#but foraging... there is Nothing to keep it interesting

[risingsunresistance]

now that all i have left to level up is foraging and fishing (dont talk to me about the farming contests) i keep thinking about the player feedback in the last design thread

[notspiders]

Oh, Honey! (Bumblebee! Reader x Monster! 141)

General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Reader is female and is described as rather small and chubby. Reader is clumsy. Reader has a very large family. Characters may act out of character. Poor grammar is likely. Cussing. Part 1??? Note: Monster! 141 belongs to @bluegiragi

~~~~

Price watches you through the window.

Truthfully, he isn't sure how he and his team ended up here. One day they were being chased by a bloody team of zombies/cannon fodder, the next- he's laying on this extremely cozy bed (although it is a bit small) with his wounds nicely patched. Soap has gone hunting with the other women. Ghost is satisfied that they're all safe in this... rather massive cottage and has been snoring away in the next room for the past hour. Gaz has told him that he's going to just fly around and keep an eye out- just in case if the enemies somehow find themselves through the dense woods and into this clearing.

They really were lucky, Price thinks. According to you, the woods were a force themselves. Navigating through it, especially at night, is practically impossible. Compasses don't work. There's no signal and, of course, any type of aircraft just fail here. The woods are miles long and unless you packed enough supplies- it's suicide to dive back in and try to find your way out. It's just that sometimes the woods can help you, and sometimes the woods just gives you Mother Nature's middle finger and kills you. So there's that.

Naturally, the team was suspicious.

1) The explanation made no sense. 2) They were just outnumbered by a ton of enemies and to stumble upon this welcoming lot is... well, it's too good to be true, yeah? 3) You and your family are just way too happy. 3.1) There are no guys in your family. Your mother stated that men generally just wandered in, the family would treat them, and then they go away by themselves after a few nights. 3.2) Honestly, all of you look the same. Maybe there's like, a difference in hairstyles, body types, and obvious age gaps between the women here and there, but Jesus… Gaz has already made the mistake of confusing you, your cousins, your many sisters, and other random girls multiple times last night. 3.3) Scratch out the 'massive cottage' you guys claimed it to be. It's a mansion. Your 'family' is very large. There are many aunts, other women, cousins, other girls that were adopt into the family- Just no men. All living under the same roof and might as well be an army itself with how efficient you all did your tasks.

That said, it's very rude to point guns at innocent, clueless civilians. You, an adorably chubby, little bumblebee-hybrid (identifiable by the two rather pathetic buzzing wings behind your back), opened the door to them last night and stared blankly at their guns before cheerily ushering them in without freaking your head out. Next thing they knew, they got some quality homecooked meals cooked and served before them, plenty of drink (the honey mead everyone shared is excellent), proper treatment with their wounds (with... herbs), and warm beds. Ghost had stayed up the whole night and snooped around (just in case) but reported nothing interesting except for a few old hunting rifles and some overdue library books. Yes, each girl did carry a tiny foraging knife, but he's pretty certain they could still punt them like footballs ten at a time.

Morning comes- the team properly introduce themselves without being too specific of their occupation. There was a great deal of oohing and aahing as Price unfolded his one wing. His smoke did cause one girl to faint and her mother quickly asked for Price to... stop. He did his best and has, for now, stopped smoking his cigar. Everyone just steered clear from Ghost. Many children were petting Soap's head and playing with his fluffy tail, and others were stroking Gaz's wings.

Despite all the attention, Price's gaze is always on you. Maybe it was because of the fact that he's seen you first. You were just the cutest out of all of them. He wanted to whisk you away just to squish every soft part of your body and have you cuddled up beside him in his nest back home.

He's sorely disappointed to be told that he needs to return to bed so that his wounds can heal faster. No matter. The window gives him a very nice view of the clearing outside. Some girls are tending to the farm. Others are beekeeping. Plenty have gone to the outskirts of the forest to forage or hunt. Soap has offered to go out with the girls and they gladly accepted his help. (Tomorrow, he'll get off of this bed and join everyone too.)

Right now, you're picking the berries in your garden. It's amusing to watch you. Sometimes you bend over to pluck a few pretty flowers too- he's gotten a very nice view of your plump arse here and there. He's watched you buzz your small wings to just barely get a foot in the air and pluck an apple off the tree. Oh, how he wished to simply go out to lift you up himself... Your weight would be nothing to him.

From his observations, he's smartly deduced: Your body is round. Your little wings aren't designed for distance.

He loves the way you'd burrow your nose into any flower. Sometimes you remind him of Johnny's eagerness by the way you'd get a bit too enthusiastic and faceplant into the bed of flowers to take in the scent.

Price watches you get up, bump into your cousin (or is it sister? Or is this another girl? He couldn't be arsed), and the two of you collectively squeaked and apologized at the same time. Adorable. Fascinating. Beautiful. He hasn't felt this way ever since the time he xaight the glimpse of the shiny Excalibur in that stupid rock.

The lunch horn has been blown. He's been told that today's meal would be freshly baked bread and creamy chicken with wild rice soup. There’ll be tea and coffee for the drinks.

Price wishes his lunch would just be you.

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | three.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.8k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, general bioengineering project descriptions/terms, very vague mention of mice research work, mentions of a lil cut (nothing graphic), a lil more oc x san!!, oc x san being subtle with their actions - they're def feeling each other/checking each other out tho lol, suave sexy san!!, jongho is onto him oop 🤨, it builds up from here i prawwwmise!

When Sunwoo said he needed help, he truly meant it. A few weeks into the new quarter, you find yourself hustling in the lab in between your class schedule. You do enjoy it though, and you find that you still have time to carve out for your friends and nights out. But, you do feel your workload slowly increasing just because Sunwoo is trying to make significant progress with his project— a project that you hope to build off if you were to fully join Professor Choi's lab. A project that would hopefully get your name on another published paper, too. And, you weren't gonna lie, you wanted to do your best and work extra hard because you needed Professor Choi to see that you fit perfectly in his lab. You needed to show him that this wasn't any ordinary research work to you and that you weren't just winging your time here, especially after he gave you that friendly but stern pep talk during your kick-off meeting with him, Belle and Sunwoo.

—FLASHBACK

"Hey." Professor Choi says while sitting in his chair. The three of you walk in, with Sunwoo plopping himself down on his couch, and you and Belle sitting at the two seats in front of his desk. "How's everyone doing?" He asks while typing away, huge Mac screen taking up the corner of his desk with his laptop connected on a laptop stand.

"Good!" You all say in your own ways.

"How about you, Professor Choi?" Sunwoo leans back onto the couch.

"Mm." He hums. "Good as can be, I guess. Can't complain." He chuckles, now fully shifting his attention to you three. "So! How'd the talk go?"

"Well, I think Y/N would work well with my project. There's so many avenues she could piggyback off of if she joins the lab afterwards that'll help contribute to a lot of the dynamic foraging, brain-wide neural dynamics work we've been doing." You watch as Professor Choi nods in agreement, now looking at you and Belle.

"She could also help with the lab-wide project I've been heading and some other 2-photon and KCR work." 

"Sounds good with me. What about you, Y/N?" He leans onto his desk, eyes glued on you while his hands are clasped together. You lick your lips and nod, nervous that all the attention is on you especially from Professor Choi. You feel like he's burning holes into you, and you can't help but feel incredibly intimidated. 

"Yeah, that sounds awesome. I'm on board with Sunwoo and Belle's plans. I'm excited to dive in." He smiles at you.

"Cool. I think we'll get some great work done during your rotation." He turns to Sunwoo. "Sunwoo, can I trust you to take care of Y/N's badge access and getting her set up with everything she needs?"

"For sure!"

"Thanks." Professor Choi stands. "And just cause I have to lay this out there, there are some expectations I hold for the people in my lab— regardless if you're a rotation student, postdoc, undergrad, staff. It doesn't matter. I expect the highest performance out of everybody, and I want my people to succeed no matter how long it takes. I expect my people to do nothing but the best and I need that to show in everything you do. Presentations. Data. Papers. Everything. I don't want anyone to settle for less than that, and you have my support every step of the way."

"Of course, noted."

"We have lab meetings every Monday at 9am up on the third floor of the south wing. I'll get you on the schedule so you can do your rotation update towards the end of the quarter."

"Journal club!" Sunwoo says, making Professor Choi laugh. "One of us!"

"Yeah, we'll get you to do a journal club presentation too." He tucks his hands in his pockets.

"Professor Choi gets us free hot breakfast for lab meetings." Belle puts her hand on your arm as you all stand and start to get ready to leave. "It's so good." You giggle.

"So, all good? We're all onboard?" You three turn to Professor Choi and nod. "Nice. Welcome to the lab, Y/N." He flashes you a smile that only you catch, a look that only you see. Like it was meant to be that way.

Your time in Professor Choi's lab will be an interesting one.

—END

"Hey." You pull out a seat and plop onto the chair, sipping on the drink you just ordered.

"Hey pretty!" Eunchae giggles, while Felix, Jiung and Jurin wave.

"Where have you been?" Felix asks, poking at your bicep.

"Shuffling between class and lab." You let out a breath, bottom lip poking out into a pout.

"She's rotating in Professor Choi's lab." Jiung looks at Jurin.

"San?" You nod. "Damn, goodluck!" Jurin chimes in and you shake your head. "He's a hottie."

"Here we go." Felix snorts.

"I mean, are we wrong?" She looks at him and playfully nudges his side, causing him to groan in response. 

"I never said you were wrong!" Eunchae giggles at his pained response. "That's just the hot topic on campus. Him and his friends."

"So hot. They deserve to be the talk on campus." Eunchae rests her chin on the palm of her hand. "How has it been in his lab?"

"It's been good! Just really fucking busy. Sunwoo is like.. at the peak of his project. He'll probably try to submit his paper within the year or something if all goes well."

"Fun times." Jiung looks at you while sipping on his smoothie. "You going back to lab after?"

"Yup!"

"I gotta head back, too." Felix says. 

"Same. I gotta run my gels." Eunchae adds.

"What about you?"

"Not today." Jiung responds. "I have a paper I need to start already for one of my classes. I've just been trying to troubleshoot some of the lasers in the lab for the other Professor Choi so I'm not entirely busy yet." You nod, checking your apple watch to peep the time. "Are you guys gonna be able to catch dinner later?"

"I should be."

"Yeah, same."

"Mm. I dunno." You tilt your head. "You can probably go without me and I'll catch up if I can."

"Sheesh, really putting you to work already."

"Yup." You sigh, finishing up your drink and your snack box full of cheese, grapes and crackers. "Anyway, I gotta get going. I told Sunwoo I'd try and fix our behavior rig today so we can start utilizing it soon."

"Text us if you'll be able to join dinner and we'll wait!" Jurin yells before you wave them off and start making your way back to the Harvey Center to finish up your tasks in lab. Part of you really wanted to stay with your friends and hang out for the rest of the afternoon, but you had promised Sunwoo you'd take the time to fix the behavior rig he had been working on for the past month. He just hasn't had the bandwidth to focus on it lately, so having you is tremendous help for him. 

When you get to the lab, there's still quite a few people lingering around in the office area in the basement, surprisingly. You pop over to their desks for small talk, getting to know the people in the lab and the projects they're working on. Most are situated at their desks, analyzing their data and coding between two monitor screens. Everyone's equally nice and passionate about what they do, it makes the environment less stressful knowing it's collaborative and engaging instead of being in a competitive nature. Belle pulls you aside to get your help just as Sunwoo is packing up for the day and thanking you for your help with the behavior rig. She takes about an hour or so of your time, giving you a quick rundown of the procedures she's working on and what you could help with in the next few weeks. It's after your time with Belle that you finally get to sit down at your desk and focus on the rig sitting on top of it. You don't think it'll take much time, and you feel like you'll actually be able to catch dinner with your friends.

Until you realize how difficult it is get everything situated on the breadboard properly. 

San hums as he walks through the cold air, pacing towards the Harvey Center to get to his office. He's just had a good workout at the faculty lounge, and he doesn't expect too many people [if any] to be lingering around in the open office space of the lab. He knows people are cooped up in their own laser or behavior rooms right now, and it's not even the first time he'll be strolling in casual clothes. He tries to keep himself clean and pressed down, but he too, has his days where he just wants to head to work in some jeans. A tshirt. Hoodie.

Right now, the cold is pricking his skin because he's in a black Nike dry fit shirt and sweats. He's running to the office to finish up a few last minute things before heading home and relaxing. As expected, the hallway feels eerily quiet. He assumes there could be one or two people locked away in the rooms, but he won't bother. When he gets into the office space, he doesn't see anyone in particular until he turns the corner towards his office and finds you sitting at your desk in the corner. The computer screen is pretty bright, and you've got your hands tied with a rig. 

He definitely wasn't expecting you to be here.

"Fuuuck." He hears you slightly whine when the small allen wrench in your hand slips and tumbles to the floor, followed by a few screws sitting on your desk.

"Hey Y/N, you okay?" San asks, dropping his duffle bag right in front of his office door before slowly walking over to you. You look up in surprise, eyes quickly scanning Professor Choi in his casual outfit. You're stunned at how good he looks in something so simple, how big and defined his arms are in that tight shirt; he looks so good you almost forget to respond.

He sure as hell catches on though, a tiny smirk growing at the corner of his lips.

"Oh, yeah. I'm trying to unscrew this but Sunwoo's got it in there tightly. I'm afraid I'm weak." He laughs and shakes his head.

"Nah. You're not weak." He picks up the allen wrench from the floor. "Which one?"

"This." You point. "And this too, while you're at it." He chuckles.

"You got it, boss." San angles himself closer to you, face only inches away from yours when he dips to get a better look. You watch as his arm muscles flex when he gets the wrench in there and starts undoing the screw, loosening it in a matter of seconds. "I'll let you do the rest." He moves onto the next and loosens it shortly after. When he finishes, his face is only inches away from yours and he keeps a hold there. He's looking at you again, really looking at you, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You're not sure what else to do besides nibble on your bottom lip.

"Thank you." You manage to choke out. He gives you a soft smile before handing you the allen wrench and standing fully upright.

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" 

"Um, no. I didn't." San looks at your hand a little further and notices the fresh scratch near your pinky— probably due to your hand slipping from the force, scratching it against one of the mounts sitting on the board. 

"I didn't expect you to lie to me so quickly." He teases, slight whine in his tone while he clicks his teeth. "Can I see?" You show him your hand. "Come to my office, got some ointment for it." He nods towards his door and leads the way. San could damn well show you to the lab's first aid kit down the hall, but his office is much closer and he'd feel a bit better than just sending you off to fend for yourself. 

"Professor Choi, I can just find the—" Before you can finish your sentence, he's already swinging his door open and holding it open for you.

"It's much quicker than heading down the hall to the first aid kit." He laughs a bit. You give him a tiny smile as you brush past and walk into his office, feeling a bit awkward being in his private space for something as little as a cut. You fiddle with your fingers as he places his duffle bag down onto the couch before grabbing the first aid kit in one of the drawers near his desk. He grabs a small pack of ointment and a bandaid, approaching you in the middle of the room. "Mind if I..?"

"Not at all." You leave out your hand for Professor Choi to take and he gently tugs it closer. He applies the ointment on your scab, dabbing it lightly across the surface before grabbing the bandaid and placing it on top. 

"There."

"Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome. Be careful next time. Make sure Sunwoo does the heavy lifting."

"I know. He's good help. I just figured I'd help him get a head start." San gives you a small smile. "Mind if I ask? What're you doing here later in the evening?"

"Sometimes, I just stay to get my work done. Can't always rely on my home office to keep me productive." He chuckles. "Plus, I get my workouts in at the faculty lounge." You nod.

"I see."

"How long have you been in the lab today?"

"I've been in and out in between classes."

"You haven't eaten dinner?"

"Nope. Dining hall doesn't close until 9pm, though." San looks at the time on his computer.

"Which is getting pretty close. You should wrap it up." You look at him with a small pout and it feels too difficult having to keep his composure while you keep looking at him like that. His eyes quickly dip to the low cut shirt you're wearing before he manages to divert his attention back up to your eyes. The tension is palpable, but you don't say anything. Even if you caught it, even if you wanna tease him a little. You try to stick to your own lane in case all of this is pure delusion. 

You're so fucking pretty, though. It's bad for San. 

Unhealthy.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. It's nice knowing you're working hard in the lab." He follows up with a laugh. "But, you should also get some time in for yourself. Rest and eat well. You can always come back to the work tomorrow."

"What if I fall behind?"

"There's no such thing on falling behind if you're constantly working on so many different aspects, Y/N. Plus, it's not gonna be perfect. You'll have days that're slow, that'll feel like you aren't getting much out of your project. But, I promise it picks up again and things will come out of it regardless."

"Noted." You smile at him. "I appreciate that."

"How about I finish up in there and we head out together? I'd really hate to leave you here in the office alone, especially if I don't have to." You look at him and even though everything inside of you is fighting, pleading, to say no, you end up with—

"Okay." You softly respond. "I'm gonna go clean up."

"Sounds good. I'll be out in a minute." He gives you that look again and you hate that you don't know if he looks at everyone else like this or just you. You eye him once more even as he's turned towards his desk checking his phone before you head out of his office and to your desk. You did make good progress on the rig, which you know Sunwoo would be grateful about. The only thing he needs to do is add the part he created the other day, a tube where the mouse would be situated for lick behavior tests.

Meanwhile, San plops onto his computer chair and pulls up his emails, looping in the appropriate people to help fix certain issues. He's got a few emails regarding just-in-time information needed for the grants he's been re-applying for, making a mental note to hop on a quick meeting with the people involved so they can get their reports and data together and send it off in a timely manner.

It never ends, he thinks. 

All is his life consists of now is work. The lab. Collaborating in various projects across departments. Working out. Sometimes, San wishes there was something else he could look forward to. Something else that could take time out of his day, something that he could put his attention to. Something like—

jongho: still on campus?

He turns to his phone when the text tone goes off, seeing the message from Jongho. San quickly checks the time and finishes up the last email he was working on before he got distracted.

san: yeah, gonna head out tho. just working on some last min urgent emails that came in.

jongho: wanna grab something to eat? i'll meet you at your car

san: alright, give me like 10 mins. 

San sends off his last few emails before checking his calendar for tomorrow's meetings. He has a virtual talk after class that he needs to prep for, which he'll do later tonight. Plus, he'll need to gather that information for the grants. Just thinking about it makes San breathe out a heavy sigh, slightly feeling overwhelmed at his never-ending to-do list.

Yeah, a new hobby or distraction would be nice.

"Ready?" You turn to see Professor Choi locking up his office, duffle bag slung on his shoulder. When he's done, he turns and gives you a small smile; patiently waiting for you to be ready. You nod, locking your computer and grabbing your things before walking out behind him.

"So, do you always work out in the evenings?"

"I try to, yeah." You look up at him while he walks alongside of you. "Helps me release steam from all the stuff going on."

"I can only imagine." You tug on your bag strap. "I don't know how you do it with your busy schedule."

"I'm not too busy." He says in a playful tone. "Just enough."

"Sure." You laugh. "Everyone knows how busy and occupied you are, Professor Choi."

"What if everyone just hypes me up too much and has the wrong idea about me?"

"I doubt that."

"How would you know, hm?" He smiles when he presses the elevator door. 

"Oh, please. I never not see you in a meeting or talking to someone, or doing a talk somewhere." You slip into the elevator with him. He rests against the rail on the opposite side from where you stand, fully facing you. "You even did that episode not too long ago for Professor Young's podcast."

"Wow, you really keep up, don't you?"

"How could I not?" He chuckles.

"That's nice to know that you do." He means it. As much as he loves when people treat him like a regular person, he also loves it when people keep up with his projects. His papers. His talks. He's not gonna lie; it is an ego boost, and he likes knowing that people take time out of their day because they're interested in hearing what he has to say or what he's working on now.

It's definitely nice coming from you.

You quietly stand off to the side, watching as the elevator takes you from the basement to floor 1 of the building. San is subtly eyeing you from where he stands, noticing how you keep to yourself and shift your weight between your feet in some kind of anxious move to get off of the elevator. You can barely look him in the eye and he thinks it's cute.

"What're your plans after you get dinner, Y/N?" He breaks the silence as you step out of the elevator and out of the building. The night isn't too chilly— the stars are dotting the sky beautifully, crickets are beginning to chirp. There aren't too many people moving across campus anymore, which is the usual at this time. Most are huddled up in lab if they're the working night-owl type, or resting at their dorms or apartments to get ready for the next day.

"Finish my loads of homework and try to hang out with my friends for a bit if we all aren't too tired."

"That's nice, minus the homework part." You giggle.

"What about you? If you don't mind me asking." He smiles.

"I don't. I'm just gonna meet up with the other Professor Choi and grab dinner with him."

"You two are close, yeah?" He nods.

"Yup."

"That's cute." 

"Is it?" He asks in a playful, sing-song way that has you shifting your attention to your feet to bite back a huge smile.

"It is. Very." You finally look up at him and meet his eyes. "By the way, I hope I'm not making you walk extra steps tonight." You point at the dining hall just down the path. "I can take it from here if you need to get to your car or meet him somewhere else."

"It's alright, I parked right over here." He nods towards the parking garage coming up on the left. "Easiest garage to find parking at."

"Works out then." You give him a tiny, toothless smile.

"Your friends are able to join you for dinner, right?"

"Should be. I'll call them in a few." You pause in your steps when the garage is directly to the left now. "Thanks for walking me, Professor Choi."

"You sure you don't need me to walk you towards the end of the path?"

"All good. I'm a big girl." He laughs.

"Yeah." He's doing that thing again. That thing where he just looks at you with a certain glint in his eye— a certain glint that makes you overthink, makes you wonder if he does this with everyone he comes across, or if it's just you. 

"Goodnight, I hope you have a good dinner."

"You too." You give him one last smile and wave before you start walking towards the dining hall, creating more distance between you two. You don't catch the way he continues to watch you until you've managed to cross the street and approach the dining hall— phone pressed against your ear because he assumes you're calling up your friends to meet you.

When he feels comfortable to take his eyes off of you, he crosses the way to the garage and starts walking towards his car that's sitting on the current ground level, Jongho patiently leaning against the tail end of it.

"Uh." Jongho laughs. "The hell was that?"

"What was what?"

"I saw you from here, don't try and be slick on me now." 

"It was nothing?" San pops open his trunk and tosses his duffle bag in.

"Didn't look like it." Jongho snorts.

"Y/N was just in lab and I didn't want her to leave alone."

"Your rotation student?"

"Mhm."

"Okay. I'm all for being a gentleman but be careful." He gives him a look.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I've known you for years, bro. There's a certain look in your eyes and it doesn't exactly scream 'nothing.'" 

"Well, it is." Is all San says. He doesn't really have anything else to say because he doesn't wanna sound like he's defending himself way too much when he doesn't need to. He knows better. Maybe. Hopefully.

"Aye." Jongho shrugs. "Want you to be happy but just keep it safe, yeah? You've worked really hard for everything you have."

"I know." San lets out a breath. "Anyway, where do you wanna go for dinner?"

"Happy hour at the bar nearby? I can be passenger princess, or if you really want, we can drive separately to make it easier. I guess." He playfully huffs, making San chuckle.

"Just get in." 

On the way to the bar, Jongho gives San more details about the collaboration and that the group is incredibly interested in moving forward. San nods, agreeing that it would be good for them and everyone involved both funding-wise and opportunity-wise. Jongho then tells San about his recent grants that were finally accepted and re-awarded, giving him a little more leeway to purchase new equipment he's been having his eyes on for Jiung and a few other of his lab members to toy around with. There's a certain idea that's been floating in his head for awhile now, one that San honestly doesn't understand much about because electrical engineering is a whole other beast to him. He gets the gist, and he knows Jongho has only done incredibly work, continuing to one-up himself every single time he comes back around with a new idea.

"So, there's another thing I've been thinking about." Jongho says, as they finally arrive to the sports bar and follow the host to a table on the back patio. 

"Should I be scared?" San asks as they sit and immediately order their go-to beers and the karaage they love so much. 

"I was thinking of asking the dean for some real estate at the new campus building."

"Bartlett Hall? The one that just finished construction?" Jongho nods.

"Mhmmm." He responds in a sing-song tone. "I briefly mentioned it to him in passing and he told me we'd talk more, but was hoping to get you onboard, too."

"Why me?" San laughs, picking at a piece of karaage with a toothpick before popping it into his mouth. Before San can hear Jongho's reasoning, the server comes back to take their orders. They both order different burgers, planning to exchange a half for the other. 

"Was thinking we could open the joint department together, finally have a space for us to combine our work in electrical engineering and bioengineering." San pokes out his bottom lip and nods.

"Sooo, we'd have to write a whole pitch and sell it to the dean?"

"Yeah basically, but we can run it by Namjoon first and see what he says."

"I'm down. I dunno if the dean will budge without implementing certain requirements from our end, but, I'm down to try."

"Yeah?" Jongho laughs. "Glad to hear you're down. It'll be good! I've been thinking about it for awhile but I was always hesitant. Think it's probably just best to take the leap. Worst thing they can say is no."

"That's true. Yeah, I'm down. It'll be good for the students and the postdocs. They'll have a space for them to collaborate together. Pretty exciting to think about, actually."

"Thought so." Jongho sips his beer. "I'll start working on a proposal and send it to you for edits."

"Sounds good with me."

"How was that meeting with Zara, by the way? I never got around to asking."

"Oh, it was good." He shrugs. "We talked a lot about getting her lab situated and getting on more grants ASAP."

"Sounded like a productive talk. Have you met again afterwards?"

"Yeah, it was." San clears his throat. "We met a few more times just to talk a bit more on some finer details for her lab and plans. Hope it was helpful at least. I turned her to Namjoon most of the time cause who else would know more?" Jongho laughs.

"Yeah."

"She's cool, though. Really sweet." Jongho snorts. "What?"

"I see Mingi's plan isn't really working well." San rolls his eyes, stuffing a few fries into his mouth before taking a bite. 

"Yeah, no. It's not." San shakes his head. "Don't even think about instigating, either."

"It's kinda fun. Plus, she's obviously attracted to you."

"No." San shuts it down.

"Why not? Why don't you just continue seeing where it goes?"

"I am, and I'm still in the same position I was when I first met her."

"Which is?"

"I respect her as a colleague and a colleague only." San glares at him. "I'm not going to force anything that isn't meant to happen." 

"Okay, fine. You're right. I'll get behind that." Jongho dips his last fry into the ketchup before looking back up at his bestfriend. "But at least promise me you won't be entirely closed off to it if it does naturally develop into something?"

"Uh." San pauses. He pauses not because of Zara or whatever Jongho's saying right now; he meant to agree, but he finds his thoughts suddenly roaming to.. you.

His curiosity, the need to learn more about you.

"Hello?"

"Sorry." San shakes the thoughts from his head in case Jongho can hear it or something. "Yeah."

"Definitely not genuine. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"I can hear you thinking."

"Can you? That's an invasion of privacy."

"It's her, isn't it?"

"I literally have no idea what you're talking about." Jongho stares and gives him a certain look, causing San to divert his attention away. Away from him, onto anything, anyone nearby.

"Yeah, okay. That's all I needed to know." Jongho quietly sips on the rest of his beer before pushing his plate aside and sitting back into the seat. "San, make your decisions wisely."

"I already told you it was nothing."

"Okay." Jongho says in defeat, leaving the topic alone. All he wants is for San to be genuinely happy, just like their other friends do. But, he's also hoping San is smart enough to make the right [and wise] decisions.

Not be blinded by anything, causing him to make irrational and impulsive decisions based on his feelings.

"Anyway, are you good to go?" San crumples the napkin and tosses it onto his plate before standing up and grabbing his keys, phone.

"Yeah, I am."

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd

[faebaex]

Octavinelle with Jellyfish Reader

author note: I’m baaack! It feels good to finally write again. Not anything long, but just some good ol’ slice of life headcanons with the fish mafia (who i think I’m currently obsessed with??) maybe I’ll write more about this, like a small drabble of jellyfish!reader finally remembering Azul or something pfft. Also, gender neutral reader!! Because I realised a lot of my works could be read that way, so I might start labelling like that from now on, so more people can enjoy  (*≧ω≦*)

characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech x GN!Jellyfish Reader

background: 

You’re a jellyfish mer, specifically of the box jelly variety, meaning that you are highly poisonous. As such, people can be stung as easily as touching your skin, so you keep your skin covered up as much as possible. Well, as much as you can remember, as you are a bit... Airheaded. 

Azul Ashengrotto

You are the bane of Azul's life.

Seriously, his self confidence takes a battering during almost every interaction you have (the tweels don't help).

Why? Because you can never remember who he is.

"Y/N, please pass these papers to Azul." "Okay! ... Who is Azul?"

(He never gets those papers either because you forget why you have them in the first place...)

Azul would never admit it out loud, but he was excited when he learned a fellow invertebrate would be joining Octavinelle. You'd be able to relate to each other, no? Another mer with several appendages who prefers to swim slowly. A perfect match.

Except you are apparently impervious to his charms, and your blank stare haunts him.

Like hello, this is your Housewarden speaking. Anybody home? Do you remember him? ... No? You can't remember him but you remember the twins? Of course you do. Of course.

On the bright side for Azul, your empty headedness makes you deliciously easy to scam.

In fact, he doesn't even need to manipulate you into a contract. You're more than happy to stand sweetly, holding some leaflets promoting the Monstro Lounge's new special menu, or to stand aimlessly at the door, helping to attract clientele.

Now, if only he could think of a way to get you to remember him...

Jade Leech

Apart from the amusement he got from Azul's suffering, Jade wasn't really interested in you at first.

Nothing against you, of course. He just didn't find you very interesting.

However, that all changed when you visited his booth during the culture fair and stared dreamily into his terrariums.

Jade was absolutely delighted to tell you all about each of his terrariums and even about his foraging in the mountains. You stayed until Jade had to leave for his Monstro Lounge duties, and even then he was reluctant to disturb you.

You also won his first guest prize mystery mushroom too!

He found it utterly adorable when he found you still carrying it around in your hands later during the culture fair, cupped delicately like a precious item.

Inevitably, you and Jade fell into an arrangement where he'd talk your ears off about everything mountain and mushroom, and he'd let you view his updated terrariums.

He was fully aware you weren't retaining any of the information he was assailing you with, but you served well as an outlet for him to talk about his hobby, as Floyd was uninterested, and it charmed him that you stared so happily at his terrariums, his work of arts, that he allowed himself to indulge.

But you surprised him one day (no easy feat!). Jade was once again pitching some mushroom dishes for the Monstro Lounge menu to Azul, with some mushrooms for illustrative purposes.

When Azul handled one of the mushrooms with disdain, asking what exactly this was, you suddenly piped up before Jade could.

"That's a chanterelle mushroom. They work well sautéed... And in cream sauces." Cue shocked Jade and Azul.

Low-key Azul is fuming because how can you remember that but not him??

Jade never imagined you would retain any of what he told you, being airheaded was in your nature after all. So he was touched, charmed in fact that you could recall some facts about a mushroom on sight.

He recovered from his shock quickly with a large toothy grin, capitalising on Azul's shock to launch another sales pitch.

Your fate was sealed, he definitely would be taking you along on his next mountain walk.

Floyd Leech

Oh he just loves you, jellyfish! So cute, sweet and squishy!

You are one of Floyd's favourite people to squeeze. He can squeeze you as hard as he likes, and you don't even flinch!

It is guaranteed that if he catches sight of you on campus, he is charging over to you to wrap his arms around you, squeezing and throwing you around with exuberance. Onlookers look on in horror as you just give a ditzy smile.

But as a result of Floyd's constant manhandling of you, it means he sometimes accidentally touches your skin and gets stung.

Resulting in multiple trips to the infirmary. But don't worry, Floyd doesn't get mad about it. In fact, some swear that he likes it.

By this point, it's happened so often that Floyd is likely building up a bit of resistance to your venom.

Now, Floyd tends to sometimes be a bit... Overprotective of you.

Seven forbid he feel that someone is bothering or messing with you. He'll be behind you in a flash, an arm thrown around your shoulder and sharp teeth bared in a snarl.

"Nee... What do you want with my jelly, huh?"

If the other students thought you were an easy mark before, they think twice now with your guard eel lurking about.

Jade and Azul like to keep you in the Lounge when Floyd is having a bad mood day, as your presence tends to keep him from wandering off and help salvage some productivity.

Azul is even willing to waive the loitering rule if that means Floyd will stay in the lounge and do some work.

It doesn't always work, mind. Sometimes Floyd just ends up laying across you in a booth and ignoring his duties. But Azul will take what he can get, at least he is there in case there are any troublesome clientele.

[the-monkeies-girl]

Flame Kissed Skin. ( Caesar x Human!Reader, Planet of the Apes Oneshot. )

and then i said oh my god

Title: Flame Kissed Skin. Fandom: ( Dawn of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Implications of mating, sexual themes. ) Pairing: HEAVILY! Implied Caesar x Human!Reader. Words: 3.2K+ Summary: AU where Cornelia died after giving birth to Blue Eyes. What would the Ape King's reaction be to seeing you wearing a dress for the first time? CAESAR MASTERLIST. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

You scanned the Colony that was flickering with ambient lighting basing from the sweeping bonfire that was in front of you, the speckled torches that spotted along the inside of the Colony border that reminded you of how twinkling Holiday lights would be displayed during the Season. Blaze drenched all across the delicate but harshly torn nature of the wicker baskets that cased around the sides and down the minor cliffside, greeting with happiness at the celebration that took hold for such a successful Hunt. 

Captivating shadows along the fur of many Apes who were taking in their communal aspect of meals, greatly enjoyed and deeply imbued with a sense of respect they had to spend time together. You had not seen anything like it since arriving at the Colony; it was not done after every Hunt but done often enough, you gathered, to keep the spirits up and to keep everyone engaged in building and maintaining the lifestyle that they had enabled since the wiping of Humanity due to the Flu. 

Elk and smaller Game as usual that were freshly roasted and cooked coated the inside of the wicker bowls, free for grazing along with nuts, berries and roots that had been foraged that day by the Female Apes who did not participate in the hunting with their mates or the ones they were destined to be with. You smiled bashfully at Lake and Blue Eyes who were sitting next to you, knowing the truth of the unspoken that rested there and admired with a softened gaze how enthralled in conversation they had been before it turned more sarcastic and fun when Ash and River finally joined. 

You chattered with them, your hand signing rudimentary but you were still grateful that they were able to understand the small funny quips you were alluding to about their endeavors of the day. Sliding your boot-clad feet against the slick rock below your perched seat, you were suddenly flushed with a wall of anxiousness. 

Caesar had not made himself known to your wondering stare. You had lingered a few moments too long on Rocket who was speaking with Luca off a few meters to your left, grinning gratefully at them before turning to the right and seeing nothing of interest except for Koba who’s half a gawk always rode a chill up your spine, enough to cause you to legitimately feel cold despite the flames that were toasting the bare skin that was exposed to the ocean air brought in by the breeze.

Bringing your hand up, you slid the cap of your inch-wide sleeve upwards to the case around your shoulder and lingered your fingers there as you repositioned the strap to stop it from sliding down your arm. You were not one for dresses; they had no purpose in a world that was so harsh and cruel but… Tilting your head to the side, you ran your fingers downwards to play against your kneecaps. You wanted something different; something celebratory for yourself as you were unable to fully appreciate the Hunt that provided the Colony with such pride and abundant food. 

‘Father.’ Blue Eyes signed, flicking his gaze from his core group of friends who he had been raised with, to you for a brief moment and then beyond your smaller shoulder towards the Ape King himself who casted a minor and dancing shadow against the back of your body.

You stiffened, feeling the rounding of his large frame coming to grips next to yours, your ample eyes watching in acute fascination how his thigh muscles shifted, how his feet were able to dexterously hit the ground below to keep his balance as he returned a greeting gesture to Blue Eyes and then to the group of Apes. None of which seemed affected by his sudden appearance, none of them saw Caesar as anything more than their leader; strong and powerful, rightfully so you thought and tried to trail your peering irises towards something else as the Chimp came to sit next to you, slowly. 

Too slowly, you felt like screaming the moment that his fur capsized against the bare skin of your upper arm and you were suddenly cursing inside of your mind for not wearing actual functioning clothing. A dress, stupid decision you muttered, popping your mouth and looking at the fire.

It was red; the deeper shade that resembled more of a blood soak, captivated around the fibers were yellow and pink flowers that reminded you of the ones that grew in the meadow near the Colony. You wondered… Giving some attention to Caesar as he was engaged now with Blue Eyes about the Hunt. You had to wonder if Caesar would notice a detail like that, the small hairs that lined your body rising in anticipation as if you were seeking his validation in the first place.

You could have sworn between the gestures that Father and Son were sharing that Caesar did spot you a few glances. Sweeping his gold and green encrusted eyes against the bare nature of your legs, your feet shuffling inwards a bit out of embarrassment for not having proper shoes but you felt you’d slip and fall on rocks if you tried anything other than your worn-with-time boots.

The way your breathing picked up was noticed by Caesar, the rising and falling of the fabric against your chest pushing the small detailed and faux wooden buttons against the curve of your breasts so immaculately, like they would burst if he stared at them too intently, that he found it difficult to focus momentarily. 

There was a silent goodbye between them all, something you had not noticed in your crazed fit to ignore the way that your mind was racing with thoughts about the Ape next to you. Blue Eyes, Lake, River and Ash left you, your eyes watching their forms before you glanced over, trying to push down the lingering notion that you needed to say goodbye as well and trail to your grounded nest for the night as well. 

“Have not…” The tips of your ears pricked at the sound of a deeply rich and catapulting baritone and you twisted your body minutely, appreciating now the coldness of the rock you were sitting on against the heat on the back of your thighs. “Seen Human… Clothes… Like that… Long time.”

“Yeah, well.” You chuckled nervously and rolled your shoulders as soon as you felt Caesar’s ogle on them, the falling and shifting as your body subconsciously drifted towards his own, leaning inwards to get his utmost attention. It was like your own actions weren’t yours, there was nothing stopping you from gravitating towards Caesar as heat ran against your cheeks, against the bottoms of your eye sockets and ran all the way to the very tip of your ears.

“Wanted to wear something nice. Fo-For the Celebration! I’ve never seen the other Apes so… Celebratory.” That was stupid, why did I just say that? You looked at him from the corner of your eye and could see the huff of his broad chest. Was he… laughing? Swallowing hard, you drew your mouth into a jerked grin and muttered, “We don’t really get the weather here for these sorts of clothes, you know? I-I don’t have fur like you guys do so I stay pretty bundled up…---” Your voice tapered into nothingness as Caesar shifted once more beside you, bringing his form in the few inches it took until his bicep was kissing against yours fully, smothering at your softer skin was coarse fur that made you want to roll your eyes back in ecstasy. Yeah… You had to admit and leered down at the contact that was made. Yeah… You wanted his attention. The dress. Everything about it, you wanted to crawl into Caesar’s lap and let him feel your bare thighs around his muscular and thinner waist, holding onto him for dear life with your entire body.

“It is…” There was a moment of pause as he trudged through his limited dictionary that seemed to expand day in and day out the more time he spent with you. “Nice to see… Something different.”

A tiny shudder that was not caused by cold ran down your body and rested itself between your legs, and with the motion you made to bring your knees together to subdue that, Caesar was blessed with a shocking state of your scent. There was no mistaking it, the Ape King thought to himself and brought his eyes down to look at your face from his peripheral vision.

Downwards, dripping like slow moving honey against the bark of a tree, he was able to see the trudges of your sternum as your shoulders were brought together out of innate nerves from being so near to Caesar, there was no denying the waft of arousal that sat itself between you, coating the very tips of his fur that was caressing you in spots. Stiffening at the notion that he could see your bare breasts if he tried hard enough, Caesar drew his glance forward once more. 

“T-Thanks.” You muttered under your breath and drew air into your lungs that stayed stagnant for a split second as if you wanted to suffocate yourself. With the exaltation, the strap that refused to sit in its position against your shoulder fell down once more, reflex kicking in and you went to push it back upwards. Not before Caesar managed, his reaction time being much greater than that of a meager Human.

Hot… Your mouth parted as you looked down. Slow motion, Caesar drew your thin strap up, two thick fingers dancing lightly against the top of your willing skin. The curve of your shoulder cap was paid attention to as Caesar made the action his own, finally setting the strap down in its allotted position before his entire palm skimmed at your shoulder and held on in a ghosting whisper. There was the evident nature that his skin was calloused, but you wanted to hold every part of your body until your nerve endings were fried and you were able to feel nothing else. 

“Thank you…” That did not sound like your voice. It was wistful around the edges, almost desperate in the center. You hated it, eyes hooded as you tried to keep yourself in slacked control but there was nothing keeping you grounded anymore. Nothing anymore as you turned your head fully and felt your cheek brush against the knuckles of the Ape King, tickling at your pores were the less thick bristles of his fur that played along the flatter pieces on the outside of his fingers.

Quickened inhales paired with sharper exhales puffed air onto Caesar’s face, the fur that rode against his collarbones rose at the closeness that he never allowed himself in the first place after Cornelia passed. Something about this though, his eyes meeting yours in a moment of flurried and frenzied attraction, felt… right.

Maybe Caesar was drunk from the celebration; not from sustenance or substances, but from happiness that he never allowed himself to feel at the forefront of his pragmatic mind. Maybe it was the fact that his fellow Apes were indeed prospering beyond what he imagined was possible all those years ago, sitting in front of a rounded window and watching teenagers act as such. Maybe…--- 

Caesar looked down at your neck as you swallowed hard, the enthralling nature of which your jugular shifted all too intoxicating for the Ape King who brought the palm of his hand down to pet along your bicep, maybe he wanted to be those teenagers. Maybe, he wanted to just take you into his nest without reserve and make you his. Over and over and over. Lust was such a Human element in all of this, Caesar was never one to admit that. Caesar never really cared to admit that as he flickered his glance downwards to your thighs and how they bristled at the hem of the dress.

“You have… many… of these?” He gestured with his free hand to your entire shape and how it was filling out the fabric. In most situations, you’d have torn yourself away from the attention, away from the notions that you needed this interaction. But Caesar… Was nothing more than unwavering in how he assured you in your Human aspects that you wanted to cling to when living with other Apes. The Chimp next to you kept motivation strong that you did not lose yourself, that you remained as Human as you could because deep down… 

Drawing your bottom lip in, you shook your head and let a rattling breath escape your lips. Deep, deep down… Caesar liked everything about it. The wash of your hair in the flames, how it bounced the outline, the casts of playful silhouettes against the actual garment of the crimson dress, your fingers calling themselves in and out on your lap, relaxing into a palm before crimping into a fist; racking with nerves and fears that were not known consciously but always lingered in the back of your mind whenever the Ape King allotted himself the privilege of being so near to you.

“Thi---... This was the only one I was able to find after the Flu hit. At least, the only one that fits me.”

“Fits well.” The chortle that came from the depths of your throat was nothing more than a nightmare as you nodded, flushing your entire body with heat that rivaled even the Sun blisters. It took nearly all your will power to remind yourself that Caesar was like that; blunt and brash, oftentimes to the point of obliviousness at how his words would come across. 

But this, you came to a slow stopped giggle and allowed the delectation of staring at him once more, his side profile was just as stern and intimidating as it was the first time you admired it, but there was a softening around his browline that you figured was due to the light of the fire in front of you, why else would Caesar give you such a vulnerable look at him? You tried to argue but found fascination in it otherwise as your pointer fingers twitched out of desire to touch his brows to see if they would soften further. 

The drooling of the lightened brown that rode against the fur that lined the outside of his hardened features, the minute detailing of graying fur that was spotting through. The rise and fall of his flatter nose, calm and collected… You saw nothing that indicated that he meant the words as anything less than a compliment. Try to twist it as you may, Caesar’s stance said as he finally withdrew the hand that was near your bicep and replaced the contact with undiluted eye contact, his full face now painted in clear vision for you, I meant what I said with all the intentions it implies. 

Shuddering a bit, Caesar took note of that and muttered the smallest, “Not much… Fabric to keep you… shielded.” “Yeah… I uhm… I forgot to bring my… jacket…” You uttered in response, absolutely lost in the way that he was gawking into your stare. Dominant were his green irises, submissive were the golden flecks that were resting within that danced along with the oranges and yellows that cased against his glazed orbs from the fire. 

Stop, you wanted to say and parted your mouth, Caesar drinking up the taste of your air for you were no more than a few centimeters away from a forehead brisk, stop looking at me like that, Caesar… But your body had its change of heart, telling the truer intentions of your choice of apparel as you scooted inwards a bit more to captivate your senses against the heat of his body, Caesar relenting whatever self-control he had as he brought a hand up to rest against your bare shoulder once more. 

A near moan escaped your parted lips as he dragged his heated palm down and trenched the strap he had situated for you right along with it as you swallowed hard, to no avail and there was no lump resting in the back of your esophagus. “Cae-” “Can… Walk you back to… nest if you would… Like.  Get… warm there?”

There were heavy implications in his words that were now pairing with his actions as you nodded only wordlessly, watching with bated desire as Caesar stood in front of you, your eyes carding themselves down his frame and stiffening at the pure stance of power he had once he laid his entire weight on his proportionally shorter legs. Large hand out, you stared at it and let the other sleeve of your dress fall, beckoning to the Ape King your answer without having to say anything as you were now exposing the full scape of your collarbones for him, imagination running rampant at the prospect of laying bare bite marks against the delicate skin and snapping at the bones below. 

There was an answer to the flittering question that had yet to be asked as you dived your hand into his, feeling a shock down your fingers into your wrist as Caesar picked you up carefully, his own gaze falling down at your feet to make sure you were not going to slip. 

“W-Wish I had fur sometimes.” You joked and felt fleeting like a leaf as Caesar began helping you trail towards your smaller home, nestled on the ground rather than high up in suspended air as was the preferred way of the Apes of the Colony. Glancing over your shoulder, you were thankful it appeared that they all had returned to their own homes, the bonfire now being left to die as the night trailed into pitch blackness. 

How would you explain to any of them… That Caesar was whisking you away, his hand pressing against your hip as you hopped down a small step, nearly crunching yourself against his chest as a result. How would you explain this to anyone? Gasping quietly, you felt the bunching of your dress around your waist as Caesar grasped you even tighter and pulled you nearly flushed against his barrel chest.

“Alright? Humans… so unbalanced.” 

That was a joke, you recognized with an ample look of amusement swirling now with the future ideas of how Caesar was going to keep you warm once you arrived at your hut if you were feeling so bold to invite him in. But, the idea was already planted, it was Caesar who suggested to get you warm out of courtesy of your Humanness. You got cold, he knew that. You got cold, you tried to ignore that as you were quick to rationalize the attraction that was suddenly present but had been there since you first met. “I-I’m okay…” You swallowed hard, looking at his pectorals and lining the trace of his scar. Tucking your fingers into his furred forearms, you moved them inwards as if to give the silent permission that he was allowed to touch you, that the dress that laid against you as a second skin of sorts was nothing more than an obstacle at this point. “Y-You don’t need to walk me all the way back to my hut, you know. I-I’m pretty good seeing in the d---”

Caesar chuffed at that, the sound as encompassing as ever as you also felt it against your chest coming from deep inside of his diaphragm and the familiar wash of arousal cased between your legs and drenched Caesar's entire self, eyes dilating as he muttered, almost flirtatious around the edges as you had never heard before.

“Never said… I was taking you back… to your nest.”

[fadingplaidlibrary]

harvey headcanons

dr. harvard gregory mcclintock. what a man

our sweet boy was raised in a small town just east of stardew valley. his parents lived with his maternal grandmother, and regularly hosted a revolving door of cousins and extended family. he grew up in a very full house

he’s the third of four children. his older twin sisters, charlotte and eleanor, both live in zuzu city. charlotte is an executive chef and eleanor is a personal trainer. his younger brother robbie is a skydiving instructor who travels for work

he’s not really allergic to salmonberry or spice berry, he just grew up foraging and picking so many fresh berries in the summers as a kid that one day he got sick of them

he is mildly allergic to joja cola though, which he didn’t find out until he mentioned to a friend in college that he doesn’t like the spicy aftertaste of the drink (that beverage is… not supposed to be spicy)

he was a quiet kid growing up. he wore big green glasses, he had a lisp, and he was kinda gangly. he liked running and swimming, but was never particularly well-coordinated when it came to sports or dancing

he got his first growth spurts pretty early, but he was a late bloomer when it came to dating. he went on his first date in college, and he didn’t even realize it was a date until his lady friend kissed him on the lips when they got to her door

despite being a doctor, he’s entirely too squeamish to do any procedures on himself. no drawing blood, no sutures, not even finger pricks. he got a splinter in his foot once while he was down at the docks, and he had to look away while elliott removed it for him

he’s really good at skipping stones across the lake but he can’t do it if he knows anyone is watching him

besides his established fear of heights, he’s also scared of spiders, snakes, clowns, public speaking, and venus fly trap plants

speaking of plants, he’s killed every plant he ever had except one - a snake plant his sisters sent him to cheer him up while he was in med school. he nicknamed the plant bertha and it’s been with him ever since

he’s very careful about his grooming. nothing too elaborate, but he does wear sunscreen every day, flosses daily, gives himself regular manicures and pedicures, and irons his work clothes like his grandma taught him. and of course, he keeps his signature mustache neatly trimmed

he sleeps in whatever old sweats or gym shorts he can find in his drawers, but that man sleeps with a satin pillowcase to protect his curls and you cannot convince me otherwise. also, his grandma gifted him a heated blanket for the holidays one year and it’s his prized possession

he’s really close with his dad. his dad is a retired commercial pilot, and even though harvey couldn’t follow in his footsteps, they share other interests and hobbies. his dad is a real cheerleader for all four of his kids, but especially his little harvey-bear

sometimes when he has insomnia, he walks to the park next to the community center and lays on a bench to stargaze. one time, linus and gil even found him fast asleep there when they did their pre-dawn patrol sweep

[shwaesar]

Some Caesar x Reader HCs

SFW (for now :3c)

You would meet between the events of Dawn and War, but in a timeline where Cornelia was unable to be saved after giving birth to Cornelius. The humans still tried, they tried so hard, but she eventually succumbed and this left Caesar in a perpetual state of grief that he could never fully heal from. He had to stay strong for his sons, for his people. Mourning properly was a luxury he just never awarded himself.

Koba used her death to manipulate the masses into distrust of those that had tried to help her. Caesar knew this was wrong, but a part of him was irrationally blaming them too, so he didn't step in to stop Koba until it was too late. All of this lead to him still being shot, found by the same humans, nursed back to health, and found again by Blue Eyes. (With his mother being killed and later believing Caesar dead too, he was even more easily convinced of the need for war. But his father thankfully managed to bring him back down to earth once they reunited.)

Because of the traumatic events that proceeded you, he's distant at first. It's nothing personal, just how he became with almost everyone after what happened. Especially humans.

But he's not a monster. When you're found in the woods, on the verge of starvation and vulnerable to the elements, he only hesitates a moment before declaring sanctuary for you within his colony. He has his best healers work tirelessly to bring you back to full health while not tending to others, goes on his own hunts to feed you without dipping into the apes rationed meat and foragables, wanting there to be no reason for anyone to object to your stay.

Not that anyone would, mind you. He's their leader, their king, and his word is law. But tensions are still running high, and it's just not a risk worth taking before he can be sure you won't bring trouble to his tribe.

Your first conversation tells you as much. You only meet properly once you're sitting up and eating on your own, the only ones interacting with you before that being his healers.

"You are... getting better?"

Doesn't bother trying to sign, since he's learned to assume humans no longer have the unspoken language.

"Good. You will.... stay. Here. Only here. No leaving this spot, and... only eat what is given to you. Understand?"

It's also the only conversation you have with him, at least for the first few weeks.

Initially, his only motivation is avoiding more death. If he can help it, he never wants to bear witness to death again, his heart just couldn't take it, not yet.

But then you had to go and make yourself at home. Slowly, you start to acclimate. He watches as Maurice takes initiative with you, offering a guiding hand into the rest of their world. You couldn't realistically stay in a healing nest for the rest of your life, after all.

You're taught basic sign, how to weave baskets, how to skin meat and then do the tanning process for furs.. You're better at some things than others, same as most apes, but you take pride in being able to contribute to the community that's housing you, and he definitely takes note of that fact.

Seeing you interact with his sons is what ultimately warms him up to you though. You notice Blue Eyes take an interest in Lake and proceed to tease him about it before offering advice. Obviously courtship and romance work differently with apes than with humans, but you would've caught the gist of how their 'dating' works. You tell Blue Eyes to give her a gift, a small one at first, and if she reacts well to it, to give another that's more meaningful at a later date. He does, and it works, and Blue Eyes is very grateful for your help but HATES that you were right (affectionately).

But then Caesar finds you with Cornelius one day, holding him, telling him human stories to keep him entertained while his father and brother were supposedly busy. It means more than you could possibly know, to be providing an almost maternal presence to his youngest, who was admittedly in need of one. After that, you're officially a part of his colony as far as he's concerned, and god help anyone who tries to suggest otherwise.

Attraction though, that's something not even he was prepared for. It makes sense to a certain extent - Caesar was raised by humans, had only interacted with his own kind when he'd already reached adulthood, so human standards of beauty were something imposed on him from an early age. He knew what it meant to be an attractive human or an unattractive human, and you were definitely the former in his eyes. But to be feeling that attraction himself, this unnatural taboo among apes and humans alike..

It freaks him out a little bit, in all honesty.

You would've just started talking to him more, brief but meaningful conversations here and there, when he starts actively avoiding you. You go days at a time without even spotting him from a distance, and you get this awful feeling that he's upset with you, that you've done something to unintentionally antagonise him. You haven't. He's just feeling a lot of complicated feelings and needs space to sort through them all.

Desire. Embarrassment. Lust. Shame. Guilt.

But once again, Maurice is there to make sure everything works out. He knows what Caesar is feeling, catching him in habits of courtship. Leaving more food than usual at your bedside (you continue to live in the healing nest, even when fully recovered), grooming himself more attentively, his fur bristling when another male gets a little too close for comfort. Maurice doesn't get it, to him you're a close friend but you're still a human. You're weak, hairless, slow, your body shaped in ways that he finds fascinating but odd, and all of those are things apes specifically don't want in a mate. But he cares more for Caesars happiness than understanding it, and decides to provide some much needed mediation.

He talks to Caesar first, calling him out on his obvious infatuation, knowing better than to think the chimp would ever admit it without it being forced out of him. They spend a good while discussing you, and Caesar goes on to list the things he's come to adore about you. Your kindness. Your strength of heart. Your smile, your laugh, your eyes - and slowly, Maurice sort of starts to see what he's talking about. Even if unusual, there's no denying that, hypothetically, you would make a good mate for their leader. The tricky part would be how you respond to the proposal.

Because you are, at the end of the day, human. Even if you feel the same way, there will be a multitude of differences and challenges to overcome if you wanted to make it work. He warns Caesar of that.

But for you, Caesar would climb the tallest mountains. He would scour deserts to bring you water never before drank. He would happily lay down his life so you could wear his pelt, if it meant protecting you from the cold. And, if need be, he'd never bring it up again if you decided against it. Against him.

And that's even more of a big deal than you might think. Because love like that is a human affair.

Before the flu, apes were promiscuous by nature. With their heightened intelligence came the establishment of monogamy, a single mate you want to provide for, to bear children with, to share a nest and resources with. Fondness and affection was their standard for love, in the emotional sense. Biologically, it was a result of territorial instinct. This person is mine, and no one else can have them. Only I will make them happy. Only I am worthy.

Caesar feels all that for you, but the type of intense, all encompassing love he describes is an extremely human thing to feel. He recognises that, and it's one of the reasons he's so scared by it. But Maurice is supportive as ever, and ends up being the best wingman an ape could ask for.

The orangutang ends up instigating subtle conversations with you the next day, under the guise of curiosity. He asks about human relationships. About your customs and standards. About what humans like in a partner. And he takes all the information you give him, to report back to Caesar.

A lot of preparation is made, all in an effort to make you as happy and comfortable as possible. A private fire is set up by the river, away from prying eyes. Maurice grooms Caesars back for a good while, plucking out any dirt or twigs that might have gotten stuck in his fur. Caesar even goes scavenging in the remains of the human city, returning with an assortment of things he believes will help him.

He shampoos himself for the first time since he was a boy. He ends up fluffy and smelling like lavender, a few patches here and there not fully rinsed off and sticking together in clumps. He considers shaving his beard, but ultimately decides against it in favour of using a broken comb on it instead. He even finds an old tie, but he doesn't know how to tie it, so it ends up as a lopsided knot at his throat.

He's desperate to not be repulsive to you. He would be to most humans after all, at least in this regard. In his mind, if he's willing to adjust enough, to be human enough, only then would you even consider him as a potential mate.

But then it happens.

He has Maurice bring you to the river late one night, where he's waiting to greet you with a small bouquet of wildflowers.

You've never seen him so... awkward. So sheepish, so unsure of himself. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's trying to do, but you let him play it out as he sees fit.

It takes more willpower than you'd like to admit not to laugh, but you manage to bite it back.

The two of you sit by the fire for hours, as he goes on a small tangent about how appreciative he is of you, how grateful he is to have met you. You reply in modest thanks, returning the sentiment. But of coarse, you eventually have to ask-

Why all this?

Why change himself so much to have this conversation?

"Because.... you are human. And have changed yourself, to live with apes."

He takes your hand, so small and delicate compared to his own, and lets his thumb trace your knuckles.

"Wanted you to know... I could change too."

The realisation of his mindset horrifies you at first. You take both his hands in turn and tell him you don't want him to change. That you respect and accept him for who and what he is, that the changes you've made are different because you're the one becoming a part of their life.

He gets a little defensive. Suddenly, he's very self conscious of the fact that he might look silly to you, like this. His nostrils flare and he looks away, letting you finish before huffing.

"Respect.... accept... but could you.... love me? For what I am??"

He asks it in a more accusatory manner than he intended, but the tone makes you snap back at him.

"I do love you for what you are!"

The silence that follows is almost deafening. You stare at each other in incredulous surprise, and he watches as your cheeks flush, your mind finally catching up with your mouth. You open it again, as if to say something else, but nothing comes out.

He searches your face, trying to get a sense of how you wanted him to respond. Internally, the words make his heart flutter, but he doesn't dare express anything before your own emotions are readable.

But your expression just mirrors his. You're blinking dumbly at one another, unsure of how to proceed.

Then.... you laugh. The faintest snicker escapes you, soon building into proper laughter. You just can't help it, the situation is so tense and he's gaping at you like a fish, with a crudely attempted tie around his neck and fur making him look almost like a pampered poodle. You're about to apologise, not wanting him to think you're laughing at him.

But he's laughing too, the ridiculousness of it all not lost on him, even if he'd been trying to do what he thought you'd sincerely want. And your giggling is so infectious to him, even if it's a sound that only a human can really make. He adores it, because it's you.

And there's no denying the wave of relief that washes over him. Unabashedly, he reaches out to cradle the back of your head, and pulls your temple to his own as your mutual chuckling slowly fades. Again, you're left staring at each other. But this time it's in a much more comfortable, intimate way.

"Can... try this again? Tomorrow?"

You agree, under the condition that he let you help get all the product out of his fur.

He's more than happy with that arrangement.

[aotearoa20]

In my brain the entire house of Fëanor in Valinor pre everything going wrong has a strong “I love that you love what you do’ dynamic with each other. 

Maedhros practises his speeches on obscure legislature while modelling for Nerdanel while she listens intently. She’s completely lost and completely invested, interrupting him only once to ask he keep his hand up a little higher.

Celegorm discussing with Fëanor late into the night about the grammatical structure of the language of rabbits and how it affects their hierarchical structures. Everything he’s saying sort of scratches the part of Fëanor’s brain still hung up on his linguistics hyperfixations way back when.

Caranthir knows nothing about musical theory but after hearing Maglor complaining about all the way through breakfast about this tune he just can’t get right, his math brain is like ‘the rhythm is off’ and Maglor has to switch on his music brain to translate but then is like “Valar above! I was using a mismatched time signature”

Curufin patiently sitting through Amras’ tea tasting test from random leaves he’s foraged while hunting. Amrod patiently waiting as Curufin halts his cartography expedition because “Ambraussa LOOK silver deposits!!”

Just like, the Noldorin meraki was strong in that family. They may not understand what it is so interesting about each others Things but they totally get being excited about a Thing so they happily listen to an info dump on rocks when they know their tirade on fabric pigments was up next,

[pampushky]

Foot of the Gallows

trafalgar d. water law/reader - chapter 5 - 3.2k

ao3 link | masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter

5.) lion's bane

A powerful sedative once dried and powdered. When picked fresh, it can be pickled and then eaten to help children sleep before significant procedures. Legend says it was once used to make a fierce mountain lion sleep, so that it could then be put into the royal menagerie.

You’re on your way back from foraging for a certain mushroom that only grows deep in the forest when you see someone leave your shop, which is interesting. Because your shop was always closed during this specific time, on the same day every week, it makes you freeze before you sprint back to the shop, fearing some version of a robbery only to find…. a clinic.

Lined up around the first floor of your shop are dozens of people staring at you while you stand there with your chest heaving, your harvesting sickle held out like a weapon. And sitting behind the counter, in your stool that has always been your stool since you could walk, is Law, focused entirely on the swollen wrist of a mink-hybrid child. Tiny little cat ears flattened to their head while a doting father hovers, a bushy white tail twitching back and forth as Law murmurs and draws a shimmery black string of mana a centimeter or two over the child’s wrist. The string flashes, sinking into the child’s skin, watching as the wrist stops swelling, while Law scribbles down something on a piece of paper— your paper! 

He blinks at you as you stand there and give a little wave as you look at the line of people. They’re mostly peasantry, the same people who you would have ended up writing prescriptions and waving the payment, though you do see a few nicer-dressed folk, who look rather embarrassed to be sighted alongside the lowborn seeking Law’s care. 

“You were gone, so I opened up my clinic here.” Law gestures to the line and how he’s set up at your counter. Using your pens and paper. Offering the younger patients sweets you saved to keep off your hunger during rushes.

“You’re in my stool and using my paper,” the words come out before you can stop them. And you feel your face heat up. Because that’s not what you’re really mad about, but you still want to let him know that you’re mad about them. 

So you turn right on your heel and go upstairs to start to dry the mushrooms you’d foraged, but it’s not right, because you’re supposed to be downstairs when you do this. After all, that’s the best place to do it. It’s not too humid, and the light around this time of day is perfect even when you’re an hour late or early from coming back. But it’s too loud down there, and the floors will be covered in mud, and you’ll have to clean it all again before you can start, meaning that the mushrooms will take longer to dry, or they may not dry correctly at all. 

It’s ridiculous. You know that. They’ll dry fine on the kitchen counter as long as you cut them the same way and use the same spells to help wring the moisture from them. But downstairs was where your mother had taught you how to do it. Where your Uncle had helped you learn the spell to pull the water from it, and it was always where you had done it.

Downstairs is where Law had become your husband now, too. 

With matching embroidered cuffs and necklines, as was standard for the couples that could afford it, it was your fault for not clarifying to the tailor that he didn’t have to do that. You look down at the thread around the cuff of your sleeve. The serpentine body entwined with the ivy. Constricting, tightening around the neckline of your dress, and by instinct, your hand goes to your throat as if to ensure nothing is there.

Why do you keep having to remind yourself that Law had never choked you on that day? You place your hands flat on the counter, counting down from ten as you had learned to do when your mind got the better of you in these moments.

Law can feel the prickle of annoyance and anxiety trickling down his back as he helps the next person in line. Your mana makes a prickling noise, almost like a Geiger counter, in his ears (not that Law knew what a Geiger counter was or could even comprehend the idea of nuclear waste). And continues to feel it, crackling in the back of his mind until there’s no one left in the shop. He’s well aware it’s yours, but he’s not sure about what. It’s been a week— the pattern you two have set out has worked thus far. 

Or, he thinks it has. You don’t talk to him unless it’s absolutely necessary. But the anxiety says otherwise. And just when he’s about to start sweeping, he can feel a jolt of rather violent anxiety spiking— enough so that he sprints upstairs just to see you with your palms on the countertop, staring at a pile of neatly-sliced mushrooms on your drying rack. He can hear you mumbling, one of your hands clenched in a tighter fist than the other. 

The mushrooms are dried now, or close to it, but you still seem frazzled. Eyes squeezed shut as you count your way down from fifty. 

“Are you alright…?” Law stays at the top of the stairs, not wanting to get too close. Your hunched form leaning against the doorframe of your bathroom haunts him still. 

“Fine.” You gasp out as if it’s painful to do so. “Perfect. Amazing. Stupendous. What are other synonyms, you were always better at the languages than I was,” you trail off, and he can see how labored your breathing is as you start to count down from sixty. 

“...You don’t sound it,” Law speaks hesitantly. Weighing your symptoms in his mind, practiced eyes taking in your entire body. Anxiety attack. You need grounding, and fast. You’d never been good with more practiced methods– he recalls that much, or rather, has had those details committed to memory forever. So, he walks briskly to your side, pulls you to the kitchen sink as you briefly protest, only to plunge your hands into a stream of icy cold water. “Five seconds. Then I want you to go from cold to hot.”

“What—”

“Do you have any ice?” Law rustles through the cabinets, knowing that you had at least oneenchanted one to keep produce and meats fresh, and then another to keep things frozen, he just can’t recall which one it is. 

“Yes— top right–”

You shriek when he pops an ice cube rather forcibly into your mouth, and the anxiety that had been trickling down his back pops, as though it never existed to begin with. 

And then you cuff him in the ear while trying not to drop the ice cube from your open mouth.

“Law Water D. Trafalger—!” You screech, and he can’t help it. He starts to laugh, dodging your clumsy swipes at him, easily blocking them. This seems to enrage you even more. “What the hell were you thinking—!?”

“A way to stop your panic attack,” Law laughs, grinning so widely as you pause, as if you’re still processing what he’s said, before scowling at him. “C’mon, give me some credit. I’ve known what your panic attacks look like since we were kids.” 

“You also once shoved a pill bug in Luffy’s nose when he was sleeping.” Your tone is so dry as you turn off the faucet and leave the ice cube in there to melt. “Shanks was pissed,”

“He bit me!”

“He was like, seven!”

“I didn’t bite when I was seven,” Law sulks, leaning against the counter. “I just watched my parents die.”

“.... By the gods above and below, you’re still such an ass,” You mumble, bracing yourself against the counter, turned away from him. But he can still see the little smile on your face. Good, he’s distracting you. Forcing you not to think about whatever had upset you so much. 

The mushrooms catch his eye again. Lion’s Bane. He’d always needed more of that— it helped him to sleep when he’d first moved to the southern continent when the pain of the curse had really started to kick in. Before that, he’d spent most of his nights passing out from exhaustion when he finally couldn’t take it anymore, and asked Doflamingo if there was anything that could help him. Anything. 

And, of course, there was. But it came with a price. Everything that was given to him came with a price: another tight wire coiled around his neck to keep him under control. 

“Hey— these look good,” Law plucks one of the thin slices from the drying rack, carefully examining it. “You really have gotten better. With your earthen magic, I mean.”

The anxiety immediately comes back, and it nearly knocks Law over. Okay– one question answered, but now another presented itself to him. Why were you so anxious over the Lion’s Bane? These were perfect— he wasn’t joking about that. You were one of the best apothecaries he’d ever worked with. Yet your anxiety said otherwise. It was making him feel nauseous. 

“No, they’re terrible,” You sound so certain. So utterly devastated. “I wasn’t as fast with drying them, which means they won’t be as effective when powdered.”

“That’s… a thing that happens?” Law puts the mushroom back down. “How much does it affect it?” 

“It takes five and a half minutes longer to kick in,” You mumble, and he hates how tears are threatening to spill over onto your cheeks— 

But he laughs. And you look utterly startled. 

“Then they’re just fine for doctors,” Law does mean to, but he takes your hands. They’re clammy and shaky, and he worries about your circulation for a brief second before he snaps back into gear. “I promise. How many minutes do yours normally take to kick in?”

“Ten minutes,” you whisper, still with tears threatening to spill, “They’re gonna take fifteen and a half—” You stop speaking when you notice how baffled he looks. “What?”

“Your Lion’s Bane powder. It only takes fifteen and a half minutes?”

“Ten normally,” you pull your hands away from his and start to wring them nervously. “Why?”

“They take about forty minutes on average. From every other apothecary I’ve gotten them from. How— what are you doing to them? Whatever you’re doing to them, you’re making them so much more effective,” Law looks at one on the drying rack, then at you, and then back at the drying rack, snapping one up as he makes his way over to the couch. “Time me. I— I need to test this, this is remarkable if you’re right—“

“You shouldn’t eat an entire dried slice—“You make a grab for his hand, but he’s already dangling it above his mouth and drops it in, chewing and then swallowing quickly. He looks at you, and suddenly, you’re both fifteen and seventeen again. “Oh my fucking Gods, Law, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Are you timing it?” He grins at you, and you have half a mind to have Gertrude smack him in the back of the head or reach down his throat to pull it from his throat.

“What— no— I should be shoving charcoal down your throat right now—“

“Well, there goes the experiment!” Law slumps onto the couch. “Where are you even getting them from, I can already feel the effects— yes, slight blurriness around edges of my vision, slowed reaction time,” he adds when you pitch a pillow at him, and he doesn’t even dodge, letting it hit him square in the face, pulling it to his chest. “This is remarkable!”

“They’re just in the woods outside the city wall! It’s where my family’s been getting them from for centuries—“

“You need to show me.”

“Excuse me?”

“These could be…” he yawns and blinks sleepily, “…a huge breakthrough for… for chronic insomnia…”

Law is slumped against the wall before he can even finish his sentence, drooling onto his tunic as you watch him. There’s gentle shuffling behind you as Gertrude comes to set a leaf on your shoulder. You pat their leaf gently and plop down onto the opposite side of the couch, rubbing your forehead. Gertrude wordlessly starts to get you a glass of water while rifling through the cabinet to find the charcoal you’d mentioned when Law first ate the mushroom. “Thank you,” you mumble, taking the charcoal from the plant, along with a glass of water. The charcoal is already crushed, meant for emergencies with your customers. In this case, just for your idiot of a childhood friend and now husband. Law snores as you mix the powdered charcoal with the water and doesn’t even flinch as you pour it into his mouth, tilting up his throat and having him swallow, keeping his head tilted forward so he doesn’t choke. It’ll be a bit late to help him wake up, but you just sigh, leaning back against the couch. Gertrude brings you a cup of milk tea, gently patting your head with one of their leaves before going back to being nestled around the top of the cabinets.

Your eyes close softly after you finish the cup of tea, still caked in mud from your four-hour hike through the woods to get to the lion’s bane.

When you wake up, Law is looming over you. You do the natural thing and scream, kicking him immediately in the place you’ve learned is the weakness of most men, regardless of if they were born as one or not. You kick him straight in the balls, watching as he topples nearly instantly, clutching his groin while holding in several groans as he bites his lower lip.

Gertrude is laughing, the little shit. They’re laughing, and you’ve just kicked Law in a very sensitive area. Rustling their leaves from the top of the cabinets until you shoot them a stern glare. 

“G’mornin,” Law’s voice is several pitches higher. Still holding his crotch and looking at you with a very shocked expression. “That hurt.”

“Why were you hovering over me,” you steady your breathing. You still have your leg outstretched to kick. Your hands brace on the couch. “Like a fucking weirdo?”

“You’re getting mud on the couch.”

Your eye twitches. And you stand, even when you want to sit back down and rub mud into the fabric just to spite him. But you know you’ll be more upset in the end if you do end up doing that. The mud feels so wrong against your skin when you’re in your casual wear. It would stick to your skin all day, even if you’d washed it away.

“It’s my couch.”

“Our couch.”

“Fuck off, you literally ruined my day yesterday,” Your voice is venomous, and he seems shocked by the anger. 

“How?”

“You— ugh— you wouldn’t get it,” 

Because he probably wouldn’t. You’d tried to talk to your parents about it, especially when they still worked with you. You liked things done a certain way. There was always a proper way to do things and a certain place to do it all. When trying to tell your mother that, while she was turning the orange roots of a fire bush into a paste, she just quirked an eyebrow at you and told you, albeit lovingly, to get over yourself and that any place in the shop was the right place to work, so long as it was clean. She didn’t understand that while it may be that way for her, you liked your rhythms. The specificity. It had taken years to develop these routines and patterns for harvesting and processing all of your medicines. Along with finding the perfect materials to label and write your detailed notes. 

Kizaru had somewhat understood. But he also was in a very different profession than yours. Yet he understood nonetheless.

“Why not?”

Why not? Because he would likely tell you to get over it like your mother had and would make you work out of your comfort zone. Sometimes, it helped. Other times, it made it worse. She hadn’t meant anything by it. She just didn’t understand.

“Because— because I’m weird about my shit, and I don’t like it when people use it,” You blurt out, “Like my paper! That paper is resistant to most degrading compounds, so it’s safe to not only label but use as a packaging thing, and I really, really hate when people sit in my stool because it’s my stool and—“

“Calm.” You feel a wave of ease roll over you, with Law pressing his thumb to the center of your forehead. 

You feel like the world is moving much slower. Or your brain is. The prickling under your skin is gone. “I do actually understand that,” Law says, pulling his hand away from your forehead and kneeling so he can look you in the eyes. His hands are warm, cupping your face, making sure you’re looking at him. “And I’m sorry I invaded your space like that. You’d been gone for two hours already, so I figured it would be alright if I opened my clinic down there.” “It takes me five hours to get the lion’s bane, and then I dry it downstairs. That’s how I’ve always done it.”

He hates how tired you look. How soft your voice is. He knows exactly why you’re like this, too. You’d always had… peculiarities about doing things your way. It’d make you cry if you couldn’t do them the way you’d always wanted to do them, sending you into a quivering mess. Your mother had accidentally triggered one of these when she’d been drying out thunder root and had nearly panicked when you couldn’t voice why you were so upset. 

“I didn’t know. But I won’t do it there, or at that time, again. Okay?” Law pulls his hands away, and he thinks he’s imagined the way you almost chase after his touch. “... do you normally panic when things like that happen? It… hasn’t changed?” “Yeah,” you pull your knees to your chest. “I think. It’s just been piling on. All the stuff from the past three weeks.” Law nods, rocking back on his heels. 

Just the two of you. Law on the floor, you on the couch, both of you with your knees to your chests, looking at each other. It’s painfully familiar and foreign at the same time. 

“...I never apologized. For….” “Don’t,” Your voice quivers. The fight and anger are gone. You just sound defeated. And he can feel the weight of the sorrow on his soul as you tuck your head into your arms, hiding away your face. “Please.”

The sorrow gives way to fear. Of the wetness of mud caked on your skin, slinging to your hair and eyelashes. How it weighed down your clothes, your skin, your hair. How cold you’d felt as you trudged back to your home. 

You hate mud. Yet you’re still in the mud-caked clothes from your hike to forage for mushrooms yesterday. “Alright.” Law chokes, unable to handle just how heavy everything feels from your side of the bond, “Alright.”

You don’t know how to feel when there is an unfamiliar twinge of guilt and longing that is not your own. The door down the hall shuts as Law shelters himself away in his room. And you just cry into your arms, your tears turning the dried dirt on your sleeves to mud again. 

[toxicanonymity]

Shooting Practice

1600 words, raider!Joel x f!reader

mood board by @milla-frenchy

A/N: FLASHBACK TO BEFORE YOU ESCAPE.. This isn't what I was working on 🚬🤡. WARNINGS: I8+ inner conflict, dubcon p in V (captivity), angst. plz suspend disbelief about shooting, etc. Raider Joel Master List, His trailer

FLASHBACK / IMAGINE

Between "Stash House" and "Failed Escape. "

Joel leaves you in his trailer sometimes if he isn't taking you on a raid. His trailer is nice compared to the stash house. Especially because his men aren't there, but it's also a little cleaner. You sense he’s a practical man. He doesn’t have things he doesn't need, aside from whiskey. He could sleep on the ground with nothing. The fact that his bed has sheets and a blanket–no, the fact that he even has a bed and lets you sleep in it–feels like a luxury. He doesn't just let you sleep in it. He holds you. It feels more protective than affectionate but you feel safe.

Joel only uses the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. When you come in the front door, you enter into the eating area, and turn left for the bathroom and bedroom. But if you turn to the right, there’s more. It’s a small galley kitchen. There’s a pantry full of ammunition and cabinets to your right, a utility closet, a closet, and then a room you’ve never seen Joel use.

In the living room, the carpet is scratched through in some places. It’s dusty. There’s an old forlorn sofa. The roof leaks on that end of the trailer. There’s a giant spot on the thin, blue, speckled carpet.The carpet is full of stains with various items scattered around. A dust buster. Two empty pet bowls in the corner, covered in cobwebs. There’s a TV/VCR combo and a radio. There are shelves with warped and faded books.

The first time you notice the children’s books, it makes your stomach turn. You ask Joel who used to live there. Hell if he knows, it was empty, the whole trailer park was. Most of the trailers are gutted, their insides destroyed by a fire. This one had been far enough away. You try not to think too much about who used to live there. You try spending time in the living room and it feels like your own space, but it's also spooky.

Joel has one of his men keeping an eye on you from down the hill, but it's for protection--to stop any of his men from going up there. You're allowed to go outside. When you have an opportunity, you explore the immediate area around the trailer– the top of the hill, and the woods. There isn’t much to see, and you don’t go far, afraid he’ll come back and think you’re trying to escape.

When you're hungry one afternoon, you try to forage for mushrooms in the woods. You find a collapsed, faded tent with a lump under it. Your gut tells you it’s a body. The next day, it’s in the same spot. You’re probably right. Joel always says it’s too dangerous, you shouldn’t go in the woods, and now you know why.

----------

One day, you’re feeling particularly restless, but you stay inside. When Joel gets home, he grabs ammunition from the pantry and is about to do target practice outside. You overhear him shooting when he does it.

“Can I watch,” you ask.

He glances at you skeptically, then mutters “yeah okay.”

You walk around back with him, the opposite side of the stash house, to the opposite ridge of the hill, facing the trailer park, with the woods on your left. There are shells of abandoned cars scattered behind the trailers.

The two trailers you’re looking at are marked up with spray paint, x’s, o’s, stick figures. One of the stick figures has a gaping hole in the head and smaller holes around it.

Joel sets up his rifle and gets down on his stomach, which gives you butterflies to watch. His triceps flex as he gets into position and his shapely lower body holds an interesting pose as he peers into the sight of his gun. He takes a shot and you don’t see where it goes.

“What’d you hit?”

Joel glances at you. “Trailer”

“Where?”

“See that guy with the hole in his head? went through that.”

You settle in to watch, legs folded to the side, fingers exploring a clover patch while he shoots. You pluck the little white flowers and consider making a crown out of them, but you would feel silly in front of Joel. You tear them to pieces instead with a lump in your throat.

Joel takes a few more shots, then asks, “wanna see?”

He scoots over and you swallow your emotions. You get on your stomach next to him. When you peer through the sight, you can see right through the trailer to the next one where he’s shot a large hole in the middle of an X. “wow,” you marvel. “all the way through?”

“yep”

“you’re really good at that.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Wouldn’t keep ya if I wasn’t. Someone’s gotta keep ya safe, sweet pea.”

You nod and give a small smile.At this point, you’re still unsure where you’re better off.

You get out of his way. He takes a couple more shots while you pensively look for four-leaf clovers.

There’s nothing waiting for you back home, but sometimes, the way Joel plucked you out of your life doesn’t sit right. You didn't get to choose.

—------

Joel lets you watch him most days when he does target practice, and one day he asks if you wanna try.

"Look, uh, you don't need to be usin' a gun like this okay?"

"yeah, I know."

"but if ya wanna try it, right here with me. . .I can show ya."

"really?" He showed you his pistol before but didn't offer you could shoot it.

Joel nods for you to come over. You've shot a pistol before, in your old life, but never a long gun. You lay on your stomach, trying to emulate his stance. He moves your legs into position for you and you can feel the air on your inner thighs as your dress bunches up near your hip on your right side.

Joel cages you to the ground with his body, laying his chest flat against your back. He puts your hands on the gun and keeps his hands over yours. “You’re gonna wanna look right here.” He points at the sight then returns the hand to yours. “And hold the gun real steady. It’s gonna jump back at ya.”

“Okay.”

“Ready? I'll squeeze it the first time”

“Yeah.”

He squeezes the trigger and his arm muscles flex against you as he fires. It goes straight through the hole to the x. With Joel holding it steady, it doesn't jump back. The next time, he lets you pull the trigger while he holds the gun steady. When he shifts his weight in between shots, you can feel him getting hard. Each time, he puts less and less of his strength into it until he thinks you’re ready to do it on your own. He gets up off you and watches.

You line up the shot and take it. The recoil startles you even though you knew it was coming. The bullet pings a blank spot on the trailer next to the stick figure’s neck. You’re disappointed but Joel says “Good girl, look at that.”

-------

He takes the gun from you and puts it aside. Then he cages you to the ground again. He lowers his hips and you feel the shape of his stiff cock through his thin jeans. “my gun looks good on ya,” he murmurs.

You’re still up on your elbows. He put his weight on one of his forearms and reaches his other hand under your arm to cup your breast. He rolls his hips into you and gropes you. You’re getting wet. He does it once more, and you sigh.

"Not here," he says. "too exposed."

He begins to push himself off, and you feel the cool air against your damp panties as he sits back on his knees between your legs. He mutters, “fuck" and defies himself by reaching between your legs. He slips a finger under the cotton and when he feels how wet you are, he inhales sharply then mumbles, “gotta be quick.” When you hear his zipper, a wave of arousal hits you.

He hovers over you resting on his forearm again. "relax, sweet pea." You put your arms down and rest your head on top of them. "want it here, right?" He presses on the damp spot.

"Yeah"

He pushes your panties to the side and nudges his tip into place. You're wet but not quite wet enough. He spits on his hand and adds saliva to his tip before returning it between your legs.

He lines himself up and shoves into you, his girth splitting you in two. Your body rushes to catch up but he doesn't allow much time to adjust. He slowly brings his cock back, then slams in with a grunt. Then he goes at a jackhammer pace, breathing vocally and railing into you until he moans "ohh, ah–" and slows his hips.

He plunges to the hilt and sighs in relief as he fills you with his cum. You whimper on the edge, almost there yourself, but you don't know how he'll react if you touch yourself, so you don't.

------

Maybe you'll have a moment to yourself later. Or maybe--you catch yourself wondering--maybe, he'll fuck you later and take his time. You shame yourself for the thought.

There's no mistaking what your body wants. It's always wanted him, but there's something that scares you now. You're beginning to fear it's not just your body anymore.

-----

Thank you for reading

she's afraid her desire/acceptance isn't just physical anymore

Next would be Failed Escape

the last line:

she's afraid her body belongs to him and not just herself

[poproccks]

John Dory Headcannons!

★ Glove is a compression glove for an old injury; a major burn scar that lines his fingers, palm, and paw pads on his left hand. (Inspired by @teaOwOstache’s comic – I am currently writing a one-shot for them based on their amazing comic.)

★ Has about an inch of white hair from the sheer power of Crimp’s vacuum. I, personally, believe that the vacuum’s power accelerated the talent-leaching tremendously and caused physical effects to show sooner. (Also shown on Bruce and Clay)

★ Various scars from his years of camping, foraging, cooking, hunting, and other things related to the nomad life.

★ He is the third tallest of his brothers, being almost the same height as Bruce. Second shortest of Brozone.

★ He was left-handed before the burn incident – and had to reteach himself how to write with his right hand instead since his left hand shakes too badly to write properly now. His handwriting, while improved, still isn't as good as it used to be.

★ Has nightmares occasionally like Branch. I like to imagine they bond slightly over that fact once they do get closer – obviously, it's still nothing like Branch’s and Floyd's relationship.

★ Building off the last point, JD tries not to feel too bitter about the close relationship they have. He realizes that the fractured relationships he has with all of his brothers are his own doing. He’s doing his best to get to know them all now and learn about their interests and hobbies. JD still walks on eggshells around them all about 60% of the time after a few more major blow ups between them. He is John Dory, however, so he still crosses lines many times by accident.

★ Thickest and fluffiest tail of Brozone (more of a general HC but, tail hair/fur can move like Troll head hair/fur.)

★ Very active, and regularly takes walks, runs, etc around Pop Village to keep up his fitness.

★ Found Rhonda when he was in his early 20’s and she was a much smaller bug bus. (Inspired by @ohposhers) She grew rather quickly after that and they became inseparable. John Dory handles all of her repairs and anything to do with her healthcare. He becomes very anxious when he has to pass that responsibility to anyone else. Branch took care of an ailing Rhonda once because he was the only one in the village with the needed materials and ingredients for the medicine. (“Who's crazy now? Me. Crazy prepared,) The dull-toned troll basically had to beat John off with a stick to get him to listen/let him help the poor bus, basically like a Helicopter parent. I genuinely believe without her, John Dory would absolutely crumble. Troll dust.

★ Stay’s in Branch’s bunker the most of the four others, besides Floyd who decided to move to Pop Village. When he’s feeling especially bad or wants to be alone, he will still retreat into Rhonda. She is basically an oversized security blanket.

★ Smells like either dust, fresh dirt, or rain. Definitely smells like something naturey. Branch smells like things similar, but it’s noticeably different.

★ Usually ALWAYS has something stuck in his hair or tail, no matter how small. Dust bunnies from exploring or helping clean, leaves, branches (ha), and other miscellaneous things.

★ Usually has the following in his hair pocket dimension; 2-3 bandaids, an extra glove, chapstick that he always loses, granola bars, and a small thing of water; just in case. Oh, and treats for Rhonda.

★ Carries an old family photo of his brothers and Grandma Rosiepuff from right after Branch hatched. His parents were also in it, but have long been torn out.

★ His goggles, past and present, were from his father (Also inspired by @teaOwOstache) and so he takes begrudgingly good and meticulous care of them.

★ Definitely a victim of parentification/older sibling syndrome. (I’m not projecting, you are.)

★ The order of brothers he bonds or reconnects with the easiest to hardest; Floyd, Bruce, Clay, Branch.

★ Suffers from aches and pains when it's cold or rainy out. He refuses to admit it is because of age.

★ Self soothes by pulling at his jacket, running his fingers along the zipper teeth, or adjusting his goggles when anxious.

★ If he doesn’t want to make eye contact or is crying or about to, he’ll pull his goggles on. It’s easier to hide than to explain. He gets better about talking about it but emotions are always a sore subject and difficult for him.

★ Like most Trolls, John Dory can hiss, growl, and purr.

★ Dark blue paw pads, with blunt nails with chipped polish.

★ When he went back to the troll tree pod, after mourning what could have been, he collected mementos of his brothers and his grandma; Branch’s old baby blanket, Floyd’s old plushie, Bruce’s old hoodie, One of Clay’s old books and a blacket Rosiepuff knitted long ago. They’re hidden in a box on Rhonda.

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Sad Poems but I Choose to Interpret Them as Happy

Jade Leech x Reader

“I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them . . . . I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp . . . I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and all the secrets have gone gasping into the world.” -Excerpt from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket

Jade is not as fickle as his brother, but he too is guilty of interests that come and go like the wind. There are some that stay, like hiking, foraging, and photography; but there are far more that he drops as soon as he’s figured them out. More often than not, his love is not long-lasting.

He has long accepted that any romantic relationship he finds himself in would have a very slim chance of being normal. Healthy. No, his love will likely destroy his partner, whether it is because of obsession or of fleeting interest. He thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to experience it. It would be interesting, a deviation from his norm.

You’re his target, but only because you made such a fascinating proposition. When you’re bored of me, tell me immediately, and we can break up with no hard feelings. Were you such a pragmatic person? He hadn’t noticed before. It spurs him on to know more, to learn everything about you. And once he does, once every single secret you could possibly hide is laid bare before him, he’ll lose interest like he always does and drop you like a bad habit.

So he does. Your favourite food. Colour. Season. The basic things, until they get more specific. The way you do your hair in the mornings. The recipes you favour and the ratio of their ingredients. Your reactions to his occasional unhinged comment. The shows that you laugh or cry at. The ones you think are mediocre. He files them all away in his memory, picking you apart like you’re a subject to study. That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Mild interest. Once he finds out everything, he’ll grow bored and leave.

Days turn to months turn to a year. Has so much time really passed? The secrets you hold have dwindled in number. He knows you inside out, top to bottom, soul to body. There’s only one thing left that he doesn’t know.

You often tease him, asking why he won’t bring you to the Coral Sea. He always gives some shoddy excuse or the other. He isn’t so sure, himself. There’s no real reason to stall. The ice floes have retreated. His parents would be delighted. He would finally know how you’d act in his hometown, in the dark, deep sea that is so different from your home, and with that, he would finally drop you. There will be nothing new.

Unfortunately, I find myself quite busy recently. Perhaps next month. When next month comes around, he pushes it another thirty days. Then another. He was never one to procrastinate, so why now? This is far from efficient. Was he such a cowardly person? He hadn’t known before. He needs to get it done so that he will no longer have a reason to keep you by his side—

Ah. That is the issue, isn’t it?

He doesn’t know how long he’d been in love. All he knows is that he can’t get bored anymore, even if the smile you give him is the same, even if your laughter that warms his chest is unchanging, even if he brings you home. All he knows is that as much as he thought his love would be destructive, he treasures your comfort and happiness too much to think about hurting you anymore. The deadline no longer lies where your last secret is. Forever, until the seas dry up, until he breaths his last gasp—he will love you forever.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi! I was talking to some friends at work about possibly, some time in the future starting an RPG group with them. I asked what kind game they wanted and they asked for a game based on food and puzzles, influenced by currently popular media.

I’m not familiar with a game that is centered around both puzzles AND food. Can you offer any suggestions?

Thanks!

THEME: Food and Puzzles!

Hello friend, so I have a Dungeon Meshi recommendation post that was very poorly tagged, but I’ve fixed it now!

Not everything in this post is beginner friendly, but I’ve talked about these kinds of games a lot before, so I definitely recommend checking out the other links I have in this list, especially Cook & Hero and Wilderfeast. Now, on to the recommendations!

FOODIE’S, by Sam Bullock.

The world has ended. Only psychotic people are left limping through the devastation, trying to scrape by on whatever prepackaged and shelf stable food they can find picking through the wreckage. You are sick to death of eating this shit. You are a Foodie, and your tastes will be satisfied even if it kills you (and it probably will).

Become crazy wasteland chefs willing to fight and die for their next insane culinary creation. Kill raiders, hunt radfauna and escape the endless cycle of mediocre food.

This is a game that’s meant to be as radioactive and shocking as the apocalypse it’s set in. Use whatever you can around you to cook horrifying meals in an effort to make something more than edible. The game uses a system that adds and subtracts dice from your pool depending on traits that you (and your food) might have that make things slightly easier to do or less appealing to cook with. If you want a game that’s stomach-churning but only a few pages to read, maybe check out Foodie’s.

Forager’s Feast, by FUNONEGames.

Your old adventuring group retired, but you couldn't keep yourselves out of the action. And so, you opened a fine-dining establishment where you serve only the finest monster, locally caught and immaculately presented.

Each week after serving your exclusive clientele, you sit down to eat from the menu and tell tales.  Before long, reliving current and past adventures has you sharing deeply with your comrades.  

Roll on a series of d12 roll tables to determine what kind of adventurer you were, and what your role is within the restaurant that the group of you run together. Players take turns selecting a dish from the provided menu, and telling a story about how the group found the related monsters, the process of putting the dish together, and what heavy price they had to pay: an experience from their adventure that left a mark on who they are as a person.

Forager’s Feast is definitely the least focused on stats and mechanics, and more focused on storytelling happening within turns. You are provided with prompts and then asked to jump right in - great for groups who are really interested in storytelling, and much less focused on things like character abilities or hit points.

No Picnics in the Dungeon!, by Biscuit Fund Games.

Classic adventuring through megadungeons and catacombs distilled down to an easy-to-follow recipe: the comfort food of dungeon crawlers! 

Built on the robust Powered By the Apocalypse engine, No Picnics in the Dungeon! is an accessible, rewarding dungeon-crawling experience that’s easy to run and even easier to play. Create an adventuring party in minutes and descend through dungeons requiring a minimum of preparation. Find rare ingredients from the monsters you battle and the flora you find, and cobble them together into beneficial potions or hearty meals. Track down rare Curios, negotiate with the dungeon’s denizens, and come up with a recipe for a fantastic adventure.

The dungeons hide many secrets and many more delicacies within their walls for you and your friends to discover. Ah, dungeon picnics… there's truly nothing like them.

Combine your class and background to put together an adventurer right out of Dungeon Meshi. Powered by the Apocalypse games are very different from what you may expect in D&D, but I think they can be easier to learn because each character works similarly, and doing things is boiled down into moves, which typically involve rolling 2d6 and interpreting the results as either success, failure, or mixed. If you want to learn more about the PbtA school of games, you can check out my system overview, as well this advice on resources when learning how to play.

Death Cap Sauté, by Junk Food Games.

It’s the year 23XX and our world is now The Wasteland. The legendary, reclusive Shroomp Lord is hosting a new cooking competition and your restaurant has received an invitation! Can you survive through the challenges and cook your way to the top?

Death Cap Sauté is a GM-less TTRPG and dice game for 2 to 5 players and is meant to be played in a single session. Each player takes the role of 3 culinary team members representing their restaurant that has entered a deadly cooking competition. Make the best dishes and impress the judges to earn Shroomps. The restaurant with the most Shroomps at the end wins! 

Because Death Cap Sauté is GM-less, it requires everyone around the table to have some understanding of the rules; which means you could teach it as if you were teaching a board-game. The pdf includes a bunch of roll-tables for the competition, as well as hazards that show up in your attempts to make the best dish at the competition. Your characters each have mutations that lend them special powers, allowing you to do things like add or subtract values to your dice, or re-roll certain dice. This is also designed to be a one-shot, so if you want a goofy game that is low-commitment, this might be the game for you!

Delicious in Torchbearer, by Games by Corey.

Delicious in Torchbearer is a Delicious in Dungeon inspired supplement that adds a variety of cooking centred options to Torchbearer 2E. Ideally meant for use at character creation, these rules extend and increase the focus on cooking in the game.

This game is meant to be an add-on for Torchbearer, so I’d only recommend it for your first group if you really want to get up to your neck in the amount of game that’s here. Torchbearer uses a system called Burning Wheel, and much of its mechanics involve making tough decisions regarding your resources, in the hopes that you will be able to outlast your enemies. If you want puzzles, this game can definitely provide them; many of your choices will require your characters to think carefully about their resources and the best way to go about solving problems. Character progression is slow and painstaking; perfect for groups that are in it for the long haul, but for your first game, maybe not so much.

You might also want to check out…

The Laughing Kobold, by therabidbanana.

Bug Dish: Amouse Bouche, by Ryan Khan.

Spirited Cafe, by A Couple of Drakes.

Stewpot: Tales From A Fantasy Tavern, by Takuma Okada.

Consuming A God Recommendations

My Monster Recycling Rec Post

[adrianasunderworld]

More Twst x Stardew things

The Royal Sword Corporation opened one of their stores in town years ago. Crowley hates it. He hates the manger, Ambrose, who wants him to sell the community center so they can open another Royal Sword Business in town.

Che'nya works at Royal Sword Mart. Neige actually got his big break from Royal Sword. He got cast in a commercial for it, and it did so well that he's the face of a whole ad campaign now. Vil is angry and jealous because he also auditioned for that role and Neige got picked over him.

Vil still acts and models, but it's on a much smaller scale compared to Neige. Like he gets hired a lot to do ads and commercials for businesses in town, and in all the neighboring towns, to the point he's kind of a local celebrity in the area. He keeps visiting the city to audition for theater, but so far nothing. He ideally would like to move to the city to pursue bigger roles, but it's just not in the cards now.

The witch that turns your eggs into void eggs at night is Malleus grandma. He gets embarrassed, and has tried convincing her to get a different hobby, to no avail.

Fellow and Giddel are event characters. They get hired to work at the county fair during the fall, and sometimes stop by on the Night Market. There's a quest where you can befriend them so they can move into town, and Giddel can join the other kids on their lessons.

Leonas family is very well off. After his father passed while Leona was still a minor, Falena took custody of him, and he still lives with Falena and his wife, Asha. The Kingscholars were successful in their careers and had plenty of money. Like the farmer, they wanted a change of pace from city life and bought a nice inn just outside of town. Falena runs the actual business while Asha still works as a lawyer. Leona is taking online courses while working at the inn. Ruggie also works there and often has to keep Leona on track.

Ace is a carpenter, and was like Robin, the first person in town to greet you and show you to Ramshackle Farm. And like Robin, he also called your grandpa's house crusty. He also has beef with your cat, Grim. Everytime he comes by to work on something, they have a stare off.

Jade is still interested in foraging, and often gives helpful tips, like what is in season and where to find it. His favorite gifts are any mushrooms.

The mermaid who does a show at the Night Market is Rielle.

Ortho, Najma, and Cheka are like the Jas and Vincent in town. They're the local kids you always see running around, along with everyone else's little siblings, like Jack's brother and sister.

Since there's more than two kids in town in this au, there is an actual school house in the area. It's right next to or is connected to the library, and Clara is the local teacher. Trein helps her out by doing the history lessons. Clara will give the older kids their lessons in the morning before doing their more independent study time and class work in the afternoon while she teaches the little ones. Trein usually keeps an eye on the older kids while they work in the library. It's hard though, Lucius keeps demanding their attention when they're supposed to be doing homework.

Ramshackle is still haunted. There's ghost all over the property, and they mostly show up at night. But they will sometime show up indoors, like in the house, sheds, and greenhouse.

If you marry Leona, he will nap in the greenhouse.

If you marry Deuce, he will work on his bike outside.

If you marry Vil, his post marriage heart event is him going away to work after taking a bigger role. Kinda like Elliot going on his book tour.

If you marry Cater, he will post about living on a farm. He will absolutely make vlog type videos going "My day in the life of a stay at home farm husband."

@mangacupcake @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

[grison-in-space]

Hey! Not trying to keep an annoying conversation going but I wanted to say I super appreciate your rebuttal on the ARA stuff, it was a really good clear summary. Particularly glad you brought up the "nothing with us without us" thing because that tendency in ARA circles to treat animal liberation as the Same Thing as liberating marginalised humans, who can speak for them-fucking-selves, is so upsetting and overtly dehumanising and it's really valuable to see that pointed out. It's also so connected to the move towards tankie or fascist rhetoric, because it so strongly relies on a paternalistic view of exploited people as passive recievers of harm and charity. Anyway sorry I'm a bit ill and rambly but I really appreciated the clarity of your takes is what I wanted to say.

No worries, the boundary I wanted to set was more "I'm not interested in repeating that I know full well what ARA ideology is and how that hooks into veganism, and I'm not a captive audience." I'm happy to have conversations, including with people I disagree with; I am not happy to have to repeatedly explain the same thing that has, again, been my consistent experience for nigh on twenty years of interacting with the community. This is not that, so. Thank you for the compliment.

The paternalism is such a huge factor. It reminds me very much of benevolent sexism (as opposed to hostile sexism), and rings all the same alarm bells. It really, really, really reminds me of the way Autism Speaks talks about autistic children and always has.

If animals don't have language (and they largely don't) and if they communicate in ways that might be non-intuituve to a human (and they often do), surely it's incumbent on us as humans to decode the meaning of the signals they are sending in order to understand how to ethically interact with one another. Communication, after all, can happen perfectly well in the absence of language. And yet.

There's also just so little understanding and interest in the reality of what the consequences of "freedom" for animals living in captivity actually are and can be; consider for example Flaco the eagle owl who escaped into NYC, as @why-animals-do-the-thing covered last year. For a species that is notoriously reliant on our social structures and learned skill sets to survive, you'd think we could handle this better. But I see an awful lot of animal rights activists who seem to think that successfully releasing animals into the wild—freeing them from human control—is just a matter of one heartwarming video where the animal steps out of the cage and immediately locks its new job as an independent forager into place. It isn't.

I am also just straight up not convinced that freedom in the sense of being on your own and able to do whatever you want is all that great. I have spent my entire life boldly going where no one has gone before. It kind of sucks, actually. On the other hand, as a neurodivergent person personally I do a lot of structuring my choices with an eye to Past Me pissing off Current Me because I know Future Me will appreciate it. I can devise my own structures to let me successfully do that ... or I can just outsource the enforcing to a third party with opinions, which is something I sometimes need to do badly enough to purchase and train an entire stupid dog about it, because asking other humans to do it is relationally expensive. Sometimes having external structures that keep me from doing dumb things when the impulses get me is good actually.

And I mean, I'm a biologist. I went a little viral here a few years ago for being silly and describing what acacia trees do to try to fight off their greatest enemy: the mighty but terrifying giraffe. I know how plants engage their agency as dramatically and persistently as any animal; they're just sessile, so they do everything without the ability to get up and go. They are, however, no less active or opinionated a participant in the ecological chaos of the world than any other kingdom. To say nothing of fungi! To live is, unless you have chloroplasts, to consume. And even an awful lot of chloroplast-bearing species engage in a little heterotrophy now and again.

So like. Why should I think that eating plants is necessarily any more ethical than eating animals? Why does ARA-driven veganism think that increasingly processed and modified diets that camouflage and hide our connection to our food as part of the natural world that, yes, we also live in? Why do we hide from the complexity and the small grief of life, the shadow of death that has to come for there to be any room to change? One day, I too will die, and something will consume me unless I choose instead to be consumed by fire itself. That's carbon, baby!

[cursedonyx]

Hello, sorry to bother you, but I've had a little brainrot idea for hogwarts legacy for a hot minute, but I don't have the time to sit down and write it. The idea is that mc has a baby or toddler little sibling (male or female), and since they're both orphans, mc has to raise their siblings while in hogwarts and dealing with all the events of the game. And then the absolutely shocked faces and storylines of the people around them seeing mc beat goblins with a baby strapped to their back. Sorry if it's unrealistic, but I had to raise my neice and nephew practically by myself at 15 so I would love to see it happen in game.

Hi, what an interesting concept! I decided to do this Reactions style as it seemed it would be easier to fit in all the characters I could think of – hope you like it!

Asks are open ~ send me anything ✨

Sebastian Sallow: It was certainly a shock to see the new student march through the Great Hall later than everyone else, the rumours already circling about their arrival. Even more surprising was the fact that this fifth-year had a… a baby of all things strapped to their back! Was it theirs? Were they a teenage parent? Was it a cousin, a sibling, or some waif they’d picked up along the way?

Sebastian learns quickly enough the new student’s baby is in fact their sibling, and is always with them. Even in class. And when Professor Hecat suggests they duel, MC doesn’t even think about unstrapping the infant from their shoulders, despite Hecat’s protestations. He’d go easy on them, for the sake of the baby.

That was his mistake. MC proved to be a formidable opponent, kicking his arse seven ways to Sunday without even breaking a sweat as the baby watched curiously from over their shoulder and the rest of the class cheered them on. And as the weeks and months went by, the baby joined them in their adventures, merely shrieking with glee as MC dived and rolled out of the way of goblin attacks and clapping their hands as MC torched inferi, as if it was all some sort of game. Sebastian made sure to be extra careful in protecting MC, for the baby’s sake. Just the baby. Of course it was. It had nothing to do with the fact he admired MC more than perhaps even his own parents.

Ominis Gaunt: Ominis has never liked children, especially babies. They’re noisy, smelly, sticky, and he’s convinced if he holds one, it’ll throw up on him. It takes him a moment or ten to warm up to MC and even longer to warm up to MC’s baby, especially when he catches both of them coming out of the Undercroft, smelling like Confringo. Even so, he reins in his temper as he scolds MC, not wanting to upset the baby and cause a ruckus at this time of night. He can’t help but be concerned for the little one as MC accepts their tongue-lashing with humility and skulks away. Casting Confringo around a child surely isn’t a good idea.

His concern grows when he’s foraging for ingredients along the edge of the Forbidden Forest one day and hears MC and the baby go into the Forest itself, whistling happily as the baby burbles on their shoulders. He follows, wondering if they know how dangerous it is and planning to keep them safe from a distance when a spider attacks. MC dispatches it with ease before he can even aim his wand. He rushes over, intending to scold them again, only to find MC nonchalantly passing the baby a severed spider leg to play with. The baby promptly hits Ominis about the head with it and screams with laughter.

He smiles, and begins to spend more time with the toughest pair of people he thinks he’s ever met.

Garreth Weasley – Potions class is where he has the most fun, even though his experiments tend to cause fires, explosions, extra limbs and the occasional change of hair colour, all of which result in detention. That was until MC showed up to class with their sibling in tow, the little mite grasping handfuls of their hair as they brewed their potions. Damn it all, he’d really wanted to try adding doxy eggs to his brew to see what happened. He couldn’t do that with a baby in the classroom. He didn’t mind singeing his fellow students, that was the risk they all took as wizards and witches around such volatile concoctions, and if he was going to be the best potioneer the world had ever seen, well…

But he couldn’t risk hurting a baby. He loved babies. They were cute and fat with pudgy tummies and made adorable little faces with their great big eyes and drooling mouths, fascinated by everything around them.

So Garreth started behaving. He saved his experiments for outside the classroom, and though it occasionally still landed him in detention, it certainly granted him more free time, and he began to appreciate the finer rules of potion-making, leading his experiments to become more successful as time went by. He changed his cauldron station to one next to MC once Sharp determined he wouldn’t be a health hazard, and got to know them both a little better. He was stunned by all MC had been through, raising such a precious little bean all by themselves. Every time they shared a class, he had a cake or two to share, a bit of homework he’d already written for them, offering to go to Hogsmeade on their behalf to get anything they needed. Maybe one day, if MC was willing, he could be another parental figure in this cute little thing’s life. He’d always wanted a big, happy family.

Leander Prewett – There’s not much Leander really understands, though he tries very hard to pretend otherwise. One of the big things he just doesn’t get are babies. He’s never been around them, and after noticing MC has their baby with them all the time, he’s not overly keen on getting too involved and doing or saying something stupid that would make him look like an idiot.

But one day, the baby has been grizzling all day long, with MC walking them up and down all through the castle, trying to settle them, but the baby’s just not having it. He spots them coming out of the main doors to where he’s trying to get a little flying practice in, and they seem to be making a beeline for him. Merlin, if there was ever a time for someone to grace him with flight skills, it was now. He attempts to kick off from the ground and merely ends up turning head over heels four or five times before tumbling to the ground with a yelp.

Wincing, he looks up, expecting people to be laughing at him. Someone certainly is, the high-pitched, free laughter soaring over their heads. Glowering a little, he stands up and tries to preserve a little of his dignity, turning to see MC beside him, bouncing the baby in their arms. The baby is no longer grizzling, but is laughing helplessly, waving its fat little fists in glee.

MC thanks him earnestly for making her little sibling laugh, and offers to buy him a butterbeer for his trouble. On the way, Leander makes sure whenever the little one looks like it might start crying to take a pratfall or walk into a low-hanging tree branch, grinning as each time makes the baby scream with laughter.

As they talk, he learns about all MC has gone through, and his admiration for them goes through the roof. He makes sure to seek them out daily to fall down the stairs or do a silly dance to get the baby laughing. It makes MC laugh too, and he loves the way they smile when he does it.

Amit Thakkar – Amit steals up to the astronomy tower one evening to get in an extra few hours of stargazing, hoping his diligence to the subject will ingratiate him with the notoriously cold Professor Shah. But when he gets there, he sees MC leaning on the railing, dandling their sibling on their hip, pointing up at the celestial heavens and murmuring some twee nonsense about the twinkly dots. He goes quietly to his telescope, trying not to disturb them, when he overhears MC talk about the stars being the souls of those departed, and how ‘mummy and daddy are up there.’

It just about breaks his heart. He’d read about tragedy, of course, it was a staple in many of his adventure books, but learning that one of his fellow students had suffered something that made him cry when he read about made-up people enduring it, well. He leaves his telescope and moves over, leaning on the railing as well and speaking in a soft voice about the cosmos, pointing out the stars and naming them until MC lays a hand on his arm.

The baby has gone to sleep, soothed by his voice. MC thanks him, telling him the baby has been having trouble sleeping since their parents died, they both have, in fact. The baby stirs, and Amit pulls out one of his favourite books and a blanket, wrapping them both up in it and settling down nearby, reading to them both until they fall asleep.

It becomes a regular thing, and Amit smiles every time he looks up from the pages to see them cuddled up together, holding each other and sound asleep. It's nice to feel useful, and he appreciates being able to do some small thing for them when they’ve already been through so much.

Natsai Onai – While initially anxious about asking for MC’s help in dealing with Rookwood and Harlow, Natsai soon learns how capable MC is from her fellow students. When they go to rescue Highwing, Natsai almost begs her to leave their sibling in the castle, but MC refuses. Not only does the baby seem to understand the danger they are in and keeps quiet, but it seems to actually enjoy it when MC Depulso’s an arrogant Ashwinder off the edge of a tower, chuckling heartily. The baby shrieks with joy as they fly on their rescued Hippogriffs, waving their hands in the air as MC and Natsai whoop and cheer. The baby really feels like a member of the team, even though it didn’t actually do anything, sort of like a mascot.

Natsai’s fears for the baby decrease with every adventure and MC proves time and time again they’re not just a hell of a warrior, but a damn good parental figure too. She delights in the quieter moments they share, often begging MC to let her look after the baby to give MC a much deserved break. Though initially reluctant, MC agrees for a few hours one evening, saying they needs to speak with Sebastian and Ominis. They return, looking a little tired and somewhat stressed (can she blame them after hanging out with a Gaunt?), and happily takes the little one back, thanking Natsai for her help. She lets Natty look after the little one more often, and Natsai teaches them both some nursery rhymes from Matabeleland.

Poppy Sweeting – To Poppy, MC having a baby is no skin off her nose. It's almost like having a pet that’s going to be able to talk one day and clean up its own poop. Bonus! But right now, like all baby beasts, this one is adorable and she takes every moment she can to spend time with MC and their sibling, fussing over them both and insisting she cuts up their dinner for them, even if they’re in different houses.

When Poppy asks MC for help with the poachers, it’s not a decision she’s made lightly. She knows how vulnerable babies are, even baby dragons, and to bring a baby into a poacher den could signal trouble for everyone. MC insists on their sibling coming with them, and Poppy needs the help. Poppy soon learns she didn’t need to worry, watching MC absolutely decimate the poachers without breaking a sweat, the baby on her shoulders waving their own little hand as if they were casting spells as well, going ‘wheeeeeeee’ when MC rolls out of the way of a hex, and burbling happily when the dragoness stares them down.

Poppy makes a point to introduce MC and the little one to some safer beasts, enjoying a cup of tea with MC as they watch the baby roll around with the Poffle of Puffskeins Professor Howin has in the pens by the Beasts classroom. She makes a point to join Natsai when babysitting.

Professor Sharp – While initially concerned about there being a baby in his class (with Garreth, FFS) he soon learns MC is more than capable of being a responsible carer, and his admiration for them grows as he watches them soldier on with classwork, homework, babywork and, if the rumours are to be believed, their rather dangerous extra-curriculars. He makes sure to slip some Soothing Solution into MC’s bag for those difficult nights, and lets the baby chew on his auror badge the few times MC lands detention with him. He won’t give them any leeway to be a cheeky little shit in his classes, baby or no. Besides, it’s nice to watch them grow up.

Professor Garlick – She’s alarmed when MC marches into her class, baby in tow, worried the baby will be eaten by a venomous tentacula or Chinese chomping cabbage, but her concern vanishes when MC proves to have the awareness of five highly-caffeinated people, keeping the baby safe during her classes. She offers to help where she can, and MC gratefully accepts dummies with essence of dittany on them to soothe the baby’s teething.

Professor Black – Most people are convinced he doesn’t even know what a baby is, despite the fact he’s got five children. He’s aloof most of the time, barely paying anyone any attention, least of all MC and the baby. But after a particularly trying day when the baby just wouldn’t settle, MC watches with apprehension as Black strides towards them, scowling. Expecting a scolding (and a detention for the attitude they prepare to give back in return) MC is surprised when Black holds out a tiny plush doll in the shape of a kneazle without a word, then stalks off like he didn’t just give their sibling a teddy.

Professor Fig – Having seen all MC can do, even with a baby on their back at all times, he can’t help but admire them, though he desperately wishes they didn’t have to do so much alone. As such, he takes on the role of not just mentor, but father and grandfather figure to the pair. When things get too tough, he happily encourages MC to take a nap in his office, rocking the baby to sleep as MC snoozes on the sofa, cooking for the three of them and making sure to help MC with their homework. Towards the middle of the year, MC bursts into his office, holding the little one aloft.

“Say it again, baby!” MC cries.

The baby grins, chewing its own pudgy fist. Around a mouthful of their own hand, they speak their first word.

“Fig,” they say.

It’s the proudest moment of his life.