piratewithvigor

[piratewithvigor]

Perhaps Golden Lovers in Greece?

Have a spectacular 37 hours 🥰

(Sorry I had to jump my queue of ask to get to this one because what does this MEAN??? What's happening in 37 hours??? Why 37??? It's so??? Ominous??? Am I in danger? Are you in my walls? Anyway here's some queers)

Golden Lovers, Ancient Greece AU (NSFW)

They heard the stories from the gods, the things mortals had done for each other. Lovers damning themselves forever for just one last look at their loved one, men killing gods, dragging the bodies of their enemies behind them on chariots, losing their minds when the gods intervened.

Kenny and Kota have no use for the gods or their children. They had learned far too young what it meant to be 'chosen' by the gods for some incredible purpose. To be deemed a champion by the creatures that moved them around like adorable playthings, their crooked parents.

"Kenny," Kota breathes, as the torchlights flicker across his tanned skin. Sometimes, if Kenny looks hard enough, he can see the places where Kota had been chipped away before the gods sought fit to give him skin and a heartbeat and blood. The sculptor who made a man so beautiful had placed Kota outside, where the world could share in him.

And the world shared him, and so when Kenny places his body over top of him, when he runs his hand up Kota's chiseled abs, he feels. Chips. Dips. Places in his skin where the elements had taken part of his waist, little cracks where children had thrown stones. Part of his right ear, the lobe that Kenny takes between his lips and sucks on, is so neatly chipped that it is as if it were sliced off by the artist himself.

"I'm here," Kenny promises, as he lays Kota back and feels the warmth of his skin. "I'm here," he promises, but still, Kota lifts his hand to slide over Kenny's lower stomach, down to golden curls of hair, wrapping around his shaft. He squeezes and pulls, drawing Kenny into him, helping him find him. As if Kenny would ever not find him. As if Kenny were Thesus stumbling through the maze, eyes wide, huffing and bloodthirsty.

Kenny could find Kota on the other side of the gods, but he lets Kota lead him anyway, into the channel of his body, until the two of them are pressed together.

The sculptor never took Kenny into consideration when creating Kota. He left no room in his arms for another man, did not imprint another chest, did not consider how Kota's hips would open for him or how Kota's back would arch or his hands could flex. He made Kota as a stationary thing - and yet, they fit.

Their architects had incomplete blueprints and they still fit, not because of the men who made them, not because of the gods.

They had no need for artists or gods.

Not when Kota cries out Kenny's name in reverence. Not when it's Kota's body that Kenny presses his lips to and whispers his wants, his desires. And when he moves, Kota moans, and he is more than that artist ever made him to be, and he is less than anything that the gods demanded of him.

Here, where neither creative nor deity could find them, Kota and Kenny are blissfully, perfectly, small. They are unwanted creatures in their hole in the ground, contributing nothing, demanded of nothing. They are not heroes. Let their names never be spoken in songs. Keep their lives out of the hands of scholars.

Kenny rolls his hips into Kota, and Kota's skin sweats against him, and in the hot darkness of their cave Kenny makes Kota his own, and the gods are none the wiser.

#literally curing me of my ills #AEW #Writing

[piratewithvigor]

[piratewithvigor]

Trans Max? 🥺👉👈 (if you want to)

(Trans Max holds a very special place in my heart)

He was cramping, and his head hurt, and he fucking hated pads but he hated tampons more, and he was so absolutely alone. Laying on his side on the bed, his hand resting on his swollen lower stomach, Max groans into the pillow below his head.

It was his own fault, getting used to having someone there to take care of him. Someone used to be there to lay behind him and rub his stomach and help him through the pain of. Well. All of it. But that person was gone now, and Max- Max didn't want to try and go down the road of thinking what Cole was really thinking during those times. He didn't want to know what Cole really thought of him.

Another cramp rolls through Max and it's almost, almost bad enough to keep him from hearing his hotel room door open up. Startled, his head jerks up and he blinks, and a thought flashes through his mind - Cole, breaking in, hearing he was back in town, hearing he was travelling again, but-

It's not Cole.

It's not one person.

It's three.

"...What the fuck are you morons doing in my hotel room?" Max snaps as Yuta, Hook, and Daniel Garcia filter in. Yuta, whose arms are full of Burger King and who is holding the room key between his teeth, just does his sickeningly adorable smile, and Hook meanders over to Max's bed and just. Sits on it.

"Heard you were back in town, buddy," Garcia says, dropping a bag and sitting on the other bed. "And would you look at that! You're still synched with us."

Max blinks in disbelief as the Goon Squad invades his hotel room, Yuta setting the warm Burger King bags down and stuffing the key from his teeth into his back pocket. He's all smiles still, passing out the food as he sticks his tongue out at Hook.

"Told you. Once a bunch of guys synch up, we don't synch out."

"That's the lamest thing I've ever heard," Hook answers, sitting back against the pillows beside Max. Max shifts himself and frowns, sitting back as Hook pulls a bottle of Ibuprofen out of his front hoodie pocket.

And Max had forgotten about that, completely. That at one point, he'd walked into the bathroom in AEW and tried to covertly undo a pad, taking the wrapping off inch by terrible inch, sweating because there were other guys in the room who would hear, and they would know, and they-

Heard. And they knew. And before Max knew it, Garcia's head was popping up from the top of the next stall and he was waving a pad at Max.

"Hey, twinsies!" he exclaimed to a frozen, shocked Max.

It was Garcia who tugged him along and introduced him to the others, the covert and not-so-covert transmen of the roster, who were such fucking dorks. There wasn't a single not-mid transman on their roster, just a bunch of dorky twinks, and Max only hung out with them to make them feel better about themselves.

"I've got a heating pad," Garcia says, tossing an electric pad on Max's stomach, "a bunch of chocolate, and like, every Shawn Michaels match that exists on DVD."

"God, give me a chocolate," Yuta groans, crawling up onto the bed next to Garcia. "You got the Burger King!"

"Cuz I was craving it, but now that I smelled it I have the ick," Yuta whines, which, fuck, feeding that guy on his period is a nightmare. "Hook can have it. He isn't even bleeding anymore."

Hook, without a word, snatches up the bag and sets it in his lap, all of this happening while Max is trying to understand what's going on. And then, at some point, when all the guys are laid back and watching Shawn Michaels flash his ass on the hotel TV screen, Max realizes exactly what's going on.

"Hey, twink," Max finally says, breaking his long silence. All three men look at him, and he'll laugh at that later, and he wags the plug of the heating pad at Yuta, "plug this in for me before I go nuclear over these fucking cramps."

#peace and love on planet earth #AEW #Writing

[piratewithvigor]

Don’t mind me,,,,, just recreating that Lupin the Third scene for No Reason

#is that a... #no it couldnt be..... #is that a jack in the box in jack's box?? #AEW

[piratewithvigor]

Oh happy day of japes and merriment~ ♫ ♪

#it most certainly is

[piratewithvigor]

*unzipping and slapping my cock down on the table* here's what's on offer today. how bout yours cowboy *the table shakes as he smacks the full heft of his cunt down in front of me* oh we're in business

[piratewithvigor]

There’s no such thing as work-life balance for neurodivergent & chronically ill people.

This is because everything in my life requires work:

maintaining friendships

keeping up with my hygiene

managing bills

making money

remembering my basic needs

sleeping regularly

outputting creatively

All requires some aspect of work for me.

And when everything in your life requires work, your balance goes out the window.

If you're neurodivergent and overwhelmed — I see you.

If you're chronically ill and overwhelmed — I see you.

You're not dysfunctional.

You're not incapable.

You're doing your best.

#thinking about this particularly hard this afternoon #everything is exhausting

[piratewithvigor]

On the one hand, super big fan of waking up to the Monkees theme song, it was genius on my behalf

On the other hand, I forgot the song opens with Davy whispering and when I'm already semi-conscious and just suddenly hear a British man whispering beside my head, it's startling to say the least

#Adventures In Alberta #Monkees

[piratewithvigor]

Maybe it’s just me but I noticed Stevie doesn’t have any tattoos

this made me have to go and take a look at a photo to see if this was true because i feel like most rock singers at least have a tattoo on their bicep or somewhere.. but i think u r right!!

i can’t see tattoos anywhere lol

#dear god... hes nude! #Tuff

[piratewithvigor]

you! the person reading this! please tell me one good thing that happened to you today

#i got to use a laser engraver #it was loud but it was so much fun

[piratewithvigor]

Hit me with the ancient grease

Yuta kneels amidst the children of the gods, petrified, his heart pounding in his chest. The linen of his chiton sticks to his skin in the worst way, and he can feel the marble floor digging into his knees. Before him, their benefactor stands, his robe brushing the floor in a vibrant purple, his head tilted slightly to the side. Yuta knows, because he can see him reflected in the polished floor, the floor Yuta himself had polished that morning while speaking in hushed tones with Garcia.

"You are the son of a soldier and a seamstress," Regal says quietly, his voice echoing off the walls of the room that always put Yuta slightly off. Now, with it filled with the god-children, his stomach is cramping, and the wine he'd had with his lunch is hot in his belly. "But I chose you for this house. Do you know why?"

Yuta swallows past a thick tongue. "T-to serve the house, sir," he says, his skin prickling. Somewhere, he feels Bryan watching him, his eyes shining and cruel, so unlike the softness of Achilles' gaze in his temple. Mox shifts - Mox is always shifting, unable to stop, moving this way and that. And Claudio.

Claudio is there, too.

Claudio is watching him, too.

"You would be," Regal says, then pauses, and in the reflection of the floor, Yuta can see his smile, "incorrect."

#i am THRIVING #AEW #BCC #Writing

[piratewithvigor]

semiaquatic secret agent

[piratewithvigor]

Golden Lovers in the coffeeshop? If that doesn't spark joy, then just Kenny in the Coffeshop?

(Coffeeshop AU let's gooo)

Kenny is alerted by the sound of horrible Japanese in a southern accent. He blinks himself from his previous thoughts and looks up from the sink to see Him.

His eyes are so big and blue that it's infuriating, and Kenny wants to grab him by the sides of his face and shake him like a Magic 8 Ball. And, okay, maybe Bryan has a point that Kenny's feelings aren't exactly normal, that he loves like an understimulated toddler, but his point stands that it would be nice to grab the cowboy by his hair and pull. It would fix him, he thinks, from the funk he'd been in.

Kota takes Adam's order with his ever-present encouraging beauty, and Kenny. Pictures them together.

He pictures them together a lot. Since the cowboy started coming in a few months ago, in fact, and Matt mentioned off-handedly that it was sweet how Adam had started learning basic Japanese to communicate with Kota when most of their regulars just rattled off their orders in English and hoped that Kota caught enough of their words to put it together (then there was Yuta, who would come in for the sole purpose of gossiping with Kota in Japanese about Claudio; one day, Kenny is going to tell Yuta that Claudio understands perfect Japanese).

Kenny is pulled from his thoughts once again when Kota turns around, beautiful almond eyes looking him over.

"Coconut latte," Kota says, "hot, with extra foam."

"Ah, yeah," Kenny replies, and he can feel the way Adam looks at him from over the counter. Not brave enough to meet his gaze, Kenny turns and starts pouring milk into his frothing cup.

#kenny loves so hard it breaks people and thats maybe my favorite thing about him #AEW #Writing

[piratewithvigor]

PPC PPC!!!!

Should you feel like it of course

(Gonna catch your little guy in a net)

The smoke mixes in Yuta's lungs and he breathes it in deep, smelling Eddie all over. In his pocket is his phone, which buzzes with another text from Daniel about how annoying his new professors are, and how much he misses going clubbing without his dads harping on him for getting his university work done. Yuta wishes he could care, he wishes he were a good friend to Daniel right now, he wishes he could focus on him.

"He ain't retiring from you, bun," Eddie says, fingers rubbing lightly up and down Yuta's arm, his other hand dropping to his lap, the cigarette smoking a thin stream of vapor up into the air. "He's just retiring from this." Eddie lifts that hand again to motion around them, and the smoke appears in a series of ribbons, twirling through the air.

He's referencing the Club, the work they do, clients. Which is fine. Yuta's not upset, he knows Bryan's growing older, he knows he wants to focus more on his reading, but. It's not any of that.

"...He seems to like the new guy a lot," Yuta says, picturing a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man with a boyish smile that was easy, a body that was toned, a sugary sweet hesitancy that reminded Yuta of Daniel. Yuta wonders if he's the only one who looks at the new guys and thinks of Daniel.

"Ah," Eddie says. "The brit."

#yuta is all bryan needs #they both wish he was all he wanted too #AEW #Writing #BCC #Eddie Kingston

[piratewithvigor]

hello, I am Extremely interested in the Ancient Greece AU 👀👀

The bath is large, and Yuta can imagine it was built for all the men who reside in the home. The other fighters who have thus far not given Yuta any attention, leaving him hungry, starved. Claudio, however, is feeding him.

Yuta is fed.

“Have you sprinkled the salts?” Claudio asks, and Yuta nods, keeping his eyes on the marble that abuses his knobby knees. He hears the sound of a robe shifting, then the fabric is dropped in front of him. He can feel the man’s heat from here, smell the sweat and dirt and blood from the amphitheater.

Claudio says nothing as he takes a step down, then another, until Yuta feels comfortable looking up. He watches as the man lowers himself into the pool, a muscular ass dipping under the steaming water, then half of a sculpted back. When the man sits, Yuta pulls himself together, letting his lurid thoughts out of his mind as he gathers Claudio’s warm robe and sets it aside.

“Stay with me,” Claudio commands, and Yuta hesitates, looking at the basket of dirty rags. He ought to take care of them now, or else…. Claudio leans back against the edge of the pool and he fixed Yuta with perfect, chocolate brown eyes, the visage of a god-son. “Please?”

And the very fact that it is the son of Aphrodite is saying please to him, him, that Yuta slides back to his knees beside Claudio’s shoulder.

“I will stay, then,” he agrees softly.

#i am being so fed right now #AEW #BCC #Writing

[piratewithvigor]

Coffee shop au

"Coffee does...different things for different people," Kenny explains, sitting beside Adam. It's quiet in the coffee shop, the rain pattering on the windows, making the LEDs streaky and painting the walls like wet paint.

Adam leans over on Kenny and it's maybe the most they've touched in days, the most Adam's let Kenny hold him up in days. The lattee sits on the table in front of them, untouched, cold.

"It's a comfort for some people, because it's part of a routine. Some people like it for the aesthetic of holding the coffee. ...You asked me why I'm a barista when I don't drink coffee. It's because it does something else for me."

Adam's hand slides over onto Kenny's forearm, tracing down a thick vein. He follows the map of his skin until he's at his hand, and they slowly lace their fingers together. Gently, Kenny squeezes Adam's hand.

"I get to make people happy," Kenny says to his silent companion. "I can make something that makes people happy."

"...You make me happy," Adam whispers, like an apology.

"Yeah...but I make you sad, too."

Kenny loosens his hold on Adam's hand.

"Coffee never makes anyone sad."

#let it be known im yipping and whooping and carrying on #AEW #Writing

[piratewithvigor]

It's Chuck Day so let's throw it back to this moment during the Chikara days. Also Chuck wearing Fire Ants merch <3

#they share clothes i just know it #Chuck Taylor #Orange Cassidy