#Hope you like your stay

[aaronofithaca05]

A little introduction to me (updated)🌊⛵

Hi everyone I´m your host: Aaron of Ithaca; rest where ever you like! UTC: +2 (Peninsular Spain, western European summer Time )🏖

I identify as male while my pronouns are he/him.

I´m a marine biology college student but shitty poster first an foremost. I don´t have a problem having a civilized and researched conversation with anyone. I have an interest in the sea (if it´s Mediterranean better), music, geography and more.

I´m also a Winion (if you know, you know) and mythology nerd. The main topics of this blog are: Odysseus, The Epic Cycle and related works, Ancient Mediterranean cultures and geography. Also I may upload my own doodles and sketches, I´m not a professional artist. tag: aaron's doodles or aaron's sketches.

My interest are as follow: gardening, scuba diving and sailing, cooking, reading, hiking and...

Mindless scrolling of Epic the Musical and Graeco-Roman mythos daily.

Art by @wolfythewitch My musical taste is condensed in musicals, 70-2000's pop, rock and alt, but I also enjoy fan songs, heavy, punk, romantic and so much more, It's really rare If I like a Reggaetón song (It's not my fave genre). My favourite songs are "Mediterráneo" of Serrat and all from Epic: the musical!.

If i have an “a e s t h e t i c” is as fluid as water

Also like animal crossing, sky:cotl, Heathers, SIX (kinda new) etc…

Here's my skykid hugging a manta

My favourites foods are: migas, arroz de calamares o costillejas (calamari rice or ribs rice) , pan de Calatrava, torrijas, and so much more...

A little warning

Just don’t be an asshole and we’ll be fine. Assholes are: homophobic, transphobic, racist, ableist, Any sort of troll, and the likes of that, if you treat a person worse than a loved one then leave.

My blog will be a safe place for all and if your behaviour fall into any one of these, you make it unsafe and need to GET OUT!

If you speak Spanish or a related languague: please tell me in advance if you want to be called in masculino, femenino o nuetro. ÉL, ELLA, ELLE or another pronoun that represents you!.

If I seem too extreme tell me as I don't like making people uncomfortable when talking with me :D. I give you permission to tell me to shut up. I wanna promote a good place to talk in and not making anyone feel weird with my things.

PROFILE PICTURE DONE BY @iroissleepdeprived!

Moots:@jarondont, @iroissleepdeprived, @nikoisme, @perroulisses,@poshgirlsstuff, @katerinaaqu @incorrecthomer, @dootznbootz, @nyx-of-darkness-1620, @sunshines-child, @random-krab, @ironspdr6700, @fangirlofallthefanthings, @twomanyfandomshelp, @thehighpaladin, @the-decapoddecapod, @myblacknightworld, @simugeuge, @itszorrito67, @incorrectatlas @tunguszka20

[badolmen]

WARNING 18+

19

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I love you Safety Wizard.

(Inspired by @keroascrazy)

[sabh0]

My roman empire is that custom-made badge Dazai has sewn inside Chuuya's jacket after the Lovecraft fight

[lasagoofs]

i binged all of rogues! the podcast on a recent trip and had an absolute blast so here's a sketch dump of the sillies. more sketchbook stuff under the cut

[springheatedwine]

(There is no pressure on making this request if you're not comfortable or don't have the time/motivation for it) Can I make a request for a reader who's going through a bad patch with their best friend who's slowly replacing them with someone else, and it's obvious that they'll be having a fallout, so Veritas comforts them and reassure them about it?

[swampybogg]

[doctorho]

this one is for eveyone who needs some extra love around these times.

Viktor knows better than he'd like that life isn't always...pretty. Or simple, or easy, or fair. No matter how hard most of Piltover seemed to pretend that there was something magical in the midwinter turnpoint that made everyone suddenly forget the suffering and misery and the complexities of real-life situations, he knows that's not the case.

Which is why he doesn't ask stupid questions when you stay at the Academy over winter break. He doesn’t pry; he doesn’t need to. It's evident enough in the way you preoccupy yourself with work that it's something you'd rather not discuss. You're focusing harder than usual, and he's familiar enough with what that precarious, tight-knuckle grip on being okay.

And Viktor?

Well. Viktor's more than happy to be a distraction.

When he gets to the lab, mid-morning, you're already there. He's not exactly surprised; he'd anticipated this. Maybe even hoped for it. He'd worked with you for a while now and grown exponentially more attached to your company - not that he'd told you the extent of his affections. But he'd get to that. Hopefully.

He came prepared with two warm drinks and still-steaming pastries, and he silently starts unloading those to the common desk that had been designated as the makeshift kitchen of the room.

"Good morning," he says casually, "I brought breakfast." He thinks of adding if you want some, but upon reflection, doesn't. There's a fine line between respecting someone's free will and pushing them to make good choices, and he's currently erring hard to the side of I don't know if you've eaten anything yet today but you definitely should.

You only hum in response, not lifting your eyes off your current project.

In response to this, he hums back and tilts his head, studies the organized mess on your desk; circuit boards, either half-assembled or half-taken apart, he's not sure, stripped wires, a steaming soldering iron. Your hands, shaking a little.

He places the drink intended for you on your desk, just annoyingly out-of-reach, and waits for you to look up.

"When was the last time you ate something?" he asks, holding up the pastry now that he has your attention.

"Why does that matter?" you ask, reaching for the takeaway cup on the edge of your desk. Viktor leans the handle of his cane to block your reach, which makes you look up at him. Properly.

"Just trying to determine if I should make you take a lunch break while I'm bothering you, or if the pastry will suffice."

He lifts his eyebrows, waiting for you to answer.

You shift in your seat. He can hear your back crack in several places, and not in the pleasant type of way.

"Last night," you answer, leaning back with a sigh, then quietly add, "I think."

Viktor reaches over to turn off your soldering iron. "Lunchbreak it is, then. These can be dessert."

"I'm fine-" you start, and he lifts an eyebrow.

"I don't believe you," he says, completely casually, "I think you're pushing through low blood sugar to get this-" he gestures towards the desk, "finished, and I can tell you it's much easier to make mistakes when you aren't thinking clearly."

When you're quiet, he continues, picking up your coat and offering it to you. "You can trust me on this," he says, "I have more than enough experience."

You take a deep breath and sigh it out, feeling somewhat like a toddler.

"I promise you can go right back to poking at this later." He adds, and you slowly take the jacket from him.

"Good," he says, "I know a place."

It's a careful dance, and he knows this; he doesn’t want to push you. But he's been there, and he doesn’t want you to suffer more than absolutely necessary. And he really does know a place.

He re-packs the drinks and the pastries, and you follow him to a nearby cafe-and-drink-cart that's serving small steaming dishes outside. They're serving small steaming cups of - stew? Soup? And warm bread filled with different things, and you hadn't really noticed it before, but now that you were looking at - and smelling - the food, you were starving.

By the time you've registered the selection, he's already ordered for the both of you, and then the guy at the cart is offering you a brown paper bag and Viktor is moving again, and you take a few hurried steps to catch up with him.

"Where are we going?"

You can see him smile before he answers.

"Well," he says, "I was thinking we could take advantage of the great hall being empty, and eat there." He turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised, "I can only imagine how displeased the Academy Staff would be if we risked dirtying their marble floors with common food."

"Oh, really, you can only imagine?"

He shrugs, grinning. "Are you insinuating I have experience with matters such as these?"

"Yes," you answer, opening the paper bag to study its contents while you walked.

He hums in answer. "I am shocked by your accusations." He says, then, clearly fighting a smile, "I would never get caught breaking such a boring rule."

You smile now, too. "Right," you answer, "only the interesting ones."

The way he glances at you and smiles is more than enough of a response.

He stops at one of the long tables at the grand hall, and as he shrugs off his jacket and sits down, you place down the paper bag and do the same. He starts unpacking the contents of the bag, focused, placing down steaming bowls with a spicy scent to them, paper-covered wraps of something, utensils, and smaller bowls of... something colorful. Spices? Toppings?

Viktor opens the containers one by one, making the contents of the single takeaway bag look like a pretty impressive feast.

And you study him as he moves. Careful, confident in his movements, calm. While your insides felt like they were trying to hide, and had felt like that for... a good while now, he was calm like any other day. A rock-solid presence in the otherwise empty room.

"Are you not going to ask me?" you ask, "why I'm working through the winter break."

Viktor's only imminent reaction is the gentle lift of a single eyebrow.

"No," he answers, casually, and it sounds simple when he says it like that.

He meets your eyes, and that feels simple, too; because he is here, too.

It doesn't have to be any more complicated than that. He unwraps a folded paper napkin with careful fingers, and then places a steaming-soft bread in front of you.

You look at him for a moment, and then take a bite of the bread. It is soft and warm and heavenly, and when you taste the stew-soup-something, it's like it warms you down to your soul. You eat in silence; but it feels like there's a gentle bubble of understanding surrounding you.

You hold the warm bowl, and slowly, your hands shake less and less. The tension around your head gives away a little, too.

"Do you like the snow?" Viktor asks, and you follow his gaze out the window.

"I probably shouldn't," he continues, "the cold isn't exactly gentle on me. But it is pretty, I can't deny that."

You hum in answer. "Yeah," you agree with a small sigh, "it is beautiful."

His eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head.

"Do you want to break another rule?" he asks, something michievous curling at the end of his words.

You tilt your head in response. "A more interesting one?"

"Infinitely," he responds with a smile, and you're already on your feet.

And that's how you end up breaking into the roof of the Academy with him. Or, it's probably not technically breaking, since he has the keys, but you definitely aren't supposed to be in there, so that's what it feels like.

It also feels... breathless. And not just because it feels illegal, but it's... it's beautiful, and he holds your hand in the dark stairway and doesn't let go when he guides you to the expanse of the roof, and there's snow floating down all around you-

and for a moment, it feels like you're the only two people in the world, surrounded by a gentle blanket of snow and silence.

Or... not-silence. There is a song softly floating through the air, like it's being reflected in the snowflakes all around you.

And Viktor is offering you a hand.

You furrow your brows as your head catches up with your heart. "Are you asking me to dance?"

"Would you say yes if I was?"

And that was the question, wasn't it;

would you?

Your head tries to butt in with should you, but... something still-soft and light in your heart comes in way too solid with a yes.

Yes, you would.

So you take his hand, and meet him halfway to an embrace. He pulls you close to his chest, and the dance is as gentle as the snowfall around you; just a soft sway from side to side, breathing in sync with the music.

And Viktor isn't sure if this is a good idea, but... you look like you're further away from that edge now, no-longer shaking, and... he hated seeing you in your head that deep, and if he could do anything to help you find your way back to yourself, he'd do that.

It feels a little selfish, this dance, but... it was difficult to justify that when you were in his arms, breathing calm and even.

"I really am fine," you tell him quietly, and he runs a hand up your back slowly. You swallow. "Or I will be, at least."

"I know," he breathes out, and he means it.

You close your eyes, and believe it.

[vaguely-concerned]

'my cousin is all stomach and no heart' is such a funny thing for illario to tell rook if he maybe is picking up on a little bit of a Vibe going on there. the 'LMAO. well good luck with that friend. better hotties than you have tried and failed and dashed themselves against the legendarily unamorous cliffs of my cousin's complete obliviousness and lack of interest to no avail. (optional 'may I suggest a more hah-hem *undoes another few buttons on his shirt that thing is open almost to his navel now it's borderline obscene* available dellamorte for your consideration. I mean if you're like in the market for one anyway' devious undertone as you see fit)' energy is off the charts.

(illario is above all a funny petty bitch and that's why I love him so indescribably. no no lucanis is right we need him around to drop shade like this he is in fact also an essential crow. we all contribute in our own ways)

[artuurle]

more doodles of this thing that haunts my brain and his boyfriend

More doodles centered around pre-godhood shenanigans under cut to keep post short for the sanity of others lol

tha legally mandated Only 1 bed trope ...

getting the old uniform out!

annnnd the obilgatory sad bonus U u U

[bruciemilf]

Re: your most recent ask YESSS SAY UT LOUDER!!!!!!!! BRUCE LITERALLY STOOD BY HIS PARENTS MURDERER'S BEDSIDE WHILE HE DIED BECAUSE THERE WAS NO ONE ELSE WHO WOULD!!!!! BATMANS COMPASSION AND EMPATHY IS SUPPOSED TO DEFY BELIEF, ITS SUPPOSED TO BE BEYOND COMPREHENSION!!!!! HE IS THE LODESTONE FOR EVERY ROBIN, THEIR GROUNDING FORCE, THEIR MORAL TRUE NORTH!!!!!

Yeah!!! To me, Bruce is not moral creature. He’s a virtuous creature

[faunandfloraas]

just one bite...........

[zannolin]

the pevensies never getting to stay in narnia as long as they did that first time makes me crazyyyy like they had years. YEARS. and then they lost it and they got to go back but it was for a matter of days. days. just long enough to remember the things you lost. to find pieces of yourself again. and then they had to go, and peter and susan never got to go back. at least edmund and lucy were there for weeks aboard the dawn treader, even if it wasn't in narnia itself. probably it was more cruel than anything that susan and peter went back for hardly any time at all.

[jkvjimin]

(103/∞) the perfect nose for butterflies to land on it ♡ for @cosmicdreamgrl 🤍 | cr. qdeoks

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Old Men(tor) Big Naturals

(for @3luecactuz)

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.