#Dead Bug Exercise

[freeonlineworkouts]

Dead Bug Exercise for Beginners: A Step-by-Step Guide

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - Epilogue

Source for pic

Trouble - Epilogue 🔞

Word Count: 6362

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: And here we are... at the end of another installment of my Meet-Cute series. My gosh, three are done and two to go! I guess I never thought I was going to write all of them and I can't take you guys enough for all the support! But hey, I'll leave that to another post! For now, I hope you enjoy the epilogue of this thrilling story. Let me know all about it, please, I'm dying to know if it was satisfying!

Masterlist

Healing isn’t linear.

You thought you were on the right track after moving in with Zoro. You started taking your meds, shared your feelings with your friends, checked in on Shanks every day. More importantly, you don’t keep anything from Zoro anymore.

And you’ve both been very happy. 

Until it all crashes down again, and all the healing you’ve done goes up in smoke, like it meant nothing, and you’re right back where you started: afraid, trapped, small, and vulnerable.

It’s the little things that trigger you. And you find that out the hard way.

-*-

Zoro insists on returning to work, even though his injuries are still healing. He and Mihawk have a terrible argument over the phone until his captain clears him for desk duty with limited hours. 

It’s not what Zoro wanted, but he’ll take it. Since he can’t exercise as often or as hard as he would like, he’ll take this distraction. Besides, you’ve been telling him that you still want to help your father around the farm, as much as you feel capable of doing, and he gets bored being alone with nothing to do. 

It’s on one of those mornings, when the chores are done, Zoro is at the station, and you and Shanks are sharing a mug of coffee by the porch steps that you take another step forward in your healing process. 

“Dad…” You begin with a sigh and Shanks sets down his mug so he can give you his full attention. “I’m sorry.”

He hears the smallness in your voice and cocks his head to the side. “About what?”

“About not feeling at home in your house… I… It’s just…”

Shanks places his arm over your shoulders and pulls you towards him. “You don’t have to explain, Bug. I get it. You don’t even have to apologise for it! All I want is for you to heal and be happy, you know that.”

You do know that. But it still feels like you’re abandoning your father, and it weighs on your chest constantly. 

With a trembling inhale, you blink away your unshed tears. “Yes, Dad, I know that. But… this is the house I grew up in, and it hurts that I can’t call it home anymore. You’re here, and I can’t bear to be inside for more than a few minutes. I’m sorry.”

Shanks pulls back so he can look into your eyes. He has a genuine, though sorrowful, look on his face when he utters your name softly. “Home is not a place.” Your eyes widen as he kisses your forehead. “I could be living on a ship, or anywhere across the world, and home wouldn’t be there… you’re my home.”

“Home is not a place…” You repeat, and he nods. 

“It’s okay if the house you grew up in doesn’t feel like home anymore, Bug. It truly is.” Shanks sets one hand over your heart, still smiling. “Let your heart find your home.”

This time, you can’t stop the tears from flowing down your face as Shanks wipes them away with his thumb. Then you hug him tightly as your chest feels a little bit lighter. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” 

You pull back and stare into his eyes. Lately, and as you’ve been feeling brighter and better, there have been fewer shadows in them, like he’s managing to push the guilt away, so you know that as you heal, your father heals with you.

You’re his home.

“Okay, Dad, I’m going upstairs to fill a bag with clothes, just like I promised my therapist. Baby steps.” You can’t deny that you’re nervous about spending time in your room. You’ve been inside a few times, but only for a few minutes and never alone. Your therapist proposed baby steps to help you face the most triggering situations, and you’ve been trying that. 

That’s why you’ve been helping Shanks around the farm. You had lunch at the farmhouse too, the other day. Granted, you helped your dad cook and then you both ate the meal outside, but it was still progress. 

The walls don’t seem so suffocating, the air is lighter. You can do this. 

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

You nod and get up, dusting off your behind as you take a deep breath and face the door, trying to push the image of the dead cat pinned to it to the back of your mind. 

“I can do this, Dad. Baby steps.” You start walking and then stop, turning around. “Well… maybe you can wait in the living room so I can call you if I need you?” Asking for help is also a baby step, and you take it.

“Sure.” Shanks smiles, collects the mugs of coffee, and heads inside with you. He’s trying to act nonchalant, but you can hear the mugs jingling with the slightest tremor from him. “Oh,” he exclaims suddenly. “Some of your city friends sent you some flowers, I guess the news spread there too, because…” He doesn’t say it, but you make the connection: Ichiji. “I placed them in your room. You know I don’t care much about flowers, and they were for you, so…”

You smile and nod as you start to climb the stairs. “Thank you, Dad!” You haven’t said much to your friends from the city. They’re mostly Ichiji’s friends anyway, but maybe you should text and thank them? Could there be a note on the flowers so you know who sent them?

The thought gets pushed aside as you face your closed door, your heart hammering against your chest as you chew on your lips. 

Baby steps.

You got this.

With a heavy inhale, you turn the doorknob and enter. 

The room is bright, your father has been opening the windows every day to let in the sun and fresh air. Other than that, it seems untouched. Cold, like it doesn’t belong to you anymore. 

But there’s no suffocating oppression, no feeling of entrapment. You got this.

And then your eyes fall on your desk, where the flowers stand, and you freeze. Fresh red roses. A huge bouquet of them.

It’s not King, it’s not him, he’s dead.

Your mind knows this, your brain understands that the bouquet came from your friends. King is dead, it wasn’t him, he wasn’t inside.

He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead!

You can’t breathe. Your chest feels tight, and it hurts as your heart hammers away in an erratic, accelerated rhythm. 

It’s not him!

Your body trembles violently, and you slump on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and shutting your eyes. 

But you still see them. The red roses.

King.

“D–Da–Dad!” You manage to croak out, turning your head towards the open door so he can hear you. Your pills are downstairs, and just the thought of getting up seems daunting. In a matter of seconds, Shanks is kneeling by your side, whispering your name and asking what’s wrong.

“Bug, hey, hey, it’s alright! I’m here! Come on.” He tries to move you, to lift you, but you push him off, shaking your head frantically. You don’t feel safe, don’t feel like you can move, you’re frozen and shaking. There’s only one person that can help.

“Zo…”

Shanks nods and takes the phone out of his pocket, the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes more prominent again.

Zoro picks up the call immediately. “Zoro, she needs you.”

“On my way.” You hear his clipped answer before he turns off the call. He knew what you were doing today, and even if he didn’t, you don’t think Zoro would ask any questions after the words your father just told him. 

You need him. And that’s all he needs to know. 

Shanks holds you and tries to soothe you as best as he can, but he doesn’t understand what triggered you. You have been in your room before, even though you weren’t alone, but you managed somewhat. 

Now it felt like you were reliving the trauma, your shoulders shaking, knowing that you need to get away from this triggering situation, but not managing to do it with your dad. Shanks is safe, you know that, but Zoro is…

Home.

He must’ve broken all speed limits because he arrives at the farmhouse in record time, calling your name as soon as he enters. Shanks answers him, signaling where you are, and you hear dry thuds as he races up the stairs.

He’s breathless and clutching his side when he arrives upstairs because his wounds still bother him, but his eye falls on you immediately. 

You can barely do more than sob and tremble.

Shanks falls back to give Zoro space and starts pacing the room, his fingers running through his hair, and you know he feels as helpless as Zoro felt all those weeks ago. But you can’t seem to focus on anything other than the overwhelming anxiety and the fear that King is somehow still chasing you. 

“Hey, Troublemaker. Still making trouble, huh?” Zoro kneels beside you, his voice soft but frayed, as he treads carefully. His fingers brush your hair as he tries to coax you to look at him. 

You just hug your legs tighter, trying to disappear.

Then Zoro looks around, and his eye widens as he sees the bouquet. “It’s the flowers, Mr. S. Get rid of them.”

Shanks looks confused for a moment, his gaze alternating between Zoro, the desk, and you. But he snaps out of it and does as Zoro tells him, taking them away from the room, away from your sight. And Zoro tries again. 

He calls your name softly, but when that doesn’t work, he sits down and shifts your body so your back is leaning against his chest instead of the wall. Then, he hugs you from behind, his legs around yours as his arms envelop you in a crushing hug. Zoro buries his face in the crook of your neck and tries to slow your breathing by coaxing you to breathe at the same time as him.

After a few minutes, when he senses that you’ve calmed down a little bit, he speaks. “I won’t ever let anything or anyone hurt you again. Hear me?” You nod softly and shrink further into his protective embrace. “Wanna talk about it?”

You inhale a very shaky breath, and Zoro searches his pocket for a few seconds before extending a bottle of pills. “I brought you the emergency pills.” You bite your lower lip, stifling a sob. He remembered your pills. Of course he did.

So you take one because you know you can’t be strong all the time. And then, you turn a little bit in his embrace, just so you can look at him. “The freaking roses…” You say, upset.

“You knew they weren’t from him.” Zoro states, and you nod.

“And it still triggered me.” Zoro nods, his hand finds yours, and he intertwines your fingers. “What if… what if I never stop being afraid, Zo?”

He tightens his hold on you and lowers his head until your foreheads bump. “Then I’ll just keep reminding you that you’re safe. That you’ll never be in danger again. I won’t allow it.”

“That’s not exactly fair to you.” You whisper, and the words still manage to scratch your throat, because how can it be fair for him? Why does he have to be strong for both of you? Why does he have to be the one to ground you and bear all the weight?

Zoro huffs in exasperation. “Tch, like I give a shit about fair, Trouble. You’re stuck with me now, no way out.”

A small chuckle leaves your lips. “Like that’s a bad thing?”

“I hope not.” He smirks smugly and kisses your lips softly. “Still want to grab your stuff, or do we come back another day?”

“I can do it.” You whisper. The roses are gone, you took your medication, and Zoro is here. You can do this. He’s not the only one that needs to be strong. “I want to do it.”

“You got this.”

-*-

Zoro leans against the wooden railing of the stairs, crossing his arms over his chest as his eye never leaves your open door. He’s giving you space to deal with this alone, while still being close enough in case you need him again.

His jaw clenches, and he grits his teeth. Fuck all of this. He can’t stand to see the pain in your eyes, can’t stand the haunted, frightened look on your face everytime something triggers you. If he could kill King again, he would. Over and over and over again.

Motherfucker. 

No matter how hard Zoro tries, he can’t shake away the rage gnawing at his insides, reminding him how he should’ve done better. How he should’ve protected you better. He wasn’t strong enough, or fast enough. 

“Fuck.” Zoro mutters.

“Fuck’s right.” Shanks murmurs as he approaches and mimics Zoro’s stance, leaning against the railing, eyes bored into your bedroom door. Then he hands Zoro a beer. Zoro hesitates, then takes it with a small thanks. 

Both men stand in silence, the words left unsaid linger around them until Shanks sighs after a sip of his beer. “I should’ve been here. I’m her father and I couldn’t even protect her.”

Shanks doesn’t have to say the words for Zoro to recognize guilt in them. The same kind of burden he carries, regret and shame mixed together, sticking on his body like a second skin, like something he can’t wash off. 

“Well...” Zoro takes his own sip. “I was here. And it still wasn’t enough.”

Shanks looks at him, maybe he, too, understands that they share the same sentiment. A bitterness over wanting to turn back time, to change something that can’t be changed. 

“I would give anything to take this pain away from her.” Shanks mutters with a vulnerability that Zoro never saw in him in all the years since he’s known him. 

“Same…” Zoro’s voice sounds raw and vulnerable too and he tightens his grip on the railing, like that can ground him here. 

Silence stretches again. All that can be heard is the rustling of clothes as you store them into a bag, sometimes a heavy sigh as you try to ground yourself. But you don’t call for either of them, so they leave you alone with your demons. 

“Thank you.” Shanks finally says. 

“I…” Zoro clenches his teeth. It feels wrong for your father to be thanking him when you still got hurt. “Yeah.”

“I know you wish you could’ve done more, trust me, kid, I wish for the same every damn day,” Shanks’ hand on Zoro’s shoulder squeezes with understanding. “But you saved her, you bled for her, you were willing to die for her. And that’s all a father can ask. So thank you.”

Zoro nods again, his eye never leaving your door as his throat suddenly feels tighter. Then Shanks chuckles and removes his hand from his shoulder, picking up the beer again and finishing it in one long gulp. “You love her.” 

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. And one that Zoro has no intention to hide from anyone. 

“I do.”

“I know. You have since you both were kids. I could see it a mile away, you idiot.” 

“Oi!” Zoro grits his teeth again, annoyance taking over the sentiment of mutual understanding pretty quickly.

“I trust you.” Shanks sighs and smiles at Zoro, nodding towards your door before straightening up and inhaling deeply. “I trust you to protect her.”

Zoro barely has time to reply before you stride over to them, a weary smile on your lips and a duffel bag hanging over your shoulder. Zoro nods at Shanks, then removes the bag from your hands, carrying it himself. “Ready to go?”

You smile at him and nod. “All good.”

Shanks sighs once more before hugging you a little longer than necessary, then kissing your head. “Anytime you wanna pop up, door’s open, Bug.”

You kiss his cheek and then pull away. “I’m not moving to another island, Dad. We’re literally ten minutes away.” You both chuckle but Shanks’ smile is bittersweet. And so is yours. You know his words have a much deeper meaning, and you’re so grateful to him.

-*-

Healing isn’t the same for everyone. But Zoro is so strong.

Almost two months have passed since the nightmare ended, and there are more times when you feel good than when you feel bad, it’s true. But Zoro is never shaken. 

He’s returned to work full-time, and Nami and Robin got you a part-time job at the firm where they work, just something to fill in the endless void, since idle moments send you spiraling into unwanted thoughts. 

He trains. Harder and harder every day, and he’s just unshakable. Your rock.

Your nightmares still come. Not every night, and they’re not always insufferable. There are more times when they merely jolt you from sleep than times when they completely freeze you. And you take that as progress. 

What you don’t realise at first is that Zoro only acts strong. Zoro seems healed because he never truly lets you see the depth of his wounds. He’s more broken than you know, much more than he lets on. 

And he carries this weight alone. 

The only reason you realise this is that one night, when your nightmare forces you to awaken and search for the comfort of your rock, you find his side of the bed empty and cold. Sitting up, you let your eyes adjust to the dim light before spotting him. 

Zoro sits at the edge of the bed, hands buried in his hair, and elbows resting on his knees. His body is taut and tense, ready for a fight. He’s visibly shaking, though no sound escapes his lips. You call his name softly, but he doesn’t acknowledge you, so you shuffle to his side, hesitate, then wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek lightly against his bare back. He’s freezing.

“Zo…” You call out softly again, tightening your grip, trying to pull him back from whatever hell he’s in. 

With a shudder, he inhales deeply, his face still lost in shadows. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You urge, feeling small and vulnerable because this isn’t like Zoro at all. 

After a moment of silence, when you think he's not going to share anything, he starts talking. His voice is hoarse, rough and frayed, filled with emotion. 

“I see him every night when I fall asleep.” 

Your breath catches, and you press closer. “King?”

“Yes.” Zoro nearly growls, his chest rising and falling in painful gasps, his fingers dig deeper into his skull, as if that’s the only way to keep his rage contained. “I relive the moment in my head every night, but… when I fight him, I lose. And then… he doesn’t kill me, I just… have to watch as he hurts you, touches you, and–” He doesn’t need to finish. “You keep calling for me, screaming my name, begging for my help, and I can’t move, I can’t fucking do anything!” 

Zoro’s voice breaks as his whole body shudders violently and you hug him tighter, tears streaming down your face. 

“I can’t stop him!” His breath falters, and he gasps for air. “I just fucking watch as he takes you over, and over, and over.” Zoro drops his hands from his hair and clenches them into trembling fists. It’s like the words physically hurt him. “Every night I wake up and I’m just so angry! I want to tear the fucking world apart, because I can’t stop him, and he hurts you every fucking time!” Zoro’s shoulders heave with exertion, he’s trying to keep his rage locked tight, to be strong, trying not to break.

“I’m fucking useless. Weak. And I can’t save you.”

Your chest aches, and your eyes burn with more tears. This is your rock, your home, your shelter. And he’s falling apart. All this time, you thought he was fine, that he was handling it. But in reality, he was just faking it. Being strong for both of you when he can’t even keep himself together.

You shift, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. Cupping his cheeks, you gently force him to look at you. 

“Zo, look at me.” He does and you see it again, that hollowness in his eye, the shadows darkening it. It haunts you. “You’re not useless. You were never weak. And you did save me.”

He shakes his head, a pained sound escaping his lips. “It wasn’t enough. He still touched you, still saw you, still hurt you.”

“It’s not your fault.” You press your forehead against his, your fingers pressing tight against his cheeks. “It’s not your fault! You saved me, Zoro. You did. Stop blaming yourself for things that were never in your control. I’m here, you’re here.” You pull back slightly, searching his eye. “And now we move on. Or he keeps winning. We need to move on.”

Zoro holds your stare, his jaw clenching. His chest still heaves, like he’s fighting an internal war, wanting to believe your words, but not wanting to let go of his own guilt. 

“You saved me. He doesn’t get to have your soul too, Zo. He’s already taken enough.”

Zoro swallows hard, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he briefly closes his eye, letting your words sink in. At least you hope they’re sinking in. 

“You don’t have to be strong for both of us, you know? You’re allowed to break and to doubt. You’re not weak because of it.” You peck him softly as he opens his eye. “We get to make each other stronger, okay?”

He nods. Vulnerability still lingering in his eye. Then he hugs you, pulling you closer and tighter against him, to make sure you’re safe, real, and his. You hold him back, your fingers tracing soft patterns through his hair, trying to calm his shaking.

Zoro doesn’t cry, but his body breaks with violent shakes. And you let him, you hold him through it. 

After a moment, Zoro’s hands loosen their hold as he takes a deep breath. They slither under the shirt you’re wearing - his shirt - and caress your waist, climbing upwards to your spine. 

A shiver courses through you at the feel of his calloused touch. He’s warm now. Zoro’s lips press against the hollow of your throat, his hands lowering to your bare thighs, caressing, taunting, igniting a fire.

A low gasp escapes your lips as Zoro’s tongue teases your collarbone, then trails up your neck. You mewl and clench your legs around his sides, eliciting a soft groan from him. 

“Zo…” Another gasp escapes as Zoro’s hands climb again, teasing both nipples at the same time. “You sure?”

It’s still early in the recovery process, and you don’t want to create unwanted frustrations. You’ve tried to be intimate more than once before, but Zoro’s injuries were still too severe, no matter how much desire you felt for each other. 

He groans again, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss in which he demands and you willingly give. Then he pulls back long enough to answer you. “Yes, I‘m sure.” Zoro kisses you again, more teeth, more tongue, more groans. “We’ve waited long enough.”

You sure have.

He pinches your nipples again, and you buck your hips against his crotch, feeling how hard he already is.

“Fuck.” Zoro whispers as he pulls the shirt over your head. “Fuck.” He repeats as he takes a good look at you, then his lips latch on to your pert bud, his tongue circling it languorously. 

“Don’t act so surprised.” Your giggle turns into a breathy gasp as he sucks, your hand caressing the planes of his muscles. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

“Sure.” He answers in a coarse voice. “It still takes my breath away every time.” And then you’re both shuffling to take off the rest of your clothes. Zoro sits you back onto his lap, his hands gripping the back of your thighs as he claims your lips again. 

He pulls you flush, and you feel his girthy cock pressing against your clit. “Fuck.” This time you let out and Zoro chuckles. 

“Don’t act so surprised,” he mimics you. “You’ve seen it before.” Zoro grabs his cock and slides the tip against your nether lips, gathering slick and teasing you, making your breath hitch. Smirking, he stares into your eyes. “Guess it still takes your breath away.”

With a huffed laugh, you crash your lips against his again at the same time as he slides his cock inside you. Parting the kiss, you arch into him, your hands griping his shoulders tight as you adjust to the stretch. Zoro’s forehead dips towards your shoulder, and he grunts in pleasure once he’s fully sheathed, sending another shiver coursing through your body. 

You tighten your legs around him, hugging him, pressing closer in an intimacy that goes far beyond physical connection. Zoro’s hands press your hips as he guides your movements.

“Oh, Zo… that’s…” Biting your lip, you stifle a loud moan. He’s reaching deep, his cock dragging slowly against your walls and repeatedly hitting you just right.

“Yeah, I know.” He answers back with a rough voice, his fingers digging deeper into your skin. This is different from the first time you had sex with him. This is making love: slow, tender, healing. “I got you.”

He picks up the pace, and you meet his thrusts with your own, unable to hold anything back as pleasure builds up in your core, burning your skin, inflaming your desire. Zoro gropes your flesh, his fingers digging into your plush thighs as he thrusts faster. 

You feel pleasure cresting, ready to crash into a wave of rapture, and increase your moans, unable to hold anything back. Zoro’s got you, exactly like he said, so he slides his hand between your bodies, and his thumb finds your swollen nub as he presses and circles it relentlessly. 

“Zoro!” You cry out before bliss surges through you, shaking your body as heavy gasps leave your lips.

Zoro rides your orgasm with you, with sloppy, uneven strokes before he, too, comes undone, hugging you against him as his head disappears into the crook of your neck, behind a litany of hushed words and whispers of your name. 

You both stay still, chests heaving in the aftermath, slight shocks of pleasure still rippling through your body as Zoro is still buried inside you. You take a deep breath and pull back from his embrace, cupping his cheek so he can look at you again.

“You okay?” He nods softly, and you smile. There are fewer shadows in his eye now, and he knows your question was deeper than the physical exertion he just put himself through. 

“We’ll be okay.” He states and kisses you softly. “Together.”

Later that night, you both have dreamless sleep. You know you’ll still face rough nights, sleepless ones, or nights filled with horrible dreams. But as long as you’re together, you can both face it.

Because the nightmare might’ve ended, but you weren’t the only one who survived it.

-*-

The day is bright, warm, and uneventful. 

“Watch out!” Usopp cries loudly as Zoro deflects a ball away from your face effortlessly before cursing at your long-nosed friend and Luffy. 

So, not quite uneventful, but how could it be when you and your friends are all hanging out at the beach?

“You alright?” Zoro asks, still frowning. 

“Didn’t even touch me, Zo.” You giggle as he sits next to you, his feet digging back into the sand as his hand wraps around your thigh and pulls you closer. You have come to terms with the fact that Zoro will be extra protective from now on, and also with the fact that it will always be extremely endearing. “Thank you.”

He leans to kiss you, and you sigh into him. Six months have passed since King. You still carry your meds around as a safeguard, but rare are the days in which you have to take them. 

Mihawk closed the investigation on your stalker since they caught the accomplices and King is dead. Sometimes, reporters still lurk about, trying to get that scoop you never gave them, always failing to get past your guard dog - Zoro laughed when you called him that - especially now that the half-year mark has passed. 

Nami decked one reporter right on the nose a couple of weeks back because he couldn’t take no for an answer. She made the news instead of you, but she wasn’t the least bit bothered by it. Zoro approved. 

While there are still days when you find yourself looking over your shoulder, trembling when you get a sudden text, or double-checking the locks on Zoro’s door before heading to bed, the days that flow freely are the most common. 

And your friends make sure you have plenty of those in their company, because their company is never dull, boring, or uneventful. This time, it was Vivi’s idea to spend a day at the beach. 

And what a wonderful idea it was.

“This feels nice.” You say, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against Zoro’s shoulder, basking in the sun.

“The beach?” He asks as he looks around at all the chaos: Sanji yelling at Luffy, who’s running away from the grill with a piece of meat between his teeth; Kaya helping Chopper put sunscreen on his back and drawing a smile before rubbing it in; Usopp and Barto having a sandcastle contest, to see whose is the best; Brook teaching Vivi how to play the violin; Nami and Robin trying to enter the water slowly, only to be splashed by Sabo and Franky teasingly. “Or the shenanigans?”

You let out a laugh, drinking in all the interactions, letting them warm your heart. “Well, both, but that was not it…” Turning around, you pass your fingers through his green locks and stare into his eyes. “I missed feeling light.” Zoro hums in understanding. “Unburdened… free.”

“Yeah.” He agrees, foreheads bumping. “We’ve earned it.” You nod as you kiss again, softly this time. He’s right, you’ve both earned this peace.

“Come on in, you two! The water is amazing!” Nami calls from the sea, waving her arms at you and Zoro. Then she squeals in delight when Franky sets her on his shoulders so they can have a battle with Robin and Sabo. “Stop sucking face! You’re disgustingly cute!” She shrieks before turning back to try and topple Robin. 

You giggle as Zoro pulls back, calling her a witch and mumbling something about not being cute. 

With a mischievous grin, you get up, face the sea, and look over your shoulder. “Race you, Mosshead!” Then you start to run without looking back, because a grunt and a curse let you know Zoro’s already on his feet, ready to pounce. You don’t even make it halfway into the sea when he wraps one arm around your waist and spins you effortlessly. A loud shriek that turns into a heartfelt laugh fills the space between you as Zoro sets you down, grinning.

“Guess you’re going to naughty jail for real this time, Trouble.”

You place the back of your hand on your forehead and arch back dramatically. “Oh, heavens, whatever shall I do now?” He grins and you poke his nose, smirking playfully. “But since I’m here, and you’re my jailor, you’re gonna have to whip out those handcuffs now…”

Zoro clears his throat as his eye widens, but to his credit, he still maintains his composure. “Yeah, I will. If you misbehave.”

You lean in, brushing your chest against his, riling him up on purpose. “Guess you’d have to teach me a lesson then, wouldn’t you… officer?” The way you sultrily lick your lips, teasing him, has his ears turning red in less than a second. “Or should I call you sir?”

Zoro’s brain short-circuits for a second, and now his whole face is red. Then you start to laugh and he shakes his head, a real laugh emerging from his lips - that deep, rumbling sound that shakes his chest and the smile that opens up his whole face. You love his laugh. 

“You’re impossible!” He exclaims, and you’re about to retort when he picks you up like a sack of potatoes and enters the sea with unforgiving speed, not even giving you time to adjust to the difference in temperature, taking a deep plunge with you in his arms. 

You break the surface with an indignant gasp and try to dunk his head underwater as he laughs at your pathetic efforts. When the laughter dies down, his smile lingers, and he pulls you closer, whispering your name with devotion. “You did it. You made it.”

He’s talking about the healing process, you know that. And he’s right. You’re almost there. And even though some days might set you back, you know that in his company, you can overcome anything.

“No, Zo. We did it.”

-*-

Two weeks. Zoro was gone for two whole weeks.

He had been drafted to another training retreat, no cellphones, no email, just the occasional landline phone call, and it was nowhere near enough. You missed him like crazy. He had considered refusing, claiming that he could not leave you alone. He was sure Mihawk would understand and write up his excuse, if necessary, but you forced him to go.

You knew he needed the training to build his strength back up, and you couldn’t depend on him for all eternity. You knew there would be times when you would have to be alone. So it was a test for both of you. 

The nights were the hardest part, but you managed by curling against Zoro’s pillow, which still smelled like him. Shanks and your friends made sure you were alright and not feeling lonely, and even your therapist checked in on you, but you didn’t suffer any crises, you plowed through. 

It was a victory.

And now, as you wait in the parking lot of the police station, absently chewing on your lower lip and barely containing your excitement by bouncing on the balls of your feet, you can’t stifle the giggle that escapes your lips as you see the bus approach. Raising your handmade sign that reads: ‘Welcome home, Officer Mosshead’, in bright neon green lettering, you grin. You already know he’s going to hate it.

Which is exactly why you crafted it. 

The bus slows down as it enters the parking lot, and the loud psshh it releases as it parks is a prelude to the wild thrumming of your heart. The families gathered around, waiting for Zoro’s colleagues share the same anxiety as you, as wives, husbands, and children wait for their loved ones. 

When the doors open, you raise your sign high with a sheepish grin. There’s already laughter bubbling up from the officers that exit the bus, some of them shout behind in warning to others, so, when your green-haired boyfriend finally emerges, duffle bag swung over his shoulder, he’s already wearing a scowl from all the teasing.

You squeak as his eyes land on you, and though you’re far away, you can practically hear him grumbling curses. 

You’ve missed him. Damn it, you’ve missed him so much.

Unceremoniously dropping the sign on the floor, you start to sprint towards the bus, swiftly evading people as you see the wild green of Zoro’s hair coming closer and closer. 

And then you trip over your own feet, stumble forward, arms spread wide as you brace for impact, but you manage to regain your balance and resume your sprint. When you look at Zoro, he’s sighing in relief, arms stretched as if he wanted to catch you, even though you’re still far. You laugh, and he shakes his head, a grin curving his lips as you take the final steps towards him. 

You leap into his arms without thought or consideration, and he catches you effortlessly, groping the back of your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, burying your head against the crook of his neck and squeezing him against you. 

“Zoro!” You exclaim, breathless as he stumbles back from the force of the impact and hits the side of the bus. 

“Hey, Troublemaker!” He grins at you as you pull back to look him fully in the eye. “Making trouble?”

The laugh that parts your lips is freeing, familiar, wanted. “Yes! So much trouble, you have no idea!”

He laughs too, a laugh that now comes easier to him, at least when he’s with you. “Tch… paperwork on my desk by Monday, right?”

You begin to laugh again, but Zoro takes your lips in his in a breathtaking kiss. The noise he makes when you slip your tongue out to seek his sounds like longing and desperation mixing together, and you grip him tighter and harder, enough to ground you. Your fingers thread through his hair and grip as you both deepen the kiss. 

It’s only when Zoro’s coworkers start to make whooping sounds and tell you both to get a room that you two part, but not before Zoro flips them off with a grunt. Your foreheads bump together, and you caress his cheekbone with your thumb.

“I love you, Mosshead.”

“Oi!” You giggle because he gets annoyed so easily, but his smirk tells you he’s just putting on an act. “I love you too, Trouble.” Warmth spreads in your chest as you get lost in Zoro’s eye. “Let’s go home,” he says.

You nod, feeling light and free. Because, like Shanks said, home is not a place. Home is not the farmhouse, even though now it starts to feel less scary, less tainted, less haunted; home is not Zoro’s quiet apartment, filled with domesticity and happiness; Home is not a place. It's him. 

Zoro is your home. 

THE END

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @elysian-asphodel @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall @moldychefboyardeecan

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[thorougly-melted-brains]

Civilian AU where Ghost and Soap end up flatmates by pure necessity. They didn’t know each other before hand. It was originally Soap’s flat, but it’s too big for his means (and too empty by his standards).

Soap works all day, photography and a few odd side gigs (video editing, graphic design, etc). Ghost works nights as a baker. Their schedules work well, and they don’t really need to see each other.

At first it stays like that, each of them getting home as the other was heading out. Ghost lives minimally but his starts to meld with Soap’s, and the kitchen and fridge stay stocked without fail. There’s two bathrooms but only one shower, so they figure out a schedule. After they’ve been living together for months, Soap gets sick. Ghost gets home and Soap's still there, asleep, having caught some bug at an event. They’d both been sick before, so Ghost figures he should be good by evening, and goes to bed. He wakes up to Soap puking his guts out and realizes he should handle it before they’re both too sick to do anything. He calls out from work.

Ghost makes him soup, airs out his room, and makes sure he’s drinking more than he’s sweating. It isn’t until Ghost rubbing his back after Soap’s thrown up again (apologizing profusely for not being able to keep the soup down) that Ghost realizes it’s the longest he’s ever spent with the other man. It’s comfortable, even though Soap looks half dead and he’s sweating through his and Ghost’s clothing.

He ends up dragging Soap to the couch, an empty pot nearby, and passes out without meaning to (it is, after all, early morning by his nocturnal schedule). Ghost wakes up to Soap’s head on his chest, drooling as he breathes through his mouth. It should disgust Ghost, but it only makes the knot in his chest tighten. He rationalizes it as some kind of pack instinct and moves on, miraculously without getting sick himself.

A few months later, Quarantine hits. Soap adapts smoothly, taking online work and covering their rent. Ghost takes it harder, his broken schedule leaving him disoriented and with too much time to think about whatever he is to Soap. He feeds their whole apartment complex with his pent up energy, spending half his day sitting in front of the oven watching the batter rise, just so he doesn't spend it in bed.

Soap, happy for the opportunity to pay Ghost back, cares for him. He’s well aware of his own feelings, but unlike Ghost, has made peace with them. He assumes Ghost's trouble is the schedule change, and maybe a dip (He’s seen Ghost’s prescriptions when cleaning). Soap’s read enough self-help to guess exercise would help, so he invites Ghost on his morning walk. It quickly turns into a morning run, and then a race through the empty streets. Lifestyle differences aside, they’re a perfect (or disastrous) match of competitiveness. As the quarantine ends, they both shift their hours to accommodate at least one shared meal.

Dating is not a new routine for them but a conglomeration of every whatever they were doing before, and a relief to their immediate friends. The paperwork comes sooner than they expect when Soap brings up his emergency contact. When Ghost becomes immediately solemn, bringing up insurance and wills, Soap wants to write it off as another macabre tick until Ghost grabs him by the shoulders to impress upon him, “You don’t know what an industrial mixer can do to someone.”

[heartfeltcherie]

i had this idea pop into my head a couple nights ago and i finally put it into words! hope u all enjoy <33

wc 662

☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •

yet another meeting.

charlie had gathered everyone in the hotel’s lounge area for a rundown of new team building exercises that she wanted to explain to everyone. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested in helping out, you were.

it was just the fact that the couch cushions you were currently sat on were providing the utmost comfort and it also wasn’t helping that you were trying not to nod off in between sentences — you swear you closed your eyes at “trust fall exercises” and opened them back up at “writing out your feelings is also important”

and then there was the red radio demon you were sat beside.

alastor.

everyone feared his presence, wouldn’t dare to even look in his direction. but the way he was with everyone else, he wasn’t the same way towards you. you didn’t know how to describe it; sitting beside him right now, you felt a sort of… warmth. and of course with that usual smile he has plastered on his face, you don’t know which emotion he’s feeling.

but it doesn’t make you wanna run away and hide. instead, you feel contentment. you feel safe next to him, even though you know that he could have you dead in cold blood within seconds.

and this is perhaps the fifth time he’s watched you, out of the corners of his eyes, nod off for what seems like five seconds, only to almost jolt awake again in what seems like… panic? oh you poor little thing.

“you know, cher” he’s not even focused on charlie’s tangent anymore, instead on you, the tired little doe that can barely keep her eyes open. he still keeps his eyes trained forward. “if you’re feeling so out of sorts, i could provide you with a tad bit more comfort, if you truly desired” his voice is a low whisper, careful not to disturb the other hotel stayers as he’d rather not bring attention to the fact that he maybe cares about someone. how preposterous.

you look up at alastor through your tired eyes. he has one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on his kneecap — you think he looks so handsome sitting this close to you. he meets your gaze with a turn of his head, careful not to cause such a commotion as he glances between you and his shoulder.

oh?

it’s a very sweet gesture. especially coming from the radio demon himself because you know he hates when people invade his privacy. and even though you’ve always wondered what it’s like to fully be in his touch…

you’re scared, shy, all of the above.

and you think the dust of pink on your cheeks gives it all away.

“no need to get so bashful on me, sweetheart, it’s just a simple gesture. besides i can’t have a belle like you being exhausted all day, now can i, hm?”

alastor trains his focus back towards charlie as you shyly take his offer, slowly laying your head down on his suit-clad shoulder and it’s… very cozy, you decide. the small amount of contact feels very serene as you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. and god forbid anyone looks in your direction, otherwise you probably wouldn’t hear the end of it. especially angel dust who’s been bugging you about your little crush on the radio demon.

you decide to go a bit further and link your arm around his, only for a bit more warmth your mind declares is the perfect excuse while your heart fluttering in your tummy, watching for any disapproval alastor has. but he shows none. it’s the greatest feeling in the world to be this close to him. you shouldn’t get used to this… but god, do you want to, so bad.

“you gonna put me to bed too after this?” you whisper jokingly in alastor’s ear, seeing his ear twitch just the slightest. how can an overlord be this adorable?

“don’t push your luck, cher”

please reblog/comment if you enjoyed my work, it’s greatly appreciated ♡

[deancrowleycas]

Favorite Shots Per Episode ✩ 1.08 Bugs (2/2)

mention of the Psycho shower scene montage under the cut

Kim Manners probably just thought of a Psycho homage and 'fun' montage but dare I say they are starting early in microaggressing Dean around his performativity. Not only is Dean shown enjoying taking care of his body - which outside of physical exercise sadly has mostly feminine connotations in Western society - he is also established in a sort of sameness to the other women in these shots. In previous episodes we see Dean trying hard to conform to hegemonic masculinity, the epitome of it visible in his absent father, being that kind of Han Solo hero saving - and getting - the woman in the end (like in Wendigo and Dead in the Water). Though as early as in episode 3 we also see him taking care/opening up and get a view behind the facade. I think it's funny that this is the most honest portrayal of Dean that we have seen so far - makeup washed away, symbolically speaking, but also subject to his father and his brother and the gaze of the audience.

[mayflora-18]

Incorrect CoD Quotes #9

Price: There’s something wrong with the kid.

Laswell: Like what?

Price: *holds up a photo of a spider*

Roach: Ew.

Price: *holds up a photo of a cockroach*

Roach: Me.

Price: *holds up a photo of a lady bug*

Roach: *tips his helmet* Evening, ma’am.

Price: You see what I mean?

———

Roach: *sneaks into the barracks at 2am*

Price: *turns in a swivel chair* Care to to tell me where you were?

Roach: I was with… uh… Ghost!

Ghost: *also turns in swivel chair* Care to tr- *keeps spinning* uh Boss- I can’t stop the chair-

Roach: I meant… I was with Garrick.

Gaz: *turns on the light* Honestly Sanderson, you would think Roach would know how to be sneakier.

Roach:

———

Price, walking in: The training grounds are closed because of the ice storm.

Soap: Great! No training!

Soap: *looks out the window* Is Ghost still walking to the training grounds?

Soap: *opens window* HEY DIPSHIT, TRAINING’S CANCELLED!

Ghost: *looks around, confused* GOD?!

———

Ghost: Remember what I taught you.

Farah: The quickest way to a man’s heart is through the fourth and fifth ribs.

Alex: Ghost no!

———

Ghost: *can’t sleep because of nightmares*

Ghost: Listen to your therapist they said.

Ghost: You’ve been through a lot of trauma they said.

Ghost: *throws pillow* WELL YOUR BREATHING EXERCISES AREN’T WORKING NOW, ARE THEY DEBORAH!!

———

Rudy: I have a bad feeling about this.

Alejandro: What do you mean?

Rudy: Don’t you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if something will get you into trouble?

Alejandro: No?

Rudy: That actually explains so much.

(This could work between Rudy and Soap too, honestly).

———

Nikolai: Physically I’m here but spiritually I’m lying in a Waffle House parking lot somewhere in rural Kentucky, slowly bleeding out from several stab wounds.

Sherlock: Mood.

———

Roach: I want to be a caterpillar.

Sherlock: Explain?

Roach: Eat a lot, sleep for a while. Wake up beautiful.

Sherlock: You know that they have a lifespan of, like, two weeks right?

Roach: That’s another highlight.

Soap: ROACH NO-

———

Sherlock: How do people just stay motivated their entire lives? What drives you? I got out of bed once and I’ve been exhausted ever since.

Ghost: You need to learn to hate life to the point where you want revenge on existence itself.

The rest of the 141:

Nikolai: *nods in agreement*

Roach: *furiously takes notes*

———

Soap: Is e seo do choire gu lèir.

Ghost: I know, I know.

Gaz: You know Gaelic??

Ghost: No, I just know the phrase “this is all your fault” in every language he speaks.

———

Roach: Sleeping is nice because you’re not exactly dead and you’re not awake so it’s a win-win situation.

Sherlock: It’s like being dead without the commitment.

Nikolai: An open relationship with death.

Farah: Death with benefits.

Ghost: An every night stand.

Meanwhile, everyone else in the background: *absolutely horrified*

———

*1am at 141 base*

Soap: If I drink Red Bull and NyQuil will I stay up or pass out?

Ghost: …Get off the fridge and go to bed like a normal human being.

*Later*

Ghost: SHERLOCK I HAVE A QUESTION!

Sherlock: Ghost what the fuck it’s 3am.

[entities-of-posts]

I used to hate bugs. They were unnerving with how they skittered, too many legs, too many eyes. As I grow older, I've started to love them. They're creatures so alien from us. Recently, moths have moved into our house.

I've been trying to keep them away from our home, for their safety. It's reached the point where I find them in my closet from time to time.

I found one of them dead today. I took them outside, and left them there to rest. My sister, who is particularly interested in taxidermy, found it, and cut it up, pinning the parts in a box. I've found myself grieving the moth, and feeling unusually frightened by the box.

May I ask for advice, Archivist?

This advice will have nothing to do with fear, and all to do with love; insects are simply very small animals, just as important as the biggest ones, and so many people are unjustly cruel to them for the crime of being strange and alien to us large mammals. Bugs in your house is just nature creeping in, as she always does, into every empty space. And death is part of nature. You’re frightened of the box because you’re frightened of death, and realizing the passing of something small is just as worth mourning as that of something big.

You can grieve for a moth. It’s good to. You are exercising your compassion for other living things. That doesn’t need fixing.

[ficsandgiggles]

Core Muscles (Natasha x Yelena x Reader)

“Ahh so pleased your prompts are open again! I’m not great at asks but how about reader x one of/a combo of the Marvel girls (actors or characters, up to you) training in the gym. Reader is working on core strength and one of the girls points to the muscles reader should be working on and reader loses it because their stomach is their worst spot so of course the girls go to town. Have some fun with it!”

A/N: I really hope this is okay! I have no knowledge about these types of exercises although I wish I had the motivation to learn/do them 😂 but I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Word count: 1255

Warnings: None

“So you’re working on your core strength today?”

You jumped when you heard another voice, but relaxed when you recognised it, turning around to see Natasha enter the gym, wearing a tank top and gym pants with her hair up in a ponytail.

You vowed to yourself that you would start looking after your body more, as you knew that sometimes you needed more than just your powers in a fight or for self-defence in general.

You nodded in response to Nat’s question. “Yeah… I heard that having a stronger core can do more than just give you abs, it can help balance and stuff.” You replied, briefly looking at the mirror, you had some insecurities with your body, but you could see improvement. But now you regret wearing a crop top since you were no longer alone.

“You’re learning your stuff,” Natasha commented with a smile, going towards the punching bag. “If you need any help, give me a shout, I’ll be here for a bit.” She told you before beginning her workout.

“Thanks…” you replied quietly, trying to concentrate and return to what you were doing. You decided to do the classic plank, despite hating it, there were a lot of benefits in doing it. So you got down and stretched into the position. You went into your own little world, trying to stay there for as long as possible. You were so zoned out that you didn’t notice that Yelena had walked into the room.

“You are putting yourself through torture by doing the plank you know.”

You snapped out of your head and collapsed, turning around to see Yelena smirking. “I was getting to my record time!” I whined, getting up to shove at her.

“Oh boo hoo, if you’re looking at strengthening your tummy muscles I can show you a few more exercises you can do.” She offered, and you immediately nodded, anything that avoids doing the plank.

“Okay, so you will need to be on the floor on all fours, then you stretch out an arm and then the opposite leg and switch. It’s called the bird dog.” She chuckled as you followed her directions.

You could definitely feel your core muscles working and got more and more confident as you tried to extend your limbs higher and higher, thus arching your back a little.

“You do not need to stretch high, it’s about control.” Yelena guided, putting her hands on your ribs to gently move you back to the original position, making you flinch and briefly bring your arm back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” She asked, you immediately shook your head, smiling innocently.

“Oh, no, I just didn’t expect you to touch me.” You replied casually, doing a few more rounds of the exercises before giving yourself a break.

Your eyes flickered towards Natasha, who was watching the two of you, she gave you a brief smirk as if she had already figured out why you reacted the way you did when her sister touched you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I will be more careful next time.” The blonde apologised. “Another classic exercise though is called the dead bug, and you need to be on your back for this one.”

You nodded, rolling over so you were lying on your back, Natasha had now stopped her workout completely to observe you and Yelena, but you didn’t say anything and listened to the blonde.

“So it is basically like the bird dog but you’re on your back and you are bending your knees toward you instead of stretching it out.” She got on the floor and gave you an example, you quickly understood what she was doing and started doing the same.

“You are arching your back a little,” Yelena told you, already forgetting what she said about being more careful when touching you and putting her hand on your tummy to gently push you back down flat onto your back.

Once again, you flinched and dropped your arms and legs, blushing as Yelena gave you a confused look.

“Are you okay?” She asked, concerned that she had hurt you again.

“They’re fine, they’re just like you,” Natasha replied on your behalf, coming over and skittering into her sister's ribs briefly, causing her to yelp and slam her arms down, before smirking over at you.

“Oh, that’s what it is?” Yelena asked, lighting up a little as she knelt next to you and put a hand on your shoulder to hold you to the floor so you couldn’t escape. “Are you ticklish, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head as you tried to wiggle away, but it only made Yelena skitter her fingers into your ribs with her free hand.

“Pretty sure they are,” Nat replied, smiling a little before sitting on your ankles, not doing anything just yet but it was enough to make you gasp and wiggle even more, despite knowing that you couldn’t throw the Black Widow off your legs.

Yelena grinned, now just going for it and using both hands to skitter up and down your sides and ribs, causing you to arch your back with a giggly squeal. “Hehehehey nohohoho!”

“It seems that you’re right, Natasha, very ticklish indeed, and laughing helps with strengthening core muscles as well so this could be a part of your exercise routine!” Yelena beamed and now scribbled into your belly, causing you to squeal with laughter, especially since Nat started tickling your feet.

“GUHUHUHUYS QUIT IHIHIHIHIT!” You screeched, scrunching your toes up whilst shoving at Yelena, shaking your head helplessly.

“Yelena is right Y/N, laughing is highly beneficial, so I think this needs to happen more often,” Nat commented loud enough for you to hear as she held your toes back to scribble underneath them whilst Yelena now experimented with a raspberry.

You blushed, your laughter going silent as Yelena blew the raspberry, you weakly pushed at her head as you squirmed around as much as you felt able to.

Eventually, they let you up, and you immediately curled up, taking in deep breaths with the occasional giggle slipping out.

“That was… so mean…” you huffed out, making the two women chuckle fondly, Yelena ruffling your hair.

“I don’t think it was, I think you loved it more than you know.” Yelena teased, to which you flipped her off.

“Hey!” Yelena gasped and briefly dug under your arms the second you sat up, making you shriek and slam your arms down. “You know I’m right!”

You remained quiet, looking at Natasha and watching for any judgement. The redhead just smiled fondly and nodded, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, Y/N, it’s quite sweet if it’s true, we’re happy to do it whether it’s to strengthen your core muscles or just to cheer you up.” She reassured, pulling you into a hug, which was swiftly joined by Yelena who didn’t want to feel left out.

“This is not the last time I’m going to tickle you because it was just plain adorable.” She teased, suddenly raspberrying your neck to make you squeal before letting you go.

“Now come on, I’ll challenge you to a planking contest, all three of us.” Yelena grinned as the two women pulled away and got into position, followed by you doing the same.

Of course, you lost, and happily accepted the punishment for being the loser. But you didn’t mind, it brought you closer to the Widow sisters whilst enjoying the feeling of just letting yourself laugh for a bit.

[solacescastleglow]

My Favourite Full Body Flows

I fear I am turning into a gym bro. I exercise every day now, because it turns out if I skip one day I'll skip the next, and the next, and so on. Honestly, I'm not even mad about it, I love the fact that my body can do all this now. Anyway, I've been trying out different movements, and here are my favourite ones put together into a routine that works for me. These are also low equipment (all you need is two dumbbells and a yoga mat if you want to save your knees), so they're really easy to do at home.

Weekly Routine

Monday, Friday - Restorative

Tuesday, Saturday - Mobility

Wednesday, Sunday - Strength

Thursday - Fencing class

Whenever I feel like it - Other stuff like badminton, dancing, etc.

Restorative

Goal: Keep my body moving even when I'm busy or tired, have a good time

Frequency: 2x/week

however many sets I want to do :)

1 minute of intuitive movement (ankle and wrist circles, neck rolls, side stretches, really whatever I feel like)

3x 5 second butterfly stretch

1x supine twist per side

10x floor angels

10x windshield wipers

20x happy baby rocks

10x sphinx nods (rounding out my shoulders when I look down)

psoas release (like this)

10x child-seals

5 minutes with my legs up against the wall while hugging myself

Mobility

Goal: General mobility so that I don't feel terrible

Frequency: 2x/week

2-3 sets, scattered throughout the day when I feel like it

10x chin tucks

10x shoulder rolls

10x ankle circles

5x cossack squats (supported)

5x wrist weight bearing rocks (with my fingers facing forwards, then outwards, then backwards)

5x ankle rocks

5x thoracic twists

10x floor angels

5x hip flexor arcs

10x dead bugs

20x bicycles

5x child-seals

1x supine twist per side

Strength

Goal: Reverse atrophy caused by long-term illness, build up upper body and deep core strength

Frequency: 2x/week

1 set, it's a lot and I get bored really easily

Warm-up

5x shoulder circles (each way)

5x arm swings

5x wrist circles (each way)

5x ankle circles (each way)

5x hamstring sweeps

Main bit

5x incline pushups (currently on 4 stairs' incline)

20x bicep curls (while pacing around the living room)

20x armpit rows (still pacing)

10x overhead tricep extensions

10x heel raises

5x march and hold (5 second holds)

5x cossack squats (supported)

5x kneeling wrist lifts

5x wrist weight bearing rocks

5x alternating bird-dogs

30 second plank

15 second side planks

5x slow dead bugs

10x bicycles

20x scissor kicks

5x 5 second boat pose hold

5x marching glute bridge

Cool-down

5x child-seals (can you tell I love this one?)

1x supine twist per side

[freeonlineworkouts]

Dead Bug | How to Do Dead Bugs for Beginners?

[guruneko]

“What will become of my dear friend?

Where will his actions lead us then?"

For People who are unaware of my spontaneous Vampire AU, here is a small recap (or refer back to this blog posts from previous years): 

2022

2023

Vampires are seen as mosquitoes in this world. They visit humans very frequently so they are viewed as a nuisance. Especially if the Vampires enjoy your blood type, they visit the same household over and over. It’s kind a similar to how we view grocery stores. So because of that, a lot of people do have repellants to ward off these pesky vampires. However, some witnesses have stated that the Vampire are very beautiful so a lot of people purposely do not hang any repellants to get the chance to see vampiric beauty.

 Much like how we have bug control, they have Vampire Hunters. The biggest Vampire Hunters is the Takahashi Household. They are famous for their skilled work and their various hunts of the strongest vampires. It has been said that they purposely maintain their body to provide delicious blood to the vampires to purposely attract them (almost like moths to a flame). Many Vampires are aware of this so despite the tempting smell, so they usually hold back except for one Vampire named Takumi. In which that he does prove the rumours are very true. Their blood is by far the best even compared to the most wealthiest blood in the market. 

If you’re wondering as to how Vampires get their blood, there isn’t much of a law system so a Vampire can steal a human’s blood without punishment. The Vampire can either choose to hunt or simply buy it from the market. Similar to our meat market, there are grades to the blood.

 First being Commoner blood, the most standard level of blood. Next is High blood, usually are owners of wealthy humans. Next up is Aristocrat, as the name states, blood from old nobility. Depending on the name, the price can vary. After that is Royal blood, known for its prestige. Then lastly, Hunter’s blood which is the only unattainable blood since every Vampire who tried to acquire it usually ends up being dead. It’s the most sought after blood due to the smell of it being so good that even without tasting it, you just know it would be divine. 

(Fun fact, the wealthy vampires actually enjoys the Aristocrat and High blood more than the Royal blood. The Royal blood is known to be a little too sugary and the lack of exercise ruins the taste.) 

I always like to imagine this vampire AU as a weird musical and oddly enough, Nightmare before Christmas and The Phantom Opera always get the perfect vibe. 

No really, I have this mini musical in my head that if I don’t sketch it out, I will go insane. 

The funniest part when I first was writing this, it was started off as a joke. When I heard that Vampires are beautiful to lure humans in, I just thought about closeted dudebros. Like what if some dude fell in love with a Vampire but blamed it on the Vampire’s charm. Rather than realizing his feelings, he is like “THIS VAMPIRE IS CURSING ME WITH HIS HANDSOMENESS. YOU DEMON.” And the Vampire is like, “Dude, I wasn’t even trying to charm you.” 

Like wouldn’t it be funny of an over dramatic man being like, “BE GONE YOU FOUL BEAST” and he throws a piece of garlic at the vampire and he is like, “ow…. You asshole…. You could have just told me to leave” 

If you would like to know yes, Ryosuke does bring up the ridiculousness of Keisuke being in a relationship with a vampire despite him being a Vampire Hunter. Of course, Keisuke would do the cliche thing of “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND OUR LOVE” and just storm off. 

[kinopio-writes]

Good morning/afternoon/night! Could I request a fic where a male reader is super friends with Niffty, but he's a pyromaniac war criminal who causes a lot of problems so everyone hates him except Niffty? Never found many fics with her so I wanted one, can be in whatever format you wish :)

A/N: This is really interesting. You chose the perfect character for this. ‘Everyone hates him except Niftty’ made me remember a TikTok video with the audio, ‘He looks angry. Why does everyone always look at you that way?’, but it’s with Alastor. Also, that implies that even Charlie hates you (definitely not as much, so I guess it’s more of a dislike), so I’m also going to specify why everyone hates/dislikes you except Niffty.

Also, this is formatted in headcanons because that’s so much easier and I don’t want another Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader case where it took me more than 3 weeks to finish writing a oneshot.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, Probably not mentally okay reader

———

Niffty w/ a Pyromaniac War Criminal!Reader

• your introduction to her was literally indirectly burning a part of the hotel

• while she may not have liked the mess, one thing was for sure:

• you’re a bad boy

• so she was glad to know that you were going to stay at the hotel

• she instantly made it known that she liked you

• “I’m Niffty.” She approached you rapidly as she giggled. “I like you—”

• you interrupted her by pushing her off when she tried climbing on you

• “Get the hell away from me,” you seethed

• “Woah, woah, woah.” You flinched at the hand that tried to break you two apart. “What’s wrong?”

• neither of you replied to the princess

• Charlie sighed at the lack of response, and as both of you left the room to continue the tour, you gave Niffty a nasty glare

• she only grinned at that

• she would follow you around a lot

• and you would snap at her each time

• but she seemed relatively unphased

• that was your dynamic for a while

• eventually, her advances come to a stop when she realizes that you were a bad boy…

• ...who was just lonely

• yeah, no thanks

• Niffty stopped seeing you as a potential love interest after that

• and that was when your friendship started blossoming

• because she was really the only friend you could make

• Charlie…tried liking you. But you made it difficult. You wreck the hotel at least once a week, you don’t participate in any exercises and prefer to sit in a corner to burn shit, and you just…didn’t have any redeeming qualities. But…she still had hope, so she’s still letting you stay

• Vaggie just distrusts most people who come her way, and causing problems in the hotel just increases her hatred for you more (Charlie’s the only reason why she hasn’t kicked you out)

• Angel Dust just knew not to mess with you

• Alastor didn’t like you for causing problems in the hotel as well, surprisingly (he doesn’t have much male friends, so, no luck here)

• Husk also knew not to mess with you

• and you spook the fuck out of Sir Pentious even if you’re on the other side of the room

• that leaves you around Niffty quite often

• you like her because she doesn’t judge you

• and Niffty felt the same

• you watch her frame her dead bugs nonchalantly (you help her do them sometimes)

• you also even help gather them by setting them on fire (Niffty stashes the ashes in jars, categorized by species)

• remember in episode 3 where Niffty confessed her secret about killing mother bugs in front of their children? You laughed at that

• the other residents may think you two are an odd pair, but who cares?

• you two fit each other quite well

[b3tsuushin]

Stories for the Sea: Masterlist

Six months after the end of a war, you have not reached the end of the war. Post-TYBW.

ft. Rukia, Renji, Matsumoto, Hitsugaya, Kensei, Rose, Hisagi; Hinamori, Kira, (Kaien)

Part I

⟢ Chapter 1: Rukia receives her first summons from Captain Commander Kyouraku since Ukitake’s death.

⟢ Chapter 2: There’s nothing brisk exercise, some Pocky, and a few weird bugs can’t solve. Renji tallies the damage and devises a game plan, sort of.

⟢ Chapter 3: Kensei’s been trying to learn how to have bygones, but it’s not like that’s the Gotei’s style. Just saying.

⟢ Chapter 4: Hinamori, Hitsugaya, and water cooler talk—minus the water cooler. And Hitsugaya.

⟢ Chapter 5: Matsumoto thought she knew how it felt to be swallowed. She is re-learning the feeling, from the inside out.

⟢ Chapter 6: Akon can tell a hell of a campfire story.

⟢ Chapter 7: Rukia’s long night of tending the dead.

[bleachbleachbleach]

Bleach Fanfic: Stories for the Sea

Summary: The Shiba Clan have always acted as peacebrokers between Soul Society and the sea in West Rukongai. After the Blood War, the Gotei must prove that they are still worthy of peace. But since Shiba Kaien is dead, Rukia’s the next best thing—allegedly. The problem is, now Ukitake is gone, too, and Rukia doesn’t think she’s ready to carry Kaien’s memory alone.

No one’s ready. Not the Vizard, as the reality of re-joining the Gotei begins to clamp down; not the 10th, which has its own debts to West Rukongai; and not Renji, who’s pretty sure he is. The most deadly threats may not be the monsters lurking in the woods and water, but the damage they’ve all brought with them. One thing that’s certain: Six months after the end of a war, you have not reached the end of the war.

ft. Rukia, Renji, Matsumoto, Hitsugaya, Kensei, Rose, Hisagi; Hinamori, Kira, (Kaien)

⟢ Chapter 2: Abarai Renji

There’s nothing brisk exercise, some Pocky, and a few weird bugs can’t solve. Renji tallies the damage and devises a game plan, sort of.

This mission, Renji decides boldly, is just the Gotei United Futsal League redux. That’s all. There, as here, no one had liked each other and only half of them had actually wanted to be there. They’d still found enough team spirit to field six games a season and suffer zero casualties, and that’s including the year Ikkaku got involved. Ikkaku, who firmly believes that sportsmanship belongs in battle, but not sports. All Renji needs to do is figure out how to make that happen with this crowd. Easy! Well, doable. Or at least, probably not a complete wash. —If he’s very lucky.

[Read on AO3]

[lighthouse-system]

Content warning for bugs, dead bugs. I did a sketch exercise of showing Sonic's character without dialogue. Just a sketch comic though! And don't think about how IRL hedgehogs eat bugs. It'll ruin the entire thing lol

For screen readers: all comic images except the last one are three panels.

[valfreyarbor]

Hello! You left a comment on my post about deities related to death, and after seeing it, it feels a lot like my situation at the moment. So, if you don't mind of course, would you like to explain perhaps part of your practice or how these deities have helped you become calmer with this topic, presumably? You obviously don't have to do anything outside of your comfort zone ^^

Oh my goodness gracious a real person in the world who’s interested in my spirituality?!? Somebody pinch me. And warning this is gonna be long, so if you don’t wanna read it all there’s a TLDR at the bottom.

To talk about my relationship with Hel, I should start with how I got into paganism in the first place. On my 20th birthday I started having multiple panic attacks a day about my mortality, non-existence, dying, the whole process, etc. I tried talk therapy, exercising, researching the latest life-extending healthcare and body preservation options.

THEN I finally started taking anti-depressants, and that got the multiple a day down to daily/every other day. But something was still missing, because it felt like just a numb acceptance of everything.

My husband (boyfriend at the time) was really big into developing your own spirituality and finding your own path outside of institutions, and inspired by him I decided to read into neopaganism/wicca/the goddess movement+hypothesis. One night after reading through all sorts of theories as to who this multi-syncretic goddess figure could be, I decided to stop reading and start meditating about it.

I lit a candle and started to whisper these goddess names softly. Hekate, Inanna, Morrigan…and something was different about Freyja. Thought at the time she was the deity I knew least about from a pantheon I felt no connection to, my entire body got goosebumps and the candle infront of me flickered beyond it’s normal pattern. Finally, the taste of a spiritual experience.

Reading about her after that experience was really engaging and enlightening, and I was so comforted to read about folkvangr. It seemed like this heavenly field of an afterlife that I could be swept up into and away from…whatever else there was to death in Norse paganism. And to know what I felt like Freyja was “saving” me from, I started to read not only about the goddess Hel as we understood her from a historical side, but also from a neopagan perspective to see what others thought of her and her realm. Highly recommend Ocean Keltoi’s video about her, because it opened my mind to showing her respect in the same way you might any other grim reaper figure, but with much more kindness and understanding to the downtrodden. I mean, the myths say she herself was put into the position of guarding for this realm because her and her siblings were being punished for the crime of being born. A deity with a myth like that sounds like she’d be understanding of what it’s like to be “cast out” of anywhere, and leaving the realm of the living is the ultimate “cast out” we all face.

So I started to pray for every dead bug, roadkill carcass, and cemetery I passed by. And it was a really simple call: “Hel hold them.” And a couple months after that, was when I first encountered her.

I was packing up from an AirBnB stay and I stopped to notice a bug in the hallway. It was buzzing around in a circle on the cold cement ground, and when I looked up and away, I saw her for just a second:

She was quietly standing beside the bug covered in a long, black cloak that obscured the walls around her. Underneath the hood I could see that her face was not exactly split in half like popular depictions, but it exhibited two characteristics at the same time. Soft and aged? Dark and sunken in as well as…lightened? Pale wrinkled skin that was supple around her cheeks and gaunt/shadowy by her eyes and neck. It was like she could have been 19 or 109 at the same time, but again I only saw it for a second before the vision disappeared. It very well could have been a trick of my eyes and brain, and I won’t deny that. But if there really was something behind it…then I know what I saw. And thinking now on it I treat this as an important lesson for the foundation of my faith in her: she’s there with everyone who passes. Even the bugs. No one ever faces their “casting out” from the living realm truly alone.

A couple months after that I had a dream that I was walking in a barren wasteland with tattered clothes, and in my arms I was carrying a dead black puppy. And normally I’m quite put off by dead bodies, quickly saying my prayer and driving/walking on after. But this dog….i looked at it and I just felt so much sorrow, but also love. Deep, unconditional and unbound love. I stroked his fur gently, kissed his head and cradled him until I found a soft spot on the ground to rest him. I was crying in the dream but not from fear, from the overwhelming serenity of this specific grief. A goodbye with true closure. I woke up crying from that dream.

A month after that, I had another dream of two puppies playing, this time one black and one white. I was accompanied by an old man in a wide hat, carrying a staff. He explicitly told me that what I was watching is a metaphor for the relationship between Hel and Baldur, and that they became playful friends after she welcomed him into his domain. I woke up from that dream not crying, but just…amazed. That confirmed to me that I was being called to a specific pantheon to use in order to identify these new energies I felt and understood.

And I guess as a last note: I was an atheist from ages 10-21. Even when I was calling out names and I felt the goosebumps, I wasn’t entirely sure of what I was experiencing. And maybe these dreams aren’t coming from anything other than my brain. But the serenity, the peace, the acceptance that I feel radiating from me when I wake up from these dreams have healed me more than anything else I’ve ever tried. I only listed a couple here but there’s more.

So TLDR: Start praying for roadkill, keep a dream journal and thank you for asking me anything at all! Best of luck with your journey trying to figure this all out too, it isn’t easy ✨🖤✨