#i had so much fun doing these not as much time unfortunately 🥲

[pepa-is-drawing]

6/6: Sigma and Σ

[larcenywrites]

All About Fur!

Nightcrawler HCs

I have lots of thoughts about lots of things, and Nightcrawler’s fur is one of them! So I had to get a few things out of my brain 💙 Some x reader stuff in here too ;)

Warnings: a few sexual references | a few fluffy (no pun intended) references | no pronouns or specifications on reader obvi

⚜️Unfortunately, he doesn’t get any fluffier, much to your dismay 😔 a fluffy winter coat would have been cute, after all!

⚜️But even that short fur does get thicker and longer in certain places on the daily 😏 you may notice his jawline is a bit shaggy by the end of a lazy weekend 🤭 that there’s more fur on his chest when you run your fingers through it 🥺 his belly and a line above and below is belly button gets fluffy and curly if he lets it 🥺🥺

⚜️Even if you’ve typically preferred your past partners more… clean-shaven or well-trimmed down there, you surely can’t have any issues with his fluffier crotch and thighs 🥰 the saving grace here is that all of his fur is velvety soft 😌

⚜️Now, while it doesn’t grow any longer outside of those places, he is naturally shaggier in some other areas!

⚜️His forearms are a bit more furry than his upper arms

⚜️The backs of his thighs and his little booty have longer, curled fur 🥰🥰🥰

⚜️Rub a balloon on him and watch it stick :)

⚜️Bathing with him is fun because you get to play with his fur! Run your fingers through it! This is a feature, not a bug!!

⚜️Except now he’s more like a soggy kitten 🥺 a happy one at least!

⚜️The tail is surprisingly not just, like, skin! It is fuzzy! The fur there is very very short and fine, but still soft and fuzzy! It kinda feels like one of those lamb’s ear plants! Or peach fuzz!!

⚜️But the tip isn’t covered in fur 😔 just like the bottoms of his hands and feet!

⚜️He says belly rubs are degrading, but he likes them 😘 especially when that fur on his chest and belly hasn’t been trimmed in a while, he’ll absolutely stretch out and let you run your fingers through it during late morning cuddles 🥰

⚜️Don’t be afraid to pay extra attention to his quasi-beard, too 😉 it’s not the same as pubic hair on a human! It’s just as soft as the rest of him!

⚜️And for better or for worse, you won’t have to worry very much about beard burn, at least!

⚜️He really doesn’t mind being petted anywhere and everywhere— so long as you do, in fact, have a close and/or (preferably) more intimate relationship!

⚜️Though, if all your past partners have been more on the human-presenting side, you’ll have to get used to always getting a mouthful of fur whenever you want to kiss his cheek or affectionately bite his arm 😅

⚜️This also makes it a little more difficult to do body shots tbh 😔 not to mention trying to get any sticky wine out of that fur later 🤧

⚜️Among other sticky things 🤭

⚜️And when you’re trying to be sexy and trying to lick him down from neck to abs 😔

⚜️But!! At least he’s all soft and cuddly :)

⚜️You’ll probably literally be rubbing your cheek against his like some kind of cartoon couple! You can’t help it that he’s so snuggly 🥰

⚜️But it’s gonna get very warm under the covers— and not just because he’s getting frisky 🥲 sorry if you get hot easily!

⚜️Also sorry if you're ticklish 🥺 he’s probably trying to be very sexy and romantic by kissing down your stomach all slow and teasingly 😏 but those fuzzy cheeks are probably going to have you giggling and squirming away from him instead 😅 it’s okay, he’ll work with it 😘

⚜️His tail is also a major offender of this! Sometimes, he does it on purpose, but other times, he’s genuinely trying to be sexy when he wraps his tail around your thigh or waist, but it’s so fuzzy! It tickles!

⚜️And that’s okay, too :) he does love making you laugh 🥰

⚜️But there’s another disadvantage… sweat and fur don’t mix— there’s a reason dogs and cats don’t sweat!

⚜️Bandaids and fur also don’t mix 😬 but hey, it’s a lot more intimate wrapping medical tape around his arm or whatever 😏

⚜️And no! He won’t get fleas 😤

[ynscrazylife]

You know what I really miss? Avengers x teen!reader headcanons, there use to be so much avengers content and practically dominated tumblr🥲

It would totally make my WEEK if you would make some classic mcu avengers(before infinity war) x teen!reader x Peter Parker(romantic) headcanons just about reader having powers and what it’s like living with the avengers 💕

-possible your new 👾anon?

let’s do this 💪 and YES you’ll be my first emoji anon!! @ anyone else, feel free to claim ur emoji!!

avengers x teen!reader headcanons

The Avengers are definitely reluctant to add another teenager to the team. Having Peter is great but has been a big adjustment, as they had to train him and protect him, less they face the wrath of Aunt May.

However, you were a compelling case, with your extensive abilities. You didn’t have many other options as to where to go and you hit it off with Peter right off the bat, working very well together as a pair. So, they took you in.

Tony worked with you on designs for your suit, Natasha and Steve trained you in combat (which meant you were going on morning runs with Steve and Sam. How fun . . . Though Sam could be convinced to give you piggy back rides, and you became Clint’s personal arrow-picker-upper. If you had powers, Wanda would definitely help you manage them.

Peter was naturally in tune to science, which meant you hung around the lab with him and Bruce a lot. It became a nice time to get your homework done, as Bruce would definitely help you with that. Sometimes you acted as Bruce’s and Peter’s assistant with their experiments.

Bruce was also a very good listener and your go-to person to vent to about your life’s problems (when Peter wasn’t around).

One of the conditions to be on the team was that you didn’t lapse in schoolwork, so they were very on top of that and your grades. Tony even offered to go to parent-teacher meetings. Any one of them were ready to go to your teachers or principal if anything happened.

Natasha would routinely check in with you to make sure that you weren’t being bullied.

Pepper also became a motherly figure, as she cared very much about you and Peter. She’d offer you a Stark Industries internship.

Movie nights were chaotic, but absolutely the best. It was hard for anyone to agree, so the team had a system where they’d rotate who got to pick the meeting. Sam and Peter were also not allowed to make popcorn after many unfortunate incidents. Most of the time you fell asleep late into the night and one of the Avengers carried you to bed (they’d never admit this, but that also became an argument).

It was during a movie night when Peter realized he liked you romantically. You fell asleep during a movie, your head on his shoulder. Peter swore he never experienced something so precious before. He was adamant to keep your peace, glaring at anyone who dared to talk.

The team found your growing romance to be adorable and often teased the two of you about it. The only people who didn’t tease you were Bruce, Pepper, and Thor (because he didn’t really understand how to effectively tease).

If Flash messed with you, Peter was always on top of it. He’d always protect you.

Steve was also always making sure that you knew right from wrong. He’d give long speeches about how it wasn’t right to smoke, drink, do drugs, etc.

Then Thor gave you Asgardian alcohol once, not realizing how bad that was considering you’re both human and underage. That was a mess. Peter having to hold your hair back when you vomited and multiple Avengers escorting you to bed. Thor got an earful about it.

Clint was one of the ones who better understood you, seeing as he had experience with his own kids. He was always good at mediating and defusing the tension.

Laura also adored you, you were her favorite babysitter for the kids. Whenever they went on date night, they’d drop the kids off at the tower, and you would watch them (Peter would help when he wasn’t on patrol).

Patrolling with Peter was also very fun. More often than not he’d convince you to take a break, then swing you up on top of a roof to watch over the city and the sky.

On multiple occasions, KAREN would rat the two of you out to Tony, but he was never mad. He just wanted to know all about the “date”.

Prom was also very fun. Honestly, the whole team would want to come pick out outfits with you and Peter. They took many, many pictures on the night of. Peter also teared up when he saw you. He thought you were stunning.

Of course, you guys had a curfew, but it was alright. You and Peter had a fantastic night. All he wanted to do was dance and hold you.

You had Happy wrapped around your finger. You could really convince him to drive you anywhere you wanted to go.

You also managed to get an internship at the Sanctum Santorum, learning more about magic under Doctor Strange and Wong’s guidance. The Avengers weren’t particularly thrilled, as they were worried about you being hurt, but understood your want to explore.

You really wanted to see all the areas of being a hero. Clint taught you archery and Natasha taught you how to be a spy. You’d listen to Natasha and Clint’s spy stories for hours. Peter would have to pry you away.

Peter always insisted on having date nights and would go all out, making every date special. He’d do anything to make you happy.

And so would all the Avengers. They loved seeing you smile, it brightened up their whole world and made the team stronger.

[elitadream]

Hi guys~! ⛅👋

Long time no see! Much longer than I ever intended, in fact. Truth be told, I wanted to make a public post sooner, but I've had a lot to catch up on in terms of notifications and messages since logging back in a few days ago. I've also made some changes that I will address shortly, but first of all I wanted to thank those of you who have reached out with so much care and understanding during my absence. Adjusting has been a slow and fragile process for me -still is-, and I sadly haven't responded directly to everyone yet because of it, but I wanted to say how much I appreciate your patience and support nonetheless. 🥹 🙏

Long story short, I was gone for five months due to a huge burnout, then progressively found my spark again somewhere along the way and have since mostly recovered. It was my wonderful friend @drones-of-innocence who reached out to me outside of Tumblr, and her sense of initiative is largely the reason why I managed to make this post in a somewhat reasonable delay. 😅💖 With that said however, I must also mention that I've deleted a lot of stuff from my page and have removed most of my work from the public eye as well. This may seem quite drastic and frankly a little unsettling, but I assure you that it was a thoroughly considered and reasoned decision! The thing is that I was still getting lots of notes on these drawings everyday and… To put it simply, I didn't want that anymore. 🙇‍♀️ Experiencing popularity was very detrimental to me in the long run and I needed to put an end to it for the sake of my own wellbeing; at least for now.

Which brings me to my next point.

After mulling it over for a while, I've decided that I would not be returning as an active creator in the Mario community this time around. 👐 Making fanart for this franchise (with such a high and continuously maintained degree of involvement) had a lot to do with my health's decline and I've come to realize that I wanted to direct my focus elsewhere going forward. For that reason, there are things which I know will never be repeated again in the future, both in regards to my art and online presence in general, but that's alright. Things change, as they do and should. I'm looking forward to reuniting with folks and would be very happy to stay in touch with those of you who wish to message me privately. Like my lovely pal @istadris said, what matters most about any fandom are the friends you make in it. ☺️

And speaking of which-

@ody-and-fanatu That's so sweet of you, thank you! 💗 I'm glad you've enjoyed my contribution to the fandom. It was fun while it lasted! 💫 My visual ideas may be gone from my page, but most of my written posts and replies are still there for anyone who wants to revisit those at least, so there's that! And I'd also like to answer some of the asks I still have in my inbox at some point. Knowing that you hold my art in such high regard makes really happy! 🥰 Unfortunately, the other account that I have is reserved for my professional work and I prefer to keep them separate from one other, but the good thing is that I intend to go back to this blog occasionally. Hoping to see you around! Cheers! 🥂

@heiressofdoodles Thanks, I appreciate that! ✨ I'm honestly doing much better than I was earlier this Spring. Back then, I was running on empty and on the verge of crashing without even knowing it. Being in constant physical pain was one thing, but feeling mentally and emotionally drained on a daily basis was another entirely, and something had to be done. It took me a moment to really figure out what was wrong, but thankfully I realized very quickly what was causing it and applied the breaks with all my might. One of my main priorities now is to be more alert and respect my own boundaries to make sure that this never happens again. 🥲

@keakruiser Thank you. 🙏💐 I'm just glad to have found my footing again. Feels good to be able to create freely.^^ Hope you're doing well too!

Special thanks also to @pianokantzart, @jelly-fish-wishes, @katlyntheartist, @triniji and @wahooitsamee for their kind words. 🫂 Your graciousness and consideration means a lot to me. 💝

As for all the nice people who sent me anon comments and well wishes, I tried to summarize my thoughts as best I could in this update, but if there's anything else you'd like to say or know, don't hesitate to ask me anytime! Now that I feel like myself again, I think I'm gonna hang out on Tumblr for a little bit. I'll be excited to see what you guys have been up to in the meantime! 🤗 Wishing you all a very good day and pleasant Fall. 🍂

-elita 🌸

[tender-rosiey]

loud and clear — gojo satoru x gn!reader

a/n: @xhamper I hope this is up to your liking! I couldn’t find the request in the inbox 🥲

as a high school student in jujutsu tech, you have learned to take any chance to sleep.

however, said sleep of tonight is, unfortunately, disturbed by something.

trying to ignore the noise, you turn groggily in your sleep. the ruckus doesn’t pipe down; you toss and turn. finally, done with everything, you slowly open your eyes, “what the…”

you concentrate and you hear a song playing. albeit a bit muffled, it’s still pretty loud.

perhaps your neighbors are having a party again? but they just had one yesterday; in addition, the sound is pretty close to you unlike before.

when you finally get up, you head towards the window and you’re met with something you would’ve never expected.

you see nanami, geto and haibara dancing: nanami is frowning and his dancing is as stiff as the tree beside him, geto is smiling but he also just looks defeated and helpless, and haibara is having fun and making the most out of it.

it’s a sight to behold and you want to scurry and get a camera, but the rest of the scene catches your attention.

you also see dj shoko, who looks like she is about to commit a murder, frowning and holding the speakers behind the boys as they do their ‘part’.

lastly, there is gojo, your crush, holding a mic and obnoxiously singing golden hour, “it’s yoUR GOLDEN HOOOOOOUR!”

he is really into it, knees on the ground, clutching his chest, and everything, “YOU SLOW DOWN TIMEEEEEEEEEE—!”

so it’s no surprise when your very kind neighbor throws a bag of cashews at him.

“GET YOUR TEENAGE ROMANCE OUT OF HERE! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!”

and it is also no surprise when he yells back, but you don’t expect his response, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH CONFESSING MY LOVE, YOU CRANKY OLD LADY?!”

geto tries to hold him back, “satoru, let’s not create a bigger scene than this, yaga will have our heads—“

satoru shakes him off and looks at you, determined and with a very annoying smirk on his face. he walks to his bag and gets out a megaphone.

he holds it up and once again surprises you, “I!LOVE!YOU!Y/N!”

“I LOVE HOW MESSY YOUR HAIR CAN BE IN THE MORNING!

I LOVE HOW CRANKY YOU GET WHEN YOU DON’T GET YOUR SNACKS!

I LOVE THE WAY YOU SMILE AND ROLL YOUR EYES AT MY JOKES!

I LOVE WATCHING YOU FIGHT CAUSE YOU LOOK SO SEXY!

AND YOU LOOK SO HOT WHEN YOU’RE ANGRY!

DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, SWEETS?!”

he is panting, by the time he finishes his rant. you know he is waiting for a response, but in your shocked state you cant get anything out except, “what?”

shoko snaps, “OH HELL NO! WE’RE NOT REPEATING THIS AGAIN! Y/N GET YOUR ASS DOWN!”

you nod hurriedly and run down the stairs. the moment you open the door, shoko pulls your arm and pushes you on satoru, who holds you up easily and whispers a small ‘hey’ with a smile.

geto pats shoko’s back and takes over, “so y/n, satoru likes you as you may have guessed by now.”

satoru, glaring at him, corrects him, “love! not like, thank you very much!”

you intertwine your fingers and it flusters him, but you don’t notice—geto does, however, and satoru is one second away from mixing colors.

nanami walks up to you guys, “and y/n obviously likes you back.”

finally haibara runs, smiling and excited, “now kiss!”

you laugh, “as if we would do that in front of you guys—“

the words die in your throat as satoru connects your lips gently. his hand is settled on your cheek and his other is pulling you closer by the waist.

shoko’s gagging, nanami’s groaning, haibrara’s clapping, and geto’s nodding proudly.

with all of that, you can only focus on the guy in front of you who pulls away with a cheeky smile, “that was nice, no?”

you mutter weakly, “s-shut up.”

he laughs and leans into your ear, “do you want to dance to the song?”

another bag of cashews is thrown on your—now—boyfriend’s head, “ YOU CAN DANCE TO THE SONG IN YOUR MOM’S—“

a kind neighbor indeed.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will send the kind neighbor after yo ass

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[aclowntiny]

Black Flag, Black Hearts? Falling for Pirate!Ateez (Meeting Pirate!Ateez Part 2- Female Reader)

One (1) request for part 2 was all it was going to take to continue one of my favorite pieces hehe… but I got 2 🥲🥹 hope y’all enjoy this one too! 🏴‍☠️ plenty more where this AU came from 😉

Warnings: suggestive content, a little more gun mention this time, some violence, blood, death implication

☠Hongjoong☠

As breath returned to your body and pain subsided, you were held to no debt. Should have known, really, that the thieves robbing thieves sought not to use a life as a transaction. Legend had gotten the best of you once and you dared not repeat that.

For your own honor, honor far beyond that of the so-called law, it seemed fit for a thanks, though. Fit for some token of gratitude immeasurable, for how does one quantify life? Your tavern was ash beside, so what tether had you to the land? No job, no marriage, not even a debt to escape. Much as you might miss a few polite regulars, it was likely you could disappear unnoticed.

And disappear you did, shoving off with the Eightfold as the new cook. One of the others bore the mantel for some time, bid you share it with him for his own joy, but their captain insisted you were far better suited for it. From what you knew of men, that could easily prove true.

Bringing a woman aboard, necessity though it may have been, proved great fun for the raucous middle-mates, as you called them. Not the youngest, not the eldest, just dreadfully, wonderfully boisterous people the likes of whom always got feet stomping back in the tavern.

And stomp feet they did, insisting you must dance with them after so long a drought of partners to reel or otherwise with atop the waves. You were earning your sea legs, wondering if you might have a tilt akin to theirs at your next port stop, so why not challenge yourself with a dance or three?

Skirts in hand, you circled Mingi, who had laughingly unbuckled his pistol belt at your wary glance. Too many a shot had drunkenly or exuberantly fired into a floorboard or a foot for you not to. The tall gunslinger danced like Old Man Jo's hound dog, unaware of strength that could bowl a woman over, but far too kind to wish that. The pair of you laughed a lot before you were handed off to San, who took you gently by the hands and spun you with delicate care, reminding you more of the sweet childhood cat that used to curl at your side whenever you took ill or cried. What a whirlwind before you, nearly a stitch in your chest, got passed to Wooyoung, who found a nice middle ground between push-and-pull and treating you like glass, but coupled with the unfortunate side effect of being a little handsier than necessary, his grip sliding lower on your hip.

And that, that was when you saw it. Like a shadow, a falcon poised for an elegant, precise swoop, your dance partner's Captain stood glaring, stare intense as every wanted poster that had crossed your path made it out to be. Spine tingling as it was wont to do at that look, you found your attention transfixed upon Hongjoong as he strode up to Wooyoung, authority resounding in each strike of his boots. Wooyoung smiled, somehow half proudly and half sheepishly, a wave crashed, and still glaring Hongjoong gave a jerk of his head and a few quiet words that had his junior scurrying off.

Then he was before you, entire affect altered, face a sole mask of concern. It was as if you peered into completely different eyes. "I told him not to touch you like that," he told you, voice dark only as you'd heard once before, just on that fateful night you thought you'd met your end, "he shouldn't dare."

Serious as the captain sounded, you couldn't help smiling. "Thank you. Don't be too hard on him, though, I've dealt with worse. Think he just forgot himself. Why don't you show him how it's done, then?"

That earned you a slightly cocky grin, that satisfied look you frankly couldn't get enough of. "With pleasure. May I, then?”

His hands hovered until you nodded, then one took yours and the other held your waist, this time far more proper than his predecessor’s hold. You had nothing to compare this dance to, no parallel of memory to the way Hongjoong made you feel.

“This moonlight becomes you,” he remarked quietly, “becomes you far more than galley lamps. You are our Diana then.”

Goddess of the moon. The moon which did hang like a great wide monocular gaze over your dance, the way your hand reflexively tightened over Hongjoong’s shoulder at the return of his honeyed words. “You think so highly of me?” Was all you could ask, surprisement coloring your face and tone alike.

“Suppose I need to get better at showing it,” Hongjoong joked in response, but something stirred in his gaze that confirmed it better than words.

Since that night, Hongjoong spent more time than ever in the galley, playing guessing games with you about your destination and playfully rolling his eyes when you made the man stop and eat something for once.

“What can I say,” you shot back at his teasing smile, “I’m trying to get better at showing it, too.”

☠Seonghwa☠

Your sack was as full of little trinkets-and even a bit of new clothing-as your heart was apprehension. Every thud of your soles upon the planks of the dock, then the ship, echoed beats of your heart. Live on as you may, nothing could have properly prepared you that morning for the fact that there was no return to your old life, that a gentleman claiming to be a pirate would whisk you away to his ship.

Upon setting foot upon the deck, Seonghwa undid your handkerchief, revealing his handsome face as he handed it back, and clapped a hand to the shoulder of another man, this one tall, smiling, and a bit fair.

Said man nodded your way, shocking you with as friendly a smile as you had ever seen. “And who might this be?”

“My name,” you answered, internally cursing the small voice such apprehension had produced, “is (y/n). I took interest in your First Mate’s cartography.”

“She has an interest in all the arts, it seems,” Seonghwa added, a touch of pride coloring his voice, “I saw the way she admired weaving, blown glass…”

The other man tilted his head, still smiling. “Oh, really? Well, have you any skills in its study along with your valuation our captain will take quite a liking to you.” So the ship did not belong to him.

You swallowed, shuffling a bit forward from Seonghwa’s side, feeling the sudden absence of warmth there. “Are you art thieves, then?”

“In a manner of speaking,” another voice rang at your back, several bootfalls following it.

Turning on your heels, skirts swirling about your feet, you were faced with the intense gaze and proud smile of a man in a long, billowing black jacket, a gold pin shining upon its lapel. The designs on his waistcoat were intricate yet sharp, clearly hand-painted. Perhaps he’d stolen that too.

“For what does my First Mate bring you here?” Imposing words, yet with a tone clearly meant to put you at ease.

“For my love of the arts, it seems,” you replied, trying your best to look the man you took to be Captain in the eyes, “my question stands if it may: are you art thieves?”

The captain’s hand fully left his side, dropping your heart at the realization he likely concealed a blade there. “Have you heard what happened to the Egyptians? Their craftsmanship scooped up to line the halls of the rich. The great monarchs of the world with their hoards of untouched advancement? Creations returned to their creators. Wealth in the hands of the poor. Do you call that an art thief?” He looked quite satisfied at the dropping of your jaw.

“I call that right. The- the authorities say you kill and pillage.”

“Of course they do,” Seonghwa chimed in with a snort, “they want you to turn us in, do they not? I beg your pardon, ma’am, but you see why I say stories are to be doubted.”

“I do,” you nodded, “but I am no thief, just an admirer.”

“Could you identify a fake if you laid eyes upon it?”

“A counterfeit?”

“I suppose I could try. My art education is not exactly extensive, but if I cannot return home, at least I can continue it still.”

“Then it is settled. Excellent recruit, Seonghwa,” the Captain said, “go make sure she is comfortable.”

~

“You have so many wonderful things, Seonghwa. Are they gifts?”

The First Mate had led you down a hatch, down a set of stairs into a cozy little wood space that reminded you faintly of a hayloft. There was a bed already, a mattress draped with a quilt bearing some traditional pattern you didn’t quite recognize, likely a gift from travels prior. He helped you set your assortment of glass animals upon the claw-footed chest-of-drawers that sat against the wall across from the bed, even dusting off the looking glass for you. You’d remarked that it was a nice room-a lamp was already set upon the nightstand and a painting on the wall- but a mite lonely, so Seonghwa showed you his quarters across the hall. Jointed figures of wood covered one dresser, several ships in bottles resting in various places upon his bookshelf.

“Some of them, yes. The fine carvings are gifts, the cruder ones my own attempts,” he chuckled, “assembling a ship in a bottle is about all I’m good for.”

“And how does one do that?” You asked.

He’d sat you down on one side of a little table, his seat shuffled right at your side. Bits and pieces of tiny masts and sails were scattered about. You saw a tiny wheel, the smallest seagulls you’d ever laid eyes upon, all resting upon the finely stained wood. Picking up a pair of very long, thin tools, Seonghwa slid the bottle closer between you. “Very carefully.”

His smile made you smile, leaning in to watch him assemble it all. He named every piece of the ship, taught you which was port and starboard, pointed out the carven mermaid figurehead of the ship. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Look closer. She looks a lot like you.”

Your lips parted, failing to form words as heat crept across your cheeks. Suddenly you were quite thankful for the oil lamp’s safe distance from all the wooden bits and bobs. The legends certainly were lies, for never had you felt more comfortable, any safer, than at the table of a pirate.

☠Yunho☠

"Another round, then, on me!" One of the Eight, the one who seemed most worthy of being Captain beside the man in the gold pin himself, called out to the almost creakingly full table, raising his tankard heartily.

"I believe you mean on me, Jongho," you replied, plucking the intricately filigreed mug from his hand and grabbing his neighbor San's too, turning the smooth fired rim in your hand.

Some months ago your inherited estate had been a dull, lonely cave of finery, joy of almost every dress and other beautiful thing you had inherited gone at the loss of family and company that had befallen you alongside it. What care had you for silken curtains hanging in a parlor no one sat in or a grand piano with no audience? Indeed, the sea was your greatest companion, solitude drowned out by whistling wind, crashing waves, and the sensation of feet upon sand. Such forces of nature offered much greater solace from your thoughts than anything of mankind, yet utterly void of their touch.

Now those once-consuming thoughts were but a laughable memory. Raucous song filled your parlor and kegs of ale your cellar lest the Eightfold arrive after a drop at their hollow on your beach, filling their cave with yet another chest of gold and stolen riches before making their way to you, presenting you with beachside finds and the odd gifted artifact, often a figurine for your many surfaces and shadowboxes.

"You're wearing a new dress every time we see you," another pirate, this one by the name of Wooyoung, remarked.

"I was given so many," you replied from your countertop, shrugging as you filled the two mugs.

"And jewelry, no doubt."

"Why," you shot back, reentering the dining room with a careful grip upon the now foam-topped vessels, dodging a flying arm punch between pirates, "do you plan to rob me after all this time?"

"No, I was just wondering why with all you've got you wear those silly shells about your wrist every single day."

As you laid your cargo down your eyes instinctively fell to the string of small orange shells Yunho had made you the day you met, then flicked to the pirate himself. "Perhaps it is important to me," you replied, nose in the air and heart in your throat.

Clearing some plates off the table and straightening the lace runner was supposed to distract you, but of their own accord your eyes fell to Yunho, whose gaze rested solely upon you. Hurrying, you shuffled to the kitchen, setting the plates aside the basin with the rest.

When all was said and done for your meal, you returned to the parlor for song, caring not for whatever sand tracked into the flowered carpet. You could clean. Passing through the doorway, you heard the voices of the young men squabbling over whose turn at the piano it was.

"Let me, please, I've a good one," you heard Yunho request, voice a soft plea to the others' raised bickers, "and I believe I still owe our hostess, all things considered."

"He is right, you know," you chimed in from your lean upon the threshold, arms crossed, “did he tell you the tale?”

"Ha!" Taking the bench and apparently ignoring the nature of the tale, which involved his blade upon your throat, Yunho swatted the two men on either side of him upon the head with the backs of his hands and began to play.

No shock was it for a man with hands like that to be adept at playing the piano. Nor the sweetness of his voice, the likes of which you'd been graced with prior, even if it was chorusing a shanty. The words he sang, however, raised brows.

From a sailor's perspective, the whole of it was a lament of missing a woman while upon the sea, and missing her dearly. Yunho charmed the keys and poured out genuine emotion with every note of his sweet voice, bidding you wonder if he’d had a woman at port the whole time.

Everyone applauded him, naturally, when he finished, but as he rose from the bench and urged Seonghwa forward in his stead, again his eyes fell upon you.

“Who is she, this woman who charms such shanties out of you? Not a pirate queen, it seems?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow and straightening your brooch.

“I plan to make one of her yet. She certainly has no fear of making a mess of herself at the sea’s edge. I’ve never seen a smile like hers, but she’ll set a man straight if she wants to. She flew a kite with me once, and that was how I knew it would be murder stepping off her shores again.”

You’d flown kites together the previous month. He hadn’t one before, yours a gift to him. “Has she any token of her sailor?” You asked, swallowing and taking a step closer, lest you misread the man who’d made you a string of shells, run a hand over it every time you danced- and that was certainly much more than with any other crewmate.

At that, Yunho lifted your hand up by the wrist, presenting those same beads of nature you never had the heart to go without. They were as a sign to you- a sign you were never truly to be without companionship again. His hand held yours so gently, like a gentleman, before he placed a kiss to the back of it.

“From the moment I met her, I knew I couldn’t leave her without her wearing some sign of me. Aren’t I selfish?” He smiled, looking for all the world like a proud, mischievous boy you couldn’t quite bring yourself to discipline. “What a pirate. Even from an apology I seek something for myself.”

“Funny, my pirate is always saying his riches don’t belong to him. Saying things like he and his friends have rebuilt half of Seonghwa’s hometown with the money that had been fattening kings.”

“Your pirate, hm?” Yunho gazed into your eyes, fluttering his lashes as he brought your hand closer, pulling it near his chest, your face warming with the gesture. “I like the sound of that. Do you think of me, then, as I think of you?”

“I feel as though I am counting the days until your return,” you admit with a flush.

“Then let us be as otters on the sea, always holding each other afloat,” Yunho whispered, leaning to press a kiss to your lips, soft, chaste, and yet loving enough to spin your head, “come with me. You are more than a lady at the dock- I would have you by my side.”

☠Yeosang☠

You said yes.

Water lapped at the sides of the boat, swaying it comfortingly. The Captain had looked upon Yeosang with surprise, then some degree of annoyance, as they spoke outside of your earshot, but the moment he dubbed you a jeweler it was all smiles.

You’d have assignments before you knew it, but such would come to pass seemingly ages after the moment’s heaven. Shrugging the covers higher, you shuddered under the chill of untouched silk upon warm skin.

"Cold?" Yeosang slipped a bit closer, a hand running up and down your upper arm.

"Faintly," you replied, lashes fluttering into your gaze upon his visage, obscuring the beautiful candlelit image.

"Well, is it any small wonder? You've no clothes on!"

"I wonder who did that," you teased.

"I wonder," Yeosang repeated, smiling and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Nestling into the crook of his arm, you chuckled contentedly, gaze briefly flicking up to the crisscrossing of rafters making possible your hazy shelter. Glancing to the side, you caught a faraway look in Yeosang’s eyes as he gazed upon you, one you internally, half-jokingly, hoped was not regret.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked.

He flushed. No getting shy now, you wanted to say.

“I-I was wondering,” he began, trailing off sheepishly.

You loved that about him- such a man, and yet sweet as a lamb. What a wonderful contradiction.

“Yes?” You prompted.

“Now that we are nine,” Yeosang continued, shifting slightly beneath the covers, “will you…will you stay in my quarters?”

It was your turn to feel heat rising to your cheeks. So soon he wished that? Perhaps you should have been scared, but every risk you had taken, even leaving your hometown behind, had done nothing but excite and content you. All you felt was flattered, joyed, satisfied that you truly had made the pirate in the tavern yours.

“If you wish it, I will gladly stay here,” you replied with a smile, voice barely above a whisper.

“Huzzah!” He exclaimed quietly, hands balling into little fists about the sheets as he smiled widely. “It gets lonely in here, you know. But now I have the finest company of all.”

Your heart beat rapidly. “You shall also have the highest traffic- everyone will need the work of the jeweler’s daughter ere we know it,” you teased.

“Well,” Yeosang loosened one of his hands, sliding it beneath both layers of the blankets and sheets to take yours, giving it a squeeze, “that is a hazard I gladly accept.”

☠San☠

"I do care. I care to make new of my life," you told San, "for though you say you are wanted I see nothing but a good man. What place would your crew have for a shoe-shine girl?”

“You, Miss (y/n), are far more than that. The fact that you see the good in others is refreshing alone. Sometimes simplicities like that are forgotten in my line of work. I try to keep to them myself. When I saw you, I saw what I seek to be,” San replied, “if you join my crew, I can promise a home. I can promise adventure. But I cannot promise you freedom from things that could shatter the wonder in your eyes. Piracy is no easy job.”

Perhaps a part of you wanted to hear that word, but still your chest clenched, hand tightening slightly too around the note you held out, wind fluttering your hair. An eerie stillness resided within it, still an absence of passersby. The man before you truly was no ordinary sailor.

“When you say you want to give back to a place like this…” You began, trailing off beneath San’s intense gaze.

“We steal. We do,” San answered matter-of-factly, surely steeled in spite of any fanciful idealism, “but we have plenty. Towns like this? Places where priceless artifacts are stolen as trinkets or spectacles? Some thievery only rights thievery.”

He truly cut a dashing figure, trim and noble and a quiet sort of bold. Folly or not, you believed the man who showed you the kindness of a new life, be it in simple prosperity or adventure. Adventure of spying your first breaching of dolphins or tasting the fruit of a neighboring land, of unlocking some stolen artifact or even fighting burly men off your friend who’d started a barfight. Swinging off a ship’s rope. All the stories San had regaled you with as you shined his boots.

“I want to go with you.”

~

Humanity, not pity, was truly the way of the Eightfold. Not a one treated you like a stray they'd adopted off the streets, not like the people with high noses of your former home. You, rather, were an opportunity.

They all smiled at the way your eyes widened at the boat's rocking. Never had you been adrift before. Two of them climbed you up to the crow's nest and you, fighting off the shudderings of fear at the newfound height, leaned out over the glittering expanse, feeling as a bird or the north wind herself. And sure were they that your greatest skill would be found in no time. You'd offered to swab the deck, but San was insistent you'd done enough cleaning for now.

"We can make Mingi do that," he teased the tall, sharp-eyed marksman who'd surprised you with a boyish love of attention, nodding his way.

"Oi!" Mingi started up after him, pointing at the man who'd helped you decorate your new quarters. "Let Seonghwa keep doing it, he's the only one that likes it."

"I don't like it, I'm the only one who does it right!"

"Boys, boys," the captain held out hands, grinning in amusement, "you'll all have a turn at the deck, don't you worry. As for (y/n), San is right. She's more than earned something new."

'Something new' came in the form of another nerve-wracking crow's nest climb, steep ramps of fear with each hand over the other, and yet such a great reward. Stars now provided shine to the roiling sea, night sky reflecting it an inky black besides.

"Takes my breath away every time," San muttered at your side, looking at the water as if the stars weren't already in his widened eyes.

"I can imagine. Why do we come out here so late, though?"

"'Tis time for sextant training," San replied with a smile.

"Time for what?" You burst out in response, eyes flicking away from his back to the sea-never off the bottom of the crow's nest again, that was a one-time mistake-as your face rapidly warmed.

From your vision's peripheries, San held up a brass instrument boasting a pair of mirrors. "This, Miss (y/n), is how we find ourselves. Celestial bodies help us determine our location," he replied, gentle tone greatly contrasting yours. If he was surprised by the raising of your voice, such puzzlement remained with him.

"Very well," you replied, perhaps a bit too hastily, "let me see how it works."

~

You were a natural with the navigation device, an expert. Well, according to San, who convinced Captain Hongjoong that his shoe-shine girl was a perfect navigator. The sweet words he always had for you, the 'my' added to your old nickname, that one smile it seemed he reserved for you, well, it all accumulated in your heart like grains of sand lodged within an oyster, ever mindful of their presence. Grains rapidly expanding, shining into pearls.

San and you were to pose as an aristocrat couple, the rest of his crew having procured fine clothes from their stock. The dress they gave you was so beautiful, finer silk than had ever touched your skin, that you sat and simply admired it for a moment before even dressing. The pink fabric hugged your body perfectly, accentuating your figure far beyond what you could have ever imagined, even if the low neckline of current vogue had you flushing a bit. Then in came San, reflected in the looking glass as he cut a dashing figure in a tailored suit complete with a delicately embroidered waistcoat. Surely your eyes lingered a bit too long, but you could nary help yourself as he made purposeful strides to your side.

As you rose, rotating to face him, his mouth fell agape, lips parting in…shock?

“Quite different from my usual rags, is this not?” You joked in response.

“You look beautiful,” San breathed, his next step slower, almost reverent, “but it needs one final touch. Do you have my gift?” This time, his tone was a bit shy.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, making the short way to your dresser where you’d wrapped it up for safekeeping and procuring it, “right here.”

“If- if you’d be all right with it,” San said, “please keep that as your spoil. We pirates keep a sign of our first plunder, and though this was a gift, I would be so happy to see you wear it as such.”

Your eyes fell to the dripping gems, topaz alternating between classic yellow and the pink that perfectly matched the gown left at your door. No woman that you could imagine would have denied such elegant craftsmanship, such shine adorning her chest, but San’s expression was so deadly serious, so searching, that that would have been enough.

You nodded, giving a smile you hoped to be reassuring. “Of course, San.”

He broke out into the widest look of joy and flooding relief you’d ever seen, as though someone had just told him all his debts were paid. “Then let me put it on you,” he continued, rushing over to your side once more and gently lifting the necklace from your hands.

His hands shook, yet his fingers, surely trained from their reliefs of spoils, deftly clasped the chain about you as they gently, warmly, brushed your skin. From your peripheries you saw him tilt his head, and something in you bid you turn. You did, meeting him there as your lips connected, San’s holding yours, guiding them so softly he might have thought them glass. Your chest burst triumphantly, as if those fireworks your old home’s mayor had brought in to launch off the docks from China had been lit within your soaring heart.

There was that look again, that dimpled smile of pure joy, those eyes softened as they met yours, when San finally straightened again, parting with the sweet sorrow of old. “Well, it looks like we’ll play this couple role well tonight, won’t we?”

All you could do was nod, heart fluttering as he took your hand, leading you from your room as one might a bride, pearls in your heart glistening like the rainbows of a renewed sky.

☠Mingi☠

The first thing you did was strip your corset off.

Mingi had spirited you away to his quarters while he sought to go, in his words, “explain you”. He was almost naively confident that you would be accepted, leaving you to your own devices in his space with ease. Before leaving, he had dropped a pair of trousers that might fit you on his hammock, the whimsical waving space where he took his rest. Thank the stars, they fit, lacing up at the front like the reverse of your horrendous undergarments and actually allowing you to-shock of shocks!- loosen them as needed.

There was a long scroll of paper hanging by a nail on the wall. It was plain white save for strokes of ink down its surface, gorgeous brushstrokes of calligraphy. Brushing your fingers against the bottom of it, you wondered whose delicate hand might have drawn it. As it was, you were dressed and Mingi hadn’t exactly bidden you wait any certain amount of time, so you creaked your way back up the steps and onto the deck, seal ring hanging in scornful display about your chest.

The pirate had leant you trousers, knee-high boots, and a white tunic to tuck in, and while you felt a bit self-conscious at the open chest a part of you smiled. This would have had the aristocratic courts you’d been thrust in you fainting at the sight-even showing a bit of ankle was a bit unseemly, yet there you were. What a relief it was to stride in trousers, let a little skin breathe.

You almost walked into Mingi in your reverie, stopping just short of a collision as he excitedly announced you’d made the crew a Ninefold.

“I have? Your captain is letting me stay, then?”

Mingi didn’t answer, just stood stock still, jaw falling a bit open. The only sound around you was the breeze, a lone seagull calling out from the clouds.

“Mingi?”

He shook his head, a sudden jerking motion. “My apologies. I just…” His expression turned sheepish, back to that kind look that initially endeared you. “I thought you were pretty before, but wow…”

The compliment, that kind smile, the sheer innocence, all had your heart turning over. What sort of feeling was that?

~

“Selfishly I am quite glad you chose learning to shoot.”

Mingi had set up something of a shooting gallery for you, the crew’s entirety having insisted upon your learning some form of combative measures for defense at least. Being unsure as you were regarding your readiness for the brutality of the sword, you felt it a clear choice: learn to shoot. The tall pirate who had rescued you, if doing the opposite to your unfortunate boor of a betrothed and his companions who attempted a foolish fight, was the ship’s adept with firearms, handing you the very same revolver which had killed your near-captor.

It was heavy in your hand, both physically and in the most literary of senses, as if you yourself had now borne the weight of a life ended. The weapon had beautiful mother-of-pearl inlays decorating its wood, metal shined freshly. Mingi clearly cared for the things, and quite dashing they were up close.

“Now, remember, no finger on the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Aim for the box there,” Mingi pointed, guiding you toward an old broken crate he’d propped on a barrel, assuring you it was trash anyway.

Willing your hand not to shake, you held up a revolver in both hands, aiming at the crate before your index finger slid to the trigger, pulling it back. You knew it was coming and yet the kick had you stumbling. Your first shot was a bit low, striking the upper edge of the barrel. Of course you apologized, but Mingi just laughed and waved a hand, flashing you that wonderfully kind grin.

“Here, let me help you aim,” he told you as he stepped behind you, standing flush to your back and taking hold of your elbow, sliding his hand up as he stayed your arm.

Haze descended into every crevasse of your brain at the warmth of his hip against yours, thicker than that day he’d paid you compliment. His words had made you a fool…

“Alright, (y/n), now!”

BANG!

“That’s my girl!” Turning you around, this time with hands upon your hips, Mingi smiled right into your haze, sea breeze ruffling his hair and whipping through yours.

You grinned back, leaping for joy beneath his hold. A fool you were to be, but an accurate one yet.

☠Wooyoung☠

You slapped the hand of the pirate who called himself Wooyoung off the curve of your waist as he strode triumphantly out of the tavern with you.

“Quit that, you’re not taking me home,” you chided.

He grinned. “I live on the ship. I’m taking you to the ship.”

“To speak with your Captain. See if he’s even got the room for me you think he does.”

“If you’re half as vicious in a fight, he will indeed.”

“You seem to think me quite a fighter for someone with no proof,” you teased.

“We could always wrestle.”

Another slap, this one markedly softer than the last, though. You shook your head, fighting a smile as you crossed the streets, inching ever closer to the docks, the waves surrounding your hometown. Night had closed firmly in upon the patchwork of angles and shingles that were your mess of a birthplace, casting shadows from every eave you passed beneath. Soon, though, you made your way upon the dock, Wooyoung walking you up to the side of a ship bearing the black flag. You knew your ramshackle town was quite friendly with outlaws, but it still rose an eyebrow how bold this man Wooyoung and his crew flaunted their thievery.

“Here we are,” said pirate waved a braceleted hand at the ship’s gangplank, allowing you to lift your skirt and tap up it first, “home sweet home.”

No sooner had you set foot upon the deck than did a voice ring out at your side, another pirate emerging from the shadows. “I know you threatened to find a tavern girl to take home, Wooyoung, but have some class. Is that fair to her?”

No man cowed you anymore. You stepped right over to him, pointed-heel boots thudding upon wood hollower than that of your workplace. “I am only here to speak to your Captain. Nothing more, nothing less. If anyone conquers anyone, it shall be me to his false bravado,” you told the pirate, nodding back to the man you’d danced with.

“He’s a good man beneath it all,” the dark-haired pirate all but whispered.

“I suspected,” you replied. For all Wooyoung’s talk, he held you gently, swayed you merrily, treated you like a far finer thing than a night. Something in him must have thought it unfitting for a man in his position or else found it entertaining. Honestly, likely the latter. “He wishes to make a pirate queen out of a hellhole’s barmaid,” you chuckled, “No one has ever helped me before.”

“He sees something special in you, and I can see why. Welcome to the Eightfold.”

“If your Captain consents,” you shot back.

“I do,” the man who’d melted from the shadows grinned, fingers reaching up to a gold jolly roger pin upon the lapel of his flowing jacket, clearly some symbol of status, “you’ve much spirit indeed, Miss.”

~

You were willing to throw a punch and knew how to prepare the odd fruit the Eightfold had two crates of, and that was good enough for them. They all insisted you were a worthy recruit for quelling barfights alone. Flattering. At least they made good on their promise to get you a sword. The thing felt good in your hand, that much more satisfying than the knife you'd already hidden for the journey to the ship.

Ever an authority of insistence, Wooyoung pushed for his crew to throw a little party to welcome you. Likely an excuse to swing you around the deck, you reflected with a smirk.

Sure enough, as three of his crewmates procured instruments, he bowed like a gentleman at some high-class affair and offered his hand. "May I show our pirate queen a good time?"

You took it. "You may, though I'll stick with 'newest member' for now."

The pair of you stepped in a merry circle to kick off the first upbeat dance before Wooyoung wrapped a hand around your waist from the side, ready to whirl. "Funny, I'd have said 'best looking'," he shot back.

"Oh? That's not you, my daring highwayman?"

You spied a quite unfamiliar bashfulness creep through Wooyoung's smile, his stark gaze dropping a bit beneath the repetition of tunes and the crashing of small waves and the stomping of boots. The look lasted but a moment, replaced by the old standby of wicked fun. "Highwayman? High-seas-man, perhaps!"

"However you like to fancy yourself," you replied, smiling back despite your words.

You'll give the man that: the neverending battle of wits made for good fun, flowing as much a force of nature for you as those surging waves. He was a good dancer, too.

No sooner had you thought that then did the push and pull and twirl overtake, your feet quite literally being swept off as you were dipped low to the deck, a hand instinctively moving to Wooyoung's chest to stabilize yourself. The vee of his tunic was quite deep, your balancing act catching far more of him than of fabric. Another thing he had in his favor, you reflected as your dance partner slid a hand to the back of your head, angling you a bit lower in the process. He leaned a bit further in, nose almost touching yours.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you spoke, voice low. "Not with everyone watching," you told him, pushing back up on his chest in a way that had him standing you back up as the notes faded out into the night's wind.

As you sauntered off to fetch a drink, you caught Wooyoung's eyes following you even more intensely, chest blooming and lips rising with satisfaction.

☠Jongho☠

He’d offered his arm and you’d taken it. A stroll like two lovers meeting, and yet you were leading a pirate to aid in robbing your gracious host. Resisting a dark chuckle, you simply exhaled, giving a little shake of your head. Nothing like you'd expected of the fine evening.

Jongho hummed at your side, tilting his head in question as you passed beneath parted velvet curtains through a columned doorway out to the garden path.

"This is simply...not what I expected of the evening," you spoke into his silent query.

“You can always turn back,” he offered, still looking imperceptibly matter-of-fact.

At that, you shook your head. “Not now. This is an opportunity to be a part of something. To have purpose beyond another. I think maybe that is a better step than falling in love first.”

At that, Jongho smiled, leading you further until you stopped beneath a silver trellis, where three other men stood. “I agree. Well, I say here should be a fair stop. I thank you for-” He froze, grip loosening on your arm.

Following his gaze, you saw another man, fair-haired and finely dressed, standing only about two metres off, an azalea bush only slightly obscuring him. “Not one of your others, is he?”

Jongho shook his head.

“What should we do?” You asked quietly.

Another of Jongho’s men, a tall figure with dark hair and a blade sheathed at his side, replied from the ivy-covered rendezvous point. “If we had something to knock him out with, maybe he’d forget what he saw long enough for us to leave.”

You had heard of that- all it took was a great enough weight, right? Stooping as much as your dress allowed, you hoisted up a little marble statue of a cherub seated on a little pedestal, book in hand. “This should do, right?”

Another of the men, this one with shining black bangs like curtains, nodded and smiled impishly. The tall gentleman-er, pirate- with the blade began a nod, then his entire countenance, face and posture, faded into shock as you lunged forward, knocking the angel into the man’s head and sending him falling backwards. Your stomach heaved at the crimson rivulet streaming from where he lie, hands shooting to your face.

“Is he- Did I..?” Your voice rose barely above a whisper as the carven angel, now dripping with blood, clattered onto a tile from your loosening fingers.

"We need to run," Jongho said, taking hold of your wrist this time as he shuffled through the trellis, "all of us."

"But wait-" You protested beneath his careful hold, running on instinct in an attempt to keep up with the rapid pumping of his legs, barely avoiding catching your skirts.

"If anyone sees that you did that, you could be hanged as a m-" The third man, one with wide, innocent eyes, spoke up, words quite in contrast to his demeanor.

"That's enough," Jongho cut him off, still plodding down the tile trail past the home's prize rosebushes, "(y/n), this place is not safe for you. Run away with us."

You felt sick, but your heart fluttered- out of nerves or excitement, you could hardly tell. All you did was nod weakly, chest burning with heavy breaths from your sprint out the garden gate with four men you barely knew.

~

Guilt wound its way through your chest like a cold snake at what transpired in the garden that night, and yet you found comfort in the pirates who had whisked you to their ship. Being the Eightfold, there were four others beside Jongho and the three who'd looted your hosts that evening, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa. Mingi, another tall, imposing pirate, removed his wide-brimmed hat and held it as his chest.

"The first one is always the hardest," he said, and in his tone rested clouds of such a deep sadness that you could nary even question his meaning.

The men gave you such a royal welcome, distracting you with rousing song and dance and more questions and stories than your head could spin at. They’d brought an octopus on deck, taught you how to play tavern card games no lady would have dared touch at home, and hosted a mock trial with Jongho presiding as judge when First Mate Seonghwa ‘tried Captain Hongjoong for high piracy’. You’d expected Jongho to play a serious judge, yet his character broke his dry persona by playing with his gavel and shouting at inopportune times. They saw the way you still balked at sparring, however.

"Do you regret it?" Jongho asked you one day, striding to your side and joining you in leaning upon the edge of the ship, watching the passage of white-capped waves.

“Of course I do. I was so caught up in the moment, I had no inkling I- I- something like that could come of my hand. But I think what I regret more was the faint part of me that enjoyed it. Something completely untouched, utterly foreign woke in me and rushed through my veins and I fear what could come of releasing it again.”

You heard Jongho inhale at your side, felt his exhale faintly against you with the brush of his tunic upon your own shirt. “I will tell you this: we pirates at least never kill without a very, very good reason. And what you did, you did not realize. It was not so in your heart. You were afraid, had just seen a fight, felt for the first time in your life you had something to defend. Would you not say?”

You stared into the shine of Jongho’s deep eyes. He spoke so closely into your mind, it was as if he had been there himself. The waves surrounding you drowned out your emotion, grounded your tears with swirls far more powerful than you could ever truly comprehend. He was right. All your life, you had been taught to seek something to hold onto. In your upbringing, that had been someone else, the security of a man, a fortuitous marriage. An education perhaps, were you feeling any inclination to teach in a prestigious field. Anything to increase the size of your twinkle in society’s eyes. Never fighting to take care of your life. Never to find what it was you wanted. Certainly not learning how to fish just because the fancy had taken you and a crewmate on a still day. All of this came pouring forth from your heart to your lips, no tears accompanying the words, just a tired shudder, a slump as you fell into what felt like a waking sleep, your body truly able to relax from its admissions.

Jongho tensed a bit when your head hit his shoulder. Fatigued as you were, you shot up instantly, leaning further upon the wood again. The strong man before you was, you gathered, the least in favor of the others’ brotherly holds. What a nuisance you must have seemed…

He looked at you with those searching eyes again, the eyes that seemed to bore into thoughts that had barely even come to fruition for you. “It’s all right. I understand. You need this.” He patted his shoulder, welcoming you back. “If you want to.” His gaze darted a bit as he smiled softly, breaking the so-steady contact that had you both wishing to hide away the shadows he saw and lean into it completely.

Something snapped in your chest at that look, yet another of Jongho’s many surprises you’d seen since he first broke your dance to manhandle a villain. For seeming such a smile man, he understood you so much more than you him. Maybe someday that would change.

As it was, you gratefully leaned again, bobbing with the sea in silence save for her mighty roar.

[silenzahra]

They keep saving my life ✨

Dear friends, I've been missing today because I've been trying to recover from last night's experience! I went to watch my favorite band live again and I'm not exaggerating when I say they saved my life once more 🥹 It's just what I needed to feel entirely good again! My beloved Estopa never fail to make me feel better, them and the Mario Brothers are literally keeping me ALIVE these last years and I'm seriously so blessed 😭

I'm not gonna repeat everything I said here as the repertory was essentially the same, but I do want to add a video and some pics, and also a VERY silly conversation they had (as well as something related to my writing). So keep reading if you're curious, and it's totally fine if you're not! 🥰

Still, I believe perhaps @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @stripetkattelalala54-gf @itsavee4117 would like this! Of course, if you're not interested, just let me know and I'll remove your tag! 💖

THE FOREHEAD TOUCH AT THE END. THE WAY THE CROWD STARTS SCREAMING WHEN THEY DO IT. People do LOVE seeing them doing it, me included of course, and I can only melt and CRY 😭 (Yes, you can hear me singing and screaming, I recorded this video myself, so surprise! Voice reveal 😂)

And the line they were singing face to face right before bringing their foreheads together...

"And I'm still here by your side until the wind blows me away."

... I'm not crying, I just got some brotherly love in my eye 🥲🥲🥲

Also, a few minutes ago I just ran into this pic, a close-up of THE moment, and I DIED again 👇

THEIR FACES. THEIR FOREHEADS. I CAN'T. These brothers are gonna be the DEATH of me I swear 😭😭😭

The fact that they're REAL. I just can't get over it. Mario and Luigi have a WONDERFUL bond and you all know I love them wholeheartedly, but the fact that Estopa are the real, actual personification of brotherly love? In our world?? Them having so much fun together and always showing how much they LOVE each other in every single concert???

Excuse me if I CRY but they're too PRECIOUS.

I just can't have enough of them. As you all know, they inspired me to write my musicians post, and also two of my WIPs that revolve around different things (the brothers on stage and Luaisy smut). They inspire me. They've been doing so ever since I became a fan of them, which, btw, happened exactly 18 years ago today! Man, I'm old 🥲

And the thing is... If you've been following me lately, you know I've been going through some hard times and I've been feeling down for a long time. So much so that I was unable to read... nor write. I'm still in the process of getting over my reader's block...

... but my writer's one might be coming to an end at last.

It's too soon to speak yet, but Estopa's music does inspire me, as well as their brotherly dynamic and their chemistry on stage. And yesterday, a few things happened that only gave me more and more ideas for that future story I wanna write with Mario and Luigi being musicians and performing together.

First of all, a very silly conversation:

"I am your brother." "Yes, me too." "... No." "Yes, I am your brother." "I am your brother, but you're my brother. I'm not my brother." "Of course, because I am your brother. You're my brother." "No, I'm not my brother, I'm your brother!"

I swear, me and my friend were just cracking up at the stupidest conversation EVER 😂 You can't tell me this isn't Mario and Luigi 🤭😂

Unfortunately... there were a couple of times where David almost fell off the stage 😅 The first time, I didn't even notice because I was further back, but I was a bit confused that he was standing still at one end of the stage when he's usually running and dancing here and there while singing.

And then... I saw this. Unfortunately it's an Instagram story which means it'll be gone at some point, but even though I've tried, Tumblr just wouldn't let me add a second video to this post 🤦‍♀️ So I just hope you can get to see it before it's gone, but it's basically poor David tripping and being about to fall off the stage 🥲

Poor man, I swear I feel SO BAD for him 😭😭😭 All I wanna do is run and help him through the screen! Thank God he handled it and didn't hurt himself but I swear I SCREAMED when I saw this 🥺

On a brighter note though... the second time was hilarious and he didn't hurt himself 🤭 To give you some context, it turns out there was a famous artist among the crowd watching the concert. His name is Dani Martín and he's friends with Estopa. They actually sang one of Estopa's songs together a while back, and when they started playing it last night, David suddenly noticed his friend...

... And he jumped off the stage to go sing with him! 😂😂😂

The moment his butt literally kisses the ground, I'm so DEAD I swear 😂😂😂 You just CAN'T convince me Mario wouldn't do something like this if he spotted, I don't know, Geno, maybe? 🤭

They're so friendly I swear! This was such a big surprise, and my friend was elated because she's also a big fan of Dani Martín! So it was really so great they did something like this 🥹 David jumping to bring him on stage and Jose ceding him his mic, they're just so nice and pure 😭

Anyways, as I said, the rest was very similar to the concert in Sevilla I attended back in June (only that this time I was WAY closer and I couldn't believe it 🤩), so I'll just add that I've been sharing some videos of the concert on my Instagram stories, and I'll probably share a few more tomorrow as I recorded a lot 🤭

Also, my friend sent me the videos she recorded and her phone has such a higher quality than mine! So yeah, those are coming to my insta stories tomorrow too 😂 Just in case you'd like to see said videos, here's my Instagram account! I'm saving them all on the higlighted stories called "Estopa Chiclana" btw, so they're gonna remain there no matter what 🥰

And to say goodbye, here's an AMAZING pic my friend took at the beginning of the concert and that has become my new lockscreen! 😁🔥

It captures their essence SO WELL and it gives me so many ideas for Mario and Luigi! 🥹❤️💚

[ireallyamabear]

Thank you for tagging me @0liver-hope ! I made a new post bc that other one was really fucking long already. Also my phone just tried to correct that to gucking

Last Song:

I'm eating a pizza right now and there's some kind of techno remix playing in the pizza place...

Favorite Color:

Green! Just got a new green jacket. I dress like a little army man these days 🥲 my bike is also green and vegetables and the grass! Amazing. Have you guys heard about this

Last Movie/TV Show:

I saw John Wick last week for the first time... it was okay. Keanu Reeves can get it tho. Also I'm watching black sails and mash right now. I'm enjoying both, I'd say black sails is an amazing production but drags sometimes.... but I love how contemporary the historical people feel? Just like people? Mash is good too.for a long time I totally thought mash was the show about American pows that my grandpa used to watch in the 90s. Different show oops

Sweet, Spicy, or Savory:

Savory!!!!! I can't handle Spicy food much and in the last few years started to not enjoy overly sweet stuff anymore... watch out it'll happen to you too. I had the perfect potato gözleme the other day...

Relationship Status:

Eligible bachelor only by tumblr standards 😬

Last Thing I Googled:

If you can use multiple different library cards with Libby. Apparently you can! I duckduckgoed it actually

Loooove libby it's making me read so much!

Current Obsession:

Still in the andor trenches with you buddy. That fanart the other day with dead melshi???? Killed me dead as well. Im also lying there lifeless on a beach. It actually reminded me of the dead dog in John Wick ,wait which came first??? Does the dog die in rogue one? Yes unfortunately

It's actually good for me that the andor fandom moves so slowly these days,makes it easier to keep up ..

This was fun let's do it again!

No pressure tagging the last 7 moochs in my notes @bornforastorm @gayvillains @mysouvenirs @hideflen @tremendouskoalachild @chipthekeeper @bisexualwintermoon and anyone who wants to!

[adrift-in-thyme]

I’ve never requested anything before so I hope this is right!

I’m going with some Malink angst, I absolutely LOVEEE reading your whump fics for them so I guess… more pain please? 🥲 if that’s okay?

Tysm for the prompt @endlessartpumpkin <333 I had a lot of fun with this one. It’s very angsty hehe

I hope you enjoy it!

CW for blood and injury

——————————

Malon has always been aware of the possibility that Link would die before her. He is a hero, after all, her knight in shining armor through and through. If someone needs help — whether to reunite with a loved one or save an entire kingdom — he will never refuse them.

Sometimes, she has the selfish yearning that just once…he would.

And now, as she gazes at the heroes standing on her doorstep, as she gazes at her husband lying limp in Twilight’s arms, she wants it more than ever. Because Link, who is full of life and laughter and love, Link who has faced the moon itself and lived to tell the tale, her Link who proposed with the biggest, gaudiest ring in Hyrule because he wanted to show her how much he cared…Link the love of her life should never look like he does right now.

She steps forward, one hand held to her lips, the other reaching out to touch him.

He is so pale. His chest hardly rises, breathing so shallow it is hardly there at all. If she allowed it, she could be convinced that he is already gone.

Malon forces herself to take a deep breath. She won’t do that. She won’t imagine that her fairy boy is dead.

“What happened?” She asks, tone sharp with panic.

It is Twilight who answers, in a broken voice she has never heard him use before.

“He…he took a hit that was meant for me.”

His breath hitches. It is only slight, but Malon hears it anyway. She lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks at her, there is such pain in those gray eyes, such sorrow, that it breaks her heart.

There is hardly time to comfort him, however. They both know it.

“Bring him inside,” she orders, shoving aside the emotions churning about inside her. “Set him on the bed. I’ll get some supplies.”

Twilight moves without a word. The others follow him into the house, expressions tight and pained.

A hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “I’ll get the supplies,” Warriors says. His face is a mask rapidly shattering. But he smiles, strong for her, strong for the man he calls his little brother.

“You go to him.”

Malon nods, sighing. “Thank you, dear. The medical stuff is in the bathroom. You remember where that is, don’t you?”

“Of course.” In a swirl of royal blue fabric, Warriors is gone.

Taking a moment to steel herself, Malon heads into the bedroom.

They have already laid him on the bed when she steps through the doorway. From this angle, if she didn’t know better, she would think he was merely asleep. But unfortunately, she does know better. And the ashen color of his face, the sheen of sweat upon his brow, the feverish trembling of his body tells her a different story.

Then, of course, there is the blood.

The heroes are in the process of bandaging him. (They work quickly, she thinks with a spark of pride.) But even the thick swaths of fabric that they wind around his abdomen can only do so much to halt the onslaught of crimson liquid.

It soaks them through within minutes.

Malon makes her limbs move, bringing her forward. There is no time to sit here and gaze in horror at what has become of her husband. With firm hands, she grabs a new roll of gauze and sets to work.

Between the ten of them, Link’s wound is cleaned and wrapped in little time. And through it all, Hyrule stands beside her, magic glowing at his palms, trying in vain to heal the injury. But it fights back of its own accord.

“What on earth hurt him like this?” Malon asks, voice tight. The other heroes have backed up now, giving her room to stand by her husband’s bedside. She leans over him, fingers brushing aside his limp bangs. He gives a shuddering breath and turns slightly into her touch.

“We don’t know what manner of monster it is yet,” Warriors says. “But it’s stronger than its companions, and smarter too. And…when someone gets struck by it the wound struggles to heal.”

Malon swallows. “But it does heal eventually, right?” She looks up at all of them, at their sorrowful expressions, at the way they struggle to meet her eyes. “Right?”

“It can.” It’s Twilight now, his voice gravelly from the tears he struggles to restrain. “He’s just gotta keep fighting.”

She turns back to her fairy boy. A ray of sun illuminates the side of his face, making his markings stand out starkly against his pale skin. The crimson stripes look especially fierce in the early morning light.

“He will,” she says, and it is both a demand and a plea, a promise and a prayer. “Don’t y’all worry. He will.”

….

It isn’t until that night that he awakens. The other heroes have drifted away by then, reluctant to leave, but all too aware of the suffocating nature of everyone packed into one room. Only Hyrule and Twilight remain. But both have finally caved to her urgings for them to get some much-needed rest and are slumped over the arm chairs in the corners.

So, when Link drags open his eye, she is the only one who sees it.

His gaze is bright with fever and pain, its usual sharpness dulled. But it only takes him a moment to find her.

“Malon.”

It is breathed more than spoken, hardly a hoarse whisper. He lifts a trembling hand, clumsily cupping her cheek. Gently, she threads her fingers between his.

“I’m here, hon.”

“Mal I…” His breath hitches into a wet cough. It wracks his body, violently, and sends tears sliding down his cheeks. The sound of it tears her heart in two.

“Take it easy, fairy boy.” She fetches a cloth from the side table and wipes away the blood that dribbles from his lips. “That monster did a number on you.”

Link hums. “Would’ve hurt Twilight if-if I hadn’t…”

“I know.” A small, sad smile lifts her lips. “I know.”

He sags against the pillows, breathing shallow, eye half-lidded. He is already fading again, Malon can tell. So soon, too soon.

“The boys,” he whispers, “they’re…”

“Fine. Worried sick about you though. You scared ‘em half to death.”

She shakes her head. The pain within her feels like it will cleave her chest in half.

“Why’d you use your own body to block the blow, Link? You’ve got shields and items – so many of them I can’t even keep track of ‘em all. Aren’t those there to try and make sure this-this…doesn’t happen?”

Link’s expression dulls further. He looks all of his true years now, weighed down by the duties he has long born, exhausted from a lifetime of pain.

“Knocked my shield out of my hand.” He looks up at her and something in his gaze pleads that she understand. “There wasn’t time for-for anything else.”

Malon gazes at him for a long moment.

“You’re insufferable, fairy boy,” she says, at last, a choked chuckle erupting out of her. “Why’d I have to fall in love with such a hero?”

He smiles back, though it is a weak effort.

“Because…of my unbelievably good looks.”

She laughs again and it sounds more like a sob.

“Well, I can’t pretend that that wasn’t a part of it.”

He chuckles, but it quickly dissolves into another coughing fit. She holds his hand through it, battling against the tears that beg to pour forth. And when it is over, she wipes away the blood again, and the tears. He closes his eye and leans into her touch.

“You gotta promise me somethin, fairy boy,” she murmurs, as she sets the cloth aside and rubs her thumb against his cheek instead.

Link looks up at her, something terribly vulnerable in his expression. She has only ever seen him gaze at her with such a look. It is an overwhelmingly precious thing.

“Anything,” he says and she believes him.

“You keep fighting, no matter what.” She encases his hand in two of her own, grip as desperate and firm as her words. “Don’t you give up, you hear me? Don’t you dare even think of giving up.”

Her voice cracks, but she plows on anyway. “I can’t lose you, Link.”

His lips quirk up in the slightest of smiles. When he squeezes her hand, it is a feeble movement, but it is there nonetheless, a confirmation that he has heard her.

“I won’t,” he breathes. “Promise.”

The tears come now, cascading down her cheeks in traitorous rivulets. She brushes them away. Then, leaning down, she plants a gentle kiss on Link’s brow.

“Good.”

His eye flutters closed. “Love you, Mal,” he murmurs, voice so soft and quiet she has to strain to catch the words.

But she does. She catches them like the flitting butterflies she used to capture between two careful hands when she was a girl. And she holds them close to her heart.

“I love you too, fairy boy.”

[lemonhemlock]

Really not looking to start ship wars in your asks so please don’t take this a certain way or anything, you are one of the only helaemond friendly team green blogs I know! I like all the Greencest ships but am particular to helaemond and it’s been so weird to see how TG fandom has turned on these shippers. I get having problems with how Aemond has been written this season, but even before season 2 came out people were making fun of them, there’s a whole dumb Helaemond vs Helaegon ship argument that in all honesty seems fairly one sided, and now it’s a popular discourse about how hoping they (helaemond) have some scenes together in what remains of the 3 episodes we have left 😭 is treating her character poorly. Nevermind there is also no chance for us to explore her and Aegon meaningful either (I actually loved their first scene this season but anyway it is clear that is not happening) and we all want to see more of her? I don’t know it’s all very frustrating, I get people have preferences for one ship over another, it just comes across so mean spirited when we all obviously like the same characters. I also don’t remember it being this way for a very long time, I was lurking in season 1 and over hiatus. This is all so recent 🥲

It's all right, anon, I don't mind the occasional ship discourse. It's been a while, hasn't it? :)) I haven't been on twitter in ages, but is it really that different now than it's been during the hiatus? Because I remember people being very anti-helaemond all the time, I don't even think there was a time where this ship wasn't being called into question over every little thing. Not to mention generally nasty behaviour towards shippers.

It's no secret I've been unimpressed with Aemond's development this season. I am still looking forward to the Phia-Ewan scenes, especially since they revealed they were playing them with a helaemond twist in mind, even though it will remain subtext. But the compounding problem is that they haven't done anything with Helaena this season either. Her big event was minimized as much as possible and her descent into madness wasn't even removed because they wanted her to be less incapacitated. They're not giving her anything to do now post-B&C either! She is simply sitting in rooms or walking down corridors, not having much of an opinion on anything and completely uninvolved in the lives of her family or in the conflict. She is being written without much agency at all: she is the queen, yet she doesn't even seek out anyone or initiate a conversation by herself - everything simply happens to her.

The helaemond vs helaegon argument remains dumb, because they're both equally underdeveloped on screen (the first is subtext, the second is..... criminally absent). Basically the pot calling the kettle black. In both ships and, unfortunately, in all her relationships seemingly, Helaena is just a projection for the other person to react to. She makes Alicent feel sad, Aegon feel awkward and Aemond covetous. Will we ever get a scene that's about Helaena? Forget the Bechdel test, we'll have to resort to the Helaena Targaryen test

So, in that regard, IDEK what kind of interaction she could possibly have with Aemond at this point. Will her story yet again be subordinated to her interlocutor? I hope I'm wrong, but at this point, I expect the scenes between them will actually end up being about Aemond and his characterisation. Will he be the one who figures out her gift of prophecy while she simply exists alongside him in a room? Remember that she never even received one scene next to Dreamfyre - but Aemond did!

It's just so unbalanced and it goes beyond any shipping wars - Helaena doesn't have an arc. She never received one in the first place. In the last episode, she acted the same way she did in S01E08. There's no emotional progression to her character: so far, she's been threatened by Meleys, become queen, had one child brutally murdered in front of her, witnessed her mother's affair and now her brother lies on his deathbed, with an incapacitated dragon, effectively leaving them with only Vhagar operational in a full-blown war. She was a little sad and now she's over it and back to her baseline melancholia. Come on.

It's not the concept of helaemond that's treating her character poorly. It's the fact that they have no idea what to do with her apart from having her glide throughout the castle like a ghost.

[not-goldy]

But why Jimin is feeling some type about turning 30 🤔 He doesn't have a biological clock ticking to get pregnant, he's a man who according according society doesn't reach their 'expiry date any time soon, he got everything settled financially and family wise, he got supportive parents but he lived majority of his life away from them... now even if he wants to have them here he's perfectly capable to do so. He still looks dropdead gorgeous... actually older he becomes prettier and graceful he turns. His body is still young and beautiful, He already got a partner who is so understanding and makes him feel the best no matter how he looks or his age.

I don't see Tae, who's same age as him focusing on turning 30 much.. he's still having fun, dating best girls out there, all set to enjoy after he retun from MS too. Like he should..because 30 is still very young in my book lol

Biological clock to get pregnant....

Ha🤣

A. He's human

B. Different backgrounds Different directions in life

Tae doesn't have chronic backpain does he??

Tae's career is not woven around his ability to dance his ass off and contour his body into impossible shapes does he? He dances sure and he's good sure but he's not Jimin 🥴

Watch BTS Island or whatever that show was I think they talked about these things- vmin I mean.

Remember he said he hated working out but then had to learn to love it because he needed to work on his form. He said he was becoming weak- he is not just a pretty face. He is not the type of idol you'd give a mic and a seat center stage to perform.

He is Beyonce. He is a spectacle

He will always be a spectacle unfortunately

Losing weight, dieting, fixing his teeth tweaking that- can't do that all his life that's just sad if he has to😢

So he is gonna reminisce and wonder if he should keep doing this or choose a different part- as he said he did before in the past when BTS was going through stuff.

He's gonna reinvent himself take stock reevaluate and shit. 30 is a milestone I suppose most idols do that before they decide to go all in for the long ride- you wouldn't want to look back at 40 and regret certain things you know?

This is where I start ranting bout the impossible beauty standards and performance expectations yall have of him- HE IS SOMEONE'S SON NOT AN OBJECT FOR YOUR ADMIRATION

And before you tell me this idol don't do that that person don't do that- THAT PERSON IS NOT JIMIN AND YOU KNOW DEAD WELL YOU HOLD JIMIN TO A MUCH HIGHER STANDARD THAN TEHM DONT LIE

And let's not forget 30 is primarily when an Idols career is assumed to have come to an end in kpop- sure there are new trends of older idols breaking the stereotypes but let's not act like age isn't a huge part of Kpop and that newer younger, much much younger idols are popping up on the scene- they may not be as seasoned or as talented but that will not stop toxic stans perpetuating ageism against BTS.

Its very normal for an idol of JMs caliber to put some thoughts into what he wants to do with his life at this point- if the company isn't going to be any helpful to his career and he doesn't have his age playing in his favor then boy or girl he very much has a right to ponder over his age. He's human.

If he's queer and wants a family then he very much has to worry about that too. And don't be fooled, men do experience low sperm count as they age and other erectile disfunction as they age too it's not just women like they try to portray.

They grow grey hairs and they go bald 🙄

Their bodies change dramatically with age too🥲

I can go on and on but he's just human doing what normal humans do.

[mecachrome]

fic writer questions

haiii thank u @bright-and-burning for the tag :') nobody is online so i will Reflect and return with a worse image...

how many works do you have on AO3?

20 (16 on my main account, 4 on my sports account)... and then 15 more on dreamwidth 🥲

what's your total ao3 word count?

175.5k T__T

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

gurllll. no one needs to see my 11th grade k-pop fic like that

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try my best but i have a difficult relationship with my writing so i often block out that i wrote a fic at all after some time and it hinders my ability to acknowledge commenters directly ;__; and then i always feel awkward responding like 6 months late to someone so i just let it go even though i know no one actually minds... i really do appreciate every comment i get though and deeply cherish everyone's kind words and generosity!!!

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

i don't really write angsty endings tbh i just write vaguely bittersweet ambiguous stuff... perhaps sharl character study i wrote for a friend's birthday would be up there because the whole thing is just inelegant whump LOL

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

for my own birthday a couple of years ago i wrote an extremely self-indulgent k-pop fic with all of my favorite tropes and also coded elaborate interactive html/css elements with multimedia messages and notifications you could tap on and the whole thing was just sweet secret relationship toothrutting fluff 💗 anyway extremely cringe but i enjoyed myself and thought it was mostly cute

do you write crossovers?

i haven't for any fictional fandoms... the concept is fun though!

have you ever received hate on a fic?

not directly 2 my face !!!

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i'm an ambiguous fade 2 black kind of guy even if i do try my best at times... TT i'm just too repressed 4 this life unfortunately. pwp writers have my major respect it really is sooo difficult to write cohesive compelling comprehensible porn 

have you ever had a fic stolen?

idts but i have had oomfs/people adjacent my circles turn out to be plagiarizers which is always an unpleasant surprise!

have you ever had a fic translated?

yasss shoutout to anyone who has translated my random fics to russian or spanish 🧡

have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes ! i wrote a bnha au for a k-pop ship with my friend once lol she wrote most of it and i kind of just contributed a scene and the concept but it was still really fun, she's a much better writer than i could ever hope to be... also helped friend finish a fic for a fest once because it was overdue and she tapped out so i was up until 6am filling in scenes randomly for her. oh to be 18 again <3

what's your all-time favorite ship?

unfortunately in f1 it is simply landoscar... all-time i don't know!!! actually i do but i don't want to say it. nvm

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

arghhh... all of my 814 wips at the moment honestly. especially my kidfic verse that i'm deeply attached to but tragically incapable of working on TT and the jb81 that i totally gave up on!!!

what are your writing strengths?

this is an oxymoron.... i have never written anything good in my entire life. i love to beta read other people's fic for grammar though that's always fun

what are your writing weaknesses?

poor/stiff dialogue, horrible romantic development, inconsistent scene lengths, completely flat plot, no concept of good writing practices in general, a horrible tendency to purple prose, inability to write any actual conflict, i could go on

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

ehmmm i had a lot of strong opinions on this in k-pop fandom LOL and then it was funny to see the same thing happening in f1 but just with different languages (so much random french/german dialogue...) but i think there are untranslatable or commonly recognized words that can be sprinkled in verbatim, like in k-pop it makes sense to use certain honorifics that don't have english equivalents but i draw the line at not translating existing terms like "mom" lol... but i have a lot of thoughts on how languages are communicated in fic in general (perhaps too many), like i also overthink how to communicate grammatical structure - so if i'm writing a french character speaking french but presenting the dialogue in english or same with korean in k-pop fic i usually try to make it flow in a way that is as grammatically reasonable as possible, which goes beyond simple semantics but into the actual logic of syntax + verb order... ok i'll stop actually

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

i was writing crasy fanfiction in middle school 🧡 earliest i remember though is probably naruto circa 6th/7th grade... honestly hard to say because i purged a lot of my ffdotnet output out of shame in 8th grade lmfao

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I Forgor...

what's your favorite fic you've written?

for my sports fics i'm partial to my latest 814 fic because i feel like it's just generally inoffensive and not plainly awful 🤔 in general though i'm attached to some of my like most niche audience_of_2 dw fic that i've written for nugu boy groups with literally 0 fans. like a level of total nobodyness few can comprehend........... we were in the trenches

no pressure tagging @piastrisms @chelemlem @miamimaiden @liamlawsonlesbian if it would be of any interest ! 🥰

[beemochi-art]

I neeeed twitch, wheeljack and scavenger wholesome family content plz‼

I was just thinking about them today!

I give some info about their little family dynamics. Just some scenarios.

Scavenger has no idea how he got here. He went from being completely solitary to basically having a mate, sparkling and no more personal space, It makes his head spin.

Cons will sleep in hammock or nests suspended above ground. Scavenger has set up his sleeping area this way. It’s uncommon for autobots to do this (Normal they sleep on a normal flat metal slab. Seems uncomfortable but it’s what they are used too.) once Wheeljack was introduced to this way of sleeping comfortably he’ll never go back to the old way. He used to call Scav a pampered con but now he’s the one that’s pampered. Have you ever seen a cat hide under the covers on a bed and they just look like a bump? Well that’s Twitch.

Jacky wants to learn everything he can from the Terrans. So he often designs games for twitch to play and for him to better understand her. Scavenger helps sometimes. He personally thinks there are better more efficient methods to learn about the Terrans but he still likes to see Twitch have fun.

Since Twitch’s arrival, Scavenger and Ironhide’s relationship has gotten a little better. They are civil with each other at least. Ironhide has gotten to see Scavs softer side and it makes him forget Scav was once a con.

Before twitch had her alt mode it was obvious she was going to be a flyer. Constantly jumping off high places and just general interest in heights. Watching two grounders try to make their way up a power line I’d hilarious to see. Usually Wheeljack is doing the climbing.

The others have tried to take a hand in raising Twitch thinking they could be a better influence, Ironhide more specifically (he just wants kids.) but twitch’s comfort level around bigger bots is mostly Jacky and Scav. But over time she has gotten more comfortable around Elita, Chromia and Bee. The others are so so. Op tried to establish a connection (he’s always wish he had kids when he had the chance.) but he scares the scrap out of her so that’s not gonna happen.

Decepticons growl, hiss and other animalistic sounds a whole lot. It’s rude and strange to Autobots so they don’t like it when Scavenger does it. Scavenger really doesn’t care. Unfortunately Twitch has picked up on this alternative form of communication, she doesn’t do it as much but it was definitely a shock when she growled at Ratchet (it was nothing major and she sounded like a Chihuahua really.) Scavenger can’t help but be a little proud 🥲. Wheeljack thought it was cute.

[daisymae-12]

hi friends I sort of stopped using tumblr the last two months because there's been a lot going on irl!! (I'm trying to return to work after a 2 year break! also generally trying to get my shit together! I tried reformer pilates! I went on a spontaneous unhinged trip overseas to south korea just for fun which is very unlike me and I'm still running off the adrenaline of that decision!)

I'm pretty bad at time management though so something had to suffer and unfortunately it was tumblr/being active in fandom/reading rwrb fics (omg i have so much fic to catch up on) 🥲 tysm though for continuing to tag me in things, and making me feel like a part of the community still 🥺 I did try to come on here once a week to have a look at what I've been tagged in!!

anyway, from now on I'm going to try my best to make more time for fandom (and the @rwrbficrecs blog 😅) because I miss being active here and I have fomo 😂 (also for wip wednesdays/sss sorry in advance if all I have energy for is a post like or a reblog that lacks the screaming/enthusiastic tags I used to do 🥲)

hope y'all are having a good year so far ❤️

tagged everyone below who tagged me in something since the the start of the year, as a "hi sorry if it seemed like i ignored something you tagged me in but just letting you know i saw the tag and appreciate you thought of me ❤️"

@suseagull04 @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @affectionatelyrs @leaves-of-laurelin @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit @ships-to-sail @sherryvalli @cultofsappho @heybuddy-drabbles @anincompletelist @inexplicablymine @wordsofhoneydew @welcometololaland @adreamareads @nocoastposts @cha-melodius @myheartalivewrites @zwiazdziarka @xthelastknownsurvivorx @14carrotghoul @tintagel-or-cockleshells @read-and-write- @lizzie-bennetdarcy

[albywritesfiction]

Helene may have the entire kingdom wrapped around her little finger, but you know that her true colors are lurking just beneath the kind and naive front she puts up.

Helene is the people’s Cinderella who they live vicariously through.

These dumb mfs ended up putting a Wicked Step-Sister on the throne LMAOOOOO CHOKE!!

the dissolution of the engagement between Ædan and MC (which Ædan did all by himself by suddenly announcing it out of nowhere). In fact, Ædan’s reasoning was extremely, infuriatingly simple: he loved Helene, not MC.

See, it wouldn't hurt THAT much to hear him say he loved Helene and not MC if he didn't blindside them with a sudden end to the engagement and shackling up with Helene. Honestly, I'm surprised there wasn't any tutting at the tactlessness of Ædan's actions, even if he is royal— not to mention he just humiliated the child of the family sworn to protecting his kingdom, you stupid son of a—

Which does make me curious about the political ramifications of such an insult— like, you described Ædric as the more "capable" brother so I'm guessing Ædan is not very.... forward-thinking. Or he is very ruled by his emotions that he just couldn't wait to break up with his fiancé(e) in a proper way then get engaged to Helene after the acceptable period of time had passed. While I highly doubt the family will retaliate, not only did Ædan not know that, but the family can pull back their previous support and it's just not a good look.

Anyway, my MC will be watching that shitshow with binoculars while sipping mimosa on the balcony of their beautiful countryside house and feeling happy at dodging a bullet and at being with the perfection that is Cyfrin. 🥰

Hello Anon!

This was such a fun ask to read that I really wanted to sit down and take my time to go through it and give you a sufficient reply, but I unfortunately had a bunch of deadlines to meet last week 🥲

(Another lengthy answer under the cut 😅)

See, it wouldn't hurt THAT much to hear him say he loved Helene and not MC if he didn't blindside them with a sudden end to the engagement and shackling up with Helene. Honestly, I'm surprised there wasn't any tutting at the tactlessness of Ædan's actions, even if he is royal— not to mention he just humiliated the child of the family sworn to protecting his kingdom, you stupid son of a—

I swear I can feel your frustration through my screen in this part 😂 reminds me of when I get worked up reading Sovieshu’s and Rashta’s scenes in the Remarried Empress webtoon (which is actually one of the main inspirations for ATE)

About the lack of voiced disapproval from the people for Ædan's actions: this is actually something that I have to change since I've realized that it doesn't quite make sense for the Argentius duchy, which contributes a rather large percentage of the kingdom's population, to just accept and be happy with what Ædan did to one of their own. I did have an explanation for why most of the public was cool with Helene replacing MC (hint: Ædan could have been a highly sought after public relations officer in the modern world), but I forgot to take into account MC's popularity with the people from their duchy.

What I did take into account though was the king’s disapproval, which is honestly what matters most to Ædan. Of course it wouldn’t be known to the public, but he was scolded harshly by his father, King Ærick, as soon as they were within the king’s office after his big announcement. Now, Ædan may be dumb, but he isn’t that dumb; he always knew that his father wouldn’t take his surprise well. So why do it if he valued his father’s opinions so much?

Well, he thought Helene was worth it. He thought she was worth any backlash they would receive, even his own beloved father’s disappointment. Even if Duke Argentius declared war on him for disrespecting his child (which he was dangerously close to actually doing), he would take up arms for Helene in a heartbeat.

(Oh Ædan, if only you knew what I have in store for you. Don’t mind the ominous music playing in the background of your wedding 🙂)

So yeah, you could say that Ædan let his emotions take over when he decided that he couldn’t live the rest of his life without the woman he loved.

Anyway, my MC will be watching that shitshow with binoculars while sipping mimosa on the balcony of their beautiful countryside house and feeling happy at dodging a bullet and at being with the perfection that is Cyfrin. 🥰

I can just imagine Cyfrin and your MC wearing shades and having a toast as the capital goes up in smoke in the background 😎🥂

Thanks for the ask!