#What To Do When I Want My Ex Back Best Cool Tips

[loveleftmelikethis]

summer glowup guide ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

happy summer break!! it's time to rest and reset, and become the best version of yourself! here's a little guide and some tips ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

makeup/skincare:

♡ throw out any expired products

♡ clean any brushes or applicators

♡ reorganize your products

♡ remember to wear sunscreen everyday and reapply if you're going outside for more than an hour!

fashion:

♡ sort through your clothes and donate any you don't wear

♡ wear cute and comfy clothes that will keep you cool

♡ go shopping or thrifting as a fun activity

academics:

♡ remember to rest, and take it easy. this is your break after all!

♡ throw away old journals or papers you don't need

♡ empty and clean our your backpack, pencil bag, purses, etc.

♡ when test scores come back- be proud of yourself, and try to figure out any mistakes you made

♡ make a study schedule for any work or studying you want/need to do!

♡ don't procrastinate on studying if you have an exam in the fall, like the PSAT. you don't want to wait until the last minute!

♡ set goals for yourself- ex: five hours of studying a week, one module a day, etc.

health:

♡ drink lots of water!! as it heats up, staying hydrated is even more important

♡ eat at least three full meals a day, or at least snack regularly

♡ stay active! exercising at least three times a week is a good way to get started

♡ take your meds on time! -> this is so important. taking my antidepressants regularly has helped me feel SO much better and happier

♡ be patient and loving with yourself. your body is not going to change in a day, and you don't need a perfect beach body to look amazing and be worthy of love. what matters much more is that you are as healthy as you can be

hobbies:

♡ it's finally the time to do all the things you didn't have time to do during the school year!

♡ writing, drawing, painting, playing an instrument, crocheting, knitting, reading, making arts and crafts

♡ try to find stuff to do that gets you off of your phone/the internet

mindset:

♡ summer break is a time for resting, but it's also a chance for you to improve yourself! didn't like how you acted or the grades you got last year? you always have another chance!

♡ reflect on yourself, the things and people that make you happy, and the things that don't. it's not easy getting rid of toxicity and negativity- but being at peace, even if it's alone, is a wonderful feeling.

♡ be patient with yourself. you are not going to change in a day, and it takes a long time to form habits and get to where you want to be. but taking small steps and making changes every day is so important.

♡ be kind, be loving, and be the kind of person you want to be.

i love you all and i hope you have an amazing summer!! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[thatsdemko]

love affair- a.leclerc & c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: Arthur leclerc x gasly!fem!reader & Charles leclerc x gasly!fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors + mentions of nudity + mentions of oral (f receiving)

a/n: mwahahaha I love creating chaos 😌 also the lyrics are from 5sos! I am well aware none of these men(and the beautiful y/n) are not English! it’s just part of the lyrics! this has zero to do with my previous Arthur x gasly!reader fic! feedback is always appreciated xx

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

It started on a weekend in May

I was looking for attention, needed intervention

his beautiful green eyes are glued to your body as you move across the hot sand of the beach. you begged your brother to pull over so you could take a dip, cool off, you said.

maybe it was your plan to get him to look, you were never going to say. but you felt those eyes in the passenger seat, he watched your breasts bounce up and down as you jog up to the car, the water that’s left on your tan legs glisten in the sun.

“don’t get your wet bottoms on my seats!” Pierre calls out as you dance around the hot pavement, Charles throws his jacket over the leather before you slip in.

“thank you, Charles.” you reach behind the seats pressing a friendly kiss to your brothers best friends cheek, Pierre groans trying to wipe the ends of your wet hair off the leather.

he watches you collapse against the burning black leather seats. little does he know that in exactly six hours he’d be crammed up in the back eating you out. he’d be shoving his hard cock into your swollen pussy, his hand gripping your throat while you choke his name.

Before I knew it, it was serious

Dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car

TWELVE HOURS EARLIER

you think you’re the only one awake. you still tip toe around the creaking old floors, you’re in nothing but your brothers old alpha tauri shirt and a pair of an ex boyfriends boxers. when you make your way into the living room you half expect to see someone else awake.

“my my, is this a sight to see.” Charles smirks, chuckle escaping his lips. he’s never seen in anything other than a tight shirt and a pair of bottoms that are way too short. even when you were kids your style was far similar to what it is now.

“oh fuck off,” you mumble slipping next to him on the love seat, and he extends the blanket over into your lap. two of you now watching whatever old black and white movie was on.

“can’t sleep?” he asks, voice in a hushed tone watching your body settle into the seats, thigh quickly brushing his before you pulled away. he can’t help but feel the nervousness scatter his stomach.

“not with my brother snoring in the other room.” you roll your eyes, as much as you love Pierre, his nostrils were the death of you every time you take this summer trip.

“why don’t you sleep in my room? Arthur doesn’t snore. we can swap beds.” he suggests, and you almost laugh knowing he doesn’t want to spend his nights in your pink and white wallpapered bedroom. as much as you know he’s in touch with his feminine side, you’re sure he won’t last the night with the pink colors mocking him.

“that or we could just piss Arthur off, have Pierre sleep in your room.” you suggest and he nods. the silence and crackling of the old film are what occupies the air, it’s almost unfamiliar to you both. this room was always full of laughter and joy, you hate hearing it so dead.

“why don’t you just sleep in my bed with me?” he’s half serious, the sleep deprivation was doing most of his talking right now. when he looks you in the eyes he doesn’t expect you to say yes, but you do. now you’re wrapped in his white linen sheets and the cool breeze from his window blows into your face.

you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t wish this was something more. part of you woke up because you knew he was down there shirtless lounging around in nothing but his tiny shorts. you’re not sure if it’s your own sleep deprivation convincing you that you needed him, but will you be thankful in twenty four hours for what god brings you.

NOW

“sleep well?” Arthur watches you nearly stumble down the stairs into the living room. you’re practically limping, it’s obvious you either hurt yourself at the club or whoever left all those hickeys on your neck left you disoriented.

“something like that.” you wave him off heading into the kitchen where the smell of bacon, eggs, and toast are coming from. your mouth is watering you’re so hungry, you almost don’t even catch your brothers glare while you scarf down two plates of food.

“do I even want to know?” he asks, fork gesturing to the purple and yellow bruises that scatter your neck. he can’t even look at you, he’s disgusted by whoever the man was that left his marking. little does he know the man is his best friend who just entered the kitchen mumbling his late good mornings.

“where were you for our run? I knocked on your door five times.” Lorenzo shoves a plate of food into his brothers chest half caring that some of the egg fell on to the floor. he’s disappointed in his younger brothers lack of motivation and discipline.

“I overslept.” Charles lies. that’s partially true, but while Lorenzo was knocking on his door at five in the morning, you were giving him a good morning treat before his run. he claims it to have been the best way to wake up, it’s why he skipped the run.

Pierre nearly chokes on his dry toast when he sees the nail marks against his friends back. they are still fresh and bright red, he’s surprised Arthur didn’t say a single thing when he walked by.

“and somebody was worried about not getting something this trip.”

“oh wow,” Arthur barely touches one of the marks on his back, it earns a hiss from Charles as he tries to swat the younger man to move along, “these are going to leave quite the mark for awhile.”

you try to hide the red hue that’s floating across your face. you’re lucky all of them are too focused on the nail marks and the details of his wild night. you didn’t expect them to be so obvious, but the acrylics were still fresh from the other day and sharper than you expected them to be.

“would you see her again?” Lorenzo asks sliding into the chair next to Pierre. the question brought you a wave of nausea, you get up instantly once he sits down. there’s no way you’ll be able to hear the truth or the lie. either way you know you crossed a line, and seeing Charles in that setting once more wasn’t an option for you.

“yeah, I would.”

—

“you don’t own a single thing that doesn’t compliment you, huh?” he takes your hand in his allowing you to twirl and show off the tight body con dress.

you shrug, sheepish smile spreading across your lips, “you like it?” you’re not sure what’s provoked you to ask, but he just nods tongue licking his bottom lip watching you saunter on over to find a pair of high heels to match.

his eyes trail after your body, it’s like he’s never seen an ass and a pair of tits as good as yours. everything about you demanded his, hell anybody’s, attention. every inch of you screamed perfection, it’s impossible for a man to look away, and right now it’s impossible for him.

“what’s on your mind, leclerc?” you bend down to pick up your black high heels and move to a chair to slide them on. he’s right at the edge of the coffee table doing it for you instead. his fingers pull the little string through the hoops, finger tips grazing your legs.

“you.” he says, watching you slide your leg off his thigh and stand up adjusting the dress down your thighs. his eyes follow your body with lust, you swear you’ve never seen a man wrapped around your finger so quickly.

you’re smiling, he’s so pure, you think to yourself, as you use your index finger to tilt his chin upwards, “I’m thinking of you too, Arthur.” you bend down, head dipping to press your lips against his. they’re sweet and soft just like he imagined them to be, he practically moans at the delicacy.

he runs his hands up and down your body, you don’t mind that they linger a little too long on your ass, you think it’s adorable how excited he is. little does he know he’d have you sucking on his swollen cock in the public restroom of the bar. you’d be on your knees listening to him moan your name and later that evening he’d be asking if he was just as good as the guy from last night.

he’d then take you to that same car, and just like his brother, his hard cock would be entering your throbbing pussy each stroke full of passion and intimacy. you could melt at how careful the leclerc’s take their sexual activities.

you can’t tell him who’s better, there’s no clear winner. but god forbid you would never tell him the man before him was his own brother.

When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about

The picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain

I can't forget, my English love affair

[lotusunique]

The Engagement pt.3

Armando Aretas x Black Fem! Reader

Hey guys I know this took a little while to come out but like I said, nothing but the best for my readers!

With that being said, this has strong themes of toxic relationships and major smut! Enjoy 🌺💋

I also wanna give credit to @zari-0115 she helped me write the smut scene so W to her! She’s the best

You knew he’d be here. You were told he’d be here. You just didn’t realize how much it would actually hurt. You didn’t realize the air would start thinning around you when you saw his new girlfriend wrapped around him looking like they were the happiest couple on earth.

You feel a tight squeeze on your hand before realizing Armando was standing beside you.

“C’mon”,he says,taking your hand in his. You sift through the crowded party, hand in hand, before finally making it through the balconys sliding doors. You put your hands on your knees , and attempt to steady your breathing.

“Look up and count to ten”,Armando lifts your chin up before turning your head to look at the view in front of you. You stare out at the beautiful picture. The sunset and the ocean colliding in a way that’s so gorgeous with the pool infront of you glistening. It makes you wonder what you did to deserve to see this.

“One.Two.Three. Four. Five”, you start to count,feeling the tension and anxiety fade away. “There you go, inhala exhala”,he says rubbing your arms softly. “Thank you”,you smile up at him.

“What’s with the panic attack?”,Armando asks. “I don’t know. I saw my ex and my chest just started like caving in”, you explain trying not to let the tears hiding behind your eyes, out. You take a seat on the cool pavement

“That blonde tonto wit the bad hair cut?”, he asks with a disgusted look as he sits next to you.

“Unfortunately yes. I don’t even know why I dated him. But when someone manipulates your heart, it’s hard not to fall for the fake version of them”, you sigh.

“Oh look at me sounding like a Pinterest quote and shit”,you laugh. “What happened?”,he looks over to you. “Well he didn’t physically do anything to me. But i just realized it was like he was jealous of what I was doing with work and when I finally had my own place it was like he hated me for it.”,you start to explain.

Armando’s blood starts to boil the more you talk. “I don’t wanna talk your head off about old shit tho”,you shrug. “Im here to listen”,he says geniunely.

You give a slight nod,“It got to the point where he would ridicule me for everything and belittle me. And at some point I started believing he was right. And I got in this really low place..I wasn’t eating, couldn’t sleep, didn’t even show up to work for a week.”, you sigh getting war flashbacks from arguably the worst time of your life.

“Why did Kelly and Dorn invite him if he did all that to you?”,he asks. “They don’t know about anything that actually went down. They just know we didn’t work out. After everything I still wanted to protect his image.”,you say fidgeting with your finger tips .

Armando grabs your hand, “promise me something”. You raise an eyebrow. “Promise you’ll never let anyone give you anything less than what you deserve”. He looks into your eyes, waiting for you to promise.

“I promise”,you nod. “And don’t let that dickhead fuck this party up for you okay.”,he says rubbing the palm of your hand with his thumb.

“Thank you again Armando. Like for coming and helping me with all this.”,You look over at him. The world is calm for a moment and it seems like it’s only you and Armando.

“I don’t know if this is dumb to tell you or not. But Armando I think I -“

You’re cut off by Armando smashing his lips into yours. You lean into the kiss as he cups your face. You two get so deep into the kiss that at some point your back is on the pavement and he’s on top of you. Without coming up for air the two of you deepen the kiss. Within an instant Armando falls over into the pool, the splash getting you wet.

“Oh shit”,you let out a loud laugh. He resurfaces,wiping the water out of his eyes. “Oh this is funny to you?”,he smiles up at you. “Oh no of course not. It’s hillarious”, you cackle. “Yea yea now help me out”,he sticks his hand out for you. He grabs on hold of your hand before he smirks and pulls you in next to him.

You resurface in the water, “no the fuck you didnt”,you laugh. Everyone walks outside hearing the commotion. “What is going on here”,Kelly laughs.

“Um nothing”,you giggle. “Who cares just jump in”,Marcus says pushing past Mike to jump in the pool. “Man you better watch my suit,”, He says, dead serious by the look on his face.

The two of you climb out of the pool as everyone files back into the living room. You make your way to you guys’s room as your wet clothes cling to your bodies. “You wanna shower first?”, you ask turning to him. “Nah ladies first”, he smirks over at you . You head into the bathroom,starting up the shower, getting the temperature just right. You loved the build of the bathroom. There was a huge see through shower with beautiful deep brown brick walls and a huge granite sink.

You peek your head out the bathroom seeing Armando snatch off the wet t-shirt. It’s not like he didn’t look amazing with the shirt on but got damn if he didn’t look just as good with it off.

You get into the shower feeling the warm water and bubbles up your skin. A wide smirk spreads across your face as a bright idea pops into your head. “Hey Armando can you hand me my towel I left it on the bed”,You call out.

“Yea sure”,he says putting the towel over his shoulder and walking into the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. He walks in with his hand over his eyes. “Why don’t you move your hand and put them somewhere else”,you smile. He slowly removes his hand before looking upon your body and stepping into the shower with you.

He places soft kisses on your neck, tracing his hands up and down your skin. You let out soft moans as he scoops you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

In this moment you two were the only things that matter. He looks up at you, “Are you sure you wanna do this”,he looks into your deep brown eyes.

“Yes, I want you”,you say as a wide smile appears across your face. He smiles before kissing you so passionately.

He immediately starts fast, pounding into you with your back against the tile wall. He slides in you going deeper, until he hits your cervix causing you to yell out in pleasure.

Armando carries you to the bed, your legs still wrapped around his waist, before laying you down, towering over you he places soft kisses on your boobs, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He enters two fingers into you causing you to arch yourself upwards with every touch. Your toes curl as he massages your clit. Just when you’re close to finishing Armando removes his fingers. You look down at him, your eyes meeting his, you all but beg for him to give you your release. He smiles up at you mischievously while taking his fingers and putting it up to his mouth to taste you.

He then lifts you up and turns you over like you weigh nothing. He slips himself inside of you and pounds in and out repeatedly. You grab hold of the pillows to keep yourself up right, squirming at each jolt you can hardly keep your ass up. “Hold on Mi Amor” he says instructing you not to finish just yet. Right when he feels you pulsing under him he slips himself out… yet again. “Why are you teasing me?” You whine. Armando doesn’t answer he just flips you over and begins to go down on you, alternating between his tongue and fingers devouring you while he pleasures your nipples with his other hand. He finally lets you release not soon after he enters you again for him to then be finished.

The two of you plop down onto the soft satin sheets, heavy breathing and giggling in between. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that”,You smile over at him. “I’ve been waiting for that since the day I met you”,He says cupping the side of your face.

“You getting soft on me Aretas?”,you laugh. “You know ain’t shit bout me soft Mama”,He looks over at you with a sarcastic smirk. “Call me mama again and we gon have to may have to go run it back ”,You say before climbing on top of him, a mischievous smile across your face. “Let’s do it then mama”,he smirks up at you.

[curseddollfaye]

What ab toji with flexible reader 🤭

“i gotta lot of new tricks for ya, baby just saying I’m flexible…..”

⋆｡°✩ NSFW . 18 +

⋆｡°✩ let me know what you think 🫶🏽 😉 thank you so much for the request xx

- would be such a bastard about it

-“heh, think you could lift this leg more or does daddy have to do it for ya?” As he has you pressed down on your mattress, you’re folded in half damn near and all you can do is scoff

- “are you gonna keep talking or do I have to take care of myself- ahhh!” hes quick to shut you up as the tip of his girthy cock bullies your poor cunt.

- Of course he’s always trying to experiment with you, one time he had you bent over in front of him with your hand wrapped around your ankles as he took you from behind.

- your incessant whining only turning him on more as thick calloused hands gripped your waist. slamming you back on his thick length. Your ass bouncing and recoiling with every thrust. His eyes never left down to where you both were connected. A shiver up his spine when he felt your walls clench around him as he slowed down. “fuck…” he was about to bust all up inside of you if you keep throwing it back like you were.

- his all time favorite had to be whenever you rode him cowgirl. You do your usual tricks, ride him in reverse for a while. Hell you even start hitting the splits on it for real.

- but damn did it drive him CRAZY when you leaned all the way back exposing your entire chest to him and your gorgeous neck. His hand would immediately find its way to your exposed neck. His thumb applying just the right amount of pleasure.

- “dirty slut, you like it when I choke you? Answer me” he pulls you closer, his gaze is mean but you pout and nod. Pretty eyes batting at him how could he stay mad at you?

- “yes…“ you locked eyes with him and his first mistake was loosening his grip on you. Because as soon as he was caught off guard your lips slowly wrapped around his thumb.

- oh yeah hes fucked right off the bat.

- toji couldn’t even deny it when he said he was impressed

- the first time he met you you were doing all types of freak shit on top of him. Not to mention how you never complained when he bent you up like a pretzel

- because when you told him “you can press my leg down harder if you want it won’t hurt” you meant that shit and he never wanted to leave the heaven that was your pussy.

- he was pretty sure he was in love with you within the first three weeks of knowing you but of course he would never tell you that

- you already knew whenever he almost let out that he loved you when you had let him full Nelson you into the mattress after a nice dinner out, not to mention you had let him hit it raw

- you swore he almost passed out

- not to mention how much more fun a sex swing was . He was truly living his best life, and you were more than willing to indulge him. You’ve never had a ex fuck you so good

- well one, some white haired douche named gojo you dated in college

- he put it down on you too, but his big dick didn’t make up for his big hesd

-toji was a much more gentler lover if that was even hard to believe , he always checked up on you and made sure you were ok

- “are the ropes too right baby? “ you watched him step back stratching the back of his head. Poor thing was so excited to open the new package that arrived in a nice big Amazon prime box. Way too excited that he inhaled his dinner and was all too willing to dry dishes to get you upstairs and naked.

-“yes toji it feels fine baby, will you relax?”

- “are you sure, you’ll tell me if you feel uncomfortable right?”

- “duh, I’m not going to say yes if I didn’t feel safe” you feel a cool gust of air as the ac kicks on and your nipples harden.

- your man takes notice and a grin twitches on his lips.

- “Aww I see, my baby is ready for me huh?”

- “always ready for you “ you but your lip and spread your legs a little wider for him. “Do anything for you”

-“ yeah?” He steps close to you, your breath hitched as he towers over you while you lean back on the ropes. Sturdy enough to hold you up Toji made sure of it. His frame blocks the little soft illuminated light.

- god you loved his tall he was

- “yeah…”

- a few minutes later you found yourself being swung back and fourth on his cock. Toji grounding his heels against the carpeted bedroom floor. His rough palms holding onto the rope tightly as he moves you on his cock. As if your some sex doll for his pleasure. Your toes are curling and you can see how lost he is inside your pussy. His jaw is clenched and he looks like a mad man possessed.”

- your shoulder start to ache a little bit due to how your hands are blind behind you. But the pleasure outweighs that entirely.

-“mmmmm! M’gonna come, fuck!” you whine, tossing your head back. His heavy balls slapping against your skin. You feel the band in your stomach snap and your let out another loud moan of his name before your knees are shivering.

- he follows soon after with a loud groan. His hips stutter and he grabs into your tits for some type of stability. heavy thick cum coat your walls and as he rides out both your orgasms it spills out.

- toji was never letting you go

[mattslolita]

my goodies - m. sturniolo

in which ... a girl who was once jaded at a halloween party endures in a night of fun when she meets the cute guy with the vampire teeth — and he gives her a night of memories. ( matt x black!fem reader )

warnings ; smut, unprotected piv ( wrap it bitches! ), oral ( female receiving )

"𝒊 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

"girl, this party better be worth it," you say, crossing her arms across your chest as you step out the uber with your friend jaycee.

"girl, it will be!" jaycee grinned encouragingly, as she hooked her arm with yours. "tara invited us both, by the way."

"oh, word?" you say, a smirk on your face, "haven't seen my girl in a minute, i miss her!"

"she invited a lot of her friends, maybe you might make some new ones too girl!" jaycee tells you happily, as you both make your way towards the venue.

skeletons, zombies, fake webs and all kinds of halloween decorations littered the venue as you looked around, taking in the sight — you came dressed as a cheerleader from euphoria, and you could feel the skirt lowkey riding up your ass, causing you to tug down on it a bit as you both walked arm in arm.

when you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted with the smell of alcohol and faintly weed which intoxicated your senses. you were glad those were provided, because you had forgotten to bring your own after getting ready.

your brown skin glowed in the dimly lit venue underneath all the lights, and just as you were getting a headache tara's smile could be seen as she was approaching you both.

"jaycee! y/n!" tara says excitedly and as she's moving closer you can smell the faint pink whitney while she reaches her arms out towards you, "i'm so glad you guys made it!"

"glad to be here boo, i haven't seen you in a cool minute!" you tell the shorter girl as you pull her in for a hug. "now tell me why my ass is already getting a headache?"

"nuh uh, you're not gonna do that, y/n!" jaycee said with a small glare.

"she's right, there's no way you're leaving!" tara added with a shake of her head. she held a cup up towards you and you took with raised eyebrows. "drink this and have fun, babe!"

with a sigh you took the cup from tara's hand and peer in it before tipping the cup up and downing it one go, shaking your head a bit from the burning sensation.

jaycee giggled at your reaction, as tara dragged you both over to meet some of her friends — everyone you had met was really nice to you, some guys even looking to flirt with you at one point. you met tara's ex boyfriend jake who you thought was funny as shit, and his best friend johnnie who was emo but hey — you liked emo boys.

jaycee had eventually got dragged away by a cute brunette boy who wanted to dance with her, so you stood where the drinks were at and refilled, looking around with a bored expression.

when you turned around to get another cup, you felt a smooth breeze whip by you as hands were on your waist, causing you to turn around.

"sorry about that," a cute brunette man says to you, his hands on your waist as he walks to the side of you.

"you good," you say to him.

immediately you notice how attractive he was, his eyes and cheekbones being the thing that captured you first. he grins down at you, causing you to bite your lip as you tilt your head at him.

"i saw you over here, you look bored," he whispered to you, leaning down to your ear as he played with the hem of your skirt.

"yeah?" you answered him with a playful grin, "well my home girl is dancing with some guy and i don't wanna dance anymore."

"i'm matt," he introduced himself.

"y/n."

you both look at each other for what feels like an eternity — he goes to gently grab your waist again and gently rubs his thumb back and forth on the fabric of your skirt causing a wetness to form on your core as you stared up at him.

"you lookin' to have fun, sweetheart?" matt whispers in your ear, and you clench your legs in response to the action.

"fuck yes," you say back excitedly.

you quickly latch your hand onto his which he accepts gratefully, as you guide him through the crowd looking for an empty room — as you're passing both jaycee and tara catch a glimpse of you and jaycee grabs onto tara's waist and pretends to hit from behind as tara holds her hands and moves her butt on her, causing you to stick up your manicured middle finger at them in response.

finally reaching an empty room, matt almost shoves you inside and your back is immediately pressed against the door as he's pulled your neck to meet him in a heated, hungry kiss.

you instantly wrap your arms around his neck as both your tongues battle for dominance — matt's arms go down to hoist you up by your waist as his hands roughly latch onto your thighs.

"jump," he grunts, and you oblige, jumping into his arms and attacking his lips once more.

never breaking away from the greedy kiss, your lips entangle one another as matt turns and walks you towards the bed, laying you down on your back as he hovers over you.

"you know at first," he says, his hands rubbing up and down your sides as he places wet, open mouthed kisses to your neck, "i was thinking of how much i want my cock inside you."

"then i realized," he smirks, opening his mouth to reveal the pearly white vampire teeth he showcased — he ran his tongue over the sharp canines causing you to whimper as you pulled him down to lick over the teeth yourself.

"i need to taste you, angel."

another whimper escapes your mouth as you look up him at him with your doe eyes, causing his dick to twitch in his pants — he leaves more open mouthed kisses along your neck before signaling you to take off the top.

you discard it quickly along with your skirt, revealing your matching blue bra and lace panties, causing matt's mouth to salivate at the sight. "fuck, blue is my favorite color."

"you better not ruin it then, especially if you wanna see more of me," you grin at him with a wink, causing him to grip onto your thighs.

he's at the foot of the bed, and he brings your thighs up close to him — matt leaves slow, deliberate kisses along your thighs on both sides all whilst keeping eye contact with you. your core was now soaked beyond belief, all you wanted was for him to do something.

"matt p-please, i need you," you whine out, and he flashes you a taunting smile, those pointed teeth flashing in the dim moonlight.

"don't worry baby, i'm gonna take care of you," matt promises, his hands digging into your brown flesh softly.

he leans down in between your legs, his breath now fanning over your clothed pussy. he presses a kiss to your clothed core, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

"p-please..."

in a matter of seconds, matt pulled your panties down your ankles and threw them somewhere in the room, getting level with your pussy again — like a starved man, his hands grip onto your thighs once more as his tongue attaches to your throbbing bud, sucking slowly while keeping eye contact with you.

"oh, fuck!" you whimper out, your back arching as you grip the sheets beneath you.

and that's all it takes for matt to dive in, his nose on your clit as he laps you up feverishly, his tongue greedily delving into your delectable taste.

"fuck angel, you taste so damn good," he grunts out, his hips rutting into the mattress as his erection is very prominent.

matt continues nipping and sucking at your clit, and you're pretty sure at one point you could feel him spell his name with his tongue judging from the movements of his mouth. you're a moaning and whimpering mess, your pussy clenching as you feel your orgasm approaching quickly.

"matt i'm close," you manage to breathe out, your back somehow arched even more for him.

"yeah? you gonna cum on my face, angel?" matt says, "come on baby, give it to me."

the tightness in your stomach finally snaps, and you release all over matt's face as you let out a high-pitched moan — he's quick to lap up all your juices, licking his lips with a satisfied grin.

he comes back up and crashes his lips back onto yours, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. matt pulls away quickly to discard his pants and boxers, his large cock finally free from its confines as its dripping with precum.

you salivate at the sight before you — he's fucking huge. you hoped he would fit.

matt strokes his tip along your cunt bathing his cock in your juices, causing you to both moan at the feeling before he inches himself inside you slowly.

"fuck," you both moan at the same time, your hands immediately finding their way to his back.

"you're so fucking tight, shit," matt grunts, fully pushing inside you and bottoming out.

without giving you time to adjust to his size, he begins slamming into you at a relentless pace, causing the headboards in the room to creak.

"fuck matt, fuck!" you scream out, your back arched as his cock hits your sweet spot deliciously.

"you feel so fucking good baby," he grunts out, interlacing his hand with yours as he continues fucking into you.

"right there, baby!" you moan out, looking up at him through your lashes at his fucked out expression, his silver horse chain dangling above you.

matt's eyebrows creased and he felt his orgasm approaching as he watched drool begin to form at the creases of your mouth, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

"fucking you so good you're cock drunk, angel?" matt teases you, never letting up on his pace as he fucked you, "i'm gonna fuck my seed into you."

"y-yes matt, n-need it inside me," you blabbered out, your nails digging into his back, "m' so close..."

"fuck, i'm close too baby," matt moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he leans down to give you a open mouthed wet kiss, "cum for me, angel..."

with a pornographic moan of his name, for the second time your orgasm rippled through you as it spilled out of your pussy — soon after matt came, painting your walls white as he helped the both of you ride out your high.

he pulled out of you, but shoved two of his ringed fingers inside to keep his juices in there, grinning up at you as he did so.

"that was the best orgasm i've ever had," you breathed out as you fell beside each other.

"think you wanna let it happen more often?" matt asks you with a playful grin as he turns to look at you.

"definitely," you giggled, then your eyes widen and you shook your head. "fuck, i'm never gonna hear the end of it from jaycee and tara."

"good, you can let em know how good i fuck you," matt said, placing a kiss to your cheek as he gets up from the bed. "let me clean you up, angel."

( lilly's section 💌 )

AHHHH thank you all SAURRR much for 1.1k, i'm so grateful for each & every one of you 🫶 i love you all endlessly, & i'm so sorry this took long to publish😭

@muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @mattsivy ❤‍🩹

[valhallaas]

On My Own

listen here

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x female!reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: it’s a nightmare. it’s a memory. if only you could let it go. 

warnings: angst, major character death, stages of grief, mentions of pregnancy

a/n: um. i haven’t written anything in like, four months and i return with this. cool cool cool. angst isn’t my forte, so i did have this beta read. yeah. read and enjoy. would love the feedback!

“Tell me, when’s the last time someone told you they loved you?”

The question isn’t malicious. You mean no harm by it—only genuine curiosity. You’ve known Bradley Bradshaw, Rooster, since your earliest top gun days. You know everything there is to know about each other. You’re best friends, and you know that you’re both on the edge of teetering towards more.

He stares at you like a kicked puppy. Eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in surprise. Your heart hurts a little, because you know that he probably has never thought about it. Silently, you push off the kitchen counter, setting down your glass of wine. Your head tilts, taking slow steps towards him. Bradley flinches when your hand rests on his chest, fingers splayed out over his beating heart.

“Bradley,” you whisper.

“I don’t–” he can’t look at you, hands balled into fists.

“An ex-girlfriend maybe?” you say, slightly hopeful. A slight nagging feeling crawls up your spine. God, it’s been years. Please don’t let it be. “I know Phoenix gets emotional when she’s drunk, did she say it to you then?”

He shakes his head, stepping closer into you. Jesus, what did you do? You’ve never seen him like this before. It’s making you nervous. You never meant to put him on edge.

“Bradley,”

“It was my mom.” He finally whispers after a beat.

Your hand clings to his shirt, your heart breaking. It wasn’t a malicious question. You had no ill intent when you asked. Clearly you didn’t think it through, not really. The far away glaze to his eyes made you want to shove the words right back down your throat. How do you fix this? How could you fix this?

“The last person I told I love you to was you.”

You almost didn’t hear it. A frown taking up your face as your eyes meet his own. Bradley’s staring down at you, adoration slowly creeping over his face. His eyes have gone soft, something you’ve noticed they only do when he’s looking at you. Confusion sweeps over you. When the hell has he ever told you he loved you? Without a doubt you know that you’d say it back. Because you do. You love Bradley. You love him so much that it hurts sometimes.

The corner of his lips pick up, as if hearing your thoughts. “You’re always asleep, a little too drunk, or walking away.”

Why, why would he do that? Stepping closer, hands gripping his shirt, refusing to let him move an inch away from you. Your head tilts up, nose bumping against his. Is this what pushes you over the edge? A hidden confession brought to light.

“Were you afraid I wouldn’t say it back?”

“No,” he whispers, pulling you into him, body flush against his. “Wasn’t sure if I was ready–”

“–to hear someone else say it.” Bradley nods, resting his forehead against your own. “Are you ready now?”

He smiles, lips ghosting over yours. “I love you, sweet girl.”

You can’t help but smile back. You push up on your toes, lips meshing with his. A perfect fit. You melt against him. Hands trailing up his arms, over his shoulders before gipping the back of his neck. A quick taste before you’re pulling back, teeth digging into your bottom lip. Bradley’s eyes are blown wide, gaze fixed on your lips.

“I love you too, Bradley.”

His name is on the tip of your tongue. It echoes through you, a phantom pain that will always bring tears to your eyes. You’re not sure how long it’ll take before you can sleep in the middle of the bed, to touch his side. Your eyes squeeze shut, not wanting to see the perfectly made up side.

Not after the dream you had. Right, yeah. Dream. A nightmare. A memory.

It’s the first time you’ve slept in your bed, in your room. You’re facing his side, everything exactly how he left it. Half full bottle of water sitting next to a picture of his parents on the nightstand. A white hamper next to his closet, the left door barely open. You roll on to your back, eyes opening to stare up at the ceiling. I love you, sweet girl. The words roll over you, making your skin raise with gooseflesh, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

Fuck. Why did you think you could do this? No one else did. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, making you jump. You know you look like shit, not that it should come as a surprise to anybody. Slowly, you slink from the bed, keeping your eyes cast to the floor. You count each step, anything that’ll distract you.

It’s twenty-nine steps from your bed to the front door. You aren’t surprised when Jake and Natasha are standing there. Jake’s lips are pulled into a hard line, and Nat’s not even trying to hide her worry. Leaning back, closing the door, you check the clock hanging on the wall. 10:33 am. Swallowing, you face them, a raised brow.

“What’s–what uh, why are you here?”

“Your phone’s off.” Jake bites out, pushing past you and into the house.

You roll your eyes. “I’m not on suicide watch. I’ve been cleared.”

“Yeah, well, those fucking shrinks don’t know you like I do.”

Rubbing at your eyes, your temples, you head to the kitchen. Jake and Nat sit on either side of you. While he stares at you, annoyance gracing his features, Natasha can’t hide her worry. She picks at her cuticles, eyes flickering around the small space.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, hand pausing her fingers.

“It’s quiet here. Almost too quiet.”

You swallow thickly. You had noticed that too. No sports games playing on the television. The piano sits untouched—you refuse to look at it. It breaks your heart, because it’s only collecting dust now. You haven’t known this kind of quiet since before. You never thought there’d be an after. It’ll grow on you, you think. There is no other choice. Your hand pulls down your shirt, covering your stomach. Jake doesn’t miss the movement, eyes narrowing.

It’s been three months. You’ve been grounded for multiple reasons, despite being cleared. Penny had taken you in, nursed you back to health. It seems like everyone knows that you couldn’t be on your own. But you aren’t, not really. You’re finally comfortable with moving back into your shared space. It’s where you want to raise your child. A home that was filled with love and happiness. A home that was all you and Bradley.

“Sweetheart,” your eyes snap to Jake’s, that familiar green glistening with concern. “I made a promise. You will take care of yourself, I will force you if I have to.”

“I know.”

Your world was crumbling before your very eyes. Alarms blaring, lights flashing, smoke billowing all around. Rooster’s voice rang out in your head, giving you orders. When did you ever take orders from him—even if it was to save your life?  

“—now! This is not a dog fight you can win!”

You can hear his voice, but the words aren’t registering. Straight through one ear and out the other. Not like it matters. In only a few seconds, a blink of an eye, a gasp of your breath, Rooster is shot down.

Nothing else matters. Not even the enemy turning and firing at you.

You can’t hear anything. Not the roar of the enemy aircraft hovering over you. Not your heart beating desperately, trying to get out of the cage that is your ribs – desperate to find Bradley. Time doesn’t seem to be moving. Slowly your body comes screaming back to you. It hurts, mainly your left shoulder, but that isn’t going to fucking stop you. With every ounce of strength you have you get to your feet. Clenching your teeth to stop your scream, your helmet is pulled over your head. There’s no sign of blood, not that you believe, not that you can tell any different.

Rooster. Where the fuck is Rooster? Tilting your head up, eyes scanning the sky, you look for smoke. There it is. North. You start running. It hurts. God, it fucking hurts and you’ll pay for it later. If it saves him now though, it’s all worth it. He’s worth it.

You look like a goddamn vision running to him. His own living, breathing angel. Bradley’s gaze shifts. This isn’t right. No. No. He didn’t ever want to tell you. Scared that his love was a curse, a prophecy. It’s like he knew – he knew if he said it he’d end up following in his father’s footsteps. Bradley couldn’t do that to you.

“Bradley, Brad – look at me, baby. I got you.”

You’re ripping off everything, trying to stop the bleeding. He huffs out a garbled laugh, large hands holding on to your own. Teardrops hit your skin and you’re not sure whose they are.

“Bradley,”

There’s a faraway look in his eyes. He smiles. You know, you know. It’s the first time he’s seeing his parents in years, and you are not enough to keep him here.

Time moves quickly. Blood sticks to your skin. He stopped breathing a while ago. You aren’t leaving, you aren’t letting go. Smart pilot, he had his beacon. Is it the cold that numbs you? The silence? Or is it the secret you kept rolling like seasick butterflies in your stomach? Tearfilled eyes lift to meet familiar sea glass ones when his warm hands gently pry yours from Bradley’s. Hangman can’t hide his wince, seeing Rooster’s dog tags embedded into your palms from squeezing them so tight. Past him you see a chopper. They’ve come for you. They’ve come for the both of you.

“Salem,”

“I tried. I–I, I tried. I tried so hard, but it wasn't enough.”

The piano taunts you. Whispers your name, echoes in his voice. God, you miss his voice. Jake’s passed out on the couch, Natasha’s in the spare room. Nat stayed because Jake did. Jake stayed, well, because he cares, you guess. You don’t care about either of them at the moment. Your fingers itching to touch the keys. Natasha had mentioned earlier how quiet the house was. You hadn’t said anything, not wanting to lie.

Sinking onto the bench, your fingers hover over the keys. It’s two in the morning and you should be in bed. You are pregnant after all. But the little thing seems to find comfort here, same as you. They are their father’s child.

Softly, slowly, you plunk at the keys. Your voice is gentle, barely above a whisper. It’s etched in pain, an unrequited goodbye.

Don’t you know I’m no good for you? I’ve learned to lose, you can’t afford to Tore my shirt to stop you bleeding But nothing ever stops you leaving

The sound of floorboards creaking makes you pause. Tears spill down your cheeks at the sight of your friends watching you. They both rush you when you begin to sob. Chest aching, throat closing. You’ll be okay eventually. Because you know better than to believe that Bradley would’ve ever left you on your own.

[greetings-humans]

Hi! I saw your Suo martial art anaylisis and it is such an interesting analysis!!

I know Nothing™ about martial arts, so bear with me for a moment if I make any stupid questions 🥲 but I'm truly curious!!

Would it do any difference whether the arm or the elbow was grabbed (and/or stopped(?)) before one another 🤔? Ex.: the first manga panel, we see how Suo takes hold of Kanuma's elbow (?), would it be enough strength (withou fucking up your joints aksbakd) to swiftly divert the punch?

If it would, I wonder if the animation was trying to convey the movement more slowly and ended up chunky, but honestly, because the fist is the first thing in the manga panel, we can safely assume that was what happened first (in which case, rip joints).

Uhm, minimal spoilers (I am at 88 rn) it seems like Satoru Nii is learning about what not to do™ in martial arts because I don't think Suo has tried to pull that out since so... Maybe Satoru Nii didn't know or learned about it later and it was too late to change previous chapters (we creators have a vice with cool poses without thinking about realism aksbkadb) but implemented the changes later.

Anyways sorry for the ramble!!! Thank you for the analysis, it was very cool 🥰

omg hiii! i hope this hasn't been sitting in my asks for too long. now let's get started!

first of all, curiosity is like the best thing ever. it's wonderful, it's awesome, and im happy to help so don't worry about stupid questions!

"Would it do any difference whether the arm or the elbow was grabbed (and/or stopped(?)) before one another 🤔?"

well, what you grab first is usually what's closest, so not really? if you're doing it properly then it's fine. you don't really want to hold on to your opponent, tbh, unless you're a lot stronger and you know they can't break the hold, so you can/want to prove a point.

usually, the tactic is

1) deflect incoming hit by grabbing (the grabbing isn't mandatory, tho, you can simply deflect. ppl tend to grab when they want to stay close, usually to attack back, so keep that in mind)

2) hit as much as you're planning on

3) let go & depending on the context, run or wait for the opponent's next move. in a mock fight in a dojo, you don't really want to run for the hills, lmao, but in a street fight, i don't see why you shouldn't run like a bat out of hell.

(for reference, after this point there are minor plot spoilers for up until ep 4/ch 8 and spoilers suo's fighting style which you first see at ep 5/ch11-12)

"Ex.: the first manga panel, we see how Suo takes hold of Kanuma's elbow (?), would it be enough strength (withou fucking up your joints aksbakd) to swiftly divert the punch?"

i'm not really sure what panel you're talking about, cause suo largely deals with wrists and punches, not elbows/elbowing, especially in his fight with kanuma. but assuming suo at some point in his fight with kanuma grabbed kanuma's elbow here's my commentary.

scenario 1: kanuma starts with a punch, suo tries to get his elbow.

first of all, boooo!!! if someone is about to punch you, suo, darling, then how did you end up not deflecting the punch and going for the elbow? 0/10. if you have an incoming punch, your first thought is to deal with the incoming punch. don't make it hard on yourself. just slide to the side and knock away the punch with your forearm or your open palm. This doesn't really require any crazy amount of strength. Of course, the more built you are the easier it is, and if you have any issues with your muscles or nerves, it'll hurt more, but that's the basic disclaimer always (or at least, near-always) there in martial arts.

scenario 2: kanuma attempts to elbow suo, who goes for said elbow

okay, look, grabbing the point/tip of the elbow with his hand would hurt more than doing what I recommend and it's just so unnecessary. so assuming, that kanuma tried to punch suo and suo like deflected/ducked/moved away/wtv. and then kanuma used the punching arm that's extended to elbow suo. here's what suo should be doing right about then. he should be putting his hand(s) up to stop the elbow. his forearm(s) (blocking with forearms is super recommended, it's the greatest!) should end up on kanuma's bicep. and then suo should just side-step in a deflection (suo likes them, and so do I) and then keep the fight going (or alternatively, he could sucker punch kanuma in the face cause they would be very close in the sequence I'm describing!).**

"If it would, I wonder if the animation was trying to convey the movement more slowly and ended up chunky, but honestly, because the fist is the first thing in the manga panel, we can safely assume that was what happened first (in which case, rip joints)."

Now, since i'm not really sure what scene you're talking about i can't comment much here. What I can tell you is that, I agree in general. The animators are trying to make it look smooth, cool, and impressive in slow-mo, but without some research, they obviously ended up making a bunch of mistakes. The technique is easily seen in slow-mo, but they don't know the proper technique(s) so yeah, ofc it had me ranting lol.

"Uhm, minimal spoilers (I am at 88 rn) it seems like Satoru Nii is learning about what not to do™ in martial arts because I don't think Suo has tried to pull that out since so... Maybe Satoru Nii didn't know or learned about it later and it was too late to change previous chapters (we creators have a vice with cool poses without thinking about realism aksbkadb) but implemented the changes later."

Don't worry about spoilers, I'm at chapter 144, lol. So I can safely tell you that he doesn't get that much better, unfortunately😭😭😭

He avoids some super blatant mistakes like the palm thing with suo, from what I remember, but he's drawn other iffy moves. And like, it's not his fault that he doesn't know! I'd just appreciate it if he looked into martial arts a bit before making a whole-ass manga about it, from where I'm standing😭

I do love it that they look cool generally, like I'm a writer so I also write unrealistic stuff for the coolness factor. this just doesn't look cool to me when they're doing the weirdest stuff ever when fighting--

anyways,,,, sorry i ranted back at you!! i just wanted to address everything! hope this answers your questions!!

and hey hmu in the asks with thoughts on the manga, if you want! i'd love to talk about it with more people<33 (no pressure tho!!) [this stands for anyone rll lol]

**honorable mention to my bsf @fifteenth-entity who had to get up and help me choreograph a fake fight sequence to figure out the details of kanuma & suo's moves (noel: i have excellent elbows) (dee: he really does, super pointy, glad they weren't actually hitting me)

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Ok so weird thing: Puppet Zelda. I mean, it was pretty obvious as a player Imo? But what I don't get: The tears show her ONCE! and it's the scene right before Ganondorf gives Sonia a backbreaking back massage. It's alluded to that she (he) did some other weird stuff to mess up for Sonia and Rauru, and it's not expanded upon at all. I was so put off by that, because it feels like that would have been a big chance for ACTUAL character development for ALL the characters from the past. What did P-Z do? Where was Ganondorf? Was he hidden, or was he inside the castle? How did Sonia react to it? How did Rauru react to it? How did Sonia catch on? Why was it only Sonia and Zelda confronting P-Z? Why wasn't Rauru somewhere hidden as well? I doubt Rauru would have dismissed such a serious accusation. Sonia confronts P-Z, Zelda comes out, then Rauru lies in wait to check for extra danger. The time it takes for Rauru to arrive also kinda makes me think he wasn't that far away? P-Z is a cool concept, but I'm still just so baffled by the absolute "non-story" they built by alluding to her bullshit.

Okay so. Yeah. I completely, 100% agree, and I want to use the opportunity to air out a very particular complaint I have not really seen a lot of people talk about, because I just rewatched that scene and I am shocked all over again.

The teacup scene, after Ganondorf submits, is, in my opinion, horrendous. Like not because of secret Problematisms (though yes also this, we just saw them asking their enemies to kneel and the very next scene they're having a little tea party with cake between royals while armed guards protect them and it's not supposed to be a red flag and it's wild to me), but because the actual writing, at a craft level, reads like a first draft at best. There are three narrative information beats that matter in this entire scene:

The war has stopped

Zelda wants to help her ancestors and not only return to her own era (??? okay, she already did and the problems are technically over already as far as they know??? and it's not a choice she's making since she still can't master her powers and never learn to btw)

Rauru learns Link's name

I'd argue the only real important thing is that Rauru learns Link's name, and it could have been done in a much more interesting and dynamic way.

Instead the scene just goes on and on with lore dumps that never go anywhere, reiterations of the bond between Zelda and Sonia we had already established, dialogue that is... shockingly bad...

Actually, let's examine just one case: "Ah. I can see that you have absolute faith in him."

Like, just, general pro-tip: if you use "I can see that X" in dialogue and it's not ironic or used as de-escalation and just there to reiterate what we have just immediately established, cut that line. It's doing nothing, it's dead weight, it's just grinding the pace of a scene to a halt for no reason (unless you want it to be about stagnation, like I could see a David Lynch dinner scene where every character restate each other's actions by saying "I can see that you really like the gravy." over and over but it's not.... very applicable to more generic situations). This is writing 101, and the scene is full of these nothing sentences that go nowhere and establish nothing about the characters or the world and set up nothing and pay off nothing and it's driving me wild!

(also it does my least favorite thing in game writing aka the game praising the player character for an unreasonable amount of time, but I realize this is a pet peeve and not as important but it always makes me roll my eyes incredibly hard when it's not earned and it wasn't earned or useful here, the fact that the scene ends on everyone being like yaaay link!!! is... completely disconnected from the actual story happening in the past and shouldn't be the focus of the characters at that moment --it would be more powerful if Zelda used Link as an image of strength to inspire Rauru after Sonia's death later, for example)

It's a scene that completely undermines the tension built in the previous memory, makes the timeline of events confusing, and it leaves a ton of questions open, like: where the hell is Ganondorf? What is he doing? What did Rauru mean by "keeping him close", if he isn't actually close? Do they think he returned to the gerudo lands while he actually stayed hidden in their palace to do his Puppet Zelda shenanigans? I don't know! There is no way to know, because we're being told about teacups and how Link is amazing instead of anything relevant to the plot!

So yeah. Would have *gladly* done away with that teacup scene and focused more on a very tense moment of Sonia and Puppet Zelda where she acts very suspiciously and maybe aborts a first attempt at stealing the stone that goes nowhere, and this is when Sonia catches on that something is off? Honestly, I would also have killed for an actual scene of tension between Zelda and Ganondorf where they, like. Talk to each other. Instead of this actual current version of the story where they never do. And maybe this is how he realizes that she has a special connection with Sonia and it's how he tries to get her.

But yeah. Sorry, I kind of hijacked the ask into a "this damn teacup scene!!!" *shakes my first at clouds*, but I think it mirrors the thought that priorities were not given to the actual tension points laid down in the story. Puppet Zelda inherently calls upon ideas of fear of imposture, of abuse of power, of insecurity, of a twisted version of what Hyrule *could* be, which is so interesting and ripe with conflict and counterpoints.

I would have done unruly things for a Zelda arc where she is struggling to be a ruler and she's still very insecure and wrecked by guilt over the Calamity thing and feel disconnected from the land because of the whole "being locked 100 years away fighting a demon" thing and her daddy issues, and this is this insecurity that Ganondorf picks up on and preys on by trying to dismantle Hyrule using her very image as he plans his Big Comeback, and our role is to unite all of Hyrule against this weird nasty caricature of her created by an envious man who was furious to see his rule rejected and his rebellion considered less important than peace, then go to her acknowledging the immense and unjust sacrifice she made becoming a dragon and being like "hey Zelda we all love you and we will all fight for you because we made the choice to believe in the future you want to build" and it would have been soososo powerful and I would have perhaps shed a tear or two or ten. ;_;

[90s-2000s-barbie]

Hello, Megan! How are you doing? I was wondering if you have any tips for someone wanting to start a 90s/2000s collection like yours.

Where do you shop? How long did it take to accumulate your collection?

Last question might be weird but do you sleep in the room in the photos? The reason I ask is because I want to make my room look like that but I'm a little worried about what people will think...

Hi! This is a great questions and literally anyone can do it and affordable! So I’ve been collecting my whole life but I started going super into it in 2009. Not only do I collect nostalgia, I collect about anything I would see and like, antiques, records vintage clothes, toys, ex. What started my interest is I just saw something a couple antiques i wanted at goodwill and passed it up and I would never live it down. I will forever remember is and kick myself in the ass for it. I said that’s it, I’m not regretting leaving something so cool behind in fear of being judged.

Even though I started in 2009, I will admit, no one has to break bank to start collecting. The best place to start is goodwill, local thrift stores, flea markets, garage sales. I don’t pay much for anything I own in my collection. One time I thrifted an entire huge box full of vintage McDonald’s toys for $2! It’s very simple to do. Some garage sales, people were so tired of selling, they would tell me to have things for free! Like I’m doing them a favor getting rid of the items. lol u really don’t need to spend much.

I started collecting by going to my local goodwill every week and I’d find a cart FULL of 90’s -2000’s finds and I’d spend like max, $50 for my entire cart and I’d find the coolest stuff, toys, clothes, books, ex.

I leave no stones unturned. Some people hid things at goodwill and wait for the color tag to go on sale so look everywhere! I would go by myself and look for a few hours and pick out everything old, and decide at the end what I LOVE and put back things that I just don’t. I’d find cool 2000’s clothes hidden in the kids clothes! I found a vintage adult sized Powerpuff girls sweater in the kids! People hide stuff everywhere and workers also put things in wrong spots just cause it’s got cartoons on them. lol

So the photos of my room is right before I moved into my own house but YES. I slept in that room for years and everyone that walked in thought it was cool! Now I have childhood friends sending me photos of it and asking why my room is all over the internet! lol 😂 I had 2 beds so I could have my best friends over and have cool sleep overs, all my friends, guys and girls loved it and even my boyfriend loved it when we first started dating. My mom loved it cause it reminded her of when me and my sister were kids. She would come up and hang out with me and we would watch Britney and Backstreet Boys videos. I say, do things FOR YOU. If people aren’t supportive, then that’s there problem. As long as ur responsible and not harming anyone or anything, then there is nothing wrong with u doing what makes u happy! ❤️ If u have anything ur really into, the fashion or toys, ask any questions u want, fill free to ask. Something I always do with everything, is pick something up, look for a year. Sometimes older stuff didn’t always have a year on it. Now they always have years.

Also I don’t make YouTube videos anymore but I do have one thrift haul on my YouTube channel Nostalgic Studioz. Can kinda see what I found going to one goodwill! One store is all it takes. lol

Thanks so much for the ask! I love talking about my hobbies and I hope this helps u too! ❤️❤️

Here is one flea market haul and there is that box I spent 2 dollars on to the right. lol I bought all of this in one place, one day at the local flea market. Ohio’s biggest flea market is like 30 mins away and it’s my FAVORITE place in the world. It’s opened all year around and it’s like a giant garage sale.

[marvelmaniac715]

My first gift to Chucky is publishing extracts from his very own guide book on child rearing. It’s his perspective on the kids he’s encountered, including his own. I warn you, it’s not to everyone’s taste, even I winced when I read what he wanted me to publish on this blog, but then he reminded me that it’s Father’s Day and that he simply wanted to share his fatherly wisdom, so… here you go.

————————————————————-

Why hello, my name is Chucky, welcome to my childcare guide book. I have many years of experience being around kids, I even have two of my own. In all of my years, I’ve searched desperately for a book or some sort of video guide that could help me understand the young people in my life, but nothing I found ever related to my exact situation. This is the guide that I wish I’d had back in the 1980s. If you’re somehow seeing this Andy, I blame you for everything that’s gone wrong in my life.

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Modern Teenagers:

The most important thing I can teach you about the youth of today is that you have to relate to them on their level. One thing I like to do when I’m talking to a modern day teenager is reference Instagram. Remember how exciting it was when you were a kid and grownups would reference the Batman comic you’d just read? This is the modern day equivalent. Have I ever used the app? Not really, but I did talk to a teenager (thank you Junior, RIP) who assured me that Insta followers are a very valued commodity for today’s youth.

A lot of teenagers don’t actually like me. Can’t figure out why, I’m very cool. If you experience the same issue, I can recommend that you should not aim to traumatise teenagers unless you have a goal, because some of them have the strength of full grown adults along with raging hormones, it’s like fighting the Hulk. Word of advice - it’s usually frowned upon to try and offer a teenager drugs, and many teens will decline before murdering you in a brutal fashion.

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Young Kids:

Kids under the age of ten make better stooges, but if they have good parents, it’s harder to make them do what you want. Some  manipulation persuasion tactics that I’ve used in the past with young kids include:

Convincing a boy that I was sent by his deceased father to be his companion/playmate (successful for about two days, not recommended for the long term)

Convincing a girl that her mother was not her biological mother in order to fill that maternal role with my ex instead

Convincing another girl that I wanted to play a game called ‘Hide the Soul’ then possessing her body (RIP Alice Pierce)

Little kids are surprisingly easy to convince that your way is for the best, but this gift is to be used sparingly in order to avoid the risk of said kid getting wise to what’s happening and not following your leadership. Another top tip - if the child you are trying to manipulate persuade has protective older relatives that are surprisingly skilled with a variety of weapons and forms of combat, figure out at least five potential exits from the situation or else you will be killed.

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Introducing Your Biological Children To Your Interests:

As previously mentioned, I have two kids of my own. Can I tell you how old they are? …No, I’m not actually sure. I wanna say twenty? No… they were ‘born’ in 2004, so… nineteen at the most.

Anyway, my kids- twins, Glen and Glenda- are quite strange. The older one didn’t see the value of murder, and the younger one seemed kinda psychotic when I met them. But still, I tried to install a love of violence in my eldest child, because that’s how I bond with others.

What I did was I took my older child out hunting late at night when their mother was sleeping (‘recovering from addiction’, don’t ask). I even introduced the kid to a celebrity (before mercilessly killing them… oops, I did it again) as we made our way to the house of a guy I didn’t like. My intention was to have the kid watch, but they were clearly so inspired by the incident in the car that they decided to take matters into their own hands. I’ve never been more proud, and I was even prouder a day or so later when they used what I taught them to kill me.

Now, I’m not saying that this technique will work for everyone, but it was very effective for me. Of course, every child is different. I mean, take my little Glenda for example (not so little anymore really). They were in control for all of five minutes, but they used their limited time in control of the body to murder a woman with a flamethrower and then make an incredible joke about it. That’s the sort of talent that a kid has to be born with, whereas my older child Glen had to coaxed into killing, but when they did, it was absolutely glorious.

So my advice to you, dear reader, is to choose an interest of yours that you’re best at to focus on and pass on to your child. If they pick it up and have a talent for it, great! Your talent will live on. But if they don’t quite get it or like it, it’s still a much needed chance to bond with your child, especially if you don’t see them for years.

————————————————————-

Reaching Out To The Children You Haven’t Seen For Years As An Adult:

I have a lot of experience with this. Andy Barclay, Barbara and Nica Pierce as well as my own kids have all gone many years without seeing me, and when I reentered their lives, I did it in a big way. Murder attempts are a classic way to go, but what if you’re looking for henchmen assistants? Two words for you, my friends: compliments and persuasion. Young kids will believe almost anything you say (see above) and older kids who are starved for affection will do whatever you ask in the hopes of receiving more affection. It’s foolproof.

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Final Words:

Kids are interesting, complex tiny humans who don’t quite understand how the world works. I’m not an expert, but I did consult my childhood therapist whilst writing this, who told me the following:

‘Small children are ridiculously easy to mould and teenagers are ticking time bombs of anxiety. He or she who controls children controls the future.’

Do I think that’s a good takeaway from this guide book? Not quite, even I think that’s a tad too far. I just felt it was necessary to include it, because it’s… certainly a quote.

Before I leave you, I’d like to thank and acknowledge the following people:

Tiffany Valentine - the mother of my children 

Glen and Glenda Ray - the twins who made me a father

Andy Barclay - a person who taught me how irritating children can be

Nica Pierce - an interesting adversary and an even more interesting person to possess

Kyle Simpson - for teaching me to never underestimate a woman, especially a young one

Alice Pierce - a nice girl who went too soon

Junior Wheeler - a valuable source of information on modern teenagers

Jake Wheeler - same as Junior, also a promising artist

Caroline Cross - an interesting kid who shows great promise as a killer

I hope you enjoyed my book, hopefully, with the advice I provided, you can be as great as a parent as I am.

[oh-snapperss]

hey hi! i loved your work on cysm (have reread it twice and cried a lot) but i was wondering if you had any tips on writing etho and bdubs individually and how they interact with each other? working on my first project for them that's set in an alternate universe and i really want to get it right! thanks a lot hope you have a good day

hi anon!! thank you so much, i'm really glad that you liked cysm that much omg

hmmm ok i have a lot of thoughts so i'm gonna do my best to make this as comprehensible as possible:D

I'll start with Etho. One of the first things I noticed while writing CYSM and learning how to write Etho was his voice and his speech patterns, and how to transfer that onto a page since I didn't want to just be like "He spoke with a Canadian accent," and leave it at that when in my fic, Canada isn't really even a thing.

He has the signature "oh, snappers!" (hehe), he'll say "buh-bye!" and when he's exasperated or about to laugh or smile you can tell based on his tone. And he's got the "no-ho-ho-ho" he does when something goes wrong and his voice goes up a few octaves.

Depending on what content you're basing Etho off of, his personality also changes. If you're basing your writing off of his early days (so, Mindcrack and that era), I noticed that he's a lot quieter in general. If you're writing based on Hermitcraft, he's a lot more open.

A lot of people write Etho as cool and mysterious and slightly terrifying, and I think he can be depending on the au (e.g. @bananasofthorns' god au, where he's part of the void, you can read that au here and I adore those fics) but... a lot of the time Etho is just a guy doing a thing. He's ridiculously smart and entirely a wet rag.

In short, he's quieter, he's making fun of you without you realizing, he's got no idea what he's doing, and he's a genius.

And now I'll shut up about Etho and move on to Bdubs.

he's just a little guy! little skrunkly moss man!

Once again, depending on what era of content you're basing on, his personality would be slightly different. For the purposes of this, I'm gonna assume we're talking hermitcraft/traffic series and go from there.

god. where do I even start. Bdubs has a habit of giving his loyalty and love to anyone who will have him. We've seen him do it time and time again-with Scar in season seven, Cleo in third life, Ren in the current season as kingmaker, even Sausage now in Empires--Bdubs has this want to be wanted and given attention, and he'll swear himself to someone if that's what they can give him.

And he always goes back to Etho. At the end of it all, it's Etho Bdubs returns to.

He's loud, he cracks jokes, and I think he has a tendency to live in denial, especially when the end is near and everyone knows it. In canon, an example of this would be when it's the end of season eight and everyone else has left, but Bdubs is ignoring the giant rock hurtling towards him and filling the sky in favor of "claiming" all of the server as his own. In last life when he turns red the final time, he doesn't really accept he's red (ex. of this in my fics would be the moment in cysm when even Etho's accepted his fate, and Bdubs goes back into denial).

Bdubs will be incredibly kind while telling someone their build sucks. He's up front about things and a terrible liar.

The two together? oh god okay here we go. i'm going to have to put this post under a read more i think. whoops.

They can't take things seriously. It's rare they manage to have an entire conversation without skirting around anything deep and I think they leave a lot unsaid. It's easier to speak in actions then define it in words, and I think they've been doing that a long time.

Bdubs is the louder one, but Etho will drive him insane (it's his love language I think). They love each other but they'll never say so to each other, not really.

I think the best example of showing that I have isn't in cysm, but in I love you, I made you tea. They always leave SO much unsaid and it drives me INSANE.

Bdubs will brag and put on a bigger front than he actually has. Etho will go along with it, and tease him relentlessly.

Anything to keep the heavy topics at bay.

and now! moving on to love languages!

i think my sibling @oceans-swim worded it really well earlier so i'm gonna just say what they did SLDJKFSKLFJ

etho tends to show love to bdubs through acts of service, and bdubs shows love to etho with physical touch and words of affirmation?

another way i like to write them and affection--bdubs' love language is like. he loves attention and etho will give that to him, while etho is more reserved and bdubs will just love him anyways.

in a way i think sometimes that can actually maybe cause a problem because i think they both show love the same way they'd like to receive it but... that's just not what tends to happen? it really does go back to the lack of serious, non-joking communication. it's not an issue until you as a writer make it one LMAOOO

and uh. that's about all i got! maybe. hopefully. i really don't ever shut up about them. i hope that helps you! best of luck with your au!

[liiilyevans]

Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems

Or, Astoria accidently shreds things when she's unwell. (A big thanks to the @cruelsummer-ficfest mods for the luck of getting this song as a follow up to my last fic!)

Read on AO3

The last place Astoria wanted to be was on a boat in the middle of the Gulf of Venice with a pretentious group of snobs. The things she did for her sister. She adjusted her dark sunglasses as she glanced around at all the boats in the marina. The wind whipped salt into her face, and Astoria fanned herself trying to cool down. How was she supposed to find Blaise’s boat among all these monstrosities? 

Annoyed, she continued down the dock, her heels clicking loudly against the wood. If one thing could be said for Astoria Greengrass, it was that she had an outfit for every occasion, which was the only good thing that her mother had taught her. Today she wore high waisted white pants with a white bow tied around her waist and a bodysuit with orange flowers and spaghetti straps that tied into neat bows on her shoulders. The heels weren’t practical — at all — but she wanted these motherfuckers to know she was coming. 

She stopped in the middle of the dock again, huffing as she searched for the Zabini boat. Surely, it was as ostentatious as Blaise was. Then she spotted it farther down, the Serafina, named for his mother. One of the bigger boats in the harbor, the Serafina had three decks. The back of the first allowing access to the boat and hosting two sets of stairs that led to the second deck. There was also a shaded outdoor sitting area, located under the second-floor deck. Astoria could see polyester couches and lounge chairs, all bolted down no doubt. On the second deck, there was a crescent sofa with a table in the center. The top deck was a replica of the second deck, but with more lounge chairs, for when Pansy wanted to tan most likely. 

Astoria hoped she burned and looked like a beet root on her wedding day. 

As she marched up the boat ramp, she heard the conversation on the boat quiet down, then Theodore Nott’s head was poking over the railing. His brows were furrowed in confusion until he spotted her. He grinned. Astoria hid her own smile as she waltzed onto the deck. 

The first thing she saw was the astonished face of Pansy Parkinson. Since school, she had let her hair grow out to her shoulders, though that hadn’t helped to disguise her hooded eyes. Draco Malfoy was there as well, his blonde hair shining so brightly it nearly blinded her. Daph had mentioned he’d be here. Like Pansy, he looked none too pleased to see her, his eyes narrowed slightly. The only person who looked remotely happy right now was Theo as he leaned against the railing a smirk in place. 

“Lovely day for an outing,” Astoria commented as she strode past them toward the inside of the boat. 

Pansy finally found her voice. “What are you doing here?” 

Spinning on her heel, Astoria whipped her glasses off, anger eddying through her. The gall of these people never ceased to amaze her. Marching back to Pansy, she pointed the tip of her sunglasses in the older girl’s face. “You had the nerve to ask my sister to be in your wedding when you’re marrying her ex-boyfriend, and I will be damned if I’m going to sit back and watch you rub that in her face.” 

When she finished, Pansy was sputtering loudly. Satisfied, Astoria placed her glasses back on her face. She turned around and spotted Draco, his mouth agape, and Theo, his hand covering his mouth, no doubt hiding his laugh. 

Just as she was about to walk away again, Pansy hissed, “Where is your sister anyway?” 

Daphne wasn’t here yet then. Good. Best to put everyone in their places before she got here and became embarrassed by Astoria’s behavior. “She’s on her way.” 

With that, she turned and marched toward the inside of the boat, intending to find her sister’s room and have a nap before she had to deal with these imbeciles again. 

#

It was going to be a very long weekend, and not even the alcohol could numb the sea of sharp smiles and barbed words. The only thing the alcohol managed to do was dull the headache that Astoria had gotten from listening to Pansy drone on about her honeymoon plans — a trip to Bora Bora apparently. Astoria would have been content to remain in Daphne’s room if Theo hadn’t coaxed her out with the promise of food. That was clearly a mistake. At least Theo was keeping her entertained with his facial expressions as Pansy prattled on. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who thought the bride was ridiculous. 

Though she tried to stop herself, she couldn’t help sneaking glances at Draco. He was sitting across from her, his foot resting atop his opposite knee. She’d never admit it to anyone, but he looked nice in his light yellow shorts and blue and white checkered button-down. The sleeves weren’t rolled up, unlike Theo’s, and the cuffs buttoned. Odd considering it was a warm night. Pansy and her other bridesmaid, Tracey Davis, were standing next to Draco’s chair chatting away. If the way Draco was quickly sipping his wine was any indication, he was not enjoying the Bora Bora conversation either. 

They hadn’t spoken since their conversation at the Goyle ball a few months ago. Astoria never thought she’d be so intrigued by Draco Malfoy, but she was and she wanted to talk to him. However, he avoided her at all costs. Like right now, he wouldn’t even look at her, despite the fact that she’d been glancing over at him all night. 

“Are you trying to melt the side of his head with your eyes?” Theo asked quietly, taking a sip of his wine. 

Astoria sent him an annoyed look. “No, I’m not.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered. 

Carefully crossing her legs, Astoria leaned toward Theo. “Tell me something.” 

“I thought you didn’t gossip,” he said. 

Astoria took another sip of her wine, ignoring the jab. “Why is Draco Malfoy being so quiet? He’s barely said two words all evening.” 

“He’s terribly in love with the bride and doesn’t know how to tell her,” Theo said seriously. She might have believed him if his lips didn’t twitch upwards in a smirk. His sense of humor had always been her favorite thing about him. When they were young, Theo would say the most ridiculous things with the most serious face, and Astoria had always found it hilarious. 

“Really,” she said. “Be serious.” 

Theo shrugged. “Maybe he’s afraid you’re going to bite his head off.” 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because you almost took Pansy’s head off this afternoon?” 

Astoria couldn’t stop the smile that took form on her face. Pansy deserved every thorn she tossed in her side and more. Who in their right mind asked their fiancé’s ex to be in their wedding? Then again, who wanted their ex-boyfriend in their wedding? 

Apparently, an insecure Pansy Parkinson. 

To Draco’s credit, Astoria wasn’t sure that he and Pansy had even really dated. She had only heard rumors from Daphne that they had been together in their sixth year only for it to deteriorate in their seventh year. The rumors might have been just that — rumors — but Astoria didn’t really believe that considering how lecherous Pansy was. If that were the case, Draco seemed very unbothered by the whole affair, quietly sipping his wine and avoiding Astoria’s gaze. 

“Astoria, Pansy told me you’d be here.” 

Astoria glanced toward the edge of the boat and saw that the groom was finally making his appearance, his silhouette standing out harshly against the star flecked sky. Blaise Zabini was, by all standards, beautiful. He had the perfect facial structure, everything annoyingly symmetrical. Deep brown eyes sat perfectly in his face, and his nose was flat and sat just the right distance away from his mouth, which was constantly smirking. His dark skin stood out beautifully against the stars. But he had the personality of a viper and that completely ruined all his beauty. 

Blaise came to stand in front of her chair, then leaned his hand on the arm, trademark smirk in place. “How is your sister?” 

He knew better than to ask, the bastard. The arrogance in his voice coupled with the fact that her sister had yet to arrive caused Astoria’s ire to rush to the surface quicker than usual. Instead of answering, she stood up, making sure to press the tip of her heel into the top of Blaise’s shoe. His eyes widened as his breath hissed out through his teeth. Astoria didn’t move her foot until she was standing completely. 

“I think you should worry about yourself,” she said. “It looks like you’ve hurt your foot.” With that, she breezed past him, leaving a gaping Pansy and Tracey in her wake. After grabbing a bottle of Dom Pérignon off the drinks table, Astoria climbed the stairs to the second deck and didn’t stop until she’d reached the third and final deck. Finally, some peace and quiet to get rid of this headache. 

She sat down on the round table, not bothering with propriety. Raising the bottle to her lips, she took a long swig that her mother would have killed her for before flopping back on the table. The stars were beautiful tonight. She could see Ursa Major and Minor, and Cepheus and Cassiopeia next to him. She often wondered what it was like to be a star burning so bright that the whole world noticed you for a short time, knowing that one day soon all your fire would be gone and your light extinguished. Sometimes, she wondered if it was similar to how she felt. 

Quickly, she took another swig of champagne, trying to force her headache out of existence. After two more gulps, she realized that wasn’t working and sat up. Big mistake. The world started to spin. She closed her eyes, breathing in the salt of the ocean and feeling a light breeze brush against her skin. The sound of giggles reached her ears carried by the splashing of the ocean. Pansy and Tracey must have gotten over her outburst quickly, though she had no doubt that Blaise’s foot was still aching. That made her smile. 

A sudden feeling of loneliness swept over her as she listened to the waves crash against the boat. Though Theo might prefer her to everyone here, he wasn’t about to go out of his way to spend time with her. He was all about keeping his head down and surviving, like he had in the war. Where was Daphne? If she were here, they’d be silently communicating through shared looks, a secret language they had developed as children. Instead, she was stuck with a bunch of heinous idiots, one indifferent friend, and a mute pariah. 

Astoria kicked off her heels, messaging the arch of her foot. It was a shame the only way she could make herself taller was with heels. They were bloody useful weapons though. Taking another large sip of Dom Pérignon, she stared out over the faint lights of the marina. Her head was still pounding, and the alcohol couldn’t seem to chase it away. She spotted a man several boats down pulling his shirt off. As she took another swig from the bottle, she continued to watch him. A woman joined him on the deck of his boat wearing some long coverup. The man slid his arms around her into the coverup and, what was he doing? They weren’t planning to do something scandalous out in public, were they? 

Astoria was nosy as fuck, so she stood up quickly, only wobbling a little, much to her pride and astonishment, and climbed up onto the couch that was bolted into the deck next to the railing. The man had definitely grabbed her ass under that coverup. Squinting, Astoria leaned forward, her hand resting on the back of the couch for stability. She couldn’t see his other hand, but it had to be doing something as well. Faintly, she heard someone yelling Theo’s name, but she couldn’t be bothered with the menaces below right now. She thought she could make out the outline of the man’s hand sliding up the front of the girl’s cover up. Theo called her name; from rather close by, too, which was odd. Astoria chose to ignore him. The man was whispering to the woman now, no doubt muttering all sorts of obscenities. 

“Astoria!” 

She straightened up and turned to see what the ruckus was about. If Blaise was causing trouble again, she was going to take her high heel and ram it through his jugular. But it was only Theo approaching her slowly, both his hands in the air. Behind him standing near the stairs was Draco Malfoy, looking adorably rumbled by the wind, his grey eyes flicking between her and the railing. 

“Tori,” Theo said softly. “Come down from there, please.” 

Astoria glanced down at the couch then over the railing at the calm sea below. 

She sent Theo an annoyed look. “I’m not suicidal.” 

“No,” he agreed. “But you are very drunk.” 

Astoria rolled her eyes. As she was about to answer, she heard her name called from somewhere below. Glancing over the railing, she saw her sister on the boat ramp, her eyes blown wide as she stared up at her. Well, it was about fucking time. 

“Astoria!” Daphne called. “What are you doing here?”

Astoria held up the Dom Pérignon. “Drinking champagne.”

“Wh-” Daphne cut herself off and rested her head on her fingertips. “Nevermind. Just stay there. I’m coming up.” 

She turned back around to watch Theo and Draco watch her. They were both still clearly concerned, and Theo was biting his lip, a nervous tell of his. Astoria simply took another long drag from the bottle, which Draco didn’t seem to appreciate at all judging by the way he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. Holding eye contact with him, Astoria continued to drink from the bottle until her lungs were burning. His eyes were like needles dragging across her skin, and that thrilled her; anything to focus on other than the pounding in her head. 

Daphne appeared then, pushing past Draco, not a hair out of place. Her sister was always perfect like that, with her blonde hair pulled back into a slick ponytail and not a flyaway to be found. Her looks were in such contrast with Astoria’s, the dark to Daphne’s light. Her sister stepped past Theo and offered her a hand. 

“Will you please come down from there?” she asked. 

Astoria shrugged, ignored her hand, and jumped down, wobbling only a little. She was quite proud of that. 

“What took you so long to get here?” she asked. Without her heels on, she was reminded of how short she actually was. Theo and Draco would both tower over her if she stood close to them, and Daphne was a good three inches taller than her. 

“Mum wanted me to do some errands today,” Daphne said. “What in the world are you doing here?” 

“I wasn’t leaving you with these people for a week,” she said, gesturing towards Draco and the bottom deck. 

He looked highly offended. 

Daphne dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, Astoria.” 

Astoria simply patted her on the arm before marching toward the stairs. All this excitement had made her tired. As she passed Draco, he glared daggers into her back. 

#

“I love you,” Daphne said, but Astoria could hear the exasperation in her voice. 

Her only response was to retch loudly into the toilet. If Blaise heard her, she would never live this down. Wiping her mouth, she gulped down air that smelled like cleaner and vinegar. After a few moments nausea free, Astoria gently braced her hands on the toilet bowl. She felt Daphne’s warm hands grasp her elbow and guide her to her feet. The sharp sound of water hitting the porcelain sink did nothing to lessen the raging sea in Astoria’s head. She cupped her hands under the cool water and splashed some on her face. The freshness and chill of the water was a nice contrast to the ache behind her temples. When she looked up, her eyes were rimmed in purple and bloodshot; looked like today was going to require a lot of concealer. Her skin was pale, too, like she’d stolen powder from an Inferi. 

“What are you doing here, Astoria?” Daphne asked. Looking through the mirror, Astoria could see that her sister had her arms crossed over her chest and her blue eyes fixed on her brown ones. Never a good sign. 

“I told you last night,” she croaked. “I’m not leaving you here with people who clearly like to see you suffer.”

“I can take care of myself, Astoria.”

She loved her sister, but no, she couldn’t — not when it came to her feelings. As much as Daph hated to admit it, Blaise leaving her for Pansy still bothered her, which Astoria was well aware of, and she was sure that Pansy knew that, too. 

“Why are you even in this wedding then?” she asked, her brown eyes studying her sister’s bright blue ones through the mirror. Daphne broke first, dropping her gaze and wrapping her arms around herself. Astoria always had the stronger will of the two of them. 

“Daddy and Mr. Parkinson are close,” Daphne muttered. “You know that-”

Astoria spun around, ignoring the nausea that hit her like a Reductor Curse. “I love Daddy but fuck him.” She grabbed her sister’s hands. Nothing mattered more when her sister was upset, not even her father. Astoria would hold the sea back to stop her sister’s tears. “Let’s get off this boat and find some nice villa to piss off to for the rest of the weekend. We’ll drink mimosas and find cute Muggles to show us the city.” 

Daphne gently untangled her hands from Astoria’s, shaking her pretty blonde head. “I can’t, Astoria. I said I was going to be in this wedding, and I meant it.” Daph blew out a breath. “I know Pansy meant the invitation to be a bridesmaid as an insult, but I want to prove to everyone that I can handle this without breaking.” 

Astoria shook her head. It was cruel, but she didn’t know if Daphne could do that. She wasn’t going to let her crumble alone though. 

“Alright. If you want to stay, we’ll stay.” 

#

Astoria needed two seconds where she didn’t have to listen to the high-pitched squeal of Pansy Parkinson or see the smug smirk that would slither across Blaise’s face whenever his eyes slid to Daphne. If she hadn’t walked out of that restaurant a few minutes ago, she would have flown across the table and punched Blaise right in the windpipe. They’d gone to a high-class restaurant near the end of the marina, and those two had been insufferable all night. Daphne was holding up admirably, but Astoria had to fight the urge to fling her steak knife at them to shut them up. So, she’d stepped out for some air and to make sure that her concealer and foundation were still holding up. 

Digging in her clutch, she found her plastic bag of Mary Jane and hemp paper inside it. Quickly, she rolled herself a joint. She supposed she looked rather scandalous; that was certainly what her mother would say. In her pretty blue halter dress with the back cut out of it, balloon sleeves hiding her arms, and a skirt that barely hit her mid-thigh, rolling a joint of marijuana. How unseemly. With a snort, she put the joint in her mouth and lit it. At least her headache was gone today; no more pounding behind her eyes making her feel like her brain was going to be washed out of her head. 

“What are you doing, Greengrass?” 

Astoria’s head whipped around, a loose strand of hair smacking her face as Draco made his way towards her. He looked as finely dressed as he always did, in a white button down, brown slacks, and a black jacket, which wasn’t a bad idea as there was a chill coming off the water tonight. His hair wasn’t slicked back today, instead resting softly against his forehead. He looked halfway normal, and not like pureblood royalty. 

Astoria took a long drag before answering. “I can’t be in there right now.” 

Draco glanced behind him. They were a good distance away from the restaurant, not that Astoria would have minded if anyone heard her. They already knew she detested them. She took that moment to study Draco. He seemed relaxed, no bunched muscles or nervously glancing away from her. It was unlikely that he’d put their previous conversation behind him — Astoria certainly hadn’t — but he seemed willing to let that go for tonight. When he turned back around, Astoria was still staring, and her own eyes caught his grey ones. If she squinted, she could make out little specs of blue. He seemed peeved that he’d caught her staring, but Astoria just took another drag from her joint, holding eye contact the whole time. 

“So why did you come out here?” she finally asked. 

“Your sister wanted to make sure you were ok,” he said, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. 

“And she sent you?”

“I volunteered.” 

Astoria raised an eyebrow at that, and Draco only offered a shrug in response. When he stepped closer to her, Astoria held her ground, but he just walked to her side and rested his forearms on the railing. His gaze was fixed on the water, and he didn’t seem to be in a very talkative mood. That was alright. Astoria was sure she’d be able to coax a reaction out of him. 

“Are you just going to babysit me?” she asked. 

Draco sent her an annoyed look out of the corner of his eye. “No.” 

She took another drag of her joint before offering it to him. His eyes ran up and down her body suspiciously. That was fine. Astoria would be suspicious, too. She didn’t give things away for free, and the Mary Jane was her way of worming more of the truth from him. If alcohol persuaded him to open up before, surely this would mellow him out enough for her to wheedle more information out of him. 

Who knew she would be so interested in Draco Malfoy’s past? 

Finally, he took the joint from her, their fingertips brushing, and took a drag. Astoria let him keep it as she turned to lean against the railing too, close enough that their elbows brushed. After he took another hit, Draco offered the cigarette back to her. Gently, Astoria took it, rolling it between her fingertips. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how intimate sharing a cigarette was. His lips had just been wrapped around this hemp paper and if she took another drag, that would mean that, in some abstract way, their lips had touched. It was conflicting. She didn’t want to touch Draco Malfoy’s mouth, but the thought wasn’t wholly unpleasant either. Trying to decipher her emotions could be so confusing. 

So, Astoria took another drag, letting the smoke sting her lungs and relaxation sweep through her body when she exhaled. 

“Why are you here?” she asked when she finished her cigarette. 

Draco gave her an incredulous look. “I’m in the wedding.” 

“No, I meant, why are you in the wedding?” 

Astoria couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to be involved in Blaise and Pansy’s wedding, yet here they all were. 

“Because Blaise asked me to be?” Draco said it like a question. His eyes ran over her again, and Astoria shivered. 

“But he’s marrying your . . .” She glanced up and down at him. “What is Pansy to you exactly?” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Pansy was my occasional distraction from the real world. That’s all.” 

“So, you had sex with her to divert your mind from having to kill your headmaster? How original.” 

Draco’s head whipped toward her, and she thought he might berate her — tell her she was callous and cruel. Instead, he just let his eyes run over her, like he couldn’t believe that she’d said something so harsh. She expected some biting remark, was spoiling for one actually, but he was quiet, offering only a slight shake of his head. Then he pushed off the railing. 

“Let’s take a walk, Greengrass.” 

Astoria looked back at the restaurant. “But my sister-”

“Your sister can handle herself for a few hours,” Draco said. “But if you’d rather stay.” Then he shrugged and started toward the marina. 

Biting her lip, Astoria tried to decide whether to follow him or not. Daphne was certainly capable of holding off the vipers in that restaurant for a few hours, and she had Theo, who though he wouldn’t get involved, would offer her sympathy. There would be no one to siphon their poisonous words off Daphne. However, her sister made a point of telling her often throughout today that Astoria needn’t have come here in the first place, that she was capable of handling these snakes. She glanced at her watch. In the end, the temptation of Draco Malfoy proved to be too much. 

Hastily, Astoria bustled after him, careful not to catch her high heels in the cracks between the boards. When she reached his side, he didn’t stop or offer her any words, just kept walking along the dock. In moments where her feet ached from her heels, she remembered why she hated being short so much. It didn’t help that Draco was several inches taller than her and his stride much longer. Finally, they stopped near the end of the marina where there were very few boats docked. 

Astoria raised an eyebrow. “Is this where you lure young women to brutally murder them?” 

Draco scoffed. “Do you think about being brutally murdered often, Greengrass?” 

“Only the normal amount.” She stepped closer to him. “And you can call me Astoria. I did share my marijuana with you, after all.” 

He looked away from her, out toward the ocean, and what looked like a genuine smile swept over his face.

Astoria was entranced. 

“Alright. Astoria.” 

His eyes slid back to her as her name tumbled from his lips. Something fluttered softly in her chest for a brief moment. Before now, she hadn’t realized how beautiful his eyes were, how intricate the grays and blues were. It was mesmerizing. The fluttering was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving Astoria staring embarrassingly into the depths of Draco’s eyes. Nimbly, she reached down and pulled her high heels off. 

“What are you doing?” Draco asked. 

Astoria didn’t answer, simply dropped her shoes on the dock and then sat down on the edge of it. The waves were gently tapping against the wood, almost like a drumbeat. Though slightly chilly, the water had no bite to it. Astoria kicked some water away from her, fighting back the urge to giggle. She doubted Draco had ever done anything so simple as stick his feet in the ocean before. 

“Are you just going to stand there?” she asked. 

He huffed. “What is the point of this?” 

“There isn’t a point,” she said, looking up at him. He was studying her as if she were some exotic sea urchin. “It’s just for fun.” 

Turning away from him, she began to undo the twist her hair was in. As it fell below her shoulders, she heard Draco exhaling sharply and the sound of shoes scraping the dock. He sat down next to her, and Astoria didn’t say a word as she shook her hair out, the curls justling around her face. When he dropped his bare feet into the water, Draco hissed and she nudged him with her foot, the water eddying around them. 

“Do not splash me,” he warned darkly. 

Astoria couldn’t help it; she laughed. “You can’t say that and then expect me not to do it.” 

He glared at her. “If you splash me, I will shove you off this dock.”

“How very ungentlemanly of you,” she gasped, pressing her hand to her chest. 

“I never claimed to be a gentleman.” 

“I think your mother would be scandalized by that statement.” 

“You don’t know my mother.” 

“No, but I know mine, and I imagine they’re a lot alike with their standards of how one should behave in society.” 

She kicked the water then, thoughts of her mother causing anger to swirl in her like a monsoon. Her mother’s feelings for her were complicated, Astoria knew, because of her father and his insistence they try to have one more child after Daphne. Though the Greengrasses were hoping for a boy, that child had been Astoria. Her father had accepted his losses and, by all accounts, groomed her to be his heir and run the Greengrass estate when he was gone, surpassing Daphne completely. Her mother was not forgiving. She had never wanted Astoria and turned her nose up at her younger daughter whenever she got the chance with disparaging comments that cut Astoria like the winds of a gale. She shivered as she thought about it. 

“Here.” Out of the corner of her eye, Astoria watched Draco shrug out of his coat. He refused to look at her as he did so, and as he offered his coat, Astoria saw why. With his sleeves rolled up, his Dark Mark was on full display, the skull’s mouth open and the snake winding across his inner forearm. It was a dull grey color, not at all like the vivid black that Astoria had been told it was before the war. It looked like a simple tattoo now. Albeit an ugly one. 

Gently, she took the coat from his outstretched hand, careful not to brush his fingers again. When she pulled it on, she was enveloped by the scent of oak and vanilla. It was still warm, and Astoria was reminded that she had once again inadvertently touched Draco. The thought sent yet another rush through her chest, just as quick and strong as before. 

“Thank you,” she said, trying her best not to look at his mark. “Did you know that Pansy wanted her bridesmaids and Blaise’s groomsmen to alternate in hair color? Blonde, brunette, blonde, brunette.” 

Draco snorted. “As usual, Pansy got what she wanted.” 

“That’s why Daphne said she was in the wedding. Because of color coordination.” 

He still hadn’t looked at her, so Astoria pulled her eyes from his face. It was another clear night out and the stars were shining just as brightly as the night before, burning ever brighter towards their ends. She could see Cygnus and Cepheus. Ursa Minor was directly above them, and Ursa Major to the left of Minor. 

“I can see you,” Astoria said. 

“What?” Draco was finally looking at her again, confusion once again swimming across his face. 

Astoria pointed to the sky and the constellation he was named for, resting just above Ursa Minor. While he studied the stars, Astoria took the time to study him. He almost looked approachable, with his platinum blonde hair tousled by the wind and his sleeves rolled up. Eyes drawn to his forearm, Astoria couldn’t stop herself from studying it as well. When he first took the Dark Mark, it must have been so intricate. Even though it was faded, she could still make out some of those details, the chips in the skull, the scales of the snake. Unable to help herself, Astoria leaned closer to Draco. He jerked slightly, his brows rising high on his forehead. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded. 

“I’m not going to push you in,” she teased. 

When her fingers found his forearm, he sucked in a breath. 

“Does it hurt?” she asked as her fingers traced the outline of the mark. 

“No,” he breathed. “Not anymore.” 

“So, it’s like a scar?” 

“It’s more than a scar.” 

She thought he might pull away from her then, but he didn’t. Just stared at her. They were sharing the same breath as she continued to trace the outline, moving past the skull and onto the snake. The skin wasn’t raised like she expected. Instead, it was soft and smooth. Then goosebumps were rising under her fingers, and a smile tugged at Astoria’s lips. 

“Are you cold?” she asked. 

“What?” he said, his breath fanning against her face. 

“You’ve got goosebumps.” 

He did pull away from her then, mouth pressing into a thin line. Fine, then. Astoria looked back at the calm ocean, kicking her feet softly. Silence suited her just fine, and she had a feeling it would erode Draco’s will long before hers. She was right. 

“Most people are afraid or angry when they see it,” he whispered. Most likely why he’d kept it covered this weekend. 

“It’s going to take a lot more than a drawing of a snake to scare me, Draco.” And she meant that. She had never liked fear tactics, and this was no exception. If Voldemort was determined to use that mark to instill fear in people, then Astoria was determined to look at it and feel nothing at all. 

“We should go,” Draco finally said. He tugged his feet out of the water and stood up, leaving his trousers rolled up to his knees. “The others will be looking for us, especially your sister.” 

“They probably think I’ve strangled you,” Astoria said mildly. 

When he offered her his hand to stand, Astoria took it, his palm warm and rough against her own. The callouses weren’t extensive, but they were noticeable; probably earned from flying a broom if she had to guess. Without her heels, Astoria could just see over Draco’s shoulder. Merlin, it was annoying how everyone was taller than her. 

“Here,” she said, starting to take his coat off.

“Keep it,” he said. His eyes ran over her, and Astoria swore she saw them darken. “You’ll need it more than me.” 

She tucked the smell of oak and vanilla tighter around her. “Alright.” 

#

The wedding had gone off without a hitch, much to Astoria’s dismay. Her sister looked beautiful despite the ugly sage dress that Pansy had forced her into. Daphne always had that elegant grace about her, even when she was dressed in unflattering clothing. Astoria, on the other hand, had wanted to wear black, but Daphne had been horrified at the thought. So, she’d settled on a fitted silver number that would allow her to brood at the back of the party unnoticed while she nursed yet another headache. If her parents weren’t in attendance, she would have rested her sweaty glass of champagne against her forehead in hopes of some relief. As it was, the alcohol was doing very little to numb her. 

The chair next to her scraped against the floor, and she saw Draco taking a seat next to her, looking as put together as always in his own wedding attire. 

“Greengrass,” he said. 

“Astoria,” she gently corrected him.

“Astoria,” he said. It was soft, like the sea caressing the beach at low tide. It sent a chill up her spine though she refused to admit it. Instead, she took another sip of champagne. 

“Has the new Mrs. Zabini finally let you free of your groomsmen responsibilities?” 

Draco shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll want us for something later. Your sister was over by the dance floor a moment ago.” 

Astoria snorted. “My sister is probably heading for the bar, so the next time you see her, she’ll be tripping over her own feet.”

And honestly, good for her. She’d put up with Pansy’s bullshit for two straight days. She deserved the best cabernet that the Zabinis had. 

The music overtook them, Astoria trying hard to ignore her headache and Draco sitting silently next to her. She realized that she had an ally now, someone to sit in dark corners with and pass the time during the pureblood social season. It might have been the only positive outcome from this weekend. 

“Would you like to dance?” 

Astoria’s head whipped toward Draco. His grey eyes were intent, and his bottom lip was sucked between his teeth. Surely, she’d heard wrong. No one ever wanted to dance with her during these events. That was always Daphne’s place, the center of attention waltzing around the ballroom floor. Her place had always been in the corner, with her outspokenness and her ‘radical’ opinions. 

“What?” she said. 

“I thought you might like the opportunity to walk off some of the alcohol you’ve consumed.” He was leaning back in his chair now and picking at his nails. “Unless you think you’re too drunk to keep up.”

“I can keep up.” Astoria sat her glass on the table roughly. “And I am not drunk.” 

She stood up, wobbling only slightly, and noticed the hint of a smirk on Draco’s face. Annoyance washed over her. Snatching his left hand, she marched toward the dance floor, trying to ignore the tempestuous heat in her stomach that had nothing to do with the alcohol she’d consumed. When they reached the dance floor, Astoria turned to face Draco and noticed the mischief rippling through his grey eyes for the first time. Her breath rushed from her lungs as he slid his hand around her shoulder and stepped entirely too close to her body. 

They were going to be talked about after tonight if he wasn’t careful. Her, the social outcast of their high society who sat in dark corners brooding, and him, the formerly perfect pureblood prince who had fallen from grace when his master had been defeated. The old cynics would be relentless, but Astoria couldn’t bring herself to care as the warmth from Draco’s hand swept into her back. Another shiver ran through her. 

It was easy to fall into the waltz, muscle memory taking over from the torturous lessons her mother had put her through. Her instructor had carried a cane and would often whack her arms when they slumped from exhaustion. Draco was a good partner, easily guiding her through the steps with gentle pressure from his hands. 

Dancing with him was surprisingly intimate. Theo had asked her to dance once or twice, and it had never felt like this. Perhaps, she’d had too much alcohol after all. As Astoria tried to ignore the heat that burned her skin, Draco guided her easily around the floor, never once bringing her close to the other couple. It should have been freeing — trusting herself completely to another person — but it only left more room for Astoria to focus on the insistent ache in her skull. It was a heady mix, the warmth from Draco causing her stomach to roil and the ache in her head. 

When the song ended, they separated and clapped for the band along with the other guests. Silently, Draco offered his hand with the arch of a brow. The thunder in Astoria’s head had turned to a full-on gale that was threatening to drown her. She rested her palm in his, delighting in the slight roughness of his hand. This was a dangerous tempest. 

“Why did you ask me to dance?” she said because if she stayed silent for a moment longer, she was going to combust from the storm inside herself. 

Draco furrowed his brow. “Because I wanted to.”

“And you always get what you want?” 

His arm tightened around her. “Mostly, yes.” 

It was arrogant and exactly what she thought he would say, but it still pulled a smile from her, as she tried to fight off the nausea that was quickly rising to the surface with her headache. 

When that song ended, Draco and Astoria were near the edge of the dance floor, and he didn’t release his hold on her to clap like he had moments before. Astoria barely noticed, her head feeling like it was about to burst from her skull. 

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked.

“What?” she said, gripping his shoulder a little tighter. 

“About talking to someone about the war?”

She was going to be sick all over his shoes, and the alcohol she’d consumed was going to burn more coming up than it had going down. 

“I need to find my sister,” she mumbled, her other hand finding his shoulder as well to steady herself. 

“What?” he said, his other hand resting gently on her waist. When had he moved them from her shoulders? “I don’t . . . Are you alright, Astoria? You’re very pale.” 

She knew she should have added another layer of foundation this morning. “I need to find my sister,” she said. Gently, she slid her hands down his arms and untangled his fingers from her dress. “I’m . . . so sorry.”

Then, she turned and hurried away from him. She checked the bar first, but only found a slightly buzzed Theo, who raised his glass in salute to her. When she searched the tables, she was unable to find Daphne there either, only the bride and her other bridesmaid gossiping about Diane Carter. Where was she? Hastily, Astoria clicked through the hallway and into the larger dining room of the venue. Daphne wasn’t there either. She forced herself to stop and lean against the wall for a few moments. Deep breaths; otherwise, she’d throw up. 

Exiting the big dining room, she rushed toward the sitting room. There she located her sister talking with Mr. Parkinson. As soon as Daphne saw her, she sat her wine glass on the nearest available surface, panic obvious in her eyes. Astoria found herself being hauled out of the venue by the elbow and into the courtyard of the villa. The fresh air slapped her face, and she took several deep breaths. 

“How long have you been ill, Tori?” Daphne asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“All weekend,” Astoria muttered. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded. “Or go see a Healer? Like a sane person?” 

Astoria squeezed her eyes shut. She would not be sick. She would not be sick. “Because I wasn’t about to leave you in that den of-”

“Forget them, Tori,” Daphne said. “And I can take care of myself. I’ve told you that all weekend, and you’ve suffered all weekend.” When Astoria opened her eyes, she was hit with the tide of her sister’s anger. “And I’m too drunk to Apparate us anywhere, and you can’t Apparate.”

“The hospital is a few blocks down,” Astoria wheezed. “I checked before I Portkeyed in.” 

Daphne huffed in annoyance, and Astoria knew she would have done the same had their positions been reversed. Her sister still wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the venue and towards the hospital though. Daphne always was the better of the both of them. 

#

“Your condition is exceptionally rare, Ms. Greengrass. You’re quite lucky that your sister brought you in when she did. Another few hours and . . .” Healer Bianchi clicked his tongue. “Luckily, we were able to get all of your paperwork from St. Mungo’s transferred to us in time. Merlin knows what we would have done without Healer Holmes’ notes. The case could have been quite dire.” He flipped through his papers. “How long have you had this condition, Ms. Greengrass?” 

Astoria was sitting in a bleak hospital room, her arms crossed and fighting very hard not to throw her glass of water at this Healer’s head. “Since I was five.” 

“Fascinating.” 

Astoria was glad someone found her blood curse fascinating. She certainly did not, nor did she enjoy the constant trips to St. Mungo’s she had to make since she was a child. It had been a week since that dreadful wedding, and Astoria was still stuck in Italy. It was such a shame. The weather was beautiful and Venice was a lovely city and Astoria was stuck in this drab place with a macabre healer. 

“Glad I can keep you entertained,” she snapped. 

Healer Bianchi cleared his throat. “Your blood letting went well. We were able to get out all the contaminated blood, and replace it with new blood, though there was quite a lot of contaminated blood. You really should have come in sooner. You wouldn’t have had to stay in here for a week if you had.” Astoria rolled her eyes. “You’ll be in a bit of pain for a couple weeks, but you take cannabis sativa for that, don’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

“And how is that administered?” 

“I smoke it.” Astoria was pleased when a look of disapproval crossed the Healer’s face. 

“Well, I can make up a potion for you, if you like. Won’t take any time at all.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” 

Healer Bianchi sighed. “Well, you’re free to go then. Just keep up on your treatments and do come in to see a healer if you get any kind of chronic headaches, nausea, or shortness of breath.” 

Finally, the Healer disappeared, and Astoria turned to face Daphne. Her sister’s eyes were narrowed, and her arms were crossed over her chest. Her hair, which was usually styled, sat limply around her shoulders. There were dark circles under her eyes, too.

“I could kill you,” Daphne said. 

“But your life would be so dull without me,” Astoria said. 

“You could have died.” 

Astoria looked away from her. “I’m in danger of dying every day, Daph.”

“And you exasperate it.” 

“I am not living my life beholden to this disease,” she snapped, slamming her fists down onto the bed. Even doing just that zapped her of energy. Astoria took a deep breath. 

“I have a Portkey ready to take us home at three,” Daphne said softly. “Unless you’d rather stay here for a few days.” 

“No,” she said. “Let’s go home.” 

[linssikeittomies]

Pivot Points - Chapter 3: Crawling Forwards

Masterpost / AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

CW: depression, mentions of another person's self-harm

That's the last fucking time I set a deadline for myself. I was well on the way to finishing this chapter by end of December 2023, then mental health stuff happened and I couldn't even think of writing for a full month, then I lost inspiration and didn't write a word for another month and a half. I wouldn't say I'm happy with this chapter, especially the second half. But I've been editing, deleting, and rearranging scenes so much I lost track of the chronologial order. So this is the best I can do unless I keep polishing it for maybe ten years. The good thing is I can finally watch season 2! I was careful about avoiding spoilers because I'm absolutely the type that goes "Oh, now my fic isn't canon-compliant anymore..." and never writes another word. So now, if I end up fully abandoning this fic, I'll at least have finished the angst arc.

--

Ed’s feeding the chickens, dropping seeds of this and that on the floor. He’s being slow about it, annoying the chickens, making them complain with loud clucking, and if he weren’t so desperate for alone time, he’d would’ve been done with the task in minutes. He’s not sure how long it’s been, but he knows for a fact he should’ve been already finished his next task. No one will yell at him, but they’ll be disappointed and annoyed. Stede, too, though he’ll also be worried. He’d seen the mood Ed was in first thing in the morning, and hadn’t asked. Just been his wonderful, supporting self and offered a few words of sympathy, but didn’t try to talk about it.

Thing is, Ed does want to speak about it. Maybe. He’s not sure - he’d have to try first to know. It’s complicated - most things concerning Izzy are.

It’s the ring. Seeing it in its new place has thrown him into an unexpected loop. It’s been on Izzy’s cravat every single day for over 20 years now, it’s a sight older and more familiar than even the  Queen Anne’s Revenge. It had taken him a while to put two and two together - but the way Izzy wore it dutifully, ecstatically, every single day, eventually tipped him off. Ed still doesn’t know when Bellamy had the opportunity to sneak in with his last ditch effort to win Izzy back since he’d rather not hear Izzy’s starry-eyed accounts of their final tryst. He had hated the reminder of Izzy’s ex at first, and wanted few things more than to throw it into the sea, but eventually he grew to rather like the sight of the ring on Izzy’s cravat. Reminded everyone that Ed had won out in the end, definitively. Bellamy’s ring was there, as a reminder to everyone that he carried the memory of Bellamy with him - but not on his ring finger. Because he belonged to Ed. And as Ed’s feelings towards Izzy cooled over the years, the ring stopped raising strong emotions. It was just there, a pleasant reminder, but nothing more.

But now that it’s on his finger. Now it suddenly matters again. Matters that Izzy has retroactively chosen Bellamy in Ed’s stead. After first making him think he was letting go of all his past, starting completely fresh. Forgetting both Ed and Bellamy. And Ed was happy about that, liked that Izzy was able to move on. He honestly liked that. It gave him the freedom to be with Stede without guilt or danger.

So why does he want to hide from everyone? Why does he feel like shit again? Last night he’d been cocooning, then Stede came up with his plan on what to do with Izzy and he’d felt like the worst asshole in the world, until they workshopped the details and Ed felt ecstatic again, then worry and guilt snuck back in during the night when everything should've been clear and dealt with. It’s not fair on Stede, he knows, pining after someone he moved on from years ago.

It’s just... He’s so used to Iz being his. His little attack dog, his efficient first mate, his prized possession. All these years Izzy has been so devoted to Ed, and now suddenly having that reversal of loyalty shoved in his face... yeah. So he’s reeling. Because life has a lot of constants. Sun will rise, wars will be fought, Izzy will belong to you.

 “Ed?” the Swede calls from somewhere, Ed’s not sure where - the hold is a bit of a maze, with all its rooms and corridors. He briefly  considers not answering, not ready to stop hiding by a long shot, but he does have other work to do and it doesn’t feel fair to dump them on the others.

 “With the chickens!” Ed answers, throwing out the remaining feed without ceremony and the chickens pounce on the pile like birds of prey. Maybe that’s what they were supposed to be, at first, until God decided otherwise - Ed has seen them peck one of their own flock to death. Dormant predatory instincts coming to life at the sight of blood.

Something like Izzy, though not really, but lately every thought  will find the flimsiest excuses to find its way to Izzy. Probably will for a while. He suddenly longs for the days it used to be for good reasons.

 “Still?” the Swede asks in that innocently judgemental tone of his.

 “Yeah”, Ed mutters, too quiet for anyone but the chickens to hear. They must be as annoyed with him as he himself is. “Be up in a minute.”

 “Buttons is looking for you”, the Swede informs as he finally comes into view. He seems to take note of Ed’s sullen face, and maybe it scares him a little because this is what Ed used to look like before turning into the Kraken.

 “I’m fine”, Ed says, though he doesn’t mean that he’s fine. He’s sure the Swede understands. “I’ll go soon. Just need a minute.”

 “Should we have a talk circle?” the Swede asks carefully, and usually Ed would agree. But something about him is uncomfortable talking about this with anyone but possibly Stede.

 “Not yet. Need to sort things out a bit.”

The Swede looks at him with worry, which is understandable, because again, the Kraken. Then he nods uncertainly and leaves. Ed heaves a deep sigh and tries to gather himself. He doesn’t often have trouble pulling energy from his charismatic side, but it’s been harder since the whole - he’s hesitant to call it abandonment since Stede had come back, and wouldn’t have left it in the first place if that fucking asshole Badminton hadn’t fucked things up for all of them, but it sure as hell felt like abandonment at the time. And sometimes it still does, especially at night when the knee aches and won’t let him sleep.

And now this situation with Izzy. Ed is starting to think maybe he isn’t as good with people as he thought. But even then, his attempt to pull himself together isn’t totally futile, though it does leave a lot to be desired. He manages to form a mostly carefree demeanor, which would fall apart under some scrutiny.

Luckily Buttons gets the answer to his question in under a minute - double checking their heading and consulting the winds - and is then distracted by Olivia so he notices nothing. The rest are - more or less - working on their tasks and are equally oblivious, and pay no mind to Ed emerging from his eons-long task of feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs - shit, he forgot the eggs! He turns to go back under deck - -and sees Izzy walking up to him.

Ed really might die right there and then. Bellamy’s ring is still on Izzy’s finger, bandages around his neck, and Ed is responsible for both. Everything about Izzy’s face and body betrays discomfort that’s only trumped by dutifulness. For once in his life, Ed would’ve preferred Izzy to be less professional and just avoid him. Ed isn’t even a captain anymore! Technically he doesn’t have a rank, but practically he’s a deckhand so there isn’t any reason for Izzy to report to him anymore!

But life has a lot of constants. The sun will rise, wars will be fought, Izzy will worship you. He’ll idolize you until it makes you sick to your stomach, then he’ll say some mean things because he hates it when you’re just human, and then at the end of the day he’ll go back to being  your loyal first mate. Because he needs someone to worship, and if there’s no one worthy around, then he’ll decide  someone’s worthy. And then he won’t betray that person.

Until that person falls in love, then Izzy will sell that lover out to the English in a fit of religious rage, because his god won’t follow his rules of worship, because he’s a person instead of an infallible being, that’s when Izzy will betray you.

Ed had held him accountable for it, of course. He’d punished Izzy for it, turned himself into the worst possible version of whatever Izzy wanted him to be. It had felt cathartic, feeding his hatred and having his vengeance, for a while at least. For a few terrifying, exhausting, miserable weeks it had felt cathartic, and then once the steam had run out of Ed’s engines he’d been left feeling... very little. The love of his life was gone, his crew was too terrified of him to even look his way, even his long-time right hand man, ever loyal, who had never shied away from his touch, who had never had a problem chewing him out for doing something stupid, who had never feared him, even Izzy wouldn’t meet his eye and only meekly obeyed what few orders Ed bothered issuing. Between the rage-filled weeks of the Kraken and the complexly elated  return of Stede, Ed hadn’t really done much aside from waiting for death.

But even then, he hadn’t felt miserable enough to do it by his own hand. He couldn’t even imagine what Izzy was going through to... Fuck, how hadn’t he seen it?! Was he really so self-absorbed he couldn’t tell something was so monumentally wrong with his best friend? After all the times Izzy had noticed  something was wrong, even if his terrible brand of care couldn’t make Ed feel good, he’d at least fucking noticed. And now the one time their roles were reversed, Ed was completely oblivious!

You know who would’ve noticed? Fucking Bellamy. That fucking arrogant, pish-posh, brownnose pissant. The one who would’ve been so much better to Izzy. Who wouldn’t have dressed Izzy in his colors, wouldn’t have grown bored of him, wouldn’t have done a hundred other things, and would have done a hundred other things.

 “Edward.”

 “Yeah, hi. Morning. Or whatever.”

Actually it’s basically noon already, but Izzy doesn’t comment on it. “Get Bonnet off my back. He’s been getting in the way all day. He keeps trying to do my job and he’s fucking shit at it”, he complains and points with his thumb over his shoulder, towards the the forecastle where Stede is talking with Oluwande, but looking nervously toward Izzy. He must still be worried about how he’s faring.

 “Sorry if he’s being annoying.”

 “He’s been worse”, Izzy mutters in response, but it’s not heated. “Just tired of having to redo everything after he fucks it up.”

He doesn’t much sound like Izzy, he should’ve been foaming at the mouth and cursing his heart out about this bloody fucking useless piece of shit ruining his whole fucking life or something. Doesn’t much look like Izzy, either. He’s forgone the black leather in favor of a stained, brownish linen and  cotton. Ed knows it’s because leather isn’t something you can easily stretch in - even if Ed makes it look easy to dominantly and sexily lounge in his full leather get-up, it’s actually a fair feat. Up there, in the rigging... Splatting down all the way down because your pants won’t let you reach your foothold would cripple you, at the very least.

Wearing something loose and light only makes sense, but it still feels like a stab to the heart. His Izzy is supposed to wear black. Wear Ed’s colors.

Ed tries to make his tone light. “Where’d you get the clothes? Haven’t seen you in anything but black in ages.”

Clearly Izzy can tell something’s off with him, because he pauses before answering. “Bonnet’s hand-me-downs”, he claims then, but they look way too simple for Stede’s tastes. Not a ruffle or embroidered detail to be seen.

 “Sure they’re not from Lucius?” They really look more like his style. The wide pant leg would look right at home on the scribe.

 “Bonnet’s hand-me-downs via Spriggs”, Izzy insists for some reason. “Now shut up and let me get to work.”

 “Sure, sure, princess.” He says it purely to piss Izzy off, so he could be comforted by  the familiar version of him again, and immediately feels guilty about wanting him angry instead of pleased.

But wonder of all wonders, the discomfort on Izzy’s face melts to a crooked smirk. The man scoffs lightly, and responds in a vaguely playful tone.

 “Between the two of us, you’re the one with long hair tied with a ribbon, and wearing a pink bathrobe. Princess.”

It’s so out of the blue that Ed lets out a startled giggle. He hasn’t heard Izzy joking in a very, very long time. Least of all at Ed’s expense.

He should be happy about this new direction Izzy has taken. And he is, of course he’s happy Izzy is no longer thinking of killing himself, happy that he seems to have reverted to back to how he used to be all those years ago when they first met, more willing to go with the flow and with the occasional joke, but it just doesn’t feel like Izzy anymore. Because the Izzy who nagged about everything  and needed Edward to be his whole world had been with him for so long.

He tries hard to maintain the teasing tone, draining the rest from that well of charm, and has a feeling he’ll be left filling the well for a long time afterwards.

 “Touché. Want some help with your work?” Please say no please say no please say no. I don’t have the energy.

Izzy cocks an eyebrow at him. “Seriously? You took hours just to feed the chickens.With your help I wouldn’t be done until next year. You do your job and I’ll do mine”, he says with some pride, chest puffing a little at the thought of having a real task that he’s actually allowed to do. Ed had fully expected Izzy to take his new rank as an unacceptable demotion. And while he clearly wan’t happy about it, it’s weird that he isn't bitching about it. Ed's glad, of course, but it's just... weird.

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“At least it’ll no longer be my fault when no one else does their job and we sink”, Izzy shrugs, and then gets to his task, Stede’s eyes following him from the forecastle but his conversation with Oluwande seems to be too important to cut short. Izzy is clearly relieved at that.

The Izzy who stayed with Bellamy would probably be something like this. Someone who Ed just barely remembers anymore, someone who doesn’t talk like the Izzy who’s been by his side for 15 years, doesn’t act like the Izzy who he’s lived with for 20 years. That Izzy would be more free with his words, more free with his emotions. More like the Izzy Ed fell in love with three decades ago.

He sincerely hopes Izzy can find peace with his new, old self, even if he has a sneaking, paralyzing suspicion it can’t happen unless Ed is out of the picture.

He looks to Stede again. The feelings he raises in Ed are much simpler, easier, more free, and yet they are not stronger than what he felt towards Izzy back when they were young and vicious together, instead of old and disillusioned. They are very different, the two men. It must be a good thing, right?

This is making his stomach turn. He needs to act before he thinks something stupid. He goes up to Stede, who is slowly succeeding in running away from Oluwande. He’s almost two whole steps further than he was a minute ago. Soon he might actually be free.

Oluwande quiets down as Ed approaches. Maybe the conversation is really done, or maybe it was about something they don’t want Ed to hear. Doesn’t matter right now. He tries to come up with something clever, or smooth, or pretty much anything that isn’t the straight-up truth. But he’s exhausted, he can barely think of any words, let alone subtle distractions that will work out for the best for everyone. And after all, why shouldn’t he say it straight? Not talking plainly is what got them into this mess in the first place.

 “Izzy wants you to stop following him around. It’s annoying him.”

Stede is ashamed. “I could tell - it’s just that I’m still worried. I was trying to help.” He looks to Oluwande, who raises his hand in the universal don’t-drag-me-into-this gesture, but doesn’t walk away, either. Everyone on this ship is so damn nosy, but Ed is too tired to shoo him away.

 “You keep doing things wrong so he ends up having to fix it anyway.”

 “Yes, well - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bother. I just keep screwing things up -”

 “You can apologize once he cools off. We all know you didn’t mean anything bad, and you did your best.”

 “My best is still very bad”, Stede sniffles, but flashes a small, thankful smile. Apparently finding the right words runs even deeper in Ed than he thought.

 “You’re still learning. You’ll be a natural in no time.”

 “Well, since he doesn’t want me following him around, should I join you instead?” I’m sure I’d be useful at something.”

 “Think I really need to be alone for awhile. Maybe an hour. I’ll come get you once I’m ready.”

Ed goes to cocoon for a bit, and emerges again once he feels like his legs won’t give out on him. He actually does manage to finish all his work that day, although they all take at least three times longer than they should, and require some support from Stede. They exchange some vague words about Izzy, how he’s doing at his new job and how they feel about his new disposition. It actually does make Ed feel a little better. Maybe tomorrow they could talk a little more.

For about a week, things are quiet. Izzy sticks to his duties and his cabin, Ed and Stede talk a little more about how they feel about thew situation, the crew tries to get used to Izzy not yelling at them at every possible moment. He does still yell a few times, naturally, this is Izzy - but when Ed reminds him of their new rule of waiting five minutes before yelling, he falls in line. One time he even witnesses Izzy quieting himself, and feel prouder than he has in a long time.

The yelling is mostly aimed at Lucius, who is spending even more time with Izzy than he used to. It seems he’s overtaken the role of Izzy’s caregiver, something Stede is a little saddened by. He says that while he understands it’s what Izzy feels more comfortable with, it feels like Lucius has deliberately pushed him aside just when he was getting closer with Izzy. He also feels rejected by Izzy.

But it’s nothing they can’t deal with, and after Izzy allows Stede to change his bandages once more, both are visibly more relaxed around each other. They exchange words every now and then, and Ed catches Izzy looking softer than usual once or twice, and Stede looks at Izzy with quiet smiles - each time, a small stone drops in Ed’s stomach.

After one more week, Izzy starts talking with the crew. It starts as just a few words every now and then, mostly following Lucius’ lead, but soon he starts actually conversing. For their part, the crew is still wary with their words, but don’t discourage Izzy from joining them. Even Roach begrudgingly lets him be. Stede is proud of them both, he talks about them like a doting dad would about his kids - not that Ed knows much about that, but he imagines that’s how it looks. Stede praises Roach for his kindness, and also compliments Izzy for playing nice - almost in those words, and Izzy explodes. Curses him out for patronizing him, and then punches him for good measure, and Ed doesn’t step in. He lurks in the sidelines while Ivan and Lucius play mediator. He is so ashamed of it - he used to daydream of them becoming friends, and now he waits with bated breath for any rift between them. He barely moved a muscle when Izzy hit Stede, for fuck’s sake! He never wanted to be the reason Stede gets hurt, and there he is , feeling guilty about the bruise for all the wrong reasons. He feels even worse when Stede goes to apologize for his poor choice of words and make up with Izzy, and Ed follows him secretly, just in case. The matter is resolved peacefully, Izzy sounding pretty poisonous at the start even if Ed can’t make out the words, but the conversation ends with him sounding just slightly annoyed, as usual. Stede steps out of the cabin looking happy, but then notices Ed and starts chastising him for eavesdropping.

That’s the first night they go to bed angry since the week Stede came back.

On February 10th they run into a small merchant ship and decide to raid it. It doesn’t seem to be carrying anything too expensive since there isn’t another ship to escort it, and it only has two guns - there’s no need for an elaborate plan. They just arm up and board, all except Stede and Lucius - Stede because he still isn’t ready to take a direct part in raids without being a liability, and Lucius because he refuses to. Not that he’d be any use with a sword, should he change his mind. The two not-quite-combatants stay aboard the Revenge and rain down cover fire - Stede is still little good with a sword, but he’s making good progress with guns. While he aims and shoots, Lucius reloads, and their teamwork is an almost perfect harmony, shots banging an almost steady beat, like a coxswain.

Izzy is still recovering, but he refuses outright to stay on the Revenge. Ed can tell he’s been itching  for a chance to stab a fucker or two, so he eventually lets him come, provided he stay close to Ed so he’ll be easier to protect. Doesn’t stop Iz from breaking the promise pretty soon, but it shouldn’t be a problem - he’s slower than usual, a bit less cocksure, doing a lot more straight jabs instead of showy flourishes, but still very accurate and deadly. And a delight to witness in action - he’s that mix of intentional showing-off and natural fluidity that makes for a great show every time. He’s always looked good with a sword in hand, and great with said sword cutting some poor bastard open. Any crew he works with eventually notices it, and even if his current one hasn’t found much else to like about him, they do appreciate him cutting off that one guy’s hand clean off with one strike. Ed didn’t know a rapier could do that.

Soon enough, the merchant crew is either killed or thrown overboard, and it’s safe for Stede to come in. He makes the rounds in the hold with Ed and Iz, sorting through what they  find and estimating their worth. There’s not  a whole lot of loot, as Ed has assumed - some lumber, a few guns, but there is one surprisingly valuable crate in the form of coffee and tea, which should cover the cost of fixing some of the lanterns that were broken in the fight. Assuming Stede can bring himself to sell them once the time comes.

They’re not hurrying - Stede likes digging through boxes and sorting things, Ed likes watching him get adorably excited about the stuff he finds, and Iz likes writing things down and doesn't mind acting as their accountant for now. His mood had improved by leaps and bounds after the honest admiration his skills got from the crew.

That high mood might be why none of them immediately notice the one final enemy.

You see, every now and then, there’s someone either foolish or brave - or foolishly brave - enough on board to try to fight back. Those types rarely fare well, being among the first to attack, and thus also to fall.

This one though - he’s a lucky bastard. He’s just cowardly enough to hide when the battle starts, but just courageous enough to test his chances afterwards. He’s managed to cram himself behind a stack of crates, in a crevice that’s small enough to get overlooked. Ed only notices him as he lifts his arm through the crack.

To point a gun at Stede.

Ed only has enough time to feel his blood run cold, even though he’s right next to Stede, staring right at the guy. He doesn’t even have time to think of moving, maybe pulling Stede out of the way, possibly push himself between the two, before Iz has already stabbed the man through the wrist.

The sword would be through his neck if it wasn’t in such an awkward spot.

Stede has gone pale as a sheet and can only stare in frozen terror as Iz pulls the man out of his sniping spot and slashes his throat. All of them are sprayed with hot blood.

It’s been a fair while  since Ed has seen Iz covered in someone else’s blood - he’d forgotten what a good look it is on him. His nethers perk up as Iz tries to wipe his cheek clean, only managing to smear it worse. His wonderful  little attack dog.

 “You alright, captain?”

It isn’t directed at Ed.

Stede stammers, gaining back some color on his cheeks. Mostly green. Izzy scowls at him.

“Better get used to it. Not all of us are gentlemen”, he says pointedly, before sheathing his sword coolly. He takes a look at his blood soaked hands, then at the blood soaked notebook on the floor, huffs in annoyance, and walks off grumbling to himself. Ed wonders if he realizes his bandages are also soaked.

Stede shudders and stares at the corpse at his feet.

 “Well, that was - exhilarating. Quite something.”

 “Fuckin’ hot am I right?”

 “Ah - well. I could’ve done without the blood. But it was quite gallant.” Stede goes pale again and makes a gagging noise. “I think I’ll go sit down for a while.”

Right, Stede can be delicate about blood. Although Ed’s sure he could get over it if he saw Iz looking like that a few times more.

Ah. Not that Ed wants that. He would prefer Stede and Iz stay on platonic terms. You know. Horniness just makes you think weird thoughts.

 “Take all the time you need, love. But get on the Revenge, wouldn’t want any more nasty surprises.”

Lucius holds the bloodied notebook like it's made of snot.

 "Starting to regret having this good of an education", he states, looking helplessly at Pete, who doesn't spontaneously become literate.

Ed just shrugs. His words won't change anything, so he says nothing. He leaves it to all of Lucius' boyfriends to comfort him, and goes instead to see how his own is doing.

Stede's looking much better now that he's gotten to wipe himself down and switched to clean clothes, but he's still a bit pale. His hair is straight and damp, he must’ve washed it even though it barely got any blood in it.

 “You okay, love?” Ed asks, pressing a soft kiss to said hair.

 “I think so. Did you run into any more trouble?”

 “Nah. He was the only cockroach on board.”

Stede shudders. Either because of the near death experience or the cockroach, it’s not clear.

 "Need help with your hair?"

 "Oh, thank you! I should have the curler here - ah, yes, here you go."

He puts a scissors-looking contraption in Ed’s hand, and he looks at it dumbly. Why did he even ask? He knows nothing about doing hair! His own just does its thing naturally!

 "You could try wearing it straight for a change. I think it'd look nice on you", Ed says, discreetly fiddling with the curler, trying to figure out how the hell it’s supposed to work. And it's not a total lie anyway, he really does like it when Stede looks a little rugged. He should consider growing a stubble again.

 “Hmm. I suppose I could leave it like this for today. It’s already well into the afternoon.”

Hiding his sigh of relief Ed sets the curler down and instead grabs a comb and starts going through the strands, needlessly gently, needlessly slowly. He thinks back to Iz covered in blood. Imagines Stede in the same situation.

 "Was the blood hard to get off?"

 "Yes. You wouldn't think it dried that quickly." Stede shudders. "The coat is ruined. Don't think the shirt is salvageable, either."

 "You could save the coat, might come in handy. Makes for a pretty intimidating figure."

 "A gentleman doesn't wear clothes that are more stain than not", Stede protests.

Ed chuckles and leans down a little to press a kiss to Stede’s neck.

 “Ed! I just got clean!” Stede giggles.

 “Better make sure you don’t get dirty, then!”, Ed winks and lowers his hand to palm at Stede’s cock. He places more kisses on Stede’s neck, in all the places he likes. Stede needs little persuasion before he pulls Ed with him to the bed and draws Ed’s face up to smother him in hot kisses.

If there’s one thing Stede is good at, it’s kissing. He took to it with unbelievable speed, seemingly learning two new tricks in each one kiss, and he could leave Ed senseless in seconds.

He withdraws before he forgets they’re supposed to be quick and clean this time.

 “Let me suck you”, he breathes, voice husky and needy, hand already digging at the fly of Stede’s breeches.

 “Oh my”, Stede gasps, and his hands wander around, trying to find bare skin to hold onto. Ed dives in for one more kiss with so much tongue it makes him dizzy, and Stede’s fingers gripping his hair aren’t making things easier. Stede’s fly slips open, and Ed immediately snakes his hand inside, tugging the shirt out of his way, and finally he reaches his prize.

Stede’s moans are wonderful. Soft, sensual, insistent, as Ed fondles his cock, brushing his thumb across the head.

 “Remember to come inside”, Ed whispers in Stede’s ear, tone leaning more to excited rather than the sly he had gone for, and Stede’s breath hitches and he whispers a soft fuck.

Stede has a very nice cock. A little bigger than Ed’s, evenly thick all around, light in color. The hair at the base is thick and blonde, and it never smells bad - how he manages that when everyone else on the ship stinks to high heaven remains a mystery that’s far less important than getting his mouth around Stede right this second. He’s gotten a lot of practice at this lately, and feels he’s gotten pretty good. Clearly Stede shares the sentiment, cock growing stiffer by the second, breathless moans escaping his mouth with each lick, fingers curling in Ed’s hair in wordless praise.

It all gets into Ed’s head, swaddling his thoughts in a cozy blanket, hazing his thoughts. For now, there’s little in the world but the Stede’s lovely voice, the faintly salty taste in Ed’s mouth, and the love shared between them.

Izzy never let him do this. He’d wanted to, sometimes, after a raid or brawl, but she always said it was a whore’s job, quickly and out of breath before getting back to sucking Ed’s cock to oblivion. Bit hypocritical of her.

The thought yanks him harshly back to the rest of the world. To his own heated, needy moans around Stede’s shaft, his own cock standing in rapt attention, his own heart thumping a painful, erratic beat against his chest.

Stede taps his shoulder in a hurried warning, and Ed buries himself deep as he physically can, runs his tongue along Stede’s cock as best he can with his mouth stuffed so full, and is rewarded with all he should want at this moment. The scent of Stede enveloping him, the touch of Stede all over his body, the voice of Stede surrounding him, but something is missing.

Stede draws him close, embraces him sweetly, kisses him hotly.  “You’re so good to me, dear.”

Ed’s taken several missteps along the way, but he does his best. Stede makes him want to do his best. It’s turning them both into better people.

Ed caresses Stede’s cheek softly, love swelling in his whole being. “You’re very easy to be good to, love.”

Stede melts, smiles like he’s having a dream. His hand starts wandering downward, but Ed grabs his wrist before it makes contact with the throbbing, leaking member. Stede looks at him with slight confusion.

 “Shouldn’t keep the crew waiting, or they’ll start fighting over who gets what.”

Stede makes a disappointed frown. “If you insist.” Ed grins and gives him a quick kiss. “But tonight I will fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

It’s not often that Ed blushes. It’s even rarer than Stede use such language. “Keep talking like that and you’ll barely even need to touch me.”

The crew is gathered on the deck, chattering excitedly. It's less about the meager loot and more about the battle. It's lifted up everyone's moods, though apparently for Iz it was much more temporary since he's sitting by himself, looking considerably more sour than when they parted. Unlike Stede, Iz hasn't fully cleaned up. He's changed clothe and washed his face, but the dirty bandages are still there, and his hair is also clearly stiff with dried blood. He smells of it, too. Ed actually kinda likes it.

Frenchie holds up one of the coats they took off of the merchant crew, a dark blue, fairly fancy one. "Can I have this one? It'd go well with my Sunday breeches."

It wouldn't fetch much of a price. Someone had cut through an arm and left not only a giant rip, but also a bloodstain running down the whole front, so Stede gladly lets him keep it.

The rest of the clothes didn't fare much better, but they  still have the weapons and assorted pots, pans and dishes to bargain with, and decent rations. Not a feast’s worth, but a small celebration at least.

 “Closest port is île-A-Vache, right?” Stede ponders, and it’s proof that he’s been studying the charts.

 “Yeah. Port Royal pays better, though. Only a few days further, too.”

 “Supplies should last”, Stede thinks out loud. “Everyone in favor of making port at Port Royal?”

 “Aye!” comes the answer from most mouths, the rest being indifferent, Iz among them. It seems he’s done with being part of anything for now , as he slinks off to his cabin in annoyed silence.

Stede leaves Ed to plan the course - preferably one that would give them a good chance to raid one more ship while en route to Port Royal. He takes up the task gladly, he’s always been at his best at planning. Gives him a good excuse to spend some with Iz, too. They haven’t talked much lately, both still being awkward in the other’s presence, but Ed still misses hanging out with him. It’s strange how Stede is suddenly the one who’s closer to Izzy.

He goes to Iz’s cabin, forgets to knock before entering, and sees Iz craning his neck in front of the mirror, searching for the end of his bandage, hands getting smudged with the crusty blood of his bandages. Ed’s surprised he hadn’t changed them earlier.

 “Want some help with that?”

 “What the hell are you doing here?” Iz snaps defensively. Wow, who pissed in his coffee in the last hour? He looked pretty damn happy while playing hero for Stede. Getting a bit of blood on you shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

 “Came to get your help in planning the route.”

Iz clicks his tongue and practically spits his answer at Ed’s feet. “Not my job anymore.”

 “Huh?”

Izzy looks at him sternly. “You’re the one who made me a rigger. I don’t handle the navigation anymore.”

Oh. Right, of course, Ed did do that. He just got caught up in - something. He just forgot.

 “You’re right, I’ll just ask... someone else.”

Izzy used to crave his attention, would kill for an hour of Ed’s company.

 “I recommend the captain, he needs to learn eventually”, Izzy says scathingly, hands moving to press on his right shoulder. Maybe the cut is still putting a strain on him?

Ed could at least give him a shoulder rub, that should put him in a better mood. He always loved having Ed’s hands on him, his actions always made it clear even when his words claimed otherwise.

 “Does it hurt? You want a shoulder rub?”

 “Be best if you fucked off”, Izzy huffs, and it’s not in that I-actually-want-the-opposite way he used to always say it with.

Would... would he have said that if it was Stede? Who he was suddenly calling captain? Even if it wasn't quite the way he used to call Ed captain? Is he - how could he? How dare he?

Ed sees the ring on Izzy's ring finger. He belongs to someone else now.

How dare he!

 “Okay, okay. Just trying to be nice”, Ed mutters and leaves.

He says nothing about the incident to Stede, but he still acts strangely enough for Stede to ask if he’s alright - Ed doesn’t lie, but neither does he tell what’s causing his clipped words and tense hands. Stede can tell who the reason is, surely, but he can’t know the details. He doesn’t push, because he’s an angel.

Ed is impossibly lucky they met. Stede is perfect in nearly every way. He’s the sunny days after a storm. He’s sincere and good. He’s the adventure Ed has been searching for all his life, the missing link between sophistication and brutality. He’s honest and loving in all the ways Ed never knew a man could be. He’s a bit unhinged and not always as smart as he should be, but he has faith in Ed and that’s enough to make him want to work things out. So he tries to talk about it - but he can’t force himself to actually talk about it, and even if Stede is a little disappointed and impatient for things to get better, he understands and keeps loving Ed. Things are alright.

Despite wanting to, Ed doesn’t see much of Iz the next day - he’s got his hands full with the wind picking up, even with Fang helping him out where he can, and he has to spend a lot of time high up in the rigging, adjusting knots and whatnot. From what little glimpses Ed can catch, he seems fairly calm, so whatever made him throw that hissy fit after the raid must’ve been dealt with.

Being only about half a day away from Port Royal and not having run into a vessel they could  overtake, a restless energy takes over the idle crew, and with little else to do,  Jim suddenly gains an interest in Izzy’s work. They’re idly tossing a knife into the air and catching it, over and over, eyes on Izzy, who doesn’t seem to have noticed until he yells down at them.

 “Jimenez, pass me a knife!” Izzy calls from up in the rigging. Jim does as asked - by throwing it hard enough to embed the blade in the mast, by Izzy’s midsection. That’s some serious skill.

It’s hard to see from down here what he does with it, but it takes a bit, and Jim gets frustrated with the lack of good manners.

 “Would it kill you to say thanks!” they complain. Izzy hesitates for a few seconds before yelling a simple thanks. Jim seems happy enough with that, and after a few minutes Izzy throws the knife back down, blade first to the deck - usually, Ed would make him patch that nick, but supposes he could do it instead this once. It’s understandable Iz wouldn’t feel like climbing all the way down just to hand back one item.

Jim stays and watches for a minute, and then asks.

 “Is that the mizzenmast!”

 “Yeah!”

 “So that’s the mizzensail!”

 “Yeah!”

 “But the topsail is not at the top!”

 “The top ones are royals!”

 “That’s fucking stupid!”

 “I know!” Izzy laughs. He holds a lot of grudge towards royalty. Nobility in general, but especially royalty.

Jim watches for a while longer, then climbs up to join Izzy. He looks at them with surprise, and says something that’s lost to the wind, along with Jim’s reply. He then starts showing Jim what he’s doing, pointing out sails and teaching different knots. He’s usually a shitty teacher, he hates it when you don’t already know whatever it is you’re only just learning and starts cursing and screaming at you, but it seems he’s trying harder this time to not drive away his first apprentice.

Well, he was a shitty teacher in any case. The rare few cases Missy Izzy could be convinced to teach something had gone much better.

Or maybe it was just the subject matter.

Let’s not go down that path, brain.

Stede watches the pair fondly.

“You know, I’m starting to think he’s not a lost cause”, Stede chuckles. “He just needs some tenderness and he’ll be eating  out of our hands.”

The day Izzy doesn’t bite Stede’s hand is the day he stops calling himself Izzy, Ed used to think - now he’s dangerously close to agreeing. But the way to Izzy’s heart includes little niceness and a lot of domination.

 “It doesn’t work like that with Izzy”, he tries to explain. It’s nice of Stede to try and be kind, but he just doesn’t know Izzy the way Ed does. ”He doesn’t get gentleness, he’s an attack dog. He needs a leash. Wants a leash.” Is probably incapable of functioning without a leash.

 “Nonsense, everyone could do with some kindness”, Stede insists, obliviously kind-hearted. It’s what Ed loves about him, along with the cleverness and creativity. It’s just that the kindness is wasted on Izzy. Trust him on this, Ed’s tried.

“Perhaps he’s only an attack dog because no one tried to make him a lap dog”, Stede argues proudly. “Don’t tell him I said that, he’d hit me”, he adds, much less proudly.

Actually he’s wrong on that point - Bellamy(may he not rest in peace once his time comes) had tried his best to keep Izzy’s claws in check, and who had Izzy run to in the end? Ed smirks confidently.

 “Go ahead then. Give it a try, you’ll see I’m right.”

 “Perhaps I will! He deserves nice things, you know. Maybe I’ll invite him to dinner some day. Tomorrow, in fact! I’ll have Roach make  a meat pie. And something with apples, Izzy likes them.”

Ed might act high and mighty, but if he’s being completely honest, the situation worries him more than a little. Izzy warmed up to Stede while they played patient and nurse, and even more during this last few weeks. The uneasy, tentative affection between them is making Ed feel worryingly close to jealous. He knows it isn’t like that, because Izzy isn’t drawn to men like Stede - soft and fancy. He knows Izzy isn’t interested like that... And - and surely Stede isn’t interested either, it’s just sympathy for his patient, it will wear out once Izzy is himself again, and starts insulting everyone and trying to boss people around and cursing worse than a sailor. Because usual Izzy isn’t at all Stede’s type. And usual Izzy isn’t someone you forget, even if he’s acting like a puppy for now.

It can’t be like that.

Ed only agrees to Stede’s plan because he’s desperate to prove himself  wrong. After dinner, once they’ve set anchor, they go to Izzy’s cabin.

Unlike Ed, Stede always remember to knock. Izzy answers the door in a state of slight dishevel, and it’s unfairly fetching on him.  He’s so rarely seen without his hair set and waistcoat buttoned up that seeing him ready for bed feels like being let in on a dirty secret.

His hair has gotten a bit long. And it’s freshly cleaned. Guess he was celebrating Jim’s interest in the rigging. Even his once-white-now-grey and worn out linen shirt is clean. This one isn’t Lucius’, by the way, it’s one he’s had for years.

Ed knows this because it’s Ed’s hand-me-downs.

And Izzy wearing Ed’s clothes is often a sign of Missy Izzy’s presence.

It only adds to the fetchiness.

 “Izzy, could I have a moment of your time?”

 “Make it quick”, Izzy mutters, and Ed can no longer tell if he’s really annoyed or just acting his self-appointed part of disgruntled asshole.

 “I would like to extend an invitation to dinner tomorrow in the great cabin - if you’d be so inclined -”

 “Jesus, I said make it quick”, Izzy quips with a roll of his eyes. So, not actually annoyed.

 “Get your ass to our cabin tomorrow at dinner”, Ed grins. Iz answers with a grin of his own - Ed is surprised, though not startled unlike after that princess jab. Iz really does seem to be evolving into his past self. He used to grin and smile a lot more often when they’d been young, even when he wasn’t a woman. Missy Izzy had always been more easy-going, yeah, but a joke from just Izzy hadn’t been all that rare, either. Until the mutiny. Before life choked the joy out of Izzy. Before Blackbeard.

Fucking hell, they really screwed each other over with that decision, didn’t they.

“See how it’s done?” Izzy says to Stede, who takes it as a good-natured jab. It was probably only half good-natured. “But I’m busy with other stuff. Just eat by yourselves.”

Yeah, Ed’s pretty sure this is Missy Izzy. Regular Izzy wouldn’t be this polite to Stede. It’s been a real long time since her last appearance, she used to be around a lot when they were young, but Ed doesn’t remember seeing her even once in the last 7 years, at least. It’s pretty much only been First Mate Hands.

 “Oh.” Stede sounds so disappointed, but tries again, hopeful. “The day after, perhaps? Or lunch?”

At this, Izzy digs her heels in, grin replaced by familiar scowling. She loses the almost playful tilt of her head in favor of standing up defiantly. Ed doesn’t want to admit that he’s a little relieved by this. He’s proved his point about Izzy being an attack dog.

 “I’m busy. Eat by yourselves.”

 “Surely we can find a date that works for you?”

 “I’ve made a truce with you, Bonnet. We’re not friends.”

The relief Ed had felt is now dwarfed in comparison to how the plain sting on Stede’s face twists his insides.

 “Oh.”

Ed wants to wipe that scowl off Izzy’s face with his fist. She doesn’t get to hurt Stede, not after what she’s put them both through. She doesn’t get to play the victim. She will yield.

 “Iz. Dinner. Tomorrow. You don’t want to find out what happens if you’re not there.”

Stede looks at him with slight exasperation -it’s a relief he doesn’t understand how serious Ed is. Izzy just mopes.

Only seconds after saying it, Ed might throw up over how good it felt to threaten Izzy again. Stede and Ed aren’t the only ones who have suffered, and at least they’re close to getting their happily ever after. What does Izzy have? No real goals or friends, only a former lover who doesn’t know how to let her go but won’t take her back either.

Ed needs to start doing something about that.

They reach Port Royal a mid-morning the next day. As predicted, Stede has a hard time parting with the tea and coffee, so after Iz’s (very meanly worded) suggestion they compromise by keeping about two weeks’ rations of both and sell the rest. Stede laments the fact that the guy seemed like the type that doesn’t know how to appreciate a good arabica and would boil green tea.

Iz would make a sarcastic remark on it, but she went off on her own after her idea was accepted. It might be a good thing - Iz has always been shit a t relaxing, constantly finding something to either do or micromanage, but will usually use shore leave to visit a tavern though it’s rare for her to get drunk. Even rarer for him, interestingly enough.

Roach mopes a bit about having to cut his leave short, but Stede promises to pay him well for “overtime” - Ed makes a mental note to ask what that means later. Turns out Roach is a pretty good haggler and walks away with a share Ed feels is a lot more than fair. But it’s Stede’s ship and Stede’s cook, so it’s not his place to butt in.

They do a bit of shopping, then head back to the ship to get ready - hours earlier than needed. Stede explains that he’s just nervous and wants to make a good impression. Ed says that Izzy would really be more impressed by a messy and dirty cabin, but doesn’t mention it would be a bad sort of impressed. It doesn’t work anyway, Stede is set on making things as clean and pretty as humanly possible.

Once the knock comes, Stede gives one final smoothing to his immaculate clothes and hair. He opens the door to a pouting Izzy, who at least has the decency to have put on clean clothes - that particular linen shirt isn't Ed's, even though by all logic that one should still be clean. So she might have gone back to being just Izzy, then. This one is probably Lucius', Ed thinks he's seen the scribe wearing it before. They should do laundry soon, Ed is also starting to run out of clean clothes.

 “Right, let’s get this over with”, Izzy grumbles.

Stede doesn’t let the grumpiness get him down, thankfully. “Lovely of you to join us! I thought we might start with some aperitifs, would you care for some vermouth?”

 “Iz doesn’t really drink”, Ed informs him before Izzy can make a more scathing remark. He can’t remember the last time Izzy was properly drunk - at most he’ll allow himself to get tipsy - but it must’ve been before the Pants Incident, maybe even before Gideon died. So it’s been a long time, but Ed still remembers how he acts when he’s had a bit too much - gets soft and sleepy, more easy with his affections. Girly, as Izzy calls it, with contempt.

So Ed doesn’t remember the last time Izzy got properly drunk, but he does remember the last time Izzy asked for her hand to be held, and he remembers even better how in the morning she went from Missy Izzy back to First Mate Hands, and vehemently denied ever having liked getting his hair stroked and saying the words I love you.

Ed wonders if he still feels the same. Sturdy, but pliant under the right touches. If he would still make the same noises. If Stede has imagined -

Ed can’t possibly be drunk already, he only had a bit of rum in town.

 “Oh? Not even wine? That’s a shame. I have a bottle of Tokay from an excellent year”, Stede mourns.

 “Even I’m gonna need some liquid courage to get through this”, Izzy mutters as Stede guides him to the table, and for a second Ed wants Stede to put his hand on the small of Izzy’s back.

Someone must’ve been spiking the food at that shitty pub.

Izzy sits down heavily at the seat he used when Ed came to convince him to eat, and talk some things through.

Ed doesn’t know if it’s significant. It’s the seat next to Stede, closest to the door, furthest from Ed. Stede pours them all a tiny glass of the vermouth, dry and spicy. Izzy looks at it with disdain, and downs it one go. Then makes a face.

 “Stronger than you thought, right?” Ed laughs, and sips his daintily, brushing aside the memory of their first drunken kiss. “Want me to top your glass?”

 “Please - as the host, let me”, Stede intervenes.

Izzy downs this glass just as fast the first one.

 “You’re supposed to savor it”, Stede pouts.

 “I’ll savor it once I’m drunk enough to tolerate this farce”, Izzy shoots back and motions for another glass. Stede lets out a long-suffering sigh and does as requested.

Izzy lets the third pour in peace, Ed notices, and is sure Stede doesn’t miss it either. Izzy's awkwardness about being nice would be cute if it wasn't so goddamn annoying.

 “So. Here I am”, Izzy grumbles, purposely antagonistic. Ed gives him a warning look, which Izzy ignores with glee. “What’s for dinner.”

This is Stede in his element.

 “For appetizers we have boiled corn and onion bread rolls - I was hoping for garlic, but alas, the store has run dry. Our main course is Cheshire pork pie, with a side of pickled cucumbers, for wine we have a red Bordeaux, but you may of course opt for water if you’d prefer. And finally, for dessert, Roach has prepared apple tarts - they might be on the simple side, but I assure you they’re quite delicious.”

Ed has been watching Izzy’s face with amusement - at first it’s just annoyed, then as the list goes on it grows first into disbelief, then amazement, and finally outrage.

 “Fucking hell, you eat like this every day?”

 “No, no! Well, not anymore. This is a special occasion.”

Ed is surprised that Izzy doesn’t push the issue, since he hates excess and luxury. Instead, he takes a sip of his aperitif, savors it discreetly to buy himself some time, but it’s not enough and he can’t think of what to say.

Ed saves his hide and pride. “How’s work gone so far?”

 “We should redo the rigging completely”, Izzy responds flatly, in his element again - complaining. “It’s not an efficient arrangement. We should make port and overhaul the whole thing.Find a sailmaker.”

 “Is it in that bad of a condition?” Stede asks, worried.

 “Nah, but a sailmaker’s always good to have onboard”, Ed says.

Izzy suggests a port, and Stede promises to consider it. Then he tries some light conversation, but it doesn’t work out the way he hoped - Izzy is either thorny or tight-lipped. So they switch back to more professional matters, and even if Stede is a little disappointed, he’s also happy that Izzy is taking part without being properly drunk. Just tipsy enough that he doesn’t feel the need to be an asshole, and Stede is always happy to learn something new. They end up talking mostly about ship maintenance, for a good few hours. It lets Ed drown himself in a few more pleasant memories as he lingers on the outskirts of the conversation, offering only a few words here and there, between longing looks at Stede's hands and Izzy's face. It's gotten a lot older since they first met. It's comforting. Knowing it's still here, after all they've been through together. Hornigold, the Kraken, Stede. It won't run away from him.

The drinks undoubtedly help Iz to forget keep track of time, or he would’ve left right after finishing his food. He also forgets to act like he’s been forced here as a prisoner. It’s rare to see him wound down like this, which might be the reason he drinks so rarely in the first place - doesn’t like having his guard down and his image ruined. He’s not a happy drunk, per se, unless he starts in a good mood. But he does always get a little absentminded no matter his starting point.

 “We should do this again soon”, Stede suggests happily as he nurses his second cup of tea - the very one he hadn’t had the heart to sell. Aforementioned absentmindedness must be the reason Iz replies with a simple sure instead of a complaint, and the cup of quality coffee from the same haul as the tea can only help matters. Ed sees the surprise on Stede’s face and lifts a finger to his lips - better shush him before he says something to make Iz notice his lapsus.

 “But we need supplies”, Iz continues thoughtfully. “We should be running low on flour and potatoes.”

 “Roach told you?”

 "Lucius. He - spends a lot of time in the stores."

 “I wonder how Roach keeps track of everything, since he can’t read", Stede muses out loud, completely missing the fact that his scribe's favorite noodling spot is right next to everyone's food.

 “He can count and he has experience”, Iz explains, not very thoroughly.

 “He should count more sugar, we’re constantly running out”, Ed butts in, trusting Iz to latch onto that.

 “You know it’s because you put seven damn lumps in each cup! It’s undrinkable at that point you damn sugar mite!”

 “It’s not the right amount of sweet otherwise!”

 “Just eat it straight! That’s what you’re basically doing anyway!”

 “So I like sweet things. That a crime now?”

 “Unmanly is what it is”, Iz whines, in a not very manly fashion.

 “Being unmanly is fun every now and then. As you know.”

 “I guess”, Iz amends, and grins faintly. Then suddenly he remembers Stede isn’t supposed to know about that, and he jumps up, pointing an accusing finger at Ed. “The fuck I’d know! Whatever he’s been saying about me, it’s not true!” he tries to convince Stede, who has no idea what either of them is talking about.

 “I promise Ed has only said good things about you”, Stede tries to calm him, and it’s a lie. Ed has complained about Iz plenty.

 “Well of course it was good for him!”

 “You seemed to like it plenty”, Ed teases before he gets hold of his drunken brain. He didn’t mean to ruin the mood, he didn’t want to make Iz feel bad, he doesn’t want Iz running off and cutting their night short when they were getting along so well. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

 “Yeah, it was!” Iz yells angrily, but there’s an edge of panic in there.

 “I haven’t told him. Haven’t told anyone”, Ed promises. He really hasn’t. Not just for safety, but also because Iz always seemed ashamed of Missy Izzy.

 “You really haven’t?”

 “I haven’t.”

Iz deflates with relief and sits back down. Everyone is silent for a while, mood gone to shit, and Ed is mentally kicking himself in the head.

 “Well, it’s nearing bedtime”, Stede finally says awkwardly. “I could read us all a story - well, less read and more telling from memory. Seeing as how all my books of fairytales were thrown out.”

Iz barks a laugh at that, and the coffee nearly sloshes out from his cup. Ed makes an apologetic face, even though Stede has already forgiven him for throwing out all his stuff.

 “You ninnies have fun crying over children’s stories, I’m going to bed.”

And Iz gets on his wobbly feet. Ed wants to offer his help, but with their new strained relationship Iz isn’t likely to accept - and Ed’s in a volatile enough state of mind to not know how he would react if Iz rejected him.

 “We’ll get you to attend one of these days”, he boasts instead. Izzy rolls his eyes and gets going.

"This was a lovely evening, we should do it again soon!" Stede calls after him, and Iz flips him the bird. But doesn't say no.

Late the next morning Stede goes to ask Izzy to join them on shore, walk around a bit and see the sights - which there are few and none worth seeing, really - but it seems he's already gone off on his own. They later run into Frenchie and Wee John, who say they saw Izzy going somewhere with Jim and Oluwande, and when they return to the ship in the evening they see him mending a sail with Lucius - or rather, Izzy mends while Lucius sits next to him just chatting. It's nothing out of the ordinary  since Lucius is well-known to do as little physical work as possible, and Izzy has come to begrudgingly accept that. Stede shoots them a jealous look, but Ed pulls him away before either notices them. Nice as last night was, it’s only made Ed more scared of them growing closer.

They had planned to leave that day anyway, but an approaching navy vessel forces them to  gather everyone up from around town and run off early. Jim, Oluwande and Fang hurry to help Izzy with the sails, Buttons takes over the helm, and they manage to flee pretty much just in the nick of time. The lone navy ship tries to give chase, but is much slower than the Revenge, which makes Ed suspect there's something off with it - a brig that size should be making ten knots in this wind, but it seems like they're making barely half of that. Ed isn't about to curse his good luck, but it does make him uneasy. Like it's some kind of plot. But since the ship doesn't reappear in the next few days, he breathes a sigh of relief. Must've just been a coincidence or something. It's back to smooth sailing.

Well, mostly anyway. There's a wrinkle in the form of Stede taking up following after Izzy again, spying  on his knotwork, trying to replicate the hand movements. Izzy feigns ignorance for a while, but eventually snaps and starts instructing him angrily. Ed can’t hear them over the wind and waves, but can imagine the words - you fucking twat, like this! Fucking useless idiot, don’t you know anything?!, and so on. To Stede’s credit, while he’s startled and nervous, he stands his ground and reminds Izzy of the no-yelling rule instead of cowering. This pisses Izzy off even worse, but he really does shut up. Doesn’t even get physical! Oh, his face is red and scrunched up snarly, for sure, but he doesn’t start a fight. He does march off with great rage, naturally, but it’s nice to see he respects the rule enough to keep himself in check when reminded.

Stede looks at the rope with guilt, and tries to finish Izzy’s work for him. It’s a pretty sad sight, so Ed eventually takes pity on him and goes to take over.The next day, Stede stops pretending he isn’t blatantly watching, and goes right up to Izzy and pays very close attention. Ed subtly creeps closer to keep an eye on them. As expected, Izzy starts huffing and puffing, though he’s surprisingly slow to start with the yelling. Even more surprisingly, Stede actually learns something, and - this nearly makes Ed fall over in shock - Izzy gives him a reluctant "Not as shitty as all the other times" and Stede beams with pride, until Izzy follows up with "You know what that knot's called? What it's used for?" and then with an "Of fucking course you don't, you twat" when Stede makes a helpless noise in lieu of answering.

Ed is just about to intervene when Izzy goes into actual teaching mode. “It's the buntline hitch. Good for securing sails, shaking makes it tighten. Try again."

It hits Ed over the head like a bag of bricks.

Don’t get him wrong, of course he’s happy that Izzy’s finally stopped hating Stede for no reason and that they both get to be happy, that they’re getting along because trying to act mediator between them had been incredibly tiring, but it’s just so stomach-twisting seeing the two of them acting so friendly. Guess even Izzy has to go soft for someone who nursed him back to health, be it even his sworn, one-sided nemesis. The experience has mellowed him out a lot - he curses less these days, and is less high-strung about maintaining the ship, less stressed in general. He feels closer to his 30-year-old self. The one that was efficient without being a hard-ass, who smiled every now and then, and looked at Ed with warmth and only a touch of reverence. It resembles the Izzy that Ed had loved, so long ago, before being a living legend wore them both out. He feels a small something in his chest whenever he sees Izzy up in the rigging, or securing the ropes, or just sitting with the crew.

That something is worryingly similar to the possessive sting that led to him steal Izzy from Bellamy, decades ago. And it’s scarily close to the surge of affection he feels whenever Stede touches him. Of course it’s a lot weaker than either those feelings, and of course he isn’t actually falling back in love with Izzy, and of course there’s no danger of Ed abandoning Stede, but - it’s nostalgic, and Ed can still remember what it was like, loving Izzy. Having someone who’s lived the same shitty circumstances, who can understand what it takes to thrive outside the law, and can damn near read your mind. How intoxicating it felt to have someone like that at his mercy. How flattering it was to hear someone drink in every word he said. Invigorating, in a very different way from the comfortable partnership with Stede feels. Covetous.

Those memories must be why he feels uneasy seeing others act so familiar with Izzy. He used to be no one’s but Eds, would rarely chat with anyone else, and would never let anyone else touch him. Now he sees him talking with them all the time, sees Lucius give him pats on the back and Fang try to give him hugs(he’s had no success as of yet). And worse, Izzy is responding to this new-found camaraderie. He’s stopped griping about anything and everything, does his best to stay neutral even when his face betrays his anger, catches himself before he tries to boss anyone around, and has even started sleeping on the deck with the rest of the crew who don’t have cabins. He used to hate that.

But the worst is that Stede is being so kind in return, and so patient, and Izzy likes it. He’s almost  stopped calling Stede names, says a kind word every now and then, doesn’t squirm away when Stede puts a hand on his shoulder, or brushes his arm, looks at him without sneering. It’s almost like he’s moved on from Ed to -

No, actually the worst is how Stede is responding to this new, muted Izzy, that he puts a hand on Izzy’s shoulder, and brushes his arm, and smiles at him warmly and quietly, and looks at him with fondness that the Izzy from a month ago could never have incited.

Since their last call of port had been cut short, they vote to make another landfall after a few days. Izzy wants to get some repairs done and to find a sailmaker, Roach needs chicken feed, and Buttons says something about a dangerous phase of the moon. Ed can't tell if he says it in favor or in opposition of making port. Olivia squawks supportively, and no one comments further.

 "Could try Santiago de Cuba, but it's not a pirate port. Tortuga might be safer", Ed muses out loud. "Could make it in two days if the wind holds, and it should."

 "Everyone in favor of making port at Tortuga, raise your hand?" Stede asks, and everyone raises a hand. Guess the moon was making the sea dangerous, then. "Unanimous vote! How lovely! Ed, dear, would you mind planning the course?"

 "Sure. Iz, wanna come with?"

 “No.” It’s blunt, and it’s only then that Ed remembers once again - “It’s not my job anymore.”

 “Of course, sorry”, he apologizes instantly. But he's mostly sorry about missing a chance to spend time with Iz. He's been giving Ed the cold shoulder since the dinner. “Let me know if you need help with the rigging.”

 “Jimenez is competent enough, we’ll manage two days.” And with that he walks off, not even a glance to Ed’s direction, Bellamy’s ring on his finger.

Izzy never used to say no to him. These new boundaries are throwing him off balance. On one hand, it’s a good thing Izzy’s learning his limits, and letting go of his obsession with Ed. And Izzy has every right int he world to be his own person. He should be his own person. Ed should encourage this new direction, help Iz move on and find contentment in his new role and relationships.

But he wants to claim Izzy all to himself again, make him look only at him again, want to only please him again, make him stop carrying Bellamy’s ring on his hand, make him stop avoiding Ed, wants to show anyone who dares touch Izzy what happens to those who lay their hands on Blackbeard’s property.

And then - then he remembers Stede and feels such horror at these thoughts that he nearly throws himself at the feet of whoever’s nearest and begs for punishment. He loves Stede, wants to spend the rest of his life with him, wants to never hurt him or betray him - it - it must just be because Izzy has never been cold to him before so it's new and strange and fascinating. It'll pass.

It has to pass.

Ed tries to push it out of his mind, and he does have some success, largely because the more he stresses about it the more his knee starts aching and the pain leaves little room for other thoughts. Like it's trying to be helpful in it's own, torturous way. By now it's the middle of the night, and his whole leg might as well be on fire, and he's this close to hacking the goddamn thing off. Resting it doesn't help, stretching it doesn't help, and Stede's massaging technique isn't confident enough - his touch is too light, worried about hurting Ed further, and also doesn’t have the experience to know what parts like what motions. Stede is so gentle, when he isn't burning down asshole rich idiots. Gentleness is such a rare treat in this type of life, and Stede wields it so freely - sometimes it still catches Ed off guard how open he can be about everything. How clueless and soft he is. How absolutely lovely he is.

Ed wouldn't have the heart to wake him even if he did have the perfect massage technique. Izzy, on the other hand, is on watch. Even if he now refuses to take part in choosing routes or any other professional matters - as he has every right to, Ed reminds himself - hopefully he won't mind doing a personal favor for his frie - possible friend. Ed isn't too sure what they are, anymore. Can only hope Stede hasn't usurped Ed's spot in Izzy's mind.

So he heads out to the deck, thankful that he moon is only a crescent so Buttons isn't up for moonbathing, and for the slight drizzle that means all the crew has opted to sleep under deck. Izzy usually likes to hang out on forecastle, and this time is no exception - the unusual part is that he isn’t alone. In the faint moon light Ed can see Lucius leaning on the helm, Izzy somewhere behind him. Ed still isn’t too comfortable around the scribe, meeting the victim of your attempted murder is awkward enough in the best circumstances, the victim being undeserving makes it even worse, and when you break down crying before your undeserving attempted murder victim who has been hiding in your fist mate’s cabin for weeks, well - that’s really something else. Ed hadn’t been in a sound state of mind at the time, and of course he’d apologized, and it should be clear he regrets doing it, and he’s trying hard to make amends, but Lucius is still so cold. It doesn’t look like he’s planning to forgive and forget any time soon. Same with Black Pete, although he isn’t making it as obvious. Ed tries not to show that he’s avoiding Lucius, but everyone must already knew. The ship isn't that big.

So Ed sits down and leans against the wall instead of getting up on the forecastle, trying his best to rub his knee, waiting for Lucius to move on so Izzy can work on it properly. He can’t quite make out what’s being said, but it sounds pretty heated. Not all that surprising when it comes to Izzy, but very surprising with Lucius. The man is timid at the best of times, and even when he got angry he’d just get sarcastic instead of aggressive. While he snipes a lot, Ed’s never heard him yell at anyone. Is it more shocking that he’s yelling at Izzy, or less? After all, they had shared that tiny cabin for weeks, must’ve gotten along pretty well since they’re both still alive - is he comfortable enough with Izzy to yell, or just angry enough? They had become something approximating friends while Stede was away. Izzy has stopped threatening and demeaning Lucius almost completely, and Ed sometimes catches them talking alone calmly. They have their arguments, naturally, since Izzy is Izzy and Lucius has a lot more backbone than you’d think, but it always resolves pretty quickly and amicably. These days they’re practically bosom buddies. Weird how Izzy seems to get along best with the people who put up with his bullshit the least.

But this time the talk just keeps going and getting more and more heated. Ed’s knee isn’t letting up, either, and he’s starting to consider just interrupting them both for the sake of his knee and their friendship, when Izzy’s voice finally rises higher and louder, and the first audible words of the argument are “You lower your fucking voice! I’ve had enough of your-”

Classic Izzy.

He’s interrupted by Lucius’ much cooler and quieter voice, and Ed finds himself straining to hear the rest. His interest has been piqued. What a fun word, piqued. Stede taught him that last week.

 “It’s how things are -” Izzy is saying.

 “They don’t have to be.”

 “Fuck off, not our business how-”

 “Tell me, Izzy, are you happy? With how things are?”

There’s a short silence, a first when it comes to arguments with Izzy. The man is simply incapable of shutting himself up even when it’s clear he has no arguments other than shut up or fuck off. It worries Ed - maybe he hasn’t recovered from his suicide attempt as well as everyone thought. Maybe the root cause hasn’t really been dealt with, maybe they haven’t talked about it enough, maybe Ed just got swept up in the new dynamic between Izzy and the crew and didn’t realize not everyone is as happy about it?

Ed should probably go help him. Show support and take criticism. Lucius has a scathing tongue when pushed, Izzy doesn’t need that when he’s proven more sensitive than he acts. He might take things the wrong way and do something drastic.

Ed steps into view just as Izzy starts saying “Doesn’t matter whether I’m-”, then is startled by Ed’s sudden appearance and shuts up quicker than a rock falls. Ed curses at himself, because it sounded like Izzy was about to say something really fucking important.

 “Don’t mind me, just our for a stroll. The knee, you know”, he says feebly.

Izzy stares at him petrified, while Lucius has a much more calculating look on his face. Ed doesn’t like that look. It has a plan.

Lucius turns his back to Ed, facing Izzy, so he can’t see the expression, but his voice is calm as he says in an even tone: “Clearly what you’re doing now isn’t working. High time to try something new.” Another calculating glance at Ed, who has been rooted in place, then a smirk. “You know where to find me.” And then he leans into Izzy again, and whispers something into his ear that makes Izzy bloom crimson all the way to his neck where the weathered gauze suddenly hides it, and scream expletives at Lucius until he’s disappeared under deck.

 “Wow. What was that all about?” Ed asks, trying for amused, but the heavy knot in his stomach doesn’t make it easy. Izzy is a complicated and contradictory guy - often, the more he curses and acts like he hates something, the more he actually likes it. In the old days, the more aroused he was, the more he would deny it, and they rarely got to bed without a physical fight. A severe case of the lady protesting too much.

The thought floats in Ed’s head in circles. The butterflies in his stomach are flapping up a storm, and it’s more than the uneasiness of being around Lucius, more than the fear of Izzy hiding things from him again. It’s something closer to when Bellamy -

No, it can’t be that. He stopped feeling that way about Izzy a long time ago. And Ed has Stede now. It's nothing like that!

 “He’s being a fucking asshole is what that was all about!” Izzy huffs, but it’s more embarrassed than angry, and the feeling doesn’t like that, even though it has no business butting into Izzy’s personal life anymore.

Izzy takes a deep breath through his nose. Hides his face in his hands, makes a shuddering sigh. After a moment his hands wander down to his neck, and he’s still blushing. Something Ed hasn’t seen in at least fifteen years, and his stomach turns.

 “Thought you were friends these days.”

 “He’s become insufferable since he sketched me”, Izzy grumbles, shaking his head, looking to the side, his lips in a tense line, and Ed freezes.

Izzy let himself be sketched by Lucius? He’s let himself be - just how fucking close have they become since - Izzy has posed for Lucius, for a sketch, have they -

Ever since Izzy came back to life, Ed had been worried that he was developing feelings for Stede. But the whole time he’d been mistaken? Missed the threat hanging out in the periphery, forgotten the most obvious candidate right beside Izzy, who already has half the crew wrapped around his finger, whose shirts Izzy’s been wearing for weeks? What is he going to do with Izzy? What is the point of him getting just one more bedmate, having someone who used to hate him, taking someone else’s lover -

Wait, was this how Izzy felt when Stede entered the picture? Did he feel the same all-encompassing rage and desire to strangle the fucking asshole who waltzed in to steal his man? It had been a decade since Ed could rightly call Izzy his lover, and yet it felt completely natural in his head? And the thought of losing him to someone else filled him with such jealousy his chest felt like it would implode.

Izzy’s actions suddenly make so much more sense. Ed is already happy with someone new, and yet he’s ready to go stab the scribe and have him keelhauled until he “accidentally” dies.

And he’s even more furious at Izzy. Who is he to follow someone else around like a puppy, wagging his tail at a new man, barking on someone else’s command without Ed’s permission? He’s Ed’s dog, his to do with as he pleases or doesn’t, his to either keep or put down.

 “You want to fuck him, Iz?” Ed asks, tone too dangerous, too possessive. He hears Izzy's breathing quicken, sees his pupils dilating, his body shivering.

 “What kind of question-”

 “What did he whisper to you, before he left?” Ed demands as his hand approaches Izzy's throat, searching for its familiar place. Not to hurt, just to remind them both of their roles. And when Izzy hesitates, the hand wraps around, squeezes a little. Feels like it's back home.

 “What did he say?”

 “He said I’ll let you call me daddy”, Izzy whimpers.

So that’s how it is. Izzy’s looking for a new master, because his old one has thrown him out. Ed only has himself to blame. Because he never owned Izzy but kept acting like he did, stole him from the one man who would have kept him for all his life, and then didn’t let him go once he’d had his fun. And now they’re stuck in this co-dependent mess where they aren’t friends or lovers or anything because Ed has found a new lover but won’t let Izzy do the same, isn’t ready for Izzy to move on, isn’t ready to face the fact that Izzy isn’t happy with him anymore.

He has no business butting into Izzy's personal life. Hasn't had the right in years, and yet it felt so right at the moment. Was it only because Izzy is as good as property in his mind? And once he owns something it's his forever? No matter how anyone else feels, least of all the property itself?

He pries his hand off Izzy’s throat, disgusted with himself. When did he stop seeing Izzy as a real human, with human emotions? He knows he used to, back when they were both happy, when they were young, back on The Ranger.  When did Iz turn into a discarded toy he only wants back when someone else wants to play with it?

 “Iz.”

 “Yes, captain?” and the words stab him right in the heart. Here he is, proving how he doesn’t deserve Izzy’s reverence, and yet that’s exactly what he’s getting. By strangling him for having an interest in someone new a fucking decade after Ed abandoned him.

 “You can go to him, if you want. I don’t - I don’t own you, you know. I just got jealous, you were mine for so long -”

 “You’re jealous?” Izzy interrupts, amazed, and Ed realizes he’s only dug himself deeper, so he leans into his new persona who wants to apologize for things, which Izzy hates. He needs to push Izzy away.

“Yeah, I know it’s shitty of me, the way I kept sleeping around after we got together and when we haven’t been like that for a long time but I can’t help it. If - if I’m stealing you from him, like I stole you from Bellamy -”

 “I chose to be yours”, Izzy interrupts again, firmly this time, and his eyes still  full of admiration, showing how badly Ed has fucked up with him, again. It’s like every word and action he takes with Izzy is the wrong one. He’s so fucking shit at handling Izzy, and Izzy is also shit at reading Ed, how are they ever supposed to make things right? “I kept belonging to you because I wanted to. I still belong to you. No one else has touched me", Izzy pleads, falling just short of groveling at Ed's feet. Maybe his statement still holds true, but clearly he’s dipping his toes into being touched by Lucius . "Having other people is your prerogative, I was happy as long as I got to be your wife.”

 “Which means you’ve been unhappy for a long time, Iz”, Ed says, and Izzy seems surprised by that, somehow. Because he hadn’t realized it himself? Because he didn’t think Ed would comment on it? Because he thought Ed wouldn’t care? “Let me make things right”, Ed begs. “Iz. I want you to be happy again, and - I’m not the one who can do that anymore.”

 “Don’t send me away.”

 “I wont. But you need to find a new reason to live. We both need to become new people.”

 “We’re too fucking old for that.”

 “We’re not.” Ed says this with conviction, as a pure fact, because he knows it’s true. Ed began his own transformation when he met Stede, and has kept it going knowingly, purposefully. And Iz is teetering on the edge of his own transformation, though he’s much less aware of it. “We will change”, Ed continues, and he feels the fire in his eyes, and Iz sees the flames. He has that look of speechless adoration Ed used to love on him. “And it will be for good.”

For now, Iz will have no doubts. For now, he will believe any word that comes out of Ed’s mouth. As Ed walks away, he knows Iz will be watching him, and he also knows the look - worship, trust, devotion. He will look like that for a several minutes before coming back down to Earth - Jack and Bellamy have told him as much, with wildly differing opinions on it.

When Ed says I will change to Stede, he doesn’t look like that. He’s pleased, but doesn’t see Ed as his god, just a fellow human, with a human body and human emotions and human ambitions. And being seen like this feels so much better.

He wants that for Izzy.

In the morning Ed steels his resolve. He needs to talk  to Lucius. Tell him he has Ed’s support in courting Iz. So Iz will know he has options. That he deserves more than scraps from Ed’s table.

No, Ed has given him even less than scraps, he realizes - not even the bare fucking minimum to keep Izzy content. Not even empty promises of treats, just plain not giving him anything. He spent his days avoiding Izzy’s eye, planning how to talk to him with the least amount of words, trying his best to forget Izzy’s existence as long as he stayed in line. Nothing but the stick, not a single carrot for years.

He has to let Izzy move on. Has to let him know he has options. A large part of him still wants to put a knife through Lucius’ palm for daring to even think about laying a hand on his Izzy, but it’s fast becoming smaller than the part that wants to become a better man. Perhaps soon he’ll stop feeling possessive over his past lover. Best friend. First mate.

He can’t be Blackbeard anymore. Doesn’t want to be Blackbeard. He doesn’t want to look at Izzy and only see property. Izzy doesn’t understand - that’s the problem, he doesn’t understand his own good. He might want to go back to the days when Ed owned him, might believe the only thing he’s good for is serving Ed, might fight tooth and nail against being freed, but Ed won’t let him suffer like that anymore -Izzy deserves better. And he'll see that once he’s let go of Ed.

Even if this isn’t the day he feels comfortable imagining Izzy in the arms of someone else, it will be the day he starts working towards that. He will talk to Lucius - give them his blessing, even if he doesn’t quite mean it yet.

So he seeks Lucius out - nervously, feeling faintly sick, but he does find Lucius and doesn’t dodge his gaze. He’s alone in his and Pete’s cabin, scribbling something in a large notebook - his sketchbook? The one where Izzy is drawn? Ed hopes he at least got his own page, and not just a corner among five other dicks.

Ed feels irritation rising to match his nervousness.

 “Got a minute?” he asks, going for casual. No one is fooled. For one, because he doesn’t really look at Lucius these days, much less talk with him. That alone makes the whole conversation conspicuous as hell, and it’s only going to get more conspicuous from here.

Lucius gives a chilly nod. For a second, Ed wonders if he should sit down, but the only place is next to Lucius on the bunk and he doubts it would help things, so he stays at the doorway, attempting to lean casually on the wall, but he probably just looks constipated.

 “So I’ve seen you getting kinda chummy with Izzy, huh?” He tries, tries so hard not to sound jealous, but doesn’t manage. It was supposed to just be a casual statement, but it comes out like an accusation.

For such a bubbly person, Lucius sure can look cold when he wants.

 “Tends to happen with people who save your life.”

 “Right, yeah”, Ed acquiesces right away, because it does tend to happen with people who save your life... as well as those who nurse you back to health, but somehow he’s much less possessive and much more terrified when Stede is the threat. “Makes sense that would help. So, um - things going well, then? You’re friends now? He used to hate you.”

Lucius gives him a well-deserved suspicious look, and Ed can’t keep his cool. Not that he’s been keeping it all that well up to now, but, you know. At least he hadn’t been sweating bullets before that stare. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, which his bad knee isn’t very appreciative of, he’s been pushing it too far these past few days.

 “Not that feelings can’t change, obviously”, Ed bumbles. “He seems to like you well enough these days.” Well enough to put up a loud enough show to wake the whole ship and show his dick to Lucius.

 “You had your chance. For decades, probably. Stop getting jealous just because he’s ready to move on.”

A flash of anger breaks through the guilt and shame, and Lucius must notice because grips his pen tighter and his legs tense up, ready to stand. Ed can’t blame him for that, even if Ed keeps proving he’s not Blackbeard anymore, that he won’t resort to violence in matters like these. That he’s atoning for his earlier actions, that he doesn’t want to be the person used to be, and that he doesn’t mean to resent people for not forgiving him.

 “I - I’m not jealous, I swear. Go after him if you want, I won’t stop you, I promise. But you know he’s a difficult person.”

Lucius clicks his tongue and scowls at Ed in a very Izzy-like way. Like he’s been getting lessons. Like they’ve spent a lot of time alone in a confined space while Ed was busy crying after Stede and abusing Izzy.

 “Thanks for reminding me, I totally forgot about all the times he bullied me.”

 “So why would you -”

 “Because he saved my life. And I realized he’s more complicated than he looks.”

Ed has to admit he’d been just as, if not more, surprised than Lucius himself that Izzy had saved him. In all the decades they’d spent together Izzy had always tried to make Ed take that final step instead of outsourcing it, and when he finally had personally tried to kill someone, Izzy goes and saves that person, claiming some bullshit about knowing Ed would regret it. He’d been right, of course, but he shouldn’t have thought that in the first place.

 "So are you done threatening me? Can we both keep going about our days now?"

 "I wasn't threatening you. I swear. If you want - and if Iz's up for it - I mean he probably is even if he thinks he isn't. Or wants you to think he isn't. He's weird like that. I'm sure you know."

 "Eh. I think he's mostly just repressed. Learned not to show his true self from a young age. Doesn't know how to do it anymore. Might have a side of him even you don't know about."

Ed doubts that. They've known each other for so long, since they were practically kids. Were real close for a while, too.

He wants to gloat about that. That he knows Izzy far more intimately than Lucius does. That he's learned all of Izzy's secrets, even the one they've never talked about, that sometimes just comes to the surface, and is now becoming relevant again after years of inactivity.

But this isn't supposed to be a competition. Besides, it's possible Lucius already knows about Missy Izzy - even if they aren't fucking yet, Iz has been naked in front of Lucius, and the only times Izzy has his dick out are when he's peeing or being Missy Izzy.

 "Whatever secret sides he shows you, don't draw attention to them. He hates feeling exposed."

Lucius looks at him like he's trying to figure out if Ed knows the same secret he does.

 "In any case, be prepared to wear the pants in the relationship. Iz's a follower, not a leader."

 "Mm. It gets annoying sometimes."

 "I know. Teach him how to be an equal."

Lucius makes some sort of noise, Ed doesn't stick around to ask of it's supposed to be affirmative or disbelieving - he feels naked and vulnerable under Lucius’ sharp eyes, and it’s best not to give him any more ammo than he already has.

By evening, Ed is feeling surprisingly okay. He has a little stroll on deck with Stede, they look at the stars for a while, Stede sweeps him off his feet with the most wonderful kiss, and then they go to bed. Settling in comfortably, Ed as the big spoon, Stede begins their usual late night conversation - often it's light-hearted topics of little importance, just cozy small talk until they fall asleep dreaming of each other.

 "I invited Izzy for another dinner", Stede mentions. Tonight's talk may be a bit more important than usual. "I can't tell if he agreed or not."

 "What did he say?"

 "Something along the lines of over my dead body”, Stede says with a surprisingly good impression of Izzy's sarcastic snarl. “But then he asked if he should dig out his finest silks and laces and prance into the cabin like a glittery spring lamb. I offered to borrow him some clothes if he liked but he spat on my shoes."

 "If he ever asks to lend anything fancy, it's 'cuz he's planning to break it. He hates that shit."

 "Has he always been like this?"

 "Pretty much. Used to be less hostile about it when we young. Tolerated it in small doses. Or on certain people."

 "Such as?"

Fucking hell. Did he really have to tell Stede about Bellamy, may he catch the plague. Ed didn't like it when bedtime talk turned serious, it always lead to uneasy sleep. And Sam fucking Bellamy makes him nauseous on the best of days.

 "Ugh. There was this guy Sam - before he met me. Real asshole, if you ask me. Fancypants always thought he was better than everyone else. But for some reason Iz liked him”, Ed grumbles reluctantly, because the night is already ruined and if they don't have this talk now, they'll be having it some other time, and it's never a good time to talk about fucking posh-ass Bellamy.

 "He mentioned a captain Sam once", Stede muses innocently, because he hadn’t lived through that fucking brownnose trying to steal his man.

 “Black Sam Bellamy”, Ed growls. “Do yourself a favor and never meet him.”

 “You sailed with Sam Bellamy?” Stede gasps in amazement and admiration, as if he himself hadn’t sailed with fucking Blackbeard which was infinitely more impressive. And because he hadn’t sat through all those fucking pretentious speeches with unnecessarily long words. And he hadn’t been macking on Stede's boyfriend.

 “For a while”, Ed groans. “We all served under Hornigold, me and Jack first, and later Izzy signed on with Bellamy.” May he die of cholera. “Never could figure out why Izzy thought he was hot shit. He was always so fucking pretentious, calls himself the prince of pirates these days, fucking asshole.”

 "Clearly Izzy thought you were - hotter... shit." Stede makes a face like he tasted the word as it came out.

 "I appreciate you trying but don't force yourself", Ed chuckles.

 "Are you sure I'm not too fancy?"

 "Nah, love, you're just right."

There's a moment of silence. Ed isn't sure if Stede wants to keep talking, or if he's trying to fall asleep. But now that Bellamy has been brought up, Ed feels restless, something is crawling under his skin.

 “I still don’t know if they were really together or just fucking”, Ed blurts out, and he doesn't know why he's lying. Maybe he's trying convince himself that he doesn't know they were serious enough for Bellamy to give Iz a ring, and for Iz to carry it with him for over two decades. Izzy will expose him if Stede ever asks. He’s just - feeling insecure, or something, now that Bellamy is present on both Iz's body and Stede's mind. This isn’t helping, by the way, it’s just making him more confused and guilty. Iz had been serious about Bellamy, until Ed stepped between that and ruined Izzy’s chance for a happy life for what amounted to a few years of passion, and then a lifetime of obsessive worship.

Though Ed’s sure no one would blame him for wanting Izzy. “Y'know, Iz was a real catch back then, just gorgeous. Think half the crew was after him at one point or another. I wanted him from the moment I first laid eyes on him”, Ed reminisces dreamily. Compact and sinewy and filled with spitfire attitude, like he had something to prove and he did prove it, time and again, showed he was a sailor through and through and a pirate even more than that. His skill with a sword had made Ed swoon even back then, and he’d only gotten better with time. “And he was fucking funny, when he cracked a joke the whole ship would shake with laughter!”

Stede gives him a disbelieving look. That’s understandable, current Izzy isn’t much of a jokester. Missy Izzy a bit more so, but barely noticeably.

 “So for a while he was seeing us both. It’s torture, you know. Only having a part of someone, like that. Was just about ready to start planning Bellamy’s murder, that final year, but then the mutiny happened, and Izzy came to his senses. Dumped Bellamy and became my first mate. You can imagine how pissed he was!” Ed laughed. It had been glorious. Bellamy losing his shit on deck when not only did Ed refuse him a position in the crew, but also stole his beau!

 "You should tell me more about your adventures from back then", Stede says, hand idly caressing Ed's side. It's tickling a bit.

 "Sometime, sure. Or you could ask Iz."

 "Would he tell me, do you think? I'm not sure we're close enough yet."

 "He will if I'm there, too", Ed says. He can picture the three of them getting cozy on the sofa, or in front of the fireplace, maybe with a bit of wine, Stede looking star-struck as Iz recounts tales about their reckless -

Ed is startled out of his reverie by the lack of jealousy in the image. Gets his head back on straight. "He's got his sore spots, though. Might be best not to ask about those."

 "Such as Sam Bellamy?"

 "Yeah", Ed mutters darkly. Is Sam fucking Bellamy gonna be a regular thing from now on? It's only been twenty five years, it's way too fucking soon to be talking about him this often.

 "...Do you suppose Izzy felt the same about me as you felt about Bellamy?" Stede asks quietly, self-conscious.

Having other people is your prerogative.

Ed stays quiet.

 "Dear?"

 "Bellamy's a sore spot for me, too."

Stede makes an apologetic noise and stops talking.

Having other people is your prerogative - in other words, I was fine with you fucking other people as long as I was your main squeeze.

Iz hadn't raised a stink about Jack. Because there had been no danger of Jack becoming the main squeeze instead of Iz. No one else, in all their years, had come nowhere near to toppling Iz off his throne, even after they stopped being intimate. For ten years, despite their strained relationship, Iz could feel confident about being the most important person in Ed's life.

Of course he had hated Stede.

The next two weeks are a steady stream of nails in Ed’s coffin. It seems like every day Izzy looks at Stede softer than the last, every day Stede is allowed a little closer, every day Izzy comes closer to smiling at Stede in the ways he used to smile at Ed and Bellamy. If you met them now, you never could’ve guessed they used to be at each other’s throats only months ago.

Ed knows the time is coming - even if Stede doesn't act any different with Ed, the shift is clear in how he treats Iz. Clear as day in his looks, his words, his smiles. Especially in his touches.

And then it happens. On a Thursday, when everyone is celebrating Wee John’s birthday, rum loosening everyone’s limbs and tongues, the night making some raucous and others mellow.

Izzy is one of the latter. He rarely drinks - it makes him absent-minded, calmer, nicer, makes him ruin his hard-ass image.

He only drinks rarely. So when he does, he gets drunk easily.

And when he got drunk, he would always come to Ed. He’d look relaxed, stumble his way over and then cuddle up next to him, like the cat who got the cream. He’d only ever allow himself to be like that with Ed. He’d only ever want intimacy from Ed. He’d only ever let himself be soft in Ed’s arms.

But because Iz - because he needs someone to worship, if there is no one worthy, then he’ll decide someone is worthy. He’ll pour all his efforts and attention on that person alone, will seek their approval and closeness, gives his love solely for that person, and if... and if that person decidedly rejects that worship, if they push against it with all their strength, and finally break free from their role as Izzy’s personal god, then he’ll choose a new god. And then it’ll be that other man he sinks down next to, that man whose shoulder who he will lay his head on, instead of yours.

And that will hurt worse than anything he ever did on purpose to hurt you.

Ed doesn't miss the way Stede smiles at Iz, notices him wrapping an arm around Iz's shoulder, sees them become lost in each other's touch.

Stede whispers something in Iz's ear, Iz nods tiredly, and Ed knows - this is the time. The moment has come. When life's constants break. The Sun will rise, Izzy will idolize you. The much more recent constant of Stede will love you. He’ll have self-doubts, he’ll panic about something meaningless, but in the end he will come back to you.

Until he sees how you’ve treated your supposed best friend and drive him to suicide. Then he will nurse that friend back to health and love him instead of you.

No one notices Ed excusing himself and slinking to the bed he soon won't be sharing with Stede. Draws all the blankets around himself tight as he can. Stops trying to hold in the tears.

For the first time ever, he wonders if this is how Bellamy felt when Ed waltzed into the picture - as Iz started spending more time with Ed, started looking more and more up to him, started neglecting Bellamy more and more. Did Bellamy also struggle between wanting to hold on and not wanting to cage Iz? Had he also truly loved Iz, in the same way Ed truly loves Stede? Loved enough to risk his life trying to win Izzy back, loves enough to let Stede make his own decision. If Bellamy, the fucking self-important ass-licker, also wailed alone wrapped up in the scent of the person he had just lost.

He hears the door creak quietly, and knows Stede has come in. He spares a thought to gathering himself, but it’s not something he wants to do right now, so he doesn’t. Something Izzy used to get on his case about.

Stede isn’t like that. Izzy can rest easy, knowing the things that need doing will be done.

There’s a soft touch to his back through theblankets, and an even softer “Dearest?” from Stede’s mouth. It only makes Ed cry harder.

He sits up, still cocooned in his blankets, only face visible, and even that just barely.

 “We should talk about Izzy.” Because he can’t take this anymore, he needs closure. He promises himself he’ll accept whatever answer Stede gives, won’t begrudge him for anything he decides to do.

The caught look in Stede's eyes tell Ed everything he needs to know.

 “I couldn’t help falling for him”, Stede says warily, but even then a small smile rises to his lips, and he looks so beautiful. It's the look of someone unable to contain their happiness, giddy about sharing their joy. “He’s much more complicated than I expected. At first I just wanted to help him, and it grew from there. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I wasn’t planning to do anything about it. He’s still hung up on you.”

And Stede kisses him. Gently. Affectionately. Playfully. And earnestly. In the exact same ways he’s always kissed Ed. Not at all like he’s letting Ed go.

It's kind of him to keep pretending, to let Ed lie to himself that he still has time, that his bliss with Stede doesn't have to end yet. It's that gentle heart of his at play again - readying him for a softer blow, preparing him for a slower goodbye, thinking Ed hasn't been seeing this coming for weeks.

As tempted as Ed is to fall for the lie, he doesn’t want to keep pretending, doesn’t want his heartache prolonged in false hopes, doesn’t want Stede settling for second best and habits when he has found someone more interesting.

 “Ed, dear, what is it?”

 “You should tell him”, Ed sobs, wiping the snot from his face, because he wants to change, doesn’t want to keep being possessive and hurtful, doesn’t want to steal anyone away anymore. “I won’t stand in your way. I’ll leave if you want me to.”

Stede grabs his arm in a panic, like Ed is about to walk out on him. “Heavens, no, why would I want you to leave?" he asks in genuine distress, and Ed draws him to a soft embrace to calm his nerves. He strokes Stede's back calmingly, his own tears near forgotten from the sudden turning of the tables.

Stede answers his caresses in kind, and continues to speak in a soft, dreamy voice, like he can't believe his luck. "Izzy is free to want whoever he wants, I’m not hurt by it. I understand him completely - you’re an incredible man, Ed, how could he not want you? How could I not want you?” There is nothing but honesty in his voice.

 “But you - you’re in love with Izzy now”, Ed says against Stede's shoulder, confused, overjoyed, but not understanding even a little bit. Still, he believes every single word.

 “A little bit, I suppose”, Stede says with a small chuckle. “And very much in love with you. I don’t expect that to change at any time.”

 “So you’re - you’re in love with both of us?”

Stede leans backwards out of Ed's embrace, only to take his hands and smile excitedly, cheeks dusting with a blush, like he’s thrilled to finally share a good secret,  and nods.

Is... is that allowed?

Oh. In some cases it is - there’s an example right under his nose. Lucius has most of the crew in his circle, one way or another, and none of them seem to mind.

But it’s also Lucius. He must be a special case. Even if Ed finds himself quickly warming up to the idea of having both Stede and Izzy, and more importantly to Stede having both Ed and Izzy, he's not really... sure. And - and Stede is a gentleman, surely he wouldn’t... But even he has feelings, nothing you can do about those.

Unfortunately.

 "You... you want to be with both of us?"

Stede blushes further, and his smile is so delighted. He’s shivering with emotion, so happy to finally speak about this, to reveal his feelings.

 “I would, very much, I’d like that. Would you like that?”

 "It's a bit of an unorthodox arrangement."

 "We're pirates, what's orthodox about us?"

God damn, if Stede isn't making all sorts of sense there. Ed's face flushes, imagining all sorts of scenarios. All three of them together. Sharing not only a table. And not just the sex stuff - Stede taking care of Izzy, looking at him with fondness, touching him casually - in retrospect, now that Ed imagines it doesn't have to mean being left behind... It warms him, excites him.

 "You’d be good for him. You've been good for him”, Ed encourages.

 “Thank you. I hope he thinks the same”, Stede smiles fondly, but then he turns more worried. “I’m really not sure he’d go for it, though. He’s very devoted.” Then he gets that self-conscious look on his face again, the one he makes when he’s about to put himself down. ”And I’m hardly his type, besides. I’m sure it’d make him uncomfortable to ask.”

 “Really seems to me like you’re very much his type”, Ed reassures him, gently lifting his chin to look him in the eye. “You’ve met him - you know Izzy doesn’t bother hiding his dislikes. But he keeps talking to you. He taught you knots. He leaned his head on your shoulder tonight.”

The worry and shame in Stede’s face melts into fondness again. “You are absolutely right, dear. But I just don’t know if he likes me enough to - break his vows, so to speak. He’s made it very clear he chooses one person and sticks to his choice no matter what. And he’s rather proud of it.”

Eh, if his experimenting with Lucius is anything to go by, Iz is already swallowing his pride on that front.

 “The heart wants what it wants, right? He’ll have a hard time resisting if we’re all fine with it. Or more than fine.”

Stede thinks thunderously, desperately wanting to confess his feelings, but worried about getting his heart trampled. They both know Izzy wouldn’t be nice about rejecting Stede, even if they’re getting along well these days. It’s just part of Izzy’s personality - making sure every blow hits the worst it possibly can, sometimes at his own expense.

 “All this uncertainty is tearing me apart “, Stede mourns, sinking back to Ed's arms for comfort. “Why can’t he make the first move like you?”

Ed kisses the top of his head. He’s sure Stede actually knows the answer, but sometimes it’s okay to state the obvious. “Because he’s even more terrified of rejection than you. You would ease his mind.”

 “You truly think so?”

 “Trust me. I’m kind of an expert on Izzy.” (youre really not tho)

Stede draws a deep breath, then clasps his hands together in a determined gesture, a shaky smile rising to his lips, still concerned about how it will go.  “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Ed kisses him. “Go get him, tiger.”

“Tomorrow. But I promise I’ll do it. I just need to - rehearse.”

Ed chuckles at his completely unnecessary fretting. “I can be your practice partner. Hit me with your best shots, Romeo.”

[graveyard-darlingg]

Runes are a bit more fickle. Harder to read for me, because I toss them, I don't draw three.

I mix my pendulum and my tarot deck a lot (asking "is this all the cards?" "are they the right orientation?" things like that!!) It's gotten to a point where I hold up my deck/pendulum to my friends and my beloved stalker Galaxy and go "everyone say hi" and they DO. (Bless them, I love them.)

I'd love to learn to read dice!! And palms!! Dice because I also play D&D and have a. Small hoard. Palms because I like to kiss the hands and I wanna read the hands and then kiss the inner palm. 🥺

I enjoy making little charms for my friends!! I made a spell for a coworker once, a love spell. Just to attract someone who would be a really good match for her, it would be up to her to make a move. Last I heard, it was the best man she's ever met, they moved in together, and she keeps it in an "important" box. I have many urges to give my Galaxy little charms like that -

Do you do anything like that, or do you just dive into divination? Are you looking into any other types of divination? I'm so happy we can talk about this!!

- Galaxy's Darling

OMG PALMISTRY I LOVE PALMISTRY SM. i started learning it awhile ago and totally forgot about it :00 that’s so cool!! how knowledgeable are you in palmistry? also,, it’s so cool that you know how to read runes!! i like that you mix your deck and a pendulum for more accurate reading!! that’s super smart!

i didn’t know dice reading was a thing! that’s so cool! how does that work? also,, it’s so cool that you’re able to do successful spells and charms and such! i started learning the fundamentals of spell work so if you’re able to give me any tips please do!! also,, i’m so happy for your coworker!! that’s super super awesome!

i read tarot and i’ve started dabbling in pendulum reading. i use a ouija board on occasion when i have someone i can trust with me — i enjoy doing the estes method a lot. i always make sure to be super safe about it! i mentioned earlier that i started learning palmistry awhile back but it’s been YEARS so i’ve forgotten everything i’ve learned. i do some warding and sigils but i can never tell if they actually work. i do some cleansing and protection stuff too! i used to have a big notebook with a bunch of the associations of herbs and plants, as well as a book of shadows, but when my ex and i broke up, i had to leave everything behind so im starting from scratch.

i want to learn tasseomancy and bone throwing, as well as pyromancy, runes, palmistry, and i want to be able to cast successful spells. i think charms would be cool to learn too! i fell out of my religion awhile ago, but ive slowly been getting back into it.

i’m so so so glad i have someone to talk to about this !! this is so cool :00 what about you? is there anything you want to learn/dabble in?

[fizzywashere87]

*read your response with a wry grin, and shakes my head with a slow chuckle*

Now I reckon it might be the fact that I’m somewhat of an old fart, but this was a trip to read little lady *affectionately* I fear I may be more outta the loop that I expected, but I appreciate the sentiments nonetheless.

*lowers hat over eyes with a small smirk*

I’m glad you like the hat, I kinda like it too. Helps with the whole anonymous factor and what not, so while I accept your invitation to be your friend, I will do so from a distance. I do enjoy a good mystery myself every once in a while.

As for the main character moment, well Hon who are you not to be your own MC? This is your story ain’t it? You adventure in the making, so don’t be afraid to write it. *shrugs casually and folds arms nonchalantly*

I’m nobody but a simple anon who lives by the phrase, “If you see something, say something.” I think it’s a down right shame that we often left fear get in the way of giving folks the love and validation so many of us often see. And I try to follow the wise words of Ghandi, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” So here I am, doing what I can.

The world can hate for no reason, so why can’t I love for no reason? You don’t need to be something or someone special to be loved and appreciated, hon. You matter and are important simply by the mere fact you exist. Don’t forget that 🧡

*tips hat at you again before sauntering back out*

wry is a funny word 😚

i'm glad my wack ass grammar and way of responding to the last one gave you a stroke!! 🥰 /pos

love that for you preppy lil baddie 🎀

are you implying that you're crazy? because like kinda same or is it my language that makes you question your existence? 🤯

hehe ur like uber mysterious its so preppy!! either way new moot- your name is 🧡 because that's the only thing you gave me- plus i like orange so yippee 🥳

OMGIE?! WHY IS THAT LIKE- it's my story guys we can have the ex lover everyone hates the best friends and the dog

look et the lil guy he's a little baller ⛹️- give him respect he's better than uhm everyone he mogs everyone 👍

that's a good phrase but you're not just an anon i don't need to know which fucker on here you are to know you're so much more, genuinely though i rlly don't know how there was much to see here but im so happy there's people like you who can look into small things like this blog and make something out from it 🫶

ion know wtf "left gear" means but it threw me off when you said down right and then proceeded to say left- (rlly had to point that out 😔🤚)

bestie i bet you looked up who said that quote to be mysterious and like wise old person type shit i caught you!! 😁🫵

why are you being so nice tho? i'm rude asf some times- and how do you somehow like tell me every thing i probably should hear?

you're important too babes without people like you everyone would be defected fetuses 🤚

that was outta pocket i'm sorry.

how tf did you come in clutch when i was like failing at life tho- uhm thank you 🫶

can i have a cool hat too?- im kinda jealous of you /not actually bc you own and rock the hat

also keep coming into my inbox you said we're friends so we're friends now 🥰

they don't have to be super cute and sweet and wholesome messages that i go about slightly like nonchalant but they make me smile every time i get them (2 but i think abt it a lot)

love you tons new anon moot

also i heavily appreciate the validation from someone probably older than me- you seem like you're at least old enough to vote so ill take it either way🫶🥰🫶🥰🫶🥰🫶

i genuinely hope to see you in my inbox often, you can sign with 🧡 unless you want a diff emoji i'll probably know it's you

HAHA I DIDNT CRY THIS TIME 😛🖕

[my-quick-writings-since2023]

A Christmas Miracle pt.1

This year, Christmas needed a real miracle to happen. My older brother, Mikey was out of state sorting out issues with his ex girlfriend, mum and dad are on the verge of a divorce, and grandpa wasn’t taking grandmas’ recent passing too lightly. Kiera was in the hospital after her first round of chemo, and aunt Sue was in jail for tax fraud. Our family was falling apart right before Christmas, and it felt like it was only me and my baby sister, Tina, were the only two sane enough to spend a day or two with the entire family, not that it was possible.

Finally, Christmas Eve rolled around, and I was going to take Tina for a stroll to get out of the house because mum and dad were screaming at each other again. It’s sad, really. They had Tina to hopefully fix their marriage, but clearly their stupid plan didn’t work anyway. I wasn’t mad, I love Tina and her company. I just wish I didn’t have to play the roll of both parents for her. After an hour of pushing Tina in her pram, we reached the park, and I let her go play in the sandbox nearby. Sitting on a park bench, I changed my gaze in between the webcomic I was reading and Tina every few seconds.

I finished my webcomic and decided to play with Tina in the sandbox before we left, but as I was getting up, I heard my name called. “Mary, is that you?” I turned around to see Marco, my best friend. “Oh hey, Marco! Fancy seeing you here,” I stated, “I thought your family left for the holidays?” He looked down before whispering, “Yeah, we were gonna, but then papa had an accident and needed to go hospital.” There was a pause. “He’s okay now though, just no travelling, doctors orders. We had to cancel our flights and reservations, but that’s okay, because I can spend my time with you!” I smiled, “Yeah. Oh have you met my baby sister, Tina, yet.” I pointed to the sandbox where Tina was. Marco was silent, but his face lit up. He loved being around kids, in fact he wanted to be a teacher when he grew up. A few minutes shot by before I checked the time, “Gosh we’ve been here for a while, I aught to go home. Merry Christmas, Marco!” He smiled and waved as I took Tina and put her in her pram, “Merry Christmas to you too, Mary.” I waved goodbye before rushing home. Hopefully things had cooled down between mum and dad.

As I turned the corner to see my house, my face lit up with surprise. Mikeys’ car was in the driveway. “Tina, Mickey’s home! It’s not just us now.” Tina giggled. I could tell she loved Mikey. I picked up the pace, but slowed down when I heard Mikeys’ voice screaming at Dad, when suddenly a cop car and ambo van rushed past me and pulled into the driveway. Now I was scared. I brought Tina to the door, the authorities were already inside, so I slipped past them into my room, where I put Tina down for a nap before going out to check what was happening, but Mikey was standing at the end of the hallway. The last cop tipped his hat and Mikey and I nodded back.

After the door shut, and the vehicles had left, Mikey pulled me in for a hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to stop this, I- I’m sorry.” He hugged me tighter and I pat his back to comfort him. “Tell me what happened, I’m 14, I can handle the truth.” He pushed me away gently to end the hug, and he seemed really hesitant for the tough 21 year old guy I knew him as. “I um, dad uh- dad knocked mum out when I got here. Miya was okay with what we planned, so I came back and as I walked through the door, dad had just knocked mum clean out. So I called the cops, confronted him, and then yeah, you saw the rest.” He looked so upset. “What are we going to do, Mary?” I thought. Finally, I said something. “You did the right thing, Mikey, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen. All we gotta do, is trust that something good will happen, and trust each other to look after ourselves.” Mikey nodded, and we prepared something for us to eat, and made something Tina would enjoy, then went to bed.

I lay awake staring at the roof. It’s been hours since I went to bed. I look over at my phone, 11:46 pm. I just want to sleep but I’m in a messed up family that can’t keep their morals the same. Maybe if I just pray, close my eyes and pray for a miracle. A miracle that it will all work out for our family in the end. Just gotta pray and believe and- I fell asleep, dreaming of Christmas 6 years ago, when I was 8, and the world wasn’t so screwed up. I dreamed of the family going to church as a whole, the big Christmas dinner at the end of the day. The happy cheers and laughter from my brother, cousin and myself as we played with our new toys together, with not a care in the world…

(part 2 coming really soon!)