#At least not without feeling weird. To me

[madam8]

Should have just made this its own thing and put in a link but fuck it I'm committed now. Hope whoever reads this enjoys. ❤

Also just wanna add I didn't make the header, I downloaded it from another story and don't remember which one. Please tell me in the comments if that's a problem and I'll remove it.

I'm just imagining something similar happening with the Obey Me boys.

Like, imagine.

You're minding your damn business playing the game, maybe say something affectionate towards your fave during the home surprise guest, and you're feeling tired. It is late AF, you always stayed up late talking to your favorite man, but somehow you feel much heavier than usual. So you say your "goodnight" and "I love you" to him (was that a grin you just saw? Was he blushing?) and you shut off the game and go to bed to start dreaming (weird though, you swear you heard his voice just before passing out).

Low and behold, your in your room when you wake. Well, not YOUR room back at home. But you find you're on your room in The House Of Lamentation. Which isn't even real.

HOW THE FUCK?!

You leave that room to wander around and find out what the flying fuck is going on, when you hear one of the brothers call to everyone else that you were awake.

Just like that, they all (save for a few specifics) crowded around you asking how were you feeling? Were you alright? Were you dizzy? Were you nauseous? Were you hungry?

When suddenly Lucifer speaks up telling them all to calm down and not overwhelm you (arms crossed cause of course lol)

They all reluctantly do as told, prioritizing your comfort over anything else at the moment.

You find out that someone seems to have brought you here but no one is fessing up or trying to help you leave. Why would they? They all love you and are fully aware that you adore them as well.

Skip ahead, you've gotten use to living with them and aren't AS against it as you should be. If anything, you prefer your life with them.

Going down the the kitchen for a drink, you overhear your favorite man, the man you love more than ever now after actually getting to spend time with him (I'm imagining Lucifer), telling some of the others to not get too close or cocky cause you. Are. HIS. and his alone. They can humor you, should you decide you wanna spend time with them, but your heart is off limits.

You're not only questioning this in your mind as you listen but you're also a little annoyed with him. Like, you LOVE love him but do you really not get a say?

Well, two can play at this game.

You decided you'll still give him attention and affection as always (it'd be suspicious and down right criminal if you don't), BUT now you're gonna get a little more close and personal to the others too. Specially the ones he seems to see as threats to "your relationship" with him. Just to fuck with him a bit and hopefully teach him not to make such statements without your thoughts on the matter (not that you'd be complaining)

And with that, you quietly stroll back up to your room like you never heard a thing to start planning your strategy to screw with your man who is claiming you before even confessing.

Oh yes, you were were gonna have quite a lot of fun with this. For awhile at least. 😉

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[mossangelll]

So hear me out….pregnant reader with Sevika’s kid. Sevika doting on reader. Bring home a weird craving reader has been having and talking to the baby telling them how excited she is to finally meet them.

I need fluff, I need pregnancy, I need it to be hers naturally.

Thank yooooooooou!

this is so cute i loved writing it! i just know sevika would be a great parent ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

sevika x pregnant reader headcanons

cw: pregnancy, slight innuendos, mentions of violence, veryyyy slight angst at the start

sevika never saw herself being a parent; not because she doesn’t like kids, it’s the complete opposite - she adores them

she felt it was selfish to want to bring a child into a fucked up world like zaun, full of hardship and uncertain futures

but then one night you tearfully turn to sevika in bed and her mind immediately goes into overdrive, are you hurt? is someone threatening you?

“sevika…i’m pregnant.”

you’re both sent into a still silence, unable to see each other but somehow feeling each other’s shock that much more

you’re worried that she’s upset or even mad at you, you know how she feels about having kids, until she’s gripping onto you with all her might, body shuddering from the force of her tears

sevika spoons you to sleep but she can’t fall asleep since her mind is racing about what this means for the future

she is overjoyed to say the least, albeit worried

from that moment on she dotes on you even more than she ever did, saying she needs to “look after my two favourite people.”

she rarely enjoyed pda but now you’re pregnant with her child, she can’t keep her hands off you - she needs to let everyone know that she’s completely smitten with you and the baby

sevika is constantly rubbing her hands on your baby bump wherever you go - just the sight of you and the baby calms her down

however she’ll only talk to the baby when you’re at home all safe and sound because this is when she admits her innermost fears

you stroke her soft hair as she whispers to the bump about how she’s scared she won’t be able to protect you both; after all, sevika works for the biggest crime lord in zaun and a child only provides more ammunition for enemies to utilise

sevika is also concerned about not being a good enough parent to the child but when you look at her building a crib from scratch, concentration furrowing her dark brows, with buckets of paint surrounding her from all the swatches you requested, you know that her worries couldn’t be further from the truth

every morning and every night, without fail, she kisses your forehead and baby bump as she rambles to you both about how excited she is for the completion of your little family

she dotes on you so much!

if you have a weird craving like pickle juice with sparkling water she’s forcing chuck to drop all his orders and make yours stat

if you’re craving some obscure dish that really shouldn’t exist sevika isn’t even going to question it

she’s in the kitchen whipping it up for you as you’re sat on the counter, humming as she prepares your meal

she does that thing where she puts the plate just in your reach but yanks it back again, laughing at how petulant you get

“what, you’re not gonna kiss the chef first?”

she gives it to you eventually, she could never make you wait for too long, and watches on with a goofy little smile and your lipstick marks all over her face as you contentedly eat the downright atrocious meal she made with love

sevika is always with you; call her overprotective or clingy she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t want to risk anybody hurting you or the baby

you basically get scary dog privileges everywhere you go

if your pregnancy hormones say the annoying store clerk that spoke to you in a condescending tone needs to die then sevika is on it right away

ok not really, she talks you down from your moments of bloodlust but she will deal with anyone that is rude to you

“you think i’m gonna let you get away with being an asshole to my dove, huh?”

lowkey shocked (and equal parts turned on) at how cranky your raging hormones make you 😭

sevika is incredibly attracted to you and your changing body even though you get insecure that she won’t like you anymore because of it

she takes her precious time every day just kissing the new stretch marks that appear and massaging your swollen ankles

you spend your date nights talking about baby names and you two even draw what you think the baby will look like

her drawing mainly consists of your features

your drawing mainly consists of her features

you two are so down bad for each other it’s sickening

silco has to force sevika to take more time off; she’s loyal and deserves to have more downtime with you as you prepare for your baby

he understands what it’s like to have a kid, how stressful it can be so he wants his dearest friend to enjoy the moment as much as possible

speaking of silco, he helps sevika host a surprise baby shower at the last drop and an insane amount of people turn up

you cry when you realise how loved and respected you are in the community

everyone is having the time of their lives playing games like blind diaper changing, who knows mum/dad the best, guess the baby, etc.

no gender reveal though she’s traditional in that regard and wants to wait until the baby’s born to find out

jinx is also very excited about the new arrival in the family

yes, she considers you and sevika to be part of her family and it’s very cute

she gets to be an auntie!

jinx spends all her free time making all sorts of toys out of softer materials because she’s considerate (also sevika warned her not to use scrap metal, or implement sharp edges, or even add teeny tiny smoke bombs - jinx scrapped all of her designs and had to start from scratch), for your baby with her signature graffiti of course

her and sevika probably work together to make some of the furniture for the baby’s room

sevika is very proud when people ask to feel bump

“yeah, this is our kid.” smug grin plastered onto her face and a strong arm wrapped around your midsection

you can’t help but roll your eyes when she does this because at this point who doesn’t know it’s your kid - she spends all day talking about it 😭

all in all sevika is honestly the best mother and wife you could ask for <3

masterlist

[teddybeartoji]

bakugou and vampire!reader................ he's so unsure about everything, he doesn't really know what to do with himself or you or the fact that you're a vampire but when you kneel down in front of him and bat your eyelashes while asking to taste his blood, he really has no other option that to just let you do it. 

his heart is about to combust, he's sweating and he's squirming in his seat – with you sat between his thighs, gently cradling his hand and kissing his knuckles, it's impossible for him to calm himself. he feels a bit lightheaded from the way you're looking at him; your pupils are dilated, your eyes low, as you force down your own desire and focus on guiding him through his first time instead. 

he can't even bring himself to say anything when you ask him whether you can keep on going – he gives you a nod and you watch his adam's apple bob. you know him well enough to take this a sign to continue; he won't admit that he's nervous, no fucking way, but you do think it's sweet that he's still willing to let you do this. 

when your lips finally ghost over his wrist, he bites down a sound. 

he leans back on his free hand and throws his head back and you're forced to stifle a chuckle – he's awfully cute like this. a blush creeps up from under his shirt collar and without having to see him properly, you already know his face is doing any better either. his whole body burns, it feels as if he's on fire, but he refuses to back down. 

“how are we doing, suki, hm?”

something soars inside him; it spreads from his lower stomach – up and down, to his chest and to his thighs, to his arms and to his legs, to his fingers and to his toes. and you're really not even doing anything just yet. 

“g– good.”

his raspy voice breaks despite him trying to hold it together with all of his might. your hot breath warms his skin and he digs his fingers into the bedsheets below him – he curses his body for being so damn sensitive and he curses himself for being so weak for you. 

“i need you to look at me when i do it.”

his eyes pop open but he doesn't turn to look at you. he doesn't dare. 

“what for?”

“because i don't want to push you too far, baby. i need you to keep your eyes on me, so i can make sure of that.”

his chest heaves. 

“please?”

his body moves completely on its own when he cranes his neck to finally meet your starved gaze again. his answer is just a grumble and his reward is you pressing one last kiss to his wrist – you stay there with your mouth still against him and your eyes fixated on his dark ones for a moment before parting your lips and giving him a glimpse of your sharp teeth. 

bakugou sucks in a breath. 

you sink your fangs into his skin and he clenches his jaw. his whole body tenses up and you placing your free hand on his thigh does nothing to help him relax; his pupils grow bigger at the sight of you latched onto him, at the feeling of your tongue against him. the sensation of you draining his blood is weird to say the least but there isn’t a single part of him that wants to pull away. 

he’s mesmerized. 

when you trail your hand up over his body until you finally reach the middle of his chest, you give him a few pats, silently telling him to breathe again. he can see the mischievous glint in your eyes, he knows you’d tease him for it if you weren’t busy drinking his blood, and the flush on his cheeks deepens.

but it doesn’t take long before his mind starts growing hazy and you know you’ll have to stop a bit earlier than you usually do, but it’s not like you really mind. you watch how his blinking slows and feel his breathing finally begins to even out – pulling away from his wrist, his eyes widen a bit more as he watches you lick your lips clean and stand from your place between his thighs, only to straddle his hips instead. 

ignoring how tired his body suddenly feels, he snakes his arms around your middle anyway and lets you push him down onto his back.

you nip at his jaw and press yourself flush against him. “that wasn’t too bad, was it, baby?” 

the fact you’re so fucking close now makes bakugou’s head flood with filthier images than he’d like to admit but he blames it all on the delirium caused by the blood loss. he swallows down a groan as he kneads the plush flesh of your waist and shakes his head.

he thinks your hum sounds like a purr. 

and you think he looks extra cute like this. 

slowly, you tilt your head to the other side of his face and lower yourself down, so you can press your lips against his pulse point. “will you let me do it here next time, suki?”

goosebumps raise on his skin despite how warm he feels and his hips buck up into yours in an instant. 

“fuck…” 

“say yes.” 

bakugou doesn’t like to be told what to do. he doesn’t like when people order him around and he doesn’t like when people command him. 

“yes.”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Consider It Done

Prompt Day 28: Pining | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Brief Mention of Sex Acts, Steve Wanting His Nuggets, Bullshit | Tags: Future Fic, 1990s, Roommates, Friends With Benefits, Mutual Pining, Background Lumax, Platonic Stobin

"Dingus, are you listening?" 

Steve jerks his head towards Robin. He wasn't listening, he's not even sure what they were talking about. 

"Sorry, what?" Steve asks, and she's just looking at him, all-knowingly. So, her usual face.

"I said, take a picture it'll last longer," she says in his direction, and Steve jerks his head back to where he was looking. 

Eddie, holding the baby, Max and Lucas happy to have the break that Eddie's so good at providing. He was great at holding her when she was brand new, and oh so little, but now? At nearly a year, Eddie's really hitting his stride. Entertaining her, making her giggle with delight, so happy to be in his lap.

It's affected Steve more than he could have imagined. Steve loves that his nuggets are having nuggets. It doesn't seem possible, but they've grown up so much. They all have. 

And Eddie looks good, looks right, with that baby in his arms. It has just unleashed an unholy level of longing in Steve that he didn't know was even possible. 

Thing is, Steve knows that whatever they are isn't gonna be that, and he's accepted it. He really has. It's been years. They're fuck buddies. Roommates. Friends. Definitely not boyfriends, spouses or ever going to be parents together. That's not in the cards. Eddie was upfront when they fell into this thing that he wasn't ever gonna be any of those things.

Down for a good time, but not a long time.

And Steve understood. At least he thought he did, but now he's looking at Eddie holding a baby, the Eddie that he loves and shouldn't, and his heart yearns for more. 

It's been years, half-assedly together, and Steve could only guard his heart for so long.

"You're pining pretty loud," Robin hisses, and Steve tears his eyes away, focusing on her instead.

In the car on the ride home, Steve's quiet. Eddie's talking, jabbering away, and Steve loves him. Loves him more than he's ever loved anyone that isn't Robin, and as usual, he has no outlet for it. Nobody wants his love. He's a good fuck, a good friend, a good babysitter. But he's not good forever material. 

"You're awfully quiet," Eddie finally says, in between monologues.

"The baby's even cuter than the last time we saw her," Steve says. 

"Totally," Eddie agrees, "she's getting so fun."

"I want her. Well, not her. That's weird. One. I want one."

"Yeah, so you've said, Harrington. You wanted six last I knew," Eddie teases.

Six is never happening. Six was the dream of an overly optimistic nineteen-year-old. At twenty-nine, he just wants one. He wants to love others, to be loved back, wholly. Openly, freely, without feeling like he's too much.

"One would be good," Steve says.

"Well, I'm sure there's some woman out there itching to have a baby with you. You do have the good hair."

Steve laughs, because he's supposed to, but he doesn't want a baby with some random woman he doesn't know. He wants a baby with Eddie. He wants a life with Eddie, and Eddie isn't on board with that.

And Steve hates it. Hates that they are so far from the same page it isn't even funny. 

"I want a baby with you," Steve says, and then squeezes the steering wheel. Fuck. 

Eddie laughs, "Well, we don't exactly have the parts for that. But we can still practice until you find somebody better equipped."

Steve's defeated, done. "There is nobody better. I want you. You don't want me, but I want you. And yeah, it's bullshit, I know."

"Steve…" Eddie trails off.

"Just forget it."

Eddie's quiet for the rest of the ride, and Steve wonders if he's trying to decide which of them will have to move out of the apartment, just like Steve is doing. He could stay with Robin for a while, her girlfriend would welcome him on a short-term basis, he's sure.

Steve's facedown on his bed, when the door swings open. 

"I can't forget it," Eddie announces loudly. 

"Can't forget what?" Steve asks, voice muffled by his pillow. 

"That you want me," Eddie says, and if Steve wasn't already facedown on the bed, he'd want to hide from the shame of it all.

"Sorry," Steve mumbles, but he's only sorry that he's made it weird. 

"Don't be sorry, be honest," Eddie says, and Steve doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about. Steve's been honest, that's why they're in the uncomfortable situation in the first place.

He feels Eddie's knee hit the bed, and it shakes as Eddie crawls across the mattress, then he's on Steve's back. Chest to his back, his arms snaking all along Steve's exposed skin, to cover Steve's arms all the way to his hands.

Eddie's chin is slotted against his neck, touching him in all the places he can reach, and Steve hates – and loves – how much this grounds him. 

"You're in love with me?" Eddie asks. "You don't just love me as your eccentric roommate that enthusiastically sucks your cock?"

Steve laughs, the weight of Eddie pinning him to the bed.

"Well, I love that, too."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Eddie asks.

"You told me what this wasn't," Steve says.

Eddie lets out an indigent sound, "That was a dirty lie to protect myself, Harrington! You're supposed to know me better than that!"

He squeezes the tops of Steve's hands with his own, "I've loved you the whole time, you dickhead."

Steve wants to believe it, wants to throw everything he has into it.

He will. There's no other option.

"Well, I've loved you the whole time, too, you dickhead," Steve mimics.

Eddie laughs in his ear, pressing his lips to the side of Steve's face, "We can have a baby. We can get married. Anything you want, trust me, I want it more."

And Steve smiles into the pillow, "Okay. Let's do that."

"Consider it done, Harrington."

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

Notes: Special thanks to @griefabyss69 for throwing out this pining plot idea (Steve pining for a family after seeing Eddie with Lumax's baby) after I was complaining yesterday that my first fic for this prompt outgrew the 1000 word limit, and now I needed to start over last minute. That doesn't sound like me at all, does it? 🤣 (It'll work out okay, since it will also works for one of my bingo prompts, so I'll continue it for that!)

[arilevenatz]

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, abuse (not done by the boys) minor character death, jongho is a shy baby, lmk if I missed any!!

AN: I feel like screaming. This has been in my drafts for more than a year when the 'Everything' MV came out. The MV broke me and I was a crying mess. If y'all couldn't tell, my bias is jongho and I have seen that there are not that many good jongho fics in any platform. So I have taken the initiative. (Even tho idk if it's good or not) Anyway if y'all wanna be tagged just reply with your @ . AND please reblog and like it helps me a lot. I kinda fucked up the ending so y'all are free to imagine whatever the fuck y'all want

Nassau, an island which was claimed by the crew of Halazia. The ship was giant and very beautiful as well.

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

The pirates of the Halazia are the most feared of them all. They are known for not having any mercy towards any ship they come across.

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

But Nassau is an island which is owned by them, so it is common for the people living near the harbor to see them come and go.

I, however lived further in the town, so I have never really seen them. Not that I want to as well. I'm scared they might kill me.

Though I doubt that will happen cause they have never really killed any innocent here in Nassau. Not that I've heard that is.

Waking was hard. Going to greet the family was harder. Answering their dumb questions was the hardest.

They say the youngest kid is always the most loved of them all. Not in our case.

We are big on family. And the worst part? We all live in the same plot, but in different houses. Me, being the youngest child in the house, I'm a personal punching bag.

Stuffs like "your brothers are doing so good, you need to follow them aswell" and "your brothers and sister have taken majors in science, you will too I hope" were normal to me.

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

If you wanna live in this house without getting called out every time, you have to fake a smile. Please everyone, child. Because of your father, you have to please everyone.

That was then, but now she has changed. She was forced to do so by these monsters in the name of people. I kinda miss her…

I heard my name being called. Looking at the source I saw my mom.

"I know you just woke up but, can you go to the port market and get us some things?"

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

I looked at the source, great, my other aunt. Blinded by the pride of marrying a rich doctor, she thinks she is the head of the family, although she is the youngest sibling of my dad.

"yes yes, she will go, won't you kid?" her eyes pleaded to me, not wanting her child to be scolded in the morning.

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

Being the youngest, I was always called "kid" or "child". It's weird I know, but i don't even care anymore.

The market's a bit far. I have to cross a little outskirt of a jungle. Though I don't have to cross the jungle, it's still a bit scary. But it's dawn, so it's alright right now.

After the jungle, a little walk by some alleyways and then it's the market!

The market was one of my favorite places to be in. Just look at it! It's so lively and colourful. It's so nice that it can make me forget about home for some time.

Ok let's check the list of items. Chili powder, parsley, biscuits and rum.

Hah! That stupid uncle of mine! How can he make a young girl like me buy alcohol early in the morning?!

I eventually got all the supplies and also got the rum. The shopkeeper was my dad's and uncles's friend so he gave me the rum I wanted, but I doubt he would've if he didn't know me. I mean come on, who gives alcohol to a young girl?!

"That will be ten bronze kid"

I handed him the money when suddenly I heard a high pitched laugh

"jongho, at least try to bargain once in your life! Do you or do you not want to save money??"

Looking in the direction, I saw two men. One has black hair, the other one has black and white hair.

What a strange hair colour...aren't his parents dissapointed?

Both of them are dressed in big tunics and black leather pants. The tunics loosely tucked in their pants.

"shopkeeper-nim, can we get this rum?"

The oreo guy handed the shopkeeper a note, seemingly a list.

"No mates, the last one was taken by this lady here"

He pointed at me. Damn dawg why you gotta throw me under the bus?

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

The booming voice of the first mate who is also the quarter master, can be heard from below the deck. He had just spotted an island. Their island,

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

"captain, we need to scavenge", the quartermaster and first mate of Halazia, Seonghwa stated to their captain, the one and only, Hongjoong.

"I'm aware. Is the scavenger team ready?"

"I have already concerned Wooyoung, him and his team are ready to go"

"Good"

"Captain!"

The captain and quartermaster flinched by the voice of the surgeon.

"San! You unruly swine! What if the the captain got scared and let go of the helm?!", the quartermaster scolded the younger guy.

"Seonghwa do you mean that I get scared by small things?"

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

All three males in the room flinch by the sudden intruder.

"Yunho, do you want me to order Yeosang to cut of your hair in your sleep?"

"Captain it was a joke!!"

"Anyways, captain, I came here to inform you that Mingi needs materials to fix the ship, however, he has work to do, so someone has to go on land with Wooyoung to get the supplies", San, the surgeon states.

The captain has now successfully ported the ship and now can let go of the helm. He turned to his crew and told them to follow him. And he went towards the maindeck.

"Send Jongho. He does not have any work for the time being"

"ok!"

San sprinted away almost in a comical way while muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a "smooth operator~"

The battlemaster was in the arms locker. The giant locker was home to weapons for the battlemaster as well as guns for the master gunner, Yunho.

The battlemaster, Jongho, was busy cleaning his swords. Call him a clean freak but he needs to clean all his swords and cutlasses. Not because he is a clean freak, it's cuz a certain someone will scold him if he does not.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

The first mate gets inside the locker and sits beside the younger male.

"I am not, but I know a certain someone is though"

"You swine"

The crew of the Halazia is known as the scariest crew outside, but inside the ship, they all are one braincell sharing idiots.

"Anyways, captain ordered you to do to port and get some stuff with wooyoung-ie" The younger boy looked at the first mate with his boba eyes. "what stuff?"

"mingi needs some stuff to repair the broken and probably for his new invention and shit"

"Ok then”

“meat, coriander, honey, alcohol and maybe some broccoli for the soups"

"Wooyoung, why do you need alcohol? Are you gonna drink again?"

The cook of Halazia, wooyoung and the young battlemaster, jongho are set out for an adventure, an adventure to find the specific kind of alcohol for the surgeon of the ship, San.

"What? No! I am getting it because Sanie asked me to!

This morning, San had barged in the kitchen and asked wooyoung to get a special kind of rum, which helps to clean cuts.

Yeah the young boys have no idea how to find it…

"aren't you too young to drink?" jongho asked the girl they just came across in the shop.

The girl didn't say anything and just stayed silent.

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

Both the males looked at the young girl. She has her hand out and in her hand resides the rum bottle.

"You can have it"

"No no we ca-" jongho was cut of by wooyoung. "sure we'll take it! How much was it again?"

"ten bronze"

Wooyoung handed the girl ten bronze and was about to take off, but jongho held him back feeling guilty. I mean come on, the girl probably had her own hardships buying it, and then she got harassed by his hyung.

The younger guy went and handed 5 more bronze. The girl merely looked at his hand confused.

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

Jongho waited a few seconds and then took the girl's hand and placed the coins there.

"thank you and...Sorry"

The girl looked at the coins and then looked at him. And then she said "I don't need these extra coins, but in return, you both have to go and buy the alcohol for me”

They do it for the girl. The two men are now inside another store, away from the previous. This store is the only other store which sells alcohol here in the port market. But the owner of this shop doesn't know your dad or uncle, so he will not give alcohol to her as she's a girl. So she cleverly asked the two men to go inside and buy it for her.

Wooyoung hands you the additional bottle of rum with a dramatic flourish, a smirk on his face. "Here you go, little one. Consider this our way of helping you out." He smiles at me, while Jongho looks on, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

You look at him giving you two bottles when you asked for one. “I only needed one tho.....”

"We added one more. Consider it a gift from us. Just... don't tell anyone we did this, alright? We'd be in real trouble if anyone knew” Wooyoung said as he put the bottles in your bag properly. You nod at him slightly.

Wooyoung smiles slightly at your nod "Smart girl. And hey... what's your name? I'm wooyoung, that's jongho. Seems like Nassau's been tough on you, hasn't it? If you ever need anything else-"

jongho slightly nudges him to stop and get back to work. He gently pushes Wooyoung aside before he can offer any more unsolicited kindness to the girl. The last thing they need right now is rumors spreading about us befriending locals.

Jongho shoots Wooyoung a warning look before turning his attention back to you "Remember what we said - keep quiet about this. And stay out of trouble, yeah? Nassau's not safe for little ones like you-" he catches himself realizing how condescending that sounded "-Like-”

“Little ones?” You were offended. You hated when someone called you little. It triggered you so much. You family calling you ‘kid’, ‘child’ was enough, you don't need these two weirdos calling you little.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "You know what I mean. Young. Innocent. Uninvolved in pirate life. Just... be careful, alright? We don't want anything happening to anyone”

You wanted to ask why they were so interested in pirate life but they were already turning back.

As Wooyoung and him walk away, jongho can't shake the feeling that he has made things awkward between them and the girl. He glances back over his shoulder, noticing her standing there, holding the extra bottle of rum like a precious treasure. "Woo, did you see that?”

Wooyoung follows his gaze, a thoughtful expression on his face "Aye, I did. She's a tough one, ain't she? For a little thing, she's got guts." He pauses, then adds in a lower tone

"And she's got a way of getting under your skin, too. Mark my words, Jongho - that girl's going to cause us trouble one day." He chuckles to himself, but there's a hint of seriousness beneath his words.

"Let's just hope it's the good kind of trouble.”

Back in the ship, the surgeon, San runs up to them, asking them what took them so long. Woo replied "we had to fight a little girl for the last bottle of rum”. San raises a concerned eyebrow.

“In what world do ‘little girl' and ‘rum’ co-operate in one sentence? That sounds highly inappropriate”

Jongho sighs and shakes his head disapprovingly at Wooyoung's exaggeration. "Don't go spreading tales now. We weren't fighting anyone." He glances at San with weary eyes. "Just... ran into a stubborn lady on an errand.”

San raises an eyebrow skeptically, but his lips twitch in amusement. "'Stubborn lady,' huh? Sounds like someone's been distracted by pretty eyes and a cute face." He teasingly pokes Jongho in the ribs.

Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hands dramatically and replied "no wonder he was not cold but gentle towards the girl. I knew you had it in you!”

Jongho rolls his eyes, trying to maintain his composure despite San's teasing. "Shut it, San. It's not like that. We just didn't want any trouble, that's all." He shoots Wooyoung a warning look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

But it was true, he felt that those eyes held sadness. He has seen war, he has been in dilemmas and has fought with his inner urges. He knows what loneliness looks like. and he saw that in those girl's dull eyes. He stands on the deck watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues, but he can't help but replay the encounter with the girl in his mind. The ache in her eyes, the defiance in her stance - it echoes the battles he's fought within himself.

He remembers the way the girl stood her ground, refusing to back down even when faced with two grown pirates.

As the captain, Hongjoong managed more than just his crew; he also oversaw a network of loan sharks. These were the people he trusted with his money, providing them the means to distribute loans in exchange for a share of the profits. Now, it was time to settle. A meeting with the loan sharks of Nassau was pending, and Hongjoong intended to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Rather than meeting on neutral ground, Hongjoong and Seonghwa decided to summon the loan sharks to their ship. It was a calculated move, one that ensured the meeting would take place on their terms and under their control. (Hot men)

The captain’s quarters were cold and dark, the flickering lantern casting shadows across Hongjoong’s features. Seonghwa stood by the door, arms crossed and expression hard, his presence as commanding as the captain’s. The loan sharks shifted uneasily before them, knowing this was not a meeting to be taken lightly.

The lead shark hesitated before speaking, his voice shaking slightly. “Captain, there’s been… a complication.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his eyes cold “A complication?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Explain.”

“A man we loaned money to—he fled,” the shark stammered. “Disappeared without paying a single coin. He left behind his wife and daughter in Nassau.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “And you let him run?”

“We didn’t know he would,” the shark blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “He seemed reliable, Captain. A merchant with steady work. But one day, he was gone, just like that.”

“And the family?” Seonghwa cut in, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

“They’re still in Nassau,” the shark admitted. “The wife claims she doesn’t know where he went, and they’ve got nothing left. No way to repay the debt.”

Hongjoong’s gaze darkened. “You mean to tell me you came here with excuses, no money, and no solutions?”

The shark shrank back, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Captain, we—we thought we could pressure the wife. Maybe—” He hesitated, but Hongjoong’s glare pushed him to continue. “Maybe take their belongings or… use them to draw him out.”

The room fell silent. Seonghwa stepped forward, his voice like steel. “Use them?” he echoed, his lips curling into a cold smirk knowing what his captain will suggest next, “You’re suggesting we drag a woman and her child into this mess because you couldn’t do your job?”

The shark flinched, his voice barely a whisper. “It was just an idea.”

Hongjoong stood, the sudden movement making the shark jump. He leaned across the table, his voice venomous. “Ideas like that will get you killed. You don’t lay a hand on them unless I give the order. Do you understand me?”

The shark nodded frantically, his face pale. “Y-Yes, Captain.”

“But you will go back,” Hongjoong continued, his tone playful but colder now. “You will visit the wife, and you will remind her that the debt doesn’t disappear just because her husband ran. Make sure she understands this is her last chance to cooperate. If she knows where he is, she had better start talking.”

“And if she doesn’t?” the shark asked hesitantly.

Seonghwa’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained icy. “Then you make it clear what happens when people cross Captain Hongjoong. Let her know the weight of the debt will fall heavier if her husband doesn’t show his face soon.”

Hongjoong straightened, his eyes burning into the shark’s. “You don’t come back empty-handed again. Bring me the man, or bring me something of equal value. Do I make myself clear?”

The sharks nodded in unison, fear etched into their faces.

“Good,” Hongjoong said curtly. “Now get out of my sight.”

As the door slammed shut behind them, Seonghwa glanced at the captain. “You think the wife knows something?"

“If she does, fear will make her speak,” Hongjoong replied coldly. “And if she doesn’t, it’ll push the coward into the open. Either way, we get what we’re owed.”

He thinks for a second and then says “ you know what, I don't trust these parasites. Send a mule after them, give me every detail of what they do from now on”

The shark’s anger simmered as he stormed through the winding streets of Nassau. Hongjoong’s threats still echoed in his ears, and his humiliation burned deep. To him, the blame lay squarely with the woman and her child.

“They’ve made fools of us,” growled the shark, his fists clenched. “It’s her fault the captain’s breathing down our necks. If we can’t touch them, we’ll make sure she understands what it means to cross us.”

When he reached the small house with two of his acquaintances, they found it quiet and dimly lit. The lead shark pounded on the door with enough force to make the frame rattle. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing the wife. Her face paled when she saw the sharks, but she held her ground.

“What do you want now?” she asked, her voice strong but trembling.

The lead shark sneered, pushing the door open wider. “Your lies have caused us enough trouble. We’re done playing games.”

She took a step back, clutching the edge of the door. “I’ve told you everything I know. My husband is gone. I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

Another shark, a burly man with a cruel glint in his eye, stepped forward. “Your daughter—where is she?”

“She’s not here,” the wife said quickly, fear flashing across her face. “She’s out.”

The lead shark smirked, leaning closer. “Good. That makes this easier.”

Before the wife could react, the sharks forced their way inside. She stumbled back, panic flooding her as they loomed over her.

“You’re coming with us,” the lead shark said coldly.

“You can’t do this,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “We’re not hurting you,” the burly shark replied with a twisted grin. “We’re just taking you somewhere else to have a little… conversation.”

Despite her protests, they grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the house, their grip firm but not brutal. She screamed and struggled, but no one was there as they hauled her through the streets and into the shadows of Nassau.

____

You push open the door to your house, expecting the usual comfort of your mother's voice or the warmth of a home filled with the scent of a meal being prepared. But instead, there was silence.

“Mom?” you call out, your voice echoing slightly. You set down the basket of bread and vegetables, but there’s no answer. The quiet stretches on, oppressive, like something’s wrong.

You move through the house, checking the rooms one by one, but it’s empty. There’s no sign of her. Panic starts to creep into your chest, tightening with each passing moment.

As you were looking, you felt someone cover your mouth in a vise-like grip as you trie to claw at him. His thick mustache curls upwards in a cruel sneer. "And what do we have here? The little birdie come back to her nest?”

You try hard to free yourself.

“You think you can run from us?” he sneered, shoving you forward with enough force to stumble you. “You and your mother have been causing enough trouble, little girl. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you both learn your place soon enough.”

You kick his knees and manage to break free. Just as you reach for the door handle, a large hand cracks across your face, sending you stumbling down. Pain explodes across your cheek and you fall to the floor, dazed and crying. The man looms over you, his fist raised for another blow. "You little brat!”

"Stop!" The lead shark's voice barks out sharply, staying in the second man's hand mid-air. Through your terrified tears, you see him approaching you, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor.

“We don’t need more bruises on this pretty little face yet,” he says, his voice almost… amused. His hand lifts, but instead of striking, he just touches the side of your face, his fingers cold and rough against your skin.

You wince, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. “Listen closely, little bird,” he continues, his voice dark and low. “We need you to understand something. Your father’s debt? It’s a problem. And we’re not leaving here until we get our money back.”

Your stomach churns at the mention of your father. You try to keep your voice steady, but it cracks. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Yeah, we know,” he replies with a dry laugh, his grip loosening just a little. “Your father’s a coward. He runs and leaves you two behind to clean up his mess.” He leans down, his face just inches from yours. “But that doesn’t matter. Captain Hongjoong’s been clear. We take what’s ours. And you?” His smirk widens. “You’re gonna help us make that happen.”

His words make your blood run cold. Hongjoong. You’d heard of him—his name was spoken with fear and respect, but never this way. They’re using your family as leverage, a pawn in their game, all because of your father’s debt.

“They need you to make sure your father gets the message,” the lead shark continues, standing back up, pacing slowly around you like a predator. “We can’t hurt you… yet. But we’re going to make sure you’re a reminder. Captain Hongjoong is waiting for results. And if that means bringing you along to make your father see reason, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Hongjoong sat in his quarters, staring at the report he had just received from the mule. His eyes narrowed as the words settled in. The sharks had gone against his direct orders, overstepping their boundaries, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The anger bubbled inside him, a sharp, cold rage that left no room for hesitation.

He stood up, the weight of his frustration pressing on him. He couldn’t allow anyone to defy him, especially not when it came to matters as serious as this. The sharks had been sent to handle the situation, to get back the money they were owed—but they’d taken it too far. Taking the girl and her mother? That wasn’t part of the deal.

Seonghwa, who had been standing nearby, watching his captain closely, didn’t need to ask what was wrong. He’d seen this side of Hongjoong before—when his calm, controlled demeanor slipped, and the storm beneath came to the surface.

“Prepare Jongho and Yunho,” Hongjoong said, his voice low but filled with authority. “I want them to investigate. I want to know exactly what those sharks did, and I want them to fix this. I’ll have no one undermining my orders.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to leave, but Hongjoong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Make sure it’s handled quietly,” Hongjoong added, his gaze steely. “We don’t need any more attention than we already have. And if they’ve done something unforgivable… make sure they know who’s in charge.”

Jongho, the Battle Master, was known for his strength and discipline. He’d follow orders without hesitation, but it was his ability to keep a level head in intense situations that Hongjoong trusted most. Yunho, the Master Gunner, had a sharp eye for details and a quick wit. Together with a few loyal crew members, they’d get to the bottom of this—and if the sharks had crossed a line, they’d deal with it swiftly.

Jongho and Yunho stood by the edge of the ship, the salty breeze tugging at their hair as they discussed their next move.

Yunho crossed his arms, leaning against the railing. “So, we’re going to investigate what those sharks did… and if they’ve really messed up, we’re supposed to clean up their mess?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jongho, standing beside him, shook his head with a chuckle. “Seems like it. I don’t think Captain Hongjoong’s happy that they went rogue. Taking the girl and her mother? That’s a whole new level of stupid.” He sighed, glancing out at the horizon.

“I mean, we’re talking about a bunch of thugs who can’t follow orders. What’s next? Are they going to steal the moon?”

Yunho snorted. “If they tried, I’d pay good money to see it. But seriously, jongho, this is a mess. We’ve got to figure out how to handle this without making it worse. The last thing we need is a full-blown war with the sharks because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Jongho chuckled darkly. “Yeah, because Hongjoong’s ‘fixing problems quietly’ approach works out so well, right?” He paused. “Let’s just hope these sharks haven’t completely pissed him off. I don’t think even we could smooth things over if he’s really that angry.”

He then grinned. “I’ll make sure to bring some extra bandages, just in case.”

Yunho shot him a sideways glance. “What, you think we’re going to knock some sense into them with our fists?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jongho replied, giving him a smile. “Though, I prefer it when the problem just gets solved with a good ol' conversation. You know, like ‘Hey, don’t take the girl, or I’ll break your legs.’”

Yunho let out a dry laugh. “Sounds like a great ‘conversation’ to me.”

He then smirked at jongho and said, “But you know, I’m always ready to put some holes in bastards. Let’s get to work.” (See what I did there? ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠° )

The air was thick with tension as Jongho and Yunho made their way to the den. They had gathered all the intel they needed and were now ready to end this. The sharp tang of saltwater in the air mixed with the musty, oppressive smell of the building, and Jongho’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

“You ready?” Yunho asked, his voice low, scanning the area.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho replied, his tone steadier than he felt. They moved quickly, slipping through the shadows toward the back entrance of the den. The door creaked open under Jongho’s steady push, and they silently entered.

Jongho and Yunho moved like shadows, circling around the room, eyes scanning for the girl. The moment their eyes met, Jongho felt his heart stop. There she was—tied to a chair, her head lowered. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were bound tight, but she was alive. She looked up at him, her eyes widening.

Jongho felt his chest tighten. He was shocked. Not because this was her. The same girl he had seen in the market, and now here she was, in the middle of this chaos, helpless. But because he still remembered her vividly. He has never remembered anyone's face other than ill intent. This made his heart do something he didn't like.

He was about to rush forward when Yunho grabbed his arm. “Stay focused,” Yunho muttered, his eyes scanning the sharks. “We’ll get her, but we need to take them down first.”

Jongho nodded, his heart racing. He knew Yunho was right—they couldn’t let their guard down. The sharks were too dangerous, and they had to be neutralized quickly.

In one fluid motion, Yunho drew his gun and fired, sending one of the sharks crashing to the ground. The noise startled the rest of the men, and chaos erupted. Jongho lunged forward, his sword cutting through the air with precision. Each swing was met with resistance, but he wasn’t slowing down.

The fight was quick but brutal, the room filled with the sounds of swords clashing and bodies hitting the ground. Jongho’s eyes searched the girl, and as soon as the last shark was down, he rushed to her side.

“Hold on,” he said, his voice softer now, as he cut through her ropes. She winced slightly as he freed her wrists, but she didn’t say a word—her eyes were locked on him, full of both fear and relief.

“You’re safe now,” Jongho said, his heart pounding as he helped her to her feet. But as he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. Her face was streaked with dried tears and blood, she had a busted lip and a bloodied injury on the side of her head. He realized then that this wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something about her that tugged at him, something deeper than just a rescue.

She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Who are you?”

Jongho smiled softly, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions flooding through him. “Jongho. Battle Master on Captain Hongjoong’s ship.”

Her eyes flickered with recognition. “You… you were at the market.” She hesitated, her voice uncertain. “You… you’re a pirate? Of the Halazia”

Jongho nodded, his heart tightening. “We’re here to get you out of this mess. But right now, we need to move fast.”

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

Before she could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Yunho’s voice was low and urgent. “Jongho, we’ve got to go, now!”

Jongho took her hand gently, pulling her toward the door. As they ran, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his heart had just made a decision he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He had come here to do a job, to rescue her and get out. But somewhere in that chaotic moment, he realized he wanted to protect her.

The door slammed open, and they ran out into the night. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit echoed, but Jongho didn’t care. He would protect her. No matter what it took.

You settled back into the familiarity of home, the creaking of the old wooden floors and the comforting hum of the market outside grounding you after the chaos of recent events. Life was quiet again, though a bit lonelier now. Your mother busied herself with building a shop, leaving you to wander between chores and stolen moments of peace.

Life aboard the ship was as chaotic as ever, but lately, the crew had found a new source of amusement—or annoyance, depending on who you asked.

“Jongho, will you sit down already?” Seonghwa groaned, throwing an exasperated glance at the younger man pacing the deck.

Jongho ignored him, his brow furrowed in thought as he muttered to himself. “I haven’t checked in on her in over a week. What if something’s happened? What if someone’s bothering her again?”

“Again with the girl,” Yunho drawled, leaning lazily against a barrel. “You’ve mentioned her three times today already. You’re worse than Hongjoong’s parrot.”

“Worse than his parrot?” Yeosang, the navigator, asked as he descended from the helm, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s saying something. I didn’t think anyone could top its constant squawking.”

“Maybe the parrot’s jealous,” Mingi, the boatswain, chimed in as he carried a coil of rope over his shoulder. He dropped it near the mast and turned to Jongho, his grin matching Yeosang’s. “Sounds like it’s got competition for Jongho’s attention.”

Hongjoong, seated at a small table nearby, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He sipped his drink with a smirk, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Jongho being the center of everyone’s teasing. "I didn't even take my money from her for you"

"captain aren't you like one of the richest people in the 7 seas?" Someone grumbled.

“It’s not like that,” Jongho said firmly, shooting Yunho a glare before turning to Yeosang and Mingi. “She’s been through enough already. Someone has to make sure she’s alright.”

“Someone?” San chimed in, his grin wide. “Or you?”

“Let’s be real,” Wooyoung added with a dramatic sigh. “You don’t just want to make sure she’s safe. You’re attached. Admit it.”

“Sounds like attachment to me,” Yeosang agreed, leaning against the railing with an amused expression. “You’re practically obsessing.”

“I wouldn’t call it obsession,” Mingi said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “It’s more like…” He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening.

“Infatuation.”

Jongho stopped pacing long enough to shoot them all a sharp look. “I’m doing my job. Protecting her is my responsibility.”

“Protecting her,” Seonghwa said, drawing out the words mockingly. “Or is it something more?”

“I don’t love her,” Jongho snapped, his tone final.

The crew burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the deck. Even Hongjoong let out a low chuckle, finally setting his drink down.

“If you don’t love her,” the captain said, leaning back in his chair, “then stop pacing around like a lovesick puppy. You’re throwing off the entire crew."

“Yeah,” Yunho added with a grin. “Even the parrot’s giving you side-eye at this point.”

Jongho opened his mouth to retort but found no words that would convince them otherwise. Instead, he huffed and crossed his arms, retreating to his post with an annoyed scowl.

Yeosang exchanged a glance with Mingi before smirking. “He’ll realize it eventually,” he said quietly.

“Or we’ll keep reminding him until he does,” Mingi replied with a chuckle.

As the laughter died down and the crew returned to their tasks. Jongho didn’t love her, he told himself. He was just… concerned. That was all. Yes, that's it.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen Jongho. You told yourself you shouldn’t expect him, that he had his own life aboard the ship, filled with duties and battles you couldn’t begin to imagine.

But some small, stubborn part of you always found your eyes drifting to the road outside, hoping to catch sight of him.

And then, one evening, as the sky blushed with the soft hues of sunset, you heard it—the measured, confident sound of boots against gravel. Your heart leapt before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped your hands on your apron, glancing toward the door just as his familiar silhouette appeared.

“Jongho,” you said, trying to sound calm though you could feel your pulse racing.

He nodded, stepping into the doorway. His eyes swept the room, taking in the tidy shelves and the faint scent of freshly baked bread. “Everything alright?” he asked, his tone steady, the same question he always asked.

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “It is now. Come in.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the invitation, but eventually stepped inside, his presence filling the small space effortlessly.

You poured him tea, the silence between you familiar and strangely comforting. He didn’t say much—he rarely did—but his quiet presence was enough. You found yourself telling him about the shop, how business had picked up again, and how you’d repaired the shutters just last week. He listened intently, his gaze steady, his attention making you feel like your words mattered.

When he finally rose to leave, you felt a pang of disappointment, though you didn’t say anything. He paused at the door, glancing back at you.

“I’ll check in again,” he said simply.

You nodded, your smile soft but genuine. “I’ll be here.”

And then he was gone, the sound of his boots fading into the evening air. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorway, your heart inexplicably lighter.

You didn’t know why he kept coming back, and maybe he didn’t either. But you found yourself looking forward to his visits, to the way he made you feel seen and safe in a way no one else ever had. For now, that was enough.

The air outside buzzed with excitement, the faint sound of music and chatter from the central town festival reaching your small home. You stood at the window, peeking out at the vibrant colors of the decorations that dotted the streets beyond your view.

The door creaked open, and you turned to see Jongho stepping inside. His usual calm demeanor was in place, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, taking in the faint spark of longing in your expression.

“There’s a festival in town,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, brushing your hands on your skirt. “I know. I’ve always wanted to go, but…”

Your voice trailed off, and you glanced toward your mother, who stood nearby, watching the two of you.

Jongho followed your gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why not?”

Your mother sighed, folding her arms. “She’s young, and festivals can be crowded, chaotic… dangerous. I can’t let her go alone.”

“I’ll take her,” Jongho said simply, as though the decision had already been made.

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

Both you and your mother looked at him, surprised. He met your mother’s gaze evenly, his tone firm. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Your mother hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, she nodded, though she still seemed unsure. “Alright. But don’t let her out of your sight.”

A rush of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you as you grabbed your shawl. “Thank you, Jongho,” you said softly, your smile warm and genuine.

---

The town was alive with color and energy. Lanterns hung from every building, their soft glow casting a warm light over the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined the roads, selling everything from sweets to trinkets, and performers entertained small crowds with music and dancing.

Jongho stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor in the lively chaos. His hand hovered near your back, guiding you through the crowd without a word.

“Where should we go first?” you asked, looking up at him.

He glanced around, his eyes scanning the stalls and performers. “Wherever you want.”

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

You look down a bit and think. You'd never been given choices. They were always made for you. You always felt pressure whenever someone said to choose something and at the end you just keep saying ‘whatever you want’.

You grinned, feeling a rare sense of freedom. Tugging gently on his sleeve, you led him to a stall selling candied apples. He didn’t protest when you bought one for yourself and insisted he try one too, but he informed you that he can't have sweet things.

You went around stall from stall, that's when you spotted a beautiful earring in one of the stalls. It was completely your style and pretty. You kept looking at it, that's when jongho noticed you looking somewhere.

“Where are you looking at?”

You look back at him and smile, “nothing.” Maybe I can ask mom to buy these next year, if we can come.

As the night went on, you wandered from one attraction to another. You laughed at a juggler’s clumsy tricks, marveled at the intricate designs of hand-painted fans, and even managed to coax Jongho into trying his hand at a ring toss game.

He didn’t win, but the sight of him concentrating so intently on the simple game made you laugh until your sides hurt.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile.

“Maybe,” you teased, feeling more at ease with him than ever before.

When the night sky filled with stars, the two of you found a quieter spot on the edge of the festival grounds. You sat on a low stone wall, watching the festival bustling with people even though it was pretty late at night.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your voice soft.

Jongho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “For what?”

“For taking me here,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Looking out for me. You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s no trouble.”

Back at the ship, Jongho returned to the bustling crew. The festival had left him with a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re back,” Yunho said, leaning against the mast with a grin. “How was your little outing?”

“It was fine,” Jongho replied curtly, brushing past him.

“Fine?” Wooyoung piped up, sidling up with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That’s all we get? Come on, did she hold your hand? Laugh at your jokes? Look at you like you’re her hero?”

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

But the teasing only grew as San joined in. “Admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”

Jongho shot them a glare that silenced most of their laughter, though their knowing looks didn’t fade.

He didn’t understand the pull he felt toward you, but one thing was clear: he would keep protecting you, no matter what. Anything beyond that… he wasn’t ready to think about it

The next time Jongho visited your home, it was early evening. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden light over the small house. You were outside, tending to the small garden by the porch, when you noticed him approaching.

“Jongho,” you greeted, brushing dirt off your hands as you stood. His posture was straighter, and his hands were tucked behind his back.

“Hello,” he said, his voice calm as always, though his eyes briefly flickered down to the dirt smudged on your cheek.

“What brings you here?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as though ensuring no one was watching. Then, clearing his throat, he brought his hand forward to reveal a small cloth-wrapped bundle.

You blinked at it, unsure of what it could be. “What’s this?”

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gruff, though he avoided your gaze as he extended the bundle toward you.

With a curious smile, you untied the cloth, your breath catching as the fabric fell away to reveal a pair of delicate earrings. They were simple yet elegant, their small gemstone pendants glinting in the light.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized them. “These… these were at the festival,” you murmured, tracing a finger over the smooth surface of one gem. “I saw them, but—”.

“You were staring at them right? That day?,” Jongho interrupted, his voice firm but quieter now. “Figured you might like them.”

Clutching the earrings tightly in your hand. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he replied simply, meeting your gaze for a moment before looking away, almost as if he were embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insisted, a soft laugh escaping you. “This is… this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”

Jongho shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just thought you’d like them.”

Your fingers gently traced over the smooth gemstones on the earrings, the delicate sparkle catching the fading sunlight. “But…” you hesitated, looking up at Jongho, who stood there with his usual calm demeanor. “Aren’t these expensive?”

He tilted his head slightly, an almost amused glint in his eyes. “I’m rich,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

You blinked at him, surprised by his bluntness. “You’re what?”

“Rich,” he repeated, his tone steady, though there was the faintest hint of humor tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that surprise you? I'm part of the richest pirates in the seven seas. Do you not know?”

“I mean… you’re on a ship all the time,” you said, flustered. “You don’t exactly seem—”

“Seem what?” he cut in, raising an eyebrow.

“Like someone who’d buy earrings for a girl,” you finished, your cheeks warming.

Jongho crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t buy them for just anyone. I bought them for you. That’s different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you clutched the earrings tighter, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“I told you, it’s no big deal,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “You liked them, so I got them. Don’t think too much about it.”

You smiled despite yourself, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite name. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice quieter this time.

He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. “You’re welcome.”

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but call after him, “So, how rich are we talking?”

Jongho paused, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that was so subtle you almost missed it. “Rich enough to buy the earrings and not think twice about it.”

You laughed softly as he walked away, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Unknown to you, the poor boy had gone through the torment of his 7 brothers, who won't leave him alone. They teased him so much about the earrings that he almost almost threw one of them overboard.

The crew was always quick to notice anything out of the ordinary, and had clearly picked up on Jongho’s latest visit to your home.

“So,” Yunho started, leaning casually against a barrel as Jongho walked across the deck, “we heard about the earrings.”

Jongho paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “What about them?”

“Oh, nothing,” Wooyoung piped up, barely containing his grin. “Just that our stoic Jongho has a soft spot for a certain someone.”

San joined in, throwing an arm dramatically around Jongho’s shoulder. “You know, if you’re going to buy her gifts, why not go all out? Maybe a necklace next time? Or a whole jewelry set?”

Jongho shrugged off San’s arm, his expression unimpressed. “It was just a pair of earrings. Don’t make it a big deal.”

“A pair of earrings,” Seonghwa repeated, feigning shock. “Do you know how much effort that is? Choosing the right ones, paying for them…”

Yeosang, who rarely joined in on the teasing, leaned against the railing with a faint smirk. “I’m just curious how long it took you to pick them out. Did you stare at the stall for an hour?”

“He probably scared the vendor,” Mingi added, his laughter booming across the deck. “Standing there, glaring at the earrings until they wrapped them up for him.”

Even Hongjoong, who had been silently observing from his chair, chimed in with a sly smile. “So, Jongho, how does it feel to be the romantic of the group? Should we start calling you the ship’s Cupid?”

Jongho’s patience was clearly thinning, but his expression remained steady. “I’m not romantic. I just thought she’d like them. That’s it.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back. “He thought she’d like them! Oh, it’s worse than we thought—he’s thinking about her!”

“That’s enough,” Jongho said firmly, though the slight pink tinge to his ears betrayed his frustration.

Yunho, ever the instigator, leaned closer with a mischievous grin. “You know, Jongho, if you keep this up, we might need to start a fund for all the gifts you’ll be buying her.”

Jongho shot him a sharp look. “You’re all lucky I don’t throw you overboard.”

The crew erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying themselves at Jongho’s expense. Despite his annoyance, Jongho couldn’t fully suppress a faint smile as he turned and walked away.

As the teasing continued behind him, one thought lingered in his mind: he didn’t regret buying the earrings, no matter how much they made fun of him. If it made you smile, it was worth every ounce of ridicule.

The laughter and teasing aboard the ship gradually subsided as the crew prepared for their next voyage. Supplies were loaded, sails checked, and the familiar hum of activity filled the air. But this time, there was an unspoken heaviness among them. They were leaving the port—and there was no telling when they’d return.

Jongho stood near the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the town lay, now bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Yunho said, walking up beside him and leaning against the railing.

Jongho didn’t respond immediately. His grip on the wood tightened slightly, his eyes scanning the distant rooftops as though he could catch a glimpse of you from here. “I know,” he said finally, though his tone lacked conviction.

Yunho chuckled softly. “You’re terrible at lying, Jongho. Especially to yourself.”

“Leave him be,” Seonghwa said, passing by with a small smirk. “He’s just sulking because he can’t buy her more earrings from the next town.”

“Maybe we should’ve taken her with us,” Wooyoung suggested with a mischievous grin, appearing on Jongho’s other side. “At least then, Jongho wouldn’t be moping around like a kicked puppy.”

Jongho shot him a warning look. “She’s safer at home.”

“True,” Mingi chimed in as he approached, slapping Jongho on the back. “But are you safer without her?”

The others burst into laughter, their voices carrying across the deck, but Jongho remained silent. His thoughts were already elsewhere—back at the small house where he’d left you.

Now, as the ship’s anchor was lifted and the sails unfurled, Jongho couldn’t help but glance back one last time. The town grew smaller in the distance, and with it, the little piece of peace he’d found there.

Everything had to come to an end, he reminded himself, but this end felt heavier than he’d expected. Even as the ship carried him further from the port, his thoughts lingered on you—on your quiet strength, your laughter, and the way your smile had made the world seem just a little brighter.

For now, all he could do was focus on the journey ahead and trust that fate would bring him back to you someday.

Their journey had been long and unpredictable, filled with danger, discovery, and the relentless pursuit of fortune. From navigating treacherous waters to encountering rival ships, every day aboard the ship demanded resilience and wit.

They'd charted unknown territories, bartered with distant towns, and clashed with pirates in battles that tested their mettle. The crew thrived on the adrenaline of their adventures, though the weight of uncertainty often hung over them.

For Jongho, the journey was a blur of responsibility and restlessness, his thoughts occasionally drifting to the little house by the port. Each victory and challenge brought them closer to returning, though they never knew when that day would come.

Now, after years away, the ship had finally docked, and their travels were behind them—for now.

The town felt both familiar and distant as Jongho and the crew disembarked after years at sea. Jongho’s eyes instinctively searched the streets, scanning for any sign of you. The house came into view quickly, and his steps faltered. It looked well-kept, the garden vibrant and alive, and the faint scent of baked goods wafted from an open window.

As he approached the door, he noticed a subtle change—a sign hung near the entrance: “Homemade Goods & Repairs.” His brow furrowed, curiosity rising.

He knocked lightly, and a familiar voice called out, “One moment!”

When you opened the door, your expression lit up instantly. “Jongho!”

You were different, older somehow, with a confidence in the way you stood. Your hands were dusted with flour, and there was a smudge of it on your cheek. But your smile was as bright as ever, and seeing it eased something in Jongho’s chest.

“You’re back,” you said warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t expect to see this,” Jongho replied, motioning toward the bustling shop area. Shelves lined with jars of jams and pastries occupied one side, while the other side displayed tools and items neatly organized for repairs.

You chuckled, wiping your hands on your apron. “After my mom passed, I needed something to keep me busy. The shop helps, and it keeps me connected to the town. I do alright.”

Jongho nodded, glancing around. The place had a sense of order and life he hadn’t expected. “You’re running this by yourself?”

“For now,” you replied, smiling proudly. “The town’s been good to me. They keep me busy enough, and I like it that way.”

Jongho’s gaze lingered on you, and he couldn’t help but notice the resilience in your tone. You weren’t the fragile girl he’d left behind. You’d grown, thrived even, despite everything.

“You’ve done well,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with admiration.

Still, his heart felt heavy as he considered what lay ahead. The ship wouldn’t stay docked for long; it never did. His life was the sea—a life of unpredictability, danger, and adventure. But standing here, surrounded by the quiet hum of your shop, he wondered if there was room for something else.

“You’ve made a good life for yourself,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, leaning against the counter. “I have. It’s not always easy, but it’s mine.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions. He broke it first.

“I can’t ask you to leave this behind,” he said. “You’ve worked too hard to build it.”

Your brow furrowed as you studied him. “And you’re not ready to leave the sea.”

He shook his head. “That's all I’ve ever known.”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. “Then don’t. You don’t have to choose, Jongho.”

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

“You come and go,” you continued. “The sea is part of who you are, and I wouldn’t want to take that from you. But when you’re here, this can be home. If you want it to be.”

Home. The word hung in the air between you, and for the first time, Jongho felt a sense of calm he hadn’t known he was searching for.

“I don’t deserve that,” he said, his voice barely audible.

You smiled softly. “Maybe not. But it’s here anyway.”

Jongho was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words settling over him. He wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. He wanted to ask you to come with him, to leave everything behind and sail with him, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair. You had your life here, and he couldn’t ask you to give that up for the uncertain life he led.

But then, without thinking, the words left his mouth, surprising even himself.

“Marry me.”

You froze, your eyes wide with shock. Jongho instantly regretted speaking before he’d thought it through. But he couldn’t take the words back now, and he didn’t want to.

He cleared his throat, trying to explain. “I know it sounds sudden, and I’m not asking you to give up your life here, but…” His voice faltered. “I don’t want to keep going back and forth, not anymore. I want you to be with me, always. Even when I’m out there on the sea. We could make it work, I know we could.”

You stared at him, your heart beating fast as you processed his words. The shock began to wear off, replaced by something warm and steady. Jongho had always been a protector to you, but hearing him say he wanted more—that he wanted to be with you no matter what—stirred something deep inside you.

You took a deep breath, the weight of his question settling on your chest. “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. “This isn’t just about wanting me close when it’s convenient for you?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No. I want all of you. Even when I’m gone. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me think about staying.”

You met his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. There was no doubt in your mind. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady now. “If you’re asking me to be part of your life, even with all the uncertainty, then yes. I’ll marry you.”

A smile spread across Jongho’s face, relief flooding through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this certain about anything. Without another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, the promise of the future settling between you like a quiet promise.

The sea might still call to him, but now, he had something far more important to come back to. And this time, it wouldn’t be just a visit—it would be home.

[kawa-goat]

General Thoughts on Buried Secrets (Hello Neighbor)

Not sure if I'd classify this as a rant post or not. Spoilers ahead, obviously.

If some of my points don't make sense, we can discuss it in the comments. It's 1AM by the time I'm writing this post, so forgive me if the text feels all slammered and not cohesive.

Took me a decade to finish it, but the secrets were unburied (like Jay would say).

And holy crap, I have pretty strong feelings about this book.

Okay, it's not that bad, but comparing to the previous two... it felt flat. I don't know how the explain it in more cohesive terms, but it didn't hit the same way the previous two did.

First, I like the ending. Though it ended on a pretty sad note, this is exactly what the Nicky trilogy (it feels surreal to actually type that) was leading up to.

The very prologue of Missing Pieces is a warning for Nicky to stop wandering, else he'd not make home some day. Nicky's character in general is centered around that: wandering.

"Oh, but what happened after he got kidnapped? What about Nicky's friends? How did he escape?"

Questions like this come from a misunderstanding. The books aren't meant to be your introduction to the lore. They're meant to be an additional piece of information, for those that were curious about the world of Hello Neighbor and wanted to know more about the past.

The true story is told in the games. Make no mistake—Hello Neighbor is a gaming franchise. The story originates from the games.

The ending of Buried Secrets is one-to-one with Act 1 for a reason. You're meant to read these books with the knowledge from the games. So that when you read the trilogy, you went: "Oh, so that's how it happened."

At least, this should be in theory. The sad reality is that games just fucking suck in storytelling and gameplay, to the point where the actual plot is shoved aside for other matters. That's why, in most cases for fans, the books act as an introduction to the story of the games, instead of how it should be in the other way around.

This is why Buried Secrets ends in this cliffhanger way. It's a prequel of the games, but it isn't meant to be an introduction. It's meant to be an additional explanation. You can blame the games' lack of quality for this.

Anyway, I liked the ending because it tied up Nicky's wandering arc in a pretty neat way.

... And that's it. That's literally the only thing that I like about this book. Everything else feels forced just to reach this specific ending.

I'm not sure if Carly was forced to make this a trilogy, but either way this definitely harmed the pacing and plot. Every character is written in a specific way that feels a little unrealistic based on the previous books.

See, Nicky is supposed to break into Peterson's house alone, without the help of his friends. Their method of justifying this is by having literally everyone in town suspecting that Nicky was the one behind the weird activities. No matter how illogical that seems.

My biggest complaint is Maritza.

Like, I won't lie that she isn't reasonable at first glance. Maritza is tired of fighting. She wants to move on. She thinks Nicky is changing for worse because of his obsession with the case. This is all understandable.

The problem is, instead of trying to convince him to move on, she would rather believe he did all of this to frame Peterson specifically? Despite knowing what Theodore's capable of, she'd rather believe that her closest friend would lie to everyone just to convince them of something they were already certain (that Theodore is fucking dangerous)?

I get they tried to apologize to Nicky by the end of the book, but it's too little and too late. Yeah, Peterson framed Nicky in an ill-timing, but would Nicky's only friends believe he'd actually do all of this ALONE?

It just doesn't feel natural.

The beginning and middle part of the book is literally Nicky getting kicked around like an abused puppy and being lonely again. The latter chapters, as well as Jay and Lu, kinda hard carries the entire book. Earthpro is not as interesting as it was in Waking Nightmare. And Buried Secrets tries really hard to get you to hate Trinity and Maritza with the "we are changing clubs" thing.

Overall, I wouldn't say It's a bad book, but definitely the weakest and most surreal among the three.

[cripplecharacters]

this might sound weird, but allow me to explain. I’m writing a fanfiction where a Deaf character dies and reincarnates as an animatronic. I don’t want to remove his disability when he is reborn, because that feels iffy at best, but I wasn’t sure what was the best way to go about keeping it. He does need to detect where people are, but I don’t want to make this like a “cure” scenario. So far, I have a few ideas.

Just say his animatronic doesn’t have audio sensors to avoid complications

Give him the ability to feel vibrations from other people’s movements through the animatronic, but not restore his hearing

Allow him to sense ghosts and souls through a sort of sixth

all of the above?

I’m wondering which of these makes the most sense or is the least harmful, or if this whole thing feels iffy, what I could do as an alternative. I don’t want to tokenize or trivialize this character, but he is also Literally in Five Nights at Freddy’s, which is… not great at realistic disability rep. At all. And the situation is just so precise I don’t have anything else I can look towards for reference. (and as a final note: abled and disabled characters get turned into animatronics, it’s not just him.)

Hi!

I don't know the source material, so please correct if I make mistakes!

Idea #1 sounds great to me. That's a simple way to explain he's a Deaf animatronic.

Idea #2 also seems fine. Sensing vibrations is realistic. A cue in Deaf communication to get attention can be tapping or shaking a floor/table.

I'm not in love with idea #3. Unless that is an ability of all animatronics, you have other d/Deaf animatronics without the ability, and/or he had it when he was alive, it feels like a specific cure for your Deaf character. I would avoid this one.

Mod Rock

[icarusredwings]

This only fits into my idea that Wolvie is demi. Sure he knows someones hot when he sees them but he dosn't really... feel anything.

He's been alive so long that people doing stuff to him just feels... kind of annoying at this point? Like yeah, okay, in Logan the drunk wife girl flashed her tits at him and he snorted, and rolled his eyes all embaressed but I don't think this counts as "hot and bothered." I think this counts as "omg lady calm down lol im just the driver lol" he did think it was a nice gesture but its an empty gesture and thats why it dosn't really do anything for him.

I think this is why he and Kurt get along so well (HERE ME OUT) Because one of kurts biggest "flaws" is that he is extremely touchy, and while the other x men cant touch logan much or lean on him, sit on him, etc, Kurt can full pearch on him and Logan dosn't care. Actually he does care. He's glad. He's happy that Kurt feels this safe with him. Happy that he feels comfortable enough to be around "the angry guy with claws". Happy that Kurt openly gives him affection without there being this weird "okay now we have to fuck" silent agreement. Logan is so tired of trying to get to know someone, cuddle them and hug them, without them immediately expecting them to sleep together. (*JINGLES KEYS* Stay with me!)

And i mean... no.. hes not sex repulsed clearly but it dosn't feel right in his chest. To fuck someone and then they leave. Wolverines mate for life so I think the thing is, what gets him hot and bothered is proving youll stay. Sticking it out with him through all times, telling him you're never going to leave him.

Then- Oh good golly then? Everything is horny worthy. You could just be sitting there and he'd get all pissy because now hes horny and mad about it. You could cassually bring him food and say you thought he might be hungry and he'll let the food get cold because hes too busy fucking you, and then eat the food after to show gratitude and appreciation.

Logan is not meant for hook up culture. He is made for "Our souls are so intertwined that seperating us would put a tear in the universe."

He could see someone whole ass naked and just blink and ask where their clothes went. You could tell him that you want him to do the dirtiest things and he'd probably just blush and think you have alternate motives.

I like to think that he does sometimes finally accept a hook up here and there simply because A. Why not. He hasnt been held in awhile and B. Why not he's literally gonn live forever might as well get some tail if they're offering.

But if and when he finds that person(s) he's locked in. Theres nothing no one else could do that would make him all hot and bothered. Someone could literally give him a lap dance and hed probably just sit there confused as hell, tell them stop, or just leave. It doesn't do anything for him at all.

Now litsen (at least in Finding Home Au, cause theyre married) Wade could come slip into bed with him, very gently rub his arm, kiss him goodnight, then cuddle into his back and Logan would automatically sit up and glare at him cause now hes hard.

"Why do you keep doing that?! Stop!"

And wades all confused "stop what?" Cause hes genuienly tired, but too bad cause Wolvie puts that baby to sleep a different way. (Best sleeps of his life btw)

Morph too, I feel like in 97 morph gets a lot of passes for jokes and touchiness. I also feel like that for the first week (maybe a month idk logan is dumb) or so logan thinks moprh is joking and dosnt actually care about him in that way, so morph starts saying more genuine and sensitive things to him and Logan now is actually blushing, still in denial but is catching butterflies, hoping that morph isnt lying but is too scared to make a move, worried their friendship will end.

Man idk what to say about storm. Logan was hot for storm the first time she punched him in the face. Idk what to tell yall, hes a simp for that woman and I am too so like I get it. Id be terrified to fuck storm though if I was litTERALLY MADE OF METAL like bruh he has more balls then me cause id be scared shed kill me after I ate her out by electrocuting me with my skull crushed between her thighs. ANYWAY

🫡🫡GLORRRY GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE 🪖🪖💪

I think Logan would be very difficult to get hot and bothered. Like. He's been through so much yanno?

Like flash a titty at this man and he'll probably be like, "what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? Can't you take me to dinner first?"

[cum-a-calla]

we already kind of talked about this but…

willa telling roman about this weird new age hypnotism meditation bullshit she does. she thinks it will help him “relax” and get “more in touch with his physical being” and “release him from ego”. okay, rude. he’s, like, already super humble and in tune with himself, but whatever.

roman making his assistant lead him through it (for “the bit” and also to torture them) because there’s no way it could work, right? it’ll just be a funny, totally non-sexual team-building exercise.

uh oh— it works too well.

merry christmas!

merry late xmas.

-

"This is stupid."

You watch Roman sit on his office floor, legs crossed, exasperated at you. That line in his brow carves a grim cast to his expression, glaring at you like you forced him to do this. You take a breath, hands on your knees as you sit across from him. He keeps glancing at the windows, every single blind closed, the door locked. You’re almost positive that as his assistant and his inferior, there is some kind of rule about this - right? Does it matter? Not really. This isn’t the most unorthodox thing you’ve done for him in your brief career.

"I mean... you ASKED me to do this, so -"

"Blah blah blah, I get it, shut the fuck up." He waves your words away, snapping without any real cruelty. He mostly seems tired, like he needs a goddamn nap, maybe a juice box. "Just - okay. I'm just letting you know we look fucking stupid."

“Right. Noted, thank you.”

After finally encouraging him to breathe into his core - and after he cracked off some stupid jokes to dispel his irritating tension - you’ve got him really listening. It feels nice. Taking in all the breaths, loosening your muscles. You manage to keep yourself fairly relaxed while opening your eyes to watch Roman. His eyes are shut, and that crease in his brow is gone. His sharp cheekbones don’t clench down into his jaw; his hands rest on his knees. There are gorgeous lines of veins climbing up from his fingers, through his hands and forearms. They disappear under the rolled sleeves of his dress shirt, clinging to him in such a pleasant way that it only serves you to look away before you’re… not so relaxed anymore.

There are words, soft, whispered - about his safety, his comfort, the ability to melt down into the floor. Be heavy. Sink.

For a moment, you feel like he’s asleep. He’s never so still, so… quiet. The fact that he hasn’t uttered a single joke or smirked or scoffed is unusual, to say the least. You wiggle your fingers under his face, slightly downturned.

“… Roman?” you ask softly. He moves a little, making a soft noise in his throat. Repeating his name, he cracks his eyes open, face gentle, still soft. His lids are so heavy, eyes dilated. Relaxed.

“Mmm?”

You stare back at him for a moment and he maintains eye contact, utterly silent. You smile and he returns in, just a little. Seeing his gentle expression is so uncanny that you utter a laugh, and he smiles only a little bigger, eyes still so heavy. He seems to hover gently in place. It’s almost like he’s drunk, or sleep talking. If he weren’t staring right into your eyes, you’d swear he were unconscious.

“Uh. So… you look… you look pretty loose, Rome.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m warm. Feels nice.”

Unable to help your own curiosity, you reach out to touch his hand and he glances down at it, then back at you, maintaining that stupid little smile. God, he… he looks -

No. Okay. Enough.

He trails his slow, warm fingers over yours, giving you such a light squeeze it has you stifling a gasp. A little one - just a little. Not a big deal. Not a big fucking deal. His eyes… fucking Christ. “Roman?”

“Mmm? Yeah?” His teeth. He’s smiling while talking, tongue running along his canine, lazy, eyes so fucking tired and hazed over. Oh, fuck - no, no, no. No. You can feel the warmth in your face, and thinking about it only makes it worse. Idly, you press the back of your cool hand against a cheek, trying to cool the feverish skin. Roman’s gaze shifts and you freeze. It feels like being a caged animal. It feels like neither of you are in his office anymore, existing in some bizarre twin world - it’s just… not Roman. Not really. He pulls his hand away from yours and reaches up, pressing his palm against your cheek while your eyes go wide. Heart thudding in your chest, pulsing in the tip of your nose and the cartilage in your ears. His pupils distend, yawning open into lovely little portals. Dark. He looks at you, his stare soft. Bedroom eyes. Focused, molten. “You look good like that. I do that to you?”

He sounds fucking drunk. His voice is so breathy and quiet. You swallow. There’s a ringing in your ears - it’s your blood, roaring. His thumb strokes your cheekbone. Somewhere in there is a knowing, a sexy sort of hint. The faintest glimmer of mischief, only a touch of it. No tension in his face. Everything slow, melting into the moment.

“Yeah.” Maybe you’re too relaxed, too. Roman ducks his head, only a moment, grin spreading easy. Toothy. Shy. Fucking shy. When he looks back up, he looks boyishly handsome, hair hanging over his forehead. He leans forward and crawls his fingers up your thighs, spider legs, tickling. So slow. Waiting, taking his time. Relaxed. When he reaches the tender bends of your legs, thighs melting into the soft flesh of your hips, he’s so close you could taste him if you wanted to. He never gives you the chance to find out for yourself - he leans in, pressing the most chaste kiss against your mouth. Eyelids fluttering shut, you return it. His lips are so smooth, his tongue against your top lip as he pulls back - just a lick. Just a little.

That moan can’t be yours, soft as it is. Must have been something else.

Roman giggles a little - a gentle sound, pleased with himself. The proof of his pleasure is evident, pulsing in the buttery-soft material of his tailored slacks.

“Uh… -” The time for words ends. There aren’t any more.

Roman rests his weight on your seated hips as he unfolds his slim legs, smoothly making his way to his knees as his mouth comes back. He’s firmer, but still takes his time; he tastes you, tongue against yours. Your lip gets caught between his teeth and he pulls, but he doesn’t bite hard. He moans into your kiss and it’s over. There was never going to be a chance, and now you’re absolutely fucked. He continues his sensual, patient assault, guiding you to unfold your legs and lie back. The floor, the shitty carpet - none of that matters. None of it registers. Only Roman’s hot breath on your throat as he drags his tongue over your racing pulse, his hands smoothing up over your ribs, over your chest. His thigh between yours, and then both of them as you part willingly for him. The feeling of him so solid against your clothed cunt, his hips rolling slow and steady like a tide. It washes over the both of you. God, he tastes good - he smells good, spicy, musky. His stubble is pleasantly scratchy. It feels good as he unbuttons your shirt and kisses down in the valley between your breasts - he kisses at the swollen flesh there, hands kneading. You’re at the button and zipper of your own slacks, hurrying to capture his with your trembling digits so you can free the both of you.

Roman moans, hands leaving only to free his cock - no words. None as he guides himself to your cunt - slick. Tight. All that rippled, gorgeous flesh there for the taking, pushing inside of you with the most deliciously infuriating patience. A slow rock of his hips until he’s fully seated, grinding against the deepest, most sensitive nerves. All the heat. Only vaguely mindful of the world outside his office, the both of you taking turns tasting each others’ gentle whines, his voice drawn high and sensitive. All of you, all of him, bare, raw. Fingers on the sharp edges of Roman’s cheekbones, tracing with your thumbs to meet the corners of his jaw. Feeling it move as he consumes your moans, your sobbing little sounds as you try to keep quiet. Roman’s hands wander down, feeling the curve of your ass as he thrusts, undulating, gripping you tenderly there like he can’t bear to not cover as much of you as he can with his own body. His teeth skating over your throat as your climax approaches, deep, different than usual. Nothing about this is usual. Not even fucking close.

Roman shifts his angle just a little and it’s like magic - the suddenness of your orgasm flows up into your brain like sparks, those tiny, fizzing bubbles that evaporate from the edge of a hard wave, surging back down in the riptide to devastate you as it crashes down your belly, your thighs, all the way to your toes as they curl. All of it is cyclical - the unending wave of your body tensing up, contracting; Roman’s rolling hips; his soft little moans in your ear, on a wonderful loop. Those will stay - you’ll remember them late at night while your fingers do what they can to replicate the pleasure, but it’s never the same on your own. Roman whines and goes taut with you, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave a little mark - the marks of those teeth, that delicate flesh that is going to be purple the next day until it fades into a brown, a green. The dimples his teeth make fade before any of that. The sensation stays. Roman’s cock throbs inside of you and he’s filling you up, hips twitching. Your fingers in his hair. He kisses you again, and it’s sloppy - his lips are wet, his tongue against yours in earnest. Cyclical. Mouth to mouth, Roman still buried to the hilt inside your cunt. No beginning. No end. Only heat. Only dying stars, blooming bruises.

Redressing should be awkward, maybe. Roman helps you, and still there aren’t words. Just tenderness. Both of you red, and the sheen of sweat on his face is beautiful, the way his hair has shaken out of its styled part. Loose. Strands hang over his forehead. Only a hint of his smirk is there - just behind the smile. Just a touch. Both of you back in position, legs folded, breaths caught. Roman’s cum leaking from you, his dreamy bedroom-eyes getting a little clearer. A little less lost. After a long beat, you decide to pretend nothing happened. You clear your throat, blinking, watching him.

“Ro… Roman?”

“Yeah.” He sounds clearer, returning back to a familiar register. Like he’s shaking it off. The lines around his smirk - there it is. A certain degree of smugness in those eyes, pupils not so blown. “What?”

“Nothing,” you test. He cocks an eyebrow and the flush returns with a vengeance, hotter than before. “I just think it… worked.”

“Uh-huh.” Roman tilts his head, cracking his neck. He scoffs with clear pleasure as he stretches his arms up and catches you eyeing his lithe form, slim belly peeking from under his shirt before he shudders back to sitting. “Not bad. I feel all… mmm, relieved. Don’t you?”

[susiekern]

10. the one with the talk

warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual activities

word count: 838 (it's short, sorry)

masterlist

You’ve spent the last half an hour pacing around the hotel room, head filled with nervous thoughts. Terrified of the conversation that will probably happen in a few minutes and a little mad. But you’re not sure if the latter is directed at Megumi or yourself. This talk should’ve taken place a long time ago, and while you knew why you hadn’t started it, why didn’t he?

Did he have different reasons than your own? What if for him it was just a way to get something without any strings attached? But if that’s the case, would he act like he did this morning? Or talk to you in general? Usually, one-night stands or fuck buddies don’t cuddle after they’re done, don’t talk about their day, or spend time together outside of the bed in general, right? So many questions and not even one solid answer.

“Hey.” You are so lost in thoughts, you don’t even notice when Megumi enters the room and stands in the doorway. He looks tired, and his voice is a little raspy, but you blame it on the day with his family. He mentioned they were quite tiring before.

“Hey.” Your response is almost shy as you stop pacing and look at him.

“How was the event? And the concert?”

“Good. Yeah, it was good. I’ve met some followers at the expo, and The Fallen were amazing, like always.” You answer, watching as he slides his jacket off and hangs it over the chair that’s next to the big window. “We should talk.”

Megumi smirks hearing the sudden confidence behind these words and nods.

“Yeah, I think so.” There’s a tension in the room when you both sit at the edge of the bed, facing each other. “I’ll start. Just… let me finish before you say anything, okay?”

“Sure.” You nod and put your hands on your lap to stop yourself from fidgeting.

“I never wanted this to play out like that. When we met, I should’ve apologized for how my words came out; it wasn’t my intention to sound rude or hostile. Then it gave me some weird satisfaction, fighting with you, but I didn’t realize why until that night at Supernova. When you get excited or angry, your eyes glisten, and there are so many emotions on your face, it makes me feel alive in a way. Kind of like when I’m making music. It’s almost addicting. And after Supernova I’ve realized we don’t need to fight to get it, because every time I kiss you, it’s there too. Then we started meeting on the roof, and I don’t even know when you broke your way into my mind. I don’t know when I started caring and falling for you, y/n. You got me addicted, and I don’t want to let go; I don’t want it to end. And if you let me, I’ll try to show you what it means to me.”

For a second or two, all you can hear is your heartbeat. It’s racing, trying to escape your chest like it wants you to give it to Megumi. Funny, because it feels like you’ve already done it. His eyes didn’t leave yours for even a moment, and there’s sincerity and hope glistening in them.

Once before, you thought about how they remind you of a forest you could get lost in. You don’t know when, but you did. And there’s no escape route; you wouldn’t use it anyway.

“I’d let you do anything, Megumi, even break me. ‘Cause I have no idea when I started falling either. But suddenly you were on my mind almost constantly, and as much as it was infuriating, it felt right too. Fuck, even at the date with Yuta I couldn’t help but compare him to you, and it was just nice because his smile and touch didn’t make my body and mind stupid like yours do. I’ve never felt that way about someone, and I think I’d regret it if we didn’t at least try to figure it out.” Your voice and hands are trembling from emotions. Are you nervous? It doesn’t matter, because when Megumi takes your hand in his and smiles at you, it’s gone. The only thing left is the peace and overwhelming comfort you find in this small smile.

“So, should we try?” He asks, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, let’s try.”

For now, it’s enough. Trying is more than you could’ve asked for, and it seems you’re both content with that. You spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, either talking or lying in comfortable silence, taking in the warmth and comfort of being with the other person. Once in a while, Megumi gives you a soft kiss on the lips or the top of your head, whispering gentle words. Barely awake at this point, you catch a few that make your heart clench.

“You’re like a rain that washes my heart of the dust and salt, dear.”

tag list (lmk if you wanna be added!): @nytylie @fresa-luna @syrooo @zaranobiyuyu @jvpit3rr @pandabiene5115 @good-mourning0 @pearlydays @irwinchester @pxppetmxster @ivydoesit23 @zayuriluvs

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

quick question (maybe? Hopefully?) for anyone who has played Veilguard more than me or has a better memory than I do. Did I miss something with Davrin's backstory as it pertains to why he only does casual relationships?

I keep seeing a sort of vibe assigned to Davrin that to me is characterized as (oversimplifying here) "oh he only does hookups and Rook shows him that it's okay to not feel like you're mere breaths away from death all the time, and that's the root of his holdups" and while yes that's a vibe he carries I don't necessarily think that was an irrational or unfair perspective to carry in light of who he is and what he does? The idea of being like "silly Davrin, of course you can have a future with love!" that I felt while playing through his romance keeps throwing me. Because the whole point of the Grey Wardens is "your life is no longer entirely your own, you exist for Something Greater." Antoine and Evka are the only concrete example I feel like we get of this idea being challenged without your playable character being involved (disclaimer: I have started but not finished DLC for Origins and I vaguely remember there perhaps being additional examples in Awakening), and we don't get that until Veilguard. You can of course romance Alistair as a HoF, but that's still another example of "we're in the cause together so we both understand what we may or may not have tomorrow," while romancing Blackwall in Inquisition is almost kind of like a "thank God, no Calling to worry about here" situation. At the very least, the impression I've gotten is that it's very much the exception and not the rule for Wardens to find True Love.

I could once again be remembering incorrectly, but in my playthrough when I romanced Davrin, I felt weird being so calm and casual while he sits there panicking because he didn't die at Weisshaupt because like. Yeah, it makes sense in a world where most of the time, a warden has to die alongside an archdemon. And it would make sense to me to panic a little bit if you stab an archdemon and remain breathing by the end sans an old god baby to show for it, because surely something Cursed Has Gone Down. And maybe that means something is wrong with you, that you are somehow partially responsible for how bad things are about to get. That you played by the rules and did everything right and still weren't enough.

Idk. I think the TLDR of it is that there's a difference to me between Davrin as someone with commitment issues just because he fears death and its impact on a relationship as opposed to Davrin as someone who understands the gravity and limitations that come from the status quo of the occupation he's chosen and understands that probably 90% of the time falling in love would only hurt your ability to perform. And it's not just confronting a relationship preference that has him so stressed out, it's a system he's built his entire adult life around.

[noona-clock]

Heart of the Ranch - Part 2

Genre: Cowboy!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff

Pairing: Namjoon x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2 | Words: 2,818

Once Namjoon left you to your own devices, you decided to walk around the ranch a bit more -- deliberately and avidly avoiding the cow pasture -- simply to dry your shoe off.

...Okay, and to get your wits about you. To settle down. To pull yourself together after that... that... well, after what had happened. You honestly weren't sure what to call it since Namjoon had really only hosed cow poop off your shoe. I guess an appropriate word would be 'encounter,' right?

You needed to pull yourself together after that encounter.

When you had pulled yourself together well enough and made your way up to your room, you were relieved to see your suitcase had been left by your bed. If you'd had to go to Emily's room and ask her for it, you were fairly sure you would've spilled everything that had just happened... and while you had pulled yourself together well enough, you didn't think you were ready to actually talk about it. At least, not without making it sound like the start of one of those corny, guilty pleasure television movies. Or the start of one of your beloved cowboy romance novels. Or a corny, guilty pleasure television movie based on one of your beloved cowboy romance novels.

As you unzipped your suitcase, you suddenly remembered the copper tub in the bathroom. A nice, hot bath sounded like just what you needed. Trish had texted you earlier about a group dinner here at the ranch in a few hours, and a nice, hot bath would be the perfect opportunity to get your thoughts in order.

Hopefully.

"Y/N, there you are!" Rachel grinned just a few seconds after you left your room to head down for dinner. Rachel was stepping through the doorway right across from you, so you returned her smile and reached your hand out so the two of you could walk downstairs together.

"Here I am!" you replied as you looped your arm through hers.

"I feel like I haven't even seen you since we got here," she pointed out, her tone indicating this was clearly a good thing. "I guess you're really taking this vacation seriously, huh?"

Obviously, you weren't going to tell her that you'd gone hunting for cell service immediately after getting out of the car.

Instead, you let out a soft sigh and said, "I mean, yeah, look at this place. It's hard not to be in vacation mode here, y'know? It's so remote and beautiful and different than back home."

Rachel inhaled, about to reply, but then you noticed she glanced over her shoulder before ducking her head close to yours. "Speaking of 'beautiful,'" she whispered. "Have you seen the guy who owns this place?"

You almost choked on a laugh because you certainly hadn't been expecting that!

"Yes, I have," you whispered back. "I ran into him while I was --"

Oh, no. What had you told them you'd be doing after you got here instead of looking for a signal to check your work notifications?

That's right!

"Taking pictures. I actually kind of stepped in some cow poop, and he hosed my shoe off for me."

Rachel gasped softly. "Oh, my gosh. Did he really?"

You nodded, finding you were unable to say anything else without veering into Romance Novel territory.

"...What did he smell like?"

"Like outside and pine-scented soap," you answered immediately.

Okay, whoa.

First of all, why hadn't you questioned Rachel's curiosity? Asking what a stranger smelled like was kind of... odd.

Second of all, why had you answered without a moment's hesitation?

Third of all, why had you even been able to answer?! You hadn't even noticed what he'd smelled like! Or at least you thought you hadn't noticed!

And yet! You knew you'd answered truthfully. You could imagine the smell so perfectly in your mind, and you knew that if you found him, walked up to him, and took a big old whiff, outside and pine-scented soap would be exactly what he smelled like.

"Oooh," Rachel giggled. "I know it's kind of a weird thing to ask, but he's basically a cowboy, and who isn't curious about what a cowboy smells like, right?"

You pressed your lips together briefly as the two of you began a slow descent down the stairs then said, "I'm going to be honest, I didn't even realize I knew what he smelled like. I don't remember even noticing!"

"So what you're saying is that he's already found his way into your soul," she replied with a slow, knowing nod, her tone implying that what she'd just said was pure fact.

"I--"

"Hey, wait for me!" you heard Emily's voice call out behind you.

Both you and Rachel paused, waiting until Emily joined you before resuming your journey down.

"You're right on time," Rachel told Emily. "Y/N was just talking about the soul connection she made with the owner. Remember that hot cowboy who checked us in?"

Emily gasped, but you quickly interrupted. "Okay, that's not what we were talking about!" you corrected with a bemused laugh. "We didn't make a soul connection!"

"You know what he smells like," Rachel pointed out. "Without even realizing you did!"

"That's definitely a good sign of a soul connection," Emily agreed. "Wait, what happened? Where and when and how did this soul connection take place?"

"We don't have a soul connection!" you whisper-shouted, unable to keep the irritation out of your voice. And you'd almost reached the bottom of the stairs by this point, so you didn't want to risk being overheard. But you also didn't want to risk your friends being mad at you, so you added, "I'll tell you all about it after dinner."

As you expected, this satiated them, and the three of you headed toward the dining room where you assumed Trish and the other guests were already waiting.

When you'd read the words 'group dinner' in Trish's text earlier today, you'd been prepared to eat with other guests who were currently staying at the ranch.

So, imagine your surprise when you'd walked into the dining room to see Trish and only Trish sitting at the table. And once you, Emily, and Rachel sat down, a door connecting the dining room to the kitchen swung open, and Namjoon appeared carrying a tray with four plates.

"Where's everyone else?" you asked, making sure to keep your tone curious rather than judgmental.

"This is it!" Namjoon replied with a grin plastered on his lips.

You briefly made eye contact with him but couldn't stop yourself from looking away shyly. He was donning the same clothes as earlier but the cowboy hat was nowhere to be seen, revealing a rather luscious head of dark hair.

As he began to serve the plates to you and your friends, you realized exactly what he was doing -- serving the plates to you and your friends.

He was the owner of this place. Why was he serving dinner?

And why were there no other guests here? It wasn't exactly an off-season for vacation, and this place was gorgeous. The ranch should've been at max occupancy!

Something was off, and as dinner went on, you became more and more sure of it. Namjoon was seemingly the only employee working, at least during dinner! And a closer look around revealed slightly chipped paint and peeling wallpaper, worn floorboards, and door and window hardware that sorely needed to be replaced.

Don't get me wrong: you didn't feel unsafe staying here. It was perfectly clean and cozy.

But, still. It was pretty clear this ranch house was past its prime.

You were too nosy to let it go.

As soon as you finished your dessert, you pushed your chair away from the table and picked up your empty dish, along with anything else on the table your friends no longer needed. And with a 'Don't worry, trust me, I know what I'm doing' look, you made your way into the kitchen.

Namjoon was visibly startled when he heard you come through the door, turning his head swiftly to glance over his shoulder.

"Oh, no, there's no need for you --"

"It looks like you could use the help," you interrupted as you carried the dishes to the sink where he was currently up to his elbows in soapy water.

You could tell he wasn't pleased by your actions, but you couldn't help it. You'd noticed a problem, and you wanted to fix it.

"What's going on here?" you asked gently, though you were unable to keep a slightly suspicious tone out of your voice. You leaned against the counter, standing close enough to Namjoon to smell that pine-scented soap you'd unconsciously imprinted into your brain.

Namjoon's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What do you mean? You're really not supposed to be in here."

"Is it really just you? Do you do everything around here?"

He didn't answer you right away, and that told you everything you needed to know.

"No," he said after a few beats. And then he slid his gaze over to meet yours, his expression one of half-amusement, half-guilt. "I don't do the cooking."

"So, you do everything else?" you asked in disbelief. "All the cleaning, all the administrative tasks, all of the outside work?"

Namjoon let out a soft sigh before nodding.

And then you asked the obvious question: "Why?"

That made Namjoon stop and put down the plate he was washing. He turned toward you fully, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at you. "May I ask why you're asking?"

A chuckle fell out of your lips at his use of your own words against you.

"Because I'm an accountant, and I can spot a financial problem from a mile away," you explained.

Believe it or not, a blush tinged Namjoon's cheeks. A literal cowboy who hadn't flinched at washing off cow poop was now blushing because you'd obviously hit the nail on the head.

"Where do you keep the books?" you asked.

"I can't -- I mean, I really shouldn't --" he stammered.

"You would be doing me a huge favor," you assured him, stepping just a few inches closer and lowering your voice in case Trish was listening at the door. "My friends forced me to come here because they think I work too much, so unsurprisingly, my fingers are twitching to get ahold of something with numbers."

Namjoon took a deep, hesitating breath.

"I'm really good at my job. It probably won't even take long! I don't know what it is about my brain, but I can look at numbers and just --" You snapped your fingers to convey how quickly you could work.

Before you could say anything else, Namjoon laughed softly and said, "Okay, fine. But if I get in trouble with your friends, I'm charging you extra for the pillow chocolates."

"You leave chocolates on the pillows?!" you gasped.

"No, but I will especially for you, and I'll charge you for it."

The smile tugging at his lips was also making his eyes crinkle in the most adorable and attractive way. And it was then you noticed something about him that was always a dealbreaker for you -- but a 'dealbreaker' in the sense that, once you saw someone possessed this feature, you were a goner. Hook, line, and sinker.

Namjoon had dimples.

Thankfully, Namjoon said, "Let me just finish up here, and I'll show you. Meet me at the front desk in about twenty minutes?" because you were now so breathless, you weren't sure you could actually speak.

You nodded at him, letting out a positive 'mhm' before getting out of there as quickly as possible.

...And then you were almost immediately accosted by Trish, Emily, and Rachel.

Of course.

"What happened?"

"Why did you go in there?"

"And what about the cow poop?!"

Considering, the four of you were still right outside the kitchen, you shushed your friends and shooed them into another room -- a sitting room with plush armchairs and a roaring fire.

Once you were all settled, you took a deep breath.

"Okay, so," you began.

Trish, Rachel, and Emily all leaned forward in their chairs.

You tried not to leave out any detail, starting from when you got out of the car (yes, you admitted to looking for a cell signal to check your work notifications) and ending with agreeing to meet Namjoon at the front desk to look over the ranch's finances (yes, you even included the fact you'd noticed his dimples).

"Oh my god, you're going to fall in love," Emily breathed, her eyes wide and sparkling. "You're going to move here and help him get this place back to its former glory and live happily ever after."

"Emily!" you laughed, rolling your eyes. "Please. None of that is going to happen. I mean, hopefully, I can help a little, but... Definitely not the rest of it."

Trish pushed the cuff of her shirt back and checked her watch, eyebrows raised. "So, you've got about twelve minutes before you're supposed to meet him, which means we've got twelve minutes to come up with a plan."

"A plan?" you asked before either Emily or Rachel (or both) could say something. "A plan for what?"

"A plan for you to actually have fun on this vacation," she answered with a nod.

...How were you supposed to refute that? If you said 'no,' it would just be Grinch-y of you! And, sure, maybe you were a workaholic (you were definitely a workaholic), but you weren't a Grinch.

At least you hoped not.

So, you simply said, "All right, I'm all ears."

Luckily, Namjoon was already sitting at the front desk when you arrived -- if you'd had to wait for him, you surely would've snooped. Snooping was not part of The Plan, and while you still weren't fully convinced you needed The Plan, you didn't want to dismantle it in hour zero.

"Hey," you greeted as you approached, trying to ignore the flutterings in your heart and stomach when he looked up and half-grinned at you.

"Hey..." he replied with slight dread clutching his words. He stood from his chair and pulled it out just enough for you to take his place. "Be my guest."

And now your heart was fluttering for a totally different reason. Once you sat down and turned toward his computer, you were faced with spreadsheets and numbers and finances.

This is what made your life worth living!

...All right, objectively speaking, you could understand why your friends had made you take a vacation.

Anyway.

For the next hour, you pored over Namjoon's financial spreadsheets for the year, asking for more details and pointing out discrepancies along the way ("Why are you spending this much on plates and glasses?" "What can I say, I'm clumsy!"). You tried not to be too in-depth, but your accounting brain couldn't help it.

When you finally finished, you let out a short sigh, turned around to face him, and said in the most agreeable tone you could muster, "Whoever does your finances has no idea what they're doing."

Namjoon pressed his lips together. "...It's me," he admitted.

"...You don't have an actual accountant?"

He shook his head.

"Not even someone to do your taxes?"

He shook his head again.

"Namjoon," you scolded. "Why?! You're a business!"

"Because I can't afford it!" he rebutted.

"Yeah, you can't afford it because you don't know what you're doing!"

Truly, you were not trying to be mean. Unfortunately, you were just stating a fact!

Before he could argue or apologize, you said, "I would be absolutely happy to help you, but I can't do much with what little you have. The first problem we have to solve is revenue."

Namjoon opened his mouth to say something... but then he quickly closed it. His forehead wrinkled, and his lips tugged downward in confusion.

"...We have to solve a problem?"

"Yes, we," you answered, avoiding his gaze just a little bit. "I've already gotten involved, and I'll be here all week. I might as well see things through."

And also because the first part of The Plan was doing just this: coming up with a way to help Namjoon and BTS Ranch and personally following through with it. In the words of Emily, it would mean spending more time with Namjoon, and spending more time with Namjoon meant you'd fall in love faster.

You certainly didn't know about that, but... you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to spend more time with him. If only to see his dimples again.

(See them up close and personal, that is. You'd certainly see them in your dreams -- probably for the rest of your life!)

Namjoon's deep sigh broke into your thoughts, and your gaze wandered over to meet his again.

"Well, then" he murmured, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "What should we do?"

[kitts-mechanix]

Thank you for taking the time to write that! I'm not familiar with any of the continuities outside of G1 and TFOne but I'll try to follow along.

So for TFP, I do know that Starscream went rogue because he hated the Autobots but also Megatron. And the fact that the first thing Megatron did after coming back from the dead was beat up Starscream....I say this about every continuity but it's obvious that Starscream is his favourite punching bag. I can see why Megs gets frustrated with him, but it does NOT excuse him abusing Starscream. Although, to be totally fair here, it's not just Starscream. Megatron abuses the hell out of everyone (at least from what I've seen in G1). I mean, he's yelled at Soundwave for being a fool because his plan got foiled, and Soundwave has NEVER talked back to Megatron and is his most loyal comrade who does things without question or comment.

I've always wondered if Starscream would have a hard time actually trying to be a leader/function by himself considering Megatron basically controls everything, hence why he gets upset over Megatron's demise later on. It's complicated and I'd need to actually sit and watch the series to get a better idea but abusive relationships 100% screw you up like that. And I think the reason Starscream resorts to violence is because it makes him feel powerful. Because he always feels powerless under Megatron and he hates that feeling.

"And if people can be happy for redemption arc Meg, there's no Primus damned reason why anyone should be against a Starscream redemption."

THIS! And honestly, I think Starscream actually has a much better chance at being redeemed than Megatron, because regardless of what anyone else might say, I still say Megatron was much more evil than Starscream. And I'm dying on that hill!

I know Megatron got a redemption arc in IDW when he became an Autobot, and while I'd need to find and read the comic for context, it just felt....weird? like they were trying to appease the Meg fans who wanted a redemption arc for him? Granted, I know that all boiled down to Megatron hating what he had become, but still....

I heard Armada Starscream was probably the most complex and fleshed out version of the character in any continuity. I haven't watched Armada, but I heard that he used to be Megatron's most loyal warrior, then got betrayed by him and left for dead, and only turned on Megatron because he caught him admitting it.

"There's a lot of star getting beat up for shit that isn't his fault but told it is, and people constantly manipulating and gaslighting him and he questions his whole ass life but then even after leaving after a particularly wack incident....he expresses how he came to realize that nothing he ever did was ever enough."

Oh my gosh....THIS is what I'm talking about. Armada Starscream was dished out narcissistic abuse because Megs saw him as a scapegoat. No wonder the poor baby has a fractured psyche. And while I totally acknowledge that Starscream had it much, MUCH worse than me, as someone who's been gaslit and blamed for everything under the sun, I just get this!

Earthspark I haven't seen and I've honestly heard really mixed things about it. Starscream saying to Megatron, "Nowhere is safe if it's with YOU" is one of the most brutally honest lines I've heard. I haven't watched it, but there is a video on YT that breaks down Earthspark Starscream and talks about the PTSD symptoms he displays in the series. I hate that they made Star a villain for no good reason and threw away his trauma lore ugh. Give my baby a redemption arc already or something! And not a "bam bam he's okay now" make him work for it!

See, I still think Megatron is the more evil one who's done worse things than Starscream. I may be biased as a Starscream fangirl, but from what I've seen, 99.9% of the time Megatron (or another Decepticon) started it, and at least 50% of that time it was done to push Starscream's buttons and make him angry. Oh my gosh, I was about to mention that...."oOh bUt StArScReAm TrIeD tO kILl MeGaTrOn!" And look, I don't condone murder obviously, but considering Megatron has tried to kill Starscream before.....I understand why he snapped, like in that G1 episode where he blasted Megatron and, thinking he was dead, declared himself the new leader. Which then lead to him being thrown out of the Decepticons and enter the Combaticons, whom he treated like dirt. I have always wondered why Starscream allowed himself to follow Megatron (I assumed it was for power) but him having some form of respect for Megs is interesting....oh boy I need to do some deep diving on this.

But yes! Megatron's abuse likely created the part in Star that makes him lash out. And like I said I imagine he was always hot tempered (like Starscream, I get angry/irritated easily and I lash out. I'm not proud of it) but what Megatron did to him drove him over the edge. This behaviour was modelled to him, not just by Megs but by the other Decepticons. Also, they are in a war. Kill or be killed. Sympathy is dangerous and makes you weak. This is what's drilled into their brainboxes. And I imagine Starscream probably doesn't know/doesn't get the chance to let out his anger in a non-violent way.

"Star has done questionable things, and can be a jerk, but that doesn't mean it's his fault he endured what he did. It's only his fault for his /own/ actions of hurting someone else as a result. And that doesn't exempt someone from being able to become better and deserve better."

This! 👏He deserves another chance, he deserves happiness and a redemption. And if I have to write that for him myself, I'll damn well do it!

But really as someone who's dealt with some abuse like that, I just want to hug him and let him know he's loved 💔

I just had a huge realisation yesterday and I wanted to share this after going through some pretty horrible stuff over the weekend: Something I've always asked myself ever since getting into G1 Transformers was "why do you like Starscream so much even though he's a narcissistic bully? Why are you, someone who is a victim of narcissistic abuse, taking comfort in a narcissistic character?" Well, I think I finally figured it out. Because Starscream is also a victim of that very same abuse. I mean, he's beaten, called names, bullied, unappreciated, abused, and put through the wringer…and he internalised all that abuse because he knew no other way. He had no one to turn to, and the few bots who did support him, he treated like dirt. Once he had that freedom and power, he abused it and became the very thing that abused him. I have no doubt he was always self-centred, selfish, had a huge ego, etc. before all that but honestly? I think Megatron's abuse caused him to turn out the way he did. I could have turned out that way and it's a little scary, some of the parallels I'm drawing with him.

@ichbinmeltdown wrote a great analysis on Starscream that I want to share here:

"Megatron was abusive as hell to Starscream. He treated him horribly, and I legitimately almost cried a few times watching it. There's an episode called Starscream's Brigade that introduces the Combaticons, and I think that perfectly demonstrates the cycle of abuse. The entire world is against Starscream at pretty much every turn throughout the series, but none more so than Megatron. Every word out of his speech synthesizer to Starscream is to berate him, and he's constantly throwing him around, beating him, even ripping out his speech synthesizer in a scene from a previous episode (Hoist Goes Hollywood, IIRC). His own teammates don't like him, and even his brothers- Skywarp and Thundercracker, going off of the idea they're brothers- just... allow Megatron to abuse him. (Not to get into headcanons here, but I personally believe that Megatron's abuse fractured the Elite Trine's family dynamic. They are still brothers and love each other, but they're all too afraid of Megatron to really... stand up for each other as they did in the past.) And Starscream seemed to just snap in this episode. He treated the Combaticons poorly, and even when teaming up with Shockwave, he subjected him to a lot of the same ridicule and torment that Megatron put him through. He failed to realize Shockwave was the one of the only bots who would give him a chance- and unfortunately lashed out at him, which ruined his chances of Shockwave ever being a true friend and ally to him. Once Starscream had finally gotten a taste of power and not being under another bot's boot, he too became the very thing that he lived in fear of. And that really is how the cycle goes- when you're finally free from abuse, it can be tempting to overcompensate and take back all the power you were robbed of, at any cost whatsoever. Starscream, like D16 in Transformers One, snapped up this opportunity."

And the sad thing is, I've seen this in real life and I've internalised some of the abuse I've dealt with too. I'm not proud of it. Like the Seeker Trine, my own family dynamic has been fractured by similar abuse. I know there's traces of narcissism in my behaviour too, and I'm NOT proud of it. Maybe this is why I can forgive Starscream for being a narc, because I can see a little bit of my own personality/attitude/behaviour in him. Maybe it's because I know where it came from, I get why he acts that way and it's not just random and out of the blue. Maybe it's because--and I know this is a bold statement--I don't think he would do some of the stuff my own family did to me (blah blah blah he's a fictional character).

I didn't mean for this to turn into a long rant, so

TLDR: I finally figured out that part of the reason I love and relate to Starscream so much despite him internalising some of the abuse I went through, is because he was the victim of that same abuse.

[ranvwoop]

actually in relation to the previous post asking 4 haterisms. i really don't get why people talk say that like, "ohhh x character should be portrayed as human because that makes it more impactful". I've always kind of hated the implications of that. while non-human designs often get to have dehumanization made literal as a theme so it makes sense where this comes from, i just don't really think it holds up in reverse

[uncanny-tranny]

I think respecting trans people comes with a territory of like... just because many people will pass as cis doesn't mean that it's a great idea to use their passing as a way of legitimizing how absurd transphobia is

Transphobia isn't absurd because I "look like a [cis] man," it's because transphobia is fucking ridiculous. It would be ridiculous whether or not I passed or whether I look like a "conventional man." I use myself as an example, but ultimately, passing or appearing normative should never play into whether or not transphobia is bad.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

it doesnt need to be said but its genuinely so funny how at-the-hip charles and erik are in krakoa like they really had the green light- the OBLIGATION- to be as obnoxiously close to each other as possible and abused that right to the fullest extent