#badou.01

[wishpsynergy]

“You should be more careful, that injury looked terrible, if I may say.” The light blue in her hands ceased, and with that the bruise was gone. Even so, she wouldn’t stay back and do nothing. “At the very least it wasn’t nothing too bad, but still, if not treated well it can be terrible for you.”

                                     / @baddestdangerboy​❅ /

[ariavedercii]

with what meager funds he had -- unfortunate circumstance of this world -- he buys himself two slices of pizza. one is in his hand, eating as he walks; the other is in the paper bag, saved for when he finishes his first slice. it’s been a while since he could eat and taste to this full extent, and bucciarati isn’t one to pass up any opportunity, no matter how dubious in nature. 

he takes a bite of the slice fresh from the oven. it’s not as delicious as the ones from home -- made with love and care by passionate chefs, but it will do until he finds better. before he could take another bite, the smell of cigarettes draws his attention, stealing it away from the pizza in front of him. nearby is a young, lanky boy staring at the pizza in his hands, the cigarette being inhaled as if it can replace the deliciousness of a fresh slice. 

“i have an extra slice of pizza if you’re hungry,” bucciarati says, lifting up the greasy paper bag for the boy to see. “you can have it if you want.” 

                       @baddestdangerboy​   ( s. c )

[moonlightwaltzes]

[ @baddestdangerboy ]

─ ✦;     “Oh, do you know this place?” Primrose points out at a stall, amidst the crowd of the boardwalk. She seemed to shine underneath the moonlight of a summer night but the brunette spoke with the incredulousness of a one-time tourist mixed with the grace of a lady of breed - if those ever existed in Spirale. “Is this some kind of festival?” 

[starlitspy]

             ❝ @baddestdangerboy​​ ——— ★ !

        from a small distance, anya looks at the pole of a boy. he doesn’t look that old, but at the same time, he looks aged and... 

        “scruffy!” 

         she speak her mind, calling the boy by the name of her pa’s friend who would come over to help pa for his many missions. and, as if to make sure the boy knows she is referring to him, she even points at him with her fingers, her eyes fixed on his appearance. 

        “... and scruffy stinks.”

         she scrunches up her nose, unhappy with the smell of days old cigarettes mixed with fresh cigarettes. it elicits unwanted memories of a childhood before ma and pa. 

         encouraged by an unknown force, she walks up to scruffy, looking up at him and... offers a peanut as a bribe. 

        “don’t smoke, have a peanut instead.”