#or when she’s old enough she wants to learn how to play an instrument

[mrspockify]

I feel like I can’t picture Mario learning and playing an instrument, like whenever I imagine him being musical it’s always with him preferring to sing, but then I don’t know how this would translate into my interpretation of mute Mario 💀

[directdogman]

We asked some of the DT cast for stories from earlier in their lives!

Gingi: "Hmmm... That's a tricky one. Well, there was... Uhhh... Okay, no. Not that. Uhhh... Pass."

Randy: "From MY life? Uhhh... Like, from when I was a kid or something? Uhhh... I, uhhh- Oh! Okay, s-so... I think I was about fourteen, right? Uhhh, my father was kinda... Y'see, he'd yell at me sometimes, like, "Randy, why aren't you GOOD at anything! I didn't raise a lazy QUITTER. You're going to find something that you're GOOD at if you're gonna continue living under this roof!" So, uhhh, I had to learn to play an i-instrument, y'know?

Uhhh, I-I think he picked the clarinet for me 'cause my brothers already played guitar and piano, y'know? Uhhh... Then I was trying to practice it at home... a LOT, and he stormed into the room, SNATCHED it from my hands and snapped it. He went off about how I couldn't do anything right, I was a failure of a son, I didn't live up... [Randy clears his throat] Heh... Anyway, I was relieved! I HATED playing that thing! I could never get my fingers in the right places fast enough, y-y'know?"

Karen: "Hmmm... I don't have many stories from when I was in school. I kinda kept to myself. I wasn't noticed a lot. I liked it better that way. But, when I was seventeen, our class was entered into a regional math competition. Basically, we had to solve equations in our spare time, and whoever got the most right answers got a prize. I did a LOT of them. Fifteen hours worth, one week. I was mostly curious to see how I'd place if I really tried for a short burst of time, see how I ranked. But, I kept going... and I ended up ranking in the top 5. Nationally. 

The organizers invited all of us to a ceremony where they handed out prizes. Our parents too. I watched other people from my class get smaller prizes one by one, for participating and when I didn't get one, I figured they'd just forgotten about me. It happens, I wasn't surprised. But, then out of nowhere, they started handing out scholarships to the top 5 entrants. I was one of the five. 

I can't tell you how it felt to be one of them, to be seen. To be recognized for giving it my all. Anyway. My parents weren't there, they arrived an hour after the whole thing ended, after everyone left. I told them about my win. My mother pointed out that the scholarship would've only covered a portion of my full tuition. I asked why they weren't there. She got angry and said I'd texted her the wrong time. I didn't. We went out for dinner after that. My sister seemed proud." 

Oliver: "Oh, man! Uhhh... Where to begin! Y'know, I was a real menace when I was in school! I wanted the world and I wanted it now! Oh! Oh! Okay, so back when I was in high school, we got all this HAM and then... Oh. Actually, y'know what, that story has a crime in it- Not, like, a BAD one, but...

Okay. Uhhh. Something, uhhh- Oh! I've got it. So, I was six years old, right? My mom came to pick me up from school that day, as per usual! The thing is, it was actually my BIRTHDAY! She didn't give me my present that morning, said she'd show me what she had for me as soon as I got home. I was stoked! I knew it had to be something REALLY gnarly or really pathetic for her NOT to want to show it to me right away and there's no way she would've short-changed me! 

So, we got home and there it was. She'd gotten me a SNAKE. I'd been reading books, talking about 'em CONSTANTLY... I didn't think she'd- Uhhh- It's not- Well, it wasn't a typical gift to give a kid like me, y'know? But, she noticed how much I loved them and wanted me to have one. 

Aw, he was the cutest little guy too! A corn snake! So, y'know, I got to hold him all the time and... Aw, I miss that little guy! I called him Mr Slithers when I first got him, but then we started calling him Schlep! Y'know, like Asclepius? The Greek God with the snakes! Aw, I miss that little guy… We didn't always have much, with my dad gone, but she always made sure I knew how much I meant to her."

Norm: "You want a story from MY life? Pardner, I've been around the world, OFF the world, in one end o' a wormhole and out th' the other SIDE. Where would I begin? Well... I worked at NASA for a spell, but I... Ah, t' hell with all that. I was with the Air Force, back in Korea. I 'member... Back when I was still a Corporal, actin'-Sergeant, th' job wasn't JUS' about shootin' down other planes. Sometimes we also handled folks who surrendered on th' ground, y'know? Admittin' POWS, which we traded back fer our own. 

Anyway, we had this one fella, Choe somethin'... You'll have t' forgive me, it's all a lil fuzzy now. He was a conscript, o' course. Jus' wanted to see th' end of the war. 'Cause o' my rank, it was my job t' oversee th' cataloguin' what he had on 'im and t' get him t' sign the completed inventory. The fella had a PPSh-41. Full drum. Doubt he'd ever even fired th' thing... It was MY firs' time holdin' one. Always wondered how they handled. 

I looked at Choe, I looked at my buddy Reggie... Oh. I knew Reggie from all th' way back in Phoenix... He picked up the language better than me... Y'know, they used t' give us candy in our rations. Hershey's Tropical. Haven't seen any on the shelves since the warp, but… Eh. A half-decent candy bar's pretty fillin', good source o' calories, stops yer men from losin' their goddamned minds. Even perfected the recipe fer the climate. Didn't melt like the bars here. Sorry, I'm ramblin' again. 

So, I made Choe an offer, with Reggie's help. We leave the gun offa the form, he gets the candy bar. The, uhhh, gist of what he said t' Reggie was that the gun was o' no use to him now that he'd been captured, but he'd very much like the candy bar. So, we left it off the form and o' course, he signed it. That night, me and Reggie went out, drank a whole bunch o' somaek and fired that thing off 'til we didn't have a single bullet left fer that drum. That night was really somethin'."

God: "Oh, man, have I seen some shit... I mean, hell, I've lived a lot of lives… I know I mightn't look it now, but hey, I had my fair share of jobs, little things for myself to do, friends... But, not anymore. Y'see... Ah. I just had this feelin' set in over time. A realization, I guess you could call it. There was this rot inside me. Every go around, there were these similarities. I'd notice more of 'em each time. I'd know stuff before it happened. I'd know people's thoughts before they'd think 'em... and. It was revolting, what I was doing. Keeping people around me that I knew would outlive me, taking up valuable time, making their lives worse for… Ah, you wouldn't get it.

Anyway, I tried to shove the feelings down for a long time, but sooner or later, I couldn't sleep at night, ignoring what I knew. I was a piece of filth, plain and simple. I made the world worse for being in it, and I couldn't make up for all that time, bein' around people for so long. The only thing I could do to make it up to everyone was to disappear. But, if I just went, people would've missed me. That wasn't right either. They had to know why. So, I went to everyone I knew. Well, anyone who'd care if I left. And I told 'em everything about me. Every bad thing I'd said, done, the things I should've done... What I was, deep down. If I thought of anything I didn't want to say, I said it. With as much detail as I could think up. 

Then, I started walking. I doubt anyone came to look for me. Doesn't really matter now, does it? Heh. I've been wanderin' ever since. You gotta keep your distance from people, y'know? A quick bite and a how-do-ya-do's dandy and all, but any more than that, and you risk getting attached. Or havin' other people get attached to you. Nothin' lasts forever."

Bigfoot: [wistful ape noises]

(It was dark at the foot of the Appalachian mountains. Far above the tapestry of leaves and pine needles, the sky was alight with stars. Distant, yet the dim specks staining the dark expanse above the trees were the only light reaching this place now. A shaggy behemoth sprinted through the foliage at a breakneck pace, knocking any tree unlucky enough to be in its path back with its hefty arms. Never slowing down, never stopping.

Suddenly, a powerful beam shone down from above. Brighter than the moon, glaring like the sun. The giant halted suddenly, locking up as the light hit its lens. It looked up slowly, his gaze trying to meet the light. Barely perceptible amidst the haze, a figure loomed on a branch, its silhouette visible against the sky as the absence of starlight. Its spotlight head flickered as if it was scanning, now the brightest thing against the sky. After a pause, the figure unfurled its wings and gracefully glided to the ground, where it landed. Even against the windless tranquility of the woods, its landing made little sound. The hulking beast didn't stir. He had seen this figure before, always at a distance. Closer each time. Mistakable for the moon against the night sky.

The furred brute thought to flee, but it had seen this figure in flight. He was swift, but it was much swifter. The figure inched gradually closer, its steps slow, deliberate and silent. Slower than it'd had ever moved before. As it stopped right in front of him, its head dimmed, allowing him to see it better. As he studied its slender figure, its head cocked in place, as if scanning him. A dim whir now audible from the bulb. At that moment, the monster felt as if the being was looking into his soul. Its movements were sorrowful and graceful, each movement angled like a bow. It could truly see him.

Slowly, a feathered wing extended towards him, gracefully connecting with the side of his head. The first time he'd felt the contact of another in a quarter of a century. The monster barely shirked, causing her to retract her wing momentarily. As he gazed back towards her, his lens now locked onto the bulb sitting atop the slender body before him, the figure's wing slowly caressed his face. No noises were exchanged, but the beast knew what this touch meant. "You could be happy."

Momentarily remembering who he was, the behemoth retracted. He sighed, his gaze now meeting only the dimly lit leaves at their feet. She too knew what this meant. "There is another." The figure looked down as well, visibly dejected. Not at his rejection, but for fate's cruel acumen. After a silent moment, its wings unfurled and it took flight, disappearing into the branches above them. Unsure of itself, the monster stepped forward, the moon's light glinting between the branches. Regaining its composure, the titan began its sprint again. Never ceasing, never yielding. It would find its family. Even if it had to search every inch of this land.)

Little Billy: "get fucked, narc."

Stabby and Shooty: "Oh, man! Have WE got some stories!" "Lotsa stories! Heh heh heh!" "Y'know, we're kinda bad boys… Hard eggs!" "The hardest! HEH HEH HEH!" "Y'know, we-" "Oh! Oh! Slick! Tell 'em about the time you i-" "…No. Not that one, bro." "What?! It's the most GANGSTER shit either of us h-" "I said DROP IT! OKAY?!" "…" "…" "…" "…" "Sorry, bro…"

Mayor Mingus: "What is this, for a MAGAZINE?! I don't have time for any of this. In case you haven't noticed, I have a CITY to run, and anything I don't do myself WON'T be done correctly. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

("When I was a kid, I used to bring Maw Maw to church. Someone had to. When she got older, she lost much of her sight. Her optical sensors deteriorated and she wouldn't let anyone open up her head to replace them. She never explained why. I was happy to spend time with her, though. Especially since my father never joined us. Like HE'D ever step foot in a church. 

I never believed in any of that malarkey either, to be clear. I don't even think she did, until her later years. Perhaps it comforted her? I guess that's beside the point. After every sermon, we'd go out and get a burger at the Burger Hovel in the mall across the street. Then, we'd go upstairs and she'd try on clothes at the department store. Because of her sight, she couldn't read the tags on her own. She needed me there for that, to know if something would fit. She rarely bought anything. I think she just liked trying them on, being someone else for a little while... It was nice, though. Being useful, helping her do something she couldn't do on her own.")

[gatorbites-imagines]

Sinners Remmick x male reader (preferably poc) where is a singer at the juke joint and Remmick sees him and tries to seduce him lmao. But male reader is low-key insecure of his singing tallent + kind of shy and Remmick finds out and is like "????? what do you mean" because male reader is like so good at music, and Remmick has to uplift him lmao.

you can make thiss smutty if your up to it

Remmick x POC male reader 

Headcanons 

Hate to admit, I dont know much about POC culture in America. I'm European, and we barely even mention America in history class. This also means I don't know a lot about African American culture, especially during the 30s and in the south. 

This means I won't be mentioning a whole lot about the times, cuz I don't know enough about it, and I wouldn't want to be disrespectful. I would love to read about it though, if yall know any good sources. 

Not as smutty as I had hoped, but hope it's good anyways 

You knew the Smokestack twins, as much as anyone around here did. Maybe you even knew them a little more than most, enough to know the truth about their father. 

Music had always saved you when times got tough. It started out as you simply singing to yourself, humming tunes that came from somewhere deep within. Then it became a harmonica that Stack had stolen as a gift. 

From there it advanced further, flutes, a banjo, a guitar, over the years you even learned the piano, and more devilish instruments, if Sammies father had to be believed. 

Music was all you had though, be it during the war you were drafted into it, and when you returned to the state to learn your mother had died, leaving you on your own. You didn't sing much anymore though, in public at least. 

You were still close with Annie after all this time, and you two would sing together at times. There were times she invited you over to sing for the very fact that you seemed to call only the good and wanted spirits. 

Part of you wanted to be mad when Smoke and Stack appeared, dressed as finely as they were and speaking of opening a juke joint of all things. For leaving, and all that. 

Stack had always been able to sweet talk you though, and when Sammie jumped into their truck, you followed, lugging your own guitar with you. It was old and patched in many places, but you loved that thing. 

The party was in full swing, and everything felt so alive. When you and Sammie sang together it felt spiritual, like something you couldn't put into words. It was an otherworldly experience. 

One that left you sweating and your legs shaky. It was easy to stumble over towards where Annie was serving up drinks, to let Sammie embrace all the attention for now. 

You were already known as the guy who could play most instruments, and could sing like his life depended on it, but that was all you could do. And even then, you never felt like it was good enough. 

You had been distracted with your drink and conversation to know what had happened at the door, of the white folk who claimed to hear your singing and had felt compelled to join. 

You hadn't caught how Remmick had craned his neck, trying to look above or around the group blocking his vision, trying to find “that other beautiful voice”, after he had paid attention to Sammie. 

Whatever Smoke saw on his face, he didn't like, and he had been itching to grab for his gun. It made an uncomfortable clammy feeling run down his spine, like it was something he wasn't meant to see. 

When the strangers left, the party returned to what it had been before, for the most part. You were still sweating and woozy, your shirt sticking to your back under the strap of your guitar. 

It was then that you decided that you needed some fresh air, all these people were making you itchy, and everything was starting to be too much. 

You waved at Stack and Mary as you passed them, giving them both a look up and down as if saying “just get on with it you two” as you trotted outside. Cornbread patted you on the back as you passed, as in his words, it had been too long since you let yourself go like that. 

Seeing the three white folks seated out by the front made you slow down though, there was something off about them. You were still far enough away so that you couldn't see Remmick's nostrils flare, or the way his pupils expanded at the sight of you. 

You were always weary when you knew you needed to be, you couldn't play white like Mary could. Somehow you still found yourself waved over, sitting down on the log beside the man you learned was named Remmick. 

“You must've been that other voice we heard all the way out here. You have a real gift” he said, voice almost reverent as he leaned in just a little closer, eyes boring into you in a way that made your hair stand on end. 

“Oh, nah. I'm not that good, it's all Sammie” you laugh, feeling flushed as you look down, hands messing with the strap of your guitar. Compliments always made your skin crawl, it didn't feel like you deserved them. 

“No, it was all you. Compared to him, you? You were like an angel” he exhaled, voice raw and raspy like a church goer who had been praying all day and night, Remmick's hand touching your upper back. 

Joan and Bert melted away into the night, not that you noticed, too busy staring at your feet as Remmick saddled closer, both his hands sliding over your body as he came so close. 

His breath was strangely metallic, it reminded you of the smell of old nails, or how it felt to chew on a fork for too long. “You bewitch me, how do you do it?” was murmured, his voice feeling... more. 

You should have gotten up, yelled, ran back inside the juke joint, anything. Not only were the both of you men, but he was white, it just made no sense. 

But still, Remmick's lips brushed against your neck, a shaky audible groan leaving him as he inhaled you. You couldn't have known that he was also feeling your racing pulse against his lips, and how it made him yearn and ache. 

“Sing for me?” he asked, voice thick like honey as he started kissing down your neck, Remmick's hands pulling your guitar into your own. It was sensual, the way he guided your fingers to the strings, intimate and heady. 

It was almost impossible to form words, this all felt like some kind of wild dream as Remmick's hands so expertly undid your belt and buttons, the Irishman sliding to his knees in front of you. 

Your eyes flicked from his burning look, towards the juke joint not that far away, but even as Remmick kissed at your growing hardness, nobody seemed any wiser. 

“Come on. Please? I'm on my knees beggin you and everything” he rasped, tongue flicking against your wet tip like one would a popsicle. 

All you could get out was a breathless yelp as he swallowed you down whole. Some sick part of your brain reminded you of a time where you saw a snake swallow a rat whole, that was the fervor he gulped you down with. 

Remmick held you there, throat flexing around you as he stared up at you, eyes so intense and unblinking, waiting for you to do as he asked. Sing, give him what he wants and needs so badly. 

Your fingers were shaking as you strummed the strings of your guitar. This was all wrong, this couldn't be real, but Remmick's mouth was so slick and hungry around you as the shaky words left your throat. 

If you had had any past experience, you might have noticed that his tongue was too flexible, or his mouth was too cold. It wasn't icy, but clammy, like waking up with a cold sweat.  

And it was wet, so incredibly sloppy and wet. Hearing and feeling him try to slurp up all his frothy drool around your length as you struggled to form verses and play your tongue was downright demonic. 

It seemed the more you sang, the hungrier he got. If you hadn't been shaking in your boots you might have worried about Remmick choking himself with how he gagged you down, his hands gripping the back of your thighs like a lifeline. 

There was no way the noises you were letting out sounded good, and the clumsy twitching of your fingers ruined any tune you tried, but it lit an unseen fire inside the man sucking the soul out of you, so you kept trying. 

Had you not been sitting down, you would surely have collapsed as you tumbled over the edge, your fingers scrambling at your guitar as your body locked up, a half-formed verse melting into an embarrassingly loud moan. 

But no matter how loud you got, nobody inside or outside the juke joint seemed to notice what you two had been up too, even as Remmick audibly gulped your release down, moaning like it was ambrosia and honey mixed into one. 

You hugged onto your guitar, like a blanket you would hug for comfort, as Remmick pulled back, moving slowly enough that you could feel the tight clenching of his throat a last time. 

“See? Gorgeous. Perfect” he gurgled against your thigh, looking at you the same way a cat looked at a mouse, licking your seed of his spit-soaked lips as he rose to his feet. 

“You just need to see it from my point of view, then you will see how great you are. Hold still for me” he whispered, moving closer until his lips hovered above your neck again. 

“W-whuh?” you get out, head still all steamy and thoughts all jumbled, your soft spit shiny length still hanging out of your slacks, trying to understand what had even just happened. 

You barely felt his lips kiss your neck before he struck, tearing into your sweaty salty neck like a vulture upon a carcass. Your scream as cut off with a gurgle as he pushed you back, pinning you against the ground as he feasted upon you. 

You should have trusted your gut, as much as you loved Smoke and Stack, they always brought trouble. It had never been like this though, being feasted on by a man who had just feasted on you in another way, just to hear you sing. 

A thought passed through your mind as everything was turning dark. Would you still be able to sing after the way Remmick ripped into your neck? But that was a dumb thought, you wouldn't need your voice anymore after you died. Right? 

[senipsenipsenip]

The Pines family sat at the table, quietly eating their breakfast, when Mabel slammed her hands on the table and shouted “KERMIT THE FROG”.

Dipper leapt forward to right his orange juice glass, gathering nearby napkins to sop up the puddle. “What?”

“Kermit the frog! He plays the banjo!”

“Yyyyes?”

Ford raised his hand. “Who’s Kermit the Frog?”

Stan snapped his head up from his plate. “Who’s Kermit the Frog? The Muppets, Pointdexter, you were around for The Muppet Show. They had a movie and everything.”

Ford frowned. “Muppets.”

“Yeah, they’re a riot! There’s this bear whose got some great puns and this pig who really know how to throw a punch. You’d love it, they’ve even got a scientist!”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of children’s television.”

“Children?!”

Dipper stirred his cereal. “I’m just impressed you remember all that. Yesterday you forgot you were married.”

“That’s because The Muppets are forever!” Mabel exclaimed.

“Wait, Stanley you were married?”

“Yep. Twice. Actually, unless I’m forgetting a divorce, I might still be married.”

“You didn’t,” Mabel chirped. “I’d have it on my Romance Chart if you did. You’ve missed a lot of anniversaries.”

“So has he!” Stan argued. “I’m not the only bad husband here!”

Ford spluttered. “Husband?”

Dipper frowned. “I think we’re getting a little too far away from why Mabel screamed Kermit the Frog and knocked my orange juice over.”

Mabel nodded. “Right, so, I was thinking of Mr. McGucket -

“Stanley you have a husband?“

“I was thinking of Mr. McGucket,” Mabel interrupted. “And how he could maybe help around the Shack. And he plays banjo! He could play banjo and people could put money in his lil banjo case like a real musician.”

At the mention of money, Stan leaned forward.

“But like, no one knows banjo music,” Mabel continued. “So I was like, maybe pop hits banjo? But then BOOM! Kermit the Frog! People love that frog. He could play the rainbow song. He’d be a hit!”

“Interesting,” Stan muttered. “Preying on people’s nostalgia to milk them for cash. I love it!”

Ford hummed. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea, Mabel. Activities like playing musical instruments have been proven to help patients with Alzheimers and dementia. Not that Fiddleford’s condition has the same root cause, but it may prove beneficial to memory recovery.”

“Eugh, don’t ruin this for me.”

“If playing an instrument helps with memory loss, maybe Grunkle Stan should learn an instrument,” Dipper suggested.

“Ooo!” Mabel squealed. “What about guitar? Or the piano? OH!” She clutched Stan’s arm with a fervor. “The triangle!”

Ford grimaced. “Maybe not that one.”

“Sorry, kid. I’m not exactly a music guy,” Stan shrugged out of Mabel’s grasp. “Let’s leave that to the professionals.”

Mabel frowned, but let the topic go.

Ford stood from the table. “Well, I happen to be visiting Fiddleford this afternoon. I can broach the topic and see what he thinks.”

Fiddleford, as it turns out, loved the idea. To the surprise of everyone, Fiddleford admitted that he had always wanted to play in a jugband when he was younger, but could never get over his stage fright enough to audition for the local band. Then he went off to college and then…everything else.

“Maybe I zapped away that scared bit enough to play!” he had cackled, knocking at the side of his head with his knuckles.

It was settled. “Fiddlin’ Fridays at the Mystery Shack with Fiddleford McGucket”. Dipper tried to point out the title didn’t make sense since it was a banjo, not a fiddle. Stan argued that “customers are suckers for alliteration”. The set up was just Fiddleford dragging an old rocking chair onto the porch and opening up his banjo case. Mabel had made a large glittery banner, but it was quickly absconded by Fiddleford’s raccoon.

“Tell your wife to give me back my banner!” Mabel had yelled, chasing the raccoon into the bushes.

“Ex-wife,” Fiddleford sighed sadly. “Apparently I was too emotionally available.”

Ford pulled at his hair. “Did everyone get married without telling me?”

“Excuse me?” A voice piped up. Fiddleford and Ford turned to see a little boy standing at the bottom of the porch. He was dressed in hiking clothes that were obviously new. In the distance, a young woman was unstrapping a baby from its seat in an SUV. Obviously city folk coming to the “wilderness” for the first time.

“Are you a real hillbilly?” The boy asked. Suddenly the door slammed open, Mr. Mystery striding through, eyepatch in place.

“Sure is!” Stan grinned. “Our very own genuine hillbilly just waiting to play you a tune! All you gotta do is put some of your mom’s money in his case there.”

The little boy’s eyes widened, turning around to race towards his mother.

“Stanley,” Ford admonished. “Fiddleford isn’t some show monkey to throw money at.”

“During work hours he is.” Stan turned to Fiddleford. “So, did Mabel teach you that song she was so excited about?”

Fiddleford sat frozen, watching the little boy yank at his mothers pants to try and get her attention, the baby beginning to fuss.

“Well…” Fiddleford cleared his throat. “Some good news and bad news fellas.”

Ford furrowed his brows. “What is it?”

“Good news is, my mind ain’t all broken.” Fiddleford hugged his banjo and turned to look up at Ford. “Bad news is I knows it ‘cause I still got stage fright.”

Stan scoffed. “Stage fright? C’mon it’s one kid and a couple o’ city slickers who would probably think you playing three wrong notes and spitting is ‘authentic’.”

“Stanley, be supportive.”

“I am! Look I’ve been at this job forever. All you gotta do is smile and if something goes wrong, you blame a ghost or something. They eat that up.”

Fiddleford shook his head. “But this is music. If’n I mess up music, ‘specially somethin’ they know. Music is real special to people, I can’t spoil it.”

Ford knelt down next to Fiddleford’s chair. “You don’t have to play that song Fiddleford. You don’t have to play at all.”

Fiddleford looked anxiously between Ford and the family. It seemed the little boy had finally gotten his mother’s attention and was excitedly pointing toward the porch.

“I…” Fiddleford shook his head. “I can’t let the little ‘uns down. ‘Specially not those ones.” As he said this, he gestured with his chin towards the other end of the porch where Dipper and Mabel sat bickering in lawn chairs. Mabel had returned from her raccoon chase covered in twigs and holding a surprisingly docile raccoon. Dipper was leaning away from the pair while trying to convince Mabel to stop feeding it gummy worms before it developed a taste for human food and tried breaking into the Shack.

Ford's gaze drifted to the twins. "Alright," he relented. "But you still don't have to play Mabel's song."

Fiddleford bowed his head.

"Yet!" Ford offered. "Not yet. She'll understand I'm sure."

Fiddleford frowned, looking unconvinced.

"Of course not yet!" Stan interjected. "You can't go playing the grand finale right out of the gate! You gotta warm 'em up first, keep 'em wanting more." Stan slapped his hand on Fiddleford's back. "If you give 'em what they want right away, they won't come back! Hold that one off until tomorrow or...uh...next week. Tease it or something."

Stan had started rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand as he spoke, a tell Ford was quick to recognize. It was the same one he did when he would "begrudgingly" let Mabel choose the movie for movie night or let Dipper rope him into another game of Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons. Covering the most vulnerable part of his body while he let his emotions go soft.

Fiddleford seemed to perk up at Stan's words.

"Well," Fiddleford offered. "I do know some proper jugband music. Only, it don't have the same ring to it without a jug."

"We've got a jug!" Mabel cheered from the other side of the porch. It seemed the raccoon argument had reached enough of a truce that the twins were once again paying attention to the concert. "I used to keep pond water in it, it's in the kitchen!" She hopped off of her chair, lugging the racoon along with her like it was a rather expensive lap cat.

Dipper followed her. "Why did you have a jug of pond water?"

"Because, dummy, if I met a frog prince he would need something in the shack to remind him of home."

"Aren't you supposed to turn him into a person though?"

Whatever Mabel's retort was to be was cut off by the door swinging shut.

"There ya go," Stan grumbled. "You're getting your jug. Just in time too." He gestured toward the SUV. The mother was walking toward the Shack, one hand holding the baby, the other gripping tightly to the little boy's hand. The little boy gripped a few dollars in his fist, eyes alight with excitement.

Fiddleford looked frantic. "I can't sing and play the jug at the same time!" He gripped at his hat, pulling it down over his ears.

Ford sighed. "Then don't play the jug."

"It won't be the same!" Fiddleford shook his head. "A jugband without a jug that's...that's like a body with no heartbeat!"

The door swung open and Mabel emerged with an old ceramic jug.

"Here it is!" she exclaimed. "And it only sort of smells like pond scum."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Ford smiled gently. "It seems Fiddleford can't play both simultaneously."

Mabel frowned. "But it's a jugband. It's in the name!"

"How about we wait another day," Ford offered, patting Fiddleford awkwardly on the back. "Maybe someone in town will join you."

"Oh for Pete's sake, give it to me." Stan snatched the jug out Mabel's hand, sniffing at the top and giving a grimace.

Fiddleford stopped pulling at his hat, peeking out from under the brim. "You'll play?"

Stan grunted. "I'm not missing out on good money just because you have a case of the heebie jeebies. Besides, how hard can it be? It's like blowing on the top of a beer...er...I mean soda bottle."

Dipper crossed his arms. "Grunkle Stan, we know what beer is."

"Not from me you don't."

Mabel squealed. "It's happening! Grunkle Stan is learning an instrument!"

"It's not an instrument, Pumpkin. It's dishware."

"It's a scrapbookortunity!"

Mabel dashed into the house once more, leaving Dipper to grin at their Grunkle Stan.

The family was only a few yards away now. Fiddleford looked between Stan, Ford, and Dipper, and straightened up in his seat.

"Alright. Alright!" He clapped his hands together. "Stanley, you get down here with me, otherwise your feet are gonna get mighty sore from standing." He yanked at Stanley's hand until he sat beside the rocking chair with a grumble.

"Now when I tap my foot," Fiddleford instructed. "You blow on the jug. One short note at a time." Fiddleford tapped his foot in demonstration. "You got that?"

Stanley rolled his eyes. "Gee, I don't know. Seems pretty complicated for the guy without a PhD."

Mabel burst through the door, camera clutched in her hands. "Got it!"

"Excuse me?"

The little boy stood on the porch, approaching the banjo case with far more trepidation than before. Eyes darting between the assembly, he dropped a few dollars in the case.

"Is this enough to play a song?"

Fiddleford didn't bother looking at the money. He turned his gaze to Stanley, who shrugged and raised the jug to his lips.

Fiddleford grinned. "You know ‘Boodle Am Shake’?"

The little boy shook his head.

"Well you're about to!" And with that he was off.

By Fiddleford's standards, it wasn't a horribly complicated tune. Ford had heard him pluck out more complex riffs while waiting for the coffee pot in their dorm room to brew. But Fiddleford was smiling. His shoulders had dropped from around his ears, and he was nodding at the little boy to tap his feet along with him. Ford hid his smile behind his hands as he watched Stanley, eyes focused on Fiddleford's bare foot with as much attention as one would give to diffusing a bomb. Next to him, Mabel was snapping pictures of the pair. Dipper stood on his other side, wearing the small smile he tended to get when feeling introspective. Ford laid his hand on Dipper's shoulder, and Dipper leaned into the touch.

The mother was smiling at her little boy, her baby having finally stopped fussing. Maybe it wasn't the grand attraction Mabel had planned, but Ford thought it was worth far more than those few dollars anyway. Nothing could be worth more than his family standing around him, his closest friend singing again.

I know this song, it don't mean a doggone thing. Just do that good old Charleston swing. When you sing...

[timbit-robin-art]

I saw your Mio doodle and now I wonder about a Light Music Club X-Men Edition.. Scott can be on drums he'd be so good at keeping time... whatever Ororo is on (because she'd slay at every instrument) she has to ALSO be on vocals because I believe that's just canon..

maybe Logan can be their roadie

Ah, K-On. My one weakness. I went a little overboard when picturing this, so whoops.

I imagine this being in a universe where there’s still mutants, but Xavier isn’t making them use their powers to fight. Instead, the institute is for learning how to control their powers/providing refuge for mutants who have nowhere else to go, and they go to a mutant/normal human mixed private school for normal education.

Here’s some of my ideas for the club members so far:

Ororo is the bass player and lead vocalist. She’s been inspired to be in a band ever since she lived on the streets as a little kid, where she saw a bass player performing live. Freshmen year of high school, she hears someone absolutely going ham on the drums, and finds Scott playing on his own. It took a while, but she finally convinced Scott to join her. She’s the heart and soul of the group, and main character along with Scott. I don’t see her living at the institute, though Xavier keeps the offer open. Instead, she may live with a 19/20 year old Gambit, who’s living off of the Guild’s money and trying to lay low.

Scott is the drum player. After Xavier picked him off of the streets, he got a bit lost in the mansion and discovered a drum set in the music room (I imagine it used to belong to Erik/Magnus). Xavier sees that the boy has natural rhythm, and decides to find him a teacher. Scott forms a middle school band with the O5, but they had a falling out, causing everyone to go their separate ways. However, Scott is still very passionate about the drums, which is why he eventually joins Ororo. He may be more pessimistic, but his passion for the drums is more than enough to keep him going.

Kurt is the pianist. He’s a transfer student from Germany and has always wanted to be a part of a band like Ororo. It was him that suggested the idea of forming an actual club, and he’s the big idealist/optimist of the group. I can see him not knowing too much on how to play piano, minus the basics he learned from his mother (she taught him how to play despite his three fingers), so when he moves into the institute, Xavier teaches him how to play better. Even though there are some people at school who treat him just as bad as the mobs from his home, he’s still willing to get out there and play with the group.

Hank is the guitarist. He used to be a part of the same group as Scott, but after everyone split a part, he stopped playing entirely. I can see him being intrigued by the talk of a “light music club,” but after seeing Scott was there, he wants nothing to do with it. Eventually, he joins a practice session after Ororo gets through to him, and he realizes just how much he misses playing. Scott and him have the friends-turned-hostile-turned-back-into-friends relationship. Unlike the other three O5 members, his love for music trumps any hostile feelings after the falling out, and he’s willing to give it another go.

Ah, but you can’t have a club without a faculty member as your sponsor;

Mr. Logan was the only available candidate for this. After a lot of begging (and promises that they’d wash his motorcycle every weekend), they eventually get him on board. He pretends to hate it, but it slowly becomes obvious that he has a soft spot for the group. He sees the passion they all have, and it reminds him of when he was younger (hmm… what if Logan was the bass player Ororo saw when she was younger…).

Of course, if we follow K-On, we must have a 5th member that joins later on. I have no idea who that could be. I think there’s a lot of fun ideas depending on who.

[forest-creaturre]

Sehkmet the Just. Devoted Paladin of The Lord of the North Wind; The Wyrmking; King of Good Dragons; The Platinum Dragon Bahamut

More silly Tavs. haha can we tell that I started out drawing animals and have for way longer than I’ve drawn people?

Sehkmet’s an Oath of Vengeance Paladin and always keeps her word, or will die in the attempt.

I imagine she’s been resurrected once before after falling in battle against the cult of Tiamat.

She devoted her life to serving as an instrument for Bahamut’s vengeance after losing her clan to followers of Tiamat as a wee cub.

So she’s very devout, but also gets to be a whole himbo, as a treat. She and Hollow (my durge) would ask together with full earnestness ‘what animal is the pink panther’ and Sehkmet would probably forget after a week.

Some Headcanon-y Things

Heals by giving lil’ forehead kisses and will absolutely not tolerate anyone hiding injuries, she’s lost too many a good ally to let that slide.

Helps with cooking by prepping the food so Gale has a little less work to do; Can freeze food for later too

White Dragonborn are more adapt for the cold, so Sehkmet’s got a thick downy fur, ideal for cuddling; everyone has slept with at least once for the best platonic cuddles (maybe minus Lae’zel until much later)

Has no idea what a shirt is, not really, but she prefers to go without when resting. Only somewhat understands modesty, everything for Dragonborn is extremely internal so she understands in concept, but not necessarily for herself

Does laundry for everyone, finds the repetitiveness to be meditative and is particular about strong smells, so doing it is a win-win. Patches up any holes she finds too.

Fascinated by hair, loves to style it and learned how to when a few war clerics taught her to. Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale all thought she was giving them *the look* but she just wanted to play with and style their hair.

I need to practice muscular bodies a bit, but she’s built like a seven-foot tall truck and hits like a train.

Can only see out of one eye, lost total use of her right one while training to join her order but the vision had been failing most of her life.

She was a secret fan of *The Blade of Frontiers* before meeting Wyll because she’d heard he also only had one functioning eye and was still able to be a champion of the people.

did not, however, realize she was older than him. She’s still a fan.

Spends at least one evenings each tenday polishing and caring for the party’s armor, after proving to Lae’zel she did an acceptable enough job to be entrusted hers as well.

Scarily fast, especially out of her armor. She was too slow, once, to save a cleric who’d trusted her to be their shield. She’d vowed to never be too slow again, and she always keeps her word.

Offers mercy and a second chance unless it’s been proven to her that a beaten enemy won’t do better; She follows Bahamut’s own words on the matter, no justice without mercy and no penance without forgiveness

Would probably be a theater kid

Spars with Lae’zel and Karlach on the regular in camp. I like the idea that Dragonborn can replace teeth but it’s not common knowledge yet, so it’s funny to picture:

Karlach knocking out a couple teeth and being extremely apologetic and starts looking for the teeth

Sehkmet’s just confused because she’s assumed her whole life everyone’s teeth regrow and is confused why Karlach’s dragging Shadowheart over with her old teeth asking if she can put them back.

Lae’zel is amused (Gith definitely would also be able to regrow teeth, selectively bred warrior race and all) and uses the moment for one of her lovely little Githyanki supremacy tangents.

Sehkmet is just standing there, staring at the horizon in concern, like ‘You all don’t regrow teeth?!’ and thinking about how many belated apologies she needs to make

Karlach is still holding bloody teeth

Lae’zel and Shadowheart are fighting (flirting) again

Astarion is over by the cookout bugging Gale and watching the show

Gale and Wyll are still thinking at least they’re normal

the Emperor is still imploring you to eat a tadpole.

[shadamyheadcanons]

Headcanon #298

Cross-posted on AO3.

Sonic and his friends started a band when they were young. Sonic played guitar and sang lead, Knuckles was on drums, and Tails filled in the gaps on his keyboard. They put on performances here and there, entertaining other Mobians and any small animals who passed by.

The odd one out was, of course, Amy. Sonic hadn’t stopped running from her, and the others followed along, ensuring she never had a place. It was bad enough with just the main three keeping her out, but when Sonic welcomed Mighty and Ray to join in with bass and backup vocals while she was still locked out, the pain was too much.

Amy avoided music for years after that. Even after the others stopped leaving her in the dust, she never felt there was room for her in the band.

She was watching them rehearse one day, keeping quiet and feeling bad for herself. Her dejection was visible enough to draw Shadow’s attention. When he asked, she sheepishly explained the problem while the band obliviously played on.

She’d never forget Shadow’s reaction.

It was far from the first time she’d seen him seethe and glare up at Sonic with rage in his eyes, teeth gritted and jaw clenched.

When his gaze fell upon her, however, his muscles relaxed instead. He stepped closer and lowered his voice to mutter in her ear, telling her he wanted to show her something. She agreed, and he teleported her away. The others didn’t notice.

The two of them reappeared in Shadow’s room with a flash. After peeking out of his door to make sure they were alone, he reached into his closet and retrieved two violins, both old but carefully maintained. He placed one in her hands and started demonstrating with the other without explanation, teaching her how to play by example. She was baffled at first, but his low, relaxing voice complimented the higher pitches of the instruments, and his fingers were gentle as he manually guided hers on the fingerboard. Even when he flinched from the occasional stray squeak of her bow, he provided her with nothing but patience.

After a few sessions, she coaxed out the reason for his behavior. Maria had always loved the sound of the violins from the records Gerald brought from Earth. He initially brought one up just for Maria, but she insisted that Shadow should get one, too. Gerald brushed it off for a few weeks, but she stubbornly put her foot down, refusing to learn until he could, too. Gerald had no choice.

Shadow picked it up quickly, but Maria struggled. He wished she could have had more time to learn and enjoy it.

If she hadn’t waited for him, she would have.

In less than a month, the massacre took Maria from them, leaving only Shadow, Gerald, and the violins behind.

Fifty years later, Shadow retrieved them from the ARK and continued learning in her memory, but he hadn’t felt comfortable sharing his talents until Amy was by his side. Touched by the story, she eagerly learned everything she could from him.

Amy felt none of the hesitation Shadow did and finally stepped up, confidently showing Sonic and the others what she’d learned. They happily invited her to play with them this time, encouraging her to take her place whenever strings were called for. When Sonic asked her how she’d learned to play so well, though, she playfully dodged the question, keeping Shadow’s secret at his request.

Although Amy loved joining in with the band from then on, she loved playing duets with Shadow in private even more. The two of them fell for each other with romantic music as the backdrop--all strings attached.

--

((From an ad for the Sonic Symphony:

...and “Play! Violin,” one of the Party Mode games from Sonic and the Secret Rings:

Every character can play it, but I think it suits Shadow best.))

[nehswritesstuffs]

the geisha's komuso

You ever have a fic fucking possess you until it's done? Yeah, this fic was like that for me.

12,435 words; this wasn’t supposed to be so long but it got away from me; I mostly got this idea while writing flashback sequences for ghost speak in whispers and lies, so make of that what you will; mostly takes place during Wano but also contains spoilers/extrapolation for Egghead and minor Elbaf spoilers; absolutely love it when a man gets swept off his feet by a capable woman it’s such a great dynamic

Also: this is my 300th fic. I’m posting this today on the 21st anniversary of my joining FFN, which means that my (online) fic career is absolutely insane. FFN only has 239 of these fics, but AO3 has them all. Buck fucking wild, if you ask me, especially considering how far I’ve come since I was a teenager when I started (and you can fucking tell), with stuff ranging from short poems to multiple +200k longfics. Here’s to what the future may bring!

Law was merely supposed to meet up with Robin to exchange information as they scouted Wano ahead of the Sanji Retrieval Team. A slip of the tongue starts something--will it last? [LawBin; mostly Wano set, Egghead/Elbaf spoilers]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“We’ll meet in two weeks to exchange intel. Don’t worry about a rendezvous point; I’ll find you.”

“Will you be able to, dressed like that?”

“Of course he will! Our captain’s the best!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bepo, but I think I can handle it.” A pause. “Are you sure this is the sort of position you want? We can find you something else.”

“It works towards my already-established skillset. No worries.”

“…and what skillset is that…?”

“Mm… you’ll find out… if necessary.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Robin plucked at the shamisen carefully, getting used to how the large bachi pick felt in her hand. She looked at the sheet music in her lap and slowly hit the notes; she was familiar enough with stringed instruments thanks to her many attempts at making a place for herself before the Straw Hats that it would be almost too simple to pick this one up as well. It felt light and natural as she idly played a few notes of a different song, one she learned a long time ago now, while lifting her head to watch the other inhabitants of the okiya shuffle about their morning. The one thing she had to give the specific okiya she was undercover in was that at least it was peaceful—strict and hardworking, certainly, but the tranquility she found there was above and beyond nearly anywhere else she’d less-than-honestly infiltrated.

Eventually, however, that lazy morning was disrupted by whispers and murmurings by the back gate. Robin kept at her practice, looking graceful as possible as she pretended to ignore the minor commotion and remain on the courtyard porch while her Devil Fruit allowed her to observe the disruption safely. It seemed as though her contact hit a snag and panicked. She allowed her extra parts to dissolve into petals—circumstances had made her work with worse.

“O-Robi.” Robin paused her playing and glanced to her right; the madam of the okiya was standing there, a stern look upon her face and the only one in the okiya already dressed in dayclothes instead of the plain yukata for lounging. “A word.”

Robin placed her shamisen and its bachi down and turned to face the old woman, who merely turned around and began to walk away. She gathered her things and followed her, the pair slipping inside of a waiting room where they sat seiza across from one another.

“Your husband is here,” the madam scowled. “You never told me you are married.”

“My apologies, obaa-san,” Robin replied. She bowed lowly, faking her shame well. “I feared that if you knew I had a husband, you would not let me work. All I want is to work. It was not meant to unjustly deceive you.”

Which, in a roundabout way, was the truth.

“He would not leave and insisted on seeing you. He almost didn’t tell us why and instead nearly started a fight. Do you realize how much of a scene it can cause us taking in a monk? A komuso? What did he do to make him wander around playing the flute for alms while leaving you to find work on your own?”

“Defended me, if you must know,” Robin lied. “One of Kaidou’s men made a pass at me and he objected. Strongly. The penalty was either the factory… or…” She sat up straight, letting well-practiced tears fall down her cheeks. “They thought it… amusing to separate us and take everything we had. That is why I wish to work: so that I can support a man whose only fault is loving me.”

The madam made a noise in affirmation. “I see.” She thought for a moment before exhaling heavily. “He may… visit you, but he must be more discreet in the future. I do not want the yakuza investigating us for harboring a man who should be on a celibate spiritual journey.”

“He might have been banished to wander, but he is still a man, and a faithful one at that.”

“Then go meet him at the back gate.” The madam waved her hand in dismissal. “Do not let this get in the way of your studies or your work. The moment it does, not only is he done but we are as well.”

“Thank you,” Robin said, bowing deeply again before standing. “I understand this is a big risk and you will not regret this kindness.” She grabbed the shamisen and bachi and exited the room, heading towards the back of the okiya. Sure enough, there was Law, the straw basket he was wearing over his head towering before the ones who were keeping him there. She hugged him abruptly, almost causing him to shove her away before he realized who she was. “My darling.”

“O-Robi,” he whispered, holding her close. The other okiya members began to relax as they saw what they assumed was a tender embrace. “They almost didn’t let me in.”

“You need to be more careful,” she chided, “or the yakuza will ruin this place.”

“They have taken you in; I’d never even dream of it.” He allowed her to take his hand and lead him through the building, her blushing and smiling demurely as she brought him to a room that was small, but out of the way, only taking off the basket and his hat when the door was slid shut. There was something handsome about him as he gathered cushions to sit on… something that made her consider her options for this ruse. “How is this place treating you?”

“Well,” she replied. She sat down close to him and whispered in his ear, “this place has more eyes and ears than I do. Watch yourself. Now kiss me.” He grunted in response and played his part, nuzzling just behind her ear before pressing a lingering kiss to her neck.

“You play the shamisen now?”

“A little.”

“Can you play for me?”

“Of course.” Robin picked up the shamisen and bachi before procuring the sheet music from her sleeve pocket. “Tsugaru-obaa-san has noted I am quick to pick things up. She’s pleased with my progress.”

“I don’t like this,” Law admitted. He nearly broke character, catching himself instead. “I should be able to take you from this place and give you a home again.”

“When you are free, I will be the one to give you a home,” she replied. A few notes on the shamisen to test the tuning. “Our children will have a doting father and know that their mother is strong and capable. They will be free from what haunted us.”

“…a thought that eases me to sleep every night.” Law leaned onto his side as Robin began to play a song, waiting for a chance to reveal his true motives for seeing her. An ear eventually sprouted on the wrist that he was propping himself up on, while a pair of lips appeared on his palm—this was their chance.

“I already spread word that you are my devoted husband, who defended my honor from one of Kaidou’s thugs and are now banished to wander as a penitent, celibate monk,” Robin whispered through the spare mouth. Law nodded in understanding. “Did you establish the base camp for the potential recruits?”

“Still looking for a place both big enough and discreet,” he whispered back. “We’ve located the shogun’s private farm and weapon caches throughout the country. Most of them seem easy enough to strike; the ones that don’t shouldn’t take much more planning than the others.”

“Good; I have not gained access to the shogun yet, but that should be soon. He is currently on Onigashima for business. I have been entertaining merchants and yakuza in the meantime—their lips are loose when saké is involved.”

“Anything we can use?”

“Potentially; I need more time to corroborate and pick apart the bragging from truth. Any sign of our reinforcements?”

“Luckily, no. I want us to be more established before Luffy comes around and ruins everything.” He could feel the lips smirk against his skin. “Am I wrong?”

“No.” Robin hit a couple loud notes and Law allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upwards. “Now, come over here and kiss me.”

“…but Nico-ya…”

“Would you rather me be more passionate with my clients than my husband…?” He blushed at that, knowing he was cornered.

“They wouldn’t let me in; I had to try something.”

“And now that something should be followed-through on, considering they know you are not here to listen to the shamisen.” Both the ear and mouth dissipated into sakura petals, effectively ending the conversation. She gave him a coy smile as she continued with her song, challenging him boldly.

Law thought about it for a moment, tongue darting over his lips idly as he considered what had been laid out before him. Had he imagined something like this happening? Sure, but only in the cold loneliness of his cabin and those tired nights he spent in the woods trying to not let the Beast Pirates find their plans. Those were thoughts he was fine with remaining out-of-reach, that he’d get over it in-time like everyone else who’d caught his eye over the years. Now it was almost as though he was given an invitation to act out his most recent guilt-riddled fantasy, and he did not want to waste it.

Without waiting for the end of the song, Law sat up and shifted towards Robin, gently taking hold of the shamisen mid-note and putting it aside. He reached up and touched her face—first with one hand, then the other—gathering his courage before easing them both side-by-side on the tatami mat and kissing her. Any spy would easily mistake his actions for delicate, yearning, and adoring, yet she knew what he really was: timid. Hesitant. Awe-struck.

“I have missed… the sight of you,” he admitted, not entirely in-character. His face was still close to hers, the tips of their noses touching while their lips were barely apart. He touched her hair before angling himself so that their foreheads found one another. “Is this okay…?”

“Of course it is,” she smirked, playing with his earrings. “I take to my room whomever I want, and I choose the man who has been faithful to me.”

“I have stared from afar for so long… I don’t deserve it.”

“…and yet I know there’s no other aside from me.” She met his eyes boldly as she hooked her leg over his, opening herself up. “Touch me.”

Law swallowed hard and did as he was told, reaching inside the fabric of her yukata and realizing she was wearing nothing underneath. He found her folds and was surprised to learn she was already in the beginning stages of being worked up—was this his doing or was it merely wishful thinking? Rubbing at her gently, he eventually dipped two fingers inside her, wetting his hand on her before going back to her clit. Robin broke eye contact and buried her face in his neck, panting hotly.

“More,” she demanded.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Take what is yours.”

“I don’t own you… we’re in the okiya that took you in.”

“My husband has finally found me; don’t deny a woman her husband.”

After only a moment’s thought, Law rolled them both over so that Robin was on her back, gazing up at him with lust-darkened eyes. He made sure she was in possession of enough cushions as she tugged at his obi, opening his kimono and revealing how aroused he was already. They ground their hips together as they both got lost in a kiss that grew increasingly passionate with each passing moment. Hands wandered, hungrily exploring one another, finding sensitive spots that made their breath hitch and bodies twitch at contact.

Eventually, it was too much to bear, and Law hiked up the front of Robin’s yukata and guided himself inside, drawing breathless moans from the both of them as their sexes met. Thrusting into her with purpose, it took all he had to not come immediately, knowing he had to give some sort of performance for the spies in the corridor. A contently married man did not pop off easily like a sex-starved loner whose only true experience with women was being punched by his sisterly ship’s engineer. He hid his face in the crook of her neck as they made lewd, slapping noises whenever their hips met, the only thing on-par with their gasps that otherwise filled the room. Her legs held his hips in place as a low grunt escaped him and he buried himself deep once, twice, then groaned as he came inside her. Sweat dripped off his face and mixed with hers on her now-exposed chest, the yukata having come loose in their lovemaking. He tried to support himself on his elbows afterward, knowing instinctively that things were not going to last long.

“It truly has been a while, hasn’t it?” she crooned, reaching up and wiping the sweat from his forehead into his hair and slicking it back. His expression quickly changed from blissed-out to horror as he realized what they had done.

“It… truly has.” He pulled out of her and collapsed at her side, trying to ignore the trickle of fluid that leaked out and soiled the inside of her yukata. “I… I meant to pull out… I’m sorry…”

“We have tonics for that,” she assured. “Our children will not be born in an okiya unless their father wishes it.”

“I… prefer not.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “May I see you again…? Like this…?”

“I’ll do you one better,” she claimed. “Pay attention to which room this is; I will hang a signal out the window when I am not working for the night. We can meet then, sleep in a real bed, be together properly.”

“…but…”

“You trusted me before, so trust me now.” She leaned in and kissed him gently. “It won’t be for a few days yet, so do not fear. Okay?”

Law nodded and kissed Robin once more before cleaning himself up and putting the basket back on his head. He slid opened the door to the corridor and surprised the other geisha who were there wondering why it had gone so quiet. It was a good thing his face was hidden, or else it would have been much more difficult to hide his flustered, flushed face and shocked expression. He wandered almost aimlessly to the edge of the Flower Capitol, his specific disguise allowing him passage out without fuss despite his sword.

What the actual fuck just happened…?!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

That night, Penguin and Shachi noticed that their captain seemed a bit off. He had been cagey since he’d come back from acquiring intel at the okiya that Miss Robin was working at. Had someone in the Flower Capital pissed him off? Was he withholding information from what Miss Robin had given him? Something was preoccupying his thoughts and they decided to give him a wide berth until he sorted it all out. Even Bepo could tell something was up and allowed Captain his space. They all guessed they’d been a bit clingy since meeting with him again on Zou, but could anyone blame them? It was why when he left that night to wander the woods by himself, no one followed, taking the hint that he wanted them to stay behind. He always came back; it was nearly a guarantee.

Law was grateful to be left alone with his thoughts that night as he allowed his feet to take him far from the base camp. He couldn’t stop thinking about his encounter with Robin, how the entire thing went from unfortunate accident to a wet dream come to life. The word husband had slipped out unconsciously, not even realizing it was said until he saw the looks on the okiya residents change from annoyance to confusion.

Sure, he had gained access to his informant, but at what cost? It opened doors, yeah, yet now he kept thinking about it, thinking about her, about them, and what it in the fuck it could mean beyond Wano’s borders. She didn’t strike him as someone who would engage in casual sex and it was difficult to consider that as a possibility. Sure, she was in character, but some of the things she was insinuating were hitting him just right, turning over and over in his brain like the Polar Tang’s rotisserie. He leaned his arm against a tree as he used his free hand to reach under his kimono and begin stroking himself as he let his thoughts consume him. It had been so long since he’d had any positive musings about the future that he was going absolutely mad and he wasn’t even sure it would last beyond the mission.

He thought about romantic vows unlike anything he had expected to hear again; about unzipping a gown or peeling back the folds of a formal kimono; about the domesticity of going to bed together every night and waking up together in the morning. Imagining her hands on him in so many ways made sweat bead on his forehead and his own hand work faster, glad his precome was now leaking in earnest. He wanted to carve her up, carve himself up, make their bodies intermingle as they truly became two parts of one flesh fused by oaths and convictions and devotion declared before all forces visible and invisible…

Choking down his own moans, Law shivered as he came in his own hand, aiming his spunk for the base of the tree to save the inside of his kimono. It was embarrassing, rubbing himself out in the middle of the woods for something likely no more than a fantasy, but he had something now that was worth aiming for despite it all.

He could become Robin’s one day, and the very idea that he could escape death multiple times, survive on trash, almost kill himself in the pursuit of revenge and closure… and yet still somehow become Robin’s husband…? It was a thought that threatened to devour him completely if he could not get it under control, embarrassment beginning to slowly consume the frayed edges of his dignity. He needed to know… he needed answers about what this meant underneath this consummate lie told elegantly for their cause…

…he needed to see her again, because if he didn’t, he was very likely to go insane.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a few days later when Robin and the rest of her geisha sisters were coming back from an off-site performance. The hour was relatively early and the sound of their geta on the street echoed off the surrounding buildings. A relaxing night was ahead of them, a rare one in the scheme of things.

“What do you plan on doing with your evening?” Robin asked one of the other geisha. The younger woman giggled in reply.

“I have a new novel I want to start,” she replied cheerily. “What about you, O-Robi? Is your husband coming tonight?”

“If he sees the signal I leave for him,” Robin smirked. Her coworker snorted in laughter. “What?”

“I’d show him off more if I were you,” the younger geisha said. “I’m short enough to have caught a peek under his basket—he is very handsome.”

“Why thank you.” Robin gave the younger woman a smile. “He is easy on the eyes, isn’t he?”

“Very. It’s a good thing he has to wear that basket in public, or else he’d have a more difficult time staying faithful, I suspect.” The geisha thought for a moment. “How did you keep other women away from him before?”

“When a man is satisfied with his marriage, his wife does not worry about what his eyes might find,” Robin said. The younger woman giggled again; the prospect was not something that seemed possible to her, and that was fine. It was not what Robin needed her to believe the most, after all.

Soon the group arrived back at the okiya and dispersed to their respective places. Some went to the kitchens, or the halls where other guests were still being entertained, yet Robin went upstairs to her room, where the futon had already been laid out for her. All the guests in the building were regulars and known to be poor fonts of information; anything worth her interest would be still passed around in the morning. Taking her time, she pulled the spotted white hat from a drawer and placed it on a hook outside of her door to the balcony. Once she did that, she lit the lamps and knelt down at the vanity, beginning the process of removing her makeup.

She certainly had… enjoyed the result of the mix-up the other night, though she wondered if it had been entirely a good idea. It had not been the first time she had engaged in sexual activity while undercover—and it likely wouldn’t be the last—it was, however, very clearly the first time for her informant in a long time by any circumstance, if at all. She had thought of bringing him to bed since the moment he had been brought onto the Thousand Sunny; he seemed like a man who could keep her interest for longer than most and she detected a sense of vulnerability that could make such an encounter all the more so. It seemed fortuitous that he committed the exact slip necessary to bring them closer—it must have been something on his mind as well. The only question was if this was going to stay in the okiya, or if they would let it become something more… long-standing.

Eventually, she heard the sound of a pebble clack against the lacquered wood outside. A moment later and her door slid open and shut—he was there.

“I was wondering where this went,” Law said as he took off his basket and tossed the hat and his sandals in it. Robin could see him staring at her via the mirror, a quality to his gaze that had not been there when they last met… one that she was pleased to recognize. “Thank you for keeping it.”

“It is not a problem,” she said. She then turned slightly, allowing their eyes to meet directly. “Can you help me out of this headgear?”

Without a word, Law knelt down next to Robin and helped slide the pins and combs from her hair. She took a brush to the strands as he lingered, leaning in close to her ear.

“We have a candidate for a base camp we can move into soon,” he whispered. “Any more news on your end?”

“None of use,” she replied softly. “I hear too much useless gossip, but we’re almost there regardless. We are scheduled to attend to the shogun within the week.”

“Excellent.” She watched his face in the mirror; it was clearly everything he could do to hold himself back. She put down the brush and one of his hands found the back of her obi, gently pulling it loose. “Did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what?” He leaned in closer, lips barely grazing the shell of her ear.

“That we can be together…? Properly…?” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since then.”

“Are you mistaking this for something else entirely, perhaps?” She felt the tension of her obi go slack as he slowly untied it. “Love and lust are not the same.”

“I am aware.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on her shoulder as he cupped her breasts from behind. Her kimono was still in place, so all he touched was fabric, but neither could be called a fool. “I don’t do casual. Please don’t hint at something more than this if you’re only going to make it casual banter. I can suck it up and compartmentalize these meetings for the plan, but if you keep teasing me about what could possibly come after…”

“You’re not a hit, so I think you’re safe,” she purred. Robin leaned back into Law’s grasp, feeling the soft scratch of his facial hair against the curve of her neck. “Does that bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“I have tricked people into trusting me by using sex to my advantage,” she explained, though still keeping her confession vague and voice quiet. “That would make most normal people think twice about considering me as something more than… casual.”

“So you developed a certain skillset before teaming up with… your friends—I’d be more surprised if you didn’t, considering everything.” He flexed his fingers deliberately, massaging her breasts as he did so. “That is different. This is now. What does this mean going forward?”

“I guess we’re going to have to find out.”

Robin carefully disengaged herself from Law’s grasp and stood, making sure to keep the fold of her kimono in place as the obi dropped to the floor. She held out her hand towards him and he took it, allowing her to help him to his feet. He pulled her close into his arms as they stared silently into one another’s eyes. They were nearly the same height like this, the three centimeters between them melting away as he barely had to dip down to join their lips in a kiss.

Oh! It felt wonderful as they slowly kissed away any reservations either of them had, hands wandering as they slowly made their way across the small room to where the futon laid. Robin eased Law’s kimono off his shoulders, baring his arms and chest as the obi held the rest of the garment in place. The cold air hitting his skin sent a shiver down his spine, making the fine hairs on his body stand on-end as he sucked in a breath against her neck.

“Is this part of your disguise?” she whispered, tugging at the obi. He shook his head.

“We made real ones,” he replied breathily. “Mine will be fine, but yours feels a bit more like we need to take special care of it. Allow me.”

“No,” she chuckled. “This needs a little more care than yours. Just watch.”

Not wanting to disobey so soon, Law took off his kimono and tossed it to the side as he did not take his eyes off Robin. He slid into the bedding as he watched her bare herself to him, naked as she carefully folded the garment into one slender block of fabric. She then shuffled her way over to the bed, crawling in as she settled herself above him, grinding her already-wet core against his hardening cock. A moment and said cock twitched as he felt arms form underneath the blanket and hold his legs in place, completely out of sight from where anyone could see if they barged in (or spied) on them.

“No fair,” he growled, in an effort to keep his voice from cracking. “That’s cheating.”

“All’s fair,” she smirked. She then used well-hidden fingers to guide him into her as she held his wrists down against the futon with her real hands. Rocking her hips against his, she pulled a moan out of him that was so high-pitched he would never admit to it.

“Waging war, are we?” he choked out. She leaned down and pressed their lips together in a kiss before forcing another gasp from him, swallowing it down with pleasure.

Oh, she was going to have fun with this.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Morning broke and Robin woke to the feeling of Law’s lips against her neck and his erection against her ass and thigh as he curled around her. After such a vigorous night together, it was impressive he was ready to go again so quickly. She reveled in the sensation of being full-bodied caressed until it hit her exactly what time it was.

“Oh… you need to leave…” she realized.

“They folded my kimono and left us both breakfast, so I think it’s fine,” he replied. Sure enough, she bent to look towards the door and saw two trays sitting there, both filled with food. “Your coworkers like me.”

“My coworkers think you’re handsome,” she corrected. Robin sat up and used her Devil Fruit to pass along a couple of plain yukata from where they sat folded against the wall. They pulled them on and began to eat, the food clearly better than what Law had been getting thanks to his pleased reaction. “Not a lot of gourmet restaurants outside of the Flower Capitol?”

“Ha, ha; it’s all I can do most days to keep my friends from eating river fish.” He ate another mouthful of rice and shook his head. “Eating here will at least mean more to go around later.”

“It shall,” she agreed. Robin leaned over and plucked the umeboshi out of Law’s pickle bowl, knowing she would not get any resistance. “I am glad that you at least have your friends on the outside; I will see some of my friends from time to time and I don’t know what I’d do without that support.”

“Yeah…” Law stopped eating and contemplatively looked down at his food. “I know the rest of your friends are coming… but what if they… don’t…? What if… what if my time to wander comes to an end and the plan we had built falls apart?”

“This okiya could always use menfolk around who won’t take advantage of their position,” she said plainly. “Depending on how much I’ve made in the meantime, we could strike out on our own.” A pause. “With our friends, of course.”

“You say that so easily,” he frowned. Sure, he wanted to sail away with her in the Polar Tang, bring her with him as he attempted to find out the meaning of his name and the history behind it, but it was nothing more than a pipe dream. “If your friends do show up… then where do we go from here?”

“We’ll figure that out in time,” she assured. “Now hurry up—if we get moving, I can sneak you out into the alleyway and we can have the whole day to ourselves.”

“A date…? In the middle of our… situation…?”

“It is my day off, and we can make use of that.”

A grin tugged on his lips as he knew what she meant—they could take their activities elsewhere, whether it be mission-based or not. They finished their breakfast and quickly dressed, glad that the corridor seemed rather deserted when Robin conjured some eyes to peek at who else was around. Their pathway towards the rear exit looked like it was going to be an easy escape route for them, as it had both the least amount of people to dodge and the shortest amount of distance to travel.

They were almost out the door when a woman’s scream caught their attention—one of the other geisha was being assaulted at the gate opposite the one they were sneaking out from. Robin discreetly conjured some eyes and saw that not only did the attacker have a knife, other members of the okiya were rushing to her aid.

“Looks like a new delivery courier isn’t in it for the tips,” she said, allowing her extra eyes to vanish before being noticed. “I’d snap his neck, but there’s too many witnesses.”

“Then we might need to do this the old-fashioned way.” Law took the basket off his head and fished a handkerchief from his pocket, tying it around his face to conceal his identity. He and Robin then went to the other door and found that a few people were bleeding as they tried to contain the attacker. Law did not break stride as he walked up to the attacker and slammed Kikoku’s hilt dead in his face, breaking his nose and fracturing a cheekbone. The attacker stumbled backwards as he held his face, looking livid as he glared down Law.

“What the fuck is up with the mask? Too scared to show your face?”

“As though you’re worth showing my face to,” Law said. He drew Kikoku and held the tip directly under the attacker’s nose. “I still have a jaw to break—how about it?”

The attacker looked at the sword and decided that it was no longer worth the effort and left, running through the back alley to what he thought was freedom, but was instead a snapped neck and back courtesy of Robin’s Devil Fruit once he was out of sight. Law, however, simply sheathed his sword and immediately began to look at the wounded.

“We should run for the doctor,” someone said. Most of the injuries were superficial, but the initial geisha who had been attacked was stabbed in the side, blood still pouring from her wound.

“There’s no time,” Law said. “Where does the doctor usually put people they’re operating on in here?”

“In the sick room, but I…”

“Get her in there, now, and I need your medical kit, along with a sturdy needle and thread—catgut if you have it.” He was met with further confusion, to which Robin had to step in before anyone began to ask questions.

“My husband was a surgeon and doctor before our current situation,” she explained. “Please, do what he says.”

After a moment of hesitation, the okiya residents began to follow Law’s orders, bringing him and the injured geisha to the sickroom. They were able to get him fresh, hot water and soap, as well as the medical kit he requested. Once he was clean and his sleeves tied back, he went to work on staunching the bleeding and stitching up the wound. He had just finished when the doctor arrived, having still been sent for by the okiya’s manager. The old man stared at the pale, unconscious woman as Law was finishing cleaning her up.

“You should have waited for me,” the doctor said sternly. Law didn’t even glance up from his patient.

“She would have died,” he stated. “She has fifteen internal stitches, not including the sutures you see on the outside. Timing is everything with gut wounds and she did not have the luxury of waiting.”

“That is very tidy needlework,” the doctor noted, seeing the wound before Law covered it with gauze. “Where did you learn?”

“That part’s self-taught,” Law smirked, knowing the older man could hear it on his voice. He finished covering the woman’s wound and made room for their actual physician to step in and examine her.

“Her pulse is weak, but it doesn’t seem like she’s in danger,” the doctor said after a quick check of the woman. “You did the right thing, lad. She’ll live.”

“She’ll more than live—she should make a full recovery,” Law replied. “It’s on my pride as a doctor.”

“A little unconventional for a doctor, aren’t you?” the doctor said. He looked at the tattoos on Law’s hands and forearms, as well as poking out from under his kimono on his chest, and frowned. “You look more yakuza than anything. Where did you train?”

“Here and there; my training was… less than formal.” Law didn’t like the way the man was sizing him up, the tension in the room broken by one of the geisha’s friends bursting in through the door and breaking into sobs at the sight of her.

“O-Nana!” she cried. The young woman sank to her knees next to her friend and grabbed hold of her hand. “She’s so cold…!”

“She just lost a lot of blood,” Law explained. “That will change after she gets some rest.”

“Thank you!” the young woman replied. She gave Law a brief hug before remembering who he was, backing away in embarrassment. “Please, I don’t even know your name—all anyone knows is you’re O-Robi’s husband…”

“…Tora-o,” he said, remembering the nickname Luffy had given him. He was hesitant to use it, but at the same time, it made the most sense out of any. “We are Tora-o and O-Robi of the Nico Clan, a small family that used to be along the coast. Don’t ask me for any more details—I was young when everything happened.”

“We all were pretty young then, yeah,” the young woman agreed, clearly thinking he meant the Boil of Oden. The usual doctor seemed to be rather perturbed by her acceptance of Law, as though he didn’t even exist anymore. “I’m so glad you’re here, Tora-o-san—Mizuki-senpai lives a bit far, so I bet he’s glad too that you were here, aren’t you Mizuki-senpai?”

“Hmm, I guess,” the older doctor shrugged. Law did his best to not smirk gleefully as the patient’s friend continued to sing his praises, only letting himself crack as Robin finally came into the room to see what was going on.

They might not have made it out on their date, but they had something better: the trust of those around them. They both knew it was better than gold to a spy, and they were going to use it for everything it was worth.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Your captain’s in town.”

The words were whispered into Robin’s ear as she and Law laid together in her bed. Since he had saved one of her coworkers from a near-fatal knife wound, he had become a staple fixture around the okiya, able to come and go as he pleased without any resistance or suspicion from the others who lived and worked there. He was seen as one of them, in fact, as they would warn him when they heard of crackdowns and even covered for him when yakuza wanted to start poking around for “inspection purposes”. The couple took advantage of their newfound fortune as much as possible; that night had been only kissing and groping, but his words had been the first ones of actual importance to their true mission spoken all evening.

“I take it you had a run-in with him, then?” she chuckled. He grumbled in reply, because of course he did. “What did he do that was so Luffy he couldn’t help it?”

“Gave an entire cart of food headed for the castle to a bunch of randos in Okobore Town,” he claimed. “You can’t be a pirate and pull shit like that—makes me sick.”

“…and you becoming the okiya’s favorite new doctor isn’t anything like that, is it?” she teased.

“I’m a medical professional first and you know that; he’s just…”

“Luffy…?”

“Yeah.” He kissed her bare shoulder and held onto her waist a bit tighter. “This might be the last time I can see you like this if my suspicions are correct. Your captain is going to take up all of my attention and it’s going to be annoying.”

“You knew what you were getting into,” she smirked. “Do you think that Dressrosa was a fluke?”

“…no…”

“Then we’ll be fine,” she assured, scratching his scalp. “Luffy always finds a way to come out on top; that’s part of why we follow him.”

“He’ll make me go gray before that,” Law whined. He shifted so that he could hide his face in her chest, not wanting her to see the frustrated blush that was darkening his skin. “I don’t want to go gray yet.”

“If you go gray, then I’d really have to protect your honor,” she noted. He mumbled something between her breasts and she pinched his shoulder for his attention.

“My father never went gray,” he repeated, looking her in the face this time. “He never got the opportunity.”

“I don’t know if my mother’s hair was an early gray or white-blonde, and there’s the chance she was the younger one,” she replied consolingly. Robin offered Law a smile, feeling rather privileged to see the infamous Surgeon of Death—Supernova and former Warlord—embarrassed and frustrated over the process of ageing. “You will look distinguished with gray—sexy, even.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Maybe I am, but that doesn’t make it not true… nor does it mean I will be afraid of looking more and more like my mother in order to watch you grow old.” She stroked his hair as he buried his face between her breasts once more in resignation. “I would imagine it could be nice, slowly walking towards a death of old age, outliving those who tried to make it otherwise.”

“Nothing romantic about slowly using control of one’s faculties.”

“Then is it true what they say? That the bladder goes first? Or is it something less noticeable, like the spleen?”

“My specialty is not palliative care. That’s something you will have to ask Tony-ya about.”

“Hmm… possibly.” Robin closed her own eyes and sprouted some additional ones in discreet locations, monitoring the okiya. The man in her arms began to melt in her touch as they simply laid there in silence, enjoying one another’s company while they still could. Her false eyes dissipated as she opened her real ones, noting how Law was now sleeping peacefully nestled atop her. The tension in his shoulders and neck was slowly fading as he softly snored into her chest, snugged up against her as though it was where he was meant to belong… as though it was the only place in all of Wano and the seas where he could get meaningful rest.

Maybe… if everything went well… then they’d see.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The afternoon sun was hanging low in the sky as Robin wandered through the Flower Capitol, trying to find a way out that would not bring attention to herself. She had gone back to the okiya to discreetly grab a few small things that she thought would be useful. Now with her prizes in her sleeve pockets, she carefully moved throughout the long-shadowed streets, making sure to avoid eye contact with anyone who seemed to possibly be in the employ of either the yakuza or shogun. She was glad that the local enforcers only really knew her from images made depicting her as a geisha, making her high ponytail and plain kimono an extra level of protection.

She was nearly out of danger when she ran into a roadblock: yakuza milling about the exit to the Flower Capitol, checking people who were attempting to pass through the gates. Robin attempted to think of a plan while she pretended to busy herself with a pottery vendor, her train of thought crashing when she felt a familiar pair of hands settle on her waist as their owner’s voice tickled the shell of her ear.

“I thought I told you to wait for me,” he said lowly, with a hint of playfulness to his voice. Robin smirked; two could play at that.

“Then maybe we should take this elsewhere,” she suggested. She put the bowl she was inspecting back onto the table and went towards a nearby alleyway. When Robin turned around, she saw that Law had been dutifully following her, the basket he normally wore fully replaced by his usual hat and his sword strapped to his back. “Dropped the formalities now that our secret’s out?”

“That, and no outsiders are in the Capitol today,” he shrugged, tucking his hat into his kimono. “I went to see you at the base and you weren’t there—what did you need that was so important?”

“A little of this and that,” she replied. “My time in information-gathering was not simply to have more opportunities to be alone with you.”

“Ha, ha; you should have asked me to come along. We’d already be out of here if you did.”

“…and what prevents you from getting us out right now?”

“The goons about to stumble onto us.”

At that, Law leaned in and kissed Robin passionately, one hand cradling her jaw while the other squeezed deeply into her ass. She threaded her fingers through his hair as she kissed back, the pair aggressively making out as a trio of yakuza stumbled through the alley, drunker than they should have been for the time of day. As they approached, Law picked Robin up by her thighs and held her against the wall, causing the yakuza to wolf-whistle and congratulate him as they went past. He put her down once the alleyway was clear, snapping up a large Room and replacing them with rocks from outside the city walls.

Robin felt a few more tugs of Law’s Shambles ability in quick succession, the sensation almost making her dizzy, before she felt his body press up against hers, pinning her against a large tree.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked, voice catching as he breathed in her scent. His hands wandered and Robin realized that he had placed her on a root, elevating her position compared to his.

“Possibly,” she smirked. She slipped one hand under the collar of his kimono, scratching lightly at his upper back and neck. He held her close at that, peppering her throat and jaw with kisses.

“Possibly…?” He nipped at her pulsepoint with betrayal on his voice. “How possibly…?”

“Anyone can break under these conditions,” she reasoned. He held her tighter, fingers digging in against fabric and flesh.

“Then what do you want from me?” he breathed. “Is this… is this all just a game to you? Please tell me it’s not that…”

“Far from it,” she moaned softly. Despite the hesitation in his voice, he was giving her such an intense amount of physical attention that had she been unable to parse a hidden meaning, she would have been a fool. “You’re handsome, you’re intelligent, you’re interesting… I want us to hold each others hearts in our hands and feel it beat against our palms and fingers.” The noise that came out of him was encouraging, sending a jolt through her.

“I will give you my beating heart if that is what you wish,” he murmured against her skin. He rutted against her thigh and she could feel how hard he was already. “I can show you the inner workings of the body; vivisect a particularly irritating individual and show you how their insides move perfectly in sync with each other while they’re splayed out like a pinned butterfly. I can show you your bones and how they compliment your beauty… shower you with affection from the inside-out.”

“Is that all you’re after?” she teased. “My bones?”

“I’ve done a fairly decent job of jumping them, I’d say.” She could feel him grin against her throat, an action that in any other man would have seemed predatory. “I could be after something else.”

“…and what might that be?”

Law opened another Room and muttered under his breath, taking something from both of them. He took half a step backwards and held out his hands, showing that he had removed their hearts, offering one to her. “It could have been only your heart after all.”

“Interesting,” she smirked, taking the offered organ. It was not hers, as she felt a different rhythm in her hands than the one she felt still reverberating in her chest. She held it closer to her face, watching it work despite its separation from the body. “I didn’t think you’d give me what I wanted so quickly.”

“I want to show you that I’m serious,” he replied gravely. He slid her heart into the opening in his chest, it disappearing as his body absorbed it. “I will care for your heart as I leave mine with you—a promise that we’re both going to make it out of here alive.”

“…and if I die…?” she wondered. “I could be strangled by one of Kaidou’s men… done with as they please.”

“Then I would know, and they would regret it; they wouldn’t even get a chance to know they accidentally took out a Warlord at the same time.”

“Hmm… you don’t wear survivor’s guilt well, do you?”

“I’m sick of it,” he claimed. He eased her hands towards her chest, sliding his heart into the unnatural cavity to seal it away. Robin felt his heartbeat pulse inside her once it settled in; their twin hearts did not beat in unison, but in a rhythm that was more complimentary than anything. Hands on her chest, she felt the odd sensation until he took hold of both her hands, kissing her knuckles. “Please don’t make me go through survivor’s guilt again. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“The Surgeon of Death is so fragile?”

“The Surgeon of Death is only a man and men can only handle so much in a lifetime.” He pulled her down from the tree root and held her close, whispering, “Please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” she gently teased. Pressing their lips together in a kiss, she inhaled sharply as she felt the crackle of his Room envelop them once again, stealing the breath from his lungs before he swapped them both again, rapidly changing their location until they were by a secluded wayhouse on a long-abandoned path. They were truly alone, the realization allowing them both a guilty grin.

Kaidou and his army would be there when they were done, anyhow.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sukiyaki closed up the entryway to the staircase and looked at his guests. “It will take me a while to acquire the amount of paper that you requested. I shall make sure I have the rubbings done before you leave tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Robin said, bowing deeply at the waist. Law echoed her with a nod. “We appreciate your generosity.”

“Thank me by going and attending the festival in the meantime,” Sukiyaki replied. “You both should be out there enjoying the fruits of your labor as two of the nation’s rescuers. Go be young.”

“Yes, sir,” Robin smiled. Law simply grunted and pulled down the brim of his hat in a futile attempt to hide the fact he was blushing. She took his arm and they left the kokeshi doll room, heading towards the main of the castle. “This is so exciting—the fact that the Poneglyph was underneath us this entire time… it’s unreal.”

“Watching you read that was honestly worth the hassle of taking down Big Mom,” Law said. They exited the castle and found themselves at the mouth of the main street, where festivities were in full-force. “You are wonderful when you’re in your element.”

“…and what is ‘my element’, I might ask?” she asked cheekily.

“Doing what you love and enjoy without worrying about who’s about to attack from around the corner.”

She hummed in agreement. “It’s a good feeling.” Her grip on his arm tightened slightly and they continued to wander the festival. Varied members of their crews and allies were speckled throughout the crowd, enjoying themselves beyond anything they would have thought possible a week prior. None of them noticed the couple, who were taking in the festival with a quiet, academic air of people who just wanted to watch for a while before they began participating.

“Oh! O-Robi!” The pair’s attention was caught as the diminutive okiya manager came into view. She was with a couple of the geisha from the house—the trio forming a small musical group—all stopping what they were playing to approach Robin and Law. “We were worried about you! When the word spread that you and your husband were foreign spies, we feared the worst!”

“I can assure you that it was far from it,” Robin admitted with a smile. She let go of Law’s arm and bowed lowly at the waist. “Thank you for the position you gave us, even if unknowingly. The information we were able to gather due to my geisha work was invaluable.”

“…and you must be proud of O-Robi,” one of the geisha teased, giving Law a wink. “She put herself in such danger! Your wife is much braver than I am.”

“I am proud of her, but…” Law blushed, trailing off. The geisha all looked at him curiously and he froze, causing Robin to cut in.

“We’re not married,” she admitted. “It was mostly a ruse so he could come see me.”

“You’re… not married…?” the okiya manager marveled. “You mean none of that passion between you was real?”

“It is real,” Robin assured. “We plan on exploring our options later.”

“That will never do,” the okiya manager decided. “You come with me.”

At that, the older woman started down an alleyway, with the other two geisha dragging along Robin and Law as they followed. She went along willingly, though…

“What are you doing?” he scowled, trying to look intimidating. It didn’t work. “Where are you taking us?”

“Don’t worry, Tora-o-san!” the geisha pulling on Law’s wrist grinned. “You’re gonna like this place!”

“You have to keep it secret, though!” the geisha leading Robin added. “We only know because the shrine is run by Tsugaru-obaa-san’s brother!”

“A shrine…?” Robin wondered. She was clearly having much more fun than Law. “What kind of shrine?”

“You’ll find out!”

After turning down a few other streets and alleyways, the group stopped in front of what looked like a small, shabby shrine that was tucked away between apartment buildings. A crest was emblazoned on the cloth divider between the street and the internal worship space that caused the outsiders to pause: a pair of crossed scrolls over the outline of a sun. Out of all the clan crests they had seen while in Wano, this one was foreign to both pirates.

“Come in!” the okiya manager insisted. Law and Robin exchanged a look and nodded at one another before stepping forward of their own accord. The other two geisha remained outside as everyone else took off their shoes and walked inside, with the older woman scowling as she looked around. “Are you even here, you old fart?!”

“Watch who you’re calling an old fart!” An elderly man came hobbling out from behind a large Buddha statue that was sitting on a platform, looking as though he had been in the middle of cleaning. He saw the okiya’s manager and cringed. “What do you want, imouto-chan?”

“I want to introduce two of the foreign pirates from the shogun’s alliance to someone who is familiar with their rites,” she said, motioning towards Robin and Law. The old monk regarded them carefully as his sister whispered in his ear.

“What are you talking about?” Law frowned. “What rites?”

“Rites that were passed down from master to apprentice, from before the time of isolation began,” the monk explained. “What did my sister tell you before bringing you here?”

“Nothing,” Robin said. The monk nodded.

“Then what do you know about the Closing of Wano?”

“It was done when the Walls were built,” she replied. “The leaders of the time deemed it safer for Wano to have little-to-no contact with the outside world. It made crossing the nation’s borders a capital offense.”

“Indeed,” the monk affirmed. “What do you know, then, about before the Closing of Wano?”

Both Robin and Law looked at one another—neither had heard anything in particular about Wano before the Void Century outside of their conversation with Sukiyaki, least of all something they could divulge to a random stranger. The monk chuckled at that.

“The tales that have been passed down to me over the generations may differ slightly from the truth, but what I am confident in is that Wano used to be a cultural and trade powerhouse, with merchants and visitors coming and going as they pleased. When the Walls were built and Wano cut off from the rest of the world, the shogun of the time declared that we abandon any foreign ways we may have learned… that Wano was to remain for Wanolese only.”

“So then the isolationist policy was more than just a safety measure, but a cultural one as well,” Robin noted. The monk raised his eyebrow.

“Yes; a scholar’s question.”

“It is my life’s work,” she smirked. She then allowed her expression to grow serious. “What happened when the cultural purity policy was enacted?”

“Much as you can imagine: lives were lost, traditions that had naturally taken root and grown died out or went underground, and people who loved Wano yet clung to ways deemed too foreign lived in fear. Even when under the auspices of a tolerant ruler, we’ve taken care to hide ourselves, in case his successor does more than simply hold us in mild contempt.”

“‘We’…?” Law noted. “What do you mean by that?”

The monk simply crooked his finger and hobbled behind the statue. When his sister silently urged them to follow, Robin and Law held hands as they did, climbing onto the platform holding the giant statue and finding that it held a secret. On its back sat a cross-shaped recess, the inside of which was intricately decorated while a sun was etched in the stone around it. Suddenly, the crest on the outside of the building made much more sense, drawing a gasp from Law and a curious look from Robin.

“Then you know of Nika?” the monk asked.

“He brought salvation to those cast away and downtrodden,” Law said, still in awe. Robin let his hand slip from hers as he stepped closer to the back of the statue, tracing over the designs with his fingers. “Slaves see him as a liberator, their masters see him as a destroyer; my hometown saw him as a source of strength and spiritual guidance. He is a god—maybe even in relation to the God, if there is one—and his ideals around freedom and social equality helped ground us.”

“Good,” the monk grinned. “What do the priests in your hometown say?”

“They used to say he would save those who are good and keep them from damnation… that he would make everyone free and equal as he laughed in the faces of evil sinners,” Law replied. His voice was low and quiet as he reached back into his memory, to things he had not said aloud in well over a decade. “No more slaves or wars, the poor not going hungry or cold, the faithful becoming heirs to an eternal kingdom free of suffering after we pass on… but they’re all dead. Some good that did them.”

“There were people who thought similarly in my hometown,” Robin offered. “Some found the tales more academic in nature, but others did genuinely believe, even if it was privately.”

“The shoguns of old did not like Nika, as the sort of piety he was associated with paid no homage to their right of rule,” the monk explained. “That is why those who believe in him were forced to go underground and hide our faith while others who allowed reverence to the shogun were kept as part of Wanolese culture. Most think of me as another normal monk, but those who know the temple crest’s true meaning understand that is just a disguise.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Robin wondered. “Tsugaru-obaa-san mentioned that you knew of foreign rites… what sort of rites was she referring to?”

“Marriage rites,” he said plainly. His audience of two looked at him curiously. “My sister said that you two should be married before you leave this island. If you agree, I am willing to perform the ceremony in your ways… or close to them.”

“Excuse us for a moment…” Law said, pulling Robin off the stage. He waited until he was a few paces away before whispering in a panic. “What in the hell is this?!”

“It seems like a genuine offer,” she replied. She glanced around the shrine and saw that her former employer had left—they were alone with the old man. “If we go through with it now, there might be complications.”

“That undersells it,” he scoffed. “We’re supposed to go in different directions once the festival is over. It could be years before we see each other again.” He bit his lower lip in thought. “You’d be tied to someone you were barely with—when we do meet again, we might be on opposing sides. Even if we do meet next as friends, we might realize that’s all we are…”

“Many couples have differences, some even more prominent than ours,” she reminded him. “You seemed very attached to that carving on the back of the statue… does it remind you of better days?”

“It does, but… I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted. He held her shoulders as he looked into her eyes, wanting little more than to run away from everything with her. “It wasn’t that long ago I thought I was marching to my death; I mean… isn’t this fast…?”

“We didn’t exactly take any of this slow, did we?”

“I guess not,” he admitted. Law felt as though his brain was floating in soup—the overload of everything was impacting his ability to think as quickly as he was used to, something he didn’t like. “What do you want to do…?”

“This might be our only chance to have this done in a way meaningful to either of us,” she said. “It wouldn’t matter to me who does it; it might be nice to have it taken care of so we have something to look forward to when our adventures are done.”

Silently, Law nodded and took Robin’s hand in his, kissing her knuckles. She held his face with her free hand, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb.

“Robin,” he whispered, “will you marry me?”

“Of course,” she smiled. “The minister’s waiting on us, isn’t he?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Later on that night, while the rest of their crews, the remainder of the alliance, and all the Flower Capitol were partying until they dropped, Law and Robin were in her room back at the okiya, making use of the madam’s promise that they would not be disturbed. They made love into the early hours of the morning—both with and without Devil Fruit assistance—selfishly giving themselves a wedding night to keep in their memories for the long days apart looming ahead of them. Their shouts were drowned out by fireworks and they gasped breathlessly in the moonlight; between was all kisses and touches, mapping out one another’s bodies with their mouths and hands desperate to feel something more substantial than lust to sate their future yearning.

Before they left in the morning, they placed simple golden bands on each other’s hand, promising to meet soon as they were able. She even gave him a clipping from her fingernail with express permission to have it turned into a Vivre Card. Hers would be safe with him, they agreed, but his would no doubt be discovered by Luffy and that was an entire other bag of cats they didn’t want opened quite yet. After returning their hearts to one another, Law and Robin left the okiya separately, finding their respective crews in the middle of departure prepwork. It was easy to settle back into their normal roles, and yet it hurt as they failed to acknowledge their newly-established connection.

In the end, they did a damn good job in Tokage Port pretending they weren’t tearing themselves up inside trying to act as though there was nothing between them, to the point Law snapped at Chopper.

It was nothing—they were just two members of a dissolved alliance continuing on their separate ways. Far as anyone else knew, they were cordial at-best. A couple of their crewmates seemed to notice something was different, but if they did, they said nothing and figured it was their imaginations.

Good.

The more distance that seemed between them, the safer they were going to stay.

…and hell they wanted to keep one another safe.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Robin looked in the mirror at her new haircut, hoping it was going to have the intended effect once they arrived at Elbaf. She caught sight of Bonney peeking over her shoulder, causing her to smile.

“Are you sure you want to stay on Elbaf?” she asked. The young girl nodded.

“I miss being in one place right now,” Bonney replied. “Besides, Lilith says she can help my dad wake up, and I wanna be there when it happens.”

“I can understand that,” Robin nodded. She felt Bonney’s arms wrap around her shoulders as the girl leaned against her. “Saul wasn’t a father figure, but he was still an important adult to me when I was small—being there with him will make us both more than happy.”

“That’s nice.” Bonney then went quiet, hanging off of Robin. She made a noise, alerting her adult that something was on the girl’s mind.

“Thoughts?”

“Well…” Bonney let Robin pull her into her lap and cuddled in close at the contact. “What if Lilith and the rest of Vegapunk can’t help my dad? What do you think will happen then?”

“There are many options, I would imagine,” Robin said. “You could… stay on Elbaf with the giants and Miss Lilith—I’m sure they wouldn’t kick you out. There is also the option of going back to your homeland, if it is still there…”

“It is, but there’s a lot of old people there and I don’t want them to be in any more danger just because of me,” Bonney frowned. She then had an idea. “Oooh, can I stay with you? You know, after you’re done pirating?!”

“You’d have to ask my husband, but something tells me he’d say yes,” Robin smirked. Bonney looked over at the rest of the crew as they were huddled by the opposite side of the ship, talking to their giant benefactors. “No, no—he’s not on the crew, but has his own. We plan to meet again later—he’s wearing the matching pair to this.” She showed the girl the ring looped into a chain around her neck, sitting low enough to hide under her clothes; not many of her crewmates had noticed, and none had mentioned it.

“I didn’t know you were married.”

“Not many people do, so consider it a secret between us girls.” Robin gave Bonney a wink and the girl giggled. “He’s a friend of the crew, so I know no one would be upset when they learn who he is, but right now everyone is running on a need-to-know basis about a lot of things, so I’m sure they won’t mind if we break the news later once we’re done with our adventure.”

“Oh, okay,” Bonney nodded. “What’s he like? Your husband?” She then gasped, horrified. “He won’t try to be my dad, will he?! I already have one of those!”

“Something tells me he won’t be unless you ask,” Robin replied. “He’s a bit prickly at first, and you might not get along, but once you get to know him and he knows you, I imagine you’ll be good friends.”

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah; he’s younger than me, so he’d be more of an older brother to you than a father anyhow. He’s like me and doesn’t have a home to go back to… he’s like us in that the World Government ruined his life as a child too. He’s also best friends with a bear.”

“A bear?! Does it talk?!”

“He’s a Mink, so of course he talks.”

“Wow!” Bonney seemed to have stars in her eyes as she thought about the prospect of meeting a talking bear. “When do you think I can meet them?!”

“In time,” Robin chuckled. “Is that what you want to do, then? Stay with my husband and me if your father can’t be switched back?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Bonney said. “I know you said he’d be more a brother, but if I’m with the two of you, it’d be close enough to having both a mom and dad at once—my mom died when I was very little, so I don’t remember her. It wouldn’t be the same, but that’s what playing pretend is, isn’t it? Oh! Are you going to have kids?! Do you have them already?! Does the bear babysit them?! I wanna babysit! I’ve always wanted to babysit!”

“We’ll see,” Robin replied with a chuckle. “Babies need to happen first before you can babysit.”

“Well, yeah, because otherwise I’d be babysitting your captain and that’s redundant, isn’t it?” Bonney scowled. Robin choked down a laugh—not quite there, but close enough—and knew they’d do well to keep the young girl around. “What…? You know I’m right.”

“I never said you weren’t.” She caught sight of the rest of her crew celebrating something out the corner of her eye; land must have been within their sights. “Why don’t you go see what they’re making a big fuss about, hm?”

“Okay!” Bonney ran off to see what was going on, leaving Robin to smile privately to herself, allowing the wind to rustle her hair as she thought about the future that Bonney envisioned, fueled by her youthful optimism and Devil Fruit of possibilities. She could imagine Law bickering with the tween as an elder brother would snipe with a younger sister, the trio passing even younger children between them in a well-worked routine, while the sweet and darling Bepo arrived and relieved the elder family members so they could go to school and work and… it didn’t seem like such a bad life.

Now it was simply about making it for long enough to see if it could become a reality.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Finally on dry land, Bepo laid on his back in the sand as he attempted to catch his breath. It had taken him all he had, plus another Rumble Ball, to get his captain to safer waters, and now there they were: no ship, no crew, and no way back to either. He wasn’t even certain how long he had been swimming, other than that at least a day had passed. If he had been anything but someone who could swim, they’d both be dead by now.

“How are you doing, Captain?” the Mink asked between deep breaths. He looked over at Law, who was laying on his side, just as he’d taught his crew to place unresponsive patients. “Where do you think we are? I didn’t get a good look at the chart before we left.”

Silence.

“Okay…” Bepo strained to roll over onto his hands and knees, forcing himself to his feet. “Let me see what I can do.” He pulled Law onto his shoulder and began to trudge into the nearby foliage, hoping to find someone who could help.

As it turned out, no one was in sight before Bepo collapsed in a small glen, absolutely exhausted. After a while more of laying still, he repositioned Law again and got to work, building a small fire with some twigs and a spark of Electro. A berry bush was nearby and he picked enough to keep them both going, holding his captain’s portion in a deep leaf he used as a bowl. He then waited, hoping his unconscious best friend would wake up soon.

…and he waited…

…and he waited…

…and waited…

…until suddenly, Law jerked violently as he coughed and choked on seawater, vomiting in the soft grass beneath him. Bepo rubbed his back as his body purged the offending substance, waiting patiently until even his dry heaving ceased before handing him the leaf full of berries.

“Here—you’ll feel better.”

Law took the food and shifted closer to Bepo, away from the pool of bile and seawater. He leaned against the bear’s arm as he ate, carefully eating the berries one by one.

“Where are we?”

“Not sure; it’s likely none of the islands the others went to, I can tell that much.”

“…and the crew…?”

“I don’t know—it was just my job to get you out of there.” He let that settle between them—it was back to the two of them, no matter how much they wanted otherwise. “What do we do?”

“See if there’s any survivors, pick up what’s left, mourn those who didn’t make it,” Law decided. He chewed on a berry in thought. “That island won’t matter to Blackbeard now that he thinks he defeated me—whomever survived is probably still there. I’m sure it’s safe to go back.”

“How can we?” Bepo wondered. “It was pure luck that I found this island, let alone reached it. Without charts and a ship, we can’t get back there… not easily.”

“I didn’t say it’d be easy, but it might be easier than it looks if we take into account every resource at our disposal.” Law opened a Room and used it to pull out a space in his chest, from which he procured a rolled up scrap of paper that was held together by a golden metal band. He slid the paper out and gave it to Bepo, who looked at it curiously. “Vivre Card.”

“Okay, but for who?”

“That should lead us to Nico Robin of the Straw Hat Pirates,” Law explained. “She will help, and her help comes with her crew’s help.”

“What makes you think Miss Robin will help?” Bepo asked. He watched as Law stared at the ring for a moment before slipping it onto his left hand, specifically on the fourth finger.

“…because I married her,” he admitted. He heard Bepo inhale sharply and he felt a pang of guilt. “I know Nico Robin will help us because I am her husband.”

“When… when did this happen…?” Bepo’s voice sounded hurt; he should have been given the news a different way.

“It was… sudden,” Law said. “There was an actual priest in Wano… someone who knew traditions that weren’t that far off from Flevance’s. I would have told you sooner if we had found some time alone, but as you can see…”

“…this is the first time we could talk in private,” Bepo realized. The bear exhaled heavily—nothing he could do now. “I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not upset I wasn’t there, but I am glad it happened. Even before… you know… you left… didn’t really think it was gonna happen. Now it has, and Penguin and Shachi are going to be jealous.”

“If they’re even around anymore.”

“You know they won’t die that easy!” Bepo gave his captain a big grin. “Now let’s see if we can find your wife so she can help us get a hold of our crew again!”

Law cracked the bare semblance of a grin for the first time in a long time; that didn’t sound so bad at all. Yeah… not bad in the slightest.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: I had known from the get-go that Law’s disguise was somewhat modeled after komuso, traveling monks who played the flute for alms and wore baskets on their head for anonymity. These practitioners of a Zen Buddhist sect (Fuke Zen) were eventually one of the few people able to freely pass checkpoints in feudal Japan—an extremely rare privilege—leading to it being a good (possible?) disguise for spies and informants, which can show up in historically-set Japanese works from time to time. Something that I, the ignorant Westerner, found interesting while doing research for this is that one of the individuals who is claimed to be a predecessor of Fuke Zen is a man named Ikkyu, who was a significant (and eccentric) figure in Japanese Zen history. He was a renown flute player, artist, calligrapher… and also was very outspoken against the celibacy placed on monks and priests, considering sex to be part of human nature, therefore pure, and believed that engaging in it in many forms would lead one towards enlightenment. Something tells me that’s not part of the Ikkyu-san children’s anime Toei made in the 1970s and 1980s, ahaha.

I will also always be intrigued by the fact that Oda utilized the concept of fumi-e and the practice’s purpose of rooting out unwanted allegiances in One Piece, because as far as I can tell (and please correct me if I’m wrong), that was only really used to identify Christians from when the shogunate made Christianity illegal (another thing I saw in the manga and immediately went into Leo-pointing-meme mode). This means that one can presumably figure that if there’s Christian/Catholic symbolism and imagery in other parts of the world, Wano could have their own version of the Kakure Kirishitan as the series’s analogue to isolation-era shogunate Japan. It’s been driving me nuts since the Fish-man Island Arc first came out in Japan and it’s only gotten worse over the years. Granted, Oda tends to take from plenty of world religions/cultures/traditions and lots of Japanese manga-ka enjoy the striking visual aesthetics of Christianity/Catholicism, but sometimes things are just too overt concerning my own religion for me to brush off. Crosses and nuns and churches and the foretold Return of the Chosen Savior? Par the course; Japan loves that shit. Noah’s Ark (twice!) and the forbidden fruit granting the consumer a new ability that casts them from favor and the concept of God vs gods and winged, flaming Seraphim and a man living in a whale and naming a pair of characters Sodom and Gomorrah? Those are varied levels of less-to-rarely-found references and I’m staring at this manga and its creator wondering what’s going to happen next. Did someone Joyboy didn’t quite know have a bunch of insane-ass visions and write their own Book of Revelations? Where the fuck is Golgotha? Will the seas be parted? Is Luffy going to ascend to a higher state of being, body and all? Is the reason we don’t know who his mom is because she already did that? You’re killing me, Oda.

[toskarin]

how did you get started making music, tools-wise?

I've talked about this a bit before and I don't necessarily recommend doing this, so skip the following two paragraphs and go right to the one under the break if you actually want the method I recommend

I lied to a girl I liked from my school and told her that, because I could play guitar I could also play piano, so I could teach her to play piano. both of these statements were lies.

I had to panic and learn both guitar and piano one week ahead of the lessons I was giving her as an excuse to hang out. so I self-taught in a haze of panic and "maybe she'll like me" (she did not) (but she kind of did) (but she was bicurious) (but she was wishy-washy on if she wanted to get together and her parents didn't like me) (and her parents were homophobic) (I think she might have texted me at one point years down the line to tell me she had a girlfriend but it was after I deleted our text history and I'm chronically unable to remember to put people's names into my contacts so who knows)

but that's all an aside. that's a bad method.

anyway if you want to start making music in earnest, doing what I did when I got serious about making songs instead of trying to impress girls whose parents wanted to destroy me with their minds here's a better answer

go acquire FL Studio. it's apparently really easy to do this because people have been acquiring it for years, or so I've heard. FL is good for learning because you've got 20 years worth of free tutorials available to you on youtube to dig through and plenty of stock vsts to play with out of the box

FL Studio is, realistically, the only tool you actually need to start making music. you could get away with less, but it's what I used, and as long as you don't pick up Specific Bad Habits, your experience with it will transfer to other DAWs if you decide to switch it later

that's all, really

if you go this route, the golden rule I'm going to impart on you right now is that you need to have a limiter on your songs. the default FL studio song templates have one, so you should keep it until you know enough to know why you might adjust something like that

it doesn't matter if it sounds fine in the editor without a limiter. everyone thinks it's not a big deal at the time, but as you get more experienced, there's literally nothing short of getting in legal trouble that you'll regret more than realising that your old work is almost entirely unsalvageable because you didn't put a limiter on it and now half of the audio is just lost data to clipping

I'm gonna put a few more recommendations for things I've used, just so you can consider them if you need something else to chew on. everything past this point is entirely optional and you'll do just fine with FL Studio alone. in fact, probably don't worry about everything below the line

-=-

items marked with [F] are free.

DIGITAL AUDIO WORKSTATIONS THAT AREN'T FL

for tracker-based editing and chiptunes, use Renoise. you'll either love or hate trackers, and while they have a steeper learning curve than piano roll DAWs, they might come more naturally to you. I personally think that Renoise is a lot of fun to use. it kinda has an "addictive" quality to it, as funny as that is to say

for quickly sketching songs, use [F]Jummbox. it's an html workstation (multiplatform!) that writes your sketches to a url, meaning it's pretty easy to collaborate on musical sketches. Jummbox is good for making chiptune style instrumentals, but what makes it especially accessible is the fact that it works on a piano roll system, which will be familiar to you if you're working in FL

for writing sheet music, I recommend starting with [F]Musescore. I'll warn you right now that there aren't really any good notation editors and you're making lesser-of-evils decisions when you pick any of them, but it's probably the best compromise out there right now. it's the one I use when I need to hand something to a physical musician. you can also export pieces as midi, although there's better ways to do that lol

-

VSTs

if you can acquire Pianoteq, do that. if you feel uncomfortable with acquiring it, [F]Keyzone Classic is free and can sound pretty nice with a bit of work, but you really have to learn to work with it

if your workstation can handle it performance-wise, go pick up [F]Vital - Spectral Warping Wavetable Synth. there's tons of free presets for this out there and it sounds good. cool synth. Serum: Advanced Wavetable Synthesizer is also good and has plenty of presets, but it's on the pricy side, so consider how comfortable you are with [finding a friend to buy it for you]

[F]Decent Sampler doesn't do much out of the box, because it's just a tool for playing sample banks, but if you go to [F]Pianobook, you can find tons of weird and fun sample packs of just about everything you can imagine. sounds derived from folk instruments, industrial equipment, lego sets, stylophones, choirs, whatever. incredibly useful.

Valhalla VintageVerb. this is the reverb plugin. you want this one. [F]Valhalla Super Massive is also good but it's more focused on alien-sounding reverb effects and enormous spaces, so it's kind of got a niche use case and you should be a little careful with it

if you've heard a lo-fi hip hop song on youtube, it probably used [F]iZotope Vinyl. this one can save you a lot of time if you're going for that sound because it comes with all the little vinyl flourishes outside of compression (like dust crackling) that you'd otherwise have to add yourself

[F]Genny VST is advertised as giving a genesis/megadrive sound, but what actually makes it shine is that it's an actual synth emulating the YM2612 and SN76489 sound chips. this means you can create your own sounds that work within those specs, which is a lot of fun! definitely beats just using samples, if you ask me

-

HARSH VSTS THAT I PERSONALLY LIKE BUT WHICH ALSO MIGHT !!HURT!! YOU. SO BE VERY CAREFUL USING THESE.

[F]Tritik Krush is a bitcrushing plugin. it does a good job of bitcrushing and downsampling. I use it a lot in my songs, but you've really gotta know how to keep this one under control, because it's fully capable of making painful sounds on accident and can completely devour your mix

[F]FSA Latcher is a gorgeous noisebox. it screams in horrible ways and makes dying machine noises in various colours. this is the musical equivalent of working with radioactive material, so be extremely careful using this in anything you don't want to hurt the listener's ears

girlfriend just told me I have to recommend [F]Noise Engineering Ruina to you if I'm making a category with this heading. I don't personally use it, but she likes it (she's better at music than I am) and it's free, so you should go pick it up. "it annihilates sounds very deliciously" (maybe I should use it)

-

hope that helps a bit!

[i-still-dont-know-a-username]

A ramble about things in Ghost Quartet that make me go insane

recently relistened to it and I'm going slightly mad about it. So here goes. Apologies for the long post!

The arrows indicate a link, not chronology.

CYCLICAL NATURE

The implication that Fairytale comes after Midnight (Rose coming to the treehouse "hasn't happened yet", and she and the Subway Driver will have two daughters.) The beginning is the end, and the end is the beginning. Rose struggles with the things she did, and things she failed to stop (in Hero), and she makes peace with her sister/lover/mother/child/friend. But the story will end with her killing her sister in a drunken rage. That's how it started, after all.

The violin sings the story of Pearl's death -> Scheherazade tells stories to Dunyazade, and even to Rose Red, though she doesn't have much stardust left. -> the Camera Shop owner tells Rose the story -> Lady Usher reads Roxie a story before bed -> when Roxie dies, the only thing that soothes her were stories. Perhaps a reminder that this has all happened before, and so it will happen again. -> "I saw Rose. Back from the dead."

MOON/WATER AND STAR/VOID SYMBOLISM

Roxie danced on the edge of a star. -> "I want to dance. I want to gaze at the stars." -> "Never take the stars away from me!"(sung by Rose) -> "Rose is a freaking starchild!" -> "The starlight I see is a billion lightyears old. A ghost just like the rest of us." -> "What kind of dead guy would you be?" "I'd be a ghost!" -> "Never take the stars away from me!" (sung by Pearl)

also: the Astronomer doesn't believe in ghosts (stars). He claims to understand the stars, but gets the astronomical facts wrong. When he looks up, he is "certain of the universe" (yet leaves a nightlight on, unable to face the darkness without little lights) -> "I'm not some fucking logic puzzle for you to figure out!" -> "I will try to forgive myself for being absent in public, and bored before stars."

Also: "Rose believes in the restorative properties of the ocean" -> she baptized Starchild/herself in the sea. And by virtue of her name alone, Pearl is linked to water. Pearl White and Rose Red gathered salt in the moonlight (but Rose longed to be up, closer to the stars)

"My head was filled with stories of swimming and singing on the moon" -> Pearl White was, or will be, drowned. -> "my joy got bloated and sick" -> When she's dying, Roxie's hair floats "in front" of her face. How can this be if she's laying down? It's like she's weightless. Underwater. Drowning, perhaps. -> (young Roxie describing death) "Because now, theres just an eternity of soul! And swimming!"

MUSIC/ART SYMBOLISM (AND TIME)

Pearl tends to sing, as the narrator. Rose tends to dance, as the one who put the story in motion. She asks others to dance with her.

In Tango Dancer, Pearl/Scheherazade tries to initiate a dance, but gets rejected by her younger self "But myself didn't have time for me. Didn't have time for anyone so used up" -> as the Soldier: "I won't come back to haunt you. I won't have the time." -> but when Dunyazade asks her to dance, she accepts.

The Astronomer doesn't practice enough, though he wishes to sing. The piano is described by some as the easiest instrument to learn, but the hardest to master -> "If that's how long it takes, I'm afraid I just haven't got the time!" -> yet, as David/the Subway Driver, he serenades Thelonius Monk every night. He dances with Rose, too.

Pearl's breastbone sings of Wind and Rain (word of god says that a reincarnation of the Bear made the instrument) -> Lady Usher can only bear the sound of stringed instruments -> the Son in House of Usher plays the cello and guitar-> they make music together -> "we don't need moons or stars or God! We have the wind, the terrible wind!" (And rain!) -> "You're a really good cello player, Brent." "Thanks. I practice a lot."

[just-an-emily-existing]

“Every year on the date of the accident, it runs again, plunging into the river like a lost soul!”

What she looked like when she was alive

TW: BLOOD, ARROW THROUGH CHEST, NSFW HEADCANONS (They’ll be highlighted in red)

Headcanons and more below!

🩶✨Cadogan Jennings Fletcher✨🩶

Element: Air

Birthday: June 1st 1860

Real Age: 165

Age she plays by: She sticks to her real age with pride

Age and year when she died: 33 on October 23 1893

Zodiac: Gemini

Chinese Horoscope: Monkey

Spirit Animal: Kookaburra

Height: 6'2

Sexuality: Pansexual and Hypersexual

Gender: Demigirl

Pronouns: She/They

Personality Type: ESFP

IQ: 97

Nicknames: Dogan, Cad, Old Silver, Old girl

Allergies: None

Disabilities: She had a bit of a limp when she was alive in both her engine and human form.

Right or Left Handed: Left

Quirks/Habits: Biting Fingers, Twirling her hair, her ghost tail acts like a cat's tail and is never still.

Home Town: Lowca, England

Nationality: British

Siblings: Skarloey is her next of kin and the only one she remembers.

Original Driver: Can’t remember

Original Fireman: Can't remember

Who is the most important person in her life: Skarloey

Person he looks up to the most: Alfred

Best Friend: Darrell

Lover: Darrell

Rival: Godred

If she could have a superpower it would be: Future Vision

If she was a human, what job would she have: Engineer (building engines)

Biggest Fear: That Skarloey will be hurt

Biggest Flaw: She easily becomes obsessed with those she “cares” about

Favorite Holiday: Halloween

Favorite Animal: Squirrel

Favorite Hobby: Scaring the living

Favorite Color: Red

Favorite Food: None

Favortie Drink: Water

Least Favorite Food: None

Favorite Season: Summer

Favorite Movie: None

Favorite Book: None

Favorite Singer/Artist: None

Very skilled at: Possessing the living

Least skilled at: Talking with the living

Greatest Achievement: She got revenge on her controller who sent her for scrap and drove him to insanity so he killed himself

Pet Peeves: People who don’t take her seriously

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert

Organized or Messy: Messy

Is she good at singing: No

Can she bake: No

Can she cook: For some reason she's good at cooking small animals like rodents, squirrels, birds, ect.

Does she play any sports: No

Instrument: Violin

Headcanons

Used to be very friendly but became more bitter and stressed as her life went on.

Has always wanted to be a mother.

She would give train rides for kids and would act like Duncan, rocking the train and making it more fun for them.

Has explored the whole island as a ghost and wished she could be a standard gauge engine.

Can only speak to Skarloey directly.

Every year on the date of the accident, she's forced to relive her traumatising death by some force of the gods. This has driven her to insanity.

Can't pull the arrow out of her chest but can move it around.

The world looks grey and fuzzy for her except for the river and bridge.

She owned a dog that passed away until it ran away never to be seen again.

When she was alive she had terrible insomnia and now that she’s a ghost, she doesn’t/can't sleep anymore.

Has nightmares whenever she sleeps as a ghost.

Has a very strange laugh.

She hates being alone, she can’t deal with her thoughts so she distracts herself with socialisation.

She doesn’t know how to read or write.

Has always been curious about human s*x and learned what it was when she was young. She’s always heavily craved the touch of humans ever since.

As a ghost, she would possess anyone and use their body for her own s**ual desires. It’s never enough though.

Motto: Stop following the rules, you'll die anyway

🩶Theme Songs🩶

Bury a Friend - Billie Eilish

Pacify Her - Melanie Martinez

[estuaryghoul]

Ghoul Summoning Lore

The ghouls come from Hell, obviously. Copia was never really sure of the process, at least before he starting leading the band. He was only a Cardinal, he didn't ask questions (lie, he always asked questions lmao). Turns out the process was rather horrifying, especially once he realized Terzo had been right about how /human the ghouls are. Imperator always said they were animals, less even. Terzo's infatuation with them disgusted her. But she was wrong.

They took them as children, Copia learned. He was still unsure of of who They were, but that didn't matter. They were brought to a place in Hell known as The Factory, manmade, at least hypothetically. Here they are trained. Forced to walk upright, be obedient, silent. Master their elemental instrument, but supress the element. They are kept tightly bound (magically), their minds a total fog. The Factory feels like a dream, but also an unending cycle that lasts aeons.

There are two kinds of ghoul, ministry and band. Three if you counted Phil, enigmatic bastard. The ministry are moulded to become Sister's vision, practically inanimate objects. They cannot speak, cannot think, can only obey orders. They help with menial tasks around the church. There are not many, but it's hard to tell. They all look and act the same. Blank. Their eyes have no light, it never used to bother Copia, but once he began leading the band, seeing how lively they truly could be, it was like being surrounded by moving corpses. Probably the creepiest part about them, besides their silent appearances behind you, was their... room. It wasn't a bedroom, more of an old storage room or armory or /something. It was a windowless hall where they were kept when not at use. They would stand in silent, orderly lines. Like a room of mannequins. Looming eerily in the darkness, the only movement the tracking of their dull eyes as Copia passed through. He knew they only watched out of obedience, waiting for orders, but it was creepy as fuck. He avoided that hall.

The band ghouls however, while he was lead to believe they were the same, were very different. Sister said they were like animatronics on stage, just objects pretending to be human, but even she knew that was a lie. They had /personality. They didn't stand silently and unmoving while waiting for band practice to begin, instead silently looking at one enough, tending to their instruments, even messing with each other. Some of them would even playfully ignore Copia's instructions, averting their eyes and flicking their tails slyly. Honestly it was kind of like hearding cats when they got bored, though a visit from Sister or one of her Board was quick to straighten them out. Still however, they could not talk. Hisses, small vocalizations, growls, yes, but words? Nothing. Only the backup singers could "speak", whispery voices that sounded like an eery mimicking of human speech without Copia's voice over it. But still, unless they were singing, they could not speak.

Music has life, soul. It is an expression of one's self, a way to connect unique to itself. Perhaps that affects the ones playing it, writing it. Perhaps the soul must be freed more than the opressor would like, for the tool to be used. Phil didn't like to speak clearly, preferring to answer questions with questions, long-winding riddles, opaque references. It was a puzzle to speak to him, which Copia secretly enjoyed. He didn't treat him like he was stupid, wouldn't hold his hand to lead him to an answer. If you wanted to understand, truly, you must think for yourself. Phil would provide pieces, you must put them together yourself.

Phil himself was an outlier. If one didn't know, they would assume he was a member of the human staff. The only thing that gave it away was the ghoul mask he wore, just like the others. Copia had never seen his face, but he had heard the long pointed mask was based off of it, though that was legend that Phil pointedly would neither confirm nor deny. He was Imperator's right hand man, the band manager, a connection between human and demon. He was the first to be summoned, before The Factory, before the band. A crossroads demon, the story went, who Imperator managed to trap. Bound to an eternity of service to the church. He was the only ghoul allowed to speak, but that did little for him. Everything he said, heard, did, saw, was subject to be reported back to Imperator. She owned him, he was her spy. Nobody trusted him, not even her. Copia thought this was bullshit however, Imperator had left him with the ghoul while she worked far too many times as a child, and he had grown attached to the curt bastard. He has taught him chess when he was six, by ruthlessly beating him over and over until he learned to strategize. Always encouraged him to read, expand his mind, ask questions. Even when talking to that long-ago child, Phil was not clear. He didn't dumb down his sentences, didn't make his puzzles any easier to understand. It was rewarding to have a conversation with him, Copia felt. When the pieces finally clicked, it felt like winning a game. He was the only one who felt this way. Sister was eternally frustrated with the lack of clarity from her so-called spy. His forced nature as an earpiece was dangerous, no doubt. Many things made it back to her that others would've preferred to die in secret, but when things mattered, when Copia asked questions he shouldn't have... Somehow the answers were cleverly twisted when reporting to hide his secrets. Phil pretended not to care about anything or anyone, but Copia was almost certain he at least has a soft spot for him and the band. Yeah, maybe he had a hand in ruthlessly killing them off when Imperator's whims changed, but just maybe...

[dreamstate4you]

Pilot.

Chapter 0.1.

Omashu

"So this crazy king is your old friend Bumi?' Katara asked curiously.

King Bumi turned to face the water tribe girl with an offended look, "Who are you calling old?"

...

"Okay, I'm old."

"Why did you do all of this instead of just telling Aang who you were?" Sokka still irritated by the fact that they were stuck in the rock Candy

"First of all, it's pretty fun messing with people." King Bumi snorted. "But I do have a reason." The atmosphere shifted to a serious tone.

"Aang, you have a difficult task ahead. The world has changed in the hundred years that you've been gone. It's the duty of the Avatar to restore balance to the world by defeating Fire Lord Ozai. You have much to learn. You must master the four elements and confront the Fire Lord. And when you do, I hope you will think like a mad genius." the kind looked around at his friend's "And it looks like you're in good hands. You'll need your friends to help defeat the Fire Nation." Bumi took a pause as Momo climbed on him. 

"Thanks Bumi." Aang replied enthusiastically with a smile.

"Oh and before you leave." Two neatly dressed ladies came out holding a plate." Take these"

Bumi took the papers from the plates of the two ladies, revealing them to be tickes.

" What are these?" Sokka asked. 'Where these slips of money used in omashu or what?' He thought to himself as his eyes shined with greed.

"They are VIP tickets to see the performer Venti. I bought some for myself ,but I guess I bought to much." Bumi let out a giggle. " Now please go, trust me you don't want to miss the show." Bumi waved his hands dismissing the group. He started walking back to his castle room. Laughing along and muttering words no one could hear.

The three teens were left standing together Wondering why they were given tickets to see a performer.

" Well we better get going the show is starting at noon." Katara said as he looked at the tickets they were given.

The three arrived just in time for the open festival , a moment could be spared to buy snacks from the vindors. Aang and Sokka immediately moved to the food section.

One particular food that caught Katara's attention was on shaped of a cloud and arrows coming from the four sides of the could, creating a star in the middle.

"Hey aang look." Katara called out to show aang the interesting food, while sokka was already with a crowd of people anxious eating the food he bought as he waited for the performance in the front row.

"Hey it kinda looks like Appa." Aang whispered as he was handed the cloud cookie, but still loud for katara to hear.

Before katara could answer, sounds of people cheering could be heard, as tall men in Earth bending uniforms came marching behind each other in a neatly formed like. Aang and katara both rushed to join the crowd not wanting to miss a second of the show.

The three men on each side started stomping each of their feet hard enough that the stage started shaking. The instrument started playing from each side of the stage. In the middle a tall, tanned girl dressed in luxurious silks of the earth kingdom emerged. Her long black hair put in an elegant braid that could almost touch the floor.

The moment in that instant, Aang felt the colour drain from his face. The clothes the woman wore were the ones that most women from the Eastern Air template wore. Sure the colour had been green ,but Aang recognized those clothes. The women of the eastern air temple would often visit the southern temple so Aang wasn't a stranger to them.

Questions started to gather in Aang's mind. He wondered how this performer manage to get such sacred clothes.

The voice of the woman brought him back to focus on what was happening.

" Aang are you okay?" Katara asked for Aang's weird behavior. She watched as he looked mostly zoned out.

"Yeah I'm fine" Aang dismissed Katara.

Bringing his attention back to the performance the girl danced with grace as the earth benders created temples and figures of people behind her.

Now that Aang focused on the background dances and not on the main performer he noticed how the temples the earthbender's were bending resembles that of the Western Air temples. The temples were hanging upside down and kept popping out of the sandy wall before being pulled back into the wall by the bender's abilities.

"Wait this song." Aang jumped up almost airbendering into the air.

"Yeah?" Katara asked next to him " it is nice isn't it." She said with a smile on her face. Her face focusing back on the main dancer.

" No its just. IT SOUNDA LIKE... THE AIRBENDERS LULLYBY!"

Aang screamed earning weird looks for the people around him. He knew this song, the tempo and rhythm it had. The song would be hummed around the temples, it had no words so young monks would often make up their own words, allowing for creativity to form, but every monk and nun would always include a small line about clouds that held the ability to fly and taught the Airbender how to fly

.

.

.

.

After the performance. The two immediately went to find Sokka who was on the front of the crowd and crying his heart out.

" That was beautiful." He said between sobs.

"Come on! I need to go talk to that Performer guys." Aang quickly walked infront of the group. Walking backstage to what seemed like a big white tent. He noticed the earthbender's who were in the background chilling on the side of the tent.

Before they could enter they were stopped ,by earth bending guards.

"Hey, what are doing. Let us through." Aang protested

"We can't let you through without a pass." One of the guards answered.

" Please this is very important, you see He is the Avatar and he needs to personally thank the performer for her amazing performance." Katara tried to reason with them earning no reaction from the gaurds.

"Hey!" Sokka shouted from the back. He confidently walked towards the gaurds handing them the ticket that king Bumi gave them. The gurads inspected what Sokka was holding and let him pass.

Aang and Katara quickly did the same. Katara embarrassed about how she didn't think of that.

Inside the tent that was set up We're multiple papers and books scattered around. People inside were also chatting and laughing among themselves, but they weren't here for the after celebration. They were here to talk to the performer, Venti.

After the performance Aang started acting weird and had not said those many words to the two siblings. It seemed that the performance struck something inside him. Sokka too had the performance stuck in his head. He kept rumbling on about how he needs to fly on a magic cloud in the desert then his life goals would have been almost complete.

After some time of asking where they could find the performer. They finally found her.

She was inside another tent, a taller tent that resmbeled a watching tower from the outside, but her tent had no flooring. She was barefoot in the sand and stretching her legs.

"Ah, visitors." She quickly stood up properly. Her hands put to her side as she looked at the three infront of her. "You must have either paid a lot of money to personally see me or have good connections." She said with a hint of an accent.

"Yes, you see this is the Av-" Before Katara could finish Aang inturpted.

" How do you know that song!? WHERE DID YOU GET THOSE CLOTHES!? HOW DO YOU KNOW THESE DANCES?!"

Aang put on his most threatening voice and face he could. ( Which just ended up making him look less threatening.)

... " I got them from... A vendor. Yes a seller-" before the performer could answer Aang once again disturbed.

" YOU'RE LYING. NO ONE WOULD EVER SELL THOSE-" This seem to be a trend to interfere with another persons conversation , because Katara softly pushed Aang to the side.

"Excuse us. You see he." Katara motioned to   Aang who was now on the floor. " He is the Avatar and we would really like to know where you got your knowledge from."

...

"HE'S THE AVATAR!" The young performer seemed to have lost any elegance she had as she figured out the new information. Reacting in the same way Aang was acting earlier.

The performer dashed to the boy on the ground at a ridiculous speed that shocked Sokka.

Venti bent down to help the young Avatar from the floor and looked like she was about to say something before she stopped.

"Wait, how do I really know your the Avatar?" She pointed at Aang.

Aang simply didn't respond and jumped high in the air touching the highest point of the tent and came down ,but not touching the grass, clearly still using his bending to keep him afloat.

The young girl gasped before she also jumped into the air, descending down at a slow rate, she also kept herself afloat for a few more seconds before finally reaching the ground with a smile on her face.

.

.

.

Sokka was the first to faint... Then Aang.

This performer is definitely an Airbender

[midnight--sadness]

some more found family cuteness to distract myself from thinking about season 3:

watching semi play games made inho find out that you can play old NES and sega genesis games on the newer consoles. he used to play these all the time when younger :') growing up he loved dragon quest, mega man 2, and streets of rage. he'll borrow semi's nintendo switch so he can go through a myriad of old games, just to relive memories and wind down after a busy day at the office (gihun finds this so cute~)

gayeong loves the very hungry caterpillar book ever since she was a toddler (gihun read it to her every night 🥺), and has an entire collection from keychains to mugs relating to the tiny caterpillar 🐛

cheol is currently going through a guitar phase. he really, really wants to learn how to play an instrument or become a musician! so he practices everyday. then when he finally gets to play for others; "anyways, here's wonderwall-"

gihun trying to get back into applying makeup on himself like he used to back in the 90's. luckily there are lots of variety in products now than it used to be! maybe some pressed powder foundation, simple winged eyeliner, and a red lip <3 audrey hepburn style <333 (inho falls even deeper in love with him~)

BASEBALL DAEHO BASEBALL DAEHO!! PLAYING WITH UNCLE JUNGBAE ⚾️🏟️🧢 THAT KID IS GONNA BE A STAR. oh related to the above ^^^^ point about gihun and makeup - you know daeho would always help out with setting spray or fixing it a little more and he'd be like "🥺 mom, you look very beautiful"

YESS PLEASE SEND ALL THE HC FOR OUR LITTLE FAMILY 🥹💖

these are all so cute i'm crying

u know cheol only took up the guitar bc thanos likes music too, what with his rapping, and he was hoping to perform with his brother. thanos is so touched by this that he writes a song just for cheol and it is, to this day, his most successful song.

inho sets up a console in their bedroom and their night time routine is gihun watching asmr videos and inho playing video games.

gihun with makeup 😩🙏 he goes shopping with the girls and daeho and finally gets up the courage to try some out himself! AND DAEHO SAYING HE LOOKS BEAUTIFUL MY SWEET BABY BOY 😭😭😭😭😭

jiyeong has always liked dressing up and extravagant makeup but never feels confident enough to walk around with it, so gihun lets her dress and style him however she wants! it really inspired her and she ends up becoming a fashion designer or stylist 🥰

[jomiddlemarch]

the best judge of your own happiness

Robert Martin stood in complete silence in the sitting room. It was not the companionable quiet Harriet had grown used to that often followed a good dinner with plenty of gravy for the roast, plenty of custard for the pie, nor the despairing absence she’d observed but rarely when he lost a calf in a birthing gone awry, the night’s hard labor a waste, but something all its own, not unlike the shock when he’d seen her after a visit to Hartfield in her retrimmed bonnet, her hair cunningly arranged in the latest fashion, a reticule dangling from her gloved wrist.

“I’m sure she meant well, Mrs. Knightley,” Harriet said finally, when it was apparent Robert wasn’t going to say anything. She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, a nervous gesture from her childhood no amount of reprimands had ever cured her of.

“Everyone always says she does, you most of all, Hattie,” he replied.

“It’s very generous of her,” Harriet said.

“If you wanted a pianoforte, I can afford one. We needn’t take Mrs. Knightley’s cast-offs,” Robert said.

“Don’t be offended,” Harriet said, moving closer to his side, craning her neck a bit to make sure she could hold his gaze. “She wasn’t trying to suggest we need charity. I’d simply remarked how lovely the old pianoforte was, how fondly I recalled listening to her play on so many rainy afternoons, when she was Miss Woodhouse and I was Miss Smith.”

“You miss those times. Being with her, fine ladies in a gentleman’s great house,” he said, his voice a little rough. He was offended and worse, he felt he wasn’t good enough, that she couldn’t hold him in high esteem, as she did Mr. Knightley, and so she did what she always did when he’d begun to castigate himself, even if he’d never use those words for it.

“I’m most perfectly, blissfully happy as Mrs. Robert Martin and I shouldn’t live at Hartfield or Donwell Abbey for anything,” she declared, catching hold of his hand and bringing it to her cheek.

“But you wanted a pianoforte, something elegant,” he said. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and reached over to take hold of her waist with his other hand. Perhaps ladies and gentlemen weren’t so familiar in their sitting rooms, but she pitied Mrs. Knightley if that lady didn’t have the benefit of such an affectionate embrace.

“Honestly, it was only something to say to her, Mrs. Knightley. I’d get so bored those afternoons, she always played music that was so dull and complicated, nothing like a lively country dance or a Scotch air, I nearly fell asleep. But she was so proud of the new pianoforte Mr. Knightley had bought her, she did go on about how thoughtful he’d been, how they’d play duets now, how gifted a musician he was,” Harriet said.

“And now we’ve a great hulking pianoforte neither of us wants taking up all the space in our sitting room and no way to get rid of it,” he replied. They both looked at the instrument crowding everything else in the room to the periphery, the two chairs they sat in of an evening at opposite ends.

“I could visit Mrs. Goddard and see if she wants it. I could tell Mrs. Knightley how happy it made me to think of the girls practicing their scales on its ivory keys, how perhaps a bit of her talent might rub off on any girl who was diligent enough,” Harriet said. 

“That’s an idea, Hattie. But you must learn to mind what you say and to whom,” he replied.

“I shall,” she said.

“I’ll help you,” he replied and kissed her, so thoroughly that even if she’d had breath left, she couldn’t think of a single word to utter.

Posted late (again, le sigh, this week...) for Janeuary 2025, Day 14, prompt: pianoforte

[hahanamegobrrrr]

my 2025 tickle art fight template!!

these oc’s all exist in the same universe (they’re in a band together and are best friends!) , so they would definitely tkl each other >:) if you are drawing them together, though, keep it in pairs of Jeremy & Max (romantic or platonic) and Sophie & Kai (platonic) :]

refs & info for them under the read more!!

~

this is Max, he’s 18! transmasc, he/they. he’s the vocalist in the band :D Max only has a tiny pinprick of clear sight near the left side of his vision. they can otherwise only see extremely blurry light and color, even with correction, so they’re legally blind :) Newt is a service animal! with Newt to guide him, he can live a pretty independent life! Max is a lee-leaning switch (but he is a MENACE when something prompts his ler moods LOL) favorite spots: tummy, ribs. neck and ears <3

~

Jeremy is 19! cis, he/him. he plays the guitar. he’s also Max’s boyfriend :D he’s been super interested in music his whole life, and he’s been playing guitar since he was 11 years old. Jeremy is a ler-leaning switch. He doesn’t really get lee moods, but he likes the sensation of being tickled and thinks it’s fun (plus he likes how happy Max gets when they get to wreck him LOL) favorite spots: armpits, sides, and lower back

~

Sophie is 19! cis, she/her. she plays the drums :D her friends convinced her to join band her freshman year of high school, and she started learning percussion there. it was love at first loud cymbal crash LOL. her floaty limbs function the same as any normal, attached ones, although the skin in between them is very sensitive (🤭). Sophie is a 50/50 switch, but she acts on her ler moods much more. she gets extremely embarrassed about being tickled unless she’s alone with someone she trusts a lot. favorite spots: hips, sides, and arms (especially in between the sections)

~

Kai is 18! transfemme, they/them. they play the bass :P they have some sort of unlabeled queer-platonic thing going on with Sophie LOL. they are extremely passionate about cheering on any other bass players at concerts they go to, because they think that bass players as a whole don’t get enough love 😔🙏 Kai is an ever-so-slightly lee-leaning switch, however their moods can swap around every 2 seconds at even the slightest of prompting LOL. favorite spots: tummy, thighs, and knees

more art of all of them playing their instruments and stuff together :D

~

here’s some sketches of them playing their instruments & with them together as a band! some of these are super rough but i don’t want to clean them up 🙏 LOL

also just as a psa for all of them, their tails are like cat tails! so they won't wag their tails if they're happy. their tails only swish around/twitch if they're agitated 🙏 if they're happy, their tails point up, and if they're sad/upset, they'll point down

its not a huge deal, it just personally bothers me when people draw them with their tails wagging like a dog's LOL

anyway, if anyone chooses to draw them, I hope you have fun!! I love them and they are my babies so i will squee with pure delight if I see art of any of them 😌😌