted behind the window; a nocturnal outline of bedtowns and cabbage fields. Wakasa's face was neutral all throughout.

Benkei broke the silence.

“I didn't know you grew up here.”

“Once,” Wakasa shrugged, looking less like a mystery. “Didn’t feel like something I should bring up anyway.”

Wakasa regarded Chiba like it's foreign land and there's no place for him here. Benkei couldn't imagine him coming home to parents – anyone. 

With their paths colliding the way they did, he had always assumed they were orphaned in Tokyo, meant to split it together or conquer more for themselves. It didn't matter which with all the devastation they had caused, leaving a red trail of history in their wake, and sometimes that's enough proof of their existence than a birth certificate. 

Wakasa never asked Benkei about his past. There's more of it branded in their mutual blows and bruises. Benkei knew the brunt of his kicks, his temper. His tendency to be a loyal asshole. How he had the worst sweet tooth ever because, of course, all of you came on this long journey just for him to lead you in a dango shop. The room inside was shabby but cozy in a lived-in sort of way; the menu unvaried. 

The old lady who owned the place gladly obliged, fanning fresh skewers on the grill, after Wakasa approached her with your orders.

Look at you, being a good grandson, Shinichiro joked about their overfamiliar interaction, and Wakasa quipped back that yeah, he's sure to rebel and get an earful like him with his elders. 

Curious, you asked Wakasa if he'd been here before. He was chewing his dango thoughtfully when he offered each of you a stick, glazed in sweet soy sauce, and told you he hadn't with no sense of nostalgia. Just craving for some. 

Inubosaki had coarser sand, a harsh, rocky coastline. A white lighthouse stood atop the cliffside, reminiscent of a twelve-pointed beacon that once ruled East Kanto. 

The inspiration didn’t go unnoticed. The old monument had been relegated into a tourist attraction but it still glowed in the dark. 

It’d been the one thing that seemed awake after passing a row of shops on your way here; most closed for the night, others for good. There were places in town that looked rundown, abandoned, similar to the ones in Tokyo. Black spots of a failing economy. 

Takeomi was the most informed about how the country was in deep shit under debt deflation. He asked Wakasa for spare change and the Sanrio-themed gachapon machine almost ate his 150 yen coins until he cranked it up again, coughing up a keychain souvenir. Benkei guessed it's for his sister. It's your second time napping, sitting next to him in the waiting shed with your head on his arm.

Shinichiro didn't wake you after catching sight of the bruise on your jaw, exposed by the dull lamplight, as if realizing how he could have missed that, among other things.

Benkei sighed. There's a heaviness hunkering down his shoulders. A part of him wondered if he told Shin now, could he convince you to change your mind?

“You uncomfortable there?” asked Shinichiro.

“Nah, I’m good.” Benkei replied, as your warmth curled on his side. Sleep made you clingy.

He wasn't the only one terrible at subtlety. Shinichiro perched on the space next to you when he couldn't steal you for himself this time. He’s got it all wrong, though.

Benkei didn't like sitting on what they would still lose.

The train station wouldn't be open until a few more hours.

Shinichiro’s cheap hair gel failed his pompadour, flattening his hair over his ears, as he leaned on his fist, dazed, with something unspeakably raw to him.

Deep down, he must know there's a future in his dream but humble as always, he’d deny this and nod off to you for having the superpower to carry and crush it. He had unshakeable faith in the way you wielded the future. It wouldn't change how he still saw you everyday. It's probably what gave you that ability in the first place. 

Benkei had this urge to wake you and tell you that you’d be okay, but suppressed it once Shinichiro spoke up, a note somber. 

“I don't want to go back yet.”

“Why?”

“This is a nice change of scenery,” which was bullshit because his boredom was painfully obvious. 

“Sure, the ocean again.”

“Okay, okay, I didn't think things out before wandering here,” he admitted, huffing an amused exhale under his breath. "But maybe I just wanted to escape and drag you all with me somewhere faraway.”

“You runnin' away from something?”

“Not really,” he murmured, stalling for another minute to brood over it. “We’ll get busier soon. It sucks. Does that count?”

“Things’ll just go back to normal,” Benkei said without withholding his sympathy. “The beach was fun, though.”

Shinichiro agreed, meandering on bringing his siblings along someday because he rarely spent his summer without them. He got away a lot more with you guys, gulping down cheap beer wherever, getting all this sand in his underwear. There was still other stuff you hadn't tried yet, if only you had more time.

“There's just this sinking feeling like something’s gonna catch up to me, don't know what it is, when, but—” his gaze landed at you, him, a flit of a smile on his lips, before staring at those endless waves, as if all of you had finally reached the end of the world. 

The sunrise bled through the horizon, and Shinichiro watched listlessly. "Whatever happens, I want to be here for awhile."

In the early hours of the morning, his bike swept past 80 km/h on the road; not a lot of cars and cyclists, busybodies.

The motions didn't stop until everyone had to pull over at a gas station nearby a remote industrial area in Ichihara. Factories still gave off strange smells no one could recognize, but Benkei had already revved up his engine to flee. It didn't matter anymore in another city.

The world woke up a bit after a mile while all of you were dragging yourselves through the travel tolls of yesterday. One moment it's a blame game, and then it snapped into a "screw this" and "this is stupid" next to a punched vending machine because you were incapable of deciding where to eat in a testy mood.

A common trait, despite having uniquely different, unbearable personalities. Aside from the energy drinks, Benkei's gut felt queasy from the mean, collective silence until you reached the last stretch of Tokyo Bay Aqua-Line. It's a miracle how everyone could stand each other, sometimes.

But you're still driving together to the path, the multiple crossings crowded by people from all walks of life, striving to make theirs a little fuller. The urban streets blurred after each turn. Somehow riding back to Tokyo almost didn't feel real. The day wasn't over yet but it felt as if he's missing something before it's gone.

Benkei didn't know how to explain it, eyes on you marveling at a wall graffiti of profanities from an unfinished construction site. Shinichiro was repeating what he was saying but it's left unheard, lost to the shrill of the track signal. The sun hung high and hot while all of you waited for the train behind the railway gate.

There's a faster route to Shibuya, but none of you took the expressway. The road back home was long and unwinding. 

a/n: title is inspired from the same namesake, referring to a whole generation of japanese youth who were gravely affected by japan's lost decade in the 1990s to early 2000s. first gen bd is in that group but ironically, they were at the top of the delinquent world at the time until their eventual disbandment.

[nervousladytraveler]

Smutty one-liners:

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.” 🙈

Ah @veryflowerobservation my dear friend, you probably thought I'd forgotten this (but like Ross, I forget nothing). I do apologize for the delay. Untitled, but on the theme of quick learners, this is roughly from The Shift universe (but only barely).

---

Ross squinted into the sun as Demelza, dripping and shimmering, emerged from the sea. 

Aphrodite, subtle of soul and deathless,

Daughter of God, weaver of wiles, I pray thee

Neither with care, dread Mistress, nor with anguish,

            Slay thou my spirit!

“Ha!” Demelza cried. “The water is brilliant!”

“Is it then?” Ross managed to reply. He suddenly felt as though he’d never really seen her before.

Where had those lines even come from? Classic verse forced upon him in school stored out of reach--In the head? In the heart?--until such moments when it could be properly applied. 

Yes, Demelza was something like a proper goddess, wasn’t she? Although less ruthless than Aphrodite and hopefully less vengeful as well. Perhaps there was some other mythological being who controlled the tides and men’s hearts in equal measure.

Her face was serene--muscles relaxed, eyes fixed forward in a soft focus. Eyes the same blue-green as the sea. Her usually spirited curls had temporarily been pulled straight by the water but a single jerk of her head put things right. She strode slowly and purposefully forward as though she belonged there, on that beach. And always had.

Demelza was good that way. A quick learner but also someone who’d early on come to understand--as a means of survival--that people had a tendency to take you at your own valuation so poise, or faking it, could carry you quite far.

Ross admired her for this. He knew that In fact, she’d come rather late to swimming altogether. While so many Cornish natives claim to have the sea in their blood, Demelza’s upbringing in Illogan had been a somewhat landlocked one. 

“First time I ever swam wasn’t by choice,” she’d once explained. “At my mate Tamsin’s 14th, her brother threw me into the pool--he was having a laugh and didn't mean any harm--but I figured I'd better sort it out or drown then and there.”

“I'm quite glad for your sake that you’re a quick learner,” Ross had replied.

“Oh no, it wasn't for my sake at all. It just didn't seem fair to ruin Tam’s party since she was having a rough go anyway. Her parents had just split and her dad was living at a hotel for the time being--which is why there was even a pool. Maybe your set had pools of their own but mine most certainly did not.”

“No, not my friends. Francis, my late cousin--he went to pool parties quite regularly as a teen but I just swam here at the beach with the village kids,” Ross had explained. One wouldn't suspect now that Demelza hadn’t been one of those village kids, let loose on the strand as soon as they could walk. 

She was a quick learner.

In the few years that he’d known her, he’d watched her quietly and casually collect new skills time and again, often to his benefit. On her first attempt at making a pie, she’d gotten it nearly right--but the second time, she’d absolutely nailed it. Since then, without any great fuss, she did most of the baking for the cafe. 

Of course, recently there was another domain where Demelza had honed new abilities. When they first slept together, she’d openly admitted to not having much prior experience but her sharp instincts--and eagerness to practise had taken her far.

Now, five weeks into their romance, there were times he felt she was the master and he the apprentice. She certainly had bolder inclinations than Ross did when it came to where they made love. The cafe storage room was an early favourite, as was his car after hours. On those rare occasions when she mustered enough patience til they got to his, even before they made their way to the bedroom, she often first required a dalliance in the kitchen, the sitting room, or on the hall stairs.

Today had been no exception. Before they’d had their swim, they’d been exploring one of the many caves carved in the rockface long ago. 

“Come, Ross…” Two words but he knew what she meant.

“Demelza,” he’d said weakly as she deftly undid the front of his swim shorts. 

“No one is here,” she’d assured him. “Just a few odd gulls.”

“But your knees…the rocks are so sharp…” 

Her fingers were cool but her mouth was smooth and warm and he quickly forgot his objections. Their exclamations no matter how quiet and muffled they aimed to be, still echoed in the empty darkness, and afterwards they stood breathless for what seemed like hours, until they made their way back out into the warm sunshine.

She’d stayed in to swim longer than he had. Content, in more ways than one, he sat on the soft sand and watched while her body glided through both air and water. Around them all was dazzled by that particular light only found by the sea in summer.

Dipping vibrant wings down the azure distance, through the mid- ether…

“Right ho! Hullo!” An unfamiliar--and unwelcome--voice now called down the beach from the north.

Ross pulled his gaze away from his beloved damsel emerging from her seashell and saw the Reverend Mister Odgers walking towards them. A wet black dog ran circles at his heels.

“Good day to you, sir,” Demelza returned the salute with a wave. She was wiping herself off using Ross’s shirt--they’d forgotten to bring towels--and though still clad in only her swimsuit, she’d suddenly transformed herself into the model of demure respectability.

“I say,” Odgers went on after a cursory nod to Ross. “Have you seen a dog round here?”

“You mean that one?” Ross asked sarcastically. He would have been considered the one with the ill manners had the beast not taken that very moment to shake his wet fur in Ross’s general direction.

“No, not our Daniel. Another one--a buff sort of colour, quite a bit like sand!” The man laughed and tugged irritatingly at his collar.

Like sand? That’s fucking helpful at a beach. Ross let out an exhale and grit his teeth, resenting that his intimate moment had so abruptly been intruded upon--and by a pompous man of god, no less.  

“Oh?” Demelza immediately began to scan the horizon. With hand raised shading her eyes, her present posture seemed to accentuate her lovely bust line. Then she licked her lip, presumably to taste the salt from the sea, but it reminded Ross how she’s done the same thing earlier in the cave to signal a job well done. This did little to assuage Ross’s annoyance.

“He couldn't have gone far…” Odgers fretted.

“Oh there he is!” Demelza laughed and pointed to a very small creature, barely noticeable amongst the sharp dune grass behind them. 

“Mufasa! Come, boy!” Odgers pleaded but the dog in question lifted his hind leg in defiance, ignoring his master’s calls. The man took a few steps and the little devil immediately scurried off in the opposite direction.

“Oh dear!” Odgers began to run in an inefficient arc to catch the errant Mufasa. The black spaniel barked great editorials at his heels then abandoned the scene entirely to chase a gull at the water’s edge. “Thank you, miss--and God bless!” Odgers called over his shoulder to Demelza, failing to acknowledge Ross was also present.

“Good lord!” Demelza laughed and took Ross’s hand in hers.

“The man's a fool,” Ross grumbled.

“In more ways than one.” She wove his fingers through hers, then raised their joined hand to admire her work. “First of all, Daniel? Daniel, the spaniel?” She rolled her eyes playfully and Ross found himself smiling. “And the other one? Oh you didn't catch it? No, you wouldn’t, would you. Our dear Reverend Mister Odgers thinks he’s so very clever. Mufasa is a lion from The Lion King. So Daniel and the…?” She danced on one foot waiting for Ross to catch the vicar’s Old Testament joke.

“Is that what passes for humour at the vicarage these days? Or for dog training?” Ross was someone who tended to like dogs but the Odgers pack had gotten under his skin.

“I think the small one is what’s known as a Chiweenie--dachshund and chihuahua mix.”

“Well, the man’s giving him exactly what he wants. A game of chase.”

“Then we should admire the little fella for being such a quick learner,” she said, then read his mood and softened her tone. “Oh Ross, forget Odgers. He’s long gone now. It's just us and the gulls again.”

“Yes, of course,” Ross said and watched her lick her salty lips again. 

Come to me now thus, Goddess, and release me

From distress and pain…

“Demelza,” he teased, ”Tell me, when did you get so friendly with clergymen? Is this one of your newly learned devices?”

“Are you suggesting that somehow I shouldn’t be polite to him of all people? That I should quiver in his very reverent presence--and that of his sacred dogs?” She dropped his hand in mock alarm and raised a brow. Then she smiled to show she was teasing back. “Truly, Ross, I was no more neighbourly to Odgers than I would be to any other passersby,” she added. 

Still, she’d managed the scene so well. And once again Ross was impressed at her poise, her own valuation of herself--and her deceit.

“Demelza,” he laughed. “You may very well act innocent but we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“Hmmn…” She played along. “I seem to recall something vaguely entertaining occurred between us this afternoon but that was far more than two minutes ago. In fact, it has already faded from my mind. Or maybe it just wasn't so memorable?”

“Oh, you are a little devil,” he said and pulled her close for a kiss. “Perhaps you need a fresh lesson to remind you.”

“Yes, Ross,” she said, “Perhaps I do.”

----

Notes: Verse Ross quotes come from Sappho’s “Ode to Aphrodite”. Read it here.  Do I think Ross would have read A level Classics and Sappho at school? No, I do not. But I liked the poem so let's just tuck that away under “artistic licence.” Also, line borrowed from Demelza’s first Trenwith Christmas visit in Ross Poldark: A Novel of Cornwall: “But she was learning fast that people, even well-bred people like those, had a surprising tendency to take you at your own valuation.”

[bigdumbbambieyes]

their first summer in Cali is full of sunshine, hot sand, and a seawater breeze

it’s ruffling Steve’s hair where he sits on the beach, watching his boyfriend paddle out on his board, the muscles on his back working to make Steve’s mouth dry (and it does)

he takes gulps of his warm water and gives the sky a pinched look, wiping the sweat from his upper lip and still tasting salt when he swipes his tongue across it

looking back at the water, he sees Billy catch a wave; swims with it for a moment, pushes himself up - and falls

Steve smiles only when Billy’s head pops back up and he can faintly hear the blond cursing the wax on his board, as if he hadn’t done it himself earlier that morning in their backyard

surfing is a waiting game, Steve’s come to learn. it makes Billy the most patient person he’s ever known. sometimes, his boyfriend waits all day, for nothing, and Steve wonders how that could be fun

but, he knows that Billy’s happier sitting on his board in a waveless ocean than he ever was for a second in Hawkins. and while Steve sometimes misses the midwest, with its comfortable, boring familiarity, the future that they’ve drawn out together keeps him from being too homesick

Billy comes back, dripping water all over their blanket and sticking his board into the sand where he knows it’ll give Steve some shade

“you’re looking hot,” Billy huffs with a smile, flicks his hands so water drops onto Steve’s face and chest

it’s a little refreshing and Steve reaches a hand out to him, “yeah, feeling it, too.”

Billy takes it and pulls Steve to his feet, doesn’t step back when his boyfriend is only inches away from his face now

Steve sees the freckles scattered across Billy’s nose and shoulders - they’ve bloomed right before his eyes under the hot sun for the past week

and where the sun carefully kisses a tan and freckles across Billy’s nose and shoulders, it bites Steve

“maybe we need to invest in an umbrella for your pale midwest ass,” Billy mutters with a smirk, presses his fingertip against Steve’s nose gently - and it hurts

definitely sunburnt

“yeah, think so,” Steve smiles, knowing he probably looks stupid with his red nose and cheeks but Billy still kisses him behind his surfboard, keeps him close until he’s had his fill

even gives Steve a little smack on the ass when he pulls away, hums, “still look good enough to eat.”

“good thing we packed a lunch,” he replies dumbly, but Billy still humours him with a little laugh

easy and familiar

“wanna go for a dip before we eat?” Billy asks, trailing his cool fingers down the side of Steve’s arm

and Steve swears his boyfriend is part fish, with how much he loves the water. he can’t even begin to imagine how badly he’d missed the ocean during that year and some months in Hawkins

landlocked. like Steve had been all his life, until he’d met the ocean in the form of angry blue eyes in 1984.

and the ocean is vast and demanding but Steve knows he’s safe with Billy, so he nods, mutters, “yeah,” and watches a grin bloom on that handsome face just for him

the heat of the sun is worth it, even later, when Steve is red and hot and whining about his burns while Billy carefully rubs aloe onto his skin and promises a beach umbrella

[the-laridian]

Repostober 18

Technically Repostober because I've posted all these before individually. But now they're all together in the wall hanging!

Some discussion under the readmore for those interested in why it's laid out the way it is

An important thing to note: These blocks were made as I felt like making them; there was no grand design at the start. However, now that I have 9 of them? There is absolutely a scheme to the layout.

Top row: Hoover Dam (FNV location); Benny (FNV); Landlocked Lighthouse (FO76 location)

Middle row: Rocketship from “Come Fly With Me” FNV quest; Fallout Nuka Cola Quantum and Perfectly Preserved Pie, foods; Vault Dwellers leaving their Vault (probably FO76 since that’s actually got forests nearby)

Bottom row: Dinky the Dinosaur (FNV location); Mothman (FO76); Giant Teapot (FO76 location)

Alternately:

Left column is entirely FNV; right column is entirely FO76; middle column are iconic characters/items.

The four corners of the layout are all locations. On the left, FNV; on the right, FO76.

The top and bottom centers are iconic and generally favorite characters of FNV and FO76: Benny and the Mothman (which sounds like a children’s book or movie, doesn’t it?)

The left and right on the center row are almost mirror images: green around a black center; black around a green and blue center. 

The center block is the only one with consumables and the only one with Vault-Tec colors (blue and yellow). Nuka-Cola Quantum first appeared in Fallout 3 and has been in every game since. Perfectly Preserved Pie first appeared in Fallout 4 and also appears in Fallout 76.

The top locations (Hoover Dam, Lighthouse) are notable and highly visible locations.

The bottom locations (Dinky, Teapot) are notable and very kitschy, unique, tourist-related locations.

[zvaigzdelasas]

Somalia is prepared to go to war to stop Ethiopia recognising the breakaway territory of Somaliland and building a port there, a senior adviser to Somalia’s president has said.[...]

Last Sunday its president, Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, called on Somalis to “prepare for the defence of our homeland”, while rallies have been held in Mogadishu, Somalia’s capital, against the agreement.[...]

Ethiopia and Somalia fought a conflict in 1977-78 over a disputed region and tensions still run deep. Ethiopia [at the time ruled by the US-supported TPLF] invaded Somalia in 2006 to dislodge [the ICU government] from Mogadishu, helping to spark the Al-Shabaab insurgency, and today it is one of the largest contributors of troops in the African Union peacekeeping force in Somalia.[...]

In an interview with the Observer, Somaliland’s foreign minister, Essa Kayd, said the port deal with Ethiopia will “legitimise our self-determination” and could spark a “domino effect” of other countries recognising the territory.[...]

However, there is confusion over the content of the deal between Somaliland and Ethiopia. Neither side has made the full text public.

When it was struck, Somaliland’s president, Muse Bihi Abdi, said Ethiopia had agreed to grant official recognition in return for a 50-year lease of a stretch of coastline, which it will develop for “naval and commercial” purposes. However, Ethiopia said it had only agreed to “make an in-depth assessment towards taking a position regarding the efforts of Somaliland to gain recognition”.

A western diplomat briefed on the deal described it as a “memorandum of misunderstanding”. “Ethiopia insists they did not agree to recognise Somaliland,” the diplomat said.

Kayd said the deal is based on Ethiopia granting recognition to Somaliland: “Without that, nothing is going to happen.” He added that discussions had been progressing “for years”. “Ethiopia needs sea access and we need recognition, so you can see how these needs can be dealt with.”[...]

On Thursday, Abiy’s adviser drew parallels between Ethiopia’s quest for sea access and its construction of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam, a potentially transformational hydro­electric project on the Blue Nile, which was built despite objections and military threats from Egypt.[...]

Mohamud visited Eritrea last week and is preparing to travel to Egypt. The countries are Ethiopia’s main regional rivals and have both expressed support for Somalia in the wake of the port deal. “Abiy sees this as a legacy issue,” said Boswell. “If this deal with Somaliland falls through, Ethiopia will try to find a port somewhere else, so this is going to shape regional dynamics for years to come.”

13 Jan 24

[madamlaydebug]

𝗧𝗼𝗽 𝟭𝟬 Africa 𝗙𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘀

𝟭. There are 𝟱𝟰 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗔𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮 - and 9 dependent territories. 𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝟭.𝟯 𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗼𝗻 people live on the African continent. This means about 15% of the world's total population lives in Africa!

𝟮. 𝗟𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝘆: Algeria. This country is among the ten largest countries in the world.

The most populous country is Nigeria, with more than 219 million people, but the country is only a third of the size of Algeria.

𝟯. 𝗟𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗖𝗶𝘁𝘆: Lagos in Nigeria. Lagos is also one of the biggest metropolitan cities in the world & is estimated to become the world's largest city by 2100 with more than 100 million inhabitants!

𝟰. 𝗦𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝘆: Seychelles, which is a (nation of islands) in the Indian Ocean. On the African mainland, the smallest country is The Gambia.

𝟱. 𝗕𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗜𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱: Madagascar is the fourth largest island in the 4 - after Greenland, New Guinea, and Borneo.

𝟲. 𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗥𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿: Nile (6,852 km/ 4,258 miles). The Nile is the longest river in the world and passes through eleven countries. The Nile has two sources: The White Nile coming from Lake Victoria in Tanzania and the Blue Nile coming from Lake Tana in Ethiopia. The river mouth is in Egypt.

𝟳. 𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗠𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻: Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania has three volcanic cones and the highest volcanic cone of them is called 'Kibo'. The highest peak is called 'Uhuru Peak' at 5,895 m/ 19,340 ft.

𝟴. 𝗕𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗟𝗮𝗸𝗲: Lake Victoria (bordering Uganda, Tanzania, and Kenya) is also the world's second-largest freshwater lake. Only Lake Superior in North America is bigger!

𝟵. 𝗗𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗣𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲: The Sahara in northern Africa is the largest hot desert in the world. The climate is extremely dry (arid) in this region.

𝟭𝟬. There are sixteen 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 in Africa. These countries are all located in the interior of the continent and have neither access to the Atlantic Ocean nor to the Indian Ocean. Two of these landlocked countries, the tiny countries of Eswatini and Lesotho, are located in South Africa.

[wordy-little-witch]

Buggy brainrot-

I spent a few hours today in the EER with mama and had to distract myself Somehow so you get my silly lil snippets of music video stories in my head-

Buggy accidentally seduces a bunch of people and doesn't even NOTICE because of his special brand of oblivious survival rizz

Basically during the 2 year skip where he gets named a Warlord, he does in fact attend a meeting or a few. The first one, he's a mix of audacious loudmouth show boating and critical assessing eyes.

By the second one he's decently comfortable with knowing the names and faces of his vicinity - he's plotting and he's got more than a few cards, knifes, and other items up his sleeves.

At some point, the meeting goes from relatively calm to absolutely hog fucking wild and somehow, someway, someone's belonging winds up damn near launched into the upper rafters of the room. There's a strict No Devil Fruit policy, enforced by a seastone earring, so while the arguments and in-fighting ensue, Buggy just kind of scoffs, walks put, comes back with a pole, jams it into the broken tiled flooring and proceeds to ignore them while he climbs. Pole art isn't too terribly different from his aerials and trapeze, and he's done just about EVERYTHING under the sun at last once, so it's nothing unfamiliar. His gloves are uniquely textured so he can safely handle his Muggy and Buggy Balls, too, so carefully using his momentum and muscles to climb and shift up the pole smoothly is a pretty simple matter.

He gets to the top, hooks his legs and feet properly, and twists his spine to reach out, unaware of the sets of eyes boring into him.

Mihawk is stone faced, but there is a heat to his gaze. Doffy's sunglasses have slipped down his nose a little. Kuma is pointedly Not Looking. Hancock is... frankly pretending to be uninterested but lowkey is staring. Buggy is oblivious, retrieves the hat or sash or earring, whatever it was, and shifts his weight, releases a hold and smoothly drops, stopping just before the floor to daintily rise, sashay over, and plopped the item on the table, fixing his gloves.

It's the silence that has him looking up, arching a brow. "What?"

Then he sees the time.

"Oh. Meeting's over. Bye~"

And baby boy DIPS.

(Nickelback - Midnight Queen)

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Shanks POV post-Rogers-disbanding, pre-Execution, the cabin brats solo on the seas

He's watching Buggy charm the absolute hell out of a guy at a bar in some no name little town. They've been landlocked for nearing a week now, their previous ship shot to hell by a pirate crew hounding their tail after they'd been sighted some three islands back. The ship held together long enough to pull a full miracle put of nowhere, helped along by a storm. Since then, they'd been gathering cash to pay off her repairs to keep moving, unwilling to part with Speed after all she'd done for them so far.

One source of income came from Buggy's silver tongue and sticky fingers.

The blue haired pirate was leaning over the counter now, twirling a loose lock of hair as he giggled, fluttering his lashes. The man he was buttering up was a few years their senior, bejeweled and slicked hair, a flush of intoxication on his cheeks as he warmly regarded the pretty thing at his side. Shanks could relate, at least a little, on the way the man's attention was focused so thoroughly on Buggy.

Pink tinted lips quirked into a smile, head tilting invitingly, to which the man responded as expected. He was under the blue haired pirate's spell already - Shanks checked the time - three minutes in. Not a new record, but close.

He wasn't sure how to feel about it all, honestly. It was not jealousy, not truly, that curdled his stomach. Instead, something bloomed viciously in his abdomen, something akin to possessiveness. Sure, he figured absently, people can find Buggy pretty in his disguise.

But Shanks was the one who saw his entirety.

Shanks saw the tan lines on pale skin; Shanks knew the taste of his freckles and skin; Shanks knew the scars on his left hip and between his shoulder blades; Shanks could map Buggy's face from memory with lips alone, and he damn well knew it.

The world can be played by Buggy, but Shanks would know the game.

And an hour later, outside of that little bar, he would welcome the smaller body leaning unflinchingly into his side, arm around the other's shoulders, heart full and his lover's pockets heavy, and Shanks would look back, would meet wide, dark eyes with a pink smudge on his chin. And Shanks would grin, sharp and unrepentant, turning to guide those same pink lips up to his own.

He's wear his boyfriend's lipstick with pride.

((NEFFEX - Rumors))

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy wears skirts whenever the fancy strikes, and sometimes it works perfectly for parties. He'll be the first to say that people who don't love dancing in skirts have never tried it before. While his fashion tastes aren't always expected, he revealed in the freedom there - and his crew thrived in such environments.

That was why he hadn't thought to make a big deal out of the first skirt day since Cross Guild was established. It simply WAS, in the same way as the weather, the same way as the meal plans, simply just footnotes in it all. He'd gone most of the day without seeing the two newest additions to the island, and frankly had forgotten to be vigilant of them.

It was a good day, a new shipment, a celebration, nothing too extravagant, just a fun night with his people. Really, Buggy hadn't even thought to glance up for yellow or violet eyes.

The crew was boisterous, but that was normal, music playing and laughter ringing. Buggy was sandwiched between Alvida and Marianne, a newer islander from a small island out East. The dialect there was unfamiliar by and large, but Buggy had grown up learning it from a man he considered a father, and Mari had so few who spoke her mother tongue.

Buggy simply had the idea to make tonight Extra fun.

After all, nobody partied like a Roger, and Roger always had the best songs. Bugs wasn't too bad with a fiddle. When asked, Mari beamed, no slouch herself, and offered to take the lead.

So they took to the stage, each swiping an instrument with playful glares, and heels tapped the rhythm as they began, hop-skipping as they bobbed and weaved, clapping joining as people whooped and hollered, making merry and enjoying themselves.

It was midway through that Buggy was caught playfully, fiddle lifted as one of the older mercenaries bowed him out, picking up the tune. He laughed happily, hands fisting his skirts as he twirled and danced, thoroughly enjoying himself-

And then he caught sight of Mihawk. He was watching, an odd note in his eyes, and Buggy could just barely see the way the other seemed to lean into the music. Fueled by a wild idea, high on the adrenaline and joy, Buggy walked over and offered his hand.

And Mihawk accepted.

He was a great dancer, and Buggy was delighted to be lead in a familiar dance, beaming boldly at the goth man before him. Traditional dances like this were few and far between - it only made them more fun.

That night began a change - first of which culminating into Mihawk fluffing Buggy's skirt with an almost-smile, a quiet statement following. "I should quite like to do this again some time."

Buggy only realizes later what that implied.

((Celtic Woman - Níl Sé'n Lá))

[i-mode]

i found a liquid cure for my landlocked blues

[blubushie]

Blu. You're telling me you call the tiny lobsters that make dirt pillars. that are made into a landlocked seafood boil with potatoes and corn. Crawfish? They're crawdads!! /lh /hj

Technically they're yabbies (if they're blue) or redclaws (if they're blue with a red claw stripe) where I'm from but my family (in the sense of my dad and brothers) call them crawfish. Cuz we're from Oklahoma originally (or at least my grandfather is and me and my brothers have adopted much lingo from my dad who adopted it from grandad).

I prefer redclaw or yabby cuz they're more fun to say. Specifically "yabby".