#i don't ever check my followers list but i don't think this person follows me

[thrilling-oneway]

*cough*

This isn't significant enough to put in as a submission I don't think but I just think it's funny how rui HATES vegetables, like with a passion, and tsukasa gets on him for this at some point, but tsukasa's least favorite food are bell peppers. which, if my memory serves me right, have the same connotation in japan as broccoli does in the US in that they're THE vegetable that little kids despise. I just think it's ironic. silly goofy even

also this is why: I see your rui popipo and I raise you tsukasa piiman taiso/j

yeah lmao Tsukasa is a bit of a hypocrite in that sense, but the difference between the two is that Tsukasa will eat the peppers even if he hates them because he doesn't like wasting food, but Rui just doesn't eat vegetables at all and gives the ones in his food to Emu when they go out as a group because she'll eat literally anything.

[kokokoula]

what you do

a/n: wowow everyone's been putting out their incredibly stunning works it simply intimidates me. i coughed up something for the new year though, i hope it's good enough :) thank you everyone for your continuous support!!

----

you were the one who suggested going out this late after watching a movie together at his place.

"i'm not tired yet." was your explanation. although the clock's hands indicate minutes past midnight, tsukishima complies. he was never a morning person anyways.

the only other thing awake at this ungodly hour is the empty family mart down the street. so here he is, standing with you along an aisle stocked up with packaged swiss rolls, melon bread, etc. tsukishima is already itching to leave the shop; the airconditioning is too cold and the boy behind the counter has been sneaking glances at you ever since you walked in.

"which do you think is better, sponge cake or doughnut?"

"sponge cake. can we go yet?" kei grumbles, pulling you to him with an arm around your shoulders and chest. your warmth helps, plus he needs to establish that you're his.

"oh wait, we forgot to check out the fridge." you're oblivious to your boyfriend's predicament, slipping out of his embrace and heading off in search for more options. he sighs and follows you closely behind.

a familiar tune starts to play over the store's radio. tsukishima instantly recognises it as one of the songs in your shared playlist. (of course he does, he knows the list like the back of his hand.)

you're beaming to yourself. you hum along to the song, fingers drumming to the beat on the door of the fridge. kei prides himself in having an exquisite music taste; your voice is his favourite thing to listen to. you grab two cartons of strawberry milk and head to the cashier with a skip in your steps.

"you're very happy over just a song."

"excuse you, it's an amazing song." you retort.

the young employee only snaps out of his lovesick daze when tsukishima clears his throat, and hurriedly scans the items with a flustered look. your boyfriend whips out his wallet before you could.

"hey, i can pay for my own things."

"just owe me later." besides, he has something to prove to that kid.

the bell jingles as the two of you finally leave the shop. you hand one of the strawberry milk cartons to tsukishima.

"i wanted to treat you to something since i kept you up late, but i guess you ruined that." you're crazy adorable.

"i appreciate the thought." he places a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

on the walk back to his house, your hands are interlaced. you used this to make him give you a twirl midway. he can't help but smile.

to be honest, he'd be a hypocrite for faulting the boy for gazing at you with such lovesick eyes, because he always has that look when he sees you, and probably worse. it's your charm, and funnily enough, you don't even know it.

it's what you do, and kei doesn't mind it one bit.

[arilevenatz]

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

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

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

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

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

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

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

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

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

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

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

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

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

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

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That will be ten bronze kid"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

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

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

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

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

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

"Good"

"Captain!"

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

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

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

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

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

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

"Captain it was a joke!!"

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

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

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

"ok!"

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

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

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

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

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

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

"You swine"

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

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

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

"Ok then”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

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

"You can have it"

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

"ten bronze"

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

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

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

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

"thank you and...Sorry"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

You try hard to free yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Infatuation.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

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

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

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

“Where are you looking at?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marry me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[captain-bubble-wrap]

As the Canucks' newest rinkside reporter, you're preparing yourself for your first day on the job but things don't exactly start out the easiest. From calling in a favor from your father to interviewing the team's captain, it's bound to be a memorable night.

CW: none

9 October 2024 | Season Opener

Tonight marked the start of the Canucks' 2024-25 season and your introduction to the team's organization and fanbase. This was the biggest day of your career and you couldn't be any more nervous. You had done your makeup twice before leaving your apartment, changed your clothes half a dozen times, and frantically checked your hair in every mirror at least once. You had finally been given the chance to get your feet wet in professional broadcasting and you prayed you didn't fall on your face.

You knew any expectation of your abilities were going to be high just because of the fact that your father was the head coach of the team. Aware that there would be those whispers of favoritism and unfair handouts, you had tried to prepare yourself for such rumors and just wanted to let your work speak for itself. You were a Canucks' Top Prospect graduate and last year, you had reported rinkside for the Abbotsford Canucks as an intern, following college graduation, and it had been a wonderful opportunity. Now, you would find yourself among seasoned veterans and hoped not to feel like a child with numerous babysitters.

You had arrived at the arena around the same time as some of the players, just because if you didn't, you knew you would have found reason to pick another outfit or redo your eyeliner for the third time. Your heels clicked with an echo through the parking garage, your hair swished back and forth in the high ponytail atop your head with each step. You were confident, sure, but beneath that polished exterior was equally as much anxiety and panic.

"Badge?" Demanded the security guard from his post, not familiar with the new face standing before him. You produced the lanyard that was intertwined with your keys from your purse. Once it was in his possession he checked it against a series of papers. Nervousness began to set in within your chest when he didn't give it back quickly. The way he looked at you was like a bouncer checking a fake ID outside a club.

"I don't have you on the list," he replied sharply, handing back your fresh credentials. "No one with your name in Media."

"But I'm reporting tonight," you reassured, eyebrows pulled in from worry. "I was hired back in June."

The older gentleman, portly and with deep lines etched into his face scowled, "I can't let you in. You better call who ever it was who 'hired' you, because I'm not letting in anyone just because they claim to be Rick Tocchet's daughter. Nice try."

"I can show you my driver's licen--."

"Still no one with that name on the list. Now, step aside."

Absolutely taken aback by the rudeness and unbelievable news, you turned back towards where you had walked from and briefly saw two men, dressed in nice suits pass by you. Digging around the interior of your purse for your phone you'd hear the security guard call them by their first names.

"Connor. Quinn. Have a good game tonight, boys," he said to them, far more chipper than he had been with you just moments ago. You knew both players, hell, you knew all of the names on the Canucks' roster. That had been Connor Garland and Quinn Hughes who had breezed past. Too bad they couldn't vouch for you, now you were tasked with calling in a very poorly-time favour.

"Hey princess," said the voice on the other end of the phone once the call was finally picked up. "You alright?"

"No, dad, I'm not," you said, your voice low so to not let anyone overhear your conversation. "Security won't let me in, says I'm not on some media list. Not to mention he thinks I'm lying about who I am."

Your father sighed deeply. He was the last person you wanted to call and whine about someone being mean to you, especially hours before the first puck would drop. You had a job to do, and who better to pull some strings than him? However, it was the timing that was unfortunate.

"What gate are you at?" He asked, the frustration evident in his tone.

"I don't know. I'm at the players entrance or something. Connor and Quinn just went past me."

"Alright. Let me make a call. Sit tight."

"Thanks, dad."

He mumbled a "mhm" before the call dropped, leaving you loitering, hoping the guard didn't threaten to escort you off the grounds for being unauthorized personnel. What a way to start the night, the season, and your career. It wouldn't take long however before the ringing of a phone would echo throughout the garage. It had come from the security booth and you hoped it was someone calling on your behalf. Unable to stifle your curiosity, you looked towards the direction of the booth to see the man looking at you, nodding while he said nothing. He'd motion you over with a wave of his hand and you'd waste no time seeing what it was about.

"Apparently, your name wasn't added to the active media correspondents," he said flatly, hardly that of an apology. "You can go on in."

"Thank you," you sighed, making short work of the remainder of garage that opened up into the bowels of Rogers Arena. Finally, you were where you needed to be and it was already a mad house. Equipment managers were transporting rolling carts of towels and all manner of various odds and ends through the hallways and around tight corners. You had general directions of the media hub and you were thankful you had gotten there so early, because finding that specific room was like a treasure hunt. After probably twenty minutes of navigating the behind the scenes world of the arena, you arrived at the door.

"Oh, you must be Y|N Tocchet! So good to meet you! We're glad you made it," remarked Senior Writer Chris Faber, who was going over his notes when you came in. "We heard you'd be joining the team. Welcome."

"Thank you so much, I'm eager to get started!"

"We love the eagerness," he added, always happy to have young talent involved in the sport and pioneering for younger generations to follow. "Heard you made quite the name for yourself in Abbotsford last season."

"I loved it there! It was fun watching to see who had the hints of being a big talent develop down there. It was always loud," you smiled with a nod.

"I think you'll fit right in with us here. No doubt your father is proud," Chris said, with the smile himself.

"You'd have thought I had been drafted first overall!" You remarked, remembering how he had boasted when you got the call from upper management about the reporter position being given to you. "I have a high bar to strive for. Can't make him look bad, you know?"

Chris chuckled, reassuring you that you'd have no trouble transitioning into Vancouver's content team. "I'm sure you'll make him proud. Now, you have any questions for me?"

"Actually, I do. What is my schedule for tonight?"

"You're going to interview Quinn during warmups, get his opinion and insight on how the team preformed through the pre-season and his outlook and expectations for this season. Think you can handle that?"

"Absolutely," you beamed, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. It was actually happening; you had made it.

- - -

Warmups began to an overwhelming response around the arena. You walked down the tunnel following the team and were instructed to stand at the end of the bench. Quinn had already been told you meet you along the boards following a few hot laps. Watching the players at ice level really hit home that tonight was real. Nothing could beat the opening day of a hockey season. The energy was electrifying: from the fans screaming at the top of their lungs, player's fresh reactions to playing again, and shouted messages coming from the coaches. Opening night was just another beast entirely, and it marked the official start to the season and fans were eager to begin that grind and see their team back in the playoffs.

"Good luck, sweetheart," your dad would say as you passed in front of him and the other assistant coaches, a gentle smile across his lips. You'd give him a wink before getting to where you needed to be.

Your eyes zeroed in on Quinn's number forty-three as he practically floated across the ice, edges sharp and skating so fluidly. You had watched him since his debut with the team, and he was seriously one of the most beautiful skaters in the game right now. Your cameraman went over the key points of your short interview and you would give a quick nod in agreeance.

"You're going to do great! Don't worry!" He said to hype you up, and give you the confidence boost you needed to calm your nerves.

It didn't take long for Quinn to finally make his way over to you. He didn't do an aggressive hockey stop, not that you thought him the type to do so, instead he sort of just listed to the two of you, looking eager to already have it over and done with. You had watched numerous other girls before you have the chance to interview the star captain, and each time he just came off like he wasn't comfortable doing the interview aspect of his job. You hoped you'd make it easy on him so he could get back to warming up, and so you could get your heart back to a regular speed.

The cameraman, again, would give you a nod, checking his equipment before giving you the signal to begin your conversation with Quinn. His eyes were down, gloved hand holding his stick upright like he was at attention. It would be after you greeted him that he would finally bring his eyes to your face, actually seeing you for the first time.

"Welcome to the start of the new season, Quinn," you said brightly, smile beaming.

He swallowed hard, almost like he had forgotten how to speak, "Thank you."

"You're fresh off of winning the Norris, congratulations! Do you have a plan for trying for a back-to-back award winning season, or is that not really a concern for you? Sort of a, 'if it happens it happens' type of thing?"

"Really just focused on making sure we can win as many games as possible is the main objective, right now. We're hopeful to have a repeat trip to the playoffs first. Anything extra is just that: it's extra."

Quinn dropped his eyes from you while you spoke your next question. He seemed so disinterested and you were hoping that you weren't a bumbling idiot on camera.

"How confident are you in your team following camp and how the pre-season faired?"

"I think we put everything we have into how we practice at any given time. It's nice getting together with the guys again, and feel that brotherhood reconnect even in practice. I think we're all in a good headspace at the moment."

"Finally, what can fans expect from this year's Canucks lineup?"

"I think we're a solid group of players who bring a multitude of strengths to the ice, and we're prepared to bring that night after night all season long."

"Wonderful! Thank you so much, and good luck."

Quinn nodded at your parting words. "Thanks."

As he skated off, you faced the camera for your sign off, "Tonight marks a fresh start for this Canucks' team, and fans can believe that they're in for a strong season."

Holding your smile until given the signal that the recording had ended, you'd breath a deep sigh of relief immediately after. Your palms were slick with sweat and your heart was beating in your ears, but you had done it!

"See, I knew you had it in you! That was fantastic for your first NHL interview!" Remarked your cameraman, picking up his tripod and laying it against his shoulder. "Great job!"

"I was so nervous," you laughed.

"It didn't show! Congratulations."

You smiled, and went to follow him from the bench, but before you got too far from the boards, you heard someone calling out to you from the ice. Looking over your shoulder, you'd see Quinn skating back to you.

"Good luck on your first game," he said, a warmup puck in the palm of his glove. You'd reach for it, shocked by the kind gesture that hadn't crossed your deepest daydreams.

"Aw, thank you so much," you blushed, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks. Quinn would smirk, his eyes dropping from your face yet again before he rejoined his teammates following the end of the warmup sequence. Quickly, you'd make your exit, not wanting to linger where you didn't belong for a second time today. But passing behind your father, he'd give you a quick hug at your accomplishment.

"You're a natural," he whispered. "You did so well."

"Thanks dad!" you said, heart swelling. "Good luck tonight~"

- - -

The game had come to a heartbreaking end for home fans when the Flames had managed to score a goal in overtime. A collective sigh of defeat hung over the interior of the arena which followed everyone out with disappointment and broken spirits. Everyone had hoped for more; had hoped for a win in regulation to start the season, not a participation point for losing in OT. Regardless, a single point was better than none.

You said goodbye to your new colleagues, and started to make your way back to the parking garage. Your dad would be busy going over things with the players as well as post-game interviews, so waiting for him would be a complete waste of time. All you really had to do was head back home.

It had been an exciting day, one that had both fried your nerves and catapulted your confidence. Your interview with Quinn had turned out quite smooth and polished, when you watched the playback. You found yourself looking at Quinn the entire time, noticing him stealing looks at you that you hadn't realized before when you were interviewing him. How had you missed that? His eyes blinking up at you, those gentle nods to each of your questions, the one subtle smirk he'd let slip at you telling him good luck at the end. You had blushed watching it, like you had when he gave you the puck souvenir to mark the start of your career within the organization. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you. It had just been a puck; your father likely would have done the same thing if Quinn hadn't beaten him to it.

The question would plague your mind the entire drive home.

Even when you went to bed, your mind kept replaying Quinn smiling as he skated away from you the second time. The puck sitting on your nightstand would cause quite the dream that night.

[starcurtain]

What do you think Aventurine would be like as a boss?

Aventurine's first character story tells us that people both outside the IPC and internal to the Strategic Investment Department are explicitly racist toward him, so I would say first that I suspect Aventurine's team is much, much smaller than other Stonehearts like Topaz. For example, we constantly see Topaz's dumb "support squad" following her around in most of the events she shows up in, while we've never been introduced to a single "Aventurine support squad" member.

My suspicion is that, between the rampant racism and the undoubtedly common rumors about Aventurine's dangerous behavior, very few people are even willing to be put on his team in the first place. I suspect he's much more likely to be paired up with one or two "strategic partners" (like Ratio) and sent to handle things that way, rather than actually having a large group of underlings he directly supervises.

But just logistically speaking I'm sure he does have a few underlings, and I think... He's probably a very difficult person to work for, for a couple reasons:

He will almost certainly beat assholes to the punch. If a majority of the people who have been assigned to work with him don't want to be there, you can bet he's not going to wait around for new people to prove they are racist garbage. I imagine that, for the most part, he's off-putting and offensive to new people from the get-go. You ask which desk is yours and he just goes "Oh, feel free to set your things anywhere!" then turns around like: "Wowwww. Jim, this rookie is trying to steal the desk you've had for ten years! How inconsiderate our new friend is proving to be~!" New people on his team probably have the worst few weeks of their lives. (Because... If people are going to hate him on principle alone, he might as well give them a reason, right?) However, this has the effect of weeding out most of the people who are incapable of dealing with Aventurine's antics, so I imagine that the few who persevere through the hazing are probably genuinely decent folks. Those that make it past the initial "Let's see how much you hate Sigonians and disrespect me personally" vibe check probably end up on Aventurine's good side, and I think he eventually eases off his newbies after a while. (Not before they've proven their exceedingly high tolerance for shenanigans and even higher ceiling for shock factor, though. If a new employee makes it past the first month of working for Aventurine, literally nothing else will ever phase them. An elephant-sized Warp Trotter could warp them all six galaxies over and they'd just be like "Anyone got a working cell? I need to tell my babysitter I won't be back by 9.")

I think he's just never there. Absentee boss in the extreme. It's not that he ever slacks or doesn't do the work--it's just that he's constantly going off and doing the missions all on his own. It doesn't matter how many times the higher-ups assign him to do a team task, tell him he has to take the full squad... He just scampers off and does the deal entirely on his own, comes back covered in blood, and is like "Hey guys, I took care of the problem; enjoy some comp time on me!" I don't think he drags his average-level underlings into his dangerous gambles; I think he just does all the work with their clients by himself or with a high-caliber partner. You would think this would make him a great boss to work for, but I implore to put yourself in such an employee's shoes: You go into the office every morning only to see your to-do list is empty. Your boss isn't there to give you any new direction. After twiddling your thumbs for four hours, you find out the reason he isn't in the office this morning is that he's recovering from betting he could take an entire pack of Borisin in a fist fight. He's not in the hospital because of the fight (which he won). He's in the hospital because he was then promptly shot in the back by the guy he was betting with. Why is your life like this? Why must you be subjected to the soap opera of your boss's own self-destructive spiral?

Even when he's around, he's probably weirdly awkward. Don't get me wrong, I bet when he's in a good mood he throws all kinds of extravagant parties in the office, and his employees would never lack for bonuses and perks. But I think he has never really bothered to learn--or perhaps simply does not care--about normal managerial behaviors and boundaries. Like, you slip up and tell him your mother-in-law is in the hospital. He comes back five minutes later to tell you he's just bought six bouquets (sent from your address), commissioned a personally embossed card for her with your monogram, and contracted the services of the best-reviewed individualized medical team in Pier Point under your name. He's patting himself on the back for being an incredibly thoughtful boss. You don't know how to tell him that you haven't spoken to your mother-in-law in years, not since her last attempt to poison you. Every six months he buys the whole team new cars. You have no idea what to do with all these cars. It's too many cars. Put some cars back. He calls everyone his "friend," but even after working for him for years, you still have absolutely no idea about his likes, dislikes, or hobbies outside of the IPC. You could not name his favorite food if someone put a gun to your head. Does he exist outside of the workplace? You literally can't imagine him anywhere but on a mission or at a poker table. He's constantly bringing an "I am the party!" vibe to the room, but everyone else is a bored 8-5 worker who doesn't have a drop of enthusiasm left in their veins. It's like when a singer asks the audience to cheer along with a song, but nobody in the audience makes a peep. Absolutely no one in the IPC cubicles can match his particular freak. Aventurine's a smooth-talker and a street-smart cookie for sure, but something about the way his smile looks like it's made out of plastic when anyone tries to engage him in chitchat at the water cooler gives you the vague impression that he's probably never had an actual friend in his life. If "uncanny valley" was a vibe a workplace could have, Aventurine's office would have it.

Long story longer, I think Aventurine has very few people willing to tolerate him as a boss, whether because they are racist or simply because his quirks are just too quirky. However, I like to imagine the few who have hung in there are ride or die. You know they have an "Aventurine Protection Squad" group chat. They probably all wear peacock-teal and gold accessories in solidarity. They have definitely disappeared people for talking shit on their boss before. Aventurine has no idea how much they actually like him.

[crepesuzette2023]

Only asking if you wanna and have time to do it. No worries if you don't but asking anyway because it would be so helpful. I find it a bit difficult because I'm new. Maybe you've done this before and can add linkto that. Please.

My ask is if you could make a list of McLennon fics on AO3.

A list of favorites. (fan favourites or popular fic writers in the fandom)

A list of finished fics with lots of smut.

A list of fics that is very realistic in the Beatle lore/quite possible/likely to have happend.

A list of uncanon/not likely/ John's still alive, reunion of the Beatles etc.

A list of your own and or own favorites.

Thank you!

Thanks for the ask, Anon!

I recommended some fics in the past, it’s true, but it’s been a while. This is a chance to mention some stories I read & loved since then. (I’ll also link to the older recs, so you can check them out as well.)

(This is long, so I'm editing this to insert a break)

But first there's this:

A list of favorites. (fan favourites or popular fic writers in the fandom)

I can’t speak for the fandom as a whole, because everyone’s taste is different. What I can do is name some stories I personally love, and that are also beloved by many others.

These fics have probably been recced many times, including by me—and for a reason: they’re excellent.

Also: all of these writers have many great fics. The stories below are just entry points to their work.

• On the Way to Work by @roundthatcorner. (Paul gets a job after Hamburg.)

• Lifting Latches/Sending Postcards by ThinkPink20. (Early Days. Paul and John swap clothes.)

• Now and then (there’s a fool such as I) by @stonedlennon. (The trip to Caversham.)

• Six hours in August by @stonedlennon. (John and Paul meet in NYC in 1976.)

• Bird Passing Through by @savageandwise. (John is tripping and visiting Paul after his moped accident.)

• I was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) by @fingersfallingupwards. (McLennon as The Time Traveller’s Wife.)

• baby, it’s all relative by @pauls1967moustache. (Early John and Paul and daddy issues.)

• but still they lead me back by @revollver. Paul remembers the moment when John asked him, do you like me?

• Double Fantasy by @javelinbk. John and Paul’s (modern) Flower Shop AU.

• The Same as it Ever Was by RedheadAmongWolves. John and Paul through the eyes of the newsagent.

• The First Year by candle_beck. Still feeling the reverberations of this one in my bones years after reading.

• Portrait of the Artist by @scurator. (John and Paul take sexy pictures…to sell them for money. For no other reason.)

• Kissing the Blarney by @zilabee. Paul is the Beatles’ talisman. (This is magical realism at its best.)

• Smutlets by @unchaineddaisychain. (Don’t let the flippant name deceive you: this is a massive collection of shorter and longer fics across many genres, eras, and themes. There’s something in there for everyone!)

• The Cat by @merseydreams. Post Beatles break-up. Paul thinks John has a new boyfriend. He has thoughts about this.

And, of course, my personal favorite of all time, my desert island, gold-disc-for-space, “printed it all to make sure I won’t lose it when The Internet™ is gone”: I Need You Darlin’ (So Come Go With Me) by @beatlessideblog. Omegaverse version of John and Paul’s love story (do not scroll away!), with Paul being the alpha. I keep saying this, but it’s fantastic how the writer combines omegaverse ideas with late 50’s/ early 60’s Liverpool. Novel length plus 9 extras, what can I say. We are all blessed.

A list of finished fics with lots of smut.

Here are some recent smutty favorites. (Below are links to older smutty recs!)

• Loops by @dailyhowl. Sgt. Pepper’s era. John and Paul create tape loops of themselves during sex.

• just to make me misbehave by @dykebeatles. 1967. Paul and John have sex before, during, and after the Sgt. Pepper’s launch party.

• Lonely Hearts Column by @unchaineddaisychain. Modern AU, middle-aged composer Paul and younger artist John, and a lovely night followed by the sweetest breakfast.

• Ask the Glass by @unchaineddaisychain: Young John and Paul, and two séances.

• Put A Spell on You by @eveepe. Help! Era. The size difference between Smaul and John works very well for both of them.

• monkey’s paw by @ameliepoulain. Repressed tension and catharsis during the Japan leg of the  ’66 tour.

• lift up your heart and sing you a song by @wronglennon. Sex during the making Magical Mystery Tour. Paul wears the white suit.

• it’s good to touch by @pondpossum. Smutty mclennon art!

• The Look of You by @ohjohnnysblog. Paul is fisting John.

• the chronicles of trying to keep quiet and almost getting caught by lazydaisychain. On tour, John and Paul are trying to make space for their love.

• Piston Engines (Shift to Overdrive) by SwishyNibblyNibbly. John and Paul join the Mile High club on the way to their first US visit. Also:

• NSFW favorites (Feb. 2024)

• What’s the most raunchiest, dirty, and just explicit Mclennon fic you’ve ever read? (March 28, 2024)

• Hi, I would love recs for mclennon fics dripping in sexual tension, like six hours in August by stonedlennon. It doesn't need to have explicit sexual content. Thank you! (March 6, 2024)

A list of fics that is very realistic in the Beatle lore/quite possible/likely to have happened.

I think that’s an interesting ask, to be honest. I’ll take this to mean stories that feel “in character” and are compliant with canon events as we know them—not stories presenting a plausible explanation/only possible version of events. (Subtle difference.)

Here are some fics I could think of that fit this description (more links at the end of this post, if interested) : Krankenstand by @savageandwise. John takes care of a sick Paul in Hamburg. Two Truths, and Two Lies by J_Deandra_j. John and Paul from 1965-67, based on four quotes.

the best of times, the worst of times by @crumblingcookies. John and Paul during the Beatles' 1964 visit to the British Embassy in Washington.

Someone Else Can Worry About Me... by @idontwanttospoiltheparty. Paul comforting, and being comforted, through the years.

in france, they kiss on main street by @orphanbeat. Paul is spiraling about John during their 1966 visit to Paris.

The Dream by monkberrymoon. Screenplay-format story centered on the Did you dream about me last night? scene in Get Back.

Transatlantic by @therealsaintscully. Don't let the incomplete chapter count distract you; the first two chapters each stand on their own. John and Paul are talking on the phone after the break-up.

and when i touch you by @forthlin. Early days. John and Paul notice the different size of their hands.

Huddersfield, 1963 by @dovetailjoints. The story behind the adorable 'boyfriends' photo.

The Sober Cannibal and the Drunken Christian (Anonymous). John and Paul wake up together in Paris.

(help me) get my feet back on the ground (ladeedahblue). The toboggan sandwich!

Unsaid in Studio Two by the Beatlefix. John and Paul yearn for each other as they work on Strawberry Fields Forever.

knows not where he's going to by @dovand. Liverpool days. Brian finds John in his office one morning.

See Us in the Real Life by RedHeadAmongWolves. Two EMI canteen workers observe the Beatles, and especially John and Paul, in the early days of their career.

Shooting Star by @pie-of-flames. Early days. John and Paul see a shooting star together.

Giving me the excitations by @backbenttulips. After the Pet Sounds listening party, Paul writes a song—while having sex with John.

Field-Boxing by @the-paper-apricot. Paul considers going back on tour.

all by design by @thegirlwiththeaxe. Early days. A smitten and determined Paul is plotting to sweep John off his feet at the fete.

A list of uncanon/not likely/ John's still alive, reunion of the Beatles etc.

Music save your mortal soul by @backbenttulips. (This writer is a specialist at middle-aged/old mclennon fix its! In this one, John persuades Paul, who he accuses of being a sell out, to go on a tour though the pubs...as The Nerk Twins.)

Leads Me To Your Door/The Four of Wands by @bluewater9. Gorgeous, real and warm two-parter about John and Paul in '89/'90: together, and on the brink of coming out...but not quite there yet.

And the fics listed here:

• Fics in which John is old and happy (Dec 8, 2024) ( this probably should have said middle-aged or old)

• mclennon fanfiction in which one or both of them is/are old (June 24, 2024)

• Old mclennon recommendations (2/2/2025)

A list of your own and/or own favorites.

Here are some Beatles fics I loved recently, with some space for non-mclennon.

John/Paul/Brian. Series (1963, 1967) by @scurator. Goes well with: Billet doux (Brian/Paul).

Paris, 1961 by whiteisthewarmestcolor. "A young Parisian woman meets two British musicians staying at the Montmartre hotel run by her family." I love this unusual outsider POV on John and Paul, and Beatles when they're famous...

cool about it by ohhamlet. After Hamburg. George and Jürgen, George and Paul.

a lesson in not caring by @javelinbk. John's thoughts and feelings during Paul's arrest in Japan. With a beautiful final chapter...

visionen christi by @dykebeatles. Hamburg. John has visions...Paul and George take care of him. The emergence of a tender trinity.

Lay, Lady, Lay by @aquarianshift. Paul and Jane, noble lady & stable hand role play.

love is a finder, always by @wronglennon. Instant all-time favorite. Hamburg: Paul and John and their demons are in love without knowing...until they do.

All Flesh is Weak by @thegirlwiththeaxe. 1967. Paul is a priest, John is a writer. They meet in grief, and make each other come alive. I love how warm and kind John is...!

She's not a girl who misses much by Anonymous. Yoko studies John and Paul.

half of what i say is meaningless, but i say it just to reach you by @pauls1967moustache. "CIA agent Tom Dawkins tries to decode Lennon/McCartney" — and finds himself. An awakening!

Oh Dear What Can I Do by @louiselux. 1966. John and Paul kiss on stage...and what happens after.

Your Song Will Fill the Air by Sminking: Strange days after Brian's death. India. And a happy ending? Unfinished, but hopefully finished soon. Dark and interesting.

i walked with you once upon a dream by @menlove. A Christmas Carol during he making of Magical Mystery Tour.

With a Little Help by @notgrungybitchin. 1967. John and Paul are such a couple during the Sgt. Pepper's photoshoot...

this boy would always feel the same by @adriennefrombrooklyn. 1975. Paul is divorced, and traveling to NYC with Robert Fraser. John, back with Yoko after the lost weekend, is jealous....

And finally:

• Here is a big blog post I made in December 2023 with my overall favorites in various categories at that point...

• Here are all my fic recs (many different asks) under the #fic recs tag on my blog

• Here are all my bookmarks on AO3

• And (since you asked) my own fics are here

Thanks again for asking, Anon, and I hope you find something in this huge mess of a post that you enjoy!

[ro-is-struggling]

Milkshakes, forced hugs and accidental kisses || Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: the story of how you and Johnny accidentally take your relationship to the next level by sharing a kiss in an attempt to get rid of his ex

THIS IS PART 3 OF MY MINI-SERIES FIREPROOF! Masterlist + info (series summary & warnings) HERE

Warnings: fem! reader, fluff, Johnny being Johnny, the misogynistic trope of the super annoying mean girl (read the series masterlist for context). I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed anything! 

English is not my first language

Word count: 3000

Do you want to get notified when I post? JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE!

“Your whole idea of talking to women and telling the truth sucks!” Johnny walked into the apartment and slammed the door behind him. He sounded upset and you wondered what could have happened to him now.

“Hello to you too! My day was fine, how was yours?” You spoke in a sarcastic tone, without looking up from the laptop resting on your lap as you typed the end of the essay you had been working on all week.

“It sucked! Because of you and your dumb ideas!”

“C'mon, what could hav– OH.” You stopped in mid-sentence as you looked up. You burst out laughing as you saw the state of your friend. He looked as if he had fought and lost with a giant ice cream cone. His t-shirt was wet, his face had multicolored sprinkles stuck on it and you were pretty sure that a cherry rested in his hair, stuck in his blond locks from what you assumed was ice cream or milkshake. “What happened to you?” you managed to blurt out with a chuckle, though Johnny didn't seem amused at all.

“I took your advice and I broke things up with Ashley and... well, let's just say she didn't appreciate my honesty and maturity as much as you led me to believe she would.”

“Oh, honey, no, you're not blaming me for this. My advice was great, your problem was getting involved with Ashley in the first place.” You laughed. Everyone knew Ashley could be a little... intense. Johnny knew it too, that was why he had avoided her for so long. He knew that once he slept with her he wouldn't be able to get her off his back, and yet he had fallen into her trap.

Johnny had spent every second since he woke up with a hangover the next morning regretting his actions. He had even made you swear not to let him have a drop of alcohol ever again. According to him, he needed you to keep him in check since, apparently, he could no longer trust the decisions of his intoxicated mind. Of course that didn't last long —the following weekend he was out partying again—, but his regret about sleeping with Ashley remained. It didn't help that she hadn't stopped calling him and chasing him around campus since. Johnny was running out of excuses or places to hide so he wouldn't run into her. Just two days earlier he had arrived home late because he locked himself in the men's bathroom for two hours after the class he shared with her, praying that she wouldn't be there when he got out. It was then that you decided to tell him that it would be best to talk to her. You were fully aware that it would probably be messy —she loved to make a scene out of everything—, but he really had no other options left.

“It is absolutely your fault!” Johnny dropped down on the couch next to you. “You're making me a better person and that's ruining my life. This would never have happened six months ago.”

“Oh I'm sorry, is real life as a responsible adult difficult?” you teased him looking at him and pouting. “Welcome to the club, it sucks for all of us. Get used to it.”

“Easy for you to say, you're not the one with milkshake all over your body.”

You laughed, running your index finger down Johnny's cheek to wipe off some of the cream that had stuck to it. “That was a nice touch. I didn't think she had it in her.”

“This is funny to you?”

“Yeah, a little.” You shrugged and Johnny threw a pillow at you. “Hey! Be careful, I don't want you to stain the couch.”

That was your mistake. You should have known those words would only push Johnny to be...well, Johnny. A smile spread across his lips, his expression of frustration morphing into one of amusement. You hurried to remove the computer from your legs, setting it safely on the coffee table as your whole body tensed. Your gaze never left Johnny's, watching his movements on alert ready to bolt if necessary.

“Johnny, don't!” You didn't know what he had in mind, but you were sure it couldn't be anything good.

“But I'm sad and I need a hug from my best friend in the whole world.”

You jumped to your feet at those words, seeking to put as much distance as possible between you and him. “No, you're gross! Go take a shower, then we can hug.”

“But I need it now.”

You started to back away as he moved closer to you. “Johnny!” You pointed your finger at him, warning him with a firm look to stay away. But all you managed to do was widen his grin.

“Oohh it's coming!” He announced with his arms wide open as he took long steps towards you.

And just like that you started running around the apartment, yelling at your sugary, sticky friend to stop. Of course Johnny didn't listen to you, enjoying way too much making you run and scream like you were a little girl on the playground. He thought you could be too serious at times, so he liked to cause those moments of genuine laughter and amusement in you. While you were letting out nothing but insults in his direction as you threw pillows at him in hopes of stopping him, the laughter that escaped your throat every time he caught you against the kitchen counter or blocked your path to the bedrooms let him know that you weren't really mad at him.

“Johnny, if you touch me I swear to god-” You weren't able to finish your sentence because in one swift move that was impossible for you to anticipate he tackled you onto the couch, trapping you against the fluffy cushions and his body. “Johnny!” you whined, squirming in an attempt to free yourself from his grip. But then the fucker pressed the full weight of his body down on you, effectively knocking the wind out of you.

“What? I can't hear you.” He scoffed, amused by the high-pitched whimpers you let out as you felt the sticky wetness of what was left of the milkshake transferring to your clothes.

“I hate you!” you mumbled in a breathless whisper, struggling to catch your breath under the weight of your friend's body. He just smiled, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you with that mischievous expression that was so characteristic of him.

“What was that? You love me and you can't live without me? Aw, how sweet of you!”

“You're gonna regret this!”

“See, I don't think so ‘cause you don't look like you can do much right now.”

“That's because you have your big, heavy body pressed up against mine!”

“Aww, you noticed I've been working out! That's why you're such a good friend, you're always paying attention to the small details!” 

Johnny gave you an unnecessarily loud kiss on the cheek, definitely intended to annoy you even more. But you took it as an opportunity to return the favor and get him off you. You took advantage of his closeness to retaliate, sticking your tongue out and licking a long line across his cheek. It tasted like skin and sugar and you almost regretted it immediately after doing so, but he let out a grunt of disgust, using his hands to lift his body a bit from yours to put some distance.

“Oh you're nasty!” Johnny laughed, ”But who knows, maybe it's a more entertaining way of cleaning all the milkshake off.” He gave you one of his recognizable suggestive smiles and this time it was your turn to let out a grunt of disgust at his implication.

“Eww, gross! Get off of me, you pervert!”

After pushing him some more, you managed to get him to leave you alone. He disappeared down the hallway, his laughter echoing as he headed to the bathroom to shower. You took a moment to get up from the couch, allowing yourself to giggle now that Johnny wasn't around to see it. You were never going to admit it to his face, but his bubbly and impulsive personality was part of the reason you were his friend. His joy was contagious and while you often ended up in trouble because of him, you couldn't deny that his spontaneity and fun was just what you needed at times like this. Just before he arrived you had been whining and stressing about all the work you had to do for college. You were close to your limit, but Johnny came along and with a couple of silly tricks he was able to put a smile back on your face.

You complemented each other perfectly, that was the reason why your relationship worked so well. He was impulsive and outgoing, often discarding common sense to have some fun. You were completely different, more calm and reserved, often thinking too much before acting. To put it in Johnny's words, you were boring and could get too serious at times, which is why you benefited so much from having him around. He would get you out of your head, pushing you out of your comfort zone whenever he could. And you made sure to keep him out of trouble —well, you tried to at least. He learned to be normal by being with you, and you learned to let go and have fun. You were an odd pair and that's why you had such a good time together.

You frowned when the sound of the doorbell alerted you, thinking that the pizza delivery had arrived too quickly this time. Although you supposed that was better than what had happened last time. After the place you had ordered from forgot about your order and notified you when it was too late to order elsewhere, you learned the valuable lesson of never leaving Johnny in the kitchen. You knew it was a bad idea, but hunger had clouded your judgment. Now you knew you could never leave him unsupervised in there again, not if you wanted to keep the apartment at least.

“Pizza is here! Hurry up or there will be nothing left for you!” you shouted as you passed through the bathroom door, tapping on the wood before continuing on your way.

Only when you opened the apartment door it wasn't the face of the teenager who always brought you food that you stumbled upon. You regretted not looking before answering when you were met with Ashley's confused expression as she saw you on the other side of the wood.

“I need to talk to Johnny!” She demanded. “It's important.”

“He's busy.” You simply stated, hating the haughty tone in her voice. “But I can tell him you stopped by.”

“I know he's in there! Let me talk to him.” Ashley tried to push past you, but you managed to stop her before she invited herself into your apartment. She didn't like it at all, looking you up and down with disdain as if you were the first person in her life to deny her anything —and from what you knew of her, you very well could be. “I'm sorry, who are you exactly?”

“I'm his roommate.” You replied between gritted teeth, keeping a tight grip on the door ready to slam it in her face if she tried anything else.

“Roommate?” Ashley looked at you as if you were speaking to her in another language and you wondered at that moment if maybe she was so wealthy and spoiled that she didn't know the concept of what a roommate was.

“Yes. We live together to share rent and groceries because the cost of living is way too high. it's a very common practice, I'm sure you have heard of it.”

“I know what a roommate is! I just didn't know Johnny had one.” Ashley looked you up and down one more time and you knew then that her problem was that you were a girl. You rolled your eyes, thinking about telling her that there were a lot of things about Johnny that she didn't know —like how much he hated her. But before you could speak, your friend's voice echoed behind you.

“That's because she's not my roommate. She's my girlfriend.” Johnny stated, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing you against him protectively.

“What!?” Ashley inquired in a tone so high-pitched she probably woke up every dog on the block.

“What?” you said at the same time, tilting your face so you could look at Johnny.

His hair was still wet from the shower, small droplets of water falling from his locks, rolling down his temples to his cheeks and disappearing under his jawline. You noticed then that he wasn't wearing a t-shirt and realized how badly it could be misinterpreted to be hugged like that when he was half naked and just out of the shower. You tried to pull away, but Johnny tightened his grip on your waist. He looked at you with pleading eyes and you knew then that you were willing to let him drag you into whatever mess he was about to cause. That was your job as a friend after all, to help him get out of trouble. And right now he had no bigger problem than Ashley.

“It's okay, you don't have to keep lying about it.”

“I-I...” you stuttered, unsure of what to say or do. But to your luck, you were interrupted by Ashley's high-pitched squeals.

“You changed me for this!? I mean, I knew any woman after me was going to be a downgrade, but holy fuck!” The blonde looked you up and down, a clear expression of disgust on her face. At any other time, that look would have been enough to make you feel bad about your looks for a long time —not that you cared what someone like her thought about you, but it wasn't nice to have someone refer to you in those terms either. But this time, instead of sadness, anger washed over you. Who did she think she was to talk to you like that?

“I guess he got tired of listening to you whine and found himself a real woman.” You spat, impressed with yourself. Ashley gasped, but she couldn't come up with a come-back because what you did next left her speechless.

Without giving it much thought, you turned around and, standing on your tiptoes to get to his level, you pressed your lips to Johnny's. You didn't know what had taken hold of your lips, but you didn't know what had taken hold of them.

You didn't know what it was that had taken hold of you, but you stopped questioning it when he responded to your kiss. His hands instinctively traveled to your waist, pressing you against him as he moved his lips expertly. You buried your fingers in his hair, using your grip to pull his face closer to your height. Ashley didn't stick around to watch the show, her high-pitched complaints and the clicking of her heels echoing down the hallway as she left in humiliation. But neither of you heard anything, too lost in the moment to pay attention to your surroundings.

The kiss was more intense than you expected, but that's the way it was with Johnny. It was hard to keep up with him when his lips seemed to know exactly what to do to make you weak in the knees. He was a damn good kisser and you hated that now you knew it. All this time you had spent laughing at the women who fell into his trap, unable to understand how they could possibly go so crazy for him, but now you knew why. And what you hated even more, you knew that you were no different from them. With just one kiss he already had you at his mercy, the bastard! Practice had served him well.

When Johnny's tongue caressed your lips you didn't put up any resistance. You let him explore you and take what he wanted from you without the slightest complaint, melting in his arms. You forgot that he was your best friend. You forgot that Johnny Storm was the biggest womanizer on campus. You even forgot that you had sworn never to fall for his charms. All you could think about at that moment was his soft lips caressing yours, the warmth of his body pressed against yours and the tingling his fingers aroused in the exposed skin of your waist. It was as if you were in a kind of trance induced by his closeness from which you could not wake up. Although frankly, you didn't want to either.

However, the magic of the moment was broken when you felt Johnny's hands move down from your waist to your ass, squeezing the flesh between his fingers as you had seen him do with countless women. That simple gesture was enough to bring you back to reality. The voice of reason in your mind scolded you for being so irresponsible and in response you pulled away from Johnny, pushing him away from you.

“C’mon! Just when it was starting to get good” Johnny complained and you punched his arm to shut him up.

“I was just playing along with your dumb idea” You excused yourself, closing the door when you saw that Ashley was gone.

“That wasn't just playing along, that was pure lust and desire.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes at his exaggeration, trying to hide how embarrassed you were.

“I got her out of here, didn't I? You should be thanking me.”

“Oh you did a little more than just that” Johnny continued to tease you, taking a few steps to get closer to you. You didn't back away no matter how much you wanted to put as much space as possible between the two of you. You were afraid that if you moved away he would notice how nervous you were getting.

“Tell me, exactly how long have you wanted to do that?”

“Me!? You're the one that grabbed my ass!”

“Hell yeah! I won't pass up any opportunity to grab a pretty girl's ass.” Johnny winked at you and you hated yourself for feeling momentarily happy to be considered a pretty girl by him. It was pathetic!

“You're disgusting.”

Johnny Storm/Fireproof Series taglist: @feel-my-psycho-love @nada3000

[reiderwriter]

🍷 Alcohol Free 🍷

Week 1 of my Playlist series! Inspired by Alcohol Free by TWICE.

Summary: You're the designated driver for half of your friends, and Spencer is the designated driver for the other half, so why do you feel so buzzed when you're around him? OR; taking every opportunity when you finally meet Spencer Reid for the first time ♡

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption, but reader and Spencer are both sober. A/N: Welcome to week 1 of the Playlist! I think we started with an absolute banger, and for such a fun, upbeat song with this, I had to make this a fluff (sorry to all my smut and angst enjoyed, please be patient 🫡). I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to send me more song recs, as I'll be writing one follower chosen song fic per month 🥳

Check out my masterlist here~

“How much have you had to drink exactly, Pen?” You laugh as you watch her wobble back and forth, at her table.

“We started with champagne and wine. And then there was the cocktail round, so, a few margaritas here and there. And a mojito. Maybe a mimosa. I think a guy bought me a pint colada at the bar earlier,” her words were so sharp you almost couldn't believe she'd drank anything at all, but the fact that she said all this while swaying gently from side to side had you giggling at her antics.

“Don't forget the tequila!” Penelope's friend Emily groaned from the other side of the table then were gathered at, face already flat on the surface as if her hangover had already hit.

You'd been friends with Penelope for over a year now, so you were acquainted with all of the girls there, and had agreed to come and meet them on one of their girls nights out. You were never a big drinker though, so you offered to be the designated driver for the half of the gang that were committed to Uber-ing home.

They'd been drinking since the mid afternoon, and by the time you'd gotten off work and cleaned up for the bar, it was obvious that they were going to be a handful.

“Y/N, YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?” JJ shouted from her seat beside you.

“Thank you, JJ, you already said that three times tonight. Maybe we should get you some water?”

“And so kind too, my princess in shining armour,” Penelope giggled.

For most people, being the only sober person on a night out was hell, but you found yourself enjoying it more and more as the years went by. Drunk women were so much like kindergarteners when they reaches a certain blood alcohol level, and you loved seeing what your usually serious and cool girlfriends would come up with.

You also wanted to make sure they stayed safe, and with the impressive list of multiple alcohols they'd just ingested, you wondered if you should be carting them off to the emergency room then and there.

“I THINK YOU'D LIKE MY FRIEND SPENCER. HE'S NERDY. YOU'D MAKE CUTE BABIES.” JJ was still shouting all of her words, despite the bar being relatively quiet and you almost did a spit take with your water as she kept on.

“Stop trying to marry Spence off, Jennifer.” Penelope giggled, over pronouncing JJ's name as if it were her first time ever using the word.

You'd heard a lot about this Spencer Reid since you'd become close with the girls at the table, and honestly, you were happy that JJ deemed you good enough for their Spencer.

From the sounds of it, all three of them nagged at him like elder sisters who found him endearingly annoying, and were fiercely protective of him. It made you curious.

“Are you seeing anyone, Y/N?” Emily asked, finally lifting her head up slightly, but in a way that made it look like it weighed 500 lbs more than usual.

“I'm not.”

“Why? You're smoking. Half the men in here have been circling your like sharks for the hour you've been here.” You laughed at that and pushed a bottle of water in Emily's direction again, encouraging her to take small sips of water.

“I'm being serious! I may be drunk beyond belief but this is a sober thought.”

“Emily, I love you, but none of these men are interested in me. I'm practically a spinster. I'm 27, I have no money and no prospects, yada yada, already a burden to my parents.”

“That was something nerdy, I know that was something nerdy, my Spencie Senses are tingling,” she quipped.

And as if right on cue, a quiet voice popped up from behind you and all the hairs on your neck stood on edge as it happened.

“It's a quote from the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie, so it's not really all that nerdy, Emily.” You turned, slightly startled in your seat as you finally met the elusive Doctor Spencer Reid.

“SPENCE!” JJ cheered, and the other girls similarly whooped at his entrance. They were overjoyed, but you were slightly overwhelmed, because not once in their descriptions of Spencer Reid had they ever told you that he was quite possibly one of the hottest men to ever grace this good Earth.

His hair was slightly curly, a mess of waves flopping into his eyes, but shorter on the sides, highlighting his sculpted jaw. He was tall, on the lean side and craning your neck to look up at him was a happy experience to say the least.

He greeted his friends and looked down to you, and you felt all the blood suddenly rush to your brain when your eyes locked. Dear God.

“Spencer, this is Y/N, my wonderful, gorgeous, single and attractive friend. Say hello, Spencer.”

“Hello,” he gladly followed the instructions Penelope gave him, and you practically giggled at the sound of his voice. Giggled.

“Hello. I'm the wonderful, gorgeous, attractive Y/N,” you waved at him slightly, but your brain wouldn't stop thumping around as you enjoyed the sight of the man.

“Penelope actually told me about you before. You're working at the indie bookstore near Café Density, right? Castle Books? I got a first edition of T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats there a few months ago.”

“You!” You gasped the word, as a garage of words fell from your mouth in a stream. “You bastard, I was saving for months to buy that thing, and three days before my paycheck I turn up and it was gone! Oh my god, how does it smell? Are the pages mustard yellow or still A little white? They never let me touch it because I almost burst into tears every time I got close.”

To your astonishment, he didn't recoil from your spitfire speech, but laughed happily.

“It's great, the illustrations are amazing. I didn't know someone else had their eye on it when I went in, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise for finding treasure. You'd be a horrible pirate if you did that.” You brain really wasn't connected with your mouth anymore and you resisted the urge to turn and bolt away from the discussion.

“Thank you? I'm not a pirate, but I think that was a compliment.”

“See, nerds made in heaven, JJ was right.” The panic built up again slightly and you were sure your brain was going to explode with all the heat that was flooding to your face.

“What's JJ right about?” Reid inquired, and you almost grasped your chest to stop your heart from beating out of it when he cocked his head to the side.

You hadn't had a lick of alcohol the entire night, and yet you're entire body was reacting like it was drunk on Spencer Reid.

“Oh just that you and Y/N here would make beautiful-”

“BEAUTIFUL CONVERSATIONS HAPPEN.” You quickly cut Penelope off, sending her a warning look that was less subtle than just straight up telling her to shut her mouth.

“Can we go now?” Emily dropped her head to the table again as she threw out the words, looking suddenly three shades greener than she was a moment before. “I think that last shot was the drink that broke the camel's liver, and I'm the camel.”

You passed her the water again and slowly started to help your friends gently gather their things, noticing that Spencer was doing the same.

No wonder these girls were so protective of him if this is how well he treats them. He was their coworker, but he would have absolutely been confused for a filial son for any of the three women as he helped them each.

“Where do you live, Y/N?” He asked casually as you both helped the women out of the bar and into the fresh air. “My car is a bit small, but we can throw these three in the back together and they'll mostly sleep until they get back to their homes.”

“Oh no, you don't have to do that, I can go by myself-”

“I can't let a drunk woman go home by herself, Penelope would give me hell in the morning.” This earned a few giggles from the women beside you. You thought you heard Emily mumbling “some profiler he is,” under her breath as well.

You hesitated. You should've been explaining that you hadn't had anything to drink yet, that you actually drove here yourself and that your car was likely parked right by his. You should've offered to take at least one woman off his hands for the night to share the burden of making sure your friends didn't die.

But it was true that each of the women was likely to completely pass out when they got into the car, like newborns being rocked to sleep by their mothers. And that left Spencer Reid free for conversation.

“Thank you, that would be really nice, actually,” you smiled and followed the man to his car, lugging your wonderfully buzzed friends behind you.

[puckleberryfinnie]

ok so ik my req might seem a bit weird butttttt.. i have been dyingggg for ray. like his body tea, i loveeee his lil accent and smile so i just wanna see like host!reader get nervous when he gets injured, him giving reader his jersey, and a lil post-game smooch 🫶🏾🫶🏾.

girll you don't understand how glad I am that someone else feels this way about him like I feel so wrong about it but?? he's such a cutie?? thank you soso much for sending this in, love this idea <33 so sorry this took so long, life took hold of meee

Beautiful Little Fools

You being a friend of Kai's, and being in several of his streams as an internet personality yourself. Of course, you meet several of his friends, including Ray. He's just using his cheesy "rizz" with Kai's encouragement, and you're laughing on to all his funny tactics.

When the Beta Squad and AMP decide to have the match, there's almost immediately an invitation for you to join in as a host, that you accept gratefully!

The days leading up to the event, you spend a lot of time hanging out with the American group, as well as meeting new people that you become fast friends with.

Ray, however, stays close to either you or Kai at most points, finding himself most comfortable with people he knows pretty well already. Everyone (thought mostly Kai) loves the relationship you two have, and joke around about it a LOT.

You, of course, enjoy his company and help him with training that they have set up for those participating the day before the real match. It's mostly just simple things, though, like returning the balls to him or mock-guarding him.

At some point during the practice, he gets slightly injured, tripping over a ball or something like that. It really isn't that bad, but you find it concerning, especially considering the big match is the following day.

He, however, reassures you, comforting you by patting your head and giving you a brief hug. He doesn't like you being worried about it, so he tried to make sure you understand he's okay.

The next day is obviously intense, and you spend a lot of time making sure Ray is safe, keeping an eye on him throughout the game. You interview him at halftime momentarily, joking around together before he has to go. You also remind him to be safe out there, yelling after him.

He clearly doesn't follow this advice too closely, however, and ends up getting tackled by some larger player (probs Niko lets be so fr) You, of course, feel incredibly scared, watching him from the sidelines all while trying to keep composure as a host.

As he gets guided to the bench to rest, you move yourself over there to talk to him, frantically making sure he's ok. You end up in his arms, him holding you tightly.

After that interaction and him assuring you plenty that he's alright, you go back to doing your job as a host, interviewing other players and such.

Post game, he comes back to see you, striding over to you with intent. It startles you for a moment, when you suddenly see him standing so close to you. He give a short hug followed by a even shorter, nervous kiss.

After a moment of staring at each other, he takes off his jersey, handing it to you with a smile. He doesn't even say anything, just holds it out for you to take.

You end up wearing that jersey on your flight back and on many occasions afterwards. <3

guys I legit don't know why but I really can't tell if I like this style of writing or not. let me know what you think, I'm soso sorry this isn't very good, I truly hope you still enjoy <33

title is a song from great gatsby the musical ofc

anyways, thank you sososo much for being my first ever request, I love you to the moon and back tbh!!

I definitely want to do more of these before school starts to make everything crazy again, so if anyone wants to send something in feel completely free and wanted within my inbox! I'll take requests about pretty much anyone (check out the list of things I love for some reference!!) or I'm for sure here to chat <33

MUAH LOVE YA!!

[xetlynn]

an artists muse- a viktor fanfic.

six.

[five] [six] [seven]

empty tomorrow of its sorrows.

Plopping down in a swivel chair after getting ready for the day you scroll on Instagram. Humming a quiet tune as you check your own following on your art account. It has been a while since you stalked yourself, you wanted to see if there were any new accounts that had followed you since the last time you scanned through it. 

The first person on the top of that little list wasn’t who you were expecting. Smiling you clicked on his account. Viktor. 

You go through his stuff like you hadn’t done it a million times before after meeting him. You were actually about to go meet him at the cafe.

Seeing him on Saturday shocked you, you didn’t think it was his scene. It really wasn’t but his friends kept him company. You would’ve too if you weren’t running around, helping your friends and making sure they weren’t getting too drunk. You tried to speak with Viktor whenever you had the chance though. 

Now going through his following you see a familiar name that makes your heart drop to your stomach. A mutual with the art account, m.herald2077. Viktor knows him?

M.herald2077 didn’t block you on your art account? Wait. 

That’s right, he got logged out of this account. You were on the phone with him when it happened. He couldn’t remember the password and when he blocked you on everything you couldn’t get yourself to unfollow this stupid account that wasn’t being controlled by anyone anymore. 

“Is he Ma?” You whispered, standing up from your spot and beginning to panic. They have similar accents. They could be related?

No, his highlight is labeled Ma. That’s what you called him. They have to be the same person. A lump builds in your throat. You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to. They were the same person. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as your chest heaves. You grip at the skin, practically clawing at it. The memories flooding in your head. 

“Why would you say that?” His voice breaks and you wrack out a sob. “Ma, I swear! It wasn’t me, I promise! My friend- ugh she took my phone while I was in the bathroom, I’m just now seeing these messages!” You cry out, pleading with your friend to trust you. “How would she know such… private details I told you?” He asks, holding back his own tears, rereading the words on his screen that had come from your account. 

“I had vented to her, I was upset for you and I just. I thought I could trust her! It’s so not right what I did. I’m sorry! But I swear, I would never think those things!” You stammer, the other line goes quiet. “I don't think I can’t trust you anymore… I’m sorry but wow. I- I gotta go. Live a nice life.” And before you could say anything the phone hung up. 

Leaving you to wail, crying into a pillow as you had just lost one of the closest friends you’ve ever had. 

“Sh-shit.” You squeeze your eyes shut, the liquid from your eyes dripping right down the flesh of your face. You open your phone back up, going to the old account. You knew he’d never see it. You typed out a long, long paragraph. Apologizing, explaining what you never got to over that phone call. Rubbing your lips together, the screen gets blurry at moments when your tears built up, forcing you to blink them away.  

You read it over numerous times before your shaky finger presses send. You close out of it. Staring at the time. 

Now you have to go see Viktor after this discovery. Your heart tightening. You felt like throwing up. How could you look him in the face and not tell him you hurt him the way you did years ago. 

You didn’t know what to do. You could cancel on him. Avoid the cafe for the rest of your life. Switch your chem class. Never see him, protect him from you. He’d never know. 

No. You couldn’t do that. He doesn’t deserve you to treat him horribly twice in his life. Maybe this can be a redo. He’ll never know it was you. And after this semester if you don’t end up having classes with one another again you can go your separate ways and never speak.

Not hurting either person. 

Hopefully.

You grab your backpack, slipping it over your shoulders. You wiped the wetness off of your face. Sniffling to try and hide the evidence of crying.

Viktor takes a sip of his hot, roasted black coffee. Tapping the table as he focused his attention on his laptop screen. Looking over the rules of the Chemistry project he and [Name] had to do together. Figuring out a set plan for the two.

Beside his device was an iced coffee, the cup covered in condensation. With that there’s a cherry danish sitting there. He had also grabbed multiple creamers and sugars that you could put in the cup yourself since he had seen you do it a few times. 

Every time the little bell rings from the front of the cafe his eyes would flicker over. Hoping that it was you even though you said you weren’t going to be there until 7:15. The same time every day. He checked the time, it was 7:14. 

And there you are right as it hits 15. You were rushing inside, wearing a baseball cap that covered your eyes. 

You make a b-line straight for Viktor’s normal spot, climbing into the booth. “Goodmorning!” You beamed, averting eye contact as you pulled out a notebook.

“Goodmorning,” One brow is raised as he observes you, you wouldn’t lift your head up as you immediately start to jot things down on the paper. “You seem… in a rush?” He inquires, sliding the iced coffee over along with the cherry danish. “Weren’t even going to order anything today?” Your movements freeze in place as your orbs land on them. 

You weren’t going to get yourself anything. On your way over you kept telling yourself you didn’t deserve to treat yourself like you normally do. You ogle at the nourishment in front of you. Tears build at the sight. Viktor watches how your face seems solemn. Your mouth stuck shut but your chin was quivering. A single tear falling down your left cheek. 

You were quick to wipe it away. Replacing your sad expression with a forced happy one. “Thank you so much!” You give him a close-eyed smile. “I’ll have to pay you back when I can!” You let out a raspy laugh, taking a bite of the cherry goodness. Since you lifted your head, he could see how puffy your eyes were. They were also red and a bit irritated signifying that you had been crying recently. 

“Why would you pay me back?” He cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows knitted together. He was worried to say the least. “I um,” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Because you didn’t have to do this! I’d feel bad not paying you for this!” You tell him, avoiding his gaze once again. 

“[Name], it’s what friends do. I don’t want your money. Plus you got me that coconut puff the other day. Should I pay you back for that?” His hand goes over to yours that was laid on the table. You shoot your head up. “No! I wouldn’t take your money even if you forced it into my hand!” You tell him with an angry expression and he chuckles. 

“Exactly. See. You’re not giving me anything for this either.” He pats the top of your hand before going back to his laptop. You stare at him for a few moments. Thinking about how you didn’t deserve this. 

You didn’t deserve an ounce of kindness from Viktor. 

You picked up the danish, slowly eating it. It would be rude if you wasted it. 

You notice the sugar packets and the little creamers alongside the iced coffee. You smile down at it. How’d he know? You open the lid of the drink, ripping open the first packet. Viktor peeked over to you. He pondered on what was wrong. Wondering if he should ask or not. But at the same time you clearly did not want to talk about it. You seemed like the type that if you wanted to you would’ve already done it. 

“So, you know our project? For Chem?” He speaks up, mentally cursing at himself because that’s what he chose to say? “Oh, yeah! What about it?” You close the lid of your coffee, taking a drink of it. 

“Well, I was thinking we should get that started. Maybe this weekend?” He offers, your gaze hardens a little bit before you smile.

Viktor takes note of every movement you make. How your demeanor is frequently changing. Like your mind is fighting with itself. “Sounds good! If we go to my place I’ll tell my roommate to not bother us for a few hours!” You snicker, knowing you literally will shut Powder out and tell her to go somewhere with herself for the day. 

“We could go to mine, I don’t have a roommate.” He shrugs his shoulders, wanting to make it simple for the both of you. “Oh that’s even better!” You gleam and he smiles. “Let’s do it on Saturday then, maybe around 1?” 

“Perfect.” You nod your head. 

You get a text from Viktor as you’re heading off campus, it was 2 pm and you had just finished your last class of the day. You look at your screen for a moment before opening the message. 

—------------------------------------------------

vik.tor_e- meet me outside science building in ten minutes?

love.[name]3- ok, im like two minutes from it 

vik.tor_e- i’ll be here 

love.[name]3- why’d you say in ten minutes then!? Lol

vik.tor_e- wanted to give you time >:(

love.[name]3- so silly :P

—-------------------------------------------------

You laugh at the boy, shaking your head as you redirect yourself to start heading to the science building. Picking up your pace now that you know he’s already there. You wondered what he could want to talk about.

The anxiety in the back of your mind was telling you that he had found out. That he wanted to go to your professor and change partners. 

You push the thoughts away once your eyes land on him, he was sitting on the bench right outside the doors. He notices you at the same time, both of you giving each other little waves. 

He stands himself up and you go over to him with a slight nervous expression. “What’s up?” You smile. “I have a list of things to get for the project. I was working on it this morning.” He hands you a paper with a printed list. You stare down at it. Thinking about where to get the stuff.

 “Okay! I’ll get it all before Saturday then.” You sternly say with a positive attitude. “Well, half of it, I’m getting. I put your name by the things you need to get.” He leans in your side, showing you on the paper what he’s talking about.

You take in his scent, half paying attention to him. Feeling his warmth on your arm. You felt like a creep as you snapped out of it when he backed away. What the heck was that?

He goes to say something but a person nudges into you, stopping the both of you from talking to one another. “Heyy, [Name]. Who’s this!?”

Maddie. 

Your jaw tightens, you look down to her. “This is my friend.” You respond, not telling her his name. She squints her eyes over to the boy as he awkwardly stands there. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” She asks him, your breathing hitches. How would Maddie know Viktor? 

“Uh, I don’t think so.” He disagrees and she hums. “I know you, I swear.” She argues. She stares for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “Oh well, I’ll figure it out.” She giggles. “I just wanted to say hi to [Name]. Bye now!” She gives you a quick, one-sided hug before scurrying off. 

Your face deadpans as you watch her go away. You then look back to Viktor. “Sorry about that.” You force out a dry laugh, clearly not that amused. He can tell you had a distaste for the girl but doesn’t question it. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Catch you tomorrow at the cafe?” He asks. 

“Of course!” You grin, the two of you now going separate ways. 

Once you get to your dorm you sit on your bed, relaxing into it before you get this weird sudden urge to want to paint. Randomly motivated to do this image you have in your head.

You dig underneath your loft bed, pulling out a large canvas along with a bunch of brushes and paint. 

taglist: if you want to be added lmk! @policedeer @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @confusedgemposts @ang3lz-lov3 @almostdrowningdown @corpsepies @obittwo @bakusquadobsessed @ren-ni

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

On today‘s episode of „moments in the show that confuse me“, s5ep19 has a piece of dialogue that goes something like this

Marinette: (about how Gabe doesn’t approve of her) He thinks I‘m one of those fans who follows you around everywhere, showers you with gifts and knows all your (Adrien‘s) middle name days

Kagami: Isn‘t that what you used to do Marinette?

Marinette: Yeah but I did it out of love

This scene is so odd because it feels weirdly self-aware but at the same time it really isn‘t? To me it seems like the writers sort of admit that Marinette‘s crush was written like a celebrity crush, but then this doesn‘t go anywhere? It‘s basically just „it‘s the same as a celeb crush but it isn‘t actually🤪“

Like what kind of writing is this? I know I‘m again beimg nitpicky but hey I love hearing your thoughts on the show so do you have thoughgs on this?

I'm honored that you enjoy my rambled! And, yeah, I have a few thoughts on this one. To begin, here's the full quote for proper context:

Marinette: Oh, hey Kagami! How are you? Kagami: Hello, Marinette. I'm fine, thank you. Adrien: I'm sorry, Marinette, it's my fault. I just couldn't talk to my father. Marinette: No, don't apologize! It makes sense that you didn't make it work because that's you! I mean, not you, you but you, as in, not me. Your dad doesn't have a problem with you anymore, he's even become super cool, making you pancakes, giving you all the freedom you need. He's come such a long way and that's amazing. But he does have a problem with me. He feels worried and I would be too if I were him. He thinks I'm one of those fans who follows you everywhere, showers you with hand-knitted gifts and knows every single one of your middle name days. Kagami: Isn't that what you used to do, Marinette? Marinette: Yes... except no! I mean, yes, but I was doing it out of love and, besides, I've changed a lot. Kagami: You are correct. Marinette: Really? You think I've changed a lot? Kagami: No. Well, not that much. But you're right to want to talk to Adrien's father.

This is not a terrible piece of writing. There are pieces of media where this would be genuinely funny. I've previously talked about the fact that Marinette's crush on Adrien is written like a celebrity crush and not a crush on a real person or even a proper stalker obsession. In that post, I also discussed media that features a fan getting to date their celebrity idol:

Whenever stories do the thing where someone meets their celebrity crush and actually gets to know them, there's normally a noticeable shift in their behavior as the character mentally goes, "Oh shit, you're real now." They lose the freedom that came with this being a mere fantasy.

That is the type of story where this dialogue would be funny. A story where Marinette started out as a fan or former fan with an idealized view of Adrien, but ended up viewing him as a real person by the time they started dating. A story where her view of Adrien shifts, but the things she does to show affection don't because it's not exactly weird to want to know everything about your significant other or to want to shower them with gifts. The only concerning thing on the list Marinette gives is "following him everywhere", but she doesn't actually do that in the show, so we're going to ignore that one and focus on the actual problem here.

The problem is that Miraculous never gave Marinette a reality check. There is no point where dream Adrien vanishes to be replaced by real Adrien. The Adrien that she starts dating in season five appears to be everything that she's ever dreamed he would be. He is #boyfriendgoals where he only exists to make her happy. He never shows off his more annoying behavior (and let's be real, Chat Noir can be pretty annoying at times) or spouts any bad puns that make her roll her eyes in a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He is perfection and it's terrible. This is not how you write a solid romance. There's no learning about each others flaws or even meaningful personal growth for Marinette.

We spent four seasons watching her struggle to ask Adrien out only for the resolution to be that he asks her instead. She never has to overcome that personal hurdle. After that, her biggest struggle is being brave enough to tell her boyfriend that she loves him even though he has showered her with love and affection, proving that there is literally zero risk involved here. It's a deeply unbalanced relationship that feels totally unfair to Adrien.

To be fair, there are stories where the Marinette-can't-say-nice-things-to-Adrien plot point could work. However, they're stories where a lot of focus is given to Marinette's trauma and her journey to overcome it. Miraculous didn't do that. Marinette's trauma and Adrien's response to it are handled horribly by every metric because of course they are. This is a formula show that can't handle a plot like this with delicacy and grace.

There's also the issue that, for this plot to work, the romance needs to be way more balanced. We need to be shown why Marinette is an amazing partner for Adrien who just has an area where she's struggling. We need to want them to get past this trial and be together. As-is, it's impossible to support this relationship because there's no substance to it. They're barely even friends before they get together. I have no idea why I should want Adrien to struggle through helping Marinette or why I should want Marinette to work through her issues with Adrien. There are other fish in the sea! Now that the identities are out, she can go back to Luka who she had no issues with!

This all feels very badly written YA or New Adult drama and there's a reason that I don't read those! I don't enjoy wildly unhealthy couples whose main draw is their endless drama and baffling sexual tension. I want couples who I love but, at this point, I can't even summon mild enjoyment for the canon love square.

[thegoldencontracts]

Rec-list!

This is a little compilation of all the twisted wonderland works I personally recommend. Feel free to DM me, or comment anything you think should be added. If you're on this list and I haven't commented on your fic, I'm so sorry! I hope my words of praise here can somewhat make up for it.

Bold Fics/Creators are/make X Reader!

Italicized ones are ones I find underrated, so I highly recommend checking them out!

Tumblr:

Kisses - by @thehollowwriter, a fluffy OC X Azul fic that made me sqeee aghhh it's so cute <3

Azul, Idia, and Riddle With A Flirty Reader - by @etheries1015, tooth-rottingly fluffy tsundere!twst xreader, I love it sm. Ft. Azul, Riddle, Idia

Ashes - by @thehollowwriter, Azul angst and it BROKE my heart, trust me it's painful in the best way.

Untitled Azujami Drabble - by @poisoned-pearls, and though they're popular probably I still think this awesome little fluffy masterpiece is criminally underrated aghhhhh

Ace, Leona, Azul, and Jamil With A Talented Baker - by @atierrorian, super fluffy and I absolutely adored it.

Group Hug - by @whats-it-mean, Ace, Floyd, Jade, and Azul all in a group hug with the reader, it's such a funny premise and yet so well done.

Arms Tonite - by @thesunshineriptide, I honestly believe it is the gold standard for hurt/comfort fics, it's absolutely amazing and honestly one of the best twst fics I've ever read.

Please Don't Leave - by @just-patchy; octatrio poly (no twincest) hurt/comfort, it is so good, don't listen to the a/n saying the writing's bad trust mee.

Azul + Anniversary - @cloudcountry; azul x reader and it's so cute ashdhfdhsfkdlj I'm dyinggg

Coin-Flip - @pomefioredove; this one was so cuteeee azul x reader, it was so fun seeing him get all flusteredd fhjdfkjh

Ao3:

and who'll love me if i'm not the top of my school - by @idia-shroud-is-tmasc/shatteredcoll on ao3; heart-wrenching riddle angst fic in the absolutely best way. If you're a riddle fan, seriously I recommend checking it out.

Of Rosy Snapshots and Deep Dives - by bedtime_at_four_am on ao3; I may be biased but honestly I love all their works, seriously recommend reading it's such a good azurido fic and even if you don't like the pairing you'll find it hilarious.

Rock and a Hard Place - by @thateldribitch/ThatEldriBitch on ao3, it's such a short but sweet fic and honestly I've reread it so many times I've probably ended up skewing the stats HELP-

Fungi Makes A Fun Guy - by Foxyexy on ao3. Azul x Jade and It's sooo cute aghjfdjdk I'm dying I'm deadd-

Business Soulmates - by Mell(MelMystery) on ao3. Platonic octatrio; It's so perfect imo, and one of the few twins meeting azul fics i like.

Indebted - by Midnight_Archives on ao3. So cute, and it's SO underrated, especially compared to other Jamiazu longfics.

Misc. (Follow Recommendations):

@malletsum - hilarious tweets and banger malleus + twst takes imo

@dailytwsttweets - Absolutely fucking hilarious every tweet of theirs is a banger imo, never forgetting "yaoi pills"

@thehollowwriter - banger takes and a bunch of good fics!

@poisoned-pearls - SO MUCH GOOD JAMIAZU STUFF it's actually insanee

@skyephobic - Banger art absolutely EDIBLE imo

@traumxrei-archive - Everyone probably knows them but they write SO MUCH good flustered Azul content it's insaneeee

@luciferzstar - Underrated Azul artist imo, lots of great memes <3

@pomefioredove - Great fic writer imo SHJFDJHKFKJFDS

@jovieinramshackle - Great artist for Azul content, I love their ocs <3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

after your post about malleus i finally said to myself “yeah i can’t force myself to pretend like i like any of the dormheads”. not like i hate them, but after their blots were over i felt like nothing in particular has ever changed about them. the only person who made me think yeah he’s a changed guy is vil. i was really surprised when in chapter 6(if it wasn’t the end of 5th? can’t remember) he apologised to the boys, his acceptance of his own mistakes and awful doings made him skyrocket in my mental tier list

[Referencing this post!]

Mmmm, I'm in a similar boat when it comes to the dorm leaders but for my own reasons; I like the vice dorm leaders a lot better simply because I tend to enjoy characters who play "supportive" roles (butler, bodyguard, knight, older sibling, etc.).

I don't know if I agree with the idea that the dorm leaders (well, + Jamil instead of Kalim) didn't change after their OBs. I believe that we miss out on seeing a lot of their development because it happens off-screen and we the players don't spend every waking moment checking up on the OB boys--but they definitely do change. More specifically, right after their OBs and sometimes upon their returns in the subsequent books. Just because we do not personally witness every step of their development doesn't mean it didn't happen.

Let's look at one example with the first dorm leader. After his defeat, Riddle cries and confesses he doesn't care about the silly rules, he just wants to enjoy his time with everyone. During the unbirthday party that follows his OB, Riddle sees some roses that are not entirely red and his peers expect him to lose his temper again. Instead, he laughs and says he can overlook it, then invites everyone to help him paint them properly. Riddle expresses similar restraint with his anger in book 2; he adopts a policy of strictly chastising and then trying to fix the problem instead of immediately collaring rule transgressors. (The exceptions being with, of course, the wrongdoers of book 2, like Leona.) Then, in book 6, we see Riddle struggling with his character change, as he is shown to still heavily rely on absolute rules and laws to govern his actions, and relies on himself to be the judge of them while shunting out others. It's only when he butts heads with Azul that he's able to be a little more flexible and recognize his peers' strengths. This makes sense, because the time period between book 1 and book 6 is only about 6 months; a complete shift in one's character and worldview won't happen that quickly, nor completely. Riddle must have been working on himself a lot and consciously trying to repress his anger--and he's imperfect at it. This is fine!! Character growth can be messy, slow, and non-linear--and this is true of how the dorm leaders change over time.

As for Vil (since he was specifically cited in your ask!), I'm of the opinion that his early book 6 apology was not the result of a character change. Vil was already very mature and self-aware prior to OBing; I think he would have still apologized if he thought something going wrong was genuinely his fault, as he holds himself to high standards and would acknowledge when he has fallen short of them (even in regards to morals). This is implied in his behavior before he overblotted too; in book 5, Vil repeatedly claims he will defeat Neige using his own power, fair and square. When he falls into despair and resorts to dirty methods to take his rival out, VIl is appalled by the "ugliness" of his actions and begs his classmates to "not look at [him]" because "[he's] so ugly" (referring to his ugly character/morals). This means he was aware of the cruelty of his actions and how they poorly reflect on him (ie he would have felt guilty and apologized afterwards about it anyway). Vil typically comes off as harsh, but he's truly noble when it comes to accepting when he has fucked up. I feel the real change in Vil is something that Rook highlights: the importance of loving oneself, regardless of what others may think of you. This development is made more apparent in book 6, which is the follow-up book to Vil's and allows him a time to shine. Whereas in book 5 Vil was obsessed with being a "hero" and public opinion, book 6 Vil declares to Idia "there are no heroes or villains" and that he is still "fairest of them all" (echoing a line Rook says in book 5), even as a withered old man.

I don’t want to ramble on for too long!! If you’re interested in reading about how the dorm leaders (+ Jamil) are grappling with their character arcs following their books, I’d recommend this post. It only goes up to Vil since the analysis is very book 6 heavy. I’d recommend this one for Idia, but be warned it does not take into account book 7 events since it was not out at the time of writing.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Shifting Sands

AN:Hey folks - I had a horny dream and this was born. Absolutely not sorry in the slightest.

In this AU, shifters of all types are known even if they aren’t prevalent, including some subsets where the person has special abilities, but doesn’t actually shift into another creature. This includes our reader, who carries ‘Princess’ genes.

And if you want to know what I was imagining for Lloyd’s ahem then check out this link (ignore the colours, or not 🤭). Be warned, it’s obviously NSFW.

Also, this is un-beta'd so apologies for any typos or sentences that don't make sense.

Mood board by me, dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Masterlist

Summary: Being a Princess is wonderful, but unfortunately trying to find your Prince isn’t. However, a chance encounter leads you into a relationship with a man who is like no Prince you’ve ever met.

You couldn’t really argue, the state you were in. And you did agree that you probably needed to be checked over and have your bike assessed as well. So, with nothing really to do until the paramedics arrived, you watched as the man paced up and down, phone pressed to his ear.

He was tall. And lean. But you had the feeling that under those faun chino’s and pale blue polo shirt lurked solid muscles, especially when he briefly turned his back to you and you could see the way his pants tightened over his ass. Jeez, you could bounce a penny off it.

Relationship:Dark! Lloyd Hansen x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

CW: Meet-Ugly, Minor RTA, Minor Injury, Naive Reader, Explicit Sexual content, Oral Sex (F receiving), Vaginal Sex, Sting in the tale, Identity reveal, Knotting, Non-Con, Kidnap, Breeding kink, Monster fucking.

You were fifteen when you and your parents realised you had one of the legendary genes. Small animals suddenly lost their fear of you - at first following you and then climbing on you. The birds would sing with you and mammals would bring you things you needed but couldn’t reach, seemingly mind readers. That’s when Mom and Dad sat you down and really explained the world to you. You were a Princess.

At one point, genes like yours had been abundant in the population, an offshoot of those that could cause shifting, but like with your wolf and bear counterparts, the years had dwindled their prevalence. However, unlike them, you couldn’t physically transform (as much as your teenage self had hoped you could change your looks, weight and hair into something more aesthetically pleasing) but you did have strange skills that marked you as different. The animal thing was the main one, but your singing voice had improved overnight, and strangely, your crafting ability had gone from non-existent to May Morris levels. Also those with compatible genes, like the Prince gene found you very attractive and could pick you easily out of a crowd. Men who were Princes found themselves with enhanced hand-eye coordination and an affinity with dogs, horses and hunting birds. Unfortunately, such adroitness didn’t stop them from being absolute douche-bags.

“And then,” drawled Matthew, the latest Prince to invite you out on a date, “I spoke to his boss and got him fired. I mean, who did he think he was? Telling me I couldn’t park my car there, like I was some ‘normy’.” His pouty lips twisted up into a sneer that made him look as unattractive as he sounded.

Your own mouth twisted up, but into a facsimile of a smile, and you nodded noncommittally. You’d learnt the hard way that spurned Princes were not pleasant, and you were glad you’d insisted on meeting him here at a restaurant away from your normal stomping ground. Once you left, you could send him a brush off text and block him. He didn’t know where you lived and you weren’t reliant on him to get back there. You might be a Princess, but you were also a modern, independent woman.

Matthew talked about himself some more, and you feigned interest, making the right noises to keep his fragile ego intact, but inside you were counting down the minutes until you could bring this evening to an end. You weren’t even going to order dessert, because you’d decided you didn’t want to spend more time in his company than necessary. You were starting to lose hope that there were any good princes out there, because this was the fourth date you’d been on in as many months and all of them had been washouts, each Prince more interested in the sound of his own voice and waxing lyrical about his superiority than anything you had to say.

WIth your plates cleared and the check requested, Matthew didn’t really argue when you insisted on paying your share, probably because he was a tightwad. You said goodbye to him at the table, an awkward affair where you had to turn your head to direct his cool, wet kiss to your cheek and not your mouth, and then once he left you retrieved your holdall from the coat check. 

You ducked into the washroom to change, and came out in your bike leathers. Who needed to be able to ride a horse when you could sit astride something with multiple horse-power? You passed a moustachioed man going in the opposite direction, and let a smirk touch your lips as he did a double-take and almost walked into the door frame. That reaction never got old.

Outside, you stuffed your hold-all, now containing your dress, shoes and tiny purse, into one of the fixed panniers, before straddling your metallic steed. It was mere moments work to put your helmet and gloves on, before double checking your mirrors and starting the engine. It purred between your legs, powerful and mean, and with a kick to the stand and a twist of the accelerator, you were pulling away into the night.

You were happy to note that traffic was light. Crowded city streets often felt more dangerous than the freeway. Traffic jams made car drivers angry and careless, and you tended to avoid riding when it was rush hour if you could.

You pulled up at a stop light, glad this night was almost over and that you’d soon be able to change into your pajamas and settle down with a tub of B&J before hitting the hay. The light turned to green and you’d just slipped the clutch and started moving when it all happened.

A car - electric you guessed later from the lack of sound it made - came up behind you from further down the street, travelling at way over the speed limit. It didn’t move out wide to give you space, or slowdown, and as it passed, far too close, you flinched. Your knee-jerk reaction caused you to wobble atop your bike. You tried to correct it, but you were already too off-balance. 

It all happened so fast, but also in slow-motion at the same time, and you suddenly found yourself lying half on, half off the sidewalk, stars spinning in your vision. You breathed a sigh of relief at the fact you’d managed to kick away from your bike as you went over so you weren’t trapped under it, but regretted the instinctive movement as pain shot through your ribs. Yeah, some were definitely bruised, maybe even cracked, from the way you’d landed on the curb.

You pushed up, gingerly, onto your elbows and cursed as your head span and whiteness filled your vision. You didn’t have the time to deal with a concussion. However, a heartbeat later you realised that wasn’t your brain reacting, there actually were lights pointed at you. Your dazed brain finally registered the sound of a car engine and the world rushed back in.

There was a man on his knees next to you, an arm stretched out toward you as if to slow your journey back to upright.

“… you…quite…-mble…”

His voice was muffled by your helmet, although you were finding it hard to concentrate on what he was saying because your gaze was stuck on the thick, familiar-looking mustache sitting on his top lip. 

Ignoring his hand, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in your side, and removed your helmet.

“Not sure you should be doing that, Princess,” came the gruff rebuke.

You shot the man with a side-eyed glare. “I’m fine.” However, moving more in an attempt to get to your feet took your breath away and you immediately slumped back down. “Okay, maybe I’m not fine.”

“I’m gonna call an ambulance,” Moustache man stated. “You need to be checked out. I’ll call a tow company, as well. Get your bike looked over.”

Your brow furrowed and you did some mental math. If you shifted some money from one account to another, and put some of the cost on your credit card you might be able to afford it all. Stupid asshole driver.

Your rescuer seems to understand the reason for your sour expression. “Don’t worry that pretty head of yours. I’ve got cash to burn. Much prefer to let you have some than the IRS.” He gave you a wink and stepped back, dragging his phone from his back pocket and started to make his calls.

You couldn’t really argue, the state you were in. And you did agree that you probably needed to be checked over and have your bike assessed as well. So, with nothing really to do until the paramedics arrived, you watched as the man paced up and down, phone pressed to his ear.

He was tall. And lean. But you had the feeling that under those faun chino’s and pale blue polo shirt lurked solid muscles, especially when he briefly turned his back to you and you could see the way his pants tightened over his ass. Jeez, you could bounce a penny off it.

His hair was short, faded at the back and sides, and dirty blonde in colour, the same as his over the top moustache. As he talked, throwing glances your way, he gesticulated with his free hand. His fingers were long and tapered, and there was a ring decorating each knuckle. A man with money, and one who wasn’t afraid to flash it, either.

You finally looked over at his car, unsurprised to see a white Porsche. You giggled as you thought about how much he’d have to fold himself to get in and out of the thing, and then winced. Damn ribs.

Having ended his calls, he came back over and crouched down next to you. “How’re you doing, Princess? Only a few minutes and we’ll be getting you checked out.” His eyebrows gave a mischievous waggle and you couldn’t hold back a very un -ladylike snort, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

”Don’t make me laugh,” you wheezed. “And don’t call me ‘Princess’.”

”Why not? It’s what you are. Clocked you outside the bathroom back at the restaurant, and knew what you were almost immediately, even if it was your leathers that piqued my initial interest. You’re certainly a different sort of Princess.”

”That I am,” you confirmed. “And I don’t think I’ve ever met a Prince like you. But that explains the car, the jewellery, your demeanor.” You gesticulated up and down his body.

”Ouch,” he said with a smirk as he pulled a cigarette from a golden holder in his pocket. “You don’t pull any punches do you? I like it. And I can confirm that you’ve never met anyone like me, Princess. The name’s Lloyd.” He held his hand out towards you. “Lloyd Hansen, and I’m gonna change your world.”

Outside of paying for your medical bills and the repair of your bike, you hadn’t put much stock in what Lloyd had stated so confidently. However, here you were, at a restaurant far fancier than any you’d been to previously, and considering this was your third date with Lloyd, it seemed he knew how to keep upping the ante.

The first date you’d agreed to as a thank you. Your ribs had only been bruised and your co-pay had covered most of that, but your bike was another story. It had needed significant repairs to the paint work and the front wheel realigned. Lloyd wouldn’t hear of taking any of your money, but had asked if you’d mind joining him for a meal, just so he could assure himself that you were recovered.

That you could manage. Sitting through tedious meals with pompous Princes was your special skill after all, however you’d been pleasantly surprised.

First off, while Lloyd was firm in his interactions with servers, he didn’t command in a rude, entitled manner. In fact, he even smiled. And that same politeness extended to you as well, from little things like taking your coat and settling you in your chair, to actually asking you questions about yourself and listening to your replies. In fact, his only resemblance to the other Princes you’d met was how immaculately turned out he was, and you had to admit that the way the low light glinted off his chunky gold jewellery was quite pretty.

With your bike in the shop and your ribs still healing, your first date had ended without your traditional change into bike leather and with Lloyd standing with you outside the restaurant waiting for your cab. He hadn’t argued, or tried to cajole you into letting him drive you home, and you liked him all the more for it. And when the cab arrived and he opened the door for you, you found yourself standing up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek before ducking down inside. As it pulled away, you couldn’t help but look out the rear window and watch him standing at the curb until you turned a corner. All of this meant that when you received a text from him later in the week, asking if you’d like to join him for dinner again, you found yourself unable to say now. He definitely wasn’t like any Prince you’d met before.

This second date was just as enjoyable as the first and you even found yourself flirting a little, something you didn’t normally do. You stayed for dessert, laughing lowly with Lloyd as you fed each other bites of the sweet treats in front of you both, and even leaning across, your napkin in hand, to swipe a little bit of cream off those bristles.  This time, when he’d walked you outside to wait for your ride home, he kept your arm tucked in the crook of his, your body pulled close to his side, and you felt twitchy - nervous - but not in an unpleasant way, where you were looking for ways to escape, but more because there was a heat suffusing your body and a fluttering in your stomach. When he held the door for you, you went for broke, aiming your goodnight kiss onto his plump lips and discovering that his moustache wasn’t prickly like you’d imagined, but actually quite soft. 

You’d only lightly brushed your lips against his before stepping back, not wanting to come off as pushy or desperate, but before you could climb into the cab, Lloyds hand had reached out, cupped your cheek and drawn you back to him for a longer, deeper kiss, his tongue playing at the seam of your lips, although not moving between them. When he broke it, moving back to give you space, you’d felt a little dizzy, and found yourself pressing your fingertips to your mouth, as if you could transfer the tingling feeling to them.

”Until next time, Princess,” Lloyd had smirked affectionately, before lighting a cigarette and you hadn’t been able to stop your brain replaying that kiss for the next several hours. You swore you even dreamt about it that night.

The invitation for ‘next time’ came only two days later, and you didn’t hesitate, smiling to yourself like a teenager as you texted him back to accept. Giddy with excitement, you’d even agreed to let Lloyd pick you up, despite the fact that your bike was now as good as new. When he arrived on the sidewalk outside your small apartment you found out you’d been right about how he looked getting in and out of Porsche, but you’d managed to wrangle your giggle into just a knowing smile.

Now, sitting here, in this opulent restaurant, a string quartet playing and champagne on the table, you felt every inch a Princess of old, even if the Prince opposite you was somewhat unconventional in his appearance and demeanour. However, Lloyd was as attentive and charming as ever, smiling at you with eyes alight with humour and making sure you were happy and content. He turned the flirting up a notch, making you giggle and turn your head into your shoulder to avoid his too knowing gaze.

”You really are something else, Princess,” he said as he observed you over the rim of his wine glass. “Funny. Intelligent. Fiercely independent. And beautiful too, of course. No idea how someone hasn’t snapped you up already?”

You chuckled, lowly. “Have you met other Princes? Obnoxious isn’t the word. Present company accepted.”

Lloyd laughed along with you. “You’re not wrong. And I’m sorry to say, I probably have my moments. But not too many, I hope. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” His leg brushed against your’s under the table, the heat of it burning through his pant leg and your pantyhose. You didn’t move your leg away.

“You haven’t so far,” you teased, a smile curling your lips. “And if I’m something else, you’re other-worldly. You’re just so… so… hot!” You rested your elbow on the table, cupping your chin in your hand, regarding him just as hard as he was looking at you. It felt as though you were on the edge of something, fear of the unknown making adrenaline course through your veins. But it was a good fear, one that felt invigorating. Inviting. Did you dare to take the next step? His eyes bore into yours, deep and cerulean, waiting - waiting for your move.

Dragging your gaze from his, you took in the whole of him. His lean power. His muscled and no-doubt powerful arms. You knew what his ass looked like within his pants and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to grab hold of it, naked. You’d even become enamoured of that stupid moustache, fantasising after that kiss about how it would feel against other parts of your body.

It took all of your self control not to squirm in your seat as you once again met his eyes, your decision made.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Your back arched and your hands fisted the sheets as your body spasmed from the pleasure washing through it. 

It had been inevitable that you’d end up here. Both of you had known what you were offering with the question you’d asked. Lloyd’s expression had barely changed as you’d spoken, other than the raising of one eyebrow. He’d calmly requested the check, throwing a wad of cash, that probably vastly exceeded the cost of your meal, onto the table as soon as your waiter returned. Then, without one change to his normal, gentlemanly behaviour, he’d helped you out of your chair, into your coat and guided you out to his car.

“Where to, Princess?” You were glad he was asking you, seemingly not wanting to pressure you into something you didn’t want, but you’d made your decision. 

“Show me your place, Lloyd. I wanna see if it’s as amazing as I’ve imagined.”

He’d grinned at that, before putting the Porsche in gear and peeling away from the sidewalk. And if you’d thought his driving was fast, that was nothing compared to what happened once you finally got to his penthouse. As soon as the door had shut behind you, Lloyd had wrapped you in his arms and kissed you, passionately, and you’d answered in kind, as eager for what was to come as he apparently was.

You hadn’t even realised how he’d been steering you towards his bedroom until your knees hit the back of the mattress and you tumbled down onto it. Grinning devilishly, Lloyd had pulled his shirt off over his head, baring his smooth, tattooed chest and gold necklace. Your fingers itched to trace over every single line of ink, but he’d joined you on the bed a moment later, his body covering yours and kissing you once again as his hands slid between your legs and up under your skirt. Your pantyhose had only provided a momentary barrier, solved by Lloyd ripping them up the middle before pushing your underwear to the side so that he had unfettered access to your core.

He’d swallowed the whine you let out as he sunk two fingers into you, and you felt the coolness of his rings as they pressed against your heated flesh. His thumb had rubbed circles on your clit and you’d immediately began to twitch under him. Fuck. Had anyone ever gotten you this hot, this quick? When he’d dragged his lips from yours, it was to trail down your throat, your collarbone and then the swell of your breasts. Your dress had still covered the rest of you, but he’d by-passed it so that his mouth could join his fingers.

You’d like to say that the reason you’d been so noisy while he ate you was because you’d been secure in the knowledge that no-one else could hear, but that would have attributed you with more awareness than you’d actually had. Your world had narrowed, drastically, to only include the man feasting between your legs and how he was torturing your body with absolute bliss.

When your twitching subsided, and your moans had turned to ragged pants, Lloyd raised his head. “Fucking delicious, Princess.” His hand wiped over his moustache, which appeared to be soaked in your juices. Stepping back, he toe’d off his shoes, and you watched him lazily with hooded eyes as he pushed down his pants. It was hard to miss how his cock pressed against the inside of his black briefs, and your stomach flipped as you realised just how fucking big it was. He was back in an instant though, distracting you from your concern with more kisses and busy fingers that separated you from clothes at lightning speed.

“You ready to become mine, Princess?” He shimmied out of his underwear and you felt him land hot and heavy against your inner thigh.

“Please,” you whimpered, your body apparently desperate for him. You canted your hips so that his cock shifted to lay over your sodden folds. “I need you.” His own hips moved in return, slicking himself up on the mess that coated you. 

“Music to my ears.”

Lloyd’s hand moved between you, guiding himself into you, and as his thick length began its slow breach of your pussy, your eyes rolled back, a deep moan leaving your throat. “Oh, god!” He was going to split you apart. You were gonna die, but fuck what a way to go. You clasped his forearms, your nails curling into the taught muscle, as his hips moved gently back and forth to help carve out a space inside you for himself.

“So fucking tight, Princess. You’re gonna strangle my cock.” Lloyd let out his own groan as he finally bottomed out, letting his head hang for a moment as sucked in sharp breaths before meeting your gaze with his bright blue one. “I’m gonna fucking wreck you and you’re gonna love it.”

His hips snapped and you cried out at the sensation. Then he did again, and again, setting up a brutal pace that left you dizzy. Your vision went hazy only able to focus on the swirls of ink over his left pectoral, the creature adorning his skin almost looking alive as Lloyd flexed and moved above you.

“So fucking beautiful,” he mumbled out from above you. “Knew I had to have you, from the moment I saw you.” He changed the angle of his thrusts and fireworks exploded across your vision. “So good, the way you’re taking me, but I can’t wait to see your face when I give you even more.”

You tried to focus your gaze on his face but he must have been fucking you stupid, because it looked as though smoke were coming out of his mouth, but he never smoked around you, and there was no cigarette in the vicinity. It must be the lighting, you decided, especially as his skin was also now looking strange. You reached out your hand towards his neck, where he seemed to have a tattoo that you hadn’t noticed before, some kind of scales.

Just then, despite how full your pussy was already feeling, it seemed as though Lloyds cock swelled even bigger. You looked up at him, confused and in a bit of discomfort, and your breath caught in your throat.

“L-lloyd. What’s going on? Your eyes!” You were scared now, because instead of round, human pupils, his eyes now sported vertical slits. His grinned back down at you, predatory now, a look you didn’t recognise, and smoke curled out from between his lips. You tried to scrabble back, tried to get out from under him, but he clamped one be-ringed finger down on your shoulder, holding you in place as he continued to thrust and his cock continued to grow. 

“Stop!” You cried out. “Let me go.”

“Sorry, Princess. I can’t do that. Once I collect something it stays right here. Afraid it’s what I do.” His hips continued to move, his ardour not affected at all by your attempt to get away.

You beat your fists on his chest and tried to buck him off you, but it was as though his weight had increased along with all the other changes that seemed to be happening. It was as you were having that thought that clarity hit you. How could you have been so stupid? So naive?

“You lied to me! You’re not a Prince at all.”

“Aawwww, Princess,” he drawled, condescendingly. “I never said I was. You made the assumption and I didn’t bother to correct you. But Princes aren’t the only creatures that can spot a Princess. It was also laughingly easy to arrange our little meet-cute. A quick phonecall was all it took.” As he spoke, his body continued to alter - his fingernails growing and turning into talons, his flesh shifting into scales that glittered in the low lights. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll like living here with me. I have lots of pretty things in my hoard for you to look at, and, in time, you’ll be round and full of my babies. That’ll keep you occupied.” Another sharp thrust had you crying out again as the pain mingled with the pleasure he was still able to wring from your body. He nuzzled at your throat, a seemingly tender gesture at odds with the way he was fucking you. “And I can make it good for you, too. You’re going to love it when I knot you. Your cunt is going to spasm so hard and cream over me. Be good for me, Princess. Almost there. Almost…”

Each move his body made caused waves of sensations to flood yours, despite the fact you wished it wasn’t so, his ridged and scaled cock rubbing you oh-so-right, even as tears of fear fell from your eyes. Lloyds tongue snuck out from between his lips, longer now and forked, and lapped them up. You sobbed as you felt your orgasm approaching. You didn’t want it, didn’t want Lloyd to have the satisfaction, but it wouldn’t be denied.

The monster above you roared into his climax, his throat glowing as if lit up from the inside by fire, and as his knot popped, locking him into you, you screamed through your own eye-watering pleasure. Your combined cries echoed in your ears as your vision started to turn black, and as you let yourself sink into the escape of unconsciousness you wondered if you’d ever escape the dragon’s clutches.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions,

@nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318, @blackhawkfanatic, @scram1326,

@steviebbboi @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989,

@kombatfather1796 and because you seemed interested, @chrissymbod

[yeloenk]

i want to apologize more formally for answering the anon who gave me a false list of proshippers.

ever since making a post asking proshippers to please block me (i had some who were following me), people have been anonymously sending me some lists of proshippers/controversial people in the UTMV fandom.

i have answered a few, but only those that were calling out proshippers that have actually confirmed to be proshippers.

when i received this ask in particular, i just saw someone giving me a list with no ill-intent behind it. so, without giving much thought, i replied to the ask.

my intention with this was to let others know who to block/avoid; not to harass, witch-hunt, etc. i am aware that these kinds of lists can encourage this behavior, which i take responsibility for. i genuinely apologize for using my platform in this way—even if it was done unintentionally, it was still wrong of me to do.

this being said, i do NOT stand for harassment in any way, shape, or form. even if it is directed towards proshippers, that is no way to solve the real issue. proshippers need help, they do not need more reason to need help. purposefully going out of your way to stalk, bully, send threats, or ANYTHING of that nature is wrong.

i made my first apology in a panicked rush, once i saw people telling me that the anon was spreading misinformation. however, in that blog, i did not acknowledge how my actions could have harmed people listed (especially ones who were listed falsely).

if you were affected in any way by my response to this anon, i apologize personally to you. please know this was not my intent: even if you are a proshipper, my only thoughts regarding that ask was "hey! cool, a free blocklist."

everyone is human, and nobody should be treated this way. although i think proshippers are morally wrong, and need help/therapy, they are still real people behind the screen. real people affected by your actions: mine included. the best thing you can do in the situation of seeing a proshipper is blocking them instead of instigating interaction.

i will no longer be doing anything like this again now that i am taking into consideration that some people are using these lists as witch-hunt lists. i should have checked all of the names before replying, especially since the list included no proof whatsoever. in the future, i do promise to be mindful and very cautious when addressing topics like these, especially when it comes to checking facts.

i do hope i can be forgiven, but i understand if not. i understand my actions have consequences, and i understand i was in the wrong taking a hand in spreading false information and encouraging harassment.

the purpose of this apology is to acknowledge what i did wrong, learn from it, and move on. and, to clear up why i replied to the list. keep in mind that it is not an excuse for my actions, but a reason for them. i still made the choice to answer this ask and not at least clarify to block them instead of harassing them.

to the anon who sent that ask: do not spread false information, please. it only hurts those who are involved, nothing good comes out of it for either side.

one more thing i wish to add:

to the grown adults sending me asks, insulting me: what is wrong with you? i am a 16 year old. i am going to make mistakes. it's a part of life, a part of learning. if you seriously think you're doing good by being nasty to a kid on tumblr because of a stupid choice they made, you further strengthen my belief that proshippers need help.

there's also been people just blatantly insulting things about me that are unrelated to the situation as a whole? my art, for example. please stop.

i don't want my blog to be focused on drama, so i'm not going to post much at all about stuff like proshippers anymore. i'll probably just be sharing art for the most part.

[viperbunnies]

It's officially New years for me here! I am not the best at words, but I'm thankful for the support that I've received for the short amount of time that I've started posting art more often.

What started off as me wanting to just Archive some art I'm proud of snowballed to so many memories that I'll look back fondly to, so many silly ideas that breached containment that I remember seeing people do (Like the draw your oc reacting to their fave card that me and addie just talked about as a joke, and the Shroompocalypse that was just meant to be an Jade stealing people's yume joke)

I'm glad that I met so many amazing people and discovered new artists on this site! With that said I want to drop a few words of thanks to some of the amazing people that I've met here <3

Firstly, thank you to @oya-oya-okay being my first ever follower and mutual! If it weren't for you sharing my art I wouldn't be able to meet so many of my moots, your words of encouragement means a lot to me (and to other people that you also support!) I wish you well in life!

Thank you to @natsukishinomiyaswife ! If it weren't for you reaching out to me back then I probably would've continued lurking. You're a dear friend to me and I enjoy our random talks! May it be about life, or our own interests 💕 I hope the new year treats you kindly.

Thank you to @justm3di0cr3 ! For giving me so many ideas (some I've yet to finish...) and for listening to me whatever the topic maybe. I'm thankful that I met you! You're such a considerate person, always checking in on me whenever I feel down. If something's bugging you, I'm always all ears!

Thank you to @scint1llat3 , your overwhelming support has helped me so much. It's always fun seeing your currynoodles, and just your art in general. But it's just as fun just reading your thoughts! Your comments/tags are always so fun to read 😭 I hope you never get tired doing what you love! Labyu lodicakes (/p) kain ka ng madaming pansit sa new years for long life

Thank you to @jovieinramshackle ! I remember feeling so scared due to some inevitable changes, but seeing your general words of encouragement during that time helped me so much. Wishing you the best on your journey as well!

Thank you to @fell-e ! Your keysmashes and memes are so fun to see 😭 Genuinely need to know how you make them so quickly. Thank you as well for being my earliest supporters, I probably would've been burnt out so quickly if you didn't show genuine interest in my arts.

Thank you to @part-sadist ! For the laughs that you give me from your silly sketches, and for acknowledging some of my ideas. You've contributed so much ideas to my to do list as well, to the point that I don't think I'm gonna run out of any drawing prompts any time soon (They just need to give me the time already...)

Thank you to @taruruchi ! for being one of my earliest supporters, it's just so nice to see someone with similar interests as me! I still have so many Oz and Taru interactions that I want to make, so I hope you look forward to them hehe.

Thank you to @jadelover69 (i miss your old name /j) Thank you as well for your overwhelming support! I love seeing the things you rb on my tl, may it be twst or different fandoms you're interested in. They help lighten up my mood whenever I need it!

Thank you to @the-travelling-witch ! We haven't been mutuals for long, but you've always been so supportive of me! Thank you for showing genuine interests in my ocs! And for sharing me rambles about yours as well! If you ever get any new ideas, I'd love to hear them :> (Probably not asap due to Timezones and schedules, but of course I'll get to you soon!)

Thank you to my friend (alias Melone) If you see this I hope you know that I'm thankful that you pushed me to draw more. You'll always be my no. 1 hypeman, and I wish we can spend more time together soon. 2024 really is cursed-- our annual meetup didn't happen 😔 I hope we can meet soon! I still need to give you my gifts from your birthday.

If I could add everyone I've met here I genuinely would 😭 I love all of my moots/supporters /p.

Honestly I feel like I'm more cynical qnd negative irl... due to many reasons, but perhaps it's due to the people that I've met here that I'e had such a positive influence, which I'm honestly so thankful for. It's helped a lot with my personal struggles.

If you've made it this far, I hope you know that life gets better. A struggle today, doesn't determine the wind's path tomorrow. Wishing you all Happy new years! I hope that this coming year will be kind to us as all ^^