#( no problem!!!

[andresdefonollosa-archived]

@cortezlaundress (continued from here)

“Really?” Berlin tilted his head as he studied the woman carefully. There was something about her that seemed to contradict with her words. He didn’t think she was telling the truth. “So, there’s nothing in your life that’s ever made you lose it?” He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

[newkidsoftheday]

thank you so much god

!!!

[devilofthecresentisle]

@voyagerofthesun from here

“I very clearly remember you wearing heeled boots, Sinbad. They made for a funny spectacle when you would try to race someone on the beach.” The captain teased, grinning. 

“Yeah, It’s really me. What? You think I forgot I promised t’ come see yer country if you fulfilled that dream of yours?” The woman chuckled, her hands on her hips as she stood in front of him. Though after a moment her expression softened and she hugged the violet-haired man, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

“I’ve really missed you, ya know.” She had traded her sea worthy clothing for garments that more closely resembled when his citizens wore, so as to not attract any unwanted attention. It impressed her to see how much he had accomplished since the last time they saw eachother. 

Martha had accomplished a lot in the years they spent apart as well; she was still a pirate but captain of her own crew now with a rather fearsome reputation that helped protect them on the seas. She had all the freedom she could want, but Sinbad had never truly left her mind even after all that time; there always seemed to be something around that reminded her of him. So when she heard of this new country founded by a king Sinbad? She just had to come and see for herself what all the rumors were talking about.

[daerein-blog]

/ @jamaixvu

      daewon remembers adrenaline like an old foe. forgotten, discarded, hidden. he remembers it like something he doesn’t want to remember, or think about remember. those were the days when fear was something that shook the body and he couldn’t stop it. 

      he remembers it kind of like being sickly, not like being a different person. he is a different person but when this adrenaline hits it’s pricking. trying to find the space where it can still coil into his body and make him fear. he shakes, from the cold more than anything, the aftermath of the chase making his breathing rugged, his body uneasy. it’s why yutae’s presence isn’t distinguished. it’s why yutae is still something cutting off, breaking into the fight he’s having to shield his body from this regression.

     this unnecessary regression. 

     he fights it as he fights instincts. listens to footsteps retreat and listens to the shuffle of yutae’s body off his. he breathes. he isn’t where he is by fighting. he doesn’t get old foes by not fighting. so he breathes again and pulls at his jacket. “you’re hurt.” if daewon’s bleeding anywhere it’ll go unnoticed. that’s what he’s like when he’s focuses and that’s what he’s like when he pushes. “i can move and that’s all that matters.” the jacket’s off, the tan is off and rolled into a coil. “if yours is just a flesh wound then we need to get going.” he holds the strip out, folded and tight enough to cover yutae’s arm. he’ll calculate later, but right now is all instinct, instinct, instinct.