#and then i get to VIBE for spring quarter

[starstruckodysseys]

THE EVIL (senior presentation) HAS BEEN DEFEATED

[fandomfablesunleashed]

Out in the Open

Law x reader (she/her) ft. Heart Pirates

Part of the Polar Tang Chronicles but can be read as a standalone! (They're all just various one-shots featuring the Reader, Law, and the Heart Pirates)

Summary: Your crew discovered that you and Law are closer than you seemed when the two of you stumbled out disheveled of his quarters one morning due to the ship’s alarm. After the battle, Law left, leaving you to endure the crew’s relentless teasing—which eventually escalated a bit too far.

Tags: suggestive, obvious mentions of sex (but no smut), nudity, hickies mentioned, swearing, teasing, kinda crack, a bit angsty

Words: 6k

Notes: I had a lot of fun writing that one! I considered using it for a longer fanfic, but the one I’m currently working on (which will take a while to complete) doesn’t quite match this vibe. Still, I’m thinking about doing more one-shots with this kind of atmosphere—just some daily life moments with Reader, Law, and the Heart Pirates. I already have outlines for two: one where Penguin and Shachi accidentally walk in on Reader and Law, and another where Reader gets tipsy with Ikakku (I'm more than open to your suggestions)

English is not my first language

Masterlist

You woke up, nestled under the covers and enjoying a morning of quiet bliss. You snuggled closer to the warm body next to you. Law. 

“Morning,” he rasped, kissing your collarbone tenderly.

You hummed happily in response, exposing your neck to him, and he quickly took advantage and started putting his lips all over it. His hands moved to explore your naked skin slowly. You tilted your head to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. You both made out lazily, taking your time to relish one another. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of quiet moans and sighs, passion building with every touch. Lost in the sensations, you were completely oblivious to the world outside your small haven. 

Then, the sudden blaring of the alarm shattered the peaceful atmosphere. You both jolted upright, the reality of the situation crashing down on you like a bucket of cold water. The moment of intimacy was gone, replaced by an urgent need to spring into action.

You and Law hurried out of the captain's lodgings, your attires randomly assembled of whatever clothes had been within reach. You couldn't take the time to look presentable; the ship's alarm was a call to action, and you had to respond quickly. 

As you stepped into the hallway, Law's expression was grim; his mind already focused on the impending danger. You took your gaze from him, and you regretted it immediately as you found yourself face to face with a few of the crew members. Their eyes darted between Law and you, taking in your disheveled state, and a murmur of surprise and recognition rippled through the group. 

Law clenched his jaw, cursing silently as he realized your secret was out. With a stern glare, he stepped forward, taking charge of the situation.

“Alright, listen up! We don't have time to waste ogling. We've got a dangerous situation on our hands, and we need to spring into action now.” 

Law's voice cut through the commotion, commanding and resolute, as he issued orders to prepare for battle. The air was charged with tension as the submarine broke the surface, and without hesitation, you leapt onto the deck alongside your crewmates.

As the ships closed in, the sounds of battle began to swell. The creak of wood, the sharp clang of blades, and the guttural cries of the enemy pirates filled the air. They swarmed over the rails, swords, and other weapons gleaming as they poured onto the deck.

Law stood at the helm, calm and focused, his sharp gaze tracking every movement below. You stood beside him, gripping your weapon tightly, a determined edge in your eyes. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours.

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

With that, you plunged into the chaos.

The Heart Pirates fought with fierce determination, refusing to give an inch to the invaders. Swords clashed, bodies collided, and the deck became a storm of violence. Law, as always, took the lead, enforcing his Devil Fruit power and cutting through the most dangerous foes with a precision that left no room for error.

By the time the battle ended, the enemy was in full retreat, their ship disappearing over the horizon. Slowly, the commotion on the deck eased, and cheers broke out. The crew’s voices rose together, celebrating their victory as they let the weight of the battle fall away.

“You okay?” Law asked, standing next to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, a weary smile curving on your lips. “You?”

“I'm…  fine,” He reached out a hand, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “You fought well,” he murmured quietly, his eyes searching yours. 

A sudden change in the air made him stiffen. He became acutely aware of the crew’s eyes on you both—the knowing smirks, the exchanged glances, the not-so-subtle winks. He shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing. 

Clearing his throat, he straightened, his usual composure snapping back into place. “Alright, everyone. You did well,” Law said, his voice firm and commanding once more. “Let's get this mess cleaned up, and everyone back to their duties.” And just like that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

You were used to the attention and the rumors that swirled about Law and you. Over time, you had learned to ignore them, to let the speculation roll off your back. But after being caught in a compromising position earlier, you felt awkward and exposed. A pang of irritation flared as Law disappeared below deck, leaving you to the inevitable onslaught of teasing remarks from the crew. You understood his need for privacy, but it still stung a little that he had left you there to deal with the crew's prodding alone.

“So… how do you feel about the captain?” Sachi asked with a smirk. 

“That he is being an ass,” you muttered angrily, starting to clean up, hoping it would allow you to leave soon.

The crewmates snickered at your insult.

“Damn,” Penguin remarked with a grin. “It's the first time I've heard someone call the captain an ass and live to tell the tale.”

“I guess being the captain’s lover has its perks. You can get away with more than most.”

You bristled at that comment. Law was a strict captain, and you knew that others respected him. Being able to call him an 'ass' and getting away with it did feel satisfying, but you certainly didn’t appreciate the implication that whatever you had with Law granted you special privileges.

You felt exhausted, and you didn't have the energy to argue with them. Instead, you let out a weary sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly as you snapped back at the crew member who had spoken. “Can you just shut up and do your job?” You felt hot and embarrassed as you unzipped your hoodie a bit, looking around to busy yourself with something. 

The crew members laughed at your response, clearly enjoying the chance to tease even more. 

“Oh, is that something you told the captain this morning, too?” someone immediately jibed.

Your frustration boiled to the surface. “You guys suck.”

But as soon as the words left your mouth, Penguin quipped back, “Not as good as the captain on your neck this morning.”

You froze, your eyes widening in shock, and your hand instinctively reached up to touch your neck, where Law had indeed spent a lot of time just this morning. You hadn't even had a chance to look in the mirror yet, and now you realized that unzipping your hoodie, or actually Law hoodie, which you noted with a mental curse now, was a wrong move.

Ikkaku cast you a sympathetic glance. “Yeah, we can see those hickies,” she noted with a wry smile.

“We would have to be damn blind not to notice them.” Shachi instantly added.

Penguin grinned cheekily and chimed in. “Who knew Captain was such a sucker.” 

The crew members continued their teasing, their jokes, and comments, escalating with every word. You felt as if you were drowning in a sea of ribbing, and you just couldn't take it any longer. You spun around and stalked away, leaving the laughing crew behind.

As you stormed off, you overheard a puzzled Bepo comment, “I don't know why everyone is making a big deal out of this. She's been staying with the captain for months now.”

“What?!”

“You didn't know that?” 

“None of us did!”

You sought sanctuary in your and Ikkaku's room, isolating yourself from the rest of the crew for the remainder of the day. Various crew members came by, attempting to apologize through the door, but you refused to speak to anyone but Ikkaku.

You heard their voices through the door, their tones ranging from apologetic to pleading. 

“Oh, come on, we were just teasing.” 

“We're happy for you, really.” 

“Come out, will you?” 

“We're sorry, okay?”

You were not the only one avoiding everyone. Law was also absent, and nobody managed to catch a glimpse of him. The crew was left wondering how to mend the situation, and after a while, they came to a consensus. Someone needed to speak to Law and try to smooth things over.

And that's how Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin, Law's longest serving crewmates, and closest friends, found themselves standing outside his room. Summoning his courage, Bepo finally raised a trembling paw and struck the door with a soft, tentative knock.

There was a pause before Law's voice echoed through, a grumpy and dismissive, “I'm busy.”

The trio exchanged nervous glances, their resolve faltering for only a moment before Bepo mustered his courage once more. “We need to talk to you, captain. It's important.”

Another moment of silence followed, and then they heard Law's resigned grunt. “Fine. Come in.”

They pushed open the door cautiously, their gazes darting nervously around the room. Law leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in mild irritation. “Everything alright?”

Penguin spoke up hesitantly. “No, not really,” he began. “I mean, the ship is fine, and we're not being attacked, but there's something else…”

“What? Just say it.”

Shachi rolled his eyes. “Come on, Captain, we need to talk about what happened this morning.”

Law immediately rejected the notion. “No, we don't,” he said, his shoulders tensing, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, we do, and you're gonna listen to us.” Undeterred by Law's expression, he continued, “You shouldn't have just left her alone with us after a fight.”

Law remained impassive, his voice cool and matter-of-fact. “I had to take care of something, and I didn't think I was needed there,” he reiterated. “You guys were supposed to clean, and I had other matters to attend to.”

Penguin chimed in, his expression slightly sheepish. “Yeah, you were… You left after we all knew what happened in the morning, so of course we turned to  We teased her, and I guess we took it a bit too far.”

Law clenched his jaw. He didn't need a lecture on how to handle his life, and he definitely didn't appreciate his crew sticking their noses in his business.

But the trio wasn't finished yet. Bepo's worried gaze met Law's, his tone earnest as he added, “She didn't take it well, Captain. She locked herself in her room.”

Law's voice remained steady, feigning indifference as he asked, “So you want me to punish her for skipping out on her chores?”

Gasps of disbelief erupted from the trio.

“What, no!” Shachi barked. “Are you insane?”

“Yeah! What is wrong with you?” Penguin added, his tone incredulous.

Bepo took a deep breath, trying to reason. “You need to talk to her, Captain. And to us—your crew.”

Law's reply was curt and final. “It’s a private matter.”

Penguin wasn’t having it. “No, it’s not. Not anymore. But the crew’s okay with that—we’ve talked about it.”

Shachi nodded, his tone firm. “More than fine with it. We know you’ve been worried about what we’d think. But here’s the thing: we’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Penguin pitched in. “You’ve been dancing around each other for too long.”

“And honestly? It was getting annoying,” Shachi added.

Bepo’s voice softened, but his words carried weight. “We want you to know we support you, Captain.”

Law blinked, their bluntness catching him off guard. Despite their sincerity, he still hesitated. “Is that so?”

The trio nodded in unison, their expressions hopeful.

Shachi stepped forward, crossing his arms as he locked eyes with Law. “Well, it needed to be said,” he stated firmly. “We know how you are, Captain. You could sit here for weeks if we let you. But we can’t let her suffer any longer.”

Law repeated, almost incredulously, “Suffer?”

Shachi shrugged apologetically. “We couldn’t speak to her personally,” he admitted, glancing toward the others. “But Ikkaku told us she’s obviously humiliated—not just by us, but by you, too.”

“You just left her there,” Penguin added, his tone stained with guilt as he stepped closer. “And you haven’t spoken to her since. She thinks you’re ashamed of—”

“Of course I’m ashamed,” Law interrupted sharply, sitting forward as his jaw tightened even more. “That should have never happened. You shouldn’t have seen us like that.” 

Penguin picked up his sentence. “No, she thinks you are ashamed of her,” he clarified, his voice trailing off awkwardly.

Shachi frowned, his usually lighthearted expression turning uncharacteristically serious. “Ikkaku said she thinks she was forcing herself on you. That you only gave in because you were lonely,” he explained, his voice lowering. “And now everyone knows, and she feels embarrassed and pitiful.”

Law’s chair scraped slightly as he pushed back, his voice rising in outrage. “What? That’s absurd!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. His clenched fists rested on the armrests, knuckles whitening as he struggled to contain his mounting exasperation.  The thought of you feeling that way—that you thought he was ashamed of you—sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“Yeah, we figured as much,” Penguin said, cutting through the tension. “But she doesn’t know that, Captain. You need to remind her she’s more than that.”

Shachi leaned forward, his tone pressing yet sincere. “She is more, right, Captain?”

Bepo’s warm, worried voice followed, his eyes searching Law’s face. “You did tell her, didn’t you? That she’s more?”

The room fell deathly quiet, the three of them staring at Law, waiting for a response. He sat frozen, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions he couldn’t quite organize. A subtle tremor ran through his hand as he clenched and unclenched his fist.

Shachi's voice cut through the silence. “You're awful,” he said bluntly. “You need to tell her.” 

“I can't,” Law said, looking away.

“Why not?”

Law’s lips parted, and for a moment, he hesitated. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but raw, laced with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Because… I can’t lose her.”

The words lingered in the air, a heavy confession that seemed to sap the strength from him. His crewmates stood still, the weight of the admission sinking in. They had known Law for years, long enough to understand the fear buried beneath his stoic exterior. This wasn’t just about pride or embarrassment. This was about the scars of loss he carried, the pain he feared reliving.

After a brief pause, Penguin spoke up. “Well, we can't promise you that,” he stated, his words heavy with the acknowledgment of the uncertainty of the future.

Shachi nodded, his expression softening. “But she doesn’t want to leave you, Captain. That much we’re sure of.”

Bepo added, his voice solemn yet earnest, “And besides, she always says that life is a 'f*cking nightmare,' full of pain, and that you never know when you're going to die, so you should cling to every single small moment of happiness.”

Shachi and Penguin turned to Bepo, their mouths falling open in shock. Penguin gawked at him. “Wow, Bepo,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I’ve known you forever, but I’ve never heard you swear.”

Bepo’s face flushed under the sudden attention. “I was quoting!” he stammered, his ears flicking nervously. “The point is, if you won’t listen to us, maybe you should listen to her. You deserve some happiness too, Captain,” he finished, his eyes locking with Law’s.

Law's expression eased as he heard Bepo's words. The crew's support, combined with the reminder that your wisdom echoed their sentiment, struck a chord within him. He couldn't deny the truth in their words, even if fear still held him back.

The silence stretched once more, thick with emotion. Finally, Penguin broke it hesitantly. “Um, Captain?”

Law straightened, his usual composure returning. “There will be an obligatory meeting in two hours,” he said, his voice firm and commanding once more.

Bepo tilted his head. “Everyone?” he asked tentatively, unsure if Law meant to include you.

Law’s reply was curt and resolute. “Yes. Everyone. Now go.”

The crew spread the word about the meeting, making their way to the girls' dormitory. Shachi rapped on the door, and moments later, Ikkaku appeared, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“The Captain called for an obligatory meeting,” Shachi informed her. “Everyone needs to attend.” He craned his neck slightly, calling out into the room, “That means you too.”

From within, your voice drifted toward them, muffled by the pillow. “Yeah, yeah, I figured.”

Ikkaku gave a short nod and closed the door with a click. Turning toward you, she crossed her arms and regarded you thoughtfully. “You should shower first,” she suggested gently.

Sprawled across your bed, you rolled your eyes, a wry smirk tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Ikka,” you quipped with playful sarcasm. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Despite the joke, you couldn’t hide the flicker of vulnerability. It was brief, but enough to betray the pressure, you were feeling about the upcoming meeting—and the emotional mess still simmering just below the surface, threatening to spill over.

Taking Ikkaku’s advice, you trudged to the bathroom and showered, the hot water doing little to wash away your apprehension. When you returned to the room, your skin still damp and your hair wet, you began to change.

You couldn't help but notice Ikkaku’s gaze lingering on you. Sharing a room—and a shower room—meant you were no stranger to Ikkaku’s teasing observations, but this time, her stare felt particularly pointed.

You raised an eyebrow, turning to face her. “Okay, I know you’ve said my boobs are awesome, but the staring’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you remarked, your voice dripping with sass as you shot her a look.

Unfazed, Ikkaku smirked, leaning back against the wall with casual ease. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding even a little apologetic. “I was just curious to see how far those hickeys go.”

You froze, the memories of your night—and morning—with Law surfaced unbidden, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“Don’t you have something better to do than ogling me?”

Ikkaku’s grin widened as she shrugged nonchalantly. “Not really,” she admitted. “Besides, your face right now? Totally worth it.”

Feeling a mixture of resignation and embarrassment, you let out a grunt. There was no escaping it now.  Slowly, with reluctant resolve, you pulled away the towel, letting it fall to the side. The marks Law had left on your skin—bold, unmistakable—were now fully exposed. 

Ikkaku’s grin widened, her eyes shamelessly scanning the array of hickeys decorating your breasts and stomach.  She didn’t bother hiding her amusement

“Wow,” she remarked. “Someone likes to sign their work.”

Despite the wave of mortification, a small smirk crept to your lips. There was something strangely endearing about her playful commentary, even if it only added to your flustered state. Her carefree attitude was a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions you were still sorting through. 

But as your mind wandered, it inevitably turned back to Law. The marks on your skin were his. Each one a bold reminder of the moments you’d shared. He had never been one for public displays or openness, and the way he had left you to handle the aftermath of the crew’s discovery. Well, it stung.

You turned away and began dressing, methodically slipping on your bra before pulling a tank top over your head and following it with your uniform. Your movements were controlled, almost mechanical, as though each action was part of a ritual to compose yourself. Hands trembling slightly, you reached for the zipper of your uniform and drew it up all the way to your neck—a rare act of modesty for you.

With the uniform now in place, you grabbed a bottle of concealer from the desk and leaned toward the small mirror affixed to the wall. Your eyes narrowed in concentration as you dabbed and blended the makeup over the hickeys that still were visible on your neck, working meticulously to erase any evidence of your time with Law. 

Behind you, Ikkaku’s grin remained fixed on you.

“So, is he good?” she asked bluntly.

The question caught you off guard. Your eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, you found yourself staring at her through the mirror, unsure how to respond.

“Oh, come on,”  she added before you could gather your thoughts, rolling her eyes dramatically. “We’ve been pretending I didn’t know for months. At least give me something.”

A groan escaped you as you turned to face her. Yet, under her persistent gaze, you relented. “Fine, he’s… amazing,” you admitted. The words slipped out more easily than you expected, “I know, I know—you’ll say I’m biased, but he really is. Or it really is,” you added, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips as the memory resurfaced. “I never knew sex could be that good.”

Your cheeks flushed anew as the words left your lips, the vivid recollection making it impossible to hide your emotions. Ikkaku raised a brow, her interest clearly piqued by your admission.

“You’ve had sex with other people before, though,” she pointed out.

You nodded, your expression growing more contemplative as you thought back on those past experiences. “Yeah, and it was nothing compared to that.”

The teasing edge in her voice had faded, replaced by genuine curiosity.  “It was good, or good because it was him?” 

Your breath hitched slightly at her question, the double meaning not lost on you. The intensity of your feelings threatened to bubble to the surface, but you kept your composure. She wasn’t just asking about the physical act; she was probing deeper, into the raw feelings you had for him. 

After a brief pause, you answered. “Both,” you confessed, the honesty in your words both exhilarating and terrifying. “It was good, and it was good because it was him.”

“Well, I’m glad for you.”

You sighed, shaking your head slightly, your smile fading. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t matter now.”

“Why not?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of resignation settling over you. “Because, obviously, it won’t be happening anymore,” you replied flatly.

“You can’t know that.”

You scoffed, shooting her a skeptical look. “Oh, I think I know,” you muttered. He left. He must be ashamed, and therefore it definitely won’t be happening again.

“No,” she said again. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

A lump formed in your throat as her words lingered in the air. You tried to brush them off, letting out a heavy sigh. “I… Let’s just get to this meeting,” you murmured, the finality in your tone signaling an end to the conversation. You didn’t want to think about it anymore, didn’t want to admit that, despite your words, you couldn’t stop the hope that maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t truly over.

Law arrived, his commanding presence as steady as ever, and began by addressing the crew in his usual manner. He outlined the agenda for their imminent arrival on the island, detailing their expected conduct and assigning responsibilities with precise efficiency.

You sat among the crew, listening with a stoic expression, but your mind reeled with the weight of recent events. The words spoken seem distant, their meanings muted by the emotional turmoil swirling within you. Law’s voice remained firm and unyielding, yet there was a subtle trace of concern in his eyes each time his gaze landed on you.

After finishing the official agenda, Law cleared his throat, his posture shifting slightly. “There’s another matter we need to discuss,” he stated.

Your body tensed as the weight of his announcement settled over the room. The earlier incident—he’s going to talk about it. Your pulse quickened, the anticipation prickling your skin as you wondered what he'd say and how it would alter the fragile balance you felt.

As the eyes of your crewmates gravitated toward you, the sensation of being exposed made you want to disappear. Their curiosity, though unspoken, was palpable. Yet, amidst it all, there was one pair of eyes you could count on not to meet yours. Law. You couldn't help but wonder if his avoidance was deliberate.

Finally, he spoke, “I was informed by Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin that there are no objections to this… relationship.” His pause was short but meaningful—an awkward silence that made you feel every beat of your heart in your chest. The word relationship hanging in the air. For just a split second, his eyes locked with yours in a way that felt both like a test and a question. “Is that correct?”

The crew’s response was instantaneous and resounding.

“Not at all!”

“We’re all happy for you!”

“It should have happened sooner!”

“We’re more than fine with it!”

You leaned closer to Ikkaku and whispered. “Did he just say relationship, or am I delusional?”

Ikkaku chuckled. “You heard him right,” she confirmed.

The reality of the moment began to sink in, the word relationship replaying in your mind. It felt surreal to hear Law speak of your connection so openly. Your heart fluttered, caught between happiness and nervousness as you processed this unexpected declaration.

Relationship. Did he just make it official—without asking you first? You’d expect irritation, but instead, you felt a surprising sense of ease. There was comfort in knowing where you stood, even if it wasn’t in the way you imagined it.

Then, his gaze met yours once more. His expression remained guarded, but there was vulnerability in his eyes as he waited for your reaction. Without thinking, you offered him a soft, reassuring smile and a nod, a silent gesture of understanding that passed between you. 

His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, and for a tiny moment, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips—a smile so subtle it might have been missed by anyone else. But to you, it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Then, as quickly as it came, it vanished.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said firmly, addressing the crew once again. “Don’t go overboard with it. If any concerns arise, come to me directly.”

He paused for a moment before adding. “This is a private matter, and it will remain that way. Don’t get too curious, and no discussions about it outside this ship. Understood?”

There was a collective murmur of agreement from the crew. You found yourself nodding along with them, a wave of relief washing over you at the boundaries he had so clearly set.

Then, just as the mood began to shift back toward normalcy, Law added with a small, wry smile, “I’d also like to forbid all talks on the ship, but I don’t believe in miracles.”

A ripple of light laughter spread through the crew, the tension dissipating as the humor in his words broke the ice. Even you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, the absurdity of the situation settling in. 

“Now, I’ve heard that instead of focusing on cleaning as I directed, some of you were too busy gossiping and fooling around. As punishment, everyone will be cleaning the storage room.”

A collective groan rose from the crew, though none dared protest. Law had chosen this task with deliberate precision, fully aware that it was necessary, yet highly unpleasant—and that no one would volunteer for it willingly. By dividing the work into smaller groups, he ensured not only efficiency but also a shared misery, a kind of collective suffering that made the burden just a little easier to bear.

Once the commotion died down, Law turned to you. His tone remained firm and impartial. “Besides you. But for missing work earlier, you’ll take an extra shift cleaning the kitchen.”

Cleaning the kitchen was your least favorite task, and everyone on the ship knew it. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to feel resentment. Law was fair; everyone else faced consequences for missed duties, and he was showing you no favoritism. The consistency in his decisions left you feeling unexpectedly grateful.

With the meeting concluded, Law’s voice rang out one final directive. “That’s all. Everyone, return to your tasks.”

Usually, he would walk away immediately, but this time, he lingered. His gaze scanned the room, ensuring no one had the chance to approach you as the crew dispersed.

As you turned to leave, you felt the light pressure of a hand on your shoulder. Startled, you glanced back to find Law standing close. His voice dropped to a quiet murmur, so only you would hear him. “Come to me when you’re done. We need to talk.”

You arrived at Law's door later, your heart beating slightly faster in anticipation of the conversation ahead. Knocking gently, you heard his voice inviting you in. Moving with practiced ease, you crossed the room and settled into your usual seat across from him, as you took a moment to compose yourself.

“I can’t believe you did that,” you said, referring to Law’s earlier declaration at the meeting.

Law smiled tenderly, a rare expression reserved just for you. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner,” he murmured, the apology carrying a depth of sincerity that made your heart flutter. He paused, his eyes searching yours as he asked, “Are you okay with it?”

It was more than just a simple question. Taking a deep breath, you gathered your thoughts and responded, “I’m… surprised.” You paused for a moment, mustering the courage to voice your true feelings. “But… yes, I’m okay with it. More than okay.”

Law’s eyes locked onto yours, and you caught the relief and joy in his gaze. Your words—more than okay—settled the doubts that had crept into his mind. He let out a small sigh, the tension leaving his body.

For a moment, the room hung in silence, but then you couldn’t help yourself. A playful pout formed on your lips as you shifted in your seat, adding with feigned annoyance, “I’m still a little mad, you know. For leaving me there like that.”

Law’s response was matter-of-fact, his voice composed. “I know. I didn’t do it intentionally. I just didn’t see the point of sticking around.” There was a hint of nonchalance as he added, “I got injured a bit during the battle—didn’t want anyone making a fuss over me.”

That…. Your eyes widened in disbelief, anger, and concern flooding you. “Law!”

He chuckled lightly, his tone soothing as he hastened to reassure you. “I’m fine, I am. I swear.”

Crossing your arms, you murmured, “You better be.” Then, exasperated, you added, “You should’ve told me.”

“You weren’t visiting me…”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to…”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Law studied your face, the truth behind your statement hitting him. He realized how his actions might have led you to that conclusion, and guilt welled up inside him. His voice was quiet as he replied, “You were wrong.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

Law let out a long, deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I should’ve been clearer,” his voice carrying a note of regret. “I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that.” He paused, considering his next words. “I didn’t want anyone fussing over me, especially not you. I didn’t want you to worry—” 

“You can’t just avoid everyone when you’re injured. Especially not me. I… I care about you, you know that.”

“I know, I know,” he conceded, “I just… I didn’t want to be a burden. And it wasn’t anything serious.”

“You’re not a burden. You could never be a burden to me.” Leaning forward, you held his gaze. “Even if it wasn’t serious, you should’ve told me.”

“I probably would’ve told you if you’d visited me. You know, I usually tell you everything. If you’d come to check on me, I would’ve spoken up eventually.”

“You’re impossible sometimes, you know that?” you said, though there was no real anger in your voice. “You shouldn’t have left me there with the crew after they found out about us. I… I thought you were ashamed of me, that I was just some dirty little secret…”

“No. I’m not ashamed of you, not at all.” His voice was steady, but there was something raw beneath the surface he was desperately trying to hide. “You’re more than that. You’re…” He faltered, struggling with the words he wasn’t used to saying.

You could see the effort it took for him to be this open, to lay bare even a fraction of what he felt. Not wanting to see him wrestle with himself, you offered a soft smile, your voice gentle. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

Still, the air between you felt different now. You let out a small, nervous laugh, shifting slightly. “So… I guess that means we’re official now, huh?” A shy smile played on your lips.

“I suppose we are,” he replied, his voice carrying an unmistakable tenderness. Then, after a brief pause, his expression turned slightly hesitant. “I hope you’re still comfortable with that.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Of course I am. I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Good,” he said simply, a rare smile appearing on his lips. “Because I have too.” 

But just as quickly as it appeared, his expression shifted to more somber one. “It’s… it’s not going to be easy,” he admitted quietly. “You know that, right?”

You nodded, your expression serious as well. You understood the challenges that came with a relationship, especially in your unconventional circumstances. “I know,”

“I'm not… going to be easy.”

Reaching out, you placed your hand over his where it rested on the desk, your fingers tracing gentle patterns against his skin. “I know that too.” You laced your fingers with his, stroking his thumb lovingly. “Law, I'm not going into this blindly. I… I'm just as scared as you are.”

As Law started to object, you stopped him with a determined look. “No, don't give me that look. You're emotionally challenged, and we live in a shitty world. Of course, you're scared. So am I.”

Law blinked at your bluntness, then let out a breath—half amused, half exasperated. He fell silent for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours as he absorbed your words. He hadn't expected you to acknowledge his fears so bluntly—most people just assumed he didn't have any. Yet here you were. “You're incredible, you know that?” he murmured.

Your lips curled slightly, but you didn’t let the flattery distract you from the doubt still lurking in his gaze.   “I have my moments,” you replied lightly. “But I mean what I said. I know this won't be easy, and I'm scared too. But… I want this. With you.”

“I am a broken man,”  he confessed, his voice stained with regret, with something that almost resembled shame.

Your gaze didn't waver.  “And I won't fix you,” you said quietly. “And I am a broken woman, and you won't fix me either. But… maybe,” your voice mellowed out. “Maybe… the broken pieces… just fit together, you know?”

Law's breath hitched in his throat at your words. He felt the truth of your statement deep within, a part of him yearning to believe it. But his logical mind reminded him of the harsh realities of your lives. Yet, something about your words, your touch, made him want to believe it all the same.

“Broken pieces…” he mused.

“Yes, broken pieces,” you reiterate gently. “Sometimes, the unique things are created from broken pieces that just… fit.”

Law’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands. He took a slow, deep breath, your words sinking into his heart, chipping away at his usual skepticism.

“Maybe you're right,” he murmured. There was something fragile in his voice, something like hope. “Maybe… maybe the broken pieces do fit together in ways that make something… significant.”

[cherryberrycheol]

Welcome To The Jasmine & Ember | Choi Seungcheol | fluff

Pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

Summary: the golden petals festival is in three days, and the entire town seems to have collectively decided now is the perfect time to remember they need flowers to celebrate the coming of summer. you and seungcheol spend your days running the shop. this routine is familiar: cozy early mornings, the tea blends, the flower arrangements, his stealing of your hair pieces and your small revenges.

Word count: 1.4k

Genre/warnings: fluff, slice of life, flower-tea shop au, modern-ish fantasy au, solarpunk vibes, dragon!seungcheol x human!reader, they are long time friends in this but there's romantic tension if you squint, domestic bliss once more because i can't get enough of coziness and comfort, seungcheol is giving me strong cuteness aggression (also don’t ask me about the logistics of his tail and clothes, he probably has different pants for different moods or smth lol); reader has hair long enough to pin (let me know if you spot some more descriptive words), if i missed anything else let me know.

A/N: the warm cozy vibes of this universe are very much inspired by the comics series by Katie O'Neill "The Tea Dragon Society". i was planning to post it in may but then life hit me like a freight train and i was too overwhelmed to even think about this text. but considering the theme of it i still feel it's pretty much on time for end of spring to early summer vibes. i hope you enjoy! (⸝⸝º ^ º⸝⸝)

The text below isn’t proofread, proceed at your own discretion; if you see any mistakes I’m sorry, English isn’t my first language.

Masterlist

The morning air hums with the restless energy of late spring, thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and damp earth. It was raining all night. You wake at the early crack of dawn to the sound of Seungcheol already moving downstairs in the living quarters, the muffled clink of glass and metal jars, the occasional muttered curse as something undoubtedly refuses to cooperate. The shop doesn’t open for hours and you love the fact that you get to enjoy the quietness and earliness of the morning in your own set tempo.

You stay in bed for a little longer, your eyes looking at the window where the early rays of sunshine begin to trespass the blinds. Soon you get up, uncurtain the window and let the light in, taking a deep inhale of ozone-heavy air. The day promises to be good.

When you come down to the living quarters Seungcheol is already gone, likely tending to the shop before it opens. You sigh with a small pout—you like having breakfast together with him, it’s a much more pleasant ritual than eating alone. But the sight of a carefully arranged plate and a cup of tea warms your heart nonetheless and you smile, sitting down.

By the time you make it into the shop, the workroom is already stirring with controlled chaos. Seungcheol stands at the blending table, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the sparse scales along his forearms catching the lamplight as he measures out dried petals of chamomile and lavender. His brow is furrowed in high concentration, hands steady and  precise despite the hints of sleep still clinging to the edges of his expression.

"You’re up early," you murmur and a yawn follows your words as you slide up to the counter.

He doesn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth twitches. "Someone has to make sure the rosehip blend doesn’t taste like dirt this year."

You snort, reaching for the clipboard of pending orders that are to be fulfilled for today. In the age of solar- and magic-fueled technology you still like to write things out by hand occasionally. 

The list is daunting—twenty custom bouquets, fifty specialty tea blends, fifteen of which are entirely unique to the customer, and a last-minute request from the mayor’s office for centerpieces. The Golden Petals festival is in three days, and the entire town seems to have collectively decided now is the perfect time to remember they need flowers to celebrate the coming of summer.

Seungcheol’s tail—which only manifests in his human form when he’s comfortable with it—flicks against your calf as you pass with a clipboard, the spaded tip catching briefly on your pants and you almost stumble, hissing a curse at him.

"Stop looming. You’re blocking the light."

"You’re breathing too loud."

"I don’t."

"You do when you’re concentrating." You duck just in time to avoid the dried chamomile bud he flicks at your head. With a gremlinish giggle you retreat to your side of the shop where you begin figuring out flower orders that you’re to fulfill before the shop opens.

The morning passes in a blur of flowers, tea blends and paperwork. Customers begin trickling in as soon as the sign on the entrance door flips to "Open", their requests piling up faster than you can process them. A frazzled woman needs a bouquet for her mother’s birthday, something bright, cheerful and yet gentle, by tomorrow morning. An elderly man requests his usual order of mint-and-honey tea, but could you add extra lavender this time? His joints have been aching.

Seungcheol handles the teas with the same single-minded focus he applies to everything, his voice low and steady as he explains the differences between this year’s first-flush green tea and last year’s batch. His scales ripple along his neck when a particularly picky or indecisive customer insists on sampling every blend before committing, but he doesn’t complain. Not out loud, at least. But you notice the irritation in the way his fingers tap the countertop in that certain rhythm.

Then you catch him stealing your hairpin halfway through the afternoon. It’s an old habit, one he’s had almost since your first year working together. Or at least ever since you two grew comfortable with each other. Whenever the orders pile up too high, whenever the noise of the day's bustling becomes a little too much, his fingers find their way to your hair, plucking whatever shiny thing has caught his attention that moment. Today, it’s the big silver clip you’d worn to keep the strands out of your face while arranging bouquets. Its removal leaves your hair to cascade freely behind your back.

You don’t call him out on it. Not yet. You’re too busy with arranging another bouquet to put it down and immediately chase after him. All you do is heave a sigh.

And wait.

You wait until he’s elbow-deep in a new batch of citrus-infused black tea, his back turned, before swiping his favorite measuring spoon from the counter. The thing is ancient—a delicate, hand-carved utensil with an unreasonably pretty handle he’d once told you came to him from some long-dead dragon ancestor. He pretends it’s just a tool, but you’ve seen the way he meticulously polishes it every moment he gets.

The spoon disappears into your apron pocket with a satisfying swish of metallic friction against fabric. And then you quickly figure out a place to hide it, a small devilish smirk stretching your lips.

Seungcheol notices its absence within minutes when he decides to experiment with mixing two different blends. His head snaps up, his nostrils flaring as he scans the worktable. When his gaze lands on you, in the opposite corner of the shop assembling your bouquets, you’re the picture of innocence—or at least, you hope you are.

"Where is it?" he demands.

You blink. "Where’s what?"

"My spoon."

"Which spoon?"

He growls, the sound more draconic than human, and stalks toward you. You dart behind the counter, laughing, but he corners you easily, his arms braced on either side of the wood as he leans in. Up close, you can see the flecks of fire hues in his dark eyes, the way the tiniest, faintest of scales shimmer under his jawline when the light hits them just right. You continue laughing, a purely nervous fit of giggles, as you lean back so much you have to prop yourself up on your elbows for support.

"Give it back," he murmurs, his voice low.

You tilt your chin up and manage to put on a serious face. "Give me my hairpin."

A standoff.

He breaks first, exhaling sharply through his nose before reaching into his pocket and producing the clip. It’s warm and slightly bent—probably from being clenched in his fist all afternoon that he owned it. You take it with exaggerated care, then jokingly pat his cheek as if praising a puppy for successfully obeying a command. Seungcheol growls in a warning and you defensively press yourself into the counter even more, trying not to laugh too loudly this time.

"Check the cash register."

He takes a long suspicious look at you and finally steps back, giving you space. He walks back, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "vindictive little—" but cuts himself off as he yanks open the register drawer. The spoon sits innocently atop a stack of bills, gleaming under the shop lights.

When he turns back to you, his expression is caught between exasperation and reluctant amusement. "You’re a menace."

You grin and stick your tongue out at him. "I’m learning from the best."

Something flickers in his gaze at that—something warm and complicated—but it’s gone before you can put a name to it. He shakes his head, tucking the spoon safely into his apron pocket, and returns to his teas.

The shop bell chimes as another customer enters, and the moment passes.

By the time evening rolls around, your fingers are stained green from stems, your back aching from hours of bending over bouquets. Seungcheol isn’t faring much better—his black and red hair is a mess from running his hands through it, his scales dulled with exhaustion.

But what matters is that the orders are filled. The shop is still standing. And, well, you have each other to rely on.

When you collapse onto the back step to watch the sunset, Seungcheol silently joins you as he always does, pressing a steaming cup of chamomile into your hands while taking a sip out of his own cup. You take the tea with a smile, and a muttered ‘thanks’, your fingers briefly brushing his and you will yourself not to shiver or even worse—jump.

And just like that another day is done. And another tomorrow is waiting.

*.(๓•͙ ˕ •͙๓).* like + reblog + comment if you enjoyed your time reading this!

Masterlist

[iceclew]

BACK TO ART Y'ALL!

(after ....an awful lot of screaming these last days.. ... hey I don't know what is wrong with me, maybe it's the spring vibes finally kicking in or smth..)

Anyway here's the concept art for Hans and Henry - Witcher AU

'Cause I can not enjoy ANY franchise, ANY game, ANY-FUCKING-THING without witcherizing it. For t'is the law here.

Go down to my overly detailed description and non-text versions for AU Hans and AU Henry here. I have my brainworms and i'll spill them out on you, if you don't step aside, so beware.

Also this time I'm not going for a mix, I'm going full Witcher universe here.

Let me tell you there is a LOT of Hansry in the making for canon and Witcher AU right now.. I just need to find a way to finish it, for I am cursed to be stuck at WIPs so far as it seems. BUT I WILL DO MY BEST !!! FOR WE NEED THE HANSRY, DON'T WE?!

YES WE DO!!

So I've read the witcher books, played game 3, and looked up several things on fandom-wikis. If anything's not entirely witcher canon here, my bad. I tried my best ok? Also I took some liberty and smushed timelines and stuff to fit the scene here.

Capon is my fucking dress up doll. I am sorry I could not not. He is so FUCKING Dandelion coded.. PLUS I had so many cool outfit ideas and well...LOOK AT HIM HE JUST EATS, OK? I feel like he could be stuffed in a human-sized sock and still would look great in it... I don't get it either.. the tailors just love him.

have a song recommendation for Hans :3

Hans Capon (House of Leipa) The House of Leipa is a family line of famous military leaders at the nation of Kaedwen. (listen, there is a canon Fort Leida in the witcher universe, how could you blame me for jumping on that?) For generations they reigned over Fort Leipa and the surrounding region in Kaedwen. It was about 19 years ago when the Scoia'tael invaded the fortress and killed almost all members of the major family branch, including Hans' parents. Hans himself survived due to a servant's quick thinking. He was hidden in the servant's quarters in a bedroom's chest. The Scoia'tael focussed on looting the royal belongings. So he was not found until his relatives reconquered the fortress hours later. Hans has no memory of said day since he was still an infant, but suffers from claustrophobia now.

'The Slaughter of Leipa' contributed severly to the following pogrom in Ard Carraigh (Kaedwens capital), causing the deaths of over 400 nonhumans. Hans is not entirely against nonhuman races but has his personal, unprocessed issues with them....

Back in the present (20y/o) his situation is very similar to canon Hans, with Hanush currently being his guardian as long as he's not old enough to reign. He differs a lot from Hanush's imagination of a proper heir of their family tree and arguments are on a daily bases. For political representation Hans gets to travel and stay at the free city of Novigrad for a while. While he loves his home region in Kaedwen, he immediately falls in love with the urban vibes, and modern culture of the city (and of course the freedom of being away from Hanush's monitoring for once). For a few months he's spending a fair amount of coin on every tailor, tavern, brothel and bathhouse in the city.

By now the owners of said etablishements have made appropriate arrangements with every bandit's guilt around, for his regular visits are more profitable to all of them, than robbing him once.

There might have been one or two kidnappings with ransom involved nonetheless, which had Hanush consider hiring a bodyguard for his ward after all...If only just to mend his headache from time to time a bit.

This is were a certain offer from an old friend, plus a witcher's apprentice appears seemingly just at the right time...

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

Henry's design and my idea of his witcher character made me painfully aware of just how similar those two universes actually are. I mean - not necessary a bad thing, but it might take the charm out of it a bit. So I tried to add a little twist to Henry here. Let's see how we're doing.

Have a song recommedation for Henry :3

Henry, child of the fate Henry is born a blacksmith's son and lived a slow life in a small village around Kaedwen's hillside. There would be times he would even go as far as to call it straight out boring, but he's not one to complain about stuff like that.

Since his father Martin taught him from young age, Henry practically grew up with swords, especially the kind made of finest silver ore, used to slay monsters. His father's outstanding works, famous in all the northern nations, attracted many witchers from far and wide. Of course the nearby 'School of the Wolf' at Kaer Morhen was a popular and recurring customer at their forge as well.

All peace and quiet ended the day his village was raided by bandits and his parents were murdered. Henry found himself seeking refuge, first at Kaer Morhen, then at Fort Leipa, with a handful of other citizens. At the witchers fortress he recognized one or two faces from back at the forge, but there was one particularly standing out.

Radzig Kobyla, a reknown witcher in all around the region seemed to have special interest in Henry and even offered some first combat training in sword-fighting. With time Henry finds the truth about is bonds with Radzig...

Before he was born Radzig saved Martin from a mountain troll. Half joking, half serious Martin remembered old witcher's tradition of the Law of Suprise - 'for what you find at home, yet did not expect' and offered it. Radzig actually refused the offer, for he was not necessarily fond of said tradition.

It was only a month later that they found out about the pregnancy... While awaiting a child Martin was devastated about his promise. He was not sure if it was to be fulfilled or not. After Henry was born Radzig still refused to ever take the child, arguing he never agreed to any contract like this. But fate finds his way nonetheless and with Henry basically finding him and being robbed his family, friends and home, Radzig finally gives in and offers to train him to become a witcher.

Of course things are way more complicated by now, since Henry is not suitable for a proper 'Trial of the grasses' anymore. He never gained the full immunity and powers of a proper witcher, but with Kaer Morhen's knowledge, plus consultation of several sorcerer Radzig's find a way for Henry to undergo a lighter and also much slower variation of the original changing procedure.

Although the risk of said changing progress is the same, if not higher. Errors or negative effects can only be seen and be treated much later after they have already settled in. The sorceress Katharina of Ard Carraigh was outraged when she heard about Radzig's little experiment, but offered her help with the effects nonetheless. With her help Henry was able to adapt existing witcher potions to handle his new powers and skills easier, and - much more important - to keep them at bay, when they threaten to take over his sanity.

While trying to tackle his new life and witcher training, Henry is also confronted with his first 'witcher' contract (well whatever Radzig found fitting for a half-baked witcher, without much fighting experience, nor complete control over his powers, that is.) Their host at Fort Leipa seemed to have a promising task as bodyguard at hand, and since Radzig had taken a lot of contracts from the house of Leipa in past times, it would not hurt giving it a try. Henry would only have to take care of the spoiled Leipa's offspring for a while. Nothing too much of a task right? Right.

At least until said offspring runs off and jumps into sheets with an Alp and seems to be in need of a witcher now after all, .....

But that's a story for another time...

---------

*visible exhaustion but I made it*

that's it for now guys.. I ..clearly overdid myself in the description right there, I just know it.

Also - sorry for my spelling , I hate rereading stuff, and tend to miss weird errors...

Hope you liked it, I don't really call myself a good writer, I just want to get out my ideas here. :)

[polysucks]

tagged by @evilbubblewrap actually doing it this time bc u caught me in a silly goofy mood

10 people I'd like to know better!

Last song: Dad Vibes by Limp Bizkit bc it's been stuck in my head like crazy lately

Fav color: pink but army green looks better on me

Last book I read: An Indigenous People's History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz but it's for research lol im not that much of a wet blanket i prommy

Last movie: i watched Baby Driver for the first time last night since i saw it in theatres and yeah it still fucks for anyone curious

Last TV show: game of thrones [dodges tomatoes]

Sweet, savory or spicy: yes yes and yes

Relationship Status: partnered

Last Google search: tryna get a look at dem guns he's not injured this season my man'S PITCHIN THE DODGERS ARE GOIN ALL THE WAY AGAIN I KNOW IT

Looking forward to: spring break but like not for any particular reason just sick of the snow and my classes suck this quarter Tagging @meemawdean @a-chaotic-dumbass @g0lightly uhhhhh i cant think of 10 urls sorry sorry sorry

[everwhovian]

TRAILER

Nuh uh.... I just woke up and you spring that one me?

Okay, buckle up, I will go through the trailer scene by scene

"Why didn't you kill me?" ASKING THE RIGHT QUESTIONS GI-HUN OMG but please stop provoking them! I want you to get out of this season ALIVE please

Nooo Dae-ho! Him closing his eyes when the guards hold Gi-hun down.... I feel so bad for him 😭

Okay we have Gi-hun yelling and crying out why they kept him alive AND THE NEXT SCENE IS IN-HO?!

Same scene from the teaser, In-ho looks like he's crying sooooo.... is he almost crying cause Gi-hun is still fighting? Or am I delulu? Probably... they know exactly what they're doing with Inhun content

Okay team blue! I immediately found Dae-ho in the group shot... I am scared

The ceiling is pretty though. Are those glow-in-the-dark stars.... like the ones in In-ho’s apartment?! That's just rude!

This focus on Myung-gi... I know they said that he will have some character development... and I really hope it's because of Jun-hee and the baby!

Who is this 203 guy...

Hyun-ju.... bloody.... She looks badass and I love her omg but the blood across her face?! Asdfghjkl

If she dies it's a hate crime! Especially during pride month!

OKAY IT'S REALLY A LABYRINTH!

And Seon-nyeo is trying to find the right way through vibes

Another voting!!!

Damn the next scenes are happening so fast

Okay so we got the two dolls, we got a signal and tracks leading over a narrow bridge... and then the rope skipping

Is that like red light green light? You're only allowed to move while the light is green?! And then you can be swept off the bridge cause you're not allowed to move during red light?!

Oh god... all those bodies on the ground 😭

Gi-hun... stop... also covered in blood... omg...

LJJ looks too good

And that 202 guy again omg DO NOT HURT GI-HUN

Okay they're going up the stairs and one person stops to hold the rail... it's like a millisecond!

In-ho as the Front Man focusing on Gi-hun yet again! Always watching him

Geum-ja 😭😭 yes please put a stop to all of this 😭😭

Triangle guard pointing a gun at.... Gi-hun?! Cause he's not playing? Just wandering through the maze?

Ewww VIPs

Eating while watching the games... didn't expect anything else... but eww

Hyun-ju!!

And player 226... had to look up his name (Yeong-sam) but he was one of the idiots who convinced everyone to play another game with player 100

DO THEY HAVE TO FIGHT?! OMG!

JUN-HEE DON'T JUST SIT THERE OMG

Yes, Myung-gi tell her!! I love that he finally wakes up to protect her... (I am still mad about Young-mi)

Gi-hun.... are you crazy... do not provoke the guards omg... that's why they hold him down!

JUN-HO

Is he in In-ho’s quarters? Or the VIPs? GIMME MORE OF JUN-HO

Okay so there are doors and the players think they can get out just for them to be closed? Is that game the 5th game? To weed out everyone for the final game?

Yong-sik and Geum-ja 😭😭

I will cry... whatever outcome we'll get...

Dae-ho... DAE-HO?!

No.... please... I love him... is he gonna jump?! 😭😭

Just please don't be pushed

And Seon-nyeo.... crazy lady... laughing at Gi-hun?!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT GI-HUN OMG

Choking Seon-nyeo shouldn't look so hot omg

and then having the guard count down? Diabolical

Min-su... cornered, crying

Hyun-ju opening a door?! Dunno why my mind got so excited about that... but okay so in the maze they can open doors and some lead to a dead-end like Dae-ho's door... also the maze has multiple floors...

Nam-gyu all the way up and then looking down... not the best idea...

And Dae-ho, my boy! I am so scared... what is he up to... he's walking with this strange determined look on his face... what is happening...

Na-eul!! Missed you!! Also just for a second in the trailer but I'll take what I get...

GI-HUN IN THE SUIT AGAIN OMG!

WAIT THAT ELEVATOR LEADS TO IN-HO QUARTERS OR TO THE VIPS WHAT IS HAPPENING

He still votes x

In-ho?! Is that the reveal we're all craving?!

Slowly taking off his mask, not meeting Gi-hun's eyes at first... omg... "do you still have faith in people?"

Will In-ho try to recruit Gi-hun?!

And is that Gi-hun AFTER the reveal, walking back?! The look in his eyes... I can't

Okay that was the trailer... I am not okay... but... have you seen the stills?!

In-ho, player 132... is that Il-nam trying to recruit In-ho? WILL IN-HO TRY THE SAME THING OMG WHAT?!

but we will have a flashback!! Hell yes!!

And baby Jun-ho! He looks so young omg... so definitely a flashback to 2015

And we got a still of Gyeong-seok! Na-eul saved him! Definitely!

And the still of Na-eul! Is that in the organ trafficking room?!

Okay so my mind is all over the place and asdfghjkl

[hell-heron]

So. Nedbert Timeline. Especially good shippy moments/fanfic hooks highlighted

(sources: A search of ice and fire, A wiki of ice and fire, this fanmade timeline for some travel times)

262 - Robert born, around the middle/later part of the year probably. Brandon born, a little earlier the same year

263 - Ned is born

264 - Stannis is born, earlier in the year. Rickard visits KL but I wanna say doesn't bring the babes? But possibly that's when the fostering is decided if he had occasion to meet Steffon also

266 - Lyanna is born, late in the year, I really want her to be 15 at Harrenhal lmaooo

268 - Benjen is born (canonically have a similar age difference to Arya and Bran which I believe is 18 months) . Robert and Stannis visit court with their father, which would have made perrrrrfect sense as a stop on the way to the Eyrie where Robert was left with Jon at KL and Stannis went home with dad, but nooo. Couldn't have it.

271/272 - Ned and probably also Robert begin their fostering at the Eyrie. Meh. It's late fall or, if 272, the beginning of a "terrible cruel" winter, btw, great time to do this journey to the mountains. Great job making safe choices for these children, Rickard, Steffon and GRRM. Anyhow GRRM stated both boys were able to visit home during this time and divided their time between home and the Eyrie freely after turning 16. During this time, they also engaged in an orange fight in the great hall of the Eyrie

277 - Renly is born

278 - Cassana and Steffon leave early in the year to find a bride for Rhaegar. Robert turns 16 and goes home. Probably about the end of the year, Cassana and Steffon die in a shipwreck in the waters of Storm's End on their return.

279 - Rhaegar and Elia betrothed. Robert abandons lordship and young brothers to go straight back to the Eyrie and conceives Mya (he must be 16/early 17 as according to Ned he was younger than Mya is in AGOT, love these riddles). Note that I can't imagine Robert right now gleefully embarking on a ship, at least not from Storm's End, and KL-Vale is like two months' journey by land according to Tyrion's movements. He really peaced out of there fast. Possibly Ned is absent/has also gone briefly home for his majority? The winter also begins here around mid-year

280 - Wedding of Rhaegar and Elia which may or may not be attended by the Vale gang. Mya is born. By this time both boys are back in the Eyrie as Ned held Mya as a babe. Princess Rhaenys is born in the last quarter of the year also.

(some point between 280-281) : Ned visits Winterfell where Robert and Lyanna's betrothal is announced and they have the conversation about Mya and Robert's faithfulness

281 - Tourney of Harrenhal. Ned states he "came down from the Eyrie" to go there. This is in the third quarter of the year according to vibes I get. False spring lasts less than two months, in the last quarter of the year it's winter again. In the last month of the year, Aegon Is born.

282 - In the first month of the year, Rhaegar vanishes with Lyanna. Around the same time, Littlefinger and Brandon duel with all the drama that is involved. The Cat/Brandon wedding is probably scheduled around the second/third month but we know that doesn't happen. All this time however Ned appears to be in the Vale pointedly not attending 👀👀. Brandon and Rickard die. Various drama in the Vale with Ned and Robert going home to raise their hosts. Do Mya's vague memories of Robert work with her being two years old when she last saw him?? Anyhow. Ned and Robert spend the rest of the year apart to raise their banners and for the latter fight at Summerhall and Ashford

283 - Largely using the wiki at this point bc twoiaf says The Trident was in 282 and just no. Spring probably begins at some point this year. At some point between late 282 and early 283 Robert is wounded, hides at the Peach and conceives Bella. Ned and Hoster Tully arrive to save his ass. Battle of the Bells. Ned and Jon's wedding to Lysa and Cat, all within the first couple months of the year I believe based on Robb's nameday. Battle of the Trident - Robert is once again wounded (by Rhaegar??) so Ned goes to assault KL alone. At this point it's decided Robert will be king. The sack has to be within about a year of the start of the war, so first half of the year? Robert reaches the city, pardons are made, Ned is horrified by Robert's reaction to Aegon and Rhaenys's deaths. Ned leaves to interrupt the siege of Storm's End and do the Tower of Joy stuff.

284 - By this point it's summer. Stannis's assault of Dragonstone. Robert marries Cersei. DOES NED ATTEND THAT WEDDING? Canon says Lyanna's death reconciles them after their fight about the the Targaryen babies, so they saw each other after the Tower of Joy. Would Ned really bring Jon to KL, even if hidden? Did he send him home with Howland and went to Winterfell himself only later? Cat does say by the time she reached Winterfell "Jon and his wet nurse had already taken up residence" though also that "Ned brought Jon home with him". All this, btw, taking in account all the travel times, implies a Robb possibly 1 year old being able to walk and talk by the time he first saw his father, with relative disruption of bonding and possible struggle for Cat to get him to accept this strange man initially, all while she's in agony over Jon... take notes, NedCat week participants!

(it's not known whether Robert and Ned had any occasions to meet again in this 5 year span. A winter comes and goes sometime in this period)

289 - Greyjoy rebellion. Seems to have been spring/later summer. Ned and Robert are together for the siege and assult of Pyke. Unknown whether Ned also attends the tourney of Lannisport or any further celebrations. As we know Robert chooses to celebrate the happy reunion by immediately renewing Ned's child murder trauma from their last argument by giving him his own child hostage <3 unknown whether that was Robert's idea or Ned's ofc but I prefer the first personally.

292/293 - Seems to have involved a visit of Cat and Ned to the south as Cat recalls meeting 5 years ago Lysa and infant Sweetrobin and Ned recalls seeing Tommen during his breastfeeding years, however he claims to not have seen Robert after the Greyjoy rebellion. Interesting choice, could def use some fic and fanwanking. At this point Robb's 9, Sansa 6, Arya 3/4, Bran 2 - Joffrey 6, Myrcella 2, Tommen 1 - Theon 13 - Sweetrobin around 1 too but a few months younger than Tommen, to give an idea.

298 - Robert's visit, we know what happens

[curiokyd]

Quotes from My Anthropology and History Professors from Fall Quarter 2024 - Spring Quarter 2025

"When I need to see the opinions of the world, one of the first places I turn to is Teen Vogue."

"Ringtail lemurs are just girl bosses."

"A lot of these [primate] species look cursed."

"I call macaques the cockroaches of the order."

"As a short king myself, it is infuriating to be called lesser just for being shorter."

"Langurs aren't the best mothers, I'll admit it."

"You don't want to lose all your teeth at 15 and die."

"We eat chicken tendies, not acorns."

"This is why babies kinda look like aliens."

"If you're a primate, are you going to be munching down on a Douglas Fir cone?"

"Let's say that an organism dies, which is unfortunate."

"You don't need me to tell you that Africa is huge."

"The pelvis is giving homo vibes."

"You need big ol' teeth to eat big ol' chunky things."

"And the story is that he was chasing butterflies and nearly fell into the gorge, as one usually does."

"Pizza is not a time-specific food."

"Imagine that you are a cube."

"We're a sack of DNA."

"We're a sack of flesh."

"I don't believe in species."

"There's no correlation between the rates of divorce and the rates of margarine consumption."

"One must have a deep acceptance for chaos."

"He would take his eyes out and juggle them."

"Culverts are the most boring things I'll ever talk about."

"I don't know how the fish mind works."

"Being a parasite is a lovely way of living."

"It's really good, and excuse the expression, at killing children."

"To cure malaria, you need to kill the host - no, not the host. Please don't kill people."

"CHOLERA...is abysmal to have."

"It's natural for us to have an affinity for whales."

"Newborn babies are like underbaked bread."

"He married a bar wench and then a Quaker woman."

"Because these Europeans are bowling all the time"

"The kebab transcends boundaries."

"The aliens were not built by pyramids."

"Woe unto us if we ate soup the wrong way."

"Golden Age of Bullshit."

"Stay the hell away from my camas."

"This time of year is squishy."

"So, your nuclear family goes to the corn store."

"Is the Ice Age still part of your existence?"

"I am 63% certain, which is an oddly specific amount of certainty."

"Just like some of you may worship Costco-"

"I don't burst into flames whenever I walk into a church, so I guess that's good."

"Imagine how stinky you have to be to offend the captain of a whaling ship."

"You have the wrong essence."

"You guys don't count because you're undergraduates."

"I'm not the authority of defining forks."

"I'm a fork guy. I don't talk to people who aren't fork people."

"Maybe your mother's brother is a waste of life."

"The lineage of graduate students dies with me."

"Medieval people are aliens."

"You don't have a soul, you have worms."

"It's like Indiana Jones type shit, you gotta go find out what it is at the end of the fucking road."

"My science is hard, your science is flaccid...yuck."

"The small threshold of experimental archaeology and LARPing."

"Lets not be eco-terrorists."

"It is my right as an American to wear shorts on an archaeological dig."

"You get hit by a guy with a stick riding his horse backward."

"Conquer places with unsexy things, like DMVs."

"You'll die of spicy beef ramen."

"This is my giraffe, piss off."

"Henry VII was a barrel. He was a square."

"All Hungarians are named Orban."

"I want a potato from 7/11."

"The popes banged it out. Not like that."

"No pope was safe, even if he is dead."

"We don't like thinking, it's why we have washing machines and Netflix."

"The Bass Pro Shop pyramid might've been built by aliens."

"I'm a good capitalist, I'll exploit the hell out of you."

"Happiness is not Martin Luther."

"Why would you wear a banana peel on your head?"

"Are you really going to admit that you know the Macarena?"

"The typical French attitude is that they're not Neanderthals."

[moku-and-his-madness]

first chapter (so far) of Six String Rebellion

Chapter One: Decided 

Elijah

Nineteen. We only get nineteen years. For what?  To find ourselves before they take it all away from us? We only get nineteen years to screw up, nineteen years to make or break friendships, and nineteen years until we need to perfect ourselves before they do it for us. It’s overwhelming that, at our most vulnerable state as teenagers, we are expected to perform like hard working soldiers in psychological warfare when it is most easy to form cracks in our “perfect” physique and fall apart.

Others my age are studying, refining themselves. As per the regime mandated by the LMB, all adolescents under the age of nineteen are to maintain a high IQ, excellent health and physical strength, and top-grade mental stability. But me? I’m sitting in the springs, disregarding my duty as a member of the Aligned Saviors of the New World Order because why not. It calms me to sit and get away from it all and I shouldn’t have to give that up. Selection Day is ten months away.

 I don’t need to be perfect yet. I’d rather remain imperfect. My flaws are what make me different from all the ass-kissing robots that are up next to run the world for everyone else. If it isn’t clear already, I'm quite the anarchist and don't believe the New Order will save humanity. Countless times it has been shown that there has been no progress with the order but saying so is treason. Like, whoops, my fault. The waters are restless today, flowing by without vigilance or care. It’s fall, so leaves pass me by as they crumple into bits of orange and brown stars among a silky black stream. 

I've never been like everyone else. I'm awkward in conversation, I can't hold eye contact, and can never truly focus my attention on one thing making me easily disliked by most. It may be due to my unnatural appearance or the fact that I don't seem to give off a “good vibe” as I've been told before. I like to write creatively even though we're forbidden from doing so, stacking up contraband notebooks of stories that overwhelm all my thoughts. I watch again as the waters pass, another thing that marks me as weird and unconforming.

“Eli?,” my mother calls out. “Eli, are you out here again? You’re going to get a fever if you keep staying in the streams for too long.” I glance towards my clothes resting on an embankment of solid rock near the edge of the stream. I sigh, getting up from the cool waters to get dressed. By the time I’m fully dressed with my shoes in hand, my mother has made her way to the edge of the stream’s foamy waters, wrapped in a thin shawl and clutching a clipboard. She glances to where the rapid stream makes contact with soggy grass and soil and frowns. “You’re late,” she scolds gently.

Time has aged her face with its smooth wrinkles and roughness, and she doesn't smile as much anymore. Her face is small with rounded cheekbones and sharp black hair that falls gently to her shoulders in a stark contrast to her sharp, crystal blue eyes. She stands tall but she is nothing compared to my father; a giant of a being who casts a shadow on anyone he deems lesser than himself. Her shawl is covered in shades and patterns of rosy reds and slow burning oranges to signify the beginning of Summer Quarter. I haven't been wearing mine. She holds the clipboard with a firm grip and looks at me curiously. “What are you doing out here?”

I shiver, the cold finally hitting my wet skin. Water drips placidly as I stand in the cool breeze drying off. The frigid air has made my skin raise with goosebumps, giving me the disgusting feeling of bugs crawling all over me. My singular crystal eye is twin to hers, but the dark brown of the other looks out of place. A trait from my father. “I don’t need to explain why I’m out here if you already know,” I huff out in a breath. “I need a damn break from him.” I gesture vaguely towards the house. As if the weight of the New Order wasn't enough, I have my father to thank for all the anxiety and social awkwardness that makes me such a freak.

“I know you…dislike your father, but there’s nothing you can do until spring.” She finds a place to sit frigidly on a rock adjacent to mine and gives me a glassy stare. She chooses her words carefully, like someone disarming a bomb, careful to never let me explode. It doesn’t work. “Dislike?” I shout. “I’d use a much stronger word than ‘dislike, Mom. I hate him.” I've jumped off my rock now, pacing between the space of the stream and the rock my mother rests on. My breath has already begun to accelerate, threatening to bring on hyperventilation and choke me.

“Elijah,” 

            My hands shake. My anger has always been able to overtake me, even when I don't expect it to. But through the emotions I force myself to look at my mother even though it irks my very being. “You have a meeting you are thirty five minutes late for.” That's it. No more mention of my father, or the fact that I won't meet her eye, or even that I am still dripping wet from the stream. No, the LMB schedule is more important than the functionality of her own son. Her only son. So I guess it's time for my life-altering meeting.

                                      ******** X ********

            I dress my best and my best is black slacks and a white tee and I was held at the mercy of my mother to comb my slick mass of dark hair. Sadly, the LMB center is within walking distance so we couldn't take the car and avoid making a whole spectacle. Passersby note my attire and make comments to each other. They know where I'm going, what I'm going to be doing for the next nine months before Selection Day. Usually this is a day to remember and there is quite a celebration regarding it but not for me. My mom knows I've never been big on parties but she also knows I have never looked forward to this day. 

            To explain, a day like today is when everyone at the age of nineteen goes to their nearest LMB center and is scheduled a meeting with an advisor to determine the job they are most fit and eligible for and basically are told how the rest of their life is gonna go, no questions asked. The LMB exists to plan out every single life of the future all in some attempt to make humanity better and stronger as a whole. Some get assigned to physical training where they perform rigorous tasks like reconstruction and even combat. Most with high performance in studies and mathematics are assigned to the medical field to become doctors and researchers and are actually granted enough funding that most think they are close to finding the cure to cancer.

            But if you are deemed unnecessary and inadequate for society you're addressed as a defect and nobody knows what happens to them. In this high society ruled by the New Order, being a defect is the highest disgrace and most would rather die (and often do). But the only reason for this whole mess and the sudden rise of the New Order is the global collapsing of the human race as we know it. Some preferred to see it as a pandemic while others saw it as the apocalypse but either way it spread like wildfire. Many were just suddenly dropping dead, either in body or in mind, and it freaked everyone out.

             When autopsies were performed on the droppers they were found to be in perfect condition and what was weirder is that they never seemed to decay at a normal rate, taking weeks sometimes even months to rot away. The autopsies never revealed if it was a contagious state or not but it caused a panic. Morgues were filled to capacity and bodies started to litter the streets. Many took matters into their own hands and lit funeral pires to dispose of the dead. And then, introducing the all new Aligned Saviors of the New Order who believed it was the rapidly deteriorating state of humanity that caused such an outbreak and decided it was better to reroute humanity’s goal for life. Then after a while the LMB centers began to show up and they released their mandate which is why I'm here now. Yippie.

            The center is within view and soon we are walking through the glass pane doors that read “Life Management Bureau, Setting the path to a better humanity.” In small lettering at the bottom there's a paragraph of bullshit about the New Order and their mission but I can't give a damn as I walk into the office, greeted by a cheery receptionist who looks like the after of an old antidepressants commercial. She beams as we approach and I can only hope she enjoys her job. My mother knows I won't speak so she does so for me. “We are here to check in for Elijah Mooring’s career aptitude meeting.” 

            There’s clicking on the other end and, goddamn I don't know how she does it, she smiles again with a mouth full of pearly whites. “Apologies, miss, that meeting began forty minutes ago.” She chirps. “Yes I know, my son intends to take full responsibility for his tardiness and will complete the assigned service.” My mom's demeanor actually manages to make the receptionist’s smile falter for a moment and she instructs me to a meeting room down the hall. See, it's unlike someone my age to have their parents speak for them but with all the social awkwardness it’s best I do little to no speaking at all.

            I feel bad for the ol’ bloke  assigned to oversee me for the next nine months because I'm going to be a living hell. He won't be able to get me to talk, I in no way shape or form fit any designated job requirements, and we will ultimately sit in silence until he cracks. I brace myself for the stiff expression I'm going to see as I pass through the doors but instead I'm greeted by a smile. A man around my age stands at the head of the long meeting room table dressed in formal wear but above that, cloaked in a full length trench coat and adorned with heavy workforce boots. His skin is tan and smooth and his hair is a warm shade of butterscotch that almost glitters and falls in waves to the nape of his neck.

            “Greetings, mate. I don’t give two shits if you're late, just sit down and we’ll have a chat about…” He shifts around for a moment, “your paperwork that I have failed to remember and won't be needed if you talk enough.” He leans on the swivel chair a bit and it spins, almost landing him flat on his face. “I meant to do that!” He calls from the floor. His accent is startling and almost British and I stand there frozen with surprise.

[rubiatinctorum]

I've now had one of my favourite cardigans for over two years. I realised not too long ago that my style hasn't changed very much in a while. I don't mind this, because it means I can enjoy the clothes I like so much for a very long time, and the goal when I bought these clothes were to get pieces I'd like years down the line. So, that was a success.

But I find it so strange, because my style used to change so much more frequently. And that made the years feel very separate from each other. Even when I started pivoting toward my current style, a change which started in late summer 2020 when I started working at a job with a certain vibe, I had moments alongside that where I'd be into something I'm not so much now. 2021 and early 2022 had a lot of velvet and velour. 2022 was also when I was into wearing suits to some of my uni classes. I also had a brief corduroy phase somewhere in those years? And it makes them feel a bit more distinct.

But since 2023, my wardrobe has been mostly the same wool and/or cashmere cardigans and sweaters for three quarters of the year (with new additions every now and then), linen shirts and wide linen pants, the same few pairs of jeans and dress pants, the occasional blazer, and also a lot of the same camisoles and shorts in the summer. Even when I add new garments, the styles are very much the same types. And even with my jewelry, the ring I wear everyday is one I've had since 2023, and the necklace I wear most days I've had since 2022. It makes me forget sometimes what happened in which year, even looking at my photos. I can't automatically tell from the clothes which year it was.

This is a good thing. I like having clothes that I enjoy for years. I never go into a clothing purchase thinking, "I hope I only wear this three times. I hope I'm sick of it by next season. I hope it won't align with my sense of style for very long. I hope I wonder what the hell I was ever thinking while buying it." That would be ridiculous. If I like a sweater, for example, I want to be able to wear and enjoy it for as many years as possible. But it does feel strange, how the years feel less segmented off from each other into different phases, and how that affects my perception of time. The difference between 2017 and 2019 feels huge to me because of how much my style changed. The difference between 2023 and 2025 feels very small.

I wonder if that will change a bit this year, because I've started adding a few trendy pieces that I've liked for a while. I debate forever on trendy things, because I don't want to spring for something I won't like for a long time. It took me four years to commit to a gold paperclip link bracelet despite wanting one the whole time, four years to venture into the world of baroque pearls (which I actually enjoy wearing more than round pearls for an everyday thing, it turns out, because of their organic, almost liquid-bead look and more casual vibe), and I only just got a pair of wide leg jeans a few days ago despite knowing for years that I like wide leg pants. Maybe because of pieces I'm adding lately, my style will feel a bit different than it has the last few years. But ultimately most of the staples are the same, not just in style but the exact same garments, so maybe it won't feel that different at all.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

do you have any thoughts on prussia and Canada non romantically? I think they could have an interesting dynamic that’s way overshadowed by all the shipping in the fandom, like they were enemies at one point and i think Prussia would fear Canada bc Canadians had a reputation of being really strong on the battlefield in both world wars. I think they’re def chill w/ each other modern day though.

I understand if this just isn’t ur thing, just those two are making me think thoughts and I cannot find any non romantic content of them

this was all sparked by your fic where Matt and jack are captured by Gilbert and Ludwig btw, I really liked how you wrote the dialogue there. Also you mentioned they had interacted before, care to elaborate? 👀

Oh, man yeah. Idk what precisely about prucan makes me want to jump in a lake, but in my universe, Matt literally took or nearly took Gilbert's head off with an axe in 1918 to slow the German spring offensive so lol yeah. That was his little side quest during the whole 'Alfred was mad Jack and Zee moved back behind the lines without Matt' fic from a while back. A solid quarter of Matt's war crimes were directly against Gilbert and Ludwig personally.

With the whole invisible meme and how practically every man, woman and child in Quebec participated in extremely severe brutality against the Americans and British in the 17th and 18th centuries and then threw our war crimes record on top, it's just too perfect not to write him as a trench wraith. Other nations have limits. Europe may stay their hands personally often because they never know when they might need that ally later. But Matt's never held back in his life. He couldn't afford to when he was small, and crawling on his belly through no man's land was easy for him. Ghosting his way behind enemy lines, spitting skulls and slitting throats is nothing new for him. He did that as a child, the wee freak.

And Gilbert did, too. Knight, crusader, zealot whose hand was certainly not stayed. Mutual recognition of being so fucked up they can't spend much time with the other without being reminded of some USDA Grade-A beef. I fully adhere to the headcanons that Matt's a walking flashback for Gilbert in some circumstances. But they get along fine. It's incredibly funny to picture a 1,200-year-old war machine chatting with Alfred or Arthur and then absolutely jumping out of his skin because Matt appears out of nowhere wanting affection or is just interested in the conversation. The whole anglophone world has swallowed Alfred's or even Arthur's perspective about Matt being the milder, sweeter version of Alfred, but Gilbert's specific situational PTSD just sweating bullets gives me life. It's a kind of cruel, but Matt takes utterly too much pleasure in it.

As for before that point, the long 19th century of Anglo-German fuckery as Anglo-Saxonism and a largely German monarchy drew Britain into closer cultural ties among the elite of Germany and Prussia; Gilbert often found himself in Arthur's company. They fucked a lot, mutually griping about their children. Gilbert and Matthew met and saw each other, and I want to rewrite that ficlet where Gilbert isn't exactly clocking him when he really should be in my current timeline lol. The part from canon about how everyone sees Matt in his early life as being a menacing figure at Arthur's shoulder greatly appeals to me. The guard dog with the loyalty and obedience of the best of Arthur's hounds.

Like at least once in a group drinking setting, Francois' arse has caught and kept Arthur's attention and Matt and Gilbert find themselves at a table having a conversation and swapping stories that would have them both before the Hague if they were more recent. And they just vibe. Both men depend utterly on the goodwill of often testy and impatient brothers. There is a loneliness of having one neighbour that matches fairly well with having mostly neighbours who probably hate Gil's guts on some level and loving women who could kill them. This absolute canyon of difference in how Gilbert is relegated to the museum display case, and Matt is an active, dynamic part of the world political system that keeps them apart.

[diamondcrownacademy]

DCA Info Part 4: Academy Pets, Horses and Griffins

The art used is from this art dump originally posted on May 26th 2020.

Pets/Animal Companions

The academy stays true to the legends of the princesses by having the students bring their pets or be assigned to an animal companion as it is believed to help with responsibility and compassion. The animals have a spell cast on them that allows them to talk with their owners. If someone other than the owner tries to talk to them they can only hear the sounds the animal makes. But since the students have Animal Linguistics, there isn't much of a language barrier. The dorm rooms also have animal beds made for the pets. There is plenty of pet essentials in the school store too. The main building as well as the dorm living quarter buildings are built to have pathways for the animals so that they can venture around with little difficulty. The animals that aren't owned by the students are just wild animals who made themselves at home in the academy. Faustus often talks to them regarding the living conditions.

Horses

The horses of Diamond Crown Academy are used for the riding competitions. Though some students have their own horses brought to the stables. Most of the horses were raised in the academy.

Each of the horses are able to speak to humans via a gem collar. Until the collar is taken off or when not wearing one, only other animals can hear them speak. The collars have gems that also have the colors based on which dorm the student riding them are in.

From left to right, the horses shown in the photo above are:

🌹 Lusio (Arabian) - Briar's steed and he is considered a blue ribbon horse. He is a very proud stallion and is proud of his accomplishments. While his behavior makes him come off as narcissistic, but he admires and respects his rider. [He specializes in Racing, Showjumping, Dressage, Endurance Training]

Relationship with Rider

Briar and Lusio are a great duo, always in sync, but he just can’t help but brag to the other horses to the point where they’re just “we know, Lusio… I know!”

🐻 Tala (Gypsy Vanner) - Elu's steed and she is a mellow horse who has a lot of strength and stamina. She is often the mediator when the horses argue with each other. [She specializes in Racing, Trail Riding, Horseback Archery]

Relationship with Rider

Elu and Tala are both the calm pair, just vibing with their surroundings as they get lost in the moment. Though Tala tends to play peacemaker amongst the other horses in the stable.

🐲 Yinglong (Holsteiner) - Jinlong's steed and he is horse with amazing jumping strength. He is very energetic and likes his mane to be combed. [He specializes in Racing, Showjumping]

Relationship with Rider

Jinlong and Yinglong are both competitive and have a fire in their eyes. Yinglong likes to eavesdrop on gossip and will blabber to other horses.

👠 Dusty (Rocky Mountain Horse) - Ella's steed with a lot of optimism and sometimes does ranch work when he's not competing. He likes to socialize with people and other horses. He doesn't mind getting ribbons braided in his mane. [He specializes in Parade, Dressage, Ranch work]

Relationship with Rider

Dusty and Ella are the cute and peppy duo. Dusty is sometimes oblivious about the atmosphere in the room.

📚 Sullivan (Selle Francais) - Rozeline's steed who is timid but has a very good record on competitions like Lusio. Lusio considers him a rival even though he doesn't even want to compete. He will walk away from strangers and seek out his rider for comfort. [He specializes in Racing, Dressage, Showjumping]

Relationship with Rider

Rozeline and Sullivan both like their riding time to be solo. Although, Sullivan is scared of the dark and quite cowardly.

Griffins

Griffins are much different from horses, they are proud and wild so they aren't around as much when the winter season arrives. They migrate to warmer climates and return in spring. Griffins are very selective of who rides them and there is a reason why Griffin disc is only exclusive to the academy. But there have sports shows that feature it. Actius handles the Griffins while Faustus handles the horses at the academy.

[andromeddog]

pls talk more about your scottish highlander regiment ocs…… they are so enchanting.. i love the officers

anon i hope you are prepared for a lot of rambling under the cut

hello and welcome to my twisted mind.... i'll try to condense the 10k google doc of lore into something passable here. BASICALLY all of these ww1 guys are part of a web of interconnecting stories that intersect and span before/during/after the war. the main group are the four rugby boys who live in Stirling, Scotland and are drawn into the war in 1916 following the military service act...

from left to right we've got connor, james, peter, and johnny! excuse my bad handwriting but here's the jist of their dynamics. they play rugby together before everything goes to shit (peter is captain, james is the star player, johnny is stupidly reckless, and connor keeps getting into fights) a group of good guys, if a bit rowdy. they join up with the 14th Service Battalion of the Argyll & Sutherlands and spend most of the war fighting on the western front!

two old sketches of johnny and peter..... i think these r from like spring 2022? anyway i could go into more detail about their interpersonal issues but it's a lot and i feel like that could b its own post... ultimately connor gets killed taking out a stormtrooper (another oc) and peter loses a leg about a week later. james contracts influenza and gets sent home but eventually recovers, leaving johnny to finish out the war by himself. their group is definitely not the same after the war, and peter & james in particular really struggle with ptsd in the following years.

AND THE OFFICERS. WOO. aka toxic old man yaoi aka Lt Kincaide and Lt Irvine. these two spend like three full decades being catty and hating each other before they end up getting together LOL it goes something like this: kincaide is from a wealthy family, irvine is not, they meet at school and end up going to the same military academy prewar. they rly hate each other from the beginning and would probably just be petty rivals HOWEVER. irvine is sneaking around somewhere he 1000% should not be and catches kincaide in a very compromising position w another man. irvine intends to tattle but kincaide blackmails irvine into keeping quiet- irvine is there solely on scholarship and kincaide has enough social clout to ruin his military career. basically if kincaide goes down he's taking irvine with him.

that sets the stage for a decades long contentious relationship- partially bc they just keep bumping into each other. irvine obessively tries to find ways to end kincaide's career and kincaide loooooves fucking with him. individually they're very competent people- kincaide is an especially beloved officer even if he is a bit of a romantic snob, and irvine is insanely effective if a bit rigid and cold. these guys got issues on top of issues but proximity eventually leads to a healthy rivalry that becomes something like friendship that becomes basically being married. by the end of the war they are staples in each others lives but they dont get together until a decade or so after it's all over... they each take some damage during the war and spend their later years taking care of each other :')

my beloved old men. they are so fucked up. mutsache4mustache <3

there is so much i could say about them individually and the deep lore but im such a horrendous writer. also this is like a quarter of all of their stuff minus about four characters. the ideal format for this story would be a 300 chapter webcomic/graphic novel but i have neither time nor skill nor attention span for such a sprawling story so it'll just be random illustrations and blurbs in the tags. and my google docs. if any of this has interested ppl i've made a rugby boy playlist and an officers playlist bc im insane. you can get the vibes of their stories a lot better.

and uh i think thats a super rough version of these guys. anon i hope you know that i love you and this ask was so delightful to get <3

[arttrampbelle]

Ok so since tumblr couldn't let me add more than 10 photos i had to improvise.

So here it is.

Shang tsung self ship giant ass post!

Ok so this is me. Describing things as if im giving a tour or tutorial on a game. :3

Very self indulgent.

🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉

SHANG TSUNG'S ISLAND

The island: absolutely breathtaking views. Tropical paradise. Various old structures and architecture of many many various eras and dynasties of China. Sometimes you can feel the island like it's alive....how ominous. Shang tsung says the island is in a realm of its own. A pocket dimension,not quite affected the same way as the realms it connects to. It sorta of is timeless,much like the man who rules it...still wonder what he means by this.

But overall it has lovely shores and beaches. Lavish courtyards and gardens. It has an upper courtyard,and lower. The Lower courtyard is mostly for guests,kombatants when there is a tournament,servents and guards. The upper courtyard is for me and shang tsung. He doesn't let anyone wander around in it unless he invites you. Which he does rarely.

The interior: the interior is traditional but has modern facilities. (Look shang is old but come on man!)

Tho he does have a traditional kitchen and a modern. But the modern one is his personal one near his living quarters. The rest of the inner palace is still got an old school vibe.

The inner palace/private living quarters:The bed chambers is lavish. Large. Silks,velvets,gold,red. *sigh* . Beautiful.

Shang's private kitchen,bathroom,hot spring,etc is all connected.

Armor/clothing:has beautiful armor and a ceremonial sword in his bed chambers too.

Some armor is for kombat. Some is ceremonial. Either way it's always beautiful to look at.

I too have lovely outfits. Aren't they great?

My magic apprentice outfit. Sorceress in training if you will. (Not exactly how i had it,but it was closest to i could find)

Also our accessories too

Shang and i (lady tsung) have snake rings. A pendent that helps my magic training. Master tsung has a snake flask(with what alcohol or its contents, i dare not ask him) and a dragon pipe for Tobacco(or other substances im sure).

Throne room:Shang tsung's throne room is also breathtaking. A Large room,holden dragons,the tournament master private dining room, a small courtyard next to it. Isn't it lovely?

His chair and also the outside gates to the inner palace.

Well that's all i have to show you for now! I hope you enjoy your stay. You probably should get going before he gets back. Shang tsung,my beloved tends to get a bit peeved when i have guests up here.

❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤

I hope you enjoyed this fun post. Also if you want you can use some of the pics for aesthetic boards if you want! Just try to credit me or at least send me a link to your work. I would love to see your creations!

Nothing is set in stone. And things may change but i have fun world building fr. So i hope this helps you too get ideas!

Plz i really love discussion on this stuff :'3 i have little people to talk to bout decor and design. And all this that goes into story and art.

Sincerely- @mrstsung (lady tsung,arttrampbelle)

*note i dont do mk12 shang. I will do any other shang tsung. Thank you*

[rust-bearer]

Ahhhhhhhh I got some childhood nostalgia and I just had to throw it onto the zombie apocalypse au. Probably could’ve just made a small post for this but I dunno, been a while since I did zombie stuff so I figured I’d let you in on it.

Was doing a little spring (?) cleaning and found my old Nintendo NES system I got a while back, cause y’know, absolute fucking nerd for most Mario games over here, and I was like… you know what. The zombie kids would probably love something like this.

I’d bet money that Swindle probably made sure their mansion farmhouse had solar panels built into it before everyone moved in. Based on where things take place, like, that might not be all that reasonable? I mean, where I live solar panels are common and highly encouraged if you can afford the original investment, and I’d bet he saw a way out of paying such high prices for utilities and just went all 🤑🤑!!!! with it because, well, of course he did.

Cue Swindle arguing with poor self-employed dude from Texas who’s explaining why they can’t just install solar panels where the house is, there’s little to no reliable sunlight and the trees would cover most of the rays and the house’s roof isn’t positioned right!! and—but Swindle is having NONE of it. He gets the solar panels, goes on to get into a whole debate with his bank to try to throw the charges off as fraud.

Anyway…. Solar panels kind of sort of mean somewhat reliable power? In the right circumstances maybe? OR. ORRRR you could do generators. Do both is what I’d do if I wasn’t broke but hey, it’s Swindle, he’s probably got more money than the fucking… whoever is the richest person or something.

SO. My overall hc is that Blast Off is the sort of resident techy person of the group, and I’d bet anything that on his occasional trips out to find good and interesting stuff to mess around with in his office/room/living quarters/etc, he brings back one of those old Nintendo consoles for the kids (and himself) to play with. The good thing is that he has one of those old-fashioned televisions as well, and it pairs really well with the NES console to give some nice sort of 80s vibes. Thank god for the solar panels, or… maybe the generators. Both?

Good news: the children love it! Blast Off gets a kick out of setting it up for them, and since it requires no internet, they’re good to go!

Bad news: once they get to a rather difficult level in one of the various Mario games Blast Off owns (projecting onto him because Mario is fucking AWESOME), nobody sleeps without hearing the cries of frustration from one of the few kids after they’ve lost the level for the umpteenth time. To everyone’s surprise, about three days’ into the struggle, Onslaught takes on the task of overcoming the problem level. Cue him sitting up at three am with all the kids snoozing around him, hunched over with glazed red eyes as he’s got a death grip on the controller and stares so hard at the tv as it depicts the whole “GAME OVER” title for the millionth time. He doesn’t get much sleep that night, and only stops trying to beat the game after Blast Off comes out and threatens to turn off the entire system because he “can hear the stupid machine from all the way across the house every single time Onslaught loses the level and it’s starting to get annoying.”

So yeah, I looovveeeee the old Nintendo games (specifically Mario games though) and I LOVE zombie headcanons, so I had to throw them both together! I think that’s it for now though.

God Swindle commits so much tax fraud. He does it, and does tons of it, but they can never make any of the charges stick if they ever even come up with a charge at all. Very mr sticky fingers, very ‘I donate a lot to the police every year…’ and whoops they just so happen to lose evidence and whoops, that ‘speeding ticket’ a new officer wrote up is all gone now. And so is the new officer. Though that’s also more inline with- everyone else in the family, too.

I think Swindle would be genuinely interested in casinos. He likes them on a financial level, of course, but he really has an interest in them on other levels too. If he cared enough he might’ve opened one himself, but that’s a lot of playing nice with people 24/7, too public facing. He’d definitely have friends who own them. ‘Friends’. Maybe visits them sometime, does some networking, the works. Vortex ironically is the one who might understand the ‘appeal’ of it the best, but he thinks it’s really boring; he’d rather ruin someone’s life and do it 1 on 1, not string hordes of people along for ever. Bleh.

I’d like to imagine it’s a combination of Blast Off AND First Aid coming up with the video games thing. Blast Off has a few, has a passing interest in them, but restoration as a hobby is the lowest on his list of interests. He initially balks, though, when the kids clamor to play too. Because they’ll get it dirty, or won’t play it right, or they’ll be too loud, really- but he eventually decides it’s not a bad idea. Lets them play Pong, of all things. Eventually he brings it up to First Aid, and First Aid mentions that he’d been trying to find some game consoles or the like, things they can play that won’t kill their power (handheld would be nice), but it’s- he never really cared a lot before, not since he was younger, and he doesn’t know what to look for anymore. So Blast Off goes with him next time they scavenge, despite Onslaught making a face about it.

First Aid hotly debates himself whether it would be psychologically harmful or helpful to bring the children games where they kill zombies.

[jellimac-sims-stories]

Simfluencer

Jellimac

---

Chapter 2

I love that I live in the city now. Each day brings a new influence. The people, the food, the art, and the architecture. Everything is so different from Oasis Springs. It's exactly what I was hoping for. Every day is so inspiring! Or it could be that there are a lot of things around with an inspiring emotional aura. Either way, I’ve been nonstop painting since I got here. 

What I don'tWhat I don't love is that my pieces don't seem to sell. I tried selling a few of my older pieces to make room for new ones at the flea market outside my building my first weekend here. Only one sold. I left feeling really disappointed. It took me a few days to get over it. Probably doesn't help that I’m trying to sell art outside of the art museum. 

My art style is mainly pop and abstract but only my realism paintings have sold for any significant amount. Back home I used to mostly sell paintings from references of people’s vintage cars from Moonlight Falls and Roaring Heights or landscapes of Glimmerbrook and Old Town. I thought the move out to the city would help me get a new perspective and hopefully new customers. That's all anyone ever talks about when they want to become a famous fashion designer or artist, you know. Going to the city. Becoming inspired in some new way. Gain new customers and become so famous that your pieces sell for motherloads. I`d like to say that money isn’t my motivator but a little padding in the bank wouldn’t hurt.

Jonah is basically the only person who had ever purchased my original pieces. He’s posted about it on his social pages and his fans did like it. Not as much as they liked his shirtless pictures but I did get a few followers from his posts. He’s also donated a few of my pieces to his fans. For him, it's a good way to gain more fame. His fans do seem to love the paintings but I'm sure if it's only because they got them from him. Did I forget to mention that he's a major celebrity? The only one in Oasis Springs. He’s really made a good name for himself and I appreciate all that he does to get mine out there as well.

I’m not completely internet illiterate; I already have an insta, twitter, and a website, but Jonah has been bugging me to make everything more streamlined so after several texts back and forth one afternoon we set everything up. I am now the proud manager of a social media empire named Cosmickitty; since that was already my nom de plume. 

I took my new empire for a test drive. A few photos of my new downtown area, photos of my work around my apartment, inspirational quotes, and some cute selfies shamelessly self-promoting my other pages on each platform as I went. Over the next few days, I watched as twitter followers followed my insta and insta followers followed by twitter. Notification of new followers and likes came chiming in. I guess maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. 

I had almost fifty followers by the end of the first week. The pics of the city got a few likes and the selfies too mostly from tattoo pages saying they like my ink or asking if I could model for them. A few of my posts of me painting got the attention of the other artist flea markets in the area. KryticZeuz invited me to sign up for the flea market in the Spice Market. Thinking it couldn’t be worse than the last flea market, I snagged a street gallery wall for an upcoming weekend and I tweeted that I’d be there. 

The Spice District has a totally different vibe from the Arts Quarter. Honestly, I feel that this should be the Arts Quarter; murals everywhere, everything is so colorful from the building to the food to the people. Looking around I can’t help thinking that I probably should have moved here instead but I knew I wouldn’t want to run into Josh’s ex-girlfriend who lives here. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I don’t like that woman. 

The flea market here was very different from the one near my apartment. Less art and more handcrafted or collected items. The table next to me was full of crystals. I bought a rare alexandrite from Selvadorada while I waited for buyers to come up to my stall. I was beginning to have the same experience that I’ve had in the past in terms of selling but then this one guy came up to my selling wall that I didn’t expect. He didn’t even look like the type to shop at a flea market. He was a few shakes away from tall, dark, and handsome. Yeah, he was tall but lean and perfectly dressed with chestnut brown locs that had the sort of style that is meant to look messy on purpose. Way too sophisticated for my style. 

It’s a borderline heatwave this Sunday but there he was looking fresh and cool in his suit as he perused my art pinned up for sale. He looked as if he’d just come from some important meeting about something really important for someone really important with some important people. He had that sort of air about him even with his suit jacket open and a few buttons on his dress shirt unbuttoned. I took a deep breath, told myself to not be intimidated, and queued up my best sales pitch as I approached him, “Hello sir. I'm glad you've come by my display today. Is there any piece in particular that you'd like to know more about?”

“I like your figure painting but I'm afraid I like pieces that have much more...interesting subjects,” his voice was much deeper than I would have anticipated and I caught a hint of a southern drawl...

Can't wait for more? Read the whole story on my AO3