#I NEED TO MAKE A POLAR PATCH

[elodieunderglass]

Honestly thought I'd never hear the word "usborne" again. My mom used to live and breathe that company, and while I certainly don't regret a fair chunk, I do find it amusing as I look back now. I legitimately thought it had fallen off faster than Juice+.

In reference to a post where i mention my kid has the usborne “see inside germs” book.

So if people don’t know, usborne is a weird publishing company that has done indispensable books for British children for generations; they’re in every library, school and nursery, and have shelves devoted to them in every bookstore. They are how many people learned to read, and are the originators of many hyper focuses. They’re famed for doing educational lift the flap books for all ages, like “see inside your body”, as well as as the ubiquitous touch-and-feel series, “that’s not my….” In which a mouse comments improbably on various creatures not being their creature. “That’s not my dragon,” the mouse says, inviting you to stroke a dragon with a patch of fur on it, “its tummy is too soft. That’s not my dragon,” on the next page, where the dragon’s ears are lined with textured paper, “its ears are too bumpy.” This seems like such an inefficient way to find one’s missing dragon, a fact that simmers underneath you through endless repetition. Why does the mouse own so many things (pirates, ducks, polar bears) and why is it interrogating other people’s pirates etc by feeling their legs.

At any rate, turn a parents’ house upside down and these books fall out.

Which is why it’s completely hilarious that they are also an MLM.

Well. Kind of. In the old school sense. It’s less about signing up a pyramid scheme and more about getting a random citizen to buy a crate of perfectly popular books and try to sell them on from their home. It’s very traditional for Mums On Maternity Leave to do this. Pre-social media and online ordering, they’d hook up other mums at toddler group. Today, they post awkwardly on social media. The idea is that buying from another parent is cheaper than the bookstore, and they get to keep the markup. They get intense about things, and I believe they attend conferences. Nobody makes a huge amount of money and it’s unclear how undercutting local bookstores is helpful; it’s also basically the same RRP as Amazon I think.

And the books are perfectly respectable and sell perfectly well in bookstores.

So. Like. This marketing scheme is completely weird. Why?? Why does it still exist? People buy the books normally! You don’t need to promote them aggressively! You don’t need elaborate independent local middlemen schemes! You can just buy them! I have never understood this. I just file it under one of those weird mat leave hustles.

But don’t worry OP. They’re still going. They’ll never stop. The thing is that your mom got bored and online sales probably ate whatever residual profit margins were left and it’s probably very liberating for everyone to grow out of the “that’s not my cow” stage, but Usborne books are going strong.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine calling Law ‘Captain-kun’ by accident while helping Bepo with his costume...

“Y/n, I need you to help Shachi with the- are you listening to me?”

You were scrambling around the room gathering varying styles of fabric and materials in light and dark shades. You had noticed the captain of the Polar Tang walk in but you were far too occupied.

“Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush to work on something for Bepo.” You passed him on the way to the door, absentmindedly pressing a feathered kiss to his cheek. “I’ll help Shachi later, Captain-kun.”

Dashing out as quick as possible, your eyes drew down to the items in your arms, mind wandering to the bear in dire need of your creative assistance.

Scissors, glue, red fabric, kiss…

You nearly bumped into Penguin and a few other crew members in the rush, throwing out your mental list. Rounding the corner, you entered the room where Bepo was waiting. His paws rubbing together nervously as he looked at the various costume items that he had gathered on the floor.

“I’m back. Don’t worry. We’ll patch something great for you to wear at the show.” You assured and added the items in your hand to the small pile. “There’s different kinds of fabric and a leather belt that Shachi wasn’t using.”

“Did the captain see you?” Bepo asked and you knew how he had been denied to attend at first by the stoic leader.

“He was there and saying something about-”

Captain-kun…

You gasped and dropped a roll of ribbon you had been holding, fingers flying to your lips. Heartbeat drumming against your chest, your whole body suddenly felt uncomfortably warm.

How had you been so distracted? He was your temporary Captain and you treated him like a lover who had done this dance many times.

“I called him… I can’t believe I said it out loud.” You buried your face in your hands. How did you let this happen? You were due back to the Thousand Sunny in a few days. You shouldn’t have let these feelings grow.

Bepo’s eyes widened when he pieced it together - you were in love with Trafalgar Law.

“Captain!” He squealed and sped out of the room quicker than your mind could register.

Shit.

Collecting yourself, you rushed out and chased after the damn bear. If he spoke to Law, it would make things so much worse.

Zipping through the corridors, you ran back to the spare room barging through the doors and starling a few other crew members. They looked at you with puzzled expressions before returning to their business. Scanning the area, you saw no trace of fluffy ears or a spotted hat and your stomach dropped.

Where were they? Retracing your steps to outside the door, you turned to the left and stared at an empty corridor.

The library. Law’s usual haunt.

You took off in that direction desperately hoping that you weren’t too late. It was another series of twists and turns aboard the ship and you’d be sure to mention it to the Heart Pirate Captain on your way out.

When you made the last turn, it was a beeline to the library and as you neared, there was a black, white and orange object drawing close.

Bepo. He seemed frightened and was… running away?

Whatever he was up to didn’t matter. As you started to get a clearer sight, you stretched your arms forward with every intention to latch on to the furball when - very suddenly - you were enveloped in a blue light.

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: To be continued? I've actually yet to get to Law in the anime but I've seen so many clips, I just couldn't resist! x

Happy Valentine's Day!

[hyukakisses]

— yandere hyuka headcanons!

pairing: huening kai x reader!!

plot: just random yandere hyuka thoughts!!

warnings: english is NOT my first language, nothing i write should be taken seriously, (SMUT!), emo, mean, brooding, yandere hyuka basically dating sweet reader who’s a loser too kinda.. (probably a lot more warnings to list)

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

-yandere hyuka who would avoid you at first at all costs, internally cursing at himself to not fall for you each time you waved at him during school with a gummy smile on your face

-yandere hyuka who would groan quietly to himself when he saw your perky self walk over to his empty lunch table, screaming at himself ‘don’t sit here please don’t sit here’ only to smile when you sat next to him

-yandere hyuka who would look forward to seeing you; not wanting to admit it because he’s stubborn but he even learned your schedule just so he can have an excuse to talk to you <3

-yandere hyuka who would act like he hated your clinginess, but secretly loved how you needed him; he just hated how you kept calling him ‘the bestest friend ever!’ but he managed

-yandere hyuka who would eventually gifts you things, nonchalantly sighing at your thank yous. “for me? hyuka you’re the best! thank you!” you’d squeal hugging the taller male, you were excited that your bestfriend gifted you a stuffed animal however you were aware of the hidden cameras planted in them. “yeah yeah tell anyone about this and i’ll kill you alright?”

-yandere hyuka who shamelessly got himself off using your used panties, that was if you weren’t in your room touching yourself of course. hyuka hated how badly he wanted you

-yandere hyuka who grew bored of just watching over your room through his monitors, and waited until you were gone to the mall to snoop around your bedroom. pretend to cringe at how much pink was is in but secretly loving how cute you had everything set up. grinning mischievously as he looks under your bed to find your journal

-yandere hyuka who would melt at your journal entries, reading over and over again about how much you loved the black haired male, how much you craved for his love and validation hoping to god the emo boy just noticed you and reciprocate the same feelings back :(

-yandere hyuka who would print out your entire journal, making copies so he can sneak back your precious notebook before you could notice. his ego inflating every time he re reads them <3

-yandere hyuka who would subtly show that he wanted you from now on, buying polar opposite matching bracelets from hot topic bringing them to school the next day. “give me your arm” you obeyed with a confused blink, before letting out a gasp in shock. “hyuka! thank you! i’ll treasure this with my life!” you hugged your arm once huening kai place the bracelet on you. hyuka rolling his eyes resisting to smile

-yandere hyuka who would try to act annoyed when you begged to go over his house, “fine but you better bring those sour patch candy i like so much” but deep down hyuka was excited for you to comeover immediately shutting off the surveillance vidoes on his monitors

-yandere hyuka who finally asked you to be his girlfriend after months of being just friends, cringing at the loud squeals and giggles you’d let out when you replied with an eager yes, immediately latching his lips onto yours as in attempt of shutting you up

-yandere hyuka who would mansplain to you about whatever video game he was playing, squinting his eyes at you when you kept losing, “no you idiot i already told you press down on circle then press on square are you deaf??” “n-no” “okay so stupid then”

-yandere hyuka who was obsessed with eating you out, getting drunk on how your pussy tasted and on the sweet sounds you’d make when you were close <3

-yandere hyuka who would quickly go from nonchalant to possessive and controlling when you two got together, “oh you are so not leaving in that outfit get changed” “i don’t want you hanging out with that girl anymore you hear me? im your boyfriend im all you need” “why can’t you see that you need me?” “you better not leave me or i swear to god i’ll kill you”

-yandere hyuka who would often make you cry due to his mean nature, but always gained your forgiveness whenever he’d baby you and apologize, even if he didn’t feel sorry he just knew it was something you needed to hear

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀ ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

a/n: i missed writing ;(

[moonydustx]

Law buying an Bepo bear to his shy girlfriend!

I loved the idea! I made a small adjustment on the "buy" issue, I hope you don't hate me for it. And of course, I hope you like it.

The Bear and The Target

Lawx F!Reader

warnings: fluff, F!Reader is a little more shy/reserved in this one, Law is a great boyfriend (as always)

a/n: I really loved this idea, Law doing cute things for his s/o is my weakness.

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

The Park's lights almost blinded you, as well as people pushing against each other, competing to get to the most sought-after attractions first. Despite having your arm side by side with your boyfriend and watching him dodge the countless proposals of "try this game and win thousands of berris" "bet and compete for the top prize", you were still dazzled by how magical the place seemed. .

"Are the two annoying people going to be a couple for the whole park?" Penguin appeared at your side, taking your arm and watching Law sulk. "Captain, don't be annoying."

"Unfortunately, I'm here for work" he pointed out, turning his gaze towards you. "But you do not."

"And I can't go to work with you?" you asked

"It's not really a job, I just need to figure something out." he tried to dodge the question, not wanting to give too many details. "In the meantime, why don't you enjoy a little night with them?"

"We can go on the roller coaster and then go to the monster house."

"No monster house." you and Bepo responded in unison, both of you clearly unhappy with the proposal. "Can we go in the bumper cars?" Bepo proposed and saw you nod.

"See you later then?" you turned to your boyfriend, who just nodded and watched as you and the group of friends left.

As much as Law was against lying in any situation in a relationship, he had just lied to you and it wasn't one of the things he was most proud of, but he had a good reason.

A few months ago, on another island, he had seen you looking at a huge teddy bear and not buying it. It took a few days for the subject to come up and he asked you why you didn't ask and again, shyness was an excuse.

Law was a reserved person, by pure choice - and almost as a personal whim. However, you were indeed shy. The only people who could break your shell a little were your crewmates and even Law had had trouble starting to flirt with you, not being able to know if he was understanding the few signals you gave in the wrong way.

For that reason - and because his eyes almost exploded when he saw you do or have something cute - he knew that that park was the best place to find what he was looking for so much, that cute and huge bear.

He just didn't expect to find exorbitant prices or bears uglier than any patch he had ever heard of, it was impossible to find something perfect.

In the distance, he could see you and the other crew members gathering around a little tent, as he got closer he saw it was one of those old throwing games, where there was definitely some trickery hidden. Seeing you further away from the others, he arrived quietly, stopping right behind you.

"What are we doing?" When he saw you turn around, scared, his hands soon found your shoulders, reassuring you. "It's just me."

"It makes me calmer, but not less scared." you laughed, your hands itching to clasp against Law, but it wasn't something the two of you usually did in public. "Well, we're trying to win something."

"And you, why are you staying away?"

"This guy at this stand is one of those funny charlatan types who love to meddle." You held back a laugh, seeing his expression darken.

Before you could continue complaining about the man, Law's mind immediately wandered to what was in the background: an immense, white, perfectly stitched polar bear that was just an orange uniform away from transforming into Bepo.

"I am going to try." Law's speech surprised you, making you follow him to the edge of the bench.

"The pretty lady decided to try?" the man said in the most charlatan way possible, but Law responded immediately.

"No, in this case, her boyfriend." He took out some coins and placed them in front of the man. "Which one do I have to hit to win one of the prizes in that row?"

"That one." he pointed to the smallest of them all, further back. "But I warn you that it may take some time."

"Captain, everyone tried and no one succeeded." Bepo commented, clearly more concerned than he should be with the simple game. Meanwhile, you remained closer to him, silently watching the bet unfold.

"There, five rings, five chances." the man passed the pieces to Law.

He tried a few times in a row and failed each time. Both Law and his friends were already sighing frustrated with the fact that almost twenty-five rings thrown in a row had escaped the hole.

"There has to be some trickery in this." Law snapped, frustrated with not getting the bear he knew you wanted. "You're fooling us all!"

"Me cheating?" the man said cynically as he accepted more coins and gave Law more chances. "You offend me like this."

"Well, captain…" Shachi approached his side and picked up one of the rings, slamming it against the counter in front of the two. Soon after, he threw a small piece of paper towards the bow and hit it. "See, you're the bad one, captain."

Law quickly connected the dots. The rings were made of some metal material - which could interfere with the weight or even have a magnet pulling it - and the paper ball was not. One look was enough for Shachi and Penguin to understand that they had to act.

"I'll try again." Law muttered, more as a point of warning to his colleagues than anything else.

"Come on man, confess, there's a scam here." Penguin pulled the guy's arm in a falsely gentle way, stealing your attention along with it. "There's no point in deceiving us."

"I got it!" Law's surprised voice drew the two of you back to the captain's attempts, who was now smiling broadly in the man's direction. "So, my prize…"

"How did you get?" the man shouted indignantly, going to check if he had actually succeeded. "I mean, okay, you can choose your prize."

"Come on, you choose." Law turned to you, seeing your eyes light up at the proposal. "Although I already suspect what your decision is."

"The cute Bepo over there?" Your voice was excited, but in a way that only he heard.

Immediately, Law pointed to the huge white stuffed polar bear, which the man reluctantly removed from the wall. Law's laughter remained contained as he watched you almost itch to reach the bear that the man handed you.

"It's so cute!" You squeezed him, burying your face against his soft fur. "It's so good, it's the best gift I've ever gotten."

"This version of Bepo at least lets us squeeze him." Ikkaku joined you, squeezing the teddy bear as well and listening to the real version of Bepo's mumbles.

"You guys squeeze me too much sometimes, I need to breathe."

"We have the need to squeeze cute little things!" you pressed the plush against your arms.

There was a little relay of who would squeeze your bear - which yes, you nicknamed B2 or as Bepo, the second of his name - until they were back at Polar Tang.

"So, did you like the gift?" Law's voice entering the room was enough to cheer you up. "Does that mean he's already stolen my side of the bed?"

"Just until you come here."

"As if I wasn't already offended since you have to squeeze cute things." he grumbled and it only took seconds for you to throw yourself into his arms, covering any trace of skin and face you could find with smacking kisses.

"You.are.the.best.boyfriend.in.the.world." with each pause, it was a new time that your lips met Law's, this time causing a louder laugh to echo from him. "I loved the gift."

"And I'm glad you liked it." He quickly kissed your lips. "I'm going to take a shower, then can we spend some time together?"

"Me, you and B2?"

"Okay, just tonight. I'm surrounded by bears that give me a hard time." he pretended to be offended, knowing that your reaction would be another kiss on him.

Despite the grumblings - and the exorbitant amount of money spent on the attempts - the vision Law found was worth it. You lay on his bed, one of his t-shirts on your body and attached to your arms, the huge white bear. You matched cute things and for him, that would be worth any game - even if a certain devil fruit power had helped him this time.

[pomegranate-pen]

Daym sis !! It took you this long to finally do your reqs ? Better late than never ig, ok but fr tho I’m glad you’ve decided to do your reqs for lackadaisy. Cause I was starting to worry !! So I’m glad your ok <33

Anyways, may I req a Rocky Rickaby x rich (closer to a billionaire) Fem! or gn! reader headcannons? Who is kinda polar opposite to Rocky? They’re kind, social, friendly yet calm, reserved, secretive and kinda mysterious because of their status? And it’s not like they got this money from some distant cousin, they had to work hard.

I can also see them spoiling Rocky in little, subtle ways. Like when his violin is broken from his rumrunning, the reader gifts him with a new one, and despite having no note to specify who exactly gave it to him, he can probably guess who it is. Can this also be like a friends to lovers kind of thing? That’d be cool.

Btw u dont have to do this if u dont wanna, or u can do this later, No pressure ! Make sure to take care of yourself, take breaks and have a wonderful day !!!

Rocky Rickaby x rich!gn!Reader headcanons

A/n: what?? Pomegranate pen actually keeping her promise and releasing something at a weekend?? That's impossible!!! Nsjwjwjwjw anyway, hi dear anon!! Tysm for requesting, I will admit, this was very fun to write,especially since I really missed writing for lackadaisy these few days. Thanks for requesting!! I hope you enjoy this!!

-----

Maintaining a bountiful fortune costs your time, soul and trust and in the world where greed overtakes all morals people have, you always need to be careful on whom you let see your weakness, whom you let see your heart.

So safe to say, you weren’t so keen on trusting a place so deeply rumoured as the lackadaisy speakeasy, let alone become a sponsor of it.

Or at least, that was the case before you met the infamous bootlegger of the place, Rocky Rickaby when he suddenly crashed face first with your car in a farmer's field late in the night. You truly thought he was dead at that moment, you were certain you just accidentally killed someone late into the night because the exhaustion of your soul-consuming meetings finally caught up to you. but then as you got out of the car, as you tried to reevaluate the situation and tried to find any sort of farm or shelter that you could ask help from, a sudden groan of pain gets your attention. The grey cat looks at you with the wooziest eyes and the silliest of grins.

One of his hands shakily goes up to point at you. “…has the nightingale sent her prettiest angel to take me away?” His voice was anything but coherent. “…why I must be quite the lucky…poet..”

As relief washes over you to the fact that he’s breathing, at the very least, you notice a nasty wound opening up on his head, a bit of blood ready to gush out of it. then you notice the box of what seems to be bottles of moonshine that spilled with him as he was running away.

 Before you could think of anything else- you hear grunts, gunshots and yells from across the fields, and in that moment of flight or fight, you grab onto the concerningly lanky cat and drive away.

Through all your yells to yourself about literally taking an injured stranger into your car and running away, you also realized why you felt such an urge. Your brain has seemed to connect the dots.whoever this guy was, it was obvious his job was the unsavoury kind, a bootlegger. An occupation you remember having a long time ago, a job you remember being your worst. Perhaps,you’ve felt sympathy for the guy and decided to save him before things got deadly.

Nevertheless, with an abundance of self-deprecation and worry for what will be the outcome of your quick and on-pressure decision, you took him to your house.

Maids and servants alike gasped in horror when they saw their boss caryying a man who looks like he took a deep swim in the mud, blood trickling down his blue suit and staining your own clothing. You quickly ask for their aid and bring him to the fireplace, let the maids patch him up while you get a proper change of clothes and soothing tea as well.

 The servants urge you to go to bed, to be rest assured that when the mysterious lanky cat wakes up they’ll be there to explain everything to him. Yet, you could not let anyone face the burdens of your silly and perhaps bad decision (though some of your employees commented that you could be deemed heroic in a certain lens. “some might even say a tad romantic!” a certain person with a known interest for romance novels added. You dismissed it all.)

You decided to stay the night sitting by the arm-chair next to the couch he laid on, awaiting his clarity while taking a small nap yourself. With a grunt and roll of their eyes,some from amusement and others from worry, they brought a blanket and a pillow and left you be. Next to the lanky, drifted asleep and bad-shape cat that was covered in bandages.

You were expecting at least a decent night’s sleep, since there’d be no way he’d be able to wake up quickly after the day he’s been through.his body would definitely take its time in recovery. What you hadn’t expected, was hearing rustling and shifts in the night, ones you dismissed as servants just shifted around to finish up the last of their tasks, but then hearing creaks, stumbles and the sound of something clunking and shattering on the ground before finally, a creak of a window opening. That is when your eyes immediately opened, and you were met with the cat who was hit with your car tangled up in his own bandages trying to make an escape. You both froze for a moment. Him, being midway out with his escape, his hand still latched on the window, and you, still in your armchair with a frazzled expression.

 “uh…sorry about that….” His eyes trail to the ground.”statue?...” he gives a nervous grin while pointing at the shattered artifact.he then looks up and gives a nervous chuckle. “and the torn drapes.” He then looks around again and winces. “annnnd the shattered vase.”

 After that failed attempt to escape seemed futile, you brought him back in and briefly explained the situation. Rocky told you his side of the story- though, with a few skipped parts and avoiding to get into details about what specifically failed so spectacularly in his task to retrieve some booze.

You talk for a little while, giving some small brief summaries about who you are and what you do, and gleefully answering some silly questions Rocky had about your status. You found yourself enjoying your talk with Rocky, talking to someone who's so incredibly lively. You've been around soulless businessmen for so long that you almost forgot what it’s like to actually speak to a person, to forget about status and money, to not read between the lines of every sentence someone utters. You finally felt like yourself for a moment, like something about Rocky’s eccentricities and unhinged nature has rejuvenated your soul.

 Yet, as Rocky looks back at the clock, he quickly gets up to leave, needing to go back to his work before anyone assumes he’s dead. You tried to convince him to stay a while longer, to sleep for the night so he can heal up. yet he didn’t falter. He quickly put on his coat and hat, looking at you with a charming smile. He tilts his hat, giving a small bow before graciously saying goodbye.

What he hadn’t noticed, was that your eyes trailed his clothing for a moment and noticed something intriguing. Something that could hint at where he truly works at. A small pin, in the shape of a club.

  After that, a few weeks have passed by before you decide to finally visit. Your main reason was to just make sure he’s  okay and that his injury has finally healed up. yet a part of you knew that you were also deeply curious about him, and had felt the urge to know more about his life. Perhaps, he’ll rise the ranks like you did. Or maybe just like old co-workers of yours at the bootlegging game, he’ll get himself into deep trouble.

Nonetheless, you visited the Lackadaisy speakeasy. The place you heard a cacophony of rumours and chats about, yet never visited it yourself. The empty mine with dark lights engulfed in the room left a lot to be desired. something was missing, something crucial that was holding the whole place up together. The very few guests that were there however, were noneother than the wife of Atlas May and…

  “…Wick Sable?!”

Wick chokes on his drink, tail frizzing up in distress as his ears perk up and take a note of the familiarity of that voice. He coughs out the drink he was meaning to enjoy (even if it’s taste wasn’t really in the highest of tiers in terms of ‘enjoyable’), looking at you with a stressed smile. “ah…L/n..what an unexpected surprise.”

Depending on your relationship with Wick, this interaction could go in three ways. If you're good friends, he’d have to suffer a bit with both your teasing and Mitzi's about not telling you about his frequent trips here. If you're mere acquaintances, then though he’d have to suffer only  Mitzi's teasing about him being so secretive about his visits, he’d still be forced to explain his relationship with the place to you over a few drinks. If you’re known to be rivals or enemies, well, not only would he be utterly displeased by the idea of you finding his go-to bar, but what would irk him more would be how Mitzi will try to make you a regular patron around here. often shutting up any sort of jab or retort Wick has to your musings and letting you have control over the conversation.

 As you start getting accustomed to the ambiance of the mine and the piercing galre of the bartender, the man of the hour-well, your hour, at least, comes in. this time with his suit only a tiny bit ruined by dirt and tears, but still not as bad as his awful state when you first found him.

His eyes beam when he sees you, and he immediately starts flirting with lines of poetry and song while he shoves the cart of illicit beverages he found into a small orange cat;s hands and takes the abandoned violin that was on the bar counter to strum up a tune.

Everyone expected him to be flat out rejected, to be ignored and maybe even weird out the new patron. But low and behold, the new patron merely giggled and smiled, matching his playful energy and cheeky jokes.

Safe to say, everyone’s jaw was dropped, while Rocky himself was beaming with joy and pride.

After that, you’ve become a regular at the speakeasy.often visiting the place to mainly speak with Rocky and develop a nice friendship with him. 

Your conversations with him were always insightful, since he was the very clear opposite of you. While you were known in society for your calm demeanour in different matters (often preferring to panic in the inside rather than out.), Rocky was known to be loud and spontaneous. No one knew how on earth you two got along so well, but you somehow did. He was able to bring charm and joy to a conversation, something that you desperately missed from your old life. While you were able to become the reasonable one in the relationship, often convincing Rocky to avoid causing some disastrous chaos that would’ve left the speakeasy in shambles.

Rocky’s clumsiness and acts of chaos has left him with more injuries and broken things than he can count. It’s something that you took note of immediately, and whenever you’d see his clothes, your heart would often ache for him. But you knew Rocky. You knew he wouldn’t accept something you bought with your own money, that though he’d act grateful, he’d somehow make some gleeful excuse to try to avoid taking it. And so, you’ve decided with the help of a few delivery boys to send these gifts to him anonymously instead. 

Now, though in everyone else’s eyes, Rocky doesn’t look changed at all, the keen observer would notice his new and clean clothes, and his violin of fine-quality and craftsmanship.

You’d often rant about your job with Rocky. Especially when you had had enough drinks in your system to forget the poised and strong demeanour you must uphold. Ever since you reached the top of the board, you’ve become a fish out of water. You cannot relate nor have any sort of fun with the people you’re often forced to speak with. Especially since the people in question are known to be incredibly judgemental and gossip-obsessed.Rocky would always hear your whines and try to cheer you up with a song, or maybe a funny story he can tell about another dangerous and concerning adventure he had for the day. Since he noticed how you always smile when he rambles on and on, and though you often give him a concerned glance, you never stop listening to him with a smile.

Another way you try to help Rocky is by helping the speakeasy itself, since you know how much it means to him. You sponsor the place and try to help Mitzi when she’s in any sort of financial difficulty, and you try to strum up some business by making your clients and fellow businessmen have meetings in the speakeasy.

This has created a sort of conundrum for the guests you bring. Because unknown to their own knowledge, they're often the same people you rant about all the time to Rocky. And so, Rocky always has the urge to somehow scare and intimidate them with his insanity. He treats them just as he treats Wick, sometimes even worse. He jabs, he nudges and he pretty much freaks them out when you’re too distracted talking about the business at hand to even notice his actions. And the worst part is, whenever you do look up, Rocky immediately stops his actions and gives you a charmed smile and innocent wink. As if he’s been as innocent as an angel the entire time. 

After a while, it didn’t take long for your maids to realize that Rocky wasn’t just some simple friend to you, but in fact, someone you’re into. And they made this theory of theirs become known to you when they suddenly start asking for details about your day at the speakeasy, specifically your hangouts with Rocky. You try to deny it at first, but you couldn’t help but admit that something about Rocky was different from others. To you, your friendship with Rocky was an entirely new and incredible experience, an experience that you cherish deeply, and…you wouldn’t mind for it to become something more.

So,you start initiating the flirtations, ones that Rocky immediately answers back with equal amounts of enthusiasm. Slowly but surely, your hangouts have become dates, and your rants have become more personal.

soon enough, and in the other’s point of view, shockingly so, you two have become a couple. An incredibly cheesy one at that.

 For a moment, everyone thought perhaps this was a sugar baby type of situation. That was until they all wondered what on earth could their lackluster bootlegger and not-half-bad violinist Rocky Rickaby offer in the sugar baby aspect of it all? they all came out with an utterly empty answer. However, though the relationship was far from such a thing, it doesn’t mean you don’t like showering Rocky with gifts all the time. Especially since you firmly believe he deserves at least some sort of nice luxury in his life. You’d often try to do the same old trick of anonymously gifting them, but he has caught you once in the act, and with a bountiful amount of kisses has convinced you to drop the whole act.

Rocky may at first be in somewhat of a denial for such attention. Though he will gawk, be giddy and awe-struck about the amount of gifts he is receiving, a part of him would also somehow feel guilty for it. like he doesn’t deserve such nice things in life. it’s a guilt that you quickly scold him for, and as punishment by even more gifts for him than before.

Though you are of high-status, both you and Rocky still prefer dates in the dark streets of Mississippi rather than any luxurious restaurant. You once tried to go to one  of course, but the night has ended with the kitchen going on fire and Rocky somehow freeing all the lobsters from their tanks. Nevertheless, it was still a great night, one where you couldn’t help but laugh in pure freedom because you felt all the societal pressure in your shoulders wash away. It didn't matter who the guests were in that restaurant, it was of no importance what they whispered about you or your partner whom you wouldn’t trade for the world. All that mattered was you and Rocky, dancing under the stars as rain started to pour.

Teasing Wick has become a mutual activity for you two. An activity Mitzi even joins in from time to time. Lord knows how many jabs Wick has to put up with whenever you both are at the speakeasy at the same time (which unfortunately for him, is quite the common occurrence.) it’s gotten to the point where whenever he sees you two together he gives out an exhausted sigh and asks Viktor to give him a stronger drink.

There are times where Rocky wonders if he’s worth it. times where the stink eyes and glances of high society get in his head a bit and he wonders if he’s truly worth all the reputational risk you’re putting yourself through. Those are the times where you must quickly go against such negative thoughts, to grab his hands and tell him firmly that he’s worth more than anything to you. though it never truly diminishes his insecurity in the matter, it does help lower it down.

You’re absolutely horrified and livid when you realize he’s living in his car. It’s something your heart breaks at and you quickly urge him to just come live with you instead. You have plenty of room to spare and would absolutely adore having him around. It’s an offer you wouldn’t let him say no to, no matter how hard he tried. You even offer to buy a house for him, if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of living with you. He quickly denies having such a thought, and in the end, he moves into your mansion.

Some maids are weirded out by him while others are a bit fearful. But they quickly learn to accommodate him, especially since he’s always bringing you into a better and happier mood. Hell, you even renovated one of the rooms to be his own workshop of sorts where he can write his poems. He never really uses it, preferring to work on his ideas with you beside him instead, but he does put some sizable amount of things in there. things he has definitely brought from his cluttered car.

Even though everyone had their fair share of surprised reactions when they finally found out you were dating, it was Aunt Nina who was the most shocked of all. she never believed Rocky could find a normal partner..let alone one that’s known for their wealth and successful businesses such as yourself. She even once wondered if Rocky has used some sort of devil witchcraft to steal your heart.

There are often times where both of you tend to falter, tend to become incredibly silent after a conversation that went wrong. You both have so many secrets you can’t share, so many thoughts and feelings that are hard to describe, let alone explain where they came from.Rocky admires you, he truly does. Because he knows you’ve worked hard for your status in the world, and that it’s normal for wealthy people to have secrets of their own. You are the same, you respect him, and know that his life wasn’t the most simple nor easiest. Yet both of you cannot help but sometimes get frustrated by the other for keeping important things a secret. You more than him, you will admit. You can’t help it. You don't want him to be in danger. But knowing how strange and unhinged his luck is, you’re certain he’s bound to get into deep trouble if he doesn’t find someone to help him. And that’s when you ask him, why can’t that someone be you? Why can’t he rely on you when he needs it? You’re not a simple person, you have more than enough resources and money to protect both you and him from any problems.

and that is when he asks why can’t you be more open to him,yet ask him for such an act? He knows very little about your family life, and there are times you skip a few stories and relationships you had with certain people you rant about. He has noticed, he just never spoke about it.and then, a chilling silence takes over the room. And you both need time to collect your thoughts before you talk.

In the end, you both reach out for each other at the same time and talk things out, and though you both know talking about each other’s past will take a lot of time and trust, you’re willing to wait for it, and will never forget that you’re by each other’s side for when you’re in need of help.

Though you both are an unexpected match for sure, that doesn’t falter the endless love and admiration you have for each other.

[grandlinedreams]

Hello, I've been reading Ur fics lately (esp with law) and I love them

I was wondering if you could make angst? Like... Let's say there's this big battle, like the one in wano, where reader and law gets separated, but after the battle Law finds reader unconscious and being treated by chopper who then explains they had severe wounds and might need blood transfusion.

It also just happens that he was gonna confess to them after all of the chaos so that they'd be safe in his arms. And that might not even happen since now they have each foot on both worlds.

I'd imagine Law going along with talking to them even if they're unconscious just to keep them here in the living. (If they're alone ofc)

I hope that's alright

OUGH some angst my beloved,,,i can absolutely do that, I hope I do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: angst, serious injuries, some brief medical talk, hurt/very little comfort, keeping in line w Law literally calling none of the Strawhats by their names, open-ended]

Truth be told, Law doesn't keep much of an eye on you during battles. It's hard enough keeping an eye on what the enemy is doing ㅡ especially if the Strawhats are involved. They ㅡ especially their captain ㅡ have a knack for blowing careful plans out of the water and he's forced to play damage control until it's over.

You're also fully capable of looking after yourself, and he trusts you and your skillset. So when he doesn't immediately find you once things have started settling down, he doesn't think much of it.

When five minutes turns to ten, then to fifteen, then half an hour, however, alarm bells start going off in his head. You've never taken this long to check in with him. Has something happened? Have you beenㅡ

No, he won't let himself think of that option. Not now, not ever. So he keeps as optimistic as reality will allow him ㅡ until he hears his name being called.

"Oi, Law!"

It's Sanji. "What is it, Blackleg?"

The blond's expression is his first warning that whatever it is, it isn't pleasant. "Chopper told me to come get you."

That's his second warning. Eyes narrowing and trying to rifle through potential scenarios from best case to worst, he follows Sanji silently until they reach where Chopper is ㅡ and Law stares at who the little reindeer is desperately trying to patch up.

It's you.

Part of him whispers harshly that this is par for the course, that he's worn out his luck in terms of keeping you safe ㅡ another notes that he's never seen you look more fragile.

"What happened." It's a demand as he takes in the bandages all over you, trying not to think about how most of them are already soaked with blood. Your blood.

He barely hears the explanation above the rising ringing in his ears, but he gathers enough to find it in himself to mentally curse your perchance for heroics. He's told you time and time again that your self-sacrificing attitude will get you into trouble, and now it has. (As if he isn't guilty of it too from time to time, but that's neither here nor there.)

"They need a transfusion," he says, kneels to gather you into his arms, trying not to focus on how limp you are. "I'll take it from here."

If Chopper protests, he doesn't stick around long enough to hear it. From the second he sets foot back on the Polar Tang, it's a blur.

Bandages are stripped from you and replaced, an IV of fluid in one arm, blood in the other. One of the defaults to joining the crew is letting him know blood type so he has it on hand, and he's never been more grateful to have it and less so that he needs to use it.

For the next few hours, Law hardly blinks, barely lets himself breathe ㅡ afraid that somewhere between, you'll slip from him. He can feel the cold circle of death around you, measuring, evaluating. Deciding if you go, or if you stay.

He wants you to stay. If there were ever a way to guarantee that you do, he'd do it now ㅡ but there isn't. So he sits, counts your breath (in, out. Up, down.), and waits.

And he talks.

He tells you that you're a pain, that you need to stop thinking so much of others before yourself, that a quality like that is only admirable until it means a grave instead of life. That you shouldn't be so cavalier with your time, that there are people who care about you, and what are they supposed to do if you die?

He means himself in that too. He's gotten accustomed to your presence, the way you've slotted your way into his routines and habits like you belong, and perhaps, were he a romantic, he'd say you always have. But he hardly has time for that, barely lets himself entertain it ㅡ too soft, too ideal, too good to be true. Always too much of something.

But he wants it, wants you ㅡ wonders if he'll even get the slimmest chance to tell you now. Law could tell you now, but he doesn't. He's afraid if he does, it'll tip the scales further from his favor and he'll undoubtedly lose you.

He can't do that.

It isn't fair ㅡ but when has the world ever felt fit to treat him in a way that could ever be seen as kind enough to be called fair?

[worstjourney]

The Millennials' Polar Expedition

A year ago today (23 Nov 2022), I launched Worst Journey Vol.1 at the Scott Polar Research Institute. This is the text of the speech I gave to the lovely people who turned up to celebrate.

As many of you know, my interest in the Terra Nova Expedition was sparked by Radio 4’s dramatisation of The Worst Journey in the World, now 14 years ago.  The story is an incredible story, and it got its claws into me, but what kept me coming back again and again were the people.  I couldn’t believe anyone so wonderful had ever really existed.  So when I finally succumbed to obsession and started reading all the books, it was the expedition members’ own words which I most cherished.  These were not always easy to come by, though, so plenty of popular histories were consumed as well.  Reading both in tandem, it soon became clear that, while there were some good books out there, there was a lot of sloppy research in the polar echo chamber as well.

I also discovered that no adaptation had attempted to get across the full scope of the expedition.  There has never been a full and fair dramatic retelling, all having been limited by time, budget, or ideology from telling the whole story truthfully.  I was determined that my adaptation would be both complete and accurate, and be as accountable as possible to those precious primary documents and the people who wrote them.

So the years of research began.  I moved to Cambridge to be able to drop in at SPRI and make the most of the archives.  Getting to Antarctica seemed impossible, but I went to New Zealand to get at least that much right, and on the way back stayed with relatives in Alberta, the most Antarctic place I could realistically visit.  I gathered reference for objects wherever I could.  Because Vol.1 takes place mainly on the Terra Nova, which is now a patch of sludge on the seabed off Greenland, I cobbled together a Franken-Nova in my mind, between the Discovery up in Dundee and the Star of India��in San Diego.  I spent a week on a Jubilee Sailing Trust ship in order to depict tall-ship sailing correctly.  I’m sure I’ve still got loads of things wrong, but I did all I could, to get as much as I could, right.

But still, everyone I met who had been to Antarctica said, “you can’t understand Antarctica until you’ve been there, and you can’t tell the story without understanding Antarctica; you have to go.”  So I applied to the USAP’s Antarctic Artists and Writers Program, with faint hope, as they do “Ahrt” and I draw cartoons.  But I must have blagged a good grant proposal, because a year after applying, I was stepping out of a C-17 onto the Ross Ice Shelf.  The whole trip would have been worth it just to stand there, turn in a circle, and see how all the familiar photographs fit together.  But the USAP’s generosity didn’t stop there, and in the next month I saw Hut Point, Arrival Heights, the Beardmore Glacier (including the moraine on which the Polar Party stopped to “geologise”), and Cape Crozier, and made three visits to the Cape Evans hut.  Three!  On top of the visual reference I got priceless qualitative data.  The hardness of the sound.  The surprising warmth of the sun. The sugary texture of the snow.  The keen edge on a slight breeze.  The way your fingertips and toes can start to go when the rest of you is perfectly warm.  The SHEER INSANITY of Cape Crozier.  The veterans were right – I couldn’t have drawn it without having been there, but now I have, and can, and I am more grateful than I can ever adequately express.  With all these resources laid so copiously at my feet, all I had to do was sit down and draw the darn thing.  Luckily I have some very sound training to back me up on that.

Now, this is all very well for the how of making the book, and, I hope, interesting enough. But why?  Why am I putting so much effort into telling this story, and why now?

Well, it means a lot to me personally.  To begin to understand why, you need to know that I grew up in the 80s and 90s, at the height of individualist, goal-oriented, success-driven, dog-eat-dog, devil-take-the-hindmost neoliberalism.  It was just assumed that humans, when you get right down to it, were basically self-interested jerks, and I saw plenty of them around so I had no reason to question this assumption.  The idea was that if you did everything right, and worked really hard, you could retire at 45 to a yacht in the Bahamas, and if you didn’t retire to a yacht, well, you just hadn’t tried hard enough.  Character, in the sense of rigorous personal virtue, was for schmucks.  What mattered was success.  Even as my politics evolved, I still took it as a given that this was how the world worked, and that was how people generally were – after all, there was no lack of corroborating evidence.  So: I worked really hard.  I single-mindedly pursued my self-interest.  I made sacrifices, and put in the time, and fought my way into my dream job and all the success I could have asked for.

And then I met the Terra Nova guys.

What struck me most about them was that even when everything was going wrong, when their expectations were shattered and they had to face the cruellest reality, they were still kind.  Not backbiting, recriminating, blame-throwing, defensive, or mean, as one would expect – they were lovely to each other, patient, supportive, self-sacrificing; in fact the worse things got, the better they were.  They still treated each other as friends even when it wasn’t in their self-interest, was even contrary to their self-interest.  I didn’t know people could be like that.  But there they were, in plain writing, being thoroughly, bafflingly, decent.  Not just the Polar Party – everyone had to face their own brutal realities at some point, and they all did so with a grace I never thought possible.

It presented a very important question:

When everything goes belly-up, and you’re facing the worst, what sort of person will you be?

Or perhaps more acutely: What sort of person would you rather be with?

It was so contrary to the world I lived in, to the reality I knew – it was a peek into an alternate dimension, populated entirely with lovely, lovely people, who really, genuinely believed that “it’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game,” and behaved accordingly.  It couldn’t be real.  There had to be a deeper, unpleasant truth: that was how the world worked, after all.  I kept digging, expecting to hit bottom at some point, but I only found more gold, all the way down.  How could I not spend my life on this?

Mythology exists to pass on a culture’s values, moral code, and survival information – how to face challenges and prevail.  Scott’s story entered the British mythology, and had staying power, because it exemplified those things so profoundly for the culture that created and received it.  But the culture changed, and there were new values; Scott’s legacy was first inverted and then cast aside.  The new culture needed a new epic hero.  You’d think it would be Amundsen, the epitome of ruthless success, but “Make Plan – Execute Plan – Go Home” has no mythic value, so he didn’t stick.  The hero needed challenges, he needed setbacks, and he needed to win, on our terms.

Shackleton!  Shackleton was a winner!  Shackleton told us what we knew to be true and wanted to hear at epic volume: that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard, you will succeed!  (Especially if you can control the narrative.)  Scott, on the other hand, tells us that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard . . . you may nevertheless die horribly in the snow.  Nobody wants to hear that!  What a downer!  I think it’s no coincidence that Shackleton exploded into popular culture in the late 90s and has dominated it ever since: he is the mythic hero of the zeitgeist. I am always being asked if I’ll be doing Shackleton next.  He has six graphic novels already!  That is plenty!  But people still want to tell and be told his story, because it’s a heroic myth that validates our worldview.

That’s why I am so determined to tell the Scott story, because Scott is who we don’t realise we need right now – and Wilson, and Bowers, and Cherry, and Atch, and all the rest.  The Terra Nova Expedition is the Millennials’ polar expedition.  We’ve worked really hard, we’ve done everything we were supposed to, we made what appeared to be the right decisions at the time, and we’re still losing.  Nothing in the mythology we’ve been fed has prepared us for this.  No amount of positive attitude is going to change it.  We have all the aphorisms in the world, but what we need is an example of how to behave when the chips are down, when the Boss is not sailing into the tempest to rescue us, when the Yelcho is not on the horizon.  When circumstances are beyond your power to change, how do you make the best of your bad situation?  What does that look like? Even if you can’t fix anything, how do you make it better for the people around you – or at the very least, not worse?  Scott tells us: you can be patient, supportive, and humble; see who needs help and offer it; be realistic but don’t give in to despair; and if you’re up against a wall with no hope of rescue, go out in a blaze of kindness.  We learn by imitation: it’s easy to say these things, but to see them in action, in much harder circumstances than we will ever face, is a far greater help.  And to see them exemplified by real, flawed, complicated people like us is better still; they are not fairy-tale ideals, they are achievable. Real people achieved them.

My upbringing in the 80s milieu of selfishness, which set me up to receive the Scott story so gratefully, is hardly unique.  There are millions of us who are hungry for a counter-narrative.  My generation is desperate for demonstrations of caring, whether it’s activism or social justice or government policies that don’t abandon the vulnerable.  We’ve seen selfishness poison the world, and we want an alternative.  The time for competition is past; we must cooperate or perish, but we don’t know how to do it because our mythology is founded on competition.  The Scott story, if told properly, explodes the Just World Fallacy, and liberates us from the lie that has ruled our lives: that you make your own luck.  What happens, happens: what matters is how you respond to it.  My obsession with accuracy is in part to honour the men, and in part because Cherry was the ultimate stickler and he’d give me a hard time if I didn’t, but also because, if I’m telling the story to a new generation, I’m damn well going to make sure we get that much RIGHT.  It’s been really interesting to see, online, how my generation and the next have glommed onto polar exploration narratives, not as thrilling feats of derring-do, but as emotional explorations of found family and cooperative resilience.  We love them because they love each other, and loving each other helps get them through, and we want – we need – to see how that’s done.  It’s time to give them the Terra Nova story, and to tell it fully, fairly, and honestly, in all its complexity, because that is how their example is most useful to us.  Not as gods, and not as fools, but as real human beings who were excellent to each other in the face of disaster.  I only hope that I, a latecomer to their ways, can do them justice.

[marvelmusing]

Helping Hand

Pairing: Alpha!Billy Russo x Fem!Omega!Reader

Summary: As your boss, Billy has always taken care of you. When your heat becomes too difficult to handle, he takes care of you once again.

Warnings [18+]: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, a/b/o dynamics and anatomy, brief mentions of Billy’s childhood.

Word Count: 5.4K

My Masterlist

“Where the hell have they gone?” you grumble to yourself as you open the same kitchen cabinet for the third time. Unfortunately, the little green box you’re searching for doesn’t miraculously appear in front of your eyes and nerves stir in the pit of your stomach.

Huffing out a sigh of frustration, you lean against the kitchen counter and pick up the tiny handheld fan, clicking the button on the side rather aggressively as you hover the fan over your neck, tilting your head back to achieve maximum cooling from the little device.

Just as you’re considering emptying the contents of your entire kitchen, you hear a knock at your front door.

His scent is recognisable before you even open your front door. Fresh cotton, expensive cologne, and his own unique fragrance that is undeniably Billy Russo. The alpha you’ve been working for over the last year and a half as his personal assistant.

He’s dressed for work, hair slicked back perfectly with his suit and tie all arranged neatly on his figure. The polar opposite of you, currently wearing a small cami top and a pair of sweatpants hanging low on your hips.

His nostrils flare slightly as he breathes in the scent of your apartment, the air thick with your oncoming heat. But you aren’t concerned by his reaction. If there’s one thing you’ve learnt about Billy, it’s that he has a godly level of restraint when it comes to his instincts.

It’s a little harder for you and the rush of his scent has you gritting your teeth to suppress the urge to tug him closer and bite.

“Looking for these?” he asks, holding out a small box. “You left them on your desk.”

Just what you had been searching for. The box of patches that would curb some of the effects of your heat, making it more manageable without a partner to take care of you.

“Thank you so much.” Heaving a sigh of relief, you take the box from him with a grateful smile. “You’re an absolute lifesaver.”

He flashes you a wide smile.

“I could get used to hearing that.”

Breathing out a small laugh, you smile at him.

“I’m sure you could.”

His smile softens as he leans his shoulder casually against your doorframe, giving him the proximity to study your expression intently.

“You need anything else?” he asks.

Shaking your head, you look down at his shoes, shinning with polish that you can still smell the remnants of on his fingertips, almost buried beneath the eucalyptus soap he uses. He must have polished them this morning.

“I’m mostly sorted, thanks.” He nods slowly in response. “Do you…?”

He lifts a brow, encouraging you to continue. Anvil is the closest thing you have to a pack, meaning Billy is the closest thing you have to an alpha, and your pre-heat omega brain is urging you to provide for him.

“Do you want to come in for some coffee?”

He glances down subtly towards his watch and warmth blooms over your skin as you remember that he has to get to work soon. Unlike you who has been given the entire week off.

“Sorry- I’ll let you get to work.”

He places his hand firmly on your door to prevent you from shutting it as you step backwards.

“No, no. I’d love a coffee,” he says, pausing to look into your eyes. “If that’s okay?”

You nod, leaving the door open for him to follow you into your apartment.

Selecting your two favourite mugs, you begin making the coffee, aware of Billy unbuttoning the front of his jacket before he rests his elbows casually on your kitchen island. The weight of his eyes on you send a flood of warmth through your body and you pick up the box of patches.

Gesturing lightly with the box, you don’t dare to risk a glance at him as you say,

“You don’t mind if I…?”

He shakes his head resolutely.

“Not at all.”

As the kettle simmers on the stove, you retreat to your bedroom. In your eagerness to remove your sweatpants, the cuffs remain stuck to your ankles, and you wrestle with the fabric frantically for a moment. Once you’re done, a thin sheen of sweat is glossing over your brow which you wipe away with your palm.

Rummaging through your closet, you tug out a part of loose cotton shorts and pull them on.

The patches you buy can be placed anywhere on your body, but for you the dose is most effective on your inner thighs. Peeling the wrappers off hurriedly, you place one on each thigh and feel them instantaneously ease the discomfort that had been building in your body. A soft groan of relief rumbles in your throat as you tilt your head back, breathing heavily as you are finally able to relax.

Freshening up in the bathroom a little first, you feel a lot more put together as you return to the kitchen and continue making the coffee.

“Better?” he asks, his gaze dropping down momentarily to eye your bare legs.

“Yeah thanks.”

He nods with a small smile.

“No problem.”

“Thanks for giving me the week off,” you add as you pour his mug of coffee.

He shakes his head, offering you a nod of appreciation as you nudge his steaming mug towards him.

“I’ve told you before, you don’t gotta thank me for that.”

“I know. But you don’t have to give me the week off.”

He shrugs casually, sipping on his coffee. There’s a pleased hum from Billy as he swallows the drink and internally you preen at the thought of pleasing him.

“You always make sure my schedule’s clear during my rut,” he reasons.

That’s true. Billy’s rut only usually lasts a few days, and you hum quietly in acknowledgement before you speak without thinking.

“A week on Tuesday. We started syncing a few months ago.”

Syncing usually happens when an unmated alpha and omega spend the majority of their time together, ensuring that your cycles wouldn’t coincide with one another’s.

Billy raises a brow at you, the corner of his mouth twitching when he observes you realise what you had just said.

“I know it’s got nothing to do with me, but I’m glad you don’t take suppressants. I’ve seen too many omegas make themselves miserable for the sake of pretending to be a beta.”

Looking down, you shrug lightly, not disagreeing with him but still feeling the need to defend omegas who do take them. Suppressants don’t stop a heat from happening, but they remove the scent and make the symptoms easier to manage, so that most omegas can continue with their daily lives during their heat. For some omegas, like you, the negative side effects outweigh the positives, but you can understand the benefits.

“Sometimes they’re the safest option.”

“I know,” he says softly. There’s a level of understanding in his tone that makes you frown.

Billy has always been a considerate boss when it comes to the differences between you and some of his other employees. Due to the nature of the business, there aren’t many omegas working at Anvil. The majority of the field operatives and trainers are all alphas, with a handful of betas. Even on the administrative side of things, it’s mostly betas. The number of omegas can probably be counted on both your hands, which is something that you think bothers Billy.

Aside from the private military services, a lot of Anvil’s clients are omegas, or high-ranking alphas looking for extra protection for their mate. There are times where Billy comes off as intimidating but having you by his side always seems to ease the tension from some of the more nervous clients – the omegas seeking protection from abusive or unstable alphas.

Shifting in your seat, you try to ignore the slick in your panties, hoping that Billy won’t notice the scent. Billy is ridiculously observant and highly tuned into what an omega needs. The moment a distressed omega is in his vicinity, he seems to know.

He swallows down the last of his coffee and you don’t want him to leave.

“I finished off those reports,” you say, eager to continue talking with him even for a few moments longer.

He frowns slightly.

“No more work from now onwards until you’re back in the office.”

When you smile at him, he gives you a look that has you sighing.

“Okay.”

He smiles, standing up and placing his mug in the sink.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

“No problem.”

He hesitates.

“I’ll send you a text in a few days, just to check in.”

You nod. Billy is somewhat aware of how your heats end up. The worst is usually over after the first two days.

“Thanks.”

“Look after yourself, alright?”

“I will.”

»»---------------------►

The moment Billy sees you calling his mobile he presses the answer button, standing up from his desk mid-conversation with the senator and turning to face the window as he says your name. The high-pitched whine that he gains in response sends a thrum of need through his body, but he needs a verbal confirmation that you aren’t hurt before he allows himself to indulge in thoughts of you.

He repeats your name and when you don’t respond he does something he’s never done to you before, putting a commanding edge into his voice as he says,

“Omega? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Billy. I need you.”

A pathetic half-cry half-sob escapes your lips, and when it reaches Billy’s ears he clenches his jaw so hard he feels it in the base of his skull. He breathes out slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s so bad Billy. I’m so wet and empty and I can’t finish by myself.”

With Billy’s ears hyper focusing on every minute sound from your end of the line, he can hear the sound of your wetness as you slide your fingers erratically, chasing your pleasure. A low groan rumbles in the back of his throat that he fights to suppress.

“You tried your fingers?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“And your toys too?”

He hears you huff with a small growl as you snap weakly,

“Yes Billy. I can’t do it.”

There isn’t much bite to your words, but the fact that you’re talking back at him means you aren’t thinking clearly. Billy needs to bring you back to yourself enough to talk to him coherently.

“I don’t like that tone, sweetheart,” he says sternly. Then his voice softens, “I know you’re hurting but you need to be patient for me. Alright?”

“Sorry, Billy.”

He doesn’t like the sound of you whimpering so sadly.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna count to ten and you’re gonna breathe for me, alright? In for one, out for two.”

He talks you through the rest of the numbers, counting upwards until your breathing is less frantic and your whines have stopped. Billy stays quiet once he’s done, listening to your bed sheets rustling as you sit up.

“Billy?”

There’s confusion in your voice and the sound is clearer - you must have placed the phone up by your ear to talk to him.

“Hey sweetheart. How you feeling?”

“Awful.” He hears you breathe out a small laugh before you pause to think. “Did I call you?”

“Yeah you did. You were having a bit of a frenzy.”

“Shit. Billy, I’m so sorry-”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“What?”

Billy can’t stop himself from smirking at the dumbfoundedness in your voice, as his question catches you off guard.

For a moment, all you can do is stammer over your words but Billy gives you time.

“You don’t have to,” you whisper quietly.

“And if I wanna help you?”

“You’re at work.”

“I’m the boss, sweetheart. I can leave right now if you want me to.”

He can hear you thinking it over and he wonders whether your worry about being a nuisance will be overruled by the need between your thighs.

“I want you to.”

»»---------------------►

It seems like forever before Billy arrives at your apartment.

His scent and the sound of his voice are what alert you to his presence, even before the knock on your door is encouraging you to tug on a bathrobe and hurry to the door.

In the back of your mind, you’re aware that he’s talking to someone in the corridor but that hardly matters to you as you open the door and wrap your arms around his neck. He catches you immediately, firm hands on your waist as you press yourself against his chest and nuzzle your nose into the hollow of his throat.

He chuckles quietly and the motion of it sways your body as you cling to him.

“Hey sweetheart.”

“Missed you so much,” you mumble into his shirt, breathing in the scent of him.

The sound of someone saying your name draws your attention somewhat back to the present and you turn your head to see Emily, the beta that lives next door to you and always handles your deliveries when you’re in heat. She also wards away any alphas who linger too long beside your front door.

“I didn’t know you had an alpha,” Emily says.

A purr rumbles in your throat as you absentmindedly begin to nuzzle against him once again. Then you nod.

“I asked him to come over.”

He flashes her a smile that has you weak in the knees.

“Billy Russo.”

She nods.

“Okay, Billy Russo. But if you even think about hurting her…”

Billy removes his hands from you, holding them up in surrender as he nods.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. She’s more than just an omega to me.”

Weakly, you tug on his tie, fidgeting with the luxurious material as you struggle to remain focused on their conversation and wish it would be over soon.

Luckily, Emily seems to be appeased by the charming alpha and before you know it Billy is stepping into your apartment.

Alphas are naturally strong and you know that being a marine had allowed Billy to hone his strength to an almost supernatural level. As a result, it feels like the easiest thing in the world when he lifts you into his arms, your legs curling around his waist instantly.

“You came,” you sigh. He smiles at you.

“Course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?”

His forehead grazes against yours, the tip of your nose almost touching his.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Please.”

The moment your lips meet, pleasure buzzes in the back of your head, threading its way down your spine, and you moan softly. His mouth moves leisurely, but you can sense how eager he is with each determined tilt of his head in an attempt to get closer to you.

He sets you down at the threshold of your bedroom and a rush of self consciousness prickles over your skin as he observes the tangle of blankets and sheets and cushions that consist of your nest.

He presses a kiss to your temple and you shiver as he asks softly,

“You mind if we change these sheets first? They smell like frustration - need some happy smells for a little omega to relax on.”

You nod.

As Billy gets to work, tugging the sweat soaked sheets off your mattress, you walk over to the side of the room and switch on both your nightlight and air freshener.

He opens up your side cabinet, picking up the bottle of cologne that sits there. The same cologne he wears to work.

All omegas have a comfort scent, something that helps soothe them on lonely nights before they find their mate, and you’re one of the lucky ones that has found their comfort in a bottle that can be spritzed onto your pillow.

Billy sprays a little into the air above your mattress, allowing the tiny drops of fragrance to linger in the air and settle into the fabrics of your nest.

“You’re good at this,” you say softly. “Knowing what I need but still asking for permission for the important stuff.”

His presence alone has reduced some of the burning need inside you, though you both know that this calm won’t last long.

Billy keeps his eyes low as he soothes out a wrinkle in the sheets, shrugging lightly as he says,

“Lotta omegas present early when they have a dysfunctional pack dynamic and the group home I grew up in was run by a beta.”

Aside from mentions of Frank - an alpha he served with - Billy has never talked about his family. He gives Anvil the same dedication that would be given to an alpha’s pack, and now you understand why.

“You grew up in a group home?” He nods and there’s a small pause before you ask, “Is that why you don’t like the idea of suppressants?”

He lifts his eyes up to meet yours. Then he nods again.

“Kids shouldn’t have to deal with meds like that.”

Nodding in agreement, you sit down in front of him as he settles himself against your headboard.

“You’re a good alpha, Billy.”

He smiles softly as he loosens his tie, pulling the fabric away from his throat before he begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Yeah?” he breathes out.

Staring down at his throat, you hum as you nod.

“Why do you think that?”

A frown creases at your brows as you register his question. Knowing why Billy is a good alpha is the easiest answer in the world, but the sight of his bare chest has you scrambling for words.

“Because you’re strong and kind and you protect so many omegas. You make me feel safe.”

He hands you his shirt and suit jacket, giving you an encouraging nod to add the clothes into your nest. His scent fills your nose and you try your hardest not to moan.

His chest is smooth and the urge to lick over his skin, leaving bite marks and scratches, is almost too much to bear. There’s a few scars littered over his body and you want to kiss every single one of them.

Once he’s completely naked, and you’re enveloped by his scent, he hooks a finger under the edge of your bathrobe that’s hanging onto your shoulder. He nudges it down, and the silky material pools around your body.

“Look at you,” he breathes out.

His gaze falls downwards, to the spot between your thighs, and you flush with realisation when you see your legs already parted widely as you kneel in front of him, presenting your glistening wetness to him.

“Turn around.”

Confusion fills your features as you stare at him but after a small pause you do as you’re told.

“Come lie with me.”

Soon you’re lying with your back against his chest, his arms around your stomach as your ass sits perched on his adonis belt. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and your entire body heats up within seconds, melting your coherency.

Billy smiles, hooking his legs over yours to spread them wide. He traces his fingers over your inner thigh.

“Little omega, you want to touch yourself like this, or d’you want me to do it?”

Dropping your head backwards onto his shoulder, you whine pitifully before responding,

“Can you do it, please?”

He presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He reaches down to peel off the patches stuck to your skin. “Let’s take these off first…” He stills when your fingers curl around his wrist to stop him. “Something wrong?”

“If you take them off, it’ll get worse.”

He shakes his head, smoothing his thumb gently over the material of the patch and you shiver at the warmth of his touch.

“Sweetheart, look how faded they are, they’re not helping you anymore.”

He’s right. The patches have gone from a soft tan colour to almost completely white. Giving him a nod, you whimper quietly as he begins to remove them.

In your desperation, you had stuck two on each thigh and by the time Billy has finished peeling them carefully from your skin your slick has smeared all over his stomach and you’re burning with need and embarrassment.

His finger slides in easily and a gasp chokes you as he reaches a spot further inside you than your own hands have ever reached. He moans softly against your ear, mouthing a few kisses over your jawline.

He curls his finger and you cry out. Canting your hips forward, you writhe against his touch as he begins to thrust into you.

“Shit, sweetheart. I’m not sure if you could take my knot.”

“I could,” you protest with a breathy sigh.

“Yeah? Brave little omega wants to take my knot?” You nod. “Convince me.”

He reaches down to the spot underneath your pussy, stroking the length of his cock slowly with one hand.

“Cream over my cock, make it nice and messy for me, then I’ll think about fucking you with it.”

He rests his palm over your abdomen, fingers curling down over your mound to circle your clit and you jerk violently in his arms.

The sweat glossing over your skin is clammy, though you’re hardly aware of anything except how close you are to the edge, your stomach swooping every time you think you’re about to peak.

“There we go, good girl, be a good girl for me.”

He presses a delicate kiss to the side of your neck and you cry out as your climax hits you. Whispering his name over and over, you succumb to the pleasure as it floods through your veins, down to your clenching pussy. His touches remain gentle as he coaxes your bliss into a simmering heat.

When he withdraws his finger you whine, especially when he gathers your slick together and begins to stroke himself using the mess you’ve made to glide his hand over the length of his cock.

“Billy,” you breathe out in a sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

“You okay?” he asks, his jaw tight with tension. Even while pleasuring himself, your comfort is the most important thing.

Rolling over, you drape your body against his, your breasts hanging near his face as you look down at him.

“Alpha, I want you.”

Taking his lower lip into your mouth, you give him a small nip with your teeth, and he growls.

Before you can even understand what’s happening, your back is pressed to the mattress with your hands pinned by your head with Billy’s cock slapping against your entrance as he grinds downwards.

As he pushes his cock inside you, everything else in your mind is removed. The only sensation you’re aware of is the sweet drag of friction as more of him enters your body. There’s so much.

“Breathe, sweetheart.”

A shuddering gasp wracks your body as you inhale raggedly. When Billy releases your hands, you reach up and grasp at your pillow, nails biting into the soft fabric.

With his hands now free, he squeezes both of your breasts, simultaneously groping them, pinching and rolling your nipples as you lie pinned down by his cock. It’s the perfect level of stimulation and it has your body barrelling towards another orgasm at an almost frightening speed. This has never happened before and you fear you won’t recover from this.

“Your heat makes you sensitive, doesn’t it?” he asks, breathing heavily as you nod. “Then it’s okay to cum again.”

“Billy I can’t-”

“Yeah you can. Just relax, omega.”

He groans as your second orgasm hits you, your pussy clenching weakly around his cock as your poor body attempts to adjust to the size of him.

Tears spill down your cheeks as his finger slides inside you, opening you up even further. He shushes you softly, a stark contrast to the wicked grin on his face as his finger presses against your tight walls, the digit almost suffocated by his cock.

“Easy, sweetheart, just gotta stretch you open for my knot.” The thought of taking his knot, feeling the stretch of it being pushed into you, has a glassiness filling your eyes. “You’ve already done such a good job, making it all slick and messy for me.”

“Billy…”

He hushes you.

“It’s alright. I know. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He slides another finger into you and uses them both to stretch you open even further. Gasping at the sensation, you throw your head back, bearing your neck for him.

He growls, lowering his face into the crook of your neck as he rocks his hips forward harshly. As his knot slides into you, your mouth drops open into a soundless cry.

He continues to rock his hips forward, the head of his cock nudging that sweet spot that has you clenching tightly with every thrust, all while his knot ensures that he remains snugly inside you.

Billy’s mouth descends on yours and the sound of fabric ripping is a distant memory as you sink your hands into his hair, urging him closer.

Both of you are panting frantically as you move against one another, chasing your pleasure. Billy growls and swears quietly, whilst you moan loudly and cry out his name.

His pubic bone grinds against your clit and you gasp into his mouth. He cups the back of your head as he bites down on your lower lip, grinning as you whine.

With his other hand he squeezes your breast before he trails his fingers down your side to grasp tightly onto your hip.

Electricity sparks down your spine, and you trace your hands down his chest, digging your nails into his shoulders as you cling to him, before you leave a trail of red lines over his skin.

He groans loudly and you clench at the sound of him so wrecked. His hair hangs down over his forehead, the perfect strands ruffled this way and that by your frantic hands.

His cheeks are flushed, his lips pink and kiss swollen as he breathes heavily. Dark brows furrowing, his mouth parts, then he grits his teeth in a near snarl.

“I’m close,” he rasps.

“Inside, alpha please.”

“Fuck.”

He presses his forehead against your collarbone, his breaths hot and heavy over your skin as he continues to swear quietly and you feel him shudder.

Nails digging into his hips, you urge him closer as he spills inside you, his hot spend filling you which sends you over the edge for the third time. Reeling from your high, you slump back onto the mattress and Billy lowers himself carefully over you, propping himself up with his elbows.

Without thinking, you smooth his hair back into place, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He smiles at you, his chest still heaving slightly with each breath. It’s thrilling seeing him like this, so worked up by you.

He tilts his face towards your palm and you begin to play with his ear, absentmindedly running your fingertips over the soft cartilage there. His eyes flutter closed as you run your finger over the shell of his ear, before you rub affectionately over his jaw. The scratch of stubble there sends a tingle down your arm.

“Want me to stay inside for a little?” he asks quietly, his voice rasping slightly in his throat. You nod.

“Please.”

He presses a kiss to your hand as you continue your exploration of his face.

Hands still shaking from the adrenaline, you trace over his nose and smooth down each of his eyebrows. There’s no frown lines marring his features in this moment and you smile softly at the sight of him so relaxed.

Once he finally does pull out, the action is accompanied by a flurry of kisses over your cheeks which makes your smile widen despite the pinch of discomfort.

“Come on,” he says with a sigh as he begins to move out of bed.

He chuckles when you loop your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face against his lower back as you prevent him from leaving. He gives your forearms a small squeeze before he pulls away from your hold.

When you whine, he turns around and cups your face between his palms. Without warning, he manhandles you into his arms, carrying you towards the bathroom as you shriek in surprise.

He leaves you to do your business in the bathroom, reappearing with fresh towels while you’re washing your hands. His cheeks flush a little when you take it upon yourself to clean him up, wiping a damp flannel gently over his skin.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen Billy shirtless. Usually after training sessions at Anvil he’ll end up tugging it off as he heads into his office, meaning you’ve caught a few glimpses of his bare chest or abs.

But now you have the opportunity to study every inch of him and you find yourself tracing your fingers lightly over the scar on his shoulder. It’s bigger than most of the others on his body.

Billy keeps his eyes low as he speaks quietly to you.

“At the group home, there was this guy who used to visit a lot. None of us kids had a proper alpha in our lives and we all flocked to him.”

The corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly before a shadow passes over his features. He rolls his shoulder lightly and you feel the muscle shift beneath your fingers.

“I was a small kid with a pretty face. He thought I was an omega.”

“Billy,” you breathe out softly, placing a hand gently on his forearm. As an omega, you’re well aware of what happens when a bad alpha thinks they can take advantage of an omega.

“I didn’t submit to him, even managed to land a few good hits before he broke my arm.”

“Does it still hurt?”

When Billy meets your eyes a shiver rolls down your spine. He shakes his head.

“It’s a little sensitive every now and then.”

Standing on tiptoe, you press a soft kiss to his collarbone, the spot just beside his scar.

“Thank you for looking after me, Billy,” you whisper.

He cups the back of your head, keeping your eyes on his as he says,

“You don’t have to thank me for this.”

His thumb rubs a small circle over the sensitive spot under your ear, right where the mating gland is, and your eyes grow heavy as a deep sense of contentment settles into your body.

“Let’s get to bed, hm?” he suggests.

With a sleepy nod, you take Billy’s hand and allow him to lead you to bed where your combined scents allow you to sink into a blissful sleep with Billy’s arms curled around you protectively.

»»---------------------►

Blinking awake, you mentally prepare yourself to be soaked with sweat, your thighs damp with arousal and desperate for Billy to fill you up again. Stretching a little, you frown when you don’t feel any of that.

“Billy?”

“Hm,” he hums, words muffled by sleep as he shifts closer to you, burying his face into your neck. “Yeah ‘mega?”

“My heat’s gone.”

He lifts his head up, frowning.

“Gone?”

He lowers his nose down to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he traces his way along your throat.

“You’re still in heat, sweetheart. I can smell it.”

“Well it doesn’t feel like it.”

“What do you-”

His voice breaks off suddenly and you feel him stiffen. A stab of hurt plunged into your chest as Billy untangles himself from around your body.

Then his hands trace over your neck, tilting your chin from side to side as he examines the skin there with a deep frown.

“I didn’t bite you, did I?”

Puzzlement evident in your eyes, you shake your head. When he doesn’t find a mark on your neck, he lowers his attention to your shoulders and collarbone. Once again, he doesn’t find anything.

Still feeling half asleep, and confused, you place your hand over Billy’s chest.

“Billy? What’s wrong?”

He breathes out shakily before he lifts his gaze to meet your eyes.

“I think we’re mates.”

That makes you pause.

“But you didn’t bite me…” A frown creases at your brows and you look over Billy’s neck and chest quickly before you add, “…and I didn’t bite you.”

He nods.

“I know.”

Soulmates are practically unheard of - an alpha and omega that don’t need a bonding mark to become a mated pair. But that’s the only reasonable conclusion for why the symptoms of your heat have vanished.

The bewilderment you feel is mirrored in Billy’s dark eyes and the two of you breathe out a small laugh as you lean into one another. Mouths meeting in a kiss, you thread your fingers through his hair and he tugs you closer as you both smile.

Billy is your mate and you are his.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[herzzgeist]

hi, could you write about law where his gf is just a clumsy mess. And she just hit her head on a open drawer, pretty hard. And know she is embaressed to go to him and ask for a ice pack. So she try to steal it unnoticed from his room. But of course she got caught.

And now she just try to played down, but it hurts like hell. He just care for her lil wound and something fluffy down the road. Maybe she remind him of cora. Ahhhh sorry for the spam

Pairing: Law x Clumsy fem!reader | Word count: 1.4k | Warnings: none

Synopsis: Oh look, another bruise. Didn't notice this one, silly me! Law can't stand the way you hold yourself - without care. Everytime he hears a faint 'Shit' or 'Ow' in the distance, he immediately considers it to be you, hurting yourself unintentioally again. What a drag. And yet another day, he finds you in attempt to smuggle something from the infirmary, observing you how you disfigure the drug storage. He actually has to speak up, until you finally realise you're not alone. "Law, it's nothing." - "Nothing can't turn red and blue and starts to swell like that (Y/n)-ya! Now hold still!"

A/N: Anon, I LOVE spam! The more details the better :3 - Here we have a fluffy OneShot! Thank you for your request, I must say I adore the clumsy reader trope ఌ (erm, since I walk on two left feet myself)

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

What a night, you think to yourself, as you stretch and writhe underneath your warm and comfy sheets. The cold hits you like you're being thrown into a pool of ice water, as you lift the shield of comfort, goosebumps prickling along your skin. Yawning in a still jaded state, you crumble off the mattress and of course hit your toe on the cabinet's leg. As you do every morning.

In pain you yowl a distressed little curse, hopping in place. It's straining you beyond belief, praying for some sort of miracle to rid you of those cursed two left feet. If not for the better, you should wear bubble wrapper clothes, this way you won't hurt yourself non stop at least. However, it is, dare say, not the most attractive fashion option.

In addition, you are practically obliged to see the doctor, who you happen to be in a relationship with, verily frequent. Naturally, whenever you arrive at the kitchen or common room within the Polar Tang, it is of your highest priority to avoid Trafalgar's death gaze, before he opts to drag you to the infirmary with those, as you may call them 'little' aches and pains you always put on yourself. Until now, they were ever so often not to be taken lightly and Law patched you up in no time. Shame fills you, embarassed that you're, simply explained, a klutz.

You enjoy it no less, the attention your aloof lover gives you and the petty and sarcastic comments he throws at you. Him being close to you. His warm hands cleaning any cuts and bruises and his voice stern yet reassuring calms you, no doubt. With that in mind, you can't help but notice your heart beating faster to the pictures replaying in your mind. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head wildly, in hopes to quickly forget what's caught up in your day dreams about a certain white hatted man.

Today is your turn in kitchen duty and you decide to prepare breakfast earlier than usual, for you have something special in mind to serve this fine morning. Looking through the storage, no drawer or door is left unopened and you search for the needed ingredients.

As you lean down to seek out the lower cupboards, your skill to dodge the edge of an open drawer abandons you. Close to your temple, you feel how heat shoots up that area, making you dizzy. Fingertips trace along your head, where the imprint has been knocked into. Everything threatens to grow black before you.

„Oh, please no. Not again.", you murmur in desperation, legs beginning to weaken and nausea builds up from your core. That was quite the hit. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, you hide your face in your shaky palms. In panic, you come to the conclusion, that you must reach the infirmary, fast. All without getting caught by your overly attentive boyfriend, seems close to impossible to you. "Ice pack . .", is what you groan and you are set on your destination.

On wobbly legs, you close the door behind you and follow the corridor, down to the infirmary. Paranoia creeps over your spine, eyes scanning every dark and shallow corner. Before you enter the room, you peek over your shoulder to make sure you aren't followed: „Good, coast is clear.", the metal creaks and you step over the doorframe.

In all nervosity you begin to mumble and rummage through the drug storage: "Where is this god damn thing. I remember him putting it-" - "A little to the left, sweetheart." Jumpscared by the deep rumble behind you, you turn in a quick spin and stand in your Captain's shadow. With all your might, you gift him your most hearty and lovable smile, greeting him: "Law?! Why hello my love I-"

Instantly closing the locker doors behind your back, you giggle exaggeratedly, trying to play it cool, avoiding the icy steel glare, coming from the doctor. He orders: „Show me." Almost too quick you retort his command with an overacted pout of your lips, questioning his indication. Closer and closer the heavy steps come your way, stopping before you. Law reaches for your head and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing the unmistaken bump.

An exasperated groan reverbs from his chest and he points at the examination table. "Now.", he commands and without a squeak, you obey. There you are again, seated on the cold metal plate. „Tell me what happend.", he utters, while washing his hands and putting on rubber gloves. There is no way you can escape his room anymore, unironically speaking.

Thus you twirl your thumbs in abashment, explaining: „I hit my head on a drawer in the kitchen about five minutes ago. I swear it's nothing, just a little bruis-" - „(Y/n)-ya, a little bruise doesn't turn red and blue and begins to swell at such an alarming rate. Now hold still." Ever so slowly, he approaches you, his grey orbs fixated on the injury. Inked and slender digits glide through your hair to get a better concept. Involuntarily, a hiss shoots through your teeth, as he palpates your scalp around the bump. Pins and needles trickling over your skin wherever he touches.

„Any dizziness, nausea or general weakness?" - „All three yes . . and think I was on the verge of passing out too.", by hearing your statement, which you formulate such a situation so nonchalanty is beyond Law's comprehesion. Oh how infuriated he is. Not hesitating once, he grabs the cleaning tools, anticeptics and cooling salves to get to work, patching you up again. It's become an everyday life chore for your dear Captain. Though he detests how imprudent and careless you are, he cannot deny how utterly adorable you appear at times, puppy eyes attempting to white wash every scratch on your body, not wanting to disturb him by all means. It is something he learned to love about you.

Yet somehow you remind him of someone. Somebody he used to care about alot when he was just a boy. Could it be? Why of course, Corazon. Well, at least you didn't burst into flames, like he did. Fortunately, you're not prone to smoke, to Law's approval. However, all the other stunts you deliver, are rather similar to Rosinante's, one could think you are related to one another. A smile tugs on the Captain's lips, as he finishes the treatment.

„What are you so happy about, darling?", you hum sweetly, earning a disgruntled click of his tongue, telling you it's nothing. You show your gratitude with a kiss to his cheek. It managed to elict a skip of his heart and he furrows his brows subsequently, hiding the red tint on his face under the brim of his hat.

Seeing him tidy up the infirmary, you make it your task to help him clean up after that little ‚operation'. „You should get some rest. Drink lots of water and take pain killers if needed. And for the love of god, please tell me, if any symptomps get worse, understood?", he growls through a tensed up jaw. You playfully nudge his side and chuckle softly: „I think I learned my lesson today. I'm grateful. Really appreciate your kindness and patience with me."

Kindness? Who on earth would call a powerhouse, a man as known as ‚the Surgeon of Death', kind? Only shaking his head and scoffing to your heartstring pulling remark, he huffs: „You're a curious one, (Y/n)" Side by side, you stand next to eachother, cleaning up the tool station. Through the corner of your eye, you notice his fleeting gaze upon you. Hence you return it, facing him with a querying expression.

An unexpected pinch on your cheek takes you aback, a small ‚Ouch' escaping you: „Oi, what was that for?" Law's thumb and index finger linger on the round of your face, not moving away, muttering lowly: „This is for being a fool, the clumsy mess that you are" removing his fingers from you, he gently places his palm back on the spot where he pinched you a moment ago „and this is for your troubles, my clumsy mess that you are."

Slowly he leans down to your level and lets his lips enlighten yours with the love he harbors for you, his blundering woman.

And as if nothing happend, the throbbing pain in your head disperses into thin air.

[zoi3e]

"call me later?"

- how you meet.

Requested by: no one

Warnings: mentions of suicide(Dazai), implied Mori's weird ass shit (Dazai), light mentioning of drugs (Dazai), mentions of kidnapping (Tetchou)

Charecters: Atsushi, Osamu, Chuuya, Ryuunoske, Ranpo, Kunikida, Poe, Fukuzawa, Sigma, Nikolai, Fyodor, Tetchou, Jouno,

Nakajima Atsushi

• you both met when Kyouka ran off one time while they were buying crepes.

• Kyouka kinda scared you as she stared at you bluntly while you just nervously smiled back before Atsushi found her and apologized profusely for her in-politeness.

"I'm so sorry! She uh... isn't very good with manners.."

"Oh, it's alright...'"

"YES! Uhm, I'm Atsushi Nakajima and this is Kyouka."

• He insisted on buying you some crepes in apology. You said no, but he really insisted.

• I geuss Kyouka was a wing woman.

Dazai Osamu

• Unfortunately, you two met through Mori.

• Mori at the time had found you before he got Dazai after his suicide attempt. He took you in at a time of weakness and you just wanted someone to give you attention. You'd later regret it.

• You worked alongside Mori when Dazai was given to him after his suicide attempt.

• You basically watched over him while Mori was in meetings, making sure he ate, and took his pills.? You were dead silent most of the time until after a few weeks and you warmed up to him.

"Uhm..."

"..."

"What was your name again?"

"... (name)..."

"Cool name! I'm sure you already know mine. Thanks for taking care of me I geuss. Mori Sensei's pretty weird...."

"...Agreed."

• From then you two beame friends and you usually patched him up after missions and Mori's weird shit.

Nakahara Chuuya

• You also trained under Kouyou when he came to the Port Mafia so you two met from her.

• He believed you to be a polite and calm person compared to other people he's met. COUGH COUGH DAZAI COUGH! Pardon me!

• You were actually squealing in your mind of how pretty you thought he was compared to your calm demeanor of what he saw. (ITS TRUE)

• You two and Kouyou would have tea often.

• Somehow you and Dazai were really close which blew his mind from the polar opposite personalities between you two.

• You 3 would often get put on missions together.

Akutugawa Ryuunoske

• You two met through Chuuya.

• Chuuya thought Akutugawa needed someone to be around and one of his subordinates (you) was perfect!

• And plus, you were good friends with Gin!

• Akutugawa was sort of angry at first but after a bit, he calmed down and you two just got fig tea together at a local tea house in Yokohoma.

• He sort of ghosted you after but you both worked on missions together from time to time.

• He'd get closer to you through Gin and your's friendship. Other than that, originally, he wanted nothing to do with you.

Edogawa Ranpo

• You were from the guild. (RAHHHHHH 🦅🇺🇸🍻🇺🇸🦅 MY PRONOUS ARE USA 🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅🍻 WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETER?!?!?!??🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅🦅)

• Poe would talk about you like a all mighty being and he'd talk about Ranpo the same way to you. So you both were really interested in eachother.

• One day, Ranpo came into Poe's house unexpectedly while you were there.

• You both looked at eachother up and down, tilting your head to the side at one another before introducing yourself to one another. It was sort of like the interaction between Nezuko and Muchiro before Hantegu showed up.

"So.... You are (Name), right?"

"Yes, I am. And you must be Ranpo Edogawa, correct?"

"Of course I am! I'm the best detective in the world, you must know me!"

"Poe said you enjoy sweets. I brought some chocolate-chip muffins over if you'd like some."

"That would be great!"

• Poe and Karl kinda just watched in silence before Karl followed you and Ranpo into the kitchen to try and get some crumbs that Ranpo would drop while eating.

Doppo Kunikida

• You two met in high-school, actually.

• He was a literal delinquent at the time and you were the student council president and you had to tutor him in math, algebra. (Lmao it's what he taught before the ADA if you didn't know.)

• You hated him a bit in the beginning.

• You both bonded over your abilities you two had that no one else.

• You two got out of high-school and didn't stay in touch.

• You ended up at the ADA and than boom! He was there after a few years too!

• Which rekindled a few things both of you thought you buried deeper than Oda.

(I have a headcannon that Kunikdia used to be a delinquent in highschool but got some big reality check that made him how he is now.)

Edgar Allen Poe

• KARL THE WINGMAN ! !

• Karl saw you in the book store while with Poe and for some reason really liked your scent. So while Poe was distracted, he ran after you which lead to paniked Poe and a racoon running after you because you had a danish in your pocket.

• Karl ran after you into 2 different stores until you sat down at a cafe and he jumped into your lap, breathing in your scent like it was cr@ck.

• Anyways, Poe put a tracker on Karl because of how much he runs off (lmao) so he found him at the cafe you were at.

• You were frozen because a racoon was just chilling in your lap.

"Karl! Kar- Oh, there you are Karl!"

"What?"

"I-I'm so sorry Mx, t-this is Karl and he must have chased after you, ple-please forgive me for h-his behavior..."

• He was litterially a blushing mess talking to you because he thought you were really pretty/handsome.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

• Yall met durring his training when you were younger.

• You, him, and that fossil man (Fukichi) became a friend group and you'd sneak out of your fancy private school that was across the street from their training building to go out on the Town.

• Later on, the school found out, and they told your parents so you were sent back to Tokyo away from them.

• So no more Yukichi.

• Until one day, you were working at your little bakery and then a man and a younger looking boy came in.

• The younger one ordered like half of your store but the older man caught your eye. It was like you've seen him before.

• And then you overheard the younger boy talking to the older man and said the name "Fukuzawa!"

• I looked over in curiosity and while the two paid I asked:

"I-is that really you Yuki?" (Nickname lmao)

"(N/N)? Is that you?"

"Ew get a room you two...."

• Anyways you two exchanged numbers and decided to talk more later

• It made him really happy lol

Sigma bbg

• You are Nikolai's bestie ofc.

• However, he liked you because you'd annoy everyone except him. Wonderful!

• Anyways you two met when Nikolai and him first met so (just a hc) they met at a meeting for the Decay of Angels

• You were honestly playful with him while he was a literal school basketball; sweaty.

• You realized that you should be a little more calm while Nikolai didn't give one shit. That motherfucker was all up in his face and crap like a Spirt Halloween animatronic..

• Anyways you two became friends because you liked card games!

Nikolai Gogol

• So you work at the Sky Casino and for some silly little reason Sigma left for "business" and left the manager position to you! (You don't know about the DOA yet lol)

• One of the workers while you were on break came and said that someone was cutting through the roof from the top of the building

• So you were like "mkay fuck you I'm on break give me a second." And by the time you got there he was already goofing around and there was a square cut out to the outside on the roof where he cam in.

"Uhm, sir, you could have used the door."

"Oh, but it's more fun."

"Sigh, fine. Just don't do it again, and your gonna have to pay for the roof fixing by the way."

"Just put it on Fedya's bill!"

"Who?-"

• You then learned when Sigma came back that he was banned the first time he came here a few years ago and does this about every week. The roof gets broken every time.

• So now he breaks in and tries to get to you while Sigma cries in a corner bc he got pranked by Nikoali.

Fyodor Dostevesky rat man

• jsjsjsjs okay so to sum it up you and rat man met bc you and Nikolai were siblings and Nikolai wanted to go back to Ukraine for you

• Nikolai one day sort of just disappeared from backstage at the curcis you both worked at together. You were like wtf where'd did his goofy ass go??

•You two were like Lyney and Lynette from Genshin Impact btw lol

• While you were backstage alone you were pulled into a more secluded area of the circus where you saw a man and your brother together

"Koyla?! W-where have you been?"

"Ehe, sister, meet Fyodor. He's going to help us be free!"

"What? But...."

"No! No! We're going with him."

"O-okay...?"

• Anyways Fyodor was interested by you and that's why he let Nikolai come back for you instead of just letting you die or something.

• From then, Fyodor burnt the circus down and brought you two back somewhere. Imma geuss Russia.

Tetchou Suehiro

• You were a hostage.

• Yes. Superman babygworl.

• Basically your like rich person's child (NOT FITZGERALD) And some rival people took you and your parents called Fukichi (the fossil) for help.

• He's sent Tetchou and Juono to go and bring you back safely

• By the time he and Juono came to the building you were being held hostage at you were stumbling out before fainting with a giggle.

"I geuss aunties lessons helped...." *BANG*

"Did you see that Juono?"

"I'm blind you dumbass."

• Anyways Tetchou carried you while Juono complained of how loud your heartbeat was.

• You woke up, looking around confusingly.

"U-uhm..."

• You three stopped at a coffee shop and you saw his strange soy-sauce-coffee.... yeah.... 💀

Juono Saigiku

• Juono felt like a full on third-wheeler, making snarky comments here and there about you and him.

• Fukichi invited you over for one of their fancy military annual parties and introduced you to Juono

• Though he couldn't see your face, he liked how calm your presence was and thought that your breathing and heartbeat wasn't as annoying as others.

• Until someone infiltrated the party.

• You were bait by the fossil. That's the whole reason.

• Anyways the group threatened everyone until sort of holding you with a knife to your neck.

• Still, Juono sensed how you were still calm which for some reason made him... worry...?

• Anyways you beat the shit out of the guy which was cool ig

• He liked your methods so he stayed in touch just in case you wanted to help him in torture time for criminals. :)

[loganwritesprobably]

I need My doctor

A lovely mutual of mine @bloglop requested a fic for the 200 followers event featuring her OC Mila and Law, and who was I to turn that down?

Content/Warnings: OC/Law, Fluff, established relationship, playful relationship, cute, Law being a doctor

Finally, Mila had arrived back at the Polar Tang after delivering various letters and parcels across the Grand Line.

She didn't necessarily love her job, but she did enjoy getting to travel the world and meeting new people. That was exactly how she'd met Law. Their relationship had started as strictly business, and their arrangement of allowing her to rest on the sub when she needed a break was a fair trade for her delivering their mail for free.

Things had changed slowly, over time, between the Captain and the delivery hare.

Law wasn't the most feeling man, but Mila was undoubtably attracted to him, and she couldn't help falling for him hard and fast. Things moved much slower for him. She was a semi-consistent presence, and whenever she arrived at the Tang she was always injured. He loyally patched her up, gently scolding her for being careless and not taking better care of herself.

"You take care of me then." She'd joked once, and that had been the turning point in their relationship.

Mila kicked off her shoes, padding down the hall toward the kitchen to grab herself a snack, then beelined for Law's office where she knew he would be. After all, she was injured as usual. With a quick few raps on the door, Mila headed inside and found her lover sitting at his desk working on something, just as she'd expected. "Welcome back." Law said, not looking up from whatever he was scribbling at. "Gonna need some bandages." Mila told him, hopping up onto his consultation bed automatically, a habit from so long of doing exactly that whenever she arrived. Law sighed, but there was a small smile on his face that he couldn't quite hide.

He grabbed his first aid box on his way to the examination table, and sighed when he caught sight of Mila's legs, cut up from running through the brush of a greener island. He pulled the roll of bandages from inside the box and set about wrapping them around Mila's legs gently. Once he was done, and the bandages were secure, he leaned in closer to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "How many times do I need to tell you to be more careful?" He asked, though it was clear he wasn't mad. "How else am I meant to get you this close to me?" Mila joked in return, reaching to lace her fingers with Law's. "Ask. You're too pretty to say no." It wasn't often that Law was so sappy, but Mila brought that out of him, though only in private. He was so soft for her, he'd never have thought he could care about someone like this.

"In that case," Mila said, "can we go get in bed and cuddle?" Mila asked, batting her lashes at her lover, and Law laughed softly, shaking his head for a moment. Then, without warning, he scooped Mila up into his arms making her squeal with delight, and he proceeded to carry her through the Polar Tang to his bedroom, his room that sometimes was their room.

[soren-the-scythe-lesbian]

Infested Pets and You: A Relatively Streamlined Guide to Genetically Engineered Warframe Pets

Have you ever wanted a Warframe pet that has more damage resistances than your frames get? Do you want resistances that look like this?:

Recently I've been getting into breeding companions in Warframe just to see what I could do with the system. I've decided to impart my knowledge in a more streamlined form here on my blog with a few disclaimers.

I am not the foremost expert on this subject. My sources are from my own experience and the following google doc: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1sJ_CSdSEa520B6kfokU4FN7WUuD356a6e6YbPPseeGs/edit?usp=sharing This post is supposed to be a streamlined how to and why that I thought would be fun to make.

I will also be detailing a glitch that is TIME SENSITIVE that is not mentioned in the google doc. By time sensitive I mean DE knows about it and is going to patch it out in the Koumei and the Five Fates update. It is currently, however, still in the game at time of writing. Once that update drops, you won't be able to do the glitch anymore, but any pets you made with it are unaffected visually.

Now let's get to the fun stuff~

Big ass post btw be warned

Part 1: how to acquire a Deimos Pet

There are two flavors of deimos pets with three variations each: the Predasite (infested kubrow) and the Vulpaphyla (infested kavat). They can both be obtained by doing conservation on the Cambion Drift and acquiring their modular pieces from Son in the Necralisk.

These modular pieces are the Antigens (which give mod polarities) and Mutagens (which give damage resistances to one element and one of I/P/S). There are four of each for each of the pets so that means a total of 16 modular pieces that Son sells blueprints of.

If you don't like ranking up Entrati standing or doing Cambion open world missions, I highly recommend you buckle up because you need rank 4 in order to get all of the modular pieces (and yes, you need all of them)

Once you have tranquilized a roaming animal of your choice on the Drift, it will be stored by Son for you to build much like any other modular craftable item. You need only apply the two built modular parts to receive your first creature.

It will still need to be guilded first before any breeding can be done, as imprints cannot be made of un-guilded creatures

Part 2: Precision Genetic Engineering

Much like kavats and kubrows, these creatures can be bred in the incubation segment in your orbiter. In order to do so, you need an incubator power core (the BP of which can be bought from the market), two genetic imprints of the same kind of pet (Predasites/Vulpas), and either a kubrow egg or 10 kavat genetic codes depending on which one you want to breed.

So once you have four Vulpas/Predasites, one with each combination of antigen and mutagen (not joking), you can start by making genetic code imprints of each of them. The templates can be made via a blueprint bought on the market. Once you have an imprint of two of your creatures, you can put them in the imprint section of the incubator to begin the breeding process.

After the breeding is done, you will notice that the creature will have both mutagens and antigens of both parents. These pass down 100% all the time. The creature subspecies, tail, and extra trait given by the antigens are all 50/50 on which part gets passed on (the subspecies matters for gameplay, but the rest are only cosmetic).

This creature with two of each modular part is called a 2x2.

Once you have two separate 2x2s, you should breed those into a 4x4.

Now let's do some math:

Each creature you make can create three templates, so after the 4x4 is created, you would have two imprints of your 1x1s available (so 8), two of your 2x2s (so 4) and three of your 4x4. The total amount of 4x4 imprints you would have by exhausting all of these imprints is a whopping 27!!

This means that as long as you keep one 4x4 imprint for yourself (or a few if you have some that have more desireable traits) you can keep selling the imprints for a massive plat profit (200p per imprint). This is because of the massively low supply of people making these imprints and that you would only need one 4x4 imprint and one other random creature imprint to keep making 4x4s.

Congrats! You now have a pet that takes half damage from basically everything. And this is where the pre-update part of the guide ends, because this next part is what DE does not want you to know.

Part 3: Frankenstein's Monster

It is possible to breed together kavats and kubrows by using a controller and hitting menu buttons simultaneously. Now normally, this glitch only really results in visual bugs, like this fittingly named helminth charger:

This creature was created from a Vasca kavat imprint and a helminth imprint. Yes, it looks hideos and terrifying, but sadly there is no tactical advantage to sticking your leggy out above your back.

The same can not be said for the deimos pets, as there is ABSOLUTELY a tactical advantage.

Step 1: acquire a 4x4 of both types of pets (or drag a friend along this ride so you can trade imprints)

Step 2: have one kubrow egg, 10 kavat codes, and one incubator core. Essentially, have the materials that allow you to do EITHER a kavat or a kubrow breeding.

Step 3: grab a controller. any controller will do, as I used a fighting game controller and it works wonders.

Step 4: use the controller to hover over the select imprint slot in either kavat or kubrow breeding. Press A and SIMULTANEOUSLY the bumper/trigger that will make the menu shift to the other pet breeding menu. You will be sent to the imprint select menu and then spat out to the other menu once selected. Start the process in that menu and you will notice that the previously selected imprint is in one of the slots. Simply place in the second imprint as normal and begin the process.

Now there are a few caveats (or kaveats in this case). Depending on which menu you finalize the breeding in, it will have slightly different results. It will be a 50/50 over whether it's a vulpa or a predasite, and regarding the tail and other such features, but if finalized in the kubrow menu, it will have a variable in SIZE. The kavat menu will always have it as the largest size, however. That means you can breed in the Kubrow menu and get reeeeeeeeeeeally tiny vulpaphylas.

Look at this lil' guy.

Now this can be applied to any crossbreedin of kavats and kubrows, although the deimos pets are mutually exclusive and can only be bred with other deimos pets. The FUN part is what this does with the modular parts.

EVERY. SINGLE. PART.

Gets passed down and inherited.

Now what are the gameplay benefits to this?

Simple: a CRAP TON of resistances and free polarities!

This is what the mod screen for my 8x8 Medjay Predasite looked like after I gave it the free polarity from guilding. It now has NINE TOTAL POLARITIES without using a single Forma. Two of each of the main three polarities and two precept polarities.

And for the resistances, well:

You can't really argue with these numbers. Unfortunately these numbers will be getting fixed with the next update. HOWEVER, the polarities given are still fair game, as well as any unique looking pets you happen to make. So get out there and make some monsters :3

[black-arcana]

WITHIN TEMPTATION's SHARON DEN ADEL Laments Rise In Dominance Of Right-Wing Political Parties In Europe

Last fall, Dutch symphonic metallers WITHIN TEMPTATION co-sponsored the Ukraine Aid Operations boat fundraiser for the Ukrainian Marines. They donated 6,000 euros for 30 patches, which they packaged with a limited-edition box of their latest album, "Bleed Out". Asked in a new interview with Hop N Music how this idea came about, WITHIN TEMPTATION singer Sharon Den Adel said (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET): "There were so many songs inspired by the Ukraine. And I really believe that in a lot of countries, right-wing parties have become more dominant in Europe, which I think is not a good thing because most of them are not pro Ukraine; I mean, they're more pro-Russia, so they say, 'Okay, we're not going to support Ukraine.' And I really believe if Russia does win this war from the Ukrainians, then there will be another country oppressed by Russia and he [Putin] won't stop there. And I believe it will destabilize Europe because I think we're more polarized about the subjects in Europe that I was hoping that would unite us more, but it's tearing us a bit more apart, which I think is a sad thing because I do think we need each other, especially when you talk about military defense from Europe, because America is getting more distant from us. We need to depend on ourselves, to my opinion also, and the Ukraine, they have a small army compared to Russia.'

She continued: "So, these patches, they're being sold for 200 euros per patch. So every patch is 200 euros. And we bought 30 of them to put in different boxes, and through that money, they can buy things like night binoculars, but also helmets, small kind of things that they can't get from the army, from the government in the Ukraine, because there's so much they need. They just get big things, like the tanks and the boats they get from the government, but the smaller things, they need very quick access and it takes too long for them to get them or not even get them in time to stay safe. And so we felt through this corporation, the, Ukrainian Aid Ops, it's called, and they get mostly money from people, like donations, but you can buy patches, but also artwork from things they find on the battlefield and they make artworks of it, like vases from shells, military shells. And so they make something beautiful out of something that's really ugly, of course. And we really wanna support them because, like I said, this is a sovereign country. Nobody's allowed to attack a sovereign country. And this is within Europe, and it's getting close towards us. And I really believe that we — there's two reasons. First of all, it's a sovereign country. Don't touch a sovereign country. Second of all, because it will threaten also Europe. And I think we're not prepared for Russia. If they wanna take over more countries, yeah, it's gonna be gonna be way worse than it already is. So I really believe we should keep on supporting the Ukraine for that, and that's why we support them through this organization."

Three months ago, Den Adel was asked by Metal Musikast why she and her bandmates feel the need to voice their political views in some of their recently released songs, including "Wireless" and the title track of their new album "Bleed Out", which have highlighted such current topics as the war in Ukraine and the suspicious death of Mahsa Amini, an Iranian woman "detained" for not wearing a hijab. She said: "Well, I think it's very difficult to separate your music from who you are as a person, of course. And seeing this happening in Europe, an invasion by Russia into Ukraine, and Kyiv is only two hours flight from [my home], and so it feels really in my backyard that this war is happening. And seeing the propaganda from Russia, setting up the European countries towards each other instead of that we are… We are trying to stick together, but the propaganda does get to certain countries, like Slovenia and Hungary and some others. And also in our own country [the Netherlands], this year we voted, apparently as a country, for far right, which I don't understand. And that party also, yeah, has a lot of same ideas as some other countries, which are pro-Russia. Not to say that our country is pro-Russia at all, but I think that was a vote against, that people weren't satisfied with the government that we have and thought it could be like a protest vote. But, to me, that's pretty stupid. In many countries now, people start to vote for far-right parties because they're fed up with the government, how it was, because, well, things didn't go perfect, of course, but on the other hand, to start voting for far right is another thing. But we are, as a country, very supportive of Ukraine, but it's more like the propaganda does reach certain people also in our country. And that worries me, because I think we should stand shoulder to shoulder to help Ukraine."

Den Adel also talked about WITHIN TEMPTATION's music video for the band's "A Fool's Parade" single, featuring Ukrainian producer and vocalist Alex Yarmak. Recorded amidst the streets of Kyiv with renowned Ukrainian video director Indy Hait, the clip captures Sharon at important Ukrainian landmarks. Asked what it was like to make a music video in the capital city of a country at war, Den Adel said: "Well, I was never scared to go there, because I was in good hands, to my opinion. We were helped to do this video and to organize everything, what we wanted to do in Kyiv, by the organization called Music Saves Ukraine. And they told us about the app that you had need to have. For instance, if you go into Kiev, which we did by night train from Poland, because there's no commercial flights from Amsterdam to Kyiv anymore. So we had to go by night train from Poland to Kyiv. And they told us to download an air-alerts app because everyone in Ukraine has that, and you can select a region that you are in and any incoming dangerous drones or airplanes, like MiGs, who are carrying a supersonic bomb or anything, they will put that in the app and you know what the danger is and how much time you have to go to a shelter. And there's shelters everywhere, even in the hotel that I was. And we once had to go underneath the metro station, because there was a MiG on their way. And sometimes it has a bomb, sometimes it doesn't. It's sometimes just looking and scouting where they can do something with the next airplane. And this time it wasn't wearing any supersonic bomb, which was good for us because it can wipe out a complete area in a matter of seconds."

She continued: "It's strange to be there, because normal life continues in Kyiv for 90 percent, to my opinion, when I was there, because when I left the bombing was actually intensified by Russia on Kyiv. But they have a good air defense system, which most rockets and bombs don't hit Kyiv itself, but the debris, of course, does, and the pieces of that, of the thing that they are trying to attack them with, it's coming still down on buildings and buildings do get hits and also bystanders. But if you know in time that they're coming, then you can go to a shelter. Most of the time it goes okay. So I wasn't scared because I knew this knowledge upfront. And, yeah, it is when the air alert goes off and when you see military people walking in streets, it's a different picture than the rest of Europe, of course."

Last November, the far-right Freedom Party (PVV) won the largest number of seats in the Dutch national elections. Many people believe the shift was triggered by economic and cultural anxieties that have whipped up fears about immigrants.

According to a press release from WITHIN TEMPTATION's publicist, "A Fool's Parade" "showcases the band's commitment to raising awareness of Ukraine's ongoing battle against Russia's invasion. The song itself serves as a condemnation of Russia's deceitful actions and sheds light on the harsh realities faced by Ukraine. WITHIN TEMPTATION remains steadfast in their support for Ukraine, with involvement in initiatives such as the Ukraine Aid OPS foundation, advocating for more much-needed solidarity." All royalties from the new single will be donated to Music Saves UA for the duration of the Russia-Ukraine war.

In March 2022, WITHIN TEMPTATION was one of the artists who took part in a telethon concert in support of Ukraine. "Save Ukraine - #StopWar" united more than 20 countries and bring together more than 50 participants. The marathon was broadcast from Warsaw on the Polish TV channel TVP. In addition, broadcasters from many countries around the world rebroadcasted the marathon on their local channels.

The "Bleed Out" album was released last October.

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Gkika Gets Got

Fandom: Girl Genius Summary:

"A girl likes to pay her debts, ya?" "So, what did you do for the Jӓger lady?" "Nothing much. She's makin' more of it than she should."

Gkika gets badly wounded on a raid. To her surprise, she is rescued by a mysterious man who seems neither human nor Jӓger; a man who is determined that she live to fight. Gkika would prefer to crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment.

AO3 Link

Damn.

Damn.

Don’t get confident. Her father had drilled that into her head over and over and over. Don’t. Get. Confident. Always assume your enemy is better than you, and fight accordingly.

But nooo, Gkika was the bigshot raider now, Gkika rode with the Jӓgers, Gkika had made it through two raids without a scratch, Gkika was invincible.

Und now, hyu got three whole arrows in hyu, cauz hyu so good at dis.

The one in her side had hit her ribs. She could have pushed through that pain, but the two in her thigh… There was a reason she was crawling her way through the stagnant water at the bottom of the ditch—which would mean infection even if she could get out of here.

There were no tryouts for riding with the Jӓgers, no tests, no athletic requirements. You either lived long enough and fought well enough to be offered the draught, or you didn’t. If she died here, would they even find her body? Would they all say she’d died because she wasn’t good enough, or would they think she panicked and ran? Like a coward.

If she could just get out of the damn ditch.

As if in immediate response to the thought, something grabbed her by the straps of her leather cuirass and hauled her up. Gkika thrashed wildly, her jaw clenched tight—absolutely no screaming, not for anyone’s amusement. The arrow in her side caught on the dirt wall of the ditch, and the pain—

Gkika woke slowly. Her wounds still throbbed a dull, burning ache. She felt pressure on her stomach and something hooked onto her belt. But she wasn’t dead or caged or being torn to pieces by angry villagers, and that was a good start.

Her face was pressed against something soft. She cracked open her eyes and saw a wall of rough green fabric. Where was she?

“Ivan vill be okay if ve tie him to de horse,” said a voice. “Alrik is still breathink but he von’t vake up. His head iz all fonny lookink.”

“Make a sling and take him home. At this point, the Heterodyne is the only one who can put him to rights, if anyone can.”

The voice wasn’t familiar, but the way it rumbled right through her made Gkika realize she was slung over a shoulder like a sack of flour, held in place by a hand on her belt. Gkika shut her eyes again, and felt humiliation rise in her face like a sunrise.

“Found a couple of de town boys, too, dead.”

Oh no. She knew that voice.

“Did you take care of it?

“Ya, ve found some canvas und wrapped dem up. Got deir hats, too.”

That was Goomblast, the biggest mouth in the world literally and figuritively! Who everyone knew had been personally told by Zog that he’d be made a general as soon as he learned how to keep a secret for two seconds in a row! By sundown, every person in camp would know about this—Mechanicsburg would know about this—the Polar Lords would know. Subterranean mole people who had never seen the sun would know that Gkika had run headfirst into a hail of arrows like the idiot she was.   

“Good. Go back to camp, get them buried, get Alrik to the Heterodyne. Don’t wait up—I need to patch this one up, first.”

“Heh. No kiddink.”

Gkika barely heard the sound of the Jӓgers leaving over the flood of her own mortification.

After a few moments, the voice said

“They’re gone now. You can stop pretending.”

Gkika let out a long, miserable groan.

“Just leaf me to die,” she pleaded.

“No, I don’t think I’m going to do that.”

Her “rescuer” did not put Gkika down, and Gkika couldn’t walk anyway so knew there was no point in getting mad about it. So while he carried her through the forest—with no sign of obvious effort—she hung there and let herself wallow in self pity.

An eternity later, he said, “I’m going to put you down now.”

“Good. Leaf me here.”

His response was to sigh and—with infuriating care—lay her down at the mouth of a cave. Gkika refused to look at him.

“I’m going to check if it’s clear. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Oh, hyu so funny.”

He disappeared inside. After a moment, there was a cacophany of growling and hissing, and Gkika considered using that as cover to go find a rock to crawl under. But no, she wouldn’t get very far, and it would be all the more humiliating to have him drag her back.

The man emerged, cleaning blood off of his sword. Gkika glanced at him to see that his face was familiar enough that she knew she’d seen it around camp, but not so familiar she had a name or background to attach to it.

Without a word, he sheathed his sword and scooped her up again.

This time she examined him more closely. He didn’t look that much older than she was, or less human. The strength said Jӓger, the lack of fangs said new Jӓger, but the way he’d given orders spoke of an authority that no freshmade Jӓger would be granted.

He gently lay Gkika down on a bedroll already spread out, and began to putter around the gave, seemingly oblivious to Gkika’s wary watchfulness as he moved spider-wolf corpses out of the way and lit a fire.

Then he rolled up his sleeves, and Gkika saw a spiderweb of scars across his skin, more than any human could survive in the space of a single military career.

“Vut is hyu?” she demanded.

“Name’s Agnar,” he said. “Though I might change it soon. It’s getting a little out-dated.”

Gkikg was about to point out that that was not what she’d asked, when Agnar began to set out bandages, ointments, and unpleasantly sharp looking little tools.

“I told you I wasn’t leaving you to die,” Agnar said, though Gkika hadn’t spoken. 

He helped Gkika to lie back, and propped up her side so he could get at the arrow. Then he handed her a thick piece of wood, which Gkika set between her teeth. Fancy Heterodyne medical mumbo jumbo or no, this was going to hurt.

Gkika threw her arm over her eyes. 

“Hy vvff hy vff fff.”

Agnar removed the stick.

“Hy vish Hy vuz dead,” Gkika said.

Agnar replaced the stick.

“You’re going to wish it even more in a second.”

He was very right.

Gkika nearly cracked the stick in half, and did not judge herself for the tears of pain that streamed down her face as she fought to keep still. She passed out twice: once when he’d pulled the first of the arrows from her leg, the second time when it was over, out of sheer relief.  

When she woke, she was bandaged, the pain was a thobbing ache, and Agnar was cleaning his hands with something sharp and metallic smelling. For a few minutes, she watched him pack away the supplies in silence.

“Vy?” she asked at last.

“Hmm?” he said, not looking up as he began to slice a hunk of spider-wolf meat off the bone.

“Vy stay und risk hyuself to help me?”

“Ain’t much of a risk.” 

“If de pipple from dot town find us, dey vill kill uz both.”

“If they find us, they will certainly try,” Agnar agreed. He speared the meat on a spit and set it over the fire.

“Hy izn’t even a Jäger! Hy is just vun of de idiots dot rides vit dem. Vy vaste hyu time?”

“Not a waste.”

“Hyu iz avoiding de qvestion.”

“Heh. Spose I am.”

Gkika pushed herself up on her elbows and glared at him. He at last looked up at her and tucked a smile away in the corner of his mouth; held up his hands in surrender.

“You think you’re the first person to ride with the Jӓgers to almost get themselves killed doing somethin’ stupid? Most people who go riding with the Jӓgers die doing somethin’ stupid.” He paused, thoughtfully. “Most Jӓgers, too, come to that.”

“So?”

Agnar’s expression grew more serious.

“You didn’t get killed doing somethin’ stupid. You survived doing somethin’ stupid. Hit with three arrows, fell into a ditch, stuck in there for nearly five hours, and you were still movin’ around when I found you. I could have put you on a horse, same as Ivan, but that’d run the risk of more damage. As it is, if you’re careful about keeping the wounds clean and you go see a doctor when we get home, you’ll be fighting fit in time for the next raid.

“I said it wasn’t a waste, and I meant it. A person tough enough to survive taking three arrows makes for a good fighter. But a person who can keep going after that, who can push through the pain, who can flat out refuse to die? That is the kind of person who survives the Jägerdraught.”

Gkika stared at him. Agnar did not respond, but waited for her reaction.

“Hy neffer said Hy vanted to be a Jäger.”

“But you do.”

Gkika looked away.

“There’s two types of people who ride with the Jägers: the ones who do it for fun, and the ones who don’t. The Heterodyne doesn’t look for Jägers in the ones who are here for the fun, and the only way he knows which is which is if someone tells him.”

“Hy iz not ready yet,” Gkika muttered. “Hy’z not good enough.”

“It ain’t about when you think you’re good enough. It’s about when the Heterodyne thinks you’re good enough. Let me tell you: it takes a hell of a lot less time to learn to be a good fighter than it does to learn to ignore the part of you that worries you’re not good enough.”

“Hy vill be!” Gkika growled.

“Sure. But you’ll be ready before you feel ready. S’how it goes for pretty much everybody. It’s natural,” he assured her, pulling a pipe out of his pocket. “When we get back to camp, go to one of the generals and tell them you want to be considered.”

She snorted.

“Zog vould neffer allow it. He hates me.”

“You annoy him,” Agnar corrected. “Which, to be fair, you do on purpose.”

Gkika scowled.

“Iz not my fault he can’t take a joke,” she muttered.

“Fortunately for you, Zog does not get to decide who becomes a Jäger. The Heterodyne does. And if Zog puts in a bad word for you with the Heterodyne—not that I think he will, but if he does—I’ll put in a good one.”

Gkika snorted.

“Und de Heterodyne vill listen to you,” she said, disdainfully.

Agnar reached into the fire with his bare hands and drew out a red-hot coal. He lit the pipe, tossed the coal into the fire, dusted off his steaming fingers, and leaned back against the cave wall. 

“Yup.”

It struck Gkika all at once, and she opened her mouth. Then she shut it.

“If Hy say vut Hy tink hyu is,” she said, carefully, “und Hy iz right, iz dot a ‘hyu heff to kill me’ type ting?”

There was a gleam in Agnar’s eyes, but it seemed like a good one.

“Tough and smart. That’s good.”

Gkika decided to take that as a yes.

She ate the spiderwolf meat, which was gamey and strange, but filling, and fell asleep. When she woke, night had fallen and the fire was banked to coals. Agnar was staring into the dull red glow and smoking his pipe, the two lights casting strange shadows on his face. He looked no older than before, but the proportions of his face were…off, somehow.

“Vut if dey make fun ov me?” she asked.

“For what? Taking an arrow to the ribs and living to tell about it?”

“For needink to be rescued.”

“Oh, they’ll give you grief for it, no ifs about it. If you laugh with them, or make the jokes yourself, it’ll die down faster. Fightin’ ‘em on it just encourages them. But laughing at you ain’t the same as losing respect for you, which is what you’re actually worried about.”

Gkika scowled.

“Und hyu know me so vell, do hyu?”

“I’ve known people like you.”

“Haff dis conversation a lot, den?”

“Only when I think it’ll work,” he said. “And only when I think it’s worth it.”  

Agnar put out his pipe and lay down beside the fire, tipping his hat over his eyes.

“Rest up. We leave at dawn.”

“Vill Hy be able to valk by den?”

“A little bit.”

“You iz going to carry me again, izn’t hyu.”

“Only to my horse. You’ll ride, I’ll walk.”

“Sidesaddle,” Gkika said, suddenly. “Like a fancy lady.”  

Agnar didn’t tip his cap up, but she saw him smile. They fell silent, the night hush falling in around them.

“Tenk hyu,” Gkika said, suddenly. “For puttink me back togedder. Und de odder ting. Hy owe hyu—”

Agnar waved a lazy hand.

“Relax, kid. It was a little patch up and a pep talk. Nothin’ to hold over yourself.”

Gkika decided to say nothing, for now, but in her heart knew she owed this man more than she could ever repay in a single lifetime.

But Hy vill have plenty of lifetimes, she thought, determination settling in her bones. Because Hy vill be a Jӓger.

[popentertainment-moviereviews]

THE OUTRUN (2024)

Starring Saoirse Ronan, Paapa Essiedu, Nabil Elouahabi, Izuka Hoyle, Lauren Lyle, Saskia Reeves, Stephen Dillane, Eilidh Fisher, Naomi Wirthner, Danyal Ismail, Posy Sterling, Patch Bell, Nabil Elouahabi, Jack Rooke, Seamus Dillane, Conrad Williamson, Tony Hamilton and Ammar Younis.

Screenplay by Nora Fingscheidt & Amy Liptrot.

Directed by Nora Fingscheidt.

Distributed by Sony Classic Pictures. 118 minutes. Rated R.

Substance abuse, alcoholism and addiction are very difficult to deal with, even from the relatively safe distance of a theater seat.

They can be dangerous roles to play for an actor, but they are also juicy, dramatic characters full of flaws and hitting rock bottom.

Once upon a time in film, these examinations of recovering addicts were staples of serious, Award-courting movies – things like The Lost Weekend, The Days of Wine and Roses, Leaving Las Vegas and Clean and Sober.

In recent years, this kind of film (and role) has become a bit scarcer, partially because of the discomfort of the audiences, partially because of the extreme toll the characters can take on the actors.

Therefore, all credit is due to Saoirse Ronan – who has always been a fairly fearless actress – for allowing herself to take the bumpy emotional ride of the small arthouse film The Outrun, which was adapted from an acclaimed memoir by Amy Liptrot.

Ronan plays Rona, a thirty-ish recovering alcoholic who had spent a decade partying in London and has now moved back to the area in which she grew up – the Orkney Islands off of Scotland – in an attempt to get her life back on track. (The somewhat inscrutable sounding title The Outrun actually refers to a type of outlying coastal farmland on Orkney that's not suitable for cultivation, which is where Rona ends up taking residence and reinventing herself.)

The Outrun flips back and forth in time in Rona’s life – from her troubled childhood with a bi-polar father and religious mother, to her wild party days in London, to her current desperate attempts to keep herself sober.

Needless to say, there are some very depressing parts of The Outrun. However, as Rona rediscovers her home in the stunningly beautiful, if slightly remote and rundown island, the nature and the landscape soothes the audience as well as the heroine, which is a nice cinematic trick.

By simplifying her life, her needs and her world, we can see Rona potentially getting it all together, and it is a rather cathartic feeling.

The Outrun is not the type of movie that will ever get a huge following – particularly not in this period of cinematic history – and that is kind of a shame. It is definitely a film worth seeing.

I just hope that it makes enough of a splash that Saoirse Ronan is remembered during Awards season, because this fearless tightrope performance is definitely worthy of at the very least some serious nominations.

Jay S. Jacobs

Copyright ©2024 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: October 4, 2024.

[dreamersbcll]

What would it take to get a part 2 / continuation of SOS? Like, the aftermath of it all. I will sell my soul for it. Please, I beg of you.

since you asked so nicely, here you go. part one here.

“SOS”

—————————————————————————-

Getting Tara comfortable was the hardest part.

Once they were out of Woodsboro, Sam pulled the car over, throwing herself out of the front seat and to the back where Tara lay. Reaching into her trunk, she pulled out her extensive first aid kit (she was homeless briefly) and surveyed her baby sister.

Tara had blood smeared down her face and across her cheek, her nose finally cauterizing itself. Her eyes were screwed up in pain, the brushing around her neck more polarizing in the dim car light. Every part of Sam wanted to scream and sob, but she couldn’t afford to break down, especially when Tara was in this condition.

“Okay, uh, we should go to the hospital? I think Santa Clara Medical is half an hour away. Or we could try urgent care. It is nearly ten o'clock, though, I don’t think that would work. Maybe we could try-”

“Sam, I’m fine,” Tara said, cutting her off effectively.

Tara tried to sit up but could only prop herself up on her elbows due to her pain. It killed Sam to hear how muffled her baby sister’s voice was from the blood, her throat swollen with bruising. Sam just wanted to hold her tight and apologize. She needed to apologize. Yet again, her actions had led to a bleeding person, and this one was her little girl.

It was almost too much.

Swallowing hard, Sam straightened up, trying to sound authoritative. “No, you’re not. Not even close. Now sit down and let me help you,” she said, pushing Tara back down onto her back.

Rolling her eyes, Tara laid back against the car door. “It isn’t even the worst it’s been. I just wasn’t ready this time. I was stupid and not careful. That’s all.”

Pausing from pulling out bandages and gauze, she looked back at Tara's bloody face, her body cold. She knew Christina had beat Tara before, but Sam usually stepped in once it got bad. But hearing that she was a failure yet again nearly tore her in two.

“Worst it’s been?”

“Yeah. There were other times. One time, DCFS was called. You know, Mom. She just gets wasted with no regard for any other human,” Tara said, smiling ashamedly.

Seeing her big sister’s shocked face, Tara groaned. “Don’t. Don’t say whatever you’re planning to say. It won’t make up for anything.”

Looking away, Tara's voice dropped above a whisper, her eyes glassy. “Besides, I don’t think it was malicious. I look like you sometimes. She misses you, you know. Even if she won’t say it,” she said, her words wobbling a bit.

Pursing her lips, Sam tried to snap out of her head. Tara didn’t need her to break down and be a mess, and she needed her strong, big sister.

And that’s what she would give her.

“Why would she miss me? I gave her hell. Ever since that night… I just was, I don’t know—gone. I knew damn well who she was, and I still left. I’m sorry,” she mumbled, wiping blood streaks off Tara's chin.

Her little sister scrunched her nose in displeasure yet still leaned into Sam’s touch. “No. No, you don’t need to do that. It’s okay. I don’t need this from you,”.

Turning around, Sam tried to hide her wounded expression. She knows deep down that Tara had every right to be angry and upset and didn’t need to accept any of her apologies. Sam was the one who left and tore apart their family, subjecting Tara to the wrath of Christina.

Now wasn’t the time to apologize. Sam just had to listen.

“Need what? I’m just responding to you. It’s the least I could do,” she briskly answered, carefully tilting Tara’s chin up so she could staunch the bloody nose.

Tara rolled her eyes but still allowed Sam to touch and care for her. The two sat in silence for a moment, Sam patching her up and Tara just mulling over her thoughts. Each time Tara hissed in pain, Sam’s hands would shake in fear, but her little sister would still nod yes to let her touch her.

After Sam finally stopped the bleeding and wiped the blood off Tara’s face, did her baby sister spoke again.

“You know, I really needed you, Sam. I needed you, and when I looked for you, you weren’t there. I don’t know if I can accept your apologies right now. I’m still reeling from how you left me, you know,” she mumbled, playing with her bruised hands.

Every part of Sam’s body told her to run, flee, get away, but Sam couldn’t move. She knew that hearing the truth would hurt, but fuck, this stung.

Taking a deep breath out, Sam replied shakily. “Okay. That’s fair. I won’t push you. But now I am truly sorry. It doesn’t compensate for the past, but I’m here now.”

“Are you staying?” Tara asked without missing a beat.

If Sam weren’t so in tune with her surroundings, she would’ve missed the hope that flooded Tara’s voice and the flash of light that flickered in her eyes.

Everything led up to this. Every fight, every bedtime story, and every high all led to this moment. Sam’s redemption. The moments she lost all came back to her, piece by piece.

If she were wise, she would take it all and run.

And so she did.

“Yeah. I’m staying.”

Tara suppressed a grin, her glassy eyes shining in the car light. Despite the bruising evident on her body and the way she winced in pain, Tara held her arms out, waiting for Sam to hold her.

And so she did.

She held onto her little girl, pulling her in, kissing the side of her head. She stroked Tara’s tangled hair and whispered sentiments of love into her ear. Tara shook, but it was in tears and not in terror. Sam still held onto her baby sister, even as she fell apart in her arms.

Eventually, Tara pulled back, wiping her eyes. “Where do we go now? What’s next?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Sam shrugged, wiping away her tears. “I honestly don’t know. But I’m willing to try if you are?” she asked, praying that Tara would accept her offer.

And so she did.

“Yeah, I’m willing to try.”