#i need a day where I can do nothing completely guilt free and maybe that would help

[durchdenspiegel]

03.02.2025

Last week of classes, exams on the horizon. At the moment I‘m completely overwhelmed with studying and I have papers to write as well (haven’t even started). Don’t really know how to deal with this stress so I just get nothing done… ☕️

[buttercandy16]

Hollow Flames

PAIRING(s): Rio Vidal x Reader

SUMMARY: Loving Rio Vidal means enduring the fire—but how much can a heart take before it burns away completely?

WARNING(s): Heavy Angst, Manipulation, and other Dark Themes.

A/N: I need to post this so bad before continuing "Asylum".

The sky was gray the day you decided to leave.

Not the kind of ominous storm gray that brings thunder and lightning, just a dull, heavy shade, weighted with the knowledge that nothing good was coming. Nothing could ever be good where Rio Vidal was concerned. You learned that the hard way—bit by agonizing bit.

You stood by the window of your shared apartment, watching distant shapes move outside. The world was bustling, alive—unlike the air inside. It had been suffocating for a while now, a thick fog of tension and sharp-edged words that lingered in every corner of your small home. And yet, she was still your sun. Blinding, scorching, and too painful to look at directly.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Her voice cut through the silence like a blade. Low, almost a growl, just like always—Rio didn’t speak softly even when she wanted to. Her words carried weight and warning. They always had.

You didn’t turn. You couldn’t look at her, not yet. “And what is it you think I’m thinking, Rio?”

She snorted, a bitter, humorless sound. “You’re running again. That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?”

“Run?” The word lodged in your throat like glass, and before you knew it, you’d spun around, your glare meeting hers. She was there on the edge of the couch, leaning back like she owned not only the room but the world itself. Her dark curls fell carelessly around her face, a cruel contrast to the sharpness in her gaze. The look that used to set your heart on fire now left nothing but ash.

“I stayed,” you spat, voice trembling. “I stayed, Rio, while you tore everything apart. I stayed through your moods, your lies, your games. And now I’m running?”

Something flickered in her eyes—a flash of guilt maybe—but it burned out as quickly as it appeared, swallowed by the inferno of her pride. She stood slowly, with that predator-like grace that once made you feel so safe.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she crossed the distance between you until she was so close you could smell her—smoke, whiskey, and faint perfume that clung to her like a memory. Her hands found your arms, gripping just enough for you to feel the strength she so carefully controlled.

“Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of it.” Her voice was quiet now, almost tender, but it carried poison underneath. “You loved the chaos. You loved me. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

“I did love you.” The confession slipped out so quietly it made you wince. “I loved you so much it destroyed me.”

That hit her harder than anything else ever could. Rio’s grip slackened, her eyes softening with something undefinable—regret, maybe, or pain. You never knew with her. Emotions crossed her face like shadows; they came and went too quickly to catch.

“You don’t walk out on someone you love,” she said finally, voice raw. “Not ever. Love isn’t supposed to be—”

“This isn’t love, Rio!”

Your voice shattered the silence, loud enough to make her flinch. Tears welled in your eyes, unbidden and unwanted. You hated crying in front of her; you hated giving her the satisfaction of seeing you this broken. But it was too late to stop now.

“It’s not love if you have to destroy me just to keep me,” you whispered. “I was good for you—I tried to be everything you needed. I gave you everything I had, and you—you left nothing of me behind.”

The silence after your words stretched between you like a chasm, deep and endless. Rio just stared at you, her expression unreadable for the first time in a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

“So, what? You’re done?”

A painful, empty laugh broke free from your chest. “I’ve been done for a long time, Rio. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

She took a step back then, dropping her hands away like your skin burned her. You saw something unfamiliar flicker across her face this time—something closer to panic—but you didn’t stay to watch it unfold.

You turned before she could stop you and moved toward the door, every step feeling heavier than the last. For a moment, you thought she’d let you go, thought you’d walk out of that apartment with nothing more than your memories weighing you down.

But you should have known better.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me.”

Her voice came low and cold, freezing you in place. When you turned around, she was closer than before, breathing hard like she’d been the one running all this time.

“Don’t do this,” Rio muttered, and this time, there was no mistaking the desperation in her tone. “You leave now, you don’t come back. You hear me? You don’t come back.”

And yet, even as she said the words, it was clear she was begging you to stay.

You looked at her—really looked at her—and for the first time, all you saw was a woman trapped in her own brokenness, clawing at everything she loved until it turned to dust in her hands. You wanted to save her; maybe you always would. But saving her meant losing yourself, and you couldn’t afford to make that sacrifice again.

So, you turned away.

Without another word, you opened the door, stepped out into the hallway, and didn’t look back.

But even as you walked away, the ghost of Rio’s voice followed you, echoing like a curse—soft and dangerous all at once.

“You don’t come back. But you’ll wish you had.”

And God, a part of you already did.

The apartment door slammed behind you, the sound reverberating like a gunshot in your chest. You didn’t turn back—you couldn’t. But as you stepped onto the street, the weight of Rio’s voice lingered like smoke, curling into every shadow of your mind.

You don’t come back. But you’ll wish you had.

Days passed in a blur. You went back to somewhere—anywhere—that felt like safety, somewhere Rio’s shadows couldn’t reach. Friends welcomed you, but their pity was obvious. They didn’t say it, but they didn’t have to: You let it go too far. You let her ruin you.

But how could they understand? Rio wasn’t just a chapter you could close. She wasn’t a cut that would scar over and heal. She was the kind of wound that bled you dry. A part of you wanted to hate her, and yet the longing ached far worse than anything else.

At night, when sleep refused to come, you’d lie still, remembering every look, every word, every touch. Love shouldn’t feel like drowning, but she made you want to stay under the water.

And then she found you.

It was two weeks after you’d left. Two short weeks of rebuilding yourself piece by fragile piece before the foundation cracked again.

You were walking back to your friend’s apartment late one evening when you felt it—eyes watching you from the shadows. You didn’t need to see her to know it was her. Your body recognized her presence like it was burned into you.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

Her voice was calm, too calm, but there was an edge beneath it, sharp and dangerous. When you turned, Rio was leaning against the streetlight just behind you, half her face shadowed. She looked the same, as untouchably beautiful as ever—except her eyes burned with something darker.

Your heart leapt into your throat. “Rio—what are you doing here?”

“I told you, didn’t I?” she said, her voice low as she pushed off the streetlight and stepped toward you. “You don’t come back. But you still belong to me.”

“You don’t own me,” you shot back, fists trembling at your sides. But your voice wavered, and you knew she could hear it.

Rio smiled at that. A cruel, knowing smile. “Then why are you shaking?”

She wasn’t here to hurt you. Not really. But Rio had her ways of making you question everything you knew. Every time you thought you’d pulled yourself free of her grip, she was there, whispering promises that sounded like threats and threats that sounded like love.

“I let you leave,” Rio murmured as she brushed a strand of hair from your face. “But don’t think for one second that I don’t still own a part of you. You gave that to me, remember?”

Your breath hitched, a tremor running through you at her touch. “You need to let me go.”

Her hand stilled, fingers lingering at your jaw. For the first time, there was something unreadable in her eyes—a glimmer of vulnerability.

“You want me to let you go?” she whispered. “Fine. Tell me you don’t love me anymore. Look me in the eyes and say it.”

The words were there, on the tip of your tongue, but they refused to come. Because as much as you wanted to let Rio go—as much as you needed to—you still loved her. And you hated yourself for it.

She saw your hesitation and smiled softly, a victorious and heartbroken look all at once.

“That’s what I thought,” she whispered.

The days after that became a slow, suffocating push-and-pull. Rio didn’t take you back to the life you once shared—not yet—but she lingered at the edges of your world, close enough to remind you she could pull you back in anytime she wanted.

You should have blocked her, disappeared completely. But a part of you missed her—the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way her chaos made you forget everything else.

“You keep running,” she said the last time you saw her, eyes burning into yours. “But you’ll come back. You always do.”

You didn’t answer her.

But as you watched her disappear into the night again, you knew deep down she was right. No matter how far you ran, you’d never be free of her.

The days turned into weeks, weeks into months, but Rio’s presence never truly left you. She was a shadow lingering in the corners of your mind, a scent caught unexpectedly in passing—a phantom that refused to let go. You tried to rebuild your life, stitching yourself back together in a way that felt somewhat whole. You smiled again. You laughed. But under it all, her ghost haunted you.

It was a late winter evening when she came back—this time, not waiting for you to stumble into her world.

You returned home, to your quiet apartment, only to find her already inside. She was sitting on the windowsill, silhouetted against the cold glow of city lights. Like always, Rio looked like she belonged there—dangerous, beautiful, untouchable.

Your heart stopped. “How did you—?”

She turned, a sly smile curling at the edge of her lips, like she’d never been gone. “It’s me, baby. Locks never stopped me before, did they?”

The anger you thought had burned out reignited, a desperate flame. “You can’t keep doing this, Rio! You can’t—”

“Can’t what?” she interrupted sharply, standing now, closing the space between you in only a few strides. “Keep wanting you? Keep loving you? Because if you think I’m capable of stopping... you’re lying to yourself.”

Her words made your chest ache. “This isn’t love, Rio. It’s obsession.”

She paused at that, jaw tight, eyes flickering with something deeper—an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“Maybe,” she said softly, her voice dropping low. “Maybe it is. But don’t you get it yet? You did this to me. You made me want you in a way I can’t turn off.”

Her hands found your face, cradling it with a gentleness you didn’t expect—but her grip was firm, inescapable. You tried to push her away, but your body betrayed you, still remembering how her touch could soothe even while it burned.

“Let me go,” you whispered, though the words lacked strength.

She shook her head slowly, her dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs.

“I can’t,” she whispered back. “You belong to me. And maybe that’s selfish, maybe it’s twisted... but tell me you don’t still feel it too.”

Her words carved through you like a knife because part of you did still feel it—that magnetic pull that had drawn you to her in the first place. It was intoxicating, ruinous, and completely impossible to ignore.

And Rio could see it—the truth you couldn’t speak.

Her lips brushed against your forehead as she murmured, “You’re mine. You always will be.”

And for the first time, you didn’t fight her. The tragedy wasn’t that you were trapped—it was that you never really wanted to escape.

Rio’s confession—you’re mine, you always will be—lodged itself in your chest like a splinter. For a moment, the air was too thick to breathe, your own heart betraying you as it hammered loudly in your ears. You hated her for saying it, and you hated yourself more for how much you wanted to believe her.

Her hands trailed down to your shoulders, holding you steady in that calm but possessive way she always did. “There’s no one else who understands you like I do,” she murmured. “No one else will ever want you the way I want you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as if that might block out the truth. “This isn’t right,” you breathed, more to yourself than her.

Rio let out a soft, knowing hum. “No?” Her voice was low, teasing, like she was unraveling you thread by thread. “You can keep saying that, but it doesn’t make it true. You’re just scared.”

And you were scared—terrified, even. Of her, of yourself, of the way her presence was starting to feel like home again. She saw through you too easily. Rio always knew which wounds to touch, which words to say, like your soul was just another lock for her to pick.

“I came back tonight because I’m done playing these games,” Rio said suddenly, stepping back. Her gaze was locked onto yours, still burning with that quiet intensity. “No more running, no more pretending. You and I both know you don’t want me to leave.”

“Rio…” Your voice broke around her name.

“No.” She cut you off sharply, shaking her head. “You don’t get to push me away and keep hoping I’ll come back. I’m here now. You’re here. So tell me the truth, baby. What’s it gonna be?”

You didn’t answer, because you didn’t know how. Because every time you thought you’d freed yourself, she pulled you back in—and you let her. Whether it was because of love, obsession, or simply the emptiness she filled, you couldn’t tell anymore.

Rio sighed then, though there was something softer to it this time. Like she could see just how torn you were. “It’s okay,” she whispered, brushing her knuckles gently across your cheek. “I already know your answer. You don’t have to say anything.”

Her touch lingered longer than it should’ve, but you didn’t move to stop her. Instead, you stood frozen, your body betraying you all over again. Because she was right—there was a part of you that wanted her to stay, to piece you back together even if she’d been the one to tear you apart.

And Rio, the master of reading you, smiled softly at your silence.

“Good,” she said, as if this had already been settled. “Now stop pretending, baby. You and I—we’re not done yet. We’ll never be done.”

Her words wrapped around you like a noose, suffocating and warm all at once. You knew it was a warning just as much as a promise. And as she pulled you into her arms—kissing you softly, possessively, like she was sealing your fate—you felt the last threads of resistance slip through your fingers.

Because when it came to Rio Vidal, escape had never really been an option.

Aftermath: Fractured Chains

The days following Rio’s return were as volatile as they were intoxicating. You tried convincing yourself it was different this time—that she was different. That her words, her touch, her promises weren’t laced with the same obsession that had swallowed you before.

For a while, it worked.

Rio was gentler—softer, even. She smiled more, her rough edges smoothing just enough to keep you under her spell. The chaos in her voice became less biting, her anger less frequent, as if she was trying to convince both of you that she could change. That the fire within her could ever be anything but destructive.

“I told you I’d take care of you,” she whispered one night, her head resting against your lap, eyes half-lidded as you played absentmindedly with her hair. “And I meant it. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

You wanted to believe her so desperately that it hurt. And for a brief, fleeting moment, you thought you could.

But shadows like Rio’s don’t disappear—they just learn to hide.

One evening, you overheard the call.

The unmistakable sound of Rio’s voice, low and furious, echoed through the walls of your apartment. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but something in her tone set your teeth on edge. You stepped closer, pausing just outside the door.

“I don’t give a damn what they think!” she snapped, her voice sharp as glass. A silence followed before she spoke again—softer, yet far colder. “She’s mine. That’s all you need to know. No one’s taking her away from me.”

Your blood ran cold. The words shouldn’t have surprised you, and yet they still knocked the air from your chest. After all this time—after all the whispered assurances that she was changing—Rio was still the same. The obsession still simmered just beneath the surface, waiting to erupt.

You backed away from the door as quietly as you could, trying to collect your thoughts, your pulse thrumming wildly in your ears. Was this your life now? Had you truly let yourself fall so far back into her arms that you couldn’t escape again?

You’d wanted to fix her once. You’d told yourself that maybe your love—your devotion—could soften her edges and heal her wounds. But the truth settled in your chest like lead. Rio Vidal didn’t change. She adapted, she manipulated, she controlled.

And you? You were still caught in her web.

That night, Rio curled up beside you in bed, her arm draped protectively over your waist. She buried her face into your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses into your skin as if to stake her claim.

“Where were you tonight?” she murmured, her voice low and affectionate in a way that made your stomach churn. “You seemed distant.”

You forced yourself to sound calm. “I was just… tired.”

She pulled back slightly, her dark eyes studying you for a moment—too sharp, too calculating. It was as though she could see straight through the lie. But instead of pressing further, she smiled softly.

“Don’t overthink things, baby.” Her lips brushed against your temple. “I’ve got you. You don’t need to worry about anything anymore. Just trust me.”

But trust was the last thing you felt.

The days became heavier after that. You couldn’t look at her the same way. Everything—the touches, the kisses, her promises—felt like chains tightening around you.

And Rio noticed. She always noticed.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked one evening, slamming a glass onto the kitchen counter when your silence stretched on too long. “You’ve been pulling away.”

You flinched at the sharpness in her tone, carefully keeping your expression neutral. “I just… I need space, Rio.”

Her laughter came bitter and harsh, a sharp contrast to her earlier softness. “Space? Don’t give me that.” She stalked toward you, her presence overwhelming as she leaned in close. “You’re mine, remember? There’s no space between us. There never was.”

Her words made something in you snap.

“No, Rio!” you shouted back, stepping out of her reach. “I’m not yours. I can’t keep pretending this is love when it’s tearing me apart.”

For the first time, Rio froze. Her dark eyes widened, and in the silence that followed, the tension between you cracked like thunder.

Her lips parted, as if to say something, but no words came. For a second, she looked lost, like a flame starved of air.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered finally, her voice fragile—like it hadn’t been her hands that broke you in the first place. “Tell me you don’t mean that.”

But you held your ground, even as tears blurred your vision. “I can’t do this anymore, Rio.”

She stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign of surrender. Finding none, the softness in her expression hardened once more, like armor slipping back into place.

“Fine,” she said coldly, though her voice shook. “Leave, then. Run, like you always do. But don’t you forget—I gave you everything. I loved you more than anyone ever could.”

She turned sharply, storming into the other room without another word, leaving you standing there, shaking and broken.

And in that moment, you knew this was the beginning of the end.

Rio’s love burned everything it touched—but this time, you wouldn’t let her flames consume you.

Not again.

The silence that followed Rio’s storm was unbearable. You stood in that empty kitchen, the weight of her final words hanging in the air like smoke. I loved you more than anyone ever could. But love, you realized, shouldn’t feel like suffocation.

That night, you didn’t sleep. Every creak of the apartment made you wonder if Rio would burst back into the room, filled with apologies or anger—or something darker. But she didn’t. The apartment felt cold without her presence, and yet the absence felt like the first breath of clean air you’d had in months.

By sunrise, you knew you couldn’t stay. You gathered what little you had and slipped out quietly, without a note, without a goodbye.

Days passed. You found sanctuary miles away, in a small, forgettable town where Rio’s shadow couldn’t reach you—at least not immediately. But her voice echoed in your mind, reminders of all the promises, the threats, the way she knew how to make you feel like you needed her as much as she needed you.

You began to rebuild yourself slowly, piece by fragile piece. Life returned in small, painful doses—a sunrise that made you feel hopeful, the laughter of strangers in a café that reminded you of what freedom once tasted like. It hurt, at first. Healing always does.

But you were getting better. Stronger. For once, you felt like yourself.

And then Rio found you.

It wasn’t a knock at your door or her waiting in the shadows. No, it started with a letter—a single envelope slipped under the door to your rented room.

You stared at it for an eternity before picking it up. There was no address. Only your name, scrawled in familiar, looping handwriting.

Rio’s handwriting.

Your hands trembled as you opened it, finding only a small note inside:

“You really thought I’d let you go? I’m always watching. You’re still mine.”

Your heart froze.

From that moment on, the paranoia crept back in, like poison flooding your veins. Every time a stranger glanced your way, you wondered if Rio had sent them. Every shadow felt heavier, every closed door no longer safe. She wasn’t here, not yet, but her presence had wormed its way into your world once again.

You thought about leaving—running again, maybe somewhere farther, somewhere Rio could never trace. But deep down, you knew the truth. You could run to the ends of the earth, and Rio Vidal would always find you.

The final time came two months later, on a night not unlike the others. You were walking back to your place after a long shift, the streets empty and drenched in quiet. It wasn’t until you reached the building’s entrance that you saw her.

Rio leaned against the railing by the stairs, shrouded in her usual dark coat. Her hair fell over her face slightly, but even in the dim glow of the streetlight, you could see it—the look. The look that pinned you in place like prey, like she already knew you wouldn’t fight.

You froze. “Rio...”

She pushed off the railing, slowly stepping closer, and as she did, her calm facade melted into something haunted—something almost tender.

“I tried to give you time,” she murmured softly, voice barely audible. “Tried to let you go. But you knew it wouldn’t last, didn’t you?”

“You don’t own me,” you whispered back, though your voice cracked.

She stopped just in front of you, her dark eyes studying your face with something unreadable—a mixture of obsession and sadness. “No,” she said quietly. “I don’t. You’re not mine because I own you. You’re mine because you’re the only thing that makes me feel alive.”

For the briefest of moments, you saw something raw—something broken—beneath her bravado.

“I can’t fix you, Rio,” you replied, tears stinging your eyes. “I can’t be what you need.”

She gave you a small, heartbreaking smile. “You don’t have to fix me.”

Rio stepped forward, pressing her forehead to yours with a gentleness that broke you apart inside.

“But if I can’t have you,” she murmured, her breath warm against your face, “then no one can.”

Your heart stopped. “Rio—”

It happened fast—faster than you could react. You felt her hands slip around you, holding you too tightly, her voice murmuring softly as you fought to break free.

“No more running. I’m keeping you, one way or another.”

In the distance, you thought you heard the faint echoes of sirens—the ones that you’d called for, just in case. But it didn’t matter anymore. Rio’s world had consumed you completely.

And as you sank into the dark, the last thing you felt was Rio’s lips pressing softly against your temple, her voice like a whisper of a prayer.

“You’ll always be mine.”

_-_-_

Please don't forget to vote, reblog, and comment. Thank you! 💚

[dangerous-yam-fries]

Not too sure if your taking requests but can I request a part 2 of yandere alien? but the reader is just completely numb after the whole sex scene and she just stop showing emotions, she stops talking and her eyes are just empty but whenever she looks at Zuri her eyes shine bright with anger and murderous intent even the rest of the crew see's it

Despite this Zuri tries everything in his power to get a reaction out of her but he always turns up empty handed even when he try to do the boombahya with her he still gets nothing she doesn't even moan

And after a few days she just randomly disappeared he searched the entire ship top to bottom but he couldn't find her minutes turned into hours, hours turn into days, days turn into months and months turned into years

His crew was hired to get some goods by some great empire it here that he found her one problem she is the emperor's mate she already has multiple kids with the emperor and another on the way

Anyways reader see him again and decided she is gonna ruin his life in which she did and then her mate had him executed slowly so he felt everything....

Anyways I hope you like it 😀

Part ones ending didn't scratch me right 😅

Wow I love that concept, and great suggestion at the end, but I’m not going to kill my favorite red flag. You can have some of it though.

Alien Guy x GN!reader - mild NSFW ask

Asks and Suggestions are open and encouraged!

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, confinement, general creepiness, alien, MINORS I DO NOT WANT YOU HERE SO HIT THE ROAD

You didn’t talk much back on Argon, the scientists spoke their scientific jargon, the cleaners were just as prudish, and the experiments… couldn’t talk. So you were in the habit of staying quiet as well. This continued when Captain Zuri brought you to Seed, you’d go days without speaking, and living by the mantra of ‘only speak when spoken to’.

Needless to say, Zuri wasn’t concerned when you didn’t say anything to him the morning after. That’s just what you were like. Even when you went back to avoiding him, he didn’t think twice. When you started skipping meals however, then he had a problem.

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, the impossible blue making you feel something dark and self-destructive. He forces you to look at him, and you can’t help the look of disgust on your face. Zuri declared you as his lover and mate, and that if you won’t take care of yourself, he’ll make sure to take care of you.

Before, living with the aftermath of being raped was manageable. But now you sleep in his bed, eat with him, and you’re not even allowed to shower alone.

Oh, and sharing a bed with him means sex. You couldn’t help but react your first time, but now it’s almost like your body won’t let you feel it. You want to feel good, maybe that will take your dark feelings away, banish your pain, and set you free. It doesn’t hurt anymore, at least. Zuri keeps you loose, it doesn’t matter when or where the feeling hits him, you’re always ready to take him.

Zuri’s just contented with having you. In the beginning, he was fairly worried about how you felt, but it was clear that you wouldn’t change anytime soon, so why worry about that? Or maybe he was just forcing himself not to care, because you were in pain because of him.

Maybe out of guilt, he gives you more alone time, and doesn’t make you do chores. The only rules are to be in his room by curfew, and don’t go whoring yourself out. The gift is wasted on you though, because you don’t leave his room, even when you’re allowed.

You have no friends on the outside, and your old room has been given to someone else. There’s no privacy out there, but Zuri’s gone most of the day, so you can just lounge in any of the spacious areas of his cabin. Usually a storage closet or behind furniture.

It’s almost like you’re a feral animal, Zuri or his secretary will leave a tray out for you, because you’ll only eat when you’re alone. You make sure to take care of all your needs before Zuri returns to his cabin in the evenings, as you try your best to avoid him. You know he knows exactly where you are, but he doesn’t seek you out unless it’s for something physical.

You’ll stare into space without a thought in your mind, but when Zuri enters your sights, it’s like a switch is flipped.

You’ve been treated badly, horribly by many people. But none of them were as persistent as him. You want to kill Zuri, make him suffer, even if it means dying yourself.

Zuri notices the darkness in your eyes, you used to be a fairly simple person, aimless, floating through space. Now you have something more grounding, a tether to one place; Zuri. You may not love him, but you won’t leave his side until he’s dead.

[pluto-supremacy]

Will there be a part three of the Vi dating femreader at Stillwater where the Reader gets out of Stillwater and Vi makes it up to the Reader after they reunite? Maybe either the Reader gets out on her own and they reunite in Zaun or Vi comes back to get her out like she promised and they are reunited that way and she makes up for all the lost time since she left her there and promises she will never leave her again, that she loves the Reader with all her mind, body and soul. If Caitlyn is there she apologizes to both Vi and the Reader for separating them once she sees them together and how they are with each other and that she should have fought harder to get the Reader out the first time before Vi and Reader have their life after Stillwater, then maybe a time skip or something where we see Vi and the Reader living together and after Stillwater. That part two was heart-wrenching and would love for Vi to make good on her promise of coming back for the Reader like she said she would, so they can be free and live a better life outside of Stillwater.

Vi Fic: Miss Me?

➼ I'm so glad everyone is liking the Vi series! This will likely be the last part, at least for Stillwater. Maybe I'll have little au's as to how the story ends. Have some fluff to make up for what I put y'all through last time

➼ Continuation of Vi Fic: Bye Bye Bun

➼ This definitely diverges from canon, so please keep that in mind. I didn't have it in me to give an angsty ending (this time). Consider this a little fix-it fic for the end of season 1

➼ No beta we die like some random enforcer (I've officially run out of people season 2 come faster)

➼ Warnings: None!

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

The days started to blur together. Each passing moment seemed more painful than the last. Vi left you. Left you with that enforcer to rot in Stillwater. Sure she promised to come back, and for a while you were hopeful. Vi had no reason to just leave you behind. That didn't make any sense. Even with the warden saying he could ‘only release one’. Bullshit. Vi should’ve fought harder. She could’ve gotten both of you out, you knew that. If this enforcer needed her so bad then she’s have to do what she asked, even against the warden’s wishes.

While it was hard to keep track of time behind bars, you were certain it had been at least a week. Or it at least felt like a week. Around day three you had lost all hope that your girlfriend was coming back for you. What could take her this long? Nothing. Absolutely nothing in your eyes at least. Vi didn’t even offer an explanation, just that she’d be back. Who does that? Certainly there had been enough time for her to at least say something like 'If I don't go they'll kill me'. Was that even what happened? Or was this the out Vi had been looking for? Had she ever even cared..?

Some days you went with no. Others it was yes. No was the more common answer now. Well hopefully that enforcer was happy with what she had done. What relationship she had torn apart. It was just after lunch when you had been returned back to your cell. Lately you haven't had much of an appetite, the prison uniform you wore hanging slightly looser than usual. It was hard to eat when all you could think about was what Vi could be doing. Fighting. Cheating. Running away. Dying. Of course you only imagined the worst. Never that she was currently racing towards Stillwater like a man on a mission.

Which she was.

The last few days had gone by so fast and so slow at the same time for Vi. Each time she closed her eyes she saw you, she saw Powder, she saw the both of you begging her not to leave. It haunted her, plagued her every waking thought. The guilt of leaving you behind was eating her alive. If it wasn't for how many times she had gotten her ass kicked lately she might've had time to really revel in the fact that she may have lost you forever. She would fix this though. Vi knew that she would. Part one of her plan was already complete.

She had Powder back. For the most part.

After the little dinner party ended with Silco dying, Vi pleaded with her younger sister. Pleaded with her to do the right thing for Milo, for Claggor, for Vander, for her. At the last second it seemed like her Jinx persona had began crumbling away. She dropped the weapon she had built and ran to her older sister, crying and hugging her tight. Catilyn, who had been tied up and gagged by a mask, was relieved to say the least.

After untying both of them Powder handed over the gemstone to Caitlyn. She hadn't wanted it anyways, not really. It was Silco who planted the seed in her head to build the weapon. Every now and then Vi could see Jinx trying to peak through, trying to take over Powder. Maybe one day Jinx would finally go away. Maybe she would always be a part of her, whispering in her ear to turn on those she loved. Either way Vi was keeping her close, not wanting to make the same mistake twice. She promised Powder it would be them again, but with just one new addition.

Now Vi, Powder, and Caitlyn were on the boat to Stillwater. Powder had been asking a million different questions about you. There was part of her, the Jinx part, that resented you. Like you took her sister away from her despite the pair of you meeting when Vi had already been in Stillwater for some time. But mostly she was just excited to see whoever made her sister this happy. The instant the boat was docked Vi ran off, clutching the release papers in her right hand. Caitlyn and Powder were right behind her, albeit a bit slower.

Vi slammed the papers down on the warden's desk with a smirk as soon as she made it up to his desk. "Orders from Councilor Talis to release prisoner 381. Immediately." She stated. The warden wasn't exactly pleased with the orders, but begrudgingly agreed. Mostly since he now had no choice with new orders. That and it would be three against one, and Vi had already put up a fight in the past when it was just her. The one with the blue hair also looked unstable, so best not to mess with that.

Confusion overwhelmed you as the doors to your cell opened. The first thought you had was that this was a trap. A guard opened the doors and was waiting for you to try and escape. That's the only thing it could be. At least until you saw pink hair peaking out from around the corner of your wall. "VI!" you yelled, your feet carrying you forward and before you even realized there was a familiar pair of strong arms around you. "I've got you bun, I've got you" she whispered as she pulled you close, hiding her face in your hair. For a while neither of you said a word, falling into a comfortable silence. At some point tears had began falling down your cheeks, you weren't too sure when. Only this time they weren't sad tears. They were tears of relief and happiness. Eventually you broke the silence. "You came back after all."

Those words hit Vi hard. You really didn't think she would keep her word? Though she couldn't find it in herself to blame you for that. After all, she did just up and leave without running you through what was happening. There just wasn't time in the moment. "Of course I did. I promised I'd come back and get you. I'd never lie to you." she whispered, her grip tightening. "I'm back and we're leaving this place for good. We'll never see Stillwater again."

When you finally pulled away you realized that you weren't alone. There was the enforcer from earlier, Catilyn, and..someone with blue hair? "Who is that?" "That's my little sister, Powder. You remember me talking about her right?" you did, Vi talked about her a lot. Though clearly she wasn't eleven anymore. "I do. You found her?" you asked, giving a small smile and wave towards Powder. She returned the gesture, moving to hold her elbows. "Yeah, that was a few years ago" Powder responded rocking slightly on her heels. "Vi told me a lot about you on the boat ride over. I have a lot to catch you up on." "We both do." Vi added on.

Caitlyn cleared her throat to gain everyone's attention before turning to you. "I wanted to apologize for taking Vi away from you. She had important information about something stolen from Piltover. I did try to get you both out, but-" "Caitlyn, right? As long as you didn't kiss Violet I'll say it's fine." that made her laugh a little, shaking her head. "I promise you I didn't. I wanted to say that both of you no longer have a criminal record, it has been wiped clean. And I wanted to give you this," Catilyn handed over a large pouch filled with money. You carefully took it, examining the pouch. It was a considerable sum, likely enough to rent an apartment in Piltover for a few months.

"Please take that as part of my apology. It should help the three of you find a good place to stay and keep food on the table. Whether you want to go back to the Undercity or move on to Piltover." "Thank you." You handed the pouch over to Vi who tucked the pouch into one of the pockets on her jacket. "Come on bun, we're going to find a place for the three of us. No one," she looked between you and Powder "is getting left behind ever again. Come on" she grabbed your hand and Powder's, walking towards the elevator. You followed along, pulling your hand away at the last second.

"Vi?" "Yes?" Vi responded, nervous for what may come next. "I love you." You said, pulling her in for a short, sweet kiss. Vi was quick to return it, pulling you onto the elevator where Powder was waiting.

"I love you too. Now let's go home"

[froggibus]

Not A Single Thing - Megumi Fushiguro

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x reader

Genre: ANGST, some hurt/comfort at the end

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: in your darkest moment, you look to Megumi for help, but all he can do is confirm your deepest fears

CW: mentions of death, mentions of murder (reader puts a civilian in harms way—resulting in their death), extreme guilt, slight suicidal thoughts, very angsty, slight grovelling?

have not read the newest chapters of the manga (oops) but this is essentially spoiler free. mentions of a panel from one of the first chapters in the manga, something I just could not get out of my head today. anyway, here’s some angst/hurt/comfort bcs that’s what I need today <3

————

But who’s to say that someone you save won’t kill someone in the future? 

You look up at Megumi in horror. Bloodstained hands are shaking, eyes are wide in terror. Your navy uniform is darkened by the blood now coating it. The unsteady rise and fall of your chest only gets worse by the minute, and no matter how much he wants to comfort you, all Megumi can do is stare. 

His own words echo in his ears. They weren’t directed at you, they were never directed at you. He wasn’t even thinking of you when he said them. They were directed at Yuji, directed at himself. 

Still, they spin around his head and flood his mind until he feels dizzy. 

Your knees shake until they buckle beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground. Even the sweet burn of the concrete tearing through your skin isn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions surging through you. You shove your face into your hands and shake your head. This isn’t real, this isn’t happening. This…isn’t your fault, right? Right?

It only feels like seconds since the incident, but then Gojo is suddenly there and you know it’s been much, much longer. Your teacher collects you off of the ground, lifting you up like you weigh nothing. Your knees won’t support your own weight, your body is frozen completely. 

As Gojo starts to haul you off, carrying you out of the building, you finally manage to look up. Megumi is standing where he was before, staring at you with wide eyes. You thought his eyes were like an ocean before—vast and deep and never ending. And they still are, but now you’re drowning. 

“M-megs—” you can barely choke out the boy’s name. 

He looks just as dazed as you feel. And though there’s no blood on his hands, the guilt is evident on his face. You hope he says something, anything to make you feel better. 

His voice is impossibly quiet, as if he’s talking more to himself than to you. “Who’s to say that someone you save won’t kill someone in the future?”

You flinch, falling apart at his words. An icy numbness rushes over you, countered only by the feeling of Gojo’s warm hands on your arms. 

—

The next few days are a blur of meetings, mandated therapy and Yuji trying to force you to leave your room. The council had deemed it an accident, a human casualty—they happen all the time, they said. Everyone experiences it. 

Even Gojo, in all of his emotional immaturity, tries to reassure you it wasn’t your fault. He’s lost people on the job too, it’s never easy. But you don’t listen. 

You almost wish they would say it’s your fault, blame you for killing someone. Punish you for your huge fuck up. 

But they didn’t. 

Everyone kept saying the same thing over and over again. It’s not your fault. Well, everyone except for one person. 

Megumi’s words still plague you every waking moment—and nowadays, that’s a lot. Who’s to say someone you save won’t kill someone in the future?

He’d said it quietly, almost like he was just talking to himself. That doesn’t change the meaning, though. It’s loud and clear what he meant by it—he saved your life, and you took someone else’s. And maybe he’s right, maybe things would be better off if he never saved you. 

Images of your first mission together still flash in your mind. You were so scared to be going on a mission, especially with him. He was so grumpy all of the time, so by the book. You weren’t looking forward to it. 

And then you got injured, and instead of finishing off the Grade 1 like he was supposed to, Megumi chose to save you instead. You were shocked to say the least. The Megumi you knew would never have chosen to abandon the mission, especially when it was your mistake that got you injured. 

Still, the boy carried you out of the old abandoned mental hospital and outside of the veil, holding you in his lap while he waited for Ijichi to extract you. You still remember how it felt to lose so much blood. That cold feeling washing over you, the life draining from your body. 

It was that day that you and Megumi became friends. An unlikely pairing, but the unlikeliest pairings made the bestest of friends. 

One bad mission, one bad decision, and all of that went down the drain. 

Megumi has always felt personally responsible for you. He saved your life, he was your partner on missions. He has a connection with you that no one else has, a connection that has always tied him to you. Even now, after not seeing you for days, that connection hasn’t waned. 

He longs to see you. There’s a physical pain in his chest, a withdrawal from your presence. But no matter how badly he wants to see you, he doesn’t know what to say or do. He doesn’t know how to act like that day didn’t happen. 

Like he didn’t say the most fucked up thing he could have said to you. 

He tugs on his hair. He can’t get that look on your face out of his head. You were so sad, so terrified—you were looking to him for support, and he let you down. God, how did he fuck things up so badly? 

—

It’s been almost a week since the incident. With no meetings and no reason to leave, you’ve managed to stay in your room for the past three days. You know you’re falling behind on your training and you expect Gojo to harass you any minute. 

When there’s a knock on your door, you debate not answering it. You know it’s Gojo—and you know he can see through the door if he really wanted to. There’s another knock and you groan, tossing your comforter to the side and trudging your way across the room. 

You swing the door open, ready to tell the teacher to shove it. But instead of white hair and a blindfold, you’re met with dishevelled dark hair and ocean eyes. 

All of your words die in your throat and you’re suddenly hyper aware that you’ve been wearing the same clothes for two days. The sight of him makes you feel like you can hear his words all over again. 

“Fushiguro?”

He cringes at the use of his last name. He’s always been Megumi, or Megs to you. And even though he hates that nickname, when it’s coming from you, he almost likes it. 

“Can I—Can I come in?” He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, his face heating up. This is where he expects you to say no, to slam the door in his face. 

You open the door so that he can walk in, gently closing it behind him. He settles in on your bed, a motion so familiar to him it makes him feel even guiltier. 

You look at him with those sad eyes, rimmed red and outlined by dark bags. “Did you need something?” Your voice is so soft and gentle, no sign of the anger or resentment he expected. 

“No, well, yes, I guess.” He waits until you settle down opposite to him before continuing to speak. “I need to make this right.”

You scrunch up your eyebrows in your confusion, tilting your head at him slightly. He needs to make this right? You’re the one who killed someone in front of him. 

“I just—ugh, you know I’m not good with this stuff.” 

You offer him a weak smile in an attempt at comfort. “Take your time. It’s okay, really.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. You needed me, and I let you down, and I said the most fucked up thing I could’ve said and—I’m just, really sorry.”

His words stun you into silence. He’s sorry? But why would he be? You fucked up, you hurt somebody, you made a mistake that cost everything. Why would he be sorry when everything was your fault?

He sighs. “Please say something.”

“Why are you sorry? I-I killed someone, Megs! You have every right to hate me, fuck, I hate me. You were right. Maybe things would be better if you didn’t save m—”

Megumi shuts you up by tugging you into his chest. He’s never been one for physical contact, never cared much to show his affection that way. But he’s suddenly holding you against his chest, squeezing you so tightly you can only focus on his muscles and the subtle smell of his shampoo. 

He holds you until your breathing is even. He holds you until you forget what you were saying before, until all of the guilt and the blame fade away. 

He pulls away, giving you a serious look. “Don’t you ever say that again. I wouldn’t change a single thing, y/n. Not if it meant losing you. Okay? Please don’t talk like that.”

His words are so tender, so emotional. One of his hands still rests on your hip, tracing circles into your skin. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him. He’s always felt like a part of you, and you didn’t realize how much you missed him until you got him back. 

“You really wouldn’t change anything?” You whisper. 

“Not a single damn thing.”

[sharffffff]

“So Sty, I want you to kill me. Kill the monster, slay the beast.”

Gravel’s voice rang in Sty’s ears, his vision almost blinded by rage, everything painted in different shades of red. Oh, how he wanted to hear those words - but how he hated hearing them, too. Seeing light drain from Gravel’s eyes, seeing blood pour out from numerous wounds left after Sty was done with him - just a day ago, he would’ve jumped on the opportunity, he would’ve followed it through, and even now, his hand instinctively clutched onto the knife’s handle, few quick strikes following through, sliding across Gravel’s armor, leaving red streaks where its blade met his flesh-

But then Sty stopped. Vision no longer clouded in red, instead still and cold and as clear as ever. Gravel didn’t deserve it. And no, it wasn’t some bullshit about “Everyone deserves to live, even people like him!” Oh no, no no no no no, Gravel deserved so much more than just death. Death would be freeing him from shackles of life, freeing him from guilt, freeing him of everything he has ever done, giving him just what he wants. Why would Sty ever do that? Why would Sty ever give him a forgiveness of death? Death would be merciful, death would be peaceful, and Gravel deserved none of that. He deserved so much worse. 

“Kill me! Kill me, Sty!” Gravel’s voice was desperate, as he crept closer to Sty, almost pressing himself against the blade of his knife. He was looking for a coward’s way out, a way to escape everything he’s ever done without paying the price. Death would be a gift, and Sty was not in a gift giving mood. 

“No. You deserve so much worse.” Sty’s unblinking gaze met with Gravel’s, who seemed just so desperate to die it made Sty almost disgusted. If Gravel tried giving him a fight, he maybe would’ve given him the luxury of death, but with this pathetic display? He didn’t deserve it.

“Just kill me, Sty, please!” As Gravel tried pressing himself against Sty’s knife even harder, Sty wiped the blood away from its blade and sheathed it. He wouldn’t want to give Gravel any chances to get safety from what was to come next, and oh lord, Gravel was going to suffer for each moment he made Sty suffer. For each moment he made 4C, Luanne or Katie suffer. For each moment he made Apo suffer. Sty was going to pay it back tenfold for each one of them, of his teammates, and even more after that still. Gravel wasn’t getting out of his revenge unscathed. 

“As much as I want to see the light leave your eyes, I just don’t think that’s what you need. And you need oh so much worse. This is too good for you, death is too good for you.” Oh how much Sty wanted to follow through with what Gravel was asking him for. He had dreamed about doing this, about cutting Gravel into hundreds of little pieces, about slashing his throat as he looked straight into his eyes - but he just couldn’t do it. Not right now. Not while Gravel was at his lowest. 

Sty had to let him wallow in the despair - and then bring him lower still. Show him just how much worse his life can get. And only then, only when Gravel has suffered for every action he has ever done, after he has lost the spark within him, after he has nothing else left to lose, nothing else left to live for, nothing else to call home, nothing to cling on to - only then Sty would allow him the release of death. And it would come as a blessing.

“Enjoy your life, Gravel!” And so he left, leaving Gravel covered in blood in the arena, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to finish what Sty started. Knowing Sty would get the chance to ruin him completely, to bring down every wall around him, to burn his whole world down - and watch the light leave his eyes without ever taking his life. Instead just taking everything that ever could’ve made his life worth living. And oh how he anticipated this revenge to come to the fruition. How excited he was for the coming days.

[alkhale]

So happy you’ve returned thank you for coming back 💜💜💜💜💜💜

So I had a thought with that AU dark!Sabo/Ace fic you have, how would Sabo/Ace react to Law being over at Hoku’s? Like Law’s hanging out or slept over and answers Hoku’s phone for her and Sabo/Ace basically have aneurysms 😂

Basically I’m in a Law era and seeing him with Hoku is always a treat 💜

(Locked Here for Forever AU - Hoku is still currently doing the work for Sabo and Ace)

Minor Warning: Depictions of Dark!Sabo, nothing too serious, just in case you don't want to see Sabs acting... dark ;)

Sabo's gloved knuckles rasped softly against Hoku's apartment door.

The faint sound of other tenants arriving home for the night filled the air. In the distance he could absently make out the sounds of a few cars passing the neighborhood street, the too-loud laugh of a few teenagers walking past.

Sabo took a polite step back from the front door, keeping one arm folded across his chest. A hefty, sleek paper bag hung from the crook of his elbow—carefully picked take-out orders, a thoughtful range of dishes that would be easy to eat while making conversation while still meeting Sabo's own preferences for someone's nutritional intake.

Quietly, with perfect clarity, he considered the image of Hoku in his mind. His eyes traced in place of hands the shape of her curves, the brightness of her skin, the slight press of her thighs against a seat.

"You should eat more," Ace had said, watching Hoku over the tabletop of their last meal. Sabo had remembered needing to touch his shoulder, a faint warning to check his gaze. "You look skinnier."

(Ace's gaze always tended to swallow too much. He was louder about his hunger.)

"You aren't having trouble getting meals, are you?" Sabo had asked, playfully scolding like a good friend. A thoughtful friend.

Hoku, as expected, had denied all claims. I can eat plenty, she'd said. Or I can just cook more—I just get distracted or it gets a bit late...

So Sabo had suggested, as any good friend would:

"Why don't we have more meals together? It's been so long since we all got together to eat."

Ace had grinned, as though the idea were completely novel, leaning forward eagerly across the table, "We used to do it all the time! We practically always had dinner together—damn, why'd we stop?"

Quietly, on cue, a faint trickle of thoughtful guilt made its way across Hoku's expression. Sabo pretended not to see it, brows creasing as he said, "You know how it is. It can't be helped when we all get busy and have things to do... it's just nice we can all reunite together now."

Relief flashed across Hoku's face at the solution to her unknown guilt. Sabo smiled, sweet and easy as he turned to her, "Right, Hoku?"

Hoku's eyes had brightened and Sabo felt his own smile widen, a soft upturn of his lips while he lightly rubbed his gloved thumb over the top of his other hand.

"No, of course! No time better than the present... we can do something as soon as you guys are free—even on days where we don't plan it, maybe just a spontaneous thing?"

Sabo had counted an appropriate pause in his mind, finally replying, "If we can get Ace to remember, I think it'll be perfect."

"Me? What about rounding up Luffy?"

Hoku had laughed, perfectly at ease, a fluttering, hopeful little bit of excitement in her gaze.

I know, Sabo thought, consoling, it's been too long, hasn't it?

(Too long.)

Sabo stood here now, the soft beginnings of evening darkening the sky behind him as he waited in front of Hoku's apartment—the fruit of their conversation, an impromptu drop off of food. An easy, casual set-up that would lead to an expected invitation.

(Progress.)

He remained dressed in clothes similar to his usual work attire, allowing his sleeves to crease slightly and his tie to loosen just so as to appear fresh off of work. He glanced once to the sleek gold watch on his wrist, considering the current time and then lifting his eyes back to Hoku's front door.

His timing should be just right, not too early that stray errands would've kept her away from home, not too late that a full meal didn't seem unappealing—though knowing Hoku, the second option was always less of a risk since her upbringing and own politeness would force her to eat, no matter how late if he'd come all this way, especially after work... just to bring her something.

Sabo smiled, fond—endearing.

(Classic Hoku.)

He knew if Ace was here this time for this one, he might've even come later, pressing for the expected chance that Hoku's hospitality would be their chance to quietly open the door, just a bit wider. It was more than obvious she'd offer them to stay the night, especially if either he or Ace played the part of being oh so tired just a bit harder, but Sabo had known for quite some time now that they'd waited long enough.

They could wait, just a bit more.

(Cover all their bases. The result will follow.)

A second bag hung from Sabo's elbow, the familiar plastic of a convenience store bag. Two canned beers sat comfortably inside, one advertising the sweet, fruity taste of lychee while the other remained a smooth, simple brand—Sabo's usual drink wasn't the kind found at the local convenience store, but this would do.

Hoku had never been one to handle her alcohol particularly well, which was why she tended to either not drink or stick to the one's lighter in taste and content. The flip side to this, however, was that Hoku had grown up close to people who enjoyed a good drink and could hold their alcohol very well—meaning she was more than happy to entertain a sip or two and have a drink for fun.

Sabo had come to realize as well, with a bit of quiet amusement, that Hoku always seemed willing to test if her alcohol tolerance had suddenly become better overnight. She was easy enough to convince.

He gave the door another knock, a steadier sound this time, not to be missed.

An older woman entered the apartment at the end of the hall. Sabo quietly watched her lightly hit the numbers across her keypad before stepping inside. His gaze turned now to Hoku's own keypad lock, still for a moment until Sabo's gloved fingers quietly slid the lock cover upwards.

Sabo's gaze was half-lidded in thought, a lazy, casual expression settled over his face. His dark eyes remained sharp beneath the long curl of his lashes, carefully looking over each number key until he quietly made out which numbers had become more worn from clear use.

He faintly traced the pattern of these numbers, a soft, unamused hum leaving his lips when he recognized the date. His gaze darkened a bit, lightly repeating the pattern as though to key in the code himself.

The sound of footsteps finally making their way down the hallway entrance reached Sabo's ears. His fingers gently slid the keypad cover closed, quietly with the softest click. He schooled his expression into one of quaint ease, a warm smile on his lips as he heard the lock twist and the locking mechanism churn.

Hoku's front door pulled open, stopping just short of yanking the rattled door chain still in place. Sabo took note of the secondary lock for only a split second before he paused, catching himself.

Sabo's mind worked with practiced quickness, a series of short observations.

A young man he did not recognize from Hoku and Luffy's immediate circle of friends stood in Hoku's place by her door. Opening her door. He couldn't have been much older than himself or Ace—his faintly youthful complexion betrayed only by the tired lines by his eyes and the sharp line of his jaw, coupled by a neatly trimmed goatee.

He was tall, hair pitch black and skin tanned. Sabo could easily make out a well-defined build from the width of open door held by the metal chain still in place. He was roguishly handsome in a way Sabo absently thought would give a few models in his agency a run for their money—he had a good brooding face, he was sure of it.

Corded muscles flexed along this man's bicep, his arm leaning against the entryway wall as he kept the door open, regarding Sabo with an expression that looked faintly vexed—the kind a person would wear when they were a bit annoyed they had to answer the door but not so impolite to be outright rude about it. Not enough to care, however, about their slight annoyance being known.

You're imposing.

Sabo's gaze stilled.

That was a very... comfortable expression to wear. It was not the kind of face a person who was only in someone else's home for the first time or for a brief moment would make. Not unless they had Luffy's audacity to make themselves at home.

This was a man who was familiar with Hoku's home.

So familiar in fact, that he felt comfortable enough to answer her door in her place.

Familiar and careful, Sabo thought in the back of his mind, because every time Hoku had opened the door for them her door chain had never been in place.

(Careful men were dangerous.)

He was also in Hoku’s home this late into the day—his bothered expression implying he’d already been here for some time. Hoku wasn’t the type to invite new people to her home this late, it took time for her to bring people into her workspace. Her home was a place he and Ace had to tread with care—it was why their apartment was easier.

(So you’re someone Hoku is comfortable with.)

But what bothered Sabo the most, and it really only bothered him so much, was that this stranger was someone Hoku deemed close enough to allow all those things—and he was someone neither Sabo nor Ace had known of.

Sabo allowed his face to become one of curious surprise. He looked at the unknown man with a practiced, startled smile.

“Oh, hello!” Sabo said. “Are you one of Hoku’s classmates? I didn’t realize she’d have someone over!”

The dark gray eyed man blinked slowly, brows furrowing in a manner that Sabo would almost find skeptical—hmm, he felt quite familiar inside Hoku’s home, didn’t he? He seemed to be considering Sabo’s greeting and inquiry, even judging if it was truthful. But Sabo’s words meant after all that he was familiar enough with Hoku to make such a statement.

“…no,” the man said slowly—his voice was low, a husky sort of natural timbre. Sabo lightly picked at the edge of his glove. “Who are you?”

Sabo allowed his startled smile to become a curious one, polite and wide as he extended his gloved hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m one of Luffy’s brothers—Hoku’s childhood friend?”

The unfamiliar man’s expression instantly cleared with recognition. Sabo continued to smile but filed this information away with a sharp twist of his lips. The man finally extended his hand through the open gap and clasped Sabo's firmly. Sabo's eyes didn't stray from his face, but he noticed the inked tattoos from the corner of his eye.

His grip was firm. It didn't linger but it did not shy.

“You’re… Sabo,” he said finally. “Sabo, aren’t you?”

Sabo smiled, feigning pleasant surprise, “That’s me! Has Hoku introduced us before?"

"No," the man said simply. He rubbed absently at his jaw for a moment, seeming to consider his phrasing before he answered, "She mentioned reconnecting with some childhood friends. Described you before... I remember you from a few photos now."

The warmth of Hoku's actions made it easy for Sabo's smile to become a touch sweeter, a bit friendlier, though he imagined none of such feelings were meant for this man.

"I'm Law," he finally introduced, "Trafalgar Law. Just a friend of Hoku's."

Sabo lightly pulled the edge of his glove. In his mind he carefully sorted through Hoku's gallery on her social media—a man like this would've easily caught his or Ace's attention. Hoku was not one to purposefully keep people an explicit secret, but she was one to not realize certain circles of her life had never crossed.

(She was also one, Sabo remembered, silent, to wait before making certain announcements.)

"This is—"

The memory of a sheepish laugh.

"He and I decided to give dating a—"

"I see! It's nice to meet you Law," Sabo said brightly. "Is Hoku home? She didn't mention going anywhere..."

Law half-glanced over his shoulder, back deeper into the apartment. "She's home. She didn't mention expecting anyone to stop by."

He said it casually, clear without any malice, simply just to inform Sabo of what he knew. It only bothered Sabo, really, that he was able to piece together a few more things about Law from this statement alone.

Law was here on a planned occasion. Most likely he was expected to be here for some time.

"No, that makes sense," Sabo said with a cheerful laugh. He motioned to the bags strewn over his arm and Law glanced briefly to it. "I was stopping by after to work because I figured she'd be home."

Law made a noise in the back of his throat that meant he understood. His gaze flickered back up to Sabo, "Just dropping this off?"

(Hah.)

Sabo smiled smoothly. "If it's a bad time? I was hoping to see her for a second."

Law seemed to consider his answer, briefly glancing once more over his shoulder back into the apartment. Sabo tilted his head softly to the side, a bit of blonde curling against his cheek.

Law's fingers deftly undid the top chain. He opened the door wide enough for Sabo to enter. "She should be out of the shower in a second."

Ah.

(Telling Ace to sit this one out really was a blessing in disguise.)

"Thank you!" Sabo smiled politely. Law slightly shook his head in a no need to thank me sort of manner.

Sabo carefully adjusted the bags over his elbow, taking a moment to himself before he casually stepped into Hoku's genkan. Law closed the door behind him, locking and bolting the door. Sabo made a point to slip off his shoes with practiced familiarity, opening Hoku's small shoe closet to place them inside instead of just leaving them in the entryway.

(He was not a new guest.)

He noticed the unfamiliar pair of dark loafers sitting beside her worn sneakers. Sabo lightly placed his own shoes between the two of them, softly closing the closet.

"I'll go set this down in the kitchen," Sabo said casually, only half turning over his shoulder. He saw Law nod, simply following behind Sabo as the two of them stepped into Hoku's living room.

Sabo kept his gaze forward, allowing his expression to settle into a simple, thin line as his eyes deftly glanced about Hoku's home. His feet carried him toward her kitchen without needed guidance.

The first thing he noticed was the television on—some kind of show for easy background noise based on the fact that neither of the two people currently in this apartment were sitting to watch. A blanket was tossed hazardously over one arm of the couch, discarded casually by Hoku, he pieced. Two mugs and a set of papers and folders were laid neatly across her table, standing out starkly compared to Hoku's scattered pages and texts—these most likely belonged to the man behind Sabo, though he couldn't make out their contents.

Sabo could hear water running down the hall as he stepped into Hoku's small, cozy little kitchen. Cozy was being kind, he supposed, but Hoku woud not allow him to think otherwise. He kept his mind focused on the task at hand. For the best, Sabo thought, since the sound of running water was only getting louder in the back of his mind, grating on his ears in this occasion where it should've been teasingly soft.

("She's in the shower.")

Law stepped into the kitchen behind him, drifting to the countertop while Sabo began to carefully set his bags down on Hoku's little dining table.

Sabo had already gauged Law was not the particularly talkative type. He smiled and said, "You mentioned you were a friend of Hoku's, but not a classmate? How did the two of you meet?"

"We met properly through a joint project at my work," Law said calmly. "Had a few mutual friends prior to it without realizing."

"I see," Sabo said. He began to pull containers from the bag. "You're an artist as well?"

Law scoffed, a light sound as he shook his head. Sabo's eyes slowly turned his way. "Doctor. She was commissioned to design a mural for the children's ward."

Sabo offered a small hum of interest, watching the broth in one container sway slightly from side to side. "So you're one of Straw Hat's brothers?"

"That's right," Sabo said, calmly adjusting a utensil set. He turned now and lightly leaned back against the dining table to face Law, lacing his gloved fingers together and letting them hang comfortably in front of him. Sabo smiled, a charming upturn of his lips. "Luffy, Ace, Hoku and I all grew up together. She lived with us for a long time as well."

"Must've been a loud house," Law said. Sabo continued to smile. "You seem more put together than either of them at least."

"Haha, we managed," Sabo said, "it was the kind of home Hoku loved. Easy to mind the noise."

Law glanced over from where he'd been lightly moving some stray items off Hoku's countertop. Sabo dully noticed the way Law seemed to know where to put each little item.

"She mentioned the two of you were back in town," Law leaned back against the counter. "What do you do for work? Random business like Straw Hat-ya?"

Sabo grinned easily. "Fortunately more stable than that. I work with a few brands and do some modeling."

"I see," Law said. "A model."

"Are you currently still in school?" Sabo said, though he could tell the answer already. "Residency?"

Law offered him one easy shake of his head. He considered Sabo for a brief moment, a simple look, before he said, "Attending."

"That's amazing," Sabo said, eyes widening. "You only look a few years older than me!"

"Worked hard," Law said with a slight shrug. "That's all."

Sabo nodded in understanding. He could feel Law giving him a curious once over. Sabo had already done the same, after all, taking in the rolled up sleeves of his black button down, undone by several buttons to reveal the top of his chest and casual black slacks. It seemed he'd just gotten off work.

Perhaps he'd be called back into the hospital soon enough.

"What hospital do you work at?" Sabo asked. "Somewhere local?"

Law nodded. "Heart Hospital."

Sabo paused for a moment, wondering briefly where he'd heard such a name before. He was familiar with that hospital, one of the biggest ones in the area. Reputable and good reviews... no, that's right. There was an article Luffy's father had mentioned to him once...

Sabo's expression became one of faux concern, brows creased, "Isn't that the one that was owned by that mobster? Doflamingo?"

For a split second, Law's jaw clenched briefly. Sabo kept his careful mask of concern, watching with lightly narrowed eyes as Law's own expression flickered before it settled. A mask of calm detachment.

"...his brother owned it," Law said clearly. "He'd left that part of the family business behind. He didn't know anything about medicine, but he helped fund the hospital and keep it afloat until it took off."

The most you've said all night. "Oh, I had no idea," Sabo said, eyes round with curiosity. "That must be a relief to know you don't have to worry about treating any criminals or having any troublemakers around, right?"

Law offered a short noise in the back of his throat as a response. One of his hands was drumming his fingers against the side of the countertop. Sabo unamusedly considered the ink etched into his knuckles with distaste.

"You know what," Sabo said now, voice lighter, "you must've been the one who treated Luffy's broken collarbone last year, aren't you?"

Law's expression instantly relaxed into the memory, lips twisting into a furious scowl. Sabo almost laughed. "Yes. Unfortunately."

"I couldn't imagine," Sabo said. "Thank you for that. Luffy's easy because you know he'll never go hungry, but you've got to watch out for what trouble he gets himself into. Hoku on the other hand..."

Sabo glanced to the take out on the table. "I'm always worrying about whether or not she's eating enough or taking care of herself. Especially since she lives alone."

Sabo shook his head. "We've been mentioning to her lately she should consider moving in with us like before. Especially considering in the past..."

Sabo purposefully stopped his explanation, giving Law and innocently hesitant look. "Has she told you about that?"

Law's expression was one of cool calm. He faced Sabo easily, "Once in passing."

"She just forgets to take care of herself," Sabo said softly. "Ace and I used to look after her all the time."

Law considered the take out and glanced halfway over his shoulder. Sabo's smile settled into a thin line. "I know what you mean."

Sabo slowly smiled. He smoothed his thumb over the top of his gloved hand.

"You sound like you know Luffy pretty well too," Sabo said casually, offering Law a grin. "One of the mutuals?"

"Didn't realize we both knew him until later," Law said. "Straw Hat-ya gets around. Realized the same about another friend."

"Who else? Would we know them?"

Law seemed to genuinely hesitate for a moment, not at all nervous, but silently contemplative. Sabo raised a curious brow until Law finally continued, "...Eustass-ya."

He gauged Sabo's reaction to the name, expression impassive. Sabo figured Law was considering the fact that if Sabo and Ace had been close enough to Hoku during high school, they should've been more than aware of Hoku's only long term relationship.

Sabo was very, very aware.

"Oh," Sabo said with oblivious curiosity. He even allowed himself to make a slightly concerned expression, "So you're... a friend of Hoku's ex?"

"...mutuals," Law said, slightly clipped.

Sabo had discovered where he could lightly tap the knife.

"I see," Sabo said, looking naively concerned. "That's nice! It's good that you two can still be friends despite that..." Law looked up at Sabo. His expression remained unbothered, but his jaw shifted slightly. "You know how it usually is for people. Easier to just cut it clean."

"...we became acquainted after the matter," Law said. "It's no problem."

There was a slight shortness, almost barely noticeable. Sabo tried to hide his slow, curling smile. "Of course! If anything, I'm happy to meet one of Hoku's friends. We try to make it a habit to be familiar with all of them."

Sabo smiled, tilting his head to the side. Law's gaze was cool, regarding Sabo with the slightest furrow of his brow. "She's one of our closest friends, after all. We've known her for so long..."

Sabo snapped his fingers as though he'd suddenly had a thought. Law leaned back against the counter, slowly sliding his arms crossed over his chest. His shoulders leaned back somewhat, giving him a broader appearance. Sabo blinked slowly, languidly.

"You guys seem pretty close," Sabo said, simple and easy. "But I'm surprised Hoku's never mentioned you before."

Law shrugged. A light raise of his shoulder. His tone was lazy.

"It's been awhile since you've been in touch."

Sabo smiled, a slow curl of his lips.

The door to Hoku's bathroom swung open with a slight bang! A happy sigh of relief flooded the whole apartment, slightly damp feet slapping against wooded boards. "Done! Shower's all yours if you wanna wash—Sabo!"

Sabo's eyes turned in an instant to the sound of her voice. Hoku stood in the entryway of the kitchen, the faintest wisp of steam curling off her skin. He kept his gaze evenly on her face, expression warm, but he could make out easily the looseness of her shirt, falling in a way about her chest that made him want to offer Law a very persuasive ride home. She slipped pajama shorts on, loose and falling too short over the top of her thighs.

Law turned lazily to look at her entrance.

Sabo's fingers clenched briefly, loosening almost instantly.

Hoku's jaw dropped in surprise, eyes wide in shock for a moment. She quickly swung her gaze from Law to Sabo, looking blatantly confused.

Sabo smiled, his eyes crinkling this time at the corners. "Good evening Hoku... I was just stopping by to bring something over in case you hadn't eaten yet. Just got off work. Dr. Trafalgar was nice enough to let me in."

"Aw, thanks Sabs!" Hoku's eyes went round, quickly hurrying over into the kitchen. She playfully shoved Law aside and he scowled, keeping to the countertop while she stopped beside Sabo. "You didn't have to! Traffy and I actually already ate an early dinner today—but are you hungry? We can heat some of this up and I'll share with you."

Sabo's smile widened even further, gaze fond as he reached over and ruffled the top of Hoku's still damp hair. He watched a bead of water roll down her neck, the smell of her conditioner lingering in the air.

Sabo lightly pulled his fingers away.

"No worries. I already ate. I just wanted to make sure you were eating."

"I am, I am," Hoku said with a pout. She flashed Law a look. "See? You're rubbing off on people!"

"This is the first time we've ever met."

"That's right," Hoku look scandalized. "Have you two introduced yourselves yet? Sabo, this is—"

"We have," Law and Sabo said in unison. Sabo laughed lightly while Law remained silent. "But that's all Hoku, don't let me keep you."

"Aw, well if you're sure," Hoku said. Her brows creased and she frowned. "You can always hang around here for a bit if you wanted! Law's hanging out until his next shift so he's resting here."

"No, no, it's fine," Sabo said sweetly, already beginning to make his way back to the entrance. Hoku followed quick at his heels, coming right up to his side. Sabo's smile widened an inch and he gently set an arm around her shoulders. "Sorry for dropping in so suddenly."

"No need to apologize! I'm happy to see ya," Hoku said brightly. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? You and Law can chat a bit, share some crazy stories—I bet you'll both realize you have plenty about Lu."

Sabo glanced over the top of Hoku's head to where Law had drifted soundlessly to the edge of the kitchen, leaning against the hallway wall.

"I'm sure," Sabo said. "But I have a short meeting with Ace... he says you need to respond to his messages faster, by the way."

"That dumbass blows up my phone at the most random time, I swear—"

"And also, Hoku," Hoku turned at his tone, eyes round and attentive. Sabo's smile curled, his gaze half lowering, pleased. His gloved fingers gently helped guide her, the softest tap, turning her body a bit more toward him.

(Just like that. Good job.)

"We wanted to move the usual appointment up a few days... would that be fine with you?"

Hoku blinked, once with a furrowed brow before her expression cleared. For a brief moment a light flush touched her cheeks, only natural given the memory of her current job with them—but Hoku instantly waved it away with an air of professionalism. "Sure, that's fine with me! The usual?"

"Yes," Sabo said lowly. "I'll keep you updated on the time." He lifted his fingers from her shoulder, drawing her attention away briefly before Sabo gently tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. Hoku looked up at the touch.

"Make sure you dry your hair," Sabo said. "You'll catch a cold."

"I will, I will," Hoku laughed, finally stopping by the genkan. Sabo easily reached into the shoe closet, taking out his pair while leaving a gaping spot between the unfamiliar loafers and Hoku's sneakers. "Text me when you get back home!"

"I will," Sabo echoed. Hoku grinned. "I'm sorry again for not staying longer, but I'll be seeing you soon."

"Right," Hoku said brightly. "Thanks again for the food, Sabs!"

"Of course," Sabo said. He looked again down the hall, smiling politely. "Good bye, Dr. Trafalgar. It was nice to meet you!"

"Likewise," Law said.

Sabo adjusted his coat as Hoku reached under him to open the door. He glanced briefly to the top of her head, watching the way the ends of her hair clung damply to the curve of her collarbone.

(A thin strand. The ends clinging to the imagined image of sweat slicked skin. Plastered messily.)

Sabo stepped through the doorway, giving Hoku a tight, one-armed hug before he stepped out into the hall. "Have a good night, you two. Doctor, hope to see you again."

Law nodded from the shadow of the hallway. Hoku grinned up at him, holding the door open as Sabo began to make his way to the elevator. "Bye, Sabs!"

Sabo waved over his shoulder, disappearing around the corner.

Hoku waited a second, staring at the empty space before she hummed happily to herself, stepping back into the apartment. Her fingers twisted the lock with ease, waiting for the familiar click click of the locking mechanism.

Hoku turned on her heel, eyes widening in surprise as she stumbled back a quick step. Law suddenly stood directly in front of her, the slight remains of his cologne still clinging to the air and his chest nearly pressing her flat to the door as he stood over her—"What the hell? Law?"

The cloth of his button down almost touched her lips from the proximity. Hoku tried to lower herself a bit so she could crane her neck up to look at her friend, eyes round with curiosity and surprise. "Traffy?"

Law's gaze was fixed for a moment on the doorframe. His expression was somewhat unreadable, his brows a bit furrowed. They always seemed furrowed in Hoku's opinion, part of his perpetual stress, but there was a strangely... thoughtful? look on his face this time. Law didn't seem to hear her startled inquiry, one of his hands resting above her against the door, as though to keep it pushed closed.

Without a word, Law's long fingers carefully slid her lock chain back in place. His gaze seemed to narrow a bit, staring intently at the door—

Hoku's knuckles knocked against his chest. Law's expression finally cleared and he glanced down, leaning his forearm against the door as he hovered over Hoku.

"Hey," Hoku began, looking curiously confused. "You good?"

Law gazed down at her for a second longer. Hoku's brows started to furrow.

"...Always lock your doors," Law said flatly, he briefly knocked Hoku's head back, ignoring her hiss of pain as he promptly moved her in front of him, forcing her back down the hallway. "I'm tired."

"Tired! We still have a whole season to get through—I think Sabo left a few drinks! Let's have some and finish up."

Hoku practically skipped down the hall, once more unbothered. Law took a few steps after her.

He paused briefly in the entryway, stilling for a second longer before Law finally turned back to the front door.

His eyes lingered on the lock for only a breath longer before he turned, making his way back to Hoku's couch.

Iif you drink that you're going to knock out."

"No way! Look at it, I think the percentage is super low. It's probably basically soda."

.... ..... ..... .... .....

Sabo silently slipped into his car.

He went through the familiar motions, locking the doors and pressing the button for the engine to start. Sabo leaned back against his seat, still tracing the fading warmth over the top of his hand.

His phone began to vibrate. Sabo lightly tapped the button to answer, placing his brother on speaker. “Ace.”

“How was it?” Ace questioned, a hint of a sulk to his tone. “Tell me eve—“

“There’s someone we need to look into,” Sabo said without missing a beat. Ace fell silent on the other end and Sabo leaned forward against his arm crossed over his steering wheel. He looked up from his windshield toward Hoku’s floor in the apartment complex.

“See if you can get a head start. His name’s Trafalgar Law.”

... .... .... .... ....

Law slowly opened his eyes to the almost comforting drone of the television.

Hoku's living room was dark, save for the soft glow of the television screen in front of them. A cooking competition rerun with one of Hoku's friends—the blonde cook, as the guest star currently flirting with one of the female judges. Law eyed the screen for a second before he slowly sat up from his sunken position on the couch, raising himself up by his elbows.

Her apartment was silent save for her friend's professions of love. Law rubbed the back of his neck, working out a kink before he looked over to the heavy weight plastered over his leg.

Hoku was completely knocked out. She slept like the dead, chest rising and falling and hair spilled out messily around them. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Law's thigh and refusing to let go as she occasionally mumbled something against it.

Law ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back as he shut his eyes and took a second to gather his bearings. He reached over Hoku, fishing for his phone and pager. Everything seemed clear, as he expected till at least noon when his next shift would start—Law raised a brow at one message from Shachi saying to disregard a memo to his pager asking him to come in maybe an hour ago.

"Mistake from front desk. Said they had a call of someone requesting you but nothing serious."

Law's brows furrowed slightly, sliding the message open and checking his pager as well. Sure enough, a message had been sent and then a quick follow up.

His hand absently settled over the top of Hoku's head. Law's long fingers half-carded through her hair as he skimmed through the notifications on his phone, half-debating if he needed to call Shachi.

Law paused, glancing down at Hoku. His brows furrowed deeper, gaze becoming focused as he moved his hand from her hair to press the back of his hand to Hoku's forehead.

Warm. She's totally flushed. Law set his phone down, nudging Hoku by her shoulder. "Hoku-ya. Hoku-ya, wake up."

"Mmmm," Hoku slurred. "'m... not yet... you feel... cool..."

The sickly sweet hang of alcohol finally reached Law's nose. He blinked slowly in faint surprise, scanning Hoku's coffee table for where she might've grabbed an extra drink when he didn't realize—they'd both just been nursing small cans of whatever until they'd knocked out on the couch—

Law paused. His eyes focused on Hoku's drink sitting at the corner of the table. He gazed at it for a second longer before Law finally turned his focus back to Hoku.

"Hoku-ya."

Hoku's eyes finally fluttered open. She moved sluggishly, expression dazed and cheeks flushed in the darkness. Law's gaze narrowed at the sight and she mumbled, shaking her head awake as Hoku slowly unwound herself from his calf, sitting up between his legs.

"Ugh," Hoku mumbled. She shook her head and them seemed to instantly regret the action. "Man... I'm... beat... 's it... time for you... go?"

Law shook his head. Hoku began to lean against the couch now, eyes heavy with sleep. He carefully considered how hard it was for her to stay awake, deeply buzzed without being properly drunk.

"'orry," Hoku yawned, shaking her head against the couch. "So... tired..."

Without another word, Law rose from the couch. Hoku mumbled something, nuzzling into the side of the cushion until Law silently slipped his arms underneath her. Hoku's eyes fluttered openly briefly, rolling up to look at Law as he lifted her up before she shut them once more, not even making a fuss as she turned to rest her head against his chest instead.

Law manuvered his way to Hoku's room, nudging the door open with his foot and quietly stepping over her scattered projects. He lowered Hoku into her bed, checking the flush of her skin before he briskly made his way out back into the livingroom.

He stopped briefly before the kitchen, grabbing the two cans off Hoku's table and flicking the light switch on. Law approached the sink, dumping out first the last of the beer from his can before he finally focused on Hoku's.

Law held the can up to the light, carefully turning the label around.

"It's sweet and fizzy," Hoku had said. "Pretty light in taste. Like a soda. These aren't so bad. Percentage seems low."

It wasn't clear on first glance. Law turned away from the label now and meticulously checked each line of the nutritional box until he found what he was looking for. He scoffed in disbelief, rolling the can once between his fingers as the bit of remaining liquid sloshed about.

The percentage of alcohol in this was one of the highest he'd ever seen in a can.

He heard Hoku's laugh. "Sabo has good taste!"

Law stared at it for a moment longer before he promptly dumped the rest of the contents into the sink, trashing the cans into Hoku's recycling bin.

He pulled a bottle of water from her fridge, quietly making his way back to Hoku's room.

Law considered her sorry state for a moment, curled into a tight little ball over the top of her sheets while she wrapped her arms tightly around one of her pillows. Hoku's cheeks were flushed a bright red, her breathing slowed. Law set the bottle on her nightstand and took a seat on the edge of her bed, working her comforter out from under her.

Hoku's eyes fluttered open once more at the disturbance, turning lazily toward Law. Hoku freed an arm from her pillow, reaching over to grip the edge of Law's shirt.

"...'ay here?"

Law glanced down at Hoku. She gazed sleepily back up at him, brows creased imploringly. He remained silent for a few beats before Law wordlessly motioned with his hand. Hoku seemed lucid enough to understand, grinning cheekily as she shuffled over so Law had room. He turned, laying himself in the freed space of her mattress as Hoku's entire face seemed to relax now, holding her pillow loosely.

Law laid sideways, pulling the comforter up over Hoku while he laid on top of them. Hoku's soft scent covered the lingering whisper of alcohol, wrapping lightly around Law. He stared silently at Hoku's face, her expression slowly growing more and more relaxed, breaths slow and easy.

A thought remained in the back of his head. He considered the conversation he'd had with Hoku just an hour or so ago before they'd fallen asleep on the couch.

"Hoku-ya."

She'd looked up at him from the top of her can.

"Has that guy always been like that?"

A wide grin, brows a bit furrowed.

"Sabo? Like what?"

She'd laughed.

'If you mean always that put together, yeah, hahaha. Between the four of us, he was always good at—"

Law had dropped the conversation there, instead letting Hoku tell him a few stories about their childhood and high school days. He listened for small pieces in Hoku's stories, a faint clue to give weight to a careless thought.

Perhaps it was because Law himself wasn't quite sure what name to put to what he'd considered he'd seen.

(His gaze meeting his own over the top of her head.)

Gloved fingers splaying widely across the back of Hoku's shoulder, featherlight she probably didn't even feel the touch.

(The way that hand had covered so much.)

The way he'd look at Hoku, just for a second—

(Possessive.)

-sorry it mightve ended up a bit more sabo-centric than law, i'll do more law TT

[dog-park-dissidents]

I’m a queer anarchist, and your music has really helped me accept myself, so here goes…what advice do you have on loving my radical self? I find myself trying to look respectable and chill to avoid being a stereotype, opting out of actions to please my family, and just internalizing a lot of BS about what it means to be an anarchist in the world. Thank you so much!!

David Graeber, RIP, guy at Occupy Wall Street who coined the slogan "we are the 99%," often said he was a "small-a anarchist" and that anarchism was a thing he did, not an identity. That is probably the healthiest way to engage with anarchism in a modern world where political identities and political language have been turned into sports teams and brands, completely divorced from anything that the words behind them actually mean. US politics at least have turned into "are you a LIBERAL or a CONSERVATIVE" which sort of means something but also means nothing, and its meanings contradict each other to the point of uselessness. They're not real ideological frameworks, after all. Nobody can give you a coherent manifesto of US American "Liberalism" but it's the thing you're supposed to agree with if you don't think gay people should die?? Maybe??? It doesn't even have any connection with the philosophy of classical liberalism, which is closer to stereotypically Republican fiscal politics, EXCEPT for when the ostensible "left wing" liberals actually agree with that shit? Anyway yeah it's a mess and it's no wonder why the younger generation is desperately trying to find an alternative way of labeling themselves so as to signal that we're outside of all that bullshit.

So don't do that. Actually be outside of all that bullshit instead of coming up with an edgier sports team to root for. Not that you're necessarily doing that, but just, remember not to do that.

Focus on the material circumstances you live in: the state and money and laws and all that shit are just things somebody made up one day before you were born. You exist in a world you had no say in constructing. Your goal is to figure out how to survive, and then to thrive, and then to be happy, under these circumstances. And ideally make them better for everyone else.

Now as for opting out of actions to please your family. Sounds like you're stuck in a family situation where you're not free to go where you want and be yourself without scrutiny, and that sucks. From the perspective of an effective anarchist, remember that it's from each according to their ability, and you don't have to feel any guilt about not doing your part to change the world.

But from a queer perspective? That queerness sounds a lot more like what's causing your tension about making yourself look more respectable. And that plays into this feeling you have of being trapped by family, or by capitalism, or whatever forces are making you feel the need to put yourself in a box. Obviously you've woven your queer identity pretty deep with your anarchism, which is good, but that definitely makes the desire to express your anarchist identity a whole lot stronger. It can feel like the same thing as your sexual orientation or gender when it's such a deep part of your worldview.

And that makes for a big contradiction in a world where political labels have turned into deep personal identities at the expense of any coherent intellectualism. Whoops. Everybody else has been forced to pick a vapid red or blue choice and here you are with an extremely deep sense of pink and black. Uh oh.

But that's the great thing about queerness, is to be comfortable existing as a contradiction, as category-defying, as someone that doesn't need to be intellectually consistent because you simply ARE. So be you. Don't feel like you have to debate the chuds in your head to explain your existence.

[creamytinydays]

The Crush: Spiderman x Everlark - Chapter 7 Sneak Peek

Summary: Mild-mannered student by day, famed thief-turned-hero the Black Cat by night, Katniss Everdeen is juggling taking care of her sister and protecting New York City all while not trying to fail Criminology 101. If that weren’t complicated enough, she’s got a crush on two guys - Spiderman, and the cute nerd she sits next to her in class. What’s a girl to do?  

Unbeta’d.

Rated Teen

Tagging some wonderful readers in case they want to take a sneak peek at the last Chapter, which will be posted by Tuesday, April 23! Thank you all SO MUCH for reading <3

@iamareader-01-blog @purpleblueberries @daydreamsandcaffeine @honeylime08

kpkpkpkp

The next week is absolutely miserable. I’ve been subsisting on a diet of ramen, ice cream, and reality TV. I tried to shake off my mood by polishing all of the diamonds in my vault, but I barely got halfway through before I gave up. My heart just wasn’t in it.  

The only time I see Peeta all week is during Criminology 101, a few days after the break-up. He sits as far as humanly possible away from me in the cavernous lecture hall, his shoulders slumped, as he mindlessly taps a pencil on the desk. I keep my eyes averted, but when I do summon the courage to look, he’s staring out the window.

I faithfully continue patrolling every night, hoping flirting with Spidey will do me some good. After all, now that Peeta and I are over, I can flirt with Spidey totally guilt-free.

Which would be great, except I can’t find him.

Spider-Man isn’t patrolling by his favorite pizza shop in Midtown, or hanging upside down from the Brooklyn Bridge. He isn’t on top of the Empire State Building, which I had to check by taking the elevator while in costume with some very confused tourists.

Spidey’s never disappeared like this. Sure, we don’t patrol every night, but this is completely new, and worrying. What if he’s in trouble?

I double my efforts, searching the city, and even calling Poison Ivy to see if her underground network has any leads, but there’s nothing. No chatter about his whereabouts, no sightings posted on the message boards. So a week passes, and I’m very close to freaking out and calling hospitals and morgues, when one day I’m prowling the top of the Flatiron building and Spidey lands softly beside me, cool as a cucumber.

“Hey Cat.”

“What the hell!” I try to punch him in the shoulder, but he dodges. Damn those Spidey reflexes. “Where have you been?”

“Around.”

“Oh, come on. You left me!”

He sighs. “It’s been a shitty week.”

“Yeah? You and me, both. It would’ve been better if I’d at least known where you were! I thought you were dead in a gutter somewhere!”

“Aw, I had no idea you cared about me so much,” he says, but there’s nothing flirtatious or playful about his tone.

I narrow my eyes. 

“Go AWOL like that again and I’m going straight back to Tiffany’s, the hero life be damned-”

“I needed space from you, OK?” he exclaims. “I’m allowed to be upset!“

I’m so confused that I don’t even know what to say. I card my fingers through the platinum strands of my wig. I’m running through various theories such as Spider-Man has been abducted and replaced with an alternate dimension Spider-Man, or maybe he’s just lost his mind in general, but before I can figure it out, Spidey has tackled me to the floor.

“Stay down,” he says, but it’s too late. There’s a metallic whirring sound above us, way too close, and I realize why Spidey knocked me to the roof. We both attempt to scramble out of the way, but sharp metal talons seize me around the ribs, gripping so tightly I’m fighting to breathe.

“Well, well, well,” says the Vulture.

kpkpkp

[clockwork-sparrow]

Tales from the Frost

Stories following the conclusion of the RP Arc, TOWER.

Stories: 1 [2] 3 4

You were my Best Friend

Witless oaf, Minerva thinks. That he assumes flowers and a pathetic smile can even begin to address his mistakes. She sits on the park bench, radiating infinite poise and chill, and irritably wonders where this puts her, then. Because while he’s a fool who doesn’t deserve a second of her time, she’s the one waiting.

“Min--”

“Don’t. Only my friends can call me that,” she cuts him off.

The corner of Rainer’s mouth tugs back. He sheepishly hovers around her with a gap stretched taut between them, insurmountable and widening like a fissure. She narrows her eyes at him.

“Out with it. What did you come here to say?”

“...Ah. Well.” Rainer fidgets until the stems of his bouquet are bruised. “Well, Min.”

Minerva’s eyebrow twitches. She inhales and holds it in.

“We were friends, once,” he says quietly. His voice dwindles further, spiraling like a plane with a shot-off wing. “Best friends, even.”

“Were.”

“Were,” Rainer agrees. He looks at Minerva’s boots. “We were a lot of things.”

“And we’re not anymore,” Minerva enunciates.

“No. We’re not.”

Minerva doesn’t move. She barely even breathes. Over twenty years of her life have been spent doing damage control for Rainer’s impulsive, unthoughtful actions and now he’s here, talking about what they were before he slept with a terrorist and flaunted a bastard son in her face. She’s been so busy filling in for his inadequacies that she hasn’t processed it much. The hurt’s nearly as sharp as it was on the day she found out.

“You need to leave,” she tells him.

“I will.” Rainer breathes in deeply. “I will, but not before saying I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late.”

“I know, but I’m sorry.” Rainer glances up and meets her eyes. Her unflinching judgment. “I should have told you.”

“What? You should have told me that you were cheating on me?” Minerva scoffs. “It would have changed nothing.”

“Even if you don’t understand why I did it, you deserved to know. I shouldn’t have hid so much from you,” Rainer confesses. He pauses, wets his lip, and swallows before continuing. “It would have changed nothing but, maybe, it could have.”

Minerva rolls her eyes but beneath her fury is a bone deep exhaustion. She’s stood alone for so long and despite the hurt and betrayal, she remembers simpler times. Tainted, yes, but nostalgia, fondness, and yearning regardless.

“But you didn’t tell me. You didn’t choose me.” Minerva’s eyes flick to the earring dangling on Rainer’s ear. “And even now, you’re still warming the bed for someone long gone...Was it worth it, Rainer? Was love worth it?”

Rainer stands straighter.

“Love makes you come alive, like you’re full of fire and stars, free and finally whole,” he says. “And I want that for you, too. I really do.”

“What is this, pity?” Minerva murmurs. “Pity for an old crone?”

“No, it’s just--”  Rainer combs a hand through his hair. “It’s just, you were never going to get that from me, and I’m sorry! I’m sorry, and there’s not a day where I wish it didn’t all fall onto your shoulders, but maybe that burden -- maybe it shouldn’t have existed from the start. Maybe if we weren’t caught in systems that groomed and expected so much of us, then maybe, maybe we could have been...been.....”

“Been what? Friends?” Minerva says in disbelief. “Best friends? Us?”

Guilt and frustration grounds Rainer into momentary silence. He exhales hotly. “Yes, friends. We could’ve been normal friends! We could’ve been what we wanted to be instead of, oh, I don’t know. Arranged everything. Bullcrap.” Unfiltered honesty spills freely from Rainer as he speaks, anguish building toward a crescendo. “But Min, those systems are gone. Those systems are gone and now it's just us. Everyone is dead. Everyone is dead and I...”

Rainer swallows again. Both of them hear his words before he speaks them; the sentence completes in their heads.

“I can’t lose you too.”

Neither of them have anything to say after that and neither of them look away. Like two rangers locked in a quick draw duel, Rainer and Minerva remain frozen in each other’s presence, hurt, aching, and wanting. Minerva eventually breaks the standoff by tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. She closes her eyes and breathes out.

“...Let’s try this again.”

[titisorriso]

Chapter 9/ Never Again (Wild Skies AU)

  The days were restless, the mornings were spent forging, the afternoons training, and the nights passed with her watching the skies and sea. Astrid led all the activities, the bags under her eyes hidden by the war paint, her tiredness obscured by her yells and tenacity.

Berk was at war.

She never thought this day would come. They were vikings, sure, but their tribe never worshipped war. Stoick did his best to avoid this, to maintain allies across the land, and although he had many, even them weren't expecting this fight.  

Astrid swung her axe, demonstrating to some young yelps how to fight and protect themselves. The strong shield, symbol of a Viking's battle proficiency, was held by each and every one of the warriors. The newbies were struggling; the wood and metal too heavy for their weak arms to keep up. Astrid noticed:

 - Never put down your shield. It is the one thing that will stop both a man's sword and a Nadder's spikes. It's your best friend and savior, so either you grow to carry it, or you better tell your family which rite you want them to say when you make your way to Valhalla.

One of the recruits raised his hand, Astrid sighing as she allowed him to speak.

 - No offense, ma'am... But where is your shield?

She scowled, the boy cowering back.

 - I don't need one. One day, if any of you become respectable warriors, you won't need one either.

A friendly, scruffy voice spoke up, entering the arena:

 - But until then, you can get all sorts of shields in all shapes and sizes right back at my shop! We're having a discount sale for young meat!

Astrid dismissed her soldiers, who made their way back home quickly, relishing the free time. She approached her tired old friend, a weak smile sprouting forth:

 - Gobber, you should be forging, not taking strolls.

Her voice was softer than when she talked to most people. Gobber had been someone to rely on in dark times. The moment Hiccup disappeared, both of them found comradery in talking about the scrawny boy who forged like there was no tomorrow. After some years, Astrid started visiting less and less, and now, with their respective problems, they rarely saw one another.

 - Ah, you know me. I'll find a way to do everything without help on time, don't you worry about that... Actually, i wanted to show you something. There were some interesting developments that i made with Hiccup's old drawings and schemes.

She shivered. The Valkyrie had completely forgot she asked that of him all those years ago.

Asking Gobber to figure out what all those plans were, what legacy did the boy leave behind, if he made anything that could be used against the dragons. Afterall, in the past, Astrid thought of Hiccup as a genius and one of the smartest vikings in Berk; how foolish was she.

Now, those papers were found useless. Even if there was something important there, it was probably made to aid Toothless. Besides, she wanted nothing to do with Hiccup anymore. He was a page in her book she was ready to rip off and set fire to.

 - Listen, Gobber, i...

He interrupted quickly:

 - Astrid, i know, okay?... I know i'm hanging on to false hope, i know i'm not your teacher anymore, but please, trust me when i say, you want to see this.

He looked earnest. Gobber suffered a lot of punishments thanks to the heir's disappearance. Gobber was the one responsible for the kids, he was their teacher and keeper when their parents weren't around, so when the news came out, Stoick couldn't think straight. Gobber went to trial, losing his honor and role of orientator in the arena; the only thing stopping his sentence to escalate to death being his title of Stoick's brother-in-arms. Subsequently, he became obsessed with the theory that Hiccup didn't die, that there was no blood or fabric or vestige of him, so he must have survived. Afterall, dragons weren't exactly polite eaters.

Astrid felt guilt, and maybe it was that guilt that drove her to accept his offer.

  He closed his forge. All windows, doors and exits barred, the only light being the fire inside the smelter that burned bright enough to illuminate the walls. Astrid observed Hiccup's childhood schemes, remembering his drawings back in his hut and noticing how rudimentary these ones looked in comparison. A smile forced itself on her lips, a certain nostalgia to imagining the boy jumping around the forge trying to do all of these in secret while also doing his work.

 - I miss him too.

Gobber spoke, snapping her out of her haze. She straightened her face, clearing her throat as she tried to not involve herself too much.

 - So... What did you want to show me?

He smiled, the normal excitement and edge of insanity in his voice popping back as he hooked and pulled as many pages from the wall as possible.

 - So, it's no secret that the boy was a bit nutty in the head, even when the job was as easy as sharpening swords, he still found some distraction to keep him occupied. Weird inventions with the sole purpose of "aiding us" in our battle, but as you know, it always managed to make everything a bit worse.

She held back from whispering a "still does".

 - Because of that, i looked at all his drawing and creations with those lenses. Thoughts filled with good intentions, but ultimately helpless. Something that any self-respecting viking would turn their nose at!

Astrid crossed her arms:

 - Yes, Gobber, i understand. You don't need to spell it out to me... I remember how he was. Just get to the point.

The smith halted for a moment. Stacking the specific papers in a curious manner as he prolonged his pause. He seemed unsure, almost aware of how crazy he was about to sound.

 - Well... That's how i chose to see it. That he made certain things with good intentions... But what if... - He took a moment to gather courage, spilling out what he meant with a mournful look - Astrid, what if Hiccup wasn't helping us. What if he was helping them.

Astrid shivered. She tried to mask the expression that forced its way up, begging to be seen. Her eyes went to the floor, trying to not make direct contact with the man, begging he would brush it off as being uncomfortable talking about the "dead" kid.

 - ... What do you mean them?

He took a step closer, his wooden leg dragging on the ground. The Valkyrie met his eyes.

 - I mean, what if Hiccup didn't get eaten or killed and tossed away... What if he ran away with the beasts?

Astrid took a moment... Then burst out laughing. She held her stomach, turning her face away, laughing until tears came out of her eyes.

 - Have you gone completely insane, Gobber?! These devils have no feelings or rational thought. They can't run away with Hiccup like some sort of scorned bride!

Gobber remained serious. Astrid tried to keep the mocking smile on, but the lie did not stick.

 - Astrid... I know i have no title, no worth and no claim... I know that questioning you, as a thane, can get me in a lot of trouble, but i need to know.

He took a step forward, the Valkyrie unmoving, paralyzed. Slowly, he grabbed her hand, holding it between his palm and hook, a pleading, teary look as the question rolled out of his tongue like a relieved breath, as if he already knew the answer before even asking.

 - ... Is Hiccup alive?... Astrid, is Hiccup the one that saved you from drowning?... Is he... The Night Stutter?

  A heavy silence. Moments of breathing and staring as she felt that urge. The urge to be a bad person, to lie and walk away, break his heart and let him believe himself mad. The urge was strong, and although it was wrong, she knew it was about self-defense rather than actual mean-spiritedness. About keeping yourself safe, knowing not many people like her got a chance to be where she was, a thane, the future chief of Berk even without any blood relation to the current chief. She couldn’t throw that away in a whim. Still, there was something in the now pathetic man that drove her to empathize: Gobber's situation could have been the same as hers. She always felt on the edge of falling out of Stoick's good graces, and she saw before her what would happen if she crossed the line.

Hiccup was alive. He was alive and well, flying around and enjoying his freedom while people like her and Gobber stayed behind to fix the mess. To take the brunt of the sword.

She turned away, unable to keep looking him in the eyes.

 - ... I don't... I'm sorry, Gobber.

She slowly pulled her hand away.

 - I'm sorry that i can't give you the answer that you want.

That was as cryptic as she could afford. A bad taste in her mouth with each word, something brewing in her stomach as she felt the necessity to heave and cry, but she held her ground. The man looked down, his hands falling to his sides, dejected.

 - ... It's okay, Astrid... I shouldn't put this much weight on you... Afterall, you're still a young lady!... You need to be fighting and courting! Pay no mind to the ramblings of this old man.

He turned away, his shoulders slumped, the warrior wondered if he was hiding tears. He slowly started putting the schemes and drawings back in place, mumbling things to himself so quietly Astrid couldn't discern any of it.

 - I'm... Going to go now, okay?

 - Yes, yes, you have a war to fight. Go ahead! Knock'em dead!

He spoke cheerful but did not turn around.

Astrid turned to leave, the sound of the door creaking open.

 - Just one more thing, if you wouldn't mind, thane?

She whipped around, staring at his back.

 - Anything, Gobber.

He turned to look at her, a huge smile with tears of joy streaming down his cheeks.

 - Just tell him to come by if he ever has time, alright?

  Staring at the ceiling, playing with the sheets, counting the seconds. All techniques she tried to find herself asleep, to no avail. There was a plethora of moments in her life that she was not proud of, that kept her awake and bursting with nightmares for many years; but ever since that night it had gotten worse. Ever since Hiccup said he loved her.

There was no one to turn to. No one to tell. Gobber now knew the truth, but she still couldn't risk confidence, not when it could put his life in danger.

So, she laid there. Questioning her feelings for him, her duty with the village and her role in the war, and somehow, above all of that, the tinge of doubt that came to her whenever she thought of dragons. Calling them devils, monsters, beasts, all of it felt wrong, but it wasn't supposed to.

She was a dragon hunter. She killed and maned many of them, and in turn, they killed many of hers. Did Hiccup know that? Something about the way he said things, it seemed like he believed Berk was no longer looking to exterminate dragons. How much did he know? Even more important, how much he didn't?

Rain fell on the roof, the sound being the final straw as Astrid got up, realizing there would be no sleep tonight.

She grabbed her axe, moving through the darkness and silence of the village towards the arena, unbothered by the heavy droplets drenching her.

  The arena was eerie. The usual clattering of blades and yelling replaced by water meeting rock and metal. She opened the wooden gate, the rain slowly fading out as she approached a still lit torch. With the light source in hand, she slowly marched towards her goal.

The cage of a Deadly Nadder was usually heavy metal doors and wooden beams to stop the beast from breaking or melting their way out, but this one was different. This dragon had been here since Astrid was a girl, she fought against it and trained many recruits with it, and after a while, it stopped trying to get out.

The Nadder was now behind bars. That was it. All that stopped the beast from leaving was thin metal bars that it could melt any day. Still, it never left.

Many times, Astrid wondered if it had just been broken, if it finally realized it had no way out and accepted the life of a prisoner rather than death. Often, Astrid thought of this beast as a coward, but now, the feelings of the beast felt a bit too familiar.

It was young back then, when it still had a fighting spirit and the dream of running away, of finally escaping and meeting others like it, but with time and training, it realized the world had other plans. That people expected something from it and it had no choice. With time, that trapped feeling felt like home, like how things were supposed to be. It's not that it wasn't fighting, there was just nothing to fight. It realized its role; it needed to obey and follow. No second thoughts or chances.

Astrid stared into the beast's eyes.

This was home. 

The fire flickered, the Nadder waiting for orders, for the gate to open so it could perform its duty again. The warrior obliged.

She opened the cell, taking steps back as it took steps forward, mimicking her, watching her movement as if it were a dance and it was waiting for its cue.

Carefully, Astrid put her axe down, watching as the beast's pupils grew. The Nadder was confused, but curious, almost expectant.

The Valkyrie took a deep breath and dropped the torch.

Her eyes took a while to adapt to the darkness, the rain had completely stopped. Their breaths were synchronized, waiting.

Her hand went forward, staying in the air right in front of the dragon, her palms sweating as there was still uncertainty in her mind. What stopped the beast from attacking? From taking this opportunity and biting off her hand? The hand on her side clenched, her unease quickly becoming fear as she noticed the beast approaching.

The texture of the dragon's scales was different from Toothless. Her nose meeting the warrior's palm like it was normal. As if they had done this many times before. The Nadder rubbed herself against Astrid's hand.

"She trusts me."

The realization came like a wave. She didn't run or fly away because, to her, Astrid was her friend. The dragon trusted her to not harm her, to do what needed to be done and then allow her to go back to her spot and sleep and eat. Astrid didn't even realize what she was doing, the respect that she gave to this dragon without even realizing. The trust she instilled and the false kindness she had given out of routine, out of obligation, like second nature.

Tears streamed down her face as she took a couple steps forward, the beast not even flinching as Astrid hugged her tight.

 - I'm so sorry...

Hiccup was right. She couldn't believe it, her mind reeling from everything that she had done while believing these creatures were nothing but monsters. She let go of the dragon, the Nadder tilting her head to the side, confused with Astrid's behavior, but still appreciating the affection.

“Never again.”

She wiped her tears, determination filling her heart.

 - I'm getting you out of here.

  His head was pounding, his skin itching and his lungs hurting. Of all the times Hiccup had been captured, this was by far the worst scenario. They even took his metal leg! Who does that?!

His eyes creeped open, his vision hazy and a bit blurred, but on the upside, he could move his body. On the downside, he heard and felt the rattling of chains as his hands were restrained.

He leaned his head back, hitting it against the stones a few times. There needed to be a way for him to force his mind to create some smart ideas.

 - Hello?... Anyone there?

His voice was raspy as he tried to get some attention. Were there no guards? Well, there really was no need for them anyway, it's not like there was a way out of here.

He felt his body wanting to find Toothless. To see if he was okay, wondering what terrible things they were doing to him, but those thoughts wouldn't help right now. The questions of how long did Johann plan this, who's attention was he trying to get, how were these buildings made and did they have to do with the Razorwhips disappearing?

He pulled forward, testing the strength of the chains. They tensed but remained strong.

 - HEY! Anyone! Let me OUT!

He yelled and made the chains rattle. A punch to the metal door of the cell:

 - QUIET DOWN, PRISONER!

So, there was someone there. Hiccup itched his face against his shoulder, noticing his armor was filled with holes and burns from the acid. His voice came at an almost reassuring tone:

 - Oh, so there is someone there... What's your name?

He was met with silence, but he could hear a shuffling of fabric as the guard moved.

 - C'mon, what bad could it do for me to know your name? It's not like i can do anything.

The guard punched the door again:

 - I said SILENCE! You are not to speak another word.

Hiccup noticed his tactic wasn't working. Since being friendly wasn't the way, he would try a different method.

 - You know... It doesn't really *matter* how trapped i am right now. I have dealt with worse enemies than a trader with some exotic weapons. Ever heard of the Grimborn brothers? Yeah, i dealt with them. Let's just say it's not a good idea to be on my bad side.

He was met with a long silence, and then a prolonged laugh.

 - Oh, i'm aware of your doings, Night Stutter. I know them way too well.

He heard keys jingle as the door was unlocked. Hiccup scooched back, thinking of how he could react against this guy while fully in chains.

The familiar face that appeared made the rider shiver.

 - ... Krogan?...

The man smiled. There was a huge new scar going across his face, and his right leg was replaced with a metal spike.

 - Surprised to see me, Haddock?

Hiccup's stomach turned, his anger rising as this simple kidnapping became more problematic than he imagined. He killed the Grimborn brothers, he defeated Drago and Toothless became the new alpha. Krogan was Drago's servant, a lackey he thought the monster had given an end to; but now, Hiccup wondered how big of a threat this all was, who was involved in this and what was really happening.

He jumped forward, forgetting his wounds, the chains and the lack of a leg. The rider fell backwards with his failed attempt of lunging at him.

 - WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO TOOTHLESS?!

Hiccup expected anything from him. A sadistic laugh, a mean remark, even a punch to the gut.

Krogan said nothing.

The man just stared at the rider, a mysterious look over his eyes.

 - Your dragon is unharmed. Johann needs him alive to command the other beasts.

Hiccup's rage did not falter even with the reluctant answer.

 - I swear, if only one of his scales is out of place, Odin have mercy--

 - What? What will you do, rider?!

The interruption caught Hiccup off guard. What could he do? Nobody knew he was here; he didn't even leave a note back home because he thought it would be a quick surveillance.

 - That's the thing, Hiccup Haddock, you always need others. You're useless by yourself. The dragon is gone, your precious Berserker friends are too busy dealing with a sudden Dragonvine outbreak, Alvin has a little riot the hunters incited on his hands, and Berk... Well, it's not like Berk can miss what they don't know exists...

Hiccup's brain yelled at him to not incite the hunter, but something about this situation made his rationality be destroyed:

 - I have more allies than you know. You haven't even scratched the surface.

 - Oh, please. They know you, Hiccup! Bayana, the Wingmaidens, the Defenders of the Wing, they're all busy. You are helpless, and soon, you will be dead.

The rider's head dropped, the anger slowly fading to a sense of despair.

 - I... I've been through worse. This is nothing.

 - Do you truly believe that?

Krogan approached Hiccup, kneeling to see him eye to eye as the rider sat dejected against the wall:

 - You have nowhere to go, Hiccup. No one to turn to. They won, and you will be nothing but a faraway memory of what could have been.

Hiccup's face lit up, coming to a conclusion he hoped wasn't the wrong one:

 - ... You keep saying "they" instead of "we"... Why are you here, Krogan?

The two stared at each other. That similar flame of rivalry and hatred threatening to spark again and ruin whatever was about to be proposed. Krogan was one of the only hunters to have come close to killing Toothless, and that was all it took for Hiccup to hate someone. He was heartless, emotionless and observant. In many ways, he reminded Hiccup of Viggo, but Viggo had some sort of feeling, just any feeling. He got something from this cat and mouse chase. Krogan seemed to only focus on his goal: Surviving. Anything else was just colateral damage. Krogan’s voice turned somber:

 - ... These people, they are not to be trusted. When Drago tried to execute me, i barely made it; having to hide in corners and stay away from the public... I would thank the gods if i believed in any of them for letting me live for so long, but i'll settle for thanking you.

He got up, holding a key as he showed it to Hiccup, just out of reach.

 - You, rider, killed Drago. You freed me from that prison of shrouded shadows.

 - Believe me, you weren't really in my mind when i did it. Call it a unfortunate consequence.

 - Ah, but that's where you're wrong.

Krogan took a step forward, Hiccup flinching backwards, ready to headbutt or kick as much as it was necessary, but the hunter simply threw the key into his hand.

 - ... I'm returning the favor. Go, Night Stutter. You're free.

Krogan turned around, already leaving as Hiccup shouted:

 - WAIT!

The man stopped.

 - You expect me to believe that? I'm not a child anymore, Krogan. What is your true goal?! What do you want from me?! I'm not going to be a pawn in your sick game!

The hunter put his hood on, a low chuckle making even the walls shiver.

 - Just get out alive, rider. We have just begun.

  The devil was stubborn. Astrid tied a rope around her neck, pulling her silently through the houses and fields... Except the dragon didn't get the sudden change of pace.

The Nadder groaned and perched on every fence and wall it could find, Astrid having to pull extra hard for the beast to keep it pushing. The Valkyrie would often whisper in anger:

 - I swear, you're not exactly making this change of heart easy. 

The dragon flapped her wings in response. Unbothered and quite excited to see the outside again.

They eventually reached the forest, Astrid less worried about being found out as Raven's point was the only spot she didn't assign a patrol to, worried Hiccup could be stalking around these parts again and not wanting him to get caught.

The open sky was littered with stars, the warrior remembering her first time flying as she realized the time had come. The wind howled, a bitter cold predicting the arrival of winter. Astrid turned to the Nadder, untying her rope.

 - Well, this is it.

The Nadder stared, confused. Astrid smiled, finding the beast's confusion endearing.

 - C'mon, go! You're free. 

The dragon remained put. Seconds passed, then minutes, and all the beast did was look around the woods and stay put. Astrid lost her patience.

 - I'm serious, go! You can leave!

More empty staring.

 - Sweet Thor, do you not understand me? Is that it? Okay...

Astrid took some steps back, the dragon tilting her head as she observed the woman start mimicking flying.

 - You... SOAR! Go... UP! The SKY is OPEN! You can GO!

The Nadder sat down. Astrid's palm went to her face.

 - You are smarter than this. I know you are! Why are you resisting me?!

She was talking to a dragon as if it had feelings and thoughts. Dear gods, she was becoming Hiccup. The warrior decided to change her method.

 - Okay... Maybe you just don't know i'm talking to you. I mean, Hiccup named his Night Fury, maybe you want a name too...

The Nadder seemed interested, loafing forward like a hen as she waited for a name.

 - Uh... How about... Zephyr? Like the wind! I always wanted a daughter named Zephyr.

The dragon shook her head.

 - Okay... Maybe Gunnr?! Like battle! That's a solid name, right?

The dragon groaned in disapproval. Astrid stared at the sky, bewildered and annoyed. She was really asking a dragon what she wanted her name to be. A stark contrast to the butchering and axeing she could be doing instead.

She watched as the wind brought dark clouds over Berk, a weird tint to them that she had never seen before. An idea formed as she looked to the Nadder.

 - How about... ÉlFljúga? Stormfly? Do you like that?

The Nadder jumped up, considering it, then running towards Astrid and nuzzling the woman who giggled with the affection.

 - Alright, alright. Well, Stormfly... It's time to go. You can't stay, it's not safe.

Stormfly moaned, confused at the woman pushing her away.

 - I'm serious, girl. You can't stay, they'll... We'll kill you.

The dragon looked into Astrid's eyes, still confused and reluctant, but a certain understanding went between their hearts. There was a connection there, as Astrid touched her forehead to Stormfly's spike, the dragon closed her eyes, saying goodbye.

 - I'm sorry that i hurt you so much... I promise that there is someone out there who will treat you with the most love and respect.

She kept holding on to the dragon's face as she moved to the side so Stormfly could see her as she spoke:

 - There's a guy that will find just the right habitat for you. He's a bit smelly and has a bad sense of humor, but he'll treat you right. Just follow north, he'll find you.

She let go of Stormfly, the dragon moaning as it once more refused to leave, but clearly more willing to do so if ordered again. Astrid felt a pang in her heart.

 - ... The world isn't ready for you. We... We don't deserve you. At least i don't. Not after everything i've done.

 - Well, at least you admit it.

The Valkyrie turned around like lightning, grabbing her axe and swinging it to a fighting pose. Stormfly jumped beside her, readying a shot.

A hooded woman mounted on a Razorwhip. Astrid had never seen one face to face, the surprise must have been all over her complexion, for the woman laughed.

 - Don't worry, Windshear doesn't bite... Too hard.

 - Who are you?!

The woman dismounted her dragon, revealing her face and long black braided hair.

 - Name is Heather. We need to talk about Hiccup. °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°    This one took a lot of editing. Had to find the old notebook i wrote the story on to see where i was going with this and decided to change it all. Hope you enjoyed it! (And i know this is looking like the end, but believe me, there is so much story to go. I had way too much freetime back then.)

[missizzy]

Narrative Interlude: And We Can Love Forever(Wyll/Karlach)

(Takes place in the universe of my first playthrough, where, we've reached Rivington, and had Vlaakith show up to bother us before Karlach revealed she's getting worse again.)

He saw Karlach talking to Sara, and he could very easily tell why. Too easily. In the days since she'd turned from his quarry to his companion, he'd observed Karlach enough that he now had some idea of when her heart was getting worse again.

He didn't know if and when she'd come to him. He didn't know enough about what she wanted from him for that. Really, the only thing he was sure about was the exact nature of his own feelings for her, and even that was a very recent realization on his part.

So as the others retreated into their tents, eager for rest after not only the day's but the evening's Vlaakith-related excitement, Wyll lingered outside, sitting down and gazing up at the sky, now clear and beautiful with the stars once again. He and Karlach had, while in the Shadow-Cursed lands, talked about possibly stargazing together when they were visible again; he'd promised to tell her about the constellations. Obviously he'd understand if she wasn't up to it that night, but he wanted her to know he was available for it.

At first, she, too, went into her tent. Wyll tried to tell himself not to be too disappointed. But then, a few minutes later, she poked her head out, and looked over at him. He beckoned.

"Coming!" she called, and she actually sounded happy, even excited. But as she came over, her walk was slightly unsteady, and she greeted him with, "I'm afraid I'm a little overheated tonight. Not to the point I'd burn you, maybe, but..."

In response, Wyll just held his arm out, and wrapped it around her as she snuggled up against him. He'd let himself one of the members of the group she could be the most touch-feely with, though it might have still been Halsin who'd given her the most hugs. She was running hotter then she had last time they'd touched, a day or so ago.

But it would've had to have been a lot worse for Wyll to not pull her in closer as they lay back for a better view. If he never got anything else from her, he knew, this could still be enough.

Karlach knew of a few constellations already, about the Centaur and the Warrior Woman and the Eyes. But even there, he knew more details of the stories behind them, and he happily regaled her with everything he could remember learning about in his youth. He pointed out some other ones to her as well.

Wyll found himself glad, however, that Mystra's Circle wasn't quite visible yet. She was one of the many powerful entities they were all very unhappy with right now.

For nearly an hour, they lay there, and talked about nothing but the stars. When Wyll's voice was getting a little hoarse, Karlach sighed happily against him, and said, "Thank you so much, Wyll. I needed this so much right now you wouldn't even believe it."

"I think I did, too," he said, because he did. It was the first time he'd felt at all relaxed since the battle in Moonrise Towers and the terrible places below. He pushed back the guilt, then, at the thought that he was lying about with someone like this when who knew what his father was enduring, right at that moment. Seeing Karlach's smile made it easier to do that.

He hadn't expected to talk about anything serious that night, since that clearly wasn't what Karlach wanted. But it was impossible for any of them to get things from their minds completely, and as her smile faded, she asked, "Do you think we'll free this Gith prince? I mean, Vlaakith's claims about him are probably bullshit, but it still could get...everyone killed, or worse..."

She spoke it as if she wasn't sure she should count herself under everyone, as if it was already a given she'd come to the same fate either way. Wyll wanted to protest. But he could only say, "We ought to. I'm certain of that much." Neither of them had gone into the Astral Plane and seen the trapped prince, but Sara, Gale, and Shadowheart's descriptions of him had been vivid enough, and Lae'zel's lack of words as they'd told the story had said even more.

Another victim they couldn't save yet, couldn't even know if they'd be able to save him yet. And while Wyll's father's fate could dictate the fate of a city, this prince's could dictate the fate of an entire race. It was quite a burden to put on the shoulders of someone like Lae'zel. It amazed Wyll that she didn't seem to even realize that.

"You..." Karlach looked a little more anxious. "You're not going to turn on us, or leave us, are you, if we do some truly ugly things to win this fight? Because I'm pretty sure we're going to have to do them."

"I know..." Wyll thought about it for a moment, but then continued. "I do know that sometimes you have to make hard choices. I don't even think the one I made to form the pact with Mizora was the most painful one I made before all this, believe it or not. I always do try to do the ideal thing, or what I've thought was the ideal thing..." He had confided to her already his fear, that they had been others like her, people he'd killed on Mizora's orders who hadn't deserved it, and he couldn't know.

"And I have, too, when I've had a choice about it," said Karlach. "But you do know that sometimes you can't? That sometimes you need to do what'll have the best outcome for people?"

And now her words were very pointed. But surely, he thought, she wasn't...

"I remember what you said, that first night in the Underdark," she said. "About wanting the kind of romance sung about by the bards, about doing things properly. And maybe if we had more time, I could let you. I would've liked it, too. But my life has never allowed me such luxuries, and now it looks like it's not ever going to."

Wyll, too, could remember Karlach having already said something to that effect, though she'd been speaking in much more general terms, then. To some extent, it still made him want all the more to treat her in the way she'd never been treated, much as he heard and understood her arguments against it.

"This has been a rough day for me," she continued. "Even before I started to feel the overheating. When even the circus turns out to not be that much fun...and when I first walked over here, you know, I was telling myself at least I'd end it in the arms of a prince? Because you really are one, and that has nothing to do with your birth, either.

But now, I've been listening to your stories, and don't get me wrong, I've loved hearing them. But...I don't want tonight to be a pretty story. I don't want the prince to dazzle me with things I'll know if the morning I can't really have. I just want the man with horns and scars and fears and uncertainties to hold me close."

"Karlach..." Her name came from him like a breath let out, like he could do nothing besides speak it. His mouth chased his breath towards her, and she came forward to meet it.

And honestly, it felt like a moment from a song, when their lips met. Maybe a little uncomfortably hotter, and a little hungrier, and also with a little more saliva, than the epic poets would've like, but Wyll felt his heart soar just as high, for all that.

That feeling even lasted through a few more kisses, and the air even felt a little exquisite when they paused to breathe it in. "You do love me back, don't you?" Karlach whispered. "I hoped you did, of course..."

"I do. I've been the same." He gave himself another few moments to think, before saying, "I'll hold you tonight. In fact, you don't have to sleep alone again, if you don't want to. I don't suppose we need to mind if anyone knows; we'd hardly be the only pair of beings sharing a bedroll in this camp, after all."

She smiled at that, but said, "But you won't do more than kiss me tonight, will you? I really can't get you to unbend further than that?"

"You're not going to drop dead tomorrow, I hope?" he asked. For a moment, the fear flared up that she actually would.

But she shook her head. "Don't think so. In any case, I'd better not before I get to Gortash...no, I suppose we have at least a little time left. So...you will make love to me, Wyll, before I die? Please, I really want to have that before I go." Her words nearly caught on a sob.

"I will, I promise you that," he said, and he meant it. "But even if we won't wait as long as I normally would, do give me a chance to make it a little more romantic than a desperate fumble coming off a day like this. Please," he said, and kissed her again. "I want to at least give you that much."

"Okay, then," she agreed. "I suppose I really have to love you all the more for that, even if I'm a little disappointed right now. As long as what you can give me will be enough for both of us. It just has to be that."

They stayed out there another hour, even spending a little more time looking at the stars, though much of the time they were quite distracted from them. When Karlach then admitted she was finding the interior of a tent a little stifling, they ended up curling up together on top of a bedroll; the heat coming off her didn't really allow for sleeping in one. When Wyll closed his eyes to sleep that night, he found he was at last doing so without seeing the image of that tadpole entering his father's.

[justsomemediocrepoems]

Thinking of where it all started

You were scared and I was brokenhearted

In a few hours of glancing

The courage got you dancing

Our minds play games with us

So you don’t play with me

I felt as if you were just like me

Got me falling over your words

Telling me I’m the only girl you see

Yet I feel completely bleek

Between you and me

My heart was once full of blood

Pumping purely and beating strong

3 years,it drained quickly as my bud

Whats wrong? I jump at a thud

I may seem like the one

To give you babies and build a home

But my mind always roams

Free thinking all that’s left is none

You may seem to know what I need

Protect and guide, be there in three

I did need you

But needing you made me distracted

Distracted from the healing I was working on

Caught up living in moments not living for my future

Snorting half of it away

Guilt weighed on me.

I didn’t want to express the special moments as regret

I regret nothing

Except not watching the sun set

Yes I trusted you but I still felt as if I was just another hit

Another like

Another girl

You turned out to be much different than I imagined

Better than before but surprising

I saw potential for what of us can

bloom

I feel thou the seed planted

The stem grew and rose

Watched while looking into ur eyes

Possibly the petals fell too early

Maybe the seed wasn’t watered enough

From the start

Between you and me

I haven’t watered my seed in a healthy way

Some of the times and day

I overflow or be drained

No matter how long I stay

I lay here and pray

A higher power, the big and mighty

Powerful, aware, patient, infinite

May you take care of me and my lover

Bring the strength and love you behold

Open my mind and heart to the truth

Support me with you blessings

As im human

I pray quite often in the hope

God will talk to me as I cope

I may not always know

But once I do I go

Running away from everything and everyone I keep foot

One step I see you

The next I don’t

One step I’m numb

The next cut me done

So I’m sorry if I run away from you

I don’t always mean disappear

But

When your so used to the darkness

How can you not go back near?

To be honest I like what me and you have

You make me feel special and make me laugh

I never thought we would end up

Here writing poems

Explaining our minds and emotions

Things are easy, we never fight,

All you do treat me is with right

I know and see you care

Feel your there

Smell your hair

And think am I giving fair?

I desire to be good

For myself and you

But I only have a clue

On how to treat you

Don’t tell me I’m wrong when I’m right

Or else I just might

Run and be done

But never with you

Your my muse

[smartmoneywoman]

To-Do Lists: The Secret Weapon to Tackling Life's Chaos

Do you feel overwhelmed by the chaos of life? The answer may be simpler than you think. To-do lists can be the secret weapon to gaining control over all of your tasks and increasing your productivity and focus. By breaking down your goals into manageable chunks, you can begin to tackle the chaos of life one step at a time. In this blog post, we will explore the many ways that to-do lists can help you stay on top of tasks and take control of your life.

1. To-do lists: the boring-but-necessary tool for adulting

To-do lists. Just hearing those words can make your eyes glaze over and your mind wander off to a faraway land where responsibilities don't exist. I get it, I really do. To-do lists can seem like the ultimate buzzkill, the party pooper of productivity. But let me tell you something – they are also the unsung heroes of adulting. Picture this: You wake up on a Saturday morning, ready to take on the world. You have a million things swirling around in your head – laundry, grocery shopping, paying bills, calling your mom (because guilt is a powerful motivator). It's enough to make you want to crawl back into bed and pretend responsibilities don't exist. But fear not, my friend, for the to-do list is here to save the day. With its organized, bullet-pointed goodness, it can transform even the most daunting tasks into manageable little nuggets of accomplishment. Suddenly, the chaos of life doesn't seem so overwhelming. You have a roadmap to guide you through the madness. So, embrace the to-do list. Embrace the joy of checking off each item, feeling the sweet satisfaction of progress. Because let's face it – adulting can be hard, but a good to-do list? It's like a superhero cape for your productivity. So grab a pen, start writing, and conquer the chaos, one task at a time.

2. Benefits of using a to-do list

Do you ever feel like life is a never-ending game of whack-a-mole, where tasks and responsibilities keep popping up faster than you can handle them? Well, my friend, that's where the humble to-do list comes in. It may seem like a simple tool, but let me tell you, the benefits of using a to-do list are nothing short of life-changing (okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic, but you get the point). First and foremost, a to-do list brings a sense of order and organization to the chaos of daily life. Instead of keeping a mental inventory of all the things you need to get done, you can simply jot them down on paper (or type them out on your fancy digital device). This not only helps to clear your mind but also ensures that nothing slips through the cracks. It's like having a personal assistant without actually having to pay someone to follow you around all day (although, that does sound kind of nice). Another major benefit of using a to-do list is the sheer satisfaction that comes from checking off completed tasks. There's just something incredibly gratifying about physically crossing an item off your list or clicking that little checkbox on your phone. It's like a tiny victory every time you complete a task, and those little victories add up to a major sense of accomplishment. And let's not forget the mental benefits. By writing down your tasks, you are essentially externalizing them, freeing up mental space to focus on more important things (like figuring out what to have for dinner or finally watching that Netflix show everyone's been talking about). Plus, studies have shown that writing things down helps to improve memory and increase overall cognitive function. So, by using a to-do list, you're not only getting things done, but you're also boosting your brain power. Talk about a win-win! So, whether you're a master multitasker or a professional procrastinator, a to-do list can be your secret weapon for taking control of your life. It brings order to the chaos, boosts productivity, and provides a sense of accomplishment. So grab a pen (or open your favorite list-making app), and start harnessing the power of the to-do list. Your future self will thank you.

3. How to create a to-do list that works for you

Creating a to-do list may sound like a simple task, but trust me, my friend, it's an art form. It's not just about scribbling down a bunch of tasks and hoping for the best. No, no, no. To create a to-do list that truly works for you, you must approach it with a strategic mindset (cue epic music). First, start by brainstorming all the tasks that need to be accomplished. Let your creativity flow and write them all down, no matter how big or small. This is your chance to unleash your inner list-making genius. Next, it's time to prioritize. Take a good, hard look at your list and determine which tasks are most important and urgent. You know, the ones that will haunt your dreams if you don't tackle them head-on. Put those at the top of your list and bask in the glory of your strategic thinking. But wait, there's more! Break down your tasks into smaller, more manageable steps. It's like deconstructing a giant mountain into tiny molehills. By doing this, you'll avoid feeling overwhelmed and actually make progress (imagine that!). And here's a pro tip: consider categorizing your tasks. Maybe you have work-related tasks, personal errands, and self-care activities. This way, you can tackle each category separately and feel like a multitasking superhero. Finally, be flexible. Life happens, and plans change. Embrace the chaos, my friend, and adjust your to-do list accordingly. After all, a to-do list is not a set-in-stone contract; it's a tool to help you stay organized and focused. So go forth, my fellow list-maker, and create a to-do list that works for you. And remember, in the battle against chaos, a well-crafted to-do list is your greatest ally. May the list-making gods be with you!

4. Prioritization: the key to a successful to-do list

Alright, my fellow list-makers, it's time to talk about the magical art of prioritization. Sure, you can jot down all your tasks on a to-do list, but if you don't prioritize them, you're just playing a game of task roulette. And let's be honest, you're more likely to win the lottery than complete all your tasks in a day. So, how do you prioritize like a pro? Well, it's simple (kind of). Start by identifying the most important tasks – you know, the ones that will make your life implode if left undone. These are the tasks that will have your boss breathing down your neck or your spouse giving you the death stare. Trust me, you want to tackle these bad boys head-on. Next, look at the tasks that will give you the most bang for your buck. These are the tasks that will make a significant impact or bring you the most satisfaction. It's like finding the hidden gems in a pile of rocks – they're worth the effort. And finally, don't forget about those tasks that have a looming deadline. Procrastinating might be your middle name, but trust me, it's a lot less stressful to tackle these tasks sooner rather than later. Plus, you'll have more time to binge-watch that new show on Netflix guilt-free. So, my friend, embrace the power of prioritization. It's the key to conquering your to-do list and taking control of your life. Remember, you're the captain of your own ship, and with a well-prioritized to-do list, you'll navigate those stormy seas like a true badass. Now go forth and conquer!

5. Tackling the tough tasks on your to-do list

Alright, my friend, it's time to face the music – those tough tasks that have been haunting your to-do list for far too long. We all have them – the tasks we keep pushing to the bottom of the list because, let's be honest, they're about as appealing as a cold cup of coffee. But fear not, my fellow task conqueror, for I have some tips to help you tackle even the most daunting of tasks. First things first, break it down. Sometimes the reason a task seems so overwhelming is because we're looking at the big picture. So instead of trying to swallow the whole elephant in one bite, break it down into bite-sized pieces. Whether it's writing a report or cleaning out the garage, tackle one section at a time and watch that sense of accomplishment grow with each step. Next, find your motivation. Maybe it's blasting your favorite pump-up playlist or bribing yourself with a delicious treat once the task is complete. Whatever it takes, find something that will make the task a little more enjoyable (or at least bearable). And finally, embrace the power of procrastination. Yes, you heard me right. Sometimes our best work comes from that last-minute burst of energy and panic. So don't be afraid to put off that task until the very last minute – just make sure you still have enough time to complete it. So go forth, my task-tackling warrior, and conquer those tough tasks with a smile on your face (or at least a begrudging acceptance). Remember, even the toughest tasks can be conquered one step at a time. And when you finally cross that task off your to-do list, you'll feel like the superhero of productivity. Now go forth and conquer!

6. Staying motivated and accountable with a to-do list

We've all been there – staring at our never-ending to-do lists, wondering how on earth we're going to find the motivation to tackle them all. It's like trying to climb Mount Everest with only a pair of flip-flops and a granola bar. But fear not, my fellow list-makers, for I have some tips to help you stay motivated and accountable with your to-do list. First, set realistic goals. Don't expect to conquer the world in a day. Break your tasks down into manageable chunks and give yourself a pat on the back for each little victory. Celebrate the small wins, like finally changing that lightbulb that's been flickering for weeks or making it through a whole hour without checking social media (a true feat, my friend). Next, find an accountability buddy. Share your to-do list with a friend or family member who will hold you to it. Let them give you a gentle nudge (or a swift kick in the rear) when you start slacking off. And hey, if they're really motivated, maybe they'll even join you in your productivity quest. Finally, reward yourself. Treat yourself to something special once you've completed a big task or reached a major milestone. It could be a decadent piece of chocolate, a luxurious bubble bath, or even a guilt-free Netflix binge. Whatever floats your boat and keeps you motivated. So my friend, embrace the power of motivation and accountability. Let your to-do list be your guide, and let your inner productivity superhero shine. With a little determination and a lot of laughter, you can conquer any task that comes your way. Now go forth, my motivated and accountable friend, and let the chaos of life tremble in your presence.

7. Avoiding common pitfalls when using a to-do list

Ah, the to-do list. The beacon of hope in a sea of chaos. But as with any great power, there are always pitfalls to watch out for. So, my fellow list-makers, let's talk about the common mistakes we must avoid when using a to-do list. First, let's address the never-ending list. You know, the one that seems to multiply faster than rabbits in spring. It's important to remember that your to-do list is not a never-ending abyss of tasks. It's a tool to help you stay organized and focused. So, avoid the temptation to add every little thing that crosses your mind. Be selective, my friend, and keep your list manageable. Next, let's talk about the danger of unrealistic expectations. Yes, we all want to be super productive, but trying to cram a week's worth of tasks into a single day is a recipe for disaster. Be kind to yourself and set realistic goals. Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither will your to-do list. And finally, beware the shiny distractions. We all know how tempting it is to check social media or dive into a Netflix marathon instead of tackling our tasks. But remember, my friend, the power of the to-do list lies in its ability to keep us focused. So, resist the allure of shiny distractions and stay true to your list. With these pitfalls in mind, my fellow list-makers, go forth and conquer the chaos of life. Embrace the power of the to-do list, and remember, you are the master of your own productivity. May the forces of focus and organization be with you! Related Topics Time Management: 15 Ways To Manage Your Time Effectively The Power Of Tracking Your Habits 10 Smart Ways To Invest In Yourself Read the full article

[my-traumacore-sideblog]

hey so feel free 2 let me know if this is not helpful and i can 100% delete this reblog if u want me 2 i just wanted 2 tell u smth, i've been following ur blog 4 a while and idk mayb it's silly but as some1 who's also lived in a high control environment family b4 and made it out the other side i wanted 2 tell u that it is 100% okay 2 get tf outta there when u need 2, ik w me i had a lot of guilt abt it at 1st that was keeping me there longer than it should, i even had other ppl who didn't even know my situation saying shit like "but they r ur parents they r doing their best" even tho that was not at all applicable 2 my situation

taking advantage of lovebombing is probably a good idea especially if u r able 2 get out of there soon, that way u can hav a better start when u do leave since u won't need 2 worry as much abt buying decent clothes ect

4 me personally what helped is making plans w/out them knowing so they couldn't interfere, ik it's gonna b the last thing u wanna do rn but if u can muster it try 2 build up a support network, if u can't face it tho that's understandable just focus on what u can do so u don't get overwhelmed, learn 2 budget it a way that works 4 u, w me i use 1 of those budgeting apps so i don't hav 2 think abt it as much and the app can keep track of it 4 me, try 2 house hunt in a way that won't get u in trouble or put u in more danger, the excuse i used was saying it was 4 college and the college i want 2 go 2 doesn't provide accommodations 4 students staying over there, idk if that would work 4 ur situation but i figured i'd type all this out just in case any of this is helpful during this difficult time, try not 2 make the mistake i did tho of letting them go 2 the house viewing w u or letting them know ur new address (i was still a lil brain washed at the time tbh), now w me i didn't hav 2 worry abt getting a job bc im on disability benefit and i get paid enough 4 it 2 b livable, i still need 2 b careful and budget but it's workable, but idk what ur financial situation is so if u need 2 try 2 job hunt i would recommend doing that b4 ur out on ur own, even if ur not in a situation where u can get a job until ur out just knowing who's hiring could b good 4 saving on time and making sure u hav a better chance at financial security

most importantly tho, i wanted 2 tell u that while this is going 2 b hard and it is going 2 b painful 4 me at least leaving was the best decision i ever made and i don't regret it even if some days i still feel guilty abt it, i know that this is the right thing 4 me and while it's been hard 2 adjust 2 living on my own when i wasn't given knowledge on basic skills i feel so much more free and so much happier than i ever did before, im still unpacking things of course even years later but it's starting 2 get easier and im slowly learning 2 b kind 2 myself i rly genuinely and sincerely hope that 1 day ur in a better place where u can start ur healing journey 2, im sorry ur not there just yet tho, i hope this was at least somewhat helpful, if nothing else 4 knowing that it can b okay, hopefully some of the tips help? completely understandable if that's not helpful rn tho and again im more than willing 2 delete this reblog if that's what u need, i get it, i've had ppl derail posts that were deeply personal 2 me and it sucks, ig i just wanted 2 give u some tips that might help and some hope that it'll b okay as some1 who's come out the other side, i hope u find ur happiness, whatever that looks like 4 u

mfw i take advantage of the fact my dad is in lovebomb mode to get 2 new t-shirts (all mine are grody). i would have tried for a new pair of shoes if i could find any i liked in my size. small wide feet L

also trying to convince him to get taco bell instead of chilis. i think it worked.

he is so going to hold today against me in the future. could be tomorrow. could be a month from now. but guess what dad you cant buy affection. helping your disabled young adult child met his basic needs is, in fact, the bare minimum.

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

Don't Come To Me Pt. 6.

Heyheyhey! New part is here, now with the one and only Frank.

Frank Castle X F!Reader, mentions of Billy Russo X F!Reader

Warnings: Language is all i think, no Billy this time srry

Summary: Reader and Frank have a little time together, sharing thoughts and feelings.

Taglist: @gwynethhberdara @icarus-isflying @intothesoul @malfoyeyes @padfooteyes @readers-posts

Part 5.

His eyes are sparkling in the overly annoying yellow light, giving them a mischievous glint with a hint of softness. A now constant half smirk plastering his freshly shaven face, his ear perked up by the scandalous tone of the drunk David. He is putting up a show, probably this is all the fun he got in the last year, and that could be the reason for Frank to just let it happen. Anyone could tell that he needs it too. He needs some laugh, some lighthearted banter, hugs and gentle touches. You tried your best to provide some relief, talk about nonsense, being physically close to him, offer him random snacks because you liked his deep laughter when you pulled out M&M's from your back pocket in ridiculous moments. Nothing can make you happier than those laughs. And the guilt eats you away for it. Every time you lay your eyes on Frank Castle, the whole wide world narrows down to one, to only one person, and it's him. Not the man who brings you roses, swears on his own life to keep you happy, rails you like no other man ever. Not Billy, but his best friend. The best friend who he thinks is long gone, buried six feet under.

"Where's your head at, Sweetheart?" Frank's face is full of curiosity, maybe some concern, he caught you zoned out like someone in hypnosis, you eyes blurry from staring into nothingness.

Before you could attempt to think about a good answer David appears next to you, an intoxicated smile on his face, eyebrow moving up and down in a teasing way.

"I bet you think 'bout pretty boy who is waiting for ya at home huh" The weirdness of David's drunken words are too funny to react any kind of way than laughing, so you just do that not escaping the awfully warm feeling on your cheeks. "Ohhhh i can see, i can SEE!" He yells the last letters as if he solved the mystery of the holy grail.

"Do not worry, i understand. He is really beautiful. Truly." He's gazing off into the distance, over your's and Frank's shoulder, over this little bunker, completely lost in his cloudy mind. You mutter a quiet 'okay', seeing how smitten is David with Billy's look.

When you turn to Frank again, thinking where you lost the conversation, his tense demeanor knocks out your thoughts again of your head. He's looking at David annoyed, wanting him gone, at least a couple feet so he can hum his radio pop songs away from the two of you. You can't blame him, you like David, but you get too little time with Frank these days. So you try to make the best out of those times.

Frank turns back to you, the same tension in his muscles, jaw locked tight, eyes furrowed. This is what people see when meeting the Punisher? They see a body built like a weapon, hardened face with no other emotion than rage? Little moments like this shows that side of him, the side he keeps at bay, neatly tucked away in front of you.

He softens up when his brown eyes finds their way back to yours. He looks at you puzzled, David's humming a Backstreet Boys song in the background making you smile at him, which he returns in defeat.

He pick up his mostly untouched glass of cheap whikey, gulping down half of it in an elegant way only he can manage in cargo pants and a plain stained t-shirt.

"Why don't you go home?" He asks, confusing you with it.

"What do you mean? You said you are free tonight." Your genuine confusion makes him smirk.

"C'mon Y/N. Don't tell me you don't wanna be with Billy. You should be at home with him." He states. You know he's right. You should be yearning for that. And still, you are out in the night, with two officially dead person deep in some corruption shit.

Your smile dies off, thinking about Billy. He texted you a couple hours back, when the night was young. You could hear his voice reading the message. He's working, he's gonna be late, can he call you when he's done for the day, can he come over, can he make love to you? Words dripping from honey, from love, from adoration, from obsession even.

"We can have time of our own, Frank. I still have a life ya know." You sound a little too cold, and he notices it right away. The discomfort flashing on your face when your thoughts consume you.

"What's wrong?" He asks, leaning his body forward, his eyes burning in fire. "What did he do?"

What did he do? Nothing if you are being honest. If someone is doing something wrong it's you.

"Frank, stop. Nothing, he did nothing, okay?" You try to soothe him, but his body stays put, leaning into your space, eyes still searching for the truth behind your words. "It's just..."

"What is it?" He's so eager to know. If it wasn't for the deadstare, you would think he's just hungry for gossip, for drama, for housewife secrets.

"It made me think. It's silly truly. Now i think about it before saying it, it's just so childish." You utter in one breath, looking wide eyed on the man in front of you. he did not loose interest, his focus is still on you and what are you about to say, despite the very much annoying David singing Beyoncé in the background. "It made me wonder. Why now? We did this cat and mouse game for years now, and it never changed. We never changed. I just..." You do sound a little paranoid. And in this moment as you say it out loud it sounds even more ridiculous. "Suddenly he wants to be with me, wants to have a life with me, wants me."

Frank doesn't seem to be uncomfortable, at least not like you imagined him talking about matters like your business of heart. His jaws painfully shut together, you can see him clutch his tooth together as he looks away from you.

"I know i said bad things about his ways back in the day, yeah? I know. But don't hold 'em against him. He's fucking right about loving you sweetheart okay? Don't think about it too much because it's tend to be real messy up there for you." You taps your temple gently, the touch giving you goosebumps all over your skin.

"Yeah yeah i know. I guess i wanted to see some sense in something that is far from making sense." You smile, your brain still ringing the alarms.

"Love works like that." He says with a halfhearted smile, eyes not leaving yours. A for a moment you just gaze into each others soul through wandering eyes. You didn't had time to think about Frank too much. Sure you had questions, had fears and scares when he showed up blooded and bruised, but everything was so blurred from the shock and joy you felt seeing him again when you already grieved the man.

You are so much older now, more mature, wiser. But your childlike crush for him stayed the same, and the first time in god knows how long the familiar nervousness in you tummy started again.

"I missed you, you know?" You blurt out, regretting it instantly, but you still show him a somewhat proper smile, shielding your face with your hair.

He moves closer face mere inches away, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling your head towards him. He connects your foreheads together gently, his warm palm stayin on your bare skin under your hoodie, thumb slightly caressing your pulsing skin.

"I've missed you too."