#this man exists in my brain all day and I can’t escape him

[goferwashere]

rggghrhfhdhdjjfj

[guiltyasdave]

peace

character: Oberyn Martell

word count: ~1.4k

tags/warnings: sooooo much angst, death, gore (you guys know how oberyn died)

a/n: i have NOTHING to say for myself. this is pure pain, i cried several times while writing it. created for @perotovar's amazing offering of frith challenge (thank you for the moodboard!!), pairing oberyn with freyja. i know nothing about norse mythology, so if any of this makes zero sense, i am so so sorry.

the biggest shoutout to @sizzlingcloudmentality who basically came up with the whole idea because my brain wasn't braining at all. thank you for holding my hand through this and for always cheering me on <3 this wouldn't exist without you.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs and turn on notifications to be the first to know about fic updates and find my full masterlist here!

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

Darkness engulfs him. Chaos still echoes around his head, but it’s quiet now. 

He cannot open his eyes. Why can’t he open his eyes? Where there was pain, sharp and biting, is nothing now. 

His armor sticks to his skin, drenched in sweat. His face is just as sticky. Wrong, somehow. Why can’t he open his eyes? 

He doesn’t know how he got here. Where here even is. Has he gone back to Sunspear? It’s much too cold. Why can’t he remember? 

The stone under his feet is hard, rough against his bare soles. A shiver runs through his body. 

Soft pressure lands on his shoulder, the touch light as a feather. A hand. 

“Him.” 

A woman’s voice, just as feathery, a soft melody that rings through the darkness surrounding him. A faint echo follows her words. Where is he? 

“Prince Oberyn.”

Her breath is soft against his ear, her hand still resting on his shoulder. 

“Where am I? Who are you?” 

At least his voice doesn’t betray him. Still strong, still used to commanding a room, leaving no doubt that he’s worthy of being heard. 

A quiet laugh sounds as she’s leaning in closer. Her lips ghost over his earlobe.

“You will see.” 

Her fingers trace his, such soft touches against the ridges of his scarred, calloused ones. They intertwine, and he lets her lead him, searching his way through the darkness. Why can’t he open his eyes?

She hums, a somber, pensive note. 

“You do not remember.”

No. 

The faint echo of her footsteps falls quiet beside him. “Let me show you.”

The touch of cool fingertips ghosts over his temples. His eyes remain closed, out of his reach, but images fill his head regardless.

The bright blue sky, the sun burning down on him. Sweat clinging to his skin. The spear in his hand, coated in blood. The rage running through his veins, the bittersweet taste of vengeance on his tongue. The opportunity to seek justice, finally. 

He had been thinking of his sister, laughing together when they were kids, running through the gardens. Then watching her leave. The hope shining in her eyes the last time he saw her, hugged her. 

The shout of Say her name! Say it! still heavy on his tongue, when the world tipped upside down, his body moving too quickly, until his back hit the hard stone ground. 

The sickening crunch, reaching his ears before the pain registered, before his head got caved in. The confession he had been waiting for, fighting for— now meaningless, drowned out by the overwhelming pain, as the world went dark. 

The last thing he hears is Ellaria’s scream, piercing through him. Today is not the day I die. Aching fills his heart, heavy, weighing him down. He thinks of her, of all the promises he made, now to be broken. He thinks of his daughters. He wasn’t ready to leave. 

A sob escapes him, his fists clenching at his sides. The woman’s fingers rake through his hair gently. 

“Why am I here?” He hadn’t noticed before, but speaking doesn’t feel right either. 

“I have been watching you your whole life, Prince Oberyn.” She sighs. Dreamily, almost. “A man both fighting and loving so fiercely. You reminded me of myself.”

Gently tugging at his hand, she leads him further into darkness. Darkness, because his eyes are no longer there. 

“When great warriors die, they come to me. To fight for me. That is why you are here.”

His feet come to a halt. 

“How can I fight for you, when I cannot see? I am no longer the great warrior that you have been watching.”

Her melodic, soft laughter echoes around them. “You will always be a great warrior. Do not worry.” 

He’s led to what she calls his chambers, where she leaves him at the door, her footsteps slowly floating away. He still can’t use his eyes, uncertain how to find his way, but he can still feel her there, in the back of his head. Leading him, even without seeing. 

Inside, he paces, circling just like the thoughts in his head. He had never paid much thought to the afterlife. Had always thought it was a long lifetime away. Had never imagined it like this. 

At night, sleep evades him. The screaming echoes in his ears, the images of his last moments are seared into his memory now, finding a permanent home at the forefront of his mind. Everything he was, everything he took pride in, has gone up in flames. He is nothing, now. 

When the woman returns, the question of why bursts from his lips. 

“Because you are special, my prince. You always have been.” A smile, invisible to him, paints her voice. “I have always liked beautiful things. I have always wanted you. I have been waiting for you your whole life.”

A laugh tumbles from him, unbelieving, humorless. 

“There is nothing special about me now. Or beautiful.”

For the first time, there is an edge in her tone. 

“Do not question me, Prince Oberyn.”

Time doesn’t pass the way it used to. He’s uncertain if it’s the permanent darkness engulfing him, or just the nature of this place. 

He learns how to fight again, learns how to rely on his hearing. It comes to him easily, a whisper of always a great warrior in the back of his head. He might even enjoy the challenge it presents, might enjoy the grim satisfaction it brings him. The realization that some part of him might not be entirely lost. Still, it never drives out the darkness. 

When his mind isn’t occupied, it always comes back to haunt him. Ellaria still screams in his head. He still sees his girls, wonders what they are doing. Hates himself for not being there to witness it. He sees Elia. Sees the hope draining from her eyes. He even sees Tyrion, the fate he has condemned him to.

He has failed them, all of them. Sometimes, when the darkness isn’t threatening to drown him, he understands what the woman saw in him, but that man is long gone. The longer he’s here, the more he understands what she means, talking about how he’s just like her. He had been, once. The companion that she must have wished for, but that he cannot be.

She requests his presence often, an honor, he’s certain, but it’s draining him. Everything about her reminds him of who he was, of all the things that are long lost now. 

One night he awakes with a start, the images in his head familiar by now, but the terror they leave him in never lessening. There’s nothing but darkness in his mind, nothing but darkness behind his eyes, nothing to chase the devastation away. 

He has never been to her chambers before, doesn’t know which path to take, but once again, it’s as if she’s in his head, guiding his way. The door opens before he has the chance to knock, her presence filled with the same heaviness as his own. 

She greets him, her voice a sad song in his ears. She already knows, there is no way that she doesn’t. He speaks regardless, has to get the words out. 

“Let me go on, I beg you.” His voice cracks. “Let me find my peace.”

She’s quiet for a long time, nothing but her trembling breaths breaking the silence. 

“I know. It was selfish of me to keep you.”

Her voice is thick with tears, her touch gentle at his temples, ghosting over where his eyes used to be. Her fingertips are cold against his skin. 

There is something else, something shifting under his skin, something smooth like glass, where he got used to nothing. 

“Open your eyes, Prince Oberyn.”

It’s a movement, a sensation that he had almost forgotten, but when he does, when he sees, everything is tinted in amber. He lays eyes on the woman for the first time, on the tears in a slightly darker shade that are spilling from her eyes. They are coating her fingers that are still outstretched towards him. 

She smiles the most beautiful, saddest smile, one that aches to look at. There’s a final caress of his cheek, a whispered Go on, my prince. 

Like a tether has been loosened, he feels himself fading, drifting away into nothingness. 

Finally, he is at peace.

...i'll just see myself out (if you liked this, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day though <3)

[zylian]

I have SO many thoughts about everything but my brain is mush… so speedrun time !

——Spoke——

omg just zam picking him over minute cause he wasn’t thinking about skill but rather trust and reliability which is wild and than him being bewildered by spoke going crazy omg love them and the s2 ref cause they were so silly

the way they track the other and oddly understand what the other is saying, it’s super simplified with them and limited words which is usually spot on plus them being nice to the other and oh it’s so hard for both of them, zam gritting his teeth when he’s brought up but infront of him he was genuine and spoke barely could match it without losing it and zam just laughed at him struggling to be nice- oh spoke and zam are both insane for that, zam who can match his insanity even if it’s bitter and spoke matching his niceness only to throw up a bit

Like them addressing the other in this day of s6!?!?! crazy crazy CRAZY!!!!! also win for me! Omfg I will not be shutting up about spokes immediate chaos and zam addressing while going along but never dwelling on it omg omg omg them

——Mapic——

him asking zam to trust him, which where did the word trust come from- that and especially in the scenario when zam gave up all hope for escaping flame, like it was pure silence and focus and zam not thinking twice as he listened to mapics instructions which ultimately got him out alive

the potential thoughts in mapics head of him having nothing to save minute so he had to ask zam who also had nothing but zam still tried and was going to die for it, man mapic cares so fkn much and the way everyone is always so ticked zams with the empire but really they say that cause of mapic and holy not to forget about mane not thinking he could take mapic and zam both in a 1v2 cause they actually play as a team helping the other tremendously ugh I love team fights

also zam getting told by bacon and now kab that mapic cares for him so much it’s insane and zam still struggling to accept that omfg, this guy trusts mapic so much but can’t see that mapic trusts him insanely high like zams ready to die for him and in Ls dying for someone is a higher honour of trust and loyalty than protecting > helping > neutral not killing

if mapic ever addresses zams existence in lore to anyone in game omg I would go insane cause how do you explain his trust to a guy who isn’t teamed or allied or doesn’t even have the same morals and to top it off lent him hearts and asked him to save your teammate multiple times DUDE

——Kab——

her having the hardest mental battle and breaking from care and everyone around her being mean except zam and zam never gave up to hate her and now she has to accept him being kind to her omg

such a sad rabbit bonking her head against a tree and the fact she willingly was bait and lived twice and lended 5 hearts omfg her heartbeat was probably through the roof

oh and her staying teamed with wemmbu to keep him out of the mane situation, totally forgot about that

————ok that’s all rn !————

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

Y’all ready for Miguel to finally kiss (Y/N)’s ass??!?!?!? Not proofread enjoy lol, I had a lot of fun writing this. I tried to be a bit artsy near the end it it’s too cringe I’ll probably delete it and redo it lmao.

Cursing, Miguel finally getting his shit together, lol he’s ooc but it’s okayyy lol

(Y/N)- Your name, (L/N)-Last name, (N/N)-Nickname.

Word count: 2.1k

Series Masterlist Series Playlist

Chapter 12: What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way

—

You hated to admit it, but you kind of missed throwing away those stupid little apology notes from Miguel. Oddly enough, they had stopped appearing on your desk the day after your last little “date” with Spider-Man. Though you doubt there was any correlation, you couldn’t help but wonder why all of a sudden he would stop after what was about two or three weeks of nothing but notes after notes of apologies.

“He probably realized that you aren’t going to forgive him and decided to finally give up.” Mj’s voice sounded through your phone speaker, lying next to you as you laid on your stomach on top of your bed. Checking over your new manicure you had just received that morning, before letting out a huff as you dramatically dropped your head down on the mattress.

“Can we stop bringing him up? I don’t need reminders of his existence, not like I didn’t have enough reminders before…” You grumbled, you're sure if she was there with you she’d roll her eyes at your theatrics.

“I feel like we talk too much about you two.” She teased, the end of her sentence trailing off in a chuckle.

“Yeah because now that you're dating Peter, I can’t tease you about how you act like a nervous wreck around him anymore.” You shot back, picking your head back up and raising your brow, your smirk evident in your tone.

“Don’t be bitter that I got a boyfriend before (N/N), I’m sure spidey will ask you soon enough.” Your cheeks flared as your best friend tease, despite you starting it first you couldn’t help but feel yourself becoming a bit more shy at the mention of Spider-Man. You know not to take it to heart though as you let out a small laugh.

“Hey aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for that date right now.” You point out, having remembered that she mentioned to you during your last class together that Peter was planning on taking her to some movie after his photography club.

“Oh shit- you’re right! I got to go, I’ll text you later!”

“Okay bye have fu-aaaand she hung up, welp.” You drop your head on your bed once more after grabbing your pillow to place underneath you. Deciding taking a nap would be better than spending the next few hours doing something else, too tired from school to even attempt to watch a movie or tv show, let alone read or do homework. A sigh escapes through your nose, closing your eyes as you snuggle against the pillow, waiting to succumb to your own exhaustion. The white noise of your air conditioner running in the background lulling you to sleep.

—

“Maybe this is too on the nose…” Miguel mumbled to himself as he glanced down to the wrapped item in his hands, trying to compose himself as he stands in front of your dorm room, gathering the courage to knock.

It was almost embarrassing, that he was going to grovel at your doorstep in order to get you to even look at him again. He was already bruising his ego enough with the countless apology notes that you didn’t even bother to glance at for longer than a second before tossing them, let alone read. Still despite his… complicated feelings towards you, he’d rather you bruise his ego then anyone else.

His eyes came back to stare at your room number that was etched into your door, before nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

You were a smart girl, a very smart girl. Miguel knew that. So he knew he was potentially playing with fire with his apology gift, he knew more than anyone else how your brain worked, he knew that you could take one glance at it and all the pieces would fall in place. He just hoped that for one, he would wave away any suspicions that you might come up with. Worst case scenario you outright declare him as Spider-Man, but then what? You weren’t one to tell secrets, you weren’t money or fame hungry so you weren’t going to go off and tell the media for a check.

Miguel shook his head, trying to shake away all the possibilities that were now coming to the forefront of his mind. Close his eyes to take in deep breath before opening to them once again to stare at your door.

‘If I keep thinking about it, I’ll end up walking away, just knock damnit.’

Finally, with a sharp exhale through his nostrils, he brings up his enclosed fist to tap lightly on your door. The edge of lips pulling downward after not getting any confirmation that you heard his knocking. After another louder knock, his ears finally picking up the faintest of annoyed groans, making his tensed shoulders slip down just a few centimeters.

Miguel thanked whatever dumb constructor decided to not give the ancient dorm building doors peepholes, because if they did, he knew you wouldn’t have opened the door for him. That’s why he stuck his foot out to act as a stopper, preventing you from closing it in his face once you realized who had decided to interrupt your short lived nap.

What a relief to be able to see your face up close with the mask on to counsel his. Despite the fact that your fake polite smile quickly melted away from your face once you realized who was at your doorstep, leaving a scowl to come and take its place. Miguel barely had time to open his mouth before your frame was once again covered by the wooden door, his school assigned leather shoes certainly getting scuffed from it hitting the side of them. Not even wincing as you attempted to push his foot out with resting your weight against the door.

“(L/N), Come on. It’s been weeks, you can’t keep ignoring me. Just… I-I know I fucked up okay? You were trying to be civil with me and I… Look I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry.” His free hand came up and pushed against the door lightly, not enough to knock you off your balance or anything but enough to peak his head through the door to meet your glare once more. “You know more than anyone else that I don’t do serious apologies. Just hear me out. You’ve-You’ve already got me begging here (L/N), to just be in the same room with you so I can admit I’m an asshole. You don’t have to forgive me, just hear me out! Please-“

He was able to squeeze himself through the crack of the door, closing it before him and leaning against it as he attempted to catch his breath from his babbling, chest raising up and down rapidly as his pleading eyes turned a bit more intense, you took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest, letting out an irritated huff as you kept your eyes on him.

“Get out O’Hara-“

“I’m tired of you ignoring me, what do you want me to do, huh!? You and I are too intertwined into each other’s lives for you to ignore me forever. You know that-“

“Unfortunately.” You grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes a bit. Miguel, now standing up straight, took a step towards you, a hand flying to his chest as usually narrowed and bored eyes suddenly turned wild and frantic almost like a confused puppy.

“I-“ he paused, letting out a huff, before lowering his voice down to just above a whisper. “I’m not going to leave until you listen to me please just-“ He stutters, taking another pause as his eyes flutter shut tightly, you haven’t even noticed that his eyes were turning glossy and red until he opened them again, had you ever seen Miguel cry before? Well if you hadn’t, this might be a first for you both. “Please (Y/N).”

The use of the first name between you both was rare, you had been in more near death situations then you’ve heard your first name uttered from Miguel’s lips. So hearing it with such… desperation… it made your heart jump up to your throat. Your eyes never leaving his as he took another step towards you and… oh my god… is he kneeling?

“Please I-“ He choked out, the wetness that was threatening to spill out from the corner of his eye finally came down, his hands reached out to yours in desperation, you were too much in shock to think about pulling them away as you blinked down at him almost stupidly. “I can't… take it anymore. I feel like I’m going mad.”

He was being completely truthful with that statement too. He was jealous of his super powered alter ego from getting more attention from you then he was just as himself.

You finally pull yourself back into the current moment, clearing your throat as you shake yourself to help gather your words, neither of you noticing during the whole ordeal that Miguel’s apology gift had landed a few feet away from the door. Tugging at his hands as a signal to get up and off the floor. “O-okay, okay fine. Just-get up Miguel, Jesus…”

You wanted to keep holding onto this grudge of yours, but how could you when you had brought a man who is twice your size and four times your ego down to his knees? Reducing him to nothing more than a crying begging mess. Simple answer, you couldn’t. Whether it’s simple petty or if you felt like you were truly ready to hear him out, it honestly didn’t matter to you anymore. It’s clear from his breakdown that he had suffered enough.

He let out the biggest sigh of relief, sniffing a bit as he finally brought himself back up from your floor. A large hand of his coming up to wipe away a few lingering tears of frustration once he was up on his feet again. A silence fell over you both as you gave him a few seconds to collect himself properly before he could start explaining himself. Finally, with a clearing of his throat, bloodshot eyes met yours.

“Look, I know that… we haven’t been anything more than tolerant of each other… but I should have never,” his hands went to find yours again, grasping tightly as if he was afraid that you’d disappear in front of him. “Ever. Said that stuff to you. It was… too much even for us, if I could take it back, I would. I have no idea what snapped in my mind to say such vile things to you, it was wrong, it was stupid-so stupid-and I regret it. Regret it more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. You don’t have to forgive me, I don’t expect you to. Hell, say the word and I’ll walk out of here and I’ll disappear from your life forever. “

You have honestly never felt so speechless before. Miguel has never made you feel so speechless before.

“But god do I want you to forgive, to take those words back. I'll do anything, and when I tell you that I’ll do anything, I mean anything.”

You couldn’t help the breathless chuckle that escaped your throat, uneasiness bubbling up in your lower gult, despite laughing being your first reaction, you could tell he was all but joking. Your tongue stuck out to lick your suddenly dry lips.

“I can tell you’re being quite… erm, serious, so,” you pause, inhaling the tense air in hopes it’ll help calm your nerves, “I accept your apology.” Miguel took a deep breath to keep himself from turning into a babbling mess again, he could feel that heavy pressure on his chest filling up, he could finally breathe agai-“but I don’t forgive you.” He could feel his airways clog back up, he felt like he was blue screening as his ears heard the words but his mind didn’t want to accept it. He wants to do nothing more than to grovel at your feet again for you to take those words back.

But he couldn’t, it made him a little happier to know that there is something he can build off of, still as he finally was able to drag himself out from your room after putting on the facade of countenance , he felt the need to release all his pent up emotions out. He wanted to cry till his tear ducts stopped working, sob till his throat felt raw. But he couldn’t get himself to do it, his body simply wouldn’t let him, refusing to undo all of his years hiding his emotions more than he’s already done in your room, you're the only one who could make him feel again. What was that book his class started reading last week?

He felt like he had no mouth, and he had to scream.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix @reader-1290 @laysmt (to be added click here)

[joliackermann]

MY SWTD OC

FINALLY CALEB IS HERE

WOHOOO

His full name is Caleb Evans, becoming Caleb Zakarius after he married later on in his life.

He is my bald squad OC, btw 👀

Here is a little doodle I did of him:

Still working on this tho, but I finally have something to present, so here we go:

Explanation: 

Caleb is one of my pre-existing characters. I wanted to finally create my SWTD OC and used a random name generator and it just gave me the name “Caleb” and I was like “eh, why not?”

So this Caleb is technically Caleb from TS4 Vampires, but from my super old legacy save file. Gonna write some more about this later.

My sims 4 save file is a canon part of my book universe, so technically this is canon in my book as well?

It’s honestly kind of complicated, but since this OC is part of my book universe, I will apply the rules of my universe to this character.

Basically there is this thing, where time and space can sometimes be a bit unstable.

You know the feeling when you can’t find something, even though you are 100% sure that it has to be there somewhere?

Or all those missing people, whose bodies were never found?

Yeah. That’s what happened to them.

They were taken from their time, their universe and put somewhere random in another universe, without really knowing or understanding what had just happened.

Spoiler: this is how Caleb survives. 

Backstory:

Caleb grew up in an abusive household, becoming very protective of his sister from a very young age.

At only sixteen years old, his sister decided to run away with an older man, leaving Caleb with nothing.

He knew he needed money if he wanted to escape from home, which he now could. Without his sister, there was nothing holding him there.

Which is why, at the age of twenty four, he decided to take a job on an oil rig in the North Sea. 

When first arriving, he was placed in a room with Addair, since no other rooms were currently available due to water damage.

His job was simple; helping Roy in the galley. Following instructions, not really having to think for himself. For the first time ever, he could turn his brain off and just live, not having to care about anything really. 

He got along well with Roy right from the start, but let's be honest, who wouldn’t?

Roy was understanding whenever Caleb made any mistakes and was willing to help him, becoming a sort of mentor to him.

With Addair, the start was a lot rougher.

Addair never tried hiding his political views, giving Caleb flashbacks from his abusive home. For a moment, he was scared that the universe wanted to pull a prank on him and Addair was going to turn out to be a copy of his father.

But Addair had many good qualities and even though he and Caleb didn’t have the same political viewpoints, they got along great.

Addair gave Caleb another perspective; showing that even someone with these kinds of views could be a good human and a good father.

It was almost as if Addair was healing bits of the damage done by Caleb's father. 

For the first time, he didn’t need to protect anybody. Instead, he was being the one who was being protected by others.

Over time, Caleb's relationship with both Roy and Addair developed into something more. Nobody ever really talked about it, but Roy and Addair give him security and the feeling of being loved; something he never really had before.

Roys and Addairs relationship changes as well. Roy and Addair never really had a problem with each other, being mostly neutral to one another. But both overly protective over Caleb and in love with him, even though they never said a single word. Everybody knew, even though they themselves didn’t even really realise, and everybody accepted it. 

The events of the game: 

So Caleb was with Roy for the beginning part of the day.

After Caz decided to go to the lifeboats, Caleb went on his way to find Addair.

He knew Roy was safe, hiding in the pantry with Caz looking out for him.

But Addair was somewhere out there and Caleb needed to find him. 

He actually encountered mutated Gibbo at one point, though both held their distance.

When Caleb asked him about Addair, Gibbo had a breakdown. He couldn’t think straight for a moment and went for Caleb, though Caleb managed to outrun him, locking the door behind him before bringing more distance between himself and Gibbo.

But soon after, he started feeling worse; hearing voices. More specifically, his sister’s cries, from when they were kids and their father, in a fit of rage, had thrown his half empty beer bottle at his children.

It was something he often did when he had too much to drink. 

Trying to escape the voices and the visions, Caleb started running before suddenly breaking down as he felt pain shooting through his body.

It was the worst pain he had ever felt.

Worse than the stinging feeling when the beer bottle had hit him in the head, or the burning sensation when he was forced to pick up the broken glass and cut his hands. Worse than all the times his father had beaten him.

Caleb closed his eyes in pain and when he opened them again, he was somewhere else.

TS4/Book universe:

At first he thought it was only another hallucination.

After opening his eyes, Caleb found himself on the ground outside, a giant black castle right in front of him.

It was night, even though he was 100% sure that it had been the middle of the day just seconds ago. 

A strange man opened the door.

He was tall and skinny, his hair grey and his face full of wrinkles. He looked a thousand years old, at least.

The man smiled at Caleb and asked him if he needed help; said he knew just the right thing. A cure for every disease possible.

Caleb agreed, not really having anything to lose, his sister's voice still crying in his head. 

The cure turned out to be more of a curse, but it was too late when Caleb realised, already on his way to become the blood child of the mysterious master vampire. 

Caleb lived a hundred years, studying medicine and working night shift at the hospital. He had time and the hospital had an endless supply of blood.

It took years for Caleb to let people into his life again.

He had lost so much and was afraid to lose even more, so for a hundred years, he kept his distance. 

But then came this boy, the son of an acquaintance. Leif Zakarius, the third child of Johannes and Mike Zakarius.

They hadn’t meant for Leif to come into this world, having already enough to do with only two children and a cat at home.

But Leif came into this world and proceeded to stay there longer than any other of his family members. 

Leif always felt like an outsider in his family.

Much like Caleb, he wandered aimlessly through life.

And with time, they fell in love.

It was the first time in a hundred years that Caleb had allowed himself to love again.

Not knowing any cure for the vampire curse, he turned Leif into a vampire instead. It was either spend eternity together or die together as old men, but that wasn’t an option.

Soon, at least for vampires, they welcomed their first and only daughter into the world.

Fiona Zakarius, a beautiful, intelligent girl.

Never before had Caleb loved someone so much.

He became protective, overly protective if you asked Leif, and when she started dating an older man, Caleb was against it.

His sister had run away with an older man and he was afraid that his daughter would do the same thing to him.

But she didn’t. Sure, she moved in with the older man, turned him into a vampire, wanting to spend eternity with him, but she often came to visit and whenever the man was not at home, Caleb came to visit her as well. 

It seemed like he was finally in a position where he could allow himself to heal.

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse, pt 4.2

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve.

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse

On AO3

4.2 Playing hardball

Steve kneeled beneath the piano, contorting himself awkwardly to avoid the pedals. He was giving the blowjob of his life, which crazily, he was enjoying.

After his candy-ass panic nearly triggered an asthma attack in the plunge pool, he’d felt pretty shaken. On top of that, his ‘saving’ the situation through riding Eddie cowgirl was gonna make sitting down a world of ouch tomorrow. Once he’d escaped the pool, however, he’d managed to dash to the other restroom, take a puff of his inhaler, and… Bam! He came out swinging. 

Unfortunately, Eddie had then turned all jittery and Steve’s dumbass piano recital had been a bogus move.

Eddie seemed happier now, however.

He moaned, fists clamping rigid in Steve’s hair, while Steve pulled out all his neatest tricks. He pawed at Eddie’s balls, massaging and kneading, digging how they drew up, hard as pebbles. At the same time, he lavished his top-trump skill on Eddie’s cockhead. His lips slid wetly on and off the engorged plum, while his tongue swirled and dabbed at Eddie’s slit. He really hoped he was doing too much of an awesome job for Eddie to try and deep throat him.

His hopes paid off.

“Christ… Stevie… You’re fucking slaying me… Yes… there. Aaaaaagh, fuck, fuck, FUUUUUUCK!”

Eddie came hard, hot liquid coating the back of Steve’s throat, giving him little choice but to swallow. Meanwhile, Eddie jerked back, spurting the remnants of his load across Steve’s face:

“Shit… sorry, I was… Oh man, you’re sweet.” Eddie slumped forward, arms thumping the keyboard with a loud, dissonant plink. “You okay?” he panted.

“Mmmm.” Steve licked Eddie’s salty taste from his lips, dragging his arm across his disaster-zone face. He usually loathed this, struggling to conceal his revulsion. It made a helluva lot of difference when he actually fancied the guy who’d mini-bukakid him. He crawled out from under the piano, nearly braining himself. Eddie, looking kinda sheepish, offered him a glass of champagne.

“To wash away, the… erm…”

“Come? I love a cocktail."

“Pun intended?”

“Um, no?” Steve took the flute—internally cringing at his latest lousy line—chugged it back. He knew he should go drink some water. He said, instead: “Gonna be brutally honest. I prefer beer.”

“Christ, me too. I’d murder for a six-pack of Bud.”

After that, they showered together, got wasted on iced beer, then watched a Van Damme movie on cable from Eddie’s enormous bed. Steve lay belly-down across Eddie’s lap, while Eddie fiddled with Steve’s ass.

As Jean-Claude was high-kicking some punk out of existence, Eddie dealt his own killer blow: “Stevie, I want you to stay.”

“You paid for the night, man. I’m not about to split.”

Eddie switched off the TV with his remote. “Not that. How much dough d’ya want for a week? A month? To stay all the time. What do you say?”

“Woah! You really hate your money, don’t you?”

Steve rolled off Eddie’s lap, rested his chin on his fist, and stared. Was Eddie on the level? He was blatantly buzzed. A hot mess, basically. Steve was pretty fuzzy headed, too, after mixing the beer and champagne.

“I can’t ditch my day-job. Playing yo-yo in elevators is still better than”—having sex with the regular breed of a-hole John— “other crap. But listen, as long as I get some sleep and my cash, I’ll come back tomorrow. And the day after that. Aaaaand the day after that, if you’re not sick of my ass.”

A smirk flirted across Eddie’s lush lips, only to be replaced by total sincerity. “I’d like that, Stevie. I’d really like that. And as much as I’d love to fuck you all night every night, sleeping beauty, I ain’t got that kinda stamina. While you’re here, you can nap as much as you like. So…. any other rules? Expectations of your liege lord? Any more buck for your bang?”

“Say what?” This is where I play hardball. Negotiate a higher fee. “Nope,” said Steve, smiling up into Eddie’s big chocolate and slightly bloodshot eyes.

“Okay, I got one new rule,” said Eddie, crossing his arms tight around himself. “No games of poke the grizzly.”

“You lost me again. Is it some loopy sex-game?”

“Nope. You don’t ask me diddly-squat about my past. I won’t ask you.”

Cool. I don’t even have to feel guilty about keeping quiet about… stuff. “You got it, Eddie-cakes.”

Steve came back the next day and so it began.

They usually had sex. Some nights, they just chilled, ordered everything and anything on room service, plus take-outs from all over town, and stuffed their faces. 

Eddie proved a heavy sleeper, which was fortunate for Steve, who often woke himself up coughing. It got easier to control now he’d picked up his prevention meds, but Eddie’s smoking offset that a bit. Not that Steve was gonna say anything, which was kinda dumb, he knew, but… he really didn’t want to.

He’d muscle through.

By the end of a fortnight, it was all routine. When Steve’s alarm went off at 6am, Eddie would groan, lift his arm for Steve to roll away, then snore on. And Steve would often say a silent prayer of thanks to Eddie that he still had an alarm to swiftly silence. That digital watch was the last thing his father gave him. He’d been about to pawn it yet again before Eddie showed up.

On the fifteenth morning, all this usual shit happened. Steve flung on his uniform and slipped out of the suite. He was tucking his shirt in his pants when he reached the service elevator.

“What are you skulking around up here for, Harrington?”

Steve cringed, turning on his toes to confront that total creep, Kline. He needed an excuse, any excuse. Wearily drawing a blank, he was forced to drag out the one thing he’d got in his pocket. His inhaler.

“I was looking for this. Figured I dropped it when I was up here, delivering room service. Seems I was right.”

“Nothing about you is right, son. You’re a gutter-trash, good-for-nothing, snivelling runt.” Kline looked at his own watch, tapped it. “You better hurry up, or you’ll be late for your shift.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Unless you’re already on shift?”

Steve longed to cave the asshat’s teeth in, break his nose, then scream in his ‘snivelling runt’ face. Instead, he muttered, “Don’t start for two minutes,” and dived past Kline to use the stairs rather than the elevator.

What did Kline mean, ‘Already on shift?’ Steve had been extra careful about not being seen entering Eddie’s suite, or even inside it. Anyhow, what he did in his free time was up to him, right?

Dream on. He rules the roost in this hotel. He’ll want a cut, or worse.

Steve slopped way more coffee than usual at breakfast. Even his trainee-sous-chef ally, Robin, hollered at him when he forgot to pick up the hollandaise to go with an Eggs Benedict. Kline told him to take the rest of the day off—without pay, naturally. He was heading off, when Robin came running after him. “Steve, wait!”

“What?” He hooked his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Listen, however much that penthouse bum is paying you, you need a night off to actually sleep.”

“I am sleeping, Robin! Only not in a linen closet.” Okay, that was where he’d been heading, but only for a snooze. “Jesus, how many times do I have to tell you? Eddie genuinely is the best thing that’s happened to me in a fucking age.”

...

5.1 on tumblr or search #thefreakinthepenthouse)

Chapter 5 on AO3

Thank you for reading. Likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[bangtanfancamp]

Headed to the Mountains |KNJ

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•one shot

•Masterlist

•pairing: songwriter Kim Namjoon x oc with chronic pain

•word count: 3,465

•genre: escapism, hurt/comfort, smut, established relationship

•rating: MATURE/ 18+

•warnings: current event commentary, somewhat anti- American sentiment (I live in Texas so I see a lot of mess first hand 🫤 it’s my country but my god, it’s messy), stress, chronic pain, high sensitivity, sensory issues, first person voice, smut smut smutty smut, oral (female receiving and male), tandem oral, smex, doggy style?, Namjoon’s big brain during smex, smut with feelings and a lot of thoughts (as usual) ((all my air sign placements really coming out to play

•a/n: idk what this is, besties, besides extremely unedited and wildly indulgent. I may change the voice out of first person and all the “i’s” to “you’s” but it’s up the way it’s up for now. 🤷🏽‍♀️The world is just a horrifying place right now, especially in the US, and I just wanted to write something that felt like a small refuge, spend a little time some place that felt better, so we’re back in Namjoon’s living room. Also, who better to escape into the woods and away from reality with than the founder of namjooning himself ((also also, that bit about Pennsylvania was 100% true. It’s wild here, man))

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“I cannot get comfortable for the life of me,” I huff grumpily.

It’s a Monday night, late in March. The threat of rain has been looming for hours. Despite its sudden absence in the forecast when I check the weather app, I can still feel it in my bones. In the raw, creaky way my joints scrape against each other. The way the inflammation in my body burns like fire ants beneath my skin.

Namjoon is quick to notice from across the room.

“This weather’s been making your body feel like hell this spring.”

“Yeah, I hate to begrudge it though. Winter was even worse.”

“Gosh, it really was huh?” He frowns at the laptop screen on his desk. He’s got the tiniest beanie shoved on his very big head but somehow, it works. The tips of his hair peak past the beanie’s brim, brushing the mussed hair of his furrowed eye brows. “God, I can’t stand to stare at a screen a second longer.”

He peels his gold rimmed glasses off his nose, rubbing the little indentions they've made along the bridge and pressing his fingers into his closed eye sockets. I can tell he’s exhausted and miserable too about how much energy life seems to require of him these days.

“I’m going to scoop you up and make you the most comfortable woman in the world, I promise. Just give me like three minutes.” He tips back in his desk chair, the spine of it sliding out to a wide reclined angle as his long legs stretch out in front of him.

“Why did we spend so much money on a couch that’s not even comfortable, joonie?” I whine, shifting once again.

“Because the last one was even less comfortable than this one,” he reminds me, “and at least this one is cognac leather,” he shrugs. “It’s comfy on the eyes at least”

“Well I need it to be comfy for my bones.” I grunt, shoving yet another throw pillow out of your way. “Maybe we should pick up and move to the shore, like in a regency novel. I think the air would be good for me. I wonder if American healthcare accepts existential dread and deep chronic pain as enough of a reason to just financially support us until I turn to dust.”

“You and your TikTok algorithm both know as well as I do that America will do no such thing,” Namjoon chuckles with his eyes closed.

“I know…. But they should take at least some culpability. God knows most of my health problems probably exist BECAUSE of them.” I slide the strap of my bra and shirt off my shoulder, not because I want to be a seductress but because the elastic is cutting into my throbbing right trap muscle and if I don’t get some of the tension off of it, I might scream.

“Right? Did you hear about the latex spill in the Delaware river yesterday? The entire city of Philadelphia doesn’t have usable drinking water right now. My friend there literally got a text message about it from the city strongly recommending every use bottled water only until

Further notice. One and a half million people woke up to that text Message! It’s insane.” Namjoon pulls his oversized hood up over his beanie as he looks up at the ceiling, ankles crossed beneath the desk.

“Lord, haven’t we lived through enough of this? I’m so tired, joonie.” I can hear how pitiful I sound. To his credit, he treats me just the same as when I sound intellectually astute and strong. I’ve always liked that about him.

“If the world is going to hell in a hand basket anyway, maybe we should look into a- moving internationally and b- signing up for a payment plan on one of those YouTube influencer mattresses,” Namjoon tips his head my way, and suddenly my heart feels a little more light.

“Ooo, the helix?“ I smile, for perhaps the first time tonight.

His dark eyes twinkle in the low evening lamplight.

“ I actually did some research and found one made out of avocados.”

“Is that as close as I can get now that my body has decided it’s allergic to Avos?”

Namjoon’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “God, your body would find a way to betray you like that wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not my fault I’m too delicate for this world,” I shrug.

“I forget you were born inside a flower that protected you from the world with its petals until it bloomed, thumbelina.”

“If I could take a nap inside a peony right now, I’d do it in a heartbeat…. The pollen might be too much though.” I sigh.

“Come here,” Namjoon laughs, standing from his chair and extending his hand toward me.

“Where are you taking me?”

I slip my knuckles between his and knock against his shoulder with my head.

“To my bumblebee. Take you on a spin around the block” he winks.

“I’m surprised you didn’t say take a ride. It’s like the only lyric you use these days” I snicker, bumping the curve of my hip into his.

“You’re supposed to write what you know,” he shrugs.” It’s not my fault your hips are your area of expertise.”

He winks at me and god, if he took every piece of clothing off of me right now, I’d ride him in a heartbeat.

Shit. Knowing him, he can probably feel my response to him without even looking at me. Sure enough, he looks down, smiling until his dimples dip in his cheeks, and damn it, I’m so captivated by the focaccia dough dips in his face that I stumble into the corner of the wall. My hip catches and I yelp, more embarrassed than in pain.

“Shh, hey, I got you.”

That calm voice of his is so low right now as his palm curves around the dip in my hip that got nicked by the wall. I tip into his long, warm torso and let him guide me into the bedroom. I’m clearly too disoriented and agitated to make it here without careening into something else and frustrating myself, so I’m happy for the assistance. Besides, being scooped up in Namjoon’s substantial hands is never a bad place to be.

“Thanks, baby. I needed that.”

I press my temple into his chest, kiss his ribs. Marvel at the resistance of muscle I feel beneath his soft green shirt. I press my nose into the fabric and let the warmth of him calm me. His other hand strokes soft knuckles along my jaw. His touch is so light and sweet - I feel my shoulders drop as he does it.

“Pick me up?” I whisper, eyes lifting softly to look up at him from where I’m pressed into his chest.

His hands slide up my sides, palms pressed into my waist as he lifts me. The soft grunt he makes as my thighs wrap around his ribs makes something in my brain feel a little fuzzy. Life is better like this, I think. Our faces nuzzled cheek to cheekbone, his hands fitted beneath my thighs, mine trailing softly through the silky bits of his hair peeking out of the back of his beanie as my arms drape over his shoulders like fabric. I can feel the knot of tension in the middle of my spine begin to untie itself as I melt into him. God, I’m so happy he exists.

“Where would you like to go, princess?”

Namjoon kisses the top of my ear, and that fuzzy tingle in my brain is back.

“What are my options?”

I press my lips softly to his throat in light, meditative kisses. They’re more like delicate exhales. My tongue barely tips out to taste his skin. Just a touch. Just a taste. Sleepy and slow because that’s all I have the energy for. His eyelids do that hazy half flutter that tells me he likes it enough to pretend he doesn’t so that I’ll keep going. I smile as he gently tips his head to the side, as if waiting for my answer, but really he’s just giving me more room to access that spot behind his ear that likes my lips. Let’s humor the man.

“We could go to the bed, the shower, the bath…” he gasps a little on the last word, the ah sound coming out too airy as I gently mouth at his pulse point and his grip on my thighs gets tense. “Or there’s a ….counter right here.” His head tips toward the half bath in the hallway as his fingers dig into the meat of my legs.

When I look up to meet his eyes, they’ve gone serpentine. Deep and dark and heavy as he holds me close. I can feel how shallow his breathing is becoming and I smile, sleepy and soft as he watches me.

“Take me to bed, Joonie.”

He’s kissing me before I can even finish his name.

He tips the door open with one of his feet before squeezing us both through the threshold of it. With his eyes closed and his tongue between my lips, he’s bound to crash into something and he does. He thunks an elbow, I knock my head, but in seconds, he’s cradling it where I’ve bumped the wall, spilling “sorry, I’ve got you, sorry,” onto my tongue as he pulls me in closer.

The spell doesn’t break.

He’s big and he’s bulky but he’s careful with me as he lays me on the bed and climbs over me. His mouth doesn’t leave mine even as he peels off each piece of my clothing. His movements are slow, his touch tender as he does.

Namjoon has learned how to soothe my body when it’s alert like this. Knows the cool air feels refreshing and crisp when my skin is hot with pain and sensitivity so he gets me naked with a deft touch. He knows the feel of his skin is grounding for me so that soft green shirt of his hits the floor. Knows I love his hair so the beanie goes next. Knows I love the strength in his thighs so his shorts are next as he tugs my hips down beneath his to let me wrap my legs around his slim waist.

I'm so wrapped up in the warmth of him that I don’t realize he’s tugged my silk pillowcase beneath my head. It’s cool when my head falls back and I smile, toothy and wide, as his plush lips sink into my skin. He’s at my collarbone now, then the volume of my breasts. His breath is warm, the air is cool and his substantial hands grip me firm like dough he’s being careful with as he kneads.

His cock brushes against me between my legs and the bright feeling it sends sparkling through me makes my breathing stutter.

“Joonie,” I shiver, and I can feel him smile against my skin. See his eyes flash up at me in the dark.

“We do too much, baby.” He breathes, voice smoky and low like the dragon he is.

I don’t know what he means. My critical thinking is losing its sharpness as he suckles warm and soft at the dip of my ribs.

“Too much?” I can feel my brows crumpling, but his tongue is so warm on my stomach that my hands dig into his shoulders without my consent.

He reaches up to brush one hand over mine.

“Shhh, easy. We’re trying to relax you, not tense you up.”

He’s smiling. I can barely see him but I can feel him and I know his grin would only dissolve me deeper into the mattress.

“We do too much, we deal with too much. God, your skin is too motherfucking much,” he squeezes me, latches his soft mouth onto my waist and tugs at the skin. I can feel the bruise blooming there, but he’s off and on to the next before I can even get words out. “Your body is always trying to process all of it, but it’s too much. Let me take care of some of it- let me help.”

When His tongue slips between my legs, his strong hands push my legs wide, press them down when he feels me buckle. His breath is so warm, his mouth is so molten, his nose on my clit is so gentle- it all leaves my body in an exhale. Tension drops off like melted wax and I feel myself go supple in his palms as I let him do what he wants with me.

“There’s been so much chaos. So much to deal with. So much to do. I just want to run away from it all with you.”

His tongue is languid as it works on me. The rush of warmth undoes the aches in my body better than a hot bath ever has.

“Then let’s go, Joonie. Where do you want to go? I’ll follow you anywhere.” And I mean it. They’re not lusty rambles. They’re not hollow words. I’d follow him to the edge of the world.

He puts that plump mouth of his over my clit and the gentle way he slurps me up melts my bones into soup broth and clears my head.

“You’ll let me take you anywhere?”

He looks up at me, his mouth never leaving his post, working me slowly as he waits for my reply. His mouth is so wet, his eyes are so sharp and my body is just another piece of music he’s learned how to perfect. I nod, bottom lip bit between my teeth and relax as much as I can as he composes a symphony between my legs. His smile folds the crinkles around his eyes, and his aura flickers between lovingly soft and steadily authoritative as he doubles down, wrapping his arms around my legs to scoop my hips up into his face and pressing into me, deeper, faster, harder.

I arch up when he does, gasping as my shoulders lift up, my fingers twist in the bedspread, my jaw goes slack. He’s really doing a number on me and all I want to do is say thank you and let him continue.

He slides up my body then, one hand behind my head bringing my forehead to his as the other grips my hip with enough pressure to split it apart as he tips his cock inside me in a way I didn’t know I needed. The sound is squelchy and wet and he smiles as his nose bumps against mine.

“You’ll follow me?”

He sounds cocky in a way he hasn’t in a while and a little piece of me loves it. His hips are fluid as his cock rocks in and out of me. All I can do is nod wildly, disoriented as I clutch him close to me. My legs are folded up, feet along his hips for purchase with my knees butterflied wide. I’d laugh at how much I must look like a frog if this didn’t feel so good. He’s got a hand beneath my bum, lifting my hips off the bend and gliding his cock so deep into me that surely my organs are all shifting wide like the Red Sea to make room for him.

“Wherever you want to go,” I hum, arms falling slack. I’ve lost the energy to hold on to him, but he’s got me held up so precious and tight that we’re still more intertwined than two fibers of thread in a tight knit sweater. I’ve fused into him and now every breath is in tandem.

“I’m gonna take my girl away from here.”

His thumb brushes my bottom lip and I feel myself flush at his tenderness.

“Yeah?” My eyes are wide, following his. He hovers above me, furrowed face sculpted with intensity and aggression as his body works mine into ecstasy. I’ve really acquiesced to the fact that I’m nothing more than a soft lump of clay in his hands that he’s working with precision. I’ve always wanted to be a work of art.

He slips my breast into his mouth like a lychee jelly, moaning at the feel of me tightening around him when he does it. Pumping harder, faster, deeper, only to pull out and dip his long fingers into the mess he’s made. He slathers it over all my sensitive bits, caressing with finesse as sparklers crackle in my vision.

When He pulls me up and into him, my face is pressed between his pecs and god, I can’t keep it together. I kiss them furiously as he works, clutching onto his arms, dragging my fingers down his abs as he slides his glossy fingers over my clit like he’s casting a spell. I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe… I can’t….

But I can because I have to- Namjoon won’t ease up until he gives me the sweet oxytocin of release by his hands and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So I dig deep and exhale slow and controlled, whimpering as he rockets past that orgasm to send me into preparing for the next one. He smirks like I’m his plaything and I comply with no resistance. I’ll have as many rounds as he gives me. I’m a big girl. I can handle- Oh!

At least, I thought I could handle anything. Naive me, I suppose.

I smile into the sheets when he tips me over onto all fours. He kisses my shoulders, kisses along my spine, brushing his thumbs on the folds on my hip, all tender and kind and syrupy sweet as the behemoth between his legs tips ever so slowly inside of me despite my incredible tightness, and I don’t know whether to breathe or scream so I press my face into the bedding and giggle like there’s something wrong with me.

“Take you somewhere quiet,” he slides in deeper. “With no noise,” he thrusts. “No news.” He thrusts. “Just nature.”

My chest feels tight with affection but my body feels limps like a rag doll as he pumps me silly. His gargantuan hands holding up my hips are the only thing keeping me from sliding off the bed and melting into the floorboards.

“Joonie, i’d- I’d love that,” soft puffs of air leave me with each fluid roll of his hips. The snap at the end of the graceful flourish knocks my skull a little loose but I don’t mind. Thinking so little is really quite nice.

“Take you for walks, lay with you in nature, fuck you like this in an outdoor bath tub while we watch the stars.”

His hand glides down my spine as he paints beautiful pictures with his words. My heart and my body don’t know which way is up.

“Escape all this chaos. At least for a little bit.” He smirks. I catch a glimpse of it as I look over my shoulder, reach back to hold his hand.

“I might never let you drag me back to the real world.” My smile is gooey, fond and so is his now. His dimples have come out - all his sincerity and heart on display, as his hips still even as he still fills me up.

“I can write poetry in the wild,” he shrugs. “My music would probably be better for it.”

He looks bashful and soft. The juxtaposition of his strong body and sweet face make me dip forward. He slides out of me, watching with confusion as I guide him to stand beside the bed.

When I flip onto my back, letting my head loll backwards off the bed in front of him, he arches a brow at me. I just chuckle and pull him forward by the back of his legs.

“Come here. I want to make my own music.”

I take the length of him into my mouth and he topples over, hands bracing on either side of me on the bed. He groans so sweet and low that I smile as I take him deep. His knees buckle when my nose tips softly against his balls as I suckle him slowly and it takes everything in me not to laugh at how happy I am.

His hands travel my body as his mouth occupies itself. He makes a meal of my breasts, takes a drink between my legs, holds my throat to lighten my breath. When we cum in tandem, he collapses to my side as we catch our breath in silence.

The night is still, the air is cool and rain is finally trickling against the windows.

Our bodies are spent and our plan is set.

We’ll run away soon enough.

But now, cradled breast to breast, we sleep knowing our world is just the smallest bit brighter.

[bardofavon]

Do you have any favorite quote(s) from 'a good myth is hard to kill'?

I DO!!!!! it took me so long to answer this, sorry, it's because there's so many floating around in my head and I couldn't begin to think about where to start.

I really enjoyed the scene where Kaz and the Darkling expand the Fold for the first time. At the time I wrote it, I really loved this line:

And who would they pray to anyway? Kaz? Kaz, who watches?  Kaz, who says let the ones you love be swallowed by the dark so that I can hold mine at a distance.  The jokes write themselves, here in Ravka.  xx

I also reallllly love the whole scene with Inej in the second half of this chapter but especially this bit:

I also have problems in my brain unlike any other so I really love the entirety of chapter 58 but in terms of "I have peaked with writing toxic romance" I really enjoyed these lines from chapter 48:

“Would you still love me if I destroyed the Fold?” “You won’t.” “But would you?” “You won’t.” “But if I did. That would be your limit.” “There is no limit. You’re mine forever, I will love you until there’s nothing else to love…but you would regret it. Love doesn’t exist distinct, safe from pain. You would suffer, and I would love you, and I would make you thank me.” xx

I also really like chapter 91. although saying that feels like i'm confessing to a crime. i don't like it as much as I like having written it. I like this line especially, because of the canon callback and the culmination of a lot I was building up to thematically:

“Please. Don’t do this,” Kaz says, and it’s almost funny how easily begging comes to him now.  “Begging can’t help you this time,” He says. He sounds saddened by it, as though he wishes it were as easy as being able to believe Kaz because he’s said please. “Not now that I know how little your word actually means.”  Somehow that cuts Kaz deeper than anything else has.  The deal is the deal. Maybe Ghezen is real after all, and this is Kaz’s punishment for spitting on all the bargains he’s made over the last year. He cheapened them, all of them, and now they mean nothing.  Man laughs at the gods until he needs them. Ghezen wouldn’t listen even if he did pray. 

and I definitely have a lot more, honestly there's a few chapters that really stand out to me as being like "wow I really popped off with this one" but the second to last chapter (the one right before the epilogue) was just so rewarding for me. it felt so cathartic to write and I hope it was cathartic to read. I really liked this line:

I'm in your head now, and it's my head too. Your thoughts are my thoughts, your dreams are my dreams, neither of us will ever escape. 

as well as

Something can't come from nothing, and the dent he will make in the world must be felt…it must be felt… But not by him. He's felt enough.  And for a moment, Kaz feels a bit of regret. He regrets that the most powerful man in the world, the first person he thought could truly see Kaz as an equal, never learned to share. He regrets they couldn’t be more, they couldn’t rule together, they couldn’t be the things they’d promised to be to each other. He regrets that it was all a lie, and he regrets that there was ever a time when he believed it.  But most importantly, most vividly, he regrets not being able to take a knife and slice him through himself so he can feel the warm blood on his hands and watch up close as the life he was so proud of fades from his eyes. 

honestly as much as it feels a bit egotistical to say it I just really love this work in general, I think overall it's definitely one of my best and I'm tremendously proud of it so I could probably talk about my favorite parts all day. thank you for asking <3 <3

I'd love to hear if YOU have favorite quotes!!!

[frostyreturns]

Frosty Reviews Idiocracy

This is one of those movies that people kept telling me I needed to watch because it seemed like a movie I’d like. Now that I have seen it I have no idea how this movie escaped me before now. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I even knew it existed and I just never saw it available anywhere. It must have been pretty low budget and didn’t have the marketing power behind it but even still it seems to have a cult following. I like most everything Mike Judge does so it should have been a no brainer.

It’s a dumb comedy but if a dumb comedy was a fairly accurate speculative dystopia. The idea is people are just going to keep getting dumber and dumber until one day a know nothing dumbass from our time would be considered the smartest man in the world. Part of the reason for the speculation is the idea that stupid people reproduce a lot while smart people reproduce very little. I have a bit of an issue with this reasoning…I think not reproducing is more of a midwit thing than a smart people thing. People smart enough to use protection when they are not ready…but not smart enough to figure out the benefits of a larger family and to be able to create the wealth to provide for it. The dumbing down of the world thanks to the fact that dumb people breed more is just part of the picture and the movie never really tackled the fact that we’re being dumbed down on purpose with drugs, porn, shitty education, lies, constant mindless media distractions, fluoridated water etc.

I bet if the movie was made or remade today social media especially stuff like tik tok would be prominantly featured, it’s kind of a real shame it’s not there because it would have been so perfect. I can so easily picture scenes where there’s some serious problem they need to address and the characters are just in the background doing tik tok dances instead.

I thought the movie was pretty funny but the funniest thing to me was the backstory behind the footwear. The movie was obviously super low budget which is a shame because otherwise I think this could have been a much better and more widely known and loved movie. At times the shitty backgrounds took me out of it a little. It was so low budget Mike Judge was dealing with some wardrobe stuff himself and when he was looking for footwear he asked for ugly shoes that they might wear in a future where everyone is retarded. He specifically asked that they be sure not to use anything that might become popular…the shoes they used for the movie were crocs and the wardrobe woman assured him they were so ugly there was no way they would ever become popular.

At times the joke felt like it was stretched a little thin, the premise was funny and many of the jokes were funny but there was times it felt like…maybe a whole movie wasn’t needed for this joke. The specifics of the plot were kind of inconsequential and I never felt really invested in any of the characters enough to care what happened to anyone. Particularly Dax Sheppard…I can’t stand the fucking guy but I do have to say he was cast perfectly for the role I totally believed him as a brain dead dipshit.

Most of the jokes were running gags one of my favourites was the way that the Fuddruckers restaurant slowly changed its name to buttfuckers. The whole movie isn’t just dumbasses laughing at people getting hit in the balls 24/7 there’s a subtle genius to the humour. The way the fat uninterested Costco employee greets them all by saying “welcome to costco I love you” says so much about the future he’s painting a picture of. A dehumanizing mega corporation that doesn’t even bother trying to appear like it cares and just pays an employee to just lie directly to you…stripped of all nuance and subtletey. It says they have to try less because people are too stupid to see it for what it is. There’s just something about a faceless corporation pretending to give a shit about you that feels so offputting and dystopian. I once got a birthday email from my bank and it kinda made me want to find out who was in charge of that decision and go take a shit on their desk. You’re not a fucking person don’t talk to me like you’re a person.

Some of his predictions are right on although he was wrong about Costco being the main megastore that eats up everything else and tries to be the one and only store, this was made before Amazon became basically what he was predicting costco would be. And he also rightfully predicts an oversexualization of society…his examples are silly like starbucks becoming a place where you get handjobs but it does seem like as things get shittier more and more people are resorting to some kind of sex work. I’ve never been on twitch because the idea of watching people play video games makes me a rage, but im told it’s basically impossible to use it without seeing half naked women turn it into some kind of erotic content.

I also thought the movie displayed the dunning krueger effect pretty well. Initially the main character who is from the past and is thus the smartest person alive is treated like the dumbest person they’ve ever seen…becuase they were too stupid to recognize how stupid they are so even basic common sense looked and sounded retarded to them.

In many ways we already live in the idiocracy, we’re getting dumber and we reward shitty dumb behaviour. The movie was essentially a reduction to absurdity of a real phenomena that’s only gotten a lot worse since it was written. The political pageantry was especially prescient because we’re currently watching a shit show involving a former and probably future president that’s actually been on WWE before.

Idiocracy was a good blend of dumb nonsense movie and intelligent satire. Definitely worth at least one watch despite the sometimes horrible cgi and somewhat lagging lackluster plot. It’s funny and it definitely holds up.

[soapskies]

Could I request some general yandere hcs for capullo/zero year riddler?

Im down bad for this man

Also just found your blog, and even tho it's new, your writings amazing!

YANDERE CAPULLO RIDDLER 🧩 ?¿

MALE READER. RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS. CONTAINS YANDERE TROPES AND SUGGESTIVE CONTENT.

— Thank you, anon! :D

One of the most difficult Riddler’s to put up with, even more so as a yandere, simply because he has absolutely no qualms about getting rid of anyone who gets in his way, especially if they are of no use to him.

That woman who gives you flirty looks at your job? Gone, off the face of the Earth, she may as well have never existed. That guy who brushed against your shoulder one time? Edward will run him through a meticulous puzzle trap, enjoying the way the blood leaves his face as he nears death, the pathetic brain-dead worm. He might even make you watch just so he can force you to play nice.

When he first grapples with his feelings, he’s beyond frustrated. He tried his hardest to forget about you. You’re just another average, brainless fool in a city full of them, and he’s the Riddler, for god’s sake!

But he can’t stop his thoughts from spiraling, can’t help envisioning you at his beck and call, subservient to him, being able to do whatever he wants with you…

Sooner or later he’ll kidnap you. It’s painful not being able to control a problem like this for him, you understand.

He convinces himself that it’s completely your fault that things had gotten to this point, like your a man sent by Satan himself to ruin his plans… not that he believes in such things.

He’s one of the sleaziest Riddler’s, and that definitely plays into the way he treats you

He sees you more like an object than a person, something he’s entitled to, and he makes damn sure to remind you of who owns your body and controls your autonomy.

He can never keep his hands off you, whether they’re gripping your waist, slung around your shoulders, caressing your chest or lingering on your thighs, all while he watches you squirm with a smirk.

I’d imagine his obsession with you is a love-hate sort of relationship. He views you as inferior, yet he wants you around him at all times, practically attached to the hip.

And my god does he love controlling every little aspect of your life, and keeping you tightly under his thumb. He’ll decide what you wear, what you eat, where you are, at all times…

It’s the only way he can scratch that insufferable itch in his brain, and deal with his obsession.

The only way he’d let you be around others is if he wanted to show you off, or embarrass you enough to bring your self-worth down.

He’ll humiliate you in front of others, hold you down, make you do unsavory things for him… all while enjoying himself.

If you dare act defiant, oh boy…

He’s not above keeping you on a leash, marking your skin up, branding you if you refuse to stay in your place

He wouldn’t severely injure you in any way, you’re already pathetic enough as you are… just enough on the skin so that it’s visible and permanent

Edward’s not particularly concerned about you “loving him back”, as long as you do what he says and behave. He accuses you of lusting after him, never admitting to it himself.

He’ll make sure there’s no chance in hell you’ll escape him, even if it means inserting tracking devices under your skin. Not that there are many chances to get away, given how you’re forced to be at his side practically every hour of every day. And who would even dare mess with the Riddler?

He’ll leave dark purple welts on your skin from where he bit down too hard, especially on your neck in the most visible of places, just so he can force you to wear shirts that show everybody who you belong to.

He’ll make you sit in his lap when he’s working or out in public, taking pride in how embarrassed you get

Maybe he’ll even tease the waistband of your boxers and threaten to take things further under the table if you don’t stop acting like a brat…

“What’s wrong? Afraid someone might notice how pathetic you’re acting? Why don’t you be a good boy and stay still for me…”

[quinloki]

So pre apology but I’m existing on very little sleep and the brain is not completely braining

HOWEVER

….

>>

I went with 7’0” for Thatch since he has no official height and we don’t really see him next to any other characters often to compare (and one piece heights are not consistent, let’s be real). And this already makes my brain go brrr

I legit could not get them out of my head ALL DAY it will not stop so pls have this little trinket of what my brain has come up with

Just imagining being like, a new recruit, and the 1st division commander stops you to ask how things are going after dinner. You’re having to look up at him a bit, but that’s normal around the crew. Thatch pops by, checking in as well. They’re the friendly type so if course they’re gonna check in on the cute new little recruit.

While y’all are chatting by the doorway of the mess hall, someone calls from above deck that land has been spotted. They both go to move you out of the pathway, essentially putting you between them, apologizing as a bunch of unruly crew members go to pass by right where you were all just at to see what kind of land is coming up.

And you go to reassure them it’s fine thank you for not letting you get trampled when you freeze, realizing just how big they are and how easily they just manhandled you out of the way and how you’re essentially buried between them as the crew passes by. You finally stutter it out, but it’s definitely not missed by either man the tone or the fact that you’re completely flushed.

They discuss and make it a point to really drive home the size difference in the next few days. Maybe coming up behind you, moving you gently while apologizing and saying they’re in a hurry. Or sitting on either side of you at a table as you read a book. Maybe even one of them offering to spar with you, wrapping their whole hand easily around your forearm to pull you down or over their shoulder.

By the end of a few days you’re a flustered mess and can’t stop picturing being between the two commanders in more than one way.

…..

Man it’s been awhile since I had such a fluid thought LOL I’m gonna do a few things and then head to bed and hopefully ponder this more bc… gods… I want them. A man who can manhandle me AND open the door/pull out a chair? Perfect xD

okay but I'm 154cm and ...

KAZ YOU ARE KILLING ME.

Oh gods and I can see it too, those two working together. They're besties if ever there were besties and you cannot convince me otherwise. The only reason Marco doesn't leave with Ace to get revenge on Teach is because Pops' word is law for him more than his own personal feelings, and he's come to that belief long before Ace ever crawled into existence.

BUT

Yeah. You're not going to get seduced by one or the other, it's going to be both. Marco's quiet and smooth, and Thatch is a little more animated about things, but just as smooth.

Eventually, it'll be Marco's finger under your chin, letting you get lost in his eyes, asking if they can kiss you, and you just nod almost dumbly like you've been having dreams about these two with all the interactions and teasing that they've done over the last few weeks. If someone doesn't kiss you you're going to explode or just yeet yourself overboard at this point.

Marco leans in, closing that sweet distance slow and steady, and gods your heart is going to just beat against your ribs until they crack, and just before you think it's going to happen, Thatch turns you toward him and kisses you.

The shift was planned between the two of them, specifically to just knock you off balance. You're dizzy from the sudden shift, and gods Thatch kisses like he flirts and right now you can't keep up with it, and the soft moan that tangle between your lips escapes when he leans back. Face flushed, hungry for more, Marco turns your attention back to him, hand warm against your face as he pulls you in.

His kiss is less of a rush, but the flood of blood into your face and lips because of Thatch is making the feel of Marco's lips against yours tingle. The action might be more reserved, but if you ever doubted before that they were in cahoots, you don't doubt it now.

Thatch raises your hand gently within his larger one, kissing the back of your hand softly as Marco lets you lean back from the kiss. There's no escape for you, not that you want it, not that you're being trapped. This isn't a yandere-styled story, the way you've been wooed and won over was soft and sweet, if not calculated and focused.

There's been no guessing in this game, and you know all the options available. Safe between the two, would easily make you the safest person on the grandline.

[alexanderflowerbird]

DAY 24

Oh man, I had such a good day. I went to work and sure, the poinsettia situation is fucked but it is every year and I am surprisingly more capable of handling it than I had been last year. No crying! No panic attacks! No nightmares! Just lots of exasperated sighing lol. But I got home, made myself some delicious grilled cheese sandwiches, had an excellent nap followed by an excellent bath, and then I watched the finale episodes of Arcane with my husband. I didn't write shit lol, but I'm not unhappy about it! It was a good day. Arcane has my husband and I by the throat once more, so I'm looking forward to the roleplaying that will manifest from this baller series; season one gave us enough to work with that we roleplayed for AGES in that universe and had a fantastic time, so I'm vibrating out of my skin to do more lol. The music is also so, so good, and has my brain in all kinds of fun creative spaces about New Faith, The Bishop of Black and Blood Sun Territory. Nothing like an evocative soundtrack to get the creative juices flowing. So, I will likely be writing prolifically in the next few days to the music on the soundtrack. With Woodkid AND Stromae as artists in the line up? This hole was made for me lol. But I do have an excerpt for you! Another one of my sprints, yippee! I hope you had a good day too, I hope Sunday treated you well.

Taglist: @thelittlestspider @theskeletonprior @badscientist @tragedycoded If you'd like to be part of my taglist, please interact with this post

“Run!” Dolcezza shouts at Malachi, and before the singular word is even finished escaping Dolcezza’s lips Malachi has turned back towards the truck in a mad dash. He can’t believe something like that exists, that it’s alive, let alone that it was once a person. Dolcezza fires his flare gun while coming up right behind Malachi and when Dolcezza takes his hand and forces the pace that much faster, Malachi doesn’t resist, heaving for breath as his heart pounds in an impossible, siren like rhythm in his ears. The monster behind them doesn’t pursue in a hurry, but it doesn’t have to, it’s huge, it’s long, loping steps closing the space between them, it’s drooling, fang lined maw dripping blood onto the earth that some how Malachi can hear beyond the beat of his heart, his senses hyper-focused on how it is coming, it is closer, it is on them.

Dolcezza throws the door open and shoves Malachi inside, climbing in on top of him because there’s no time for him to go around and get in on the driver’s side. He yanks the door shut, body pressed up on top of Malachi’s, his torso arched over Malachi’s in a protective posture even though they’re in the car. Surely it can’t do anything to the car, right? The answer comes in the way the car jostles as the beast leans it’s body against the vehicle, growling low in its throat as it begins to circle. This makes sense of some of the cars Malachi had seen along the way and he is terrified. Bites curling the tops of cars open like cans, gaping stretches of jagged metal carved open by claws. Dolcezza had explained to him some, that some of the beasts were hostile if confronted, but this is different, this one sought them out it seems like, came from nowhere like a ghost.

It goes around the back of the truck and Dolcezza scrambles over Malachi to get into the driver’s seat, rocking his hips upward to get his car keys out of his pocket and putting them in the ignition. He doesn’t turn the engine over though, instead looking in the rearview mirror. 

“What are you—”

“SHH!” Dolcezza says before Malachi can finish his frantic whisper, his eyes trained on the rearview mirror. Malachi tries to catch his breath, and looks into the mirror too, for the first time getting a good look at the thing, as good as he can get in the pitch dark of the night anyway. It is enormous, it’s dark fur like that of a wolf’s up until it reaches the back of its skull, flaring out like the mane of a lion. The hair ends there and dark, pinkish skin stretches out from beneath the fur to keep ahold of the bare skull of some sort of dog. It’s not a wolf, Malachi isn’t sure why he knows that, but he does— a coyote maybe? It looks into the rearview mirror with eyes that glow like beacons, red as the sky when all things change, and both Dolcezza and Malachi reflexively look away as though catching it’s gaze will issue a challenge.

The truck creaks as the monster presses up against it again and Malachi looks to Dolcezza through the dark, trying to communication his desperate hope that Dolcezza will turn on the truck and get them the fuck out of here. He’s not looking at Malachi though, he’s got his head tilted, listening to the monster as it moves around the back of the truck. He tenses up and Malachi grips the seat for dear life when there is a hideous, loud crunching sound, when metal and bone are squeezed together as the beast sinks it’s teeth into the truck’s bed-door and rips the damn thing clean off. It keeps it in its mouth and crunches the door, causing the metal to squeal, and then it lopes away down the road with the door in its maw.

[zahri-melitor]

I then proceeded to look up Rick Flag on Wikipedia for further character history and uhhhhhh

After his death, Flag appeared in an issue of Captain Atom, where his soul was saved from an eternity in Purgatory and reunited with Karin in Paradise. His Purgatory self also appears in the Day of Judgement, limited series. Along with other Purgatory bound souls, he battles heavenly agents on the behalf of a still living superhero team. As stated in issue five of the series, his rebellious actions earned him another after-life chance.

All pretty normal so far, this is pretty standard shenanigans for a dead character during the 90s.

One Year Later in Checkmate (vol. 2) #6, Rick Flag is revealed to be alive and is rescued from a secret Quraci prison by the Bronze Tiger. He had been imprisoned there for four years until Amanda Waller discovered him and alerted the Tiger to his whereabouts. Rick was later revealed to be leading a clandestine Suicide Squad unit at the behest of Amanda Waller, and against the expressed mandate of the Checkmate organization.

…well timeline wise at least 4 years is consistent with other readings on the passage of time in DC. This is gonna be some Superboy Prime nonsense isn’t it? Also typical Waller move.

Bob Greenberger, who co-created the Suicide Squad alongside John Ostrander, has publicly objected to the resurrection of Rick Flag. According to Greg Rucka, Rick Flag's subsequent re-appearance had nothing to do with Infinite Crisis, and John Ostrander has stated that he knew how Rick Flag could survive the explosion at Jotunheim when he first wrote it.

NOT SUPERBOY PRIME????

Rucka. Rucka I love you but how did you and Ostrander figure out how to get Rick Flag out of standing immediately next to an atomic bomb as it went off?

As seen in Suicide Squad: Raise the Flag #2, Rustam used his Scimitar to teleport both Rick Flag and himself to Skartaris.

OH COME ONNNNNN

Though admittedly I can’t not laugh at the idea of escaping an old USSR bomb by travelling to Skartaris. Mariah Romanova would approve.

In Raise the Flag #5, General Wade Eiling admits that Rick Flag Jr. is not actually the son of Rick Flag Sr., but is a soldier named Anthony Miller who was brainwashed by Eiling into believing he was Flag's son.

*pinches nose* was this necessary?

Miller's conditioning means that Eiling still has control of him, and uses him as part of his takeover of the Suicide Squad. Forced to activate an explosive implant in Amanda Waller's brain, Miller breaks free from his mind control enough to activate Eiling's implant instead, leaving him helpless enough to be captured. Confronted with the possibility to give up his presumed identity and return home, Miller decides that the Suicide Squad needs a Rick Flag, and refuses the offer.

… comics, man. This is the most OH MY GOD COMICS thing I’ve read this week.

Why does this plot exist. Who thought teleporting out from a nuclear explosion into Skartaris was a good idea. How did Rick Flag end up BACK in that Quraci prison? Did he and Rustam share a classic Skartaris sword fight that ended up in Rustam’s favour?

According to Raza he [Rustam] was a US covert operative in Qurac who was apparently betrayed by the United States, a situation which led to the deaths of his entire family.

FFS!

All of these wild shenanigans are going on in comics written in 2007, might I add. You don’t even have the excuse over the start of the Iraq war - that was 2003, four years prior!!!

[halsinshoneypot]

You Are More Than Her Lies pt.3

To the girls, the gays, and the theys. I'm on my period and it's fucking awful - instead of 2 chapter uploads I'm gonna write a long one and hope you guys enjoy my literary waffle. I'm a heavy fantasy-romance reader (the Maas universe has me in a chokehold and I'm foaming at the mouth waiting for flame and shadow) so do not be surprised that there is a lot of inner dialogue and scene description over character dialogue. Now. Time to binge eat Reese's while escaping reality by writing <3

Sanji 

“I killed an official of the capital...” Zoro mumbled, looking away with a painful grin on his face. 

“Huh?!” Sanji shouted, watching as his unlit cigarette went flying to the sand.  

Sanji’s mind broke. Mosshead was supposed to lay low, LAY LOW, not KILL an OFFICIAL of Wano. Just... what the fuck?! For the love of God, I hope none of the other’s followed his stupidity. The blond didn’t know what to say, what to do, what to even think ahead for. Was Zoro being chased? Were the others with him? Where are they? Why did he kill the city official? The question’s kept piling up and Sanji was too worried for the other crewmates to ask for the answers, if he didn’t acknowledge the bad, the bad didn’t exist – a hands over eyes kind of situation. But he needed to face the truth, because the possible consequences of mossheads actions could have the crew in deep shit and if they were, well, the two men needed to form a rescue plan. Maybe I can get mosshead to figure out where we are first and then sneak back to the capital? No, that man can’t navigate for shit. We’d just get eaten by a wild tiger or drown in quicksa- 

“The others are fine. It was just me. Their covers aren’t blown, and they had no idea anything was happening for them to intervene – I made sure of it. They are always my priority, so stop worrying.” The feeling of confidence and reassurance trickles down the bond, this answers Sanji’s worries, and he is surprised that the swordsman had the brains to not include the other crew in his fuck up. But Zoro has always been protective over the crew, even over Sanji – Luffy the most, who isn’t though? – so it shouldn’t be surprising he didn’t risk the others. Maybe the blond was being a little harsh. On that note, Sanji lets go of the swordsman and sits opposite of him, deciding to gather their baring's to avoid the intense staring Zoro was adamant on.  

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was projecting. My Robin-chwan is safe! But where are we? Do you at least know that?” There was the beach, a light and delicate sand that got darker the more contact it had with the deep blue of the sea. The shipwrecks were an ugly contrast to the stunning day that Wano was experiencing, the harsh view making reality that much more apparent. A cooling wind rushed between the wreckage’s, creating a whistling sound. Shadows of exotic trees native to Wano were towering over the beach but only slightly touching the two men, a sweet relief from the blaring sun made the cook want to reside in the full shade rather than fight in the sun. All Sanji could gather was that the climate of Wano was exotic, desert like in their current location, but he could see greenery in the distance. and he wasn’t sure if that would change the further inland they travelled. The cook could see some towers with smoke pollution in the far distance, the heat of the land and wind causing the sights to dance. If that was a factory then they must be close to a town. “I know we are in Wano”, the cook deadpans at the swordsman who only gives back a cheeky grin, “You were wondering around lost weren’t you?” This doesn’t surprise Sanji, it’s expected of the swordsman, Sanji had to ask in case the universe decided to be kind and give Zoro a sense of direction – but Sanji new not to hope for the impossible.  

“I’m not wondering around lost... I’m just making sure Wano is fully explored, if there are any undiscovered societies or islands! How did you get here? Where’s the rest of the WCI crew?” Zoro’s tanned neck and tips of his ears started to turn pink, ignoring the fact that the two men shared a bond, his anatomy couldn’t hide his embarrassment from his directional challenges. Once again, because apparently the poor cook doesn’t a break, panic rises again “I don’t know! We travelled UP a waterfall with some koi that Luffy had a hold of”. As the cook rattled on about the events that led up to him being washed ashore an abandoned shipwrecked beach, Zoro tried his best to keep the cook from passing out – reminding the cook to “Take a breath shitty brow”, “Okay repeat that part but slower”, “Will you just slow down”. Sanji found it rather rude of Zoro, but the swordsman knew how the cook got when retelling events, he started to speed up and blame himself, claiming that if he was stronger than the event wouldn’t of went the way it did. The blond never catches onto Zoro’s reassuring looks; his comments that focusing on the past would hinder the cook's future growth, that Zoro would always have the crews back, and especially Sanji’s.  

Sanji thought Zoro’s comments were because the swordsman was too stupid to keep up, of course the stupid muscle head didn’t understand Sanji, of course he didn’t have to worry about being strong enough to protect the crew, of course he would always come to Sanji's aid. It infuriates when the mosshead tells Sanji to take a breath or slow down; what if while informing the mosshead what happened just means the crew get injured further, get taken further away from their current location or possibly killed! Zoro is always calm, showing anger but in a controlled manner and then giving a short but quick speech to rescue or avenge the crew that were blackmailed or taken – as much as Sanji hated Zoro for being everything he couldn’t, Sanji also liked that about Zoro. The consideration and comforting words the swordsman has an uncanny way with, the bond that he doesn’t need to use to silently communicate to Sanji with and how it always works. Just like now, the frustration that Sanji felt was being wrapped and lulled to determination, changing the need to kick something into the need to wrap his arms around Zoro and thank him.  

“You have no clue where they are, it’s fine. Knowing Luffy he’s made friends, ate some food and promised to beat up some corrupt person terrorizing his new friend's life. Since we are in Wano, that corrupt person is most likely Kaido and Luffy knows he needs his crew with him – needs his two strongest by his side. Nami is crafty, she’ll bat her eyelashes and scam her way to Usopp or someone already in Wano and get safe. The rest of them will either follow Nami or Luffy so we don’t have to worry. It’s okay, take a smoke and calm a little, use that smart brain of yours”. Zoro ranted, his hands on the blond's shoulders, grounding his thoughts from running further. Sanji listened and wondered why he didn’t think those things, but Zoro did. This moment solidifies why Zoro is first mate and Sanji the second. Zoro’s words are why Sanji can never be fully committed to the bit of hating each other, so Sanji does as the mosshead says.  

Getting up from the sitting position the two are in, Sanji starts to walk towards the trunk of a large tree, “Follow me will you, this heat makes me more agitated than calm” Sanji explains to the mosshead – who lets out a gruff and follows Sanji to the tree, feeling the same way about the heat. The cook is the first to and rest against the tree, the swordsman sits next to him, their shoulder’s touching “You don’t need to sit so close mosshead, I’m not going to run off on a single man rescue mission!”. “I know, but this helps me; I’ve missed the crew, even the ones I see around the FC. I feel more myself when I’m around you lot, and I’ve been walking for days in this heat. So, deal with it.” Zoro says, eyes closed, and head tilted back on the tree. 

Sanji blushes a little, he implied my presence is relaxing, didn’t he? Or the whole crews? Or each of us in our own way maybe. “Are you saying I’m relaxing to be around?” Sanji had to get clarification, Zoro acted like this with Nami and Luffy after the 2years they were separated. What’s changed for Sanji to become one of those people? “You are the first one I’ve seen from the WCI mission, and I’m exhausted. If you were Luffy I’d be on the floor suffocating from his crushing hugs. Plus, you are strong enough to have my back so I’m comfortable relaxing around you. I’m assuming I’m not making you uncomfortable cause you would’ve kicked me away by now” the exhaustion was clear in the swordsman voice. “You taking a nap isn’t gonna help us find the other’s ya’know, but if you insist on some photosynthesis then who am I to stop you.”, the blond quips up, hoping it’ll help the slight awkwardness he felt. 

“I would need sun for that, not shade.”, of course he tries to be smart now. A sleepy feeling slithered down the bond, like getting in a warmed-up bath after being out in the snow all day, but no feeling of bracing for a threat like there usually is. Turning to get a proper view of Zoro’s head, Sanji sees how at peace Zoro is; his head tilted back, a slight smile to his usual scowl, the shade meant he didn’t need to squint his eyes leading him to look more youthful, and his chest was rising in a steady pace. It’s been a while since Sanji last got to see or even feel Zoro like this, possibly the trip from Punk Hazard to Dressrosa, even then there were certain stressors (like their multiple guests) so maybe before that? Then again, it’s been a while since their lives have had any semblance of calm. The rise and fall of the mossheads shoulder against Sanji's felt nice, the physical touch should’ve repelled him, burnt him, had him hissing like a cat at some tinfoil. Instead, the feeling was welcomed, and Sanji spent some of Zoro’s light nap wondering why they don’t behave like this around each other – the answer is Sanji and his embarrassment. Finding that answer led to memories of Momoiro Island and Ivankov’s teaching’s which helped Sanji grow both physically and personally.  

Ivankov gave Sanji a lot of insight on how to learn new fighting styles and grow the ones he currently used. The revolutionary also noticed something new of Sanji that few others have, Sanji shared a bond, a soulmate bond. The soulmate aspect of the bond was news to the cook. He didn’t mean for Ivankov to find out about the strange power linking the two crewmates to each other, but on one particular training day Sanji felt immense pain. Pain so strong that he also felt where on Zoro it originated from, his left eye. Sanji reacted to the pain, screaming until he felt Zoro close off his emotions to the bond. Ivankov wouldn’t let go of what happened, the queen thought it was a side effect from training and wanted to lessen the blond's load. The truth finally came out at the idea of not being able to improve, to catch up to the others, to get strong enough to protect Zoro from that kind of pain in the future.  

Learning the bond was due to the two men being soulmates was an even bigger shock than the fact Skypiea existed. Sanji knew there was some attraction to men, but he got confused quite often – thinking his attraction was more to the other male powers, wishing he had said powers to impress ladies with. When he started to find certain men attractive when they didn’t have desirable powers that’s when the blond started questioning. It was a rough journey and Ivankov didn’t help the acceptance of the newly dug up attractions. Learning Zoro (of all the people in the world, that shitty mosshead?!) was his soulmate only made Sanji’s feelings towards the man more turbulent. Even now, watching Zoro nap peacefully and knowing it was due to Sanji’s presence made his heart beat that little bit quicker, but would he admit that to the swordsman first? No, he needs to know if the swordsman felt the same way, then he would do something about their entwined fate.  

“I hope you figure it out soon, I don’t know how much longer I can pretend.” Sanji muttered, feeling a bit more at peace with their situation then he did a few minutes ago.  

“Hm? Figure out what?” Zoro mused; I should’ve kept my mouth shut, Sanji thought. 

[floatingwithlaura]

big TW for all of this

having an actual breakdown because ive got to a point with my therapist where he is pushing HARD for me to say what i haven’t said. and i know i need to and i even WANT to but there’s so many pieces of me who cannot say it. to have those events validated would be both a fucking HUGE relief but also open so many wounds.

who wants to exist knowing that their ex stepdad used them and abused them for TEN YEARS and that not one single person noticed or did anything about it? not until i told a friend about a related but separate thing he did.

who the fuck wants to know that their fears their whole life, and their nightmares all started because a man thought your body was his toy? he thought i was just some dumb fucking piece of flesh that had no thoughts and feelings of my own.

who wants to realise that their mum ignored all the signs. all the please for his (just physical) violence to stop - because that was all i had the words and memories for at the time?

who wants to fucking piece together the worst parts of their life and go ‘yes this is all real and all happened and i have to live with this pain forever’? be fucking FOR REAL!

from 6-16 my life was hell. i barely existed in that time because i dissociated so heavily. i can hardly trust my body or my brain and i sure as hell can’t trust another fucking person. i was always alone with this shit. no one cared about me enough to ask why i changed.

why did i stop talking? why did i shut myself in my room every day? why did i stop going on family holidays/trips? why could i not look ex stepdad in the eye? why did i feel like the only escape from him would be if he died? why did i want him dead? why is this child so full of anger yet still so numb to everything in life?

why did no one care?

[hobbithabits]

Feeling ✨whimsical and gay✨ so that means short Spones fiction

Leonard McCoy is a grown man–one with a child and an ex-wife–as well as a doctor, and he knows how to control himself. Of course, it means absolutely nothing when your two closest friends can read you like the first letter of an eye exam with 20/20 vision. Especially Spock. The bastard.

Even so, Leonard has gone this long with his stupid secret kept to his chest, and he won’t give it up now that things have shifted. For the first time, Idiot #1 and Know-It-All Prime listened to his medical advice, and they’ve put more effort into actually relaxing. As soon as their shift is over, they step away and do something that gets their mind off of never-ending space.

(Jim insists Leonard is the only one on the entire ship that thinks that way, but everyone and their momma knows that the vastness of existence is terrifying no matter who you are.)

Their compliance gave them more time to spend together as friends instead of coworkers. Jim and Spock play chess for one or two hours nearly every full day cycle. Leonard doesn’t allow himself the same comfort, because being a doctor means being a workaholic (a hypocrite). He spends his time with Jim normally, because he and Spock don’t really hang out on Leonard’s request. If they did, the Vulcan would see right through him like always.

He and Jim do their thing, and then their lovely captain ditches him to play chess. It’s starting to be routine. Except now there’s been some kind of change, because after Jim heads off to change into comfier clothes before meeting with Spock, the green devil walks into the conference room they had occupied.

Leonard doesn’t even have his mouth all the way open before Spock is speaking to him, standing just inside the doorway.

“Doctor, there is something I must discuss with you that I believe will be in your best interest.” Spock has that stupid standard rigidness to him that makes Leonard’s brain squirm. His face, as always, reveals nothing.

“Shoot.” Leonard replies carelessly, before correcting himself, “I mean go ahead. I’m listening.”

Spock doesn’t miss a single beat and begins with no preamble, “In the past week I’ve noticed a change in your mood concerning Jim and I’s time spent together. You could be described as ‘stand-offish’ or perhaps passively aggressive in our interactions concerning Jim, and Jim has noticed a sort of displeasure from you when he leaves to play our games.

“I’ve concluded that you are possibly feeling some sort of envy for our relationship, or even a jealously of me in having Jim’s attention. I wanted to assure to you that the captain and I are simply friends, though close ones, and that Jim would happily spend more time with you if you simply asked him. The same applies for me, if you wish for it.” When Spock is done, he waits patiently for a response, as if he hadn’t just called someone out completely.

Leonard wants to dig a deep hole and hide in it until he dies. He was foolish to think any of the smaller details like that would get past Spock. For such an emotionless bastard, he understands plenty about everyone else’s emotion state. He hates when Spock is right. But technically, he’s wrong too.

Spock is under the assumption that Leonard wants something more from Jim. Leonard wants /everything/ more from Spock. His silence is telling, and he surely has some stupid look on his face that the Vulcan understands, but he can’t let Spock be right. It isn’t in his nature to let the wrong get past him. He opens his stupid mouth before he can think it through.

“You’re wrong. Well, you’re kinda right in the general idea, but you’ve got the details all wrong.” Leonard stands so he can make a quick escape after he’s done being an ass. He closes the large distance between the two of them but wouldn’t dare go too close, so Spock can’t grasp exactly what he means. “I am jealous of you and Jim spending time together. You’re my friends so of course I’ll wanna see you when you aren’t with me.

“It’s just that I’m not jealous of you, thinking you’re together. I’m jealous of him. I am /green/ over the fact that it’s so easy for him to be close to you. I want it for myself. The easiness, the comfort, your attention.

I want you but I won’t have you.”

Spock, for once, is stunned and curious but doesn’t raise an eyebrow. He’s thinking hard, and Leonard can see the gears moving in the twitch of his mouth. It makes him want.

The idiot part of his brain, the part that makes him so ridiculously emotional switches on right then. Then suddenly, Leonard is striding up to Spock, and curling his fingers around the Vulcan’s palm that lies limp by his side. He kisses Spock square on the mouth, and pours every single inch of his thought into the touch, so he can engrave the moment in his mind for after it’s gone forever. It lingers just a millisecond too long for Leonard to completely detach himself from how good it feels. But then it’s over and Leonard is running off with his tail between his legs all the way to his room.

He doesn’t look back and he tries so hard not to think about how open Spock felt in that moment. He fails. He doesn’t answer his door and he doesn’t leave until his next shift starts. It’ll be fine.