#considering the fact that he definitely spent a lot of time sailing on ships + the fucking. pole vault up a cliff

[lanliingwang]

there's a couple of fanartists on Twitter that draw Fate/SR Zheng Chenggong as noticeably muscular and I just want to say...yeah. they get it.

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter XXXI ''Command''

Chapter XXXII ''Dragonstone''

This should have been their last day in Meereen. Tomorrow morning everything should be ready to sail and in about three months they will be on Dragonstone. A lot of time, but considering that she spent over four years in Essos, a few months doesn't seem that long anymore.

She has never seen anything in Westeros other than Casterly Rock and King's Landing, and soon she will finally have the opportunity to see her own lands. She wonders what they look like... She always wanted to see the Eyrie, or Highgarden and all its gardens... Or Winterfell, apparently it's huge, much bigger than the Red Keep and second only to Harrenhal. Tyrion told her that the castle made an impression on him and when he heard about the fire he was even sad and somewhere he hoped that they would rebuild what was destroyed.

She stood on the balcony and watched the sunset, this is the last time she can admire it here. She had the feeling that she didn't want to leave this place, these people, these views. Everything has become so peaceful lately, it's hard to leave these lands and go into the unknown, not knowing what awaits you. She won here, but will she win there too? This was what she feared the most, the unknown. It wasn't even about gaining the throne, it was a symbol, nothing more. She wouldn't want to get it if it didn't mean so much to people, if they didn't think a ruler must sit on the Iron Throne in King's Landing.

These are problems of the not so distant future, and now she will have to face one more thing... Telling Daario that he is staying in Essos. She put it off because she didn't want to break his heart and... And at the same time, she selfishly didn't want to deprive herself of the warmth of his arms when he hugged her. Now she can't escape it.

"Your ships are almost ready." she didn't want to take her eyes off the city, but she had to make things clear. She took the goblet of wine from the railing and returned into the room, where she set it on the table. "I saw that they were finishing painting the sails, they will definitely be done by tomorrow."

"That's good." she replied, forcing a smile. She went to sit on the couch, put her hands on her knees and started playing with her fingers.

"I wonder how the Dothraki will cope with 'poisonous water.' And then-"

"You're not coming with us." she interrupted him before she chickened out again, there was no time to put things off.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment before Daario moved closer to her and stopped in front of the couch. She could tell she surprised him with that statement, but it seemed like he didn't understand it like he should have.

Or he didn't want to understand it.

"New strategy? Second Sons will attack from the west, will we surprise them? We will take Casterly Rock and the Lannisters will remain isolated in King's Landing." he sat down next to her and grabbed her hand gently to stop her from playing with her fingers. He sensed something was wrong, but thought she was just stressed about the travel.

"Good idea." she forced herself to smile again, it was visible in her eyes. "But you're staying here. You're not sailing to Westeros."

As she crushed it out, a stone got off of her chest, but was immediately replaced by another one, caused by the fact that she clearly hurt Daario.

"But...Visenya-"

"There is finally peace in Meereen." she interrupted him, leaning out of the couch to reach for a goblet of wine and handed it to him as if it would ease his pain. "I want you and Second Sons to make sure it lasts. You will rule in my name..."

"Fuck Meereen."

"Don't say that, we have to take care of this city. And I have one more request for you: End slavery in Lys and Volantis, the last cities where it still exists. If-"

"I'm here for you, not for them." he interrupted her, not accepting the cup, which she kept holding out towards him. He got off the couch and knelt on the ground in front of her. Finally, resigned, she put the goblet back on the table. "I love you, I want to serve you, kill your enemies, give you what you want..." he sighed in frustration.

"I want to destroy slavery, completely. And you swore to me." she noticed. "So I order you to stay in Essos."

She saw that her words did not satisfy him in any way, and that was not what they were intended to do. She was supposed to be honest, not comfort him. She couldn't treat it like her relationship with Jaime, because she didn't feel anything towards him, it was easy to reject him and run away, start a new life. Daario she didn't want to abandon, she liked him, a lot. Maybe it wasn't love, but leaving a friend is never easy. Especially since it was with him that she shared the first intimate moments of her life and will never forget it.

"If I want to rule Westeros, I must make alliances. And we all know that the best way to do that is through marriage." she explained calmly when he still didn't get up from the ground and held her hand.

He sighed and then asked:

"Who are you marrying this time?"

"I don't know yet, but for someone for sure." she shrugged. Involuntarily, she raised her hand and plunged it into his hair, combing it as if it would calm him down.

"You are the Queen, not a prize for the highest bidder." her hand froze in his hair when he said that, and mostly because he was right. Unfortunately, the reality was different, she couldn't fight the whole world alone, she had to secure alliances. She has already seen what it is like to rule without the support of the strong, influential and rich. She won't let that happen again.

Her word was final, but she still felt the need to explain her decision and do it in a way that he no longer questioned it, accepted it.

"I can't sail to Westeros with my lover." she finally said, the last argument she had left.

"The king wouldn't think twice about it, he would just do it."

"The king doesn't worry about illegitimate children." she replied. "He will deny they're his and the matter will be over. I can't do that, my heir must be legitimate, otherwise the Lords won't accept him."

"Then screw the Lords." If only it were that simple... "I don't care who you have children with, who sits next to you in the throne room. I only want you, I love you, do you understand?"

She doesn't understand. She would like to, but she doesn't understand. She doesn't know what it's like to love someone so much that you can't live without him. She doesn't know what it's like to be rejected by a loved one. She can only feel sorry for him, but her decision remains unchanged.

Besides, she's waiting to meet this mysterious boy...

"Is that what you would like? Be my mistress?"

"I'm not proud of it, but... I only care about being with you. Seeing you every day, making you smile. I make you happy, I know it, you do too." she looked down, but not for long, because Daario took her chin and lifted it. "Let me go with you, fight for you."

She moved her hand from his hair to his cheek, caressing it gently before leaning in and placing a kiss on his lips. She tried to pour into it everything she felt and wanted to say, but couldn't find the right words. She wanted to give him this one more moment, hoping that it would be like a balm to his heart, and not a knife that would only deepen the wounds.

"This isn't goodbye." she whispered once she had pulled away. "We'll see each other again, I promise. Until then, we will exchange letters."

He didn't say anything. The silence was worse for her than if he continued arguing with her, or even shouting, crying, whatever. Because this silence was more eloquent than all the words in the world.

He let go of her hand and stood up. He took a step back and finally reached for the wine she had offered him earlier. He drank it all at once.

"You will get the throne you want so much, I'm sure of it. I wish I could see it." it hurt. "But I won't betray you, ever. I will do everything you wish. I hope you won't forget about me." he gave her a forced smile, she saw it. "I will wait, Visenya Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, of the Great Grass Sea, of Dragon's Bay and my heart." after these words, he bowed slightly to her and quickly walked out, leaving her alone in this large room.

It's strange, she didn't feel lonely here before, and now the emptiness is tearing her apart.

She was supposed to talk to Tyrion that same evening, but she was unable to sit still in her chamber. Instead, she wandered the corridors of the Great Pyramid for a long time before finally finding herself in the audience chamber where she had spent so much time over the last two - or so - years. She was sitting on the stone steps, with a window behind her and a jug of wine and an empty goblet next to her. She didn't even like the taste of it, but at least she didn't feel so alone.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she looked up and saw that it was Tyrion who had come to her. Apparently he was fed up with waiting and decided to look for her.

"Sorry, I had to... Be alone for a while." she said, even a little too loud, because her voice echoed throughout the entire room.

Tyrion just nodded and sat down next to her, taking the jug in his hands and drinking straight from it, not bothering to go get the goblet or take hers. They sat like that in silence for a while, before Vis gathered herself to say why she felt that way and started talking.

"I left a man who loves me so much that he would do anything for me. And you know what I feel? Emptiness." she wasn't looking at him, but somewhere ahead.

It was strange for her, no heartbreak, no tears, just... Emptiness. Something that was pulling her down, that brought dark clouds over her.

"A good ruler sometimes has to sacrifice something." she didn't answer, but she took the jug from him and drank a little herself, also not bothering about pouring herself to a goblet. After one sip, she set it aside, but on the other side, so Tyrion wouldn't reach for it again. They can't get drunk here, their journey begins in the morning, and she still needs to discuss one thing with him. "He wasn't the first or the last to love you."

"Do you think Jaime..." the words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them.

It seems since she ran away it must have been at the back of her head: Wondering if Jaime really loved her. And now there was the question of whether she had hurt him as much as she hurt Daario. What must he have felt when she pushed him away while they were kissing?

Well, the cold water certainly quickly cooled his enthusiasm.

"Yes." Tyrion replied, guessing what she wanted to ask. "You could compete with Cersei, your hair is blonde enough." he managed to make her laugh a little, because she smiled, lowering her head a bit. Tyrion himself laughed briefly as well. He didn't blame her for what she did because she did it to escape. It was nice to see this girl happy and not constantly depressed at Casterly Rock or King's Landing. "He would treat you well." he added when the amusement had subsided.

"But I wouldn't be happy." she quickly retorted. He didn't dare to argue with this statement.

"So it's finally happening." Tyrion decided to change the subject. "The girl who had nothing but a name has her own army, fleet and four dragons. Everything you could want after escaping. Enough to subjugate a continent. How do you feel with it?"

For a moment she considered whether she should answer honestly. After all, the truth was that she was afraid, afraid as hell. When the idea of ​​returning to her home lands was distant, she longed for it. Then she found a purpose in her life: Changing the world. But this only postponed her return to Westeros. She could lead the campaign to Lys and Volantis herself, but it would take months or even years. And now that she had allies ready to support her claim to the crown, she couldn't delay. If she was alone and had to build ships, she would go to these two cities in person. But one day she will see them. She will see the whole world that she is so curious about, all the places she has always dreamed of seeing.

She decided not to lie.

"I'm afraid."

I'm afraid of war, I'm afraid of death, I'm afraid of how much I might lose. I'm afraid of letting people down. I'm afraid I'll fail. I'm afraid it will all be in vain. I'm afraid that I'm not good enough, that it will turn out that I'm not suitable for the role I aspire to. I don't even realize how many things I'm afraid of, because I keep pushing these fears deep inside myself, not wanting to show weakness. This admission brought them all to the surface.

"Good." surprised, she finally looked at her interlocutor for the first time since he sat next to her. "You're in the great game now, and great game is terrifying. Only a madman like the Mad King wouldn't have doubts and fear of losing."

"What if I lose?" she asked quietly, almost in a whisper.

"You will die. And everyone who follows you too."

She shuddered, although she tried to hide it. Knowing how much there was to lose chilled her blood and motivated her to act. I cannot fail. I just can't.

"That's why I can't lose." she got up from the steps, Tyrion did it right after her. Vis finally decided to bring up the matter why she wanted to see him. "I need all the help I can get. From you too."

"I would offer you my sword, but... I don't have one."

She smiled, like she did when he joked about his brother's preferences. It was kind of cute that he wanted to fight for her, considering she will be fighting against his family.

"I have enough people to fight. I need something else from you." she reached into the small pocket behind the neckline of her dress and took out a pin, which she was still hiding from his sight. She wasn't sure about this decision yet, but she thought that everything will be revealed in time. "I had it made basing on what I remember... If you ever have any doubts, decide that you no longer want to serve me, that you are not able to fight against your family, you can resign. I will give you a horse or a ship and enough food and money to get you wherever you wish to go." he didn't say anything. He already guessed what was going on, even though he was surprised by such a move. She reached out to him and pinned the mark of the Hand of the King on his chest. "But for now... Tyrion Lannister, I name you Hand of the Queen."

Still slightly shocked, he knelt down on one knee in front of her and bowed his head. Apart from the fact that he did not expect that she would entrust him with such an important position, he had never encountered a ruler who would allow someone not to accept the honor. Moreover, you can resign at any time without telling a reason.

He will help this girl. He will do everything in his power to help her sit on the Iron Throne, because he has never met anyone in his life who deserved it more than her.

"It's an honor, my Queen. I won't betray your trust."

* * *

In the morning she stood before boarding the ship that would take her to Westeros. She was about to set foot on the ramp, but hesitated. She turned her head and looked out to sea and the multitude of other ships, under the colors of the Tyrells, Martells, and Greyjoys as well. Once she gets on board everything will change, there will be no turning back. The waves will carry them to lands that were once nothing but pain to her. Now she thought of them as a homecoming.

"Something's wrong?" she turned abruptly to ser Arthur, standing on her right.

"Nothing, just..." she stopped and looked out at the sea again. "Four years ago I left King's Landing on a similar boat. Back then I had nothing, I didn't think I could achieve anything. I ran away because I wanted to be free... And now I'm going back there, with my ships, with my army and my dragons. Sounds like a dream." she smiled, but then jumped when she unexpectedly felt a pinch on her hand. "Ouch!"

"You're definitely not dreaming this." he smiled and shrugged.

"Did you pinch my father like that too?" she muttered, pretending to be offended.

"Many times, he was very fond of talking about dreams. He only stepped on the ground when necessary."

She rolled her eyes and glanced, this time at the city she was leaving behind. For the entire continent she is leaving. Her life had changed a lot since she left, but she didn't regret taking that step. It is possible that she is the last of her kind and she will certainly not allow her to fade into oblivion in the depths of history. She left her mark forever here, in Essos, and now it's time to do the same in Westeros.

"This way, my Queen." ser Arthur pointed her to the ramp and smiled encouragingly. When she asked him one last, silent question, he only nodded.

Selaria, Daenerys, Ser Barristan, you will be proud of me.

With that in mind, she confidently placed her foot on the ramp and entered the ship, where Tyrion, Missandei, and Varys were already waiting for her.

* * *

First, a simple, black, cotton shirt. Then the pants, reaching to the waist and emphasizing it. Then high-heeled shoes, which she tied while sitting on her bunk in her cabin. When she was finished, she stood up and reached for something that she had ordered to be done before sailing to Westeros, when she decided that she needed more practical clothes, and warmer ones. It resembled a coat, the one with buttons on the inside so they weren't visible. She smoothed out the fabric that reached about her knees. Then she adjusted the long sleeves, similar to those on the gowns she wore in Meereen. All she had left to wear was a few rings and a hair ornament, a pin with three dragon heads facing back to back. She put it in the braids at the back of her head and was ready to go.

"It uuits you." Missandei smiled at her, she was waiting for Visenya outside the door.

"It suits you too." she returned the compliment. "Do we have anything planned for today?"

"Yes, dis-"

"Dragonstone on the horizon!" they were interrupted by a shout from the deck.

Visenya didn't give Missandei a chance to repeat herself. An excitement that she hadn't even expected washed over her. She ran up the stairs to the deck of the ship and quickly walked to the bow. The crew were shouting something to each other, but she didn't pay attention to it. It was morning, she and Missandei were the first to go on deck, and from the excitement that appeared among the people, it could be concluded that it was about to get crowded.

In the distance, they could actually see their destination, Dragonstone. Hundreds of years ago, this was where her ancestors stayed when they fled Old Valyria. Now she will live here, at least for a while.

She was so absorbed that she didn't even notice that others had also appeared on board, including Tyrion, who stood on her right.

"Welcome home, Your Majesty."

She didn't count how much time had passed between the moment she saw land and when she stood on the jolly boat. The dragons flew over their heads, heading straight for the castle and flying around it. From this distance she couldn't see its full beauty yet, but she already knew it is extraordinary. She felt it.

The boat reached the shore. She waited impatiently for the steps to be placed so she could finally set foot on land. Of course, she was the first to leave and took quite large steps towards the castle. At some point, however, she stopped, looking up at the huge building. With a sigh, she crouched down, resting her hands on her knees, and then moved one of them to the wet sand.

When she sailed here, she thought that she was sailing home, that she would finally find a place for herself in the world, after all, no matter how you look at it, this is also her family home. How many people passed through these lands? When her ancestors came to this shore, it was an empty island, nothing special. And yet they chose this place as their home. She lifted her hand from the sand and ran the grains between her fingers, thinking about this new chapter that was beginning in her life. She is responsible for thousands of lives, she cannot fail them.

Hearing the screech of the dragons, she looked up back at the path in front of her. She has decided to walk on it, there is no turning back. Enough of hesitating, enough of dreaming about the future, it's time to start building it.

She stood up, dusting off her hands, and confidently moved forward. She breathed deeply, calming her heartbeat.

The first steps led to a gate, a great gate. At the ground on both sides it was surrounded by sculptures of dragon heads, and at the top their entire figures. The two Unsullied went to open the passage for her while she focused on admiring the walls, which were already very ornate in themselves.

She didn't even notice that her closest companions were following her. She felt as if she were exploring this castle herself, as if its beauty was reserved only for her. Behind the gate, there were even more stairs waiting for them, but the beauty of the castle finally became visible. The gates looked like dragon heads and the towers were topped with figures of these beasts. The building definitely looked like the seat of a family with a dragon as its sigil.

She took two steps at a time to get inside as quickly as possible. Even there, the details in the decoration were taken care of, even though the interior was not rich in small decorations, like the Red Keep. The door handles resembled dragons, and the entire door looked as if it was covered with dragon scales.

The only thing she didn't like was the Stannis Baratheon's banner hanging inside. She grabbed the fabric and pulled it down hard, throwing it to the ground. This place would never be anyone's other than her family's again. If she is the last of her house, then let it be deserted, but let no one defile it with their sigils.

After passing through several corridors, with the sound of her heels echoing first and others following behind her, they finally stopped in front of a door where stood a throne carved into the rock. Once upon a time, the heirs to the throne resided in this castle, they were titled Prince of Dragonstone and this throne was for them. Her parents also once lived here, so she would probably have been born here if it weren't for the war.

Thinking about being here and actually being within these walls were two different things. She didn't expect that this place would make such an impression on her, that it would make her think about all her ancestors, especially the most famous ones: Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys. She is the first Visenya since the Conquest, and the second woman to claim the Iron Throne.

Rhaenyra failed to go down in history as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, even though she deserved it. It didn't make her feel optimistic, but times had changed. Rhaenyra fought against her brother, both sides had dragons, the kingdoms were divided. She is the only person in the world who has dragons. There is no male member of House Targaryen to challenge her claim to the throne.

This is how I will go down in the pages of history, right next to the Breaker of Chains - she thought, entering the large room with the throne.

The chambers needed cleaning, of course, but that's not a problem, she has enough people to do it in one day, at least the most important rooms. She didn't know the exact layout of the castle, only what she remembered from the notes in the books, but there should be another room here, just above the cliff...

She climbed the stairs almost to the throne and looked around for a passage. It was to the left, and she immediately directed her steps that way. This chamber was smaller, but no less important. A bas-relief of a dragon decorated the wall, and the main thing that took up almost the entire space was a table.

But not just any ordinary wooden table... Made of stone, in the shape of Westeros, with all the most important castles, rivers, forests and mountains carved into it. There were even figurines on it and three chairs pushed aside. Everything was dusty, left to its fate at some point. She moved to the very end of the table, her eyes wandering over the places marked on the map. This is where they will plan their next steps, where to fight the battle, and how to transport the troops.

She rested her hands on the stone table and raised her head, looking at her companions who had come here with her.

"Let's begin." she said, interrupting the sound of waves crashing on the cliffs behind her.

~

-> Chapter XXXIII ''Dārilaros'' -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist

[thedadkraken]

Dalton knew it was more likely a coincidence, but he liked to think his mother was the one to push her father from the bridge to his death. After killing eight salt wives during his lifetime, the fact that he was killed by his stone wife sounded poetic.

—Celebrating death isn't considerate but it's definitely fun, every year we do a little party back on Pyke or with the Stonetrees in honor of a life without him. Officially we celebrate my lordship, or something like that.

Dalton noticed a subtle shift in the boat's trajectory, he turned around and noticed Cerelle was probably returning them to King's Landing. He wasn't going to complain about not going to Dragonstone, Dalton visited the island a long time ago alongside his uncle; his curiosity already was satisfied.

—I'm pretty sure you are better than you think. Your competition is a literal corpse. You cannot be worse than a King that spent half his reign ignoring his kingdom and the other half too sick to even ignore it. Honestly, your father is incredibly useless as a King. So, no Aegon, shut up.

Dalton didn't know where his hatred for the King came from, probably because it was the closest figure of authority that Dalton could blame for his father's actions. « Protector of the Realm he calls himself. He has never protected shit. »

—You know, I may have stolen some red wine from the Redwynes on my way here and I'm in terrible need of hiding. I have a lot of in-laws who hate me. Some accuse me of kidnapping their daughters; which I didn't, I understand why people could think that, but no one ever considered that green men are such assholes that I became a good option.

Dalton rested his body on the ship's paling.

—But if I'm honest with you... sometimes not even I know where some my wives come from. Okay, it only happened twice but still... One day I'm sailing on the open sea and suddenly see there's a new woman on the crew and have no fucking idea where she came from. Not kidnapped. Just there. I never have the heart to kick them out so people start counting them as salt wives and I'm not sure how to stop it.

King's Landing, 129 AC

With: @goldaegontargaryen

Every second at land felt wrong. Dalton was allergic to staying away from the sea, his heart desired the cold wind and the waves every second he wasn't on his ship.

So, it was no mystery that he would spend all his free time at the docks of King's Landing. He was counting the days so the King would finally die so he could leave the city and go back into the sea.

King's Landing probably had a lot of things to offer; his silk street was one Dalton was determined to ignore; he knew better than to infuriate his wives. The Red Keep was a labyrinth he didn't know how to solve and he wasn't planning on getting lost.

So he took his kids to the docks and made sure the fifteen ships that arrived from the Iron Islands were in proper condition. He counted all the merchandise they got from Lys... and Dorne.

While he was counting how much wine they managed to acquire, he realized his children were fighting.

Or better said, they were bullying Rodrick, who failed to sail his ship twice during their journey to King's Landing.

Dalton let the fight unfold, he knew his second son had different talents that the Iron Islands didn't really care about. Dalton worried Rodrick wouldn't fit in the islands and he especially feared his son would end up as a maester.

So he truly needed to turn his son into a true ironborn. But after so many years Dalton was soon to surrender.

— If you think sailing so easy why don't you teach someone who knows nothing and see it is difficult for some of us! — Rodrick finally screamed at his siblings. — Come on, pick someone from the docks!

Dalton looked out towards the port and found a hooded figure that seemed like the perfect victim for his kids experiment.

—Hey! You! Yes, the one with the incredibly suspicious hood! Do you know how to sail?

[halveablock]

your latest comic really got to me. I didn't expect to see any stsg/kenjaku art, especially from such an amazing artist.

I was thinking.. gojo seeing geto in that moment was probably just his own delusion (his dreams merging with reality), but maybe it could also be kenjaku manipulating that "cursed realm" in order to make gojo see what they want him to see? considering that kenjaku can navigate that in-between space, maybe they can also influence it 🤔

would you mind sharing your thought process? (and maybe your thoughts on the stsg/kenjaku thing in general, if you want. it's such a flavorful ship, it needs more attention)

thank you so much for enjoying the comic! and being a fellow stsg/kenjaku enjoyer.

my thoughts under the cut, because i have too many thoughts about this dynamic.

i didn’t really have much AU thoughts around that comic other than brainrotting hard over kenjaku handholding scene and playing around with the concept of “space between reality and dream is a curse” + “love is the most twisted curse” = “space between reality and dream is love, which is the most twisted curse.” therefore gojo in the cursed realm seeing the part of his life he probably most longs for, which is his youth before geto’s defection, all of that represented as high school geto projected onto kenjaku. but with kenjaku definitely playing a role in how they appear in the “cursed realm” (i know that’s a fanscan translation, so not sure how accurate it is) to gojo.

stsg/kenjaku thoughts in general....... this baby can pack so many dynamics LOL. i love it a lot. stsg by itself is amazing already but adding kenjaku to the mix is just. exquisite. in fact kenjaku is the reason i was completely sold on stsg in the first place since i wasn’t so intrigued with stsg until chapter 90 with the brain reveal, and getting to know more and more about kenjaku in subsequent chapters cemented my love of this weird threesome relationship (i love weird threesome relationships). and why i want to explore this dynamic more in a sequel to continuum comic if i ever get to that.

but here’s some rambly reasons i really like this dynamic:

kenjaku has spent ~1000 years planning how to kill/subdue six eyes users. every time kenjaku fails they must spend another 500 years waiting due to the limited time window they have for killing a star plasma vessel. imagine the level of spite, the level of obsession you must have for a particular thing in order to devise a plan and keep at it for 1000 years. that particular thing being a six eyes user aka one gojo satoru.

once kenjaku seals gojo, their 1000 years of planning come to full fruition, everything is smooth sailing. hating a six eyes user for being the biggest obstacle, but loving them for ultimately being the reason for their success. look at how much kenjaku was gloating and their extreme display of emotion in chapter 90 compared to how calm they are in other scenes! love and hate being two sides of the same coin is very much true here.

GOJO KILLED GETO!!!! he SUPER killed geto and geto was super dead and gojo could not get rid of geto’s body even with a technique that can literally erase space!!!!! and my fav hc is that kenjaku knew that this would happen, that they counted on geto to die, then gojo would not be able to get rid of his body. kenjaku having Watched Them From Afar, for years, particularly gojo since he was born.

gojo undoubtedly loving geto in some way, and therefore geto being his only weakness that kenjaku took advantage of. kenjaku taking over geto’s body and therefore knowing gojo intimately the way geto did.

kenjaku taking over geto’s body... therefore there’s the potential of geto’s memories and feelings for gojo influencing kenjaku. there seems to be geto’s soul remaining in parts of his body (expressed in right arm and when geto was presumably trying to distract kenjaku from detecting kyoto students), so mix that in with kenjaku’s own feelings about six eyes users... it’s a Mess.

gojo absolutely hating the shit out of kenjaku because, duh, but also they’re in geto’s body which is now technically alive??dead??in limbo?? so it’s Complicated.

anyway i could. ramble on forever. sorry. but yes i love this dynamic a lot 11/10 delicious

[gloster]

FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2020

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

I know I speak for all when I say....I cannot wait to toss 2020 out the door the way Uncle Phil constantly did with Jazz. One of the things that got me through this rough year, besides family & friends & BTS, were fanfics.

It’s that time of year again where I make a list of all the fanfics that I absolutely adored. Some are by veteran favs of mine, others are new to me who just knocked it out of the park. If you’re interested in past lists, here is 2019′s list and 2018′s. If y’all are interested in doing your own fanfic favs of the year, please do so and tag me. Always on the hunt for new favs. 

So without furhter ado, my fav fanfics of 2020:

1). Another Word for Forever series by stardropdream (sheith)

Summary: Shiro knows better than to expect love in an arranged marriage. This is all for the sake of universal peace, after all, and solidifying a Terran-Galran alliance. At the very least, Shiro can hope to make a friend out of this. Becoming friends would be much easier, though, if he and his husband could actually communicate. 

With a language barrier and a mountain of cultural differences between them, getting to know Keith proves to be a challenge. Luckily, Shiro's always worked well with challenges.

2020 shockingly became the year of sheith. I ended up rewatching the show w/my bestie @littlenightdragon​. Diving more deeply into it w/my other bestie @kila09​. She and I spent the better half of this year devouring so many fanfics of them in various AUs. I came across new fanfic authors, and stardropdream is among them. 

If I could describe this series & stardropdream, I’ll take a cue from Lady Gaga: “ talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it”

This series was just PERFECTION. I’ve gotten into arranged-marriage AUs and this has been one of the best I’ve read. It was just perfection. The language barrier definitely added an extra charm to it, in which Shiro finds his own ways to get to know his husband better: both creative and funny ways. So many cute moments, so many funny moments with Hunk being the translating middle man between them, and the smut. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. THE SMUT. Just *chef’s kiss* Incredible. It was just so so sweet, and such a comfort read. I reread this series 5 times already and hope Robin (the writer) does more stories in this AU.

Please read this series. You’re not gonna regret it. It will MELT your heart. 

Honorable Mentions:

If I Called You Mine

Sail Across the Sky Just to Get to You

Finding Shelter (The Alien Baby Remix)

Say You Do(n’t)

2). The Golden Hour by @goldentruth813​ (sheith)

Summary:  After a space mission failure, Shiro loses his arm and his career. Two years later he's settled into a quiet and simple new life on his farm, but when a beautiful alien crashes in his field, he discovers the answers to his questions—and possibly the keys to his future—will come from the stars.

I’m sure no one, least of all Janel the writer herself, is surprised to see this author featured on this list. For now the 3rd year in a row. WOOOW  👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿 She is the reason I got into shieth, and she just continues to put out amazing conent with them. This story by far has been the best she’s done this year-possibly one of the best ever. 

We have Shiro trying to have a simple life at the farm with his dog and animals. A curious BOM Keith who shakes things up with his boldness/innocence-and questions bound to test blood pressure, especially Shiro’s. Loads of cute moments, loads of funny moments, and also loads of oreos. 

If summary and my thoughts don’t sell you, only one thing will: reading it for yourself.

Honorable mentions:

Two Hearts in Bloom

Mountain Men

Home is in Your Heart

3). Spun like Gold by Neyasochi (sheith)

Summary: Though Shiro is currently operating his fledgling bakery business out of a decrepit food truck he got for cheap in a repossession sale, he dreams of something more: a cozy bakery and cafe on a tree-lined street somewhere, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and sugar glaze instead of diesel. A little money could go a long way to helping him get off the ground-- and luckily, Keith has money to burn.

Or: Keith takes care of Shiro’s financial woes, in exchange for a little sugar.

OMG, OMG, OMG was this story so sweet. Neyasochi already sold me with the baking/baker Shiro trope, but went a step further throwing in sugar-daddy Keith who knows his way around his manic family and cars, but when it comes to asking a cute guy out? What better way to make an impression than becoming his best paying customer?  

Honorable mentions:

oh, devour me

Healing Touch

on your hand of gold 

4). The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora​ (drarry)

Summary: In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

If there’s one thing I love about fanfics is how they introduce you to tropes you never would consider before. Draco and knitting was a combo I didn’t realize how much I needed until now. And I love the fact knitting played a big part of the accidental bonding. Also loved the fact everyone in their friend group shipped them like crazy. Highly, highly recommend 

5) What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd​ (drarry)

Summary: Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

The Quidditch World Cup is only a week away; as Captain of the English National Team, Hermione has assured him that his immaturity won’t be tolerated by the Ministry.

And then Malfoy shows up.

(Inspired by the blink-182 song of the same name.)

It’s no secret that I’m such a fangirl of @lazywonderlvnd​. Any drarry story I read, I always love. Last year, I ADORED The Changing Lights, which was one of my favorites last year, and her updating/finishing the story was a massive highlight for me. I thank ya for that. 

This story was honestly refreshing. I’ve grown so used to Harry being responsible, always doing what’s right, that seeing a story where Harry pretty much has his middle finger in the air to “good reputation”, “being responsible,” because as he brought up: “I’m 25. I’ve been fighting all my life. I’ve earned my life to have fun.”

Okay, granted, it wasn’t quite like that but it was along those lines. And I agree. After all he went through, Harry deserves to have fun. He deserves to be reckless and make stupid decisions.

Also, it was such a blast reading a story where Harry is the brat & Draco has to keep him in line. LOVED.

Honorable mentions: 

Inside Your Mind

Aletheia

6). Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (drarry)

Summary:  When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Do not let the title fool you like it did me. Title alone, I was thinking it was going to be a fun, fluffy story involving baking, maybe chocolate crafting. However....it was not that at all. It was more. A lot deeper. A lot more angsty. It explored mental health, PTSD and the dangers of loved ones ignoring the signs, and contained an important message:

You can’t love someone out of their illness/disease/ addiction. Which is true and this story showed that. 

7). i’m still here by owedbetter (zutara)

Summary: "You see me."

And somehow, that makes all the difference.

If there’s one of the few good things 2020 has brought, it was Netflix bringing back ATLA to their library. Which in turn ignited my love for zutara & had me drag @kila09​ into that ship. 

This story was just incredible. The way it was written, it really felt like it could have been canon. Deleted scenes that a certain creator didn’t want us to see. The way Zuko and Katara came together, starting from their peaceful friendship after the Southern Raiders episode up, becoming closer along the way. 

I dare y’all to read this and not think OMG...is this secret canon bonus material? I definitely plan to read more by owedbetter. 

8). all the what ifs i never said by rosegardenlake (sheith)

Summary:  Keith is nine when he first notices Shiro. Shiro is gentle and quiet, always keeping to himself. Keith is rough and loud, running wherever his feet will take him, screaming on the top of his lungs into the wind. But despite that, they're a constant throughout each other's lives...if only that could be enough. As they grow, Keith just wants them both to be happy, but instead, he's falling apart.

Rosegardenlake is another sheith writer who I adored last year & adore this year as well. This was a story that I read during the beginning of quarantine-life and when I tell you the number of times Keith’s emotions of loneliness got to me, it’s a big number. 

Keith’s struggle with life after high school, after peaking in school, and his mental health reminded me too much of where I was at 2018, which wasn’t a good year for me at all, especially mentally. So that was triggering but it was also helpful since I saw how far I came. And it was beautiful seeing how far Keith came. 

Also the relationship between Shiro and Keith was just beautiful. It’s very funny how Keith was Shiro’s protector growing up and Shiro became Keith’s later on in life. There’s a chance your heart may be heavy, but will also be so swelled up with feelings these two bring it. 

Honorable mentions:

Where the Light Doesn’t Reach 

9). When Night Comes by Oh_Hey_Tae (BTS; poly ot7)

Summary: Jungkook’s tipsy, but he’s not buzzed enough to miss that he doesn’t recognize any of the four dozen people here. And seeing as his friends aren’t ones to ditch and there’s no way they’d play a prank this mean on him, Jungkook reaches the conclusion that he just walked into a stranger’s very expensive home, uninvited, and started eating their food and petting their well-dressed dog.

(Or: Jungkook shows up to the wrong Halloween party and meets the most powerful family in Seoul.)

I can easily say Oh_Hey_Tae easily one of my favorite BTS fanfic favs. Always come through with the stories, and this one was just amazing. We have Jungkook stumbling into a Halloween story, and soon enters into a intense, insane relationship with all six guys, who are already in a relationship with each other. Oh, and supernatural creatures at that. 

You do see certain relationships are stronger, deeper. For example, a lot of moments between Jin and Jungkook. Vmin has their own story and moments. But it was just so amazing. 

Fair warning. Halfway through, things get darker and Oh_My_Tae really loves playing readers diirty with the angst, but it’s so good. 

10). peace-weaver by magisterpavus (sheith)

Summary: You will be the peace-weaver, his mother told him, smiling though her dark eyes welled with unshed grief. The one who brings two bitter enemies together and ends the bloodshed and death between us, once and for all.

But men will always crave war. The Galra, most of all.

Yet another arranged-marriage AU that I loved. This particular one is well-loved in the sheith fandom. I can definitely say it’s considered one of the classic fanfics that’s been read or shared at one point or another. 

The story itself reminded me a lot of Macbeth, involving murder and dark forces at bay. The dynamics between Shiro and Keith reminded me of Drogo and Daenerys from GOT, one of my fav couples there, which only made it all the more better for me. 

I do credit the author for the creative approach they took with quintessence and Shiro’s role/persona as the Champion

Honorable mentions:

The Boy in the Window 

Sheith Demon/Priest AU

A Matter of Scale

Directive 

Honorable mentions that I seriously wanted to add to the list but this post is already lengthy. All amazing, all greats reads by various writers y’all should check out:

Hold Me Tight, or Don’t by snowfallen (yoonmin with a Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU featuring assassins and hitmen, secret identities, fake marriage, and a lot of smut)

The Prince and Pirate by Maniacani, @nerdherderette​ (drarry with a splash of royalty and pirates. Perfect if you’re needing to fill in any Pirates of the Caribbean or Black Sails cravings)

First Kisses are the Best Ones by SashaDistan (sheith in a 50 First Dates Fusion heartfelt/heart-gutting story)

freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1​ (drarry w/Harry explaining the many ways why Draco’s the love of his life. we love to see it)

The Sacrificed by SasuNarufan13 (sasunaru w/ dark fairytale elements similar to Little Red Riding Hood & Beauty and the beast + feat. mpreg)

Chasing Treacle Tart (and Draco Malfoy) by xErised (drarry feat. lunch lady Draco + scheming Harry + loads of fun w/sweets & more)

Red Desert by @beatitudinembty​ (taekook in a unique sci-fi AU; hard to explain but so worth a read

one way ticket to another life by starboykeith (sheith Hades x Persephone background)

Even So by lewilder (zutara; arranged marriage+ language barrier +soft strangers to lovers)

Well, lovely people, there you have it. My top 10 favorite fanfics of the year. I do notice a certain ship shows up a lot on this list, but I wasn’t kidding when I said they took over this year. Still, I tried to mix the list up with other fav ships/fandoms of mine. To the writers who created these incredible stories. I applaud you. I thank you for creating and sharing these wonderful stories. Anyone interested in doing the tag, please do. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, GUYS

[banditthewriter]

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 1

For someone who is taking a break from writing, I sure wrote a lot in a short time frame.

This is a 34.4k word fic broken into 10 parts. It is what I consider to be a “fuck canon” kinda fic so there’s that to enjoy. 

Warning: Slow burn. I’m sorry.

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

One of the largest draws of Nassau was the freedom. There was still poverty and strife, people who fought every day to survive, but the freedom was something that couldn’t be ignored. Women free of societal views that required them to be the property of either their father or their husband. Men free of the shackles of polite society, free to sail the seas and create chaos. 

Freedom did come with a price though. The pirates ruled the seas and demanded respect with a fist of violence, but that was nothing compared to the rule of the Guthries. They ruled the island with their commerce, able to make and break not only the pirate crews but also the merchants on the island. 

For you, freedom was many things. Your store, though small and off the beaten track, was lucrative and gave to you a life of comfort if not leisure. Your parents were gone but their love still resided in you. They had left behind a gaggle of friends that loved and protected you as you asserted your independence. 

Freedom was also the choice of who you took to bed. There had been a few men over the years, but none you considered special. The closest to a meaningful relationship you got was the continued dalliance with one of the pirates from The Walrus, the boatswain Billy Bones. 

The sex was more than enough to please you, but the man was simply easy to spend time with. The two of you laughed and talked about a myriad of things. He was a learned man and the two of you had plenty in common.

It wasn’t love though. That was one thing you weren’t sure you would find in Nassau, but that didn’t stop you from hoping. 

You wanted connection, intimacy, passion. You wanted a commitment, a love that consumed and freed you. As much as you enjoyed Billy’s presence, he wasn’t that for you.

If you never had a love like your parents had, at least you had your store. Affectionately called the General, it was a place where most of the people on the island started their search for things. If you didn’t carry it, you had the means to find it for them. For a price, of course.

Plus you made the best candles on the island. You were sure that not one ship left the bay without candles from the General.

The life you had in Nassau was a good one, a comfortable one. If only you’d known that that was all about to change.

------

There was a man and women in the store, both of them speaking low as they looked over the shelves against the far wall. Normally you wouldn’t have paid them any mind, but you had seen the look on their faces when they first walked in.

Good things rarely followed Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny when they looked like that.

You focused on the pages in hand, orders from various people on the island. You needed to find more mouse traps for the madam of the brothel, Mrs. Mapleton. One of the cooks from one of the ships needed better utensils. The butcher needed—

“Y/N. We have our order ready.”

You put the papers down and held a hand out to accept the piece of paper that was in Rackham’s hand. He held onto it for a long beat while staring at you before he released it. He turned his body towards Anne who was purposefully cleaning her nails with a long knife from her boot.

“Let’s see what I can do for you,” you said as you looked over the order. “Most of this is here in the store, but there are a few items I’ll need to get for you.”

As you gathered the items that you had on hand, you tried to ignore the two of them. Candles of various sizes, an inkwell with an extra pot of ink, a few quills, a thing of chalk, charcoal, paper… 

Every item you grabbed from your shelves or cabinets and placed into the canvas bag for the two of them, some wrapped to keep from being damaged. Some butcher paper was packed into the bag for extra security.

As you went about marking the items you still needed to get for them, you noticed that they had approached you once more.

“Is there something else I can help you with Mr. Rackham?” you asked in a polite voice as you scribbled a few notes regarding price, adding up how much you’d need to charge The Ranger crew.

“Oh, nothing in particular. Although now that you mention it,” he said as he tapped his fingers on the counter that separated the two of you, “I believe I heard through the grapevine that you were together with the boatswain of The Walrus.”

“Is that what you’ve heard? How intriguing.” You tore off the half of the page with the amount due and handed it over. “Here’s what’s owed. As always you just pay for what’s being taken today..”

He narrowed his eyes at you before he accepted the paper. You watched as he handed it to Anne Bonny who tugged out a pouch with some coin in it.

“Should I take you avoiding the question as an affirmative?” 

You glanced away from Anne and back over to Jack at that. As you were one of the best stores in Nassau and The Ranger was one of the biggest crews, definitely one of the best crews, you had dealt with the quartermaster and his quiet companion often enough. In your time dealing with them, however, you’d never been interrogated before. Your conversations were usually limited to the sale and maybe some idle chit chat.

This was a change you weren’t sure you appreciated.

“There wasn’t a question posed to me. You simply reiterated something that had been observed. However if it had been a question,” you amended because you didn’t want to piss these two off, “I would tell you that no, we’re not together. We simply enjoy each other’s company.”

“Is that right?” He cast a glance at Anne and gave an almost imperceptible nod. 

The woman handed over the correct amount of coin as well as a tip which wasn’t required but definitely helped. You thanked them both as you pushed the bag towards them.

With the bundle in his arms, the two left your store without another word. You weighed the coin in hand before you put it in the hidden compartment where you stored the rest. 

It was a strange interaction with the pirate pair, but you shook it off. There were more important things to focus on. Like a stack of orders you needed to work on.

------

With the door to the store locked, you headed to the hidden door that led to your rooms. It was made to look like part of the wall so no one knew where it was. You had just touched the handle when what sounded like an entire army began banging on the door to the shop.

At this hour it probably wasn’t an irate shopper or townsfolk. This had to be an emergency. That in mind, you made your way over to the door and pressed your ear to it.

“Y/N? Open the door. It’s me, Billy.”

This was highly unusual, but it was Billy. You trusted him.

You undid the locks and lifted the wooden slat that barred the door. Then you quickly opened it. Billy rushed in with someone behind him, a shorter man with curly black hair. He gave a charming smile that seemed at odds with the look of concern on Billy’s face.

The two of them shut and locked the door and then went about herding you towards the back room. Billy then opened the hidden door that led to your rooms, earning an interesting look from the other man.

“Do I want to know what’s going on? Or who this is?”

The man turned to offer you his hand, that charming smile back on his lips.

“I’m John Silver, a newly acquired… cook on The Walrus.”

You looked between John Silver and Billy who kept shooting glances at the door that led to the shop as if it was going to blow open at any second.

“I don’t have any cookbooks on hand if that’s your reason for coming by after I’ve already closed up shop, but I can find some. Other than that, I think I better demand an explanation.”

Billy came forward, his hands raised as if he was trying to calm down an enraged wild animal.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” he began, flinching when you crossed your arms over your chest. “The Ranger crew was getting ready to set sail and uh, it seems they aren’t able to at the moment. Things got a little heated on the beach and we thought it’d be a good idea to find somewhere to lie low until the heat died down.”

You let that sit for a moment as you looked between the two of them. Besides the fact that John Silver didn’t look like he’d spent a second cooking in his life, Billy looked much like he had the first time you’d caught him with one of the whores in the brothel.

You explained that you didn’t mind, preferred it really. While you cared for Billy, you knew that you’d never fall in love with him. You didn’t particularly want to fall in love with a pirate. Since then both of you were comfortable enough to find companionship where it came without guilt.

It worked for the two of you. But that first time he’d looked so guilty.

Just as he did now.

“Bullshit. Now I’ll say this again just in case you didn’t hear me the first time. I demand a fucking explanation.”

Billy winced again.

“Y/N–” but you didn’t let him get out whatever pitiful excuse he had prepared.

“You’re a pirate, Billy Bones, and I’ve never known you to run from a fight. If things were heated on the beach, you wouldn’t be up here hiding. You’d be down there with a sword in hand and your brothers at your back. So whatever is going on, I want to know right now, or you and your cook can go fuck yourselves and leave.”

You watched as Silver opened his mouth, obviously about to tell Billy that they should leave, but you knew that that wouldn’t be happening. Billy had brought the two of them to you for a reason. He might be stubborn—he was a pirate after all—but he was far from stupid.

And he knew that you were right.

“It’s a map,” he said over Silver’s objections, “a map that they had that leads to some potentially big prizes. Silver stole it.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before you looked at the other man.

“You stole… a treasure map… from a pirate? Not just any pirate, but Captain Vane?” You let out a little laugh and then looked over at Billy. “Where did you find this one? The bottom of the ocean?”

“I think you’re missing the point,” Silver tried to explain as a way to divert attention from his folly. “I am currently in possession of something that The Ranger crew desperately want to get back. My plan is to… give it to Captain Flint but he’s not here. Therefore we’re not as protected as I originally thought we’d be.”

The way he said that he was going to give the map to Flint made you think that had originally not been his plan. If the map was for some large prizes, it was likely he had originally meant to sell it to the highest bidder. 

Maybe he was a pirate after all.

“And so you thought to bring him to me. Did you think I could hide him under the pit where I make the candles?” 

“We just need to keep our heads down until Flint is back from the interior. It should be tomorrow sometime.”

As you started to say that they could stay there, you remembered something from earlier that morning. At the time Jack Rackham’s questions had seemed harmless if a little strange. Now you had to wonder if there had been a reason to them after all.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. This morning I had some of The Ranger crew in here for an order. An order that came with the extra benefit of questions regarding my relationship with the boatswain of The Walrus.”

While Billy usually tried to be civil and polite around you, he didn’t seem to have that issue just then. 

“Fuck. Fucking… fuck.”

“Eloquent,” Silver remarked and then nodded when Billy gave him a glare. “I know that this is my fault, but I think you’re forgetting how important this map could be. And that Captain Vane and the rest of The Ranger crew would gladly cut off our heads to get it back.”

You rubbed your temples, urging back the headache that started to grow there. The day had started with such promise and had only gone downhill. 

“There’s a door in the back that leads to the woods. If you walk about ten minutes you’ll come to a split where you can either go back to town or to the interior. You’ll need to find a different place to hide.”

Silver shook his head.

“The door to this part of the building was hidden. We could stay here.”

You fixed Silver with a glare that made him step back.

“This store is my livelihood. If the pirates even suspect that you might be here, they’ll tear this building down to the very last nail. I won’t have that happen over your stupid decision, do you understand me? If you are in this building when The Ranger crew gets here, I’ll happily direct them to the very crevice you’ve hidden yourself in.”

You turned to Billy, still fuming over the turn of events.

“I’m sorry Billy. You know in other circumstances I’d do anything to help you, but this isn’t something I’m willing to risk. Not for you, not for some man I’ve never met. I can’t be part of that.”

Billy nodded that he understood. He stepped forward and placed a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. 

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that. We’ll take the passage out and head back to the beach. If the crew comes, just tell them we were headed to the interior to look for a Mr. Blackwell. That’ll get them off your case.”

You peered up at him cautiously.

“Is there a Mr. Blackwell in the interior?” You didn’t want to send a bunch of angry pirates after an innocent man.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he admitted with a grin. 

He leaned in to kiss your forehead. When he pulled back, he grabbed Silver’s shoulder and yanked him in the direction of the back door you had told him about.

Once the door was shut and you were left alone once more, you took a deep breath. If the questioning was due to the map, you wanted to be prepared. If Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny came back to your store, you were going to be prepared for them.

After this, Billy would have a lot to make up for.

------

The sun had barely started to rise in the sky when the pounding began. You looked up from where you had been preparing tea. It sounded like the door of the shop was going to cave in any moment and you wouldn’t stand for that. You slipped into the shop and shut the hidden door quietly. You made sure everything was in position before you went to the door to let in whoever was out there.

It turned out to be Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny, as you had assumed, but they weren’t alone. In front of them was a man you’d never formally been introduced to, but everyone in Nassau knew who Captain Charles Vane was.

And as he stormed past you and into the shop, you were impressed that for once the stories seemed to be true. He was silent as he directed the other two to start to search your shop, a passiveness on his face that you were sure was faked.

As the other two pirates made their way around the shop, you simply folded your arms over your chest.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about or am I to guess?”

The captain didn’t even glance in your direction but Rackham did.

“Surely you don’t think playing dumb will help you. You admitted to me that you were close to Billy Bones, he stole something from our crew, ergo…” With that he ducked into the backroom to search for Billy, a sword drawn.

“Billy Bones is twelve feet tall, where do you think I’ve hidden him? He wouldn’t exactly fit in the cabinet.”

This time it was Bonny that spoke. 

“You live here, don’t ya? Maybe you have him stashed in your bed.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I won’t qualify that with a response.” You looked past the redhead and over at the captain who was still ignoring your presence. Or pretending to at least. “If Billy had come by here, what makes you think I would’ve let him stay?”

“You’d turn away someone you’re bedding in their time of need?” That was called to you from your own backroom. Jack’s voice was muffled, but still clear enough to be heard.

“If I sheltered every man that I’ve fucked when he’s pissed off some pirate crew or other, I’d be running a halfway house. This is my place of business and as I am supposed to be a neutral entity, yes, I would’ve turned him away.”

That drew the captain’s attention. He stared at you for a long moment before he spoke.

“Jack.” It was just one word but the tone made you stand up a little straighter. 

That wasn’t him calling Jack back into the room. That was him letting Jack off the leash.

Suddenly a loud crash came from the backroom. It was followed by more. It took only seconds to realize what was happening. 

He was destroying your merchandise.

“You fucking bastard,” you yelled as you tried to launch yourself in that direction but an arm around your middle stilled you. 

Out of the corner of your eye you could see the brown hair that hung nearby telling you that the culprit was the captain rather than Bonny. You had half a mind to try to land a fist in his face but you figured they wouldn’t be inclined to let you go if you did that.

“Billy, the cook, and my map. Tell us where they are and this stops.”

Now it was Bonny’s turn to start wrecking your shop. While Rackham wreaked havoc on your backroom, Bonny tore reams of paper and broke quills.

“Make them stop and I’ll tell you, but damaging my store won’t exactly make me inclined to tell you the truth otherwise.”

The arm around your middle squeezed as if in warning before he barked out an order for the two of them to stop. You waited for Rackham to join the rest of you before you tried to pull away from the captain. He didn’t seem inclined to let you go just yet so you stopped fighting it and just slumped a bit.

“There’s a path around the back of the shop. Ten minute walk and you’ll see a sign that points towards the interior. They said they were going to a Mr. Blackwell for help.” You said the name as if you were remembering it rather than just relaying it in hopes that it would help your act. “They left just after dark last night so you might want to hurry.”

A knife was swung out and pointed at your throat, courtesy of Anne Bonny. She pressed it tight enough that it probably drew blood.

“Why should we trust you? You could be lying to us.”

Of course you were but you weren’t about to tell her that.

“What part of neutral entity do you not understand? I sell to everyone on this island so having favorites wouldn’t get me anywhere, would it?”

You finally were able to pull out of the captain’s grasp. You marched towards the backroom and scowled at the mess. Then you went around to your counter where you pretended to look over the damage that Bonny had caused.

“If you are lying to us, we’ll be back,” the captain promised in a deep voice that told you this would just be the beginning.

You shrugged a shoulder as you grabbed the pistol you’d left under the counter. You raised it level at the three of them. You might only have one shot, but you’d make it count. Rackham reached for his sword but Vane shook his head and stopped him.

“I’ve given you the information you need, now get the fuck out of my shop so that I can try to repair the damage that’s been done.”

Vane jerked his head towards the front door that they had stormed through. As the three of them slipped out into the morning air, aimed for the back of the store so that they could try to hunt down Billy and Silver, you watched as Vane looked over his shoulder at you for a long moment before he shut the door behind him.

Once you were sure that the three of them had gone, you slumped against the wall and put the pistol on a shelf. 

“Really hope that map is worth it Billy,” you mumbled to yourself.

Then you went about fixing your shop.

X

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[takaraphoenix]

04 fandom ask how about a show I haven't heard you talk about in a hot minute. Phineas and Ferb?

I kind of enjoyed you discovering the weird and wonderful cartoon most of the people under 25 grew up with. I think that's a good age range cuz I'm under that and I definitely grew up with it as a good part of my childhood but I'm also still well into cartoons in going in my twenties lol... my birthday was last month and I had quite the number of Elena of avalor presents. You can do that fandom if you want to but not necessary

Well, happy belated birthday first! And then thanks for playing! And also, yeeeah I haven’t been watching Phineas and Ferb in a bit, the 10 minute format asks a lot of concentration of me that I simply don’t have lately so it’s on the backburner. I got the tab open and I definitely wanna finish it because I like the show, but I just don’t have the space for it right now.

Phineas and Ferb:

the character i least understand: Baljeet? I mean, he is... best friends with his bully... that is such a weird dynamic, I genuinely do not understand it at all?

interactions i enjoyed the most: Heinz and Perry, for sure, they’re so weird

the character who scares me the most: Heinz, Phineas and Ferb like those three have the actual capability to destroy the world if they so deem but all three use this power for incredibly specific stupid silly things, like imagine what they could do if they actually tried to be evil? Terrifying

the character who is mostly like me: I really don’t think any of them tbh

hottest looks character: Vanessa probably?

one thing i dislike about my fave character: sometimes, Isabella is very passive-aggressive with Phineas when he once again completely fails at realizing something is/could be romantic, I feel like clearer communication would be the better approach and like that boy needs these things spelled out for him so just spell it out for him

one thing i like about my hated character: I... don’t hate any of the characters? Aside from maybe Heinz’s parents I guess? And like... the thing I like about them is that they... made... Heinz, I guess? xD

a quote or scene that haunts me: The fact that in Isabella’s head, Phineas is a centaur for some reason

a death that left me indifferent: no one has died (yet)

a character i wish died but didn’t: none, nope, this show doesn’t have such characters

my ship that never sailed: I dunno, I do think Vanessa/Candace would be hella cute and a great way to tie the two plots more together also queers in a Disney show that early, could you imagine

Elena of Avalor:

the character i least understand: Naomi when she went “well, your cousin who you love like a brother just betrayed you and is on the run and so are dangerous sorcerers but like I’ll just fuck off to travel the world now because that’s what I need”, like I understand that being a captain is what she always wanted but that timing was incredibly insensitive considering their friendship and her own commitment into being a council member? Like, the open sea doesn’t run away, it would still be there after they caught Esteban, but to leave Elena and Avalor like that, during times where she - as one of only two (2) people in the entire country who actually can read the freaking ancient language - would have been needed? That made no sense for her character

interactions i enjoyed the most: Elena and Naomi, Elena and Isabel

the character who scares me the most: None, I think?

the character who is mostly like me: Maybe Mateo, a little?

hottest looks character: Ash Delgado

one thing i dislike about my fave character: For a princess, Elena is really bad at deligating and like... even into the final season, she proves to be bad at that and at that point, she should have spent years learning to deligate, you can not run around and solve every problem yourself once you’re queen and you do have a big network of people you can trust

one thing i like about my hated character: error, redeeming qualities on Shuriki not found

a quote or scene that haunts me: okay so on a more complex level, the fact that Elena can see and talk to their parents and just didn’t fucking tell Isabel for forever, I get it is only one day a year that she can talk to them, but... she really just... forgot to tell other people that she could see ghosts, more specifically her dead parents, when there is Isabel and their grandparents and they all deserved a chance to talk to them too, even if just indirectly. So, it haunts me that the second Dias de los Muertos episode wasn’t just their family, together, and just... talking

a death that left me indifferent: Did anyone die, aside from the pre-dead parents? I don’t think so

a character i wish died but didn’t: Nope, not really

my ship that never sailed: Elena/Naomi. Y’all can say what you want but if that finale wasn’t queerbaity af, when Elena approached Naomi when she was supposed to pick a partner to dance with, while the boys puffed their chests out hoping they would be chosen and for a split-second even Naomi thought Elena wanted to dance with her? I really thought they pulled a “queer in the last second” there and I think they should. I am already eternally grateful that the show didn’t force the four main characters into two heteronormative couples, but can you imagine the raw power of Elena of Avalor, first queer Disney princess?

Send me a fandom and i’ll tell you

[walviemort]

hidden blessing (5/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

rated T | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 | 3.1k

a/n: Hope I didn’t keep y’all waiting too long on this! Not sure when the next chapter will go up but hopefully not as long :) We’re into Neverland now! and, as always, dedicated to the darling @sherlockianwhovian​

Splashing down in Neverland filled Killian with an array of emotions, few of them positive. They’d made it through the portal in one piece, thankfully, but just the sight of the cursed island looming on the horizon filled him with dread. Getting here had been the easy part; gods only knew what lay ahead.

“Is that it?” Emma called out once the ship had set itself to rights (Killian was mildly jealous of it; his stomach matched the churning sea below them).

“Aye,” he confirmed. “Neverland.”

He couldn’t see her face to read her expression, but the determined set of her shoulders told him everything: she was willing to risk all to save her son. He saw similar in the fierce expression Regina wore, even in the composed and precise manner of Snow and David. And yet again he wondered: was he really cut out for parenting? 

His life was dangerous. Hell, he himself was known to be. Yet again, he’d dragged his child to this timeless realm; how long would the babe’s growth be stalled now? What if something happened to him? What if Pan found a way to use it against them?

As if to calm him down, he felt a few strong kicks just behind his navel. Well, that was a good sign, he supposed. He let out a quiet sigh of relief and set to the task of navigating them to the island.

“Why are you slowing down?” Regina snapped, suddenly at his side. “In case you didn't know, my son's life is in danger.”

He bit back a huff, only because he knew her anger was a mask for her fear. “Oh, I know, my hot-headed Queen. The plan is to bring us to the far side of the island, link up with the widest part of the river, and.. then we sail right through, take him by surprise,” he explained. “The irony…” he muttered under his breath.

“What irony?” she asked, much more calmly.

“Oh, I spent more time than I care to remember trying to leave this place to kill Rumplestiltskin. And here I am, sailing right back into its heart with him as my guest of honor.” The man in question had disappeared below deck nearly as soon as they landed. “It's not quite the happy ending I was hoping for.”

Regina seemed oddly thoughtful. “Greg Mendell said something funny to me. He said I'm a villain, and that villains don't get happy endings. You believe that?”

Weeks ago, he would have concurred; but now… “I hope not, or we've wasted our lives.”

“I thought Henry was going to be mine,” she admitted quietly. “Little did I know he’d just be the start of another adventure.” Then she smiled at him. “You’ll know what I’m talking about soon enough.”

“Assuming we all make it out of this alive,” he tossed back, expressing his own realism as he overheard a tense bit of conversation between the Charming family that seemed to revolve around the inherent optimism Emma had not inherited. “Though, I have been meaning to ask—how could you tell?”

“That you were knocked up? Please; I’m Cora’s daughter. She taught me long ago how to look for any signs of weakness. And Hook? You’re practically glowing,” she told him, smirking.

He couldn't hold back his own smile at that; while logically, he knew that put him at risk to other enemies knowing, it was also kind of nice to know his own newfound source of joy showed in his demeanor. It had been well over a century since he’d even really had anything to be happy about.

Their attention was drawn to the deck by Snow’s insistent promise to Emma of, “We'll find Henry.” Well, that was the point, wasn't it?

“No, you won't.” From nowhere, the Dark One had appeared on the quarterdeck, his earlier instruments put away and now in garb typical of the Enchanted Forest. 

“Oh, that's a great use of our time—a wardrobe change,” Killian quipped, but if Gold heard, he didn’t acknowledge it—and instead went on to lecture the group on how they would not succeed in their endeavor.

“What makes you think I'm gonna fail?” Emma bit back, angry, and he didn’t blame her. (In fact, it was rather when he liked her best—passionate.)

“Well, how could you not?” Rumplestiltskin insisted. “You don't believe in your parents, or in magic, or even yourself.”

“I slayed a dragon. I think I believe.” Now that was a story Killian needed to hear.

“Only what was shown to you. When have you ever taken a real leap of faith? You know, the kind where there's absolutely no proof?” The Dark One continued his diatribe, but Killian’s gaze was fixed on Emma—and the way he could see the doubts and fear beginning to cloud her mind.

“I'll do whatever it takes,” she insisted, but he could tell she was trying to convince herself as much as Gold.

“Well, you just need someone to tell you what that is. Sorry, dearie, our foe is too fearsome for hand-holding.” That, unfortunately, was accurate. “Neverland is a place where imagination runs wild. And, sadly, yours doesn't.” And then the bastard disappeared. Alas, it was just as well. Plus, the man was starting to make Killian nauseous.

Or perhaps that was just the babe; he’d never been one to be seasick but considering everything, he was definitely feeling a bit green. He used the silence that followed the Dark One’s departure to make sure they were set on the right course, but once that was set, he asked the Charmings to hold the helm while he sought out the ginger drops he knew were hiding in his cabin.

He was only slightly surprised to find Emma had beaten him down there, and was practicing pullups on a bar in the room. She paused when she heard his footsteps.

“Oh, don't stop on my account,” he said, admiring the view as he walked past. Her form-fitting trousers were stirring other sorts of feelings in him; goodness, these hormones were going to give him whiplash.

“Wouldn't think of it,” she replied, pretending to ignore him, and went back to it.

He easily located the drops, sitting in a pouch on his desk. “What are you doing?” he had to ask.

“Getting ready for a fight,” she bit back, pulling herself up and then landing back on the platform.

“Well, I've never known you to need to get ready for a fight. I thought it was a natural state,” he teased as he grabbed the bag, then reapproached her. “Don't let Rumplestiltskin get you down, love.”

She jumped down from the ledge and leveled a glare at him. “Why did you come down here? What is that?” she demanded, nodding at the bag in his hand.

“Ginger drops,” he said, then quickly realized he wasn’t ready to divulge his need of them. “They help with seasickness; Her Highness was looking a bit green around the gills.”

That got a bit of a smile out of her, and thankfully she bought the lie. Although, when he glanced at the shelf to the left of them, he remembered something hidden inside—something that might boost her morale. 

“Might you permit me to give you something?” he asked, not wanting to offend her. She nodded.

He pocketed the drops and fished out a key from another pocket. “You know, Baelfire and I once spent a lot of time together,” he started to explain as he unlocked a compartment built into the shelf.

“He was always Neal to me,” she replied, albeit morosely.

“Yeah. Right,” he acknowledged, then grabbed the object hidden behind the small door. “This was his.”

It was a sword—a small cutlass he had once used to teach the lad how to fight, and damn near took his own head off when things went sour. Gingerly, Emma took it from him with both hands.

“I didn't realize you were sentimental,” she said as she assessed it.

“I'm not,” he lied again, and saw another useful item sitting on the shelf. “I just thought you could use it where we're going. You know, to fight.” And then he handed her the shot glass.

“Thanks,” she said as he filled it with rum from his flask, which he then offered up in a toast.

“To Neal.” (He knew what all the books said about drinking during pregnancy, but given the current stasis, one shot likely couldn’t hurt.)

“To Neal,” she answered, and clinked the glass against the flask before downing the shot. (Guilt got the better of him, and he only had a small sip.) 

After a brief, but not uncomfortable silence, Emma asked, “How long was he with you?”

“Long enough for me to know that I miss him, too,” he answered, this time truthfully. As surreptitiously as he could, he rested his hand on his belt—because he could feel the sudden intense flutters within, as if the child somehow knew they were talking about their sibling—or perhaps was encouraging him to do something else.

Emma had shown utmost trust in him in undertaking this journey. And if they were going to get through this and achieve their goal, then that was going to have to go all directions. It would be fair of him to show he trusted her by revealing his condition, wouldn’t it?

He swallowed and was about to tell her, but the small peace they’d had was interrupted by a loud bang against the hull and sudden groaning and creaking of the ship.

“What was that?” Emma blurted out, and they quickly dashed up to the deck to see what was amiss.

Emma’s parents were struggling to hold the wheel steady, and the waves were tossing the ship about like it was a toy. Only he quickly realized—this was no natural storm, and a glance over the railing confirmed his fears.

HIs nausea would have to wait, lest none of them survive. He made a mad dash for the helm to try to wrest control of it. “Prepare for attack!”

“Be more specific,” Regina demanded, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation.

“If you've got a weapon, then grab it,” he called out as he fought against the wheel.

“What's out there? A shark? A whale?” Emma guessed; if only she’d guessed right.

“A kraken?” her father added.

“Worse.” An unholy screeching filled the air. “Mermaids.”

The next—gods, he wasn’t even sure how long—fell into a blur of panic and anger as the vile creatures mounted their attack and his passengers made the idiotic mistake of not only bringing one on board, but angering her even more (and possibly killing her). Which of course brought on a violent storm and even more vicious emotions; it was all he could do to keep the prince’s fists away from Killian’s abdomen (again). 

And then Emma leapt into the sea, taking his stomach with her. They managed to save her but it left him with an uncomfortable amount of adrenaline in his system, even if their cooperation ended up dissipating the storm. Bloody Neverland and its odd magic.

Despite a breach in the hull, he managed to get the Roger to land, although not where he had planned. And it would need repairs before they could attempt to leave the realm. But at least they’d made it this far.

And to think—this would likely be the easy part.

To his shock, Regina voiced her support of his original plan once they made landfall, but even he knew that a sneak attack was unlikely to happen at this point; there was no way Pan didn’t know they were there, not after what had just happened on the sea. There was an aggravating omniscience about that boy.

“It's time we stop running,” Emma lectured. “Gold was right. This land is run on belief. All of us have been too busy being at each other's throat to be believers. I was as wrong as anyone else. It's time for all of us to believe. Not in magic, but in each other.”

“You want to be friends? After everything that's happened between all of us?” As inclined as he was to agree with Emma, Regina had a point; he had not one but two sore spots on his face from David.

“I don't want or expect that. I know there's a lot of history here, a lot of hate,” Emma countered.

“Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time, when you're not yelling at me,” Killian quipped in a lame attempt to lighten the mood. And then immediately regretted it; gods, did pregnancy brain also mean he blurted out his every thought? He’d need to sharpen that, and quickly.

“We don't need to be friends. What we need now is the only way to get Henry back, which is cooperation.”

“With her? With him?” the prince protested, gesturing Killian’s way. “No, Emma. We have to do this the right way.” Killian did manage to bite back a comment on the prince’s self-righteousness.

“No, we don't. We just need to succeed. And the way we do that is by just being who we are—a hero, a villain, a pirate.” He had to admit the slight thrill it gave him when Emma’s gaze lingered on him. “It doesn't matter which, because we're going to need all those skills, whether we can stomach them or not.”

“And what's your skill, Savior?” Regina tossed back.

“I'm a mother. And now I'm also your leader. So either help me get my son back or get out of the way.” And without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and headed towards the jungle. 

Gods, he loved it when she was fired up like that.

Snow was quick to follow Emma, as was David, who cast an oddly inviting look Killian’s way, as if challenging him to turn back now. Which, of course, he wouldn’t. 

Killian didn’t hesitate to fall in line, but not before throwing a glance at Regina; she was still put out, it seemed, by Emma’s take charge attitude. Someone had to, though. And Henry was her son, too.

She wasn’t far behind him.

It quickly became apparent that, as the only one who had any idea where they were, Killian should lead; he knew there was a ridge not far up that would give them a decent view of the island and hopefully reveal Pan’s hiding spot. Regina balked at the idea of hiking, but was convinced otherwise when they reminded her of the dangers at every turn.

“He’s right,” Emma told her. “Hook's lived here before. If he says hiking up is the best way, then we listen.” He wasn’t expecting the vote of confidence, but it was nice to have; he wasn’t naive enough to think that perhaps his attraction was reciprocated, but it was an extra reminder that he had Emma’s trust—which wasn’t easy to come by.

But of course, the wriggling thing in his belly was a reminder that he needed to place equal trust in her.

At least—after he saved the idiot next to him from slashing his way to death.

He saw the vines before he saw David swing back to slice at them and was able to shout a warning and get his hook around the man’s bicep before he could make contact.

The prince shook him off angrily. “I can handle a couple of thorns.”

“That's dreamshade,” Killian explained, nodding toward the demonic plant. “It's not the thorns you have to worry about. It's the poison they inject you with. This plant is the source of the toxins I used on the Dark One.”

They were all familiar, it seemed, with his failed assassination attempt—but were aware of its potency, and seemed to take his message about its effects to heart. Killian wasn’t about to lose another ally to that venom, even if they weren’t exactly on friendly terms.

“I suggest we go this way,” he directed, nodding down the path to the right of the bush.

David glanced at it, then looked the other direction. “We'll go this way.” Bloody obstinate arse. But Snow followed him, and then it was Regina’s turn to throw a wry glance his way.

Emma came up behind her and he fell into step with her. “Your father's a distrustful fellow,” he observed.

“He's just not used to working with the bad guys.”

“I can assure you, on this island, I am not the bad guy.”

“Yeah, well, Pan's not supposed to be one either,” she countered.

“What possibly gave you that idea?” The concept of that demon be considered remotely good turned his stomach (unless that was just the usual nausea stirring up again).

“Every story I ever heard as a child,” she explained, oblivious to his discomfort.

“Well, they got it all wrong. Pan is the most treacherous villain I've ever faced.” He tried to swallow down the bile that was churning inside, and decided to change the subject slightly. “Tell me something, love. In these stories...what was I like? Other than a villain. Handsome, I gather?”

She smirked, but not necessarily in a good way. “If waxed mustaches and perms are your thing.”

Sometimes, it felt like they were speaking different languages. “I take it by your tone, perms are bad?”

She just laughed a bit as they continued on, but they didn’t get much farther before the contents of his stomach came up with little warning. He managed to bite out an “excuse me” before ducking alongside a tree and retching. Ugh, he’d hoped with things in stasis, this part of pregnancy would be on pause, too; apparently not.

“Woah, Hook—are you okay?” Emma asked, hovering near his side. “You’re not hungover or something, are you?”

It took a moment to catch his breath. “Far from it,” he replied.

“Did you catch some rare Neverland stomach bug or something? Is that something else we need to worry about?”

He chuckled humorlessly. “I suppose you could call it that, but it has nothing to do with Neverland.”

He straightened from his hunched-over position to find her staring at him with her brow furrowed, both assessing him and confused at the same time. “What is going on, then? It’s going to be hard for you to guide us if you’re not 100%.”

Well, it looked like she was going to force his hand. “If you must know,” he started, then leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

------------------------

thanks for reading! tagging  @cocohook38​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​ @superadam54​​​​ @ashley-knightingale​​​​ @justsomewhump​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Help Wanted (chapter four)

Huge thanks to my amazing betas @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short!

Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you’d like to support my writing! 

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

----

WARNING: This chapter and the next few will deal with Fjord coping with his own sexuality and internalised homophobia. Avoid if this is a trigger for you.

Caduceus and Fjord start coming closer, when something comes roaring up to pull them apart

----

“So...Caduceus, huh?”

Beau wasn’t very good at difficult conversations. She knew that. Whenever she had to have one, whether it was navigating her relationship with her girlfriends, letting Jester know when she needed some quiet time or getting Yasha to be more open about how she was feeling, the person she usually turned to was Fjord. He’d never say it himself but he was good at feelings talk, at least when he was out of his own head. Even when he’d been far away, the two of them had texted whenever he was docked, and he’d always been able to help her figure out what to say. Not that she could tell him that. He’d have cringed and gotten awkward about it and insisted he was really no good at ‘soft stuff’.

And Beau would have felt that urge to slap the hell out of that Vandran guy. And Avantika. And everyone else who’d ever made Fjord feel like he was worthless if he wasn’t ‘strong’. But that would have taken a long time.

But this time, she couldn’t ask Fjord what to say or how to make her smile look less like a grimace or how not to come off like a grumpy asshole. Because the person she wanted to have this tricky conversation with was Fjord himself.

And so far it was going as well as she’d expected.

Fjord gave her a puzzled look from across the counter, “Caduceus. Yeah, I know the fellah. Tall, furry, dresses like a college age stoner. I only see him every day but Sundays.”

“Damn, that is exactly how he dresses…” Beau muttered, looking across at where Cad himself was standing, seeing his drop crotch pants in an eye watering geometric print in a new light, “Anyway, I just mean...he’s nice, right?”

Fjord narrowed his eyes, “Uh, yeah. He is nice.”

“And you’ve been getting on really well?”

“I guess, yeah. We talk a lot, we’ve actually started texting. I don’t think he’s ever done it before but he seems like he’s getting the hang of it...I know he seems a little slow but he’s actually way smarter than people realise, he knows more about plants than, well, anyone I think and all this stuff he just remembers off the top of his head, his memory for some stuff just crazy. Last night when we were texting, he was describing how to make some real complicated stew thing and I know for a fact he didn’t have the recipe book because that's here and he wasn’t googling it because I don’t think he knows how to do that but he remembered everything about it…” he stopped, like he’d just realised how long he’d been talking and flushed, “Beau, when are you getting to your point?”

Beau cursed internally. The answer was she had no idea. But she had to try.

“Just sayin’... seems like you’ve got a bit of a...a thing going on with him. A connection.”

That had definitely been the wrong thing to say. Fjord’s shoulders immediately hunched, his jaw set in that stubborn, defensive way. The blush became a fire across his face, turning his green skin splotchy. He looked like a teenager caught spray painting a wall.

“What? He’s just a friend,” he said, more curt than he probably realised, “Like I said, I see him every day. I’m allowed to have friends, ain’t I?”

Beau held up her palms, getting the strong sensation that Fjord wasn’t talking to her anymore, not in his head anyway, “Sure, sure. Course.”

“You and Jess said I should work here, you wanted me to get to know him, that’s all I’m doing-”

“Right!” Beau raised her voice a little, frowning, “I know, Fjord, I know. Jeez, I was just asking…”

“Well maybe don’t next time,” he snapped, “He’s just a friend...here’s your coffee.”

The last part was muttered a little resentfully as he pushed the biodegradable cup towards her more forcefully than he needed to, quickly turning on his heel and nearly fleeing into the kitchen, with a half caught comment about having work to do.

Beau groaned and slumped on her stool. She knew exactly what was going to happen now, Fjord would spend a day being cold and awkward around her then would snap right back to the way they’d been before, as if the botched conversation had never happened. That’s how it had gone every other time Beau had tried to steer him into talking about...well, anything even remotely adjacent to that.

She’d tried before Caduceus was ever in the picture. She’d tried to bring it up around bonfires they’d set on the beach on weekends Fjord had stayed with her because the orphanage was crushing him, on the nights they’d sneak onto the school field when her own home became unbearable to be in and she needed to talk to someone who didn’t treat her like she was a mistake for being herself. She’d waited expectantly when she’d come out to him, at their usual booth in the cheap diner they both frequented, like there was a second half to the conversation in the wings.

None had worked. How were you supposed to tell someone you saw something in them when they didn’t see it themselves? When other parts of them, parts that had been transplanted in against their will, would hate it and punish them for it?

As little as she liked it, Beau realised all she could do was sit back and hope against hope that something would grow in Fjord.

Well, she sighed as she jumped down and went to head to class, if anyone could make something grow in the harshest conditions it was Caduceus.

It happened so slowly.

It started with side glances, Fjord clearly noticing things he hadn’t before. Things like the tattoo at the base of Caduceus’ neck that was only visible when he wore his hair with his undercut exposed. Things like the swirl of smooth oak he wore through the hole in his ear. Things like the markings he shaved into the fur around his wrist on certain days, namely the week when the seasons were shifting, as spring became summer. They’d always been part of him, of course but now Fjord’s eye seemed drawn to them more than ever.

And then it became questions. Not big questions but small ones that betrayed a much bigger curiosity. One day, when Fjord came in to find Cad meditating on the floor in the middle of the cafe, he politely tiptoed around him and left him to it. But he spent the morning clearly chewing over a question and finally, as the two of them sat and ate lunch in the kitchen, he burst out and asked if Cad thought about anything in particular when he did that or if he just let his mind wander. Cad had smiled and happily ran him through some meditation basics, breathing and thought exercises and such. Fjord had listened intently before quickly busying himself with his sandwich and mumbling something about it sounding interesting but not really for him.

The next day, he’d asked Cad if talking to the plants as he did counted as talking to his goddess too. Then he’d asked if she had a particular special day or if she had a temple of some kind somewhere. Then he’d asked if the way Caduceus did his hair had something to do with her whole spiral thing, the way he usually did it in braided buns on either side of his head.

Cad answered every question patiently, as if simply indulging his friend’s curiosity. After all, she was a lesser known deity in these parts, of course she’d seem interesting to someone who had grown up in a city. But each one lit a hope in his chest, like fireflies buzzing in his ribcage.

And then it wasn’t a question, it was a realisation.

“That’s a wave, isn’t it?”

Caduceus looked up from where he was lounging on one of the sofas, sewing a torn cushion back together, “Hm?”

Fjord was over in the corner, one of the carved talismans in his hand. There were several dotted around the store, looking just like indoor rockery amongst the plants or interesting art sculptures. But if someone knew what they were looking for, they’d see them everywhere. This one was a palm sized river rock, carved with the Wildmother’s spiral and painted in watercolours. His sister had made it for him before he’d left, pressing it into his palm as he’d been packing, when the rest of his family had already started keeping their distance.

Clarabelle had always been a favourite of his.

It seemed to fit perfectly in Fjord’s palm and he was studying it like he had no idea how it had gotten there, the watering can hanging limp and forgotten in his other hand.

“The symbol,” he murmured, face creased in a gentle, curious frown, “It’s a wave, isn’t it?”

Cad leaned forward, setting his needle and thread to one side, lazily resting his chin on his knees, “It is. Melora’s of the sea as well as the forest. Where’s wilder than the sea, after all?”

“I...I didn’t know that,” Fjord’s voice was small and his eyes hadn’t lifted from the talisman.

Cad nodded, “She guides the passage of ships and protects those who sail the waves, anywhere in the world. Particularly from storms.”

That snapped Fjord’s eyes up, as if one of the words Cad had spoken was a fishing line that he’d jerked, “Really?’

Cad tried to feel nothing at the sudden intensity in the half orc’s stare, “Yes. She’s all about protection and balance when people travel through wild places. Keeping things as they should be.”

Again, something about that tugged at Fjord. Enough to make him set down the watering can and come to sit on the sofa opposite Caduceus’, leaning forward on his knees. The quiet of the cafe after hours seemed to intensify, wrap around them as if they weren’t just the only two people in the building but the whole world.

“You said she’s about healing,” his voice was raspy, like he was having to fight to keep some emotion out of it, “But what about...forgiving?”

Cad blinked slowly, ears twitching, “Forgiving?”

Fjord lowered his voice, “Like if you’d...done something you weren’t proud of. Or thought something or...or you were something you weren’t proud of...or at least you thought you should be...would she still…” he seemed unable to keep going, like he was grasping for words that weren’t there.

Cad took a moment to really look at him before he answered. It was like he was seeing him in a different light, the way the colour of some eyes could look completely different depending on where you stood. There was a fear in Fjord’s face he’d never seen before, a kind of raw and innocent fear that belonged to a child. A child who didn’t understand why he’d been hurt as badly as he had. Who’d spend his life trying to reason out that hurt, finding flaws in himself that weren’t there, just to justify it all. Because if it wasn’t there then the world was just plain cruel and that couldn’t be true.

Cad was good at reading people, he was good at understanding faces and the feelings behind them. But he hadn’t seen this. And it broke his heart.

“Fjord,” he eventually murmured, wanting so badly to reach across the table to him but knowing that would do more harm than good, “Nothing is unforgivable. Certainly nothing you’ve done. And some things...some things don’t even require forgiveness, no matter what other people have told you.”

Fjord swallowed hard, “And she...she’d think so too?”

“Without hesitation,” Cad answered immediately, never breaking his gaze.

At that, something in Fjord seemed to recede, pull away. Something that didn’t have form or shape or colour so it was hard to say how it did it, but the sensation was unmistakable. A kind of...darkness had withdrawn ever so slightly.

And he managed to nod.

Thank you, thank you, thank you Cad chanted desperately in his head as he kept his face in a gentle smile and reached over to Fjord, putting his large hands over the half orc’s callused ones and closing his fingers over the talisman in.

“Why don’t you keep that, Fjord?” he murmured, “I want you to have it.”

Fjord opened his mouth to insist he couldn’t but Caduceus was already shaking his head, “It’s not a promise or anything, it’s just...a gift. It’s just a gift. From one friend to another.”

Fjord bit his lip, though the anxiety in his eyes was bleeding away, “I…”

Cad’s hands were still on Fjord’s, somehow he’d not taken them away yet, “Just use it as a reminder that...you’re good, Fjord. No matter what you’ve been told, you’re fundamentally good. And change is always possible.”

“Caduceus…” It was part question, part plea for help, part just saying his name because he wanted to hear it out loud.

There was so much more he wanted to say in return, words beating in his mouth like a second heartbeat, straining for flight. Words that would chase that darkness away for good, make it flinch so he could catch it in his hands and show Fjord how small and twisted and wrong it really was, how he didn’t have to believe what it said ever again. How it had never been part of him but something he’d been forced to take.

And then everything broke into a hundred pieces as a car horn blared outside, again and again like an angry heartbeat. Both of them jumped a mile, Cad’s ears flattening against his head and Fjord whipping around as if expecting a blow.

“Oh…” he eventually said, when the shock had died down to just an unpleasant buzz in the nerves, “It’s Avantika…”

Sure enough, past the windows and the doodles of plants and mushrooms Jester had done for Cad in glass paints when he’d first opened, out on the darkened street was a car. The horn blared again, a shout into the previously calm twilight.

“She never normally comes to get me this late,” Fjord looked lost, still childlike and terrified, “Why…I should go…”

There was a pause then, a pause that could have lasted a lifetime to the two men caught in it. A possibility bloomed between them, a road opening up in a held breath. And then a choice was silently made. Fjord stood up, a different man, broader shouldered and with a set jaw and a mask on his face he’d worn for so long.

“I’m sorry, Cad,” this other man said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Right,” Cad murmured, still reeling, “Tomorrow.”

He went to stand too but then he felt it, the talisman. Not in Fjord’s hands but his own, left there, abandoned like a broken promise.

And for a moment, the other man was gone as Fjord whispered, “I’m sorry, Cad,” and fled, taking any unspoken words with him out into the night.

The door falling shut behind him sounded louder than it had any right to.

For a long time Cad stayed sat down, looking at the talisman left in his hands, all strength to stand gone out of him. He heard the car door slamming shut outside, the tyres screeching against the road as it drove away but he didn’t look to see it happen.

He didn’t understand.

Caduceus was still yawning as he walked from where he parked to the front of the cafe. He hadn’t slept well in the night, for obvious reasons, and was feeling every minute of tossing and turning as he walked through a chilly dawn.

The tiredness wasn’t helping him work out how he was going to approach Fjord today. He didn’t want things to be awkward, he didn’t want to lose a friend. But he couldn’t figure out how on earth he was supposed to keep that from happening after things had gone so disastrously wrong. Had he pushed him? Had he come off controlling? Had he seen a desire in Fjord that hadn’t really been there, that he’d only wanted to see?

Caduceus was used to being so sure of his decisions. Even when they’d been the rash, impulsive decisions of his youth, even when no one else seemed to follow his reasoning, at least he’d always been secure in his next step forward. Like the paths through the grove he’d walked so many times, he always knew where he was setting his feet.

Now he couldn’t even be sure there was ground underneath him at all. And if he didn’t find it soon, he’d lose sight of Fjord completely.

As he rounded the corner, out onto the quiet little street where his cafe stood, he realised with a sinking heart that he had no time left to figure it out. Because Fjord was already there, under the still glowing street lamp outside the door, hunched against the chill in that threadbare hoodie of his.

Cad’s ears drooped and he prayed for wisdom as he crossed the space between them, trying to smile.

“Morning, Fjord,” he called when there was still a few yards between them, “You’re early…”

The closer he got, the more his tiredness was replaced with a cold, heavy dread. Because Fjord looked fine. Far too fine. Like he was holding it that way quite deliberately because behind it all was something else.

“Uh, yeah,” even his voice was measured, like an actor delivering lines, “I came in a little early because...because I need to talk to you about something.”

“Well,” Cad turned to unlock the door, “We can talk inside, it’s a little too chilly to-”

“No,” Fjord interrupted, “I think I need to say this now, Caduceus.”

He stopped, the dread crystallising into a full on fear in his stomach, key freezing halfway in the lock, “...oh?”

“I’m leaving.”

And there it was.

Fjord broke, unable to look at him anymore, eyes falling to the pavement between them, “Avantika bought a ship. Well...we bought a ship, really but...thats why she came to get me last night, to tell me. She got tired of waiting for another captain to take us on so...so I guess we’re just doing it ourselves. We won’t be setting out right away but I need to go help get everything ready so...tomorrow’s going to be my last day.”

There was a second long pause, before the key turned in the lock with a sharp click. Cad stepped inside, still not having said a word, calmly slipping off his coat and putting on his apron, the only sign he’d heard being a tremble in his hands as he knotted it in the front.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he finally said, voice quiet, “We can talk more about the logistics of that but I need to go and get the produce out for today. You can sort out the tables. I’ll be in the store room if you need me.”

Fjord’s eyes were up, looking shocked and confused, like he’d been waiting for an explosion that hadn’t come, “Sure...yeah, I can do that…”

“Right,” Cad stepped away into the back room and down the steps into the basement, walking quickly, keeping his head up and his jaw still just in case Fjord was still looking.

It was only when the heavy door of the store room closed behind him, so he knew that he had a good ten minutes before anyone would get suspicious and enough distance that no one would hear, only then did he stop and sit down heavily on a wooden box.

Only then did Caduceus allow himself to sob.

[lordsister]

Method of Teasing (Motonari Mouri x MC)

A/N: So this is going to have chapters for Mitsuhide, Kenshin, and Mitsunari too because wow, people like this a lot more than I thought they would. Which is amazing and makes me so happy!^^

Previous chapters--> Nobunaga, Ieyasu

Thank you @thetwinkims for beta reading! And hope you enjoy it @odissey061!

I do not own Ikemen Sengoku or any of its characters. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic.

My ko-fi:  https://ko-fi.com/lordsister (please consider donating if you enjoy my work!^^)

He knew he was teasing her, the handsome bastard. He thought he could get her flustered with those tight pants and his fine ass and those smirks he sent over his shoulder at her when he caught her staring?

Well, he was damn right!

This wasn’t fair at all. Unlike most men of the Sengoku period who wore a kimono or hakama pants or other loose-fitting trousers, Motonari stood out in his form-fitting apparel, the material clinging to his muscled legs and leaving little to the imagination when it came to outlining his sculpted rear. Because that’s the only word she could use to describe it - sculpted. 

While she was more than appreciative of her lover’s physique, MC didn’t know how much more of his teasing her heart could stand. How was it that she had fallen in love with the only man in the Sengoku period who wore pants like those? Or maybe that was one of the big things that had first attracted her? She didn’t know anymore.

“Liking the view, sweetheart?” a familiar, sultry voice asked from above. Blinking, she shook her head only to realize that she had zoned out while staring at the very object of her thoughts as Motonari climbed one of the many rope ladders used to adjust the sails. “Aw, don’t be shy. It’s all yours.” 

The sensation of her cheeks lighting up was becoming uncomfortably familiar. “Motonari! Don’t say stuff like that out in the open!” As if her blush wasn’t bad enough, her voice came out as more whining than scolding, only adding to her embarrassment. Groaning, she turned around on her heel and covered her flaming face with both hands.

A heartbeat later, there was a thud on the planks next to her as her lover let go of the rope and dropped to his feet beside her. She was sure he looked amazing doing it, damn him. MC had no choice but to look at him as he settled one hand on her hip while the other grabbed her wrist, tugging her hands away from her face.“And why not, love? It’s not like it isn’t true. And everyone around here certainly knows it.”

God, the look he was giving her was the visual definition of ‘rogue,’ red eyes narrowed teasingly and lips curved up in a delicious smirk. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to smack that look off his face or kiss him breathless.

“B-Because it’s embarrassing…” she trailed off, attempting to avert her gaze only to have a finger under her chin draw it back. 

“How can I help myself when you look so cute with your cheeks all red like that?” Before she could protest, his lips captured hers in a chaste kiss that somehow managed to leave her breathless in typical Motonari fashion. “You look even cuter all kissed like that.”

‘Screw it.’ Grabbing his lapels, MC pulled him into a longer, more passionate kiss, allowing his strong arms to tug her flush against him. “What am I going to do with you?” she panted against his lips when they parted long moments later, frowning at him. 

“I don’t know.” Hands grasped sensuously at her sides and his nose brushed hers, red eyes glancing at her kiss-reddened lips. “Love me forever? Kiss me again? Take me down to our cabin and have your way with me?” 

“All of the above.”

His smirk widened. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

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‘Damn him!’ she thought, even as she stroked her fingers through his snowy locks and gazed down at him with undeniable love in her gaze. The soft smile on his face as he slumbered away with his head on her chest and his arms wrapped around her made her heart melt, it was so sweet and affectionate, so different from the pirate’s usual hardness. 

The reason behind MC’s internal cursing was the fact that she had been rendered weak under his teasing again. As much as she enjoyed the fruits of his teasing, she felt that he was more than due to receive some teasing in return. How though? More than half the time she ended up a blushing mess, helpless under his charms as he wooed her relentlessly. If she was going to tease him and win at it, she had to do something he wouldn’t expect, something that would render him just as flustered as she was when he caught her staring earlier-

Wait. 

Her hand came to a halt in his hair, her eyes flying open to focus on the ceiling planks above her. Would that work? As far as she knew, he wouldn’t expect it, not from her. Maybe it would be enough to leave him flustered too? On second thought, it was Motonari she was talking about. She had only seen him flustered a few rare instances and having his ass smacked probably wasn’t going to add to that short list.

Even so...it was worth a try. And even if he wasn’t surprised, she would probably enjoy his reaction anyway. 

Pressing her smile into her lover’s hair, she tried not to giggle too loudly as she cuddled him. She loved Motonari so much, loved seeing the new expressions and sides of him that appeared with each new experience they shared, and she couldn’t wait to see how he reacted when she gave him a taste of his own medicine.

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For the next few days after MC thought of the idea to tease him, she did her best not to give any of what she was planning away, easier said than done considering how observant he was, particularly when it came to her. She tried to keep her eyes from lingering on him, focusing on whatever was on hand instead, but she could tell her lack of attention was starting to annoy him. 

“Whatcha thinking, princess?” Motonari asked from his place at the wheel as she sat against the rail a few paces away, mending clothes and supply bags. 

Looking up, she smiled at him, trying to keep her expression from giving too much away as he peered at her from the corners of his eyes. “Not much. Why do you ask?”

His gaze slid back to the horizon, adjusting the course of the ship as the wind changed imperceptibly. “You’ve been quiet lately. Distant.” He turned back to her again, searching red eyes watching her as he kept one hand on the wheel. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Unless you counted lying in wait to spring a naughty prank as ��something wrong.” 

The Motonari she knew now really was so different from the rough, near-mad sea dog she first encountered. Before, he wouldn’t have cared a bit about such a subtle change in her behavior, would have brushed it off as long as she was still breathing and useful. She counted herself lucky to have gained his affection and learned of this new side to him. 

Gesturing to a crew member to take his place, Motonari strode over and crouched before her, taking her chin in his hand. “You know to tell me if something is wrong though.” It was more statement than question, a repetition of something he had made clear early on in their relationship.

“I know and I will.” Banishing thoughts of her prank for now, MC reached up to lace her fingers through his calloused ones. “Don’t worry, Motonari. I’m perfectly okay.” Maybe she was trying too hard not to be obvious, but truthfully she was really excited to try out what she had in mind. She hadn’t meant to worry Motonari though, and she leaned into his touch, trying to convey that she was alright and how grateful she was for his care.

“If you say so, I’ll trust you.” The hand she held suddenly tugged her to her feet, the fabric and sewing box in her lap falling to the deck as he led her down the wooden steps and towards the lower decks.

“Motonari? Where are we going?” 

“To find some food. I’m hungry and I know you are too.”

She could tell he was still trying to fix whatever was or wasn’t wrong the best way he knew how - by taking care of her basic needs - and it warmed her heart to know he was that invested in her mental and physical wellbeing. It made part of her want to tease him even more than before, to show him she could stand toe to toe with him on this too.

Leaning closer to him and returning his smile, she could barely wait to see how he reacted to what she had in store for him.

The big question, she realized, was whether she should pull her stunt in front of his crew or when they were alone together. He had always been openly affectionate with her in front of his men, but he hated appearing weak or vulnerable in front of them too. She probably spent too much time deliberating over it, but eventually she decided to do it out in the open. He was always teasing her in plain sight. It was only fair she do the same.

A few more days of waiting and there he was again, looking as magnificent as always in the sunlight as he went about ordering his crew around. It was distracting as usual, but now it made MC more nervous than before, making her fidget in place as she tried to figure out what to do with her hands. How should she hold them when she was planning on using them to smack her boyfriend’s ass?

“Oi! Are you listening to me, princess?” 

Blinking, she found her vision filled with Motonari’s frowning face a few mere inches from her own, his hands on his hips as he bent down a little to meet her gaze. “Ah, sorry. I guess I got distracted there.”

“Hmm?” Straightening, he smirked that smirk that told her teasing was about to come. “Admiring me again?”

Instead of denying it this time, she smiled secretively and said, “...Maybe.”

A fine white eyebrow lifted in delight and he tilted his head to the side. “Oh? Admitting it now?”

Meeting the playfulness in his eyes in turn, she answered, “Well, you did say it was mine after all, didn’t you?”

A few wolf whistles and low exclamations of amusement came from the crew members within ear shot, a couple of them shooting wide grins and winks her way as their captain spun on his heel to face them, turning his back to her.

“Hey! Back to work, all of you-ah!” Her hand bounced off the firm muscle of his butt and his head snapped around as the smack resounded in the air, instantly making the deck grow quiet as crew members’ jaws dropped.

The vulnerable look of surprise on his face was something she had seen only a handful of times before, an expression he made when he was well and truly caught off guard. It made her feel more triumphant than she thought it would. A smile very much like his own stretched her lips as he stared down at her, baffled. Another second later, the deck erupted into hearty guffaws and whistles, other crew members emerging from parts of the ship to see what the commotion was about. 

Motonari ignored it all, a wild light in his eyes as he licked his lips and advanced on her. She had honestly never seen him so riled up before. “My princess is feeling playful, huh?” Wrapping an arm around her as his other hand dove into the hair at the back of her head, he tilted her head up to his, his breath fanning against her face as he husked, “I like that,” before his lips attacked hers and all chaos broke loose.

Needless to say, she was much more liberal with her teasing after that.

[wistfulcynic]

Drink the Wild Air (4/?)

IN WHICH We learn more about Lieutenant William Jones, and the ship he is now a part of, and MYSTERY IS FORESHADOWED.

SUMMARY: Once upon a time a princess fell in love with a pirate. This is their story.

A Captain Duckling high-seas adventure tale in which princesses are kidnapped (OR ARE THEY), sea battles are fought, SWASH is BUCKLED and CASTLES are STORMED.

(also EVIL is VANQUISHED and FAMILIES are REUNITED)

For @thisonesatellite​ (who is somehow more delightful in person than over the internet,) @ohmightydevviepuu​ who is the best cheerleader, and @katie-dub​ who is always the loveliest. 

@darkcolinodonorgasm​​​ @kmomof4​​​​ @teamhook​ @stahlop​​ @mariakov81​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @shireness-says​ @snidgetsafan​ @xarandomdreamx @winterbaby89​​ @jennjenn615​ @facesiousbutton82​​

(please do say if you would like a tag or if you would like not a tag)

(Also on AO3) (Tumblr: Part One | Part Two | Part Three)

PART THE THIRD: LIEUTENANT WILLIAM JONES:

Lieutenant William Jones concluded, after some consideration, that he was not especially surprised to learn that life on a pirate ship was not so very different from life on a ship in service of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. A ship was a ship, after all; the same tasks needed to be performed to keep her afloat, the same command structure had to be enforced, and even the mission goals were not terribly dissimilar. The line between plunder and conquest was a very fine one, comprising delicate questions of politics in which Lt Jones took no interest. All he wanted was to sail and to see the world, and the company he kept whilst doing so mattered little. 

There were some aspects of his new pirate’s life that did surprise him. The ship they sailed was an exceptionally fine one, with impossible speed and manoeuvrability which he soon deduced could only be the result of enchantment. Once going she could maintain her momentum even without wind, and after a few weeks’ careful observation of how her captain handled her, the lieutenant began to wonder if the crew was in fact necessary at all. 

Captain Jones kept his ship in pristine order and condition, and commanded the crew with military-grade discipline. So far as he had ever considered the question, Lt Jones imagined pirates to be an unruly lot, unwashed and obstreperous and prepared at any moment to mutiny. Instead they —or at least those on the crew of the Jolly Roger— were meticulous and tidy and their respect for their captain showed in every action they took. 

There was quite a lot of carousing, however. 

And yet the only thing that truly astonished the young lieutenant was the princess. Quite apart from the extraordinary fact of a princess sailing with pirates at all, it was obvious from his earliest days among the crew that they loved her nearly as much as their captain did, and there was never any muttering about the bad luck of having a woman on board or any challenge to her authority or her place on the ship. She knew each member of the crew by name, and greeted them with a warm smile and and jest that was as effective at keeping discipline as the captain’s more traditional approach. And while Lt Jones believed that the princess’s warmth and interest were genuine, he also saw the strategy behind her actions. She needed this ship and its crew for something, some purpose far outside the usual purview of a pirate ship, and the best way to ensure the crew’s cooperation in unusual or trying circumstances would be to win their loyalty. 

~

His first few weeks aboard the ship were spent in the infirmary, definitely a surprising experience for the young lieutenant. Infirmaries on naval vessels were grim places where the stench of blood and rotting flesh was infused into the very walls and men were as like to die of disease as of any injury sustained in battle. The infirmary aboard the Jolly Roger was, by contrast, utterly pristine, with cots covered in clean linen and instruments crafted of gleaming metal and air that carried a sharp, astringent odour, not wholly pleasant but compared to the putrefaction the lieutenant was accustomed to, vastly to be preferred. It was run with an iron fist and an air of benign insanity by a man who introduced himself as “Whale” and did not amputate Lt Jones’s leg. 

Lt Jones, who had already resigned himself to the loss of his limb, found he was almost disappointed. He’d been rather enjoying the notion of himself as a proper peg-legged pirate. But Whale informed him, with a grin that exposed rather more teeth than seemed appropriate for a human head, that there was no need to waste a perfectly useful and very well-formed body part, and proceeded to hand Lt Jones a rag soaked in liquid and wafting fumes with the same pungent aroma that permeated the air and instructed him to hold it to his face. This he did, hesitantly at first and then with greater enthusiasm as the edges of his vision blurred pleasantly and his body went numb, and he he began to fancy he was floating. 

He watched with detached curiosity as Whale deftly reset the crushed bone in his leg, secured it within a splint constructed of thin and flexible slats of wood then wrapped the whole affair up with strips of fine linen dipped in a substance that looked like wet clay, watery and pale grey, mottled with specks of green. After twenty-four hours this clay had dried to form a remarkably solid and resilient cast, and Whale’s pallid face wore a pleased expression as he rapped his knuckles up and down the length of it. 

“Hmm, yes,” he said, nodding in approval and flashing a grin that raised goose pimples on Lt Jones’s arms. “That will do nicely.” 

 From the infirmary’s supply closet he produced a selection of wooden crutches, which he proceeded to measure against the lieutenant’s back until he found the one best suited to his height. This he instructed Lt Jones to use to take daily exercise on the decks, along with a regimen of lifting, bending and stretching designed to keep his muscles strong and limber and his joints flexible. Lt Jones followed these instructions to the letter and after a week or so Whale permitted him to spend several hours a day performing menial tasks alongside the crew, provided they did not result in getting his cast wet. The remainder of each day he spent in the infirmary, resting and drinking cups of bitter tea at regular intervals under Whale’s glittering and watchful eyes.

After several weeks of this routine Whale pronounced that the time had come to remove the cast. He began by making a fissure down the length of it with a hammer and a tiny chisel, then gripped it tightly on either side and wrenched the whole thing apart into two equal pieces like the shell of a walnut, revealing a perfectly healed and unscarred leg within. 

Lt Jones stared at it. “But— how?” he stammered. 

“Healing herbs in the clay,” said Whale. “Among other things.” He gave the empty teacup in Lt Jones’s hand a significant glance and grinned his jovial, manic grin, and Lt Jones reflected that perhaps the prospect of leaving the infirmary, hopefully for good, was not at all a bad thing. 

Once Whale had swabbed the clinging bits of clay from his leg with a clean linen cloth dipped in another mysterious solution, Lt Jones stood from his cot and gingerly put weight on his newly healed limb. Finding it as hale and whole and sturdy as ever, he began to walk around the room, at first cautiously then with more confidence, even capping his tour by dancing a little jig. 

“Excellent,” said Whale, his pale eyes glinting. “I’ll have to remember that formulation. Most, most excellent.” 

At that moment there was a knock on the door and the quartermaster’s mate appeared, holding a stack of fresh and neatly folded clothes for Lt Jones plus his own shoes, cleaned and shined. Gratefully abandoning the split trousers and single slipper he had worn for the duration of his convalescence, Lt Jones dressed quickly and followed the quartermaster’s mate, a man called Teynte, to the crew’s quarters where he found waiting for him his own bunk, sea chest, and leather flask. 

“Bunk t’ sleep, chest t’ keep, and flask t’ drink, said Teynte cheerfully.

Lt Jones sniffed the flask dubiously. “Drink what?” he asked. 

“Grog, o’ course,” said Teynte. “The cap’n’s right generous wi’ it.” 

“Grog? You mean rum.” 

“Aye, rum ’tis, along wi’ lemons and a touch o’ sugar. Ye’d best drink it, Navy lad, it keeps ye healthy, so it do. There be times, weeks on end as can be, when we sees no food but fish and ship’s biscuit, ye’ll be grateful fer a spot o’ grog then t’ stave off th’ scurvy.” 

“Hmmm,” said Lt Jones. “I see your point.” Scurvy was rampant in the Queen’s Navy and he had witnessed with his own eyes the suffering it caused. Raising the flask first in toast to Teynte’s good health and then to his lips he took a cautious sip. The liquid was sharp and burned down his throat, but it was not altogether unpleasant. He sipped again, more generously. “I believe I could get used to this,” he said with a grin. 

“Haha! We’ll make a pirate o’ ye yet, laddie!” cried Teynte with a clap to his back that nearly sent him reeling. “Reckon the princess be right about ye.” 

~

Lieutenant Jones had of course noticed—it hadn’t taken him long—that he was the object of particular scrutiny from both the princess and the captain. More than once he had felt their eyes upon him as he did his daily exercise on the deck, and each had—separately and, he suspected, without the other’s knowledge— stopped in to see him in the infirmary, with overly casual airs and subtle but pointed questions concerning the progress of his recovery. 

A month or so after he had fully taken up his duties aboard the ship he began to get an inkling of the purpose behind their interest. The day was a bright and sunny one, freshened by a cool, salty breeze that bore a hint of spice, and Princess Emma and Captain Jones were up on deck for one of their regular sparring sessions. The crew, though they mostly succeeded in appearing to keep their attention on their tasks, watched closely, Lt Jones among them. A very active and hotly contested betting pool on the outcomes of these sessions flourished below decks; although they nearly always ended in a draw, as Smee informed Lt Jones, the crew held out hope that some day one of the two of them would actually manage to defeat the other. And on that halcyon day one of the crew would make a killing off it. 

A pirate’s life indeed. 

Lt Jones could not help thinking that today was likely not that day. In swordplay as indeed in most things the combatants were remarkably well matched, with the captain’s greater height and strength balanced perfectly by the princess’s speed and precision. What amused him more than any speculation over who—if anyone—might win was the way they sparred with words as well as with blades, taunts and innuendoes flying fast and thick as they feinted, thrust, and parried. When the match ended—in a draw, of course—both participants were panting and dripping sweat, and eyeing each other in a way that made Lt Jones long for some shore leave. 

However on that morning rather than ushering the princess to their cabin and bolting the door behind them, Captain Jones approached his lieutenant of the same name, and offered the younger Jones his blade. 

“Care to have a go, lad?” he asked, with a quirked eyebrow and a small grin.

“Against the princess?” stammered Lt Jones. 

“Aye.” The captain’s grin widened. “Think you can handle her?” 

“Er… no, if I’m honest.” 

Captain Jones laughed. “That is the correct answer, my boy. Try anyway. Show us what you’ve got.” 

Lt Jones stared at the man, searching his face for any sign of trickery. When he detected none he cautiously accepted the proffered sword and gave it an experimental swing. Though far from an expert in sword design he could tell instantly that the balance of the blade and the hilt was perfect, the result of expert craftsmanship. He swung it again, trying to get a feel for it. Princess Emma stood watching him with an amused expression and casual posture, though it did not escape his notice that she stood on the balls of her feet with her shoulders back, prepared at any moment to spring into action. 

“Ready to go, Lieutenant?” she asked. 

He bowed. “When you are, Your Highness.” 

She attacked first, leaping smoothly into the exact move he had expected her to make, with such a speed and skill that he was only barely able to parry it. Their blades met with a clang of metal and he felt the vibrations all the way up his arm. Her slender appearance was deceptive, he realised; she was far stronger than he’d thought, with a skill that could only come from many years of training under the tutelage of a master. He was in way, way over his head. 

On the strength of that realisation, he altered his strategy. This was not a fight he could win, not through skill at any rate, but he might be able to bring it to a draw. She was tired from her earlier sparring with the captain, but he was fresh, and if he could just avert a killing blow he might be able to outlast her. 

He concentrated on deflecting her attacks, holding her off but never moving in himself, never giving her the opportunity to dart in around him as he swung his sword arm as he had seen her do to the captain. He danced around the deck, forcing her to chase him as she advanced, defending, defending, defending until finally she held up her sword. 

“All right,” she said. “I’m calling it. It’s a draw.” 

Her next words were quiet, drowned out by the cheers of the crew. They were for his ears alone. “A draw in this case means you won,” she said. “Well played.”

“Well played indeed,” said Captain Jones, clapping him on the back. “You’re quite a clever lad, aren’t you?” 

“I like to think so, sir.” 

“And one with a sound instinct for survival.” 

“Yes.” 

“Excellent.” Captain Jones squeezed his shoulder. “Excellent.” A look passed between him and the princess, one Lt Jones could not decipher. “Well, now you’ve had your fun, Lieutenant, I’m afraid it’s back to work for you!��� 

“Aye, sir!” 

The captain turned away and put his arm around the princess’s shoulders. Hers slipped around his waist and they headed off to their cabin together. 

~

Three weeks later, Lt Jones received a message summoning him to the captain’s quarters. He presented himself to Mr Smee, who was standing guard outside the door and gave it a sharp knock on his behalf, and was bade enter by a curt ‘Yes’ from within. Smee opened the door to reveal the captain sitting at his desk with maps and documents strewn out around him, and the princess standing at his side with her hand on his shoulder. 

“Ah, young Jones,” said the captain. “Right on time. Come in and shut the door behind you.” 

[cycwrites]

Switching Gears Part 3 - Karaoke Innuendos

Words: 4250

Rating: M (Eventually. I think.)

Also on AO3 and FFN

Tumblr Master Post

As always, thanks to @tiny-maus-boots for all the Beta’ing and support. I literally could do none of this without you.

Special thanks to @zentamaus & @isthemusictoblame for putting up with my random bouts of insecurity in the middle of the night.

----------------------------

~A~

Aubrey pushed her bike through the door to Beca’s shop, grumbling to herself.

“Chain or bell?”

The amusement in Beca’s voice was clear and Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I could just be coming to say hello.”

“True.” Beca nodded from where she was leaning against the counter in the back. “But you look pissed and it’s been over two weeks since you needed a chain – so my guess is bell.” She made a show of peering at Aubrey’s handlebars as she got close and nodded. “Looks like I’d be right.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Aubrey parked the bike beside the counter and huffed out a breath as she took off her helmet and hung it from a handle. “Fine. Bell.”

“I’m going to start ordering them in bulk at this rate.” Beca pushed herself up on the counter and pulled up her legs to swing around and land behind it. She rummaged on a shelf for a second before pulling out a new bell and setting it between them. “Or you could just… stop replacing it?”

“And let her win?” Aubrey snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“And what… exactly… would she be winning?” Beca leaned her elbow on the counter and propped her chin on her hand. “Is there a prize?”

“The war, Beca.” Aubrey shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh I understand,” Beca said as she straightened up again. “I understand you’re both insane and I haven’t even met the other woman.” Beca frowned and Aubrey returned it reflexively. “Have you even laid eyes on her since that first day?”

“No.” Aubrey dug her thin card holder from its place in her bra. “But I don’t need to. She keeps parking in my spot.”

“You’re hopeless.” Beca pushed away the debit card Aubrey tried to hand her. “And while the businesswoman in me says to take your money, your friend can’t do it anymore.” She grabbed the bell and walked around it to Aubrey’s bike. “Except the chain and lock. If you insist on throwing the nice ones away, I’m going to charge you for it.” She stripped the bell of its packaging as she walked. “I should order you some cheap pieces of crap I wouldn’t normally sully my shelves with so you can stop losing your main.”

Aubrey watched as Beca quickly affixed the bell in just the right spot. “Thanks, Beca.” She knew it was silly and probably (definitely) childish – and let’s not forget petty – but the fact that the woman kept parking in her spot triggered Aubrey in a way she couldn’t explain.

“You’ll just have to buy me an extra drink at karaoke.” Beca gave the bell a ring and winced. “I still have no idea why you like this thing.”

“My dad got me one as a kid.” Aubrey shrugged. “When I finally rode it without the training wheels, he put it on so I could warn people.” She smiled at the memory. “I may have almost run over the neighbor’s yappy dog once because I was a speed demon.”

“Alright, I can get behind nostalgia and that explains spin class.” Beca frowned as she looked around the shop. “Is Lilly even in today?” Before Aubrey could answer Beca shrugged. “Eh, I’m the owner; I can close a little early if I want to.” She looked at Aubrey. “Can you turn off the open sign and lock the door while I count down the register and lock away the moolah?”

“No one but mobsters say moolah, Beca.” Aubrey laughed as she walked toward the front of the room.

“Oh yeah? Know a lot of mobsters, do you?” Beca said as she popped open the cash drawer. “Is there a secret life of yours I don’t know about?”

“Maybe.” Aubrey turned off the sign and double checked that no one was walking up before she locked the door. Beca snorted behind her. “You don’t know. Besides, I would rock a three piece suit.” She walked back toward Beca who had paused, eyeing her.

“I was going to make a sarcastic comment but sheer honesty forces me to admit you would in fact rock a three piece suit.” Beca’s head tilted to the side. “Would that make me your driver?”

“Thank you.” Aubrey said crisply then grinned. “Probably my right hand gal.” Aubrey leaned on the counter. “Jack of all trades type.”

“I dig it.” Beca grabbed a calculator and a notepad. “You need a moll.”

“I do?” Aubrey considered. “I suppose every good mobster should a pretty woman with brains on their arm.” One brow arched. “Are you volunteering?”

“Please. I’m much better as your jack of all trades.” Beca shook her head. “I was more thinking Chloe.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I should’ve seen that coming. I’ve told you, that ship has sailed.”

“Then the only other woman I’ve seen you get remotely flustered over is the enemy.” Beca began to count the money in her till. “Now shut up and don’t start saying numbers like you did last time.”

“Me?” Aubrey blinked innocently. “I would never. Also, there’s no way the bell thief could be my girl.”

“Mmhmm. Seems to me a thief would be a perfect girl for a mobster.” Beca said, writing down totals. “But whatever you say, Aubrey. I might even believe you if you didn’t get red cheeked whenever you talk about her.”

Aubrey gasped. “I do not!” She rubbed at her cheeks before she realized what she was doing. “That’s anger, Beca. Not… whatever you’re implying.”

Beca looked at Aubrey out of the corner of her eye. “You do realize that every denial you give me only makes me think I’m right and you’ve got a serious crush on your nemesis despite only seeing her the one time.”

“Then you’re clearly deluded.” Aubrey pushed off the counter and walked down one of the aisles.

“Clearly,” Beca muttered behind her. “Now stop distracting me.”

“Then stop baiting me.” Aubrey shot back.

They spent the next ten minutes in companionable silence as Beca checked her numbers twice before finally putting the money in a lockable pouch which then went in her safe.  Aubrey wheeled her bike to the front of the store and waited.

“Alright.” Beca turned off the lights. “Time to go.” She waved Aubrey out the door before setting her security system. “No peeking.”

“Like I couldn’t figure out your code if I really wanted to.” Aubrey pulled on her helmet.

Beca locked the door behind her. “Alright, let’s go channel some of that anger elsewhere and go get you hopped up on your Ladies of the 80’s.”

“I’ll have you know I also enjoy songs from the 90’s.” Aubrey swung her leg over her bike.

“That’s still nothing from this century.” Beca said, pulling on her own helmet.

“Shut up and get on the package carrier, hobbit. Or do you need me to lift you up?” Aubrey said dryly.

“You’re going to pay for that, Posen.” Beca climbed onto the back of Aubrey’s bike and gripped her waist. “Just you wait.”

“My father is military, Beca. I’ll always see you comin’.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Beca patted her hip. “Now mush!”

“Did you just call me a bitch?” Aubrey said as she began to pedal down the sidewalk with Beca’s laughter filling the early evening air behind them.

The ride to the L&L was relatively short, only a mile and a half away from Beca’s shop. Lyrics & Libations was a karaoke bar owned by two of Beca’s friends who had, eventually, adopted Aubrey as one of their own. Beca had dragged her in the second she found out Aubrey could sing and the two of them had a standing table reservation every Friday night.

Once Aubrey had stopped her bike, Beca hopped off the back and took off her helmet. She ran her hand through her hair. “I hate these things.”

“Helmet hair is a small price to pay for keeping your brains inside your skull, Beca.” Aubrey walked over to an afterthought bike rack that had been added to the sidewalk and secured her bike to it. Though it was big enough for three bikes, Aubrey had never seen anyone else use it.

“It’s not just that. It makes my head sweaty.” Beca preceded her to the door and opened it. “Especially on warm days like today.”

“Thank you,” Aubrey said, taking off her own helmet as she walked into the L&L. Beca had a point, the cool air conditioning felt good after all the pedaling. “Hello Cynthia Rose.” She hugged the beautiful black woman lounging on the stool by the door. “Had to throw anyone out today?”

The deceptively short bouncer laughed. “Not today but the night’s still young, Aubrey!” She looked past her to Beca. “Shorty.” She held out her hand.

“CR.” Beca eyed it. “You’re not seriously trying to card us, are you?”

“Please. I know better. Even if you still look fifteen.” Cynthia Rose rolled her eyes. “Gimme five.”

“Dollars?” Beca grinned at her. “Since when did you start charging covers on non-band nights?”

“Oh.” Cynthia Rose dropped her hand. “I see. We only charge those that are trying to be a smart ass.”  She clicked her tongue. “So you’re probably going to be poor before too long.”

“Don’t push her, Beca.” Aubrey moved to stand next to Cynthia Rose. “She’ll chuck you out like she did that college guy last month.” He hadn’t believed someone as short as Cynthia Rose could subdue him physically much less toss him out on his ass. Until said ass had hit the pavement and the door had closed behind him.

“Alright alright.” Beca held up her hand. “I’m sorry.” She held up her fist. “Hit me.”

“I oughta hit you.” Cynthia Rose muttered but gave Beca a fist bump. “You guys are early tonight.”

“I didn’t feel like working till closing.” Beca shrugged. “Don’t think Lilly was in to close, so I just locked up.”

“’You don’t think’?” Cynthia Rose snorted. “What if you locked her in there?”

“She’s got a key and the code.” Beca shrugged. “Come find us on your break, we’ll buy you a shot or two.”

“Deal.” Cynthia Rose looked toward the door as it creaked behind them. “Now get your ass out of my doorway so I can greet these nice folks behind you.” She winked at Aubrey. “See you in a bit, Posen.”

“Look forward to it.” Aubrey smiled at her and pushed Beca ahead of her into the main room. “You want me to get the first round?”

Beca shook her head. “Nah, I’m going to take advantage of the round you owe me when you’re too drunk to realize I’m ordering the good stuff.” Holding out her hand, she continued. “Gimme your helmet and I’ll have the girls stow them for us.”

“Thanks, Beca.” Aubrey handed it over with a smile. Making her way to the table at the right corner of the stage, Aubrey took the seat that put her back to the wall. Shrugging off her small backpack she dug around in it until she found her brush. Taking out the hair tie holding her long hair into a loose ponytail she ran the brush through it.

“Grooming?”

Aubrey ignored Beca and continued getting out the tangles that her helmet had caused. “You know you want to use it.”

“Maybe.” Beca set down a small tray that held two glasses of water and two bottles of beer. “I’ll be back, Jess made me promise to bring the tray right back.”

Setting the brush on the table, Aubrey picked up one of the bottles. “Okay.” She took a drink. “I’ll be here.” She waited until Beca had turned around and started back toward the bar. “Drinking your beer.”

“Woman…” Beca threatened. “Don’t you dare.”

“Better hurry.” Aubrey settled back in her seat with a grin, already trying to decide what they were going to sing tonight. She eyed the room, nodding at some regulars.

“Your turn.” Beca said, dropping into the seat to her left. “I’ve already got your first song down.”

“That was quick.” Aubrey eyed the two new bottles of beer that had appeared on the table. “You really thought I’d drink yours?”

“Yes.” Beca said, carefully pulling two of the bottles in front of her. “Like you haven’t before.” She picked up Aubrey’s brush and ran it through her hair.

“True.” Aubrey shrugged and stood. “I’ll be back.”

Taking the first bottle with her, Aubrey made her way to the end of the bar, patiently waiting as other people put down song choices.

“Hey Aubrey!” The brunette in charge of the song list smiled at her. “Beca giving you any of those beers?”

“Hello Ashley.” Aubrey held up her bottle. “At least one of them.” She stepped up to the bar and opened the giant binder of songs. “Am I going to like what she picked for me?”

“Maybe?” Ashley shrugged and grinned at her. “You know I can’t tell you.” In fact the top half of the paper had been hastily covered with a napkin so that Aubrey couldn’t see what had been written down.

“True.” Aubrey took a drink of her beer and pursed her lips. “Guess I’ll have to get her from the start.”

“That’s my girl.” Ashley held out the pen. “Can’t give that one an inch.”

“Bree!”

Taking the pen, Aubrey looked up as a blonde head appeared over Ashley’s shoulder. “Hi Jessica. Looks like they’re keeping you busy over there.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Jessica rested her chin on Ashley’s shoulder. “Denise will be here soon.”

Aubrey wrote Beca’s name on the sheet sitting on the bar, followed by her song. “You guys still on for the group song later?”

“Are you kidding?” Ashley laughed. “Jess has been practicing all week.” She kissed the side of her girlfriend’s head. “Now go pour those nice people some drinks and make mama some money.”

“Yes dear,” Jessica waved at Aubrey. “I’ll come say hi in a bit.” She went back to the other end of the bar, already greeting the people waiting for her.

“See you.” Aubrey called after her. “Thanks, Ash.” She pushed the paper back across the bar.

Ashley looked at the song and laughed. “No no, thank you.”

“You know she secretly loves it.” Aubrey said as she turned.

“You look too pleased with yourself.” Beca said as Aubrey sat back down.

“Just said hi to the girls.” Aubrey went to take another drink and found the bottle empty. “Oops. Guess I should’ve left that up there.” She set it down and picked up the other. “Thanks for thinking ahead.”

“You’ve been looking… thirsty lately.” Beca said.

“Oh for the love of…” Aubrey shook her head. “I am not thirsty Beca.”

“Mmm. Sure.” Beca laughed and ducked the napkin Aubrey threw at her.

“You are the worst,” she groaned.

“You mean the best.” Beca said airily. “Now hush, things are starting.”

Laughing, Aubrey settled down and watched the first person take the stage.

As former college championship winning a capella singers, Jessica and Ashley seemed to attract a higher level of karaoke aficionados to the L&L. Rarely did you get someone who was off-key – at least not intentionally. Aubrey herself wasn’t above singing something badly for effect. But tonight everyone was on point and she was enjoying herself so much she’d almost forgotten that she’d be going up soon.

“Aubrey, you’re up.”

She looked up, startled as Ashley called her name. “Oh, right.”

“Have fun,” Beca said as Aubrey stood up.

“Should I be afraid?” Aubrey stepped up on the stage and took the microphone off the stand.

“Always, Bree.” Beca nodded. “Always.”

Aubrey narrowed her eyes then looked at the monitor as the opening notes of ‘Call Me Maybe’ started. She allowed herself one moment of annoyance, because while she did like the song she knew why Beca was making her sing it. But she was Aubrey Posen and she never backed away from anything in her life. She would sell the shit out of this. By the end of it the room was singing along with her and Aubrey waved after she put the mic back on the stand. She went back to her table and took her seat.

“Nicely done, Posen.” Beca held out a fresh beer.

“Thank you.” Aubrey took it and took a long drink. “I think I sense a theme for the night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Beca took a drink of her own.

Instead of answering, Aubrey merely turned back to the stage as the next person stepped up. Even as she clapped and sang with the next songs, she was busily trying to figure out how to get even.

When Beca saw the song Aubrey had picked, she groaned. “Not this song, Bree. It’s so overplayed.”

“Shut up and sing, Mitchell.” Aubrey grinned.

Beca put on her Resting Bitch Face and her whiniest voice for the start of ‘TiK ToK’ but by the chorus she’d given in and was bouncing around the stage to the cheers of the crowd. When she’d finally taken her chair again Aubrey pushed her shoulder.

“You’re no longer allowed to tell me you hate Kesha. I know it’s a lie and so does everyone else who saw you just now.”

“Yeah yeah.” Beca took a drink of her beer as she tried to catch her breath.

The rest of the night continued in much the same pattern.

Beca made Aubrey sing Avril Lavigne’s ‘Girlfriend’ and Sophie B. Hawkins’ ‘Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover’ while Aubrey had made her sing Meredith Brook’s ‘Bitch’ and ‘When I Grow Up’ by Garbage. Not that either of those songs were ones that Beca wouldn’t enjoy but at this point Aubrey was just trying to use the titles to make a point – no matter how obscure. There was a brief truce as they sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with Jessica and Ashley, almost causing a riot when they bowed out of doing an encore.

Aubrey debated on the last song, but there just weren’t enough casual-insults-between-friends songs that she felt were appropriate. She’d been looking through P!nk’s song list, discarding ‘Trouble’, though appropriate, and ‘Blow Me (One Last Kiss)’ before deciding to just pick a fun song to end the night on: ‘Raise Your Glass.’

Beca, however, had other ideas.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Aubrey laughed as ‘I Touch Myself’ by the Divinyls started.

“Hey, it’s from the ‘90’s!” Beca called from the table.

I love myself, I want you to love me When I feel down, I want you above me I search myself, I want you to find me I forget myself, I want you to remind me

A plan was slowly forming in her mind and she worked the stage but kept her eyes directly on Beca as she sang. Then she left the stage and slunk toward Beca, whose eyes were getting wider the closer Aubrey got. And the quieter, more intimate her singing became.

I close my eyes and see you before me Think I would die if you were to ignore me A fool could see just how much I adore you I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you

Aubrey stepped behind Beca, her fingertips running from one shoulder to the other across her back. She resisted the impulse to laugh when she felt Beca shiver.

I don't want anybody else When I think about you, I touch myself Ooh, I don't want anybody else Oh no, oh no, oh no

She continued moving around until she could drape herself across Beca’s lap, noticing how Beca flushed instantly, a nice, deep red going all the way down under her collar.

I want you I don't want anybody else When I think about you, I touch myself Ooh ooh ooh ooh ah ah ah ah oh ah

She crooned into Beca’s ear, much softer than the song called for and traced the spike that ran through the lobe. Beca’s sudden indrawn breath was audible through the microphone and now Aubrey let the smile free as she slid from Beca’s lap and strutted back to the stage to finish it. As the song drew to a close she took a bow as whistles filled the room. Ashley came up and took the microphone from her, smirking.

“And that’s the last song for the night. Thank you all for a great night of music and we hope to see you again soon!” Turning off the mic she placed it back in the stand and turned to Aubrey. “I think you killed her.”

Aubrey shrugged. “She started it.”

“Agreed.” Ashley pushed her toward the table. “Go sit while we clear everyone out. I need a drink with my friends.”

“Like I’d say no to that.” Aubrey laughed and went back to the table where Beca was steadily draining the last of her beer.

“Nice song choice, Mitchell.” Aubrey leaned back in her chair.

“I’ll never make that mistake again,” she vowed. “You win.”

“A Posen always wins.” Aubrey laughed. “You really did bring it on yourself.”

“Yup. I see that now.” Beca drummed her fingers on the table. “You’re a very wicked woman, Aubrey.”

“When the situation calls for it.” Aubrey shrugged. “Ashley told us to hang out while everyone leaves.”

“’Kay.” Beca’s face was deliberately neutral and Aubrey wondered what was going on behind eyes that were not-so-casually avoiding looking at her.

The two of them sat in silence, not uncomfortable but Aubrey could almost hear Beca thinking as the seconds ticked by. Even Aubrey could admit that what she’d done had some effect on her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten that close to someone; Beca’s riding behind her on the bike didn’t count. But this was her best friend and Aubrey didn’t think of her that way.

At least… not until now. Maybe Beca was right and Aubrey really just needed to get laid.

“So, is there something going on between you two that we don’t know about?” Jessica interrupted her thoughts as she, Ashley, Denise and Cynthia Rose approached the table.

“Nope.” Aubrey smiled innocently. “Just singing songs.”

“No.” Beca confirmed. “Aubrey likes her brunettes taller, apparently.”

Cynthia Rose set down the bottle of vodka she’d brought over. “Are we still talking about the chick that Aubrey’s having some bike war with?”

“That’s the one.” Beca waited as the four of them pulled over chairs and Ashley set down the stack of shot glasses she was carrying.

“Beca.” Aubrey sighed. “For the last time. I don’t even know if she likes women.”

Jessica carefully poured shots for all of them. “You know, the way you said that, it makes me think you’re interested in finding out.”

“Thank you!” Beca picked up her glass. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.”

Aubrey scowled and picked up her own shot and downed it. “That is not what I meant. At all.”

Except maybe it was, because her memory of that day had changed. She no longer thought of it with anger and even now she was only triggered by seeing That Bike in her spot. But… she sort of wished she remembered more of what the other woman looked like because in memory her voice was nice and the annoyingly vague impression she had was someone who was pretty. Plus, despite it all… she had called Aubrey cute. Sort of.

“I mean, it sounds like that’s what you meant.” Denise threw back her shot. “Like, you’re personally interested in finding out if she likes women or not.”

“You didn’t even know if Chloe liked women when you told me you were thinking of asking her out,” Beca pointed out. “So why is this one different?”

“She’s an insufferable woman who keeps stealing the bell off my bike. I couldn’t care less if she likes women.” Aubrey set her glass down and picked up the bottle to pour another. “And you can all fuck off.”

“Now look who’s getting uppity.” Cynthia Rose shook her head. “You know what they say ‘bout protesting too much.”

“Can we please talk about anything else?” Aubrey closed her eyes. “Did you guys give Beca this much crap over that DSM woman?”

“Aub...” Beca held up her hand.

“Wait – what about the blonde German goddess… exactly?” Ashley leaned forward. “Have you been holding out on us, Beca?”

“Thanks, Aubrey.” Beca picked up the vodka and ignored the shot glass, taking a drink directly from the bottle.

Aubrey smiled sweetly at her. “You’re welcome.”

Jessica held up two fingers. “First, I can’t believe either of you didn’t tell us whatever you’re about to reveal sooner.” She folded her middle finger and pointed at Beca who snorted. “Second, that’s gross and now you have to buy the whole bottle.”

“There’s no story here.” Beca muttered and handled the bottle to Denise who took a swig. “You know I hate that woman.”

“See my previous statement about protesting too much…” Cynthia Rose turned to Aubrey. “Spill.”

Aubrey leaned back in her chair. “Well... Beca thinks her sweat smells like cinnamon…” Beca just groaned and let her forehead rest on the table.  Aubrey smiled as the rest of the girls begged for more details.  Maybe now Beca would let the whole ‘you’re into the aggravating gym woman’ thing drop.

Because Aubrey had a sneaking suspicion she might be right. And that was definitely not allowed.

[tunesscribbles]

Portgas D Ace x Reader   Nights

a 4 + 1 style fic | gender neutral reader | subheadings from ‘Shake It Out’ - Florence and the Machine

I I like to keep some things to myself

You heaved the unconscious body on the ship before fully climbing onto it yourself. That marked his- what? 87th failed murder attempt on Whitebeard? It was also at least the fifth time you had to fish him out of the ocean since devil fruit users can't swim. You shivered in the chilly night air. Nothing better than a dive into freezing water in the middle of the night! You really hoped you wouldn't catch a cold as you wrung out your hair and clothes a little.

You were seriously doubting this guy's sense of self-preservation. It was clear as day that he would never be successful. Ironically enough, the only one getting injured due to his murder attempts is himself. So why does he keep doing it?

You accepted the towels another crew member handed you with a thanks. Next to you Ace seemed to become conscious again. You wondered what was going on in his head. Definitely nothing too cheerful, judging by the way he curled into himself, knees brought up, arms folded above and head resting on top. Although he made a pitiful sight with seawater dripping from his body and collecting in a puddle under him, he seemed anything but defeated.

This stubborn idiot was going to try again, wasn't he? You wouldn't put it past him to go for it this very night. Instead of asking him why or trying to convince him not to, like many had tried before you, you threw a towel over his shoulders and moved to sit down.

You lifted your gaze upwards to look at the sky. Not a cloud in sight, no moon either, just billions of twinkling dots. The past few days had been cloudy and childish as it may be, you had missed the stars, just a little. No matter where you are in the world, the stars look the same. They were a source of comfort.

You heard Ace shift as he reluctantly began to dry himself with the towel. Oh, right. For a moment you completely forgot about him. Weren't you supposed to try to talk to him?

"Okay, so..." Strong start, already getting weaker. This was a terrible idea all around. You threw a glance at him to find him looking up at the sky like you were before. There was a certain glint in his eyes, like he was trying to remember where they kept the weapons on this ship.

You sighed. "At least try not to fall into the ocean again tonight." You got up to leave him to his own (certainly self-destructive) devices. "Ain't no man above a common cold!"

II I'm damned if I do, I'm damned if I don't

As soon as Ace finally accepted the invitation and became part of the crew, he defended Whitebeard's name with such vigor that you wondered if he was putting in an extra effort to try to compensate for his earlier actions or if he was simply this much of a ride-or-die person. The more time you spent with him, the more you leaned towards the latter.

It surprised you how lively and open the freckled male turned out to be once he lowered his guard. He seemed so different from the troubled teenager Whitebeard had picked up. Ace was actually easy to talk to and the two of you got along well.

The stars shone dimly through a thin layer of clouds as you were about to land on the next island.

"Lets go grab some food, my treat.", he offered. He stood next to you and spun his bright orange hat on his finger. That hat was frankly ridiculous! As if he was pretending to be some sort of cowboy-pirate.

"You never pay for your food.", you remarked and raised your eyebrows at him.

"That's not-" The hat slipped of his finger and in an attempt to catch it Ace almost threw it into the ocean. He composed himself again and adjusted his trademark clothing item on his head. "I'll pay this time, it'll be nice."

He seemed nervous, why was he nervous? You squinted your eyes at him in a scrutinizing look.

"You're planning something, I don't trust you when you're planning something. You had a prank war with Thatch last week and now you want to pay for someone else's food when you never even pay for your own?"

The look in his eyes was a mixture of panic and suffering like a plan gone wrong. You knew it!

He threw his hands up in defeat. "You know what? Forget it! I bet it wouldn't have worked anyway!" and then his words became unintelligible as he grumbled to himself. Something about being damned if Marco was right and how it was not even that big of a deal, whatever 'it' was. You would feel bad for him, if you had not just dodged a prank.

"Aw, don't be like that! I can help you trick someone else, if you want.", you tried to cheer him up. "Take a look at the stars! It's the perfect night to cause some mischief. Just because I didn't fall for it, doesn't mean no one else will." The more you talked, the more you got the feeling of being on the wrong ship and sailing away into the distant land of "I-really-fucked-this-up-but-I-don't-know-what-I-missed".

That feeling was further enhanced by Ace glancing at you sideways and saying: "You are terrible at this." in a way that made you question what exactly 'this' was and at what point during the conversation the two of started to talk about completely different topics.

There was a hint of amusement in his voice though and you decided to latch onto it to stop this talk from hurtling towards becoming a ship wreck.

"Well, we all have to be something, don't we?" There you go, he laughed. Another interaction salvaged. "We can still go and grab some food, if you'd rather do that."

He pulled a face. "Nah, I don't feel like paying for it anymore."

Now it was your turn to throw up your arms.

III I've been a fool and I've been blind

You hissed as the doctor cleaned out your wound before bandaging it. Next to you Ace winced in sympathy.

You were slightly unsure what to do with him these days. Over time you became good friends, however at some point there has been a shift in your dynamic. Whereas conversations used to flow naturally and hanging out with each other was comfortable, nowadays everything seemed to be accompanied by an underlying tension. An odd sense of nervousness would spread between you and like a wrench thrown into the conversational clockwork, it would bring everything to an awkward standstill. Suddenly you were overly aware of every aspect of yourself that could pass as a flaw and the various ways in which you could ruin this friendship you have come to treasure.

Ace was still uncharactaristicaly silent when you left the infirmary. You gently bumped your shoulder with his to gain his attention.

"I can almost hear you inventing new ways to blame yourself, stop that. It wasn't your fault."

"I was supposed to watch your back!", he said through gritted teeth.

"You did! Otherwise I wouldn't be here to tell you not to beat yourself up. Even if you didn't, it was my fault for not paying attention." His mouth was already open to come back with another argument but you cut him off. "No! No arguing. End of discussion."

And apparently also end of conversation because another tense silence followed your words. You heaved a sigh so heavy it could have sunk a whole ship.

Your fingers brushed past his hand and he flinched away like you burned him. Which was ironic, considering he was the one with the fire powers. This right here is what you were talking about. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why was everything amped up to a hundred and then some? The smallest touch could set everything ablaze and words were weighed down with double meanings and it hurt and still. All you could think was how much you wanted to hold his hand and maybe, maybe-

Something clicked into place. Something you had known in the back of you mind for a while but just now realized. Oh, you thought.

 Oh

The fact that Ace smelled distractingly like bonfire did not help with the overall situation.

IV Here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road

"Do you have to be so disgustingly in love?", asked Thatch with an exasperated sigh.

"I don't know what you're talking about.", you replied at the same time as Ace said: "Absolutely!", from where he sat wrapped around you with his chin propped up on your head.

The crew members nearby laughed and toasted to "young love" and that it may annoy the cook to the end of times.

Later that night Ace and you retreated to a quieter place on deck away from the party. You watched the stars overneath and after a while you said: "They're all long burned out and dead."

Ace spluttered and choked on his drink. You had to pat his back to help him.

"What?"

"The stars. A lot of them are long dead before we can see their light.", you elaborated.

"Oh" Now he looked up as well as if considering them from a new perspective.

"Doesn't stop them from looking beautiful though." You smiled and leaned into him.

"No, it doesn't."

It was quiet for a moment, apart from the party on other parts of the ship, but it was not like the uncomfortable silences in the past. Just a pause, nothing to worry about. There is no longer a rush to get the right words out in time in fear of them dissolving on your tongue otherwise.

You took a sip of your drink while Ace laced your fingers together.

"Disgustingly in love", he repeated the words from before and smiled. You couldn't help but grin yourself.

"Maybe so", you said and playfully swung your joined hands back and forth.

"I love you.", he said and you never really get used to such declarations. Ace turned around so you are facing each other and cupped your cheek in his unoccupied hand. "Disgustingly much!"

If a smile could stop a war, this one had just achieved world peace.

"I love you, too." You dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose and then some more on the freckles on his cheeks, for good measure. "An obnoxious amount!"

Ace leaned in for a proper kiss and for the next few moments the world began and ended right here: You two, with your hands entwined, kissing under the light of dead stars.

A week later Thatch found a devil fruit.

+ I I' m ready to suffer, I'm ready to hope

A year passed. Vengeance proved unsuccessful.

For a long time now you had felt unhinged, off balance without any clear goal in sight. What was there left to do when you have lost so much?

It felt wrong, looking at the night sky and finding it no different to all the times you used to look at it together. The world was cruel like that, it didn't care about your loss.

The world doesn't care, people do. That is one of the most valuable lessons becoming part of Whitebeard's crew had taught you.

Now the uncaring stars slowly faded to make way for the dawning sun.

You laid down a bouquet of flowers on your father's grave. "I have to go my own way again.", you told him. You had already said your goodbyes to the remainders of the crew. This was your last stop before the rest of the world. After spending so much time mourning and fighting, it was time for you to move on, to live for yourself again. You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

"Thank you for everything, pops!", you almost choked on your words and had to take a moment to gather yourself. It may get easier with time but it will never just be easy.

You turned to the second grave and had to smile at the sight of a certain hat. "Don't worry, I'll be safe.", you reassured him. Your eyes wandered up into the sky. No more stars to admire. "I wonder if they look the same wherever you are now."

Taking a step backwards you looked at both graves for a last time. "I miss you and I won't ever forget you.", with that you bowed shortly and then turned around to go.

A gust of wind ruffled your hair and for a second the air carried a faint smell like- "Bonfire." You took a deep breath and continued walking down the hill. Your steps becoming faster and faster until you were running and you haven't felt this weightless in such a long time, you thought you might just lift off the ground completely and fly.

(You passed a young man in a tophat on your way down.)

[nerdsideofthemedia]

Bumblebee was always the plan part 2

It’s time to continue with my controversial posts. When I began writing this, it was intended to be mostly a response to arguments I see around and EF’s. Then my pretty confrontational post that had led to say to a friend “Thankfully no one reads my blog” became much bigger than I ever expected. There’s a good chance I would have gone for a different tone had I known it would get 500x the usual view of… 1, which is usually mine. This been said, it would have been a mistake. Still, I feel like I have to address some points that seem to have confused a few people and this is definitely to do that.

But first, soothing music to prevent knee-jerk reactions.

Let’s start with a claim that was kind of controversial: the suggestion that Blake could still turn out to be a lesbian instead of bi or pan as some claimed this was in itself bi erasure. I understand where this complaint comes from as bisexuality was basically considered to not exist in media, for example, Sex and the City has an episode where all the main characters but Samantha treat it as something alienating and a way to still be in the closet. Yeah, some episodes have not aged well. And I’ve lost count of the number of people that still don’t consider it a thing, even among progressive fandom like Janelle Monae’s and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s (I just gave you 2 bi anthems1). Just so we’re clear, even though I do think Blake is bothsexual (let’s see if someone recognizes that reference), I have to put on table of her being a lesbian as some gay people have dated members of the opposite sex for a very long time, and there’s high probability some of them were abused in said relationships. I can’t ignore those experiences (I suppose I can, but I shouldn’t and hopefully never will).

Black Sun: the ship that didn’t sail

Again, there were a few that didn’t like that I compared BB and BS, which they interpreted as a dick contest. That really wasn’t my goal. I did that because those were the ships involving Blake that had a chance to happen (Catmeleon and Enabling-abuse2 were not on the table) and I was arguing for Bumblebee having been the plan all along (which, to me, implies that Black Sun was meant to be a red herring, though I didn’t flat out say it – sorry, I didn’t think I needed to). The point was to illustrate how there had been hints for Bumblebee.

I argued for that way before volume 6 by pointing out several clues like the dance arc, the songs and the injury. At the time, someone asked me how I could know BB wasn’t the red herring. There are 2 reasons why:

While it’s not lacking in hints and foreshadowing, they are (mostly3) on the subtle side when compared to the very obvious Sun’s crush on Blake;

They’re a LGBTQ+ pairing. There are huge double standards when it comes to LGBTQ+ in comparison to hetero ones – many people will deny the first one until it’s impossible to do so. The point of the bait and switch is to have a little twist and you can’t have that if a significant part of your audience notices the switch, but doesn’t see the bait.

And if you have doubts about the last point, remember: in 6x11, Adam attacked Yang out of jealousy, then Blake held her hand while making a speech that put them as equal in contrast to Blake-Adam, a relationship where one of them constantly tried to make the other feel small (the point of the infamous speech). There were many denying BB. Then, he tried to make Yang feel insecure about Blake by telling her she had made the same promise to him and asked the super platonic question: “What does she even see in you?” and people still tried to deny it. In the last episode, Blake and Yang spent the time holding each other’s hands and yet, there were still people denying it. Not that I’m complaining, since it only increased my celebration time. It was like: episode 6x11, “yeah! Bees” for 3 days, the internet crashed my party for one, then 6x12, “yeah! Bees! This time is for sure” for another 3 days, again I had my enthusiasm dashed and finally, “yeah! Bees”. That time it stuck. So thanks guys! It would have been bad if by 6x13 I had already used all my fireworks.

If you thought BS was going to happen – that’s normal, because it was the bait. If I am aware that people tend to think of others as straight until proven otherwise, why do you think the writers aren’t? I may not live in the same country as them, but I still consume a lot of USA’s media and I know that if guy stalks girl, he usually gets her. Not to mention, the number of times media announces a LGBTQ+ character as tactic to gain some support yet deliver nothing, like saying Dumbledore is gay even though there’s nothing in the films or books indicating it (let’s leave the conversation about the “word of God” for some other time). There were more than a few LGBTQ+ people who were afraid Bumblebee would turn out to be just that: queerbaiting.

Miles and Kerry knew all of that and, more importantly, they were aware that you knew it too, so they played on your assumptions to make their bait-and-switch. However, there were plenty of hints that Sun was just the red herring and that Bumblebee was going to happen. Last time, I focused on the latter, this time let’s concentrate on the first. Let’s take a look at Sun and Blake’s relationship, shall we?

Sun was introduced in the last episodes of V1 and Blake trusted him immediately, because… he’s a Faunus. Though she told him about herself and the White Fang, he showed immediately he’s not on the same page as her as Faunus rights mean a lot to her and little to nothing to him. In 2x01, Sun talks to Neptune about Blake and concluded “and the best part is she’s a Faunus”, which goes completely against Blake’s words in the next episode “I want people to see me for who I am, not what I am”. She began going on a downward spiral to which he reacts with “Is she being all Blake-y?”, while Yang’s the one who gets through to her by exposing her own vulnerability.

Sun not fully understanding Blake is something the show hammers in our heads quite a few times even in more recent volumes. Like when he assumed she’s on her way to fight the White Fang when she was actually going to Menagerie to rest. Or suggested destroying the WF while Blake wanted to take it back.

In volume 3, they had literally no interactions besides him winking at her in the Vytal Festival – yes, she blushed, which can be explained by the fact that he did it in front of an entire stadium or that she had a crush on him. Personally, I’m inclined to the latter, but it really doesn’t mean much: not all crushes lead to something. A lot of them are a result of idealization and I think that was the case for Blake. By the way, I have to speak of Blake’s crush as likely, not certain precisely because it was never actually confirmed.

When Yang asked Weiss where Blake and Ruby were, Sun was there, yet it was Yang alone who went after Blake. The next time we saw him, it’s after their injuries and he is noticing an injured Blake grabbing Yang’s hand.

No, this shot doesn’t exist to show Sun seeing Blake injured, because he already knew that. He had just told Ruby that Yang was going to be OK, and the one who brought her there was Blake. Not to mention that if the point was to make him notice Blake’s injuries, it makes no sense for their hands to appear. Yang would have been kept out of the frame, instead of taking up more space than Blake. To me, this is the moment where Sun realizes Blake’s feelings for Yang. If the intention was for him to notice Blake’s injured, it would have made much more sense to see his face, then cut to her. Yes, they could have done the same with their hands, but this way they left it more ambiguous which was probably the intention. It would have made no sense for them to choose that if it was meant for Black Sun, because the audience was more than aware he was interested in Blake. We had been since V1 as there was never anything subtle about their relationship.

In volume 4, he flirts, Blake is usually either apathetic or downright annoyed. The exception is after the injury, and like I said, he’s the one who brings up Yang, revealing he realizes the bond between them. He is also hurt by the chick whose feelings weren’t reciprocated (I talked about that at length in part 1). In volume 5, their relationship is platonic.

Really, in spite of spending the volumes 4 and 5 together, it’s not about developing Black Sun in a romantic way.

Oh, a kiss on the cheek isn't romantic. It can be, but in the context, it was merely a "thank you".

Black Sun hasn’t sunk yet

While RWBY isn’t over, the possibility for Black Sun isn’t completely gone, though I don’t think I’m lying when I say it’s unlikely. You can like it more than Bumblebee, but it’s all right to admit it’s improbable. We (almost) all have been there. For crying out loud, in MHA, I sort of ship Kacchako4 (loses 2/3 of her readers – and that’s why this piece of trivia was originally intended to appear much later).

After everything he’s done for her (that she didn’t ask for)

This is usually phrased in a disgusting way.

There is a lot to unpack here.

First, it’s ridiculous to think you can be owed love/getting into someone’s panties. You can’t. People either love you/want to do you, or they don’t. If you want to do something for someone else, great, but do it because you want to and like (not necessarily in a romantic way) said person or because you’re altruistic – don’t expect a reward. This is what you sound like to us:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWFfrQtHag0

You wanted the guy to get the girl, fine. You know you can watch that in almost everything else, right?

Second, it’s idiotic to associate getting the girl with masculinity or not getting her with being “cucked”. If your notion of being a man is tied to getting someone else, that’s on you. If you need someone else to feel good about yourself, maybe you have some underlying issues to address (another reference to Crazy Ex-Girlfriend – watch the show, especially if you’re making comments like the one I showed: you need it. I feel like the narrator in “S.O.B.s”).

Third, even by the logic of “after everything I’ve done for you”, Sun doesn’t win, because Yang paid a much bigger price: she lost an arm and had PTSD while he had a minor injury from which he had basically recovered by the next episode. This isn’t a “Yang deserves her” either – that argument is nonsensical no matter the pairing being defended, I’m just pointing out that it doesn’t even favor BS.

By the way, I noticed that a few people completely missed the point of why I compared Yang’s injury to Sun’s and think I did it to indicate Yang deserves it more or to win (?). It’s a bit confusing because I flat out say why I made the comparison, but here it goes again: it’s not to say Yang deserves Blake, but to indicate that, in fiction, we usually associate romance with higher stakes. I literally wrote:

“I think Yang’s and Sun’s injuries are everything I should need to prove the likelihood of BB as they contrast the two main Blake ships: Bumblebee and Black Sun. While heroes tend to save many people who are indeed just friends or sometimes not even that, there’s a reason why Superman and Spiderman usually include Lois Lane and MJ (or whoever the love interest is in said film) in the climax – it makes it more personal, raising the stakes. From this perspective, it’s easy to understand the importance given to either by comparing: what the injury was, who caused it, why and Blake’s reaction, thus allowing to conclude which couple was given more weight.”

“[…] point Bumblebee as the first one is more associated with romance.”

That was me explaining what the points were as well as why I was comparing the 2.

And yes, paying attention to dramatic weight is completely valid, we are talking about fiction after all. It’s not like we accidentally walked in on a guy threatening a gal and saying “I’ll destroy everything you love… starting with her” as another woman appeared in real life. Things happened the way they did because writers (editors, directors, etc.) wanted them to. 

Don’t pretend you didn’t know that it’s relevant that the one who caused Yang’s injury was Adam, Blake’s ex-boyfriend, while Sun’s was caused by Ilia, the friend whose feelings weren’t reciprocated, and that it doesn’t say anything about the links Adam-Yang and Sun-Ilia. I lost count of the number of BSers who wanted Sun to fight Adam and wanted him to be the one taking Adam down (even though it got in the way of Yang’s closure), which shows many of you were perfectly aware of the importance of said connection.

As for the dyke representation… (the fact that they phrased it that way is very telling) if it was just that, then any lesbian couple would do. RWBY is about 4 female characters. Seriously, how come people never ask themselves why this one is so popular, even though Yang and Blake aren't the most popular characters? From what I've seen, Weiss and Yang are.

The claims of “pandering” and “SJW” have been raining for a while and I expect them to continue until they realize CRWBY can’t be bullied into erasing BB. Count on that to happen whenever a show reveals a main character is LGBTQ+ mid-series (unless it’s a particularly progressive show). If your reaction to seeing LGBTQ+ characters is to call it “pandering”, it says a lot about you, none of it good.

I know that we perceive straight white male as default. This is so entrenched in our culture that the first Transformers didn’t have any female transformers because the writers thought it would require an explanation. Yup, apparently you need an explanation to include half of the world’s population.

I suppose screaming “pandering” is better than to pull an EF and say “Bumblebee was and is the safest LGBTQ ship they could have done. Lesbian couples are the safest representation a show can make […] It’s more comfortable to see woman on woman action just because of how fantasized they are”, which:

doesn’t justify why BB is the safest LGBTQ+ couple as there are a ton of lesbian couples possible (White Rose, Checkmate/Monochrome, Freezerburn, etc.);

fails to consider the high number of LGBTQ+ women in RWBY when compared to LGBTQ+ men probably has something to do with the fact it has more female characters;

when did we see woman on woman action in RWBY? How did I miss that episode?

if lesbians are so appealing to straight men, how come they’re the ones whining the most about BB?

The whole straight-men-like-lesbians while being the ones complaining about them is particularly odd to me. It doesn’t sound like they like they are spending their time wrapped up in sexual fantasies. Maybe they are and can't stop. And that's why they don't like Bumblebee anymore... Poor things... But really, it just sounds like they need some kind of… safe space.

You can tell them not to worry. They still have most shows/books/films. And for the next 2-4 decades, they'll be able to count on Disney (taking shots at it since my very first post).

As usual, the original.

More RWBY posts:

Filmmaking and Bumbleby

Bumblebee was Always the Plan

Bumblebee was Always the Plan part 2

Faunus and the White Fang: The Portrayal of Racism

BB & Renora

Weird Post on Weiss’s Clothes

Foils: Adam and Yang (this one is in wordpress; it was my first one and I didn’t have Tumblr then)

Let’s talk about Adam Taurus (I didn’t post this one on Tumblr because the title and tags could lead Adam fans thinking this was about “his wasted potential” when really it defends the decision of killing him off and explains why it happened)

1 “Make me Feel” can also be taken as a pan anthem as Janelle as identifies as such (and I think she’s OK with being called bi too).

2 Enabling Abuse is what I call AdamxBlake.

3 I still consider “Burning the Candle”, V3 finale and the ship named “Pride” to be pretty obvious.

4 Not only are the odds against Kacchako (BakugoxUraraka), the shippers are considered villains who worship chaos, which is fine by me. I can’t say some part of me doesn’t enjoy being The Dark Knight’s Joker and that part is saying: “Tell me Batman, how does it feel to be the hero of a film that everyone watches for its villains?”

[wannawrite]

Best Of Both Worlds

who?: Wanna One’s Park Woojin

genre: 🌸

type: scenario

word count: 4.3K

TW: coarse language

blog navigator. 

who said love and evil don’t mix? 

love-hate! AU

I have so much to say about this AU

⁃ admin l 

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners everything that is written here is purely fictional DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING

~

“Excuse me? What the hell did you just say? I dare you to repeat that shit again!” Your steely glare bore into the sarcastic hazel orbs of Park Woojin’s.

Aka the most annoying person, you had ever encountered.

Woojin sighed and casually repeated his sentence. “I really like your, yes, your best friend, Clara and yes, you should help us get together.”

The words took your brain too much time to process, too much time functioning around Park Woojin.

“Wow,” you drawled. “I lost brain cells trying to comprehend your words so bye, time for me to leave.”

The most, you managed to amble two steps away from him before e caught your elbow.

“Let me go you idiot! Or I’m going to yell to this whole neighbourhood that you bullied me!” You threatened, beyond angered.

Reluctantly, Woojin released his grip on your arm.

“Why should I even help you? Clara has a heart of a puppy! She can’t even harm a damn fly! Why her?” you groaned, picturing a harmful image of Park Woojin and Clara together.

He was the embodiment of the devil while she was the angel who was in charge of the choir in heaven. As a couple, it would be awful.

Disgusting.

Woojin beamed happily. “Because you love your best friend and you want her to be happy,” he explained like he was stating the obvious.

Giving him a once over - just in case he changed in 0.5 seconds, you decided that he was definitely not cut out to be boyfriend material, let alone Clara’s sort of boyfriend material.

You snorted. “She’ll be miserable with you! What kind of guy pours his milk into a bowl before the cereal. Uncultured! Strike one!”

Woojin frowned, teeth gritted. “That was one! time when we were 8 years old!”

Then, as if a light bulb flickered on inside his rather dull head, he smirked. “Don’t you remember when we were 8? And you had this massive crush on Lee Daehwi?”

A hot red seared your cheeks at the mention of that day. The day Park Woojin embarrassed you in front of all your neighbours at the monthly barbecue. Back then, he was the only one who knew you had a crush on Daehwi.

How? Woojin stole your diary in kindergarten, deciphered your illegible handwriting during nap time and discovered your secret crush.

What a gentleman.

“You better shut your mouth before I rip out your vocal cords, sew them back then slowly snip the seams one by one!” You growled threateningly. At least, you hoped to seem more collected than you actually were.

The imagery is really starting to take its toll on me.

“Do you always have to be so graphic?” Woojin rolled his eyes. “All I’m asking is for you to put in a good word for me. What have I done to you?”

Done to me?

A perfectly cut nail jabbed its way into Woojin’s chest accusingly. “You? What have you done to me?”

“I mean, you invaded my privacy when we were kids. Told the whole neighbourhood and the Lee family that I had a crush on their son! Then everyone spent two years thinking I was a slut because you claimed I kissed two people in an hour!”

Woojin took one look at your finger on his chest and flicked it away. “Talk about harassment now.”

You wanted to scream in his face and perhaps tie him upside down to a tree.

Woojin was such a jerk! Helpful next-door neighbour my ass!

You stormed ahead of him, eager to arrive home. Just breathing the same air made your head spin. Slamming the door in his face seemed perfect.

“That was when we were kids! I’ve apologised!” He yelled from behind you before stretching his long legs and catching up with you.

“Sure.”

A sigh left Woojin’s lips as he dramatically pinched the bridge of his nose in mock despair. “Fine. I have a proposition anyway.”

“I’m not interested,” you shot back, boredom filling your tone.

“It involves Lee Daehwi,” he hummed casually.

Those three words. Someone’s name. Those were enough to make you freeze, and cause your heart to pound.

You cleared your throat and tried to appear nonchalant in front of Woojin, hoping he would not notice.

“Okay,” you groaned reluctantly. “I’m listening now.”

If only your complete infatuation allowed you to tune out to whatever Woojin would propose.

Hell, who would make a deal with the devil?

“How fickle of you. I’m wondering if Daehwi even deserves someone like you,” Woojin commented, a teasing smirk on his lips.

Annoyed, you kicked an innocent stray pebble on the sidewalk, wishing it was Woojin’s face.

“Get on with the deal or I’m backing out.”

The boy put his hands up in mock surrender, faking shock. “Woah, okay.”

Surprisingly, he obeyed.

“I’ll set you up with Daehwi, if you help me get into Clara’s good books.”

“You make it sound like-“

“You don’t even have to help me until your ship is sailing,” he cut in hurriedly. “Who else would you go to? I’m Daehwi’s best friend and your next door neighbour, so perfect !”

It sounded like the most perfect proposal in the world. But Woojin wasn’t from this world. Far from it. Down under.

However, because of my stupid adoration for Lee Daehwi, I’m going to give Woojin a chance.

And Clara sleep paralysis.

But how bad could it be? It’ll be a win-win situation at the end.

Hopefully.

Clara’s a strong woman, she can handle herself. Like this, I can also regulate Woojin’s behaviour around her, maybe even sabotage it.

Thoughts like those filled your mind as you weighed out the pros and cons.

You chuckled quietly to yourself and offered Woojin an outstretched hand.

“I believe you’ve got yourself a deal.”

~

It was way past visiting hours at your house, after dinner and the time when the whole family was doing their own thing.

For example, you were holed up in your room, watching the latest drama on your laptop and grinning like an idiot.

That was when your father knocked on your door and announced that someone was here to see you.

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, you padded out to the living room to meet your uninvited guest.

“You!”

Your jaw fell open in disbelief and shock, a finger instinctively pointed accusingly at the person sitting on your sofa.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, clearly frustrated, mildly annoyed Woojin had to see you in your lazing around outfit.

“Well, hello to you too. I feel so welcome here,” Woojin replied sarcastically.

While you were in your comfiest t-shirt and shorts, Woojin was clearly dressed up for a night out. That fact alone made you worried.

Plopping yourself into space next to him, you asked once more, “What are you doing here?”.

Woojin grinned like the Cheshire cat, wide and proud. “Someone I know is throwing a party tonight and...Daehwi will be there. Facts only.”

“And if you’re lying?”

In all honesty, you wouldn’t put it past him for lying.

He scoffed. “Why would I be? Our pact starts today. The faster I get you and Daehwi together, the faster I can get Clara.”

Woojin stretched out a hand, eyes almost challenging you to grab it. “So, party or no?”

Taking his hand, you shook it. “Give me a while, I need to change and tell my parents. Drinks or whatever are in the fridge.”

Daehwi. Daehwi. Daehwi. He’ll be there.

~

“Impossible,” you muttered under your breath, scanning the crowd frantically for any sign of Woojin or Daehwi.

Half an hour after losing Woojin, he was still nowhere to be found. Sure, he had instructed you to wait in the kitchen while he fetched Daehwi but he was taking way too long.

Plus, the kitchen began filling up with hungry drunkards and you figured it was time to scram.

Even though this party could be considered ‘small’, you weren’t exactly familiar with any of the faces. 

Who even threw this party? Their snack selection sucked.

“Y/N!”

Finally!

Pushing through the crowd, you reached the other side of the house, from where Woojin was calling.

“Damnit! Don’t you know how to pick up a phone?” He flashed his phone screen in your face, the device was calling yours.

“Sorry. But you, you took way too much time to fetch him,” you fired back. “And, I called you twice as well!”

Luckily, Daehwi noticed your presence and decided to break the ice.

“Hey y/n, good to see you. Woojin never mentioned you would be here tonight,” he said with a smile.

“Hi!” You glared in Woojin’s direction to ask for help. “Uh, I love giving surprises so, here I am!”

You swore he facepalmed.

“Uh, I love parties and all!” You added much to Woojin’s horror.

To your relief, Daehwi only chuckled in amusement.

“Oh my god! Guys, it’s MY song! This is MY jam and...it’s time to dance! Come along,” Woojin shouted, dragging you and Daehwi to dance without waiting for replies.

“Oh, I didn’t know you listened to Taylor Swift,” Daehwi murmured. Woojin paid no mind to his accurate comment.

Woojin didn’t. As his next-door neighbour, all you had heard for the past few nights were pop and rap songs with the occasional ballad thrown in.

“Guess he’s trying out something new,” you added, trying to seem casual and composed.

In reality, your heart was going to leap out of your chest.

Quite a graphic scene.

Suddenly, Woojin announced that he needed a drink, or saw someone he knew, whichever excuse came first. He left you and Daehwi in the centre of the dance floor with a wink.

Shit! That prick knows I can’t dance!

Act composed. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

“I love this song,” you said, attempting to groove but ended up stepping on someone’s toes.

“Um, looks like you and Woojin have similar tastes, haha! Y’all must spend a lot of time together,” Daehwi responded, somewhat unsure of how to react.

Crap!

“Oh, nah.” You quickly tried to brush off the assumption. “We’re just neighbours. You know that. You’re my neighbour too. Wait, why am I telling you this. You already know this. I-“

Ahh, the rambling.

Inhaling deeply, you calmed down and gathered your words properly.

“Sorry for my rambling. I think the party has me a little woozy,” you explained sheepishly.

People began to jostled you around, so you ended up finding your spot on the sidelines. Daehwi trailed after you.

He shook his head in, disagreeing. “Don’t be.”

Then, his thick brows furrowed with concern, eyes searching for any signs of distress. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call Woojin? You should be heading home if you’re feeling unwell.”

This is why he’s so perfect. He is THE sweetest man on this planet and no one can change my opinion.

“No!” The yell was a little too loud, causing a couple of odd looks to be thrown your way. You hastily made up a believable excuse, trying to smile flirtatiously, “Uh, I just got here. Besides, we just met!”

“I’ll be taking that away from you.”

In one swift motion, Woojin had swooped your cup of ‘whatever it was from the kitchen bar’ and throwing it into the trash.

You blinked twice at him, almost unable to believe what had just happened. “Woojin! Wha-“

Daehwi looked relieved to find Woojin. “Thank god you’re here! Uh, I...oh! Youngmin hyung!”

He looked to you, then to Woojin and back to you. “If you don’t mind...”

Woojin nodded in ‘Youngmin’s’ direction, grabbing a hold of your elbow. “Go ahead.”

Your mutter was incomprehensible.

“I guess, I’ll see you guys around! Nice meeting you here! Drive safely!” Daehwi bid the two of you goodbye with a wave. He disappeared pretty quickly into the crowd.

“Do you want to stay?” Woojin gestured to the most happening place of the party. Sighing, you rubbed your temples and shook your head, kicking the trash bin on the way out.

When you were seated in Woojin’s car and definitely out of earshot, did you begin to spill the short encounter to your friend.

“He asked me if I was okay!”

“He does that all the time.” Was his muted reply. “...But good job, I saw you guys talking.”

Woojin took a left down the lane.

A scoff left your lips. “Of course, until you interrupted us and threw my drink in the trash.”

He remained nonchalant with his answer. “Okay. Whatever that was had reached your brain and you were acting like a malfunctioning Ken doll. I saved your ass from embarrassing yourself in front of Daehwi.”

Reclining into the plush leather seat, you nodded playfully. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

With another turn, Woojin cleared his throat. “So, about our deal...”

“Yeah, yeah, Clara and all.”

Honestly, no bones in your body were excited to introduce Woojin to Clara. Even though she had witnessed your ‘banter’ with him, she never knew who he was. Plus, she was the nicest type of friend who thought of everyone in the best possible light.

Most people.

Woojin? Definitely.

Settling on her contact, your finger hovered directly above the illuminated blue button.

Text or call?

“How about next Saturday, a double date, bbq place next to the library?” You suggested.

“Double date?” Woojin questioned, brow quirked.

“Yeah, you, me, Daehwi, Clara. She loves barbecue by the way. I’ll say you suggested the idea,” you said, throwing in ideas as they came.

A smile broke out on Woojin’s face, so wide it made your heart flutter. You reached over and pinched one of his cheeks.

“You’re blushing,” you sang with delight.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Woojin admitted without hesitation. “Barbecue?”

“Text sent!” You confirmed happily, nearly tossing your phone to the back seat.

“Let’s get it.”

~

You: hey Clara, caught a fever, not coming to school so help me tell everyone, okay?

Clara: omg :((( i hope you get better soon and I’ll drop by later. Get some rest now💖

Right after you received her reply, you sent a heart back and threw your phone across your room.

The fever had really gotten you all worked up. It was incredibly annoying that your immune system picked and chose the times to malfunction.

Such as a fever two days before you were scheduled for a double date!

Wonderful.

The thought of cancelling the date mad you blush hotly with anger and frustration. Maybe you cried once or twice thinking about how the ‘breaking the news’ scenario would play out.

All you could do was to wait for the fever to subside then sweet talk your way into your parent’s approval. They would feel uneasy.

You hissed, retracting a hand away from your forehead that burned like hot coals.

Well, nothing could materialise unless the fever broke.

Sulkily, you slipped under the blankets again and hoped for rest to come.

Somehow, you wondered if Woojin had noticed your absence from school, or whether he noticed you hadn’t left your house that morning.

The fever must have severe impacts on your prefrontal cortex. Who would think of him? Why do I want him to notice? Do I want him to care?

At least, you managed to quietly slip into a serene dream.

~

“Rise and shine, brat .” A voice rang, echoing off the walls of your brain.

“Get up! You need to wake up! Your forehead’s burning, you have to take your pills!”

Mum? But,,,mum doesn’t swear and she’s meant to be at work. Clara? Clara never swears! Besides, she has tuition today. Neither of them have deep voices...Dad is at work too...

Woojin?

Wait, it could be Daehwi?

Trying to guess the person from voice alone was a seemingly easy task for a person whose brain wasn’t being eaten up by a fire.

Strange, it placed Woojin on the list too.

“What,” you whispered, unamused.

Claps sounded through the atmosphere, and a sarcastic voice followed suit. “Fantastic! Sleeping beauty has awoken! Though, I must say you look much more like the beast when asleep.”

At that comment, your eyes flew open and you leapt up to confront the intruder.

“Park Woojin! What are you doing here?”

Isn’t this the second time in two weeks that he has adventured into my house? First my living room and now my bedroom?

“Woojin! Now, I have to disinfect my whole house because of your germs!”

With a gentle push on your shoulder, you fell back onto your bed. “Relax,” Woojin said. “I come in peace.”

He gestured to his mysterious metal tureen, a teddy bear and a balloon. “The notes are from your friends. Clara got you the balloon and, I bought you the bear.”

Weirdly enough, you felt paper wings of tiny butterflies flap in your stomach and heart begin to thud.

“Oh,” you muttered wordlessly, accepting his teddy bear.

Woojin then proceeded to offer you the container of chicken broth stew, saying how he spent hours broiling it. He also managed to brag about his excellent chef skills.

After which, he presented a folder of all the work you had missed, with a sticky note of instructions. It was neatly organised and even had colourful sticky tabs.

“Clara collected the work and asked me to deliver it,” he clarified.

Clara’s handwriting was a whole lot neater and more cursive than his boxy letters.

Still, you played along, not wanting to put him in a spot.

“Why are you doing all this for me? You really didn’t have to.”

A part of you was reluctant to hear the truth because Park Woojin came up with the most ridiculous reasons ever. But the other half wanted to know if this meant something, at least platonically.

For a minute, Woojin distracted himself by looking anywhere but in your direction.

“You idiot,” he finally snickered. “I still need my favourite wingman for Saturday. Can’t have you bailing on me.”

You sort of knew he was joking and truthfully, it made a whole lot of sense. Yet, why did it somehow hurt?

Sensing the shift in your mood, Woojin grew anxious. He gave your shoulder a pat. “Hey, all that aside. I came here as your next door neighbour and your friend. You can call me anytime.”

Reassuring.

His words were so reassuring.

Friends.

We were friends now.

Maybe you were sick and ignoring his usual stupid, goofy side and tapping into the soppy, emotional perspective but you appreciated this unseen side of your new friend.

“Thank you for caring,” you expressed with gratitude.

He gave a charming boyish nod before enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.

Woojin looks like the kind of guy to give good hugs

~

A glance at the clock told you that you were five minutes late to the barbecue place.

The main reason: the cool, calm, playful Park Woojin was having a total breakdown in his bedroom

First, it was about the colour of his shirt. Then, how he did his hair and how many earrings he should wear.

The past hour or so was spent on you trying to encourage and reassure him.

“Cheer up! You always look amazing in everything and you’ll look even better when you show off your cooking skills! I know you can make a mean fried rice!”

“But, what if-“

“No buts! You can do this! You’re Park Woojin! And, you have me! The best wingman in the world!”

Your energetic pep talk seemed to have calmed his nerves for the time being.

Meanwhile, you received text updates of food Daehwi and Clara had ordered.

It seemed like the two of them hit it off well in the short time they had been sitting at the same table. Their casual banter got on your nerves more than it should have.

Yet, your mind was more preoccupied thinking about Woojin.

He had barely uttered a word to Clara.

Deciding that enough was enough, you kicked him in the shin under the table.

“Ouch!” He exclaimed. “What the hell?”

“That’s...not...how you grill meat, Woojin! Let me teach you how. I think food is an essential part of a conversation starter, don’t ruin it,” you warned through gritted teeth.

“Hey! It's not like you do any better in cooking,” Woojin shot back, clearly not getting the message.

Clara smiled sweetly and awed. “These two argue like a married couple! How cute!”

You picked up the scissors and gave a little ‘snip-snip’. “I’ll chop off my ring finger before he ever proposes!”

Clara motioned for you to calm down before whining about your dramatic ways.

“I think they’re funny,” Woojin suddenly defended. “I-I mean...it’s fun to challenge someone.”

Daehwi and Clara exchanged not-so-subtle looks.

Oh no.

They think that this ‘double date’ is for them to wingman us! Plus, they do look like they enjoy each other’s company.

Woojin would be so crushed! I need to warn him.

“Woojin,” you coughed. “I think I left my...wallet in the car. Could you come with me to get it?”

Wordlessly and with shaky hands, he passed you the car keys. You swore you saw him suck in a deep breath when your fingers brushed.

You felt sparks too, you were just better at concealing them, for the sake of Clara and Daehwi.

Woojin couldn’t stay here alone. What if they get the wrong idea and interrogate him until he is forced to reveal our pact? That’ll end his chances with Clara forever!

This pact was so stupid!

But it did give me some of the best moments of my life. Woojin bringing soup over, going to parties together...

“Uh, I forgot where we parked the car.”

Groaning, Woojin got up from his seat, back to his usual self. “Seriously? I suppose it comes with age. Your skin looks a lot more wrinkly than before.”

Yes, he was back to his usual self.

“You’re insufferable! I can’t believe it,” you grumbled, quickly steering both of you out of the shop.

Out of sight, you filled him in on how the current, dire situation. But that didn’t faze him one bit.

“Hello? Woojin! You have to talk to Clara okay? Giving her a yoghurt smoothie every day isn’t going to suffice!”

You continued to talk once the car came into sight.

“Besides, you were so nervous about meeting her! Chill, calm down. Now’s the perfect time to use all your charm on her!”

“I like you.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, jaw dropping open as you locked eyes with Woojin. Surely, he’s kidding.

Right?

It has to be his confession for Clara. That’s what he’s so nervous about! He just needed to rehearse with me.

A half-hearted laugh let your lips. “Woojin, don’t play with my feelings.  At least give me a warning before you practice your confession on me.”

He glanced away then looked straight into your eyes.

“Hey, Clara,” he began confidently.

You offered a thumbs up for encouragement.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re an amazing person but, it isn’t working out between us-“

A frowned etched into your face and you reminded that it was love confession, not a breakup scene.

“I like your friend, y/n. So, please help me tell them to stop being so dense!”

I. Like. You.

What the hell.

“You don’t have to tell me anything now, or ever. I just wanted you to know,” he said. “Come on, let’s go back before they finish lunch.”

“Why do you like me?” you blurted out. “I mean, we hated each other from day one, remember?”

He shrugged, his cute shrug. “You are a lot different from the version that I ‘hated’. I think getting to know and understand you made me realise how much I enjoyed being together.”

“As for Clara, I was infatuated, we talked about it on one of our many yogurt smoothie encounters. She...likes someone else anyway, but I’m not hurt or anything.”

Even though your face burned and your head hung low, every single bone in your body was bursting with joy.

“I don’t know what to say,” you finally admitted.

Truthfully, your whole Daehwi crush had died down the more time you spent with Woojin. Daehwi was a good friend and Woojin? Well, you had to work that out.

“Can I get back to you on it? We live next door, we can talk any time,” you suggested shyly.

Woojin burst out laughing. “Woah. You gon’ break my heart just like that? Bold. I like it.”

Ahhh, my favourite side of Park Woojin is back.

Snickering, you fought back. “Can’t wait till I set your hair on fire and you’ll feel what it’s like to be...roasted.”

“Oops, forgot you feel that all the time whenever I’m around.”

Woojin rolled his eyes and smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Funny, but you’re the one always getting clowned. Remember that time I threw slime into your hair, you never realised and your crush had to point it out to you? History can repeat itself today.”

Damn, now I’m going to lie awake tonight thinking about that incident.

“You better take that back before give you all the burnt meat today!” you declared. “God, I can’t stand you!”

Chortling, Woojin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Watch out for cars. Your blind ass is going to get run over one day.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, leaving a shiver running down your spine.

“You know you love me.”

Two fingers gently pinched his cheek in response.

“Please. I love barbecued meat more than you. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

But secretly, once he was looking away, you grinned, stretching from ear to ear and your heart never felt warmer.

[franeridart]

Hi! Idk if you read fanfic, but would you happen to have any kiribaku fic recs? Or any bnha fic rec?

I’m pretty sure there’s stuff tagged as fic recs on this blog, yes! Nothing particularly new tho, I haven’t had the time to put down a new rec-list in a while ;-;

Anon said:How long does it take you to finish a drawing with and without color?

That honestly depends on a lot of factors - which tools I’m using, how many characters there are in the drawing/if it’s full body or not, how used to drawing the character I am, how big is the canvas, if I already have a clear idea of what I mean to draw or not, how precise I want to be with lines and stuff. 

That Yuuto sketch I posted yesterday took me about 40 minutes I think, and over half of it was spent trying to figure out how I was supposed to draw him since it was the first time I drew him - the tools I used are the ones I use when I want to be fast and don’t care about being sloppy. A small random Kirishima bust properly lined and colored could take me five minutes to sketch and line and as many to color on a good day, cause I’ve drawn him so many times by now I don’t even have to think to draw him. Deku, on the other hand, can take me an hour even just to sketch, I can’t seem to grasp how I’m supposed to draw him at all.

Sorry, it really depends on a lot of things, I can’t give a proper answer to this :(

Anon said:Ive been tryin to find ur art of sero carrying baku for like 20 minutes n i cant find it :(

Are you talking about this one? Or this one? There’s also this one I guess...? And maybe this one lol 

Anon said:yoooo, hey man, that cat kiribaku thing ya got going on is some 👌👌👌👌👌

HECK THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Has anyone ever considered Hadmie. Hadou x Camie before?? It just seems like it'd be a cute ship to sail with, tbh. That just might be me tho.

I dunno if anyone has before you, but I can’t say I have, sorry! If I gotta ship Nejire with someone after all it’s gonna be Yuyu haha

Anon said:Hey do you do commissions? I really love your art and I'd love to get a commission from you!! (and also I just wanna know if there's yet another thing that I have to save up for XD)

Not right now, sorry! Maybe after I’m done with the zine things!!

Anon said:*runs around like an excited puppy* DAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVEDAVE!!!!!!! :D

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

Anon said:AHHH i love your ocs so much also Nico looks so cute and i love learning new things about them

AAAHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY G O D!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:KIRI + PINEAPPLE PONYTAIL = THE BEST THING EVER

I’M GLAD WE AGREE ON THAT

Anon said:your oc's literally kill me!! i already love nico, and i think i speak for everyone when i say that we definitely want more of him and luca!! i don't know if it's just me, but I love when the angry, swearing types fall for someone.

SOB thank you so so much for the kind words about my kids ;^;

Anon said:OH MY GOD LUCA IS BACK!!!! YESSSSSSSS FUCKING KILL ME THIS IS A BLESSED DAY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. MORE OF YOUR OC'S!!! (only when you want to share of course, I'm just trying to convey my enthusiasm here. not demanding at all ^^)

I think that might happen soon enough, actually!!!! Thank you so much for the interest in them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Are josh and chris still not dating?

Sadly until I’ll sit down to write their story that specific part of it won’t go anywhere :( Chris gotta deal with a bunch of things before he’ll be ready to put a name to what’s between him and Josh 3 one day I’ll let him work through it !!!

Anon said:I'm so paranoid I'm going to repost one of your post by accident but the thing is is I never even repost anything at all but just because I know you don't want them to be I'm so scared that by accident I'm going to have something screenshotted and forget it's yours and like Ugh😂

Well, my name’s written on all my drawing so I doubt you’ll forget it’s my stuff lol to make sure you’re not reposting anything the author doesn’t want reposted you can always just ask before reposting it, tho~

Anon said:I was just scrolling through your OC stuff and I just. Love them so much. Thank you for the babies ❤

GOD THANK YOU ;O;

Anon said:Okay I've never seen your oc's before and Dave is the cutest green boy I love him

AAAAHHHHHH I’M GLAD!!!!!

Anon said:kamijirou getting together? :3 also if there were ever a scenario where jirou would confess first, what do you think she would be thinking?

I actually have half a thing planned for that :0 gimme a while to get around to drawing it!

Anon said:How do you feel imagine kiri’s parents???

Actually since I’m still hoping one day Hori will give us the official versions I try not to think too much about it! I don’t wanna grow attached just to have to give them up once I’ll have the canon versions haha

Anon said:hey quick innocent question ive been following for a long time and saw a lot of your art do you have a thing for feet

Are you asking because I draw a lot of people barefoot? Feet are just easier and faster to draw than shoes, anon

Anon said:I love how you answer asks all at once. It’s nice to see that you’re getting in bulk appreciation

THANKS I honestly just don’t want my blog to be more asks than art, so I let them pile up before answering - it does mean I make people wait a lot for answers tho orz sorry

Anon said:I LOVE YOUR ART

THANK YOU!!!!

Anon said:You've open a sea of possibilities with red pineapple kirishima. You're a legend :prayeremoji:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wouldn’t call myself that but I’m glad you appreciate him too hahaha

Anon said:i cant help but notice nothings been added to your sero tag in 4 months

That might be because I rarely use single characters tags! Try looking under #bakusquad and #seromina :D

Anon said:Hahaaa hi this is probably really really awkward but I just wanted you to let you know that you're super awesome!! And the fact that your art is something that I can look forward to is absolutely amazing (no pressure tho)!!! So yea, thank you for being cool and creating beautiful art~~ :D ✧✧✧

SOB it’s not awkward at all!!!! thank you SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Would you mind adding some more Tokoyami art to your shop? More specifically the pieces where hes hanging out with Kiri, and the Tokoshoji piece :D Im desperate to bury my notebooks in stickers from your shop rn and the bird boy needs more love ❤

AHW I’m sorry anon, but those are definitely too small to be of any use on the shop ;-; if you’re okay with it I could add the last one I posted? I should seriously draw more of him..................

Anon said:That jacket that Kirishima has on...I NEED!

I drew it and that’s still a mood t b h

Anon said:I went so far back in your blog that it kicked me back to the beginning ;-; I was just getting to the D. Greyman stuff too

AW ;-; (..........it’s good tho, the further you go the least worth it my stuff is l m a o)

Anon said:Do you ever draw kiribaku or something else in paper or some kind of sketch book if you do i would love to see them❤(sorry if my english is bad)

I do have some doodles on paper posted on here somewhere? But tbh I rarely draw traditionally anymore unless it’s just random doodles :(

Anon said:Aahhh!!! I really love your kiribaku shit its so cute!!and you draw so goood too literally when i found this ship i instantly found you and you are so perfect in my eyes and your art!!!!! I looooooovvvvvvveeeeee yoooouuuuuu thank you for being here and showing us this stuff!!❤❤❤❤

HECK thank you!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:i adore your art so much and your bakushima comics make me smile a lot! :) you’re one of my favorite artists now dldksjshskdk

tHANK YOU OH MY G OD ;^;

Anon said:Consider this: fantasy Kirishima meeting normal bakugou, thinking that's his Katsuki 😂😂

.........................you literally got no clue how long I’ve been thinkin about drawing this............ he ck

Anon said:Your drawings give me life 😍❤️

sob thank you so so so much ;-;