#sweetheart saturdays

[cherrymoonxx]

Sweetheart Saturdays Pick a Card:

A glimpse at your most intimate emotional moment with your future spouse

Choosing a pile:

Take a moment to connect with your body. Allow yourself to really feel. Focus on your breathing and clear your mind. Choose the pile that calls out to you.

Pile 1:

Candlelit nights, whispered promises, soft reassuring touches…

Welcome pile 1!

For you, I’m seeing a quiet evening. Your future spouse had planned a cozy night in, illuminated by candlelight. I’m seeing two people sitting comfortably on the floor, fire from the candles flickering ever so gently. It’s quiet, with the exception of the two hearts that are beating nervously in anticipation. You attempt to break the silence by making a small joke, hoping to ease some tension, but when you turn to look at your future spouse, you see the intensity in their eyes. Their eyes, focused solely on you. Urging you to see, to understand. So many truths hidden behind those eyes finally coming to light. And you had known, or at least had an inkling. Because you feel the same. But it’s too much in that moment. You start to look away, but they gently caress your face. Ripples of emotion enveloping you both. Their touch on your cheek quietly reassuring you. Any worries slowly starting to melt away. They start to shift closer to you, closing the space between you, stopping only inches from your face. Both hands now cupping your face. They take a moment to admire your features. Your hopeful eyes, the rosy tint on your cheeks, and your lips. Lips ready to be claimed. They smile tenderly. Knowing that they’ll finally reveal the truth you’ve been waiting to hear. And then they whisper those three little words for the first time.

Pile 2:

Silent tears, guarded hearts, can a kiss mend your heart?

Hello pile 2!

For you guys, I’m seeing an intense moment of vulnerability. This comes at a time when you’re running away from something. There’s some kind of anger and hurt involved. A heart afraid of being broken.

Your future spouse had made their intentions clear to you. Their loving words, gentle touches. The way their eyes never fail to light up when they see you and the way they’d pay attention to even the tiniest of details about you. You just knew. But knowing is too much. It’s too painful because you feel you do not deserve this. So you do what you think is best. You lie. Feelings locked away into the depths of your heart. Forcing yourself to be numb. And when they come see you, you lie. You lie when you tell them you never want to see them again. You lie when you say that you’d be better off without them. And you lie when you say that you never felt anything for them. The lies escape your lips continuously. And you hope that you were convincing enough, but your eyes betray your lips. The words gushing out of your mouth mean nothing when your eyes are brimming with tears. The truth quietly unfolding with every tear that cascades down your face. But the stupid tears won’t stop falling. Anger mixes with fear. A struggle to keep those feelings tucked away. Your vision blurs. You’ve lost your composure, any semblance of control completely gone. So many emotions overflowing. Embarrassment, anger, exhaustion. And you hate how vulnerable you feel in this moment. You think there’s no way your future spouse would willingly choose to be with someone that is capable of such hurtful words. You think you must look so pathetic. But when you look at them, their eyes hold no trace of judgment. Instead of leaving, they softly embrace you. Quietly soothing you, whispering reassuring words. Telling you that they know your words are not true. They know your words come from a place of fear. Fear of getting hurt. They understand your fears and they vow to support you in any way they can. And hearing those words only make the tears fall harder. Is it really okay to believe these comforting words? But your future spouse understands you so profoundly. They know how deep your wounds run and they are extremely patient with you. The night ends with you in their arms, spilling your inner most fears. Bearing your heart to them and them accepting it as their most precious gift.

Pile 3:

Longing gazes, gentle touches, a deep understanding between two souls.

Hello pile 3!

For you, I’m seeing an unexpected but welcomed moment. You and your future spouse had been together for a while, and everything had been a dream. You’ve never felt more secure, understood, and safe. They were a constant, grounding presence in the chaos of your life. Little by little, they had slowly made a home in your heart in a way you never thought anyone ever would.

I’m seeing that your future spouse is someone that has been through many hardships and because of that, they have a tough time talking about any problems they may have. They feel like they have to be strong and put on a brave face consistently. And while you admire their strength and their persistence, you wish that they’d let you in. You want to be able to help them when they’re having a tough time, much like they do for you. They do so much for you and they’ve helped you in a way that you will always be grateful for. But you also want to do that for them. To offer your support, be a shoulder to lean on. And this is a topic you’ve brought up a few times, but they kind of just tell you not to worry because they’re okay.

One particular night, the topic is brought up again and things get a little heated. You tell them that you feel this relationship has become a bit one sided. While you’re thankful for how much they take care of you, you feel like they neglect their own needs and never allow you to take care of them. You feel like you have bared your entire heart to them and yet, you feel like you don’t truly know them because they have never fully opened up to you.

“Do you think I don’t care about you?” “Do you not trust me?” “Why won’t you let me in?” These questions pouring out of you. But they just insist that they don’t want you to worry and that there’s nothing for them to say. And that makes you extremely frustrated. You ask them if they think this is how a relationship should be. One person holding all the burden? But they stay silent. You realize that they won’t budge, so before you say something you’ll regret, you leave.

And you guys don’t really talk for a few hours. It’s the first real fight you guys have had and it sucks. You just want to be a pillar of support like they are to you. And you don’t want to push them into anything they’re not comfortable with but you can’t help but feel inadequate. Like you’re not a good partner. And that hurts to think about.

You’re mind is too busy reeling from these thoughts that you just barely noticed when they slipped into bed with you. It’s quiet. None of you saying knowing what to say. But then they turn to you and whisper an apology. They explain how it’s always been difficult for them to ask for help, especially when it comes to their loved ones. They never want to feel like a burden to those they care about the most and even though they know that their feelings aren’t a burden, they can’t help feeling like they are. But seeing how they hurt you by how distant they were, they realized that they needed to make a change. You are the most precious part of their life and they couldn’t bear to lose you.

Hearing these words, you shift closer to them and quietly wrap them in your arms. You hold them tightly as they continue to express all the feelings they’ve been holding in. You wipe their tears as they begin to fall and gently give them reassuring kisses letting them know that they’re safe. You continue to soothe them as they talk for hours. The night is spent with them expressing their inner most thoughts/feelings and you comforting them.

That’s all for now! I hope you all enjoyed this reading💕 Until next time!

[slasheru]

There's now a permanent VOD of the Slasher U stream that Sweetheart Saturdays did!!! YES THIS IS THE ONE WHERE EVERYONE DOES VOICES FOR THE CHARACTERS. LOSING MY MIND RN :D

[alwaysurvalentine]

bad days are meant to be shared - st fic

Written for Day 10 of @steddieangstyaugust - prompt: "Where were you?" - word count: 3.7k - cw: some cussing, mentions of nausea but no vomiting (Steve Harrington centric, but Eddie saves the day)

enjoy! 💛

Working at Family Video is fine. It really is. It can be mindless but Steve doesn’t mind it, or at least he doesn’t mind when he wakes up feeling refreshed. Instead he got to wake up feeling groggy, a heaviness settling in his head that he knows can turn into a migraine if he isn’t careful. His heartbeat is already pulsing through his body but he figures the medicine he took this morning with his coffee should hold off the worst of it until Robin comes in. She’ll be able to talk to the customers and he can just focus on restocking the shelves and rewinding tapes. He’s just got to make it until 2. Only one hour to go until she walks in and so far it’s been pretty quiet for a Friday. Only one more hour and then he won’t have to answer the phone when it rings or-

Speaking of the phone, it starts to ring and he sighs. He wishes he didn’t have to answer, but would rather answer than listen to it continue to ring – acting like an ice pick to his brain.

“Thank you for calling Family Video, how can I help you?” 

“Steve! Hey!” Robin’s out of breath on the other end of the line and Steve can picture her wrestling jeans on while talking on the phone. “Can you do me a huuuuge favor? Can you please please cover for me today? Chrissy invited me out to the lake for a picnic!”

He knows he’s going to regret it, especially with how his head already feels, but he also knows she’s covered for him before. Plus, he’s been dying to tell her ‘I told you so’ about the whole Chrissy Situation (TM), since Robin refuses to believe the other girl likes her. Steve’s seen cheerleaders flirt, he knows what it means that Chrissy always finds a way to touch Robin in some way. Examples include bumping shoulders while they walk all the way to brushing Robin’s hair behind her ears – Steve swears she’s hopeless. The girl can figure out Russian in no time, but a girl flirting with her? Might as well be the nuclear codes. Though he thinks Robin could figure that out faster.

“Yeah, Robs. ‘Course I can.” His voice comes out more gruff than he intended, but the light from the front window is just hitting his eyes worse than it was before. The echo of his pounding heartbeat intensifies. There’s a small pause on the other end of the phone, damn Robin and her ability to read him. “Someone’s about to walk in – talk later?” 

“Sure, but Ste-” He hangs up. No one’s walking up to the store but Steve stands behind the register for a moment regardless. He crosses his arms on the counter in front of him and leans against them for a couple breaths. Now he’s got four hours to go before he can leave and no one to cover for him if this headache does become a migraine. Hopefully Hawkins will decide to go to the actual movie theater in town rather than coming in for a rental. Four hours until he gets to go home. Where he planned on cooking dinner for Eddie tonight, shit. His head throbs at the idea. No, it’ll be fine. He’ll make it through his shift, make dinner for Eddie, call Robin to ask about her date, clean up dinner, and then go to bed. Imagining his and Eddie’s bed, soft sheets and fluffy pillows gives him some hope; imagining Eddie’s arms around him when he falls asleep brings a small smile to his face. 

The bell attached to the front door rings and he sighs before standing straight, his customer service smile already painted on his face when he realizes it’s Dustin that’s walked through the door. As always, his curls are wild under his cap, and he’s wearing his green ‘Camp Know Where’ shirt. 

“Steve! Get this! So was messing around with my mom’s radio to see what parts I could use to make my own phonograph -” And the pulsing is back. Steve knows as long as he keeps on nodding every so often and places a couple ‘oh really?’s in there Dustin will carry this whole conversation on his own. Dustin’s mom is a saint, but Steve knows that sometimes her suggestions for ‘Dusty’ to get some air is to give her some time alone in the house. Which usually leads him to wherever Steve is or the rest of the Party – Steve seems to be the lucky winner today.

A family makes their way into the store, Mrs. Dawson and her two boys. Steve doesn’t remember their names but he eyes them as they race off to the cartoon section of the shelves. Mrs. Dawson sets down a couple movies in front of him on the counter, a grimace on her face. Her lipstick is a bright pink that almost hurts to look at. 

“Let me just pull up your account to get this squared away. Did you need help finding anything today?” His voice sounds plastic even to him, and distantly he can hear Dustin still talking about the pieces of the camcorder. What the hell is a beam splitter? Anyway – Amelia Dawson’s record shows the two movies on the counter, she’s turning them in on the last day before late fees but that’s fine. He checks that she’s returned them and goes to grab the cases (Robin Hood and Pete’s Dragon smile up at him from their plastic covers); now that he has his hands on them – are very sticky. Like dipped in caramel sticky. Luckily Mrs. Dawson’s attention is back on her boys who have decided to try and play tag in the aisles, uncaring of their elbows catching on movies at the end of shelves and leaving them to clatter on the floor. Steve fights a gag at the feeling and scoots the movies to the side of the counter, he can rewind them later. 

“So as I was saying, now I just have to get a couple of parts from Radio Shack and I should be able to record my own waves and see what they look like. If I can do that, then-” Steve tunes him out again, nodding along like he has any idea about what Dustin is talking about. Why does he need to see how words sound?

“Boys, come on now, we don’t want to keep daddy waiting – let’s go. Time for a late lunch.” Luckily, the twins – who he finally remembers are Michael and Matthew – take off towards the door at their mom’s words. Pushing at each other to see who’s going to get there first. The cardboard cut out for the month, Sigourney Weaver’s character from Aliens, falls to the floor in their wake but at least the store is noticeably quieter without them. Dustin asks to use the bathroom and Steve just nods as he rounds the counter. The movies that fell earlier get placed on the shelf and he makes a mental note to move them to the right places before he leaves today. He’s standing the cutout back up when he gets hit with a wave of nausea. He closes his eyes and slowly inhales, knows if he pukes now the rest of his shift will be absolute hell. With his eyes closed it’s a lot easier to hone in on the sounds of the fluorescent lights. Normally it’s a gentle buzz in the background, but today the lights seem to be doing their best impression of a drum line that just won’t quit. The nausea lessens and Steve glances at his watch. Just three hours left to go.

~

“Steve, what do you think?” Hazel eyes blink and Dustin comes into focus again, his eyes expectant. Steve knows he’s waiting for an answer to something but he genuinely has no idea what was just asked of him. Dustin’s eyebrows furrow slightly as the silence continues. Steve’s head is still throbbing and he can feel his heartbeat all the way down to his fingers. 

“What did you say?” 

Dustin huffs, rolling his eyes before repeating(?) his question. “I said, do you think that we can record the sound of silence as a sound wave? Because when it’s quiet your ears can make that ringing noise, do you think it’s quantifiable? And if it is, do you think there’s some kind of link to that sound to the part of the ear that is affected by deafness?”

Steve knows all of those words individually, but thinking of them in a sequence that makes sense to him right now is not happening. He even knows what Dustin means by the ringing noise, but he didn’t realize other people heard that too – thought that was just a him thing. Dustin must be able to tell he doesn’t have an answer because he crosses his arms. 

“Do you even listen to me when I’m talking?” Steve shouldn’t, especially with how riled up Dustin already appears to be, but he tunes him out again. Choosing instead to focus on the man walking through the door behind his friend. 

“Welcome to Family Video!” 

Distantly Steve wonders if Robin and Chrissy are having a good time at the lake, it’s been a sunny day. Probably hot enough to swim honestly. He feels bad for thinking it, but he hopes that Eddie’s bandmates are gone by the time he gets home. Normally he’d be fine with them at the apartment since they help bring out the best in Eddie, but he knows that they can also get pretty loud, especially if they’re messing with their instruments. He still needs to reorganize the shelves and rewind a couple films before the end of his shift. The thought of dinner makes his stomach turn and he wishes he could just go to bed once he gets home. But tonight’s his turn to cook, him and Eddie switching off days to make sure no one’s cooking all of the time. 

“Excuse me?” A hand snaps in front of his face, bringing his attention to Mr. Jameson’s annoyed face. “Can you check me out or not? I don’t see anyone else here.” His words bite and Steve silently nods. Glancing at the title before looking up his name in the system. The screen is blurry and all the words look like one long dark line across the screen. 

“Sorry, sir. Your total is-” before Steve could finish a five dollar bill was placed on the counter. “Okay, your change is $3.50. Here you-”

“No, you owe me four dollars back. Not $3.50. This is why I normally have that girl check me out. You’d think you’d know how much to charge by now.” 

“No sir, it’s 50 cents per day, and typical rental time is three days. So that’s $1.50 which makes your change $3.50.” The change sits in Steve’s hand, two quarters pinched between his index finger and thumb. Mr. Jameson stares him down, eyes filled with anger, and Steve’s over it. Whatever, he’s got 5o cents in his car that he can put in the drawer to make it balanced later. He pops open the drawer and pulls out another dollar, dropping the quarters back into their slot. Four dollar bills are snatched from his hand and Mr. Jameson grunts before stomping out the door. 

“Steve? What the hell? You’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” Dustin’s voice is shrill when he talks, getting higher near the end, and Steve just breaks.

“Please shut up.” Dustin’s mouth closes with a snap, a look of hurt on his face. Steve wants to say more, explain that having his eyes opens hurts and that he can’t be bothered with customers who don’t know how to be decent; can’t be bothered with remembering what parts of the radio and camcorder and VCR player Dustin took apart for his personal project. He wants to explain that he really needs to put a cold compress on his head and lay down in the pitch black silence of his room for a few hours to be human again. 

None of this makes its way out of his tense jaw though and Dustin must decide he’s done with Steve for the day because he says nothing before turning and making his way towards the door. Fuck.

~

The last two hours of Steve’s shift passes in a blur. Someone tries to call the phone and instead of answering he covers his ears until the ringing stops and then unhooks it from the receiver. A couple of girls try fluttering their eyes at him to see what his weekend plans are but all he can think about is how he’s going to get through dinner with Eddie, and they finally leave with a disappointed glance at each other. 

Finally, he’s able to turn the open sign around – and then he remembers he never organized the movies from earlier. He fixes the shelves by dwindling sunlight, having shut off the overhead lights as soon as he could. It takes him about 30 minutes to fix it all, pausing every so often to just stand with his eyes closed. The words have lost their meanings and he hopes that basing his sorting off of the cover pictures is good enough.

Sitting in his car is the most relief Steve’s gotten all day. Eyes closed behind sunglasses he had clipped on his visor and the engine off he takes the time to breathe; the nausea has been coming and going on its own in waves and he almost wishes he could just go to sleep in his car. Getting back to the apartment is only possible through muscle memory and the knowledge that dinner still has to be made. He waits another few minutes in the car, trying to decide if any of the cars outside are of the band’s, or if he’s officially got Eddie all to himself. For the first time today he feels lucky when he doesn’t see Jeff’s car. 

Living on the second floor has its benefits, like not having upstairs neighbors and getting lots of natural sunlight for the apartment. It also has its downsides, like carrying heavy groceries in the heat and getting up to their door in one piece when a migraine has him by the throat. Even his key turning in the lock makes him cringe, clenching his teeth together as he steps in. It’s quiet in the apartment, a certain stillness in the air that Steve appreciates. He toes off his shoes, setting his keys in the little ceramic bowl El gifted him and Eddie when they moved, and then bends to straighten his shoes to the wall. Bending does not help his nausea and he swallows down a gag. 

“Stevie, honey? You make it home?” Eddie rounds the corner, a grin already on his face. His hair rests on his shoulders, frizzy curls around his head like a halo. Steve musters a small smile at Eddie, closing the distance between them with a few steps. The shirt Eddie’s wearing is well worn, old enough now that the words on the front have faded into the black around them and the collar is stretched out enough that Steve can almost see the top of a spider’s leg.

“Hey, hungry?” Normally Steve matches Eddie’s energy as best he can, but he can already feel his energy draining again. Should’ve sat in the car for a little while longer. He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek and continues his path to the kitchen. 

“You read my mind. You okay with cooking while I finish up some stuff before dinner? I promise you’ll have me all to yourself once food is ready. Just have some chords to figure out after talking with Gareth about some timing stuff.” Steve hopes Eddie’s looking when he nods because all of the movement from the stairs has caught up to him and he doesn’t think he has it in him to speak right now. 

Alone in the kitchen Steve just breathes. Almost done. Just have to brown the meat, toss it into some sauce and make the noodles. Easy. 

~

All of the ingredients are sitting on the counter when Steve finally loses the battle with his nausea and darts to the bathroom. He keeps the lights off, more focused on kneeling on the tile and trying to breathe through his gagging. A few minutes go by and he’s able to take a full breath in – just sitting down has taken the edge off. The darkness of the bathroom is more than welcome, he just wishes he wasn’t crouched over in his jeans still. Soft footsteps sound from the hallway heading towards the kitchen, guess Eddie finished his stuff.

“Stevie? Where’d you go?” As much as he’d love to answer, the effort it would take to yell for Eddie isn’t worth it right now so instead Steve leans against the tub, coolness spreading across his back. Another moment passes and Eddie rounds the corner to the bathroom, confusion on his face.

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

Three words and the dam holding Steve together just, breaks. His head pounds worse when the tears start but he can’t stop now that he’s started. Today sucked. And now his night’s going just as poorly. Can’t even get dinner made. Eddie’s still looking at him but he can’t make out his expression through the tears blurring his vision. 

“Okay, alright, come here.” And then Eddie’s kneeling on the ground, arms outstretched for Steve to lean in to. As soon as he leans in, he’s crumpling into Eddie’s arms. 

~

Steve’s not sure how long they sit there, him crying into Eddie’s shirt, but the collar is nice and damp by the time he pulls away.Disgusting.

“As much as I love this surprise cuddle session, wanna tell me what’s going on?” He knows Eddie doesn’t mean to, but the sound of his boyfriend’s voice almost seems to echo in the bathroom. Steve shakes his head and whines, tries to burrow further into Eddie – done with pretending. His head hurts and his whole body feels heavy like concrete. Right now the best thing in the world is having his eyes shut, head tucked into Eddie’s neck, and having his back rubbed. Without an answer though, Eddie leans back, staring at Steve hard like he’s going to hear the answer if he thinks at Steve hard enough. 

“Head.” Just one word takes a herculean effort and Steve watches as recognition lights in Eddie’s eyes. Finally. And then Steve blinks long and slow. 

~

When Steve cracks his eyes open again he’s greeted by the wall of his and Eddie’s bedroom instead of the white of the bathroom. His head is still pounding but at least it’s dark in here, the curtains are drawn and he has a feeling even if they were open only the moon would greet him. He knows Eddie’s not currently in the room because the air feels still, and distantly he thinks he can hear movement in the kitchen. 

Shit, dinner. He was supposed to cook dinner tonight. He hears the small creak of the door opening and he shuts his eyes again – he’s not ready to see or talk to Eddie yet. Embarrassment heats his face remembering how much he cried earlier, not that Eddie hasn’t seen him in worse states. But Steve Harrington taken down by a simple headache? Stupid. Can’t even contribute to the house like Eddie. Can’t keep up with Dustin when he talks. Can’t be happy for his best friend when she lands a date. 

“Hey, baby. Gotta wake up, I want you to take some medicine and drink some water.” A gentle hand is on Steve’s calf, rubbing slightly to ‘wake’ him. He burrows deeper into the blankets instead of rolling over.

“Baby…” And now Eddie just sounds disheartened, another person Steve needs to apologize to. Eddie first, for crying for no reason. Then Dustin for not listening to his rant. Then Robin for not being more excited for her. “Medicine and then water, then you can sleep some more. Come on.” 

“I’m sorry.” Steve rolls over, tugging the blanket with him . He’s miserable and can’t think of anything better than sleep. Tomorrow he can make it up to Eddie; make him breakfast, do the laundry, make a grocery list, ask him how handing out with the guys went, check in about -

“-vie, I need you to focus for just a couple minutes. Where do you keep going? Get out of that head of yours, can’t imagine it’s helping your migraine.” The words are whispered and Steve blinks at Eddie. Brown eyes meet his and he manages a small smile. 

“Sorry.”

“No need for all that. If you’d listened the first time you’d know I don’t mind. I love getting to take care of you. I love you. Stop worrying about whatever it is, there’s nothing you need to make up for – so no more apologies.” Eddie’s so earnest when he talks, a smile on his face causing small dimples to form. He’s holding a glass of water in one hand and a couple of pills in the other, but it’s the damp washcloth Steve can see draped on his wrist that brings a tear to his eye. Doesn’t matter if Eddie never said those three words again, his actions say them enough. Damp wash cloths when Steve’s head hurts, standing up for Steve when one of the kid’s decides they don’t want to explain a reference they make, or even when he flashes him a knowing smile behind Robin’s head when she’s talking about Chrissy. He’s full of love, and no matter how much Steve might feel like he’s messed up – he knows Eddie’s got enough love for him too.

“Hey, why are we crying? Sit up and take these.” With a small sniffle Steve nods, sits up, and takes the medicine. The washcloth is cool on his skin where Eddie rests it, letting him burrow back into the blankets – and the last thing he feels is a gentle kiss to his cheek before sleep takes him again. 

[stygabbs]

ꔫ ˚ ˖ my valentine . ׁ ♡

-` @7hyein ♡ ´-

[only-my-life]

Catch the last rays of sunshine before winter sets in 🌞

[frnkiebby]

what’s that fuckin face frankie~🎃

[shizunitis]

Oh mark you're taking this the wrong way. I consider you as the binghe I'll never get to meet. In my eyes, you're the embodiment of binghe himself because you remind me so much of him.

I am well aware that the svsss binghe will never be able to read or know how much love I have for him so I wrote it to you because in my eyes, you're Binghe. Its for you too.

Yours truly,

xxxxx

hm. mm. i guess i can forgive you... you're very cool and nice and whatever... actual svsss binghe would love and defend and fight for you or SOMETHING

[shaun-evans-fanblog]

This is our real fella.

[bish0ps]

[un-pearable]

just need to make it to saturday just need to make it to saturday . SATURDAY

[cherryblossom-chopper]

》In Danger《

Content: Zoro Fluff. Ambiguous Reader.

���———— ୨୧ —————

Zoro’s heart pounds in his chest, sweat slicks his bare chest, and sticky blood stains his cheek. Adrenaline rang in his ears as his calloused hands gripped his sword. A sick, pleased grin curls onto his face at the sound of a defeated opponent.

Sheathing his sword, Zoro's gaze swept his surroundings. The rubble and dust littering the scenery were the results of his recklessness. Such things didn’t concern him all that much; however, it just made finding his way back to the ship more difficult.

Huffing in irritation, Zoro picks a direction at random. He haphazardly treads past his unmoving opponent and toward what he hopes is the Thousand Sunny.

An ear-piercing shriek cuts through the air causing Zoro’s head to jerk up. He tilts his head to pop his neck.

“Nami and Usopp must’ve gotten caught again,” he muses to no one in particular. Those two dorks always needed saving, which was fine by him.

Despite how easily he got lost, the call of combat always seemed to guide his heart. Anticipation churns in his gut as Zoro makes his way over the mound of concrete.

At the rumble mounds peak, Zoro surveys his surroundings. He squints down toward where another distress call is coming from. All his muscles tense, and his jaw clenches together as he spots someone. Zoro shakes his head.

Surely that couldn’t be you down there. Indeed, your frame was getting their ass kicked, and the cries for help sounded like you.

An instinctual growl escapes him as his body moves on its own. His hands snatch the hilts of his blades; the gleam of the metal in the sunlight was the only warning his new targets would ever get, that and the crunching of debris under his boots.

The crunch of bones and groan of surprise from his victims was more than satisfying to Zoro. Though such sweetness was soured as he glanced over his shoulder to a harrowing sight.

Your face is bruised, and your lip spits with blood staining your chin. A thick arm holding you in a headlock. You struggle to elbow the combatant in the gut to get free.

“Zoro,” you wheeze, reaching out to him. Finally, back up came, and finally, Zoro came. You gasp as your body is wanked into the air in front of the masked assailant, using your frame to shield his own.

Baring his teeth, Zoro points his sword toward your chest. “Let ‘em go,” he orders; his fingers are itching for violence, but he’d never put your life at risk.

The assailant pulled you closer, squeezing around your throat tighter. You can hear the ever-wordless attacker breathing heavily behind his animal-painted mask. His arm trembles with nerves or effort.

You struggle and jerk in your confinement, your eyes pleading to Zoro for help. Your lungs burn as your air comes in short gasps. One of your hands reaches out to him as if you could just get ahold of your partner; everything would be alright. Salty tears blur your vision as you struggle.

He didn’t show on his face, but a sickening feeling churned in Zoro’s stomach. This chump would be no real challenge for Zoro, but he’d never wish to risk his partner’s life. Damn it.

“If you let (Name) go, I’ll spare your life,” Zoro snarls, readjusting the grip on the handle of his blade.

You feel the stranger pause, his grip slackening. You take the opportunity to slam your elbow into his abdomen. The man gasps as if the wind has been knocked out of him. You scramble out of his grip towards Zoro when you feel him double over.

The prideful grin returns to Zoro’s face as he takes the opportunity to charge your attacker. He does not spare them. He doesn’t grant mercy to someone who’d dare lay a finger on you.

When he turns to look at you, Zoro’s features soften. He wipes the blood on his cheek with the back of his hand as he returns to your side.

“You came,” you say, grabbing onto his arms. You nearly collapse into him.

An amused breath comes from him as Zoro takes in your features. “Course I came. If you’re in danger, I’ll be there. " Don’t be so stupid next time,” he says, his thumb wiping stray tears from your cheeks.

“It was hardly a fair fight,” you scoff, your eyes feeling heavy, “I could’ve beaten them if they didn’t ambush me.”

Zoro embraces you, pulling you into his chest. “I’m sure you could’ve, little firecracker,” he muses, then scoops you up into his arms.

You give a half-hearted struggle and protest. “You don’t need to carry me,” you insist, “My legs aren’t broken.”

“Too bad,” Zoro says nonchalantly, smiling, “I need you to be my compass,” His grip on you was firmer but not painful.

You pat Zoro’s cheek with your palm and lean your head against his shoulder. His warmth melts your aching muscles, and his steady breath soothes your heart. His body was a wall muscle that provided an undeniable sense of safety. You’d only need to call out if you were in danger, and he would save you.

————— ୨୧ —————

Want to keep up with your favorite characters? Join my tag list to be notified as soon as I post something new!

🏷: @kristaline2dmensimp @vemuabhi @cjm-cookiethief @cipher-p0 @undercoverweeb @aykxz98 @Ryzio @lavenderkaye106 @chimooky @bolinhodadestruicao @chocolate-n-cheese @quatribobo @slurp-imagines @ibby-miyoshi-nerd @smallhybridart @sabospet @ochizokulevy @buggy.d.clown @lyriczhou @dosfleur @gaby-chwan

[cherrymoonxx]

Sweetheart Saturdays💕

Hello everyone! In honor of the upcoming “love”(Valentine’s) season, I thought it’d be nice to do something fun!

In the month of February, I’ll be posting either a love related pick a card reading or offer a love related ask game every Saturday. I’ve got some ideas cooking and I’m excited to share them with you all!

Please stay tuned! I’ll be posting the first reading on Saturday February 1st🩷

[slasheru]

Missed the Sweetheart Saturdays stream?? You can watch the vod anytime!! Spoilers: THEY DO VOICES. I REPEAT. VOICES ARE INVOLVED.

[villa-kulla]

Those more techy than me will trim the video I’m sure, but the commentary over Lalo’s shower scene did NOT disappoint...Patrick asking them to pause here saying “look at that. look at that”, and then faux-casually asking “So...Tony in the shower...how many-how long-how was that, did it take a long time?” (stammering included for emphasis). This prompted a deserved chorus of cast/crew cat-calling including but not limited to: “another take!” “more soap!” “flick your hair back, tony!” and “lather that boy up”

Anyway. (x)

[mrbexwrites]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! What’s the nicest thing you’ve written in for a character?

I've had feedback from beta readers that I don't have my characters reflect on nice/beautiful/peaceful moments. So I'm trying to make a conscious effort to be less of a cruel narrator!

Because of that feedback, that helped me realise that I was pretty much focusing on the bleaker side of life, I'm trying to be more mindful of writing in softer moments for my characters.

The nicest thing I think I've done for someone, is to give Anton cats. He's a hulking brute, built like a brick sh*thouse, who can crush your skull with his hands. But he's a secret softie who is an absolute cat-dad. His whole house has been converted to provide every comfort and luxury to his fur babies.

He's a demon who is over two hundred years old, who breeds cats and takes them to cat shows to show them off.

He has a kill-list as long as your arm, but he will stop to pspspsps at kitties and they love him.

I like to think that, despite everything I've put him through, Anton appreciates the softer side of him that I've written for him.

[ohmygillygoshoppler]

I love the way you draw Zak. More people should draw him with locks since I think that fits his design. Do you have any headcanons about Kur? Like, do you think he was actually evil or is his real story lost to time? Personally I see Kur as a more complex figure, but still sharing some of Zak’s core traits (ex: genuinely caring about cryptids).

Listen;

Listen, listen, listen-

Kur is Zak, and vise versa. We've covered this. And Gods grow and change just like the planet they live on. I looooove theology, and thats a bit of a pattern i've noticed; Gods changing or merging and this this that and the other.

Maybe Kur is tied in with a location like the Underworld for a reason. I'm no expert on Sumerian mythos, but I know how we play with gods and demigods and the likes.

Zak is a wonderful boy; depressed, and in desperate need of a good therapist (meow) but he has that Boy God in him still. I know for a fact that he holds himself back, too. Fights his own demons. He even told his mom as much when she tried to kill that stupid fucking ape- So I think if he was a little messed up, would that be so bad? How could he protect that which he holds dear without just a little bit of evil?