#Our favourite bear <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[brusnichev]

THIS IS SO CUTE, AWWWWW 🥺💋

[sysig]

my 2nd request !! The skeleton brothers wearing matching pajamas :D

Day 13 - The Friendship Brothers

[red-revival]

Hi everyone look @ my dnd character <3

ID: a graphite sketch of one of my dnd characters, Captain Rezan, shirtless and with one arm propped up. Rezan is a hairy muscular man in his early 50’s with very long hair, top surgery scars, and a short beard. He looks very tired and his hair is tied up into a messy bun. End ID.

[deus-ex-mona]

shoutout to my coworker who immediately typed “rick” into the yt search bar when i approached him

[jamiemaybeme]

my favourite things about tumblr (i will edit this post everytime i think of a new one)

as of 1/8/24 (1st august because i am BRITISH), i have these:

the messages you get when there's an error. they are so much funnier than normal ones, and just make the whole situation less frustrating

the fact that posts from a literal decade ago will still sometimes show up on my dashboard/will be reblogged by people i know

the way everyone jokes about how its a hellsite held together by sheer determination, and yet it is loved by everyone who has it (as far as i know)

just how long it's managed to survive honestly

the fact that whenever i say something about tumblr irl people go "that's still around?!"

reblogging!!

also tags. i love tagging on tumblr. i love reading other people's tags. i love hiding things in the tags. it's beautiful (i hate doing tags on tiktok now)

honestly the lack of people that follow me. i like being able to post whatever tf i like. i don't have a reputation here

the fact i can just infodump and people will applaud me for it. it's great

the way everyone interacts/talks on tumblr. it's so different to anywhere else

[augusnippets]

Prompts are out!

plain text and "rules" under the cut

path of hurt:

day 1: gaslighting/hypnosis/brainwashing

day 4: amputation/degloving/vivisection

day 7: waterboarding/drowning/choking

day 10: execution/fake execution/begging for mercy

day 13: drugging/poisoning/cannibalism

day 16: humiliation/dehumanisation/conditioning

day 19: collared/branded/chipped

day 22: captivity/recapture/tearful goodbye

day 25: intimate whumper/sadistic whumper/reluctant whumper

day 28: mind control/body control/betrayal

bonus prompts: forced to watch/whipping/stalked

path of comfort:

day 2: platonic bathing/hair care/make-up

day 5: drunk caretaking/concussed caretaking/feverish caretaking

day 8: reunion/found family/friends

day 11: escape/breaking the conditioning/safe and sound

day 14: toys/gifts/celebration

day 17: forgiveness/grace/resolving a misunderstanding

day 20: homemade meal/quenched thirst/favourite treat

day 23: massage/wiping away tears/gentle touch

day 26: nightmare/warm blanket/snuggling

day 29: singing/first words/inside jokes

bonus prompts: tending to nonhuman whumpee's nonhuman parts/protective caretaker/whumpee wearing caretaker's clothes

secret third path — whumperless whump:

day 3: thunderstorm/blizzard/heat wave

day 6: car accident/plane crash/ship wreck

day 9: hypothermia/overheating/dehydration

day 12: lost/trapped/avalanche

day 15: food poisoning/starvation/throwing up

day 18: apocalypse/infection/self administered medicine

day 21: delirium/vertigo/hallucinations

day 24: animal attack/bear trap/land mine

day 27: migraines/chronic pain/phantom pains

day 30: self-harm/addiction/overdose

bonus prompts: flashbacks/relapse/medical complications

day 31 — bonus day :) write whatever you feel like writing today or have a nice day of rest

AuguSnippets is an event that encourages the short and sweet of the whump genre. Ideally, your drabbles would be under 500 or even under 100 words, maybe even just a dialogue prompt. This, however, does not mean I won't reblog longer prompt fills! Don't stress too much on that limit. I just think it's sometimes nice to challenge yourself to write shorter drabbles, and it can also work as a very good exercise to write daily or semi-daily, and it doesn't need a lot of prep.

As for tagging your work, please use the appropriate trigger warnings. This is so everyone can stay safe and avoid potentially triggering topics while participating. Also, if your work is nsfw, please don't forget to tag it as mature content! If your work is not tagged properly, I won't be able to reblog it! Thank you!

Our special tag will be "#augusnippets day [x]". On the first day that would be "#augusnippets day 1". This is so I and others can find your work easier! You can also tag the blog, that's an even more surefire way to get me to notice your prompt fill :)

Is this a writing only event?

Yeah, this one is exclusively writing focused.

Do I have to use the special tag or tag this blog?

Not if you don't want to get featured on this blog :) It's just so I can find your work easier and reblog it here! If that's not something you're interested in, just scribble away without it.

Is the "under 500" a hard limit for the word count?

No, but I encourage everyone to try and keep to it in the spirit of this event.

Can I submit nsfw works?

Yes! Just please tag it properly :)

Can I mix and match the prompts from different paths?

Yes! Have fun!

What do I need to do to get the completionist badge?

Either you need to complete one whole path, or complete 10 prompt fills altogether while mixing and matching. Those who complete all 30 days (and maybe even the bonus day) will get something extra special!

Can I write fandom related things?

Yes! This event is both for original characters and fandom related writing.

Will there be an AO3 collection?

Yes! Here

[lowkeyren]

YOUR DOCTOR AT BAY, KEEPS THE NIGHTMARES AWAY!

in which — your boyfriend comforts you from a nightmare

pairing —dr ratio x gn!reader

"an apple a day, keeps the doctor away" lol get it, short comfort fic ft our favourite doctor, from req: here!, reblogs w comments are vv much appreciated, anyway please enjoy!!! <3

the air constricts around you like a tightening vice, each breath coming harder than the last; your quiet sobs fill the room as the darkness envelops you like a shroud. the recurring nightmares haunt you each time you close your eyes, never failing to ensnare you in their chilling embrace.

the suffocating darkness presses in, its weight bearing down on your chest as you struggle to breathe; you curl into yourself, sweat lining against your back, clutching the bedsheets as if it’s your only tether to reality. the sheets twist and damp from your restless movements, you let out a yelp involuntarily, a desperate cry that echoes in the oppressive silence of the night. 

your heart races, pounding in your chest with each beat reverberating through your entire body, amplifying the fear coursing through your veins. your breathing now erratic, your eyebrows furrowing as you feel the walls around you slowly closing in.

in the midst of your turmoil, a gentle touch breaks through the chaos. dr ratio’s hand finds yours, his touch cool and reassuring against the feverish warmth of your skin. 

“you’re safe with me.” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering fear.

with his other arm, dr ratio draws you close, enveloping you in his comforting embrace. his heartbeat, steady and strong, reverberates against your chest, reassuring that you’re indeed, safe with him.

“i’m sorry i woke you up. i’m fine i—” you say meekly, unable to steady the shaky tone in your voice. “shh,” he squeezes your hand lightly, “you don’t need to apologize, i will be here for you, no matter what.”

you subconsciously lean into him, the scent of his skin a familiar anchor in the swirling maelstrom of your mind. he strokes your back gently, the tension in your brows loosen as you nestle into him. the fear and dread gnawing at your mind slowly dissipates, replaced by the soft touch of dr ratio tracing gentle circles on your back.

he notices stains of tears glistening on your cheeks, and your figure trembling slightly. “look at me,” you look up to meet his gaze as he wipes away the lingering tears with his thumb, “take a deep breath, it was just a dream.” his voice is tender and soothing, breaking through the remnants of fear. 

“i'm here,” he leans down, his breath warm against your hair. “and i’m not going anywhere.”

his arms are wrapped securely around you, the warmth of his body seeps into yours, chasing away any lingering chill of fear. he continues to stroke your back, the tender motion helps to unravel the tight knots of tension that have taken hold of your muscles.

“everything will be okay.” gradually, the room around you starts to feel less oppressive as you feel the walls that once seemed to trap you now loosening and expanding. “you’re safe with me,” he repeats, his gaze locking with yours.

you nod at his reassurance, opting to bury your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear slowly lulling you back to sleep. he continues to hold you tightly, his fingers gently threading through your hair in soothing motions. 

he presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head, "sleep well, my dear." 

with those final words, you finally allow yourself to fully relax, the safety of his embrace guiding you into a deep, restful sleep. 

no matter what nightmares may come, dr ratio will always be there to hold you through them; even in the darkest hours, you are not alone. no matter how irrational “love” may seem, he knows that he will never fail to pull you back from the abyss that threatens to consume you, not when you’re safely cradled in his arms.

masterlist

[forzaferraris]

PUPPY LOVE — po5

pairing: patricio o'ward x stella! reader summary: in which the dog got your attention first but the boy keeps you forever. warnings: tooth rotting fluff, sexual innuendos, inaccurate timeline of events, reader doesn't know much about indycar, arrow mclaren when i catch you arrow mclaren, pato and his fascination with calling reader hermosa, references to the art that is bax lurmans romeo + juliet film, love blooms in abu dhabi and blossoms further in miami. style: social media file faceclaim: isabllemathersx on instagram, however you can picture her as whoever you please authors note: trying a new formatting approach for fics with this one. this is fic number 2/3 of my 3 fanfic options i posted earlier. sorry if this is a little ooc for pato, i also original had thi based this instead of meeting at indycar but instead they meet at the 2023 abu dhabi grand prix instead ! add yourself to my taglist !

WELCOME TO YOU'VE GOT MAIL . . . find a match today !

would you like to send a message? YES / NO

you: what's your dogs name, right now >:( pato: his name is norbi why are you on a dating app? surely finding love isn't all that difficult for you? you: originally i did it to entertain my girls' group chat, but after every loser i've tried to meet "naturally" ultimately fumbling the bad so disrespectfully, why not take this dating app stuff a bit more seriously 🤷🏻‍♀️ pato: what are you even doing in abu dhabi anyway? you: how do you know im in abu dhabi? pato: this app is location-based, you wouldn't have been able to match with me if you weren't in the same location as me, plus you just confirmed it with that question. . . . seen 3 minutes ago

ynstella just posted to their story . . .

seen by racerbia, francisca.cgomes and 12,3009 others [ caption one: why did i say yes to coming to abu dhabi, shit is fucking hot ] [ caption two: abu dhabi gp, i'm here to make you my bitch ] [ caption three: your favourite duo back to cause trouble @/racerbia ] view more story replies . . . landonorris baby stella in the building ! ⤷ ynstella baby? lando norris i'm older than you ⤷ landonorris by like three whole months >:( ⤷ ynstella L + ratio + wrong + get a job + unfunny + you fell off + never liked you anyway + cope ⤷ ynstella im gonna curse the race, are we prepared for max verstappen 3x wdc ! ⤷ landonorris i'm literally going to to dob on you, you're being so mean rn >:( ⤷ ynstella you dirty little dibber dobber cindy !

alexandrasaintmleux prettiest girl <3 ⤷ ynstella says you i'm gonna smooch your face on that podium cmere mwah mwah mwah kissy kissy ⤷ alexandrasaintmleux stop got me blushing, charles it looking at me weird ⤷ ynstella he doesn't have to know baby girl x

francisca.cgomes you're so hot, if dating app hottie doesn't pull you i might ! ⤷ ynstella i'm blushing, flirting with the enemy, whatever will my dad think ⤷ francisca.cgomes babe it's a modern day romeo + juliet, but the baz lurhman edition. ⤷ ynstella who is who in this situation? oscarpiastri lando said stop being mean to him on social media ⤷ ynstella lando give oscar his phone back

racerbia we r so cute, i luv us !

pooknation groupchat . . .

instagram dms between ynstella and patriciooward . . .

ynstella has posted . . .

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux and 88,340 others ynstella abu dhabi, i came i saw and max verstappen concurred !

view more . . mclaren our own resident mclaren girl will always post about redbull and not mclaren ⤷ ynstella i'd post oscar but lando is somehow always in the background of the pictures i take, i'm not having lando on my account 🙅🏻‍♀️ ⤷ landonorris can i go one day without you publicly hating me ⤷ ynstella when you get a race win next season pooh bear x username pooh bear? is lando the man she's trying to soft launch? not actually enemies but enemies to lovers?? ⤷ ynstella good lord no. lando norris wishes he could have a chance with me ⤷ landonorris disgusting don't put words in my mouth. you wish you're the one wishing you could have a chance with me ⤷ oscarpiastri nurse, they're back at it again francisca.cgomes i need more of this soft launch shit. it's like a drug to me post more. im foaming at the mouth. ⤷ ynstella can i hard launch our relationship instead ⤷ pierregasly nah bc i am literally right here man ⤷ ynstella get out of my comments with my gf pear

username are we ignoring that y/n is soft launching a man, rue, when was this? ⤷ username recently it seems ⤷ username shocked. i wonder what her dad thinks ?? ⤷ ynstella not that its any of your business, but my dad's actually quite charmed with him x

patriciooward has posted . . . 📍 abu dhabi , united arab emirates

liked by arrowmclaren, elbaoward, racerbia and 63,001 others patriciooward what a weekend, cya next year !

view more. . .

username there's one too many soft launch pictures in this race weekend dump ⤷ username ladies we've lost another one ⤷ username all men are the same. breaking my heart elbaoward since when did "have a good time in abu dhabi" mean somehow get someone to soft launch? ⤷ patriciooward the just a silly lil guy rizz worked unfortunately ⤷ elbaoward i doubt that, so much.

ynstella just posted to their story . . .

seen by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 10,817 others

[ caption one: where to next 🛫 ] [ caption two: mother hood looks good on me ] [ caption three: boyfriend reveal ]

francisca.cgomes i can't believe i'm in love with a MILF ! ⤷ ynstella i want you so bad 😩 ⤷ francisca.cgomes lets kiss rn before our boyfriends see

alexandrasaintmleux i think norbi is cute enough to convince charles that we need to get a dog ⤷ ynstella ugh i hate when you mention that man >:( how come WE can't get a dog together ⤷ alexandrasaintmleux my love because you are a capulet and i am a montague </3 ⤷ ynstella as long as lando is the character that dies first i'd happily performe shakespeare with y'all

landonorris this is insane, my brain can't keep up with the events that are unfolding right in front of me ⤷ ynstella pook i think that's both a you issue and a skill issue, double homicide. ⤷ landonorris oh so you hate me again ⤷ ynstella i never stopped, if you have 0 haters i've died <3

patriciooward te mo hermosa ⤷ ynstella shut up, don't tell me you love me over text, that's so foul ⤷ patriciooward i've been telling you i love you for two months now </3 ⤷ ynstella oh shit, i forgot to buy you an anniversary gift </3 ⤷ patriciooward oh hermosa, what am i going to do with you ⤷ ynstella well when you word it like that . . . i could think of a few things

patriciooward and ynstella just posted to their stories . . .

seen by arrowmclaren, racerbia, francisca.cgomes and 22,010 others [ caption one: feliz aniversario (happy anniversary) ] [ caption two: happy 2 months ! feliz aniversario ] [ caption three: came for the dog. stayed for the owner <3 ]

mclaren happy anniversary ! ⤷ ynstella thanks admin, love u so big x

ynstella i adore you, ⤷ patriciooward te adoro mas, hermosa ⤷ ynstella happiest with you in my life i fear ⤷ patriciooward good, i don't plan on going anywhere

authors note: abu dhabi 2023, you are so special to me <3 please enjoy this little pato o'ward fanfic. praying, manifesting the tags let me post this and doesn't shadowban me sobbing crying throwing up

[beenbaanbuun]

ateez as sharks

i have a passion for sharks🧍🏻‍♀️

park seonghwa - whale shark

honestly they’re just gentle giants but beautiful gentle giants!! such sweet and kind 18 meter long babies…

they’re known to be one of the least aggressive fish in the sea and are incredibly un-territorial! it reminds me of how seonghwa just lets san invade his space all the time

kim hongjoong - pyjama shark

tiny little guys who look so incredibly cunty!!!! i love them they’re so cool and fashionable just like hongjoong

they live in reefs which are incredibly lively environments just like i imagine the hj/wy/jh dorm must be

jeong yunho - wobbegong shark

LOOK HOW SILLY!!!! just like our giant silly little guy yunho (they also grow surprisingly bigger than you expect! 3.2 metres for this guy is wild, he should be tiny)

they’re not considered dangerous to people but they’ve been known to attack a few!! just like how yunho is so calm but everyone agrees he’d be fucking dangerous if he got angry 👀

kang yeosang - zebra shark

LOOK AT THESE LITTLE GUYS AND TELL ME THEY ARENT THE CUTEST THINGS EVER (yeosang included!!!)

i was going to put a fun fact here but i’m going to quote my angel @vesvosmozhno and say that the fact that they’re zebra sharks but are spotty and not stripy is incredibly yeosang coded

choi san - greenland shark

greenland sharks are just abnormally large, freaky little giant guys

they’re very slow and while they’re primarily scavengers and eat whatever comes along, they have been known to engage in stealth attacks, even taking down polar bears… just like san’s aggression on stage comes from FUCKING NOWHERE HES SO GENTLE OFF STAGE WTF HAPPENS

song mingi - saw shark

look how cute this giant fucking creature is! they’re so silly and sweet and have to cutest little smile ever

saw sharks are kind of clumsy (you would be too if you had a giant saw on the end of your face) but they’re incredible (and aggressive) hunters! it’s like how mingi is a cutie patootie until he steps foot on stage and then… well🧍🏻‍♀️

jung wooyoung - nurse shark

nurse sharks are so sleek and perfect oh my god (also my favourite type of shark, i just think they’re so incredibly pretty)

they have an impressive dorsal fin which most people would see as a sign of danger but they’re actually docile and sweet under their dangerous exterior!!!

choi jongho - thresher shark

no thoughts, head empty; i love thresher sharks so dearly. just look at them and tell me it isn’t jongho? those massive fucking eyes god i love them

but despite how silly they might seem, they’re so fucking cool! their tails can grow to 3 meters long as is used as a weapon to stun their prey and make hunting a whole lot easier for them. they’re so impressive omg

[fkinavocado]

a very indulgent exploration of what could've, should've been...

Don't Worry Darling (SPIN-OFF) - Masterlist, Author’s Notes & Warnings / alternatively, read on wattpad

Part One (word count: 6.2k)

“... Jack? Excuse me, Jack? Is that really you?”

The man reluctantly stopped in his tracks and turned around, recognizing the woman but having forgotten her name. “Oh… hi there, uhm…?”

“Emma. It’s Emma. You remember me, right?”

“Yeah, you’re, uhm… you used to work at the hospital…”

Emma approached him, noting he wasn’t keen on breaching the gap himself. Poor fellow, she thought. He looked a mess. She was surprised she’d even recognized him. “Oh, I’m still at the hospital! How are you, Jack? You know, we’re all worried about you. Why didn’t you take us up on our offer, hm? We’d have loved to help you any way we could… It can’t have been easy. Gloria told us she came over once with a home cooked casserole but no one answered the door. She assumed you’d moved. Which is good, we thought. But we couldn’t get a hold of you, you must’ve also changed your number…”

Jack wasn’t really making eye contact. His gaze downcast, a hoodie atop of a beanie on his head and an oversized, worn out puffer jacket that almost swallowed him up. He looked very poorly even hidden behind all that. His facial hair unkempt, as was his hair tucked underneath his beanie, seemingly longer strands of it all messy and straw-like peeking out. His glasses loose at his temples. His face was hollow cheeked and she really feared he wasn’t looking after himself properly at all. But what really stood out to her was the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

“Yeah… I moved out of there. Too many memories.”

“Those were her favourite… pink roses,” she mused. “You miss her so, don’t you, Jack? You can’t even bear talking to me about her, you poor man, even after all this time… What must you be going through… do you– agh. This is so insensible of me to even ask. Forgive me. But if it’s any consolation, us at the hospital haven’t given up hope. We still think she’s out there, somewhere, our Alice…”

Jack cleared his throat and took a step back. “I should get going…”

“Of course. Do take care of yourself, Jack. And if you ever want to reach out, you know where to find us. Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,...” he stammered a bit, not knowing what else to say. He walked for a while in the wrong direction, just in case the nosy woman decided to follow him. 

He hadn’t moved. That would’ve been near impossible, and since he managed to dodge the bullet while the police were sniffing around for the longest time, he figured there wasn’t any reason to do so anymore. But he couldn’t have her know that, which is why he never answered the door to the other woman with the casserole either. 

After making sure she wasn’t following him, he resumed his walk home. He wished he could find some type of work from home. He’d be saving so much time and money on the commute, plus he’d always be there, which was quite imperative, all things considered.

What if there was a power outage? The one time that’d happened, there’d been dire consequences. Consequences he hadn’t had to endure. And he simply couldn’t allow that to happen again.

There were so many things that could go wrong while he wasn’t home.

Plus, if he worked remote he could take on a full shift. As it was, he had to work part-time, which wasn’t nearly enough to make ends meet. But the commute and all the prep he had to do were taking up too much time, time he didn’t want to waste here.

Finally arriving home, he made sure to secure the front door- the lock and all 3 of the bolts. 

Checking the computer screen, he only had 40 minutes left. The woman had made him late, what with all the detours he had to make to be sure she wasn’t following him.

Canned tuna it was, then. Again. No time for cooking. Not that he had much in the fridge anyway. 

He always felt antsy between the time he got back home and logging in. He wanted to get everything done and out of the way as soon as possible- cooking, laundry, cleaning (more like tidying up, the apartment was far from clean even by his standards), everything on autopilot, peeking at the computer screen every now and then to make sure he didn’t miss his log-in window.

With 20 minutes to spare, that was his que. 

“Oh!” He rushed back to the kitchen to retrieve the flowers, then using the keys that he wore on a chain around his neck for safekeeping, he unbolted yet another set of locks on the bedroom door. 

There she was. 

His heart always swelled in his chest seeing her there, safe and sound. Everyday day, without fail, a sigh of relief escaped his lips once he entered the bedroom. He’d probably never stop worrying while he was away for work.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time…” he hummed the lyrics to a song he used to sing to her often, placing the flowers in a vase by the bed. “Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” He sat on the edge of the bed and reached to caress her supple cheek. “But I love you the most.”

Jack knew he did. Who else would do all this for her? Nobody! He tended after her, emptied out her waste bags as well as checked the respective connecting catheters were secure in place, cleaned her up, all without so much as wrinkling his nose. He replaced the IV, taking note that there was some bruising on that arm so he made sure to switch, he removed her compressive socks and massaged her limbs thoroughly before putting them back on, even made sure to hydrate her lips though she was getting all her nutrients through her IV, hell- he thought of everything. He did it all for her happily, and would do much more if needed. 

She’d done so much for them, too. 

She still did!

But long gone were the days where he’d see her come home from back to back shifts at the hospital, with barely any time to get some sleep in before she had to head back, all because she had to support the both of them all while paying off her student loans. 

Medschool was so expensive. Had he met her before he’d have talked her out of that career path. He’d have talked her out of any career! No. That was his job. He was the caretaker. He was the breadwinner. It’d been like that since the beginning of time. It was only natural for the man to provide. The fact that she’d had to for all that time had been killing him, every day that he had to sit at home and wait for her to get back from the hospital only to see her defeated, exhausted, drained beyond belief. 

Resident doctors were paid shit but strung out to the max. Especially surgeons. 

Meanwhile, Jack had struggled to find a job for the longest time. Unlike her, he hadn’t gone to college, let alone university. His parents couldn’t afford it at the time and he knew better than to tie himself up in student loans. He’d had odd jobs but nothing really ever stuck. He had no real skills, and every entry job demanded some form of higher education nowadays.

Plus, someone had to do house chores, cook and clean. And they couldn’t afford help. 

It’d been eating him up inside. It was all backwards! 

All up until he’d met someone online and got to talking over a game of World of Warcraft. This guy swore up and down about this dark web programme he’d found, but it was all very hush-hush, and Jack had to put in some serious gameplay time until he managed to extricate the info out of him.

The guy was very paranoid about telling him and even used a code system for what to look up. Jack took the lead and before long, he fell down the rabbit hole of what he now knew to be the Victory Project.

He got so immersed trying to digest all this new info being thrown his way all of a sudden that he nearly got caught listening to one of the podcasts when she’d gotten home from the hospital one day. He’d even forgotten to call the plumber. Boy- had that pissed her off.

She was already on edge all the time. Never had any time for him anyway- but if she got upset over silly little things she shut him out completely. 

He felt emasculated. Rejected. Reduced to a housewife.

Jack smirked to himself, as he tended to her whilst pondering all that. Securing the straps back around her wrists he mused at how things had changed. “I fixed it for us, I told you I would. Now you’re the one who’s waiting for me just as we speak. And I don’t even come home to you in scrubs, do I? No, I come home to you all handsome, suit and tie and ready to get my fill of you. Never too tired for you, am I darling? You’re such a great cook, god knows my mouth waters just thinking of all you’ve slaved over for us to feast on, but all I wanna do is feast on you instead. Aren’t you lucky?”

Jack watched her expressionless eyes for a moment as if waiting for her to answer him back, and promptly remembered to apply her eye drops, noticing they looked extra blood-shot than normal. He then finally got comfy in bed next to her. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He was hard already just in anticipation of the way she’d excitedly open the door for him. The door to their lavish home, and their extravagant life together that he’d earned for the two of them. Him. 

He fixed the device around his own eyes and turned it on, taking her hand in his. 

“Welcome to the Victory Project. There are currently 72 active users.”

Nothing beat this. The pleasant, warm afternoon air sweeping through his perfectly coiffed hair as he rushed to get home to her from the Victory Headquarters. Here, the weather was always perfect… whereas, in the apartment, he had to keep the heating on a lower setting, the bill was ridiculous during the colder months. He always had to wear layers and layers, but not in the bedroom- no, he kept a radiator in there. All for her. He had to switch it off for safety reasons while he was away at work but it wasn’t like she was aware of her surroundings anyway! All the more reasons why he had to find something remote so he could work from home and clear up all these little things that bugged him about the whole arrangement. 

But he didn’t want to think about all that, not while he was here. No, here, those problems didn’t exist. This was his preferred reality, this was what he chose to believe was real. All the rest was just a means to an end.

He could feel all his exhaustment leave his body the closer he got to the house. He seldom wondered why she couldn’t have done the same for him coming back from the hospital. Why she couldn’t just leave all that baggage at the door and be glad to be home, back to him, where he waited for her like a lovesick puppy with separation anxiety.

He knew the answer to that now, of course, and that was all Frank’s merit- the brain behind this whole thing. He’d listened to his podcasts for a long while before he enrolled into the program. There was no way she could ever respect him within their given dynamic at the time. The roles were reversed and she couldn’t allow herself to be a woman to her man.

He’d fixed it, though, and boy, had Frank been right.

Every day, without fail, he knocked on the door coming home from work and there she was- all smiles and carefree and so eager to please him, in any way he saw fit. All because she respected him now. He was the man of the house, he was the breadwinner, he put a roof over her head, he got her all her little heart desired and kept her satisfied and happy. 

Which is why when nobody answered the door he was a bit taken aback.

Using his key that he’d rarely ever had to use himself to unlock the door, he let himself in and carefully inspected the silent house.

He knew, realistically, that there was no way something could’ve gone wrong- there was no crime in Victory. No one had broken into their home. But still, he searched the house tentatively. “Alice?”

Everything was spotless, and most striking of all, he couldn’t smell a trace of the homecooked meal he’d so been looking forward to. That tuna was enough to sustain his physical body, but not his large appetite.

Reaching the bedroom, he furrowed his brows with worry upon finding her… sleeping. Passed out on the bed, clad in her street clothes. She’d seemingly come back home from town exhausted and must’ve stretched her bones a bit by the looks of it. 

He contemplated waking her up. Maybe crawling between her thighs and having her gasp awake at the feel of him lapping languidly at her folds. He loved waking her up like that, and she did too. She loved being loved on, and Jack absolutely loved pleasuring her. She was so much more responsive, so much more sensitive to his touch, he could pleasure her over and over for hours on end. Probably ‘cause of all the practice he was having on a regular basis. And maybe he adjusted some settings regarding his stamina while creating his profile too, but at the end of the day, why not? He did it for her. All of this was for her!

Jack grunted to himself before closing the door to the bedroom so he wouldn’t perturb her sleep, deciding last minute to forgo his initial plans. Funny he’d been reminiscing about how things used to be just in time for this to happen all of a sudden.

It must’ve been a glitch in the system or something. This wasn’t in line with what he’d designed for themselves. Here, they were never tired, ill or imperfect in any way. Jack made a mental note to look into this after he logged out.

In the meanwhile- he’d never tried his hand at cooking here, where presumably he’d be a lot better at it than he was in reality. 

Just like with everything else.

*

Alice blinked her eyes awake. She took in her surroundings and hesitantly stood up on the bed in the dark room, letting her sight adjust. 

How did she get back here? Not here, here. She had an inkling of how she’d managed that- but back to the house, from the Headquarters. She couldn’t remember making the trek back.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

Maybe this was the default setting she woke up to everytime after entering… the simulation. Because, what else was this if not that?!

How long was she out of it? Judging by the darkness surrounding her, a good few hours. Perking her ears up, she could hear music- so Jack was home too.

She cradled her knees to her chest, trying to let it all sink in. She hadn’t had time to properly digest what had happened, in her unconscious state.

Hell, she was surprised she could even remember.

But this explained it… explained all the fuzzy deja vu-like flashbacks she kept having. Explained her brain fog and all the things she just couldn’t follow through in her train of thought. Explained why she sometimes couldn’t account for most of her day until Jack came home from work, almost as if she’d been on auto-pilot. 

Explained all the vivid “dreams”. 

They weren’t fanciful dreams, idealistic wishes of a progressive feminist world for which she’d gotten shock therapy at the Victory’s doctor’s orders.

They were her memories.

Waking up tied down to that bed… her own bed, from another life, had been traumatic, but she clearly was still in shock to be so calm about it. 

She hadn’t been calm initially of course- not when she couldn’t move her arms or blink her eyes shut. 

She’d managed to slip out of the confines, her wrists weak and frail and barely recognizable, yanking her IV out of her vein by accident- she hadn’t even known it was there!, all in an effort to get those things that forced her eyes open off of her face.

She’d been hysteric. Tried to muffle her own screams, because she didn’t know who was around to hear them. Tried to calm herself down, but the more she noticed, the more she hyperventilated. Like the fact that had both urinary and rectal catheters sticking out of her. Then she noticed how emaciated she looked, almost like she couldn’t even recognize her own body. She couldn’t feel her limbs, she felt numb and achy all over, bruises all across her skin from sitting still for so long. Her throat was hoarse, she couldn’t really scream that loud even if she wanted to.

She’d fumbled out of bed and immediately collapsed to the floor. She was too weak to stand, and she prayed she hadn’t broken any bones in her fall. She sat there crying in a fetal position for god knows how long, thinking of all the fractures she’d fixed in the OR, and all her knowledge that had gone to waste. 

All her life that had gone to waste!

This room, this bedroom- her old life came back to her in a flash, flooding all her senses. It felt like everything was finally clicking into place, and despite how miserable and utterly devastated she felt, it was a relief to finally figure it out. 

With the way nobody came rushing into the bedroom, she knew she was alone. Unless Jack was at this computer, headphones on– oh god. She felt her mind split into two trying to reconcile the fact that these two very different men were one and the same!

She was alone strapped to the bed- which could only mean one thing. He wasn’t constrained like she was. He hadn’t been forced into this. Unless they were being kept separate… both victims of this sick mindfuck. 

Because… surely– surely Jack couldn’t be behind this.

… Could he?

Scrambling for the door, determined to get some answers, she reached for the doorknob.

When she couldn’t get it to open, she mustered up all her strength to stand up- but still- it was no use. It was locked. And with the way it felt it looked like the door had been tampered with, bolted shut from the outside, not just locked. 

She was trapped. A prisoner in her own home. She eyed the windows next and even if by some miracle they weren’t bolted shut too- she knew she was too weak to try and use the fire escape. She’d surely succumb to her death trying to evade. She needed a plan- a better plan.

Her brain was scurrying to come up with something-anything, all the while dry heaving at the sight of her waste bags still attached to her by those catheters and the overall stale smell of the room, but she knew that with how dehydrated she was, vomiting would take her out completely at that point. She head to keep it together, had to–

She’d heard what she recognized to be the front door. Her blood froze in her veins. She didn’t know who it was, she had no idea who was behind all this. She had no clue where Jack was, if he even was part of this– her heart told her no, he couldn’t have, but at this point she had no way of knowing what was real or not, let alone what this all meant.

She couldn’t risk being found conscious. She was clearly being kept in a comatose state, treated as one such patient at least, and the fact that she’d woken up from that induced state was definitely not intended to happen.

She remembered what had happened before she woke up like this- she’d reached the infamous, off limits Victory Headquarters. Because a plane had crashed in that direction, and the trolley driver didn’t believe her nor wanted to take her there!

She’d made the trek all the way there… it’d taken her ages, in the scorching sun- and finally, finally, she’d reached the imposing building, in hopes of finding some help or at least some answers at that point!

Next thing she knew, she’d woken up strapped to this bed. Her bed, in her old bedroom, from her old life that had been stolen away from her!

She needed to gather as much information as possible, and the only way she could do that was to get back into that bed and pretend she never came to.

There was no other way.

She hurried as best she could, barely making it back to the bed, made sure she was laid out in the same outstretched position. By some miracle, the catheters were still in place, their respective bags on the floor by the foot of the bed. The hardest part was fixing whatever that contraption was over her face and around her eyes. It dug deep into her flesh and she remembered to wipe any traces of tears from her face when new ones began rolling down her face. She was surprised her body could even produce them with how parched she felt. She then inserted the needle back into her bruised vein– which was sure to get infected at this rate, whoever was doing this to her was amateur at best, or they didn’t much care to keep her alive. She didn’t know which prospect was worse. She slipped her wrists back through the strap loops, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious she’d gotten them a bit loose when she struggled her way out of them. 

And then she’d waited. And waited. And waited. All the while a bright red light scanned her eyeballs systematically, no doubt whatever was used to induce her into that trance or whatever it was that created the optimal parameters for the alternate reality to take place. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around it. She couldn’t even begin to understand how it worked- all she knew was that it was all too real to be just a dream. No. That was a controlled environment. The world simulation came to her again.

Her whole body froze as she’d heard the lock, then what she counted to be 3 other bolts on the bedroom door. She could only see directly above her, and that barely- but she could hear him when he came in. 

Smell him, even. 

And it wasn’t the smell of expensive cologne she’d grown used to, but a more familiar smell. A smell that felt more real, more ingrained in her subconscious- that of clothes he’d dug out of the laundry hamper to wear a few more times when everything else was too dirty even for his own standards, mixed with canned tuna and the faintest amount of deodorant that did nothing to mask the fact that he’d skipped showering for a day or two.

Her heart sank when she heard him hum to himself the song that had been stuck in her mind for ages- the one she’d been humming herself but couldn’t remember where she knew it from. This is where she knew it from. It’d been their song, in a way, a song he’d made up just for her.

“Darling, I… miss you all the time… Got you flowers, your favourite! Even that pesky Emma from the hospital remembers they’re your favourite. You’re so loved, hm? My precious girl.” She felt him sit on the edge of the bed and tried her best not to flinch when he leaned in to caress her cheek. “But I love you the most.”

She could feel her eyes well up with tears. Tears she couldn’t even blink away. 

He then started tending to her and she mustered up all of her willpower not to lurch at him when he’d gotten her out of her restraints- she knew she was no match for him, not in her weakened state by any means.

He was doing this to her. It was him! All while declaring his love for her. She felt her heart break into a million pieces, all the while forcing herself not to make any movements and break her cover. Not even when he cleaned her with wet wipes up and checked the catheters, emptying the waste bags. God- she wished she was dead. For a while she zoned out completely, much like rape victims. She just let it happen to her, dissociating from her body completely, mentally checking out.

He’d eventually poured what must’ve been eyedrops into her sockets and that brought her back to reality. Whatever reality was anymore…

And then… to her utter shock, she felt him get in bed next to her. The familiar clank of the device she’d placed back onto herself could be heard and she realized he was putting on the same headgear. 

He was… joining her? He was willingly putting himself through this? Sure, he wasn’t forced into it against his will, there was nobody strapping himself to the bed, nobody feeding him through an IV and treating him like a comatose patient.

But he was entering the simulation the same way she was. Through that headgear.

Is this what he did everyday while he was “at work”? Was this the infamously secret Victory Project that she couldn’t even ask him about- exiting that alternate reality and coming back here?

She heard him switch it on and then the whole room went dark before a projector of sorts played a familiar black and white scene on the ceiling, above the bed. She felt him interlace his fingers with hers and she was done for- she couldn’t fight it. Whatever this was, it was working fast, making her slip into unconsciousness almost immediately.

Followed directly after by her waking up in her other bedroom. Unrestrained. Nothing to force her eyes open. Clean. Rejuvenated even.

But scared shitless.

Traumatised.

Heartbroken.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, trying to make sense of it all in the darkness. Thankful to be able to move freely, thankful to feel like her old self, but well aware that it was all an illusion, that her real self was held hostage somewhere god knows where. Helpless, frail and alone.

She felt conflicted. Why was he doing this?! Why had he done this to her? She’d heard him say he loved her most. Heard he’d brought her flowers, even though she couldn’t even see them. Felt him tend to her, he was doing a lousy job at it but was keeping her alive and she could tell he was trying his best, being gentle, careful, thoughtful even when the reality was he didn’t have to. Not when, for all he knew, she was unconscious. 

This was insanity. 

There was no other explanation. No other justification. She understood the nuances- could see why this was- on paper- a better life. But it was fake! And most of all, it wasn’t her choice!

She’d been forced into it, against her will, without her even being aware of it! Her life had been robbed away from her. Her family, her friends, her hard work. The only common denominator… was Jack.

She didn’t know how to go about it, but if there was any chance of her escaping, she had to play dumb and pretend she knew nothing.

She wasn’t sure how she could face him knowing what she did, but she had to. She had to buy time, enough time until she could put her plan into motion. 

She didn’t know if she’d succeed, but she had to try. She had to. She had to escape, claim her life back, good or bad.

She got off the bed, marvelling at how strong and healthy she felt, as opposed to how she’d collapsed on the floor in her real body. That alone emboldened her, she had to go face the music.

And face the music she did. Jack had put a record on, blasting it at high volume with little consideration to her being asleep. No surprises there.

But as she approached the kitchen, she took in the sight of him… cooking. Or, trying to cook. 

Apparently, you couldn’t tweak everything in this alternate reality. Or maybe he didn’t care to fumble with his cooking skills. Because he’d definitely perfected some of his other skills–

“You’re awake!... I didn’t have time to set the table.”

“What’s going on?” She watched him scurry around the kitchen, trying to do a dozen things at once and failing. 

“Well, I’m making you dinner. Now, we were supposed to have five courses. Unfortunately, I think we’re down to about three.” 

She took note of the mess, especially the way something was about to catch on fire on the stove.

“That– don’t look at that. That course is officially off the menu.”

That’s when it clicked in her brain– the fucker had switched up his accent! He had a British accent here! Oh, she could laugh if she didn’t feel like murdering him. She reminded herself it wouldn’t be the real him she’d be murdering, though. No, for all she knew if she harmed him in any way here, she might end up trapped inside this simulation forever if her plan failed. Or until her real body died, with no one to tend for it, even as poorly as he was, in the real world.

She had to thread carefully. “What happened?”

“I got a little aggressive with the seasoning.”

“How long have you been home?”

“Uh, a few hours.” He proceeded to make even more of a mess in his attempt to jump from one dish to the next. “Okaaay. Nope. Don’t look at that. That’s– Okay, so I’m making that roast, you know the one you made for my birthday? Only with a few changes…”

“I was here when you got here?” 

“Yeah. Asleep in the bedroom. Do you put carrots in a roast?”

“How did I get home?” That was a reasonable question. Last thing she knew of this reality was she’d reached the Headquarters. She needed to know if anyone knew about it.

“Trolley, I think.”

“Wait, so he came out and got me?!”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Jack, I got off the trolley. I saw a plane crash.”

“Alice, I think I would’ve heard if there was a plane crash.”

“No, Jack, I saw it…”

“They tend to be rather loud…”

“... and I started walking–”

“–and hard to miss.”

It was dawning on her that she wasn’t going to milk any info on this out of him. He was going to pretend the plane never crashed, of course, whatever that even meant for this simulation. Or maybe the plane crashing was only visible to her version of this altered reality. She couldn’t know for sure. But he seemed unconcerned otherwise. She didn’t think he knew she’d gone there. She really must’ve re-entered right back into the bedroom, after all, she, along with all the other women, were never meant to go up there, the Headquarters were off-limits.

Meaning that was probably from where the men entered. Since they were the only ones who came and left. The women were probably all bound to their own respective beds back in the real world, they were never meant to leave the simulation. It made sense why she’d found herself back in the house- where she belonged. And it made sense if that was where the man entered and exited since that’s where they all allegedly went everyday for “work”.

Her heart sank at the realization that it was highly probable that all the other women were victims, just like her. Unless everything and everyone else was a simulation around them.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

She tried not to flinch when Jack finally noticed she’d zoned out whilst trying to process all of this, and touched her shoulder, taking a better look at her.

“No…I don’t know–I’m not…”

Before she could react, he pulled her into his arms. That smell of expensive cologne hit her again, overriding the smell of stale clothes and canned tuna from her recent memory. And his embrace felt so familiar, so comforting, that for a moment she allowed herself to pretend like this was the person she knew to love her. The person she couldn’t wait to come back home from work everyday. The person that made her smile and laugh and moan and cry tears of happiness. She knew him well, she loved him with all her heart. And she was reluctant to accept that this man was the same that was keeping her strapped against the bed. Because that was the reality of it. 

But this version of Jack that was holding her felt so real as well…

“I had a really weird dream. A really weird dream…”

“I’m sorry.”

Her heart sank. Was he, sorry? She buried her face deeper into his chest and held her breath, stifling a sob as tears flooded her eyes immediately. She wanted to break down in his arms and ask him why he’d done this. She wanted to give him a chance to explain himself. Wanted for him to somehow, magically, make it all better.

But she knew there was no way for him to do it. There was nothing he could say or do to justify what he’d done to her, even if his intentions didn’t seem as evil as they truly were to him.

Because she knew Jack. She knew he’d probably convinced himself somehow that this was the only way out of the miserable life they were living- and be it as it were, it was her life! He’d had no right to steal it from her like that. 

“Do you know what weird dreams make me? Hungry.” He fed her a carrot he was holding jokingly then turned her around as she chewed absentmindedly, her mind racing, still taking in the reality of what her life was. Or the alternate reality, more like it.

Jack cupped her face, searching her eyes and declared solemnly, “Alice, I want to be honest with you about something.”

She almost choked on the carrot she was chewing on. Was he–

“I don’t think these mashed potatoes are gonna work.”

She swallowed, a bitter taste in her mouth at her naivete. “That’s because you need to boil them first, baby…”

“I knew it… I knew there was a step missing. Such an idiot,” he smiled bashfully.

She laughed at that. A manic laugh, but he didn’t seem to notice. Not at how incompetent he was at such a basic life skill- who the hell tries to mash raw potatoes?!- but at how hopeful she’d been for a moment there, believing he was about to confess everything just like that, out of the blue.

“Let me put a pot on…”

“No, no, no–”

“Come on, let me–”

“Make us some drinks. Relax.” He pulled her out of the kitchen and into the lounge, declaring “I am your chef tonight!”

Lord knew she desperately needed a drink at this point, so she sighed heavily, getting to it, when he stopped her in her tracks, “hey!”

“Hm?”

“You love me?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She replied like she used to, back in the real world. Something she didn’t remember ever doing here, but it just came to her by reflex now that her memory of her past life had come back to her fully. And for some reason that she couldn’t explain, she meant it, still. “The most.”

Jack seemed pleased with her answer, and resumed his ‘cooking’. Alice turned to the whiskey bottle and downed two doubles, one after the other. 

How was she ever going to get free when her stupid heart had meant what she said?

She couldn’t allow herself to be fooled by this false reality any longer. Couldn’t allow to slip into his arms again and pretend he loved her when this was anything but love. 

So she waited. Waited until he fell asleep that night (thankfully all the “cooking” had seemingly tired him out and he didn’t try anything)- praying this meant he was truly asleep.

Got dressed, tiptoed out of the house and geared up for a long journey to the Headquarters. She couldn’t risk taking the car and waking him or the neighbours up, alerting them with this unusual behaviour. There weren't any trolleys late at night by any means- everyone was sound asleep.

Everyone but her.

She was no longer asleep.

A/N: i've been meaning to get to this for the longest while! hopefully it scratches some itches we've been left with. i had fun writing this first part. more to come 👀

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

[noearchives]

seeing you cry for the first time + one piece boys

pairings: portgas d. ace x gn!reader, trafalgar law x gn!reader

a.n.: my first post ever!! have a little comfort drabble for my two favourite boys. part two will be for mister roronoa & our favourite blonde cook <3

cw: none really... reader has a tendency to hide when they cry :(

portgas d. ace

when ace finally finds you in the crow’s nest of the moby dick after half a day of searching for you, he lets out a tiny “oh!” and a chuckle.

his smile doesn't stay on his lips for long, however.

when he sees the tremble of your shoulders and the quiet sniffle from your nose, his heart drops to his stomach.

“hey, what’s wrong? don't cry, now… don't cry, okay?”

it’s stupid of you to try and hide from him. even if you’d gone to the deadliest of seas, ace would still find you, so he’s bound to find out about your tears anyways.

his first instinct was to hug you- when ace was little, his brother always clung to him when he was upset, so surely it would make you feel better too if he did the same to you, right?

he’s so, so warm. his skin’s a little sticky against yours, and the ruby beads hanging on his neck are pressing into your bones, but it doesn't matter. you can feel his hand at the back of your head, petting you like you would a cat.

he doesn't push you about why you're crying, nor does he pressure you about the fact that you're hiding from him.

the two of you stay like that for a long while.

“does this make you feel better?” he asks.

you nod.

“do you want to let go?”

you shake your head.

so you stay in his arms until you stop sobbing, letting yourself relax in ace's warmth.

.

trafalgar d. water law

law might come off as apathetic, and yes, he might give less than two shits about certain things, but when it comes to you, he can't help but pay a little more attention than usual.

he’s a silent observer. he’s noticed how you’ve become quieter than usual during meal time, avoiding the crew and him. he knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out why.

so when he sees you curled up in your room, face buried in your pillow that’s been dampened by your tears, he just sighs and sits on the edge of your bed.

“you idiot.”

law flips you over, so you cover your puffy eyes with your palms. he removes them from your face and sighs again, pressing his thumbs lightly on your swollen undereyes.

“use a cold compress later, got it?”

you don't even nod. you stare at the ceiling despite the light shining directly in your eyes, and you sniffle to stop the snot in your nose from running. law physically winces and pulls a tissue from your bedside table.

god, it’s like taking care of a child. but law bears with it anyways, holding the tissue over your nose with furrowed brows.

“don’t be gross. blow your nose.”

your blank expression drives him insane. he doesn't even know how to handle his own emotions, so could he know how to deal with another person’s?

(but for you, he’ll try.)

for now, he’ll hold your hand and help you blow your nose, listening to you talk and talk until you fall asleep.

[latanyalove]

Happy Times

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Y/N

Content: Starvation, fluff, Sanji's shy (my favourite part) and Y/N's sad past.

Anon: hello!!!! i love your recent fics and i want to request one for you 🥹 one where reader does happy dances every time she eats sanji’s food? and it’s so natural for her that she makes him shy ((in a good way for doing it

A/n: I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

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First of all, thank you for requesting! This is my first time making a request so I hope this story is to your expectations!

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After the Strawhat crew saved your poor country from its terrible leader, you were unexpectedly welcomed aboard as a new addition to the crew.

Despite your lack of devil fruit powers, Luffy saw potential in you and believed that your unique skills and determination would make you a valuable member of the crew. He admired your bravery during the fight and knew that together, you could accomplish even greater things.

He also might have gotten some persuading from a certain cook.

"Cheers to our new nakama, Y/N!" Luffy exclaimed, raising his cup in a toast.

"Cheers!" the crew chorused in unison, their cups clinking together. Each member of the Strawhat crew expressed their excitement for having you on board, promising to support and protect you as one of their own.

From Nami's approving nod to Zoro's subtle smirk, it was clear that you had earned their trust and had become an integral part of their pirate family.

As the celebration continued, you looked around the room and realized that the cook was nowhere to be found. Curiosity piqued, you excused yourself from the crew and made your way to the kitchen, where you found Sanji preparing a feast fit for a king.

You admired Sanji's culinary skills for a while, marveling at how effortlessly he would slice through vegetables and handle the sizzling oil without hesitation. As you watched him prepare the feast, you couldn't help but be in awe of his culinary prowess.

It was no wonder that he was known as the "Black Leg" and hailed as one of the greatest chefs on the Grand Line.

You decided to slip away quietly, not wanting to interrupt Sanji's cooking or draw attention to yourself.

Finding a peaceful spot on the ship, you took a moment to reflect on the incredible turn of events that led you to become a member of the Strawhat crew.

The memories of your past struggles and the newfound sense of belonging filled your heart with gratitude and determination for the adventures that lay ahead.

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It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, you were living in a country oppressed by an unjust ruler. The people had been stripped of their wealth, forced to give all of their money as a gift to the ruler on the 10th anniversary of their reign.

You were once a part of an orphanage that suffered greatly under the ruler's oppressive regime. The orphanage struggled to provide basic necessities for the children, and you witnessed firsthand the hardships faced by the people.

As one of the oldest children in the orphanage, you were burdened with responsibilities beyond your years. From the age of 10, you were expected to take care of the younger children, ensuring they were fed, clothed, and safe. It was a heavy weight to bear, but it taught you resilience and compassion at a young age.

You often found yourself questioning the quality and safety of the food made from the meager rations provided by the adults. However, you had no other choice but to eat it yourself and feed it to the younger children, hoping it would sustain them.

Surviving each day became a delicate balance between fulfilling your responsibilities and ensuring everyone's survival.

But one day, the Straw Hat crew, led by the fearless Monkey D. Luffy, arrived in the country with a mission to liberate the oppressed people. With their extraordinary abilities and unwavering determination, they fought against the unjust ruler and his forces, bringing hope and freedom to the once-struggling nation.

As they defeated the ruler and his regime, the people rejoiced, and a new era of peace and prosperity began to unfold.

Everyone thought it was the right decision for you to go with them. . .

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆..⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆..⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆..⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

"Y/N?" A voice called you from behind, belonging to Nami.

You turned around to face Nami, a wide smile spreading across your face. "Yes, Nami?" you replied, gratitude filling your voice.

"Sanji said that the food is ready," Nami informed you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The aroma of the freshly cooked meal wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the meager rations you were accustomed to.

Your stomach growled in response to Nami's news, reminding you of the constant hunger you had endured in the orphanage. The thought of a properly cooked meal filled with nourishment made your mouth water.

As you followed Nami into the kitchen, you noticed that everyone was there, engaged in lively conversation, yet no one touched their food. It seemed as if they were waiting for someone, and curiosity piqued within you.

"Finally! There you are, Y/N!" Luffy exclaimed, his mouth drooling as he resisted from touching the meat in front of him.

You sat beside Nami, a sense of guilt washing over you as you apologized for being gone for so long.

"Now Y/N-san, why don't you taste the food first?" Sanji asked from the kitchen, prepping the last pieces of dessert.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether you deserved to be the first one to taste the food.

Usually you were the last unless you had to taste if it was edible or not.

Everyone looked at you as you scooped a spoonful of one of the dishes, but you paused. The memory of the starving children back in the orphanage flashed in your mind, and you couldn't help but feel that they deserved this meal more than you did.

"It's alright," Sanji's voice said as he was now behind you, his warm hand resting on your shoulder.

It was as if he could read your mind and understand the guilt that was consuming you.

You nodded before placing the spoon inside your mouth and swallowing it. The flavors exploded on your taste buds, a symphony of perfectly balanced spices and textures.

It was a moment of pure bliss, and as you savored each bite, you couldn't help but feel grateful that you were able to experience such a meal after years of deprivation.

The taste of the food was so exquisite that you couldn't help but let out a little dance, your body moving to the rhythm of the flavors. It was as if the nourishment had not only satisfied your hunger but also awakened a dormant joy within you.

As you twirled and swayed, the room erupted in laughter and applause, everyone delighting in your infectious happiness.

"Y/N is doing a happy dance!" Luffy exclaimed, laughing.

The meal had not only filled your stomach but also filled your soul with a newfound appreciation for the simple joys of life.

With the biggest smile on your face, you turned to Sanji, gratitude shining in your eyes, and whispered, "Thank you, Sanji. This meal is beyond anything I could have imagined."

Sanji's cheeks went from a light tint of pink to his whole face being red, dropping his cigarette in the process. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and happiness at seeing you enjoy his food so much.

It was moments like these that reminded him why he loved cooking and why he put so much passion into every dish.

"I'm glad that you like it Y/N-san," Sanji answered, his eyes filled with pure love. Shyly, he added, "I put my heart and soul into creating this meal, and seeing you enjoy it brings me immeasurable joy."

You smiled in return, completely unaware of the effect you had on Sanji. The genuine happiness that radiated from you was enough to make his heart skip a beat, and he couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of purpose in his culinary endeavors.

Though it didn't go unnoticed.

"Looks like Love Cook can get shy around women," Zoro teased.

Sanji's face turned even redder as Zoro's teasing words reached his ears.

"Shut up, Mosshead!" Sanji fired back, trying to hide his embarrassment. But deep down, he couldn't deny that there was some truth to Zoro's words.

Your presence had ignited a spark within him, and he couldn't wait to continue creating culinary masterpieces that would bring joy to your heart. . . .

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆

Continue?

[opencommunion]

Hi opencommunion - you are one of my favourite Tumblrs and I love hearing about Lebanese history from you. You say you are antiPhoenicianist - I hope you would tell us more about it. Hope you're having a great day.

aww thanks, I love your blog too <3

Phoenicianism is a Lebanese ethnonationalist ideology that basically argues that Lebanese people are ethnically/culturally unrelated to (and, implicitly or explicitly, superior to) not only other Arabs but other Levantine peoples. It's a secular ideology but it's extremely Islamophobic, so it posits that Lebanese Christians (especially Maronites) are the "purest" Lebanese people with a direct line of descent from the Phoenicians, who are portrayed as an almost supernaturally heroic and advanced culture who were supplanted by savage Arabs from the south (you probably recognize this as a Zionist talking point; more on that later). It's a narrative of Lebanese history that originates from rich European-educated Lebanese and their French & English orientalist buddies, and it bears all the hallmarks of European ethnonationalism and scientific racism. In my experience ascribing to Phoenicianism is associated with class and it doesn't represent the majority of Lebanese Maronites, who do consider ourselves Arabs. My family are dyed-in-the-wool Maronites from Wadi Qadisha, the cradle of Maronite culture, and for as far back as our family histories go we've always described ourselves as Arabs, with religion being the only difference—and an unimportant difference—between us and our Druze and Muslim neighbors. Phoenicianism predates the Zionist occupation but it started to take shape around the same time as Zionism, and is based in the same core orientalist myth: that the ancient Levant was populated by strictly separate and homogenous ethnocultures with exclusive claim over portions of the land, which were later supplanted by Arab Muslim invaders who oppressed a tiny remaining local population. (In reality, of course, SWANA cultures have always been internally diverse and mutually influential, and "Arabization" in the Levant was characterized by organic cultural shifts among local populations, with Arab culture influencing and combining with local cultures rather than replacing them). So when the Zionist settler project arrived they found easy allies in Phoenicianism. This relationship eventually culminated with the settler state backing the fascist Lebanese Phalanges Party (Kataeb in Arabic, a direct translation of Falange, the Spanish fascist party that inspired its founders) in the Lebanese Civil War. Israel used the Phalanges as a proxy to fight the Palestinian resistance in Lebanon, and it was Phalangists who collaborated with IOF to carry out the Sabra and Shatila massacres. This is the cruelest and ugliest moment in Lebanon's history and Phoenicianism enabled it; Phoenicianism enabled the cognitive dissonance necessary for Lebanese to participate in the occupation's genocide against our siblings and act as footsoldiers for the European fascist agenda in our region. The Phalangists and Zionists lost the war but there is still a Phalangist presence in the Lebanese government, and Phoenicianism is unfortunately alive and well among the Lebanese right wing at home and in the diaspora

[toshidou]

i sent this to cas but had to share it with the class <33

könig/ghost x afab!reader

tags // NSFW 18+, this was written with both of our favourite masked men in mind, so pick whoever you want, pussy eating, overstimulation, somnophilia, first time munchers könig and ghost <3

now, bear with me here. what if, because of the respective masks, they had never had the opportunity to eat someone out, preferring to stick to impersonal one off encounters that involve as little clothing removed as possible. until you.

when they finally get to a point where they feel comfortable enough to reveal themselves, to show you the barest bones of themselves, do they realise the new opportunity presented to them in the form of your spread legs.

it would start off hesitant, unsure, a little anxious to be so exposed along with the pressure of making you feel good despite being in completely unfamiliar territory. and yet, as soon as their lips make contact with your cunt, it's game over. frenzied is the only word that comes close to summarising it, devouring you like a man starved, as though the apex of your thighs were an oasis amidst a barren desert. he doesn't even notice the first time you cum against his tongue, nor the second.

It's only when he feels your thighs go limp around his head does he finally resurface for air, only to realise you've passed out, overstimulation leaving your unconscious body twitching. and he knows he should stop, should check on you, but your glistening cunt steals his attention away, and just like that, he’s sucking your clit into his mouth. Hours would pass by, brief moments of lucidity pulling you back to the surface to babble garbled words into your hand before you're out once again, left at the whim of the man between your legs.

[nu1lst4rs]

doodled human designs for nightmares gang!

click for better quality

ggrahhb. i love them. will draw individual refs soon. promise. cross has jumped between nightmares gang and star sanses, and therefore is considered a neutral outcode in our au. so ill draw him later.

horror fws the trans community

Star sanses, neutral aus (p1), neutral aus (p2), extras

some headcanons under cut 3_^

warning there is alot of text

> nightmare (they/it)

DESI NIGHTMARE!!!! (this is blatant self projection.)

short. but they always manipulate their height when they're outside of their gang because they hate being short.

chubby because its ass is not used to actual food, and they have a really slow metabolism when it isnt negativity. and now that horrors "forcing" it to eat, they gain weight. fast.

intersex. not sure why i think this but they don't really have a sex, so. erm.

^ adding onto that their fluid in their expression. sometimes masc, sometimes fem, sometimes andro.

has those stupid ass hair curlers and uses leftovers for their tentacles

MATCHING NECKLACES WITH MY OTP AT THE CURRENT MOMENT. usually errormare or bsp. sometimes fluffynight. killermare if nihira is fronting.

also sugar daddy nightmare. its either rich as fuck or have no money at all. (this is kindve a crack hc)

> Dust (he/they)

leaning korean and thai mix for him. because i need to see more mixed characters.

wears pjs whenever he can. gets the most fucking stupid pj pants too. like hello kitty. comfort > style.

always dusty. mostly because he doesn't shower and smells like ASS, but also because they gotta live up to their name somehow.

TRANS MASC. dont care if you say its wrong. EVERYONE IS TRANS. (excluding horror and blue. allies!)

aroace spec 100%. most sanses are, but him in particular. would rather die than do any of the sappy bs. but wouldd love to have a partner. or maybe 3. wink wink.

"2 shorter than killer but gaslights killer into thinking he's taller

doesn't wear papyrus' scarf, but keeps it in his sleeve.

> Horror (he/him)

wanna hc him as native american. but i haven't exactly thought much about what in particular.

tall and bulky. after a lonnggg famine, horror developed an ED. where they stress eat until he's physically ill, or feeling less stressed.

doesn't need the bandages on his face, bur keeps them there because he hates the scar

little big bottom teeth. its something he developed due to the food conditions in HT snowdin.

as much as it happens, horror HATES having blood on him, so he wears an apron underneath his clothes and does the laundry often.

PROSTHETIC LEG!!!! it got stuck in a bear trap when he was in his old au, and alphys didnt really know what else to do. its not the best thing, but its reliable. killer likes to put stickers on it.

has a cleaver named maxine, and an axe called rex.

ace because i dont really think. yeah. gross. ew. intimacy.

> killer (he/they/it)

arabic. its almost canon at this point.

has a selection of knifes in his thigh thing if his magic backfires on them. favourite is its butterfly knife.

is legally blind. his ass CANNOT see. refuses to admit this.

acespec because like look at me. he can barely feel. i just think he'd love the idea of being in a relationship, and desperately want one. but know he cant be in one.

scars galore holy shit. is always somehow simultaneously sloppy and precise with his knifework. him and nightmare have a small rivalry to see who can get the most.

needs to have textures on his clothes. something to ground themself. like "oh shit we're dissociating." rubs pants aggressively. works for us.

transb... transverse...

also DID but this is hinted at in canon

HUh. okay wow that was alot. cres shut up about utmv for 5 seconds (IMPOSSIBLE) (I DIED AFTER 1 SECOND). anyways THANK YOU!!! i will post and draw stars and neutrals tomorrow maybe. just after some sleep because it is 2am. bye everyone 3.<

[sebscore]

DRIVER X TGD HEADCANONS | LANDO VER.

pairing: lando norris x driver!reader

author’s note: the next part of the headcanons series !! 🧡 this time our british rumplestiltskin is up! :) hope you enjoy it!

headcanons masterlist

• • • • • •

:: They met when they were 8-9 years-old at a karting competition.

:: Lando spilled his caprisun on her and she was very angry at him, cause she was wearing her favourite shirt.

:: Lando’s mom gave her on of his spare shirts which she still has until this day (no, it doesn’t fit anymore).

:: They weren’t immediate best friends, but would talk to each other quite often.

:: They live in the same apartment complex in Monaco, but they almost never run into each other.

:: Sometimes when one of them has cooked, they text the other one asking if they would like some of it.

:: Often the answer is yes and they go to the chef of the day’s apartment.

:: Their love language is roasting one another.

:: Whenever they’re asked about who their best friend is on the grid, they answer each other.

:: She is the most featured person on his jpg account aka his fan-account for her despite claiming it isn’t.

:: They bully George together.

:: Friends who bully together, stay together <3

:: They have drunkenly promised each other that if they’re both not married by the age of 40 that they’ll marry each other.

:: They’re both pretending they don’t remember that.

:: Max (Fewtrell) does and he’s waiting for the right opportunity to tell them.

:: Lewis thinks they’re more than friends, but is like Sebastian and doesn’t mention it- he just sits back and observes.

:: She was taller than him at one point in their lives and she’s never going to let him forget that.

:: Y/N is Lando’s hypewoman whenever he is dj’ing.

:: He was one of the first people to hug her when she got her first win in F1 :)

:: Sometimes they are referred to as ‘the twins’ by the other drivers, because of how inseparable they are.

:: dumb and dumber duo

:: aka Daniel’s kids.

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