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peachdues · 2 days ago

Text

WISH

Compass one-shot • bad boy!Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!Reader

A tooth-rottingly sweet one-shot honoring my sweet boy’s birthday.

This takes place a few months into Sanemi x Reader’s relationship in Compass — the main story is still in the hot, sticky summer. So think of this like a flash-forward. Don’t worry if you’re not fully caught up — no real spoilers here!

CW: 6k • MDNI • the cozy comfort winter oneshot of your dreams • mostly sickeningly sweet fluff but enough allusions/references to these horny idiots’ very active sex life • some references to gang violence (not descriptive) • swearing • abuse of cake

COMPASS MASTERLIST

Good birthday?

The two words sit on his home screen, a notification labeled with Genya’s name.

It takes Sanemi a moment to make sense of his brother’s text, until he spies the date reflected in the upper corner of his phone.

It’s November 29th.

For someone like Sanemi, dates are only important as far as they signal when something is due — and when something is late. The only dates that matter to him are the ones he’s told to care about; those hard deadlines that go unmet and require Sanemi to strap his crowbar to his back and his gun to his hip, so he can pay some poor bastard a visit.

Today is one of those deadlines, and Sanemi has a list of obligations to follow through on. But Genya’s text is a glaring reminder of the other thing today represents.

It’s his birthday.

Every year, his brother asks him the same thing — though, admittedly, Sanemi thinks the text is more a reminder rather than a happy wish of another year’s passing. Without Genya’s annual good birthday? Sanemi is fairly certain he’d forget November 29th held any significance to him at all.

I’ll be damned, Sanemi thinks, walking up the back entrance to an old computer parts shop — his first stop of the morning. Made it another year.

As unenthused Sanemi is about his birthday, he usually answered his brother with some pithy little acknowledgement. A biting Still alive, ain’t I? or, if he was feeling particularly festive, he’d simply send a thumb’s up, one that signaled his brother that Sanemi was working and didn’t want to risk smearing more blood and sweat across his phone screen than absolutely necessary.

This year, though — his twenty-second, he realizes after doing a quick bit of math — Sanemi’s not in any position to reply to his brother. Not yet, at least. So for now, his phone will have to sit in his pocket; his hands are about to be busy.

He’s got debts to collect.

—

Two hours later, Sanemi sits on his bike in an empty alleyway spliced between Market and Eastern Avenue.

In the last week or so, a strong front of arctic air had swept through the City, plunging it deep into the throes of winter. For a moment, Sanemi was grateful for the chill of the air; he always gets worked up after a collection, his limbs abuzz with hot blood and adrenaline. Cold air helped him settle down faster, cleared his mind so he could approach the next job with the same, violent precision.

Except, it’s now colder than he likes, but that itch still burns hot inside him. Hence, why Sanemi remains here, tucked away in this dark, forgotten alley, huddled over his bike. He’s got nothing to keep warm with but his worn leather jacket and the cigarette perched his lips, its end flowing a faint orange.

Tobacco-tinged smoke curls around his head, mixing with condensation of his breath as he exhales long and slow. The rush of nicotine is both a welcome distraction and extra sedative and finally, Sanemi feels his shoulders relax.

He’s only halfway through his cigarette, but he flicks it to the ground anyway. He’s not sure whether the burning in his throat is from the cold air or this particular bad habit of his, but it’s enough to kill his desire for anything more now that his edge has been sufficiently dulled. Still, he considers whittling himself down to the occasional cigarette is a marked improvement from the daily half pack he blazed through in his youth, before he discovered other outlets for his stress. Maybe he’ll be able to kick the habit all together by this time next year.

Assuming he lives long enough to see his next birthday, that is.

Sanemi’s in the middle of stuffing his lighter back inside his jacket pocket when he feels his phone buzz. He shouldn’t check it, not when his to do list still has one more name to cross off, but he’s already indulged in one bad habit this afternoon. Might as well go two-for-two.

And boy, is he glad he does when he spies the notification bearing your name.

Tell me you’re coming over tonight.

Sanemi’s lips twitch up with a smile he hasn’t been able to muster in days. Leave it to you to brighten his day in so few words.

What time you want me, sweetness?

A cutting gust of wind tears down the alley, whipping and tearing through the layers of his clothes. Any other time, Sanemi would simply hunch over the clutch of his bike and speed off, thinking only of someplace that wasn’t outside.

Now, he’s got you to look forward to.

Your reply arrives a few seconds later. Got a few errands to run so I’m closing up early. Owner can suck it. It’s cold.

It is, Sanemi mentally agrees, and he feels a rush of relief that closing nearly means you’ll be home — or close enough to it — before dark. The uptick in violence through the City has crept too close to your neighborhood for his comfort, and Sanemi already fucking hates you walking home in the dark without him as it is. The season’s shortened days only makes that particular anxiety of his worse.

Thank the fucking stars you’re less inclined to weather the arrival of winter than he is.

It’s a date, beautiful. He texts back before pocketing his phone. He cups his hands around his mouth and huffs, willing his breath to unfreeze his fingers enough to grip his bike’s clutch.

Another torrent of wind rips through the alley, but this time, it brings with it the first snow of winter, pelting his face with fat, cold flakes.

Sanemi tilts his face up toward the sky and grins. It is a sharp, feral thing, full of teeth and challenge. Good. Let it snow as hard as it wants; let it suffocate the City under a thick blanket of white. He wouldn’t care; Sanemi can’t think of a way better to warm up than by crawling under the covers with you. Maybe he’ll even treat himself and convince you to sleep in with him tomorrow. It’s been a few days since he last had the chance to see you. While he knows better than to be a betting man, he’d wager his odds of keeping you in bed were pretty good.

Huffing nice, twice more on his hands and Sanemi starts his bike, its motor roaring to life underneath him. His fingers are still stiff, but he can at least grip his clutch enough to steer it. No doubt the icy sting of the wind will freeze his hands in place, but he’ll worry about how to unstick himself later.

For now, he still has work to do.

In the northwest corridor of the City is a port marina that harbors a smattering of small house boats. It’s inside one of these drafty little boats where his next target hides, no doubt relying on the sudden arrival of winter to trick his creditors into looking for him elsewhere.

That ruse might have worked if anyone else other than Sanemi had been tasked with hunting him down. Unfortunately for him, his name fell in Sanemi’s lap, and now he’s going to have to play host to some very unpleasant company.

Slowly, Sanemi treads his bike to the end of the alley, eyes squinted against the wind and the snow, sweeping the street for any unsuspecting travelers. Finding nothing but the odd plastic bag being whipped and tossed down the sidewalk, Sanemi kicks his bike into gear.

As soon as he gets this job over with, he’ll get to see you.

The engine revs, and then Sanemi is thundering down the street, a renewed warmth spreading through his chest that even the biting cold of November can’t dampen.

—

It’s just after dark when Sanemi pulls up to your apartment, quickly killing the motor on his bike. He scans the dark alleyway behind your complex once, twice, before he glances up at the series of windows. Once satisfied that there are no unwanted eyes tracking his movements, Sanemi makes his way to the building’s side entrance, and begins his steady climb up the stairs.

He twirls his key to your place around his finger. God, he can’t wait to get kick his boots off, strip down to his sweater, and climb into bed with you. Maybe you’ll let him poach off your neighbor’s cable satellite again, and that way, he can find you a movie to half-pay attention to. Or, maybe you’ve snuck away another handful of advanced release copies from work, and the two of you can get to work reading and reviewing them. Either way, Sanemi is ready for the calm he only feels when he’s with you; he’s ready to relax.

The first thing he notices when he steps into your apartment is the smell of something burning.

“Motherfucker —“ he hears your vicious snarl from the kitchen right as something clatters to the floor. “One more fucking thing go wrong, I dare you —“

Calm is not on the agenda, it seems.

The air inside your studio is hazy with smoke, enough that it tickles the back of his throat. Hastily, Sanemi pushes your door shut before it can spill into the hallway and tempt one of the building’s ancient fire alarms. The last thing he wants is to summon the City’s finest and tip them off that a high profile gang member likes frequenting this neighborhood. Or the reason why.

“It’s me.” He calls out, crossing through your living room to crank open one of the arched windows behind your bed. Cold air floods your apartment, the winter wind chasing out the thickest of the smoke into night. “Baby?”

No answer; only more furious clanging and a particularly fierce “oh, fuck you.”

Cautious, Sanemi pokes his head into your small kitchenette. “Y/N?”

He’s not sure what he expected, but he can’t say he’s prepared for the sight of you, standing in front of your oven, hands on your hips and your foot tapping irritably on the floor. A cooling tray lays by your feet, and you don’t seem to be in any hurry to collect it; not when you’re too busy glowering down at your stove.

Sanemi’s eyes follow yours, and he finds what he presumes is the source of the stench. The worst of the smoke rolls off something sitting on your stove, though it’s too black for Sanemi to even guess what it’s supposed to be.

You whirl around and Sanemi has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

There’s flour on your cheek and dusted all down your front, along with other smears and stains of beige — batter of some sort, if he had to guess, given the cluttered mess on your counter of used mixing bowls and measuring cups. Your hair is a mess, puffed up and frizzed out from the smoke, framing a face scrunched up in pinched fury.

All things considered, you look pretty damn adorable, but he isn’t about to tell you that. The block of kitchen knives you rarely touch are too close within your reach for his comfort.

So, Sanemi takes the pragmatic approach and casually folds his arms across his chest. He offers with a measured nod of his head toward your oven. “I thought we talked about you cookin’ without supervision.”

For all the grief he’d given you about your inability to make anything more substantive than cereal, Sanemi learned rather quickly it was the most you could be trusted with. Once, you’d tried to show off your culinary skills by making him ramen, only for you to stick the dried noodles in your microwave without water. You hadn’t even noticed the acrid smell of something burning until he pointed it out, and by then, it was too late. It was only after he’d thrown the smoking bowl of scorched, blackened noodles into your sink that he hotly declared you were not to use any appliance in your kitchen while by yourself.

He’d thought you’d agreed to that ban but, as he peers over your shoulder to inspect whatever it is that’s about to set off your fire alarm, Sanemi grimly realizes the two of you are not on the same page.

“I wasn’t cooking, I was baking.” You snap, as though the distinction matters. You yank an oven mitt off one hand and snatch a loose fork from the counter, jamming it right into the smoldering center of whatever the hell it is you’ve tried to make. It pops and sags beneath the stab of the fork, more steam hissing out of the wound you’ve opened in its surface.

You hold the fork up for inspection and your eyes widen with outrage. “How is it burnt on the outside and fucking raw on the inside —?”

Sanemi glances at your oven settings and raises an eyebrow. “‘Cuz you have it set to five hundred — didn’t even know ovens could go that high.”

You chuck the fork into the kitchen sink with more force than necessary. “I was trying to get your stupid cake done before you got here. I wanted you to be surprised!”

He blinks. “What cake?”

“Your birthday cake!” You rip the other oven mitt from your hands scrunching it up before throwing it to the counter in defeat. “It’s your birthday, and I didn’t leave the store ‘til late, so I had to rush to get it done because I couldn’t swing a present other than this stupid cake!” You jab a finger toward the blackened pan still smoking on the stove. “And I couldn’t even do that!”

Sanemi’s eyes widen and for a moment, he can’t remember to blink.

All he can do is stare.

As much as he’s tried to forget them, there were a handful of November 29ths that had stuck with him over the years; a wad of chewing gum cemented to his memory that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried scraping it away.

His fifth birthday was spent clinging to his mother’s arm, begging her not to leave him alone in that dinky, unheated shoebox where they lived. His eyes had been teary, and he hated that he was acting like a crybaby, but he didn’t want his Ma to go — didn’t want to be left alone. He wanted her to scoop him up in her arms, to hum fragments of lullabies into his hair as she curled over him beneath their threadbare blankets, desperate for her body heat to sink into her son and keep him warm.

But it was winter, and Sanemi needed something to eat, so Shizu, heavily pregnant, had to go work.

She returned the next day with a lukewarm fast food hamburger Sanemi couldn’t stomach eating. Not when his mother came home sporting a new black eye, so dark and purple that not even her paper thin smile could dull her obvious wince, or the shadowy bruises peppered along her too-thin arms.

He spent his eighth birthday scavenging for spare coins dropped between the sagging, stained cushions of the old man’s broken down furniture.

Genya was nearly three and crying, his belly aching with a hunger he didn’t understand. Their mother was dead, and no one knew how to care for them except for Sanemi, and he’d been desperate; enough so that he’d clawed at the broken wooden couch slats until his numb fingers turned raw; bloody.

Because it was snowing and cold and Kyogo had left his sons at home in the dark, unheated apartment with nothing to eat.

He’d found enough loose change to justify running down to his neighbor’s place, and the old man had been kind enough to give him a packet of stale instant noodles. No seasoning packets, but the Shinazugawa boys had been too hungry to mind.

The only candles he had to mark the day were the mismatched stumps scrounged out of some cluttered drawer. His birthday wish — the very first one he’d ever made — a feeble plea that come December, Kyogo wouldn’t waste the month’s electric bill on booze his sons couldn’t even drink to keep warm. Winter in the Silo was harsh enough.

But December came and went, heralding in harsh winds and thick sheets of ice, and the apartment never once turned warm.

Sanemi never made another birthday wish again.

When he turned ten, Genya brought him home a tiny green race car, no doubt swiped from the basket of loose toys that sat next to the cashier at the nearby corner store. The paint was chipped, and one of the wheels had a tendency to stick whenever Sanemi skated it over the kitchen’s cracked linoleum, but it was a toy, and Sanemi hadn’t had one of those before. So, he ruffled his brother’s hair and the two spent the night rolling the car back and forth to one another across the floor, giddy with that childlike innocence they never got to keep come sunrise.

The corner store it came from closed not long after his birthday, its owner having been dragged out sometime in the night by hooded men, face too swollen and mouth too bloodied to scream.

Not that anyone would’ve helped, anyway. Not here.

Sanemi still has the car, though. It’s since lost a wheel, and the paint has nearly faded away, but it sits in his window sill; a prized token of the boy he’d never been.

For his fifteenth birthday, Sanemi’s lucky ass got not one, but two presents: a broken rib and a black eye. Courtesy of Kyogai, a sleazy had-been in the Corps’ ranks, whose penchant for downers meant he never had enough money to pay his dues to the Corps. Sanemi, a junior at the time, had been sent to collect money Kyogai refused to cough up, and in his youthful arrogance, thought he could simply strong-arm the Corps’ payment back.

That was when he learned never to get between a junkie and their fix — especially once withdrawal set in.

Sanemi returned the birthday generosity on a cold day in January, with his crowbar to Kyogai’s kneecaps. Rumor was he still couldn’t walk without a cane. But he never tried his bullshit with Sanemi again, and he thought that was probably the best gift of all.

So no, Sanemi can’t say he expects much out of his birthdays.

“No one’s ever made me a birthday cake before.”

It’s a breathless sort of admission, one that he’d probably be embarrassed about making if he wasn’t so caught off guard.

His admission monetarily stuns you into silence, and he almost feels ashamed. But you quickly recover and instead offer only a brittle laugh. “Yeah, well. Fucked that up for you, I guess.”

You finally look at him and Sanemi is startled by the tears rapidly lining your eyes.

“It’s just a cake, baby,” Sanemi soothes, hands reaching for you. “And today’s just a day. ‘S no big deal.”

Another great sniff. “It is a big deal!”

Sanemi is all too used to never having and not being allowed to want, so accepting what others want or try to give doesn’t exactly come easy to him. But the sight of you, nearly reduced to tears over the scorched disaster you’d tried desperately to make into something worth marking the day with has him reevaluating twenty-two years’ worth of trained indifference.

Beneath your frustration is clear upset with the situation. Because, you tried.

Sure, Sanemi’s birthdays passed without the usual triumvirate of cake-ice cream-presents he supposes other kids got. Frankly, he didn’t quite see the appeal of it anyway, but that may have been because Sanemi hadn’t known to miss what he never had. November 29th was just a day, after all; the mark of another year gone by without him taking a bullet to the head or having his body dumped in some faraway hole. The watery sun that rose that morning was no different all the others he’d managed to cheat his way into seeing. To him, it’s insignificant.

But not to you. For some reason, you don’t think you’ve given him enough.

Months of being together, and he still hasn’t figured out how to make you understand that he doesn’t need any grand gestures from you. It’s enough that you continue allowing him into your home, your bed, your life; that you soothe his fragmented heart, and chase away the cloud of numbness always lurking over his shoulder with one of your sweet smiles.

He doesn’t want for anything because he already has everything in you.

But you still want to give him more.

God, he doesn’t deserve you. And he certainly doesn’t deserve the tears swimming in your eyes or the frustration that weighs down your shoulders.

Sure, he doesn’t really give a damn about his birthday, but he sure as hell gives several about you, and your defeat is not something he’ll tolerate.

Sanemi fishes his set of keys from his pocket. “C’mon,” he nods toward the door. “We’re going to the store.”

—

“It’s not right,” you sniff an hour later as you hand him an oven mitt. “You shouldn’t be making your own birthday cake.”

“We’re making,” Sanemi corrects, seamlessly pulling the hot pan from your oven and placing it atop your stove to cool. “The present ain’t the cake, anyway.”

He tosses the mitt to your counter and turns to you, eyeing the can of frosting in your hand, one you absently stir a butter knife into, unsure of how else to help.

With a faint smile, Sanemi swipes his finger through the top layer of sprinkled sugar, dolloping it right on the tip of your nose. “You are.”

You roll your eyes, swiping your finger through the small blob of icing and bringing it to your mouth. As you suck the tip of your finger clean, you peer over his arm, nose wrinkling as you as you look down at the golden brown surface of the very much baked-through cake. “Still, box cake mix?”

“A cake’s a cake.”

The kitchen is teeming with the warm, comforting scent of sweet vanilla, one that spreads through the rest of your studio, chasing away the last remnants of burnt confectionary which lingered after your earlier baking fiasco. Boxed mix or not, you have to know that plan b smells leagues better than plan a, even if that means your ego has to take the hit.

“If you say so,” you grumble, shouldering him out of the way as you scoop out a glob of frosting, ready to slap it across the cake’s surface.

“Not yet,” Sanemi corrects, gently catching your wrist before your knife can make contact. “It’s gotta cool first, or else that’s just gonna melt all over the place.”

Your mouth twists into an annoyed grimace. “That seems stupid.” You gripe, stabbing the knife back into the canister of icing, right in its center.

“Chemistry, sweetheart. Didn’t you pay attention?”

“I slept through most of chem back in the day.”

That surprises him. “Weren’t you a goody two shoes?”

You snort. “Not when it came to science. Or math, for that matter. Always got my lowest grades in science and math.”

Sanemi rolls his eyes. “And a low grade for you would’ve been —?”

This time, you drop your head, suddenly sheepish. “Anything below an A.”

Of course. “Damn, wish I’d known.” Sanemi smirks. “Maybe I could’ve made bank tutoring instead of runnin’ around, bein’ a delinquent.” At the skeptical raise of your brow, he scoffs. “What? You think a blossoming criminal couldn’t also score a few As?”

Math had always come easily to him, though that may have been out of necessity than raw talent. Knowing numbers meant he could tally up debts quickly in his head and calculate the exact interest owed, which meant less time wasted wherein his target might be able to get one over on him. Not once had he ever finished a job short-changed. That’s what made him so valuable to the Corps, even back then.

His academic success across the various fields of mathematics and science (which was math with more words thrown in), was just an added bonus.

“Still, though — tutoring?” You laugh. “Sorry — for some reason I can’t picture you meeting some poor kid in the library to go over formulas and equations. I can’t even imagine someone willing to ask you — I mean —“ you gesture to him, and Sanemi knows that’s explanation enough.

“I might’ve. Especially if a certain pretty girl had batted her lashes and asked me all nice and sweet.” Gently, he pushes your hair back over your shoulder, his eyes watching your breath hitch in your throat; the goosebumps that spread over your skin. Smirking, he leans in and presses his lips right below your ear. “Kinda like how you did last week — ‘cept, you were asking me to give you something then, weren’t you?”

The way your cheeks darken tell him you know exactly what he’s talking about.

It was him. Specifically, his cum; you’d begged for it, actually, your recurring chant of fill me up, fill me up, baby, please! sweeter than music to his fucking ears.

You turn to grab the can of icing, defiantly putting your back to him, if only to avoid having to look at the cocky set of his mouth.

Sanemi’s gloating isn’t over. It’s his birthday, after all. “You know I’m right.”

“Oh, shut up before I make you decorate your damn cake.”

Still grinning, he lets you shoo him from the kitchen. Sanemi plops himself onto your sofa and fishes your tv remote from between the cushions. He busies himself flipping through the handful of channels you get, finally landing on some pro baseball game he only watches with half-interest.

“Ready!” You call a few moments later, and Sanemi tosses the remote aside, the game, forgotten.

You hover in front of your counter, hands together twisting nervously. The moment he appears in the kitchen’s small entryway, you step aside, revealing the fruit of your shared labor.

“Happy Birthday, Sanemi.”

The cake is small and its edges are a little lopsided. The icing looks like it was applied the same way as wallpaper paste. A lone, green candle sits lit in the cake’s center, its flame bright and merry.

Sanemi’s never seen anything more appealing in his life.

“You have to make your wish,” you sternly remind him as he leans over the cake, his eyes glued to the candle. “And you can’t say it out loud.”

A birthday cake; his very own birthday cake.

There’s a part of him that hesitates to blow out the candle, too entranced by the way the little flame dances and bends around the wick. After all, the last time he’d made a wish, it hadn’t come true.

And yet, another part of him — that silly, hopelessly optimistic part he knows better than to indulge — wonders if perhaps his eight-year-old self’s wish hadn’t worked because he’d lit the candles for light and feeble warmth. They hadn’t been intended for celebration, and he certainly hadn’t had a cake to hold them.

Maybe that was part of the magic; the spell’s missing ingredients.

This time, maybe things will be different.

His wish is simple, if not a little selfish. But Sanemi thinks that birthdays might be the chance to be selfish, and he’s not making his wish out loud anyways, so maybe he can get away with this.

Sanemi closes his eyes and he wishes for time. Time with you. Time with Genya. As much as the universe will let him have.

That would be enough.

Sanemi blows out the candle.

“C’mere you,” he says roughly, reaching for you. He pulls you into his side and presses a kiss to your temple. “Thank you.”

Your arms wind around his middle. “You did most of the work.”

“You made it a birthday cake, though.” He lays his cheek atop your head. “You turned this whole damn day into somethin’ special. Thank you.”

Without you, Sanemi would never know what it felt like to have his own birthday cake or a candle to wish upon.

Neither of you of bother with plates or cutting slices; instead, you hand him another fork and the two of you dig right in.

At the first bite, Sanemi’s eyes slide shut. Cheap box cake has never tasted so fucking good.

“Not bad,” you say thickly through your own mouthful, leaning over your counter. Another bite is already loaded on your fork. “Wonder what mine would’ve tasted like.”

Sanemi swallows. “Like raw cake batter.”

You turn over your shoulder to stick your tongue out at him, not caring that your mouth is full, or for the crumbs that fall on the counter top.

You’re about to return to the cake when a smear of white catches his eye.

“Hold it.” Sanemi sets his fork down and catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger before you turn away. He tilts your face up, and smirks.

That’s when he leans in, flicks his tongue along your lower lip. He moans at the taste of sugar, the spare bit of icing left on your lip further sweetening the honey of your kiss, his mouth capturing yours.

Your moan rights everything in his world full of wrongs, your fork clattering to the counter.

The hand he keeps on your chin slides to the back of your neck, tilting your head; the other finds purchase at your hip, tugging you closer into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before Sanemi is drunk on your lips, the warmth of the evening liquid honey that pools in his stomach.

Your kiss tastes like cake and home.

He’d stay here all night if he could, but the fervor of your lips moving with his has quickly stolen his breath away. No matter how much he craves your kiss, his body demands air.

With a faint grunt, Sanemi breaks your kiss. The hand on the back of your neck remains firmly in place, keeping you close as Sanemi traces the slope of your nose with the tip of his. “You had icing on your lip. Had to fix it.”

Through his lowered lids, he can see the quickened rise and fall of your chest as you steady your own breathing; the flush in your cheeks. Your eyes are bright, however, illuminated with equal desire and challenge.

Your tongue flicks out to dampen your lower lip and Sanemi’s eyes narrow. “Maybe you should check for more.”

Fuck oxygen. His mouth is back on yours before you can finish your next inhale.

And then, he’s moving.

Though you’re walking backwards, you’re the one guiding him, your fingers hooked through his belt loops as you tug him through your kitchenette and out into the open space of your studio.

His groan vibrates into your mouth. Sanemi doesn’t have to open his eyes to know where you’re leading him; he’s treaded this very path to your bed too many times to count.

Oh, there’s plenty of time for this later, and he’ll happily indulge himself then. Besides, you’re even more sensitive in the mornings, and that means he’s guaranteed to coax two or three orgasms out of you with just his tongue before you both have to go to work in the morning, never mind what he’ll be able to do once he’s actually inside you. It’ll be worth holding off, for now.

But right now, his heart is too full, and tonight has been mending something inside of him he hadn’t known was broken. Something shy and curious, a remnant from the boy who might have secretly longed to know what it felt like to have a birthday mean something; to matter.

Still, he can’t resist fanning the fire a little, the hand on your hip sliding to your ass and squeezing, his fingers dangerously close to the dip in your thighs.

He lets you strip him down to his underwear and you to yours, since that’s how you prefer to sleep when not otherwise naked. Only when he feels your hand sliding down his bare abdomen does he still you, his fingers wrapping delicately around your wrist.

He feels your frown before he sees it. Cautious, your mouth breaks away from his and you lower yourself down from the tips of your toes.

A dent has notched itself between your eyebrows. “You don’t want —?”

Later, he’ll be sure to tell you that he wants you all the time — so much so that it might be a problem. But that’s not what tonight is about — not for him. For now, he can’t risk you discovering that he’s half-hard already; the second your hand finds him, he’ll be too erect to function, let alone think clearly.

He shakes his head. “Actually,” Sanemi hooks his arm around your waist and tugs you back against the bed, falling into your tower of pillows and blankets with you safely encased in his embrace. “I think I just wanna hold you, if that’s cool.”

Confusion flits briefly across your face before your eyes soften. “Of course. Don’t you know that birthdays mean you get whatever you want?”

He didn’t, but that doesn’t matter. Because this is why he loves you: you know, without him ever having to explain. You understand.

With a soft smile, Sanemi rolls to capture you under him, but braces himself above you long enough to allow you to sit up against the headboard. The moment you settle, Sanemi inches up beside you until he can rest his head on your stomach, his arm hugging your waist.

He swears he can hear your smile as you ask, “Happy?”

Exuberantly so; your body is soft in every way his isn’t, and warm. He’s in a heated, dimly lit apartment with no fear of the lights cutting out or the cold outside making his toes turn numb. The girl he loves, loves him back. Everything he hadn’t dared let himself wish for is now his, carding her beautiful fingers through his hair.

it’s almost perfect. Almost.

“Nah, I’ve got one more request.”

He leans over you and pulls a novel from the top of the stack that perpetually sits on your side of the bed, never shrinking. He hands it to you, meeting your inquisitive eyebrow with his smirk. “Read to me.”

He doesn’t care what book it is — whether it’s something he’s read before, or of a genre he isn’t all that into, it doesn’t matter. He just wants to hear you.

“A bedtime story? Really?” You tease, but you’re already flipping to the first page.

Content, Sanemi turns his face further into your stomach, burrowing harder into you. One hand still smoothing through his hair, you begin to read the prologue, pausing for dramatic effect where the passage calls for it. Slowly, the hours unfold as your voice weaves together the story — some high fantasy set in a distant world. Once upon a time, Sanemi would’ve wished he could dive into the pages of his book; anything to escape his reality.

Now, he can’t imagine being any place better than right here, with you.

—

It’s nearly midnight when Sanemi remembers Genya’s unanswered text still sitting in his inbox. Carefully, so as not to disturb you and your faint snoring, he untangles himself from you. One hand pats across the surface of your bedspread, searching for the small rectangle while the other gingerly removes the book still propped between your fingers. You’d made it about five chapters, your thumb still marking the page where you’d dozed off mid-passage.

Book in hand, he turns and tosses it on your threadbare rug, and it lands with a dull thump. He finds his phone near the foot of your bed. His eyes flick to you once to confirm that his gentle movements have not disturbed your well-earned rest.

Your mouth twitches with another light snore, and Sanemi smiles.

He clicks his phone to life, taking care to keep it turned away from you, mindful of the bright little screen. Quietly, he thumbs his answer to his brother. The moment he taps the send arrow, he tosses his phone back to the ground and reaches across the duvet for you once more.

A few hundred miles away inside a sleeping boys’ dormitory, under Zenitsu’s nasally snores and the odd, violent twitch from Inosuke, Genya’s phone buzzes from its place under his pillow.

Yeah. Good birthday.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS APPRECIATED!!

#sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny sanemi #kny #kny fanfic #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x you #kny x you #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days ago

Note

Okay, hear me out...

Sy as a mafia boss and reader who owns the coffee shop.

The Olde Bakery

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: mob!Syverson, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Burly is most appropriate to describe the man. Tall, thick, looming. The door shuts behind him without a care as his eyes skim the small shop. In a town as isolated as Springfort everything is smaller; simpler. You can tell at a glance that this man is neither.

His eyes pass over the specials board and fall on you. More virulent than desolation in a small town is gossip. You’ve heard about the man already, though his appearance still surprises you. A man like him would go to the lawyer’s office and throw his weight around or trash the liquor store, but what business does he have in a cafe. Your cafe.

For as much as you’ve heard about the mysterious and mercurial newcomer, you know better than to ask that. Instead, you recite the usual. The boring daily routines are what make Springfort safe. Or did.

“Hello, what can I get you today?” You ask as he nears the counter. You move to face him over the small till.

There’s not much to the space; enough for you to work. Espresso machine, frother, blender, toaster oven, percolator... the basics and a little more. There’s the display case of your hand-crafted baked goods and not much else. It’s the only place in town beside the diner for locals to sit down, though there are only four tables inside.

The man doesn’t answer. He stares back at you. You can’t read his expressions. His blues fall to your hands as you place them on either side of the till.

He wears a quarter-zip with the tab pulled down. The collar folds over as chest hair peaks out unabashedly. His black cargo pants have a military cut to them and his fingerless gloves are a final peculiar accessory. He sports a thick beard but a shaved scalp, and his blunt brows give him a naturally angry affect.

“Sir? We have a new butterscotch mocha as today’s special,” you suggest.

“You.” He speaks at last.

You blink and hold your calm smile. You try to process his question. You point to your name tag an introduce yourself.

“No, you asked me what you can get me.”

You nod but don’t understand.

“I can help you, sir. Sure. What would you like?”

He looks you up and down and plants his hands on the counter. As he does that, you pull yours offer and fold them over your apron. He leans in and licks his lips.

“I would like...” he gives a crooked grin, “you.”

“I...” You open your mouth dumbly. “I don’t...” your voice is brittle. Your throat tightens and you choke on a disbelieving laugh.

“You laughing at me?” He challenges.

You gulp and snap your mouth shut, “no, sir. Sorry, I’m just... confused.”

“What’s confusing?” He bends until he’s leaning on his elbows and twines his fingers together. His knuckles bulge and whiten. You lean back on your heel, resisting the urge to flee.

“I don’t know,” you murmur. The look in his eyes fills you with icy fear.

“So, I put my order in...” he drawls.

“Um. I can’t... I... this is my...” you sputter and recall Sonia’s recount of Osborne and Meyers sacking. The older law partner ended up in emerge though his exact malady varied according the source. “I own the cafe so--”

“You go on and lock that door,” he says. “Since you’re the boss, you can take a break, can’t ya?” You sway on your feet and stare back at him. He untangles his fingers and brings a hand up to pull at a tuft of his beard. “I don’t know, I was told the service here was speedy.” He sucks his teeth. “But you’re here dragging your feet, wasting my time.”

You wince and take a cautious step back. He watches you, unmoving, though you brace yourself for him to lunge. You slowly come out around the counter and cross to the door. You twist the lock and flip the sign.

His footsteps scuff as he grunts into a long groan. You face him reluctantly as he drags one of the chairs from the table and puts it in front of the counter. His attention hangs on the seat as he considers it. You stand where you are, frightened.

“Come here,” he beckons with two fingers, his other hand on the back of the chair.

You approach and stop a foot away. He tilts his head to look at you. The gleam in his irises swells over you like frigid water. He lets go of the chair and turns to you fully. He steps closer and you wince as he reaches for you.

He loops his arms around you and tugs at the knot of the apron. It slackens and he brings his hands up to unhook the strap from around your neck. He pulls it away and drops it on the floor.

“Sir, I... what did I do?”

“Chh, chh, chh,” he tuts between his teeth.

You seal your lips and peer up at him. Your eyes meet again. He brings his large hands to cradle your face and tilts your head. He gives you an appraising look over.

“You just worry about what you need to do, sweetheart,” he growls.

His hands drift down to the top of your blouse. You shiver as he plucks open the buttons one at a time. As he does, gritty noises rise in his throat. He pushes the fabric away from your shoulders and down your arms. The blouse falls to your feet.

You turn your head away as he tugs at the knotted belt of your high-waisted pants. He unties it and stretches the elastic waistband, guiding it past your hips. You sniff as you focus on staying upright. Your pants pool at your feet, heaping over your round-toed flats.

You gasp as he cups your chest with his large hands. Your nipples harden and poke him through your bra. He purrs and gropes you harder. You shudder and waver with his force. He lifts your tits, jiggling them, and pushes them together.

“I was told you sell sweets,” he says, “but I wasn’t expecting these.”

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #sand castle #drabble

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elfbotanist · 1 day ago

Text

working on my version of veilguard, so far it goes like:

act 1:

exactly the same. inquisitor lavellan hired people who were unpredictable to track down Solas. And they did, untill that plan backfired. Well, shit. Solas is trapped. Evunaris are blighting the world with their two blighted dragons.

Solas continues to advice rook and rook informs the inquisitor. We need the wardens. But the first warden hates the inquisitor as much as he hates rook. Inquisitor is a wise woman, she knows she can talk down first warden so she does exactly that (you can do that as rook in game so why not as inquisitor? I seriously don't know why this game won't work if inquisitor was the protagonist but anyways it is what it is. Let's continue)

act 2:

after weisshaupt's fall, thousands of wardens dead, inquisitor realises this is not going to work. A group of seven misfits cannot win a war against immortal gods. They had an army, a network of spies and alliances with two nations when they were fighting corypheus... they need that strength once again. So time for inquisition 2.0 (kinda makes sense why different provinces/organisations will be willing to make an alliance with a former hero with a name than a random kid). So rook has some ground work to do while the inquisitor sets up the new inquisition at the lighthouse, which is much easier because they got dreadwolf's eluvian. The lighthouse was the heart of Solas' rebellion and now it's functioning as that once again. Lighthouse servers its purpose. Every adviser is there, inquisitor herself now acts like an adviser and rook gets the job done.

But you cannot win a war against immortal "gods" without having an immortal "god" on your own team, right? You need everyone on your side, even the people you can't trust fully. Inquisitor understands this and some members of the inquisition, that is Cassandra, is more than willing to get Solas out of that prison and have a "talk" about varric. And Cole needs someone who can understand him "i do not understand...the demon behind the crow's eyes is a friend or a foe?". So the inquisitor makes a deal with the dreadwolf. Freedom in exchange of his alliance.

They track down the dragons. With the help of our new dragon hunter, remaining wardens, what's left of inquisition army, the crows/shadow dragons and the dreadwolf himself. Rook manages to kill the dragons and wound Ghilan'nain with minimum loss of life.

In Arlathan, Rook et al infiltrates venatori's ritual. At lighthouse Solas senses that Elgar'nan has trapped Rook and their companions. He informs the inquisitor that he can help...Inquisitor suprised from his eagerness to help rook of all people (whose daily agenda is to annoy Solas to death) is hesitant. Solas says he wants to save the elves just like inquisitor wants to save her people.

"There is no other motive behind my plea other than saving innocents from being sacrificed for Elgar'nan's sadistic whims, like I did during my rebellion...Trust me vhenan. I know his mind"

So rather than Rook just telling Lavellan that "Oh Solas is good. You should totally try to redeem him". I'd rather have Adviser Inquisitor Lavellan and Adviser Solas slowly grow close to each other once again, like they did back in skyhold. A perfect parallel.

We all know he can't help but rizz her again with his fade talk

"Allow me to show you something, Inquisitor"

"You and your sweet fade talk"

"No fade tongue this time"

They relive all dai solavellan scenes... Even the crestwood scene. (These parallel moments with her are important because we know she almost changed his mind. That's why he ran away. Avoided her like plague for last 10 years because she has that power. To change his mind. And reliving dai moments with her is going to be the catalyst when we have to stop him in the end and redeem him)

It's here, in the garden, she mentions the letter he had sent. He finally... FINALLY tells her everything. His past, the titans, the veil, the evunaris, the dagger, the blight... his people... him being a former spirit of wisdom... Everything. Lavellan connects the dots and asks if this is why he was so hurt when his friend, a wisdom of spirit was corrupted, because it was personal, because it was his trauma. All new, faded for her.

"Forced to do something against its purpose, fighting... Is that what happened to you vhenan?"

"Yes"

"But you were always wisdom to me. My Solas. My wisdom. Everyday at haven and skyhold...I saw the real you. I saw Wisdom. The self you're always mourning. I loved all of you. I still do."

"Your empathy is a blessing. Your spirit pure and unmarred."

"I am only human, Solas. And so are you"

"That I am. A broken man."

"Not to me my love."

act 3:

Eclipse takes place. Solas and Rook kill Ghilan'nain but Neve/Bellara is lost. With the strength of the new inquisition and its allies, it is much easier to get in Minrathous. Rook and companions along with Inquisitor and Solas fight the blight. Solas tells Rook and Inquisitor the blight can sense him, some intelligence is controlling the blight tendril. They need to get to Archon's Palace and kill Elgar'nan with the dagger, while he fight the archdemon.

"What? On your own?"

"Don't be afraid, vhenan. All these years... My feelings for you, they never changed. Ar lath ma"

There's pain in his eyes, like that night in Crestwood. She's not sure what he means.

"Solas..."

" Now go with rook. When next we meet, let us be standing over Elgar'nan's body!"

"Woooow... Your husband is a... dog?"

"That's a wolf rook and he's not my husband"

"He is huge though"

"And fluffy..."

"Inquisitor, you can dream about petting your wolf husband after we're done here."

"He's not my-"

"LET'S GOOOO!"

If Solas is Wisdom, then he is also Pride. In Emmrich words "He is however, a former spirit. Solas cannot help but listen to appeals to his nature... his yearning for reflection." And his duty to save his people. So one last betrayal from the dreadwolf. Blighted Neve/Bellara informs that killing Elgar'nan will destroy the veil.

"Of course he lied! I knew something was wrong... his eyes. He's a terrible liar"

"Inquisitor what are we supposed to do?"

"We stick to the plan, Rook. I'll deal with Solas"

*outside dreadwolf cries in pain*

"Solas..."

"Inquisitor, Solas will do his part. We must press on forward.

"Yes Cassandra, but I need you and Cole with me."

"I understand. Always with you inquisitor."

Inquisitor, Casandra and Cole fight the blight and darkspawns, helping rook and companions get to Elgar'nan.

But Solas can't win alone. Blighted Neve/Bellara uses her power to free Solas and he kills the archdemon, making Elgar'nan mortal. Rook and companions kills him and the veil starts disintegrating.

"I am sorry for this final betrayal. But when you'll see the old world restored..."

Rook persuades Solas. He relents but it's not enough.

"I cannot. To stop now would dishonour those I have wronged to come this far"

"Even if those you've wronged asked you to stop?"

"Vhenan..."

"You think you've gone too far to come back. But you're wrong! I am here, walking the dinan'shiral with you!"

"I lied. I betrayed you."

"I forgive you. All you need to do is stop!"

"Ir abelas vhenan. But I cannot."

(I had to add my boy)

*Cole*

"They sleep, masked in a mirror, hiding, hurting, and to wake them I must burn down the sky again. Break the old chains. But it's not enough. Never enough. This world is too real."

"Cole?"

*Cassandra*

"You need to stop"

"But Varric...."

"Not your fault completely. Honour the death of your friend. All those years ago. When I asked what do you believe in, and you said you believed in People. We are people. Have faith in us, Solas"

*Cole*

"I long for my home, my people, my world. But here is also home. Here is home. She is home. Vhenan, my heart. Ar lath, ma vhenan. Wherever you are, there is my heart. Wherever you are, I am home. She is home and my heart and a cold fortress in the mountains that shines so brightly because she shines, she has made it home and they were together, the Inquisition, my family.... You are not alone Solas"

*Lavellan*

"Banal nadas. Ar lath ma vhenan"

Solas breaks and binds himself to the veil. Vows to keep it intact, protect innocents and help with the blight.

He's ashamed. So ashamed but he needs her to know his sincerity. Needs her to know that he can be that man she fell in love with. Her Solas, as she has said that night in the garden. So he looks at her finally, in her eyes and says. "I will go now and seek atonement." It's a promise, of a better duty, a better path, for her.

"But you do not have to go alone"

"Ar ghilas vir banal"

"Tel banal ara'ma vir shiral ma'lasa. bellanaris"

"Bellanaris"

And now we turn to my beautiful city

Black skies changed into blue

And my love is so wise and so pretty

I no longer dream of her

cause she is real

she is here

she is mine

And I am whole

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #solas #solavellan #solas x female lavellan #dav spoilers #veilguard spoilers #datv spoilers

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sheeezu · 2 days ago

Text

Yes, this is a new account, I just made this. I don't care if people question the authenticity of my post, my experience as a shifter, or whatever I'm about to say.

I don't know how to use Tumblr, nor do I know how to make my post reach people who need it, nor would I be a narcissist and say "you're lucky if you found my post!" I don't mind if this reaches an audience or not, I'm glad to get everything off my chest.

Yes. I've shifted.

I have shifted realities, more times than I can count on my fingers, and that is for a very specific reason, which I'll explain later.

I'm writing this because I'm about to permashift, and no, I won't hear out any antishifters or people who don't like permashifting in general, I don't care about your opinion so don't waste my time.

Before I start, I'd like to say one thing:

I was irrational minded, I lacked belief in myself and shifting. Shifting often times felt like a chore more than a fun activity, and i have to admit, it became an unhealthy habit.

So? Why did I mention this?

Because I had been lurking around shifting communities and I realised everyone feels like this, a very (mentally) painful feeling where the lack of shifts starts acting as your biggest enemy, and the phrase:

"Shifting needs practice!"

Sounds like poison when it comes from an experienced shifter.

Though, is the phrase actually true?

No, not at all.

Shifting does not need practice!!

Here's why:

(BTW, I will explain my "method", no matter if I have time or not. Also, I don't call this reality "Current Reality", instead I call it Void reality, so don't get confused.)

The "practice" you're doing is only affecting your void reality (taking time out of your day, making you constantly think you're in your learning phase, so it doesn't exactly lead to your desired reality, does it?)

Of course, if you view it as a skill, it will in some way act like that, it'll become a skill for you, and you can never succeed on your first, second, third, hundredth try, because in your brain you have registered the fact that shifting is this grand, universal task, and that it is very difficult (because its common sense that you practice difficult things to get good at them)

Practice is a very humane and earthly act, if people have succeeded doing just practice, then good for then, they're right in their own way, but it didn't work for me, and in my opinion it's the worst way to view shifting, and often times it is demotivating, and you'll mess up you're entire journey.

Shifting is not a skill, shifting is a universal law.

I'll become more clear as I explain my journey:

My journey:

I found shifting from a random YouTube video 3 years ago. I might have only said cool and moved along.

A year later something traumatic happened in my life, which shook me so badly I needed an escape.

First of all, I chose astral projecting, but I realised I was too much of a coward to do so.

Then I came towards shifting, first DR was very typical, it was Hogwarts.

Having no knowledge whatsoever in the topics of spirituality, meditation, I went straight to methods, because they were like guides for me, I was very inexperienced, of course, and looked at other people and what they were doing for guidance.

Alice in wonderland method didn't do much, raven method was too uncomfortable (side note, all this raven method does is make you too focused on your void reality, cmon, in your DR are you laying down like a starfish?) And I was having terrible trouble with my intrusive thoughts (which made the floor disappear from under my feet, made the stairs for the stairs method too short to climb or straight up made them dissappear as well)

I didn't have any luck that year, no mini shifts, no lucid dreams, or sleep paralysis. And my DRs never remained constant. They always changed on a daily basis.

I was big on methods, I couldn't realize they never worked for me.

Although, this year of failure led me to finally figure out where I belonged.

A DR made out of scratch, which I spend much effort in putting the pieces of it together.

The DR, which was called "Home reality" really made me feel settled in my journey.

LOA, and the consciousness theory were the leading factors which made me shift.

And don't worry, it isn't what you're tired of being told, I didn't just apply any orthodox definition of LOA and succeeded.

Background to my first shift:

It was a particularly stressful day, I really missed my home.

I was studying at my college (I still am, but...) and I was dreading giving a chemistry test, I did not prepare. In my mind, one thing was constantly looping in my head.

The scenario of the chemistry teacher coming in, and taking the test, and the next day I get it handed back with a big fat zero.

But then I stopped and wondered, having already known about the consciousness theory, so according to it:

"I am constantly letting this thought run in my mind, and constantly letting this reality dictate what happens next."

Basically, I realized what was about to happen next was indirectly in my control, but with my line of thinking, I was letting this reality control it directly.

I stopped, like actually stopped thinking.

And with a blank mind I thought.

"I won't have to take any test today."

And went around telling my classmates this with a confident tone.

The teacher came in, said we'll instead do some practicals in lab.

So the test got cancelled.

Going home, I got excited, i felt powerful.

I decided to apply this to shifting.

Before shifting, I took a nap during the day, (if you're tired your body insists on sleeping, so your mind will get hazy and you will start acting lazy towards your goal)

And after living how I normally would, before bedtime, I listened to some songs, and look at a Pinterest board which reminded me of my home reality.

My method and what happened next:

First phase of shifting:

When I laid down on the bed to start shifting, I first got comfy (for me, if I feel sleepy for some reason, I laid on my back, I can't fall asleep in that position, but if I think ill stay awake until I reach a "detached state" then I sleep on my side, it's comfortable)

I obviously wasn't checking the time, but I spent about 10 minutes getting relaxed, all I do to relax is:

a) look at the blackness (closed eyes, looks like starry skies) and try to believe I'm looking at the milky way.

b) think about my home reality, just faces of my loved ones, and nostalgia inducing images.

c) Affirm, but don't focus entirely on affirming, usually in the back of my mind I'm repeating "I have shifted to my home reality" "I have shifted my senses to my home reality" "I have stopped sensing the void reality" "I am smelling, tasting, feeling, hearing and seeing my home reality" no other fancy affirmations required. (Now that I think about it, you need to affirm NOW because this method has two phases, one where you are shifting, and one where you have shifted, and you are in the 3D, where you are occupying your DR self, their thoughts, and memories, and popular method usually only have one phase, either you are shifting, or have shifted. So my point is if you affirm later and you'll be affirming when you're supposed to be in your DR, and obviously, your DR self won't be spouting out affirmations about shifting to a random reality for no reason.)

During this time, you'll feel tingly all over. It's a good sign.

And you'll feel a certain detachment, like you aren't exactly here, you have no idea what position you're lying in, and where your feet are. (Please, for the love of God do not start counting your feet or get freaked out that you can't feel your leg, you'll come back to the void reality.)

So you can start the next phase.

Middle phase (optional):

To prepare for the next and last phase, you can do this to get ready, or don't (First read the third phase)

This is all about connection to your DR.

Think about memories from your DR, focus on the faces of your loved ones, the way you act, talk, your mannerisms in your DR, or you can simply say affirmations like these one:

My name is ___.

I work as a ___.

My age is ___.

Don't try to imagine vividly or anything, lightly touch upon the basic details of your DR, the construction and foundation of any reality and the person, who has existed there for their entire life.

(That's you!)

Phase three:

Take a sudden, abrupt stop from your stream of thoughts. (Yes intrusive thoughts will still pop up but don't give any importance to them) when you're in a blank state of mind, not longer than 30 seconds, you need to build up to the last step of your shifting method, and journey.

a) start imagining hearing the voices of your loved ones or just any voice, calling your DR name, your nicknames, with different tones. (For example, i heard my name in an angry tone from my father when he was scolding me, I heard my name followed by a laughter when my S/O teased me.)

OK, for me, I started feeling intense, groundshaking symptoms at this moment. Sudden flashing of lights, extreme feeling of floating, and ofcourse, feeling tingliness so much that it felt like pins and needle on my entire body. (I did ignore the symptoms)

b) plan the rest of your day in your DR, which you will be spending.

AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T SAY IT LIKE THIS.

❌️When I reach my DR ❌️ I will have to go to that eye specialist for that appointment.

Instead: (and the more you personalize it, the better)

Ughhh, I have to go to that appointment- this day will suck.

(Don't mind my example, that was the only thing I could think of at the moment)

c) in this reality, you are constantly thinking of something, your thoughts are definitely what constructs this reality, and your current thoughts are affecting your subconscious. (By this point, your subconscious is grounded in your DR, so don't worry about that bastard.)

Now, you're going to start thinking, thoughts which are going on in your DR self's mind, start with one sentence, with which you'll be able to start consciously thinking like your DR self.

And think in the style, tone, and mood of your DR self, and keep the thoughts strictly related to your DR.

Thats it, but what happens afterwards? And what happened to me?

So for me, I started feeling weird while I was thinking.

And I remember I thought this:

"Ugh, I don't want eggs for breakfast."

(I'm not saying this is the key to shifting, at this point, I had covered various topics, including, weather, my upcoming work assignment, and praised my S/O for a good 5 minutes.)

And I started panting, like suddenly I was trying to catch my breath, the room felt bright, so I opened my eyes, and well, I was in my home reality :)

I was delirious for a few second, my S/O was looking at me worriedly, but surprisingly, it didn't even take me a minute to adjust, it felt all so natural and I wasn't scared.

I didn't even feel emotional, at all, and didn't hug my S/O with tears in my eyes, I straight up asked to be served breakfast, incase anyone was wondering.

So that's it.

Although i have much to say, I'm tired of writing, but I'm more than willing to answer each and every one of your questions, although I only have 7 hours left till I permashift, I'll remain mostly active till then.

And no, I'm not rereading this to fix my grammar, so just ask if anything confused you.

Ask away.

I'm still not sure if this'll reach anyone or not.

#shifting community #reality shifting #shifting motivation #shifting blog #shifting antis dni #shifting #shiftblr #shifters #permashifting #respawning #shifting methods #shifting stories #shifting success

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estranhossonhos · 3 days ago

Text

History and fashion nerds rejoice, I hadn't anticipated the post stretching out quite so much, but I think you might enjoy it - or at least I hope so! 🤍

- note added after final review because, well, it's about my latest adhd induced hyperfixation.

Ok, first of all - LOOK AT THE DETAILS ON THAT ILLUSTRATION!! ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! 🥹 Congratulations and please keep up your amazing work, @marichka! 💗

But you know what I loved the most?

The fact that this post showed up, out of nowhere (I didn't know nor followed @marichka's art until now - I suggest you do the same and follow them) when, for the past few weeks, I've been on Pinterest, pinning illustrations and old photos that showcase Portuguese* folk/traditional clothing.

On the left an example of a girl wearing the Ukrainian shawl; on the right, a girl wearing the Portuguese shawl.

A little background story:

after avoiding it and even ignoring this part of my ancestors' history, I've recently fell in love with it, after receiving two traditional black scarfs. And I've been reading a lot more about them, after looking for some inspiration on Pinterest, on how I could experiment and include it in my daily outfits, for this season.

They resembles a lot with the Ukrainian scarfs, and from other countries as well, that were heavily influenced by Moorish, Mediterranean, and Atlantic cultures.

I mean, they all have obviously their own differences and charm, but this is why I love to study history so much: it's always fascinating to notice how we are all connected.

Through language, costums, clothing, and/or other aspects that we think are uniquely our own, but somehow - through positive influence or sometimes (impossible to not mention human's dark nature) through appropriation, invasions, war, etc.

Whether this commom thread that unites us has its origin on genuine admiration, positive cultural exchanges or in malice, I just wanted to congratulate @marichka's amazing attention to detail with those scarfs, and the rest of her work, of course. Which, by the way, is part of their new illustration series, on Ukrainian headdresses. 😍

Ugh, I just love when these tiny life coincidences happen - it always makes my day!

But before I post this long rambling, I hope the artist doesn't mind if I take the opportunity to showcase some photos of the Portuguese shawl (and the rest of the Portuguese traditional clothing), that I above-mentioned.

Extract from @marichka's post, that started this never ending post （〃'◡'〃）

__________________

All 6 photos taken from Pinterest, and linked to the original pin.

If I got you curious about this subject, you can read more about them on the website Portuguese Folklore (linked below). Or you can start with the following articles:

★ The Variety of traditional clothing in Porttugal/ A variedade dos trajes tradicionais em Portugal - Folclore.PT

★ The shawl/ O Xaile | Trajes tradicionais portugueses - Folclore.PT

Note: each one of these photos are hyperlinked to their own article of origin.

Part of the Vianesa Traditional Dressing, which is now considered an icon of the city of Viana do Castelo.

«A woman from Minho with a algibeira» - algibeira are pouches that women would add to their waist apron (in front or underneath) and depending on their status they were either have lots of colours, motifs, etc.

Lavradeiras da Abelheira (Cliché of the distinguished amateur Mr. Emigdio Freitas, from Porto) in "Ilustração Portuguesa", nº709 – September 22, 1919

This photo was not taken from the website Folclore.pt website. Had to take it from here, to show you a similar to the one I got.

Different ways to wear, as a headscarf - depending on your region, weather, status, work-life, etc.

And finally, I just now this found website that apparently is a «project for the preservation of European culture in the field of customs related to traditional dances», and this page summarises Portugal's:

★ Portugal – 4DCulture Platform

The Wedding Dance (1566) by Pieter Bruegel the Elder

For now they only have information on Bulgaria, Germany, Lithuania, Portugal and Greece. But it has the European Commission's support and we need to, now more than ever, elevate and keep on supporting all cultural databases (online* and offline - check what you can do locally: on your local library or museums, for example).

*I don't want to prolong this any further, but regarding those online databases, I am again talking about the incoming digital dark ages, that every day seems to become more and more real. You can, and should, read more about it by searching the latest Internet Archive news, or you can start here: - Shining a Light on the Digital Dark Age - Long Now - We're losing our digital history. Can the Internet Archive save it? - The New Digital Dark Age | WIRED - and this video essay (that's already pending urgent updating, but that is still a valid complement to the 3 articles highlighted above):

youtube

Uhhh, I've been drawing these ornaments for so long💙 I like to dig in some kind of ornament, or leaves, or a forest and just decoratively draw everything, it's like meditation for me The only downside is that I draw such things for a very long time, and sometimes I disappear from social networks How do you like this illustration?

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applepixls · 4 hours ago

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please join me in imagining:

a sitcom starring the 4 Gs with their creaking neighbour as a frequent visitor and everyone else as side characters we see a lot. and they have super powers.

just imagine, cleo is a necromancer who on the daily has to deal with her sassy zombies and hide them to avoid dealing with the issues of them being undead (fitting 2 extra people in their already cramped flat, taxes, insurance,,, grown up things.) scott is supposed to be super powered but all he does is turn into random barn yard animals impulse can teleport but its not its all cracked up to be (once he sneezed and got accused of robbing a bank) pearl just has a tendency to do dolphin elytra hopping in the living room cause she never has enough room in their cramped flat. ft. their silly neighbour bigb (appears about as much as the landlord in one day at a time if you're familiar.) shows up for family breakfasts and dinners, helps fix things and brings his silly little creaky guys as enrichment for scott when he wants to be something other than a chicken

their neighbours include: 3 college aged guys (who mostly put up with each other and start gradually liking each other better as the show goes on.) who live in the flat below them, one sleeps at any time of day and tends to slow time down to be funny, one runs really fast and freezes water he steps on and the third bounces high with glorified farts and owns a really fancy meat tenderizer. (and is cousins with their other neighbours including a violent ginger girl, a guy obsessed with fast and furious and a guy who seems to be stuck as a 1910s carnival barker-) their 3 upstairs neighbours who more or less keep to themselves and have pet birds, one of them has been asking the landlord if they can build a rooftop rollercoaster (in lieu of a garden) and can.. sit on stuff.. and punches really hard and you ouch if you punch him, another one celebrates every day he lives and is able to go invisible. the third struggles to keep the other two alive and is able to blind others in a vicinity and briefly vanish making her effectively an enhanced cuttlefish. (she is married to their downstairs neighbour and therefore spends as much time as possible in their flat instead of her own. wise choice) then there's the 2 neighbours who are really into roleplay? one of them is nosy and peeps through peep holes cause he can hear everything he sees, the other one borrows peoples identities (no harm done tho mostly just to raid his neighbours fridges without getting yelled at by their roommates) the snooper accidentally trash compactors himself trying to escape the carnival barker and the identity thief is now looking to move in with someone- finally, the main 4's mortal enemies, a guy with a fancy car who can jump on air and a girl who frequently has out of body experiences in which she can talk to the dead. they've recently adopted a silly guy with a waffle who does all of the above but only one at a time on a 6 hour or so time frame. he recently lost his roommates (both in trash compactor incidents, tragic really. one got too close and got eaten the other was leaning out the window trying to see where it was and fell out. self defenestration. rumour has it it was actually one of his buddies but that guy's innocent until proven guilty. these two are ironically now cleo's goons) and couldn't pay the rent himself so he's had to move in with the torettos

i would watch it

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annwrites · 11 hours ago

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⸻ corsets & clockwork one-shot collection. ⸻

· pairing: assassin!jacaerys x fem!reader · type: one-shot (collection) · summary: having had enough of feeling like a burden, you threaten to leave, but jace refuses to let that happen. · word count: 962

“I want to come.”

Jace swears under his breath and shakes his head while fastening a blade to his side. He then glances up and stares at you from beneath dark, silken curls. “No.”

You take a step forward and cross your arms. “I’m tired of sitting around here and doing nothing. It’s all I’ve done since coming here! While the rest of you go out there and risk your lives and freedom just to bring back enough coin to keep us going, I leech off of it while doing…what? Cooking? Cleaning? I keep house while—”

“You stay here,” he interjects, acidically. “Because that is where you belong. You don’t possess the skills necessary to do what we do. You would only serve to get us jammed up. And I am not about to risk the safety of every person here just to appease your boredom.”

He comes closer to you and your eyes flit to Baela and Rhaena, who stand near the door, then back to him.

“There’s plenty to do around here to keep you occupied in our absence. So, yes, you can cook or clean, or watch the clock until we get back. It’s up to you. But what isn’t, is you accompanying us. I make those decisions—particularly for heists like these—and my decision is final in you remaining here in the apartment.”

Tears sting your eyes from anger and your chin wobbles from humiliation.

“You don’t get to stand there and lecture me like a child just because I’m finally saying the silent part out loud. I’m not capable of helping because you refuse to teach me! I know people here resent me for it: doing nothing. Daily. I’m just another mouth to feed, another head to keep a roof over, another back to clothe while I do absolutely naught to earn it all. While I live off of their shares.”

A muscle in his jaw feathers.

“You’re not living off of their shares,” he spits before turning back to the door.

“Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean,” you reply.

He grabs his coat from a hook near the door and shrugs it on. Just as he settles his palm upon the brass handle, you speak again.

“Maybe I won’t be here when you get back, then.”

Luke stares at his older brother, watching as he grips the handle more tightly, and his shoulders tense. And then his jaw flexes. Hard. Always a simple tell for his building anger.

“Excuse me?” Jace sneers before slowly turning back to you with a raised brow which twitches from irritation.

“You heard me,” you reply, entirely serious.

Baela opens the door then.

“We’ll just wait outside,” she says quietly, and the rest of the group follows along behind her, eager to get away from a detonation just waiting to happen.

Aging wooden floorboards creak beneath Jace’s leather boots as he stalks slowly toward you.

“Would you like to repeat that?” He hisses.

“You heard me the first time.”

He doesn’t stop until your chests are a breadth’s-width apart.

You lean your head back to meet his gaze, but school your features, despite your heart pounding away between your breasts from nerves.

“You should want that, shouldn’t you?” You throw at him.

His brows furrow and his brown eyes flit between your own. “What the Seven Hells are you trying to get at?”

You snort quietly. “You’ve done nothing but treat me poorly for months on-end. You act as if you can hardly stand my presence. By extension, you should be eager to be rid of it—of me. I’m finally giving you what you desire most. I’ll be out of the city come the morn, before the first bell tolls, and you’ll never have to worry about setting eyes upon me again.”

You study his features—flared nostrils, furrowed brows, and his jaw which clenches and moves from one side to the other, even his fisted hands at his sides—but aren’t intimated by a single feature or facet of his vexation. You’ve become well-acquainted with it.

He’ll finally have a chance to relax when you’re gone, if nothing else.

“As I said, I can’t take it anymore: living as a constant burden, weighing everyone else here down. Their earnings will no longer go toward my upkeep. I won’t allow it. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me from taking my leave.”

You take a step away, and begin to turn in the other direction, until his hand quickly wraps around your wrist.

You try to yank away, to no avail.

And then, most unexpectedly, he cups your cheek roughly in his other hand.

“Let go of m—”

“No one’s funds go to you except mine.”

You still. “W-what?”

He parrots your own words back to you. “You heard me.”

He releases you. “Now, you’re going to ensure me that you’ll remain here, and will be here when we get back. I don’t need my mind focused on anything else except the job. If it is, then I risk everyone’s safety. Something will go wrong, and one of us won’t make it back, if not worse.”

You reach up and ghost your fingertips along your cheek, suddenly feeling distant from yourself.

He’s never touched you like that before…

In truth, he seems to despise any form of tenderness or physicality, so it takes you by surprise that he placed a hand upon you.

“I…” You sigh.

“Fine,” you say, if not a bit reluctantly. Once again, he’s gotten his way.

“Promise me,” he demands while crossing his arms.

You look at him—into his eyes—wishing you could break through his enigma of an exterior.

Maybe he’s simply one puzzle that you’ll never have a chance to solve.

“I promise.”

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea

#fic: hotd (jacaerys velaryon x reader)#jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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throwingmuses · 3 days ago

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Can you imagine how stressful it would be to have to figure out, by yourself, how to raise the funds necessary to get you and your surviving family members to safety after losing everything at just 13 years old?

Unfortunately Jaber doesn't have to imagine this at all as this is simply his current reality; on days that he should be in school learning and laughing with his friends like we all did back when we were his age, as every thirteen-year-old deserves to, he is instead left no choice but to take up the daunting and beyond-nervewracking task of fundraising enough money to buy his family's safety, allowing them to finally escape the daily horrors they've been living through for well over a year.

And over the course of this past year alone, Jaber has seen and experienced firsthand things so horrific that I cannot begin to imagine how I would handle if I were his age, things that I and so many of us can hardly comprehend even as adults. His home, his school, all of the places in the world he cherished the most, all of it bombed to dust. From that point onward he and his family had no choice but to flee, constantly running from place to place, desperately chasing after the hope of finding safety. Jaber, just thirteen years old, has already watched several of the people he loved most have their lives claimed by the bombs dropped on their shelter in Nuseirat.

in his own words: "I share my story today as a child who has lost almost everything: my home, my school, family members, and even my dreams. I am reaching out not only to share the pain but to search for a glimmer of hope to help rebuild our lives."

No child deserves to live a life like this, if you could even call this a life at all; but with our collaborative efforts we can help Jaber and his family live their lives safely, freely, and happily. That's why I'm begging you to skip your daily flavored drink or whatever other minimal treat you typically like to get yourself and donate what you would've spent on it to his campaign. It has already been vetted here; it is also donation-protected if you still find yourself hesitating to donate for any reason--- There is truly nothing to lose here by giving whatever money you can at the moment, but Jaber and his family have everything to gain from your help. Currently as I am writing this (11/29) his campaign is still critically underfunded, with the current total amount raised being €540 / €20,000. Together we have the ability to make a sizeable dent in that number and bring Jaber and his family closer to safety.

#free palestine #gaza evacuation fund #i will add more tags for reach soon i just wanted to get this posted + queued before i go to sleep cuz its 7am somehow?#anyways please share this everywhere you can!!!!!!!! thank youu 🙏

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coffeegnomee · 7 hours ago

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Ooooo you wanna tell me about PrinceZam and Lifesteal lore soo bad 👀👀 (I just started s6 and I'm super interested in it lolol)

Just started season 6. oh me oh my. welcome. I wrote a summary a while ago for s3-5, here it is below.

updated to add the eclipse arc too since i glossed over it last time. and added s6 up to october. 8.5k words.

I didn't hold back on any plot twist/spoilers but like, knowing what happened is very very different from watching it unfold so all videos and vods are well worth watching. but this can give a waypoint as many videos are published months (or years) after the events.

s3 zam made an empire to keep spawn from being grieffed, everyone opposed it because he called it the PrinceZam Empire, they killed him, and he agreed to be executed and banned by Red. He came back for the finale in which vitalasy wanted to revive everyone but then banned himself (or got banned i forget) and keeping everyone unbanned became Zam's job(TM) and he resolved to never give up. After 5 (or so) bases in one week that Spoke leaked every time bc he was secretly still teamed with clownpierce, spoke did a dramatic dialogue with Zam on a hill, "why are you trying to save a world people are actively trying to leave". There was a big war which ended in Zam having another dialogue with Spoke where Zam attacked spoke with a stone ax until spoke continually killed him until he was banned. Spoke got him to give up, spoke won. It was awesome. You can watch Zam's vid on it "i was banned for saving this smp" or the finale streams, both are great recap of s3. (both the spoke dialogues happened in the same vod, it's a really easy watch)

s3 was the best season for yt vids imo, i particularly love clown and branzy's videos on the funhouse, casino, cleansing, and finale vids and if you just watch that you get everything. Everyone had good videos if you start searching channels.

s4 ends with the wormhole, a game breaking glitch that Spoke Vi and Ash found (also Subz was there) and used to completely destroy the server. Before all that the server runs as normal, starting slow with the youtube arc where everyone is making their silly random youtube videos. Zam initially wants to go solo but the joins Team Awesome which is commonly just him Mapicc and Ro but also Spoke and Terrain (iirc). There are many fun shenanigans. a spawn prison, the medusa arc. Around the mid season Team Awesome finds a dupe glitch. They dupe endless gear, god apples, and hearts and get into fights where Mapicc and Zam fight together constantly. this is The Dupe War. There are videos on it, but no streams. It ends with them withering the entirety of spawn, completely annihilating it (there's more to the arc but that is important)

During dupe war Zam and Mapicc thought Spoke was betraying them by orchestrating it with Parrot, turns out it was just Spoke who was orchestrating Everything because part of the wormhole glitch required Spoke to socially engineer Parrot into clicking a sign that would give Ash creative mode. When Ash got creative he loaded his hotbar and the Wormhole Barrel(TM) was brought into the game.

That same day Ash started showing the server the exploits (changing the course of the season DRAMATICALLY). Everything that was going on between the dupe war and this moment got put on pause.

What is everything? Well after the Dupe war Mapicc and Ro were planning on keeping duped items in a stash so they would never have to worry about items. Zam realized he Hated That(TM) bc exploits are unfair. So he left the team dramatically, fought them on the nether roof, and perished fantastically. He then retreated to his sanctuary where he built a castle.

Mapicc finds him at that castle the next day and filled with rage at zam betraying him begins The Castle Arc, fantastic arc, well worth watching as vods on Zam's channel. it's the vod after "the end of team awesome" which is also a great vod. Mapicc torments Zam nearly daily while Zam was also repairing spawn with Subz. Subz, as the finale of his spawn cleanup fights Mapicc and Ro who have become the bbegs of the week, he gets exiled. Zam grows a backbone and ALSO fights them, also looses, and then proceeds to die to Ro 13 more times. This is the Stone Sword Incident.

Left on 2 hearts he does a stream with Clown and Branzy which gets him banned by Mapicc because he had paid Clown one heart to be his protection. So Mapicc thought he still had two. they revive zam and he is left on 3 hearts (or was it 1? I forget. mapicc might've taken two of them back after revival) he turns to his only ally on the server, the only person who came and defended him from mapicc during the castle arc: ItzSubz_.

Subz invited him to his team, the Eclipse Federation. What transpires after here is the most beloved arc in all of lifesteal history, from a fandom perspective. I wrote a whole writeup on why it works so well from a story telling perspective that's one of my first posts on my blog. you can use the #gnome rambles tag to find it easier.

What started as a team, protection, safety from Mapicc, two allies who would come on to fight Mapicc and anyone else whom he got to fight on his side (though subz was more active than vi) turned into a nightmare.

After Ash leaked the wormhole items vi and subz quickly dmed him to meet at the base. Vi (iirc) told him to stop stream and delete the vod, which zam did. Unbeknownst to him, subz accidentally hit go live instead of start recording and for the less than 10 minutes he was live, he and vi implicated themselves as the originators of the wormhole glitch. The secret was out.

By the time they made it to the base to meet with zam they decided to tell zam everything, letting him know that they wanted it to have been a good surprise, something exciting that they could all do together. Vi promised that there was a plan for the items, an arc that he wanted to make happen that he had been planning since the very start of the season. I forget exactly how much they told him, but it was not everything.

Faced with Vi's season long plan, and still not knowing What the plan was, only that it was good, zam agreed to go along with it, trusting subz and vi that they knew what they were doing.

Zam, beyond all reason, had found himself on the very team that was behind the new exploit after just having left Team Awesome over exploits.

He asked if chat could know the plan, and vi and subz both agreed they wanted to keep it secret but that zam could ask off stream. Zam being Zam, could never hide something that huge from chat, didn't want to hide something that huge from chat. So he decided to not know, placing all his trust that Vi would tell him what he needed to know and that everything would be okay.

The doom lifted, for a brief time everything was okay again. But soon enough Vi was ready to start phase 1: a bedrock prison at spawn for the tyrants of the server. Zam didn't like that their team would have the power to imprison people, and he didnt like it was bedrock. He tried to communicate that, and vi and subz both assured him they would only put people in that the server as a whole agreed needed to go in. That helped zam for a short time. i dont remember all the meetings super well, but there were many. one time vi told zam they had "amplified" the glitch. another he said they had a bedrock farm in the end. vi was desperate to keep zam on the team because he loved zam and enjoyed his presence and didnt want the team to fall apart. zam at one point committed fully to the plan and killed himself in a hole to show his commitment (vi also jumped down and also died). the next day they made the prison and the day after zam regretted building out of bedrock. he hated exploits. nothing could shake him from the deep-set hatred that this was unfair for the server. he didnt want to ruin vi's plan, but he didn't know if he could continue supporting it.

around and around he went. changing his thoughts based on what vi said, changing based on subz, changing based on chat, changing based on vi. Feeling trapped, seeing no hope in being understood he roamed the server in despair. filled with the weight that the exploits would get worse in phases 2-5 he shouldered the burden without being able to tell anyone.

Beyond anything else he felt completely indebted to subz and loved subz more than anyone. subz had fought for him and protected him from mapicc, he had taken him in and given him hearts and gear to get back on his feet, he was always there ready to log on and help zam fight or save him when jumped.

Around this time there were many conversations with bacon and planet. They had seen some of the exploits, spoke was leaking them slowly since the prison was built, spawning a warden and endermite that could one tap players, using potions that gave you all the effects in the game. pvp was a thing of the past.

Bacon and Planet were investigating, trying to figure out who was pulling the strings and where the plot might go. Pretty quickly they figured out zam knew a lot, but zam wouldn't tell.

When Vi made the prison, they interviewed him, and planet got so upset that all this plot looked to be was a prison that could be used, not even would be used that he immediately started talking to bacon about getting zam to leave eclipse. he had previously been a proponent of zam sticking it out because being in the thick of content is always good on this server even if you don't love the methods. Zam was ready to leave the team but he was wracked with guilt and the fear of being alone again just like he was after betraying team awesome. they invited him to their team if he left, but he was still hesitant. he cared about subz too much to leave.

A few days later zam one again invited Branzy on, knowing that the next day he would have to make a decision about being on eclipse. There was a meeting scheduled about the next phase tomorrow. Spoke turned branzy into a dolphin with a potion and after the shenanigans, zam asked branzy for advice about what he should do. it's one of my favorite stream moments from s4, branzy approaches the lore with great seriousness and helps zam work through his thoughts to figure out what he wants to do. zam doesn't quite make a decision but has many talking points for the meeting, equipped with new metaphors to explain how he's feeling and how he needs vi to promise change, not just do little things that don't mean anything in the big picture.

At the end of the conversation planet joins call and starts asking zam innocent questions. he finds out about the book that vi once showed zam that had the whole wormhole plan, zam says it's in one of the bases, but not which, and he ends stream soon after. But once stream ends he gets curious to reread what vi wrote so he journeys to the base. Upon arrival though he realizes planet and bacon are both in the area. He sees them through the wall and walks into a room he has never seen before filled with barrels. planet and bacon drag him into a call and show him that the room is filled with every exploit and more, things they hadn't seen yet.

Seeing the extent of where the wormhole would go, and supported (or influenced depending on how you look at it) by planet and bacon, zam finally commits to leaving eclipse. he can't be part of this. this is too much. these exploits are far far worse than anything team awesome did.

So the next day he makes his traitor's requiem. He confronts vi, bacon planet and jaron come through the end portal invis and they kill vi, marking zam's departure from the team. Vi is furious zam didn't come to them, that he would betray so callously and kill him so instantly. Subz resignedly accepts that zam never was going to be able to be a part of the team, he was too against exploits.

Wracked with the pain of betrayal and loosing the person he loved deeply even though he had lied to him, Vi started to embrace the wormhole powers. Through a different glitch he was able to fly in survival, and with the one tap potions he tormented planet in the prison, killing him over and over and giving the heart back. but he insisted that he was not going to use the powers to become evil.

over the next days vi would roam the server using exploits, a ghost on the wind debating what to do with his infinite power. bacon and planet and zam got him in a call to talk about how vi was being a villain and they wanted him to give up the exploits. vi refused to see what they were saying.

but then spoke, lead by parrot and mapicc and ro, took a power play and tried chunk banning vi to end the evil on the server. parrot leaked the plan to vi and vi got out, but once again vi was facing the ridicule of the server for something that he wasn't even wanting to be.

So vi gave up the exploits. summoned the whole server to himself and burned all the items in his echest. but the server didnt believe him for a second. they were convinced he had more exploits hidden in the world. they were convinced he was the villain and were angry he wasn't just doing things with it.

but vi was done. spoke (iirc) killed him and after leaving call vi found himself atop the prison, gazing down at the server he loved, the server that hated him. it was over. he threw himself from its height over and over until he was banned.

after the ban, zam was left listless. he had betrayed eclipse because he feared they would be evil, but vi just banned himself off, sealing into the story that he would not be the villain. he couldn't talk to subz, he was too ashamed. so he became a farmer and lived inside subz's floating islands at spawn.

but one day while he was on subz revived vitalasy. zam wasn't invited but he busied himself at his farm, hoping his old teammates might want to talk to him. But something far far worse was about to happen. a ban message rang through chat. subz was killed by vitalasy. subz left the game.

his world shattered. The one person he cared about was gone. gone and he couldn't even talk to him. couldn't tell him how much he regretted betraying them. he needed to revive subz. right. now. he got vi into a call, a bottle of sunshine, sure it was just a mistake, sure subz was not really gone.

But vi was crying. he didn't explain it all to zam, but subz had brought him back on the server to tour him around their bases. filled with grief vi dragged his feet from location to location. eventually subz brought him to his newest base, and in the corner he could see a room filled with signs spelling out depression. lost, alone, a failed team that he had brought together, now split apart. vi immediately realized what subz was about to do. subz brought him to the end and revealed his masterpiece base, and then told vi to kill him. he wasn't capable of reuniting the team while he was alive, maybe in death vi and zam could reconcile. He was determined to have vi kill him. vi refused for an hour until he finally got subz to promise to return when he needed him most. And he banned him.

vi had zam meet him in the end and faced with that innocent smiling idiot's face, vi had almost no words. subz had left him a book telling him his final wish was for them to reconcile and vi begrudgingly decided to let zam in. he showed zam the end base. zam apologized instantly, wanting nothing more than for everything to be all right. but his focus was completely on reviving subz, almost ignoring vi in his desperation to get subz back. two lost birds.

vi explained that subz wanted to be gone and even if they revived him he wouldn't come back. they agree to be teammed again, and i think it's this zam vod or the next time he talks to vi, but within 30 minutes he's regretting saying yes to everything and wondering if it was the wrong thing to reconcile and get back together with vi. so. still good old princezam.

but it was done. they were reconciled. as the wormhole approached zam reconciled with everyone he had wronged.

but he forgot about pangi. in the wake of vi banning himself zam no longer wanted to do a "trap the gods" idea with pangi since the exploits were over. time and again this season zam had preferred his own plan over pangi's and often fought against him even though the two were friends. even though pangi was always there to help zam with his plans. frustrated at being snubbed, pangi took zam through the course they had made together, ending with the void trap they were going to use to lock the exploiters under the bedrock.

zam jumped in willingly, having taken off all his gear so as to not loose it in the void, but pangi had repaired the bedrock with the bedrock they had stolen from ash. pangi gave a great villain speech and trapped zam in bedrock. zam accepted his fate. so full of regret for all his action this season, this was nothing compared to what he felt he deserved.

And zam broke. he entered his mind and confronted all his past selves. his eclipse self tells him he cant just give up and abandon vi again, not after everything. zam thinks he has hurt vi too much to ever be forgiven. his team awesome (i think) self tells him he should just give up and destroy the server instead of wallowing in self pity.

he kills himself with a water bucket (ooc pangi had dropped it to him so he could get out) and decides to talk to both vi and spoke to figure out what side of the wormhole he would be on. vi isn't available. so he speaks to spoke first.

he meets spoke on a hill just like in s3, and asks to join him in ending the server. spoke reveals that he has not just all the exploits, but op. he gives zam creative mode, shows him custom items he coded, transports a whole chunk of the overworld to the end, gets in a console battle with parrot's admin account and wins. spoke is in complete control of the server.

mapicc was already on spoke's side and so once again devotions are together, fighting side by side just like on team awesome.

zam talks to vi next and iirc doesn't tell him he's already joined spoke, he's aware he has a team secret to keep and either way vi says he doesn't have plans for the finale. i actually dont remember when vi finds out zam is on the wormhole side.

over the next week spoke does prep events for the wormhole, involving inactive server members, mapicc and zam corrupt the world (grass to netherack, wood to basalt) with boots spoke coded for them. devotions wonder if spoke will betray them, they dont like that they're just minions and not equals, spoke isnt giving them actual power, just toys and tricks. they promise to end the server together no matter what happens.

the night before the end zam wonders if he's making the wrong decision again, the chatters fan the flames and he works himself up into second guessing everything. spoke might betray him. planet has found out he's on spokes side and hates him. he's messing everything up again. he was so against exploits and now he put himself on the exploit team.

suddenly he realizes chat is the problem. he's trying to make everyone happy, even chat, and he needs to just decide to do what he thinks he should do. and he decides that he wants to end the server as fast as possible so that subz can return in s4. because it's always been about subz.

the day of the wormhole arrives and about 100 other mcyts join the server to kill parrot, planet, bacon, and jaron. earlier spoke had said if they can survive the wormhole he will give up the exploits and they can save the server before ending it. over the next 48 hours they play a protect the president event.

vi revives subz the first day and suddenly zam is faced with the object of his desires back on this server. they have a final terribly tragic conversation where subz is disappointed in zam for joining spoke, zam cant defend himself because he agrees with subz, vi joins and chews zam out for betraying and tells him if he didn't want to play he should have just logged off. vi and subz are on parrot's side and killing people with leftover exploits vi still had. they leave, and zam even more dejected than ever.

planet decides to live the whole event at 3 hearts despite parrot having gathered 100 over the season. right at the end spoke asks both sides for items to ban and eventually hearts get banned, so planet is stuck at 3. in the final moments he almost gets banned but minute (as a guest) has planet kill him to get a heart again (minute's video on the wormhole was actually really good btw), but mapicc catches up to planet and bans him in the last 10 seconds of the event.

spoke, because the players fought so hard, brings everyone to the control room telling them they can choose to save the server or end it. while the server discusses mapicc and zam message each other and decide to jump in both options at once so that the server has to end. there's a final conversation on the grass where vi says this was the ending he wanted.

the long and complicated season is over.

s5 starts slow, Zam is very much done with being the main character and not much happens for about like 5 months. zam takes a full 3 month break from streaming, but when he returns in january he joins Mapicc and Bacon and they invite Jumper and Pentar to make the Abyss. they start breaking bedrock at spawn and getting players to fall into the void. its a fun and long and shenanigan filled arc that takes a deep turn as themes of players leaving the server start setting in. This season rek left before it started and parrot, poafa, mid, subz, and vi all leave mid way through. lifesteal feels like it's crumbling.

After days of fighting, planet gets zam into a call and asks him why the abyss is doing all of this. zam mentions mulitple things but lands on player activity. planet walks to the void hole and says "if the goal is player activity then, in a way i guess you lost" and then jumps into the void. the ban sound pierces the air announcing planet having been on one heart that whole time.

The abyss is mortified. They did like their idea of player activity but planet was right, just killing memebers made them give up. so they concoct a new plan, a week long scavenger hunt for the rest of the server to complete: if they finish the Abyss will stop voiding all of spawn, if they dont spawn will be destroyed. Minute heads up the opposition in the Foundation.

for multiple 9-12 hour streams zam labors at building the freakinator to destroy 5 layers of bedrock. mapicc joins him most often, usually just sitting in call to keep him company but being there nonetheless. Jumper and Pentar start helping more once the scavenger hunt really starts while bacon joins call to work on the clues. many fun hours of banter and laughter fill the air.

jumper pentar and mapicc take valorant breaks much to zams embitterment. jumper accidentally gets pentar to fall into the void with multiple skulkers of pistons, enraging zam. zam and jumper both are filled with excitement at the future making all of spawn into parkour civilization.

the whole arc zam has to face the concept that he cares more about this project than anyone else on the team, even though the abyss wasn't originally his idea. he has to fight constantly to battle the bitter voices that tell him they don't care about him and are bad teammates. only mapicc stays in the positive light. everyone else drains resources and falls into the void with the pistons he spent hours crafting.

As the scavenger hunt continues (oh day one of the scavenger hunt wemmbu demands 50 hearts or he will orbital strike spawn. foundation and abyss join together to unite the server in stopping him. spoke leaks the orbital coords he got bc he is owner to ash and the foundation take the win at being the one to destroy the canon and spawn trap wemmbu to 2 hearts. though the shot still went off and a large portion of spawn got destroyed despite the server trying to waterlog everything)

the foundation runs through clues faster than the abyss thought they would, so bacon adds some extra steps at the end. minute gets frustrated and decides to log on before the final session starts to try and finish the hunt. zam is planning on breaking the first bedrock to void at 3pm and minute wants to beat him to it.

despite everything, in a mad rush right at the end, the foundation gets the final clue at 2:55pm. they are to give the abyss one task of their choosing. they are in control. they decide the abyss members should die to the void once and never break bedrock again. The players jumped into the void.

But what nobody saw coming, or none dared imagine even when there were signs, was Jumper was secretly on the Foundation's side and leaked the scavenger hunt answers whenever the Foundation got stuck.

All the work, all those pistons, stopped in an instant. The betrayal was one of the most insane things to happen on lifesteal ever. three months of deep cover. actively helping the team. dreaming of parkour civilization together. multiple trust tests and steadfast dedication promised. all lies.

Mapicc immediately tries to kill her, Zam helps but both give up as Minute defends Jumper and both fight them back. There is no resolution to the betrayal. (Clown's video of this arc covers the whole Foundation side and is great)

Mapicc vows to destroy her life, Bacon agrees, Zam is down with it. Leaving Pentar to have the difficult choice: stay on the team and destroy the only member he knew before joining the server, or leave. He leaves. Later he joins Jumper and Minute as a team

Mapicc and Zam try fighting Minute and Jumper over and over but fail again and again.

The Presidency Arc begins, the server elects one person to get legal exploits basically: changing three things about the server. 4C and Reddoons together win, disappointing Mapicc and Zam greatly as red and 4c were extremely inactive and only wanted CaptainSparklez on for one event, removed the heart recipe, and had a third thing so forgettable i dont remember it and it didnt happen.

Basically they stalled out the already stalled progression of the server. Nobody was doing any big arcs since the abyss weeks before, the last arc was soundly destroyed by betrayal and no revenge was possible bc Minute and Jumper were just slightly better pvpers than Mapicc and Zam.

With the captainsparklez event on the horizon, Zam being lower on hearts, and having just died to Minute and Jumper in a fight where he semi-illegally restocked, was called into the principle's office with Ash (owner of s5 with spoke). Ash told him off, and then was reminded that he didn't remove heart crafting recipe, so he did that and told Zam to just kill 4C and Mid if he wanted more hearts.

Once again Ash is changing the trajectory of the server. Zam goes into a moral quandary bc he's kind of evil this season but is he THAT evil to kill two non-pvpers? While they're building? In the middle of the debate Ash logs on again and /msg him why they're still alive. So Zam kills 4c. He feels awful and spirals and goes to his and Pangi's base to think, but upon seeing their bed, realizes he could just farm Pangi off the server. Or just take half his hearts. The idea is so horrible, the depths of darkness so great, that he just starts laughing. and laughing. and laughing. (vod: "an agent of chaos is born")

So begins Zam's Joker arc, incredibly relevant to s6. Throughout the Abyss, Minute had been calling himself batman, and thus became the fixation of the Joker arc.

The presidency had also passed to Minute who had run saying he would do pvp style events but then just added the aether, changed the kit, and added the Blaze and Caves achievement race (BAC). And he was already talking about ending the server in peace.

This upset Mapicc Bacon and Zam, who had become The Players by this time. After consulting with Spoke (bc he always ends the server), they came up with a plan to break up all the teams. Mapicc started reaching out to Clown and Leo to see if they would betray the PMC, their team with Minute. And they came up with the plan to try and steal the presidency from Minute after his term was up (3 weeks, 3 changes) and use it to make the server hardcore, thinking they would finally be able to kill Minute and Jumper.

Zam full on went onto his Joker arc, blowing up builds, having people choose to blow up builds, fight each other, and a host of other Joker inspired moral dilemmas. minute told zam that the reason he wanted to join lifesteal was because he looked up to him for his s3 heroism. (vod: "murder chicken machine") Jumper also had a great yap session with zam at this time ("your president doesn't care about you")

Zam's main tactic was taking all his armor off in front of minute and jumper, taunting them to kill him and break their peaceful ending. If they wanted him to stop destroying the server they could just kill him.

But they refused. over and over.

Then the Blaze and Caves event happened, Minute's final presidency event. whoever got the most achievements from the 900 or so new ones would get a heart cap of 30. Zam being Zam loves small tasks and went on a week of 12 hour streams to get them all, stopping all Joker activities.

In this week Mapicc made fun of Minute for not just killing Zam and over the course of the conversation Minute agreed to bet the presidency bc Mapicc implied that they were just opposing Minute bc Minute stole the presidency from Mapicc bc the vote was rigged after the CaptainSparlez event. If Mapicc could get the majority of the server to vote him out, he would step down.

Wemmbu approached Mapicc and I forget who suggested it first but what came out of it was Wemmbu would pay everyone who voted for him $500, Mapicc wanted Wemmbu to get the presidency bc he thought more people would vote for Wemmbu over him, and then proceeded to convince everyone on the server to vote against minute within like a 2 hour span. (you can watch the entire thing go down live on Zam's vod. it was incredible)

Minute was completely cooked. The presidency was ripped out from under him, Clown and Leo voted against him, everything was rigged from the start while he still believed the server would vote for what was right, not what was interesting, and definitely not for irl money.

Minute's vod "meet the yappers" is a vod of all time.

That Saturday the BAC achievement race was finished and Zam got 30 hearts, Pentar came in second and got 25.

The server got turned to hardcore, and the Players accidentally killed Bacon with an arrow cannon like 5 minutes into it that they were planning on using on the whole server.

With the presidency gone, Pentar, Minute (Brandon), Ash, and Jumper became officially PB(And)J and gave up being the nice guys. They were still self-proclaimed the good guys and they still wanted peace, they just had to kill a few people and then there would be peace on lifesteal.

So they, all four of them, jumped Zam and killed him in a couple minutes flat when zam had threatened to blow up the vitalasy hole, Vi's last place on the server before leaving. It was the classic Joker threat, but he went to actually do it bc Ash was being extra obnoxious in the call. And then got instantly murdered. and Zam was banned.

Then like a week later (iirc?) Jumper asked Mapicc on to talk, she told him she regretted betraying the Abyss, that pb&j wanted to kill people and she just wanted the server to end in peace, and that she wanted Mapicc to kill and ban her so she could end her season on her terms.

It was a trap. Minute shot Mapicc with an arrow cannon. Killing him instantly.

They then got Wemmbu on and used their presidency power that was left over to cancel out his presidency power of immortality (it was just as confusing as that sounds) and killed him instantly.

Wemmbu didn't like that(TM) so he changed the tnt damage to 100 and dropped a nuke on them instantly killing Jumper Ash and Pentar. But that was unfair(TM) (and he lagged the server illegally to do it) so it was undone.

As a result Zam borrowed Pangi's account and Mapic borrowed Spoke's and they were back on to oppose this peaceful ending. Clown and Ro also locked in and were super active in the finale.

Wemmbu's next presidency thing (this was before they killed him. whatever. time moved weirdly in the finale) was the blessings and curses, Zam was pretty much emotionally done with the server, so in a final act of GayJoker flare, blessed Minute with fire res (which was useless bc Minute had 64 notch apples).

Mapicc and Clown were Not Happy with this, Mapicc took it as a betrayal, which upset Zam a lot because his whole thing this season was not betraying his team bc that's all he did s4. So he locked in for the finale. Pangi's account accidentally got banned, so he borrowed Spepticle's account.

Minute and co were not logging on a lot, even though they had a whole meeting about them playing at least a couple of hours a day so The Players could actually try and ban them and it would be a real finale event. Mapicc pulled out Salty Mode and once again got Minute to cave and Jumper and Pentar logged on and they did a 4v3. Clown out general'ed Minute and Minute got banned and Pentar got banned. Speptical logged onto his account to kick Zam off mid fight which was a delightfully great bit of possession control.

Jumper had to survive two days and got Squiddo and Ash to help, the three of them tried chunk banning Clown and Ro and Mapicc (zam got banned by clown so they couldnt use Spep's account to get Mintue back on). Mapicc died bc Squiddo made a mod to tap into Wemmbu's mod from his presidency and she nuked him and he died from an elytra glitch.

Eventually the next day Jumper and co chunk banned everyone, but clown and Ro walked out of it bc you can join and move a bit before you get kicked. Jumper elected to stay canonically in the ban and give up, even though they let the ban despawn by accident and she could log on. She conceded the event.

Everyone went to Branzy's carnival which had been happening in parallel to all of this the past couple months. They celebrate his final moments on lifesteal, and bid adieu to one of lifesteal's most beloved members. He won't be joining season 6.

And then we have s6.

Zam starts the season deciding to never kill a player again. he will just build peacefully at spawn, swearing off violence in the wake of his violence in the joker arc and s5 in general.

within 12 days he is killed by pentar on bacon's suggestion, killed by mapicc 3 times in a row, killed by bacon and planet's trap which they pulled to stop leo from killing him, along with a host of other small moments that almost make zam break.

on the 12th day he tries building a shulker farm for hours and hours. pangi bothers him throughout the whole process and he shoots him with his bow to get him to go away over and over. in a bout of frustration over the farm not working he builds a closet to lock the spirit of the joker in. he tells bacon about the closet and how he has terrible nightmares and the demon in his closet tells him to kill people. eventually he gives up on the farm but later that night he logs on to mess with bacon more. bacon and planet manage to piss him off within a couple of minutes and he again starts using his bow to shoot at them in petty frustration.

but planet takes off all his armor and takes an arrow to the head, popping like a grape. zam got his first kill.

that night he stalks spepticle and is menacing in the distance. he tells spep he wont remember this when he wakes up but spep will.

the next day he's in agony over what he has done. pangi comforts him and tells him its not his fault. zam builds a tree and writes his first oath, swearing to never crit or bow at players ever again.

satisfied that he's learning to control his bloodlust he decides to try and get to 20 hearts from building because mapicc asks him to build him a castle. the next day flame asks him to build him a volcano for 3 hearts which makes him raise the price on mapicc's castle also up to 3 hearts (after two conversations)

at the same time squiddo, 4c, and cube run the peace trials to decide who they will give the mace to. eventually they choose clown because he put his all into it.

as time continues more and more people choose to follow zam in pacifism. woogie swears off violence after mane blows up their base and red kills kab. kab swears off violence after going in a box for a week to process red killing her. pangi swears off violence so people feel comfortable coming to his recording events. zam hates that people are copying him. it was never about making lifesteal peaceful, it was about his own bloodlust.

one day flame comes to spawn during session asking for a 10v1 fight. everyone thinks there has to be a trap, but he denies it. mapicc starts getting people involved for the fight and they get about 5-6 people because zam woogie and pangi all refuse bc pacifism and terrain never pvps and has no gear.

right at the end zam decides to let go of his oath for a day to participate in the fight so flame can do his idea. he wont kill flame but he will crit him. but flame decides there's not enough players and he hears that rek and others will just run if they get low and flame wants to kill them all, not end in running. so he cancels the fight to plan it another day.

everyone disperses and logs off but a bit later wemmbu calls zam back to spawn so he can watch them blow it up. flame is destroying builds to piss off the players so they will want to fight him. zam is horrified and gives himself up as a fight so flame will stop. flame and wemmbu kill him and keep blowing it up because it was never the point. they want a 10v1 not a princezam alone.

flame burns down zam's tree and as the fire consumes the tree zam can only helplessly look on while flame and wemmbu mock him in vc.

Zam almost breaks. But pangi logs on right after and he suddenly realizes he can rebuild spawn over and over from a schematic and nothing is bad at all. Skipping away he starts gaia's hand, a group of players who will help him rebuild spawn and fight flame. He's afraid of getting so involved and so close to fighting because it might make him slip up and break, but if flame burning his tree couldn't make him change he didn't think anything could.

pangi takes it upon himself to talk to flame, giving him lite therapy to get him to see that people take time to build and building is enjoyable by building a house with him. flame begrudgingly builds the house thinking it's dumb the whole time. but pangi gets him to agree to not blow up spawn anymore and pagni will organize flame's fight for him. but minutes later wemmbu logs on and starts blowing up mapicc's castle. pangi is helpless to stop him because of his pacifism and he's pissed that flame can't control his teammates. he leaves telling flame to stop wemmbu or the fight is off. minutes later again flame calls him back to the house they built and wemmbu has blown it up. flame is completely dejected and feels like he cant stop wemmbu and also that it isn't his problem to fix. pangi gives him one final chance, but he's at the end of his rope. but they leave agreeing to get flame the fight.

zam gets into mccr and leaves the server for this week to practice, during his absence the fight happens, but right as the 10 people stand together in a pre-fight pep talk mapicc and spoke tnt minecart the whole circle, killing everyone. the players are pissed and refuse to fight again. mapicc says its because wemmbu blew up his castle, and that flame needs to kill wemmbu and he can have his fight. mapicc and wemmbu end up fighting and bc mapicc was on his phone hotspot he starts to loose so he runs from the fight. in retaliation the server griefs his castle, enemies and friends together.

after the cart incident zam logs on to get updated, pangi and mapicc both hate how flame is bullying the server into getting his fight and they promise to stop flame.

in the ashes of his tree, zam no longer has an oath, so he writes a new one that focuses on refusing to kill and refusing to use violence to solve his problems. he's emboldened by his idea to rebuild spawn over and over whenever flame destroys it, convinced he will outlast him.

flame logs on and zam gets him to admit he can't control wemmbu and also cant betray wemmbu bc wemmbu has something over him that will ruin him. zam this time promises to get flame his fight if he can convince wemmbu to stop blowing up spawn. he logs off to win mccr the following weekend, and the day he returns flame has decided to do his fight during session and uses 1000 dogs to aid him.

also while he was gone kab killed planet twice, almost banning him but then gave back the hearts.

zam is left listless, there is nobody to fight. he builds a field of daisies to frolic in. he doesn't know what he will do. where his journey will take him. but for now he's content. he has completely become the pacifist.

days later mapicc calls him to his castle and reveals that he's been stalking him for months and trying to get him to break and start killing. it has obviously been unsuccessful. at one point about a month before he had taken off his armor and started attacking zam and zam still refused to hit him, only doing it accidentally before running away and getting out. mapicc offers him hearts if he kills him and zam easily refuses. they end the arc teammates rather than enemies.

with nothing going on in the server, bacon decides that while mapicc prefers having zam as a friend, he prefers having zam as an enemy and so he choses to join wemmbu to help guide him to do more interesting arcs. wemmbu takes him in and same day kab leaks spep's location and wemmbu kills spep with bacon in tow and the team starts to form.

that same day bacon starts training kab to learn to escape fights, during it kab sets her bed in front of him. a little later mane logs on and kills kab bc they have a feud going on since the start of the season, and then finds that bed and kills her again. kab immediately thinks bacon betrayed her and sends hannah after him to kill him, he dies in one hit because he's on 4 hearts and then dies again trying to get his stuff back and is overall rather pissed at kab and hannah because he didn't leak the bed. they get wemmbu on and update him and bacon refuses to team if kab doesn't give the heart back. it ends unresolved but a couple days later kab gives bacon the hearts and the california girls becomes a team (name will come later).

zam thinks bacon is being fishy so he investigates him but wemmbu leaks pretty quickly that they're a team. but then wemmbu gets hannah to kill poafa at spawn twice and zam can do nothing but watch and give poafa two of his own hearts. he's left with nothing to do and no ideas of how to fight wemmbu without fighting.

mapicc drops his stalking video and then dies to wemmbu in a 1v1 and zam logs on in time to see him die. bc of both things he's sent into a reflection turmoil over who he is on this server. mapicc has got him feeling like the team awesome days and it scares him. who do the players on the server view him as? he realizes independence was nice, but it's also isolating and he's all alone. he resolves to find teammates. but even so he doesn't have options he likes at all.

then one day bacon revives planet, and wemmbu kills planet twice and all the members of the server are too afraid of wemmbu to attack him and protect planet. zam is crushed but still doesn't know what to do. he gives planet hearts from his own hotbar, but he's running low and he vowed to not kill and he doesn't want to slip and go down a route that will make him evil again.

then while musing over ideas he flies to spawn and sees derap and mid, touching down he intends to chat, but derap kills mid, banning her instantly. horrified zam asks him why but derap just says it's because there were no repercussions to his actions. that word sticks in zam's brain and he realizes wemmbu has never had to face any sort of repercussions for his actions.

bacon and mapicc log on and zam shares his realization and him and mapicc decide to use zam as bait to get wemmbu into a fight where mapicc and spoke can kill wemmbu with zam as support (not using strength). they get the fight, flame joins in, but mapicc and spoke both die and zam gets out. zam, in post fight talking with chat admits that he's felt more happy while fighting than he has most of the season. he starts to very seriously consider changing his oath to allow fighting, but he doesn't want to do it by his own choice so he asks poafa and kab on.

the poafa conversation is very dear to me, zam admits that the whole reason he did pacifism was because of the "chicken murder machine" conversation with minute s5 where minute said he was inspired by zam s3. Zam has been wanting to reconnect with who he was in season 3 so he swore off fighting and vowed to protect the server at all costs. poafa gently helps him see he's not fighting on fair ground and it wouldn't be bad to fight. that he is capable of looking at the reasons he's fighting and choosing to not go too far.

he talks to kab, and feels good enough to choose a new title, pacifism never fit, but first derap comes back asking what the heck happened because he saw the mapicc and spoke death messages and zam and mapiccs banter with flame after the fight so he knows zam fought. zam admits what he said earlier changed everything and that he is going to fight from now on.

after derap leaves he writes a third oath, this one labeling him a protector of spawn, and collects a sword "galaxia, the protector sword" plus a bunch of strength pots from a barrel right by leo's void hole that he has stashed a couple of days ago as he thought over this arc change. (this is the vod PRIDE)

that brings it to 10/15/24

since then there's been small things that may or may not be relevant as the season continues to unfold. zam is still in his protector arc. mane has taken up the mantle of destroying spawn. a couple weekends ago there was a massive battle for spawn trying to kill mane once so he would stop. it all failed. minute became a legend for trying to 1v1 mane and lost but maybe won the ideological battle. mapicc's team built an orbital cannon to use against mane and involved zam. devotions have had incredible lore. kab is doing something with zam that who knows how will end. derap is doing lore with zam.

we are firmly in the mid season where all early things matter and we're establishing all the relationships that will matter for the end of season lore. and this mane spawn destruction may very well be the mid season economic miracle like the cleansing, dupe war, and abyss were in previous seasons. We'll see if anyone does anything bigger after him. Seasons usually end around may/june so there's still plenty of time to go unless they decide to go rogue.

#gnome rambles #lifesteal

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bobalegsanji · 1 day ago

Text

Are you there?

‘’This didn’t happen.’’

‘’It did, and we’re going to talk about it,’’ Zoro says, not caring about what Sanji has to say. ‘’You’re not doing well, and we’re going to fix it.’’

Sanji sighs. He’s still leaning on Zoro, he desperately needs Zoro’s steadiness as his feet occasionally trip over one another. ‘’I’m doing just fine,’’ he responds, barely audible.

Modern Zosan AU. Fluff/Angst. Words: 11,824.

Trigger Warnings: disordered eating, anxiety/panic attacks, depression, self-worth issues.

One Piece Masterlist

‘’Cook?!’’

‘’Hmm,’’ Sanji responds softly, not fully awake yet.

‘’Cook?!!’’ Zoro’s words are accompanied by a loud slam.

Sanji peeks one eye open, annoyed at being woken up. The mossball knows he’s not supposed to slam the door of the living room. There’s a table right behind, and if slammed too hard, Usopp’s botanical books always fall over and - he feels his pulse rise with annoyance once more.

Once he realises there’s nothing important coming from Zoro’s mouth (when is there ever?), he closes his eyes again and makes himself comfortable on the pillows on the couch.

‘’Cook, are you deaf?’’

‘’Hmmmmmm,’’ Sanji whines. ‘’Whaddyawant,’’ the pile of pillows and blankets murmurs.

‘’Is dinner ready yet?’’ Zoro asks, his question assisted with a poke that lands somewhere between Sanji’s ribs.

‘’Ugh, fuck you,’’ Sanji reacts, immediately sitting up. ‘’Why would you ever do that?’’

Zoro shrugs his shoulders. ‘’Be awake when I talk to you.’’

‘’What do you-’’ Sanji starts, unsure of how to put all of his feelings of anger into one sentence while his head’s still fuzzy with sleep. ‘’What the fuck do you-No?? I was sleeping?’’

‘’And I’m hungry,’’ Zoro responds.

Sanji stares at him for a couple of seconds. He’s been living with his best friends for over a year, yet they still find new ways to piss him off daily.

‘’I’m going to say this once, very slowly, so your dumb head can follow me, alright?’’ He says calmly. ‘’Fuck off.’’

Zoro just rolls his eyes. His hand stretches to get ready for another poke, but Sanji slaps it with a pillow before he can reach him. ‘’I’m serious, order something. Or not, don’t eat, I don’t care.’’

He ignores the confused look in Zoro’s eyes, instead picks up the comfiest blanket he’d been sleeping under to take to his room.

Before he can get out of the living room, Zoro finds his words. ‘’But… It’s Tuesday? You never let us order food on weekdays?’’

Without missing a step, Sanji responds. ‘’I’m tired, figure it out yourself today.’’

Zoro is left to stare at the empty living room, the couch still messy from Sanji’s nap. A bedroom door slams closed somewhere upstairs.

Sanji never leaves the shared places messy. Or takes naps during the day.

‘’Food!’’ Luffy screams loudly throughout the house.

Sanji could curse him right now, even though he knows Luffy’s just excited at getting to eat junk food on a weekday. Usually, he cooks every day. The last time he hasn’t must’ve been during finals, which was months ago.

He sighs deeply, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and mentally preparing himself for the dinner he’s about to have. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to them - it’s just that he’s been feeling a migraine coming up since morning, he hasn’t had an appetite all day, and no matter how much he sleeps it doesn’t seem to recharge his empty social battery. It’s exhausting, even more so to try and not bite Zoro’s head off right now. Usually, he can keep his annoyances in check, but today? Not a chance.

‘’Sanji, Usopp, dinner!’’ Nami’s voice echoes through the house. He can ignore Luffy for a few minutes, but never his beautiful Nami.

‘’Coming, my sweet,’’ he calls after her, unsure if it’s loud enough for her to hear. Based on the loud chattering and clinking of silverware in the kitchen, they don’t care, anyway.

Before he leaves his bedroom, he takes a quick look in the mirror. Embarrassedly, he immediately takes off his shirt. How long have I been wearing this? Since Sunday morning?

It’s not something anyone else would bat an eye at, or even notice, but it’s not something he usually does. Shirts are for during the day, pajamas for during the night, and they are worn a maximum of two days- Sanji sighs, putting on a new shirt and promising himself to take it off before sleeping.

It hasn’t been this bad ever since they got to live together. He can’t spiral now, he can’t let them see .

A knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts.

‘’Are you downstairs?’’ Usopp’s voice travels through the door.

‘’Yea, no- no,’’ Sanji falls over his words. He opens the door, suddenly happy to have some distraction. ‘’I needed to get changed.’’

Usopp looks him up and down for a moment. ‘’Okay… I just wanted to check if you were here.’’

‘’Ahh…’’ Sanji feels a blush spread on his cheeks. ‘’Yea, I just… Never mind.’’

Usopp takes a moment to study his face, but quickly seems to find what he’s looking for. ‘’Let’s go, I think they ordered pizza. Don’t want Luffy to finish everything before we even got a slice.’’

Sanji nods as he follows Usopp downstairs.

He’s going to be fine. He’s going to eat, get a good night’s sleep, and turn this whatever-is-going-on around. He’ll be fine.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The outside air leaves a noticeable blush on Sanji’s cheeks. In the mirror, he sees nothing but pale skin and a red nose. He feels numb, both from the cold and his recent lack of enthusiasm to do anything.

The day wasn’t bad- a morning lecture at 11 always gives him enough time to cook a proper breakfast (at least, that’s what he’d usually do. Today, Sanji woke up way too late, having to rush to be on time without any food). On the third Thursday of the month, the local market is always bigger than usual. Usually, he’d spend at least an hour strolling through the market covering multiple streets. It’s relaxing to taste new and common foods, to buy local ingredients for the house, and to plan meals for their household: today, he merely rushed past it. Not even the seafood stall was worth a glance at.

Quietly, he takes off his shoes and jacket, putting all the items in their respective places. Even though the time for lunch has been long past, and he hasn’t eaten anything all day, the idea of preparing or eating food makes his stomach churn.

He takes one last look in the mirror. It’s not like he needs to eat, anyway. He knows the occasional joking remarks of Luffy and Usopp are exactly that, jokes, but maybe they’re onto something. He could lose a little weight.

He pinches his cheeks, noticing the way they’re definitely chubbier than they used to be. It’s not the end of the world to skip lunch. Someone will take care of dinner, and he’ll eat that, but right now he’d rather go to his bedroom to recharge his social battery. It’ll be fine. As long as no one notices, it’ll be fine.

‘’Sanji-kun, are you home?’’ Nami’s sweet voice strolls in from the living room.

‘’My sweet,’’ he immediately swoons, trying hard to imitate the happy tone of speech reserved for his favourite ladies.

Nami’s sitting on the couch, cross-legged with a book perched up on her legs. Her eyes light up when she sees him standing in the doorway. ‘’Do you have plans tonight?’’

‘’Well-’’ Sanji starts, but gets interrupted immediately.

‘’I need a ride to the cinema tonight, could you…?’’ She bats her eyes, knowing exactly what she’s doing to his heart.

Or, usually does to his heart. Today, Sanji notices, but he doesn’t feel anything. Nothing seemed to penetrate the armour of melancholy that had wrapped its way around his heart.

He forces a smile. Even though he’s not feeling his best, he could never let Nami down. ‘’Of course, what time would you like to leave?’’

‘’You’re the best!’’ She smiles, jumping up to give him a hug. Her book falls to the ground. Sanji keeps his eyes trained on it until Nami pulls her arms back, and he feels the cold air of the room engulf him once more. He hadn’t realised how warm she was. ‘’I want to leave at 6, but you should come with me! Perona is going to be there, too. She’s been asking about you,’’ she winks.

Sanji feels a slight blush creep up his cheeks. ‘’Oh, I can’t tonight, my love. Maybe next time?’’

Nami’s face immediately falls into a frown. She opens her mouth to say something, but gets interrupted by a voice from the kitchen before she can make a sound.

‘’What you gonna do?’’ Zoro’s leaning against the wall, half-eaten apple in hand. He takes a bite, staring down at Sanji as if to dare him to answer.

Sanji feels his heartbeat quicken. ‘’What’s it to you?’’

‘’Just wondering.’’ Zoro shrugs his shoulders, eyes never leaving Sanji’s.

Sanji clicks his tongue. ‘’Not that it’s any of your business, M arimo ,’’ he bites. ‘’I’ve had class all day, and need to cook for your sorry ass because you can’t even turn on a toaster. Plus, I have a presentation in a couple of days, so I need to work on that.’’ The moment the words leave his mouth, he knows he’s made a mistake. He really wants to lie in bed, smoke half a pack of cigarettes, and watch Youtube videos until he falls asleep- but now? Dinner falls on him. Again.

‘’Ehh.’’ Just the sight of Zoro’s smirk is enough to get Sanji’s blood boiling, but of course the idiot has to talk too. ‘’Playing kitchen princess tonight? What are you gonna make for me?’’

‘’For you, absolutely nothing,’’ Sanji bites. ‘’You act like I’m not the sole reason you’ve had food on the table for the past year.’’

‘’Actually.’’ Zoro takes a pause to bite into his apple. ‘’You’ve been living here for 14 months. And who earns more money? Is it you or me, princess ?’’

‘’The only reason you earn so much is that you’re too dumb to study and actually have enough time on your hands to work.’’ Sanji can’t help but roll his eyes. Zoro really knows how to get under his skin. ‘’Anyway, I have to take care of Nami tonight, so I need to get started on cooking. You can let me do my job, or I’ll make you a chocolate cake for dinner. And believe me, it’ll be extra, extra sweet, just for you.’’

Zoro looks him up and down, but doesn’t go against him. ‘’Fine,’’ he mutters, throwing the remains of the apple core towards Sanji. ‘’Throw this away for me, will you?’’

Automatically, Sanji catches it, before realising what he has just caught. ‘’You disgusting, mannerless brute!’’ He screams, ‘’are you genuinely deranged? What if it had hit our dear Nami-san?’’

It doesn’t matter. Zoro has turned around already and left to do whatever it is he does all day. When Sanji turns around, he finds Nami sitting on the couch with her book again.

He sighs.

He’s more to them than a chore boy. They love him, he knows that. Nami doesn’t love him simply because he’d do anything for her, and the others don’t simply love him because he cooks for them without complaint.

He knows it’s not true, but sometimes, he can’t quieten his thoughts.

After fully accepting that Nami isn’t going to pay him any further attention, he throws the apple core away and checks the kitchen cabinets for ingredients.

To the best of his abilities, Sanji quickly throws together a simple fried rice for the house. He forces himself to take a small bowl with him upstairs, finally ready to take a well-deserved rest. The fried rice is perfect, crispy and tasty and filling, yet it tastes like sand in his mouth.

He doesn’t want to eat. Maybe, if he didn’t, he’d feel better. That’s quite possible, right? What if all the feelings of the past week have simply come from a poor diet, or from consuming too much food?

(He’s not even fooling himself, but the small bowl of rice is enough to trick himself into believing he’s fine. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have grabbed himself dinner, right?)

The people in the house can heat up their own dinner whenever they want. According to his calculations, Sanji has another hour before he even needs to get dressed to drive Nami to her destination, and he’s planning on making the absolute best of it.

In the end, he scrolls through any social media he can get his hands on for the whole hour. He’d love to sleep, but with having to drop Nami off so quickly, he can’t. The exhaustion of the day is starting to fully get to him. It feels like there’s a foggy cloud in his brain, dampening all his thoughts and making it hard to focus on anything. Social media isn’t helping. Seeing his friends, acquaintances and strangers being nothing but perfect makes it absolutely impossible not to compare himself to them.

He knows it makes no sense. Of course, they’re not going to post the downsides of their lives, but he really, really can’t help it. Zoro’s pictures in the gym make his heart clench - he’s beautiful, his body is so perfect, meanwhile Sanji’s just… Sanji. He’s not special, or handsome, or even skinny enough. He doesn’t even have half of the muscles the Marimo has on him.

Luffy is out every day with new friends, while Sanji has been feeling stuck in his room. He loves his friends, he really does, but he’s not entirely sure that they love him. But to be loved the way Luffy is being loved seems like a dream. He makes friends everywhere he goes, and never seems to second-guess anything, while Sanji seems to second-guess everything. It’s become hard to even go to the grocery store. Every outfit he puts on, every smile, every conversation he has, it feels forced and fake.

Tears prick in Sanji’s for no apparent reason. He’s so tired, but he promised Nami his services, and he’d never let her down.

The drive to the cinema is short. Sanji’s not entirely sure if it’s safe for him to drive in this state, not with the way his mind is fogged and his heart is beating in his chest, but Nami doesn’t seem to notice. She rambles on about things Sanji couldn’t care less about. He chain-smokes out of the window, occasionally humming to at least seem interested in whatever Nami has to say.

At their destination, Nami bats her eyes once more and pushes her top subtly lower while asking if Sanji could please pick her up again after the film ?

It takes a couple of seconds for the question to penetrate the fog in his mind. Sanji doesn’t want to. He’s never wanted to do anything less than this. The pit of anxiety in his stomach enlarges, until he feels like his lungs are caving in. He knows it goes against all his principles, but he really can’t be there for her tonight.

‘’I’m sorry, Nami-san,’’ Sanji says, not meeting her eyes. Mindlessly, he’s already turning the steering wheel without truly caring about her response. ‘’I can’t. Maybe Franky can pick you up, or something.’’

Nami stays quiet for a moment, before taking a step back and throwing the door closed. She smiles and waves him off, but Sanji can’t help but feel like he let her down. Like he’s a bad friend. Like she deserves better than him. Like they deserve better than him.

He misses the way Nami immediately takes her phone out to call someone. Instead, tears fall from his eyes, and he’s barely able to see the road in front of him until he returns home.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

He’s just going to check up on him. It’s not that he’s worried, per se, it’s more that Nami’s worried.

Not that Zoro really cares what she thinks. How weird could Sanji truly actually be acting? Of course, he noticed small things, but that’s understandable- he’s an idiot who takes everything to heart. Someone looking at him the wrong way could probably give him a mental breakdown. But Zoro’s sure that if something was actually wrong, like fundamentally, problematically wrong, Sanji would come to one of his friends.

They’ve known him for years . And sure, they don’t always see eye to eye, but Sanji must trust them enough at this point to come to them. After such a long friendship, he has to.

Still, knocking on his bedroom door makes Zoro feel nervous. Sanji’s always protective of his space. Even though Zoro knows the room well.

When Sanji just moved in, he had a hard time sleeping. It’s not that he complained about it, but it was obvious. He’d wander through the kitchen all night, often falling asleep on the couch instead of his own bed. The house was very different from the apartment he shared with Zeff before. Once, late at night, he had told Zoro something neither of them would ever bring up again: the last time he’d slept alone in a room was at his father’s house. Zoro never pushed for details, and he’s quite certain no one else even knows about it, but suddenly, Zoro would spend his evenings in Sanji’s room. Usually they’d do their own thing: Sanji would do homework or lay in bed on his phone until he started to drift off to sleep. Zoro would find ways to entertain himself, watching shows or reading Sanji’s manga until he had drifted off, only to quietly move to his own room to sleep. The memories are dear to Zoro, even if it feels off to remember a bad time so fondly. It felt good to be so close to Sanji, even if his vulnerability was only for a short while.

The actual anxiety creeps in on Zoro once the knock doesn’t get a response.

Just the slightest bit worried, Zoro knocks again, much harder this time. A small groan can be heard from the other side of the door. Without waiting for a response, Zoro pushes open the door.

Sanji’s bedroom is… not as he expected.

There’s laundry laying around on the floor. His precious manga collection is scattered around the room, the display shelf basically empty. There’s dirty dishes on his nightstand and his desk. A full ashtray of empty cigarette stumps lay next to his bed, but there’s half-smoked cigarette butts on almost all dishes, too. It’s more cluttered than Zoro’s ever seen.

‘’Hey,’’ he says, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Sanji’s bed head pokes out from under his duvet. His eyes are small, obviously thick with sleep. ‘’Huh?’’ he asks, sounding very confused and sleepy.

‘’Just wanted to check up on you.’’ Zoro doesn’t meet his eyes, unable to tear his eyes apart from the unfamiliar chaos in Sanji’s space.

‘’Huh?’’ Sanji asks again, not waiting for a response. His head hits the pillow again, making it hard for Zoro to look at him.

‘’Nothing,’’ Zoro mutters. Maybe Nami was right to be worried, it’s unusual for Sanji to be in bed at this time, but he’s not sure how to bring it up. His thoughts go back to right before he went into the room. Sanji’s an adult, he’s able to take care of himself. If he needs help, he’ll ask for it.

‘’Sleepy,’’ Sanji croaks softly. He turns around, his back now turned to Zoro. ‘’S cold.’’

‘’Do you want… Some tea? Or anything else?’’ Zoro hears the hesitation in his own voice. He’s thankful Sanji doesn’t respond, obviously having drifted off to sleep again, because he’s not sure what to make of this.

Quietly, he closes the door. Maybe Sanji’s just tired. Maybe he needs a good night’s sleep. Maybe tomorrow he’ll do a major cleaning, and it’ll be the first step in the right direction.

Zoro decides to keep a closer eye on Sanji until that happens.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sanji’s annoyed. The music is way too loud and absolutely awful, the room is too hot and there’s so many people, he’s quite certain it’s a safety hazard, the alcohol is overpriced and bad ( what do you mean the only white wine you have is Ogio??). He hadn’t even really wanted to come in the first place, but his university friends demanded he’d come tonight and, honestly? He really did need a break, so he accepted. He’s not entirely sure of what it is he needs a break, but a night out drinking is supposed to take your mind off of other things, right?

Wrong, apparently. It took about 5 minutes for most of his friends to wander off somewhere without him, leaving him pathetic and alone at the bar with his very overpriced (and disgusting) beer. No way in hell is he going to drink Ogio, but neither the red nor white wine seemed acceptable to drink, so he has to make do.

About half an hour ago, just when he expected the night couldn’t possibly get any worse, his eyes fell on a certain green-haired marimo on the other side of the room.

At least he was decent enough to come over and ask why Sanji was sitting on his own. Even though he hadn’t said anything, the pity radiated off Zoro like heat. Maybe that’s why Sanji couldn’t possibly tell the truth, opting to lie and say ‘ ’my friends are actually outside, they should be back any minute. You can go back to whoever you came with, idiot, I don’t need your company.’’

His friends did, in fact, not come back. Kid has been trying to flirt (and very obviously failing) with a girl way out of his league somewhere in a corner, and Kaku has walked past the bar a couple of times- but besides them? Sanji has no idea where the others are.

He could leave right now. There’s no reason for him to stay, but the idea of returning home within an hour and a half after leaving their house to go clubbing is going to throw Usopp and Nami into a laughing fit so hard, he’d rather get drunk and sit in self-pity for one evening.

The only problem is Zoro. He hasn’t bothered him any further, but if he’s paying attention, he might never live this night down. Zoro should be able to see him. Surely he’s paying attention to him, right? At least a bit?

Sanji moves his head slightly to the right. If he moves just right, he can catch a glimpse of the booth where Zoro and his friends are sitting and- Zoro’s back is to him.

Annoyed, Sanji clicks his tongue. Really, the marimo isn’t even the least bit worried about him? Whatever. He flags down the bartender to order two more beers, one for himself and one for his misery, as he checks his phone for at least the 6th time in the last 10 minutes.

‘’Excuse me?’’ The small voice behind him is barely audible above the horrible 2000s music mix currently playing. ‘’You’re Sanji, right?’’

Shocked, the blond turns around. Behind him is one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen: her long, pink dress makes her figure look incredible, and her half-up-half-down blue hair is a stark contrast from everyone else in the room. She’s beautiful, Sanji can’t help but feel his pulse rise slightly. She’s exactly his type.

‘’Y-yes, I’m Sanji,’’ he cringes at the stutter, but keeps going. ‘’You look absolutely lovely, can I help you with anything?’’ Proud of making his voice steady again, he flashes his best smile at the lady in front of him

‘’I actually came over to talk to you,’’ she smiles sweetly, swiftly taking the empty bar stool next to him. ‘’Aren’t you going to ask my name, Sanji?’’ she smiles teasingly.

‘’Of- ofcourse.’’ He clenches his eyes out of embarrassment, before realising the situation and putting on a smile again. ‘’May I ask your name, and your order, my love?’’

‘’It’s Vivi,’’ she responds, lightly swinging her legs. She’s so cute, she’s too short to reach the ground . ‘’And I’d like a Moscow Mule, please.’’

Sanji raises his eyebrows at that. ‘’Alright, give me a moment,’’ he says while trying to raise the attention of the bar man, who’s trying very hard to get the attention of a very clearly uninterested girl on the other side of the bar.

‘’What?’’ Vivi asks. ‘’Something wrong?’’

‘’Of course not. I just didn’t take you for the vodka type, but whatever my lady desires, she gets,’’ Sanji responds smoothly, finally gaining the attention of the barkeeper.

‘’I don’t like vodka,’’ Vivi laughs. ‘’I like ginger beer and lime, and tolerate the vodka.’’

After Sanji orders for her, he returns his attention to the goddess next to him. ‘’See, I can read you like a book, already.’’

The night turns out not to be so bad after all. Vivi is lovely, she’s sweet and easily reciprocates Sanji’s flirtations- but something feels off.

It’s not like Sanji never takes women home. Quite the opposite, he’s had his fair share of temporary relationships and one-night stands, even while living together in a house with his 8 friends he’s gotten lucky. There’s nothing wrong with Vivi, either. She’s exactly what Sanji looks for in a girl: beautiful, smart, funny. Even if all she’d give him is a wink, he’d take that any day of the week, but tonight is different.

He stumbles over his words, embarrassing himself after realising he lost concentration while she was talking. He drinks more than he’d like to cover up his embarrassment, which leads to more embarrassment. The loud noises and stuffiness of the room feel overwhelming, so much so that he doesn’t even really want to listen to her anymore. Honestly, all Sanji really wants right now is a smoke and his bed.

For a moment, he debates inviting Vivi to come outside with him so he can at least satiate one of his urges and hopefully refind some motivation to talk to her, but he decides against it. He doesn’t want to let her on when he’s clearly not in the mood for whatever she’s offering, whether it’s friendship, flirting or something else entirely - neither his head nor heart is in it, and he couldn’t knowingly take advantage of such a beautiful woman. Plus, he’s certain she’s noticed his standoffishness. All he can hope for is that she doesn’t think he’s not interested in her.

He kindly takes his leave with a sad excuse of feeling under the weather in hopes of rekindling his poor first impression later on. Luckily, Vivi really seems too sweet for her own good, because she asks for his phone number before he can even stand up. He gives her a kiss on the cheek as goodbye, and based on the slight blush on her face, she doesn’t mind.

The walk outside is heinous. There’s too many people, and the night has formed a fogginess in Sanji’s mind that he can’t seem to break out of. Every time anyone touches him, he feels an electric shock go through his body. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor, ignoring everything around him to try and get outside as fast as possible. The quicker he has a cigarette between his teeth, the better.

With his hand finally on the doorknob of the front door, someone tightly grabs his shoulders. Sanji’s so frustrated at almost being out of this horrible situation, but being pulled back at the last moment, he groans loudly.

‘’Cook?’’ Zoro asks behind him.

‘’Ugh,’’ Sanji scoffs, not bothering to turn around. ‘’If you want to talk to me, come outside. I’m not staying here a second longer.’’ He yells loudly over the music and people, quickly pushing open the door and disappearing outside.

He almost expected Zoro not to follow him at all, but as soon as the door falls closed, it opens again, with the bewildered, green-haired man walking outside. Before either of them can say anything, Sanji frantically searches his pockets for his cigarettes, until Zoro holds his pack in front of his face.

‘’I saw you left it at the bar,’’ Zoro says.

‘’Oh…’’ Sanji takes the package, thankful for not having lost it. ‘’Thanks. I didn’t know you could see me.’’

Zoro fidgets with his hands. ‘’Of course, I saw some of your friends around. They ditched you?’’

‘’Nah.’’ Sanji takes a deep drag of the cigarette, happy at finally having some nicotine in his lungs after multiple hours. ‘’We went out together. Just, everyone found something to do, you know?’’

‘’Hmmm.’’ Zoro obviously doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t press further, and that’s enough for Sanji. ‘’Saw you sitting with Vivi.’’

Surprised, Sanji looks at Zoro. ‘’You know her?’’

Zoro nods. ‘’She’s really nice. And sweet. She was sitting with us, actually.’’ He takes a sharp inhale before he finishes, ‘’She saw you sitting there, so I told her a bit about you… That’s why she came over.’’

‘’Oh,’’ Sanji says, not sure how to feel about having Zoro as a wingman, basically. ‘’Yea, she’s beautiful. Really funny too, way wittier than you.’’

Zoro leans his back against the wall of the building, looking everywhere but at Sanji. If his fidgeting indicates he’s nervous, Sanji’s not going to feel bad. He doesn’t necessarily want to have a conversation with the Marimo about his love life, either. There’s nothing stopping him from just shutting up.

‘’But she’s not your type?’’

‘’Of course she’s my type!’’ Sanji remarks, possibly a bit too loud after the amount of alcohol he’s consumed. It probably hasn’t helped that he barely managed to eat anything today, his appetite has been reduced since certain insecurities have come up again. ‘’She’s adorable, sweet, hot, funny, smart, she might be an actual ange-’’

‘’Whatever, why didn’t you take her home then?’’ Zoro asks. ‘’She was basically lying at your feet, all you had to do was ask.’’

Sanji rolls his eyes. ‘’I’m not going to take a woman home on the first date, not that this was even a date, you idiot.’’

‘’Wouldn’t be the first time,’’ Zoro mutters.

Sanji has half a mind to slap Zoro across the face, but ultimately decides it’s not worth it to risk hurting his hands for such an idiot like him.

‘’Whatever, it’s not your problem. I just wasn’t feeling it tonight.’’ Sanji responds, attention focused on the cigarette instead of the mossball. He’s annoyed at himself for not feeling up to talking to her, he’s never not wanted to talk to a beautiful woman, and he’s annoyed at Zoro for helping him.

‘’It is, actually. I sent her over to you because I thought you’d like her. Do you want me to…’’ Zoro sighs, unsure of how to phrase his question. ‘’Not send a woman over if they’re interested in you?’’

‘’What do you even mean?’’ Sanji asks. Having to talk about all of this with Zoro out of all people is making him so frustrated, he has to restrain himself from biting his cigarette in two. ‘’If someone’s interested in me, they can talk to me. I just wasn’t feeling it, that’s all.’’

‘’Yea, just, I’ve never seen you not into flirting with anyone?’’ It sounds more like a question than a statement. ‘’I mean, would you have been into it if it was a man? Because-’’

Sanji feels his cheeks flush immediately. ‘’That’s not the problem!’’

Zoro rolls his eyes, his voice immediately sounding more irritated. ‘’Are you seriously still awkward about this? I do not care if you like dick, and neither does anyone else.’’

Sanji sputters something incoherent, throwing his finished cigarette on the ground and pushing it out with the heel of his shoes. ‘’I’m not awkward about it!’’

‘’You look like a tomato.’’

‘’And you look stupid.’’

‘’That is a pathetic comeback, cook.’’

‘’I don’t care!’’ Sanji screams, but immediately realises he’s being very unreasonable here. Zoro’s trying to be nice, a rare occurrence, and he shouldn’t punish him for his own insecurities. ‘’It’s- no. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was a man. I’m just really tired today, so...’’ He quickly checks his phone, deciding that after 2 and a half hours, if he walks really slowly, he can return home, hopefully without being made fun of. ‘’I just want to go home.’’

Zoro nods, still not seemingly satisfied. ‘’So you are interested in Vivi? Because knowing her, she’s going to come over to me any minute to ask me.’’

Sanji’s quiet for a moment, twitching his feet uncomfortably. ‘’I am. I have her number, I’ll call her.’’

‘’ ‘Kay,’’ Zoro responds, pushing himself off the wall. ‘’I’ll go back then. Let me know when you’ve arrived home, okay?’’

Sanji nods, not meeting his eyes.

Zoro stills, something obviously holding him back.

‘’Look, do you want me to walk you home?’’

‘’No!’’ Sanji scoffs. ‘’I’m not a child!’’

‘’I know,’’ Zoro’s voice is soft. He takes a step closer, but changes his mind, and backs off again. ‘’I’m not saying that. I’m just saying, you’re drunk, and…’’ He scratches the back of his head. ‘’Don’t take this the wrong way, but lately you seem a little… off?’’

‘’I’m NOT off!!’’ Sanji explodes, angry at the implication. How dare Zoro say something like that? It’s based on absolutely nothing. ‘’I’m fine, you just can’t ever mind your own fucking business!’’

Somewhere, deep down, Sanji knows Zoro’s probably the friend that minds his own business the most.

Zoro sighs. ‘’I told you not to take it the wrong way.’’

‘’I don’t care what you tell me, I don’t care about you! Just leave me alone for once!’’ He feels his heartbeat in his chest, arms, neck, everywhere. His throat clams up in a familiar way he hasn’t felt in almost 2 years, and suddenly the world is spinning spinning spinning .

‘’Cook-’’ Zoro starts, but Sanji cuts him off.

‘’Leave me alone,’’ he mutters quietly, not able to make his voice loud. He turns around, unsteady on his feet. He takes one step forward, but quickly has to hold himself up by planting one hand on the wall. There are too many emotions inside of him trying to overpower each other, and the dizziness makes it hard to breathe. The feeling of not getting enough air in his lungs hurts, and it doesn’t help that his thoughts are foggy and he’s lightheaded.

‘’I’m not letting you go home on your own when you’re this upset,’’ Zoro says behind him, but Sanji doesn’t hear. He needs all his attention to stay upright and keep whatever is trying to overflow in his head at bay. ‘’How much did you even drink?’’

Sanji doesn’t respond. His eyes are closed, but he still feels the ground move beneath his feet. Bile is rising in his throat, and he’s certain he’s going to throw up. There are things moving in front of his eyes and suddenly, his knees hit the ground with such force it knocks the air out of him.

‘’Stop rejecting it,’’ Zoro says softly. Arms are pulling everywhere: on his shirt, hair, shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact makes Sanji feel like he’s burning.

He feels his back hit the wall. His knees hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of tears burning in his eyes.

He whimpers softly, putting his head in his hands. This is not how he envisioned the night going.

‘’Just breathe, you’re going to be fine,’’ Zoro says. His voice sounds far away, but Sanji registers the body heat he radiates from one side of his body. It’s overwhelming, he tries to shuffle away from it, but Zoro refuses, pulling him back by putting his arm around his shoulder. ‘’Just stay here.’’

Sanji doesn’t respond. He lets himself ride the waves of anxiety that pass through him, embarrassed every time his body shivers involuntarily. Zoro’s kind enough not to say anything about it. Occasionally, he shushes Sanji when his whimpers get too loud. ‘’It’s okay, just let it happen.’’

The hand moving through his hair helps steady him somewhat, but it still takes an embarrassingly long time for Sanji’s breathing to go back to normal.

After a while, Zoro nudges him softly. ‘’You still with me?’’

Unsure of how to respond, Sanji hides his face in Zoro's arm. He’s definitely not thinking straight, but at least Zoro doesn’t comment on it.

‘’It’s getting cold, let’s get you home,’’ Zoro says after a while, taking his arm back and slowly standing up. Sanji whines at the loss of warmth. He hadn’t realised how much he missed physical contact.

‘’Come on, cook,’’ Zoro tries again, offering his hand to help Sanji stand up. He stares at the outstretched hand in front of him for a moment before accepting.

Standing upright feels strange. His centre of gravity is off, and suddenly the exhaustion, lack of food and alcohol has gotten to his head. ‘’Y-you can’t...’’ His voice wavers. He cringes at the sound, it doesn’t even sound like him. ‘’You can’t tell anyone.’’

Zoro stares so intensely in his eyes, Sanji has to look away. He shakingly tries to take the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, but drops it before he can take one out.

Zoro picks them up without a word. He takes one out, offering it to Sanji. Sanji barely reacts, just lets Zoro place one on his lips. Zoro waits a second to see his reaction, but when Sanji still doesn’t move, he carefully takes the lighter out of Sanji’s pocket to help him light it.

Sanji inhales shakily, one arm heavily leaning on the green-haired man while holding the cigarette with the other. They don’t talk. Zoro quietly directs them on their way home. Once they’re almost there, Sanji starts talking again. ‘’This didn’t happen.’’

‘’It did, and we’re going to talk about it,’’ Zoro says, not caring about what Sanji has to say. ‘’You’re not doing well, and we’re going to fix it.’’

Sanji sighs. He’s still leaning on Zoro, he desperately needs Zoro’s steadiness as his feet occasionally trip over one another. ‘’I’m doing just fine,’’ he responds, barely audible.

‘’This is fine?’’ Zoro asks sarcastically. ‘’I know you’re an idiot, but I didn’t know you were this big of an idiot.’’

‘’You don’t know anything.’’

‘’I know that this,’’ Zoro uses his free hand to wave in the general direction of the blond, ‘’is not normal.’’

Sanji scoffs. ‘’I’ve had panic attacks since I was twelve, and you should know that. You’re supposed to know that, as my friend.’’ If he was thinking a bit more clearly, Sanji might’ve been embarrassed at the blatant rudeness, but he has no other choice. He needs to get Zoro off his back. Zoro doesn’t understand. None of their friends understand.

He feels helpless, has felt helpless for months . No one cared when he started to lock himself in his own bedroom. No one cared when he started to withdraw himself, or started to smile less, or started to skip meals. So why should he care about Zoro’s feelings? He obviously doesn’t care about him anymore.

Suddenly, Sanji feels immature. How had he not realised this before? It’s not Zoro’s fault, Sanji’s the fool for getting hung up on a friendship that is falling apart at the seams. They don’t like him anymore. The signs have been everywhere, and Sanji has been ignoring them on a childish whim. The fairy tale in his head of ‘having best friends.’ The only reason Zoro suddenly seems to care is because he’s become a problem.

The realisation makes Sanji’s heart sink. Is that what he turned into? A problem? Before all of this, at least he’d been useful - cooking and cleaning and doing favours for his friends whenever possible, but lately he’s been nothing but a disappointment. He messed up Zoro’s night out, he’s been messing up dinners and house dynamics and… Maybe that’s why Zoro now worries about him, or acts to, at least. Because this ‘problem’ he’s having is affecting them.

Sanji’s a liability. Useless. Useless. Useless. Stupid. Worthless. They don’t care about your pain. They care about the issues you cause them.

‘’Of course I know that, idiot. I also know you haven’t had them in years, so don’t act all high and mighty with me, now,’’ Zoro says, annoyed. His patience is running thin. He’s been giving Sanji space and time, expecting him to, at some point, finally come to him. ‘’I do know you, you know I know you, so shut the fuck up and tell me about what’s been going on with you.’’

Instead, Sanji physically pushes him away. ‘’Get the fuck away from me,’’ he growls. He’s still standing, but his legs tremble dangerously. The look in his eyes is so full of anger, Zoro’s not sure if he should touch him right now.

Sanji doesn’t care about his hesitance. ‘’You don’t care! You never care about me! You only care about the shit I always do for you because I want you to fucking like me for who I am!’’

‘’Haaah?’’

Sanji’s head drops, but he immediately looks up again. His eyes don’t leave Zoro’s as he talks. ‘’I fucking hate you, you know that?’’

‘’What are you yapping about now?’’ Zoro tries to get his voice under control, but it’s so hard with the way the cook’s behaving right now. How hard does he have to try until that dumb idiot finally accepts help?

Zoro takes a step closer to Sanji. He stretches his arm out, intending to steady Sanji, who’s swaying dangerously on his legs. Instead, Sanji slaps him across the face, hard.

Zoro stares in disbelief for a couple of seconds. He brings his hand to his face, feeling the tender spot that is definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. ‘’What is your fucking problem?’’ He screams angrily.

‘’You are!’’ Sanji screams back. ‘’How often do I have to repeat that I want nothing to do with you? I hate you!’’ He takes a deep breath, only to continue his verbal abuse. ‘’I don’t care about you, I don’t want to talk to you, I wish I had never even met you!’’

Zoro doesn’t know how to respond. His face hurts, but it’s nothing compared to the way he physically feels his heart break.

‘’Leave me alone,’’ Sanji mutters angrily. He sways on his feet, but stubbornly walks towards their house.

Zoro lets him. He quietly watches him reach their house, clumsily mess with the key until the door opens, and doesn't move until the front door slams shut again.

Neither sees each other's tears fall.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sanji doesn’t leave his bedroom the next day. Zoro and Robin have knocked on his door to ask him to come out, but he’s ignored both of them. He knows where he stands in their minds now, and he’s not ready to face them. Not when he knows how they see him: as something to use, probably not even a person.

He smokes a lot, grateful for the window next to his bed. The nicotine keeps him agitated and unable to fall asleep. His head hurts, and the hunger pangs from not having eaten are hard to ignore, but it feels good. Like he’s accomplishing something. Like he’s punishing himself for believing he’s worth something.

It’s not until midday the next day that he decides to enter the living room again. The house has been exceptionally quiet, and he quickly realises his housemates are out. Zoro had been at his bedroom door once more last night, talking about whatever - Sanji hadn’t really listened. Nami had been there this morning, too, asking if he’d like any breakfast. She hadn’t received a response, but outside his door he found a tray with coffee and toast. Both are untouched.

He’s not even sure why he decided to leave his room. A change of scenery and a quick cup of tea while the house is empty and he won’t see anyone sounded like a good idea, but now standing in the midst of the familiar kitchen with over a year’s worth of precious, warm memories, it hurts.

‘’Sanji!’’ Luffy’s bright voice suddenly comes from the living room.

Startled, Sanji drops the kettle full of water he’d been carrying back to the stove. ‘’Fuck,’’ he curses. At least the water wasn’t hot yet.

‘’Where did you go yesterday?’’ Luffy asks, taking a seat at the kitchen table. His smile is bright and warm. Sanji feels his heart clench.

‘’What?’’ Sanji asks, slightly confused. He’s trying desperately to dry the ground as quickly as possible so he can disappear in his chamber again.

‘’Where’d you go?’’ Luffy asks again. ‘’I didn’t see you all day!’’

Sanji quits his cleaning for a second. Of course, they haven’t told him. Luffy would’ve probably tried to climb in through the window if he knew Sanji’d been in his room all day.

But that means Luffy cares, right?

Sanji feels tears prick at the corner of his eye. He’s so confused.

‘’Just… Out,’’ he mutters, more to himself than to Luffy.

Luffy laughs loudly, the sound echoing through the whole house. ‘’I hope it was fun.’’

Sanji nods his head. Suddenly, his appetite for tea has vanished. ‘’I’ll just go back to-’’

‘’Can you make me breakfast, please?’’ Luffy asks, trying to put on his best puppy eyes. ‘’I haven’t had your pancakes in so long!’’

Even though Sanji feels horrible, the idea of doing something that’ll make one of his best friends feel good is tempting. No matter how bad he feels, the feeling of doing something good, something kind, usually makes him feel good. He yearns to feel the happiness and satisfaction it gives him. His thighs hurt from squatting on the ground, and suddenly, he realises how hungry he actually is. Slowly, he gets up, looking at Luffy for the determining factor.

Luffy’s big eyes stare up at him, awaiting an answer.

‘’Okay,’’ Sanji whispers before he can truly think about it.

‘’Yay!’’ Luffy screams happily, comically throwing his fists into the air. Sanji can’t tear his eyes away from the way his eyes crinkle closed when he smiles like that.

‘’Pancakes and bacon?’’ Sanji asks softly, already turning around to grab the non-stick skillet he usually uses. He hears Luffy’s excited cheers faintly in the background.

Everything happens on autopilot. Sanji doesn’t think as he makes the batter or pre-cooks the bacon in a second pan. He doesn’t listen to Luffy’s talking, which never seems to stop for even a moment. He barely notices Luffy’s presence. It wouldn’t matter whether he'd been sitting at the kitchen table, peering over his shoulder or wasn’t in the house at all: Sanji’s completely enhanced at cooking.

For the first time in a long time, his thoughts are quiet. They’re not good or bad, they’re not even there . There’s only him and the food being prepared, and the faint, excited feeling of excitement he knows he’ll get from seeing someone enjoy his food. He feels entirely disconnected from reality, doing everything out of habit without a single thought.

The only problem is, with Sanji working on autopilot, he can’t think about certain dangers that he usually looks out for. Every person in the house has specific behaviours that he’s aware of when he’s cooking: Zoro likes to complain about whatever he’s making looking bad and smelling worse, Usopp likes to sneak little tastes when Sanji isn’t looking, and Luffy? Luffy’s too curious for his own good.

Any food he puts down, whether edible or inedible, gets tasted. Every dubiously looking spoon gets licked. And every kitchen appliance gets examined as if it’s the first time in his life he’s seen a saucepan.

Usually, Sanji keeps an eye on Luffy to make sure he’s staying at least two feet away from the counter. Today, Sanji’s mind is too chaotic and disconnected.

The skillet he uses for the pancakes is hot . The handle gets as hot as the surface. It’s second nature for Sanji to use oven mitts when handling this specific pan, and it’s his responsibility to take care of his foolish, oblivious friend.

He isn’t listening to Luffy’s never-ending chattering. Hell, he doesn’t even know where he is. Sanji’s back is not even turned a full five seconds from the stove, absentmindedly looking for the butter in the fridge, before he hears a loud scream.

Luffy shrieks loudly, and the sound of clattering follows soon after. Immediately, Sanji turns around, only to find Luffy clutching his hand to his chest and the pan with a half-cooked pancake lying on the ground. Hot tears pour down Luffy’s face as he swings his hand around, desperate for any kind of feeling of relief.

Stunned, Sanji realises this is the first time he’s ever seen Luffy cry.

It takes him a second to unfreeze his body and get into action. ‘’C’mere,’’ Sanji quickly says, taking Luffy’s unburned hand and pulling him towards the tap. He pushes Luffy’s now red-hot hand under the ice-cold water, while taking deep breaths to try and steady himself.

‘’It’s okay, you’re okay,’’ Sanji tries to reassure both him and Luffy. Luffy’s tears haven’t dried yet, and Sanji swears he physically feels every single one of his sobs in his body. He feels a tear leave his own eye at the realisation that this is his fault.

I did this. His safety is my responsibility. I fucked up.

‘’It hurts,’’ Luffy whimpers. Sanji nods.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

‘’I’ll get you some ice, wait here,’’ Sanji says, leaving Luffy to sit on the counter with his hand under the running water. In record time, Sanji has wrapped up some ice in a clean kitchen towel.

Without many words, Luffy is too shocked and Sanji too disassociated, Sanji manages to get Luffy seated on the couch with the cold compress on his hand. He’d quickly inspected it and luckily, it doesn’t seem that bad. It hurts, but the shock must have been as bad for Luffy as the actual wound will be.

‘’Sanji?’’ Luffy asks softly. They’d been sitting together in silence for a couple of moments. Luffy fidgeting with the towel, his tears dried, but his eyes still red, and Sanji wallowing in self-guilt. ‘’Still hungry.’’

Sanji nods, unable to form words. He offers Luffy the TV remote in hopes of distracting him. Happily, he takes it, immediately turning on the TV and getting immersed in whatever he puts on.

The blond leaves to the kitchen. The mess is still lying around, but he has no energy to worry about that. He quickly whips up something easy, toast and tea after remembering Nami’s tray is still lying near his bedroom door, as the front door opens. Robin enters the kitchen, her eyes widen as she takes in the situation. Sanji’s not sure what she’s more shocked about: seeing him, or the chaos.

‘’Give this to Luffy,’’ he whispers, pushing the just-finished breakfast in her arms. ‘’Need to go.’’

Robin stays still for a moment. Sanji pushes past her, ignoring the fact he’s still in his sweatpants and oversized hoodie he’d slept in as he puts on his shoes.

‘’Cook…’’ Robin starts, but Sanji ignores her, fastening his shoelaces as quickly as possible.

He puts on his jacket, wilfully ignoring the way she’s trying to grab his attention. ‘’Luffy’s on the couch,’’ he says, slamming the front door behind him before she can get another word in.

Sanji doesn’t return until the sun has set and the streetlamps have long turned on. He wouldn’t even really be able to recall what he’d done. He walked around, smoking his package of cigarettes until the last one was gone, immediately going to the nearest shop to buy more and continuing. His throat hurts from the load of tobacco and carbon monoxide he’s been forcing down his throat. The hunger pangs are so bad, he occasionally has to stop and stand still for a moment. Light-headed, he sat down for an unknown amount of time in some park he’d never seen before.

At some point, he decides that okay, maybe I do need to go home . The nearest subway station finally allowed him to figure out which way he had been walking and in any other situation, he’d be shocked at how far he’s come. Instead, he feels nothing. He figures out the fastest way to go home, head still empty and heart feeling cold.

I hurt Luffy. It was my responsibility. I hurt Zoro. If they still liked me before, they sure as hell don’t anymore.

The house is quiet. The light in the entryway is the only light still on, most likely left on solely for Sanji to return home. He quietly closes the door. Before, all he could think about was his bedroom and wanting to sleep, but now the anxiety creeps in once more.

His hands shake as he takes off his jacket. No way that he’s going to be able to sleep like this.

Zoro hasn’t been able to sleep, no matter how hard he’s tried.

He heard from Robin what happened between Luffy and Sanji, and even though Luffy seems unfazed - more concerned about Sanji’s whereabouts than anything else - he knows the blond is probably beating himself up over it. Sanji had already been weighed down by so much, and this was just another burden added to the load.

Zoro couldn’t help but worry about how many more straws Sanji can take before he finally breaks.

Waiting downstairs until the return of the cook was tortuous. Everyone went to bed, mutually deciding that if Sanji needed space, he'd get it. But no one has seen the red flags Zoro’s been picking up on for weeks. Sanji’s been having space, and it only seems to make everything worse.

Annoyed, he tosses and turns in his bed. They’d all tried to call Sanji multiple times, but after hearing his phone ring from his bedroom, they knew it was useless. After contemplating, Zoro decided it’d be no use to walk around town and look for him, just as useless as worrying himself sick on the couch, constantly staring out the window in hopes of catching a glimpse of blond hair and cigarette smoke.

After another 30 minutes of huffing and staring at his ceiling, he decides enough is enough. He can at least get downstairs, check if Sanji really hasn’t returned yet, and get something to drink before wallowing in his worries again.

Zoro’s feet hit the cold ground. He feels a shudder move through his body. Is Sanji seriously still outside in this weather?

Seeing the lights in the entryway still on makes his heart clench, afraid of his initial idea being true. Then the soft sound of clattering in the kitchen can be heard, and his heart jumps.

He practically runs to the kitchen, hoping desperately to find who he’s been looking for. The smell of smoke welcomes him on the stairs, and Zoro’s first feeling is pure relief. It gets quickly washed away by worry once he finally comes face-to-face with the cook.

Sanji’s running around in the kitchen. The heat from the oven is overbearing. Zoro closes the door behind him, hoping that their talking won’t wake up anyone else. This is going to be something between just them. He doesn’t need any stray ears picking up on their conversation

“Hey,” he says softly, immediately followed by the sounds of the door closing. Sanji jumps at the sound, wide eyes staring at the man in front of him.

“Hey,” Sanji responds, immediately going back to tinkering with something sweet-smelling in a saucepan on the stove.

Zoro had expected their next conversation to start with a fight. Screaming, tears, maybe another hit, anything but this. Anything but the quiet, dishevelled man cooking at 4 am.

“What are you making?” Zoro asks, taking short steps towards the counter to peer over Sanji’s shoulder.

Panicked, Sanji turns around. “Stop!” He says a little too loud, turning around and continuing to stir in the pot. “It’s hot, please… Not too close.”

Zoro nods. Words aren’t needed to understand the stress Sanji’s currently feeling. He understands. He takes a seat at the kitchen table, noticing an already finished cake in the middle of the table. A fork is lying next to it, a small bite has already been taken.

Red flag. Sanji never just plunges a fork into his creations to taste.

“It smells good,” Zoro remarks, hoping to start up a conversation. Or just make the stressed man in front of him feel at ease. He’s okay with both.

“It was for you,” Sanji whispers softly. “Coffee cake. As an apology.” He sighs, one hand finds its way in blond hair to tug harshly. “I messed up.”

Zoro doesn’t like the way the man’s anxieties are clearly portraying. “Cooking is second nature for you, of course you didn’t mess it up.’’

Sanji doesn’t respond. Zoro sees the faint lines of scratches on his arm.

‘’I don’t mind if it’s too sweet, I appreciate you making it for me,’’ Zoro tries again.

The blond doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even turn around until the sound of the fork scratching against the underside of the cake pan.

‘’Stop, no no no no,’’ Sanji sputters, eyes wide and shocked. His hair is pushed behind his ears from the tugging earlier, making both his eyes visible.

Zoro feels his stare tug at his heartstrings. His eyes are so beautiful. He’s not sure whether blue or green suits his eyes better. Before Sanji can whine more, he takes a bite.

He understands what Sanji meant by ‘messed up’ immediately. It’s oversalted, but combined with the slight sweetness it balances each other out well. Zoro never liked sweetness, so the dulled taste is less indulgent.

‘’It’s great, I like it. Thank you,’’ Zoro says, mouth still full of the bite.

Sanji shakes his head, looking sadly at the cake. In a swift motion, he turns off the heat and picks up the cake.

‘’Where are you going?’’ Zoro asks, confused.

Sanji’s voice sounds fragile. ‘’Just… Leave it,’’ he sighs, quickly throwing the cake into the bin.

‘’You…’’ Zoro doesn’t know how to word his thoughts. Sanji doesn’t waste food. He never wastes food. He has messed up new recipes before. At worst, he’d eat it himself, but he never throws it away. ‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’I’m so sorry,’’ Sanji’s voice breaks, and even though Zoro can’t see his face, he sees the way his body slumps against the kitchen counter.

In a split second, Zoro’s arms are wrapped around Sanji from behind.

‘’I fucked up,’’ Sanji whispers again, to no one in particular again. ‘’I fucked up. I fucked up. It’s my fault. I fucked it up, didn’t I?’’ The hand finds its way back into his hair, and he tugs harshly.

‘’Stop that,’’ Zoro says, his voice almost breaking. He puts his arms tighter around the blond until he feels every sob through his own chest. ‘’Don’t cry, you didn’t do anything wrong.’’

Sanji nods his head. He shakes out of the embrace only to turn around and fully fall into Zoro’s arms. ‘’I hate myself so much, I can’t do this anymore, Zoro, please.’’

Zoro holds him in his arms as he breaks. He’d been expecting this weeks ago, but it didn’t prepare him at all. Seeing his friend hurt hurts so much.

‘’I got you, it’s okay,’’ he whispers into Sanji’s ear.

They don’t move. Zoro quietly sways them, hoping it soothes whatever’s going on inside Sanji’s head right now. He cries until all of his tears are dried up.

‘’Curly, look at me.’’ Zoro tries to back off from the embrace, but Sanji whines disgruntled and stays close, his head on the other’s chest. ‘’Talk to me, then.’’

He slowly moves them towards the table, sitting down with Sanji draped on top of his legs. The blond fully leans into him. It’s the first time they’re this close. Zoro feels himself go dizzy from the overwhelming sense of Sanji.

‘’Tell me what’s been going on.’’

Sanji stutters through an incomprehensible explanation. It consists mainly of things he’s done wrong. ‘’I s-should’ve-’’ Sanji stutters. ‘’Been better.’’

Zoro listens. It’s overwhelming to hear Sanji talk, and he doesn’t know how to process it. Every single thing Sanji tells him hurts, but at the same time, his feelings are dulled. How can Sanji think of himself like this?

‘’Cook,’’ Zoro interrupts him, in the middle of a rant about how he’s sorry he hasn’t been able to do more for them. ‘’Sanji, please, listen.’’

The mention of his own name quiets him down.

The arms around Sanji tighten. ‘’Where is this coming from?’’

Sanji shrugs his shoulders. ‘’I just… Everything hurts. And I haven’t been able to do anything like - not like I used to do.’’ The hand on Zoro’s shoulder shakes. ‘’I’m weak.’’

‘’Sanji, you’re not weak. You should’ve told us if something was wrong.’’

‘’I can handle it.’’

Zoro softly pets Sanji’s back, the only part of him his hand can comfortably reach. ‘’You don’t have to handle anything on your own.’’

Sanji doesn’t respond, so Zoro continues. ‘’We don’t love you because you do shit for us, idiot. We love you because you’re you. Because you’re kind. Remember when Usopp got wasted and you drove over an hour to pick him and Luffy up? You didn’t have to do that, no one wanted you to do that, but you did it because you’re kind.’’

Sanji moves his head closer to Zoro’s neck.

‘’I like how competitive you are. You’re always pushing me to do better, to be better, and I thought you liked that about me, too, but maybe I was wrong.’’

Sanji shakes his head. ‘’I- I like it. A bit,’’ he says slowly. ‘’ ‘S fun.’’

Zoro can’t help the soft smile that comes over his face. ‘’I’m happy about that.’’

‘’You’re the only one who matches me like that, you know? No one else would be okay with the dumb bets we make. I can’t believe I went to the gym every day for a whole month for you.’’

Sanji laughs softly. ‘’You refused to believe I could make cupcakes you’d like!’’

‘’I thought all cupcakes are sweet!’’

‘’You’re an idiot.’’

‘’I know that. Now that we’re onto the topic again, could you make them again soon?’’ Zoro asks, hoping it’ll distract the cook. Instead, it seems to have the opposite effect.

‘’Y-yea.’’

Zoro thinks for a moment. He’s never been good at connecting dots, especially when the dots are placed by Sanji, and thus messily all over the place and shouldn’t even have a connection to begin with.

‘’Sanji, you know you don’t have to do anything we ask you to, right? It’s just… You’re always so helpful, you’re the first person anyone would go to if they needed help.’’ Zoro resumes the soft strokes on his back.

‘’I’m not…’’ Sanji sighs shakily. ‘’I’m really not. I haven’t earned your love like that, not after… I haven’t been… I don’t deserve it, Zoro.’’

Zoro’s body freezes up. Of course, the idiot thinks like this.

‘’Look at me, now,’’ Zoro says. He moves out of the embrace, ignoring Sanji’s whine, and takes his face in his hands. They’re eye-to-eye, and no matter how much Sanji moves, he can’t get out of the grip. ‘’You don’t have to prove yourself. We love you. I promise, who made you feel that way?’’

Sanji refuses to look Zoro in the eyes, his own way of being stubborn. ‘’No one in particular. It’s just… oh.’’ A realisation seems to come over Sanji. His eyes fill with tears. ‘’Oh, oh god.’’

‘’What’s wrong?’’

‘’I’m…’’ It’s hard for Sanji not to make his voice break. ‘’I’m so sorry.’’

‘’Curly, stop apologising, tell me what you’re thinking.’’

‘’I thought it was me. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.’’

Zoro sighs. ‘’We’ve been over this multiple times. You got fucking issues, we know that, but we expect you to come to us when they’re getting bad.’’ Sanji doesn’t respond, but a tear falls from his eye. ‘’We trust you to do that.’’

He nods slowly. ‘’I messed up. It got bad, and I thought I could fix it myself, but… I don’t think I can.’’

Zoro nods, letting go of his face and engulfing him in another hug. ‘’That’s okay. I got you now. We’ll fix it together, okay?’’

“I don’t know if this can be fixed…” Sanji whispers into Zoro’s neck. His voice sounds fragile, and broken, and exhausted . Zoro feels his heart break.

“I promise, we’ll fix it,” Zoro whispers back. “You’ve got us. Let us in, okay?”

A new round of tears flow. Zoro holds him as close as possible through it all.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

“Are your eyes closed?” Zoro’s voice is muffled by the closer door, but Sanji hears it clearly anyway.

“Yes, and I don’t know why I bother because the door is closer and you put out the lights,” Sanji responds. His hands are in front of his eyes nonetheless, because what his boyfriend wants, his boyfriend gets.

“Are you a hundred percent sure?”

“Ask me that again when you can count to a hundred!” Sanji yells back.

Zoro’s deep sigh can be heard through the door. “Just do what I ask for once, will you?” The sound of something heavy being put on the ground is loud enough to echo through the empty house.

“My eyes are closed, now give me my goddamn gift for… for what again?”

Sanji can hear the smile in Zoro’s voice. “Just wanted to do something nice for you.”

Sanji’s, honestly, slightly nervous. Their relationship is still quite new, it’s only been 8 months since that fateful night in the kitchen (which Sanji would rather not think about, but at least it got him here).

Only a month later, they ended up together. As in, officially together. Sanji awkwardly mumbled his way through a confession, until Zoro got fed up with it and just kissed him - which led to a lot of sputtering and swearing from the blond, but Zoro didn’t care. Sanji simply looked too cute with his lips and the tips of his ears bright red.

They decided to make a big change only a month ago. Zoro’s old bedroom got renovated, and Zoro’s rickety, one-person bed was swapped with a brand-new bed for 2 people. Which was not an easy adjustment.

“We’re throwing away your old bed, I don’t care.” “What’s wrong with my bed?” “Look at how old it is! We can’t even fit on it together, plus, it creaks.” “Everyone knows we have sex, Sanji.” “THEY DON’T HAVE TO HEAR IT!” “I don’t know, I think that’s kinda hot.” “You’re fucking deranged, and I hate you. We’re burning the bed.”

Slowly, the room came together as theirs. There are cookbooks, dumbbells, dress shirts and swords displayed around the room. Sanji decorated it to be cosy, going as far as to hang up fairy lights and put plants around (‘’Sanji, we have a living room. What is all of this?’’ ‘’It’s cute! Look, the lights have different settings, and you have to learn the names of the plants.’’ ‘’They have names?’’ ‘’And feelings, Marimo. I’ll hurt you if you touch them.’’)

Sanji has never felt more loved and safe. He still has off days, which often result in off weeks, but Zoro’s always there to pick up the pieces. They’ve made a proper chore schedule, so everyone contributes equally. Sanji isn’t allowed to cook more than 4 nights a week, and together they’ve made a meal plan to make sure Sanji’s eating all 3 of his meals.

Zoro turned out to be a much better boyfriend than Sanji could have hoped for: he’s still Zoro, dumb and clumsy and forgetful, but he does occasional boyfriend stuff Sanji hadn’t expected. He tries his best to be the person he believes Sanji deserves. Still, he’s never had a big surprise, the kind where Sanji has to close his eyes and somehow, Zoro convinces all their housemates to clear out.

‘’I’m coming in, keep your eyes closed,’’ Zoro yells.

Sanji complies, closing his eyes tightly behind his hands. He hears the door creak open and the lights turn on. Heavy footsteps stop right in front of him.

‘’Okay, open them.’’

Nervous, Sanji opens his eyes. He slowly lowers his hands, expecting something… Practical? New kitchen knives, an apron? Something cheesy? Flowers and chocolate?

He expected everything but Zoro to stand in front of him with a small, black kitten.

‘’Oh my god,’’ Sanji immediately coos. The kitten is comfortable lying in Zoro’s arms, completely uncaring about the world around her. Once she hears Sanji’s voice, her ears perk up. Two beady eyes look over at Sanji, and a little meow escapes her small mouth.

‘’Hold her,’’ Zoro smiles, unable to keep the happiness from his voice. Sanji immediately opens his arms. The kitten looks around dumbfounded for a moment, but quickly makes herself comfortable. She fits in Sanji’s palm perfectly. ‘’I thought you’d like her.’’

‘’’She’s so cute!’’ Sanji pets her head lightly, afraid of hurting her. The kitten leans into his touch thankfully. ‘’Why? What… How?’’

‘’I just…’’ Zoro scratches behind his ear for a moment. He sits down next to Sanji, putting his arm around the other’s shoulder. ‘’I thought you deserved something nice. She’ll keep you company when you don’t feel like going out, and when you’ve had a hard day she’ll be waiting for you here.’’

Sanji feels tears prick in his eyes. ‘’She’s adorable.’’

‘’And she’s all ours.’’ Zoro’s arm tightens. Sanji leans into his touch, unable to tear his eyes from the small creature dozing off to sleep in his hands. ‘’I got everything we need. Nami and Robin even helped pick out toys and stuff.’’

Sanji feels a warm feeling blossoming in his chest, something he learned to identify as love. ‘’What’s her name?’’

‘’I named her onigiri.’’

Big eyes look over at Zoro. ‘’You did not call our cat after your favourite food.’’

‘’It sounds cute! We can name her Oni for short!’’

‘’You’re such an idiot,’’ Sanji says. He can’t even pretend to be mad right now. ‘’I’m… I love you so much,’’ he says happily, bringing Onigiri closer to his face. Her eyes open curiously at the sudden movement.

‘’Calm down,’’ Zoro smiles. ‘’You’ve known her for a good three minutes.’’

‘’I meant you, you oaf. I love you.’’

Zoro is silent for a moment, too stunned by Sanji’s sudden confession to respond. Then, after a beat, he pulls the blond even closer, his grip tightening. He buries his face in Sanji’s hair, feeling a familiar warmth bloom in his chest. The same warmth that’s been there every time he’s looked at Sanji for the past few months.

‘’I love you too, curly.’’

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